Service in the church

I walked into the chapel with a frown on my face. I’m not sure I’m up for this, I thought. Sitting through an hour plus of Sacrament Meeting with 5 kids and then wrangling other people’s kids in nursery for 2 more hours seemed like more than I could handle. Especially after the morning I’d had. Yet, here I was, walking into the chapel, practically asking for it.

I unloaded my bag and children onto the pew and listened to the prelude music. Now that’s a cushy calling, I thought, if I had someone to sit with my kids. I wouldn’t mind that calling. I noticed a friend walk in with her four very young children. She serves in the sunbeams. I’m sure she feels the same way I do, I guess.  And that sister over there, I tell myself, is going through some pretty intense trials right now. I wouldn’t trade my calling for what she’s going through. Just then my good friend who is Young Women’s President walked down the aisle. There’s no way I would trade for her calling, I thought. Come to think of it, I continued my private dialog in my head, I’m not sure there is a calling I would trade for. If all the callings were laid out in front of me today, I’m not sure I would pick any of them. I’m pretty much just tired of serving. How about no callings? I cheered to myself. I shook my head, feeling mildly sacrilegious and guilty for my train of thought as the prelude music came to a close.

The 1^st counselor in the bishopric stood to begin the meeting. “I’m Brother Finken. Bishop Brown is presiding at this meeting.” My eyes filled with tears. This is just too much. This burden is just too heavy. My husband presides over this meeting. He presides over this ward. And it’s been a long time and I’m tired of it. I’m tired of it all. Can’t we just take a break? Why are we doing this? Why do we stretch ourselves so thin sometimes in church callings? What’s the purpose of all these callings? Why not come for the sacrament and leave? Isn’t that the main point? Why all the extra work?

Lost in my doubtful thoughts, I was startled when the organist began playing the introduction to the sacrament hymn.  I mechanically pulled the hymnbook from the back of the pew in front of me, although I didn’t feel like singing.  “Oh how lovely was the morning. Radiant beamed the sun above.” But I knew these words. I didn’t need to open the book.  “Humbly kneeling, sweet appealing-  T’was the boy’s first uttered prayer-” Had I uttered a prayer this morning? I wondered. Could my doubts and discouragement be considered a prayer? Did Heavenly Father hear me, today, in this chapel?   “Suddenly a light descended, brighter far than noon day sun.”  I was suddenly overwhelmed with emotion. Though offered with intention or not, God had heard me and answered my prayer. He responded in full Spirit to my faltering faith and determination. He did hear me in the middle of this chapel, lost in the middle of my doubt.

“Joseph, this is my Beloved. Hear Him!” Oh, how sweet the word.” My doubt was swept away, only to be replaced with comfort, love and devotion. This is why we serve. Because God hears and answers prayers. We have living prophets on the earth and Joseph was the first of this dispensation. He restored the true and full gospel to the earth. This is why we serve, and I knew it with my whole heart. I serve because He asks me to. BecauseI love Him. Because it’s true. The Bible, the Book of Mormon, the First Vision, the Priesthood,the Harvest Hills 2^nd Ward. It’s all true and it all matters. It matters so much that it moves me to action and service in the church, even when it’s hard – especially when it’s hard.

“Oh, what rapture filled his bosom, for he saw the living God.”

Umbillicals

We all woke up with tummy aches. In exactly 2 hours, three of us would leave for the airport but only one of us would return.

A few months ago, Sydney received a letter in the mail from her Grandfather in Arizona. He invited her to come for a visit and help him with a few things around the house. With a little sweet talking, Sterling convinced me to endorse his purchase two plane tickets - one for Sydney and one for Camille. The plan: the two of them fly out to Arizona together, spend a few days helping Grandpa, then drive home with Grandpa and be here in time for our annual Apricot Ice Cream Festival.

With grumbling tummies, the girls and I left Kimber with the rest of the family and headed toward the airport. We parked the car in short-term parking and walked in the doors to the terminal. The first thing we saw was the moving sidewalk. The girls were thrilled. Much of their trepidation was eased at that point. Check-in was a breeze. They gave me a special folder of papers I carried with me that allowed me to be with the all the way to the gate. Security was long but easy. By the time we reached the gate, we had 45 minutes until boarding and we discovered that our nerves had settled enough to finally be hungry again. So we walked all the way back to McDonald's, using several moving side-walks. By the time I finally got their Happy Meals and back to the gate, they were calling our names. It was time to board.

They checked the girls in and looked at all the paperwork. Then a stewardess, beautiful enough to meet the girls' expectations, yet conservative enough to exude a motherly vibe motioned for the girls to follow her onto the plane. Camille followed her, practically skipping, into the connecting corrider into the plane. I hollered after her, begging her to come back and give me a kiss. She turned, waved and skipped around the corner and I couldn't see her anymore. Sydney came back and gave me a hug and a kiss and then followed Camille.

I stood staring at the empty opening into that corrider, trying to catch at least a glimpse of shadows of the girls who had just disappeared. Passengers continued to file onto the plane. A final warning call went over the intercom for a few passengers who were late. I was standing at the window when they closed the gate. The connecting corrider retracted from the airplane, like a severed umbilical cord. My little girls were on that plane and I watching my apron strings be cut before my eyes as the plane taxied away from the terminal and lifted off into the wide open sky.

Parker's birthday

Parker turned 9.

Wowzers. Sterling was already up in Ogden (where we went for the rodeo the next day.) 

Parker is a laugh a minute, full of energy, give it all you got, kind of guy.

He loves to be with his friends. He's always looking for someone to play with. When neighbors aren't available, he sometimes resorts to playing with his sisters and Bryce. Sydney even bought a lego set for herself so she could play legos with him. (Go ahead, say it, "Ahhhh.")  Something Parker and I have been enjoying lately is reading together at night. We are right at the climax of the first FableHaven book right now. I love laying down with him and reading and spending one on one time with him at the end of the day.

Parker is a very perceptive boy. He has a hard time expressing his feelings sometimes because they are so big for his little body and the emotions come through his body, sometimes agressively. But sometimes he is able to tell me exactly how he feels in a way that is so precise and expressive and perceptive that I am just impressed with his ability to pinpoint the feeling and why. I'm just sure there is a lot inside this boy that is going to continue to surprise and impress me.

HaPpY BiRtHdAy PaRkEr!!!!!

Another visitor - for the rodeo

This month we had another very special visitor. Cousin Kimberly!!!

In the recent summers, Kimber has come to visit for most of the month of July. She jumps around to different family member's homes. The week that we had her, we had a blast! We went to Thanksgiving Point Gardens and got caught in the rain. We went to the park and played tag.

We went to the Ogden Rodeo. The rodeo grounds are not in the best part of town. I was driving around residential streets, trying to find a place to park. Sterling pointed me to an area that had a chainlink fence in front of the house. So I started to pull up and this white, dumpy truck pulled up next to me. He rolled down his window and I saw his big afro and goatee first. He started yelling at me, "Hey! Dat's ma house! Dat's MA house!" I apologetically raise one hand and said, "No parking?" He said, "NO!!!" So I quickly pulled back out into the road and found another, more hospitable parking space.

This is Kimber and Park before the rodeo started. It was her first one. She doesn't know what to expect.

I noticed everyone looking up at a bird way high in the sky. I mean, way way high up there. Then all of a sudden the bird split into 4 more birds. Then the 4 new birds started doing a formation. I started to catch on at that point that the birds were actually parachuters. They were so fun to watch. Finally their parachutes opened and they landed in the arena with a flair. The final parachuter brought in the American Flag. It was great.

 While we had fun watching the rodeo....

Bryce was busy finding loose nuts and bolts on the bleachers and was well on his way to taking the whole thing apart before we noticed what he was doing.

Then we decided the bleachers weren't close enough and moved down to be closer.

At the end of the rodeo there was a motor bike demonstration. Those guys are crazy. That's all I have to say about that.

We also stopped by the Mount Timpanogos Temple.

Beautiful!

Kimber is wonderful. All the kids had a lot of fun with her. We loved every moment of being with her. THANKS FOR VISITING KIMBER!

Funny Story:  After the rodeo, we stayed the night at a hotel. In the morning we were walking along a sidewalk to get to the car. Suddenly I saw something coming at me from I don't know where and hit my wrist with enough force to push it back. I screamed and jumped back. I looked down, thinking it might have been a baby bird. All I saw was bird poop. I looked up and saw a bird. I looked down at my wrist and it was covered in bird poop, several inches thick. It was the most disgusting thing I have not only witnessed but been a part of. Nevertheless, Kimber, the kids and I laughed about it all the way home, despite my traumatization.

Book Review: Gap Creek

"Gap Creek" by Robert Morgan, is the story of a young girl named Julie, set in the Appalachian high country in the final years of the nineteenth century. We are introduced to her when her brother dies a horrible, quite graphic death in her arms. She soon loses her father as well as is burdened with assuming the responsibility of her father in taking care of the family farm. She is 15 when she is swept off her feet by Hank Richards. He marries her and takes her to live in a small cabin in Gap Creek where he rents a room from Mr. Pendergast in exchange for meals and upkeep of the place.

Julie’s story is one of hard work and heartbreak. Her life is a hard frontiering life . She quickly learns that marriage can be difficult as well. Things start out well for the marriage despite Mr. Pendergast demeaning treatment of Julie and often times crude remarks. The challenge of growing food and raising and slaughtering animals leads to a devastating accident that changes the course of their lives quite dramatically.

Julie’s story is one of work, love, determination and heartache. She is faced with hope and regret, in her decisions and handles most things with the maturity I know I didn’t have at 15 or 16 years of age. She is quite the amazing young lady. Julie’s inner strength somehow pulls her through her challenges. She relates it this way.

 “Then I took a bucket and rag and washed the floor. It made me feel strong to get down on my knees on those rough boards. It was like a morning prayer, kneeling on the cold boards and crawling backwards to rub away any dirt with the rag. As I scrubbed the floor I was s rubbing part of the world. And I was scrubbing my mind to make it clear. It was work that made me think clear, and it was work that made me humble. I could never talk fast, and I could never say what I meant to people, or tell them what they meant to me. My tongue never loosened my feelings. It was with my hands and with my back and shoulders that I could say how I felt. I had to talk with my arms and my strong hands.”

 She spends a lot of time alone in that cabin on Gap Creek until she opens her heart and home to the local Christian church. This part was a relief for me, to finally see her find the support of other women that she needed so desperately.

"The world wouldn't have lasted this long if women didn't help each other," Elizabeth said.
"The world would be a better place if people helped each other more," Joannes said.
That night as I laid in bed, I kept thinking about how kind Joanne and Elizabeth had been to me. It made me feel growed up and kind myself to be treated that way. It made me feel like I was a bigger person. They made me want to be better.

 The author does a fantastic job of getting inside a woman’s mind and describing those thoughts and feelings of connection and interaction that women have with one another. Another example of that is when Julie has her first baby, all by herself in the cabin. The description of labor and childbirth are so accurate and beautiful. I could relate to every word.

There were a few parts of the book that I didn’t care for. The scene of her brother dying was pretty graphic and gross. There are also several scenes of intimacy. Although they are between husband and wife and therefore moral, I still did not want to read about it and skipped as much as I could. If I were to recommend a book in this genre, I would recommend a different one. Although it was a good book, I can think of others I would recommend first.  

Spilled Milk

It was going to be a quick trip, which was a relief. After buckling 2-year-old Hash into hit seat, I pulled my short grocery list out of my purse and tried to decipher my chicken scratching. A few fruits and veggies, including watermelon, the most recent fruit of choice for the children. The requested Cheez-its for the campout. Replenish the milk, eggs and bread. I was positive I would relent on something little Rachel threw in the cart as well. She’s a pretty convincing four-year-old. And that was my list. Short and simple. In and out.

I opened the refrigerated door in the dairy aisle and reached for the milk. The second gallon slipped from my fingers, hit the wheel of the cart and cracked. Right in the middle of the smooth, plastic front, milk was seeping out, not fast enough to gush but definitely fast enough to start making a huge mess right away.

I was stunned as I looked at my foot, covered in milk. The milk puddled in my flip-flop and streamed onto the floor. I first thought about running to the storage area behind the refrigerated area but as I started to move, the trail of milk was making a bigger mess. I tried to lean the carton up against the glass door but it did nothing to stave the flow. I didn’t feel right about leaving to find someone because I had my 2-year old in the seat of the cart and my 4-year-old who has suddenly become extremely attached to me. “I don’t know what to do,” I said outloud in exasperation as milk continued to spill out over the floor.

I looked to my left and there was a young man dressed in a tie, picking up a carton of ice cream. He looked as if he could be the Elder’s Quorum president in my ward, probably in his mid-twenties with two young kids and a wife at home. Our eyes met and he offered a crooked, sympathetic smile and continued on his way. Based off his reaction, I imagine him thinking, “Wow. Stinks to be you right now.”

I looked down to check the milk and reconcile myself to his non-response to my plea for help. Someone approached from the right and I turned to see a teenage girl with very straight, very dark black hair and bright red lipstick. She told me her mom had just gone to find someone. I looked past the girl and saw her mother talking to a store employee who was stocking the yogurt, just a few yards from me. “Funny I didn’t notice him myself,” I thought. But sometimes, oftentimes, when one is in the middle of a dilemma or trial or traumatic situation like busting open a gallon of milk in the middle of the grocery store, you don’t notice much around you.

The employee rushed over and took the milk from my hands. I tried to explain what had happened and apologize as he rushed away. The mother and her daughter were now nearby, deciding between skim and 1%. I walked over and thanked the mother. She looked at me but said nothing. She pursed her lips into something resembling either a half smile or a smirk. I couldn’t decide. Her eyes definitely didn’t smile. So I turned back to my cart and hurried myself down the frozen food aisle to gather some frozen vegetables. Only I had a hard time finding the ones I wanted because I was crying.

I was embarrassed. I was lonely, in that big store full of people. I felt abandoned and my right foot was cold and sticky with the milk that was starting to dry.  I wiped my cheeks before Rachel noticed I was crying and kept my eyes trained hard on the veggies. I grabbed a couple of bags of peas and checked out. My only goal now was to get home and unload, both my groceries and my hurt feelings. While putting my groceries into the back of the van, I faintly heard something drop and turned to see what it was. I saw my pen on the ground and in the same instance, saw a hand pick it up and offer it to me. “I think you dropped your pen,” a woman said. She looked me in the eyes and flashed a bright shining, genuine smile.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice quivered. “Thank you so very much.”

LECTURE: Moral of the story

Book Review: Scumble

Learning to scumble a new savvy is not easy. At least that’s what Ledger Kale thinks.

Ledger Kale, the main character in “Scumble” by Ingrid Law, was hoping his savvy would be something useful, like running at lightning speed. But when his 13^th birthday rolls around and things start falling apart, literally, his hopes for his future are destroyed, along with the family van and anything else held together with nuts and bolts. Ledger Kale’s savvy is being able to tear things apart and he is not happy about it.

When the family drives to Uncle Autry’s bug ranch in Wyoming for cousin Fish’s wedding, things go from bad to worse. In an effort to help Ledger learn to scumble or control his savvy, his parents leave him and his sister, Fedora, at the ranch for the summer. The ranch is the perfect place for using your savvy without worry of discovery, out in the wide open spaces of Wyoming and is home to several other cousins who are working on scumbling. Things get really complicated when 13 year old Sara Jane Cabot stumbles into Ledger’s life and sees his savvy at work. The problem is that she runs a self-published newspaper called the Sundance Scuttlebutt and is about to blow the whistle on what goes on up at the ranch, which has just been foreclosed on by her father. Now it’s a race against time and Sara Jane, to save the ranch and keep the family secret a secret.

Ledger is a typical 13 year old, full of self-doubt and extra energy, to which most kids, boys and girls both, will relate. His savvy is most active when he is nervous, angry, or embarrassed which seems like all the time, especially when you’re in the middle of puberty. Introducing a girl, Sarah Jane, into the mix makes it all the worse to the point that he doubts he will ever regain control of himself. I believe most kids will relate to those feelings. As in Savvy, I really appreciated the simple love story. It was innocent, fun and completely age appropriate, which seems really hard to find these days.

Ledger learns a lot about himself throughout his adventure. In the final climatic scene of the novel he says, “Closing my eyes, I bowed my head, wondering…praying…demanding to know: Dear God, what had I been built to do?” This prayer could be offered by anyone, young and old, anytime making the novel relatable to all who read it. And his prayers are answered as he discovers his savvy is not just to tear things down. “But now I knew too,…that sometimes things have to come apart before becoming something different-something better.”

This young adolescent novel is fantastic and lives up to the expectations left by its predecessor, “Savvy.” It is full of new family characters, each with their own unique savvy and a few carry-over characters, such as Rocket. The new savvies, as well as old, are fun to see and the characters interact as a family would. The characters are diverse and interesting. This book is just wonderful. It’s full of adventure and discovery.  Just like “Savvy,” I recommend it for all pre-teens and up.

Balloon Fest

Our favorite 4th of July tradition.

Watching the hot air balloons go up as part of the Provo Freedom Festival. I told Sterling he might need to bring a Sharpie marker, just in case someone recognized him from the magazine photo spread, but it turns out he didn't need it anyway.

We got there bright and early. Early enough to watch them lay out their balloons and then blow them up. Its always a little chilly and feels so good to stand next to that flame. The power behind that fire is amazing to behold.

And this is what everyone wishes they could do. Walk around inside the balloon, BEFORE the fire and helium blow it up. The balloon starts to fill with air from a high powered fan and that's when this guy walked inside in stocking feet to lay everything out just right.

Soon we started to see the field come to life as balloon after balloon stodd up.

Hash was very impressed when the balloons lifted off into the sky. His eyes were wide the whole morning. He was speechless.

We saw this billboard and had to take a picture in our support of the sentiment.

Then, of course, we hiked the "Y" with Audra, her family and some of her friends from Tuscon, AZ. Followed by ice cream at the creamery. Who can resist. I almost can and let me tell you why. I committed myself to eating "Bishop Bash" flavor until Sterling is released as Bishop. Believe me, the flavor is getting old.

This 4th was different than past years because we had so many fires right before and during the holiday. The mayor of Saratoga Springs asked all residents to forgo fireworks. So we did. We just played some games and then put the kids to bed before the bigger fireworks started. Sydney, Sterling and I went outside when we started to hear aerial fireworks start up around the neighborhood. It was really strange to see fireworks shooting off, high up in the air, all over the neighborhood and valley and then to look up on the mountain and see a seam of furious fire climbing across the mountain. Hopefully next year we will be able to enjoy our own fireworks instead of just watching other's fireworks and mother-nature's fireworks.

2011

2010

2009/ 2009

2008

July Visitors

So far this July we have had some great visitors. First off my brother, Deej, came to visit from Texas. We absolutely loved seeing them and spending time reaquainting ourselves. The kids loved their cousins. It just makes me wish we could see them more often. The older I get and the more spread out the family gets, the more I value my siblings and the good relationships we have. We are all so different, yet somehow we all still enjoy each other and I count that as a huge blessing because not every family has that.

Our final goodbyes were said at City Creek. Mom and Dad met us there as well. Looks like Hash is telling Grandpa all sorts of stories here, which is funny because he still refuses to speak the English language.

Cousins

(and one grumpy little girl who did not want to take a picture and two missing girls who were too busy shopping to come take a picture. But at least we got a picture of the cousins who were visiting)

Later on in the month we had other visitors, from Texas, can you believe it?

My bestest friend growing up, Sara! and her 4 kids. We were lucky enough to have them spend the night. The kids loved this because they match in age almost exactly, all four of them, plus my little extra Hash on the end.

I've been so blessed to have so many wonderful women in my life. I have met amazing women in most places I've lived who have profoundly influenceed my life and I'm truly humbled and blessed to count them as friends. Sara is one of the first best friends I had. It really is an interesting friendship. We were really close through jr. high even though we lived in separate cities across a busy busy road. Sophmore year we were still close, finally in the same school. By Senior year we hardly did anything together. Through most of college we lost track of each other almost completely. Until one day Sara called and suggested we get together. That led to us going to China together. And the friendship was officially stronger than it had ever been. Then marriage and kids and moves to Japan and New York happened and we didn't talk much but the bond had already been forged stronger than ever and to this day, I still consider her my bestest childhood friend. I am a lucky girl. She built me up while she was here and filled me full of compliments and reassurance. She left me feeling like a better person. Thanks Sara. I just love you so much.

Now we need to gear up for our next July visitors,.....from Arizona!

Crazy

Crazy

Nuts-zo

Cuckoo

Missing a few marbles

Not right in the head

Insane

Those are a few words you might use to describe a person who decides to ride a 100-mile bike ride with

 No Training!

Please meet my husband, Mr. Wacko, himself.

He decided to ride in the Tour de Cure bike ride with close to no training. That's 100 miles folks. The Tour de Cure is a fundraiser bike ride to raise money for Diabetes research. Because Sterling's sister has diabetes, this ride really meant something to him. He printed out a wallet size picture of his sister and taped it to his bike as a reminder. He really did a great job and I'm just amazed at his ability to fight through pain and exhaustion and not give up. Especially when it means something to him. He's quite the stallion.

It wasn't easy but it sure was worth it.

Here is his riding buddy, Robert. He's a machine. And a great influence and support for Sterling.

This wasn't Sterling's first instance of craziness, pain and exhaustion. Running the St. George Marathon in denim shorts was pretty insane.

Doesn't that look like he wants to do it again?

Just ask him.

One marathon, one century is

enough!

A Mixed-Up Fairy Tale

Warning: this post has a TON of pictures.

Remember when my friend, Diahan, and I did that little Performing Arts Camp thingy last summer? Well, we did it again. About a month ago and I'm just getting around to posting about it.

This year, although different in many ways, was just as fun as last year. We rehearsed for 6 days (really just 5 because we didn't practice the first day) and put on a great show the 6th night. The kids worked really hard. I wish I had taken pictures during rehearsals but all my attention was focused on rehearsing and preparing for the final show.

We played a few drama games that focused on exaggerated action and projecting your voice, acting and reacting and stage presence. We handed out parts on the first day and the kids had to start memorizing right away. They were amazing. The kids also helped paint the scenery. That may have been one of their favorite parts of the camp, besides the popsicle breaks each day.

And here are a few shots of the cast at our final rehearsal.

The boys:

(boy were they a handful. Especially that Frog Prince in the middle.)

The girls:

Little Bo-Peep and her Sheep:

Rumplestiltskin, his Sidekick and his horse:

Wicked Fairy Step-Mother and her Mirror:

The Frog Prince:

Cinderella:

Frog Prince & Cinderella:

Here is a video of the play. I feel bad that the camera angle didn't quite capture Cinderella in the castle. I tried to cut in some footage from the dress rehearsal in order to see a little more of Cinderella. I love this play. We found it on-line and then Diahan augmented it quite a bit with the rap, and the entire parts of the Sidekick and the Correspondent. She is so talented. So if you have 10 minutes or so, sit back and enjoy.

Full Cast:

Our friend, Becky, took pictures the night of the final performance. Looking through these pictures made me really appreciate the experience. Thank you so much, Becky, for capturing it all.

Here the audience is beginning to arrive.

Pre-show meeting and prayer.

The beautiful princess, Cinderella.

Pickle-pig-skin, Skinny-rump-kin...just call him Jack.

Frog Prince, here to rescue your golden ball.

 Hit the Road, Cat.

 Jump rope girls.

 Oh, princey-poo!

 Mirror, mirror on the wall.

Proud Mama.

Final bow.

Thank you's.

 Best Buddies

I am so glad Diahan and I have started this tradition. Every time the camp ends and the final bows are taken, I'm already excited and ready to do it again. And that's a good sign. I hope the kids feel the same way.