A Birthday Present for My Father

My dad, goofing around with me at the San Diego Zoo

I’ve been trying all day to figure out what to write in tribute to my dad, who would have been 68 today. As one of the most significant people in my life and as a good father and man, it does not seem right to just let the day pass without a word or two on my blog, the journal of my life. My thoughts have been along a certain vein, but I am finding it difficult to put my musings into coherent written language. So please forgive me if I stumble through this.

Yesterday, this song made me think about my dad:

It’s the gospel and I love it.
Why not share it with my brother?

See the joy within me shine in someone else’s eyes.

In December of 1961, my father was baptized a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. He wouldn’t have become a member of the church without his friends inviting him to church activities and picking him up for church on Sunday. And he wouldn’t have become a member of the church without two young men who took two years out of their lives to go teach the gospel to strangers who they understood were their brothers and sisters.

My dad was not raised in the best of circumstances. If he’d grown up to be a criminal, there would have been a lot of people who would have said, “well, of course, look at such and such in his past.” But he didn’t grow up to be a criminal. He was a good kid. He was a good kid before he joined the church. So his story isn’t one about the most depraved of individuals doing a 180. Instead, his is a story of how the gospel of Jesus Christ made a good kid into a great man. And how the gospel of Jesus Christ helped a boy with a painful past become a man with a joyous present and a glorious future.

I know that it was through the church that my dad discovered a true and lasting joy. He found it through entering the temple and making covenants with a beautiful young woman and building a life on the foundation of an eternal marriage. He found it through having children and teaching them the truths he held dear. He found it through serving his fellow man as a priesthood holder and disciple of Christ. He found it through a testimony of living prophets and a determination to follow their counsel. And he found joy by developing a personal relationship with his Savior and putting the atonement to work in his life.

My dad, by the way, was not perfect. But he was a good man and I saw him grow and change and become better over the years as he continued to put gospel principles into practice in his life.

I’ve been struggling with feelings of depression lately and in church back in December, a thought came to me – I need to rediscover the joy in living the gospel. Not that I’ve been living the gospel and feeling miserable. The problem is I haven’t been living the gospel. Have I been going to church and teaching my Young Women’s lessons and going to mutual on Wednesday nights and paying my tithing and having family prayer? Sure. But have I been living the gospel? Has the gospel been in my heart or have I just been going through the motions? I am sorry to say that for a while now, I have just been going through the motions. I have been doing things without purpose, without intent and with too often selfish motives. And there’s no joy in that. I’ve been thinking of the gospel as a to-do list too much and as a way of being too little. The gospel of Jesus Christ is ultimately about who we are, not about what we do. When we are who we are supposed to be, the things we are supposed to do will come naturally. As my Young Women’s president has been saying, if our hearts get there first, the rest of us will follow.

My dad’s favorite scripture was 3 John 1:4, “I have no greater joy than to hear that my children walk in truth.” My father knew that if his children walked in truth, they would have joy. And as any loving parent can affirm, your children’s joys are your joys, just as your children’s sorrows are your sorrows. My birthday gift to my dad this year is to pledge to do a better job of walking in the truth. I want you to be happy, Daddy, so I am going to be happy, too.

Love you.

UPDATE: My mom is amazing. My dad was pretty smart to marry her.

My Husband

It was Josh's birthday last week, and I failed to write about him here. I love him very much. Did you know that? I may have mentioned it once or twice before. He would deny just about any of the good things I might say about him, but I hope he will at least cop to being this: a good man.

There's something very powerful to me about that phrase, "a good man." Refreshingly, Josh is content with being a good man. He has no need for greatness in the way that some do -- no need for power or recognition. Of course, that is part of his goodness. Also refreshing: he is good because it's the right thing to be, because that's what he wants and makes him happy, and because it is what God expects. He is not good so that others will like him or praise him. There are very few people whose good opinion he seeks and most of them live under this roof. Because he does not need approval from others, he is free to be very honest about who he is, what he feels and what he cares about.

Some of you may know that in addition to being a good man, Josh is also a very silly one. But I don't know that anyone but me really knows just how silly he is. If you could have seen the funny way he was dancing yesterday in our living room . . . I will admit that occasionally I find his silliness annoying. Sometimes I want him to be serious and he simply won't read my mind and comply with my unspoken wish. The nerve. However, most of the time I find his silliness delightful. Josh makes me laugh, and his laugh makes me smile with my heart.

Many people say they feel things deeply, but what they really mean is that they cry a lot (e.g., me). Josh, on the other hand, has deep feelings. They are not easily shared or expressed. They are a deep-down, in his bones kind of thing. Josh, for instance, has a hard time sharing his testimony, but his faith is very strong. It is also, in many ways, quite simple, by which I mean, he doesn't muddy up the gospel or his relationship with God with any nonsense. He doesn't make having faith or living the gospel hard, which I think many of us have a tendency to do. When Josh expresses trust in the Lord, it's not lip service or a wish overshadowed by lingering doubt. Of course, nothing that comes out of Josh's mouth is ever just lip service. Josh does not say things he doesn't mean or doesn't believe.

I've known Josh for over six years now and have been married to him almost as long. My love for him during that time has become something indescribable. My appreciation for him has grown. There is great joy in being his wife. In times past, I questioned if I did the right thing in marrying him. We met and dated and got engaged and then married in a matter of just eleven weeks. It all happened so fast and when times got hard I would wonder if I'd been one of those fools who rush in. It's been a long time since I've wondered that.

On December 30th, we celebrated our 5th sealing anniversary. I remember the temple worker who helped us with all our paperwork that day telling us that he had a good feeling about us. I have a good feeling about us, too.

Barkers' First Fake Christmas

We celebrated Christmas early this year, so Alek could celebrate with us. Below are the pictures from Christmas morning, or December 22 as it was known to the rest of the world.

Our stockings are hanging from the garland . . .

because those stocking hook things were too expensive.

Notice how sparsely decorated our tree is.

There is a simple three word reason for this:

Charlie and Fitz.

Josh received one of his Christmas presents on fake Christmas Eve.

Once again, it was a Star Wars heavy Christmas.

 

We had to get the C-3PO Christmas bobble head to match our Yoda one.

 

Katie was most excited about this $1 frying pan.

Charlie showed his usual enthusiasm for these types of celebrations.

Fitz was also thrilled.

Later, the kids all enjoyed their spoils. And I went to work.

 

 

 

Although it was pretty weird to have Christmas early, I am glad we started this tradition. This year, Alek will be with us for the holidays and we will observe Christmas on the correct days. But in 2011, we'll have another early Christmas. And I will make sure to take the day off work.

UPDATE: I forgot to mention that Fitz took his first steps on our fake Christmas morning. He's worked his way up to about four steps at a time. I expect he'll be walking everywhere within the next month or two.

Here's to 2009

I have to say, I am glad to see 2009 go. However, it's hard to say why. 2009 has been a year full of blessings for me and my family -- Fitz came into the world; we got to take a family vacation to Utah; at a time when so many others are out of work, I got a raise and promotion; we moved into a real (although small) house and now enjoy the luxuries of a washer and dryer, a yard, and a garage; and Josh finally got work as a comic book artist. We have, without a doubt, been tremendously, tremendously blessed.

So why so glum, chum? It's a question I have been asking myself all year. I've been struggling with my emotions. I am often sad for no apparent reason. I frequently lack motivation. Dare I say it? I have been depressed! But why?

Part of it, I know, and have known all year, is because I am not doing the things I need to do to maintain equilibrium in my life -- consistently reading my scriptures, praying sincerely daily, frequently attending the temple. Without doing those things, I find it is harder for me to function and especially to function happily.

But this week, I have come to realize, there is more to it. I won't go into all the details, mainly because I cannot find the words, but I am finally coming face to face with the fact that I am sad that Charlie is autistic. I have been trying to prevent myself from being sad. I have felt guilty about being unhappy about this disorder because then I feel like I am being unhappy about Charlie. So for months I've stuffed my feelings down; occasionally, they would surface and I would push them away as quickly as I could. But I have come to realize this week that I need to allow myself to grieve. I think life is hard for Charlie. I think he often feels frustrated because he isn't getting what he needs and I am often frustrated because I don't know what he needs. I don't know what he wants and I don't know how to explain things to him. I don't know how to make him understand that we're not trying to hurt him when we bathe him or that we're only taking the scissors away from him to keep him safe. I know these things are hard to explain to all two year olds. But what if Charlie is never able to understand these things? That's a possibility.

We don't know how severe Charlie's autism is. We cannot predict what Charlie's capabilities will be. I hate not knowing. I've been trying to tell myself all year that Charlie's condition is not that bad. I've been relying on him being able to one day have normal conversation and go to school and read and have a job. But I have to face that those things may not be possible for him. I want Charlie to be able to have friends, I want him to be independent, I want him to go on a mission and get married. And the further we get on that list of my wants for him, the less likely it is that those things will happen. And it just is devastating to me. And I feel horrible for being devastated. Why do I feel so bad for feeling so bad? I don't know. But I need to stop pretending like everything is okay. I have to deal with my feelings. I won't really be okay until I do.

And that is one of my many, many goals for 2010.

On a happier note, I have four of the cutest kids in the known universe. I am glad we were able to get their pictures professionally taken, even though it didn't go quite as I planned and I ended up spending way more than I should have. Oh, well. Look at how cute they are: