Peace Begins With Me

One Sunday afternoon McKay announced that he wanted to make me breakfast in bed the next morning. I knew he was determined when he brought it up several times and even got my order. “I'll be up early so I can go swimming,” I told him. He looked disappointed and then declared that I could go back to bed for breakfast.


The next morning when McKay got out of bed I had already been up for a couple hours. It was the last day of the Christmas break and I was swimming in laundry, the house was a mess and I was hoping to get the kids to help me take the decorations down. I was ready to jump into my work, but McKay's excited expression and my resolution to be more present with my kids sent me to my room. I had to hush my inner task master who chided me for not getting down to business. I slipped off my shoes and slid into bed with my journal. At least I could do some thinking and writing. I had no such luck.


Just as I got settled Emma came into the room and crawled into bed with me. I felt annoyed and I just wanted her to go away. Instead, I remembered my resolve and looked into her eyes and listened to her chatter. The more I focused on her the quieter my task master became and my annoyance ebbed away until there was just the sweetness of her company.


When McKay came in with my breakfast tray he looked proud and humble all at once. He wasn't sure the omelet was good enough, but I quickly assured him that it was beautiful, just the way I liked it with a little fried cheese hanging onto the edge. He beamed and then waved Peter out of the room with him so they could go play. He really is such a sweet boy.


Emma sat with me as I ate and wondered where her breakfast was. After all, she'd ordered hers last night too. She went and asked McKay, but he was too busy with his own affairs. I offered to make her breakfast in bed and she was so excited. She went to her bed and I brought her an omelet. Then, even though I longed to get to the piles of laundry and dishes, I stayed and kept her company. When she slipped out of bed she seemed filled, not only with her breakfast, but with peace.


Camilla wanted to make chocolate muffins that morning so she spent some time finding a recipe. She printed two and we discussed which we thought would work better. I stayed in the kitchen with her, cleaning up as she mixed it all together. We talked about this and that, nothing of real importance. It was simply nice to be working there together. The muffins were delicious.


Later in the morning I asked Sarah to come fold towels with me. She came and we began to visit. She followed me into the kitchen and we talked some more as I worked on the dishes. We talked about her future. She wasn't sure where she wants to go to school or what she wants to study. I promised her that if she stayed close to the Lord He would lead her where she needs to be, the course of study she needs to pursue and the things she should focus on. I told her to trust Him and not worry. He would lead her along. I saw a burden lift from her shoulders and a light enter her eyes that had been missing. We hadn't had a good visit like that in a long time and I think her distracted mother might have had something to do with it.


Emma was looking for something to do and I suggested she make a paper doll house out of magazine pictures like I used to as a little girl. I had a stack of magazines I was meaning to throw away. I pulled them out and we started looking for kitchens, bedrooms, living rooms and patios to put in her doll house. I got her started and left her to it. Before long Camilla joined her in pulling it all together.


That afternoon I spent some time with Peter finishing one of his assignments for scouts. We planned a menu and went to the store to price out the cost. He held my phone with the calculator open and carefully added up our purchases. We had to cut dessert out of the menu to stay within our budget, but we were able to put together his favorite meal for just $10. Peter seemed happy and content as we left the store. He had accomplished his assignment and I had spent time just with him.


When Harold got home that evening the house was still a mess and so little had gotten done. I felt frustrated and a little angry with myself. Why couldn't I have gotten more done? Why must I be in a panic at dinnertime? The rush to get dinner ready was the hardest time for me to hold on to my resolve. That's when I wanted to start snapping at the kids. Emma was whining about what Camilla was doing with her dollhouse and I could have and usually would have lost it. I took a deep breath and thought of the vision of the kind of mom I really want to be. Instead of yelling at the girls to get along I stopped and took a minute to help. Just stopping and helping brought calm to my heart again.


The kitchen never did get clean. The laundry didn't get done. Christmas didn't get put away. But I made real connections with my children and that gave me hope. I think it gave them hope too. The holidays are time of huge distraction for me. I am very busy trying to pull off a magical Christmas. I have high expectations for myself and when I get into the mode of making things perfect I lose sight of what matters most to me. My children are quick to recognize my inability to focus on them and it seems like they find especially annoying ways to make me focus on them. As the Christmas break progressed the teasing, fighting, yelling and general selfishness had increased. That single day of concerted effort to pause, listen and be there for them did more than anything else I could have done to bring peace to my home. By the end of that day there was a peaceful calm. The children were happier, they were kind to each other and there was a feeling of love in our home.

But, it wasn't easy. That day, sweet as it was in many ways, was exhausting. It took tremendous mental and emotional discipline for me to stay present. I was constantly trying to hush the nagging voice of efficiency so I could meet the needs of my children. I felt split in two. It was a strain. That is why the results of that day filled me with so much hope. If one day of focused effort could produce so much peace then imagine what small efforts every day could do. I can't express how challenging this has been for me. But, I believe the results will be worth the effort and I hope that it will get easier along the way. If I want peace and love in my home, peace and love in my relationships, peace and love in my world, it has to begin with me. It has to begin with me letting go of making things perfect, letting go of efficiency, letting go of taking care of things and holding closely to the the people who matter most to me. Like it or not I influence the peace of my home and family more than anyone else.  Peace here really does begin with me.

Don't Make Them Laugh

When I was a little girl my family was asked to speak in church.  I remember my mom creating a talk just for me.  Each day we would pull out the index card with my part and practice.  By the time we spoke I was ready.  I had memorized my part perfectly.  Sitting on the stand waiting for my turn, I was nervous, but excited. 

I climbed on the stool at the microphone and looked out over what seemed like hundreds of people.  I took a deep breath and repeated my memorized talk.  To my horror, they laughed. I stepped down from the microphone shocked and confused.  Why were they laughing?  I did it perfectly, why did they laugh?  I still remember my sadness and shame. 

Now looking back I’m certain they must have laughed because of my cuteness or how my child voice sounded in the mike.  I’m sure I tickled them and made them happy. But as I child all I could imagine for their laughter was that I’d made a mistake.

One Sunday morning Emma was in my room practicing her part for the Primary program.  She helped me write the part, supplying the example and some of the words.  It was adorable.  It made me smile every time I heard it.  As she finished up another go through I told her that when she said her part in the program the people might laugh.  Her smile faded and she crumpled. I soothed her by telling her it was okay.  They would only laugh because it was so cute, because they understood exactly what she was talking about, because it made them happy.  She wouldn’t listen.  It didn’t matter.  All my grown up reasons for their laughter didn’t change how it would make her feel to be laughed at.  I tried and tried to convince her and then I realized my mistake. 

You see, I really wanted her to say that part.  I wanted them to laugh.  I wanted them to see how cute my little girl was.  I wanted the pleasure of being part of their pleasure.  I had told her they might laugh to prepare her, not to protect her, to make sure she didn’t mess up from the surprise of their laughter.  As I realized what I was doing I felt the censure of the Spirit. We are charged not to offend our little ones, charged to protect them. 

I bent down and brushed her hair away from her face.  “We can change your part,” I said.  “It will be easy. We’ll just change these words.  It won’t be so different and they won’t laugh.” She looked up hopefully, her eyes still wet with tears. We practiced the revised part a few times and she was good to go.  She was calm, relieved and unafraid.

I don’t think she’s given the incident another thought, but I have thought of it often.  I know this isn’t the first time I have wanted to make people laugh at the expense of my child.  I would never do it maliciously or in an attempt to ridicule, but I know I have teased or shared stories to make people laugh.  I see it from an adult’s point of view.  It’s cute and fun and I just want to laugh and make others laugh too.  But to my child, who doesn’t understand the laughter, it has the potential to wound and betray.  I need to be more careful.  I need to consider what life is like for my little one.  I have to remember what it was like for me.  Hopefully, Emma will never have to feel the confusion or shame I felt when I gave my talk.  Hopefully, the first time she makes people laugh during a talk it will be because she wants to make them laugh, because she understands how laughter brings us together and makes us friends.  Until then I will protect her as much as I can.

Angelic

Yesterday I entertained angels in my home. They weren't strangers; they were well known friends. Just like angels, they came to lift and strengthen me. Just like angels, they came by assignment from God, and just like angels when they left I felt a little lighter.


Our visit was common enough. We talked of canning and drying fruit, busy schedules and children. Yet, these were the very things I was struggling with and needed to hash out with kind and experienced friends. I had read the message they gave me, but their insights helped me see things I'd missed. I was left with profound, uplifting thoughts to ponder.


As I thought of my visit with them I was reminded of the words of Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, “But when we speak of those who are instruments in the hand of God, we are reminded that not all angels are from the other side of the veil. Some of them we walk with and talk with—here, now, every day. Indeed heaven never seems closer than when we see the love of God manifested in the kindness and devotion of people so good and so pure that angelic is the only word that comes to mind.”


I'm sure when my visiting teachers knocked at my door they weren't thinking about being instruments in the hand of God. They weren't thinking about being angelic. But they are women of devotion who are “so good and so pure that angelic is the only word that comes to mind.”

There Are Good Things to Come

“Mom!” cried Emma, “Look a robin!” There it was sitting on the wall, a fat, red-breasted robin. The first robin of spring has always been cause for celebration around here. For years in Teton Valley, where winter stays on and on, we looked for the coming of robins to signal that spring was finally on its way.

The robins there often arrived before the snow was gone. They seemed courageous and a little daring to show up before winter had loosed its icy grip on the valley. Last spring I opened the curtains to see the world covered in white once more and there in the tree was a flock of robins. Their feathers were fluffed against the cold, but I didn't see any indication that they were headed back south. They were there to stay.

I've thought recently of the storms, expected and unexpected, that come into our lives. Sometimes I feel like a robin caught in a late snowstorm. I intended for there to be warmth, light and the abundance of spring, but instead I am buffeted and buried. Yet, at the same time there is an inner strength, like the robins. I’m not headed south. I’m not staying in bed. I’m not hiding from sorrow, pain and fear. I’m getting up each day, fluffing my feathers and hanging out in my tree. Like the robin, I've seen enough comings and goings of storms to know that they pass; spring does come.

This morning I read what Paul had to say about storms, “We glory in tribulations also: knowing that tribulation worketh patience; and patience experience; and experience, hope.” I don’t think I’m to the point of glorying in tribulation, but I do recognize how it works patience and gives me experience. It’s that experience that brings me hope that things will get better.

You see, I’m a believer in the one Paul called, "an high priest of good things to come.” That is where my ultimate hope comes into play. I am certain that my life is in His hands. These experiences, working patience in me, brings me closer to His good things. I love how Elder Jeffrey R. Holland put it. He said, “Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don’t come until heaven; but for those who embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ, they come.”

So, I’ll wait. I see the signs, there are crocuses, daffodils and something sweet in the air, but I’m not just talking about spring. There are good things to come.

Joy Takes Time

This morning Emma wanted to ride her bike to school.  I told her okay, but I groaned a little inside.  It would take longer and it's hot out there.  Couldn't we just take the car?  When lunch was taking a little longer I was hopeful that the bike ride was out.  Nope, we still had plenty of time.

We pulled our bikes out of the garage and headed up the road to school.  It wasn't as hot as I'd thought.  It was exhilarating to race down an incline with my little girl next to me.  We stopped at corners and checked for cars.  Emma chattered on about how good she was at riding a bike and how sometime I would let her ride her bike to school alone.  Hmmmmm.  I don't think so.

When we got to the school I showed her where to put her bike and then I gave her hug and told her good-bye.  I wanted to watch her go inside so I stood next to my bike watching.  She turned around and waved and then walked backwards waving the whole time.  Just as she was getting to the door she started running back to me.  Did she need another hug?  Finally I heard her shout, "Just go, Mom!"  Oh, I guess it was time for me to leave and let her walk into school by herself.

I didn't want to ride bikes today.  I wanted to quickly take Emma to school and run my errands.  It was much more efficient that way.  However, today I discovered again that joy is rarely experienced while being efficient.  Joy comes unexpectedly and it's usually when I slow down and do something that takes a little more time.  It was nice being out in the sunshine with my girl.  It felt good to move my body and feel the wind on my face.  I felt a lift in my heart and I probably would have broken into song if my life was a musical.  Yes, joy takes time, but it's worth every extra minute.

The Happiest Day of Our Lives

August 11-16, 2014
Dear Family,

Cute Kindergarten Girl

Monday night Harold placed his hands on the heads of each of our children and gave them blessings. Each year we follow this same ritual. Serene faces, bowed heads, each child, youngest to oldest, waiting for their turn under the gentle touch of their father's hands. I don't know that any of them will remember what was said, but I think they'll remember the comfort of that blessing before they start this scary new school year in a new school.


I've been to some of the most sacred places on earth. I've stood atop Mt Sinai and watched the sun rise. I've spent quiet moments in the Garden of Gethsemene and the Garden Tomb. I've walked in a quiet grove where a young boy saw God the Father and Jesus Christ. But that night my home was as sacred a place as I have ever been. Sometimes it's hard to feel like this new house is home, but that night as we sat together and listened to these blessings it felt like home. We are beginning to make memories here. We are beginning to create space for the sacred here and it feels like we are home.

One afternoon, Emma and I were peeling and cutting peaches so we could make some hand pies for the kids after school. She stood next to me on a little stool cutting the peaches I'd peeled. “We're having the happiest day of our lives!” she exclaimed. It was true. It was the happiest day of our lives. This summer has not been Emma friendly. I've been so busy and preoccupied with moving that I haven't spent a lot of time with her. It was sweet to have the afternoon together, just the two of us.

The next day she was so excited and nervous about going to school. She had her outfit picked out and knew just how she wanted me to do her hair, two braids. When I took a picture of her in front of the house she asked if she could take one of me too. I did one happy and one sad. The true picture was the sad one. I thought I was going to be okay, but when I took her into the classroom I started to tear up. I nearly ran to the car so I wouldn't start blubbering in front of anyone. It's silly, I know, but it marks the end of such a beautiful, important part of my mothering life. I know good things lie ahead of me, opportunities I haven't had before, but it is another good bye, another ending for me and it hurt my heart. I suppose I should just relish these afternoons to myself and I'm sure I'll come to love them. But, for now I need to mourn a little that my babies have all moved on. The next day when I dropped her off she didn't want me to go into the school with her. I sat in the car and watched her walk to the door. She turned around and waved and blew kisses and then she was gone. Oh my, how can I bear it? I'm so grateful for this little girl. I'm so glad God let me have her. She is a blessing in my life.

A Fairy Picnic

Yesterday we had our last fairy picnic in the fairy meadow. We took our neighbor friends who had just gotten home from visiting cousins. To get to the meadow we cross a sheep bridge built across the Teton River. As I stepped off the bridge an old feeling from my childhood washed over me. It was a feeling of anticipation that some wonderful pretend was about to happen. I felt that way every time I imagined anything magical. I like to believe in fairies and pretend with my children. We spread our blankets under a big tree on the edge of the meadow. The younger kids ran immediately to the fairy tree, a big pine tree whose branches spread so wide and hang so low that they can hide and play underneath them. It was in that tree many years ago that Sarah and her friends found fairy treasure on her birthday. Everyone loves a fairy picnic. It's simple, just rounds of baguette, crackers, cheeses and meat. Fairy cakes finish it off, their just Ritz crackers sprayed with whip cream and heaped with berries. Silly, but fun.

 After we were done the children ran down to the river to build fairy houses. I almost wished we were camping so they could have spent all the time they wanted. The older kids were ready to go well before the younger ones were done. Emma had a total meltdown when I told her it was time to leave. She'd built one house, but was working on another that wasn't finished. I probably should have helped her more with the second one so she could have finished.

Building fairy houses

The finished product.  She's hoping her fairy friends love it.

These girls are such good friends.  They have so much fun together. 

I love this sign that one of the boys made.  It says FARY.

I caught McKay pretending something.  He'd just jumped off a log and was in his own little world.

These guys are best buddies.

Hiking Horeshoe

On Thursday we took a hike together up Horseshoe Canyon. Joshua built bridges up there last year with his forest service crew. Ever since then he's wanted to show us what they did. It was a hazy day, but a good one for hiking. I armed us with hard candies, snacks and water. I wasn't sure how far it would be and how the kids, especially the younger ones, would fare. They were all troopers.

 We stopped and had lunch at the first bridge and it wasn't much further to the second. It was so beautiful. The meadows were full of flowers and I especially loved walking through the dappled shade of the pine trees. It must have been quite a task to haul the lumber up that trail to build those bridges. Those were long boards! Josh seemed really proud of his work and I was glad that we could make the hike part of our final weeks activities.

 Emma had a hard time making it back to the car. She was tired and hot. We were way behind the rest of the kids, but we finally made it. She walked every step. I was so proud of her.