A Change of Heart

I was visiting with the Stake President as a part of the process of preparing to leave on a mission.  After going through some of the formalities of looking over paperwork etc, he used the time to offer some council and advice.

The first thing he told me was to attend the temple as often as possible between the time I received my call and the time I left.  It was a marvelous suggestion, and I'm glad to say that following his council on that had a very positive and lifelong impact on me.

The second thing he did was confirm my commitment.  He explained that he had been sending out a lot of sister missionaries who had been coming home early.  With the sisters not having the same expectation of service, they were eager to go, but quick to come home when it wasn't as fun as they had expected.  He said that before he signed the papers approving me to go, he wanted to make sure I was really going to stick with it to the end.  I eagerly said that I would and didn't think much more about it.

Three months later my whole world had changed.  I remember lying in my bed one evening realizing that I just really didn't like missionary work.  Texas was hot and humid.  The days were long and exhausting.  My regular routine consisted of knocking on the doors of strangers to try to have a conversation that they weren't necessarily interested in having.  In short, I was miserable.

In that moment I remembered the promise I had made to President Blair.  I really wonder if I would have gone home had he not taken the initiative to have that conversation with me.  But I had promised him, so another solution had to be discovered.

I found myself on my knees, pouring out my heart to the Lord.  I explained how miserable I was - how much I didn't want to participate in the daily activities that were expected of me.  I talked about how uncomfortable I was - literally sick to my stomach with apprehension.  I even whined a little bit, feeling sorry for myself for getting trapped into this life that I had chosen and volunteered for.

I prayed for a miracle.

It seemed that a change in circumstance was what I needed.  I just didn't know how to accomplish that change.  Maybe my promise didn't matter and I really did just need to go home.  Perhaps a new area would have improved things for me.  I didn't really know what the answer was, but I trusted that Heavenly Father could alter my life in whatever major way was required.

And he did.

He changed my heart.

The next day I found that I was less miserable.  I took inventory of what was different.  I realized that nothing had changed.  The daily responsibilities were the same.  The weather and climate were the same.  The endless doors and talking to strangers was still part of our schedule.  But somehow, I had been blessed with a little more courage and a lot more joy in what I was doing.

Sometimes the biggest miracles are really so small.

I reflect on this experience when the routines of life get overwhelming.  It is so easy to say, "But I don't want to do the dishes anymore.  I don't want to make the dinner.  I don't want to do the homework.  I don't want to fulfill my calling."  I sometimes think, "But I'm tired.  I want to do something fun.  I am not smart enough or disciplined enough and able enough."  And then I remember - He can make it fun.  He can make it worthwhile, and He can bring the joy in even the most miserable and mundane task.

So often, I have learned, it isn't my circumstance that needs to change, but my heart.

Seeking Revelation

Missionary Flashback

Missionary Training Center August 1999

When I first began to consider going on a mission, I received excellent advice from a very good friend of mine.  He and I (and since I am sitting in the backseat of his car in this memory, I assume his fiance Jennifer was also with us) were driving home from church in the singles ward.  We were discussing the possibility of me serving a mission and he reminded me that a mission is not a responsibility for the women in the church.  President Monson recently gave us the same reminder when he said, "Many young women also serve, but they are not under the same mandate to serve as are the young men. We assure the young sisters of the Church, however, that they make a valuable contribution as missionaries, and we welcome their service." Tim explained that missionary work is hard and exhausting work.  Basically, he told me that if I want to go on a mission, I need to KNOW that it is where I should be because without that confidence, my motivation would fail.

That advice began a serious journey of striving to seek revelation.  It went on week after week after week.  I prayed and fasted and studied and pondered.

But no answer came.

I waited and worked, trying to decide what I should do, but still all was silent.  I took Tim's council seriously and knew that I couldn't go unless I really really knew that it was what Heavenly Father wanted me to do.

This was a marvelous time of learning for me as I had to exercise faith, trust and patience - endlessly waiting for my answer.  But it still didn't come.

Finally, I gave up.

I decided not to go and I went to my knees in prayer to report my decision to Heavenly Father.  "I have tried," I explained, "to receive affirmation that I should go...  but that confirmation hasn't come in all of this time, so I believe that my answer is to NOT go.  I have chosen to not serve a mission."

And then the answer came.

The moment I expressed my decision to not go, I felt like a light was tangibly going off.  Though there was nothing visible in this experience, a darkness suddenly filled my life in a way I had never previously experienced.  I continued on in my prayer.

"This feels wrong.  Now I know.  I will serve a mission."

And as suddenly as the darkness had come, it was immediately gone again, replaced by a light brighter than had previously been there.  I never questioned my decision to serve a mission from that moment forward.

Love

Love has been in the air and its given me reason to pause.

I feel surrounded by so many forms of love.

It is a blessing.

Heavenly Father loves me.

He loves you.

How often do we take the time to consider that.

To feel it.

To know it to the core.

When I was a teenager I remember being desperate for romance.

To me, that was the only love that acknowledged me as an individual.

My parents loved me, yes.

And they loved their five other children.

It didn't make me feel special.

Heavenly Father loved me.

It was true.

But He loves EVERYONE.

In the whole world.

Across the ages.

I felt kind of lost in that.

I had friends who loved me.

But our group of friends was large and vast.

Again, I just didn't feel like I was particularly special.

Despite love being all around me, I felt alone.

Fortunately, my understanding has matured.

And my experience with love has increased over the years.

Perhaps the best way to understand and receive love is to feel and give it.

Because I have two amazing children,

I now understand that the love of a parent isn't generic at all.

I adore my precious boys with such intensity!

I see their traits, their personalities, their flaws and their potentials.

They bring joy, happiness and so much love into my life.

Years of experience has also strengthened my knowledge of Heavenly Father's love.

I have learned that he knows me as an individual.

He whispers guidance, comfort, peace and direction.

No one understands me more intimately than my Father in Heaven and my Savior.

Their love fills me.

I find that in being filled with their love, I feel a greater love for others.

I want to share the joy that is in me.

As a child I felt that I had to have a corner on the market of love for it to be valuable.

What a foolish way of thinking.

Love just doesn't work like that.

For Valentine's Day I decided I wanted to teach my children to serve.

I wanted to give them an opportunity to experience love.

We decided to be mindful of the single sisters in our ward - the widows and those who have never married.

We wanted them to know that they were not forgotten.

My Valentine's Day was wonderful this year.

There were so many things that made it good - that made my heart swell.

Watching my boys deliver these valentines was one of those priceless memories from that day.

They had a bit of a learning curve.

At the first house the sister told them thank you.

Peter eagerly explained, "We are taking one to ALL of the widows!"

This woman had never been married, but is somewhat elderly.

She replied, "Well, I'm kind of like a widow."

I was kind of mortified.

But in retrospect I don't think she was offended.

And the boys were trying so hard.

We told them not to say anything about widows to anyone else.

At the next house they were told thank you again.

It was awkward, and they didn't quite know how to leave.

We realized that we needed to teach them how to politely say, "You're welcome."

After that, things seemed to go better.

They went to every single door together.

They loved racing from house to house and were excited to take turns carrying the treat.

One woman told me thank you for the cupcake,

but said that she especially liked "the sweet little guys delivering it".

Another woman said, "They were so cute."

and that she could tell "that they felt good about what they were doing."

Love is contagious.

I feel overwhelmed with love from my Heavenly Father.

I wanted to share that with my boys.

They had an opportunity to pass it on to ladies they really don't even know.

And suddenly, the world feels brighter.

Happy Valentine's Day!

A New Phase

If I am counting correctly, I now have 18 nieces and nephews.

10 girls, 8 boys.

(And since 10+8=18, I think I must have gotten it right.)

This little cutie turned my brother into a father.

I remember David being born.

His crib was in my room.

I would wake up to see if he was breathing.

I changed his diapers, burped him, and loved him.

With Alister I feel like I am one step closer to being a grandma.

I know I'm too young to think about that.

But since I have less children than I had hoped for,

I have already spent a few years looking forward to the grandparent phase with anticipation.

And then I realized that my younger siblings would provide me with a happy in between phase.

This baby is the first of my nephews and nieces that doesn't have a sibling who overlaps in ages with my kids.

We won't do play dates with this little guy - the relationship will be different.

Instead of being one of the moms, I hope I get to be the grandma-like Aunt.

I want to spoil and love and adore.

And just look at that face!

I'm thinking that spoiling, loving and adoring this one is going to be pretty darn easy!

Family Date Night

Now that we have our evenings back, we have reclaimed date night.

Sometimes the dates are between one parent and one child.

Sometimes they are just the parents.

And other times yet, they are the entire family.

Last night was our family date night.

We were actually going to start our evening by taking dinner to my grandparents.

They had fed us the night before.

I had been amazingly busy and hadn't been able to stay to visit.

Andrew got called away to help me out for some of the time.

So we wanted to go back.

As Andrew reminded me, not every kid gets to grow up knowing his great-grandparents.

This is a pretty special treat.

We want to let our boys live it up while we can!

We called my grandma to tell her we were bringing dinner.

But she was on her way out the door.

They had been busy at home all day, and Grandpa was ready to go out.

They invited us to join them!

Grandpa LOVES bacon and eggs.

It's what he eats pretty much every day.

Sometimes he eats it two or three times a day.

So Denny's is a good choice for him.

That worked out well for us because the boys also LOVE Denny's.

As you can see from their smiles, they also love my Grandma.

(And seriously, who can blame them?  She is an amazing woman!!!!)

After dinner, we headed to Scheel's.

Grandpa was excited to check out all of the fishing stuff.

He is 92 years old,

he hasn't been able to walk on his own for years,

he hates traveling,

but is obsessed with planning a fishing trip.

For Christmas, he wanted to take my Grandma camping so they could fish.

He thought this picture was pretty cool stuff, 

although he didn't understand it while it was being taken...

Grandpa has also been really interested in this Ferris Wheel.

Sadly, there are several steps to get onto it, and he can't get up them.

At some point we are planning on getting our brothers/husbands to carry him up.

But last night was just Andrew.

He took the boys and Grandpa, Grandma and I watched.

Peter and Andrew LOVED it.

They had tons of fun.

Poor Ammon takes after me.

It made him VERY nervous.

(I'm with you Ammon - I HATE Ferris Wheels!)

I think he was miserable the entire time.

Overall, it was a fun night out.

I LOVE having my grandparents live so close.

I grew up with them being in a different state.

Having them here is something I can NOT take for granted.

It has been so much fun for me, my husband and my children.

What a blessing!

Once There Was a Snowman

January was a HUGE month for snow.

I guess it's been seventeen years since we've gotten this much.

And the boys LOVED it!

Ammon was especially eager to go straight to work shoveling snow and playing.

(The shoveling part lasted about four minutes - the playing about four hours...)

Late in the evening, the boys showed up at the back door asking,

"Mom, do we have any coal?"

???

I was so confused.

Do we have any coal???

What in the world would a five and nine year old need coal for?

And then I realized.

"Do you need eyes for a snowman?"

Yup.

That's what it was.

We didn't have any coal, so we used Andy's original pair of Oakley's.

They are fifteen years old.

He has literally five other pairs.

He never wears them these ones.

He still cringed a little when I told him we were using them for the snow man.

The boys were happy that we had carrots for a nose.

Peter mentioned that his snow man looked happy.

I think it was partly because of all the pretty colors of the fruit loop mouth.

They put the finishing touches on the snowman, we took pictures, and then came in for bed.

They had played out in the snow ALL day.

Leadership In Me - Think Win Win

The boys school has an awesome Leadership in Me program.

Each month they work on a different one of Covey's 7 Habits for Highly Successful People.

This past month focused on thinking "win/win".

Really, I think this is Ammon's favorite skill of the bunch.

He has been a natural at this ever since he was super young.

When he was little he wouldn't always say he was hungry and that he wanted an apple.

He would suggest, "We have too many apples..."
And leave it to me to determine how to solve the problem.

"Ammon, would you like to eat an apple?"
Of course, the answer would be yes!

He was AMAZING at always creating a scenario 

where it would benefit ME to suggest that he do exactly what HE wanted to do...

Anyway, that isn't exactly the winwin philosophy, but I think it's related.

The award was presented by Ammon's teacher, Mrs. Douglass.

We love her!

His principle was in charge of the assembly.

I don't know him well, but the kids adore him so I assume he is doing something right.

Peter and I were so happy to clap for Ammon and be there to support him.

Peter even took a picture of me with Ammon.

I sure am proud of my boys.

(Peter received the Leadership in Me award earlier this year.)

Pinewood Derby

This year was our first pinewood derby.

It was actually a major catalyst in Andrew's decision to accept a new schedule at work.

Working nights required him to miss the pack meeting every month.

But we knew he would take time off to make it to the pine wood derby.

We realized his new shift would require him to use vacation hours for certain Saturday events.

Then we realized he already had to do that.

Nothing lost in that aspect of the change, and other things were gained.

So we made the change in his schedule and we LOVE it.

Andrew took his responsibilities very seriously in helping Ammon get ready for the race.

They sat down together and designed a beautiful and sleek racing car.

They headed to Grandpa's house to use his saws and got it cut.

They went to the store together where Ammon selected his paint and decals.

Andrew supervised while Ammon did several coats of paint.

The wheels were added and then the stickers.

After it was built, we realized we had some flaws in the design.

The cut of the car had left very thin areas where the wheels needed to attach.

As a result, the wheels were a bit crooked.

Also, the car was cut so slim that there was little room for internal weights.

They could have added weights to the top, but Andrew didn't want to.

We didn't really care if Ammon won first place.

But both Andrew and I were so worried at the thought the he might come in last.

Our car looked pretty awesome,

but we knew it had some major weaknesses that would impact performance.

So, the morning before the derby, Andrew set out to help Ammon make a new car.

It was a crazy day because he worked his job until 8:00 at night Monday night.

Then he turned around and left the house at 7:00 the next morning - only to get home around 6:00.

The pinewood derby was scheduled to start at 7:00.

It was hectic, but we were able to get the new car made.

Just before the race started, the guy asked if anyone used the white powder.

I didn't know anything about powder, but Andrew was on top of it and had gotten some for Ammon's car.

It helps make the wheels spin better, I guess.

Well, we had used the white powder.

The guy said it was junk.

He said that anyone who wants to powder their car has to do it before the racing starts.

So we went and put some black powder on top of the white powder not thinking much more of it.

Then the race began.

They rolled four cars at a time.

Two of them (belonging to brothers) didn't even cross the line.

A quick review revealed that they had used the white powder.

The guy had them go douse them in the black powder as much as possible.

My heart sank.

We had put some black powder over the white, but was it enough?

No, it wasn't.

Race after race, Ammon's car came in dead last.

Ammon was heartbroken - he had been so proud of his car.

Andrew was devestated - he had worked so hard to avoid this very scenario.

It was sad to watch.

After each race, I had Ammon come sit with me on my lap.

We had whispered conversations about it being OK to lose.

We had hugs and kisses.

He was so sad, but he handled himself well.

I could see that he wanted to cry or even throw a big fit.

But he didn't.

The guy running the race was great about making it fun and not about winning.

But it was still hard for Ammon to come in dead last.

I don't know if anyone else even realized that he lost every single time.

But he did.

It was a hard night, because we knew it was just that stupid powder.

In fact, the third place winner was one of those cars that didn't even make it on his first run.

If only we had known!!!

But we finished the races, went out for ice-cream and all was forgotten.

Well, all the sadness was forgotten.

I think I will always remember being so proud of my boy - 

Who stayed strong in the midst of disappointment.

He never gave up hope and he stuck with it until the end.

Sometimes bad things happen.

There is nothing that can be done to change the situation.

It can really stink and just not be any fun.

But whether or not you can control the situation, you can always control your response.

I felt like Ammon was able to learn that lesson this year.

If even just a little bit.

And that is what I loved most about the pinewood derby.

I'm so proud of my boy!