Long before my parents bought the Round House in Spring Lake, this was a special place in our family. My great-grandparents lived in Spring Lake and farmed there in the 1930’s through the early 1960’s. I remember trips to Spring Lake to visit the old house, the trout farm, and the little lake. There is something so beautiful about this rural area. In fact, the lake (as it used to be before the trees were all removed) is one of the places I think about when something unpleasant is happening.
At the base of the Secret Garden there is a beautiful view of the Payson Temple.
I love the meandering pathways through periwinkle and oak in the Secret Garden.
The new house is nearly finished. Our fingers are crossed that we can eat our Thanksgiving dinner there.
What a happy surprise to have my friend Trudy and her mother drop in with English candies and all their news. They’ve lived in America for many years, but they are originally from England. Her mother’s voice and accent are unforgettable to me.
Trudy moved in down the street when I was about 13. We became friends after I tried to comb out all the tangles in her hair when she got pneumonia and had to spend weeks in bed. I had good times at their home. I loved their Christmas celebrations with traditional English fare in lavish portions in a beautiful presentation on their table. Trudy was there to help me get ready for my prom date; she was there when I made transitions to high school, college, and a new apartment. I played the violin for her missionary farewell. We dried each other’s tears and sometimes we were silly.
Trudy’s hair is beyond gorgeous, and these two women are masterful teachers and they love children. Each has an advanced degree in education. I didn’t have a maid of honor or a bridesmaid at my wedding because Trudy was serving a mission in California and I couldn’t imagine anyone else standing in that role. She’s such a dear and generous friend. I am so glad she took the time to visit!
What a nice birthday celebration. I wrote 40 letters this week to important people in my life. What a great way to feel completely content with everything and everyone. My life is full of miracles, including the placement and timing of friends, teachers, and family.
On my birthday, cards and kind gestures arrived in abundance. I enjoyed a lunch with my lunch date, Mark, who slicked back his hair and wore his fabulous new glasses, and my mom and one of my sisters. I got to hear the kids perform on the piano. I felt healthy and I had energy. I’ve loved playing my new violin, which was Richard’s birthday gift. The sun was shining and the light was golden and the view from every window was colorful because of the autumn leaves. I watched the full moon rise over the mountains. We shared delicious milkshakes as a family.
One of the songs from our church musical is about finding evidence of our Heavenly Father’s hand in our lives. It has a line which says,
“For how could we hope to see His face, who never could see His hand?”
This week as I listened and sang along to the music in my kitchen, the truth of that line made me a little breathless with emotion. Gratitude (acknowledging His hand) is a step to seeing His face. What a comfort to see His love. What joy in the seeking.
Eight years ago my dad and mom began their missionary journey. They were asked to come to the Church office building in Salt Lake City for several interviews before being called as a mission president and companion and there was a lot of training which began 6 months before they went to the missionary training center. My mom learned Spanish. My dad revisited his Spanish speaking skills. He shaved his mustache.
They moved out of their home and said goodbye to the grandchildren. It was a big deal in our family to see this happen.
They served for 3 years in the California San Bernardino mission. My mom taught, cooked, entertained, cooked, taught, loved, and spent a lot of time on the phone dealing with the health issues of their missionaries while my dad presided over the mission. There isn’t time to list all the things a mission president does for the missionaries, the people who are being taught by the missionaries, the members, and the community. I saw both my parents shine as they did the work. It was a busy, busy time.
Just a few months after they came home they were called to serve in the Provo Missionary Training Center. My dad served in branch presidencies and as a Branch President for Spanish speaking missionaries. This meant they would be at the MTC usually 2 nights a week and all day on Sundays. It meant my dad would read and respond to letters from his missionaries on another evening each week. My family was able to attend a sacrament meeting at the MTC on Christmas Day a few years ago. The missionaries spoke Spanish at whatever level they could. I saw how they loved my parents and how parents loved them. My dad has a great zeal for the gospel and my mom has a quiet wisdom that the missionaries love.
They were released on Sunday morning, which means that their service was accepted and they are no longer serving as missionaries. My heart broke a little bit for them, especially my dad. I am so proud of my parents. It’s been a marathon… an 8-year marathon, and they have touched so many lives.
I’m still living with pain. I’m not going to share details, but I want to share what these weeks have taught me.
1. I am a hopeful person. I keep telling myself that tomorrow will be a better day, and that seems to help. Hope is powerful.
2. Pain makes me become so self-centered and it’s an awful feeling. One day this week someone called and asked me to help them with some sewing. I was so grateful for the relief from thinking about myself! Providing service is a blessing, even (and especially) for those who have troubles of their own.
3. There are people to help me. I have decided to be more proactive and seek help from a specialist, if necessary. When I showed up for some lab work, my Relief Society President was working there and helped me, and that was a tender mercy to help me to feel encouraged and understood.
4. Our lives and our bodies are a gift, no matter what we are feeling. I am grateful for shadow and light, pain and comfort, joy, and a little sorrow because every season can reveal God’s hand in my life.
Timothy earned some extra money this summer because he got a job mowing a neighbor’s lawn. He has been faithful and hard-working. I know it was a challenging thing for him to do, but he didn’t act like it was.
Timothy is a saver. He decides what he wants and takes the time to save for it. He bought a Lego set last week that he’s been working for all summer. After he built it, we decided it was terribly overpriced. I almost want to write a letter to Lego. Their profit margin is over 30% and when I think of all the hours and labor that this boy gave for that disappointing set, I am a little frustrated. Timothy is happy, but I think he has learned to be a little more cautious.
Just a smattering of thoughts today, readers.These super hero prints were a gift to the kids from the artist, Josh Talbot. We bought my new violin from his wife.I love pumpkins, and pumpkins from a friend are especially nice.Welcome to our house!Photo is from Halloween 2006
There are fewer costumes to get ready for Halloween this year. When I think back to the years when we coordinated costumes for the kids, I feel thankful that we made those memories. Super Heroes, The Wizard of Oz, and Star Wars were my favorite themes. I spent a little time sewing Halloween bunting over the fall break. Mark has been my helper to decorate the house. One day he spent an hour wrapping little skeletons in t.p. so they would look like mummies. He emphasized to me that the mummies are NOT for the house, but special for his room. Mark and I found this to be a mutually agreeable use for the mummies.
Mark told us that he didn’t need help with his tie. Okay.
The kids had a piano recital this weekend. Paige played the Mendelssohn Concerto in g minor op. 25, 1st movement. Daniel played Maple Leaf Rag by Joplin and a nice contemporary concerto called Concerto Bravo by Olsen. Timothy played Bach’s Solfeggietto and a piece called Frenzy. Mark surprised us again with very expressive dynamics in Spy Bot (He’s a real showman!) and amazed us with his speed at playing Cinnamon Popcorn. The older kids who played concertos were accompanied by their teacher, who spent a lot of extra time working with them on their pieces. She’s in the photo with the kids.
Mark’s measurement robot. I can’t tell you how many times this robot comes to my mind when I am working in the kitchen.
Home school with Mark is comfortable, sweet, and a joy. I’m savoring the time with him. Our studies follow a familiar path through ancient history, math facts, science, and writing. With each child, however, there is zeal for different favorite subjects and I enjoy seeing Mark’s personality and strengths emerge as we work on projects. Mark is good company, and we have the best conversations, and by that I mean we talk through a depth and breadth of his thoughts about super heroes, Star Wars, planets, Calvin and Hobbes, and Harry Potter. I write down some of the things he says as a keepsake of this time together.
On another front…
I find sharing my faith on Facebook to be very tricky. I admire people who can share concise, genuine statements about their testimonies. One thing I am thinking about is how to convey my testimony more effectively (online, among friends) without sounding like a Puritan or shaking so much in my boots. I posted the following paragraph on Facebook, but didn’t get any “LIKES” from my friends of other faiths. Does this mean I sounded like a Puritan to them? Who knows.
The LDS missionaries in our area needed some teaching practice so they picked our family. I loved how they taught and shared their love for the gospel of Jesus Christ. I wish I had invited someone to join us. Next time you see the missionaries, consider listening to their message with an open heart and mind. It will make your day. Their message is the most important part of my life.
Do you have thoughts about sharing your faith online?
I write this as the missionaries sit outside with Richard at a correlation meeting. They are around our house a lot. I am NEVER prepared when they come. One day I walked into the kitchen after showering, looking for a hair brush in my purse. It wasn’t until I had loaded the dishwasher while sporting wet, messy hair that I noticed that the missionaries were in the next room watching me make a fool of myself. Today they have to sit outside because every living area in the house is full of toys and friends. I just never know when they are going to show up.
This is probably one reason people respond well to online missionary work. I just need to learn how to do it better. Really, do you have suggestions?
I make TO DO lists because if I don’t, I’ll forget something, such as a ballet recital (I’ve done this), Scout workshop, or that we’ve run out of frozen corn. My lists allow me to be prepared and achieve goals. However, lately I can’t get through my lists. They are too long and there are so many directions we are being pulled.
One night last week I lay in bed and began going over the unfinished things on my lists. We are involved in baseball, piano, orchestra, band, two musicals, school, home school, scouts, shed and fence building, rewiring part of the house, and teaching violin. The errands and time associated with these activities are significant. Church, school, and music are the priorities these days, so most of my ignored tasks involved housework. The cluttered corners of the house seemed to project themselves before my mind and taunt me. Then I decided to stop the nonsense be kind to myself.
I reflected on the things I HAD done. I was glad that I had spent time with each family member, made dinner, and learned something. I thought of the progress I had made (small) on a personal goal. I closed my eyes and went to sleep peacefully. My unfinished projects could wait for a later time.
I have learned that season changes affect my energy levels. The summer-autumn change is most significant for me. I slow down and often have a few health issues emerge because the adrenaline of summer activities is gone. This season change has been no different. I am struggling with some pain (nothing to worry about), but being gentle with myself when things on my list get pushed to another day.
I turn 40 in less than a month. I threw myself a birthday party when I turned 30 and invited everyone in town. I wanted to do the same thing for my 40th. I’ve juggled all kinds of fabulous plans. Then I saw a photograph of some of my friends dressed in 1940’s costumes at an outdoor party with twinkle lights and movie posters from the 40’s. Yes, someone had come up with the perfect 40th birthday party in my neighborhood, just 2 months before my own. I haven’t had the heart to think about other ideas since.
This week I decided that I will celebrate my 40th birthday by writing letters over the next few weeks to 40 of the most influential people in my life. I am writing this on my blog so I will be accountable. I haven’t decided if I will publish my list, but I’ve begun writing. I think it’s the best celebration I could come up with, even though it doesn’t include costumes and big band music.
I joined some of our friends from our early years in Texas for lunch this weekend. (Richard couldn’t come because he was on the elk hunt with his dad.) Our oldest children were babies together, and now they are all grown up. We became friends at an exciting time in our lives, far from our home states. These and other couples became our family.
My Grandma Stewart encouraged me to find friends during our newlywed years. She and Grandpa made lasting friendships during their early years of marriage. Richard and I have moved around quite a bit so our friendships have not been so constant as my grandmother’s. However, gathering together on Saturday, I can see why I called them friends all those years ago and that we really haven’t changed much. There are lots of sweet memories. We share a common history and that is not easily forgotten. It’s only when we talk about our children dating, driving, and going to college that we begin to feel our age.
At the base of the Secret Garden there is a beautiful view of the Payson Temple.
The new house is nearly finished. Our fingers are crossed that we can eat our Thanksgiving dinner there.
