Easter Countdown - Day 8

He really does live. Again.

Easter Countdown - Day 7

Easter Countdown - Day 6

Easter Countdown - Day 5

Easter Countdown - Day 4

Easter Countdown - Day 3

Easter Countdown - Day 1

Sunday, a palm leaf - Mark 11: 7-10

Easter countdown

One of my favorite things about blogging is how inspired I am by all of YOU. For some time now I've been pondering how to make Easter more meaningful. Inspired by Jocelyn and Janae, I'm joining them in an Easter countdown.

Janae had found these awesome hollow wooden eggs last year, and I basically fell in love. My mom and I painted all last week to turn them into true treasures. I'm sure they'll get beat up and nicked as the years go by, but I know they'll turn into priceless heirlooms just the same. I have visions of presenting hand painted Easter Countdown eggs to my sons when they get married.

We plan on having a little devotional every morning this week. First we'll sing the Primary Song, "He Sent His Son" and then open the egg. Read the enclosed scripture and talk about what it means to you. Personal application is the key.

I also got a couple Easter books to read throughout the week. I hope to add to my Easter library every year!

I started with these two:

May the Easter spirit be with each of you this week, as we celebrate the best news the earth has ever received -

He is risen!

In which I will be shocked if anyone actually reads this whole thing, but I'm writing it anyway because it's cathartic

Instead of writing a presentation for my 5Pillars class last Tuesday like I'd planned, I organized my closet. 

Really down 'n deep cleaning, too. I went through my pajama drawer and threw away a bunch of ratty t-shirts and found some extra sports bras that I forgot I bought. They're pink.

The top of my dresser was next. It was one big jumble of Legos. Safety pins. T-pins. Coins. Love letters. Pictures, pictures, and more pictures.  A map of the Phoenix zoo. Clothes tags. Several pens. Receipts. Puzzle pieces. And quite a few old grocery lists. 

Basically my life in a 1x2 foot nutshell.

I moved on to the shelving. Pulled out all the winter clothes and folded them neatly into their bins. Made piles for Goodwill and several friends. Organized my shoes, and even threw out a couple pairs - one of them was broken beyond repair anyway. (I miss them already.)

On to the hanging clothes! I ordered everything. Lingerie, dresses, skirts, shorts, pants, tops. I found at least twenty empty hangers. There were several winter and maternity items still lurking between clothes - they got put away accordingly. 

When I was done, I sat on the floor and beamed up at the beauty surrounding me for at least ten minutes. 

Order. 

D&C 88: 119 is well known: Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing; and establish a house, even a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learning, a house of glory, a house of order, a house of God.

Order has never been easy for me. I've always been a "throw it in that pile for a later day" kind of girl, and Later Day never arrived. My slovenly habits only worsened in college.

Of course, I've always been quite good at the whole facade thing. The front room - now that I can keep presentable. But open a drawer - a cupboard - a door? Chaos. 

And one day, I just got sick of it. 

I'd say it started about a year ago, right before the NBC was born. I assumed it was the normal (and short-lived!) "nesting instinct." I organized the junk drawer, catalogued the pantry, scrubbed out the bathroom cupboards and lined up the shampoo bottles by height. 

But then - I didn't stop. 

My organizational urge kicked up a notch a couple months ago. Papers are filed right away - instead of left in a pile by the phone. Magazines, once read, went straight to recycling - instead of junking up the space next to the computer. And - wonders!  - the Band-Aid wrappers were thrown away as soon as the Band-Aid was put on. 

I know!

For some of you, this "put it away, right away" response may be reflex already. For me, it has had to be learned.  Very, very   s  l  o  w  l  y.

I do not pretend to be an organizational expert. (I totally got stuck on orgjunkie.com the other day. It sucks you in, man. So many pretty baskets .....) But I have learned some things.

 

First step: decide what's important to you. Do baseboards drive you crazy? Do you like your clothes crisp and well-ironed? Or are you perhaps someone who needs their windows crystal clear at all times? 

(I am none of these things, bytheway.)

Divide your "important" list into three priorities - daily, weekly, or monthly. You can even have a bimonthly or semiannual list - whatever floats your yacht.

Next, WRITE IT DOWN. I have all my cleaning chores written on 3x5 cards. They are organized and divided in a little tupperware container that used to hold deli ham. I just pull them out on the corresponding day and do what it says.

For me, this is what my mornings look like:

• 5:00AM The alarm. I wake up. I head to Maria's and we sweat it out and laugh it up.
• 6:15. Home. Scripture study. Prayer. Spiritual rejuvenation.
• 6:45. Shower. Get dressed - to the shoes and earrings! Feel awesome. 
• 7:15 Kids usually up - start breakfast, get 'em dressed, make beds and brush teeth.
• 7:30 Empty dishwasher. I am a firm believer that happiness is directly related to a clean sink.
• 7:30 - 8:30. Alternately be with kids and:
• Clean up breakfast. (Which includes sweeping.)
• Make lunch.
• Wipe down kitchen counters, stove, microwave, fridge, as needed.
• Wipe down bathroom counters and toilet. Teeth brushing is amazingly messy.
•  8:30 Kid scriptures and prayer. Morning bike ride as we take Little Prince to school. Shut the door behind me knowing the house is clean. 

Mondays are laundry, grocery shopping, and "recover from Sunday" days. No play dates, no visits, no responsibilities. Just me and the kids. And laundry.

Wednesdays I do a "quick dusting" with my feather duster. I always feel like I need red lipstick and heels when I use that thing. 

Fridays are the bathrooms. I can clean all of them in an hour, if I do it during nap time. I also wash sheets and towels.

Saturdays are vacuuming,  furniture polishing, and "extra chores."

Extra chores are as follows:

First Saturday - Spot the family room/kitchen walls. Dust fans. Clean inside of fridge.

Second Saturday -  Windowsills. Spot living room walls. Dust plants.

Third Saturday - all the wainscoting woodwork in the living room.

Fourth Saturday - Spot hallway/bathroom walls. Behind and under living room couch. On top of fridge. Inside stove.

Fifth Saturday and/or combined with Fourth - clean pantry and/or laundry room as needed. 

The kids alternate between scrubbing tubs, windexing the windows and back door, watering plants, and vacuuming the stairs. They are also responsible for keeping their rooms and the basement clean. They pride themselves on their work. If you ever visit my house, please compliment the stairs.

Second tip - find a place for everything.

I have found that most of my junky places (the counter next to the phone, the computer desk, and the top of the dresser) are filled with items I don't know what to do with. Decide NOW where everything goes. Then stick to it.

Third tip - Proactivity.

Our family cleanliness motto is "put it away, right away!" If you see a wrapper, put it in the trash. If there's a spot on the floor, clean it. If the lightbulb needs changing, change it. Soon doing it "right away" becomes second nature. (It took me about four months.) The more you put it off, the more you agonize over it, the more difficult it will be come! 

Fourth tip - Maintenance is the easiest path.

After every meal, we wipe down the table, chairs, and all kitchen surfaces.  This includes the microwave, stove, and fridge. These are excellent areas for kids to be in charge of.  Spot mopping the kitchen floor is also a daily chore. Daily maintenance is a thousand times easier than less frequent germ annihilations. 

The final tip - patience.

 I've learned that organization and cleanliness is a process. We strive for a "manner" of organization -  not a "state." At this very moment, the inside of my kitchen appliance cupboard is covered with toaster crumbs and a mysterious black sticky goo that I think used to be hot chocolate. My sewing supplies are all in a jumble, and opening the closet on the back patio may be hazardous to your health. 

That's okay.

The point is, you will never be done organizing. You will never have a home that is perfectly clean. Because you live in that house. You're creating life in that house. That house is a living, breathing friend of yours, dynamic, cultivating personalities and enriching relationships. 

Now.

As I put my house in order - my physical surroundings - it is inevitable that my thoughts turn inward. Cleanliness is a habit. And it doesn't just apply to our address.

In the  process of expunging my home, I can feel myself mentally sweep up the piles of information in my head. Put that piece of juicy gossip back on the shelf where I found it. Dump that unkind thought in the trash. Vacuum up frustration. Dust away anger. Get down on my knees and scrub out the impatience.

First tip -  Plan. Prioritize what it important to you, spiritually. What virtues are most dear to you? What are you doing to work on them? Decide on a plan to develop those characteristics and write it down.

• 6:45AM Personal scriptures
• 8:30AM Kid scriptures
• 12:00PM Read Ensign over lunch
• 5:00PM Listen to general conference as I make dinner
• 6:30PM Family scriptures and prayer
• 10:00PM Couple prayer

Go to the temple. Weekly date night. Read the Relief Society lesson. Take the sacrament. Serve. Love. Repeat.

These daily - weekly - monthly rituals keep us focused and fresh. Within them peace can be found.

Second tip - find a place for everything. This is something I'm still working on.

Designate a "temple spot" in your house. Keep this area sacred to you. This is where you go for personal ponder and prayer. You may want to keep a picture of the Savior and/or temple there. Tell your children that this is your temple spot - please whisper when passing by. Even when everyone else has the flu and the entire house is a wreck, make sure your temple spot stays clean.

Third tip - proactivity.

Decide - now! - to just plain do what we're supposed to do. Don't participate in that gossip circle. Flee from tempting internet time suckers. Put down the book that introduces unclean thoughts. Be proactive about your mind and spirit.

Fourth tip - Maintenance is the easiest path.

Scriptures, prayer, Family Home evening, temple attendance. They're so easy a Sunbeam knows that those four things are the answer to virtually every question. But that's because it's RIGHT. We feel good when we do the right thing. So why not keep doing it?

And finally - patience.

We're going to mess up. The best of intentions are ruined by the most human of happenings. Just like your daily cleaning ritual may be interrupted by a particularly clingy two-year-old, your attempts at Christlike patience may be disturbed by the same source. That's okay. Loosen up. Be flexible. Don't get down on yourself for not being the perfect wife or perfect mother or perfect woman. Heavenly Father knew what he was doing when he entrusted us with a bunch of little kids. The Atonement is for them, too - to fix all the wrong things we do to them! It's okay. Loosen up. Have patience with yourself and trust to the Lord to sanctify your efforts.

'Domestic goddess' has become a catch-phrase of today's society, but isn't that truly what we are? Goddesses-in-training? And what better way to learn to be divine than in our own little kingdoms here on earth.

And right now, in my closet? It feels absolutely celestial.

In which I bombed my homework

For my class this week, I was supposed to write a persuasion paper.

I didn't.

***********

Further In and Higher Up

                 Experience. Check. Think. Check. Speak. Double check. Read - narrate - create - journal.  Check check check check.

                Writing is easy, right?  Gene Fowler says, "all you do is sit staring at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead." 

                Sarah suggests we work on persuading this time around. Okay. Let's do it. Don't forget the logos - throw in pathos for fun. Include reason, personal experience, revelation, historical evidence, and a kidney just to be sure. If you want to be really cool, add some research - then you're at the top of the pile. Achievement. Success. Confidence.

                Bull.

                Somewhere in my 5Pillars journey, I decided that I disagree with the Writing Cycle. I'd rather rechristen it the Writing Fork. I don't have a problem until step six - Creation. From there, we're told to progress to journals/stories, then idea or opinion papers, moving on to persuasive essays, then climax with research. 

                That is one path, sure. It's a great path - a fabulous path. But my goal in life is not to research - it's to change my very nature. The 5Pillar course, after all, is so much more than a simple 'book club.' The mere  expression is somehow patronizing. It should be termed the Soul Searching Course or Self-Discovery Club or Introspective Wives United - except those sound a little deep for casual conversation. 

                Research papers may stretch us mentally - but I would rather stretch myself emotionally. Spiritually. Because that's why I'm taking this course. To research-paper myself. 

                My favorite book in the Narnia series is the last one - The Last Battle. "Further in and higher up!" cries Roonwit, urging the crowd to plunge deeper into Narnia's beauties. That phrase has been repeating itself in my mind for some time. Further in. Who am I really? Higher up. What motivates me? Further in. What do I want out of life? Higher up. How am I going to work to get it? 

                It's as if I'm in the center of a great ruminative cyclone. Ponderings - goals - convictions - quotes - swirl around me like so many pages in a book. I am in the middle of it all, trying to inhale the gusts deeply without gasping. It's hard. Further in and higher up.

                I feel as if everything is coming together for me. The Great Pangea of Me, slowly puzzling itself together, trying a piece there, seeing if it fits there. I am on the edge of a vast plain, inching my toes over the edge, daring myself to jump. The cavern is wide. It is deep. It is good. And I'm almost there. On the brink of some massive discovery - my arms groping for some surety before I take the first step over. Further in and higher up.

                This I know. I want to change. I feel that I have so much healing to do, habits to change. Habits - I'm sure - that are several millenia in the making.  But I seem to have finally breached the stubborn obstinacy that kept my "I wish I were ..." list, just a wish. Some crucial, inherent wall has crumbled, allowing me to cross the bridge from wanting to being. 

                I don't want to wait to become the person I want to be. 

                I'm ready to be that person. Now. 

                Further in and higher up.

                 I want to allow the spirit to guide my life in such a way that His whispers become reflexes. I want to build a celestial marriage. I want to thrive on my children's laughter. I want to be 'more fit for the kingdom.'  I want to be healthy. I want to keep my house in order. And I want my very being to shy away from anything that would cause my children pain - like losing my patience (did I know where it was in the first place?), yelling, scolding, and all those other -ings that paint the dark side of motherhood. 

                And as I reach inward - I can't help but strive upward. 

                Because I am divine. And the further in I explore my inherited celestial princess-ness, the closer I will become to the King. 

                Further in. Higher up I go.

In which science stinks

Kay, so have you heard about the hulabaloo over the NEW astrological signs?Apparently the moon's gravitational pull, blah blah blah, things have moved, yadda yadda, and they've decided to change everything around. Read your (possibly) new sign here.

I am now a Gemini. And up til now I've been a Cancer. 

I mean, really folks, this changes everything. Now I have " the ability to communicate effectively and think clearly" where before I was marked by "the tenacity with which I protect my loved ones."  I'm confused. I used to be a crab. Now I'm a twin. I used to be water. Now I'm air. Is pearl still my birthstone, ya think? Cuz I really have a thing for pearls.

Although I used to not be compatible with Leo, which is what My Man is, and now I am (since he's still a Leo.) So OBVIOUSLY they've finally gotten the whole astrology thing straightened out.

It just kills me how often SCIENCE changes its mind. Pluto's a planet. Then it isn't. Caffeine is good for you. Then it isn't. Your lucky number is 13. No, it's 8, sorry.

Isn't it nice to know that God never changes? That He really is truth and light? That science - even if they've PROVED we're descended from apes - just can't catch up with the Lord Almighty?

He is infinite. He is eternal. And I am so compatible with My Man.

In which I celebrate the holiday in my own way

There are seventeen definitions of "labor" in the dictionary. I'm pretty sure I've experienced all of them. Except for maybe #13.

to roll or pitch heavily, as a ship.

Not much of a sailor, myself. Although I do roll and pitch heavily when I do Pilates.

Today I'm going to be talking about my life's labor. Specifically, these guys.


I went through some major labor to get them here (definitions 6, 7 and 12), and they definitely qualify for #4's "physical or mental work, esp. of a hard or fatiguing kind." Emphasize hard and fatiguing. And yet .... Why doesn't it mention the rewards? Why doesn't it mention the surge of love that overwhelms you when you first look into their eyes?

Why doesn't it mention the inescapable desire to kiss every wrinkle, bury yourself in every fold? Why doesn't it mention the way your heart bursts when your children love on each other?
Why doesn't it mention the pride that fills every ventricle, pours through every vein - whether they're rolling, crawling, eating their first cereal or acing their first spelling test?

Why doesn't it mention how fun it is to play - really play! - with your children? Pirates and cars and dragons and cowboys and monsters and anything their limitless imagination dreams up next.



Why doesn't it mention the sentimentality of reading your favorite book to your child - and finding that they love it too?

Why doesn't it mention the awe you feel in creating this amazing little person who you actually enjoy being around?


The Family: A Proclamation to the World declares:

The first commandment that God gave to Adam and Eve pertained to their potential for parenthood as husband and wife. We declare that God's commandment for His children to multiply and replenish the earth remains in force.

Husband and wife have a solemn responsibility to love and care for each other and for their children. "Children are an heritage of the Lord" (Psalms 127:3). Parents have a sacred duty to rear their children in love and righteousness, to provide for their physical and spiritual needs, to teach them to love and serve one another, to observe the commandments of God and to be law-abiding citizens wherever they live. Husbands and wives—mothers and fathers—will be held accountable before God for the discharge of these obligations.

Happy Labor Day, everybody. The very best labor of all.

Don't forget to check out We Talk of Christ all month long to celebrate the Proclamation!

My recipe

I have a really good cookie recipe. I've blogged about it before.

Whenever I make these cookies for someone, they request the recipe. Without fail. And because I'm nice like that, I give it to them.

But I've never had somebody say, "Gee, you know, I don't agree with butter. So I'm not going to put that in." Because seriously. The cookies will not turn out unless you have butter.

Duh.

And yet I get it in other respects all the time.

When I tell people how I get my babies to sleep by themselves - or later, to stay in their rooms - I get, "Nah, I don't agree. It must be something else."

When people ask how I've lost so much weight, and I tell them about waking up at 5:30 in the morning every freaking day to exercise, and eating really healthy and staying away from sweets and snacks, it's, "Nah, that's not it, you must have really good genes."

...

And when someone wants to know why I'm so happy, and I tell them it's because I've found the truth, they don't believe me.

I still have trials. I still have problems. I still have down days and I've had my share of depression. But I'm able to withstand them. I'm better because of it.

I'm not talking about the fleeting happiness that chocolate brings (though it does bring that.) I'm talking about the deep-down peace and joy that truth brings. And that's as easy as this-recipe-equals-good-cookies.

I know Christ is truly the son of God. I know He came to this earth, and taught us how to live. I know that prophets on various continents recorded His visits and teachings. I know that through those prophets' words, we can come to know Him, too. And I know that by knowing Him, we can be happy. Really, truly, happy. Happy in spite of our trials, and perhaps because of them.

I know that we still have prophets today. I know this because I've asked Him. I know this because my spirit recognizes truth. I know this because I've prayed to know for myself if the teachings of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are true. And they are. And it is. I know it.

And that's why I'm happy.

I'm going to reread this approximately 247247245 times

Because I want to be VERY careful not to ruffle any feathers.

Okay. So.

Preface: The parents in my church ward have varying takes on education. I'd say roughly 40% choose to send their children to public schools. The remaining 60% are split pretty evenly between charter schools and home schooling.

Alright. Now let's discuss why I'm discussing this.

As we all know, I'm doing this 'surviving summer' thing. Lots of activities, crafts, and outings with my kids. Lots of education and teaching and, most of all, having fun.

I'm feelin' good. I'm feelin' like I'm finally getting this mom thing. And I'm feelin' like I'm doing a good job.

But I can't tell you how many people tell me (in one breath), "You're such a good mom - you should home school - why don't you already?"

LOTS of people.

I guess I just don't like the implication that all good moms home school - and that all home schoolers are good moms. To me, they're mutually exclusive.

I know lots of home schooling moms that are amazing - absolutely wonderful mothers. Role models, and all that the word implies. They do a fantastic job home schooling their children, and their kids are the better for it. And yet I know lots of home schooling moms that are - ahem - awful. And their kids suffer.

But that goes the same for public/charter school moms too - some are great, some not so much.

(So really - women are just women no matter where their kids learn their ABCs.)

I think the whole childhood education decision is very personal - there isn't one right answer for everyone. Every child (and mother) is different, and should be treated accordingly.

Basically, I don't like being judged. Like I can't be a good mom unless I home school. Like only moms that home school are good.

I believe very strongly that mothers are primarily responsible for the nurture of their children. (This doesn't exclude dads - but moms are essentially The Buck.)

Elder Perry put it this way in last General Conference:

Teaching in the home is becoming increasingly important in today’s world, where the influence of the adversary is so widespread and he is attacking, attempting to erode and destroy the very foundation of our society, even the family. Parents must resolve that teaching in the home is a most sacred and important responsibility. While other institutions, such as church and school, can assist parents to “train up a child in the way he [or she] should go” (Proverbs 22:6), ultimately this responsibility rests with parents. According to the great plan of happiness, it is parents who are entrusted with the care and development of our Heavenly Father’s children. Our families are an integral part of His work and glory—“to bring to pass the immortality and eternal life of man” (Moses 1:39). On God’s eternal stage, it is usually intended that parents act as the central cast members in their children’s lives.

I know that the most important things my children should learn are things like

responsibility
kindness
proactivity
integrity
good manners
friendliness
forgiveness
being open and non-judgmental
service
ambition
thirst for knowledge
and the like -

and I fully intend to be the one teaching them these characteristics. (Or, at least, the most important one teaching them - but it's a team effort!) I won't leave my children's character up for grabs at a public school.

But I fully believe that I can teach my children these things while they attend public school. Having my kids attend public school doesn't exempt me from teaching my children. Nor does it prevent me from teaching them.

So.

I can be a good mom and not home school.

Thank you.

(Pssst. No bashing home school in the comments. That wasn't the point, please.)

In which I am grateful

So remember not so many months ago when I was thoroughly and completely bored? Refresher: I was misting around, feeling very blah and needing some focus in my life. Some PURPOSE, besides MamaRestaurantAndChiefEntertainer.

I threw myself into service. We invited over a different family every week for dinner. I made meals for the sick or overworked - visited the lonely - watched people's children - started a temple group - and wrote countless notes. I ran out of stamps. Every Sunday I sat down to ponder over a list of names I could serve. I slowly checked off name after name in the Relief Society directory - my goal to do something for all 185 sisters.

Disclaimer: These service activities were started for the most selfish of reasons. I was bored and unhappy. I served because I knew it made me feel better - not because I felt prompted, or because of the pure love of Christ. Nope. It was all about MOI.

But guess what.

I grew to love the people I served. I made friends - real friends. (And all that time wasted wondering the best way to make them ....)

I found purpose. I was happy. And I was helping people. Because I loved them.

Then, as you know, I ended up in the hospital and on bed rest.

(look - I am HANDING YOU free blackmail material)

But wait - I got visits. Meals. Flowers. Games. Chocolate. Books. And phone calls galore.

And I wonder.

What would have happened if I had crawled into my shell all those months ago? What would have happened if I gave into my self-indulging boredom, clinging to my wall at every activity and refusing to breach that mile-long female gap?

I really. truly. doubt I would have had so much help.

So I've discovered something. Even if we start serving for the most trivial of reasons - it always comes back to bless you in the end.

And I'm grateful.

Because I'm totally rude/awesome like this

One of my dear, dear friends (who I haven't seen in, oh, ten years, but that's beside the point) emailed me recently with the following request:

Any tips from a happily married lady? I know it seems so abstract asking. But I admire your fairy tale. I know there isn't a secret recipe per se...but what's the secret? ; )

Okay. Confession. She didn't write me recently. It was a month and a half ago.

So in case you were wondering, my dear, I haven't forgotten you. Not by half. I have not written you back - have blatantly ignored you, actually - for the simple reason that I didn't know how to answer. Aren't I awesome?! And rude.

Your question has been sitting in the back of my mind all these long weeks. I know you probably did not expect a long, well-thought out answer. You were probably just writing off the top of your head, and expected me to do the same. I know I'm way over-thinking this. But I am a classic Head Case, will probably wile away my sanity pondering how bees fly, and you just have to deal with it.

So without further ado, I give you MY "secrets" to a happy marriage. (I guess I'll now have to kill you all.)

1. You have to actually be married.


Commitment counts. Countless studies have proven time and again that married couples are significantly happier than those who simply live together. Something about publicly binding yourself to one person can actually increase love. Don't doubt.

And for those of you who are already married and think you're off the hook for this one, go back and read that line up there again. Commitment counts. This means divorce is not an option. Ever. Pre-nups, don't get me started; if you build yourself an emergency exit, you'll use it. So no "we'll stay married UNLESS ...." lists. No. No. Stop. You will stay married. Period.

This leads to:

2. Selflessness and sacrifice.


(I don't know why this picture represents selflessness. But apparently Google Images thinks it does.)

I firmly believe that any two decent people can make a marriage work if they're willing to pay the price. (I learned that from President Spencer W. Kimball.)

It means bending yourself to the other. It means putting their needs before your own. It means giving 100% of yourself ... and not expecting anything in return. No "I'll change this about me IF he changes this about him." No. Just "I will do this because I love him" - even if you don't like him all that much at the time.

I don't believe in soul mates. I don't believe that in heaven we pranced around promising enduring love throughout the eternities, with desperate pleas to find each other on earth.

I believe instead that we have to work hard to become one another's soul mates. This means change.

But WAIT! you say. I want to marry someone who loves me for who I am! you say. I shouldn't have to change! you say. CORRECT! I say. And yet change you will, and change you must. Because that's what marriage is all about: Loving the other without the change, but changing yourself because you love the other.

That's why it's so hard.

[And let me just say something right here. To make a marriage the joyful state of ecstasy that I know God intends, it takes two. TWO people working hard to sacrifice and change. That said, everyone has ups and downs. Sometimes one person will be working harder than the other. One will be giving, giving, giving without getting anything back. Sometimes BOTH will be down in the dumps. That's why the whole commitment thing is so important - to get us through the normal ebb and flow of human nature.]

3. This is where God comes in.


Now, I would be stupid to claim that a non-religious couple can't make it. Nonsense. I know plenty of happily married couples that don't go to church. And plenty of unhappy couples who do.

What I will say is this: Heavenly Father makes it a heckuva a lot easier. That's because when that one spouse is struggling, or when both of you are losing focus, He's there to remind you. A covenant marriage involves three people: husband, wife, and the Lord. That way, one of you is always pulling. And that one (the Lord) is pulling harder than the other two could ever manage on their own.

Not to mention the fact that changing one's very nature to match someone else is nothing short of a miracle. And the Lord? He knows miracles.

So there we are. That's it. One, two, three. All the little tips and advice (like communication, prayer, date nights, lots of intimacy, etc.) somehow fit into one of those three categories. Just three secrets, when it comes right down to it.

Good luck to you -

Love, That Girl

images here here and here

The whys and wherefores of bucket-dom

I go in phases with my scriptures. Phases where I wake up early and DEVOUR them for an hour, pencil at the ready. Phases where I read them during nap time, more as an item-to-be-checked-off-today thing. Phases where I read them right before I go to bed, struggling to get through a chapter, and not getting a dang thing out of it. And phases where I don't read them at all.

Stepper blogged about a bucket analogy the other day, and it reminded me about my favorite bucket story - even if it didn't have much to do with hers.

This picture made me laugh. Moving on.

A young man approached an old man, seeking wisdom. And to complain.

"Why do I have to read the Holy Book every day, O Wise Man? I never remember it anyway ..."

The sage bowed his head and promised to answer the youth's question - but only after the young man fetched a pail of water from a lake in the neighboring village.

The young man took off, bucket banging against his leg, trudging through the terrain, up and down hills, to said water source. Bucket filled, he began the trek home only to find that the bucket had a leak in it.

Upon arriving at the elder man's feet with nothing to show for his journey, the youth began to complain again, "This bucket had a leak in it! There's no point to this! Why did I have to do that?!"

And so the old man sent him to fill the bucket again.

Trek there, trek back. Still no water.

"Tell me about the bucket, son," the wise man said.

"Well," thought the young man. "I did water all the flowers between the lake and your hut."

"You're starting to get it - now do it again."

Trek there, trek back. Still no water.

"And what did you learn this time?" inquired the man.

After a moment's thought, the youth had the answer. "The bucket is clean."

***************

We are asked to read the Lord's word every day not only to learn, but to be cleansed.

Even if our buckets are a little leaky.

Empty boxes and full hearts

We finally unpacked the last box.

I know, I know. It's been four months. This box has been sitting in our closet for the majority of them. But -really! - we were unable to put it away until now. It held piano music.

Yesterday we arranged and rearranged - and sat on our haunches and arranged theoretically - the living room until it was JUST PERFECT. Our (new-to-us) piano is where it was always meant to be, and it has its own handy dandy Piano Music Holder Thingy.

I sat on the freshly-washed carpet (we were ambitious yesterday) and s p r e a d. Piles of music surrounded me. There was a pile for country, a pile for Broadway, a pile for guitar, a pile for classic. And more. Many of the sheets were unbound, and Canon in D was all mixed up with Fur Elise and Blues Boogie and Sonatina in G and You'll Be in My Heart.

It took a while, but everything is nicely organized and beckoning to be played.

This morning, by some miracle, things were running smoothly. My Man and I were ready, the church bags packed and the kids playing quietly. It was still two hours til church and I'd already read the lesson.

My feet steered themselves toward the living room. I opened the piano lid, feeling the ivories beneath my fingers - smooth and promising. The Church-y Music Drawer yielded a song I hadn't played in a long time - a song laden with memories and emotion. "Firmes em Ti," or "Steadfast in You."

(Open up another tab and listen to it here while you finish reading. Please? Pretty please? And just so you know, I don't know the people in the video. Sorry.)

Images of my precious youth flooded my mind. I saw sweet Dayse - so quiet, so sweet. Always willing to take on an extra service project and ease my burdens. I saw Patricia. Smiling, of course. Cracking crazy comments and making sure no one is left out. I saw Alexia. Probably with reggae on her earphones, but with her testimony always on her tongue. My Jessica. So insecure. Spilling her heart out to me, wetting my shoulder as I wet hers.

They - along with an army of girls and boys from all over the Jundiai area - sang that song in a regional fireside over a year ago. I got to play the piano for them. For months we rehearsed. There was plenty of goofing off - plenty of exasperated leaders and threats and stern looks and telling-offs. I doubted whether it would really happen.

The day arrived. The projector was broken. One of our soloists didn't show. Someone forgot the sheet music for one of the songs. Two of the wards were an hour late and I was holding back laughter and "I told you sos."

And we began. The opening prayer invited the Spirit and asked the participants to be open to His word. The light from those amazing young men and women filled the room. The audience was silent as they poured their whole souls into the music. The notes and our hearts swelled. When they sang the final chorus:

(in English)
Steadfast in you
Steady and true
Abounding in the good works
That you sent us here to do
Like a million stars
Lighting up the night
We are your youth
Ever strong
Ever true
Ever steadfast in you

(Complete English lyrics here.)

Tears rained down - because these teenagers really meant it. They lived those words. They exemplified what being a Latter-day Saint is all about, and their music penetrated us with the truth and naked honesty in their voices.

As I played their song this morning, I heard those voices all over again. They sang in my ear, accompanying me, whispering words of encouragement and hope: We love you, Becky. We love you and we miss you. Thank you for being our leader and a part of our lives. You really did help us.

I miss them. I miss them so badly.

I am so grateful for the chance I had to know them. I am so grateful that they let me into their lives. I am so grateful for the challenges and trials they presented - how they pushed me to become a better leader. I will never forget their faces - imprinted on my heart with undeniable power.

They changed me. And I'm so glad they did. That steadfast, mighty army that I got to captain for a very little while.

I miss them. I miss them so badly.

Titles are severely overrated

So I joined the PTO.

I was a little nervous at my first meeting. I didn't know anyone else there; I was late, and I realized upon arriving that everyone else seemed to have some kind of chique-y planner. Black. With nice, organized side tabs. While I brought my full-on 12-month wall calendar with a different beach featured every month and scribbled all over the place with multi-colored crayons. (Because pens in my house are a legend.)

So we all went around and introduced ourselves, most everyone cracking some joke or making a witty comment. Somehow my Clever Quota seemed to have been met that day, and I was coming up dry. Then the lady before me introduced herself.

"Hey, everyone, I'm _____ ______. I'm soooo not your typical PTO Mom. I don't bake or scrapbook or do any kinds of crafts. But hey, I'm here!"

Everyone laughed appreciatively and there were several shouts of "me, neither!" and "I must be in the right place!" and "if that were a requirement, I don't think anyone would be here!"

This plunged me into at least several minutes of deep thought, since I'm sitting here in front of the computer typing about it.

Cuz here's the thing. I scrapbook. I craft. I even bake bread.

So ... what does THAT mean?

Deep Thought Scenario #2: I was visit taught last week. I really like the two ladies who share the prophet's message with me every month. This month the message is on Raising the Divine Generation (or something to that effect.) But one sister, after giving her heartfelt testimony, made some derogatory remarks about "those perfect ladies who somehow manage to read scriptures every day and actually do Family Home Evening."

I read my scriptures every day. And we have FHE every week.

So ... what?

A "Molly Mormon" is an uncomplimentary term given to Latter-day Saint women who seemingly "do it all." A Molly bakes. Scrapbooks. Studies her scriptures. Never forgets FHE or family scripture study. Writes in her journal. Does her visiting teaching on time. Has ten children. Never gossips or swears. Cleans her house regularly. Attends all church meetings. Rotates mattresses. Memorizes General Conference talks. Fixes toilets. Etc., etc. Essentially, she's perfect. Shoo-in celestial material.

(Really, she's what we all WANT TO BE. It's true.)

Most importantly, a Molly Mormon

embodies the cheery, chipper and domesticated female in Latter-day Saint culture.

(That's from wikipedia.com, the fountain of all truth. They even have definitions for Mormon slang now. Dang.)

I don't really consider myself a Molly (mostly because of the cheerful requirement), but I've been called a Molly plenty of times. And usually in a disparaging tone: "Oh, whatever, Becky, we know you're a total Molly and can't identify with us."

[clears throat .... gears for soapbox ....]

Here's the thing. The point. Where I'm Going With All This.

I'm trying to be as Christ-like as possible. That has nothing to do, however, with quilting. (Pretty sure the Lord doesn't quilt.) I quilt because I like to. I scrapbook because I enjoy it. Not because I'm trying to fit a stereotype or feel obligated to be crafty by my church leaders. (Pretty sure none of them do, either.)

I'm trying to model my life after His, and yet there are times I get made fun of for remembering to pray first thing in the morning.

But listen. While I have a very firm testimony of the truthfulness of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints - of its plan of happiness - and that that plan of happiness WORKS - I also have a very firm testimony that YOU CAN BE DOING ALL THE RIGHT THINGS AND STILL BE IN A TOTAL FUNK.

(When I speak in all capitols, I must be serious.)

If life were perfect every time we remembered to do all the "right things" (scripture study, prayer, church attendance, service with a smile, etc.) then EVERYONE would do the right things. Instead, we can be doing everything right and still have everything go wrong.

That's what faith is all about.

Everyone - the Molliest of Mollies or the Jackest of Jack Mormons - feels the full range of emotions and must be subject to opposition. Without sad times and trials, there is no growth.

So what if I am a Molly. It's not a bad thing. It doesn't mean I don't have shortcomings and weaknesses and (gasp!) sins. I do. A lot of them. It also doesn't mean I don't have bad days. And I do. A lot of them.

I kind of want to make a new bumper sticker.

"I'm a Molly Mormon - WHAT'S IT TO YOU?!"

But maybe that would be counterproductive.