Confess not His Hand

Here's another scripture that I own--Doctrine and Covenants 59:21.  I earned this one on my own.  It's been 20 years this fall since I came home from my mission and I used this reference in a talk probably about 20 years ago this month.  I remember my Chinese was good and I was translating for some new missionaries at the conference .  We were all supposed to have prepared a talk so that anyone who was called on at the conference could give  a good talk and impress the general authority.  I didn't prepare.  There's a lot to do as a missionary and I had really hit my stride by this point.  Besides, what were the odds it would be me that was called on?  Odds are something I've really learned to hate.

Anyway with nothing prepared, I came upon this scripture while someone else was talking and thought that it would be perfect.

21  And in nothing doth man offend God, or against none is his wrath kindled, save those who confess not his hand in all things, and obey not his commandments.

It turned out to be a great talk and an experience I've thought back on many times--not advocating to be unprepared, but that God doesn't care about anything as much as us deciding that He's insignificant and unnecessary in our lives.  Now I must admit, I've always focused on the first part of the verse--which is something I hate when  people do, but anyway I have.  Maybe because it's easier for me to keep commandments than to accept that I can't do everything on my own.

This means something to me now because I'm not being as good at acknowledging my Heavenly Father as I should be.  I told a friend recently that if I let go and accept that Ian being away from me is part of  "the plan"  (which I was able to do a little easier in the beginning),  then that means I can't feel robbed anymore.  If I say that God knows better, then I have to be okay with His decision.  How can I do that?  This is not what is best for me.  Even if it's what's best for Ian--which doesn't sit well either, by the way.

Back to the scripture.  I love it.  I guess I love hard things.  Duh!  It makes me struggle.   It makes me reach.  It makes me want to not offend God, so I try to accept.  I try to keep the commandments.  I try to not give up.

I try to remember that I'm Not In Charge.

Leaping for Joy

I've heard the term jumping for joy.  I've seen "leaping for joy"  in the scriptures.  I'm not sure I've ever done it.  I know someone who did. 

Ian always jumped when he was excited and it wasn't easy for him.  It was lop-sided because of his balance issues, but when he was thrilled about something,  it showed--from head to foot.  He would rub his hands together in front of his chest like he was cooking up a plan and his eyes would get wide and he would jump his little heart out.

I hope you can jump in just your spirit. 
I hope he's jumping everyday.  I hope he's joyful.

Getting Your Feet Wet

I looked up some origins and definitions for this phrase on the Internet.  These are a few of the best:

get your feet wet  (mainly American) to experience something for the first time, especially something that involves taking a risk

 If you get your feet wet, you gain your first experience of something.

When someone says “get your feet wet” it basically means to get familiar with something by starting out with something simple. It’s used in a lot of different contexts – for instance, when someone is starting a new job and their boss gives them a simple assignment, the boss may say “You can get your feet wet with this assignment.”

The phrase “get your feet wet” was originated by the fact that when people are learning to swim, the very first thing they have to do is “get their feet wet” by stepping into the pool.

to start a new activity or job.

getting ones feet wet = testing the waters

It's an old saying - one that people over 50 would use.

_________________________

I think the phrase comes from the Bible.

Joshua 3

 ¹And Joshua rose early in the morning; and they removed from Shittim, and came to Jordan, he and all the children of Israel, and lodged there before they passed over.
 ²And it came to pass after three days, that the officers went through the host;
 ³And they commanded the people, saying, When ye see the ark of the covenant of the LORD your God, and the priests the Levites bearing it, then ye shall remove from your place, and go after it.
 ⁴Yet there shall be a space between you and it, about two thousand cubits by measure: come not near unto it, that ye may know the way by which ye must go: for ye have not passed this way heretofore.
 ⁵And Joshua said unto the people, Sanctify yourselves: for to morrow the LORD will do wonders among you.  

Here's the first sign that this phrase has to do with faith.  Joshua told the people a miracle was coming.  He even says when.  He doesn't say he will do it but that the Lord will do it.  He tells them to get ready.   

   ⁶And Joshua spake unto the priests, saying, Take up the ark of the covenant, and pass over before the people. And they took up the ark of the covenant, and went before the people.
 ⁷And the LORD said unto Joshua, This day will I begin to magnify thee in the sight of all Israel, that they may know that, as I was with Moses, so I will be with thee.
   ⁸And thou shalt command the priests that bear the ark of the covenant, saying, When ye are come to the brink of the water of Jordan, ye shall stand still in Jordan.

Then the Lord says okay, I'm going to show everyone you are my new prophet-- but it's going to take a lot of faith on their part.  They are going to have to trust me 'cause it's going to be scary.  They will have to GET THEIR FEET WET.   

 ⁹And Joshua said unto the children of Israel, Come hither, and hear the words of the LORD your God.
 ¹⁰And Joshua said, Hereby ye shall know that the living God is among you, and that he will without fail drive out from before you the Canaanites, and the Hittites, and the Hivites, and the Perizzites, and the Girgashites, and the Amorites, and the Jebusites.
 ¹¹Behold, the ark of the covenant of the LORD of all the earth passeth over before you into Jordan.
 ¹²Now therefore take you twelve men out of the tribes of Israel, out of every tribe a man.
 ¹³And it shall come to pass, as soon as the soles of the feet of the priests that bear the ark of the LORD, the LORD of all the earth, shall rest in the waters of Jordan, that the waters of Jordan shall be cut off from the waters that come down from above; and they shall stand upon an heap.  

There's the condition.  If you do this...that will happen.  God loves conditions.  Love and resurrection are really the only things He gives us unconditionally.  

 ¹⁴And it came to pass, when the people removed from their tents, to pass over Jordan, and the priests bearing the ark of the covenant before the people;
 ¹⁵And as they that bare the ark were come unto Jordan, and the feet of the priests that bare the ark were dipped in the brim of the water, (for Jordan overfloweth all his banks all the time of harvest,) 

I think this is really significant because not only are they walking into the big flowing river but it's running so high at this time that it's overflowing the banks.  

 ¹⁶That the waters which came down from above stood and rose up upon an heap very far from the city Adam, that is beside Zaretan: and those that came down toward the sea of the plain, even the salt sea, failed, and were cut off: and the people passed over right against Jericho.
 ¹⁷And the priests that bare the ark of the covenant of the LORD stood firm on dry ground in the midst of Jordan, and all the Israelites passed over on dry ground, until all the people were passed clean over Jordan.

They did it.  Even though they were probably afraid.  I know faith and fear supposedly don't coexist, but  I think faith is kinda like bravery--it's doing what you are supposed to whether you are afraid or not.

I've always remembered  Elder Packer's story of faith.  He was told by another apostle that faith meant taking a few steps out of the light and into the darkness and knowing that the light would follow.  Now I can add to that this story of stepping into deep flowing waters and knowing they will dry up--

and only my feet would be wet.

Miracles

This is probably totally obvious, but I've been thinking about it today so. . .
Why did Jesus do miracles?  Why do any of the prophets do miracles?  What's the purpose? 

We are shown all through the scriptures examples of people who saw miracles and didn't believe anyway.  We can read that "there is no witness until after the trial of your faith"  so we can see that miracles don't make testimonies and certainly don't bring conversion.

So, what is the purpose of them?  Are they simply to prepare us for the miracle of the atonement?  Are they to give us courage that all is possible?  Why is it so important that miracles haven't ceased other than just that things are the same as before?  What?

This is a question--a real question.
Somebody answer it.

Hiding Isn't Always a Game

I want to hide today.  I want to hide from life.  I want to hide from responsibility and obligation and just the grind of things.  I want to hide from my kids.  I want to hide that I hate when they are sick.  I want to not be reminded by a silly little nose bleed of  "the silly little nose bleed" that nearly took Ian's life.  I want to forget the blood transfusions and the complications for transplant that came from a little nose bleed.  I want to forget the lecture I got about being able to deal with things that are as insignificant as a nose bleed.  I want to cling to the idea that Lucy's nose bleed is nothing, even though she's sick and she's never had one before in her life.

I want to hide.  I want to forget.  I want to forget remarks people make.  I want to forget that someone told me that they had replaced their buddy with a new one.  In my world buddy is capitalized because it's a name and it's Ian's name and he can't be replaced.  I want to hide that sometimes I wish Mikey felt like Ian so I could feel like I was holding him for a minute.  I want to block out things like even Ian's toes were distinctive.  Mikey took off his shoes and put his feet out the window in the car today and I looked at them and thought to myself--I even miss his toes.

I want to hide that I'm afraid.  I'm still afraid.  Afraid that I can't endure one more thing.  Not even a little thing.  Afraid that I will not be strong enough.  What if I turn that little corner and decide that there really isn't a plan for me and God really doesn't care.  It's not that big of leap.  I'm afraid of it happening to Lucy or to Keith.  He won't be bishop forever.  I'm afraid that when he doesn't have to be there, he might decide he doesn't want to be there. 

I want to hide that I'm angry and lonely and confused and weak.  My friend told me recently that my posts were getting less angry over time.  I think I'm just not letting it out as much.  I'm not writing as often and I'm not sitting here bawling for an hour on one post  (except for now.)   I'm not staying up until 1 or 2 in the morning anymore to write about how I am--cause really what good does it do?  Ian is still gone.  I'm going to be empty inside forever and writing about it isn't going to help so I want to hide instead. 

On Lucy's birthday I hid that I didn't want her to be 15.  I don't want to worry if she'll get to be 16, but worse than that I hid that I don't want her to get older than her older brother.  There's a catch 22 huh?   Of course I do want her to grow and learn and have experiences and be with me forever but. . .

I want to hide the feelings that come when I see my own child's name on a tomb stone.  My baby.  Or, the feelings of excitement when I hear a weird unexplained noise in the house and fantasize that he's here with me.  I just want to hide.

Leave it to God, Not Erma Bombeck

I read a quote on some one's blog tonight about mom's with "special needs" kids. 
I left a comment because it was crap. 
For anyone out there who thinks God picks special moms for kids with special needs--You're wrong.
It's either a crap shoot for everybody or nobody.
I think it's probably nobody, but I'm having a problem with everything being part of the plan this week. 
And to think that a certain kind of moms are given "challenging kids" is ludicrous.

I personally think the moms are the lucky ones, not the kids. 
Mother's Day is around the corner and I'm already rebelling--can you tell?

Here's the quote.  It's by Erma Bombeck. 
I should love it. 
I love her, but I don't love these words. 
I hate them pretty much.
They give an explanation where there isn't one and it's the wrong one anyway.
SPECIAL MOM by Erma Bombeck

It's Arrived

April 19th is here. 
Lucy's day. 
I love Lucy. 
I know I wrote  it last week. 
So. 
She's my daughter. 
She's the girl that brought joy to our lives. 
She brought hope to our family. 
She still brings it.
She's 15--halfway to old, she says.
The year of the "permit."

I'm scared of her growing up. 
I know what's out there. 
Not a lot of joy or hope.
She'll need to carry it wherever she goes.

Single Parent

I've had it.
I'm fed up.
I wish I could think of a way to make my voice heard.  Of course people would laugh.  People always seem to laugh when I express my opinion.  Or wrinkle their forehead.

If I hear the words "single parent" one more time, I think I will scream.  Since when did being a single  parent become a badge of honor?  Bluh!

Now as a disclaimer,  being a widow or widower is not where I'm going with this rant.  Period.  Nobody can help that.  And let me just add here that I have a brother who is a single father and a sister-in-law who used to be a single mom.  They neither one tout their experience as the ideal or want accolades.

But.

Being a single parent isn't something to be proud of.  It isn't an accomplishment.  It doesn't qualify someone for special attention or benefit.  Okay, it's harder,  so what.

People are single parents by choice.  They either weren't committed to anyone when the child was conceived or their commitment was so weak that it didn't last.  Men and women both make horrible choices in who they sleep with and create children.  They pick cheaters and abusers and deadbeats and nuts.  Does that somehow make them more worthy if they continue to parent alone? 

Here's a good example from an article in the New York Times. 

Amber Strader, 27, was in an on-and-off relationship with a clerk at Sears a few years ago when she found herself pregnant. A former nursing student who now tends bar, Ms. Strader said her boyfriend was so dependent that she had to buy his cigarettes. Marrying him never entered her mind. “It was like living with another kid,” she said.

When a second child, with a new boyfriend, followed three years later — her birth control failed, she said — her boyfriend, a part-time house painter, was reluctant to wed.

Ms. Strader likes the idea of marriage; she keeps her parents’ wedding photo on her kitchen wall and says her boyfriend is a good father. But for now marriage is beyond her reach.

“I’d like to do it, but I just don’t see it happening right now,” she said. “Most of my friends say it’s just a piece of paper, and it doesn’t work out anyway.”

Does she sound like someone who we should revere for being a single parent?  I remember the stories old men told about being raised by their mothers alone because their fathers went off to war and didn't come home--different entirely.

Here's another quote from the same article:

Almost all of the rise in nonmarital births has occurred among couples living together. While in some countries such relationships endure at rates that resemble marriages, in the United States they are more than twice as likely to dissolve than marriages. In a summary of research, Pamela Smock and Fiona Rose Greenland, both of the University of Michigan, reported that two-thirds of couples living together split up by the time their child turned 10.

When is it going to sink in to selfish adults that it's stronger and braver and smarter to find the right person to be with;  commit to them--legally and on paper;  and then fight to stay together. 

My profession--stay-at-home mom-- is losing respect.*  It's a target for jokes and labeled by all kinds of so-called experts as "less-than," while the whirlwind of single parenting is elevated and aggrandized. 

The rest of the article goes into education and racial/ethnic breakdowns for the statistics.  It also talks about the age of the mothers--which indicates that it may get a lot worse before we have a chance of it getting better.  Check it out.


*That's a whole other post that's on my list to write following the comments about Mrs. Romney and the fodder that followed.

Emancipation Day

I had many wonderings about why tax day falls on the 17th of April this year.  I knew the 15th was on Sunday, but why not the 16th?  I heard one little blurb on the news about a local holiday in DC but that was about it.  So, I took to the Internet and found some things that I didn't know before.

April 16 is a local holiday in Washington, D.C. -- Emancipation Day -- which is the day in 1862 when President Abraham Lincoln signed a declaration freeing 3,100 slaves living in Washington. The president's action happened nearly nine months before Mr. Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation, which freed slaves in ten Confederate States.
This year,  marks the 150th anniversary of the signing of the Compensated Emancipation Act.

President Lincoln was one of my childhood heroes.  I considered him the guy who made us all equal--the way God wanted it.

This is a holiday I think is worth celebrating and I wonder why we don't have some version of it nationally.  It seems more worthy to me than MLK day, but that's just my own humble opinion.  When we spend a whole month hearing about black history, I wonder why we never hear about or commemorate Emancipation Day.  The article I read online mentioned Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton being part of the festivities which wasn't surprising, but also Joel Olsteen.  Good for him.

I guess the problem with celebrating a "freedom day" is that is wasn't that way in the first place, but it would be good for children to know today that great men in history righted the wrongs they found in society and moved forward.  I wish we could do that today.

I Love Lucy

This is my little girl.  Isn't she beautiful?  Can you tell how smart she is?  She's 2 in this photo.  Completely potty-trained.  Recognizing all her letters and writing her name.  She already knew all the colors and favored pink--especially when it came to ice cream flavors.

She was very independent and wanted to do everything all by herself, except fall asleep--she did need me for that, or at least my hair.  She loved to play with my hair.  Finally, we got her a doll with long hair.  She named her  Ninevah.  I think she still has her stored in the closet.

Lucy is now 15--well, next week, on the best day of the year--April 19th.  She loves her birthday and the infamy that goes with it.  She is still really smart and beautiful and independent.  She still thinks she doesn't need me for much, but I know better.  One day she'll understand.  She'll have a beautiful daughter too.

Some days Lucy doesn't see how much she means to me.  I  need to do a better job--of showing her. 

 
I love you Lucy.

Fear

Mikey hasn't been feeling well.  It started Friday night with a little sore throat.  Saturday morning a  little worse,  then yesterday, too sick for church--on Easter.

He couldn't go to bed last night.  He came in to say good night and hug us about 10 times.  Finally the last time I asked he what was wrong.  He said he would feel 'safer' sleeping in our room.  Our son is afraid of being sick.  I had to let him sleep in our room and reassure him that he would get better.  What an awful thing for an 11 year old to be afraid of dying every time he gets sick.

This morning he was still asleep when it was time to take Lucy to school.  We got all ready to leave and then I made a trip up the stairs.  I had to make sure he was breathing.

Fear is awful for me too.

9 Days in 1 Post

This past week, leading up to Easter has been one to remember.  Many thoughts;  many experiences;  many questions.

March 30, 2012

That was Friday.  It was the Friday before general conference.  Though not the date we got married, it was the right day.  We were invited to a  temple sealing.  Not just a marriage, but a whole family.  Not just any family.  The family Keith went to minister to the day after we lost Ian.  They didn't know.  To me,  they will always be that family--the family Ian never knew.  It was hard to be there.  It was  hard to see them have all of their children together in the temple.  I will never have all my children together in the temple.  I was supposed to--in 2 months, when Mikey is 12 and we take him to do baptisms.  Ian is supposed to be there--being the example, showing Mikey what to do.  He is supposed to be handing him the tray across the sacrament table too.  It was hard, but I was tough.  I never know when I will be tough and when I will be weak.

March 31, 2012

We spent the day watching general conference.  I heard good messages.  I heard messages that made me leave the room in anger.  I colored in my mosaic coloring book until my hand hurt.  I think my favorite message was Elder Holland's about the parable of the  Laborers in the Vineyard.  It truly gave me a new perspective.  I never thought about feeling bad for those who got picked last.  Here it is.  Read the whole thing or just this, the best part. 

Brothers and sisters, there are going to be times in our lives when someone else gets an unexpected blessing or receives some special recognition. May I plead with us not to be hurt—and certainly not to feel envious—when good fortune comes to another person? We are not diminished when someone else is added upon. We are not in a race against each other to see who is the wealthiest or the most talented or the most beautiful or even the most blessed. The race we are really in is the race against sin, and surely envy is one of the most universal of those.

Or this: 

This parable—like all parables—is not really about laborers or wages any more than the others are about sheep and goats. This is a story about God’s goodness, His patience and forgiveness, and the Atonement of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is a story about generosity and compassion. It is a story about grace. It underscores the thought I heard many years ago that surely the thing God enjoys most about being God is the thrill of being merciful, especially to those who don’t expect it and often feel they don’t deserve it.

I do not know who in this vast audience today may need to hear the message of forgiveness inherent in this parable, but however late you think you are, however many chances you think you have missed, however many mistakes you feel you have made or talents you think you don’t have, or however far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.

It was a good talk.  His always are.  Keith had to go to the priesthood  session by himself.  I can watch the hurt well up in him before he goes and take hours to subside when he comes home.  In October Mikey will be able to accompany him.  I wonder if it will change anything.

April 1, 2012

Another day of conference.  I don't really have a favorite from Sunday.  I think I will spend some time reading over both Elder Anderson's and President Monson's.  They contained scriptures I need to ponder:  "All things are possible to him that believeth" and  "the race is not for the swift."
Mostly what I thought about this Sabbath day was that it was the anniversary of the day Ian's temple work was done.  Doesn't feel like a year.  Again, I'm stuck in the time warp of   "It just happened."  Should I be glad his work is done?  Should I be proud he has the Melchizedek Priesthood?  Should I have peace in knowing he's "in a better place?"  I suppose so. 
Shrug.

April 2, 2012

19 years of marriage.  Pretty damn good.  It hasn't been hard to love Keith.  I feel lucky every day.  I snagged one of the best men on the planet.  He has it slightly rougher but, oh well. 

We went golfing for the day.  It was something I have always wanted to do.  It is something Keith wants to do often.  I think I agree.  We had a superb time.  Neither one of us were particularly good golfers, but we were good companions, friends, and more.  We need a day like that once in a while.  It was happy.  We only spent a few minutes openly sad with each other.

April 3, 2012

We took Lucy and Mikey to the zoo in Sacramento.  I don't know why but we are zoo people.  There are few things as relaxing as watching animals.  The flamingos were particularly bright. 

The orangutans were especially active,

and the otters were characteristically active and playful.  Mikey got to feed a  giraffe. 

Lucy had her headphones in as any typical 14 year old would, and Keith and I just strolled around content. 

April 4, 5, and 6, 2012

My friend Cassi and her family arrived to spend a couple of days with us.  It was a pleasure.  House guests are not always without stress, but this time it was easy.  There was no uncomfortable moments and though the kids  have never met, they had a great time together.  I think if we were able, our whole families would be very close. 

Even a trip to the Jelly Belly factory and standing in line for 2 hours was bearable.  I had a weird flash moment there.  Cassi was looking around making sure all her kids were there together.  She said,  "Where's Nora?  Where's Caleb?  Do we have all our kids?"  I know that moment of concern well--that second of panic not seeing all my kids.  I still do it.  I still look around sometimes out in public places and realize I'm looking for Ian and I won't see him no matter how many ways I search.

It's good to still be close to someone I've known so long and respect so much.  It's even better when you also like her husband and think her kids are cute and well-behaved. 
We played games and the kids dyed Easter eggs--something I would, no doubt, have cried through had we been alone. 

Mikey got to have another boy sleeping in his room with him.  It was good all around.  Thanks Cass.

April 7, 2012

Today.  I have to come up with a lesson on the atonement and resurrection that will teach the young women tomorrow, but will also satisfy me and comfort me without making me emotional in front of them.  That's a tall order.   Maybe that's why I'm typing this instead.

That's my week leading to Easter.  It's not much when compared to the original week leading up to Easter--Palm Sunday to Feast of the Passover to Gethsemane to Calvary to the Open tomb. 

Having said that, it sure contained a lot of meaning and commemoration for me.