Too much...

It still surprises me that telling someone new about My Little Reader's upcoming surgery completely knocks the breath out of me. 9 days and counting. Praying, hoping, pleading for the best possible outcome. We are so very, incredibly blessed to have so many faithful people sending constant prayers to heaven on our behalf. 

A prayer in my heart

So, tomorrow we see another specialist for My Little Reader. This time we are seeing a different pediatric ophthalmologist. After all we went through last time, I vowed I wouldn't go back to the other one ever, ever again. A few weeks ago My Little Reader went in for a regular eye appointment. The optometrist we saw last time doesn't work at that office anymore. I wish he had been there since he had a better understanding of the condition of her left eye. But either way the optometrist she saw felt there was concern that she has developed glaucoma in her good eye. And thanks to the wonder of the internet and a quick, easy and painful search I learned that glaucoma can lead to optic nerve atrophy just like in her bad eye. Which means she could end up with 2 bad eyes. Which leads to things that I don't even want to put on paper, having them in my heart and mind is hard enough. So, once again I have a prayer in my heart and on my lips. A mantra over and over, pleading constantly that this will be ok, that she will be ok, that medicine for once can help and make a difference and preserve the eyesight she has. I pray for the doctor that he is one of the awesome ones because heaven knows we have had both awful and amazing doctors and it makes all the difference. I pray that he will have a good bedside manner and that he will know the fears of a mother and will calm them regardless of what the outcome will be.  I pray for my little girl. I pray constantly that she will be able to see whatever she wants for the rest of her life. I pray that we have already gotten through the worst of this. I pray for the doctors that are making advances every day. I pray that they will be inspired and that they will create miracles that will touch her life. But mostly I just pray for peace. I pray for the same peace I felt with the 2nd MRI and that when I wake in the morning I won't have any of the fear, terror, or nausea that plagued the first MRI. But at the end of the day all fear, nausea, hope, tears, pleading aside, I know that Heavenly Father has a plan, that his plan is perfect and just as it should be even if I can't see it yet. 

The parable of the Legos

This year I have been asked to teach the Youth Sunday School. 12-14 year olds to be specific. If I am being completely honest, I am far less confident in my ability to fulfill this calling than my Bishop is. Hopefully he is right. A big part of the new curriculum this year is to teach like the Savior did. To share and learn the important truths of the Gospel through stories. Which sounds like a great idea. Then I realize that I tell stories for 5 year olds, not pre-teen and teenagers. But last week, I felt like I stumbled upon a pearl of greatness with my Parable of the Legos. And here is how it went.

This Christmas, Sugar and Spice was gifted many, many packages of legos with varying degrees of difficulty. Most he put together with the help of his oldest sister. However, there was one special set (a Ninjago motorcycle set) that he wanted to do all on his own.  It was a really hard one. I offered to help him, to show him the directions and which pieces to use and when, but he insisted time and again that he could "do it on my own, mama." And so I let him. I bet you can guess the result. 30 minutes later he came to me in tears. He had come to a part that he couldn't do because he had made a mistake earlier on and now the pieces weren't fitting together. He needed my help and I was happy to give it to him. It struck me how similar this was to times in our life when we really need the help of our Heavenly Father. Instead, in our stubbornness we say, "no, I got this, I can do it on my own" only before we know it we have strayed too far from the directions and suddenly we realize that we really can't do it on our own. That we do need his help and his direction to get to where we really want to be. And  just as soon as we ask, he is there again to help guide and support us as we find our way back.

The lesson was a nice way to show the students how important both agency and looking to the direction of Heavenly Father are. We are blessed with our agency, our ability to choose for ourselves. However, we are even more infinitely blessed with a Heavenly Father that gives us the tools to make the best decisions that will further bless our lives. 

It sounds so great here on "paper". Hopefully it was as meaningful for the students as it was for me. :)

My Arms are Full and My Heart is Heavy

This past week a terrible accident occurred in a family that we know from school. The news started coming in through text messages in the middle of our Kindergarten Thanksgiving feast. The youngest brother of a boy in My Princess in Training's class had been hurt, badly in an unforeseeable accident. As we were cleaning up our feast he was being life-flighted to a local hospital. As more and more news came in it became more and more clear that the outcome was not going to be the miracle that so, so many people were praying for. Hundreds of families in our community were offering up countless prayers for this family. But it wasn't to be. My heart has been so heavy for this family. The mom is a beautiful, bright, happy mom. I don't think I have ever seen her without a big smile on her face. And the baby at just 17 months was a perfect reflection of her. This week so, so many of us moms in this small town have taken this to heart. We are holding our little ones a little tighter for just a little longer. Today in church the talks were all about being thankful. I couldn't help but think of this sweet mom and her newly empty arms as my youngest wiggled and squirmed in mine. My arms are full and my heart is heavy for her arms that are not. So often I think I would have rather put down that wiggly, squirmy little boy, but today I chose to enjoy it. To be thankful for it. To really know that it won't last forever. It should never take such a sad event to make us slow down and pay better attention to each moment. 


This week I am so very thankful for my family. For my sweet kids that sometimes drive me so crazy. I am thankful that this sweet family has so many loving arms in our community that will be there to help hold them up. And I am so thankful that families are forever and that this sweet family knows this truth. Say a little prayer for them, will you? And hold those you love just a little tighter and for just a little longer. 

Just what the doctor ordered

I have been feeling a bit under the weather this week. Both in my head and my heart. The allergies are making me miserable---so miserable. Who knew that you could sneeze for 10 minutes straight?? Yuck. Then the allergies turned into a head cold. Stuffy nose, sore throat, headache. Bleh. But really, those can be treated with a quick trip to the drugstore for some medicine and soft Kleenex. 

Heartache is a little bit harder to treat. Some of you know that on Sunday we once again had the talk on The Roles of Fathers and Mothers. Really? How many times in one year can we have this talk? I guess until maybe someone gets it right. I sure hope they hurry up with that. This week's speaker was extra heavy on the "good" moms stay home tossed in with a handful of guilt about all the extra benefits that kids receive by having a mom that cares enough to stay home. I left the chapel crying and waited until it was over. Double bleh. Don't get me wrong. Stay at home moms are amazing and wonderful. They do hard and meaningful work. But so do us working moms. We are amazing and we do hard and meaningful work, too.

Today was our Teddy Bear Picnic. As my principal has told me, I have started to make quite the name for myself out here and most of my families are in my classroom by request, including 6 LDS families. One of those LDS moms is a regular helper in my classroom. She is very reserved and I often find myself wondering what on earth she thinks of me. Today, though, that all became clear. During the picnic she and her husband (who I had never met) returned to the classroom for something. When they came back her husband was amazed. He couldn't stop telling me how awesome the classroom was and how thankful they were to have me as their son's teacher. He told me that his wife is always talking about the fun and creative things that we do in our classroom and that they are lucky to have me. My heart sang. And that, my friends, was just what the doctor ordered.

(LDS) Women Are Incredible!

Earlier this week my visiting teachers actually had the opportunity to visit. During the school year it seems that our schedules never meet up. With school, ballet, after-school activities, Ben's travel, etc. every date we set somehow got missed. But first thing Tuesday morning they came by for a visit. I feel like I already know them so well. I teach one sister's daughter in Primary every week. And the son of the other sister often spends some amount of time on my lap during sharing time to discourage crawling around on the floor barking. (I am sooo not kidding!) 

The mom of that little boy was in charge of sharing the message and she choose Elder Cook's conference talk "LDS Women Are Incredible!" She read several quotes from the talk, but one stood out. "Our sisters throughout the Church consistently succor the weak, lift up the hands which hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees. One Relief Society president who acknowledged this extraordinary service said, 'Even when sisters serve, they are thinking, 'If only I could have done more."

Today was our Harkin's Movie Day. Yippee! It finally feels like summer. Between a broken car and intense ballet schedule we haven't done much in the way of summer fun. As usual we arrived as the movie was starting. There were 2 theaters, we went to the first only to find out that there weren't 4 seats together. So we headed to the other one. As we were entering that same sister was walking in behind us. She and her kids sat right behind us and she asked me to watch her boys while she ran to the bathroom. As she got up to leave she tripped over a step. I watched in slow motion as she stumbled and fell right on her stomach. Did I mention that she is 35 weeks pregnant?? I ran to her and she was crying and clearly had the wind knocked out of her. I ran from the theater to find an employee to help. Thankfully the mom that had been sitting behind us watched over both sets of kids. The theater staff wanted to call the paramedics to check her out, but she refused service. Eventually we got her up and out of the theater and she called her doctor who ordered her to the hospital to get checked out. 

So would you believe I stuffed her three boys, plus my three kids into the car to bring them home. Not only that, but I took all six to the grocery store to get stuff for lunch. The seven of us hung out for the next 5+ hours. 

As the day was unfolding I was reminded of the quote above. My friend was very reluctant to send the boys home with me. She didn't want to burden me. But really, who wants to take 3 VERY active boys to the ER for a 4 hour non-stress test. Personally, I think that would only ensure failing that test. And again I was reminded that I have an army but not only that, I am also part of an army. An army of incredible, generous, selfless women that are there to step in and step up no matter what the need. Even as I was leaving the movie theater I ran into 2 families from church and 1 from school that all offered to help with the boys if I needed it. And it just confirms to me once again, that we have found the perfect place to raise our kids. A place that embraces so many of those old-fashioned values that are sometimes hard to find in our fast-paced world. 


P.S. My friend passed her non-stress test, but will probably be very sore for a few days. Keep her in your thoughts.


P.P.S. Because so many of the women in my army are of other faiths, I put LDS in parenthesis in the title. The women I know are incredible regardless of their faith. :)

Say a little prayer

The nephew of our sweet friends, Tom and Kristen, passed away in his sleep yesterday. You can read their story here. Say a little prayer for them.

Ummm...I think I am done. Keeping Christ in Christmas

Today we were asked to talk about Keeping Christ in Christmas. When we were first married, I was asked to give this same talk. I think it was probably only the 2nd talk I had given since joining the Church. It was also easily the best talk I have given.

As this year has gone by since we moved into the ward, I kept wondering when the call to talk would come and I felt all along that it would be at Christmas time. I honestly thought that I would be able to review that talk I had given so many years ago and draw on the stories that I had told. Once the call did come, I searched high and low, it was nowhere to be found which was really a blessing in disguise as it gave me the opportunity to uncover and tell new stories.

Today I will focus on three areas where we can practice Keeping Christ in Christmas. The first is changing our focus from what we receive to what we give.

In the December 1995 Ensign Thomas S. Monson wrote: “What did you get for Christmas?” This is the universal question among children for days following that most celebrated holiday of the year. A small girl might reply, “I received a doll, a new dress, and a fun game.” A boy might respond, “I received a pocketknife, a train, and a truck with lights.” Newly acquired possessions are displayed and admired as Christmas day dawns, then departs. The gifts so acquired are fleeting. Dolls break, dresses wear out, and fun games become boring. Pocketknives are lost, trains do nothing but go in circles, and trucks are abandoned when the batteries that power them dim and die. If we change but one word in our Christmas question, the outcome is vastly different. “What did you give for Christmas?” prompts stimulating thought and causes tender feelings to well up and memory’s fires to glow ever brighter. Giving, not getting, brings to full bloom the Christmas spirit. Enemies are forgiven, friends remembered, and God obeyed. The spirit of Christmas illuminates the picture window of the soul, and we look out upon the world’s busy life and become more interested in people than things. To catch the real meaning of the spirit of Christmas, we need only drop the last syllable and it becomes the Spirit of Christ.” (end quote). 


If you take a moment and think to Christmases past what memories flood your mind? I am sure that if I sat and thought about it a moment I could recall some of the gifts that were handed to me from under the tree last year. But as I think to last Christmas the memory that shines through was a sweet act of kindness offered by a friend. 


Michelle didn’t have much money for gifts last year. Job changes had caused her husband to move to San Diego while she stayed in caring for her two small children and preparing to sell their home. While money was tight, her heart was big. She had several friends that she wanted to give Christmas gifts to. So, one Saturday morning amidst the rush of Christmas she opened her home and invited parents to drop off their children for several hours. While Michelle gathered in the children for crafts, snacks, and games. The parents were given the gift of time to run errands, wrap presents, finish last minute shopping, or simply share time together. This act of service was truly in keeping with the true meaning of Christmas. It was easily one of the most memorable gifts I have ever received and it didn’t cost a thing. It won’t go out of style, wear out, or break. 


Yesterday we had the opportunity to offer the same invitation to some of our dear friends. A gift of time, we called it. For five hours, we had 15 kids in our home and it was wonderful. As the parents came by to drop off their children you could see in their faces how much it meant to them-surely far more than anything I could have bought at a store. 


President Monson also said, “The Christmases we remember best usually have little to do with worldly goods but a lot to do with the spirit of caring, the spirit of love, and the spirit of compassion.” 5 years from now I doubt my children will remember the toys they will receive next week, but I hope that they will always remember sharing a day with their friends. 


As you look forward to this coming week, look for opportunities to serve one another and to create memories that are wrapped up in love and charity rather than ribbons and bows. Seek out opportunities to give more often than you receive. And to give with a humble heart and generous spirit. 


The second way we can keep Christ in Christmas is remembering to say it. Over the years, the phrase “Merry Christmas” has been heard less and less in greetings between strangers. Somewhere along the line it became politically incorrect and many people began saying “Happy Holidays” or “Season’s Greetings” for fear of possibly offending someone. 


The other night I happened to be out shopping. After trying on some clothes the attendant wished me “Happy Holidays”. While her greeting was polite it seemed automatic and without emotion. Several years ago I decided to always say Merry Christmas this time of year, whether it be to fitting room attendant, waitress, cashier, colleague, or otherwise So I replied to her, “Merry Christmas” Her face lit up and she said, “Merry Christmas to you sweet heart. I hope all your dreams come true.” 


While it might seem that saying “Merry Christmas” is a small way to keep the true meaning of Christmas alive, it is a small thing that isn’t really all that small at all. Because at the heart of that simple phrase, “Merry Christmas” is a declaration of your belief in Jesus Christ and in the miracle of his birth. Every time you say Merry Christmas you are sharing the core belief of your testimony. That Christ our Savior was born so many years ago on that night in I encourage you to take every opportunity to speak those sweet words each chance you get in the coming days. And each time you offer this sweet greeting, let your heart turn to the savior and remember if only for a moment the miracle of his birth. 


Finally, as we look for ways to keep Christ in Christmas seek out those gifts that cannot be wrapped. Howard W Hunter counsels: “This Christmas, mend a quarrel. Seek out a forgotten friend. Dismiss suspicion and replace it with trust. Write a letter. Give a soft answer. Encourage youth. Manifest your loyalty in word and in deed. Keep a promise. Forgo a grudge. Forgive an enemy. Apologize. Try to understand. Examine your demands on others. Think first of someone else. Be kind. Be gentle. Laugh a little more. Express your gratitude. Welcome a stranger. Gladden the heart of a child. Take pleasure in the beauty and wonder of the earth. Speak your love and then speak it again.” 


Earlier this month I was shopping at Cost Plus and I came across the perfect card to go with this quote. The card is entitled, The Greatest Gifts and reads- “May we break boundaries, tear down walls and build on the foundation of goodness inside of each of us. May we look past differences, gain understanding, and embrace acceptance. May we reach out to each other, rather than resist. May we be better stewards of the earth, protecting, nurturing, replenishing the beauties of nature. May we practice gratitude for all we have, rather than complain about our needs. May we seek cures for the sick, help for the hungry, and love for the lonely. May we share our talents, give our time, and teach our children. May we hold hope for the future very tenderly in our hearts and do all we can to build for bright tomorrows. And may we love with our whole hearts, for that is the only way to love.” 


I loved this card because with such simple language it truly speaks of the many ways that we can move our focus toward the Spirit of Christ. While fulfilling each item on that list couldn’t possibly happen in the next few days. One item on that list calls out to me year after year. Help for the hungry. 


When Ben and I were first married like many newlyweds we didn’t have a lot of money. I can remember one day in December I was at the grocery store and near the checkout they had bags of food that you could purchase and then place in a donation box for the local families in need. One particular night I was at the store and saw the bags. I felt prompted to pick up one of those bags, but in considering our finances ultimately chose not to. As I was driving home I was flooded with a feeling of remorse. Sure, we didn’t have a lot, but we had a lot more than some people. With a $5 donation, I could have kept someone from being hungry if even for just one day. It was a lesson that I have never forgotten. To this day, as soon as the donation bags arrive I can’t go the grocery store without adding one to my cart. 


Maybe the next time you find yourself in the grocery store you also will feel the prompting to add an item or two to the donation box. A simple act that so purely honors the life of our Savior. “For I was an hungered and ye gave me meat. I was thirsty and ye gave me drink, I was a stranger and ye took me in… Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” 


In the coming days I encourage you to actively seek ways to do as Christ would do. To remember his birth and to act in ways that honor his life. Take this week to truly focus on the real meaning of the joyous day of his birth. In our home, we will be reading the story of his birth each night as a bedtime story. I encourage you to do the same. I know that as you do this your spirit will be lifted and your days will be blessed. And I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

The rest of the story

I have been wanting to write down some of my thoughts about the 2nd MRI since the day it happened. At first I waited because I didn't want to be overly optimistic just in case things did not turn out the way I wanted it. And since we learned the good news I have just been overly busy with some projects (ones you will just have to wait and see!) and with work things. Anyway, there were definitely things that I wanted to share and I realize I need to do it now while it is still so fresh and while it still matters so much. So here goes...

With the first MRI I was a mess. The entire drive from our home in Sahuarita to the hospital I went back and forth between almost crying and almost throwing up. The songs on the radio were all wrong. Songs that reminded me of exactly how much I would lose if the test revealed the worst. And then, as you know, the whole MRI experience did not go as well as it should have. It broke my heart that I had spent so much time convincing My Little Reader that the MRI would not touch or hurt her only to be turned into a liar as they stuck her with an unexpected IV within the first 5 minutes of our visit. Holding onto her during the test was also heart wrenching. Standing there praying and silently begging that the test would reveal nothing. Again on the verge of either throwing up or crying. Only to have the whole test be a waste. Heart breaking. Then to be told the news that with the next MRI she would go under general anesthesia. Suddenly the test that I had promised would not hurt her was getting more and more complicated.

Fast forward a month. Yes. We had to wait a whole month for the second MRI. With school starting I was able to push that worry away for awhile. But starting the Sunday before the second MRI I was again in a constant state of begging and pleading and not sleeping. Nothing, nothing, nothing. Please be nothing. You know how the what-ifs can take over your thoughts. Well, they certainly had mine.

But, come Friday, driving into town I was not a mess. There was no urge to throw up or cry. I felt an unexpected peace and calm. The whole day was completely different from our first experience. We were given so much information and we were talked through the whole procedure by both a nurse and Dr. Esparza while My Little Reader happily played away with the toys. Dr. Esparza deserves special mention here. They call him the child whisperer and I don't doubt it for one minute. He was amazing. He sat on the exam table right next to My Little Reader and had her laughing hysterically. No fear and crying like the first time. Just see for yourself.

And when it came time, they marched on down the hallway without us. Now, if you had seen how hard the first MRI was for her and how scared she was and how upset about the poking in her arm (IV) you would know just how much of a miracle it was that she walked down the hall with that doctor and did not once look back for her mom and dad. She was off to take her test without us and she was laughing while she went. What an incredible blessing that was.

And just to show you exactly how much I knew that everything was going to turn out right this time...we didn't even sit and wait in the waiting room. Nope, we went to the cafeteria and had a snack. The peace and calm that I felt that day were proof in my heart that my little girl was going to be just fine.

Look! They were smart enough to weigh her!

A pain free blood pressure check!

Waking up happy!

Now...it did take several days to finally receive that official news...but it was the news that we had prayed so hard for! Just another reminder through the life of my little girl that prayers are answered and miracles do happen every day. I told her, though, two big miracles in such a short life, she better wait awhile to put her mommy through another one!

Hole in my heart

I got some news today that left a hole in my heart.
I know you feel it too.
I feel it with you.
I am thankful for the time I had with this great man.
Knowing him helped to fill another hole.
A hole that was the start of big changes in my life.
Losing one
helped me to understand that I will have
the sweet joy
of seeing both again.
For that I am thankful beyond words.

Tender Mercies

Deciding to change classrooms has been both an easy and very difficult decision at the same time. I have always known that my days in the current classroom were numbered. There was little doubt in my mind that one day I would have to move on. But truly it wasn't even a little bit on my radar that I would be the one requesting the move. That was the first sign that this change was something bigger than me. I felt peace in the decision. But doubt is an evil temptress. Since making the decision I find myself looking around my classroom and questioning "Well, how am I going to make that work? Will I even have room for that? How much will I miss this great, big beautiful room? What was I thinking?" It certainly hasn't helped that the few people that know seem to share the same mantra-reminding me repeatedly of how much bigger the current room is. And so I find myself questioning my decision. Wondering if I was too hasty in making it. Tonight I was blessed to have time to both show my mother-in-law the two classrooms and to discuss the change. She too is facing big changes at school that she feels both peaceful and a little worried about. And she laid it out perfectly for me. She said, "Heavenly Father has given you his answer. It is up to you to listen." And he has. I suppose it is time I quit worrying and turn it over to him.

Later I went shopping. As I walked into the store I was drawn to a picture frame with a familiar quote, "A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart, and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words." Jan (my new classroom next door neighbor) is that friend in my life these days. She has been my cheerleader and I have been hers. It was the perfect confirmation and exactly what I needed. Just one of several tender mercies this week confirming what I knew in my heart the instant that crazy idea to switch classrooms popped in my head. It is not about the room. Moving next to my friend Jan is no doubt exactly where I need to be. The rest is just furniture and I am a crafty one...I will make it work one way or another! Even if it means my sweet husband never gets to park his car in our fancy new three car garage. Sorry, honey. Just one more benefit of marrying a kindergarten teacher!

Sometimes Sundays are Hard...

This post has been rolling around in my head since Sunday. I have been trying so hard to find just the right words to put on to paper the feelings in my heart. Sometimes Sundays are hard. Sometimes on Sundays a well meaning member of my church will take the stand and speak of things that he or she wholeheartedly believes are true and right and absolute.

In my head I know that his or her words are
not meant to hurt
not meant to make me feel small
not meant to make me feel that I am less of a mother
that I don't love my children enough
and yet that is how I feel for days and days later.

Like a broken record playing in my head I hear his words repeating. Mothers are meant to raise the children. Their priority should be at home. Something or other about giving the raising of my children over to a babysitter and how wrong that is.

I work incredibly hard to raise my children well. To love them with every ounce of my heart. To teach them to be good people. And even with all of this, because I choose to be a kindergarten teacher, I am made to feel like less. It happens in ways both big and small. Both are equally painful. Hearing in a talk in Sacrament that the right thing to do is stay home and raise the children, implying sometimes not so subtly that my choice is the wrong one. Sitting silently through a Relief Society lesson where the topic strays to how perfect and right it is to be a stay-at-home-mom blessed each day with the task of raising their children, how grateful they are to not have been tempted by the ways of the world into believing that work outside the home could ever be more important than that of raising your own children. Being left out of the circle of moms, friends that share their daily joys and hardships of raising kids, a group I so desperately wanted to belong to, but somehow was not qualified to join.

I look for signs in my children that I have made a mistake. That I have somehow let them down while touching the lives of more than 200 other children.

In 10 years I have touched the lives of more than 200 children.

How incredible is that! At times I have been the only hug, the one to wipe away the tears, to provide the breakfast or the lunch for the child that doesn't have any, I have been the saving grace that made the call-the one that helped free the child from a dangerous home. I have taught them to read, to be kind to one another, to believe in themselves, I have loved them each and every one. I have made a difference.

Remembering this my heart soars

And while I felt small after his talk, wanted to run from that Church, wanted to be brave enough just once to speak up and say "please, don't judge me, or the life I love, a life that is blessed with 20 new children to love and help raise each year, loving them does not mean I love my own any less." I have to be content in knowing that I have great kids, they are well loved by me and others. Their lives have been touched and blessed by a circle of love, charity, and kindness. Because I have worked they have had more arms to love them, more people to teach them, more examples of how to be Christlike in their words and actions, they have had Leslie and Tara-amazing women with so much love and patience, I aspire to be more like them. And slowly...ever so slowly...the ache from Sunday...the deep in my heart...tears in my eyes...heartbreaking feelings of self-doubt...so slowly starts to heal...until the next time. But for today, for Tuesday, I know that I am exactly where I belong- doing exactly what I was called to do. I am a mother and a teacher and I am blessed to have both- to have so many sweet children to love, care for, and teach each day-both my own and others.

More great words to remember

This is our one and only chance at mortal life—here and now. The longer we live, the greater is our realization that it is brief. Opportunities come, and then they are gone. I believe that among the greatest lessons we are to learn in this short sojourn upon the earth are lessons that help us distinguish between what is important and what is not. I plead with you not to let those most important things pass you by as you plan for that illusive and non-existent future when you will have time to do all that you want to do. Instead, find joy in the journey—now...Let us relish life as we live it, find joy in the journey, and share our love with friends and family.

So grateful for a Prophet!

If you are still in the process of raising children, be aware. The tiny fingerprints that show up on almost every newly cleaned surface, the toys scattered around the house, the piles and piles of laundry lying around to be tackled, will disappear all too soon. And, you will, to your surprise, miss them profoundly.

Thomas S. Monson

Full circle... looking for the right words

I have been pondering this post for several days. My struggle comes from wanting to share something that I believe deep down to my core but that might sound unlikely or odd to some of my friends and family that have different beliefs than we do in my little family. Despite this, much like bearing my testimony at church, this feeling in the pit of my stomach just keeps urging me to share... so here I go.

Full Circle...
11 years ago yesterday I was awoken by one of the most heartbreaking calls of my life. As I sit here I can think of maybe only one other call that even comes close. Early that morning my dad was calling to tell me that his dad had passed away. My grandpa was one of my most favorite people in the world. I loved vacations to his home in Carlsbad. Every Saturday morning we would have eggs, flat bacon, orange rolls, and cranberry juice in small glass juice cups. He came all the way to Tucson for my high school graduation. And I knew that as his oldest grandchild he was proud of me. I can still picture every detail of his home. I can still see him sleeping on the couch, head thrown back and mouth hanging open.


My grandpa's death came amidst a year of turmoil. My job was rotten. I worked at a grocery store and was constantly being laid off because they couldn't guarantee me 20 hours in single store. So I would spend the week driving all over town picking up shifts for people that called in sick. I was also at the end of a rotten relationship with a guy that wouldn't know the truth if it was looking him in the eyes. Having my grandpa pass away so unexpectedly broke my heart. We all drove out to Carlsbad for the funeral. I stayed a few extra days with my mom to help clean and close up the house until it could be sold, another rotten experience. Selling the house was much too final for me.


While we were in Carlsbad, my mom mentioned that she has seen an ad for Sears saying that they were hiring. I did apply for the job and expected something along the lines of the shoe department or clothing. Instead I found myself in the most unlikely of all jobs...the automotive department. However, in that auto shop I met two of the kindest young men I have ever had the privilege of knowing. Their example led me to join the LDS Church where among other things I have learned about eternal families and our existence before birth.


Fast forward 6 years...When My Princess in Training was born I wanted nothing more than for her birthday to not be the 13th or the 15th (tax day, yuck!). So two years later when I went to the hospital to have Sugar and Spice I still had a strong aversion to having a baby with a birthday that would fall on Friday the 13th every couple of years. I know that might sound ridiculous, but at the time it made sense. Blame it on the hormones!


At some point during the day my mom reminded me that it was the anniversary of my grandpa's passing and in that moment I had no doubt that this was exactly the day that my son was meant to be born. I knew that he and my grandpa had been together in the hours before my son was born. I knew that though they would never meet in this life, there would always be an unbreakable connection between my son and his great-grandpa. I knew that they had great conversations with each other on the other side of the veil and that some part of my grandpa would always be tucked in my son's heart. I knew that being born on that day was meant to always be a reminder to me about the eternal nature of families and the promise that one day I will see my grandpa again. And in that moment, my life had come full circle a day that had once been filled with sorrow was filled with happiness beyond measure.

I remember

My sweet sister-in-law posted a great message on her blog about the events that changed our world 8 years ago. I thought I would follow her lead.

There is a country song, "Where were you when the world stopped turning" that still plays on the radio today. When I hear it my heart always breaks a little bit. There is one line about teaching a class full of innocent children that feels like it was written for me. 8 years ago September 11th was my first day of school at a small charter school. I had a class of just 8 children that day. There was much discussion about proceeding for the day or sending the students home. We opted to let the students stay unless their families came for them. I remember the 7th/8th grade teacher had the news on in our lunch room and would come down with updates throughout the day.

But even before that I remember waking up to the radio that morning. The news already coming in waves. I remember the pictures. The videos of the tragedy unfolding before our eyes. I remember driving to work and hearing the reports. There was no music that day. I also remember when the planes stopped flying overhead. Before that day I had never paid that much attention to the frequency of the planes over Phoenix, but when they were grounded for days I remember the sky looked so empty.

I remember the heartache I felt for how many were lost and consequently how many were left behind. It is a little hard to believe that so many years have already passed. Or that we still have troops fighting something that began so long ago. I am grateful beyond words for the sacrifices they and their families make to protect our freedoms. I am awed at the sacrifices they make, sacrifices I don't think I would have the courage to make.

I was saddened that there was no remembrance at our school today. While I understand that none of our students were born when these events occured, with many of our families serving in the military the students lives are still directly affected. And we should have done something to remember this event.

I remember the stories of the lives of police and firefighters that were lost as they tried to save people still inside the towers. The cruelty of even more lives being lost as they were trying so desperately to save others. I remember the stories of searchers scouring the rubble looking for anyone that might have survived and how heartbreaking it was that so few were found. I remember the amazing stories of courage that surfaced of the flight that didn't go down without a fight. I remember how much more important it became to tell those around you exactly how much they meant to you. To me that remains the most important lesson of that day...to cherish your loved ones, let the little things slide, and never take anything for granted.

I remember...

Forgiveness

Today at work something was said. A story was shared and it involved someone important to me. There is no doubt that it was not meant to be unkind, but feelings were hurt. I think normally I wouldn't have thought twice about what was said, but there were other stresses and worries and somehow this was the proverbial straw.

This person telling the story is a friend that I cherish. I am lucky to have her as both a colleague and friend. I know that my life is better because she is part of it. But I didn't know how to tell her that my feelings had been so badly hurt. So, rather than go to the source, I told another friend. Lucky for me, that friend did go straight to the source and rated me out! Long story short, the friend came seeking forgiveness...which was easy to give. Her friendship is priceless. I certainly didn't want to be mad or hurt, I wanted everything to be as it was before the story had been shared.


It got me thinking about how blessed we are to live forgiven. But beyond that how important it is to seek that forgiveness when necessary. And perhaps most importantly, how much our Heavenly Father wants to grant us that forgiveness. He doesn't want there to be a gulf between us and Him. He wants to wipe the slate clean. To start fresh and move forward. And the best part is that the relationship only continues to grow stronger.


So here's to moving forward!