Hallelujah!

O billows rolling high, and thunder shakes the ground,
The lightnings flash, and tempest all around,
But Jesus walks the sea and calms the angry waves,
And the storm is passing over, Hallelujah!

The Storm is Passing Over, Charles A. Tind­ley

Last night, a dear friend of mine sent me a text, telling me that she was thinking of my son who died in infancy and expressing her desire to meet him some day in the afterlife. It touched my heart to think that she stopped to think of him in the midst of her busy life.

I was prompted to think of another dear friend who sat by me during my son's funeral. She never left my side. After the service, she sang the above song. The words have been on my mind today.

The storm is passing over...

The storm is passing over...

Hallelujah!

At the funeral, she only sang the chorus, so today I looked up the rest of the words to gain some context as I asked myself what it meant.

It is not a celebration of the fight being over. It's not the praise for immediate relief. It's the long hard trudge through the pounding rain and the sleet and the mud. The storm is raging overhead. But it's passing. It's moving. One day, it will be beyond us. One day, it will be over. It's the celebration of that "one day."

photo credit weather.com

Dieter F. Uchtdorf of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints says,

"Over the years, I have had the sacred opportunity to meet with many people whose sorrows seem to reach the very depths of their soul. In these moments, I have listened to my beloved brothers and sisters and grieved with them over their burdens. I have pondered what to say to them, and I have struggled to know how to comfort and support them in their trials.

 

"Often their grief is caused by what seems to them as an ending. Some are facing the end of a cherished relationship, such as the death of a loved one or estrangement from a family member. Others feel they are facing the end of hope—the hope of being married or bearing children or overcoming an illness. Others may be facing the end of their faith, as confusing and conflicting voices in the world tempt them to question, even abandon, what they once knew to be true."

 

He goes on to describe his proposed solution.

 

"Everyone’s situation is different, and the details of each life are unique. Nevertheless, I have learned that there is something that would take away the bitterness that may come into our lives. There is one thing we can do to make life sweeter, more joyful, even glorious.

 

"We can be grateful!

 

"It might sound contrary to the wisdom of the world to suggest that one who is burdened with sorrow should give thanks to God. But those who set aside the bottle of bitterness and lift instead the goblet of gratitude can find a purifying drink of healing, peace, and understanding."

 



It is a hard sermon to hear in height of the storm. I have incredible admiration and respect for the people who so humbly and so selflessly can be grateful in all circumstances.
 

Final Thought

 

"Could I suggest that we see gratitude as a disposition, a way of life that stands independent of our current situation? In other words, I’m suggesting that instead of being thankful for things, we focus on being thankful in our circumstances—whatever they may be."

 

Dieter F. Uchtdorf



What I Want, What I Need

"Oh, you can't always get what you want/But if you try sometimes you just might find/You get what you need"
 
The Rolling Stones

Since returning home from his mission in April, my brother hasn't completely made the transition back to "regular" life, which isn't a bad thing. I'm thinking about one way in particular. I love him to death, but he's still in Missionary Mode sometimes. I'll tell him about problems I'm dealing with sometimes and he gets this look, usually accompanied with touching his chin. He'll think for a minute and usually read me a scripture. He'll read it to me and ask me what my interpretation of it is, then he'll tell me what the applicable lesson is in his opinion.

photo credit Chadwick Williams

To my discredit, I'm sometimes a little frustrated with that type of reply. I just want to hear that yeah, my life really sucks right now. Yes, it's totally messed up that I have to deal with the aftermath of my husband's addiction and abuse. Yeah, it's not right that I'm raising my kids on my own and struggling to make things work. But what does validation really fix? It ultimately solves none of my problems.

Tonight, my dear brother gave me a blessing. He told me that the Lord is proud of my efforts to do what He asks of me. He also went on to say that God wants me to focus less on my troubles. Instead, he suggested, I should look for ways to help others, study the scriptures, and pray more regularly. My brother lastly counseled me to make wise choices about how I spend my time.

It wasn't the blessing I wanted. I didn't want to hear about what more I should be doing. I didn't want to hear about how strong my troubles are going to make me. I'm just weary.

But it was the blessing I needed.

I pray that my heart will be softened to accept the messages God sends to me. I really do want to follow Him and do what He asks of me. As I contemplated similar thoughts earlier in the day, I wondered to myself,

"Could it be said of me that I was slow to remember the Lord my God?"

May the answer always be a resounding no.

Final Thought

"Sadly enough, my young friends, it is a characteristic of our age that if people want any gods at all, they want them to be gods who do not demand much, comfortable gods, smooth gods who not only don’t rock the boat but don’t even row it."

Jeffrey R. Holland

What I Discovered at a Garden Party

"The way we talk to our children becomes their inner voice."

Peggy O'Mara


Someone I love told me today that I don't always have to be happy. I am twenty-two years old and that is the first time anyone has ever told me that outright. It's the first time I feel like that might be true.

It started at a baby shower that I had been feeling iffy about. I wanted to go, get out, and pay forward some of the immense kindness that has been shown to me, especially at the time of my wedding and the births of my children. It was also in the middle of our regular naptime, however. I decided to go. I had a fair time, but I just felt like an outsider mostly. Almost like what I'm going through has put an invisible wall between me and other people. I feel like I have to put up this front like I'm fine and I'm managing well on my own.

I know it's nothing that other people do to me. I do it to myself and I don't know why. But then I look at my mom. Someone brought her up at the baby shower. It went about like this:

Neighbor: "Where's your mom? She usually comes to stuff like this."
Me: "Oh, she's at home. I think she has a lot to do today"
Neighbor: "Is she having a bad day with her back?"
Me: "I'm not sure about today, but I know she's had a few rough ones lately."
Neighbor: "Is there anything I can do for her?"
(Apparently I accidently gave a "look" and possibly an eye roll)
Neighbor: "I know, I know... Stupid question. It's just that I know she'd be there if it were me."

She is almost disabled by her back injury and she keeps pushing on. I feel like I have to live up to that example- strong, fiercely independent, tree-chopping, lawn-mowing, truck-driving, hard working mother of mine. But that's not who I am. That's not who I'll ever be. If that's who I need to be to make her happy and thus feel good about myself, I better just get used to being a disappointment. I've completely lost myself looking for approval. Marne told me I'm living a lie. I've begun to understand what she means...

I'm not me.

Back to the baby shower. It was in a ward member's backyard. She has this wonderful, dreamy backyard. I can imagine it becoming a fairy garden at midnight. Charlie could have stayed all day. Eventually, I just wanted to get out of there. It's exhausting holding onto my "happy face." Charlie has started this thing in the last couple of months where he throws himself on the ground if he doesn't want to do what I'm asking of him, so I was trying to get him to the car with Noah in the carrier tied to my front and we were going down cement stairs when Charlie flopped. I managed to pick him up and comfort him, even with Noah and the diaper bag hanging off me.

That was just it. I tried to hold back the tears, but my baby sobbing in my arms and my feelings of loss, anger, fear, disappointment, insignificance, and rejection just overwhelmed me. Someone from the party saw and came to help me. She took Charlie and hugged me while I bawled. "Oh, baby girl," she said. "You have so much you're dealing with. You don't always have to be happy."

I start to cry again when I think about it because I want to believe her. I want to feel like it's okay to not have all my crap together. But I'm the mom. Someone has to hold it together. No one is coming to save me.

Later in the evening, I had a mental breakdown. It's making me crazy to try to be Wonder Woman. There are so many voices telling me to be strong, thin, religious, tireless, capable, bold, fearless, happy, independent, that I don't know what I would hear if it were just me in my head.

Final Thought

"In three words I can sum up everything that I've learned about life: it goes on."

Robert Frost

Remembering

"To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all."

Oscar Wilde

Today, I remembered myself in a stage of life that I had forgotten. I have always had a large vocabulary and surprising understanding of intellectual things for my age. When I was younger than three, I impressed an acquaintance of my parents' by describing to her a "deep gorge", possibly referring to the Grand Canyon. My mother still has no idea how I learned the word "gorge" at such a young age and was able to explain it accurately to someone else.

I was reminded of being a first grader. I remember being "talked to" by my teacher about an assignment- a daily journal. The problem was that while I had an advanced vocabulary and was linguistically accomplished for my age, my journal was just scribbles. Not even words. My teacher, I think, was baffled because in her eyes, I wasn't even trying. I remember my thoughts about the situation. I was emulating the look of cursive writing and imagining all the wonderful things I wanted to write, but didn't have the writing and mechanical skills to back just yet. The writing skills I had were simply not good enough to tell my story.

I remember being in fourth grade and participating in the Accelerated Reader program, which I thrived in and loved. In the fourth grade, I first tested as reading and comprehending at a tenth grade level. Not long after, I topped out the test with a post-high school score. In the little over a year that I participated in that program, I won every award available in the field of reading.

Up through Elementary school and even into Jr. High, I wrote creatively very frequently. Numerous times, I started what I was sure would be a best-selling teen novel. As a teenager, I became a harsh realist and wrote myself off as an overdramatic failure. I literally and figuratively tore up my hopes and dreams, and threw them away.

Today, I am a mom of three beautiful boys, separated from my husband and going to school full-time. Six months ago, I didn't dare dream of being in college. I thought that ship had sailed for me before I even got married and had children. I have been plodding through life for many years, just getting by. Today, I remembered.

My future is mine.

It's bright. It's open.

My mother thought of a phrase many times over when she was pregnant with me from My Turn on Earth. "I'm the one who writes my own story/I decide the person I'll be/what goes in the plot and what will not/is pretty much up to me."

My very name and the meaning behind it tells me I can go anywhere, do anything. I am capable, skilled, and have potential to become greater.

Thank you to the person who reminded me.

Final Thought

"If you can dream it, you can do it."

Walt Disney

The Paris House

"The secret of happiness is freedom. The secret of freedom is courage."

Thucydides


I have always have conflicting attitudes about traveling, it seems. The idea of it is very appealing to me, but the actual mechanics of getting ready and going somewhere have been a barrier for me, especially now that I'm alone with my boys. There's also an element of being away from what I know and sometimes not being able to get back to where I came from at my leisure. So, yesterday the boys and I took a day trip to the glamorous Paris, Idaho.

Paris is just north of Bear Lake, barely across the Utah-Idaho border. It took us about five hours of driving, round trip. We had been planning on staying overnight, but I suddenly didn't feel like staying around 6pm. So we packed up and drove home. This morning at 8am sharp, I started having incredible stomach pain. Since I was home, I had everything I needed to treat the pain and even had help with the boys. I feel blessed to be impressed to go home. It would have been awful to be stuck up there with my children while I was so miserable.

The home we visited was really awesome. The picture below is a plaque nailed to the original front door. In retrospect, I'm kicking myself for not taking more pictures of the home. It was beautifully kept and very fascinating.

 Gee is the married name of my mom's cousin's Pam. The home has been in her husband's family for four generations now. I would love to go back on a long weekend!

The boys and I went up to Paris to celebrate my great aunt and great uncle's 50th wedding anniversary. It was so much fun! Pam coordinated the whole thing. She and her family organized a great program and were so kind and generous. Below is a picture of the happy couple taken by Pam (or one of her daughters), my Uncle Bob and Aunt Kathy. Don't they look great?

The next ones are ones I took during the festivities. We had a piñata, water balloon fight, tons of other games, and good food. It was really nice to get away for a little. I used this trip to reward myself for turning in my first major college paper! After my first semester, I think the boys and I will take a longer trip.

 

Charlie kept swinging on this handrail until he fell off and scraped his ankle. Then he got back up and kept swinging. Check out the outfit he picked out and his awesome crepe paper headband!

 

 



 Charlie "Bucket Hat" Mendez, braving the water balloon war zone. Everyone just couldn't get enough of how cute and funny he was.

 



 Cousin Gerald, after Jeff rallied the troops against him. Gerald got them back. With the hose.

 
We got to go inside and watch from a safe distance after Charlie decided that the streets of this small town were a perfect place to play. I don't know what it is with him and the street lately...

 

Sweet little Noah was happy as usual. He was great on the trip. Bob's sister, Karen, came up with her adult daughters. They were impressed at what a happy, easy-going baby he was. That's my little man, all right!

 

Watching Gerald get soaked by a bucket of water that his four year old daughter dumped on his head while he was drying out on the sidewalk.

Overall, this weekend was about being brave and independent. I can go on vacation if I want! I'm the mom! I can make plans and preparations. I can make decisions. I can problem solve. I have the ability to get myself and my children somewhere and back safely. It seems that there's always been a voice in the back of my head, telling me that I am at the mercy of those around me. No more!

When I think about Paris, Idaho- the little bitty town- it's silly to think of everything that the trip means to me. But I feel liberated. I am now planning a trip to see a good friend of mine out of state at the end of summer semester. I feel like I can do things and go places! I'm beginning to feel free in a way I've never experienced.

Final Thought

"Freedom is what you do with what's been done to you."

Jean-Paul Sartre