Catching the Vision

What’s this word, bud? … Focus … Sound it out … Focus …

Steven and I are working through the Teach Your Child to Read book right now. Anyone who has used this program knows what an agonizing process it is. Perhaps for the parent even more than for the child.

Yet we continue the struggle, because I have a vision of how this skill will transform his life. It will bring joy, opportunities, and new perspectives. It will be the foundation of his education, career, and spiritual growth.

He catches a bit of the vision sometimes, but he can’t see beyond how fun it will be to read Piggie and Gerald. He has no idea what is truly in store. No wonder he fights against the stretching of his abilities.

I am so grateful for the Lord who is by my side, patiently tutoring me, even when I fight against His lessons. He suffers pain and agony far beyond what I endure in my stretching trials.

He continues when I want to give up, because He has a vision of how my life can be transformed. He sees the eternal joy, opportunities, and new perspectives when I can only see the end of the day. I have no idea what is truly in store, but He knows.

I hope I can trust enough to truly give myself to His transformative training.

Also on Instagram, @godly__parenting

Seek and Ye Shall Find

“... 18, 19, 20. Ready or not, here I come!”

(Seeking for two seconds...)

“I’m right here!!”

There have been many games of hide and seek with the neighborhood kids the last few months. Even though Annie is only 3 they are always so sweet to include her in their games, but this is how every round turns out.

The joy for her comes in being found.

I think Christ feels the same way.

To captive Israel, He said, “Ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart” (Jer 29:13).

When we seek Him, we will find Him. That’s a promise from our God.

He is not the hider you seek for twenty minutes until everyone gives up. He is like Annie, the one who jumps out the moment you begin to seek because He wants to be found. He reveals Himself, joyfully announcing, “I’m right here!”

Also on Instagram, @godly__parenting

The Tooth Fairy is {Not} Real

"I put it under my pillow, then the tooth fairy comes and magically turns it into a dollar!" 

Even before she lost her first tooth two years ago, Jane knew the truth about the tooth fairy. We made the decision to tell her about Santa from the beginning in an attempt to keep Christmas more focused on Christ, and she easily extrapolated the "it's fun to pretend but it's really Mom and Dad" idea to the Easter bunny and the tooth fairy. 

Yet as she showed Annie the tooth she lost yesterday, she explained things only how she wanted them to be and not how she knows they really are. 

When I came into my room last night, I found the tooth fairy costume Jane made on my bed, complete with wings, cape and wand. (Apparently the tooth fairy is both super and magical around here.)

This is great. Jane is 7 and Annie is 3. I love to see their creativity, and I'm glad they still get to enjoy the magic of childhood even though they know they're just pretending.

But it made me think. What myths do we hold on to, share, and disguise until we believe them? There are "tooth fairies" of many shapes and sizes.

Happiness comes from wealth, popularity, and attaining the perfect body.

All truth is relative.

I'm not a good mom unless ... [fill in your unrealistic expectation].

My choices only affect me.

Chastity is outdated.

These types of myths are elaborately costumed in expert claims, cultural trends, and specialized apps. With their skillfully constructed wings, capes, and wands they almost seem real and it can feel impossible to determine where the truth actually lies.

But there is a way.

"For the Spirit speaketh the truth and lieth not. Wherefore, it speaketh of things as they really are, and of things as they really will be."

When we seek the truth from Him who is called "the Truth," He will teach us as the children we are and help us understand what is eternally real. These myths may feel as real to us as the tooth fairy to a child, but His spirit will cut through the lies and help us see past the costumes. We will realize that when we cling to things that are pretend, we will only find pretend happiness.

But it's hard to be different. It's embarrassing to show up in plain clothes when everyone else is in costumes.

I remember being the only one of my friends who no longer believed in Santa. I felt lonely and a little bit crazy. They were so convinced. They had so much "evidence." Maybe I was wrong.

It can feel that way when we don't believe the generally accepted myths. Alone. A little crazy. Confused. 

But ultimately my friends all learned what I knew. And one day all truth will come to light. We can stand confidently in the truth as we stand with the Truth.

Upon Thy Belly Shalt Thou Go

How long will she stay like this? 

How long can I savor this innocence? 

I looked at newborn Kate one day, lying on her belly, and felt this familiar tug—the desire to

freeze that moment forever. 

Then a phrase unexpectedly popped into my mind. "Upon thy belly shalt thou go... all the days of thy life." The curse given to Satan after he tempted Eve to eat Eden's forbidden fruit. 

I looked again at my sweet, completely helpless baby. I realized that I wanted the memory of that moment to last forever, but it would be such a tragedy for her if she never progressed beyond lying on her belly. 

And yet that is exactly Satan's fate. In his rebellion, he lost the opportunity for progression. He will remain forever in an infantile state. 

Six months later, Kate was sitting. Then in another six she was walking. 

Now eighteen months later she is running, dancing, and bursting with personality. She's delightful! Watching her turn into a kid has been such a joy. 

Looking at my older kids I know that in the next few years she will learn to talk, color, swing, and read. And that progression will continue throughout life and into eternity. 

Progression is one of the great purposes and blessings of mortality. Those who follow the Savior will progress to one day become like Him. 

But "he that believeth not shall be damned." Just like Satan, their progression will be halted. They will not be able to reach their full potential, for that fullness is found only in Christ. 

May we enjoy the progress, development, and growth of true believers.

He Understands

I was recently reflecting on an experience that happened about six years ago during an incredibly trying time. I have gone through much harder things since, and it feels almost laughable looking back that I struggled so much through this period, but at the time I was stretched beyond my limit--a feeling I've experienced many times since, and so this lesson continues to be applicable and helpful.

At the time, Miguel was several months into his third year of medical school which is when clinical rotations begin. He would sometimes go days without seeing Jane and he worked 30 hour shifts every fourth day, one of which caused him to miss our 2nd anniversary. My work as an online high school teacher was also very busy at the time with the end of a school quarter approaching and Jane was about 9 months old. While she was fun and happy, she was also mischievous and hated to sleep, only napping about once a week.

On an especially rough day I had finally gotten Jane to fall asleep and as I walked into the kitchen to start the dishes, I just broke down. I think I said out loud, "No one understands this who hasn't experienced it."  Immediately a phrase came to mind that I had heard over and over in Sunday School classes, "Jesus Christ perfectly understands everything we experience." I had depended on that truth through many trials in my life, but I found myself questioning, "Does He really understand? He has never been married to a medical student who works 80 hours a week. He never had to work from home while trying to take care of a baby who doesn't sleep! How could He possibly understand what I'm going through?"

The answer came as a kind but clear chastisement. "That is like someone who stubbed their toe telling someone who had their leg amputated, 'You don't understand what I'm going through!' The amputee perfectly understands everything up to the level of his experience."

Jesus Christ descended below all things. There is nothing outside the level of His experience. His Atonement is truly infinite in breadth and depth. He does understand. He  lived in the flesh and suffered the Atonement specifically so He could understand. So He could strengthen us through our difficulties, so He could weep with us and hurt with us, even though He knows that a miracle is coming, because it always does in one way or another when we trust Him.

"And he will take upon  him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities." (Alma 7:12)

Cleaning Messes and Molding Souls

As a stay-at-home mom I often feel like my entire existence consists of making it look like life never happened. 

Make the basement look like all the toys didn't get dumped. 
Make the shirt look like it wasn't used as a napkin. 
Make the window screen look like someone didn't cut it with scissors. 

It can feel like I'm just undoing rather than creating, which is exhausting and unfulfilling.

But that's not exactly what I'm doing. While there are infinite messes to clean in motherhood, each time I say, "Let's clean this up together" or "How can we make this right?" I invite my children into the transformative process of purification. I work beside them as they learn to fix their mistakes, and when they have put forth their pathetic effort at sweeping or refolding clothes or using wood filler, I come behind and finish the job. 

It feels like we are just ending the day where we started (if we're lucky), but something magical is happening in the process. The kids are learning how to clean, how to mend mistakes and relationships, how to apologize and to forgive. Their souls are stretching and growing. And as we continue day after day and year after year in what often seems like a mundane, repetitive process, they will eventually be ready to step into the role I now have. 

It is the role of counselor, fixer, comforter, and teacher. It is a role that mirrors that of the Savior. 

On the surface it may seem that the purpose of Christ's Atonement is just to "clean up" our mistakes--the ones that we make over and over and over again, and to make it seem like the tragedies and sins of life never happened. It is true that we can be fully and completely cleansed through the power of His grace. When we have put forth our pathetic effort to right our wrongs, He is our finisher. 
But, His role is not merely to undo mistakes and get us back where we started mortality. It is to transform us into new creatures until we become like Him. He invites us into the purification process when he says, "Come now and let us reason together." In a sense He is saying of our sins, "Let's clean this up together" and He walks and works alongside us as our souls stretch and grow.  

Truly, as parents we are His partners in this process, for messes and mistakes are the building blocks of both childhood and salvation. 

Beauty in Brokenness

As I looked at a tray of squished blueberries in front of Kate this morning, I realized that if I had seen them anywhere else I would have thought, "Gross!" and thrown them away without a thought, assuming they had been stepped on and were dirty. 

But since I knew how they got there and why they were squished, I wasn't disgusted; I was fascinated. I took time to look at the different colors and textures and found beauty that I never noticed in squished blueberries before. I explored how much pressure it took before they popped open, and appreciated that they did because that's the only way Kate could enjoy them. 

I thought of the people we see in life who are broken. Too often we pass an instant judgment, even thinking of them as dirty in some way, and discard them from our circle. Sometimes we even think that about ourselves. 

But if we could see through God's eyes and understand why they are broken (for we all are) and how they got there, we would see a beauty we hadn't noticed and be fascinated with colors and textures of humanity we hadn't experienced before. 

Mary Pipher wrote of her experience working with refugees, "I have a much broader sense of what being human can entail." I think that expanded view of humanity is the natural result for all of us as we enjoy each other in our brokenness. And just like Kate with blueberries, that's the only way we can truly be enjoyed—popped open with our true colors, flavors and textures exposed. 

It's not easy to show our own brokenness, or to get to know others well enough to understand theirs, but when we do the result is always love—both for ourselves and others. Mary Lou Kownacki said, "There isn't anyone you couldn't love once you've heard their story." 

Let's embrace the beauty of our brokenness so we can enjoy, and be enjoyed—all across the broad sense of humanness, in all our juicy flavors. 

A Soft Answer Turneth Away [My] Wrath

When I only had one kid I was a mother of endless patience and fun (at least most of the time). Even when Jane wouldn't nap as a baby, even when she was clingy or disobedient, even when she was screaming and I was tired-- I never, ever yelled at her. Then I had a second kid.

When Steven was born, I turned into someone I didn't even recognize and definitely didn't like. A crying baby and a crying toddler were more than I could handle and I yelled more times than I can count, "Stop yelling!" and then I usually started crying because I didn't want to be yelling at my kids, but I couldn't stop.

For the past two and half years I have read several books and tried different reminders and practices to re-learn patience. And I'm making progress anyway. The transition to three kids was a million times smoother because I'm at least a mostly nice mom again.

One of the most important lessons I'm learning comes from Proverbs 15:1: "A soft answer turneth away wrath, but grievous words stir up anger."

I used to read this scripture thinking it was akin to Dale Carnegie's advice of how to influence (or manipulate) other people. I thought it meant that if someone was angry with me and I could respond kindly, it would kill their anger and they'd smile and hug me instead. Sometimes this is true, but unfortunately angry people are often just angry no matter what we do.

But fortunately, we are only responsible for our own choices. As I often tell my kids, "You just worry about you." It turns out, this scripture has the same aim. It's not meant as a weapon to disarm my enemy, it's meant as strategy to disarm myself. A soft answer turns away MY wrath.

When my kids glue art projects to their walls, sneak nutella into bed but forget to put the lid back on, dump an entire dresser of clothes to build a fort, or clog the bathtub with bread (all of which happened yesterday), I just need to worry about me first. If I can muster a soft response before my anger explodes out my mouth, it will be turned away. But if I let the harsh words come out, my anger will be stirred up.

My kids don't do these things because they hate me, they do these things because they are kids-- Heavenly Father's kids who He is sharing with me for a while. A soft answer helps me remember that.

I'm Just Refilling Your Spoon!

Annie is eating solid foods now, and she loves it. As I fed her blended pasta and carrots last night, she started screaming every time I took the spoon away to get another bite. I kept telling her, "It's okay. Calm down. I'm just refilling your spoon." But she just held on and let me know how angry she was.

I couldn't help but think of Elder Holland's quote as she gripped her empty spoon: "You can have what you want, or you can have something better."

I was also reminded of an experience when a kind Heavenly Father patiently waited for me to let go of my plans so he could refill my 'blessings spoon' and give me exactly what I needed.

I was nearing the end of my pregnancy with Jane and trying to figure out how we were going to make it through two more years of medical school without my income. I was teaching high school and tutoring after school to save as much money as possible, but it was going to be extremely tight. So I started looking for other part-time options.

I found the "perfect" job. It was at a tutoring center downtown, just one stop away on the train line, and the hours would be flexible so I could work when Miguel was home to take care of Jane. The interview went great, I loved the owners, the other tutors, and the environment. But I got a phone call a week later saying I didn't get the job.

In the moment, I was completely devastated. But looking back, I can almost hear Heavenly Father saying, "It's okay. Calm down. I just had to take it away so I could refill your blessings spoon."

I didn't get what I wanted, but once I let go and trusted Him, He gave me something better.

I received a phone call a few weeks later from the director of an online school where I had been tutoring. She said she'd received great reviews from several students I'd worked with and offered me a part-time teaching position on the spot.

Since I was able to work from home while caring for Jane, Miguel and I still had an income and we could protect our limited time together. It was a million times better than the "perfect" job I thought I had figured out.

Next time plans fall apart or it feels like good things are being ripped out of my hands, I hope I'll stay calm and trust that a loving Heavenly Father is just refilling my blessings spoon.

It's Hard to Talk to Someone When They're Crying

Just before Annie was born, we finally succeeded in moving Jane and Steven into the same room. We tried to make this transition several times over the preceding months, but it never worked until Steven learned to fall asleep without screaming for 20 minutes. Fair enough. Jane didn't like hearing him scream, so she would yell for us to come get him, which would just set off the screaming again, at which point we just moved him back into the other room.

But the move was finally successful, and they love it! They tell each other jokes, sing songs and talk themselves to sleep most nights now.

One day, I asked Jane how she liked sharing a room with Steven (she loves it), and we reminisced about the challenge of moving him in there. Her summary was this: "Before I couldn't talk to him because he was always screaming. It's hard to talk to someone when they're crying."

Jane's simple wisdom made me wonder how many times the Lord has thought the same thing about me: "It's hard to talk to you when you're crying." How often has He tried to teach me, comfort me or direct me, but He can't because I'm too busy crying and complaining? How much divine instruction have I missed?

When I come to Him in prayer, am I ready to listen and really talk with Him? Or am I missing what He wants to tell me because I just want to cry about everything that's hard or unfair or unknown in my life?

I hope I can have a fresh relationship with Heavenly Father, filled with joy and meaning-- just like Jane and Steven achieved when he learned to stop crying.

Jesus is the Real Light of Christmas

As we were driving the other night, Jane kept looking out the window and saying, "I'm trying to find Jesus. I'm trying to find Jesus. There's Jesus!" Then she explained, "Jesus is another word for Christmas lights."

At first I felt like this was kind of sacrilegious, but I quickly realized that Jane was seeing the true purpose behind all of the decorations and festivities of Christmas--Jesus.
As Elder Bednar recently implored in the First Presidency Christmas Devotional, "May the beautiful lights of every holiday season remind us of Him who is the source of all light."

Everything about Christmas ought to be a reminder and representation of Christ. We talk about finding Christ in Christmas as if He is hidden somewhere amidst the gifts, lights, cards, goodies, trees, parties, and activities. And often He's not just hidden in these things, but completely lost.

I hope that this year we will truly celebrate CHRISTmas as we learn to see Him in all the things that were meant to remind us of Him.

Of course we can and ought to find Him as we read the Christmas story, display nativity sets, sing Christmas hymns, and improve our personal worship. But even beyond that we can find Him as learn to see the real representations of everything in Christmas.

Then like Jane we can say,

"Jesus is another word for Christmas lights which shine through dark nights and winter storms."
"Jesus is another word for Christmas trees which are always alive even when all else is dead, which point heavenward and give hope of the new life of spring."
"Jesus is another word for Santa Claus, a saint who cared for the poor and showed an example of true Christianity."
"Jesus is another word for Christmas parties, a true celebration of His life, His victory over death and all that He offers us because He lived and died and rose again."
"Jesus is another word for gifts, given selflessly out of love binding the hearts of giver and receiver."

I am so grateful for this season to celebrate Jesus Christ and what my life can be because of Him. And I'm grateful that Jane reminded me to find Christ in all the -mas of Christmas.

I Don't Know. I'm Not That Goose.

It's geese migration time in Rochester (thank goodness!) and as we went for a family walk last Sunday, there were hundreds of geese flying over us. They were all flying southwest, except one. One goose was flying in the opposite direction of the migration.

I pointed this goose out to Jane and asked her, "Why do you think that goose is flying the other way?" I gave a few of my own guesses, "Maybe he forgot his lunch. Maybe he's going back for his family. Maybe he got lost." Then I asked Jane for her hypothesis, but she wouldn't play along. Instead she simply stated, "I don't know. I'm not that goose!"

With people as with geese, we can never truly understand why someone does something if we are not them. Even metaphorically walking a mile in another's shoes is not enough to truly understand a person. It may give some insight and empathy, and is certainly worthwhile, but without living an entire lifetime in someone else's mind and heart, we really cannot fully understand their motives and purposes.

But we don't need to.

It seemed silly and irrational that a goose was flying the "wrong" direction, but I'm sure he had a good reason for doing so. And knowing that is enough. I can just keep going in my direction and let him keep going in his, knowing we both have our reasons.

When I see others in life flying the "wrong" way, saying the "wrong" things, making the "wrong" choices, too often I think that by observing their actions I can also draw conclusions about their motives and their hearts. But I can't. And I don't need to.

We all have flawed motives and imperfect hearts, and there certainly are absolute rights and wrongs in the world. It is fine and even good to judge actions and stand firmly by eternal principles. For example, immorality is wrong. Abuse is wrong. Marriage between a man and woman is right. Prayer is right. And in those cases, I hope we will firmly show the right way and help others find it as well.

But in things that don't concern sin such as different ideas, different personalities, different parenting styles, different responses to challenges, different career choices, different priorities, or different hobbies, I hope we'll just let each other be different.

All things considered, I really believe that most people are doing the very best they can and even if they're doing things the "wrong" way, they have a good reason for doing so.

So, the next time I see someone flying the "wrong" way, I hope I can simply say, "I don't know why. I'm not that goose."

How Will They Know We Raised Our Hands?

As I put Jane to bed on Saturday after General Conference, we talked about how exciting it was to see three new Apostles called that day.

Jane always loves raising her hand for the sustaining vote, but usually we do that when a person is presented for a new calling in our ward at church. That day we watched General Conference from home and Jane was very concerned that no one saw us raise our hands. As I left her room she asked,

"Mom, how will they know that we raised our hands if we were just at our house?"

What an insightful question! I've been pondering it since.

How will the Prophet and Apostles know that I sustain them? 

I cannot imagine the overwhelming emotions Elder Rasband, Elder Stevenson, and Elder Renlund must be feeling--along with their wives and families--knowing that for the rest of their lives they are called to be special witnesses of Jesus Christ throughout the world, literally wearing out their lives in His service. What a marvelous, but heavy responsibility. 

So what can I do to sustain them? 

Sustain means: 

1. to strengthen or support 

2. cause to continue or be prolonged without interruption

3. bear the weight of an object without breaking or falling

4. uphold, affirm or confirm the validity of

• How can my actions and attitudes give them physical, mental and spiritual support?
• What can I do to help them continue their service, without interruptions or breaks for the rest of their lives?
• How can I bear a small part of the weight of their service without breaking or falling?
• What can I say, do, or be that will affirm the validity of their sacred call? 

Synonyms of "sustain" include: comfort, help, encourage, support, carry, cheer up, validate and uphold. 

How will they know that I raised my hand? How will they feel carried, validated, and encouraged by me?

My answer to Jane Saturday night was that we can pray for them, stand up for them, and be obedient to the things they tell us to do.

As I continued to ponder this question, I realized that the divine call of the Apostles is the testify of Jesus Christ and to bring people to Him. If I come unto Christ in word, deed, testimony and faithful service in the Church, they are successful.

It should be obvious to anyone who observes me in any situation that I sustain the Prophet and Apostles. The thoughts I post on social media, the clothes I wear, the activities I participate in, the things I say, the service I render and the person I am should all attest to the reality of my sustaining vote.

In ways that others will never see, it should be obvious to me that I truly sustain them. The sincerity of my prayers, the depth of my scripture study, the strength of my testimony, the scope of my humility and the sweetness of my relationship with the Savior should all be evidence that I meant it when I raised my hand.

In short, a true sustaining vote means living the gospel in every sense and every situation. For that will truly cheer, support and validate their work.

I hope the Prophet and Apostles will always know that I raised my hand because I'm committing my life to the cause for which they are wearing out theirs.

The View From the Lions' Den

My grandparents have a ranch in southern Utah where I've spent most of my childhood summers. During college, my brothers and I drove there almost monthly. As a result of our frequent trips, the trails we had hiked for so many years started to lose their excitement. We needed some new challenges, so we started climbing to the tops of the mountains surrounding the ranch's valley.

I will never forget the first time I reached a summit. We had climbed up the side and back of the mountain and could not see the valley below at all during our ascent. At one point, my brother and I scaled the side of the sandstone to reach the next ledge. He lost his footing, and I ducked right as a huge chunk of sandstone flew over my head and shattered below.

The path was unknown, dangerous at times, and exhausting. But eventually we made it. And as we made our way to the edge of the peak, the valley and canyons below came suddenly and breathtakingly into view.

I have never seen the Ranch from that angle before and it was more beautiful than I ever could have imagined. Only the climb could bring this new perspective.

As I continue to battle some of my lions, I have found great comfort as I come to understand God's power inside the lions' den (as I explained in an earlier post) and the view from the other side.

On a particularly hard day, I remembered this song I'd heard at a women's conference last year. As I listened again to the lyrics I realized that what feels like an uphill battle is exactly that, and it's bring me up-hill.

And when I conquer the summit I will see a beautiful and breathtaking view of my life and of others' lives as well. I will see from a new perspective, one that never would have been possible without the climb. I will realize God's plan for my life is more magnificent than I ever could have imagined.

I know, because nature's summits and life's summits always have that effect.

Every fear, every doubt, all the pain I went through
Was the price that I paid to see this view
Now that I'm here I would never trade
The grace that I feel and the faith that I find
Through the bittersweet tears and the sleepless nights
I used to pray He'd take it all away
But instead it became
A beautiful heartbreak

I never dreamed my heart would make it
And I thought about turning around
But Heaven has shown me miracles
I never would have seen from the ground

King Darius signed a decree which altereth not. A stone was rolled in front of the lions' den and sealed that the purpose might not be changed concerning Daniel. And yet, he was saved and he had an incredible experience in the process.

Sometimes the difficulties in our lives feel unalterable, like the fate is already sealed. But God has power over the unalterable, the unchangeable, the unfixable. Nothing is more final that death, and Christ proved He even has power over that.

Christ our Redeemer can redeem any broken heart, broken life, or broken situation. Nothing is unalterable in the face of His power. Eventually the summit will come into view and it will be worth every heart wrenching step of the climb.

While this hope is comforting, there is also hope inside the lions' den. Trials and blessings are not mutually exclusive, and as Elder Jeffrey R. Holland recently declared, "Also let us remember that through any illness or difficult challenge, there is still much in life to hopeful about and grateful for. We are infinitely more than our limitations and our afflictions!"

And so let us change our view from inside, and look forward to the view from on top.

Why Didn't the Angel Just Take Him Out?

I read Jane the story of Daniel in the lions' den tonight. When we got to the part where the angel appears and shuts the lions' mouths she asked, "Why didn't the angel just take him out?"

Don't we all ask God that question sometimes?
"Why aren't you taking me out of this situation?"
"Why aren't you taking away this illness?"
"Why aren't you fixing this problem or this relationship?"
"Why aren't you answering my questions or taking away my doubts?"
... I KNOW YOU CAN! Isn't that faith? And isn't faith supposed to produce results?

So Jane presents a valid question. If Daniel was a man of great faith, and faith produces miracles, why didn't the angel just take him out of the lions' den? He could have.

Because if he did, Daniel would have missed the whole experience of being IN the lions' den but not being eaten.

He would have known God's power to deliver him FROM difficulty, but he wouldn't have experienced God's power to deliver him IN difficulty. That's a whole different level of power and requires a whole different level of faith.

There was not just a single lion in that den. There was a whole group of lions ready to rip Daniel apart, but his faith was sufficient and God's power was sufficient that none of them got a single bite. 

At times in our lives we feel like we've been thrown to lions, lots of them, all ready to eat us. But instead of spending our energy wondering why God isn't taking us out, we can step back and realize, "I'm not being eaten alive in here... even though I should be. Somehow I'm going to come out of this alive." Then look around and see God's angels who are holding back your lions. 

We just finished a grueling year of training in a new place with a newborn and a 2 year old with six months of winter and no family, wrapping up the year with a serious medical scare. There have been moments, sometimes months, when we've both felt like we were in the lions' jaws. But here we are, alive. And stronger. 

As I reflect on this year, I just stand in awe realizing, "We should have been eaten alive. But we weren't. Many marriages end during this year. But ours is stronger. We're fine. We're great." I have grown in ways I never thought possible. My faith is deeper, my foundation is stronger and my hope is brighter because of this year. I've grown as a wife, a mother and a daughter of God in ways I never could have otherwise. 

At times I've begged to just be taken out this. But look at what I would have missed! I would have missed the angels, on this side of the veil and the other, who have literally held back the lions' jaws. I would have missed a deeper relationship with God and I would have missed the person I've become. 

So take another look at your lions, and be grateful for them. When you experience deliverance IN the lions' den, suddenly your faith and trust rise to a whole new level, one that never would have been possible had you just been delivered FROM it. 

Noticing vs. Comparing

When you have more than one kid, it's really easy to notice differences in their development and personality. For example,

• Jane's teeth came one at a time, but Steven cut 5 teeth in one day. 
• Steven can take about 10 steps with his walker at 10 months, but Jane was cruising down the halls at 7 months. 
• Jane can be shy when she meets new people, but Steven loves to smile at everyone. 
• Steven will eat anything, but Jane mostly likes candy. 
• Jane has green eyes and Steven has blue eyes. 

These are differences, but that's it. There is no judgment or comparison attached to them. I never think, "Steven is a better eater, therefore I love him more." or "Jane walked earlier, therefore she is smarter." 

Jane loves playing this game with words or pictures too. She will say, "Mom, see the same and see the difference? They both have blue shoes but he has glasses and he doesn't have glasses." or "See the difference? Park. Parking lot." 

That's the difference. PERIOD. There is no "therefore a park is better than a parking lot" or "therefore the person with glasses is better because glasses are cool." 

Why is it so hard for me to do the same when I notice difference between myself and others? 

I think it is because I have never made the distinction before between noticing and comparing. I guess I didn't realize I could just notice a difference without deciding which was better. And so I've tried to not notice... which is obviously impossible in some cases. 

"Oh, I didn't notice you had bright pink hair" or "I didn't notice that your house is 20,000 square feet and has life size lions on the entrance gate" or "I didn't notice your accent." 

Of course we notice! But, there is nothing wrong with noticing. Differences are fun; it's what makes life exciting! But the danger comes when a comparison is attached to it. 

Depending on my mood, these comparisons can easily swing either way. For example,
"She had all of her kids without an epidural, therefore she is so much tougher than I am and probably has a stronger bond with her babies!"
or

"She had all of her kids without an epidural, therefore she's crazy. She doesn't appreciate modern medicine and was probably way too tired after labor to even bond with her babies." 

Both of those conclusions are ridiculous and have nothing to do with reality, but when I see things as a comparison, I come out the winner or the loser. I either build my self esteem in an unhealthy way or I destroy my self esteem in an unhealthy way. 

I need to learn from Jane and learn from the way I see my kids. 

• She only feeds her kids organic food. PERIOD. 
• They send their kids to private school. PERIOD. 
• They homeschool their kids. PERIOD. 
• She doesn't use facebook. PERIOD. 
• She's tall and thin. PERIOD. 
• They have twelve children. PERIOD. 
• She sells cute crafts on the side, is a great cook and volunteers in the community. PERIOD. 

None of these things have anything to do with me, the way I look or the way I do things. I'm trying to do what is right for me and my family and I can just assume everyone else is doing the same without having to prove that my way is right or feel bad that it's not. 

I can notice and appreciate differences without having any "therefore..." statement attached to it. Don't you think that's the way God sees us? He loves us and our differences. PERIOD. 

Just Be a Mom

A few days ago I had just finished switching a load of laundry and I was listening to a voice mail from my dad and kind of ignoring Jane. She pulled on my leg and said, "Don't talk on the phone. Just be a mom!"

The phrase, "Just be a mom" has been ringing through my mind since then. In one simple phrase she captured my most important role in time or eternity. And yet, how often I allow other things distract me from truly being a mom.

Last weekend this powerful reminder came from a prophet of God as he spoke of the importance of marriage and family, "many things are good, many are important, but only a few are essential."

Being present with my children, teaching them the gospel of Jesus Christ, and loving and serving my husband are essential. Clean laundry is important, ironed laundry is good, but only a few things are essential.

It's okay, and even necessary, to have other interests, hobbies and activities outside of motherhood. But, those things should never detract from what is essential.

Last night Jane put me to the test.

I was making dinner in the kitchen and she was playing with a stuffed animal on the couch in the living room when this conversation began.

Jane: "So Mom, what are you up to?"
Me: "I'm making dinner."
Jane: "Oh. Then what will your second job be?"
Me: "I'll probably wash the dishes."
Jane: "Oh, okay. Then can your next job be to laugh with me on the couch?"

How could I pass up such an offer?!

The dishes are still in the sink, but they don't mind being neglected. I'll get to them and nothing was lost.

But had I chosen the dishes instead, as I too often do, Jane would mind being neglected and the moment would gone forever.

Only a few things are essential.

Pray Always

I have often wondered at the Lord's command to "Pray Always." I don't think He literally wants us to spend every second of every day in prayer. That would be impossible, really. So what does He mean?

I taught a lesson on prayer in church a few weeks ago and in the midst of preparing, I talked to a few old friends who wanted to know about my kids. In describing Steven I caught myself saying, "He is always eating."

Well, he's not actually eating every second of every day. But it is still correct grammatically to say he is always eating. It is something that characterizes him. It is something he enjoys, that he does every chance he gets. He is excited and anxious to eat. He never passes up an opportunity to eat. And he will eat anything at any time.

He eats all-ways. Any time. Any place. Any food. With anyone.

Here's a little sample of his excitement. Every single bite looks like this:



There are many insightful ways to interpret this commandment, but I think this is a powerful idea of what the Lord may have meant when He asked us to "Pray Always." How would my life be different if I were always praying?

I hope prayer will be something that comes to characterize me. And I hope I can have the same kind of excitement to commune with my Father in Heaven that Steven has to eat, for truly kneeling at His feet is a spiritual feast.

Flirting with Sin

Jane is a master negotiator and justifier, with phrases like, "Can I please have just one?" "Do you want one and I can have one too?" "I'm not eating it, Mom. I'm just holding it." "I'm not touching them; I'm just looking at them." "I'm not climbing on the counter, just one knee is one it." "I'll just be really careful."

A few weeks ago she really outdid herself. I told her she'd had enough raisins and she needed to put them away. This is the conversation that ensued:

Jane: "Can I have just one more?"
Me: "No, Jane. You've had enough."
Jane: "Can I just have one bite?"
Me: "No, Jane. You've had enough."
Jane: "Can I just chew on it?"

As funny as this is, it's a dangerous mortal mentality. As humans, we're really good at getting as close to the edge as possible (or even completely over the edge except for one little toe) and convincing ourselves that we're still in safe territory. We're not actually eating the raisins, we're just chewing on them!

I love this quote from George Albert Smith, a latter-day Apostle of Jesus Christ:

"There is a division line well defined that separates the Lord’s territory from Lucifer’s. If we live on the Lord’s side of the line Lucifer cannot come there to influence us, but if we cross the line into his territory we are in his power. By keeping the commandments of the Lord we are safe on His side of the line, but if we disobey His teachings we voluntarily cross into the zone of temptation and invite the destruction that is ever present there. Knowing this, how anxious we should always be to live on the Lord’s side of the line." 

How anxious we should always be to live on the Lord's side of the line! Complete obedience is a powerful thing. 

On that note, here is a wonderful video from Jeffrey R. Holland who can say things much better than I can. 

Just Because You Don't Understand Doesn't Mean I Don't Understand

In Isaiah, the Lord tells us, "For my thoughts are not your thoughts...for as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are...my thoughts than your thoughts."

This concept is easy to understand when we are the ones thinking at a higher level, but it is almost impossible for us to fathom when we are the ones whose thoughts are lower.

Perhaps these two examples can help us get a better idea of God's level of thinking, and thus trust Him more fully, as we consider ourselves as His children and as His students.

As a Child

Jane put on her tutu and spun for at least 20 minutes yesterday. She kept saying, "Mom, I'm pretending to be a ballerina. I'm spinning around, spinning around, spinning around..." Then she fell and said, "Whoa. Now that house is spinning around!" 

I tried to explain to her why it looks like the house is spinning, but she insisted, "No, Mom. The house is spinning!" Obviously the house was not actually spinning, but in her perspective, it was. 

She is also living in the "Why?" phase of life, or more often, "But why?" 

I can explain in simple terms why she can't eat chocolate for dinner, why she can't hit Steven, and why she can't use a sharp knife. It is harder for me to articulate why everyone used to be a baby or why I let the nurse hurt her when she gets a shot. 

I stumble as I try explain these things on a toddler level. The answer is obvious to me, but it is just beyond her comprehension and the thought that always comes to mind is, "Just because you don't understand doesn't mean I don't understand!" 

As a Student

I used to teach high school math. Whenever I explained a difficult concept, a student would exclaim, "Mrs. Teixeira, this doesn't make sense!" 

I would remind them, "Actually, it does make sense. It just doesn't make sense to you. Yet." 

Those two clarifications are important. All truth cannot be judged on our capacity to understand it. But eventually, in this life or in the eternities, we will understand. 

Perhaps we can keep this in mind when there are trials in our lives that seem unfair, gospel principles we don't understand, situations that seem impossible to remedy and unanswered questions trying our faith. 

Often we ask God, "Why is this happening to me?" or tell Him, "This is too hard. I can't do this." or lose our faith and don't talk to Him at all. Perhaps instead we can remember that His thoughts are higher than ours and we can say, "This doesn't make sense to me. Yet. But just because I don't understand doesn't mean you don't understand and I'm just going to have to trust you on this one."

And then do it. Truly trust Him. He really does understand.