Smile

Not the best ever photo but it's the selfie Lucy took to sign up for the ACT so it's appropriate for this post.  She got a 34!  Is that great or what?  I thought the 2120 on the SAT was good, but she tells me that this ACT score is even better.

I promised her clear back in October that I would post about her being admitted to Southern Utah University with a full scholarship and I haven't done it.  This week she was admitted into the honors program and encouraged to apply for an honors housing scholarship as well.  Wouldn't that be great?

By the way, She applied to Northern Arizona, BYU, and Tulane in Louisiana.  She's stubborn--didn't want anything to do with a school in CA.  Couldn't talk her into applying to an Ivy League though.  She didn't want to waste the money on fees to a school that was too far away.  (Tulane gave her free application.)

She's having a pretty good school year.  She's still dating Austin.  She's in preconditioning for softball and leading the mock trial team.  She had grade issues again though--got behind while at Yosemite for a leadership trip and never really caught back up.  It's a good thing that AP classes earn a 4.0 for a B.

She asked me to hide her phone and tablet over the Christmas break so she can finish personal progress, not as much so she can feel the accomplishment, but more so she can skip Tuesday nights more and not deal with her leaders as much.  (No, I'm not one of her leaders anymore.)

I guess the thing that I'm most happy about is that she really likes me again.  We had a couple pretty tough years.  Losing Ian in the middle of her terrible teens made even more excruciating for both of us.  Now, she wants to spend time with me.  She even told Keith that he needed to sleep on the couch last night so she could be in bed with me.

nothing much

Haven't done this for a while.
I've come to many conclusions.

Having a broken heart and a contrite spirit means you're open.  You're listening.  You're able to feel.
Feeling is not necessarily  good.  Lots of things hurt your heart when it's open.

Taking the time to write down your thoughts means you took time to understand your thoughts.  Sometimes it's better to put your head down and power through.  Not all thoughts are productive.

Most people (me included) at most times are the natural man.  We don't like change.  We're lazy and we think of ourselves.  Pretty pessimistic.

I just wanted to say a little something because my blog has been inactive so long I don't want to lose access to it.  Is that possible?

Late for Mother's Day

I'm not a real fan of Mother's Day anymore.
Whatever.
Mine was fine.
It was what I asked for.
Quiet.
No Frills.
Just a picnic in a park.
I love the frame that I got at church last year for Mother's Day.
It has a quote in it.

"Motherhood is not a hobby,  it is a calling.
It is not something to do if you can squeeze the time in.
It is what God gave you time for."  ---Neil L. Anderson

I have personal pursuits; hobbies; interests; and avocations. Motherhood trumps all of them.
I'm glad it does.
I'm glad I'm a mom.
I'm even at a place where I can say I'm glad I got to have 16 years as Ian's mom.
That was a gift--
An extension of what I now believe could have been a lot less without all the pleadings and blessings and miracles.

Life after Delivery

I heard a cute story.  It's probably all over the Internet being forwarded around in emails but I still thought it was cute and had a good point.  Here it is with a few grammar corrections by me:

In a mother's womb were 2 babies.  Yes--twins.

One asked the other: "Do you believe in life after delivery?"  

      The other replied, "why, of course.  There has to be something after delivery.  Maybe we are here to prepare ourselves for what we will be later."  

     "Nonsense," said the other.  "There is no life after delivery.  What would that life be?"  

     "I don't know, but there will be more light than here.  Maybe we will walk with our legs and eat from our mouths."  

     The other said, "That is absurd!  Walking is impossible, and eating with our mouths?  Ridiculous.  The umbilical cord supplies nutrition.  Walking after delivery is to be excluded.  The umbilical cord is too short."  

      "I think there is something and maybe it's different than it is here."  

      The other replied, "No one has ever come back form there.  Delivery is the end of life, and in the after-delivery it is nothing but darkness and anxiety and it takes us nowhere."  

     "Well, I don't know," said the other, "but certainly we will see our mother and she will take care of  us."  

     "Mother??  You believe in mother?  Where is she now?"  

     "She is all around us.  It is in her that we live.  Without her there would not be this world."  

     "I don't see her, so it's only logical that she doesn't exist."  

      To this, the other replied,  "Sometimes when you're in silence you can hear her.  You can perceive her.  I believe there is a reality after delivery and we are here to prepare ourselves for that reality."

Interesting.  Makes me think.

Intimacy Issues

I had an interesting conversation with my bishop last week.  It was about how there isn't much communication in our YW presidency.  I said maybe it was because I don't text.  Then I made and interesting confession--not one that many bishops expect I'm sure.  I said "I just let people think I can't text. It used to be true, but isn't anymore."  I told him it's easier to tell people that I can't than that I won't.

In thinking about it, I've come to some interesting conclusions about myself.  I have intimacy issues.  I don't to text people or receive texts from people who I'm not already sure love me.  Cursory "Whatcha doing?" notes from Keith or "I'll be 20 minutes late" warnings from Lucy or "I forgot my permission slip" requests from Mikey are acceptable because I know that over the dinner table that night we'll have  a real conversation. It isn't our sole means of informing each other of things.  We all have an understanding that face time (Not the computer/phone thing) is important and necessary.

Keith and the kids understand that I keep my phone in my purse and may or may not check it.  They know I'd rather hear their voices.  They are the ones that could call me at 11 pm if they needed and not be rude.
They are the ones who can make expectations on me.  They aren't intruding on my personal life or time. They are my personal life and time.

Like I said I keep my phone in my purse--with my checkbook balance and my tampons.  Acquaintances, coworkers, presidency members--they don't belong in there.  Or in my back pocket.  Or on my night stand. or on my dates with my husband.

When I was living with Keith's parents before we got married, Sherry insisted on doing my laundry--there was a certain day for clothes and one for sheets.  I hated that.  Laundry is intimate to me.  Nobody washes my clothes but me.  When we lost Ian, a sister in my word (who cleans houses) wanted to come by and clean my bathrooms.  I think she was offended when I refused.  Again, intimate.  So I guess I have weird boundaries.  I keep this blog pretty private--with my phone, my laundry and my bathroom.

That said, the few people that have this blog address are also in my inner circle and can text me anytime.

I Miss Ian

Just looking at old photos today and this one made me happy and sad!  A little more sad than happy.

God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob

I've been thinking about Abraham for weeks--yes, Abraham in the Bible.  We were taught and reminded of his story several weeks ago in Sunday School and heard about it again in general conference last weekend. I've been stuck on it and the interpretations of it and finally came to a conclusion that makes sense to me. Here are excerpts  from the book of Abraham in the Pearl of Great Price with the picture:

 12 And it came to pass that the priests laid violence upon me, that they might slay me also, as they did those virgins upon this altar; and that you may have a knowledge of this altar, I will refer you to the representation at the commencement of this record.
 13 It was made after the form of a bedstead, such as was had among the Chaldeans, and it stood before the gods of Elkenah, Libnah, Mahmackrah, Korash, and also a god like unto that of Pharaoh, king of Egypt.
 14 That you may have an understanding of these gods, I have given you the fashion of them in the figures at the beginning, which manner of figures is called by the Chaldeans Rahleenos, which signifies hieroglyphics.
 15 And as they lifted up their hands upon me, that they might offer me up and take away my life, behold, I lifted up my voice unto the Lord my God, and the Lord hearkened and heard, and he filled me with the vision of the Almighty, and the angel of his presence stood by me, and immediately unloosed my bands;
 16 And his voice was unto me: Abraham, Abraham, behold, my name is Jehovah, and I have heard thee, and have come down to deliver thee, and to take thee away from thy father’s house, and from all thy kinsfolk, into a strange land which thou knowest not of;
 17 And this because they have turned their hearts away from me, to worship the god of Elkenah, and the god of Libnah, and the god of Mahmackrah, and the god of Korash, and the god of Pharaoh, king of Egypt; therefore I have come down to visit them, and to destroy him who hath lifted up his hand against thee, Abraham, my son, to take away thy life.
 18 Behold, I will lead thee by my hand, and I will take thee, to put upon thee my name, even the Priesthood of thy father, and my power shall be over thee.
 19 As it was with Noah so shall it be with thee; but through thy ministry my name shall be known in the earth forever, for I am thy God.

It doesn't sound like anything a person would ever forget.  The memory of it would be embedded in the mind forever.  "I was on an altar, ready to be killed and God saved me."

Fast forward to his experience with Isaac:

 1 And it came to pass after these things, that God did tempt Abraham, and said unto him, Abraham: and he said, Behold, here I am.
 2 And he said, Take now thy son, thine only son Isaac, whom thou lovest, and get thee into the land of Moriah; and offer him there for a burnt offering upon one of the mountains which I will tell thee of.
 3 And Abraham rose up early in the morning, and saddled his ass, and took two of his young men with him, and Isaac his son, and clave the wood for the burnt offering, and rose up, and went unto the place of which God had told him.
 4 Then on the third day Abraham lifted up his eyes, and saw the place afar off.
 5 And Abraham said unto his young men, Abide ye here with the ass; and I and the lad will go yonder and worship, and come again to you.
 6 And Abraham took the wood of the burnt offering, and laid it upon Isaac his son; and he took the fire in his hand, and a knife; and they went both of them together.
 7 And Isaac spake unto Abraham his father, and said, My father: and he said, Here am I, my son. And he said, Behold the fire and the wood: but where is the lamb for a burnt offering?
 8 And Abraham said, My son, God will provide himself a lamb for a burnt offering: so they went both of them together.
 9 And they came to the place which God had told him of; and Abraham built an altar there, and laid the wood in order, and bound Isaac his son, and laid him on the altar upon the wood.
 10 And Abraham stretched forth his hand, and took the knife to slay his son.
 11 And the angel of the Lord called unto him out of heaven, and said, Abraham, Abraham: and he said, Here am I.
 12 And he said, Lay not thine hand upon the lad, neither do thou any thing unto him: for now I know that thou fearest God, seeing thou hast not withheld thy son, thine only son from me.
 13 And Abraham lifted up his eyes, and looked, and behold behind him a ram caught in a thicket by his horns: and Abraham went and took the ram, and offered him up for a burnt offering in the stead of his son.
 14 And Abraham called the name of that place Jehovah-jireh: as it is said to this day, In the mount of the Lord it shall be seen.
 15 And the angel of the Lord called unto Abraham out of heaven the second time,
 16 And said, By myself have I sworn, saith the Lord, for because thou hast done this thing, and hast not withheld thy son, thine only son:
 17 That in blessing I will bless thee, and in multiplying I will multiply thy seed as the stars of the heaven, and as the sand which is upon the sea shore; and thy seed shall possess the gate of his enemies;
 18 And in thy seed shall all the nations of the earth be blessed; because thou hast obeyed my voice.

Here are Elder L. Tom Perry's words about it from last week:

Abraham’s faith was tested in a way that many of us would consider unimaginable.
I have contemplated on many occasions the story of Abraham and Isaac, and I still do not believe I fully comprehend Abraham’s faithfulness and obedience. Perhaps I can imagine him faithfully packing up to leave early one morning, but how did he take all those steps alongside his son Isaac over the three-day journey to the base of Mount Moriah? How did they carry the wood for the fire up the mountain? How did he build the altar? How did he bind Isaac and lay him on the altar? How did he explain to him that he would be the sacrifice? And how did he have the strength to lift the knife to slay his son? Abraham’s faith empowered him to follow God’s lead with exactness up until the miraculous moment when an angel called out from heaven, announcing to Abraham that he had passed his agonizing test. And then the angel of the Lord repeated the promise of the Abrahamic covenant.

I think the way he did all that was that he was uniquely qualified as perhaps the only person on the earth who had ever survived the experience.  He knew that God could step in at the last possible second and save his son in exactly the same manner that He had saved him.  That's what he had to be thinking the whole time.

President Harold B. Lee is credited with the much quoted line of "whom the Lord calls, the Lord qualifies." Abraham was qualified. Heavenly Father wasn't torturing Abraham; He was testing him and because of his past experiences and real visitations, he was prepared (at least on some level) to handle  a test of this magnitude.
We, like the Savior learn obedience through the things that we suffer. Absolutely, Abraham suffered.  But, I think he was prepared.  He was given an extraordinary knowledge that God can and does step in.
I also believe that Isaac had heard the story of his father being 'almost sacrificed' as many times as every child has heard their father's best story.  He was aware.  He didn't follow foolishly without asking any questions.  They probably had the warmest, most loving, honest time  they had ever had together on that trip.
And what about Isaac's faith and obedience and trust and fear and submission--"even as a child doth submit to his father."  He's probably the reference for that line of later scripture.

Lastly, I think Sarah knew what was going on too.  That's why she was gone when they got back.  She had the faith and knew her husband would be obedient, but she didn't couldn't muster the physical strength to wait for the outcome.  She probably died of a broken heart hoping both her husband and son would return.

Prom

That's my girl.
At the Country Club.
With a pedicure and glittery sandals.
She even got her hair done at a salon.--You can do that when you find a great dress for $16.00.  Yes new--no thrifting for prom.
Glad her motto is "modest is hottest."  I don't have to worry about the shrug coming off during the night.

Right now as I write this she's at a pool party with boys and girls.  Yikes.  I had to ask whose parents would be there and if she had made sure there would be no alcohol and admonish her that while she was in her suit and wet there was no touching a boyfriend.  Parenting keeps getting harder.  As much as I hate her growing up--I know it beats the alternative.  I want her to enjoy life--be good, but be happy.  I have to keep lengthening the leash.

Strong Witnesses for the Savior

I watched general conference today.  And yesterday.  It was good.  Really good.  I have highlights.

More than 1 apostle gave a talk that sounded like Elder McConkie's last testimony.  Very, very strongly worded witnesses.  I hope they will not be their last words to us.

Gratitude is not about what we have--not even the blessings we have.  It's an attitude of faith.  We don't have to wait for everything to turn out right to be thankful.  I was thinking about it tonight, about what God really wants from us and I think it is what I want from my children.  I want them to show me they love me by doing what I ask of them.  I want them to acknowledge me when they succeed--not credit me or praise me, just remember me.  That's what God wants isn't it?

I am a pick-up truck carrying a load.  The load I carry helps me get back to my Heavenly Father.  Yes, this was a story in a talk--I guess you had to be there.  Maybe I'll link it sometime.  I'll have to read it over and over to understand it fully because I think it meant that some loads and good and some aren't.  Getting strength from carrying a load is good--unless it's sin.  Challenges can be strengthening but I'd rather my truck never got stuck and needed weight in the back.  The one thing I did think of this talk was some loads are a lode.  A treasure.  Precious in what they teach, but still a burden.  It's a good thing Christ has a yoke that's stronger than four wheel drive.

Mikey learned that getting a ride with a stranger can be a good thing.  Oops.  That was a really good talk. I can't remember the over-arching subject but it was really good. In fact, I was really impressed with both of the sisters' talks this time.  I know how sexist I am when it comes to conference, but this time I was happily surprised.  Both great talks.  One on pornography.  Guess that means it's now a problem women have too.  Yikes.

Elder Scott stills loves his wife Jeanene.  His devotion and love for her is a treasure and I say that without any of my usual sarcasm.  I mean it.  She is still part of his life and that makes me smile.
If there was one topic that was repeated more than others, I would say it was to the youth--Be strong and don't be afraid of standing alone.  Hmm--how did the general authorities get a hold of my last post?

Standing up and Standing out

San Joaquin County Mock Trial Winners

Lucy's had quite a time of it lately.  She's seen and learned some things that I would have liked to put off for later.  The thing that has made it the most frustrating--for me, not her-- is that all the people she's been watching make bad choices have been members of our church.
Wouldn't it be great if they had the same standards she does?  I really should have recorded this weeks ago so I could do it with better clarity, but without all the details there is one thing I really want to get down.  We were riding in the car and I told Lucy it is a good lesson to learn that when you stand for something, you don't always have people standing behind you like in the Thomas S. Monson  video.

Here it is. It's only 4 minutes.

Now that you've watched it you will understand how significant Lucy's comment was.  She said, "It's okay if I stand alone.  It will make it easier for God to see me."  She's growing up beautifully.

Notice the cap sleeve on the formal dress she chose.

She's brilliant, but better than that, she's wise.  And even though I would rather everyone around her was strong too, I've had some great chances as a mom to counsel her when she's come to me.
Yeah!
And no, this boy didn't have a thing to do with any of the issues.  He's quite a catch and looking forward to a mission in 18 months.

Not an Honor

I wasn't raised by a single parent.  If  I ever win an award or dedicate a book or go on a talk show, that's what I will say.  My parents love me.  They love each other.  They wanted the best for me.  My mom didn't get pregnant out of wedlock.  They made good decisions.  They took my life and upbringing into account when they acted.
I have to say I'm tired of people speaking of their sainted single parents.  I know that all situations are different and some are not single parents as a result of their own actions, but dare I say, that most are.

Most of the single parents out there made bad choices and their children are suffering because of it.
My parents didn't have it easy.  They moved cross country  multiple times.  They didn't have their family near them.  They encountered difficult job situations and persecution over their religion.  They got married very young by today's standard at 18 and 21.  They suffered the loss of a child which nearly broke them.  In fact, it did break their marriage for a year's time.  They lived apart.  Somehow they overcame.  They forgave. They put my welfare and that of my remaining brothers at the forefront of their minds.  They weren't selfish. They didn't decide that it was too hard to fix.  They didn't cut their losses.  They kept their commitments.  I'm proud of them.
My family is not immune from divorce.  It's not free from pregnancy out of marriage.  I'm not judging those I love.  I am judging society as a whole.  It's become too easy to think in the short term; to say "oh well."  It's too easy in this world of pseudo-tolerance to do whatever feels good at the time and damn the consequences.

Too many kids are shuttled back and forth every week.  They don't have a real home or a real identity. They don't have permanence in their lives.  They don't trust that everything will be okay.  They wonder if they can really have love that lasts.

I'm here to say it's possible.
I'm here to thank my parents for not being single parents.
I'm here to promise my kids they won't ever have single parents.
It's not a badge of honor to say "My mom did it on her own" --even in Hollywood.

Not Fear of the Unknown

Can't shake the feeling.

I've been saying for at least a year that I was enjoying Lucy growing up;  being a teenager;  dating;  driving. That I was taking it in stride--didn't get to do it with Ian and it was going to be all pleasure with Lucy.  It hit me yesterday as I made myself call the insurance company to add her to the auto policy.  I started bawling.

Dread.

I called my mom.  I thought she was the only one that would understand the terror I feel at the thought of Lucy getting smooshed in a car accident.  None of my friends or family members who've gone through their kids getting driver's licenses know what it's like to lose a child.  They are scared, but they don't even know exactly what they are scared of.

My mom tried to reassure me and told me to pray and have Lucy pray every time she gets in the car.  That made it worse.  Who had more prayers said on their behalf than Ian?  God took him anyway.  He could take Lucy too if  He chose.  One day she could leave the house and never come home.

Been there.  Done that.

I've been able to control things more for Lucy, even though I couldn't with Ian.  That's not saying it right.  I know that she has a healthy body and if I feed her right and make sure she gets enough sleep and some exercise that she can have a good life.  I didn't doom her from the beginning with a broken body.

But all the years of car seats and swimming lessons and stranger-danger talks can't give me the assurance I need now.

I'm not in charge.

Super Powers

I have a special affinity for super heroes.  I have many memories that have little bits and pieces of super heroes mixed in.  I remember going to the mall just to be out of a small apartment in New Hampshire and only having a few dollars to spend.  Ian would be in the stroller and I would just walk to get my mind off whatever the medical issue of the day was.  We would always end up at KayBee Toys.  I could buy an action figure for 3 or 4 dollars, less if they were having a sale, and he would light up like I'd just bought him a pony.  He had a super hero birthday party complete with costumes, tug-of-war and parade down the street.

When he got his own bedroom in our house in Texas, it was to be a super hero room.  That was before there was any hero merchandise to be found.  I had to make everything.  It was a great adventure for my creativity.  Those characters--caricatures if you will, made him laugh.  They helped his imagination and communication center heal.  They also gave him a safe, alternative universe where differences were revered.

I've seen more episodes of super hero cartoons than most people and slept through several full-length movies.  I guess what I'm saying is that I don't have a grudge and I'm not completely ignorant either.  I do have a feeling though about the fairly recent flood of super hero and fantasy/fairy tale options in our media today.  Some might say that it's reaching, but I don't think so.

People--(adults, I'm primarily talking about because a lot of it is very adult, even R or Mature rated) are drawn in to these themes because they are very sly tools of Satan.  WHAT?  Did I just say that?  Here's my take:  Something inside us--our spirit, already knows about special powers and miraculous things.  Walking on water is a good example.

I believe Satan has colluded with Syndrome from the Incredibles and is working as the great counterfeiter  to make us believe, "When everyone is super, then no one will be."  If magic and fantasy and people with special powers (Even fictional ones) are so commonplace around us, it lessens the greatness of the Savior, who is the only true Superhero.  That's his goal right?

And these days even the superhero doesn't always do the right thing. I didn't see it myself--couldn't bring myself to because "Batman is better than Superman" but I heard that in Man of Steel, Superman kills the guy in the end.  Doesn't sound good to me.

Jesus is the only real super hero.  He, not Hercules, is the only man to be born literally of a God and I really truly believe that He takes a hit every time somebody else gets credit for supernatural things. Superheroes are entertaining.  Like I said, they have a very dear place in my life.  They need to be kept within certain parameters. With certain understandings.  If Christ came today and we saw what he could do on the news or the internet, would our initial reaction be that they used special effects or CGI or cut the tape in creative editing?  I think we need to be careful.  Just saying.

Obama's Killing the Dream

I've been saying for months that I was going to rewrite Martin Luther King's famous I Have a Dream speech as given  now by President Obama as "I killed the Dream."  I printed the original out today at work so I could get started on it.  In reading the original text I felt disgusted at the direction things have gone and decided I couldn't really rewrite the speech without coming across as  horribly pessimistic and racist.

My hero as a child was Abraham Lincoln.  I've written about it.  I read every book I could about him because he freed the slaves.  I thought that was the best thing that had ever happened.  I still do.  I've learned a lot about slavery since then.  I learned that some blacks had slaves too which really shocked me.  I learned that slaves were regarded and treated differently in different places.  I learned that after the emancipation proclamation, blacks actually became quite powerful in the South as far as government was concerned and that led to all kinds of new problems.

My point is that I'm not horribly pessimistic or racist or naive either, for that matter.  Over the years of my adult life, I've had the opportunity that wasn't afforded me in my childhood hometown to get to know several black people in various capacities and found that they were no different than the white or brown people I've known. Some of them were good people, some of them were very good people and some of them were not. No giant surprise.

My thoughts about the "Dream" speech are this:  We are almost as far from judging people by their character as we were in the 60's.  Over the years the only idea we've had to combat the problem is that we need to bring some people down so others can rise.  We've used it to elevate women as well as minorities.  I don't understand the thinking behind it.   I don't think that is  what Martin Luther King wanted.  He wanted opportunity for those around him.   I don't think he'd be pleased with the outcome of many laws and statutes on the books today.  I don't think he'd want us counting people by the color of their skin for jobs or college or anything else any more than I do.  I don't think he'd want the same things that President Obama wants.  I hope he wouldn't  be in favor of ideas set forth by people like Jesse Jackson or Louis Farrakhan.  I hope he'd have a mix of black and white friends and I think they would be of all financial backgrounds.

I hope he wouldn't  be in favor of redistribution of wealth in this country.  I hope he'd be in favor of free market, because after all, he was an advocate for freedom; for people being able to make their own way, not for people being entitled to do nothing--black, white, or any shade of brown in between. 

This is what I'd like to think about the reverend doctor.  I didn't know him.  I can't really judge his character, only his legacy.  Here's my dream:  I dream for a better nation too; where we all contribute; where we all feel responsible; where everyone is equal in hope, ambition and opportunity.  I dream for a nation where sitting back and doing nothing won't create a better life experience than working and earning.