The Healthy Sound of Boys’ Voices in the Mountains

I have been at Cub Scout camp this week. Oh, the mountain air and the healthy sound of boys’ voices echoing through the pines! In awe, I saw a 13-year old Eagle Scout lead 60 Cub Scouts in a trail cleanup project. There were shouts of “Let’s do it!” and “Yeah!” and then the mountain swarmed with Cub Scouts picking up fallen branches and trees. They worked so hard, and most were smiling. The challenges were car sickness, fatigue, and leaving computer games. The highlights were the water rockets, guns, archery, and ping-pong. It was such an adventure.

There is a monster that is devouring the hopes of many children. It begins with fear and can grow into anxiety and eventual incapacity or indifference. Scouting can be a catalyst for growth because a Scout must get out and do something and be someone. As he does this, he trades his fears for confidence and his selfishness for service. I believe that almost without exception, a boy is better off going to Scout Camp than staying home, nursing his fears (or the fears of his parents).

I speak from my experience, being the one who handles the budget, forms, applications, tour permits, and communication with parents. I also go to Cub Scout Camp with the boys and see a visible change in the countenance of a boy who has just conquered a task, especially a task he thought was hard.

Today it feels like Daniel is still enjoying the effects of his worthy adventure. The best descriptive word I can come up with is Contentment.

rocket launcher

Becoming

Paige has finished her 8th grade work.  We celebrated her accomplishments at the public library on Saturday. While honoring these accomplishments, we hope to make it clear that we are most proud of the young woman Paige has become in the process of her education.

She retains that sparkle that we’ve always loved in her countenance and the grace in her demeanor. We know that she will do very well in her high school studies.

I’m going to cover our patio with these

After a friend’s funeral on Saturday and the news of my nephew’s cancer this week, it feels like treason that life should go on. I carry so many people in my heart these days (and I think that I mean the heart of my spirit). So, even if I blog about something silly like lounge chairs, I am still praying for my dear ones and hoping for peace and comfort for all. My pillow is wet with tears each night, as is my shirt as I find myself driving with tears streaming down my face. I find myself worried that people might see the dried tears on my face that seem to crackle when I try to smile. With our faith we will make it through and I plan to make life as joyful as I can.

I will be pursuing some very simple joys. I’m getting some lawn chairs. We’ll be having more outdoor parties lit with Christmas lights and Japanese lanterns. We’ll have long afternoons together reading and playing in the sprinklers. This also means there will be more hugging and fewer rants about a messy floor. It probably means I’ll make dessert now and then, too.

Life is teaching me to Grab the Memories and Make them Count.

I finished reading Julia Child’s memoir of her life in Paris. I have no interest in French cooking or any other kind of cooking these days, but the words were a delight and a retreat.  I loved the book because her voice broke through the mass of words (many in French…argh!). I was reminded of the attraction a person holds when she loves what she doing and she is pursuing a worthy goal.

I want to be like that, not with cooking, but in my pursuit of the abundant life, which is

  • A life of peace and service,
  • A life of  sacrifice mixed with spontaneous delightful memories,
  • A life lived worthily and capably, giving credit to the True Source of all that is good,
  • A life full of Christ-centered and family focused events and pastimes,
  • A life savored during the good times and cherished during the bad,
  • A life that nurtures a real relationship with my Father in Heaven.

Hoping you are finding joy pursuing your own abundant life,

Angie

Curing the Burnout Monster

An unfinished chess game is the perfect metaphor for how I view the school year tonight. It began with great plans and intentions but we’re rushing to a hollow ending, punctuated by the little ping you hear when you kick an empty can. WARNING: you have just been exposed to the effects of the burnout monster.

I have 5 days until I call the school year finished. Can I conquer this monster? Can I look at the year objectively and the see the truth in what we have accomplished?

I think objectivity is one of the first things to fail when I am weary.  To get my objectivity back, I need to fill in my spreadsheets with scores and figure out grades. Maybe I need a teacher fairy to tell me if I can go to the good teacher ball. (You know, the ball where I have new contact lenses, a haircut, and a few extra hours of reading time each day.) Can this little teacher have a guilt-free summer break, please?

And can I get a little assertiveness fairy, too? Are you clapping your hands? Do you believe? Truly, a little glittery fairy to give me courage to face a lurking task and the teacher fairy to look over the kids’ projects would be just the thing.

Preparation

This is my violin at rest. Richard and I are playing at a friend’s funeral tomorrow.

It’s a tender time, losing such a young father in our ward.

Significantly, our ward will participate in the sacred process of dedicating a temple on Sunday.

As I prepare for this funeral and dedication, I examine my heart and find that along with the ache of mourning, there is peace and an ultimate hope of eternal families, made possible because of temple covenants.

Mark, You are Loved

We had a wonderful day with you, Mark, beginning with a doorway decorated with balloons.

They were red, of course.

You walked into Mom’s closet and said, “Let’s look in the mirror and see how big I am now that I am 4.”

You opened gifts of Legos, playdough, and little critters while wearing your pajamas.

And then you were off to play.

Maria, our neighbor, decorated our door in your honor.

Maria visited over the fence during the pinata fun.

During scripture study, you asked, “Mom, now that I am 4, does this mean I can read?”

In the afternoon, we let you drive the little truck over to the grassy field. We played catch. You learned to throw a baseball (step, throw!) and fielded lots of grounders. Good job!

May all your wishes come true, little man.