This was one of the calls I had with Paige on her birthday this week. We mix and match people who can participate for any given thing. Of course we miss the other members of the family not included in this shot and others. I took for granted being a 6-person unit that I could count on to see each day, but as much as I miss them, I don’t want them to clip their wings for me. They are doing amazing things in many places.
Paige is worth celebrating!
Paige is a wonderful mother, a peacemaker, a kind friend, and a keeper of traditions. She is what a disciple of Christ looks like. She’s strong, patient, steady, faithful, and a listener. She has developed many gifts. She’s a talented professional illustrator, a foodie, a dancer, a musician, and a wonderful daughter. And so much more.
I took about 200 pictures of Tim and Queenie on Saturday night at Albion Basin with a backdrop of wildflowers, mountain peaks, and a beautiful sunset. Wildflower season brings crowds, and Richard circled in the truck, waiting for a parking spot while we began taking photos. Somehow, among all the brides and grooms and families, we were able to take photos without people in the background. I told them to pretend they were the only ones there and not worry about onlookers. Other times, we had the path to ourselves. I felt pretty lucky to have this time with them.
School is getting out this week in my neighborhood, and this season of graduations makes me reflect on how much has changed since our youngest left home. During most of this school year, I have wondered why all the years of dedication and effort in raising my family needed to end with these hollow feelings. Recently, I decided to challenge my negative thoughts about the “empty nest.”
For instance, what if my current situation isn’t a sign that I did something wrong?
What if the quiet things I am doing now are essential, and not just filler?
What if this season is actually a gift?
What if I look at this time of transition less like an airport and more like a plane in flight?
What if my small achievements are actually big?
What if I choose to trust the process?
I begin to understand that I’m exactly where I should be. As summer arrives, I’m ready to graduate to a new kind of thinking, and move away from the hollow spaces I’ve inhabited so long.
I think we should all collect family stories, share them, display old family pictures, and do some temple work.♥️ Everyone needs this kind of connection and belonging. In each family tree there is someone who will inspire you.
He’s entered the year of his life that I won’t be able to hug him because he is serving so far away, but I am thrilled that he is a missionary. I am so proud of him.
Oh, my heart.Echoes of their childhood building LegosThis is my new wallpaper for my phone. I boop his nose with my finger to unlock it.
I couldn’t visit my mom this year, but tried to write an extra good letter, which I realize now was probably inadequate with her living so far away from family. I like the concept of Mother’s Day. In practice, I understand that it can be hard to do it right.
There are some tongue in cheek remarks from me around Mother’s Day. For instance, sometime around March when the ads begin, I will ask Richard if he’s started planning gifts for the holiest day of the year, Mother’s Day. Gifts are not my love language, but I like to be with my family and I like their kind gestures. As the saying goes, my family “understood the assignment,” and made my weekend very special.
This year, I got to spend time with our 3 oldest kids. There was our trip to Alabama to see Paige and her family, then on Saturday, Daniel, Tim, and Richard washed our windows and we went to a movie together. I was able to connect with Mark and Paige on the phone on Sunday. Tim skipped his ward meeting to sit beside me in church, ensuring that I didn’t sit alone. My gifts were mostly sweets, which are perfect for me. Richard cooked dinner and we dined around a new rose bouquet.
I love our family. I love Richard. I love being a mom.
One of the things I did in 2013 was play in the stake musical production. Here I am with Tevye playing Tradition! from Fiddler on the Roof. 🔥
As I paged through a journal I wrote in 2013, I was amazed at the things I did that year. All of our children were still living at home, so beyond the things I recorded in the journal, there were so many meals, so much laundry, and so much driving. One line stands out to me from this journal,
“My favorite sin right now is haste.”
By “haste” I meant that I didn’t take enough time to be still.
In 2025, haste is no longer a favorite sin. I have been given the gift to be still. True, I have less laundry and cooking to do now, but there are a few more dominant forces during the last 12 years that taught me to slow down.
Saying goodbye to Tim, 2021
First, the years of decision arrived for our children with college, missions, marriage, and beyond. I realized that the most important thing I can do for my children is pray for them. And when they ask for advice, I need an arsenal of inspired wisdom. I choose stillness so I can feel assurances of peace concerning my children and to help my children.
In the hospital, 2020
Second, I had poor health for an extended time which taught me to slow down. I was forced to stop filling my life with non-essentials. I learned to sit on the couch and listen to my family. I didn’t miss being busy, so as my health returned, I remained more present and unhurried.
The women who served with me 2019-2024
Third, I had church callings that stretched me to study deeply. We had unprecedented and perplexing issues to handle, so I had to be still so I could see the path forward. I was perplexed so often that stillness became a habit.
This exercise of looking back over 12 years of personal growth shows me that my Father in Heaven works through many means to help me change. He wasn’t the cause of my difficulties, but he helped me to use these obstacles as stepping stones toward rest.
…my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.
A friend asked me recently if I am keeping busy these days. She said that it’s funny how you can be so busy raising children, and just like lifting a hand from a bucket of water, immediately the gap gets filled when they are gone.
It was a good analogy, a hand lifted from water. Things just slide in to take over the days. This is not to say that the transition is easy or without complexity, and I think the process has aged me. The process is also transforming me. There are many things to do in life, and they come rushing at me each morning in ripples of ideas and possibilities. So, I keep sloshing along, not in a hurry, but finding meaning in a few new things. Fluid is my favorite metaphor for life right now.
The day that you got hurt, you were probably in shock for many hours afterwards, dulling the reality of what you experienced. Perhaps there was some pain as the anesthetic wore off, and the reality of dealing with a cast is really a challenge. I know that it is no fun to have an illness or injury away from home. I remember being alone in the hospital in 2020 for many days. During that isolating and painful time, I came to hear God’s voice better than if I had spent those days happily at home. It was worth the pain to know the Lord better.
I hope that you feel our prayers for you and that the healing process is uncomplicated. I hope that you are able to manage any pain that you have. I hope that you will know God better through this experience. I think you were protected from worse injury. I think that you are going to be just fine. Before I knew that you were hurt, I experienced a really calm feeling that morning, and I knew it was a spiritual impression. I think the Lord was preparing me. As I looked back on the day, I realized that the Lord really did “speak peace to my mind” to let me know that you were being cared for … even before I knew what happened.
Here are some things I observed about you as we interacted that day that make me proud of you.
Your first concern was my experience saying goodbye to the McLaughlins.
You were upbeat.
You were anxious to tell us about the baptism and confirmation. What a gift you provided through your righteous exercise of priesthood authority.
You are loved by the missionaries who know you.
You were concerned about the cost of medical care for us, and didn’t dwell on the negative part of your day. You were selfless and brave. I am proud of you.
