#ASaviorIsBorn
Category: Life according to Angela
Life Hacks
Our Relief Society is doing an activity later in 2016 entitled, “Life Hacks.” The sisters will be invited to share things that they do to make their lives better.
I can’t stop thinking about this concept. I definitely have some life hacks that work for me. And that’s the thing to remember: strategies that work for me won’t work for others. Here is a list of some of my favorite life hacks:
have a plan and make lists, but try to remain flexible with expectations.
try to always be creating something, whether it is a piece of writing, art, craft, sewing project, violin program, or food.
watch almost no television and have a carefully curated collection of movies to watch.
keep a record in a journal and other places.
get dressed every day even if I am not going out.
try to always be reading something.
don’t weigh myself on a bathroom scale and do try to listen to my body for clues about what to eat and how much to eat. If I feel like eating for emotional reasons, I try to chew gum instead.
give gifts to strangers sometimes.
listen to Christmas music in January. I need it most then.
remember my ancestors often and wear jewelry or clothing almost daily that belonged to them.
avoid using my smartphone when I am with Richard.
keep a 3-ring binder full of page protectors for each child in the kitchen. When they bring home important papers, certificates, cards, etc. I put them in their binders. I also keep a binder labeled by the year to collect family papers for the scrapbook.
plan things with the family that aren’t child-centered. Not everything we do has to be about the kids.
Aquarium
Mark and I had another Friday of wonder together. I love aquariums, so I can’t believe it took us this long to see the aquarium down the street. I found myself on the floor in my dress, trying to spy new creatures and I also inadvertently dipped my coat sleeve in the water in an attempt to touch a ray as it swam past me. How childish to forget my coat for such an opportunity. How fun.
Mark and I have been working on having adventures this year as part of our study of Utah. I never went to 4th grade, so I missed out on Utah studies. I’ve felt this loss of a proper Utah education every time someone mentions a county in Utah and I have no idea where it is. Well, we are fixing this, one field trip at a time. The past two weeks we have focused on things closer to home. However, we have traveled to some interesting places this year. Mark has a map that we populate with photos in the shapes of the counties he has visited in 4th grade. We have more pictures to put on the map, but you get the idea.
To the Children of my Relief Society sisters over the years
Child,
Do you know that your parents’ concern
Is ever about you?
On the sickbed, unable to stand, a mother signals,
“Find that poem about my child and share it with Angela.”
The poem is printed on her child’s funeral program.
It sits near her mother’s bedside.
Another sits on her father’s desk, accessible with the right hand.
Child,
Your mother’s heart breaks for you.
Even gestures from close friends are too painful for her to bear.
You don’t see it, nor can you:
Her house is closed,
A mirror to your lonely place.
Child,
You left and she didn’t know she could go on.
You were her reason for living for so long.
She is finding strength on her own now, and she is radiant.
Moving forward, she keeps pace with you, hundreds of miles away.
And oh, time goes so slowly!
Child,
With love your mother allows you to come back home.
You are wounded, not healing, and raw.
You don’t tell her how you really feel;
Somehow all the words you can say are hurtful.
She knows her love is not enough to heal you;
And prays that you will find your true Savior.
Child,
We gave your mother a quilt today
To help her to know that we remember you, too.
She places it on her lap
And tells us of a tree planted in your honor:
The soldier who didn’t come home.
She will remember you long after the tree is gone,
The infant face, the boyish tricks, and songs from a teen–
Woven together in every contour of her heart.
Child,
You left today on an errand for the Lord,
I came to your mother
And she was crying, but she will be fine.
You are doing the thing that will make her happiest.
I will watch over her until you come home again
And can hug her yourself.
Child,
You are beautiful in your wedding clothes.
Your mother, tired from preparations, looks radiant.
She will put her feet up tonight, cry a few tears, and smile.
And as ever,
You will be the instrument drawing her thoughts to the future.
For mothers of faith, the future always includes you, Child.
No matter what.
Dance
Sorry for the lyrics (don’t look them up) but this is brilliant. Confession: I dance in my kitchen. Somehow dancing like a crazy person is something that keeps me feeling sane.
A Wall Hanging-Haiku
Two years and not done.
I’m framing it anyway.
Procrastination.
Wow!
I saw my first Monet painting with Richard and Mark. We visited the British Landscapes exhibit at the Utah Museum of Fine Art. (All images are from their website.) At one point during the exhibit, Mark asked if he should stop saying, “Wow!” all of the time. “No,” I replied. “This is why I brought you to the museum with me.”
4,616 questions answered
I finished a substantial goal last Friday: I finished my study of the Gospels by answering all 4,616 questions from Julie M. Smith’s book, Search, Ponder, and Pray: A Guide to the Gospels. My goal was one page per day. Some days this took me 15 minutes. Other days this took me hours. I began on January 1 and finished on November 6. Who knew that my study of the New Testament would include looking up and pondering so many Old Testament scriptures? Who knew that I would love the Gospel of Mark best because it made me want to get out and help people all the time? Matthew nearly killed me, and John always makes me breathless with its depth. Did you know that there were efforts to combine all the Gospels into one account in the early Christian church? I am thankful for the distinct voices of the Gospels.
I was at my “desk” at the kitchen table most of the day to celebrate my birthday by finishing my goal. It was Richard’s gift to me and my gift to myself.
This is the answer to the final question of Julie’s book that I wrote out on my precious day.
Q: How has your testimony changed as a result of studying the Gospels?
A: My testimony of Christ has grown as I’ve focused on the Gospels this year. I’ve seen the Savior in greater dimension. I have felt inspired to be more like him. My study of the Gospels has drawn my heart out to others instead of making me rigid in my appraisal of them. I’ve appreciated the women’s voices and influence in the NT. I’ve appreciated the disciples’ honesty in how they did not understand the doctrine even with Jesus in their midst, but understanding came to them later, a gift from our Father in Heaven. I feel like I know Jesus better; that I can see more clearly how he would handle situations in the world today. He was more than “Love,” although he was its personification; He was more than doctrine, although he preached it and represented it without fear. He didn’t stand for inclusion in a worldly sense, but through his completion of the Atonement, he is the ultimate instrument of inclusion for all of God’s children. I am changed by my study. I won’t remember all of the details, but I am not the same person that I was when I began.
To the Rescue with Children
This week I am in charge of a funeral luncheon and there are several sisters in poor health in my congregation. I was trying to think of how to meet so many needs and I remembered this adventure from my memoir project. I’m grateful that our children are old enough to take care of themselves this week!
To the Rescue with Children, 2003
Our phone rang almost all of the time during the years that I served as the president of the Relief Society in my church in Austin. On this day in 2003, the call was from a woman who needed me to pick up her son from school because he was sick. She was a bus ride away from home and had no way to pick him up. Her son lived with many disabilities and I was on the list of people who had permission to pick him up from school.
I looked down at my three young children, ages a few months to age 6. How was I going to pick up this boy with all of these kids in tow? I had many people who helped watch the children during these years, but finding a sitter wasn’t always possible. Today I didn’t have time to call around for help; the boy needed to be picked up right away. I loaded the kids into the van and drove to the high school.
It was a cool, blank-skied Texas spring afternoon with some rain. My mind dashed among the incompatible players in this situation. Should I bring the kids into the school? I couldn’t believe that this was a good idea. I needed both of my hands to help the boy to the car. What if he was angry and unwilling to come with me? I tried to shield my children from a lot of the anger and grief I saw as I did my Relief Society work. The cool rain gently spattered the windshield as I pulled into the school, still with no solution.
I looked at my children in the rear view mirror and spied a blanket in the back seat. As I gathered up baby Timothy I told Paige and Daniel, ages six and three to hide under the blanket while I was gone. I didn’t want anyone to notice the abandoned children in our van. This was not a smart solution. But it was all I could do. Any other solution would have meant leaving them alone for a longer period of time. I didn’t worry about their safety as much as what people might think if they saw them. I became a mother in the early years of the attachment parenting movement which evolved into helicopter parenting. The cultural reflex to judge a parent harshly when children are seen alone, even in a cool car with its doors locked, caused me more angst than was helpful for the kids.
Those ten minutes while I collected the boy from school were filled with guilt and frustration. I was relieved that he didn’t need to be coaxed into coming with me because he was interested in the baby I had tied against me in a sling.
My children probably remember my work with this family because I would abandon them to do it. “Play in this tree while I go inside this house, kids,” and, “Hide under this blanket while I go and fetch this boy from the high school,” and “Have fun with Grandma and Dad while I go for a visit!” I hope that I was able to frame these maneuvers as adventures to them.
This art makes me feel like I’m not cutting corners, and it expresses how I feel about drivers ed
This is my 13th year of home schooling. I only have one student now, but that has its own challenges. It’s harder to be fun with just one kid. I’m 13 years older, too. When we finish our subjects and tasks, I’m am usually out the door or in the kitchen doing something for Relief Society. Driving the older boys to and from school, Frisbee practice, piano lessons, and performances takes additional time. This is why I am thankful for Mark’s art teacher Renon. She supplements Mark’s education in a beautiful way. We are still waiting for Daniel’s drivers ed teacher to issue the final certificate so he can get his license. Every day of this delay is literally hours of driving for me. Here is a painting of how long this process feels like it is taking:
