sweet disorder

happy 5th birthday

happy birthday skyler west.

for your mommy date you asked to go to grandma nut's and watch t.v. with me.  you choose that over every thing i suggested. 

this weekend when we asked what your favorite meal was (for your sunday birthday dinner) you said, "bronwyn, what's your favorite?" and then, "davis, what's your favorite."  you did the same with your cake.

when we were brainstorming your date for this month, you planned to have bronwyn and davis come with you. 

you love people.  you love playing with friends.  you love your family.  and everyone adores you right back. 

i've never gotten around to making you a scrapbook.  a couple of weeks ago you wanted to see when your "finger almost got cut off."  i felt terrible that i didn't have any pictures to show you--and then i remembered i did.  i actually had quite a few, on this blog.  you snuggled up in my bed with me and we looked at picture after picture and you would ask, "was i two?" 

now you are five.

last week, late at night, you cried in my bed that talking time was over.  and you cried harder that it was the last day of preschool. 

you love playmobil guys, and army guys.  you can play for hours setting up battles, as long as i am within eyesight. 

you sleep on a chair in our bedroom, perhaps forever scarred by watching "super eight."  it will be for your what "cujo" the rabid dog was for me at that age. 

you love to have your back tickled.  you love stories.  you sing in the bathroom.  you are picky about your socks.  you love your primary teachers. 

five years ago, on memorial day, my water broke at 5:30 in the morning or so.  grandma nut came over to watch bronwyn and davis while we went the hosptial (just blocks away).  you came in the early afternoon (so dr. parker could still make his memorial day bbq).  i'm so grateful that you were in the big guy's plans for our family.   we love your guts.

now and then. . .

i've received more than a few emails wondering if i am okay.  my blog has been dormant and that usually means i'm in the depths of despair or pregnant (don't confuse the two). 

no, neither of those.

just good, happy, busy. 

soccer.  soccer.  baseball.  talking time.  preschool. piano.  volunteering at school.  young women's.  volleyball.  tim as elder's quorum president.  activity days.  bronwyn--auditions and now rehearsals (and the emotions that come with it) for the community production of annie.  kid dates.  tim dates.  gardening.  nutrition group.  herb-making.  making beds and doing dishes.  reading a fantastic trilogy.  cooking.  shopping.  and trying to remember all the things i forgot. 

then. . .

my kids shall be hilarious--because they have a lot of both.

(pic by skyler west). 

just because. . .

releasing our impossible burdens

brian kershisnik, "night's impossible burden"

 

"Healing can occur in the present only when we allow ourselves to feel, express, and release emotional and unmet needs from the past that we have suppressed or tried to forget.  I call this emotional incision and drainage.  I’ve often likened this deep process to treatment of an abscess.  Any surgeon knows that the treatment of an abscess is to cut it open, allowing the pus to drain.  When this is done, the pain goes away almost immediately, and new healthy tissue can re-form where the abscess once was.  It is the same with emotions:  They, too, become walled off, causing pain and absorbing energy if we do not experience and release them. 

Children release emotion naturally and immediately, and each of us is born with the innate ability to do this.  Yet because our culture worships emotional control and extols the virtues of suffering in silence, we learn early on how to suppress our natural emotional releases, and also to distance the messages behind them.  When a woman is having panic attacks or crying spells, I know that some emotional material is coming to the surface to be processed.  To observers who haven’t experienced deep process (or emotional release), she may appear to be ‘losing it,’ ‘going off the deep end,’ or ‘getting out of control.’  She is not ‘out of control,’ however; she is simply allowing a healing process to arise within the body.  Only the intellect has lost control—it has taken a backseat to the innate wisdom of the body.

Too often, health care providers prescribe drugs in cases like this.  As a result, a woman’s natural healing process can get stagnated for months or years.  And even if drugs are not prescribed, most people in our culture are uncomfortable with the emotions that arise when they are watching another person feel her emotions.  They therefore rush to comfort the person who is beginning to cry or ‘lose it.’  This stops the person’s emotional process at the same time protects the comforter from feeling his or her own feelings.  The healing process stops for both of them.

On the other hand, if the woman is encouraged to stay with what she’s feelings, to go into it, to make the sounds she needs to make, and to cry or yell as long as necessary, staying completely with her innermost self, she’ll often discover that her body has the innate ability to heal even very painful memories and events from the past.  When we are willing to be with what is instead of running away from it, we will often be able to work through painful experiences that have lain dormant and taken up our energy for years.  Stephen Levine, a meditation teacher. . .calls this experience ‘the pain that ends all pain.”  

When we have allowed ourselves a full emotional release, we end up experiencing compassion for the hurting part of us that has been crying out for acknowledgment and validation.  As adults, we come to realize that we now have the skills and strength to get those unmet needs of long ago met directly.  As a result our body, mind and spirit feel cleansed and free.  Insights come up and long-buried self-understanding returns.  I’ve watched people forgive themselves and others after deep process work because they are finally at peace with painful events in their pasts.  This can happen even after years of intellectualizing that never really healed them.  They naturally lighten up and are eventually able to laugh at themselves and their pasts.”  Christian Northrup, M.D., Women’s Bodies, Women’s Wisdom (an awesome 800+ page book that i highly suggest reading).

 

 

"stand where you are and live"

 

"So, may I plead with anyone out there who may need to hear this - do not idolize that which you don't have.  Coveting and envy is the energy of ignoring whatever it is that you have.  It's the energy of desiring to have your circumstances (or other people) control your wellness.  If you find yourself idolizing someone else's life or marriage, let that be a gentle reminder to you to reassess.

And, if you covet anything, covet character.  Rejoice in someone else's good marriage and wisdom and say:  I will learn from them; I will follow their path; I will use my own marriage to develop those skills & virtues for myself.  You can develop character no matter what state your spouse is in, no matter what your spouse does.  If you choose to pursue virtues, you'll come out on top.  

To sum it up...

'Stand where you are & LIVE.'"  --Mara, "ABlogaboutLove

 

"Coveting and envy is the energy of ignoring what you have."  i have never thought of that in that way before.  It rang so true for me when i read it.  down to my belly, life-stopping true. 

the last day and a half i have spent in the space of the "wanties."  it all started with a little trip down the garden aisle at costco.  a solar powered blue mosaic globe light?  oh my!  bronze basket solar powered lights.  oh my!  outdoor chair cushions.  oh my!  solar powered light stakes.  OH MY!  and the wanties grew and grew and grew.  and i wandered down the book aisle, the clothes asile.  and the two pack yoga pants grinned at me.  and the wanties grew and GREW.  and they extended their flabby arms and got my attention.  and then it wasn't just "stuff" it was driving down the street looking at all the beautiful flowers i couldn't have in my own yard without an eight-foot fence.  and i still wanted chickens i thought angrily--realizing later that i had forgotten our current pet for an unintentional sleepover at dale and lynett's.  and then it didn't rest and woke up with me the next day.  and it was circumstances.  things i wanted.  like no more speech for both boys next year.  or a maid.  always a maid. 

and i was grumpy and breathless at my wants.  and i realized i was spending so much energy ignoring what i have.  it's that fine line between motivation to be/do better and underwater discouragement of self fault-finding.  even giving a gift was hard.  i actually measured out my gift.  and then put it in a smaller container.  and then asked skyler for his advice.  did i give the big one or the small one?  he chose the big, of course.  and i measured out the big one.  and read mosiah 4 in answer to my prayer of gift-giving.  out of my abundance i have been given, how could i not give? 

lilacs, notes on cars, lunch date, baby-sitting, lavender eye pillow, just-ordered-for-me books at the bookmobile, a surprise wonderful book at the library, and three children fighting over what to give me for mother's day.  i avert my eyes and ears at least eight times a day.

and last night.  at midnight.  with my house asleep a thunderstorm struck.  i crept outside, in my robe.  and sat on the white rocking chair.  watching.  listening.  smelling.  breathing.  and it was a little private moment for me and god.  hey, i'm out here.  enjoying.  i wondered if anyone else was doing the same in my sleepy little city.  i like to think i was the only one, noticing and appreciating.  a private little moment between us.  where i said, "thanks.  it's beautiful.  so beautiful."  and i crept back inside.  woke up tim.  kissed him goodnight.  snuggled up and went to sleep.  full.  

acknowledging gifts

brian kershisnik

 

tim lost a button on his blazer.  i bought eight new buttons--with the intention to replace every button so they would match.  i knew saturday was a crazy day, the day he would pick up his dry-cleaning (two soccer games, youth temple activity, ward dinner, volleyball tournament) and i knew i would be up late sewing on buttons for a 9:00 meeting.

tim tried on his blazer and to our amazement there was a new button.  it wasn't an exact match--but you'd have to be examining it pretty closely to tell.  a gift.  perhaps an hour of my time gained by the shiny little replica. 

i think these little blessings are my assurances that i can also do the things that our family has been recently asking to do.  to expect miracles--to open up time, or hearts, or talents that we can accomplish the things we are asked to do.  because, often, on paper it does not add up.  but the desire to go to the temple, support our ward, support our children,  and be on time to church (looking pressed and sharp) added up with a little golden gift. 

those are the little gifts i have started to notice.  although, i have not been daily recording them.  so here is a beginning of an accounting of a few gifts recently given (there are still more to record).

invitation to a sunday dinner.  baby-sitting so tim and i could attend the temple.  two nice soccer coaches.  a kind new piano teacher.  parents who volunteered to pay for my kids' lessons this year.  rides to baseball practice from a neighbor.  an easter party.  a new-to-her bike for bronwyn.  a tube in the bike from grandpa dale.  a clean kitchen (again and again) from tim.  two beautiful classes taught by good friends.  a signed book for davis and tim to read together.  a link to a great article.  a great priced diffuser when mine had just broken.  an essential oil i had wanted to try.  support of a friend.  bronwyn doing the dishes without being asked.  davis wrapped up a couple of dollars to give tim and i (so sweet)--we said it was just enough to rent a redbox and make some popcorn--a perfect date.  skyler gives me more pictures than i can hang on the fridge. 

and a sweet necklace with binnoculars--as a reminder to "see" the tender mercies in our lives. 

"Lord’s tender mercies do not occur randomly or merely by coincidence. Faithfulness, obedience, and humility invite tender mercies into our lives, and it is often the Lord’s timing that enables us to recognize and treasure these important blessings."  President Bednar, "The Tender Mercies of the Lord"

elder bednar, in his talk, discusses how we can become "chosen" to receive tender mercies.  i love the above painting.  the angels all seem to be about some other business, but one angel is reaching down his hand in a blessing--because the man is looking up to receive one.  i think if the opposite view could be shown--a host of people looking forward with perhaps only one looking up.  or perhaps a host looking one direction and only one looking back in acknowledgement.  so today, i acknowledge the miracle of the golden button. 

the ten lepers by james christensen (thanks for the gift of a new friend who introduced this painting to me)

 

as i look at this painting, thinking of the story, i wonder again HOW could those nine not also thank the master?  and then i think of two things i have been thinking/worrying/praying about with bronwyn's health.  and one more thing that i am currently thinking/worrying/praying about.  and maybe six weeks ago i realized one of them was gone--and i had kind of forgotten to notice it.  and this weekend i thought of another thing that was also gone.  funny, that it was so noticable when it was there--but when it had taken its leave i couldn't pinpoint a time that it had last been there.  i wonder how many of my prayers are like that--desperate--and then its removed and i fail to even notice the timing--often because i may have given up on it or started my next desperate prayers for the next thing. my first thought, was to call a friend about my exciting revelation.  and then the thought occured to me, perahps i should say a prayer first.  man, i'm no better than those nine lepers.  perhaps our prayer of thanks should be as desperate as our prayers for healing had been. 

unfinished

unfinished lovers (medium) by brian kershisnik

"Our Savior has spoken so clearly on this subject that there is little room for private interpretation. “I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive,” but then He said, “… of you it is required to forgive all men.” ^{. . .}

We must recognize that we are all imperfect—that we are beggars before God. Haven’t we all, at one time or another, meekly approached the mercy seat and pleaded for grace? Haven’t we wished with all the energy of our souls for mercy—to be forgiven for the mistakes we have made and the sins we have committed?

Because we all depend on the mercy of God, how can we deny to others any measure of the grace we so desperately desire for ourselves? My beloved brothers and sisters, should we not forgive as we wish to be forgiven? . . .

Brothers and sisters, let us put down our stones.

Let us be kind.

Let us forgive.

Let us talk peacefully with each other.

Let the love of God fill our hearts.

“Let us do good unto all men.”¹³

The Savior promised: “Give, and it shall be given unto you; good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over. … For with the same measure that [you use] it shall be measured to you again.”¹⁴

Shouldn’t this promise be enough to always focus our efforts on acts of kindness, forgiveness, and charity instead of on any negative behavior?"--President Uchtdorf, "The Merciful Obtain Mercy." 

these last few days i have been thinking about the gifts that i can truly give.  i've been thinking about my will, my cheerfulness, and my forgiveness. 

isn't that scripture lovely GIVE and it shall be given unto you.  that's the funny thing about this project.  as soon as i give, it comes right back.  two-fold, four-fold.  i remember standing in the aisle choosing a gift for someone(s) who i had felt had harmed me.  i stood there.  and it was if there was a tree with scraggly roots, rooted right there in my chest and i felt it being pulled.  it was painful and strange.  and it didn't feel natural.  "this is deep." was all i could think.  and i gave my gift.  and i felt this amazing sense of self-worth.  i could do hard things.  i could rise above my natural inclinations.  i could change.  that is powerful stuff.  that was my gift that day.  and then, just days later a literal gift was returned to me.  tied with a fancy bow.  it hadn't been measured exactly--the gift i received was more than i gave. 

good measure.  pressed down.  i imagine cooking.  pressing down raw shredded coconut.  i imagine the fun bronwyn has when i let her measure in a heeping, mounded way.  there is so much fun in the exactness of leveling off the the back edge of a butter knife--but so much freedom in adding a heaping cup of ground wheat to feed "manna" (our natual yeast starter).  tim always laughs at the mess i make when i feed "manna."  flour all over the counter. running over.

this is the way we have been asked, commanded, to forgive. 

i had to ask a neighbor for forgiveness this month.  in behalf of our dog and their lawn.  i was terribly nervous, sick really.  i kept thinking about 'forgiveness flour" feeling that perhaps i needed to be carrying a cup to their doorstep.  wondering what would be extended.  what a relief when i received a hug, and a laugh, and a kind word.  and we were in every way in the wrong. 

i love kershisnik's work, because it portrays so many unseen angels hovering close in our every day decisions.  that grace, the bit of forgiveness that seems impossible for us to root out, they are there--rooting for us, holding the olive branch over our heads, because they care about us.  how we feel.   i love the uncertainty in his eyes--that moment when you are on your neighbor's porch, waiting.  how beautiful her posture of reaching and assurance--that neighbor offering comfort to me for the wrongs we committed.  i love the title "unfinished romance."  aren't we all unfinished?

who am i to cast the first stone?  to withhold measure?  when i need it.  when i ask for it.  when i am never denied it. 

"a difficult place to go"

President Harold B. Lee counseled, “The most important of all the commandments of God is that one that you are having the most difficulty keeping today.”

this gift project is pointing me in some difficult places to go.  it is a primer, a text, a class in raising my self-test score.  a rooting out.  a replacing.  last year, in my year of gratitude i felt that my eyes had been opened.  this year, i feel like it is a chance for my heart to open. 

the gift of optimism

"Optimism is true moral courage."
— Ernest Shakelton

easter sunday

 yesterday, as we were driving, davis pointed out a large house on a hill.  "i wish we lived there."  i told him i certainly didn't.  too much house to take care of.  i was struggling with to keep up house--i didn't need to quadruple it.  davis said, "i would clean my room if i lived there."  i laughed and we "argued" back and forth.  "yes, i would!"  "no, you wouldn't!"  i asked him why he thought he would take care of more.  and i explained the concept of stewardship and reminded him that he was steward of his current room. 

and as we were laughing and arguing back and forth about his mansion dreams i thought of how often we may wish for another situation.  thinking we would somehow take care of it better than our current stewardship.

one gift i hope to give my children is optimism.  i wish to set down my bags labeled--worried, and rushed--because they seem to be suffocating the ones labeled slow& easy and fun. 

this week's gifts: "the widow's mite"

art by james christensen

 

i love this picture.  always have.  i cut it out from an ensign.  and i wanted it to be the center of a "vision board" on courage.  but i didn't want to glue it on.  so i kind of just tucked it.  i took it to church for a lesson and when i got home it was gone.  it must have fluttered away in the wind while i was walking home.

and i was sad.  because, you see the print is about $5,000.  i checked at a gallery years ago.  fully expecting to come home with one.  i didn't.  so i hung on to that little 3X4 magazine clipping.

last week, a sweet woman at a party i was invited to gave each attendee a real widow's mite.  i had always wanted one. 

sometimes we have a vision for a long time.  and just when it seems to flutter away in the wind and we stand empty-handed--the real thing is placed in our palm.

i've been reading and studying this morning in preparation for my easter sunday yw lesson.  i have also been trying to plan some christ-centered family activities for tomorrow.  i sent out an email call for ideas to some friends and within minutes rachel sent me a link.  i loved this author's thoughts on palms.  palms were a symbol of luxuries and necessities.  what can we offer as our palm--a sacrifice a the feet on the savior this easter.  ultimately, we have our own palms.  the service of our hands.

i've always loved the above depiction of the widow--because she is young.  the widow is often portrayed as old.  but this widow i can relate to.  unexpected burdens.  but she is strong and serene and sincere and she stretches out her palm.  her offering.  her tiny mite. 

for family night we talked about the story of the widow's mite.  we watched this new video. i showed my family the picture and the mite.  davis took it to school the next day for show'n'tell.  and we watched "the john tanner story" (an amazing story of an early saint who gave his fortune to the church--and actually saved the temple from bankrupcy).  on my doorstep that day a guy came selling church videos to finance some radio equipment for his lds podcasts.  before i even knew what he was selling i told him, "i don't want to waste your time--i'll tell you right now i'm not buying anything."  i felt stingy.  and close-hearted. and i felt that "gift" pull.   and then he pulled out some church produced d&c videos.  and i handed over a little cash.  and it was the perfect video for family night.  funny, how often i "give" a gift and it really is a gift for me. 

these last couple weeks have been really hard for me to give gifts.  i feel like i entered a "phase two."  phase one was easy and fun.  phase two is really stretching me and saying, "let me teach you about true gifts.  real gifts.  ebooks are fun. . .but these gifts will stretch you."  and i can only think of one true gift this week. 

because i felt a literal rooting out of my heart (and it felt painful) as i thought about the gift i needed to give.  i felt that same pain after listening to president uchtdorf's talk, "the merciful obtain mercy."  frankly, i couldn't listen to the rest of conference on sunday.  i have never felt pricked at conference before.  and i may have been a little grumpy about it.  so i prayed to raise my score--so i could pass president uchtdorf's test.  you see, i scored about 20%.  so, a few days later i had my chance.  i had felt hurt and offended and embrassed by a situation.  and my gut feeling was to avoid and ignore and pout and withdraw.  and it took a lot of prayer and a beautiful stroke of inspiration to turn that around.  and it literally did.  it seems i would have closed a door to a friend and an opportunity to grow and learn. 

those are my widow's mites.  small, often misshapened offerings--lying warm in my outstretched palm.