The Clouds Parted for Me.

Every year in the first week or two of August, there is a meteor shower called the Perseid Meteor Shower. It’s pretty amazing and I have stayed up several different years to see the acclaimed display of stars hurling through the sky.  I haven’t attempted to stay up for the past several years because, well, my wedding, pregnancies, new babies etc. have somehow taken precedence. (Imagine that.)

But this year, everything lined up perfectly and my little brother was staying at my house so he was able to stay with my sleeping babies while my husband and I snuck out to the canyon for a few hours. We didn’t go out too far because we wanted to stay close to home, but we found a little spot, spread out the blanket, and laid down hoping to see something amazing.

What we saw instead, was a lot of clouds. Thin clouds, but just enough to cover the whole sky where we were looking. I was so sad. How many times have I come out to see something spectacular, and instead, witness basically nothing!? Probably 6 or 7. I sighed, totally bummed. There was also a lot of light pollution since we weren't far enough out of the city. I thought about just going home. But, really? I want to see a light show!! So. We laid there for just a minute, then I thought to pray.

“Heavenly Father, this is a little thing, and it’s ok if it’s not in Thy plan. But we are here to see the majesty of Thy creations and we’d really like to see some shooting stars. Could you please just part the clouds for us for a little bit so we can see before we go back home? I would really appreciate it, Thanks so much.”

And suddenly, the clouds began to move. Not a lot. Not more than a usual little whispy movements. But within about 10 minutes, the sky above us was completely clear and we had a perfect view into the heavenly night sky. I looked around and noticed the cloud cover was still around, thicker into the canyon and lighter over the city, but there was just a hole for us. Just so we could look straight up and see.

I was amazed. I was humbled. I was confused. I was grateful. Non-believers may mock, but I know what I experienced! What confused me though, was WHY? I thought of the world. (It’s easy to think of all of God’s creations when you take a few moments to think of the universe.) I mean, He is coordinating all the planets and stars and even making this meteor shower a light show instead of complete earth destruction. But more than that, there are thousands, millions maybe of His children crying up to Him at any minute. There were people that night in deep financial stress. There were parents kneeling by the bedside of their beloved, dying child, there were people struggling for life. There were people lost and hungry and crying and dying and barely surviving and some thriving, but needing direction. Why would the God of Heaven and Earth bend his ear to a perfectly healthy, happy child who just wanted some entertainment? How does He listen when somebody just wants to find their keys so they are not late to work? How does it all happen? And why? Why should we pray for little things? I don’t know. I don’t know all the answers. What I DO know, though, is that God is real and that He hears and answers every, single prayer. Every, single time.

Parting the clouds for me, was extremely kind and generous and we WERE able to see at least a few shooting stars. It was a nice night. But something bigger happened for me that night. Something I will never forget. My Father in Heaven showed me how much he cares and loves me. He told me I was special and important no matter what I wanted or what else was going on in the world. He will part the clouds for me. I will part the Sea for me. In a simple act of grace, He encouraged me to reach for the stars. (Or rather, watch the stars and reach for my goals.) He will make the way possible to accomplish anything in this world!

With God, all things truly are possible. I have been spending the last few weeks trying to understand that experience and I guess it may be something I work on my entire life. But, looking at my life, I know I have divine intervention. God can help me to know how to raise and care for my beautiful children. He knows what I need to get the rent paid. He knows what I should do to make loads of money, way beyond just paycheck to paycheck. He knows what I need to do to be healthy. He can part any cloud that stands in my way: traffic, lack of knowledge, difficult relationships, tragedies, self-doubt, lost keys, death, ANYthing. God says, “Prove me now herewith, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.” He shows us this again and again with the blessings poured out upon us. And sometimes gives us incredible reminders of what He will do for us.

With God, all things are possible. And I am trying to live my life to show it.

I commit to write again.

Hello anybody. I haven’t written for a couple of months. I made a commitment at one time to write because I’ve got so much inside me that I’ve just GOT to get out. And I wrote. I wrote about 7 or 8 posts. And had a lot more traffic than I really expected. I mean, I thought I’d have maybe my parents, maybe my siblings read my post. But on one of my early posts, I got over 150 views. That may not sound like a lot to a blogger, but to me, it was a lot of people who knew personal things about me. And, frankly, I was scared. Excited too, but mostly scared. I thought it was cool and I wrote a few more. Then one day somebody that I hadn’t talked to in several months mentioned my blog to me.

I was really surprised.

And.
I was scared. I felt too vulnerable and scared to write any more. I made up lots and lots of excuses to stop writing. And DEFINITELY to stop sharing. I didn’t want anybody to know THAT part. Or THIS wasn’t important enough for somebody to read about. It all turned into what readers would think. Besides, I was "too busy". So at first, I stopped writing altogether. Then I missed it too much and returned to my journal. Well, that fire is back inside me and I’ve just got to do something about it. So I’m sitting here tonight, blogging.

See, I LOVE life. I love it passionately and thoroughly. I have 2 little kids right now that bring me more joy than I can express. And I have these moments...These incredible, time stopping moments that are just pure heaven. I love my husband so much that in those rare moments that I get upset, I worry that maybe I’m making something up. Then I am proved that it really is that good. I experience miracles. I have seen clouds part and I have seen people healed. I live a different life than many people. But I want to share it. I want to show everybody in the world the good that is possible!!

Please don’t misunderstand and think that everything in my life is perfect. Or that I have everything together! I am a basketcase sometimes. But. I usually learn from those moments(---That was the original intention of this blog--to share the aftereffects of those crazy moments.)

I’ve got passion inside me and I just want to shout it out to the world. I’m not really as funny as I want to be. My posts are not just for entertainment. More than anything, they are for me. (hence the surprise that people were actually reading!)  But I also have an intention to inspire and uplift -and just be completely real. I’m human. And I’ve got some major faults that sometimes get in my way and hold me down.  I also have a gift for seeing and creating good. Anyway, this is just my public declaration that I will start writing again. And I will write if I have 6 views or 60,000. Because this is part of me.

It is very very hard for me sometimes to let people see all of me when I don’t know all of them. I’ve always hoped for equal reciprocation in a relationship. But I’m to a point in my life that I just can’t care about it. So. Here’s to more blogging. (If I had a glass of sparkling cider, I would tip it to you. Whoever YOU are. :) )

Why I Don't Watch the News

So I went to my neighbors the other day and she asked if I had heard about the tragedy of the firefighters. I had, I had seen it on facebook, but didn't know the details.

So we I logged onto a local news site and was, again, shocked at what I saw. A boy drowned in Lake Powell. A woman in Cirq de Sole died during performance. Police looking for suspect in home robbery. One Dead, one injured in Motorcycle crash on I-15. Mother charged with neglect of 2 year old.

My heart started racing. I thought of my babies. I thought of my husband. He drives home every single day. What if he got in an accident. I can't believe that lady died during the show! What terror! On the side bars were pictures of international calamities and wars. And then, there's always those few breaks from it all "Best of DownTown Abbey" and "Celebrity Maternity Styles" What is wrong with us!? We feed our minds on so much garbage! It's incredible to me sometimes.

I wish there was a way for me to know more about what is happening in my world than watching the news because, honestly, it just gives me nightmares. I KNOW there are terrible, tragic things happening all around me. But I also know there are magical, beautiful things happening all around me. I know there is evil, but I choose to focus on the good. I believe that people are mostly good. I honestly do. I say hello to strangers. When I watch the news, everybody becomes a perpetrator. I fear. That's what the news is today. Fear. Anything to get your heart racing, to make you question, to get you to say "WHA-" and stop midsentence to find out the story. It IS catchy! But it's also sick. And I don't want to think about living in a sick world.

Here's another thing. That headline "One DEAD in motorcycle crash." I read things like that and I feel no respect for that person's life! If that were MY family member, I would prefer euphemisms. Not that everything needs to be "Politically correct" (Another topic entirely) But the purpose of that title was to make you gasp and read more. There was no feeling for the family of the victim. If it is newsworthy, or if the purpose of the article 

And when there is a tragedy, a newsworthy happening, like tornadoes, floods, even bombs should probably be reported, but there needs to be respect. But there is none. Photographers find the most bloody, graphic shots they can get. There is very little EVER mentioned about the good deeds done, the people saved, the optimistic ones who can find hope, the miracles. Those things are not reported. I saw a clip a few weeks ago where the reporter was interviewing a man that had had some shrapnel hit his head. It was not a bad wound, but it bled down his face. They did not wipe it off for the interview. The man was clearly no longer in danger, and in any other circumstance would have found something to wipe his face on. But, for the sake of news, they let the blood run down his face till it was almost dry.

Bushwacked!

So I decided to trim the bushes at my apartment this week. I have a little spot of garden and grass in front of my kitchen window that I like to call my own. In the garden, there is a big bush that happens to sit directly in front of the sprinkler head. Silly design if you ask me. But because of it, my grass and flowers get no water! If it were my own house, I'd take the bush out all together. But, it's not. So I did the next best thing. I grabbed my bush clippers and went at it. I didn't have a plan, I have never trimmed a bush before, I just had the clippers. Even though my intentions in cutting were to clear it from the sprinkler in the back, I started in the front since the bush has also overgrown into the grass. I just looked at the bush and started clipping. I clipped a couple of small little leaves with just a couple branches when I looked down at the bottom of the bush. I thought to myself, if I just clip that larger branch, I will save myself a lot of time.  So clip clip. And another clip, clip. I stood back to look at my work....um...ooops!!

It looked awful. Terrible. There were no leaves in front on the bottom of the bush. Instead all I saw were sharply cut angles glaring back up at me. I realized my mistake too late. I checked around me to make sure no landlord or angry neighbors were coming to get me. I tried to cover it up, but it wasn't working.  What should I do? Well, there wasn't much I could do.  I tried to weave the remaining leaves and branches down a little. I looked at the branches I had just cut, they sat poised like mini javelins, aimed and ready to fire.  I began to trim them downward so they weren't quite so hideous. I trimmed a little slower this time. I stepped back and took it in. Ok, so it was a hack job.

Oh well.

And that's the lesson! Oh well! I did the best I could. There was nothing I could do to replace those quickly snipped branches. It is going to take all summer to grow back and won't look good again until next spring. I could pity myself. I could avoid my neighbors and just hope they don't notice (Or at least say anything.) I could save some money to try to plant a new bush. Or. I could just learn my lesson. And move on. Next year, I'll know better. I'll start in the back, work to the sides, then carefully trim up--not whack off-- the front, growing branches. Oh, and I'll probably do it much earlier in the year so growing leaves will easily cover up any mistakes. But so often in life we make a quick decision, and it ends up being the wrong one. Oh well! This is all summed up in the over used cliche of "Don't sweat the small stuff."

You want WHAT??

I have just recently come across a heavenly food known as quinoa. I love it! I think it is just incredible--It's more versatile than soy! (No, I'm not a vegetarian, and I don't eat soy, it was just a comparison. Anyway) I use it for cereals, I replace the ground beef in tacos, the meat in spaghetti sauce, I add it to salads and desserts and anything else I can think of. It's not the taste I love--I usually try to cover it up anyway, it's the texture I think. It's just soo yummy! Anyway- This post isn't even about that. But! It's good. So try it.

Quinoa, for those of you who don't know like I didn't, quinoa looks like little bird seeds before it's cooked. The first time I tried it, I had about 3 cups of the stuff in a clear plastic bag and tied tight with a twisty tie (you know, from Winco). My 2 year old found it and was fascinated by it. He wanted to squish it and poke holes in the bag. We explored it a little, learned about it, and I have since cooked it, as mentioned, for many different meals.

I never thought much about it, but quinoa is a weird word--especially to a 2 year old. There is another weird word in our language that I bet you had never thought about when you heard quinoa!  I hadn't either. Until my sweet boy accidentally pointed it out to me.  We were looking for a snack one day and, observant as he is, saw the fruit on the counter. Excitedly he told me "I. want. Quinoa." ---interruption here: My boy has the cutest little voice and is still learning to put all his words together so often his sentences are quite choppy. I love to listen to him talk!--- I was surprised. "You want quinoa?"  I was hoping maybe he had started to appreciate the delicacy I had found. So I happily got out the  plain quinoa while scanning my brain of what to prepare with it.

"What do you want with your quinoa, bud?" I asked enthusiastically. He looked at my container. He looked at me.

"No. I. want. quinoa."

"Buddy, this is quinoa. What do you want with it?"

"No, mom. Hold me, I show you."

I think it's so cute when he says that. So I picked him up as he directed me towards the fruit bowl on the counter. He pointed his little finger, "Quinoa."

I had a random mix of tomatoes, avocados, pears, and a few fuzzy little green fruits called KIWIS!

I laughed out loud. I took the kiwi and confirmed that THAT is what he wanted.  I took the kiwi and cut in in half. Then I took the bowl of quinoa and showed it to him. "Kiweeee?" Yeah, Kiwi. There is a HUGE difference in kiwi and quinoa.

It was a funny minute, but it made me think. How often do we miscommunicate with just one syllable? That's on kind of a grander scale, but relating directly to my little boy, how much of the English language sounds so similar? It was an obvious reminder of how much he is still trying to learn. I mean, in less than 30 months, he has learned to do EVERYTHING. Walk, talk, eat, grow, get dressed, figure out computers, brush his teeth, play, etc. He is still just a tiny little baby, just barely learning to talk! Sometimes I forget how tiny he is. Have you ever tried to learn a language? There's a lot to think about!   This moment gave me insight again on how hard his little brain is always working! Just to talk takes incredible concentration sometimes. It was a funny little lesson to remind me that, even though he communicates with me pretty well and I usually know what he wants, he is still just a little baby! So be patient with your little babies, they've got a lot to figure out!

I was ruining my child!

This post is about another experience I had awhile back, about 8 or 9 months ago I guess. A little background about my babies. Ryan didn’t sleep through the night until he was 23 months old. There were many nights when my sweetheart and I were up all night rocking and soothing and crying. We would cry as much as he did sometimes. Then we learned to take turns. We gained some sanity. Then things got a little better, but still, never sleeping through the whole night. It was very hard. I thought it was just Ryan. I thought I was alone and would never sleep again. We have since found the answers and life has been blissfully better, but it took a long time. It was hard. Looking back now, I really have no idea how we were able to keep our sanity. I can’t imagine not sleeping again. Anyway, surprisingly, after Katelyn was born, things got a lot better. He was able to go to sleep with only some soothing and even started sleeping through the night occasionally. When Katelyn was born, EVERYTHING about her was different from Ryan, but a significant difference was her sleeping. She would sleep 5 or 6 hours right away. She would eat well, nap well, and sleep in the night. It was incredible! I loved having a baby that I knew would go to sleep!! I didn’t worry about her sleep schedule, I just took it for granted. With her being such a good sleeper and Ryan learning to be so much better, things were definitely looking up! I was happy and rested. 

Then...things started to change. Ryan took a dip in his full night’s sleeps and naps were getting harder and harder. We had cycled a little with him before, so it was a little frustrating, but what was really getting to me was Kate! My little sleepy baby wasn’t sleeping anymore! She started waking up several times a night wanting to nurse and cuddle. I was getting tired. But what was even more difficult was putting her to sleep. I would go through the whole night time routine, get her all ready, put her in the crib, pat her to sleep and try to sneak out the door. As soon as I started to leave her cribside, she would cry. Then it got even worse as she would cry and fuss and scream before I even put her down. One time, for several days, she was especially fussy. It was just so tiring and so frustrating. The second I would put her down on her back in the crib, she would wake up and flail and cry. 


The inner turmoil in my mind was so great I couldn’t think straight. It was all my fault!! I was ruining another child! It wasn’t just Ryan’s personality that gave him a hard time, it was ME! I couldn’t handle it! The thought of 2 more years of never sleeping was so exhausting! What was I doing WRONG!! What was wrong with me! I thought it was Ryan, but since Katelyn had started out a good sleeper, the evidence was crystal clear: it was a flaw in my parenting! Why wouldn’t she sleep?! I was soo tired! What was the problem?! After the third night of agony, I was just beside myself! I was so angry and tired and frustrated and GUILTY. More than the fatigue or any lack of sleep, the GUILT of it all was tearing me apart!! That night my sweet husband finally took my crying baby from my weak arms and eventually rocked her to sleep. I went to bed alone. I was tired and angry and frustrated and alone. What had I done wrong to my babies?!? What did I not know that everybody else seemed to understand? I had RUINED another baby. (yeah, those were my thoughts. It was a very difficult night.) As I had for weeks with Katelyn and almost two years for Ryan, I prayed again. Frustration clouded my thoughts. Finally, my emotions boiled down and I was still inside. Tired, but still. Somehow the anger was gone and I could think.  I thought of my day. I thought of my kids. I thought of Katelyn. Then I realized she hadn’t had a dirty diaper in 3 days. The last 3 days of extreme fussiness!! I drifted to sleep.

The next morning, felt much better than yesterday or the day before. No real explanation, I just felt better inside. We went about our morning like usual, then Katelyn let out this really strange, painful cry and a little toot. I remembered my realizations (revelations) from the night before. My poor baby had a bad stomach ache and had for several days! I tried to lay her on her back and work on her tummy (Tummy massage--it’s magic, I know some awesome tricks!)  I massaged her through the fussiness and then put her in our kitchen sink for a bath. She was in the bath for a long time. Suddenly, she let out that strange cry and started grunting. I won’t go into details, but after much work on her part, and some help from me, she finally passed a very hard stool. It made her little bottom bleed and she cried. I got her out of the bath and dried, but then it happened again- more hard stool, a little more bleeding. I put her back in the sink to help comfort and soothe her. She stayed in the bath another 20 minutes or so. When she was ready to get out, I picked her up and she cracked and popped all the way down her back. (Like chiropractic adjustment kind of popping.) Lots of pops. I took her over to get dressed and when I put her on her back, she didn’t squirm for the first time in days. Apparently she'd had a backache too! I got her all ready and my little princess fell sound asleep! Blissful, deep, restful sleep! And she didn’t cry at all! I felt so happy. 

The whole thing was quite an experience for me. I felt bad that she had been in so much pain, but glad it was over. I felt bad that I didn’t know it, but grateful for the lessons I had learned.  I realized I had been so caught up in the frustration and guilt, that I hadn’t taken time to be quiet and listen for answers. I jumped to the conclusion that I was obviously the problem and that there was nothing I could do. I just needed to find somebody ELSE who knew the answer and could tell me. My GUILT had completely blocked me from receiving revelation. Projecting my fear into the future --my fear of years of never sleeping, fears of “ruining” my child, fear of being a bad mom--had kept me from finding ANY peace IN the moment. I really had not been THAT exhausted when I had tried to rock my baby to sleep. But the thoughts of how long this would go on was more consuming than anything I had physically felt. I was angry at myself. I was angry and my innocent baby. I was angry at everyone else who seemed to know more than me but were keeping this valuable information to themselves. Then, in a moment of quiet reflection, I found answers that had always available to me.

After realizing that there really was a problem- and there really was a solution- and that it wasn’t all my fault- and that I could really know what is best for my children- and being humbled by having my desperate prayers answered, I have been a lot more patient. I am more patient with myself, my kids, and with other people. The hardest part of those few days was not the crying baby, it was the awful, destructive thoughts going on in my head! I didn’t ruin my child! It wasn’t really all my fault. I wasn’t a bad mom. And nobody was purposefully keeping parenting secrets from me! I had to listen carefully to my heart and I found answers!

That’s what it was for Katelyn. With Ryan, I had to keep searching. I talked with friends, but I also prayed a lot. I had found answers for both my children’s sleeping problems! For Katelyn, it was a simple answer. For Ryan, it took a little more work. I researched and read whatever I could, I consulted with friends. But, always, I checked with my heart to know what he really needed. What works for one child doesn’t work with every child. Eventually, a good friend gave me a book and about 10 days later, our lives changed completely as our son FINALLY started sleeping through the night and napping regularly.

I was so grateful for those 3 days that were so hard for me because it led me to seek answers. And, although I would NEVER want it again, and part of me wishes I had found answers earlier, I learned so much about patience and being present with Ryan, that I’m grateful for that time too. As mothers, we have divine stewardship over our children and a gift and responsibility to know their needs. Sometimes guilt and frustration can get in the way, but when we are able to put that aside, when we seek sincerely, answers will come. I have experienced this so many times, I just can’t deny it!

I Underestimated Myself

So I have a quick analogy, a good lesson in life. Saturday I was walking through my neighborhood and I saw a low hanging tree branch. I thought, I think I can reach that. Maybe.. I was just going to jump and hang on a second. I love climbing trees, but I had both my kids in front of me. And, well, it wasn't my tree, So I was just going to see if I could grab the branch, maybe just touch it. So I looked around to make sure nobody was looking and I hopped up in the air. To my surprise, I didn't just reach it, I jumped higher! A good couple inches higher and ended up catching my wrist  against the branch on the way down.  Wow. I guess I'm better than I thought. Gee wiz! What a good thought! I looked at the small scratch on my arm. Now THAT'S a good lesson. How much in life do I underestimate myself? How often do you? I think we all do it waay too much. We are so much more than we think. We have so much more capacity than we ever attempt to reach. I took a look at my goals and aspirations in life and decided there are a few things I need to change. I have some goals that I could reach with just an easy hop. So I hopped- and then set my sight on a higher branch. For example- exercise. I finished Insanity about a month ago, got a cold, and my daily exercise since has been a walk with my kids. Kind of a low branch, I think! So I started Insanity again this morning. And I'm gonna finish again. It's a pretty amazing program. If you are interested in being online accountability
 buddies, let me know! Either way, hope you take this invitation to look through your goals and/or habits, see where You are underestimating yourself, and reach for something higher. (Before you scratch yourself.) Thanks for reading! Have a good day.

Just a Peaceful Moment

Sigh. The babies are sleeping. How beautiful. The house is a little messy, but I don’t care. I have time to myself. I read some facebook (all important fb) and now I get to just be. I get to do whatever I want. And right now, I want to just share the joy in my life. It is a beautiful spring day. I’ve had a great morning. I’ve had a great week. Do you ever just sit quietly and think of your blessings? I love to do this. It’s always been a strength that has brought light and love into my life. I just looked around my “little apartment.” Wow, I have a lot. Two couches, a TV, toys, (Enough toys to make a mess within 15 minutes of waking) A table, a fridge, stove, and dishwasher. Food in the fridge, dishes in the sink, dishes in the cupboards.  A computer, a Bible, a phone, a radio. I love it. I won’t go through my whole house. That would be boring for you to read. But I think about it. I think about all I have.

And as I think about all these things, I also know that it has nothing to do with anything. It has no real value. If it were all gone, every bit, I really would be just fine. I’ve actually been to a place in my life where I faced that reality. We were financially broke. And yet, even in the very moment of thinking of losing everything I own, I felt content and happy. I could see more. I could see a bigger picture.

I am also incredibly, immeasurably blessed with a nearly perfect husband and two perfect little babies. Knowing that I have them forever makes anything easier. And taking time like this to think about the sweet and giggles of my playing children or the tender smile of my handsome husband reminds me what life really is all about.

And then. I think even deeper for a minute. I read a book a couple months ago about a girl in Rwanda, Africa entitled Left To Tell. I recommend everybody read it. Go to your library and check it out. It is powerful. This girl lost everything INCLUDING her beautiful family. Her mother, father, brothers, and friends were all brutally murdered and everything she owned was stolen or destroyed.  It is a heartbreaking, TRUE story about the power of love, forgiveness, and the Glory of God.

And as I sit here in my perfect kitchen with my perfect sleeping babies living my perfect life, I am grateful to take a moment to think about MY purpose and God’s purposes and what this life is really all about.

Thank you for sharing this with me and taking time to read. I hope you will take time today. :)

LIES

You were born to great privilege and with that comes specific obligations.

I have had a belief that has held me back as long as I can remember. It has stopped me from talking to people, stopped me from connecting to hurting souls. It has stopped me from sharing my light because I have felt that I had no right, no place, no possible understanding of what somebody was going through. How could I lift someone higher if i didn't know what they were going through? Because I had been so greatly blessed, I had no right to speak to anybody who was struggling. These are my most desperate, inner thoughts and I am tired of it holding me back. I am breaking through them in this instant as I write. I’ve had these thoughts in me forever and they have been surfacing more and more. Two days ago, somebody shared a quote from the movie Ever After. “You were born to great privilege, and with that comes specific obligations.”  That was the push. That was the last straw and here I am. Scared; but in power at the same time. I was born to great privilege and with that comes specific obligations and great responsibility. So. Here goes.

I was born to a good family in a good home. I was given a gift that is becoming more rare all the time. I have two good parents who love each other and love their children. Good, Christian parents who did their very best to teach us faith and teach us what they believed to be good, solid life principles. We ate dinner together and prayed together every night. My family treated each other with respect.

I have never been abused. In any way. I never got beat or raped by an adult. I never got beat up, or even hardly bullied at school. I’ve never had somebody yell at me incessantly. I’ve never allowed anybody to belittle me much. I haven’t always had good self-esteem, but I knew it was wrong to be treated mean and never stood for it.

I have a nearly perfect husband. We have the most romantic love story and he is my best friend. We don’t have “marriage problems” because he is so patient and kind and we communicate openly and sincerely with each other.

I grew up in a pretty nice neighborhood. I mean, first of all, I grew up in America. That in and of itself can be considered prestigious. But when I went to sleep at night, I didn’t fear. We had no bars on our windows. I even walked through the neighborhood sometimes at night. It’s not always a smart idea, but I felt safe and knew all my neighbors.  When I heard sirens, my little mind thought, “Oh, I hope that person is ok.” I didn’t think about drug busts or violence. Some of this is personality, some of it is circumstance.  I was always in awe at how beautiful our neighborhood was in the spring time. One of my neighbors had lilac bushes that I loved and somehow the soft fragrance made the world seem perfect.

I have never gone hungry. Growing up, we always had food in our house. Even though my parents struggled financially, I could never see it. They would tell us we didn’t have money, but I could clearly see: I still had a house. We still had food. My parents always had a car or two, even if my Dad was always working on it. I was always able to go to the store and see that food was available. I remember when I was about 7 years old going shopping with my mom and seeing the rows and rows of food. I remember crying because I felt grateful for what I had, but guilty that not everybody had this. I was seven. I cared about people. Everywhere.  I wanted every person to have what I had. But I knew it was not possible to ever give enough to feed the world. So I felt guilty.

I have an incredible body. Everybody on this earth does. I mean, just think about skin for a minute. It is amazing! It grows by itself. If you get a cut, your skin knows how to heal itself. It knows how to regulate your temperature. It’s waterproof! It’s strong, it’s sensitive, it’s amazing. Then, think about our muscles. Ok, I won’t go into all that now, but I have spent countless hours just thinking about how awesome our physical bodies are. One thing I always did in school was just open and close my fist and think about how many nerves and muscles and everything it took just to make that action. I would think about how grateful I was for just that movement. It was a way to change my thinking and an easy place to start counting my blessings.

I see things like that. I see the world differently than many people I know. And I’ve always wanted to share it. I’ve always wanted a way to show thousands of people how incredible life really is. When I was little, we used to watch a show about Real-Life Heroes. I wanted to be a hero. BUT. I couldn’t be. I’m not Great.

I used to wish something bad would happen to me just so I could show my greatness. If I got in a car accident or something terrible, I would be so positive and the whole hospital staff would like me. I would be able to lift their spirits and remind them of the good in life.  I could be Great. When I think of people who are Great, I think of people who have really accomplished a lot in this world. People who have been able to inspire and uplift others. But Great People always seem to have their ‘story’. They started out in an abusive home, they overcame drug addictions, they have been homeless etc. They started out with nothing and have risen to the top--and now they have the right to speak to others so that they can say, “I’ve been there, I know.” And “Look at me, look where I am now.” And “If I can do it, so can you.” They become a Hero. They inspire others because they overcame, they excelled despite problems and barriers. They are Great........Greater than I ever could be. Because I started out good - the odds don't seem stacked against me. Because I don’t have an obvious mountain to climb.  I have always had so much inside me. I have always wanted to show people the greatness I see around us. But I have no story. I can’t say those things that help others relate to me.

At least, that is lie that has been holding me back. The lie is: If I haven’t experienced something myself, I cannot relate to another person who has, I cannot have empathy; since I cannot relate, I cannot  adequately serve or lift another. I cannot learn vital life lessons without going through every experience.  As I have identified this lie, brought it to my conscious mind, and written it down, I have seen the absurdity. Seriously?!? I’ve believed that?! Yeah. Consciously and unconsciously. I just haven’t been open enough to truly express it. I remember crying at girl’s camp one summer because some of the girls had an emotional conversation about their trials and I felt like I couldn’t be a part of it because I wouldn’t understand. I felt like I had so much good in my life that I couldn't cry with them. I have held back insights and advice when friends have talked to me because I thought they felt I wouldn’t understand. They were coming to me for help, and I held back! Because of my own insecurities.

I honestly have believed that I need to experience an observable tragedy in order to be able to stand in power.

But let’s get real! So I’m not an orphan who grew up in the harshness of the streets. So I’m not starving in a 3rd world country, or even the inner cities of America. So I haven’t experienced every terror and heartbreak and trial out there. Nobody has! Even Job didn’t experience everything! But I have had my hardships and my heartbreak. I have heard and listened to the lies. I have had the same dark, ugly thoughts of unworthiness, ugliness, inadequacy, fear, depression, anger, frustration, victimhood, and worthlessness as everybody else. I know because I’ve started to listen to people. Really Listen. And. I’ve started to listen to myself and to my own thoughts. I’ve seen when, where, and why I have been so depressed and held back. The dark thoughts that go through my head have said the SAME thing that have gone through the head of the most awful victim. THAT’S HOW THE DEVIL WORKS!!  He wants us to be miserable. So he tells us lies that we are UNWORTHY. He tells the SAME lies to EVERYBODY. It doesn’t matter what you have gone through, he will tell you that it’s because you are not good enough. I am not good enough to have obvious “trials” like people around me. Maybe I am too weak to handle it. You are not good enough and that’s why you don’t have enough money. She is not good enough and that’s why somebody took advantage of her. He is not good enough and that’s why his mom had to die. LIES!!! They hold us down. These false beliefs keep us from becoming Great. We begin to live our life according to our experiences, or rather, our perceptions of those experiences and what we feel they say about us. The truth is, our worth is no more defined by our experiences than a car by it’s color. Our worth is not defined by our circumstances. Or our race or religion or beliefs or background or anything. It is not what you’ve been through that makes you Great or worthless. We each have divine worth just because we ARE. Nothing we do or don’t do, nothing we experience or don’t experience can add to or take away from that worth. We are worthy and we are Great because we are children of GOD.

God loves us. He wants us to be like Him. But we are not. We are imperfect. We each have weaknesses to overcome and lessons we need to learn. So God is giving us the opportunity to learn those lessons in the experiences of this life. Every experience you or I have EVER been through--good, bad, ugly, easy, hard, is ALL for our learning and growth to perfection. If you have been hurt, you have the opportunity to give forgiveness. If you have caused pain, you have to opportunity to receive forgiveness. I truly, honestly, and sincerely believe that good can come from EVERY situation that has ever occurred on this planet. I believe in a God who is that aware, that all knowing, that full of Love and concern for every, single one of His creations, especially His children. He KNOWS us. He LOVES us. Every single child is unique and special and sacred and WORTHY. We each have different, unique needs and our lives are perfectly orchestrated to meet those needs.

In this perfect plan, each of us are blessed with a specific purpose. We all have unique gifts to give and unique challenges to overcome. We all have unique lessons to be learned that can only be learned the way that we are experiencing life right now.

I have experienced the life I have for a reason. I have lessons to learn of acceptance and abundance. I have many, many lessons to learn. Last year I had a conversation with my sweet Brady about where we were going to live, I expressed some of these feelings of unworthiness and of not being able to relate to anybody. I told him that if I were to live in a mud hut in some tiny village, I know I would be so happy. I would just love it and be the happiest little girl in the village. I would be able to show everyone around me the joy of just living. And nobody would be able to say, “Of course you’re happy, look at what you have.” I know myself and I know my spirit and I would be happy with very, very little. But Brady helped me to see that by saying that, by saying “if my situation were different” I was hiding behind my ‘story’ or experience just as much as somebody in the opposite situation. (A person in a hut saying they’d be able to truly express themselves in a house.) I was allowing myself to be held back because of LIES. I felt unworthy to shine my great light. I have allowed my situation to keep me from living who I really am, from being Great. I am a daughter of God. I have unique gifts to give and I have a unique purpose in this life.

My experiences are not your experiences. You have been through hard things. I have been through hard things, and most of it in my mind. I have struggled with feelings of unworthiness, just as so, so many others. But I am tired of hiding. I don’t believe the lie anymore. I am ready to let go of my story and just share what I know! I know who I am and I understand that most people in this world are not reaching their true potential. I know how to see the world as a beautiful and perfect place. I know how to love and to lift others. Because that’s who I am. And somehow, aside from anything I have or have not gone through in this mortal life, my mind, my spirit, my soul knows that. I know that this is my calling. This is who I am. I am a light. I bring joy. My only desire is to bring people up and see how perfect life can be. I am optimistic. I am not perfect. But I sincerely want to be. And I want the whole world around me to be. All of my life I have allowed lies like this to keep me down. I don’t want to cower any more. Yes, I have been extremely blessed. If you are reading this, you have been too. And if you have been blessed, you have specific obligations, and more than that, you have special gifts to bring into this world and to share with other people. I am standing up and standing out. My goal in life is to live true to who I am. I will be happy in a hut or in a mansion and I will live my life to bring others joy and do all I can to help you see the good in your life. However, I certainly have my problems too. And so with my declaration, I also ask that you help me too. As we go through this life, we may struggle, but we will learn and grow and it is in the growth that we find so much joy. It is in the joy that we meet our specific obligations as well as fulfill the measure of our creation!

I let my boy wear mascara

This is my very first blog post ever. I am not going to waste time on an introduction or anything right now, I just want to get my story out and maybe it will help you. I will get all that stuff done later. I have been putting this off for too long. So here goes. 
I guess it will be helpful to know that I have two adorable children and one incredible husband.  I learn so much from them and I feel like I should share what I learn. This first story is about my little boy. It’s a few months old, but this was one of those moments in time that changed forever forward. And. I’m going to use their names instead of nicknames, because, well, that’s what I call them. My son is Ryan, my daughter is Katelyn. Please protect them. If you have any ill intent, leave now. Thanks. :) 
Ok, getting on with it. Last summer, Katelyn was about 5 or 6 weeks old is all. (which means Ryan was 16 months.) I had been nursing her and had just laid her down for her nap. I had noticed that Ryan had been quiet for a few too many minutes. 

Now, if you knew my son, you would know that a LOT can happen in just a few minutes. He is what Carol Tuttle classifies as a Type 3 Determined Child. (I highly recommend her and her books.) He is ALWAYS moving and exploring and climbing and going and doing ANYthing he puts his mind to. So, a few minutes of silence is often cause for...if not alarm, at least a check-on to see what’s going on. I never really know what I might find. 

So I quietly walked down the hall and found him in the bathroom. He was standing on the side of the bathtub which made me smile, but then he looked up at me and to my terror, had my mascara ALL over his face! I didn’t stop to see that he smiled at me with pride at what he had done. He pointed to his eyes, “Eyes!” he said happily. I gasped and ran to him. I didn’t stop to think that he was doing exactly what he had seen me do every morning. I didn’t acknowledge what he had accomplished. All I saw was a mess. All I saw was that he was in my stuff--again! MY stuff. All I saw was that, despite my efforts to stop him, he had “gone behind my back” to do exactly what I had told him not to several times.  I yanked the mascara from his hand and shouted “No! Ryan, No! That’s bad!” (Even writing this is still kind of hard to admit and remember! And this is why I must get it out!) 

I saw the look on his face immediately. He was terrified that I would shout at him. Confused at my anger and hurt by my reaction to his amazing accomplishment. Instantly he burst into full on tears. It was like somebody had sprayed him with a water gun. He gave me one last tear-my-heart-out look that told me I had just done the same to him before he ran out of the bathroom. He ran into my bedroom and cried and cried. It had all happened so fast! I couldn’t believe what I had just done! I ran after to apologize, to make it right. I realized what I had done. I tried to make it better by taking a picture, you know, “something to laugh at later.” But he just kept crying. (I eventually deleted the photo because it hurt too much to look at.) I couldn’t console him. I felt so foolish. How was I so blind? My heart ached. I remembered how it felt when anybody even raised their voice at me--I was quite a sensitive little girl. Finally, he let me hold him close. I prayed and cherished the embrace. I pulled the mascara from behind my back. I had still held it, not wanting him to “ruin my stuff.” But now, my pride was gone. Nothing, especially a stupid tube of mascara was worth hurting my little baby boy over. I let him hold it. Again, he pointed to his eyes, “Eyes.” I asked him if he was proud of himself for all that he had done. He was. And now I could see it too. I mean, to get to it, he had to climb up onto the toilet, onto the counter, look thru my box, find the mascara, get all the way back down, open the tube, and even get it up near his eyes. Although it was all over his face, he had definitely succeeded in covering his long lashes. 

I asked his forgiveness, which he freely gave. He buried his messy face into my shoulder. We went outside to change to mood. He loves outside. I didn’t care that he was wearing only a diaper and socks. I didn’t care that his hair was unruly. And I didn’t care that I hadn’t washed his face from all the mascara. Or that new neighbors were moving in. It did cross my mind that it must look silly, but it didn’t matter.  I only cared that he was happy. My tiny little boy. He is so innocent and precious. That night I prayed a long time. I replayed the entire situation. Only this time, I asked my Savior to come and be with us as it happened. I asked for Ryan’s protection against my anger for just a moment so that I could learn this valuable, vital lesson. I asked forgiveness and gave sincere thanks for the Atonement that covers mistakes like this and gave thanks for what I learned. I committed to do better next time. And this has honestly made such a difference in my life. It has changed the way I interact with my son and my daughter and everybody around me.

I know now life has nothing to do with “my stuff” or with my baby “disobeying me”. Obedience has nothing to do with raising children anyway. AND children aren't "bad." It's just not possible for a baby to do something bad. What’s important is to allow them to be who they really are. And to learn from them. Not only to learn about what they need to do, but what I need to do and who I need to become.

The very next day, he hit his sister for the first time. I didn’t even think to gasp and react harshly--yesterday’s experience was still too vivid. I calmly spoke with him and helped him understand his feelings and how to be nice. I was so grateful that I had learned so much the day before with something insignificant like mascara instead of with something so precious as his relationship with his sister. God really is gracious like that! Later, when I saw the diaper cream all over both his hands and mouth and all over the couch, I didn’t get mad. I had him help me clean it up. When he pushed a chair over to the counter, got up and into the cupboard, got down the bread, dumped it out on the floor and took a bite out of every piece, I could see how amazing this little boy is. I see his determination. I see his diligence. He is so smart. So incredible. So childlike. So perfect. And I am allowing him to do his Divine job--teaching me.

I have to admit. Sometimes I allow supervised makeup play. He does a lot less damage when I'm there. And I know all he wants to do is play and explore and figure things out. Don't judge when you see my boy with eye shadow and mascara. I'm sure he'll grow out of it. After all, he's just barely figuring out that he's a "BOY!"