Today--all about today

When I turned 7 years old my grandmother bought me a piano for my birthday.  The furniture store delivered it in the middle of my slumber party breakfast.  I loved the bench before I ever knew there was a piano to go with it.  My aunt taught me piano lessons off and on for several years but I was never great.  It's hard to be motivated to practice when the lessons are free and there's no pressure to excel.

Over the years I've had some insight into my piano playing issues.  It's interesting that insight can come so late to the party.  Here's what I think was my biggest problem:  I couldn't keep going after I made a mistake.  I do this now with typing.  If I mess up a word I don't just delete the couple of letters that are wrong because my brain can't fix something in the middle.  This happens in my crosswords too.  If one of the letters is already filled in, I usually misspell the rest of the word because I don't figure the existing letter into the spelling.  Anyway, I digress.  When I play the piano, I often start over when I mess up.

Well today it occurred to me that I do this in my blog.  When I have a bunch of ideas that don't come out, I can't really leave them and stay current.  I stay stuck on what I should have done and the ideas that I only half remember from 3 weeks ago and lament that I'm behind.  It's stupid really.  I'm still back on our vacation in Utah and the sucky Halloween that came the same week as the Red Sox winning the World Series.  I don't want to leave things out so I freeze and don't do anything.  Again, stupid.

BUT,

Today I was really proud of my daughter so I decided that is a starting point.  Lucy had to write an essay for English and I convinced her to read it to me.  It was great.  She told me a few weeks ago that  she was supposed to write any essay about herself--like a college application essay telling why they should admit her to their institution.  The teacher told  them it needed to be about a life-altering event that has made them stronger, i.e. a death pr other traumatic situation.  I remember when the assignment was given, Lucy came out to the car and said she wasn't going to use Ian to get into college and she wasn't going to write the essay the teacher wanted.  Well, she didn't, and even though her peer reviewers didn't get it, I think it's fantastic. Here it is:


I've spent a lot of time pondering the complexities of human existence and the idea that we all have a predetermined "place" in this world.  This notion has always baffled me--that every human being on this earth has a niche to fit into; a space to fill;  a job to accomplish; and that if we don't succeed on this front, we're worthless, wasted, expendable.
the concept that every individual has one "life-altering" event that pushes them into the spot they're destined to occupy is ludicrous.  To value one moment''one choice''above others, assuming that that instance has a greater effect on our life than any other, is shallow and naive.  At any given point in time, we're faced with choices.  Each choice hold the potential for more choices, and so on.  We have an infinite amount of futures possible, and every time we actually make a choice, it kills a great deal of them.  In essence, every moment--every decision-- is life-altering, and the biggest life-altering moment in my life was the moment in which I realized this.
That realization helped me to understand that every choice I'll ever make is important.  I don't know what the outcome will be, so I've learned to weigh my options carefully.  At the end of the day, my  decisions set the course of my life, and I want tot make sure that that course is headed in the right direction.  Decisions kill futures, but they also create them, and that's the most life-altering thing I can think of.

Not bad for a 16 year old Huh?
After she read it in the car, Mikey said, "I have a Ronald Reagan quote to go with it," and he pulled it out and let us read it.  Wow, 2 kids who are really thinking.

The character that takes command in moments of crucial choices has already been determined by a thousand other choices made earlier in seemingly unimportant moments. It has been determined by all the 'little' choices of years past - by all those times when the voice of conscience was at war with the voice of temptation, [which was] whispering the lie that 'it really doesn't matter.' It has been determined by all the day-to-day decisions made when life seemed easy and crises seemed far away - the decision that, piece by piece, bit by bit, developed habits of discipline or of laziness; habits of self-sacrifice or self-indulgence; habits of duty and honor and integrity - or dishonor and shame.---Ronald Reagan

I'm glad I took the time to put this down.  

Stuck in a Cornfield

Had a conversation with Lucy  a week or so ago.  It's been going through my mind ever since and today  I  finally decided what she said was a good thing.  Made me happy today.

We took the youth to the corn maze.   2 girls--12 and 13 teamed up together to enter the giant, dark claustrophobic, scary thing.  Can you tell I don't go in?  These 2 girls are, well, not average.  They have challenges.  Developmental challenges.  They are so happy together.  I think it's the best thing in the world that they have each other in our group.  One of the leaders was worried about them the whole time--but didn't go in with them.  When it was time to go, they didn't come out of the maze.  We looked around for a while and asked the people staged at different exits if there was some protocol if somebody gets lost.  I went to the petting zoo and the man running that knew exactly who I meant.  He said, "Did one of them have a big yellow flashlight?  Yeah they were here about an hour ago."  I was walking back to the meeting place when I saw them come running from a dirt field--not one of the authorized exits and was so relieved.  The adult that was worried about them scolded them upon sight very loudly.  It was like one of those scenes you see in a department store when you want to take the child from his parents and run.
I hugged each one and told them how worried we were and how happy we were that they were OK.

Here's the conversation with Lucy:
I said I think that we need to try to let them have some autonomy and treat them the same as we do everyone else-- not treat them like 5 years olds that can't do anything for themselves.  Then I started backtracking, and wondering if that's what I would have thought if it had been my child in there.  Would I have been okay with Ian in there without someone responsible with him.  We went back and forth about that, citing that his issues were sight and balance and exhaustion and that they were different than these girls' issues.  Here's where Lucy said that you can't be rational about your own kids.  WHAT?  I didn't like that so much.  Then she said I would've let Ian go, but I would have planned on something going wrong.  She said I always let him do what he wanted but  had  a contingency plan.  I've been mulling that over trying to decide if I really was the overprotective limiter that I have been accused of (not by Lucy).

Fast forward to today.  I was saying my prayer this morning and being thankful for the atonement and I realized that the atonement is God's contingency plan.  He knew that I would have problems and He didn't want me to ever get stuck somewhere and alone and afraid.  I don't want to sound too prideful, but it made me think I did at least one thing as a parent that was like Heavenly Father.  It made me feel good.  Really Good.

Peace. Be Still.

I've been really stressed and cranky the past few days.  No real reason necessarily.  Work has been challenging with a new boss;  new expectations; and new big evaluations.  But, even though that's where Ive focused my frustration, I don't think that was it.  Young Women's is always a stresser.  Always has been. Always will be.  Sometimes it takes me hours to relax when I get home on  a Tuesday night.  That wasn't it this week either.  Last night I could feel the heaviness--the actual physical heaviness land on my shoulders and in the pit of my stomach and I knew that I'd let myself get overtired and the emptiness was the next feeling that would come.

Today as I said my prayer in the car, I asked for peace.  Just peace.  Not that my project would be easier or that Keith would find the right new job or place to live or even the reassurance that we really are supposed to be in Stockton--that's a common plea--just peace and understanding.  I didn't think much of it.  Just walked inside and sat down to a pile on my desk and got going.

I always turn on Pandora to an LDS worship station while I work, especially when I'm there alone.  I was working along for a couple of hours and right in the middle of something when I heard the words,  "Leave to thy God to order and provide;"

It shocked me, almost literally.  I was facing my desk, not my computer and I turned my chair around and looked at the screen and paused the music. I took a minute to finish what I was doing.  Then I went to the Pandora screen and pushed play.  I tried to make it go back to the first of the song, but I couldn't.  I recognized the tune--Be Still My Soul  but I don't remember ever really listening to the words.  I went in the classroom and got a hymnbook and made a copy of hymn 124, and underlined those few words.

After work I read the whole song.  Wow.  It is really comforting.  Here are the Lyrics:

Be still, my soul: The Lord is on they side;
With patience bear thy cross of grief or pain.
Leave to thy God to order and provide;
In ev'ry change he faithful will remain.
Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy heav'nly Friend
Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Be still, my soul:  Thy God doth undertake
to guide the future as he has the past.
Thy hope, thy confidence let nothing shake;
All now mysterious shall be bright at last.
Be still, my soul:  The wave and winds still know
His voice who ruled them while he dwelt below.

Be still, my soul:  The hour is hast'ning on
When we shall be forever with the Lord,
When disappointment, grief, and fear are gone,
Sorrow forgot, love's purest joys restored.
Be still, my soul;  When change and tears are past,
All safe and blessed we shall meet at last.

It's a happy ending song.  It's a "not in charge" song.  It's a trust song.  It's a peace and understanding song.
I spend too much time "immersed in the three Ws: wearied, worrying, and whining."  (Pres. Uchtdorf, May 2011)  I need to knock it off.  I need to be still.

Right Up There

I have to say last week I watched one of the funnest, most enjoyable things I have ever seen on television.  The only way it could have been better would be if Ian were watching it with me.  He would have been doing the dance-jump and laughing until his eyes watered.  We would've been high-fiving and cheering and watching replays every few minutes.

It was the Boston Red Sox versus the Detroit Tigers.  The game where Big Pappy got his 2000th hit.

The sportscasters kept saying these were the 2 teams to watch for the pennant and I could see why. . .until the 6th inning.  That was when the real fun began. When the bottom of the 6th began the score was 5 to 4.

The Sox scored 8 runs that inning.  I don't remember how many homers that inning, but a couple at least.  They were saying at one point that everyone had scored except  Pedrioa.

Ortiz got 2 home runs.  There was a Grand Slam by Middlebrooks--after a walked in run--I know that has a particular name, but I don't know what it is.  Ellsbury got a homer.

It got so bad that they put in the 2nd stringers and they scored homers too.  That poor Detroit pitcher.  I don't know why they left him in.

I actually considered saving the 4+ hour game on the DVR to watch when I'm down.  It was great.

GO SOX!

Milestone We didn't Get

There were a handful of special girls in Ian's life.  Shannon was one of them.  She made him blush about a thousand times.  They shared their birthday weekend:  hers on the 18th, his on the 19th.  When they were 12 or 13 they plotted about going on their first date together as soon as they were 16.  Ian didn't make it.  He had 17 days to go.

The boy who did take Shannon on her first date called Keith and said that he wanted to make it special for her even though he wasn't Ian.  What should they do?  That was quite a call.

I know Shannon spent time on her 18th birthday at the cemetery.

She had her mission farewell today.  She's going to Knoxville, Tennessee.  We went to hear her speak. When the opening song started  I cried.  Cried quite a while.  Nobody saw.  Nobody knew what I was secretly feeling.  It was good.  She's a great girl.  She'll be a great missionary.  Ian's proud of her.

He is a seasoned missionary by now.  After 3 years, he could give here some tips.  I wish he'd had a farewell.

Citing the Source

I heard something on the radio today that made me so sad.  It was a political debate about Obamacare and I don't even know who the host was because he was just a fill-in for somebody else.  He was going on and on about how terrible it was that congress has now exempted their own staffs from participating in the vast chaos we all see coming toward us like a freight train.

Not that the whole healthcare/Obamacare issue isn't sad enough, but the guy quoted Abraham Lincoln to make his point.  He said, "We need to consider what Lincoln said--A house divided against itself cannot stand."  AAAuuugh.

Lincoln?  Lincoln is who he attributes that statement to?  Okay, so, Lincoln gave a famous speech about the future of slavery where he co-opted that phrase, but those words belong to Jesus.  What has happened to our  country?  What has happened to the Judeo-Christian make-up of our country?  What has happened to people reading the Bible? What has happened to people caring what Jesus said?  I can't believe it.

I'm a lover of Lincoln.  He's been a hero of mine since I was a kid, but even he isn't a great enough guy to get credit for Jesus' words.

Lead me

I've been working on memorizing hymns the past few weeks and it's been really hard--I always tend to make things harder than they need to be.  I picked 2 hymns that I wasn't super familiar with (would it be a challenge if I already knew all the words?) but that had words that really meant something to me.  The first one was "Go Forth with Faith" and the second, which I 'm going to write about is "Lead Kindly Light."

Here are the lyrics.  I adjusted some of the meter for my own better understanding.  I also added  my commentary in red. Some words I  had to look up to get the full affect.

Lead, kindly Light, amid th'encircling gloom; The Light is the Savior; gloom is all the bad things in the world. 
Lead thou me on!
The night is dark, and I am far from home; This isn't really our home,
Lead thou me on!
Keep thou my feet;
I do not ask to see the distant scene--
one step enough for me. I need to trust that it's okay for me to not be in charge; Somebody else has a better grasp on my own 'big picture' and I need to accept that. In other words: have faith and be meek and submissive

I was not ever thus,
nor pray'd that thou shouldst lead me on.
I loved to choose and see my path;
but now, lead thou me on! Again, I'm stubborn and like to make my own decisions--not always consulting with my Heavenly Father or considering consequences.

I loved the garish day, Garish means showy
And, spite of fears, pride ruled my will. Wanting to be seen by men as intelligent, important or someone to be admired--putting worldly accolades before spiritual things.
remember not past years. Please forgive me and help me. 

So long thy pow'r hath blest me,
sure it still will lead me on  You haven't let me down thus far and I know you never will 
O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, Through the swamp and bog and cliff and rushing water
till the night is gone. 'til I'm finished with all the tests and trials of life
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile! When I'm done and with all those I love-- even the ones I haven't seen for a long time,  we'll be happy.



It's a beautiful hymn and it means so much to me. I'm really glad I chose it, even if it was hard to memorize. One of the scriptures that goes with it is Psalms 119:133-135.

133 Order my steps in thy word: and let not any iniquity have dominion over me.
134 Deliver me from the oppression of man: so will I keep thy precepts.
135 Make thy face to shine upon thy servant; and teach me thy statutes.

Good Scripture too.

I decided to write my own version of the hymn.  It's not as poetic, but it's mine.

Savior, please take my hand,
Show me the way.
I'm weak and scared and sometimes stubborn,
Show me the way
I know that I'm just one grain of sand to Him--
And yet, I am His child.
My neck is stiff, my heart is stony
Could you show me the way?

Lord, please teach me how to feel
Show me the way
I'm small and simple but I like to be in control
Show me the way.
I try to lean on my own understanding--
Be in charge of my own destiny or fate
I'm wrong.
Forgive me, and light the way.

Master, please open my eyes
Show me the way
It's hard to bow my will to thine
Yet please show me the way
I'm not always inclined, sometimes compelled
I need to be still and let you be my God
and trust that my soul is of great worth
I beg, please mark the way.

Brother, help me endure it well
Show me the way
I know it's but a moment.  Still-
Show me the way
I want to recognize Your voice and follow
I'll try not to tell You what to say--what I want to hear;
Just listen to my shepherd
I know You are the Way.

Prayer Lessons

Here's an interesting book review:

Read this non-lds religious book.  It's great.  I highly recommend it.  Of course it 's not all doctrinally correct. That's okay.  It's got a great message and let me tell you what it is. Pray more.  Use your own words. Don't be surprised that  life is so hard  that you need to ask for rely on the Lord;s help--otherwise, how would you grow?  It was such a shock to me that there was a book giving people permission to say what they wanted in their prayers or that people needed a book to tell them.  I'm blessed to have been taught that my entire life.

It is based on an obscure scripture in the Old Testament that I now count as one that I own.  Stole the insight from a man of another faith--Bruce Wilkinson.

1 Chronicles 4:9-10

9 And Jabez was more honourable than his brethren: and his mother called his name Jabez, saying, Because I bare him with sorrow.
10 And Jabez called on the God of Israel, saying, Oh that thou wouldest bless me indeed, and enlarge my coast, and that thine hand might be with me, and that thou wouldest keep me from evil, that it may not grieve me! And God granted him that which he requested.

So, here's the thing:  The first 3 chapters in Chronicles are nothing but genealogy.  A list of son after son after son for 3+ chapters and then it comes to these to verses and the writer stops and takes a breath and is so impressed by the way that Jabez prayed that he has to speak about it and make sure the reader knows that Jabez was honorable, and that God answered his prayers.  That's the premise of the book.

This is the painting that was commissioned for the cover art.  Beautiful huh?

It's been 4 years since I read it.  Bought it at a thrift store on a whim.  I guess it was turned into a series with Bible study journals and special editions just for women etc.  I'm not into that but I did give my copy to a friend to read.  She didn't like/get it.   Next time I see it at a thrift store, I'm going to buy it again.

Peaches, but no Herb

I'm just peachy.
This is what my kitchen looks like.  I did 2 batches of jam tonight and it didn't even make a dent in the first basket.
Tomorrow I think I'll bake pies and make homemade peach ice cream.
By the weekend, they will all be ripe enough to peel.  Ugh.

Thankful for God's Bounty.

Oh yeah, there's just any many plums!

Diamond in the Rough

We had a lesson today which I think was on adversity.  (I was late and missed most of it.)  It was the standard, from what I did hear, you know--Why does God allow bad things to  happen?  Chastening, refiner's fire--we need to learn and get stronger yada yada yada.

One of the example's though, made me think.  A friend was talking about what it takes to turn normal carbon into a diamond and what a treasure a diamond is.  I'm weird, it's a given, but all I could think about was:  " I wonder what it takes to turn something into carbon."

What is carbon made out of?  What did something have to go through to become carbon--the thing that everything is made out of?  With the whole eternal perspective,  carbon isn't the beginning, and a diamond isn't the end.  There is something more basic than carbon and something more beautiful and precious than diamonds.  And if we were to sit down and analyze, is a diamond really more valuable than coal?  Can it heat?  Give off light?  Generate electricity?  What percentage of God's children ever even get to see a diamond?

Then there's the perspective I have of my dad working in the diamond industry.  Industrial diamonds.  He worked for a company that made the drill bits for oil wells--diamond drill bits, that would cut through the core of the earth better and faster than anything else. He had a little one on his key chain for years.

Are those diamonds as special as the ones that have been cut and polished?  They are diamonds.  They aren't still considered carbon.   I remember when he brought home a black diamond.  It just looked like a tiny piece of coal, but perfectly square.  I didn't believe him at first when he said it was a diamond.  And my mom has a diamond hourglass with thousands of dollars worth of diamond dust running through it.  Very sparkly and beautiful, but not considered in the same way as something in a baby blue box from Tiffany's.

I don't know, but I think the point I am getting at is that:   I don't care if I'm carbon now.  Carbon is a really good thing and it came from somewhere.  It didn't start out as carbon.  It went through something already to get where it is, and even if I'm not on my way to the shiny kind of diamond that everyone recognizes as valuable, I am valuable and God sees me that way.  Even if I'm coal, or a drill bit or dust that marks time. Someday I'll see myself the way He sees me--the way He sees all of his obedient children--who are with Him.  Hopefully, I will be white above all that is white and that beats a diamond any day.

Welcome Home Ian

I know I've posted this song before.  It's still the most fitting post to commemorate  today.

Listen on YouTube

Here are the Lyrics:

I can't believe that I'm here having to say goodbye
And I can barely see you through these tears I cry
I close my eyes.

I can hear the sound
As angels gather 'round
Saying this is where you belong
Welcome Home!

There are the days that my heart aches
Wishing  you were here
But I know where you are the hurt and the pain disappear
There's no more tears.

I can hear the sound
As angels gather 'round
Saying this is where you belong
Welcome Home!
Welcome Home!

What  a lovely sound
Angels all around
Saying this is where you belong
Welcome Home
Welcome Home
Welcome Home!

Home

The computer is not really my friend.  This blog is a perfect example.  Several months ago it became impossible for me to insert a photo on this blog without downloading it directly from a phone or linking it from a URL.  I tried  a hundred things to  make it work and couldn't, so I just didn't post anything for weeks. Obviously, I've figured a way around it--I'm not using internet explorer anymore.  It took me months and an interesting problem at work to even think of the idea.

Work is a whole 'nother issue with the computer.  Sometimes I have to call the helpdesk in SLC and have them do the whole land desk management thing to fix whatever I"ve messed up.  I was working on a form this week and couldn't figure out why the numbers I wast inputting kept turning into the number siymbol--I think it's now called a hash tag.  It was an Excel issue and Excel is  new to me.  I don't love computers.  I don't own a tablet or a laptop or even a smartphone.  I don't want a computer applying the breaks for me in my car or tracking my spending habits at Lowe's. I especially don't want to deal with a computerized self-checkout at the grocery store.

Computers do offer have one thing that is very appealing to me.  Any website I'm on or any program I'm using, there's one very special icon I love.  I use it to find my way--to get unlost, unconfused, unmessed up.  It's the home tab.

Life needs a home tab.  I found myself sitting in my family room a couple of months ago, looking at the ceiling telling Heavenly Father I wanted to come home.  In a good way.  In an I miss you way.  In a I'm not doing so good today, could you show me the purpose from the beginning again sort of  way.  Well, not exactly. That makes it sound like a positive experience.  It wasn't.  I was bawling, but then what else is new?  But it wasn't  in a dangerous, all my friends and family should be worried kind of way either.  In computer talk it was a 'save document without all the changes that were just made' moment--a can't we reset to Christmas 2009 and start there again?

I've had that feeling a lot in the past 3 years, yep 3 whole years.  It's a little different having Ian on the other side of the veil.  I just want the end to come.  It wouldn't mess up anybody's plans if the 2nd Coming was today would it?  I don't want just my life to end.  I want the whole stinkin' party to end.  Selfish.  I know. This probably sounds morbid or like I need a shrink.  Oh well.  I'm not going to off myself.  I just like the visual of the little home in the corner of my screen and what it represents to me eternally.

8 Months Late

It was in November 2012 that I should've written this post.  It was a very sad day indeed.  Things would never be the same in my life again.  Something was taken from me that I would never get back---WAIT---On July 15th all was right with the world.
The return of the Twinkie.

I know.  What a ridiculous thing to post about.  Not so.  I love Twinkies.  And Ding-Dongs.  They have childhood memories embedded in them.  And not the type of memories you might guess.

When I was in the 2nd or 3rd grade, back when kids still took the buses and went on field trips, I got to go to the Wonder Bread/Hostess factory on a tour.  It was the best thing ever.  We got to bring home a mini-loaf of bread and a package of Twinkies.  The clearer memory of the day however, is where we had lunch after the tour.

Wow, stop the presses.  In the middle of typing this post, I actually got a phone from my favorite grocery contact who told me it will be another 2-4 weeks before I can buy a Ding-Dong.  What a coincidence huh?

Okay, back to my youth.  When we finished at the Wonder Bread Plant, we went on a tour of the fire station next door and then we boarded the buses to our lunch destination--the deaf and blind school.  Is is okay to say that it was the first time I realized I had it good?  Can you say that?  Every time I say I'm thankful that I don't have the trials that someone else has  I have a guilt pang, like I'm a Zoramite on the Rameumptom or something.-- 'Thank you God for making us so much better than our brethren."
Back to the initial point.  I didn't know anyone who was deaf or blind and it certainly wasn't the time of inclusion in the schools.  I don't think it had ever occurred to me that Helen Keller wasn't just a movie.

I've never forgotten that day.  I don't think of it often, but it is linked to Twinkies.  Pretty cool.  Twinkies make me realize how thankful I should be for my body that works the way it is supposed to.

There is one right way to eat a Twinkie too.  You have to split in half lengthwise so you can see all the filling inside and eat one half at a time.  What a treat.

Then there's Ding-Dong memories.

My brother and I didn't get along too great when I was young.  He's a lot older than me and I was probably not only the sibling that took away his baby of the family status, but I was also the first girl in 4 generations.  Let's just say I was spoiled.  (Not that I remember provoking him to tease or anything remotely deserving of his torment.)  Anyway, one of my good memories with him was eating Ding-Dongs--well, not the eating.  The unwrapping.  Taking off the aluminum foil perfectly without a single tear and seeing who could smooth it out into a pristine perfect rectangle again without any wrinkles.

That,  and contests of who could keep the hiccups the longest.  Isn't childhood great.  Silly things that come back to our memory 40 years later when we are informed that Hostess is going to be gone forever.  I'm so glad it's not.  I've eaten 5 or 6 Twinkies in the last 2 weeks and plan to eat that many Ding-Dongs when I can find them.

I wish all good things that are taken away could make a comeback!

Another Maxwell Quote

I guess one of my all-time favorite apostles is Neal A. Maxwell.  The only thing I can ever remember him saying that I didn't like is,  "O'Driscoll?  I ate rhubarb out of your parents garden last week."  I was in Hong Kong and missing a few of the comforts at home plus I was excited to be meeting an apostle and wasn't thrilled that he already know my brother in such a familiar way.  Ah, sibling rivalry.

Anyway, I digress.  Here's the quote that I love:

One's life. . .cannot be both faith-filled and stress-free. . ."Therefore, how can you and I really expect to glide naively through life, as if to say, 'Lord, five me experince, but not grief, not sorrow, not pain, not opposition, not betrayal, and certainly not to be forsaken.  Keep from me, Lord, all thaose experiences which made Thee what Thou art!  Then let me come an ddwell with Thee and fully share Thy joy!'  "Real faith. . .is required to endure this necessary but painful developmental process."

"Lest Ye Be Wearied and Faint in Your Minds,"  Ensign, May 1991, 88,90.

I hate to say it, but, yeah, that's kinda what I want--no hard stuff, but all the blessings.  Oh well, it's a good thing you don't get everything you want.

Not 6th Sense, But 6th Stage

Everybody has heard of the steps of grief.  Denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.  There's lots of books about them and psycho-babble that makes pretty good sense.  I've bounced around through these stages over and over again.  It seems when my hormones shift, I can run  through all the stages  in a couple of days.
There's a stage that isn't covered; a stage that I've been struggling through for the past several months.  It's one of the many reasons I haven't been letting out any of my feelings.  Simply put, it's avoidance.  It's not the same as denial, even though it might seem similar.  I've had enough time now to figure out how to"not think".

Thinking about fun times and talking about them; writing  them down used to make me feel connected.  It used to be the umbilical cord that flowed between Ian and I.  Now I know that if I allow myself to feel, I will cry for hours and get a headache and bring my family down.  I won't be productive at work.  I will lose my appetite.  I will feel the horrible guilt of every parenting mistake I ever made.

I swear I can cry in less than 10 seconds if I let myself.  If the car is silent, I'm still there--in that place  when he first left me.  Now, very close to 3 years out, I've adapted, to survive.  I avoid.  I write less in my book of letters to Ian because if I sit down and do it at bedtime like I used to, I can't sleep.  That used to be okay.  I used to revel in that time that I had to tell him everything that was going on without him.  Now I've learned that sleep is an escape--like TV and overeating, sleep is my friend.

I don't go to the cemetery as much.  I avoid it.  And it's not just that time has passed.  It's not that at all.  I avoid the cemetery because it's very apparent that Ian isn't there.  I know now that the presents I take there are just going to be stolen by people who can't possibly understand what it takes to buy things for your son and leave them next to a piece of marble.  It's like Lucy said a long time ago.  "Why put yourself through it?"

I avoid being as happy for others as I should be because it hurts.  The happy feeling fades in a very short amount of time and leaves a gaping hole where I can't be happy for me--where I can't be that parent who gets to beam about their child and tell everyone what he is up to.

We went on vacation this past week.  I cried before we left.  I cried while we were gone and I cried on the way home.  He's not here.  While we were mini-golfing, I actually said how great it would be if he were there wanting to hit Lucy with the putter for being such a pain.

We are trying to tell ourselves now that Ian wouldn't be here anyway.  He would be on his mission.  But, you know what?  He's  already been gone more than a mission's length of time.  I've said it before, but I don't even know what he would like anymore.  I don't know if he would still like Batman or if he would have decided that he was too old for that.  I see clothes in the stores he would have loved 3 years ago, but would he want them now?  I don't know.

So I avoid that section of the store.
I avoid a lot.
I see a danger though.  I don't want to avoid all the things that make me smile--like this.

First day of  2nd grade and Birthday.  Added extra bonus--balance was finally good enough to stand on one foot.

Wandering and Rambling

I read Ether last week.  I'm trying to finish the Book of Mormon.  The kids having minimum days has hurt my routine.  I usually read while I'm waiting for them at the school--no waiting; no reading.  I'm almost there.  Anyway, the book of Ether has many, many important lessons, the first being pick your friends carefully.
When Jared and his brother's language is not confounded and they are still able to communicate with each other, the next thing they ask for is that they may also have some of their friends "not confounded" either.  (I'm sure that was the most awkward way to say that but. . .)  It makes me think who I would want to take with me into the wilderness.  If there were only going to be a few families together and times were going to be tough, do I have friends that I would want to count on?

Yes, but I'm not sure if I have 11.  That's the number that sticks in my head as to how many there were.  Let's see:
Do my brother's count?  No, I'll assume they don't--they are already there.
Campbells
Molens
Colborns
Powells, maybe--haven't talked to them forever.

Families that we trust, rely on and get along with.  Question is would any of them pick us?

Messers
Johnsons
Bonds
Esplins
Parkers
Phipps 

I don't know.  They are all really good families.  We aren't super close with these, but I can look over the list and feel good that none of them would fall to the dark side.

Keith would probably have more ideas.

If we were all together living fairly well on a beach somewhere like they were, would we stop asking "what next?"  The brother of Jared got chastised pretty harshly and was stuck in that spot for 4 years  when there was a better place waiting--because he quit praying about what to do. 

That sounds  pretty common.  We don't always ask when things are good--or even fair.  Maybe the brother of Jared thought, "I did what you said, I'm here in this place where you led me.  If you want me to go somewhere else, where's the cloud that led me here?  Where are you now?" 

When the brother of Jared finally did start asking again, he was pretty humble.  He asked God not to get angry with him again when he proposed the stones lighting up.  He started with, "I know I'm just a dumb mortal but. . ."

I wonder a lot about the journeys Heavenly Father sends us on.  He does things in such weird ways sometimes.  Lehi and Jared are only 2 examples.

When God was ready to restore his church to the earth, He knew that it was Joseph Smith that would be the one to do it.  He knew the geography of where it needed to happen.  There were thousands of ways the Smith family could have gotten to Palmyra, NY.  Why did they need their crops to fail 3 consecutive years in Vermont?  Why did they need to be nearly destitute?  They were good people--the best people on the planet in the context of this story.  Why did God try them to the breaking point? 

Yes, I know the Sunday School answer and I know the scriptural answer:  God tries those He loves.  He gives all of us the opportunity to prove to him that we will choose Him; that we will serve Him; and that we won't falter.  I get that.  I guess I even get that if the trials of Joseph's childhood hadn't come, then perhaps he wouldn't have been prepared for the trials that came later.

And Yet.  I still wonder why?  I still ask,  "Is there no other way?" 
Aren't there any lessons that aren't worth the trials we go through in order to learn?  It seems to me that there are weak, yet happy, people all around me.  How do I reconcile that with the concept that God is no respecter of persons and loves all of his children and wants success for every last one of them?  I'm not stupid or proud or whatever enough to think that I'm stronger or more able to withstand more trials than anyone else.  On the other hand, I'm not naive enough to think that my trials are even close to the worst there is. 

I hope it's okay to wonder.  There are thousands of years of history in the scriptures and I'm supposed to read it and learn from it and get to know those people and see myself in their lessons, so I hope it's okay to scratch my head and say, "If God wanted it to be that way, why didn't He just say so?"

It's a rambling.  I'm rambling today.

Power in Reading

 Brother Shields gave me a job a while back.  He needed to make a file on the family.  He asked his classes to go through the Ensigns for the past 5 years and find all the articles that had to do with the family and put a sticky note on the page.  Then I would go through and make copies of all of them and put them together for him.  He said I might find things the students missed.  What a fun job when the day is slow.
I made a few copies of things for me too.  I found one quote that I brought home and told Keith, “I found something you’re going to write in the back of your scriptures today.”  Sometimes I think it annoys him that I know him as well as I do, but I was right.  He took the page and carefully copied it into the little bit of space he has left back there.

Here it is:  “However diligent we may be in other areas, certain blessings are to be found only in the scriptures, only in coming to the word of the Lord and holding fast to it as we make our way through the mists of darkness to the tree of life.”



Isn’t that a great quote?  It doesn’t hurt that it’s a quote from Keith’s personal favorite prophet ever—Ezra Taft Benson.

I think probably I read my scriptures half the days.  That’s a good honest estimate.  I finish the Book of Mormon at least once almost every year.  It’s hard to gauge.  I finished the Doctrine and Covenants last year—before we were studying it.  Yeah, I’m stubborn that way.  It doesn’t count as ‘personal study’ to me if it’s for Sunday School—that’s ‘required reading.’    That’s pretty quirky isn’t it? 

I’m pretty attached to my scriptures.  They are worn out.  Pages move up and down on the little strings.  The lettering on the spine is worn off and there’s a few food stains on the pages.  That all makes me happy.  That means I’ve used them.  If Heavenly Father asked to see them, I would be proud to show Him how much I’ve used them.  In fact the zipper broke on my case—the case I bought in the MTC and I couldn’t find another one anything like it so I took it to the dry cleaner up the street and paid enough for a whole new case for them to replace the zipper.  (It’s on backwards, by the way.)  I’m attached.  I hope I’m attached to the meaning and not just the familiarness of the covers and colors of the markings.

Whenever there’s a lesson about personal inspiration I always say that my prayers are answered in the scriptures.  Maybe that’s because I’m not warm and fuzzy and Heavenly Father knows He has to ‘spell things out"’ for me.  Whatever the reason, that’s how I get inspiration—even more reason I should be devoting time to reading.

On the page in the Ensign with the Benson quote there is a scripture verse in big bold type.  It’s Jeremiah 33:3.  It’s actually one that I’m not terribly familiar with and it’s a great one—I should be.

“Call unto me, and I will answer thee, and shew thee great and might things, which thou knowest not.”

There’s a lot I don’t know.  And the more I learn, the more I realize how much I don’t know.  It’s Saturday morning.  I think I’ll go back to bed and read my scriptures!

Back to the Name

The name of my blog is "I'm not in Charge."
I found a scrap of paper today with the scrawls of my hand-writing on it.  Here's what it says:

Being in charge was Satan's greatest desire--That was the crux of his plan--not only taking our agency, but taking God's glory and Christ's mediation.  He wanted sole charge of all the members of our great and eternal family.  He wanted to be all-powerful, all-wise, and all in charge.

I think probably at first, he  wanted to save everybody and not lose a single soul because he loved us.  Any brother would right?  He thought he was making a grand gesture that we would all revere him for.  And then his pride kicked in.  The sin that does in more people than any other.  He didn't want to be wrong.  He got his feelings hurt.  He was embarrassed and ashamed that he had suggested something that wasn't the right thing.  He couldn't accept that God knew better.  That he didn't understand everything to the extent that God did.  He couldn't bend his will.

Keith read us a very famous Neal A. Maxwell quote in family home evening this week.

...the submission of one’s will is really the only uniquely personal thing we have to place on God’s altar. The many other things we “give,” brothers and sisters, are actually the things He has already given or loaned to us. However, when you and I finally submit ourselves, by letting our individual wills be swallowed up in God’s will, then we are really giving something to Him! It is the only possession which is truly ours to give!

Satan couldn't, no, wouldn't submit.  His desire for glory, fame and power destroyed him and so many others who followed him.  He couldn't let God be in charge.  Brings me back to my favorite scripture (I wonder how many times I've typed it in this blog).

Doctrine and Covenants 59:21   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 his commandments.

God needs to be invited to be in charge of every part of my life.  I need to acknowledge him and recognize that it is my job to be obedient.  I need to understand that I won't lose who I am just because I'm His and submit to His will.

The sacrament hymn  "God Loved Us So He Sent His Son" has 5 verses, but we only ever sing the first 3.  I always read the 4th one before I shut the book.   It goes:

In word and deed he doth require
My will to his, like son to sire, 
Be made to bend, and I, as son,
Learn conduct from the Holy One.

I still need a lot of work on not wanting to control everything in my life, and Keith's life  and my kids lives.  I don't want to be like Satan. 

Conscientious Aspirations

I went to lunch with some friends today. 
Kinda. Are they really friends if I leave and say, "whew, I never want to do that again"?

It was weird.  I don't want to ever say that I am better than other people.  That's rude.  And not true.  Here's the thing:  I want to be better than them; than that; than the conversation at that lunch.

I'm not prudey.  I've never really been a goody-goody.  At least, not to me.  But at 46 years old, I don't ever want to leave anywhere thinking,  "What was that?  How did the conversation go there?"  I think the ronch on TV has become so pervasive that people don't even think about what they say anymore. 

Do people still need to think they are cool by saying provocative things in their middle-age?  Not me.  The only slightly provocative things I ever say are between me and my hubby and I want to keep it that way.

Just a tear (like tear paper, not tear from my eye) for today.   I have lots of much better more uplifting things to say sitting right here on my printer waiting for me to type them in on this keyboard, but I just couldn't pass on this rant today.  I'd like to be thought of as a lady--a Christian lady and if today's lunch had been a movie, I'd have changed the channel.

File it away Michelle.  Holy Places.  Be not moved.

Hang On

Life can be like a rope.  Sometimes we feel things are slipping.  We don’t have control.  We are not as strong as we would like to be.  There are times when we are tired and want to let go. 
Those are the times that we need to be extra vigilant and tie a knot in our rope—take a stand and hold on.  The knots we tie make it a lot easier to not slide backward and have to regain ground.
I’ve said for years that there are times when all we can do is not let go.  I was referencing the iron rod, but it applies here.  Sometimes I’m not strong enough to do every right thing.  Sometimes I don’t have the  perfect answer to the question or the energy to serve, but I always have the determination to not let go of the gospel.
I’m not saying this very well.  I don’t have a specific example.  I just think it’s a great visual—a rope with knots in it.  It makes me think of boys in a big gymnasium trying to get to the top and ring the bell.
I want to get to the top and ring the bell someday and say I didn’t give up; I didn’t let go.

The Chicken and the Egg

2 quotes today that I have read recently that make me feel hopeful--both by God's messengers.  Faith and hope go together.  In fact sometimes, it's  hard to know which comes first and which leads to the other.

"As members of the church, if we chart a course leading to eternal life; if we begin the processes of spiritual rebirth, and are going in the right direction. . . then it is absolutely guaranteed--there is not question whatever about--we shall gain eternal life.  Even though we have spiritual rebirth ahead of us, perfection ahead of us, the full degree of sanctification ahead of us, if we chart a course and follow it to the best of our ability in this life, then when we go out of this life we'll continue in exactly that same course.  We'll no longer be subject to the passions and the appetites of the flesh.  We will have passed successfully the tests of this mortal probation and in due course we'll get the fullness of our Father's kingdom--that means eternal life in his everlasting presence."  Bruce R. McConkie  Speeches of the Year 1976 BYU

"To the individual who is weak in the heart;  fearful in the heart:  Be patient with yourself.  Perfection comes not in this life, but in the next life.  Don't demand things that are unreasonable, but demand of yourself improvement.  As you let the Lord help you through that, He will make the difference."  Elder Russell M. Nelson Video Segment for the Plan of Salvation Lesson--New Youth Curriculum

It's encouraging to think that faith and direction determine my ultimate destination; not how close I am to perfection right now.

"Wherefore, ye may also have hope, and be partakers of the gift, if ye will but have faith."  Ether 12:9

"Having faith on the Lord; having a hope that ye shall receive eternal life; having the love of God always in your hearts, that ye may be lifted up at the last day and enter into his rest."  Alma 13:29

Even when I have faith, I still need to hope that I am good enough; that I will overcome and accomplish; that God will accept and forgive me.  Some days that's easier than others.

Sweet Sixteen

My little girl is on her first date. 

His name is Cole.

  I am calm—not stressed; not scared or worried. 

I don’t know if that’s good or bad.
The day had a lot of twists and turns, but that’s another story for another post.  This one is just about how beautiful she is and how much I love her.

25 Words or Less

I didn’t listen to all of general conference yet because I was on vacation with my hubby  of 20 years.  One talk did make me think and I decided to see what I could come up with.  There was a story of a prisoner of war who after years of being held was allowed to write to his family, but had to give his message in 25 words.  I had heard the story before.  This time though--I think because I haven’t been able to speak to Ian for years now-- it struck me.

What could I say to my husband and kids that they would be sure it was me and let them know how much they meant to me.  I don’t think I would be as overtly religious in tone as the man in the story.  I think my whole family would know those expectations anyway.  Let me give it a try.

For Ian

GooberSnout-  I hope you are cooking “stuff in a pot” and talking about Superheroes.  I hear you telling me to take a breath.  I love you.

For Lucy

Lulu-  Please don’t be tough all the time.  You’re smart and pretty and you’ve always been good enough for me.  Now be happy.  I love you.

For Mikey

Somebody loves you little sweetie.  Don’t ever stop being ticklish or patient or compassionate.   Pick some blueberries and climb a tree often.  I love you.

For Keith

Red beard; green eyes; perfect man.  Thanks for waiting for me and calling me beautiful.  You were usually right;  happy, and obedient.  I love you.

Apparently there’s a game called 25 words or less.  I think I’m going to have to start looking for it at thrift stores so we can all play it together.

20 years

Keith and I have been married 20 whole years.  It’s hard to believe.  We’ve been through a lot.  Cross-country moves;  lay-offs; chronic serious illness;  debt;  loss of parent;  loss of child.  Maybe someday I’ll be able to tell what those things really do to a marriage, but for today, I just want to celebrate.
I booked us a trip to Seattle to commemorate the occasion.  I’m really cheap—no frugal.  There’s a difference.  I spent hours looking things over online before booking.  I got airfare for 2 and 4 nights hotel for $800.  Yeah, I know!  I also bought us CityPasses to cover most of our expenses while we were there for another $150.  I think if I hadn’t found it for so little, I’d still be wishing we could see Seattle.  Here it is:

This is one of my favorite shots.  Of course Keith’s aren’t in the computer for me to choose from, but I got some really great pictures too.  We had dinner up in the Space Needle on the 2nd—our anniversary.  I had scallops, just like on our honeymoon.  In fact, I think I had them either 2 or 3 times.

This is where I bought $30 worth of smoked salmon to snack on the rest of the day (also a honeymoon memory).  Pike’s Market reminded me of both Faneuil Hall in Boston and Hong Kong.

There was a tulip festival going on so all the bouquets had tulips.  Some had cherry blossoms and some had pussy willows.  It was amazing.

This is my best shot from the aquarium.  This otter kept rolling under the water while he was eating the clams.  He would tuck them in his “armpit” not to lose them while he was under.

I love my cheap simple camera.  It does such a good job. 

I can’t remember what the name of this fish was, but it should have something to do with camouflage.

What kind of attraction is a gum wall?  If you can believe it, there’s no vendor there selling gum.

View from the Harbor Cruise.  Keith got some great ones with the Space Needle, but I didn’t.

Butterflies at the science museum.  It was especially fun to see them after watching the IMAX movie about Monarch Migration.

Museum of Flight at Boeing Field was so interesting.  I loved going up in the tower and seeing all the live blips on the screen where all the planes in America were at that minute.  I also loved the Concorde.  Our tour guide was really great and told us stories about so many of the planes.  We spent the good part of a day in this one museum. 
None of my pictures of the EMP turned out.  It was pretty dark in there.  It was probably my least favorite as I’m not a fan or horror movies or Kurt Cobain.  The art museum had some neat stuff in it but we were amazed by the blown glass at the Chihuly Garden and Glass right next to the Space Needle.

This is the inside and next is the outside.  Yes, those things in the background are blown glass.

We rode the Ferris Wheel.  In the rain.  It was great, no line, we got a car all to ourselves.

We went in the coolest hot shop where Keith looked at fedoras.

We went to the first-ever Starbucks;  Ate the “World’s Best Mac and Cheese” and tried donuts we’d heard about at Top Pot.  We shopped on 5th Avenue;  Visited Chinatown and did all our traveling on public transit, including the monorail.
We visited a glass blowing factory and stood there gawking for nearly an hour.

I even got a photo of them throwing the fish at  Pike’s—it’s just blurry. 

Finally, one photo of me—not the best one, I might add.  It’s taken riding the light-rail train back to our hotel at the end of a long day.

It’s been a good 20.  There have been some days lately where I’ve been surprised at how thankful I feel.

Easter



This past month all of the lessons for the youth have been focused on the Atonement.  I taught the first one of the month and I chose  the one on grace.  It taught me a lot.  I learned that the strength to do righteous things is also grace, not just the part of my sins that I can’t make up for.  I learned that the “SAVED BY GRACE” is the big emphasized part and the “after all that I can do” is the little miniscule part that hardly makes a blip on the screen.  Not that it’s any less needed, just that I’m not earning my way to heaven.  It’s a gift no matter what.

We had a lesson on the resurrection and heard  wonderful stories about families who lost members and how everything was alright because of the resurrection.  When the advisor asked for my thoughts on that, I’m sure she didn’t know what was coming.  I told the girls that knowing about resurrection doesn’t make death easy—that the story was simplistic and death is still unbearable, but that the resurrection and the assurance of immortality makes it better.
Today We were singing the Easter hymn —Christ the Lord is Risen Today.  It’s a really happy hymn and it makes me feel so good to sing it, but as we sang the 3rd verse about the sting of death,  I couldn’t help thinking about how Jesus wept when his friend Lazarus died.  “Jesus wept.”  That famous verse that all young children learn because it’s the shortest.  He knew he would raise him.  He knew things would be alright.  He knew the sisters would only have to grieve a little while longer.  But, He wept for his friend.
I’m going to use a reference here that is so random, but it’s pretty pertinent.  “Everything will be all right in the end... if it's not all right then it's not yet the end.”   That’s from an excellent movie I made Keith watch with me this weekend,  The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel.  That’s my take on the atonement; on life; on the plan of salvation.
That brings me to something else.  I had to give a talk in December.  I earned a new scripture with that talk.  I definitely feel I own it.  It gives me joy—the real true joy.  Let me explain.  God’s plan has many names.  In Alma 41 it is called the plan of restoration, then in chapter 42 we get the terms plan of salvation, plan of happiness, plan of redemption and plan of mercy.  Those are the ones we all hear about and give obediently when we are asked in Sunday School.  I found a name I like better; one that means even more to me.  It is found it 2nd Nephi chapter 11 verse 5.  It says: 
“And also my soul delighteth in the covenants of the Lord which he hath made to our fathers; yea, my soul delighteth in his grace, and in his justice, and  power and mercy in the great and eternal plan of deliverance from death.”
Isn’t that the coolest verse ever?  THE GREAT AND ETERNAL PLAN FOR DELIVERENCE FROM DEATH.  I want to be delivered from death.  I want everyone I love to be delivered from death.  PLUS, it includes all the other cool things about the atonement—grace, justice, power and mercy.
I delight in that too.  I delight in Easter.  I delight in hope—the hope that is possible because of Easter.

Societal Sin

I don't know where I saw it or read it--it was a long time ago.  It's scrawled on a little piece of paper in a pile of blog post things that I haven't written.  It's interesting.

Social engineering means "the art of gaining information by lying." 

There's a fancy, smart-sounding euphemism for lying to get what you want.  Amazing.  I really wish I could remember the context of that--what I thought of it at the time. 
On the back of the paper it says:
Socialite
social media
social networking
social gathering
sociopath
social climber
Tonight I add:
social situation
social security--don't get me started
social norms
A lot of those could have a slightly deceptive or manipulative (out for gain) undertone, couldn't  they?

I think if I was honest, I socially engineer at times.  I say things in a way to get the information I want.  I don't lie.  I'm a horrible liar.   I do, however, think long and hard about how to say things so that I will find out what I want to know and I interpret every word and try to assign it meaning.  I also omit. 

Lucy was telling me the other day about laying (I never remember if it's laying or lying) in bed thinking about a conversation she had and how she could have done it differently and why didn't she do this or say that.  I stopped her mid-sentence and told her to figure out how to not do that while she's still a teen because it will eat away at her later in life.

That's social engineering, right?  Plotting; maneuvering in conversation--whatever you want to call it.  Then there's the debrief afterward when you think,  "Wait a minute, did she mean....."  I'm thinking that in dissecting this and giving it attention that I now know it's a behavior I have to change.  Drag.  Another sin I commit that I didn't even realize.  That's the bad thing about a blog that's so self-focused, you find out all your flaws.

Okay, anyone who has this blog address doesn't need to worry.  I'm pretty open with all of you------or you wouldn't have the address.

Tidy Whities

Well, I’ve sunk to a new low today. 

I’ve been watching my life change over the past 6 months and while there is cause for relief, there are also warning signs that should never be ignored.  Here’s the thing:  I’m doing better enough to have normal  problems again. 
 
Mikey got up this morning and had no clean underwear for school.  I had to tell my son to wear yesterday’s underwear to school.  How awful is that?  What kind of mother am I?  This has never happened in 18+ years of being a mom.

I’m putting on a few pounds.  I’m comfort eating.  I’m bored eating and stress eating and not manically  burning calories to try and keep my mind busy.  It sucks.  2 years ago I was never eating and while I didn’t care how I looked, my body looked better. 

What else?  Because I’m not looking for spiritual meanings in things and writing about them,  I don’t see them much.    In fact, it’s been kind of a drought in that department.  Maybe it’s because Keith isn’t reaping the “bishop blessings” anymore. 

Ahh, the problems of normalness.  I’ll take them any day.  Oh yeah, still have the colossal problem too.  I miss you Ian.

Devoted, but not Hopelessly

A friend of mine made a comment in Sunday School that has stuck with me.  Here it is:

"All we need is faith and devotion."

I don't even remember the context, but the words have really stuck with me.  That sentence is only 7 words long and yet we could have days long discussions on it or several volumes of books written on it. 
Faith is a huge word encompassing complicated feelings and varying amounts on knowledge.  It is understood by 4 year old children and not comprehended by university scholars.  Even so,  I think, of the 2 nouns here, it's the more concrete.

How does one explain devotion?  You can't see or touch it any more than you can faith, and yet it is the expression of that faith.  It has implied measurement.  It includes love and respect and obedience and diligence and every other word in the Bible Dictionary.  All of our acts of love and service; our worship; our repentance; everything lies somewhere on our own personal but invisible devotion scale.

This scale isn't one where we can measure against others either.  It's personal, which is why it is so hard to define.  Whatever I say about it could be refuted by someone who sees it completely different.

It makes me think of the Chinese characters for faith.  Belief and Heart=believing heart.  I don't know what the characters are for devotion.  I should do some research.  To me they should be Belief and Hands=believing hands.  Devotion is what we do with our faith.
 
No, I guess what I should say is Devotion is what I do with my faith.  Everyone else can define the term the way their own faith dictates.

This Woman's Lib

I've posted a lot of things that I thought no one would understand.  This is one of those posts.  The topic is liberation. 

I feel such a huge weight lifted off of me the last month.  It's a little frightening what that weight was.  I'm kind of a "push back" person.  When I feel cornered, I come out swinging.  I play devil's advocate.  I don't want to be a sheep.  You get the idea.

Being a bishop's wife put me in a box--probably only in my own head, but what I felt or thought is what shaped my reality.  I felt pressure to be a certain way.  To have all the Sunday School Answer parts of my life in a row. I  Even in the face of the greatest adversity.  Keith was even told that people would be watching us grieve (more him than me, I'm sure).  Guess that meant we needed to appear strong even if we weren't feeling it.  May I just say, I think Keith handled counseling others in their trials quite well--course I know very little about that, but I'm proud of him.  What happened to me personally though was that I secretly resisted.  I pulled back from the things that I should do. 

Is that pride or sheer rebellion?  I don't know.

Here's where I'm liberated.  I feel now that I can pray because I want to;  read my scriptures and study the gospel just because I want to.  Not because I'm supposed to or because someone is watching.  Not because it's my duty to support my bishop husband.  I've always been insecure spiritually.  My whole life.  I don't know exactly what I've wanted, but I still haven't found it. 

Today, as I was reading my scriptures, I had a thought about something else and acted on it immediately.  It made my day easier.  It felt good and I realized that it was a teeny tiny bit of inspiration.