Life Isn't About Waiting for the Storm to Pass. . .

I was lucky enough to get to speak in another ward last Sunday as a companion speaker with the high counselor. The topic was dear to my heart and I'd like to share my talk with my blog following friends.  Happy Thanksgiving. May we all find something to be grateful for today!

Finding Blessings in Trials- How Gratitude Blesses Me As I Face Adversity

I have read the beginning of the Book of Mormon dozens of times.  Many of you are thinking these very words right now “I Nephi, having been born of goodly parents, therefore I was taught somewhat in all the learning of my father”  But, my memorization skills tend to falter right there.  I finished another cycle of studying the Book of Mormon a few weeks ago, so I started again. As I read this first  verse yet again, what comes next stuck out to me for the first time. It reads,        “and having seen many afflictions, nevertheless, having been highly favored of the Lord in all my days.”

Nephi had to leave his hometown, which was later destroyed, with very little notice.  He had to return two times, once he was required to kill a man, and later to bring back a wife.  He didn’t get to choose whom he would marry.  He was mocked by his brothers as he followed God. He was violently physically abused and nearly killed- by his BROTHERS. His life was full of trials.  And in his own words, in the very first verse we have from him, he also tells us that he was highly favored of the Lord in ALL of his days.  

Nephi knew how to recognize the blessings in his life, not just in the good times, but especially during the trials.  

President Uchtdorf taught us:

It is easy to be grateful for things when life seems to be going our way. But what then of those times when what we wish for seems to be far out of reach?

Could I suggest that we see gratitude as a disposition, a way of life that stands independent of our current situation? In other words, I’m suggesting that instead of being thankful for things, we focus on being thankful in our circumstances—whatever they may be.

Neph knew how to be grateful all the time, whatever the circumstances.  

“My dear brothers and sisters, the choice is ours. We can choose to limit our gratitude, based on the blessings we feel we lack. Or we can choose to be like Nephi, whose grateful heart never faltered. When his brothers tied him up on the ship—which he had built to take them to the promised land—his ankles and wrists were so sore “they had swollen exceedingly,” and a violent storm threatened to swallow him up in the depths of the sea. “Nevertheless,” Nephi said, “I did look unto my God, and I did praise him all the day long; and I did not murmur against the Lord because of mine afflictions.”4- Uchtdorf

When I was 13 years old, my father lost his job. He was unable to find employment for quite some time until he found a job overseas. For the next year, he worked in the harsh wilderness of Siberia for 6 weeks on and 6 weeks off.  It was very hard for our family for him to be gone so much. Eventually, my dad was able to secure employment that allowed us to be with him.  With only a few weeks notice, in the fall of 1992, just one year after the fall of communism, 6 of us moved to Moscow, Russia.  For a while, I thought my life was over.  Instead of starting 9th grade, I got to start homeschool in the large hallway of our 1100 sq.ft apartment. Instead of being 1st chair in the symphonic band, a right I had earned at the end of 8th grade, I played the clarinet alone for my private instructor.  Instead of mutual activities, well, nothing.  Instead of TV, videotapes.  Instead of sunshine, we had snow.  I had to get rid of almost all of my belongings. I was allowed to bring a duffle bag of clothing and one rubbermaid tote of personal belongings.  And I got to keep one apple box full of “treasures.” in storage. And this is why I’m not making the big bucks selling my original My Little Ponies on ebay.  Instead of a large ward in Dallas Texas, we attended a small branch of recent Russian converts- in Russian of course.  For a week or so after moving there, I allowed myself to wallow in pity. I was only 14 and hadn’t experienced very many hardships. This was new territory for me. This pity party culminated in my sister and I crying our eyes out until we started laughing hysterically on our blow up mattresses one night, until we decided- we were stuck there- we might as well make the best of it. So, we did.  And, isn’t it funny how, once you embrace a challenge, it changes you in ways that a stroll down easy street never can?  

Russia changed me.  I would NEVER have chosen it.  I would NEVER have chosen to miss going to High School and all the other things I didn’t get to do.  Once my attitude changed, I would NEVER want to take it away.  We had so many blessed experiences, from assisting with international adoption, to serving in orphanages, being member missionaries, supporting full time missionaries, serving in the branches, moving to Vladivostok and introducing the church in that city of 600,000 people, and learning first hand how very blessed we are to live in America.  I will never take for granted soft toilet paper, peanut butter, baking powder, clean streets, or fully stocked grocery stores.  I also learned how to be happy without them- except soft toilet paper.

But, most importantly, I learned in Russia to look for the blessings in my life.  I didn’t always have a perfect attitude. One day I sat in a youth meeting, conducted in Russian, and I was feeling bored.  I made some comment to that effect to the missionary sitting next to me.  He asked to borrow my scriptures.  I handed them over and he wrote in them.  At first I was angry at him, but I soon came to feel deep gratitude. On the blank page at the beginning of my Book of Mormon, he had written, “Your attitude determines your altitude.”  Once I got over the shame of the reprimand, I was grateful for the message.  I can choose my attitude, whatever my circumstances.  I can look for the good.  I can look for the blessings and truly experience a grateful heart.

As I have been studying the scriptures these last few months, I have noticed a pattern of miracles accompanying ongoing afflictions.  Like Nephi, the Brother of Jared was righteous and favored of God. We are all familiar with his story of his language being preserved at the tower of Babel, traveling in the wilderness and being directed to build barges to travel to the promised land.  After building the barges, he realized they would not only suffocate with no air, but would suffer greatly with no light, and he took the matter to God in prayer. He was given an answer to cut holes in the top and bottom that could be stopped to prevent the water from coming in, but could also be opened to allow air. But, for the light, God said to the brother of Jared “What will ye that I should do that ye may have light in your vessels?” The Brother of Jared is a pure example of true faith - he worked hard, went into the mountain and did molten 16 clear stones, and then came to the  Lord in prayer again and asked Him to touch them with his finger and give them light.  And his faith was so strong that he saw the finger of the Lord as he touched the stones and was told “ never before has man come before me with such exceeding faith as thou hast”. His faith was so strong that the veil was fully parted and he saw Jesus Christ.

I think we can all agree this is one of the coolest miracles recorded in the Book of Mormon and that the Brother of Jared was a very righteous person.  But, even after this miracle, Jared and his people loaded into 8 barges which would become their claustrophobic homes for almost a year as they traveled to their new home. Yes, they had air and they had light, but could the children run and play?  Did they have soft beds?  Books to read? Toys to play with?  A nice variety of hot meals?  Soap? Privacy? What was it like when the barges flipped over? The journey must have been very very difficult.  God allowed these people not only to have guidance to make the trip possible, but a beautiful miracle of light to make it tolerable.  He also allowed them to experience the afflictions of such a difficult journey. He could have put them to sleep and flown them to America in an airplane.  Why didn’t he?  Why did he allow them to still suffer?  I think the answer is the same answer for all of us.  God gives us tender mercies, and he even gives us miracles. He also allows us to have trials and afflictions to give us the chance to grow and to learn how to be happy and grateful in all circumstances.  

Heavenly Father has blessed me with opportunities to find the blessings in trials and to focus on gratitude during afflictions.  And I have learned, just as happened to Nephi and the Brother of Jared, and many others, it is often while we walk through the refining fire that life’s most beautiful miracles are given to us.  

5 years ago in September of 2012, I had the privilege of undergoing major jaw surgery.  The procedure, called a lefort osteotomy, included detaching my teeth by completely cutting through my upper jaw bone, reshaping it, and putting it all back together with 5 plates and 25 screws.  I got to keep those in my face as a lifelong souvenir.   My mouth was banded shut between 8 and 24 hours a day for a year. Before the surgery, I had been in some level of constant pain for over 2 years. Thankfully, once healed from that surgery, my mouth no longer hurt. Actually, for a few months I couldn’t feel my top teeth at all due to the nerves being cut during surgery! I learned a lot about patience and long suffering during that time. Just two months after that surgery, I elected to have another surgery for an unrelated condition.  I had met my max out of pocket for the year, so it made sense.  When they wheeled me back for surgery, I had to remove the bands keeping my jaw shut, and reminded them to be careful of my healing jaw when they intubated me.  Shortly after the surgery, Brother Gary Thomas asked to meet with me to extend a new calling to me. I hobbled to his house three doors down from mine, and accepted the new calling and eventually I was set apart at church when I was able to attend again. The recovery from my first surgery was so difficult that my surgeon had advised me to to research the surgery beforehand, but it was necessary and successful. But, the recovery from this second surgery had also been very rough, and in the end, the surgery had not only failed, but left me with new and worsened symptoms that were debilitating. Because of this, I was in a great deal of pain and struggling to function normally and care for my 6 young children.  I came into the room to be set apart by Brother Thomas.  Before he began, I said to him. “Brother Thomas, I am not doing well.  I need you to give me a powerful blessing so that I will be able to fulfill this calling.”  These words were an understatement of what I was really feeling.  I needed a miracle.  He took my request in stride and proceeded to give me a beautiful blessing, in which he promised me that the symptoms I was having would gradually improve. I hadn’t given him any details about what was going on, but Heavenly Father knew what was going on, and gave him the words and the power to give me the blessing I needed.  Over the next three months, bit by bit, those new symptoms did improve and resolve, but I was not magically healed from the original condition.  I still have that and I likely will always have it.   There are two ways I could have viewed this situation- I could express sadness, anger, and distress. I could question why God hadn’t healed me completely. These would be understandable reactions, and I did feel upset that the surgery had failed.  But, instead of seeing my life through the window of sorrow, I chose to see the trial through the lens of the miracle. God did heal me from the new symptoms- exactly as much healing as I needed to be able to fulfill my mission.  He was aware of me, my pain, and my suffering. He couldn’t take it all away. For some reason, it wouldn’t be best for me. But, I have noticed, that in every trial, there are blessings. Some are very easy to see, like physical healing or stones glowing and lighting a barge, or a ball of curious workmanship with messages and directions.  Some are more subtle, like burdens becoming lighter or strength to withstand chronic pain.  But, we must always look for them.  

When we are grateful to God in our circumstances, we can experience gentle peace in the midst of tribulation. In grief, we can still lift up our hearts in praise. In pain, we can glory in Christ’s Atonement. In the cold of bitter sorrow, we can experience the closeness and warmth of heaven’s embrace.- Dieter F. Uchtdorf

The older I get, the more chances in life I have to practice feeling gratitude no matter what.  I have been blessed with the trial of health problems and chronic pain for the last 7 ½ years.  Would I take away that pain if I could?  Probably.  Would I take away how it has changed me?  Never.  So, I guess I wouldn’t really choose to take the pain away either- because the refinement is worth the suffering. Although, sometimes I think, “I’ve learned it. I’m ready to stop hurting now.”    

President Uchtdorf taught us to keep an eternal perspective:

In any circumstance, our sense of gratitude is nourished by the many and sacred truths we do know: that our Father has given His children the great plan of happiness; that through the Atonement of His Son, Jesus Christ, we can live forever with our loved ones; that in the end, we will have glorious, perfect, and immortal bodies, unburdened by sickness or disability; and that our tears of sadness and loss will be replaced with an abundance of happiness and joy, “good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over.”10-  Uchtdorf

I know these things to be true and bear my testimony that when we are choose to feel gratitude, especially during trials, we will be filled with happiness and joy, no matter our circumstances, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

Suicide Soda- I Know Better, But I Keep Adding Flavors

This post is not actually about suicide or soda, but it is about what a suicide soda represents to me. For those who don't know, suicide soda is when you mix every flavor available into one cup, a cup from which you intend to actually drink.  When I was a kid, I thought this was hilarious! What could taste better than caffeine free Dr. Pepper with some orange, grape, lemon lime, and root beer thrown in?  Mmmm.  Yummilisciousness!

Yep, that's what I thought back then. Life was so simple.  And there were no immediate consequences for my choice to mix beverages, or even for my choice to drink carbonated sugar water. Sigh. Those were the days.

But those days are over.

And now onto what this post is really about.  A few days ago, I literally spent 4 hours inputting responsibilities into my google calendar.

 Literally.

4 hours.

By the time I was done, I wanted to strangle my husband and every fluffy bunny in the world. This was no fault of my husband or the bunnies, but rather an unfortunate truth for him and them that I just didn't feel like I had time left for anything or anyone, no matter how cute or adorable. I had the calendaring crankies.  Poor Juddy. Poor bunnies.

And I did it to myself. I surely did.  I just kept on adding things to the mix, until I had what some would call a recipe for disaster.

WHAT WAS I THINKING?  AM I INSANE?  WHEN AM I GOING TO SLEEP?

These, and other thoughts, raced through my head as I made entry after entry.

When I was a new mother, I dreamed of the day I would send my last child off to first grade, and sit home with NOTHING to do, watching TV, reading books, or whatever else I wanted.  Freedom would be mine and it would taste sweet like the nectar of the gods.

And, you know what?  If I wanted that freedom, I could have it.  Nobody makes me drive to Orem each week to teach piano lessons. Nobody forces me to clean my mom's house. Nobody made me agree to be PTA President( although some people have asked how I was coerced).  And nobody forces me to go to the temple, or to the gym, or visiting teaching, or anywhere else.  Nobody made me agree to drive my boys to early morning seminary either.

As my kids would say, "Aw Picklenuggets!"  Sometime between new motherhood and 18 years later, I guess I grew up a little bit.  I found out I don't really want to sit around all day with nothing to do.  And I sure as heck don't want to stay home so I can clean and shop all day. That's just not for me.

I like the things I've chosen to do. I don't love that my kids go to 4 different schools, but it's a choice we made and I own it.  I don't love driving all over for voice lessons, gymnastics, band, dance class, soccer, and other appointments, but I love the little people ( and some big people now) that I'm driving around and I love watching them develop their talents. I hate that my son has been diagnosed with eosinophilic esophagitis, but I would give up every free minute of my day for appointments, tests, and procedures for as long as it takes to find out what's causing it and make it better.

I do these things because I love the people I serve.  I LOVE my 5 church callings (They are really pretty easy).  I love the ladies I visit teach.  I love God.  I love my kids and I love other people's kids.  So, yes, just looking at my calendar can sometimes cause intestinal problems, and it's a bit of a juggling game, but I hope I can do it with grace, kindness, and humor.  I'm excited for this crazy year. I'm excited to help my firstborn apply for college, turn in mission papers, and to drive him all over the place for Madrigal performances.  I'm excited for all of it- the crazy, the hard, and the happy.  Maybe I should know better. Maybe I should have stopped adding flavors to the mix.  I did tell Clara NOOOOOO  the other day when she asked to join Girl Scouts- cause my cup is just plain full right now.  But, I love that full cup of crazy mixed up deliciousness.

I even love taking these two to the orthodontist

I'm too busy and stressed out, so I think I'll be PTA President

If I weren't me, I would think I was full on crazy.  As it is, I know that I am only a little bit crazy.  In a blog post in January, I opened up and shared the struggles I've been having for the last 7 months or so with anxiety and chronic pain.  Not knowing these things were coming, last Spring I felt prompted to take a year off from intense PTA service, just helping here and there as I've been able.

So, what changed?  Strangely, nothing has changed.

Well, that's not true.  One thing has changed. The answer to the question changed. Last year when I prayed and pondered about being on the PTA board, the answer was clearly "No".  This year, when I prayed about the idea of being PTA President, the answer is yes.

I'm still plagued with random anxiety.  I still wake up almost every day with a sense of dread.  I still experience scattered episodes of heart pounding, muscles tensing, and irrational feelings.  But, I don't feel it all the time and I know it passes.  I still don't know why I have so much pain in my foot. . . both feet now.  I don't know if it's muscular or neurological.  I have started to be aggressive in trying to figure it out and I'm hopeful to find some answers in the next few months.  Since I fell down a few steps last week and sprained my "good" ankle, I will be going to PT soon for both feet. And I get to see a neurologist on Friday. Hopefully some really painful nerve testing is in my future. I'm ready to face whatever the answers may be.
Anyway, so why would a person experiencing these trials, with 6 very busy kids, decide to be PTA President?

People get answers to prayers in different ways. Some people hear spoken words, some find answers in scriptures or words from a person, feelings, or thoughts in their minds. However they come, they are accompanied by a confirmation from the Holy Ghost. They bring peace, a lasting peace, and an ability to move forward with faith, acting on the prompting or answer.  For me, when the answer was no, I felt a stupor of thought.  It was like a mental wall that would not allow me to even consider the possibility of serving on the PTA Board.  When the answer was yes, it was like a seed had been planted in my mind and heart and it was growing like crazy. I couldn't stop thinking about it, and ideas just started flooding my brain. I also felt the warm tingly feeling in my heart when I prayed about   So, I'm supposed to be PTA President. Wow!

I am really excited to do this! And my friends and family have my back, so I know I won't be alone.  One of the things that we do at our school is pick a theme for the PTA for each year.  Many PTAS have a fundraising theme, something cute to encourage parents to join the PTA. But, we take it one step further by having a theme that we use throughout the year.  The school joins along in using and implementing the theme.  It's kind of a big deal.  In the past we've had themes such as:

Heroes ( Super Hero Fox)
Team Fox Hills
Shoot For the Stars (May the Fox Be With You - Jedi Fox)
Building a World of Education ( minecraft and lego)
Unless ( From the Lorax, Unless someone like you cares a whole lot, nothing's going to change, it's not)  We did Dr. Seuss stuff all year

So, it's my turn to pick a theme.  Our school is Fox Hills.  I'm going with . . . . .imagine a very awesome drumroll right now. . . . . . . . . . .

F. O. X.

This stands for Focus on Excellence.

This theme has a two-fold meaning for me.  The first is to encourage the children to focus on their talents rather than dwelling on their weaknesses.  Every person ever born has something special about him/her, one or more talents that should be discovered, developed, and celebrated.  While it's important to be aware of our weaknesses and to work on them, I want to focus on the kids' strengths and potential.  I want them to focus on their strengths- and to focus on the strengths of others as well. That leads into the second component of what this theme means for me.  When we look for talents in ourselves and others, it is easier to let go of the natural inclination to be competitive.  While there is a time for competition, most of the time, in real life, is not the time to compete, but a time to work together. At a meeting a few months ago, my friend Jennette Booth, said something in a way that really touched me.  It was about serving in the church, but it applies in life.  She said that when we come together we bring our weaknesses and our strengths.  We may be strong where our friend is weak, and our friend may be strong where we are weak.  Our weaknesses can be likened to gaps.  When we come together, work together, and help each other, we fill each other's gaps. This fusion of friendship creates something unique that we couldn't do alone.  Our talents combine and strengthen not only each other, but the group as a whole, and we are stronger than the sum of our parts.

I am counting on FOX to get me through being PTA President.  I'm counting on a lot of parents volunteering and bringing their strengths to the table.  I'm counting on my kids stepping up and filling in some the gaps to help me out. I know my husband will help. He's already volunteered to be Reflections Chair! It's going to be a wild ride, but I know I'm supposed to do it. So, even though I announced this on facebook on April Fool's Day, it's not a joke.  I'm really going to be PTA President next year!  I plan to get a lot of volunteers by using my "Texas" smile when I ask for help.

My New Friend Who is Not Really My Friend and is Actually Welcome to Leave At Any Time

A person might assume that another person, such as I, faced with more free time than I've had in the last 17 years, would be blogging more than in the past, but apparently, that person would be wrong. Since Emmeline started school in August, things have been. . . interesting.

I have done great at my goal of attending the temple weekly, achieving an average of one visit per week.  That addition to my life has brought me more joy than I ever could have imagined.  I love the temple! And reading the Book of Mormon every day has been peaceful and enlightening.

But, let's go backwards a little bit before we get to now.  Last Spring my awesome PTA board member friends were looking for some people to step up for this year's board.  I had my pick of President Elect or Secretary, or some other big and fun and wonderful PTA job. While stressful, I truly enjoyed my two years as Treasurer and I cherish the friendships I made. But, when I thought and prayed about taking a position for this school year, I felt what we Mormons call a "stupor of thought".  Rather than feeling a sense of peace or excitement about making this commitment, I felt restrained and a mental emptiness, a gentle impression that I was not meant to be on the board this school year.  I repeatedly felt the distinct impression that "something" was coming into my life that would prevent me from being able to continue serving at such an intense level at the PTA.   I remember telling my friend Kathy "I just hope that whatever is coming is something good!"

It wasn't.

Dang it.

School started. Everything was great for a little while.

Then, with no warning, I got a new house guest.  Her name is Anxiety.  She's kind of a bully and I don't like her very much.  Luckily, she's not always here.  She's very unpredictable that way. I guess Anxiety, like living and breathing house guests, affects people in different ways. For me, I feel worried about nothing at all, I feel tense, I feel like maybe hyperventilating would be good, and I feel this tight squeezing in my chest. Sometimes Anxiety invites her cousin Depression to join the partay!

About 6 weeks after Anxiety moved in, something went wrong with the progress I've been making with my leg healing.  I tore my calf in February of last year.  It was up and down but I was definitely up at the time and had finally made it up to running a mile.  I was one week away from being ready to try Spinning class again, when my foot started to hurt a lot - on my birthday. Rude. Then my calf muscle tightened up in this crazy death grip and it just went downhill from there.  To make a long and not yet finished story much shorter, I have nearly constant pain in my foot, calf, and hip.  I had to stop running and most walking.  I'm going to water aerobics and trying to manage the pain with a metal croquet ball( hip), golf ball, (foot) and my new buddy the lacrosse ball( calf).  I've tried motrin, heat packs, muscle rubs, electrical massage machine, stopping all activity, switching to soft inserts rather than my custom orthotics, a trip to the doctor and oodles of stretching.  It's been 3 months now.  I wonder if this pain might be a permanent resident.  This is making Anxiety stay at my house even more.  She's really attracted to stress.

On Friday, I'm going to the doctor again.  I'll be asking for a referral to a podiatrist, a referral to another sport's medicine doctor (cause this guy has seen me three times and wants a second opinion), and possibly asking to start the process again to get an MRI scheduled to check for nerve impingement.  The good news about that is that if I meet my max out of  pocket in January, I have 11 months of free medical left this year! I'm not sure what's going to happen.  I'm not sure if I'm ever going to get completely better.  But, I'm ready to do whatever it takes to find out what is wrong with me.

So, that's depressing.  It's been really really hard to keep my chin up,and sometimes I'm not keeping it up; instead, I'm laying on my bed in the fetal position and bawling.

And it's hard to be nice when you're in pain all the time.  To all the people in chronic pain who are still nice- I THINK YOU ARE FREAKING AMAZING!  I'm trying to learn to be like you.

Okay, now fast forward to now.  I guess what I'm saying is that I'm human.  I'm struggling and I'm going through some especially stinky trials right now.  For months I have wavered back and forth on whether or not to share this, but in the end, I think sharing it is the right thing to do.

I'm going to be okay.  I don't know when and I don't know how and I don't know what okay is going to look like, I just know that I'm not giving up until I get there.

I'm not sharing this trial with anyone and everyone who decides to read it merely in hopes of going viral. ( this is a good place to insert maniacal laughter, because that is just funny.  I'll never go viral) I'm not sharing because I want something out of anyone.  And I'm not reaching out for pity, although sometimes compassion feels good.

I'm sharing because that is what I do. I write. I share.  I hope that my blog entries make you laugh, make you cry, make you think, and help you feel God's love for you.

In spite of the last four months being crazy hard with no end in site, God has not left me alone to deal with these things.  He has sent me comfort in the form of family and friends and the Holy Ghost speaking to my heart, especially while I am studying the Book of Mormon.

  I am not going to let Anxiety or injury win.  I'm holding fast to my faith, even in the moments where I'm shaking with fear and/or sadness, my faith is what helps me wipe away the tears, take a deep breath, and go cook dinner or help my little girl with her homework.

And even while I desperately hope that there is something easier ahead, it's the warm little hand of that sweet young daughter holding my hand and trusting me to keep her safe, that propels my own legs forward.  Despite the discomfort, she is worth it.  All six of my kids are worth it individually. Getting to be their Mom is worth the trials of the past, present, and future.

I have a quote on my wall that my littlest girl (5) can now read.

"Life isn't about waiting for the storm to pass . . It's about learning to dance in the rain" -Vivion Greene

So, take that trials! My dance might be one legged and funny looking, but I'm still dancing.

The Promise of Spring

As I scrubbed dirt out from under my fingernails for the second time today, I thought about how incredibly happy I was feeling. Today was a great day! I spent a few hours weeding and pulling the leaves out of my flower beds. I don't know what the future holds, but today it hinted at Spring.  Eeek!  I'm so excited!

I love Spring.  I LOVE SPRING!

It was 50 something degrees outside in the middle of February.  Recent rain has melted almost every bit of snow.  The daffodils, crocuses, and tulips, possessing a sure knowledge that Spring will come, have sent up their shoots.  It is going to come.

There's just something so promising about those first little green leaves poking up out of the rich brown earth, not worrying about the freezing weather or snow that probably will happen, maybe again and again, before Spring truly arrives. These plants can take it. They are frost resistant.

And so am I.

I can wait for the Spring.  I can make it through the Winter, even knowing that Winter is going to come again.
I'm referring to the seasons, but I'm also referring to life, the ups and downs that come to us all.

Sometimes the trials come so fast and hard that the only thing that gets me through is that promise.  Sometimes, Spring comes just in time to give me a little boost, to remind me of the promise of Jesus Christ and the plan of salvation.  The promise that this mortal life is but a small moment, that one day I will understand the tapestry being weaved in my life.

My Life is but a weaving
between my Lord and me;
I cannot choose the colors
He worketh steadily.

Oft times He weaveth sorrow
And I, in foolish pride,
Forget He sees the upper,
And I the under side.

Not til the loom is silent
And the shuttles cease to fly,
Shall God unroll the canvas
And explain the reason why.

The dark threads are as needful
In the Weaver's skillful hand,
As the threads of gold and silver
In the pattern He has planned.

He knows, He loves, He cares,
Nothing this truth can dim.
He gives His very best to those
Who leave the choice with Him.

author unknown

Every single Spring is a reminder that God is in control.  He knows what is coming. Hard things are coming.  And good things are coming. And no matter what, it's going to be okay, because God is in control and He is a master weaver.

So, with all of that said, I announced recently that we had become licensed to do foster care.  We didn't know that after the homestudy, and after the licenses are issued, there is still a board that reviews each homestudied family.  We were reviewed and the committee decided not to recommend us for placements. We found out on Monday with a "courtesy call". At some point we will get a letter telling us this news, but it hasn't come yet.

We will not be doing foster care.

They gave some reasons, but the summary of those is that they don't feel it is right for our family right now.  I won't go into details, but we were told to learn more about foster kids and how hard it is to care for them, stay strong in our family and marriage, and we could reapply in three years- after going through the entire process again. And the answer could be the same again.

3 years will be 2017.  I will turn 40 in 2017.

Life is full of hard things.  And good things too.  My husband is heartbroken.  Our extra bedroom holds a bunkbed and a Cars toddler bed with adorable cars bedding. The closet has little boy outfits that now need new homes.  We won't be needing them.

Hard things.

But, I know that Spring will come.  And we are going to be okay. God can see our tapestry.  He has given us so many blessings. His love is always there.  I will trust in His pattern and follow His plan.

Spring will come.

That is so Junior High!

I wrote this post a couple of years ago, but never posted it, probably because the feelings I express are very personal and vulnerable. But, I don't have that many readers, so, what they heck! Here you go guys:

Do you ever have a twinge of Junior High feeling flit across your heart?  I hope not, for your sake, because, for me, it is as unwelcome as snow after Mother's Day.  Just the act of writing those two lines has invited that awkward chest tightening yet again.  It's just, so, well, so Junior High.  What am I talking about?  I'm talking about the feeling that comes when either 1. I tell myself I am nerdy ( in a bad way), a fashion disaster, a blob of gelatinous cellulite ridden grossness, uncool, lacking in close friends. . . . I could go on, but you probably get the picture OR 2. Someone else acts in such a way as to make me feel like THEY think I am nerdy, a fashion disaster, uncool. . . . you get it right?

www.dreamstime.com

I really hate feeling that way.  To borrow a line from a Wicked song- it's loathing, unadulterated loathing, for my face, my hair, my clothing. Do they loathe it all?  Okay, I'm not really going around wondering that, at least not all of that at one time.  But, sometimes doubts creep in, whether initiated from me or from the outside. It's a bad feeling.

It's something I've been thinking about a lot lately- wondering where I fit in with the other people in my ward, my neighborhood, the school community, and the family.  I have a strong personality.  Maybe I offend people without meaning to do so.   I have a tender heart.  Maybe people don't really know that.  And I think way too much.

I think about the people in my ward who seem like they are really nice.  They are nice to my face, usually, but sometimes mean behind my back, and I hear about it later.  I think about the times I may have said something mean about someone else and forgive the people who did it to me.  But, I still wonder how many people really can't stand me. And I think about the people who have always been nice to me, but are just cooler than me, the groups that hang out together.  Every now and then,  I get invited to a fringe activity, but am never truly part of the group. I am not cool enough for them.  I don't dress well enough.  I don't wear makeup. Do I want to be part of that group or any group? Am I mad at them for not including me? No, not really. They can't have everyone in it.  But, knowing I'm not part of it just brings that nasty Junior High excluded feeling back again.

What group do I fit in with?
 I guess, none of them, not really.
 I'm a floater.


http://theblacksphere.net/2010/06/confessions-of-a-token-white-girl/
 I'm in a book club and I love all of the members.  For most of the 5 years it's been going, since I started it, I've been the youngest member.  Everyone is really nice to me, but it's not like we do stuff outside of book club.  I walk with a friend 5 days a week, and I do truly consider her to be my friend, but we don't call each other to chat or hang out. She's busy with her own large extended family that all live close by.  I even float with my church calling.  One week I might be subbing in the Nursery. Most weeks I'm switching between playing piano for the Primary and playing for Relief Society. I kind of feel like an outsider in both places because I'm not firmly planted in either.  I joined a block of the month quilting class, but even I know that I don't really fit in there, being a complete novice who doesn't even own a sewing machine.  Still, it's good sometimes to be uncomfortable.

I'm probably coming across as unhappy, but I'm not.  I have a lot of friends, just not a lot of close friends.  I don't have a lot of friends I call and chat with for no reason at all. I can do that with my mom and two of my sisters.  But, the awkward feeling does creep in with family, usually just with inlaws.  My inlaws are great, but naturally we don't always agree.  Over Christmas, we had a disagreement that was very upsetting to both sides.  It pitted my husband and I against his parents and siblings. Now I feel, just so Junior High when I am around them.  I know they are still mad at me. I get little clues like not being talked to for the first hour of a family get together.  It's hard to tell with that Junior High feeling.  There are other groups where I get that nasty JH feeling too.  Is it me, or is it them?  Or is it both?  Do I do this to people too?

When I was in Junior High I had a pretty big group of friends.  I was safe with them.  It was THE OTHERS whom I tried to avoid- the mean boy who made fun of me on the bus, the cheerleaders who laughed at me, the kids who ignored me.  It was all so uncomfortable all the time and the feeling there was one of too much caring of what other people thought.  And sometimes I let that creep into my heart still.  Cause I know I can't control them.  I can't make them like me.  I can't make them want to be my bosom buddy or invite me for a lunch date or to the movie.  And I really do have friends.  They just keep moving away, or I move away, or we're too busy to get together too often.  I just don't have a group.  That's not who I am.  I don't feel comfortable belonging to just one group.   I like to flit around myself and talk to a lot of people.  I like so many different people at church and enjoy spending time with many diverse ladies.

The price for that is that there usually isn't anyone saving me a seat.  The upside is that I can go and sit by someone who is sitting alone.  And that is what I usually do, because I usually ignore any Junior High feeling that creeps up on me, and think about the other people who might be feeling insecure themselves.  I like the girls who are 14 years younger than me- 20 year olds who just got married.  I like the people around my age. I like the ladies in their 40's and 50's who have nearly finished raising their brood.  I love the ladies 60 and above who have so much experience and wisdom to share.  I'm so glad that I'm not in Junior High anymore.  It's such an artificial environment and not the real world, at least not the world the way I choose to live in it.  Yes, I still see the clicks.  I still worry that my clothes aren't good enough.  But, they are fleeting moments of Junior Highesque apprehension, rather than life consuming worries.  Most of the time, I am comfortable in my own skin.  Thank goodness.  Do I still long for a kindred spirit to move in next door, somebody who is a perfect fit to become my BFF.  Yes. Who wouldn't?  But, if I had that, maybe I would lose the richness of a broad diversity of women in my life. Maybe keeping just a touch of the humility of Junior High in my life is part of God's plan for me.