Daily Gratitude - Day 16

Ward Conference was today and the talks all focused on the importance missionary work. I listened obligingly but it didn’t pierce my heart until the counselor in the stake presidency started talking about how he’s noticed throughout the years that when he makes a concerted effort to improve a quantifiable statistic, like missionary work or home teaching, by emphasizing its importance and our responsibilities to perform it, the numbers usually go down. That caught my interest. I admit I was tuning out before because...well...I’ve heard it all before. And I still have never been a great missionary or visiting teacher. This guy was going to to explain to me why he thought that was.

What he went on to say was not new. I’ve heard it all before as well. But I had a the-wicked-taketh-the-truth-to-be-hard moment when he suggested that true conversion needs to take place before we can expect the motivation to share the gospel and help others as Christ did. Am I not converted?

I thought I was. I think I am. So, why don’t I devote my life to sharing the gospel - both with the members of my ward I have stewardship to serve and with my friends and community? I’ve been trying to come up with a satisfying answer the entire day. I don’t know. I know I’ve said before that I lack the activist gene and while that is definitely true, I never feel compelled to convince someone else that what I think is right is what they should think is right, it is a weak defense. I’ve never invited anyone to church with me. I think I’ve given a copy of the Book of Mormon to one friend in my entire life. Anytime the missionaries ask me for the name of a friend, I say no names come to mind.  And it’s true.

And yet, anyone who knows me knows what religion I am. I go to bookclub and I don’t drink the wine and I don’t swear and I answer the inevitable questions about mormons that come so I think I’m being a good member of the church and setting a good example. If only that were enough. I am definitely one of those that hopes that someone will know me....respect me and my lifestyle...and want to take the missionary discussions. I swear I hear these conversion stories all of the time and I wonder, “Why doesn’t this happen to any of my friends? Is it me?”

After that talk, I’m thinking it’s me. So, I’ve got some work to do. On my own conversion. Or something.

Tonight, we fed the sister missionaries dinner. They are awkward and I admit I dread the appointment a bit but after they left my home tonight, I had an about face. These two young women (I think they are both only 20) are spending 75 percent of their work day knocking on doors in an attempt to find the people whose souls yearn to hear the gospel of Jesus Christ. Most people don’t yearn or aren’t ready to yearn yet.  I know that’s part of the reason I’m hesitant to share what I believe.  I’m so certain that everyone I know is fine and happy with their own beliefs. After all, I am. But these missionaries have committed 18 months of their young lives to share the gospel.  I envy them their singular focus.

I want to be converted. I want the Lord to know that I am. I want to be an instrument in blessing the lives of others. In the meantime, I’m grateful for the missionaries who work and serve and take up the slack in my own effort.

It’s Time

** I was asked to be the keynote speaker at the stake women’s conference back in August. The theme for the conference was “It’s Time.” Again, I did not write out my talk and have reconstructed this blog post based on some notes I had and what I think I said:) This is what I felt inspired to talk about.**

I love Apple products. I haven’t always. For most of my computer-using life, I used PCs.  Then, the iPod came out. I had a couple of very inferior mp3 players that I never used because they were such a hassle so when I got an iPod and it was so...easy and intuitive, my conversion began.  Next was an iPhone. It just made sense to have my songs AND my phone with me at all times. Then, I got the smaller shuffle for exercise and the nano too for...more exercise? I guess. I just wanted it all. A few years ago, our family made the big switch and got an iMac instead of another PC and we started becoming familiar with all of the apple software. It was a fait accompli when I got an iPad last Christmas.  I don’t consider myself a rabid Apple fan who camps outside of stores but I am a middle aged fan who will search out the best price online and order it there. Crazy. I just really enjoy each product and believe they work better than the alternatives out there.

It makes sense then that when I read the Steve Jobs biography by Walter Isaacson a few years ago and I got to the part of the book when Jobs defended what is called a “closed system,” in the computer world that Apple uses, I totally nodded my head in agreement.  Literally. I was walking and listening to the audio version and I can remember walking near Pastorious reservoir and doing an “Amen” head bob when Jobs explained to his partner, Steve Wozniak, that the majority of people don’t want “open” systems or the freedom/responsibility of personal design when it comes to their personal computers (Wozniak assumed everyone would want to do this because this is how he and Jobs built Apple...tinkering with computer and personalizing software and hardware). Instead, he argued that most people simply want something that works well. Better than the alternatives.

Now, I have very little understanding of how computers operate but as Jobs described how much better Apple would work because their components and the operating system couldn’t be altered and messed with and all of the software would be specifically Apple designed so that every part of the design worked congruously together, I honestly appreciated his vision. I don’t want to build my own computer or hack or upgrade or switch out anything or think that much about any of it.  I just want to plug a computer in and have it run well...virus/malware/bug free. Add an aesthetically pleasing package and the wonderfully efficient cloud now that shares it all effortlessly between my devises and I stand solidly in camp Apple.

While I was on my walk, however, my brain did this troubling connecting of dots. Closed system. No choice. Efficiency over flexibility. Gah! I was nodding enthusiastically, nay, coveting what basically mirrored Satan’s plan. Awesome.

I mourned for a few days because I had a nagging worry that to be truly righteous, I should give up all of my Apple products but I have since decided it is just my electronics that have no agency, not me, therefore I am free to continue to enjoy them.  In all seriousness though, it really opened my eyes to how attractive Satan probably made his plan seem in the pre-existence.  And, I don’t think he’s done trying to convince us that his operating system of mortality is superior to what we chose instead.

With his pitchfork in hand and its prongs of persuasion pointedly persuading us to underuse and undervalue our messy agency, he continues to wage war against Heavenly Father’s Plan of Salvation here on earth. The war is not over. I’d like to focus on two of those prongs in my message today.

The first prong could be called “Control with Contentment” or “Don’t Rock the Boat.” I think this is Satan at his most sneaky because he’s not convincing us to do anything wrong, a tactic we might better recognize as his, but rather seductively lulls us into not doing anything different at all. We all settle into comfort zones and, sometimes, change, progress and a desire to accept challenges that allow us to grow seem better suited for the younger or more adventurous or less stable. Personal growth stalls because “All is well in zion.”

This is an especially tricky ploy of Satan’s because being content is a great feeling. After all of the transitions that are necessary to become a productive and self-reliant adult...to feel settled is not a bad thing. In fact, I think being content with our homes and our dress size and cars that may not be the latest and greatest model is actually a good thing. That kind of contentment is not what I am talking about. No, Satan distorts this feeling of contentment and extends it into areas where we should not be content to be content. We turn down callings because they aren’t things we’re good at or we’ve done them before. We don’t visit teach that one sister because she doesn’t seem like like us or care if we come. We stop reading the scriptures because we’ve read the Book of Mormon at least 5 times.  We stop attending the temple because things are fine and it takes so much time to go. When life is busily chugging along at a good clip and everything is running smoothly, it’s awfully uncomfortable to think about messing with what works.  They do say, “If it ain’t broke, why fix it?” for a reason.

Now, I want you to think of Eve. If ever there was a woman who could claim contentment, Eve could. There she was, living the good life in the Garden of Eden. She didn’t have to cook. She didn’t have any laundry to do. She had the undivided attention of her husband who didn’t have a job or hobbies or a football season to distract him from hanging out with her. But, Eve was a choice spirit. Bruce R. McConkie wrote, “ There is no language that can do credit to our glorious mother, Eve.  Eve - a daughter of God, one of the spirit offspring of the Almighty Elohim - was among the noble and great in the pre mortal existence. She ranked in spiritual stature, in faith and devotion, in conformity to eternal law with Michael.” I’m certain that had the lord put me in the Garden of Eden, I’d still be there! Thank goodness for Eve!

Even though a veil prevented her from remembering her choice of agency, her spirit recognized the dangers of spiritual contentment. She yearned for growth and knowledge. She made a choice that took away all of her comfort. The immediate repercussion was work, sorrow, pain, and physical death. Isn’t that what we fear will happen if we rock our calm boats? That our choices will make things worse or somehow harder for us? Eve said it best. She said, “...were it not for our transgression we never should have had seed, and never should have known good and evil and the joy of our redemption and the eternal life which God giveth unto all the obedient.” Because of Eve’s courageous choice, we don’t have to personally transgress to have that knowledge. She passed that gift of knowledge on to us. C.S. Lewis, in his Chronicles of Narnia series calls human females, “Daughters of Eve.” I like that. I like knowing that I am a descendent of Eve and can be like her.  It is time that, like Eve, we choose the potential and promise of joy over satan’s ultimately unsatisfying contentment.

The second prong of Satan’s pitchfork of persuasion could be called, “Manipulate with Misery” or, “There is no boat.” This persuasive tactic uses Satan’s more obvious tricks but they become difficult to recognize because of the hopeless state in which many find themselves. Depression, marital crisis, divorce, addictions, crippling debt, injury or loss of health and grievous sin create a psychology where no relief seems possible so why even try? Just as Satan motivates the content to resist change, he suppresses agency by making it appear as if none exists. We are drowning. There is no help. There is no fix.

Now, I want you to think of the woman in the New Testament with the issue of blood. If ever there was a woman who could claim misery, she could. This woman’s plight is described as bleeding for twelve years.  Twelve. Years. Although no medical terminology is given in the scriptures, a modern day diagnosis might be Menorrhagia, which includes abnormally heavy and prolonged menstruation, to the point where normal activity isn’t possible. This would be a miserable thing to suffer in our modern day, but for a Jewish woman who lived during the time of Christ, there might not be anything worse.

A couple of years ago, I had an opportunity to travel to Israel and learned much about the history of that troubled land by what is revealed in the archeology. In the land where the Jews lived during Christ’s life, mikvehs or ritualistic baths, existed in abundance. Mikvehs look a lot like our church building baptismal fonts. There is usually a sort of antechamber attached to stairs that lead down to a font or depressed bath. Because they had to be built below ground is why there is so much archeological evidence of their existence. These mikvehs were used by Jews for purification. In Jewish law, if a woman is bleeding, she cannot be touched. Blood, especially menstrual blood, is unclean, a symbol of death, and so women are considered unclean during menstration and for seven days after they stop bleeding. After those seven days, a woman would have used a Mikveh to purify herself to be allowed to resume relations with her husband, to go to synagogue, to go to temple.  Well...this woman never stopped bleeding. She could never have been touched.  If she had been married, her husband would have been legally allowed to divorce her.  She obviously was unable to have children. She never would have been worthy to participate in worship services that may have provided spiritual relief. She would have been weak and anemic from the loss of blood. She was financially ruined after failed attempts by doctors to cure her.

When I think of her state of deprivation, I marvel at her mental and physical courage to seek out the Savior as he traveled among the throng. Remember, she would have been an outcast. Anyone she touched or bumped into would have been unclean by association. Whether others recognized her or she had a reputation, I don’t know, but I do know that she had every reason to stay home, hide from her shame and curse God. There is no doubt in my mind that Satan would have manipulated her to think that if there was a God, he certainly didn’t love her so why should she turn to Him?

Somehow, she remembered that agency within her. Even with her heavy burden, she didn’t succumb to the misery. She wanted the healing power of Jesus Christ. She knew that if she could get close enough, if she could just touch the hem of his robe, that all of her suffering would cease. She didn’t seek for a direct blessing. She wanted none of His attention. In fact, we know that she hesitated to admit what she had done after she touched the robe of Christ and WAS healed. Christ knew immediately that something had happened. His power, a physical power that the scriptures name as virtue, left Him following her touch. He looked around and asked who had touched Him. Even His closest disciples admitted it would be impossible to identify a single person because there were so many surrounding Him and many were touching Him.

This woman could easily have stayed silent. She could have disappeared, happy in her relief and anonymity. But, once again, she turned to the Savior. The repercussions from this unclean woman touching Jesus Christ, surrounded by his most ardent disciples and making him, according to the Law, unclean, would have been a big deal! Many could have been justifiably angry at her action. The Savior could have rebuked her. But Jesus Christ, always a teacher, always our redeemer, said, “Daughter, be of good comfort; thy faith hath made thee whole.” She was a daughter.  We are daughters. Like this woman, we are also followers of Christ, desperate for his miraculous healing. We have that same right and ability to seek his healing without permission or price...even if we are considered unclean or unworthy. Especially if we are unclean and unworthy. It is time for us to throw Satan’s misery aside and act with the courage and faith of this woman and choose to be healed from our afflictions.

Satan is smart and deceptive. Like a masterful marketer, he offers sleek alternatives to our sometimes messy and buggy agency that seem smoother and simpler. But, it is time to open our eyes and recognize Lucifer for who he is just as Eve did. It’s time to seek out the Savior and His power to heal our hurt. It’s time to use the agency, for which we fought, for which Christ atoned, more fully.  I testify that when we do, we will come to rely more on our Savior and, eventually, become like Him.

Lessons from a Jaredite

**I was asked to speak at Young Women In Excellence.  I didn’t read this but prepared notes and spoke from my heart.  I wrote this out afterward using my notes.  Not sure I said it all but it’s what I meant to say, at least: The theme of the evening was “Let the “Son” in.”)**

Lord Byron, a famous poet, once wrote, “History, with all her volumes vast, hath but one page.”  Another, less fancy way of saying this is history repeats itself.  We know this is true and often repeating cycles of doomed civilizations, wars and failed economies makes this statement seem like a depressing one.

But, is repeating something always so bad? I am the primary chorister in my ward and we just had our primary program on Sunday and let me tell you…we practiced those songs a lot! When teaching music, repetition is actually the key to learning a song so for the past several months, the majority of my teaching has involved coming up with different games and ways to sing the same program songs over and over.  And the children, even the three and four year olds, did learn them.  You know this from your own experiences, I’m sure.  How did you learn your times tables? That dance routine? How did you memorize the articles of faith?

My point is, is that, yes, history repeats itself, and sometimes, I think that our human tendency of repetition allows Heavenly Father to teach us important truths.  Most of us are probably familiar with the term “Nephite Pride Cycle” and we know what the warning is from this recurring pattern of action. There is another history in the scriptures that sort of cycles through both the bible and Book of Mormon.  Here is the story: there are people living in a place where they cannot stay, either because there is no chance for progress or their destruction is guaranteed by staying. The Lord, through revelation, tells these people to leave their home, where to go and how to get there, motivating them with wonderful divine promises BUT… the journey to a promised land is never easy.  This is found in the history of Adam and Eve, Noah, Abraham, Moses, Lehi, and the pioneers during the early days of the church.  I think it’s fairly easy to see the symbolism of The Plan of Salvation in each history.  We lived in a place where we could not progress.  To get to the promised land of eternal life with our father in heaven, we have this earth life journey and the travel will not be easy. The fact that we have earthly experiences that mirror this all important truth is no coincidence, in my opinion.  I think our Heavenly Father is a majestic and eternal primary chorister, teaching us how to successfully learn how to navigate this earth journey by having us learn over and over again how others have done it.  The famous World War II general of the Allied forces, George Patton, said, “Prepare for the unknown by studying how others in the past have coped with the unforeseeable and unpredictable.”  Like Patton, I want to study one such story in this historical pattern, that of the Jaredites found in the Book of Ether in the Book of Mormon, to see what valuable insights we can learn from them.

You are probably familiar with the Jaredite history but in case you are not, I will give a brief reminder.  Jared lived during the time when The Tower of Babel was being built.  God, in his anger at the audacity and pride of man, confounded the language of those building the tower. Jared asked his brother, a righteous man named Moriancumur, to plead with the Lord to preserve his language as well that of his friends and family.  The brother of Jared did so and his desire was granted. Jared’s friends and family were led by the Lord through the wilderness to a sea shore where they built unique barges as a way to cross the water.  These barges, or boats, were windowless and airtight so that they would not sink but they also did not have a way to get air or light into them. The Lord instructed the Brother of Jared to cut a hole in the top and the bottom of each barge that they could open for fresh air and close, when necessary, to keep the water out. The Lord, however, did not instruct the brother of Jared on what to do about the lack of light. Instead, the Lord asked him what he thought a good solution might be. The brother of Jared went to a mountain and molted 16 clear stones from a rock.  He took these stones to the Lord in prayer and asked the Lord to touch the stones so that they would be filled with light. Once lit, he would places these stones inside the barges and everyone inside each barge would be blessed by the light.

Now…I want to liken this scripture story to all of us. All of us here are in the throes of our earthly journey.  We lived in a pre-earth home with our Heavenly Father but we had to leave, come to earth to gain a body and participate in sacred ordinances necessary for the blessing of eternal life. So, we can all glean some vital information from the Jaredites and their experiences. You 12 to 18 year-olds, however, are on a journey within the journey. You are transitioning from child to adult.  Growing up is not only inevitable, it is required to progress.  Just as in the many repeated histories, you are being asked to leave the more comfortable known of childhood and journey to womanhood; a place full of wonderful promises. But, in order to get there, you have to get through middle school and high school first. Yay.

The Lord wants you to be prepared for this tough journey. Just like those expertly designed air-tight barges, the Lord has created your body to be a protection to you while on this earth as well as the vessel that will bring your spirit once again to His presence and to safety.

But, expert design notwithstanding, you can’t successfully make it to the promised land. Not yet. Not on your own.  The brother of Jared knew that none of them traveling could survive in the barges without air. He told the Lord, “We shall perish, for in them we cannot breath, save it is the air which is in them…therefore we shall perish.”

Do you remember what the Lord told them to do? He answered, “Behold, thou shalt make a hole in the top and also in the bottom and WHEN THOU SHALT SUFFER for air thou shalt unstop the hole and receive air.

Our spirits will also perish inside our earthly vessels without a way to let air in.  That air, the very thing we need for survival, is the atonement of Jesus Christ. Without the atonement of Jesus Christ we all will perish. Like the air we breath, it is absolutely critical for our salvation. For your journey, it is essential that you understand the beautiful design of repentance.  The Lord said, “And when thou shalt suffer…” which could mean sin (we all sin) but it also includes the loneliness you feel when your friendships change, the uncertainty of how well you fit in or if you even have a testimony, the frustration from fighting with your parents and siblings, stress from school and all its work, temptation to do the things we have been commanded to wait until marriage to do…all things common throughout life but particularly isolating in adolescence, to unstop the hole and receive air.  Receive the atonement.  Let the Lord in.  Let the son of God in. He does not want you to suffer.

He also doesn’t want us to be miserable.  The scriptures promise that all men( and young women) are that they might have joy. I love the next part of this story.  The Brother of Jared, relieved to have his first problem solved, sort of hedges now in his second request of the Lord. He already got the big problem solved…air….life…salvation….and it seems like he knows he should be satisfied. But he dares to ask for more. He said, “Lord, behold I have done even as thou hast commanded me and I have prepared the vessels for my people and, behold, there is no light in them. O Lord, wilt thou suffer that we shall cross this great water in darkness?”

I imagine the Lord with a gentle, understanding smile on His face when he responds, “What will ye that I should do that ye may have light in your vessels?”

The Lord doesn’t rebuke him here for his second request.  In fact, he reassures him that he’s asking for the right thing.  He pretty much says, “Yeah…you’re going to need some light because it’s going to be a pretty difficult journey.  Lots of wind and rain and floods.  I'm glad that you asked.  Now...what do you have in mind?"

He does not reply, “I don’t know.” He had an idea...to create 16 small clear stones by "moltening" then out of a rock. THEN...he went to The Lord and basically said, “This might seem like a really insignificant thing to you because of how awesome and knowledgeable you are but…this is what I came up with using my skills and I know, because you can do anything, that if you touched these rocks that I have made, they would light up and we could use them in the boats!”


Now...I'm pretty sure if The Lord asked me to come up with a source of light, my first inclination would not be to molten down a rock and create clear stones.  That is just not in my bag of tricks. But, it was in the brother of Jared's.  He clearly possessed the handy gene and using the earth's resources to make things was a talent of his. I like to think that he took more than rocks to the Lord but, instead, he took one of his talents to The Lord and asked him to make it a source of light.

I believe that we all have the opportunity to approach The Lord, in humility, with our talents and say, "Lord...touch this that I might have light for my comfort and to bless the lives of my family and friends." If you think about it, the rocks that the brother of Jared created were beautiful and "neat" to look at and enjoy and certainly would have garnered him the attention of his peers for being cool but it wasn't until they were touched by The Lord that they became powerful. Useful. Comforting. What talents do you have that can be made powerful? What do you have in your "bag of tricks" that can become more than just something to enjoy or something fun or beautiful and actually become a source of light and comfort for all who surround you to enjoy? I see so many of your talents…dance, photography, athletics, theater, writing, music, language…and I wonder: whose lives can be blessed by them? Whose dark journey can be made light?

The Lord loves you.  He wants to bless you.  He wants you to successfully cross these violent waters and not just survive but thrive.  I testify that the source of all light is the Son of God. I know he has the power to bless us with his light and through us, many others who might not yet know of his goodness and mercy. I hope you understand by the repeating history lesson throughout the scriptures that he wants us to bring us to his promised land.  And, by this story in particular, I hope you know that we can do it with his love and his light....and all we have to do is ask.  

The Big Eight for Big H

One of the stumbling blocks for keeping active on my blog lately is that I feel like all I have time for is capturing event after event after event. When you have a busy family, there is usually something going on for somebody that the mom/wife/family historian in me wants to archive and commemorate.  Even though I haven’t been blogging, I still feel the desire to make these moments permanent. But, inevitably over the past 8 months since going private, I’d miss something…a summer excursion or sport camp which turned into missing something else and suddenly, I was behind and if I had time to blog, I felt like I had to go back and catch up with those other important events first. But, all those unwritten blog posts left little room for the other type of blogging I love which is organizing my thoughts…about anything…into something. Combine those competing psychological issues with my odd apathy towards private blogging and you’ve got a nearly dead blog. I’m not sure how not writing anything is satisfying the guilt or fixing the indifference but that’s the trick of living in my head.

Still, in spite of missing so many other important events (Daniel’s second birthday, Our Anniversary, Christmas, New Years) I don’t want to forget about Henry’s 8th birthday and baptism. Every birthday is special and important but it’s not every day a kid like Henry turns 8.  It was kind of a big deal:)

Pure Henry

For the past several years, a good friend of his at school has a birthday right before Christmas break.  His mom is always so good about planning a fun party and it always gets Henry into a let’s-talk-about-my-birthday-a-month-ahead mode.  With all of those other events sandwiched between the parentheses above and the month, my brain is never as eager to go where Henry would like to take it.

I did start mentally preparing, however.  Even back in November, on a trip to Utah to see the SYTYCD tour (another event not blogged about), I purchased most of what I planned to give him for this coming of age year.  A set of engraved scriptures. A suit. A fancy pen to highlight said scriptures.  Oh, the joy of shopping for baptism gifts in Utah! Jay had purchased him a fun gift and, as far as the gift giving side of Henry’s birthday went, I felt prepared and at peace.

I offer “yes” days to all of my boys, and Henry is still easy to please. He wanted a muffin for breakfast and pizza for lunch and didn’t care what kind of treat I brought to his class.  When I showed up with cookies and CapriSuns, he was thrilled with both the treat and the attention. I love watching him smile.

I really don’t like transition lenses but my kids do because they have automatic sunglasses.  I can’t tell you how many pictures have been affected because you can’t make those things hurry up and go clear!

He loved passing everything out. Basically, Henry loves to party. 

When he came home, he only had a few hours to wait before his grandpa and grandma took him to a birthday dinner at the DQ. His birthday fell on a Wednesday and Jay and Seth needed to be at Young Mens so we invited Jay’s parents to the DQ for dinner and then went back to our house to open gifts.  We waited to have cake until they both came home.

Not a great picture of anyone but…hey…we were here. Thanks mom and pops!

Henry is a boy who loves gifts.  I can’t decide if him having a birthday so close to Christmas is a good or a bad thing. All of his excitement over gifts happens within such a short time. He ruins the things he gets so quickly, I think it would probably be better if he received gifts over a more spread out time table but as it is, he has 2 weeks of pure joy.  Lots of new things to ooh and ash over and he absolutely loves everything.  Seriously.  I could give him a Happy Meal toy and he would be thrilled.  I’m not sure why I bother with some of the more expensive things except that he is just so fun to watch open things.  His joy is what drives me.

Henry tore through his birthday presents in less than 5 minutes.  It’s a bit embarrassing to watch with guests.  He eventually gets back to each gift, and eventually played with everything enthusiastically, but once he sees what it is, it quickly gets tossed for the next wrapped gift. 

A golden dragon from China.  My parents have given every grandson one for their eighth birthday.  It’s a good thing they planned ahead because Henry remembered and was counting on it. 

Fun puzzle from Grandma J.

Scriptures in a BYU case

Uno Blast from Aunt Jen and family. It’s been a great family game.

Jay got Henry the classic Spirograph kit. Everyone likes it! (We are not artists so it makes us feel good at art)

I splurged and got the expensive card that plays music.  I wish I had a video of Henry’s dancing to it.

Sigh.  The Michael Kors suit I picked up at Burlington Coat Factory was too small.  It’s such a sharp looking suit.  All of my boys are built so differently and Henry is definitely more solid at 8 than his older brothers.

His favorite gift was this Easy Bake Oven from Aunt Sarah. It’s a new fancy design and all I can say is that there is nothing easy about baking in this oven. It had both Sarah and I stumped and we made quite a mess trying to get the cake in and out.  Henry was still thrilled to have made something. He’s on his way to becoming a chef!

Another Chinese gift.  The crazy birthday candle.  Totally illegal in the states and totally fun.

It gets bigger and more dangerous and then opens up, playing the “Happy Birthday” song.

It showed 9 lit candles when it opened up. Perfect!

I have loved keeping the birthday contained to the day the past few years but I knew I wouldn’t work this year. Not with family in town and not with my determination to have a party for him that was as easy for me as possible.  After last year’s debacle at the pottery place, I took the advice of a friend and reserved a time at the local children’s museum.  The only dates available, however, are on Saturdays and Sundays so, instead of a birth”day”, Henry had more of a birth”week”. So be it.  Every few years, it’s not going to kill me.  His party was fantastic. We set up a few decorations while Henry and his friends played in the museum and then a “scientist” taught them about dry ice and they made dry ice rockets.  Throw in some cupcakes, gifts and more play in the museum and it was the easiest 8 year old winter birthday party ever.

Starting to build the rockets out of paper wrapped around a film canister.

Almost everyone needed adult help. This woman in the black coat brought her other son with her.  I think it is so strange that for two years in a row, I have had extra, uninvited siblings at Henry’s party.  Is there a new etiquette rule about bring siblings to parties?

Love the glasses within the goggles.

Even Daniel wanted to build a rocket.

Watching one blast off.

Henry gets ready for his rocket.

Success!

It’s not nearly as cute as the tables my sister-in-law, Tara, lays out for her parties (she is a party table master) but I think it’s kind of cute.  They provided the plates and napkins which had no theme (Zooanimals and Avengers?)

I think it’s funny how everyone mobs the birthday gift opening.  

Again, this part of the party took no time.

There was only about 10 minutes left to go and enjoy the museum before parents came to pick up. 

Maureen explored a bit on her own:)

So did Sarah

I’m nervous that Jay will want to build one of these.  He thought it was very cool.

Energy generators

Daniel loved hammering

Sarah and Jay competing for more power for their bottle rockets.

Henry wanted to compete against his friend, Owen, too but preferred Sarah to do the pumping:)

Seth and his long legs managed to get all four lightbulbs lit.

The original plan was to have his birthday party in the morning, then drive him up to his ski lessons from 1-4 and then have his baptism that same night at 7. We knew it was a lot of activity for any kid but we were especially concerned given Henry’s unpredictable moods.  The Sunday prior, he had an interview scheduled with the bishop and the entire day, all he could say was how he didn’t want to have a birthday and didn’t want to be baptized.  I felt…concerned.  Henry and his motives are still mostly an enigma to me and I couldn’t figure out how his enthusiasm for his birthday, starting the month before, if you will remember, had fizzled.  When he didn’t even want his primary gift or to be sung to, I felt a bit desperate.  We had to wait for about an hour after church got out and it happened to be fast Sunday and he happened to be fasting (it doesn’t always happen) so, eventually, I figured out that he was both hungry and very nervous to meet with the bishop. When he came out from the bishop’s office with a smile on his face, I knew everything would be all right.  But, we still decided to opt out of ski lessons that day.  Just to be sure that Henry could be in the best mood possible for his baptism.

My parents are the most supportive people I have ever known in regard to attending important church ordinances.  Baptisms, missionary farewells or homecomings, weddings, funerals…if a loved one is going to take a step towards their eternal progression, Carl and Karen are going to be there with a “Go you!” Because Henry’s birthday happens so soon after Christmas, they came for the holiday and stayed for Henry’s baptism.  It was lovely to have them and I love that Henry will be able to look back at pictures and this blog post (major guilt occurring now about not writing other ones) and feel the support that his family offers.

A picture I’ll cherish.  Even Seth’s bare feet. 

His baptism was wonderful.  My sisters spent all day helping me prepare food and music and my mom saved my bacon by hemming old church pants of Sam’s after I learned that the suit I bought him would not fit. I was so happy with the turnout of friends, ward members and family and I know that Henry felt the love too.  Aunt Patty gave a great talk about prophets and their baptisms that Henry loved, Aunt Maureen sang a beautiful arrangement of “I Feel My Savior’s Love” and Aunt Sarah gave a fun talk about how the Holy Ghost is like a traffic light. Seth led the music and it was perfect to have his grandmas give prayers and his grandpas act as witnesses.

I was planning on moving the table so that we could be next to the picture of Christ but it didn’t happen.  But I did manage to put the lamp on the floor for a really awkward picture prop! But these boys in white jumpsuits (such an awkward design!) look fabulous and Henry is ready!

We are so proud of Henry!

On the drive home from the church, Henry must have told me three times that he could feel the Holy Ghost. He is still learning about how the gift impacts his life (he is mostly convinced that the Holy Ghost will help prevent him from tripping over rocks after a fall earlier in the week pre-confirmation) but I love that he feels its presence and isn’t afraid to acknowledge it.  He also tells me frequently that he will try to be better now that he is accountable for his choices.  Gush.

I love Henry. I am learning so much about who I am and how Heavenly Father’s plan works from being his mother.

When Two Rights Make A Right

Jay and I get tired of playing the heavy in Seth's life. We both understand the parenting concept of finding and focusing on the positive, encouraging better behavior by rewarding the good rather than punishing or complaining about the bad but I think we both struggle in its execution. I am the homework/grades, piano practice and room cleaning nag and Jay is his scoutmaster and Deacon's quorum advisor and we both feel that he hears the words, "You need to..." leave our mouths much too often. Basketball, in a way, has become a way for us to dabble in the art of positive reinforcement. We love the confidence he has gained with improved skills and we are impressed by his daily work ethic and dedication. He loves the sport. Period. Playing it. Watching it. Practicing it. Reading about it. Dreaming about it. Other than it dominating all of his free time and the cause of subsequent homework/piano/chore/scout nagging, basketball is a very good thing for all of us.

His free throw still needs work but he made it in this shot!

He's got a great outside shot even though he usually ends up playing post because of his height.

An earlier tournament from two weeks ago (this one was Saturday only) that his middle school team won.

Post tournament breakfast at Denny's.  Seth benefits when eating with his gluten-free dad and brother because he gets their toast. He loves sourdough.

For those reasons, Jay and I were both inclined to say, "Yes" when an opportunity arose to compete in a basketball tournament down in Albuquerque the weekend after Christmas. The team was a mix of players from both junior high schools and beside the fact that he would be able to continue to practice and play, we thought it would be a great chance to meet and befriend some of the boys he will undoubtedly know next year in high school. Because my parents would be in town and the tournament was a Saturday/Sunday event, Jay was the logical choice as the parent who would accompany him and bring him home Saturday night. I didn't really know any of the other parents well enough to send Seth with them and even though I'm fairly certain Seth wouldn't have chosen to play on Sunday anyway, not having to sit on the sidelines and watch others play the game he loves without him made his choice a bit easier to make.

His team won their first game but got clobbered in their second. That defeat put them in a bracket that required a 9:00 pm Saturday night game. The momager in charge assumed Seth would miss this evening game due to the 3.5 hour drive home but Jay didn't even hesitate with his response. If Seth was going to sacrifice his desires by not playing on Sunday, than he would make it possible for him to play every game he could on Saturday, even if it meant getting home in the middle of the night.

With their previous game ending at 1:00 pm and having already checked out of their hotel room, Jay and Seth had seven or so hours to kill. They went to the mall. They went to a movie. They drove to see the Albuquerque temple. They tried to nap in Jay's truck. Jay texted me a few time with pictures and warned me that they were both starting to feel a cold coming on (because there are still a few more days left in December to shore up its "Worst month of 2013" title).

Seth played tough and ended up on the ground a few times. He was more upset about the hole in his beloved basketball culottes (my word) than the painful raspberry on his knee.

In front of the beautiful Albuquerque temple.

At his happy place. Looking at all things Nike.

I wished them luck and tried to stay awake to learn the outcome of their night game. At 10:08, Jay texted, "56-20 loss. On our way home." A disappointing loss for sure, but the team they played was bigger in size and more polished from practicing and playing together for a year. The loss ended the tournament for the entire team, making the Sunday play issue obsolete - which was a relief to me. I wish it didn't matter but I hate the whole Sunday and sports issue. I would like to avoid the conflict entirely, even if it means losing.

Tournament team. I only know the names of about half of these boys.

I barely heard Jay come to bed and come morning time, we were all struggling. Well...my parents seemed fine and relaxed but all of my kids were off and grumpy and I had overslept and, in one harried hour, was trying to get myself ready, Daniel and Henry ready and in my daze of hairspray and buttoning shirts and pants, didn't realize Seth was still asleep at 8:10 am. Sam woke him up but when I saw him come downstairs, with his glassy eyes, scratchy throat and runny nose, and say, "I'm sick," I was ready to do battle. As heartless as it sounds, he had already missed church twice in the last month with legitimate illness (tis the season, I suppose) and if his dad, who was also sick, was well enough to go, then so was he. I didn't even have to say anything. Jay felt the same way and his response sent Seth angrily and upset up to his room to get dressed as fast as he could. The rest of us sat in the car and waited for him.

He came scrambling out to the garage and even though the rest of us were waiting in my car, he got into Jay's truck. With a running count of heavy sighs already, I got his attention and he switched wordlessly over to my vehicle, shirt unbuttoned, barefoot and holding the rest of his wardrobe in his hands. I had to bite my tongue from saying, "There will be no future basketball tournaments if this is your attitude on Sunday!" I knew the majority of his major moody meltdown stemmed from him feeling sick, but I still felt annoyed. Where was the gratitude for his dad's late night driving? It was a silent 20 minute drive to the church.

On the drive over, he had tied his tie and flattened down his hair but it wasn't until we were only about 2 minutes from the church that he finally started to put on his socks and shoes. With a groan and a thrashing of his head back into the front seat's headrest (Yes. His father had kindly sat in the backseat as well) he announced that he had picked up a shoe that wasn't his and he only had his right shoe. The other was an old Payless brand, black slip-on that was a size 6. It was also another right shoe.

I didn't respond but my mind made the decision that I would drop everyone else off at the building and then drive Seth back home to get his other shoe, most likely lecturing him the entire way about being more responsible, grateful, and organized. We parked and I got out of the car to get Daniel out of his carseat but left the vehicle running since I would be right back in it. Jay, on the other hand, had other plans. He efforted his way out from the way, way back and took off his shoes and told Seth to switch him shoes. I was a little distracted during this exchange, because Henry was forcing his way out and pushing the middle seat into Sam and was managing that minor squirmish but I saw Seth dash off towards the chapel in Jay's brown shoes. I didn't know what to expect when I came around the back of the car, and found Jay attempting to put on Seth's mismatched black shoes. I certainly didn't expect what had been a stressful and tense Sunday morning to become one of the most humorous and memorable of my life.

There was Jay, sitting sideways on the passenger seat, with one normal looking shoe and one much-too-small-obviously-non-matching-wrong-footed shoe. My immediate thought was to a scene in the movie "Strictly Ballroom" when a woman's husband can't be her dance partner because of his literal two left feet. That comedic genius was now Jay's reality and I laughed so hard I started to cry. He wasn't really going to church in those shoes, was he? Oh, yes, he was.

Jay usually helps the deacons with the sacrament but he didn't that day. I think he knew he might cause a scene if he attempted to reverently pass the sacrament with one foot halfway out of a shoe pointing in the wrong direction. Instead, he sat next to me and I intermittently got uncontrollable giggles if I glanced at his feet. My mom asked me what was going on and I told her and she got the giggles too. All was fine and well until Daniel sat on his squeezable pouch of sweet potatoes, making a huge orange mess on the carpet which led to his own personal meltdown. Jay, sitting on the edge of the row, swooped him up and shuffled out of the chapel as fast as his two right feet would allow.

He didn't make it back into the meeting and I don't know if it was due to Daniel's stubborn tantrum or his desire to avoid more awkward movement but I didn't give it much thought until I saw him again after the end of church. Colds that are worst in the morning had let up and both he and Seth seemed in good spirits when they returned to the car. I asked Jay if anyone said anything about his shoes and he replied, "No. Nobody even noticed. I don't think anyone checks out my feet." We all laughed and laughed at the ridiculousness of it all.

It's sort of hard to tell from even this short distance. I guess that's why Jay was able to make it through church without drawing much attention to himself.

It could have been such a different story. I could have gotten involved and fumed and fussed about privilege and priorities.  In other words, it all could have gone so poorly. I'm enormously proud of Jay's handling of the entire weekend - from the late add-on basketball game and midnight drive to the sacrifice of his personal vanity. The lesson we were going for, from the moment the invitation to this basketball tournament came, was, "We support you! We love you! We want you to be happy and you can be without ever compromising your values or breaking the commandments!" Two right shoes could have thwarted it all.  Instead, his father showed that honoring your priesthood responsibilities is always the right thing to do, even when you're tired, sick or in a hurry.  We all know that two wrongs don't make a right but two rights certainly can.

Closer up. I'm still giggling. It's like Cinderella's ugly black slipper not fitting!