I support protecting the traditional definition of marriage and denounce the recent decision of the California Supreme Court allowing same sex couples to marry. This decision overrides the voice of the California people, who affirmed in 2000 that marriage should remain between a man and a woman.
For more information, please see:
http://newsroom.lds.org/ldsnewsroom/eng/commentary/california-and-same-sex-marriage
http://www.protectmarriage.com/why.php
Monday, June 30, 2008
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Finding Courage, Healing and Strength
Life has just been too hard lately, lately being the past four or five months. I haven't been doing too well. I've been struggling with negative feelings and that has been exacerbating my problems, frankly. Although I know that, I find it difficult not to be negative. This is having no good effect on any of my relationships -- not with my family, my co-workers, my friends or with my Father in Heaven. This is a real problem, and, as with all problems, the first step to fixing it is recognizing it. Well, check. So what's the next step? Where do you go from there?
There's been some praying, some meditation, a lot of crying, some temple attendance, some efforts to serve and still my heart has mostly just felt -- hard. There's some anger and bitterness and a whole lot of fear there. I want so badly for all of that to just go away.
After all these months, I've finally realized some things.
A) Despite the efforts I am making to feel better, to feel more connected to the spirit and to Heavenly Father, I'm simply not doing enough. I lack consistency in my efforts and there are some basic, fundamental things I have to be doing on a regular basis if I want to feel better.
B) It's going to take some time. Patience is not a virtue I possess, and the Lord seems determined to help me possess it. So I must wait.
C) The most severe adversity I am facing at this time and that I face in general is not some circumstance I happen to find myself in -- it's me, my flaws, my weakness and, most especially, my pride. I have learned that the point of trials is not for us to overcome them, but for us to overcome ourselves, the natural man part of ourselves that holds us back and holds us down.
D) Although healing is not 100% complete and I probably won't feel like "myself" again for a while, the Lord mercifully allows me moments of relief, rewarding me for the paltry efforts I do make. And he sends me strength when I least expect it.
I had the opportunity to drive some young women home from girl's camp yesterday and because I drove Josh's car, I actually got to listen to some music in the car (my car stereo has been broken for almost four years). Music is amazing. I don't know what the language of God sounds like, but sometimes when I am listening to the right music I think I know what it feels like. Usually it's when I am listening to hymns or church music, but other music can stir my soul in the same way.
I was listening to the song "Pass the Cross to Me" from the musical Shenandoah. I was hoping to find the lyrics to share, but the lyrics for this show are apparently among the few pieces of information in the world that you cannot find online. It's just not the same without the music, though, and even if you heard the song, you would probably just scratch your head trying to figure out why it moved me so much. It was just the right song right then and I felt like I was being spoken to. Even now, thinking about it makes me cry. And I sang the words in full voice and they were a pledge, a prayer. And now I feel a little better and a little more ready to face the rough road ahead.
As I look back down the road of my life, it is littered with moments like these. The weight of the world is still on my shoulders, but it doesn't seem quite so heavy. Perhaps it is in these moments, I surrender and allow myself to be yoked with the Savior and allow Him to shoulder some of the load, instead of demanding that there be no load. And though almost all the work done is not being done by me, I feel strong, I feel brave and I feel whole.
There's been some praying, some meditation, a lot of crying, some temple attendance, some efforts to serve and still my heart has mostly just felt -- hard. There's some anger and bitterness and a whole lot of fear there. I want so badly for all of that to just go away.
After all these months, I've finally realized some things.
A) Despite the efforts I am making to feel better, to feel more connected to the spirit and to Heavenly Father, I'm simply not doing enough. I lack consistency in my efforts and there are some basic, fundamental things I have to be doing on a regular basis if I want to feel better.
B) It's going to take some time. Patience is not a virtue I possess, and the Lord seems determined to help me possess it. So I must wait.
C) The most severe adversity I am facing at this time and that I face in general is not some circumstance I happen to find myself in -- it's me, my flaws, my weakness and, most especially, my pride. I have learned that the point of trials is not for us to overcome them, but for us to overcome ourselves, the natural man part of ourselves that holds us back and holds us down.
D) Although healing is not 100% complete and I probably won't feel like "myself" again for a while, the Lord mercifully allows me moments of relief, rewarding me for the paltry efforts I do make. And he sends me strength when I least expect it.
I had the opportunity to drive some young women home from girl's camp yesterday and because I drove Josh's car, I actually got to listen to some music in the car (my car stereo has been broken for almost four years). Music is amazing. I don't know what the language of God sounds like, but sometimes when I am listening to the right music I think I know what it feels like. Usually it's when I am listening to hymns or church music, but other music can stir my soul in the same way.
I was listening to the song "Pass the Cross to Me" from the musical Shenandoah. I was hoping to find the lyrics to share, but the lyrics for this show are apparently among the few pieces of information in the world that you cannot find online. It's just not the same without the music, though, and even if you heard the song, you would probably just scratch your head trying to figure out why it moved me so much. It was just the right song right then and I felt like I was being spoken to. Even now, thinking about it makes me cry. And I sang the words in full voice and they were a pledge, a prayer. And now I feel a little better and a little more ready to face the rough road ahead.
As I look back down the road of my life, it is littered with moments like these. The weight of the world is still on my shoulders, but it doesn't seem quite so heavy. Perhaps it is in these moments, I surrender and allow myself to be yoked with the Savior and allow Him to shoulder some of the load, instead of demanding that there be no load. And though almost all the work done is not being done by me, I feel strong, I feel brave and I feel whole.
Monday, June 02, 2008
Now that it's June . . .
I thought I should do a post about Charlie turning one on May 3.
In June of 2006, I was holding a 7 month old Katie in my arms while listening to a talk at church. Everything was going fine when it suddenly happened -- I got this feeling, this overwhelming feeling that I needed to have a baby. I thought, "Um, hello. I have a baby, actually, already. See? The one sleeping in my arms? I've got this covered." But the feeling would not go away.
And so I proceeded to get pregnant two months later, destined to have children who were a mere 18 months apart. Honestly, it's not the hardest gig in the world. My mom had 5 kids in 5 1/2 years. There are all these people running around who have 2,3, 6 kids at a time. Having two closely-spaced children and a much older one who is a terrific helper should not be all that scary. But I was terrified. Completely chicken. I admit that sometimes I did not feel all that happy about being pregnant.
These feelings persisted even after getting my first good look at the little tike and finding out for sure he was Charlie and not a Lucy. But the problem wasn't really the baby. It was me. I felt all wrong for the task at hand. Someone else should have been taking on the challenge of this new life. But it was a little late for that to be an option.
I alternated between being excited and just very, very anxious almost all the time. I didn't share my trepidation too much because it just felt wrong not to be elated all the time.
Finally, Charlie came into the world. Each labor is different and this one included some neat firsts for me. It was the first time I could feel my contractions to push (my epidurals in the past had been VERY effective); it was the first time I could feel my child coming out of my body; and it was the first time my baby was put onto my chest right away, before being whisked away for cleaning, measuring, etc.
As I think back on that experience, I cannot help but cry. I don't have the words to express the emotions that I felt as that life just slid out of my body and into the world. And then when they placed that little boy on my chest, all I could think was, "he's mine, he's mine." I knew Charlie belonged with me.
And now when I think back on all the fear I experienced before I met Charlie, it all seems like so much foolishness. There has never been an easier baby to care for in all the world. He started sleeping through the night at six weeks old. He barely ever cries. He is my only baby who was ever happy to just hang out in a bouncy seat. He eats everything (including anything he can find on the ground). He is mellow, laid back, and content. He can entertain himself without any seeming need for attention, but when there is playing afoot, he jumps in wholeheartedly, chasing brother and sister about and jumping on mom and dad.
And have I mentioned he's gorgeous? Nothing could have prepared me for what a handsome lad he would be. He was a cute baby, but the older he gets, the cuter he becomes.
And he is so loved. Katie and Alek adore him. Alek especially is so happy to have a little brother. And Charlie just lights up whenever Katie and Alek walk into a room. Besides teaching our children the gospel, I feel like the greatest gift Josh and I could have ever given them was each other. I'm so glad we did. And I hope we are not done with our giving.
I'm so grateful for that feeling that wouldn't go away, that feeling that I needed to cast aside my notions of the "right time" and trust in the Lord's timing. I can't imagine my life without Charlie and the joy that he brings. So a belated happy birthday to the boy who constantly reminds me that I'm much better off when I listen to the Lord instead of myself.
On his actual birthday.
His first taste of cake, at his party two days after his birthday. (It didn't turn him into a demonic monster, I just don't know how to fix the red eyes in photos yet.)
Charlie's puppy dog cake. Charlie reminds me of a dog so he got a puppy party.
And a video for good measure. On Charlie's actual birthday.
In June of 2006, I was holding a 7 month old Katie in my arms while listening to a talk at church. Everything was going fine when it suddenly happened -- I got this feeling, this overwhelming feeling that I needed to have a baby. I thought, "Um, hello. I have a baby, actually, already. See? The one sleeping in my arms? I've got this covered." But the feeling would not go away.
And so I proceeded to get pregnant two months later, destined to have children who were a mere 18 months apart. Honestly, it's not the hardest gig in the world. My mom had 5 kids in 5 1/2 years. There are all these people running around who have 2,3, 6 kids at a time. Having two closely-spaced children and a much older one who is a terrific helper should not be all that scary. But I was terrified. Completely chicken. I admit that sometimes I did not feel all that happy about being pregnant.
These feelings persisted even after getting my first good look at the little tike and finding out for sure he was Charlie and not a Lucy. But the problem wasn't really the baby. It was me. I felt all wrong for the task at hand. Someone else should have been taking on the challenge of this new life. But it was a little late for that to be an option.
I alternated between being excited and just very, very anxious almost all the time. I didn't share my trepidation too much because it just felt wrong not to be elated all the time.
Finally, Charlie came into the world. Each labor is different and this one included some neat firsts for me. It was the first time I could feel my contractions to push (my epidurals in the past had been VERY effective); it was the first time I could feel my child coming out of my body; and it was the first time my baby was put onto my chest right away, before being whisked away for cleaning, measuring, etc.
As I think back on that experience, I cannot help but cry. I don't have the words to express the emotions that I felt as that life just slid out of my body and into the world. And then when they placed that little boy on my chest, all I could think was, "he's mine, he's mine." I knew Charlie belonged with me.
And now when I think back on all the fear I experienced before I met Charlie, it all seems like so much foolishness. There has never been an easier baby to care for in all the world. He started sleeping through the night at six weeks old. He barely ever cries. He is my only baby who was ever happy to just hang out in a bouncy seat. He eats everything (including anything he can find on the ground). He is mellow, laid back, and content. He can entertain himself without any seeming need for attention, but when there is playing afoot, he jumps in wholeheartedly, chasing brother and sister about and jumping on mom and dad.
And have I mentioned he's gorgeous? Nothing could have prepared me for what a handsome lad he would be. He was a cute baby, but the older he gets, the cuter he becomes.
And he is so loved. Katie and Alek adore him. Alek especially is so happy to have a little brother. And Charlie just lights up whenever Katie and Alek walk into a room. Besides teaching our children the gospel, I feel like the greatest gift Josh and I could have ever given them was each other. I'm so glad we did. And I hope we are not done with our giving.
I'm so grateful for that feeling that wouldn't go away, that feeling that I needed to cast aside my notions of the "right time" and trust in the Lord's timing. I can't imagine my life without Charlie and the joy that he brings. So a belated happy birthday to the boy who constantly reminds me that I'm much better off when I listen to the Lord instead of myself.
On his actual birthday.
His first taste of cake, at his party two days after his birthday. (It didn't turn him into a demonic monster, I just don't know how to fix the red eyes in photos yet.)
Charlie's puppy dog cake. Charlie reminds me of a dog so he got a puppy party.And a video for good measure. On Charlie's actual birthday.
What Happens When You Stay Up Too Late?
You scroll through your sister's blog, looking at the faces of her beautiful children who you wish your kids could grow up with and cry over photographs of your siblings and parents who you miss terribly.
And then you write a post about it.
And then you write a post about it.
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