Nauvoo Temple

I love that this Temple was rebuilt after it was lost. For me (and for so many others I think, as well) after very traumatic events and the complete loss of what I understood to be "my life," it gives me great hope to see something so beautiful standing where not so many years ago there was just a grassy area and a protective fence. It is a symbol of renewal, of resurrection, of faith, vision and of love.

They rebuilt the Temple exactly as it once was (on the exterior). My life, as I rebuild, will look much different from the way it did before—more beautiful, stronger. I'm building with a very different perspective and understanding of myself this time around. I truly believe that I made the right choices the first time around, the same as I believe the Saints of Nauvoo did the right thing when they built and dedicated their Temple. The fact that it was destroyed doesn't for one minute negate the value it had for them or the struggles they labored through to build it. I'm glad that I knew the grassy hill, and I'm grateful for the beautiful House of God that stands there now; It is a monument to them, and a beacon to us. 

No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God… and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulations, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire and which will make us more like our Father and Mother in heaven.

Orson F. Whitney, in Spencer W. Kimball, Faith Precedes the Miracle (Salt Lake City: Deseret Book, 1972), 98.

All Gummed Up!

I found this on my other blog tonight. . . it's an old story (nearly 2 1/2 years) but it is so funny. I don't think I posted it here, and everybody needs a good laugh now and then—I know I do—so here you go:

The following will someday be part of a movie, I'm sure of it. Truth IS stranger than fiction after all. My son told me this story on the way home from my parents' house last night. I laughed so hard I thought I might need to pull off the road. Driving under the influence of laughter, not always a very safe proposition.

Last month, my Dad and two of my sons (ages 12 and 5) were up on my roof. There had recently been a torrential downpour which had caused some leaking. We only knew about it because there was moisture around a ceiling fan in our family room. This upset the 5 year old beyond words. (He is still quite concerned about it. More on that later.) For some reason, a few drops of water on the ceiling spelled certain destruction to him. (I can't, unfortunately, say that it spelled hunky dorry for me either but I hadn't thought of calling in the US Army Corps of Engineers yet.) The fan area is directly below an attic vent on the roof. All of us big people figured that was probably the source of the water and sure enough - it had been installed incorrectly. My Dad, being a very practical man and knowing that kids often learn best through observation, had taken two of my boys up on the roof with him to watch. The third must have been away because otherwise I'm sure he'd have been up there, too. As my Dad was laying a bead of caulk around the attic vent, his gum got a little stale and he decided to toss it over his shoulder. Q, my five year old must have been uncharacteristically quiet up until that point. He let out a wail and everyone turned quickly to see what was the matter. (They were up on the roof, you know.)

There he was, frozen in time with my Dad's discarded gum right between between his eyes. He did not understand what everyone seemed to find so funny and he continued to wail until the situation was rectified - which I'm sure was not nearly soon enough for him.

Where will you be five years from today?

The following is an excerpt from the book, Where will you be five years from today? It is an amazingly inspiring workbook style book published by Compendium Incorporated. (www.live-inspired.com) Turning the pages has been like harrowing the soil of my mind. . . a fantastic experience, and I haven't yet begun the "work". . . I've just been reading. The thing I like best is that I pretty much know what I want from the next five years of my life, and it's called, "Getting a Life." I'm going back to college for a BSN. That's big, and I figured it was going to take up all my time. After just one turn through this book, I realize that I need to grow in more than just the educational way. It would be like exercising only one arm. . . I need balance. I need to have goals in the other areas of my life at the same time. What I thought was going to be a tool to focus my goals, has actually turned out to be a tool to open my mind to broader possibilities. I'm really excited about it. I'm thrilled for the next five years.

Follow your dreams, they know the way.

If you don't have a dream,

how can you have a dream come true?

Your imagination is the preview to life's coming attractions.

—Albert Einstein

So, and okay. . .

Here are the areas that the books suggests we make goals:

Spiritual

Family

Career

Health

Financial

Education

Recreation

Charitable

Adventure

Travel

Romance

Relationships

Now with these areas in mind, go back and read those three little things right above them. Set your imagination free. . . and enjoy the little mini-vacation from 'now'.

A little later in the book, I found this:

It's never too late

or too early.

Right now is a good time.

life is now

That's true, isn't it. Life is NOW. We need to live now, and not put off our joys or our growth until it's more convenient. We all fill many roles and wear many hats. We have more responsibilities than we care to talk about openly with others. Our first job, however, is to see to ourselves: our health and sanity. When we are healthy and sane, we have so much more to give to others. When we are inspired, we can inspire those around us. We can lift others best when we are buoyant ourselves. . . So DREAM! I'm giving you permission! Go Ahead. Who do you want to be, at your core? What would you need to do to become her? If you don't know then think about it. If you DO know, then GO GET HER!

Slow

Down.

Calm

Down.

Don't

Worry.

Don't

Hurry.

Trust the

Process.

Alexandra Stoddard

Peace

Peace.

It does not mean to be in a place

where there is no noise, trouble

or hard work. It means to be in

the midst of those things and still

be calm in your heart.

(unknown)

Just as plants soak up water, your children need your loving words, and with them they will thrive. ~ Judy Ford

I know how it feels to lose Q. . .

I'm pretty calm, generally. I go through the challenges that greet me without too much fanfare most of the time. Generally, that 'way' of doing things makes getting through said challenges much easier. So, today, I took the kids to Lagoon. (For those not familiar with my area of the country, Lagoon is a local amusement park which has been around more than 100 years. It's the only game in town, and VERY crowded in the summer.) My sister was with me, along with two of her children and T's best friend also came along. I knew that one of the biggest issues I'd have was keeping Q, my seven year old son, close. He's, shall we say, easily distracted. I was 100% correct. We had to stop progress from 'here' to 'there' at least four times during the day because we realized that Quinn was no longer with us. The first couple of times, a little backtracking resolved the problem with relative ease. . . in fact I'm not even sure HE knew that he was lost when we found him. When he is walking he looks EVERYWHERE, except at the people he's walking with. He's intrigued by things and wants to know. I know this though, right? So we just took stock consistently and most of the time we were good.
Now, within Lagoon, there is a Water Park known as 'Lagoon-A-Beach'. Very nice way to escape the horrible heat of the day. It was supposed to hit 100 today, and we were prepared. When that heat came on. . . we went to the water. We weren't the only smarties at the park though - it was near capacity and jammed like no other area. There were walkways in and around the people, but only just barely. We wandered for a bit until we found a fantastic, shady spot where a family was just about to leave behind three lounge chairs. It was Heaven. . . until I realized that Q had NOT made it there with us. I headed out on the hunt. I was stressed, this time. I am largely unfamiliar with the water park there. People everywhere, lounging, walking, busy - no one really worried about lost children. I knew the employees might care though so I asked, and was directed to the first aid area, not too far away. I started to talk to the man inside the room. It took him a moment to understand what I was saying. In the time it took to arouse his interest, and at the point where I was about to describe my son to him, Q walked by outside. Looking at me, Q's little face lit with relief. I excused myself with a quick, "That's him, " and grabbed him around the shoulders as quickly as I could. I asked him if he had been afraid. He said that he had been but that a little whisper told him "Go that way." Thank Heaven I was 'down that way' and not running frantically all over the place. Someone Somewhere knew I'd go with my gut—to look for help— and they told my boy. I get the feeling that helping my son to hear and recognize that voice as his friend could be very important in his life.

Just so you know, that's NOT when I knew how it felt to lose Q.

We had yet another incident of fairly easily rectified dalliance. He was glad to be once again scooped up and saved from himself, but only slightly shaken. . . and I should have known.

We were all ready to go. We had some final treats in hand. The older boys needed to get their tickets validated and headed off in that direction. My middle children followed happily, and I expected to be right on their heels. The last of the treats, however, made a HUGE mess on the counter before I could even pick it up. It got on my keys, and and anything within about 6 inches of it. The young man apologetically helped me to clean it up. When I finally got everything I needed, without the extra-sticky coating, I started to walk to where I knew they'd be waiting. A was the only one who had stayed with me. The sun had set and it was getting very dark. I recognized as I was walking, how different the park was at night. Lower visibility, lights flashing everywhere. Even though we had been there all day, and we had become fairly familiar with things, it was all different now. When I arrived, everyone was relaxing and waiting. . . I took stock. "Where's Q?" Heads darted in every direction. T and his best friend took off immediately. I got the C settled with the girls in a well lit spot near the main crossroads of the park and headed out to look myself. This time, however, I WAS frantic. The thought of Q trying to find his way around in the dark was overwhelming to me. I went to every place that we'd been in the previous 10 minutes. Every place he'd shown obvious interest in. I talked to the employees along the way, describing him. No one had seen him. I saw T running a couple of times along the way as well. My heart was melting. I had looked for him so many times already that day. His little image and my relief at "seeing" it again so many times, was burned on my mind. I knew I needed help. I stopped a Security employee of the park and he was quick to spread the word. I described my son to him. "He is seven years old. He is wearing a Turquoise shirt with white stripes. He has on navy blue shorts. He has dark hair. When he walks, he looks at everything. He doesn't pay much attention to where he's going." The young man asked if I knew where the security office was, and said that I should check there in about 20 minutes. That seemed like SO long.

I was panicking. My heart was breaking wide open, as I contemplated the possibility that those clothes I had 'found' him in time after time today might be the last things I'd ever see him wear. I went once again on the loop that I had made previously, hoping that he'd go back to one of those spots to look for me. It hadn't been nearly the twenty minutes originally estimated, but even so, I KNEW what an eternity without Q would feel like and it was devastating. Finally, without success, I felt I should return to where C and the girls were waiting for me, and I did. As I came around the corner, my hope was that he would be sitting there with them as though nothing had happened. I was not soothed, however. He was not there. I didn't want to upset the other children, and did my best not to show them how worried I was. It was a fairly futile effort however. They knew it was serious.
Then, just as I was about to break into sobs of grief, those tears turned miraculously to joy. A tall young man in a light blue Lagoon polo shirt and khaki pants rounded the corner with his arm draped around the shoulders of a small dark-haired boy. Dressed in a striped turquoise shirt. Wearing navy blue shorts. This time however, that little boy's eyes were riveted to me. He started to cry, as did I. I ran to him and threw my arms around him . . one more time. We cried and cried. It seemed like ages. I looked gratefully at the young man, and thanked him. He commented that my description of him had been absolutely perfect. "It should be," I said. "He's my son."
I'm grateful to know a loving Father in Heaven loves me no less than I love this little child. He loves me, each of us, so much more even that I can imagine. Love is the reason I believe so firmly in God. I know that Someone Somewhere understands.

Longing

I went back in my journals to March 2008, and found this gem. It couldn't be more true today.

I'm so grateful to have kept good journals. Most surprising to me? I had NOT already posted this in my blog! Really? So, here you go. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

Life is full of longing. I’ve heard so many people say this in different ways. Leaning to live in the moment, I think, is much more than just eschewing consequences. We want things to happen quickly. We don’t want some things to happen at all. If we have to endure those things, we can’t just wait until they are “over.” I don’t think that it’s ever really over. I think that no matter what is happening in life, we could be wishing that there was some magic pill that could instantly transport us to an easier place, where life will fall into it’s “correct” rhythm and THEN we would be happy. If we could just get such and such accomplished, we would be satisfied. Whether we realize it or not, most of us quickly pass by almost without acknowledging those things when they DO happen. We find some other reason not to be happy.That is the longing I’m talking about.

I hope that I am able to make the very most out of those threshold moments in my life as the years ahead pass by. I want to be happy now, and not wait until some big event comes along. I think that, in not putting off my happiness, I will be able to truly savor and cherish the good things to come. I don’t want to rush through anything just to get to the next thing. I know that there are going to be so many challenges. I want to take each day with courage and live deliberately. I think it’s really the only way to live. I think that living any other way isn’t really living, it's actually putting off living your life until some future time which you will never allow to come. I don’t want that. I want to be alive, now. I want to live my life with purpose and do things for good reasons. I want to be able to look back and say, “I learned this.” or “I’m different now because. . .” and build each day on the choices of yesterday, and do it happily.

Black Bean Pineapple Enchiladas

This is a departure from my regular posts, but I think it's a great recipe, and worth sharing. It always hits the spot with my family, maybe yours will like it too! Ü

Three Boneless Skinless Chicken Breasts
One large Sweet Pepper (any color will be equally delicious)
One 20 oz can Pineapple (crushed or tidbits)
One 14 oz can Black Beans
One package Flour Tortillas
One can Cream of Chicken Soup
One small container Sour Cream (non-fat is fine)
Favorite cheese to grate over the top


Filling:
In a large skillet or sauce pan:
In Olive Oil, Brown three chicken breasts over medium heat. Dice and add back to the pan.
Add to the pan:
Diced Pepper
Drained Black Beans
Drained Pineapple. (Drink the juice. . .yum.)
Simmer until Chicken is cooked through.

Topping:
Mix together can of cream of chicken soup and desired amount of sour cream until smooth.

In a large rectangular glass pan, fill and roll tortillas. Place side by side until pan is full. Spread topping over the enchiladas, and top with a thin layer of your favorite cheese. Cover with Tin foil and Bake at 375 for half an hour, or until completely warmed.

Children often want seconds. Ü

This recipe is equally successful with canned chicken breast or freshly cooked chicken. If you would like to use canned, use two 12 oz cans.

A woman's heart should be so lost in God that a man needs to seek Him so he can find her.

Lunchboxes

I’ve decided that lunch boxes kind of define my life.

At first glance, they appear to be a never-ending routine of work. You fill them, they complain about what is in them, they partially empty them, you clean them out and then you fill them….again and again it goes. Not only do they need work to fill, you have a lot of prep work to get them ready to be filled. There is bread to make, groceries to buy and fruits and veggies to wash. There is guilt and worry involved as well: is this food good enough, healthy enough, non-processed enough? Will the other children/mothers/teachers think these lunches are good enough? Will the kids open their lunch and think of a loving mother or will the whole kit-n-caboodle get trashed immediately leaving my child begging for food, looking as if no one loved them?
If the first glance were accurate, I would have quit a long time ago, but luckily, upon further inspection, I see how valuable they are. I think of my mom and all the lunches she prepared for me and how we used to go through a loaf of bread EVERY day. But now she doesn’t have any lunchboxes left to fill. They go away you see…..they are not always there needing you to fill them. And if you worked hard and put up with the tireless routine, you look back on those lunchboxes with real joy. They represent true love and a stewardship given by a loving, trusting Heavenly Father. They represent enduring love, selflessness and what CAN be.

So you see, lunch boxes do define my life….what it is, what it looks like on the outsides verses what it feels like on the inside and what I hope it can be.

Hope....the real gift from Christmas

It was a harried morning getting ready for church on Christmas day. Friday is when we have church in Egypt.....so, after reading the story of Christ's birth, opening gifts and the kids eating a lot of sugar, we were running late (not too surprising!). My husband was at a meeting and I was getting everyone ready. I felt like I wasn't connected to the "real" Christmas feelings that I wanted at all. We raced out the door and hustled to church, with me urging the children to walk faster the whole way. As we entered the villa, which is our church house here, and sat down in the front row, I was frustrated and tired. As I calmed my mind down and started to pray, my eye caught the sacrament table and the true joy of what Christmas is truly about settled over my soul. I was filled with the HOPE that Christ offers to all of us "weary travelers" on Earth. I realized then that I had recieved the best gift that day....the gift of true hope from our loving Savior, Jesus Christ.

The Best Gift

One thing I have always loved to write is church talks. I don't even give them in church. I just write them. Richard G. Scott once called this type of thing..storing up treasures of knowledge. Writing down the sacred things I've learned helps me to organize the thoughts and principles of the gospel in a way that is more concrete than just thinking about them in my head. I like to keep them in a special journal, saving them for a future date to give to my children. They're my own little "Plates of Brass". I write those sacred things in the hopes that someday they will be of value to my children. I believe it helps me in my secular writing endeavors as well. Being able to record things in a meaningful way helps me to put more heart into my other writing, and it helps me learn to touch and inspire others with my writing at a deeper level.

Someday I will pass these treasures of knowledge on to my children. And I believe it will be the most important writing I've ever done.

My Precious Gift

My life is a precious gift to me. But the gift of my family transcends all else. It is a sacred gift for which I give thanks with every breath I take. Important to me also, is my testimony. J. Reuban Clark, Jr. said, "A testimony is a sacred gift. It is not a matter to be boasted about; it is a matter in the greatest humility; to be used whenever the cause of the Lord requires it to be used, to be cherished, nurtured, fed by righteous living." A testimony of the gospel is an anchor to the soul in the midst of confusion and strife. When a person dies, their own life will be not only their eulogy but also their testimony. When we stand before the judgment bar we will be judged by what we are and that will be the sum total of what we have thought and said and done. It is obvious then that if we do things that are inconsistent with what we say, we will lose the blessings which might be earned by living a testimony.

Before Joan of Arc, the nineteen-year-old French peasant was to be burned alive, she was given a chance to retain her liberty by denying her faith. In choosing the fire above her freedom, she said:

THE WORLD CAN USE THESE WORDS I KNOW THIS NOW. EVERY MAN GIVES HIS LIFE FOR WHAT HE BELIEVES; EVERY WOMAN GIVES HER LIFE FOR WHAT SHE BELIEVES. SOMETIMES PEOPLE BELIEVE IN LITTLE OR NOTHING, AND YET THEY GIVE THEIR LIVES TO THAT LITTLE OR NOTHING. ONE LIFE IS ALL WE HAVE, AND WE LIVE IT AS WE BELIEVE IN LIVING IT, AND THEN IT'S GONE. BUT TO SURRENDER WHAT YOU ARE AND LIVE WITHOUT BELIEF IS MORE TERRIBLE THAN DYING, EVEN MORE TERRIBLE THAN DYING YOUNG.

We could say that this great person was an example of being, not seeming. She had a testimony that the cause she was fighting for was one worth defending. It is only as we take some active part in defending what we believe, or living up to our standards, that we will gain a truthfulness or testimony to the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Finishing the Book of Mormon again Today

Moroni 10:23

And Christ truly said unto our fathers: If ye have faith ye can do all things which are expedient unto me.

To me, this is a very sweet verse. Everything Christ needs me to do, my faith will enable me to do through Him. The other things I will learn from and grow through, and that may be the only purpose of those experiences. When it is expedient unto Him, I will suceed. That's all I need to know.

Why do we go to Chruch?

Moroni 6: 5-6

5 And the ^achurch did meet together ^boft, to ^cfast and to pray, and to speak one with another concerning the welfare of their souls.

6 And they did ^ameet together oft to partake of bread and wine, in ^bremembrance of the Lord Jesus.

How long have I been reading the Book of Mormon and honestly, this is the first time I've seen this scripture - Yes we go to fast and pray together, and to take the Sacrament. But we also go "to speak one with another concerning the welfare of our souls." How wonderful is that? That is exactly what happens in LDS meetings - we don't just sit and listen to a lecture and go home. Sunday School and Auxiliary Meetings provide opportunities for us to share with each other, to be sounding boards, to say to one another "You're being to hard on yourself", or "It's going to be okay." I just love the scriptures, and how they say new things every time I read them.

On Raising Children

Two years ago, I was at a crossroads in my life. I was at the end of a beloved phase of my life, that of being at home full-time with my children. With my divorce came the necessity of working away from my home, and thankfully, my parents have been able to care for my children when I'm away. This morning I was opening my journal to write a bit about the week and opened an old journal instead, accidently. This is what I read.

I found a quote the other day on Ali Edwards' blog that seems to say what I'm can't.
Dawna Markova : I will not die an unlived life. I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire. I choose to inhabit my days, to allow my living to open me, to make me less afraid, more accessible, to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise. I choose to risk my significance; to live so that which comes to me as seed goes to the next as blossom and that which comes to me as blossom, goes on as fruit.

Why waste a day worrying when there is so much that can be done to improve it? We have rules, and I reiterate the rules. I know that they are going to test the rules. It is the nature of curious children to test the rules. I try not to worry about messes that the kids will make either, because I know that the messes are going to happen. Sometimes BIG ones. Sometimes sticky ones. Often while in the process of breaking rules. There is almost no limit to the amount of imagination a child can transpose into mess form. Clean, happens - its true - but you can always be quite sure that mess is not far behind. Why worry?

I try to keep them safe. It's hard to improve on whole, healthy, intact bodies. I teach them not to fight, because angry voices destroy the peace we want in our home. Often enough, however, even these basic functions of motherhood find themselves thwarted. Sometimes, there is blood. Sometimes we need a stitch or two. Sometimes all you can hear is angry voices. This is the reason that some people have nannies. I take time when I need it, to talk to friends or relax. I do have to suffer through the craziness, but I'm also the one that gets all the good stuff. I watch it all happen, all day long, every day. No one can tell me that missing out on Q's tirades would be worth it. When I hear from those same little lips, a very sweet little voice saying, "I love you so much, Mommy. You're the best!" I know simultaneously what that voice is capable of and it melts me into a lump. You have to taste the bitter to know the sweet. You have to know the mess to appreciate the clean. You have to hear a lot of noise to truly savor a quiet moment.

Atonement

How fitting that we contemplate atoning Jesus – bending and curved in Gethsemane. His bleeding curvature transformed the grammar of death. Until Gethsemane and Calvary, death was a punctuating, rigid exclamation point. Then death, too, curved – into a mere comma...

Neal A. Maxwell

The Most Wonderful Gift.

In life, I don't think that there is any greater gift than of loving and being loved. I think that is exactly what the Savior is trying to tell us when he admonishes us to love one another as He has loved us. He wants us to understand the truth, that love is the greatest blessing and gift available to mankind.

There is no limit to the amount of love we can give - think about that. If we truly WANT to love others, we will find ways to love them even in difficult circumstances. It doesn't mean that we put ourselves at risk, just that we are willing to care and give without concern for what our gift will bring to us in return.

Not everyone accepts or wants the Savior's love. Many will refuse our love, too. Often we will find that those most in need of our love will openly attack or try to hurt us. They want to see how deep our love goes. I've seen this in children from time to time. When children are hurting, at times they lash out - often at the people they need most. It isn't an excuse to walk away - it is an opportunity to prove yourself steadfast. My children have been through a lot in the last year. When they are worried, they will often respond angrily - and the best medicine for that has simply been to gather them up in my arms and melt them with love. It has brought many a sweet moment to me which might otherwise been lost in power struggles.

Love isn't controlling or demanding. Love is patient and kind. Love is honest, true and chaste. Love is a very very beautiful way to live.