Sunday, December 13, 2015

The gospel of swing and other things

When I was in my early 20's dancing was my life. I danced as many nights a week as I could. I helped run a dance venue on Friday nights with a few friends. I lived and breathed dancing. I would sit in sacrament exhausted from the dancing I enjoyed the night before and see waltzing in my head every time we sang a hymn that was a 3/4 beat.

West Coast Swing is similar enough to the Lindy Hop that we would dance with the lindys. While Lindy Hoping I heard the phrase "the gospel of swing." This phrase started to bother me the more I thought about it. I had no qualms about sharing my love of dance with others. I would tell and invite anyone that would listen. But what about the Gospel, the good word of Christ? Who was I proclaiming that, too?

Well, everyone I knew was either active or had already heard about it and made their decision and I didn't want to push them farther away. And I didn't want to offend anyone. And it doesn't come up that often. And....it was just more fun to talk about swing. When I get an opportunity I'll talk about it. That's reasonable, right?

A few yeas ago I started doing essentrics, a stretching and strengthening workout. I love doing this workout. I like it better than yoga because it's constant movement, I have a hard time holding poses. It stretches my body in ways that it normally doesn't get stretched and my body feels so good when I do essentrics. I think everyone should stretch so I think that everyone should do essentrics. I could proclaim my love of essentrics to everyone. I would even like to become certified to teach so I can know more about it and be able to help others.

My desire to share essentrics with everyone started to remind me of the gospel of swing. And as I pondered on dance, essentrics and the Gospel of Jesus Christ, I learned a few things.

I realized that my love of and my desire to share essentrics with others is directly related to how often I participate in it.

When I danced my participation never wavered, so neither did my zeal. Dance was important enough to me that it was a priority, I never forgot about it, I never let things get in the way of it when I could help it.

Essentrics is a little different. I have to make an effort to make it a priority. It's important to me, but it's easy to let it fall by the wayside if I don't keep focused on it and remember why I love it and why I should do it.

Essentrics reminds me of the Gospel. I love the Gospel. Living the Gospel has benefited me in many ways. I know it is important and necessary, necessary for the whole of the human race, but I have to make an effort to make it a priority. So many things can get in the way if I let it. I have to remind myself everyday why I follow Jesus and keep His commandments. Why I do the things I do and how much I love it.

The more we participate in the Gospel, in our own salvation, the more we love it, and the greater our zeal for sharing it will grow. When we participate daily it will be on our minds and will be easier to share with others. Dance was easy to share because I thought about it all the time. When I make Christ the focus of my thoughts and my day and the reason for what I do with my day, it is so much easier to share Him with those around me. When I am living it, it is easy to tell others what I am doing with my day, and thus create an opportunity to share the Gospel with others.

I love dance and I love essentrics, but neither of those mean anything without the Gospel of Jesus Christ. And I wouldn't have either of those things without Him.


Tuesday, September 15, 2015

The trenches of motherhood (who's really the enemy)

It's 9 a.m. I've been up since 6:30, not to mention all the times I was awakened in the middle of the night. I have no idea what day it is. It feels like a Wednesday but I know it's not because I'm yet to feel the relief of a fresh paycheck in the bank, but I know it's close so it must be Tuesday. I have 7 bottles of grape juice in the water bath with 25 more waiting on the counter and I know processing them is going to take all day. I haven't had a chance to read my scriptures this morning but I managed a hasty prayer. Leese and I have already had a few tiffs, though I haven't yelled...yet. Rylan is sort of patiently waiting to be fed and my cereal is now too soggy to eat and I lack sufficient energy or time to try breakfast again. My house is a mess, it feels like it's been torn apart for months and I don't have the energy, time or even sometimes ability to put it back together. I have laundry and dishes to do and in two days we are going to the city so I have packing along with grocery shopping in the back of my head. I am exhausted and overwhelmed, among a dozen other adjectives I'm sure you are all feeling, too.

I am in the trenches of motherhood.

I am fighting a war and each day is a battle.

It is hard, dirty, harrowing work.

But who am I fighting this war against? My kids? My husband? That mom I know that has more kids than I do and never yells?

That's what satan wants you to think. He wants you to feel like all you do all day is fight with your kids, I certainly feel that way. He wants you to ruminate on the thoughts of how you do so much more housework than your husband does until you are ready to snap, I've had those days. He wants you to think that compared to those other perfect moms that you are a failure. He wants you to believe that you will never be good enough. Never measure up. Never be anything more than you are.

Does this sound familiar?

We are fighting a war against satan, and every day is a battle to keep him out of our hearts and out of our homes. To protect ourselves and our families from him. I often feel like my battle is with Elise. That she is the one who is keeping me from not only accomplishing more but from being more. From being able to have my own identity, from having an easier life, one that doesn't include taking 30 minutes to put the baby down because as soon as he falls asleep she is coming up the stairs screaming my name, from being able to come and go as I please.

My battle is not with her, it's with impatience, anger, selfishness, my own natural man.

So what can we do to win these daily, and even hourly, skirmishes?

Find time to pray in the morning, at night, after the kids go down for a nap, when we feel our patience slipping, when we are grateful for a tiny, tender mercy. Let God speak to you through His written word. Take a time out. Walk away from the mess and spend a little quality time with the kids, to remember that they are your allies.

And most of all remember. Remember that satan is very real and he will oppose every good thing you do, which will often make you feel like a failure. Remember that you are stronger than Him, that with God you can do anything. Remember that satan nitpicks at you because he wants what you have, because you have everything and he has nothing but his desire to make you miserable.

Remember that God loves you. That He is with you always, just reach out to Him and you will find Him. Take time to look for the tender mercies He gives you every day. Notice how a hard day wasn't as bad as it could have been because He was there.

It's 9 a.m. and I have 32 bottles of grape juice, which is great because 32 is much more than the 12 bottles I had last year. I've made it two whole weeks with only $30 to my name and have seen the great blessings of tithing along the way, and tomorrow I will see another payday and have the wonderful opportunity to pay my tithing again so that we can receive the blessings we need. I haven't yelled yet, which means I still have the opportunity to go all day without yelling, and even though Elise drives me crazy in between the crazy moments she is doing a funny dance or helping me bake, and I am so grateful to have a daughter who is so spirited. And even though my house is a mess, my to-do list is long and I'm more exhausted than I ever want to be, tomorrow is another day, and with my Savior by my side I can find joy in the trenches.

Sunday, September 13, 2015

A heart like playdough

Quite some time ago I bought some playdough for Elise but then decided to hide it until she was older. Recently we pulled it out to play with it and learned the unfortunate truth that playdough at rest for an extended amount of time becomes hardened. I looked online to see if it could be revived and found that kneading water into it would help. In some of them it did, but for others it was too late, they were too hard and dry.

I was reminded of this experience the other day as I was pondering upon the Lord's hand in my life.

He's always there but occasionally I can feel Him guiding me, bringing certain things into my life all at once to get me to a place I need to be. Even though they can be difficult, I am grateful for these times. Saturday I realized that He is doing it again. This time I can look back and see how He has prepared me for this moment and I know what He is trying to accomplish with me.

In this current instance He is bringing me information that I need and using it to teach me, to heal me, to help me to become better, to help me to become the woman that I want to be.

Even though I can see it and I know what is going on, it is hard. I have to choose to let Him lead me. To show me what I need to change and then follow through with His help.

And I had the thought that it is like being molded, actually that is exactly what He is doing. And so I had the image of my heart as playdough in His hands. I can imagine that it would hurt to have someone literally knead your physical heart. And it hurts to have your emotional heart kneaded and shaped into something new.

The process is easier if we don't just let our hearts sit. If we continually give our hearts to Him to be shaped then the daily moldings and the big molding moments are easier.

So what if we have let our hearts sit? Or what if perhaps we are doing those daily things to invite the Spirit in but we've been hurt or we're afraid and we block certain spiritual things out? It will be more painful, but as we are brave and tough it out, the more we let Him work on our hearts the easier it will become. The more we will become who He wants us to be and the more we will trust Him with our hearts.

And it doesn't hurt to add a little water. Or a lot. I like to think of the water as the Spirit. I don't know how my heart could ever be changed without it.

I'd like to think that I don't have a hard heart, that I do fairly well at letting Him mold it, but I have a few little scared spots that have gotten a little tough. My ever-loving Savior sees those spots and knows exactly what to do. He has prepared me and has waited for the right time, and now I can feel Him moving into those spots and working out the hardness.

I know this journey will be hard but I am also excited. I am excited that He is helping me to become a little more like Him, a little more like the woman I want to be and better able to do His work. I am grateful for those that He places in my life, whether momentarily or in the long run, that unknowingly help me on my way. And I'm grateful to have a heart like playdough that He can mold.

Friday, August 28, 2015

Healing and Heroes: If you knew you would be healed



I’ve been watching “Heroes” with the Hubley. I never watched it when it was originally airing but now I’m watching it—thank you Netflix—so that I can watch “Heroes Reborn” in the fall.

*Possible “Heroes” spoilers*

In the episode that we were watching last night, one of the characters—whose power is that he is nuclear—was having a nuclear episode and burning up the house he was in so everyone had to leave or be burned to death. The nuclear guy could be stopped with a tranquilizer but the person giving it to him was not going to survive.

Enter Claire, whose power is that her body heals itself. She gave him the tranquilizer which stopped his episode and saved everyone else.

When Claire walks out of the house she is severely burned but is regenerating as she walks until she is whole. As I watched that I had the thought:

“What would you do if you knew that you would heal?”

And then I thought about the Atonement.

What would you do if you knew you would be healed?

Every word that came from the mouth of God?

If I could stand at the brink of a trial and know that I would survive, that I will be healed, how much more willing would I be to unquestioningly follow the path the Lord has set before me?
But Claire didn’t start out running into such fatal situations. She had to learn that she would survive them until experience taught her without a doubt that no matter what, she would be healed.
We learn the same way, line upon line, experience by experience. Because of trials I have been through in the past, small at first and then gradually bigger and harder trials, I know that I can walk through very difficult trials and survive. And not only that, but my Savior will walk through it with me. He will heal me as I go, sometimes just enough so that I can keep going, but if I keep trusting in Him and keep moving forward, eventually I will make it out, and be stronger for it.
Sometime the purpose of the trial—or burning house—is to teach us that He is there, and the Atonement is real and will heal us. It is to teach us that we can trust Him and He will heal us.
And as we walk through the fire with Him not only will He heal us but we will come to know Him. 

And that is the most precious gift.

We can be healed of every wound, whether it is self-inflicted our caused by others. We will come out on the other end of this life whole.

How else could we have been brave enough to come to this earth, to live these hard lives, if we didn’t have a Savior?

Thursday, August 27, 2015

Charity in the grocery store

It's been a rough week. I've felt it and Elise has felt it and we have not gotten along much these past few days. I've been exhausted and overwhelmed and Elise has been particularly difficult.

This morning didn't go too bad so I chanced a trip to the grocery store, thinking that it would do us good to get out and there was a carton of raspberries on sale with my name on it.

Every time I go to the grocery store I'm sure everyone knows we are there when they hear me yell "ELISE!!!" a million times, and today was definitely not an exception.

When we go shopping I have Elise bring in her little pink shopping cart because most of the time it helps but today she wanted to run from me and run she did, so I had to keep yelling at her to "STOP!"

I told her that if she kept doing that she would lose her cart and would be riding in  mine. Eventually, after she purposefully turned a corner to lose me, I was done. I ran her down, threw her cart on the bottom of mine and with no other option, because Rylan was taking up the majority of my shopping cart, just held her.

 I was so mad.

And then I heard a voice behind me say, "Ma'am, do you need help?" It was one of the checkers. She'd watched me run down Elise and followed me down the aisle.

I was humbled. Humbled that someone had noticed me, seen a need and acted on it.

I don't know what I would have had her do to help me but I was finished shopping so she checked me out. As Elise grabbed her cart and started heading out the door when I was trying to pay and get all my bags, I expressed my frustration to this thoughtful checker. We talked a little about parenting and as I left she said, "Keep your head up, you're doing good."

As I walked to my car in the parking lot I realized that having that lady talk to me and walk through the store with me, even just briefly, calmed me down and helped me to feel better. I thought of how nice it would be to have someone always with me, how having someone else around can be a support and also give you perspective and uplift you. And as I longed for something like that a voice said to me "I'm with you."

How often do I forget, or rather how seldom do I remember, that He is there. I pray for help when the going gets tough and especially when I wake up and already know it's going to be a rough day, but rarely do I think of Him with me and use that thought not only to strengthen myself but to help me to be a better mother. Would I be yelling at Elise in the store if He were physically with me? If I did I would certainly be embarrassed.

I am grateful for a checker that was brave and took the time to track me down in the store and make sure I was okay.

I'm grateful for a Heavenly Father who is always there, whether I open my eyes to see Him or not.

Life is hard. Being a mother is often more than I can handle. There is no way that I could walk this life without Him and those He sends to be His hands.

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Heartbreak and Hypoglycemia

I had such high hopes for March. On March 1st I officially only had 90 days left of my pregnancy! For this month, instead of counting down the days I decided to count down the Mondays that I had to work, only five! And then after that only four Mondays in April and then I would practically be there! Well, maybe not, but I'm only working Mondays for certain through the end of April, so if I can just get through those Mondays I'll be doing good!

Turns out high hopes don't always make for good times. Looking back this month has gone by fast, I can't believe March is almost over! But despite that, it has been a long, hard month, with one thing after another continually building upon what I've already been dealing with for months. More than once I've reached my end. 

In the middle of all these troubles there is one good moment that I would like to share...

Last week I had to take the dreaded, mandatory glucose test to see if I have Gestational Diabetes. I passed it no problem when I was pregnant with Elise, so all I was worried about was surviving waiting until 8:30 in the morning to eat. I survived the test but when I went in for my appointment my doctor told me that I had failed it by two points and would have to take the three hour glucose test.

Little did I know that meant no eating past midnight then going in every hour for three hours to get my blood drawn and not being able to eat until I was done! And I couldn't even drink water!

I get sooo sick when I don't eat, plus I hate needles, so I made sure that Dr. Syndergaard knew that I wasn't happy. I asked him if we could just ignore the two points but he ignored me.

So I sucked it up and planned to do it Saturday morning when Cody would be home to watch Elise while I languished in bed and had what I planned on being a totally miserable day.

Thursday night came around and it felt more right to just go in Friday morning and get it over with. I talked it over with Cody and he agreed with that decision and said he would watch Elise for me and even take her in to work for an hour for me. (I desperately needed some me time so he was making an extra effort to let me have some.)

I prepared the best I could Thursday night and then Cody got a call saying he needed to come in earlier than he had planned on Friday morning so he took Elise to grandma's house.

The terrible morning I had planned on actually turned out to be quite nice! In between going into the hospital to drink the glucose drink and get my blood drawn I laid on the couch and read my book in complete silence. It was heavenly. When I went in for the third time to get my blood drawn for the second time and I only had one more hour to go I actually felt really good! So good, in fact, that I hopped in the shower and luxuriated in getting ready without a child slowing me down. It wasn't until I had about 20 minutes left that I started to feel hungry. And it wasn't until I actually got my blood drawn for the last time that I felt like I was going to die if I didn't get food in me RIGHT NOW! All-in-all not only did I survive but the morning was a success!

As I was getting ready and feeling okay I felt very grateful and very blessed. I was listening to Pandora and the song "Beautiful Heartbreak" by Hilary Weeks came on. I love this song. I knew as I listened that it was only by the grace of God and His amazing tender mercies that I was able to have the morning I did and that doing the test was going so well. I also had the feeling that a part of the reason my week had--again--gone so badly was so that I would be able to see more clearly His hand in my day, and feel His love and KNOW that He was there and doing this for me. That He loves me.



When things are always going well it's easy to lose sight of Him in our day-to-day. I am thankful for the ways in which He reminds me that He is there, even when it means that I have to go through some hard times. I am just so grateful that He is there and that He cares.

I've noticed that more often than not, Heavenly Father has more than one reason for doing the things that He does.

That night the power went off in the middle of the night which made the smoke detector beep which woke up Elise who we then were both up with for about three hours. Come Saturday morning we were all exhausted, and there was no way that I would have made it to do the glucose test like I had planned. That afternoon one of Cody's crowns fell off and he has been in pain ever since. I am grateful that the Spirit whispered to me to go in on Friday and that I listened!

Today I finally heard back from the nurse about my results and I passed! She went on to tell me that I actually had tested low which probably means that I have Hypoglycemia. I have been wondering if I am Hypoglycemic because even when I am not pregnant I get really sick when I don't eat. I had even asked the Phlebotomist if there was a way they could test for it, but she wasn't sure. That information alone was worth the test.

I know that God is there. I know that He has a plan and I know that plan is what is best for us. I'm grateful that He knows each on of us individually and that He tailors our plans to us specifically.