Something happened at church last Sunday that has given me food for thought. I guess you could say it was a very effective object lesson, one that has re-impressed itself on me several times this week.
Sunday morning began normally enough. Daniel attended his early meeting while I got the kids ready for church. Besides corralling kids in the right direction and carrying an over-stuffed bag full of Primary music helps, I also had the baby in his carseat to juggle. Most Sundays I take all my stuff into the chapel and stick it under the pew. This inevitably leads to kids stepping over and on it, or asking for things to entertain them. I didn't want to deal with the distraction and the bulk of a car seat when leaving the meeting, so I did what seemed a sensible thing and left it all in the Primary room (minus the baby). I told Daniel where to find the bag when he needed a new diaper for Gideon, and everything was ready when Primary started. Accordingly, Sacrament meeting was slightly less chaotic than the previous week had been.
The first block of Primary went as smoothly as expected. I passed the baby to whomever was handy when I needed to lead music, and grabbed the visuals that I needed without really looking into my bag. Midway through Primary, I looked in my bag and realized that something was wrong. My wallet was sitting on a stack of papers, instead of inside the little bag that I use to carry my keys and change. I think I knew without looking that something would be missing, and sure enough, all my cash had been stolen.
My first thought was... had I known this would happen, I would have spent it first. My second thought was... I'm glad I unexpectedly bought lunch for my husband and kids just a couple days ago and paid cash for pizza when my sisters were visiting because we had the enjoyment of a meal, and there was less money in the wallet than there would have been.
I guess what has gone through my mind is the idea that saving is not always the best use of the resources we have been given. I was taught to save as a child, and have always been more comfortable having money in reserve than spending it impulsively. The reserves I accumulated then were used for travel study programs and a year of college. However, the scriptures are clear that our gifts are to be used for the benefit of others, and in the service of God. Talents wither if they are not used, money loses its value (or becomes "slippery") if hidden, testimonies diminish if not shared. Even seeds are of little value if not planted. However, when any of these are used in faith to bless others and serve the Lord, they are multiplied and the giver is richer for giving.
At the point I discovered my money was gone, I wished I had acted sooner. At that point, there was only one choice I had and that was whether to focus on what was taken from me, or to return the use of the money where it ought to have been all along. I mentally gave every dollar to God and prayed that He would, in some manner, make better use of those dollars that I had. I hoped that in some small way my loss might provide good somewhere, whether it be in the eventual repentance of the thief, or just making its way to a person who needed it much more than I did.
I thank God for my blessings. He has given me my daily bread, my home, health and family. I don't know what challenges and blessings are around the corner, but I have confidence that the Lord will continue to bless and provide for us as much as we allow him to. We have been commanded to give thanks in all things (D&C 98:1) so I thank God for stolen dollars and what they have taught me.
Sunday, November 6, 2011
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Faith in Action
This is the post I intended to write, but didn't know how to include the details of my birthday boys, which is found under "Happy Birth-day!"
-- "I could never do what you do." --
This is a phrase I have heard repeatedly over the past 10 years, regarding either homeschooling, or having our babies at home. My intention here is not to comment on the very personal choices made within families, but to describe some of the lessons I have learned as my husband and I have tried to exercise faith in following the promptings of the Holy Spirit as it has directed us in specific matters.
As members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we hear a lot about faith. Faith is the first principle of the gospel, preceding repentance and baptism, the youth work on their "Faith in God" award program. It is the first value listed for young women, and Joseph Smith jr. wrote an entire lecture series on the topic. We compare faith to a seed that must be planted, and are cautioned not to be of "little faith".
In my previous post, I referred to Daniel and Michael as two of the most important people in my life (along with my other children). They represent for me lessons in the exercise of faith, which has brought me closer to God, that I could never have understood or applied through more passive teaching methods. I guess its kind of like the mortal experience we needed to have in order to become like our Heavenly Father.
Just over 15 years ago, Daniel and I were married "for time and all eternity". I don't know that I was thinking of faith at the time, other than to have faith that God would let me know if somehow this was NOT the right person to join my life with. I pictured the friendship and love we had begun continuing to develop uninterrupted as we shared the experiences of life together. Since then, I have come to appreciate that my marriage is a gift, not always in the ways I anticipated, but in the ways most needed to develop my faith in God and his plan. At times I have questioned my own judgment and wisdom when faced with disappointment and heartache. Without fail, my heart-felt prayers would be answered with the assurance that God knows me and that my trials were in accordance with His will.
Having said this, I want to emphasize that Daniel is my dearest friend. He has been a true companion, without whom I would be missing the blessings I prize most in my life. He has helped me to understand the atonement in ways I never thought possible, and he has supported me 100% in trying to live gospel principles as I see them, contrary to many traditions of our society. Our decision to have our children at home is one example which I would like to share as an example of faith in action.
The decision to get married and be willing to start a family was based on faith in the Plan of Salvation, that we are Heavenly Father's children. We all existed prior to the creation of the earth, and needed the experience of mortality to learn the lessons that would prepare us for eternity. Part of my responsibility in this plan was to be willing to be the means of allowing other spirit children the same opportunity for life that my parents had given me. God's children would all be born, according to His plan, whether in my family or elsewhere. Daniel and I decided to leave the placement and timing of any children He chose to send to us in His hands, knowing that large or small, God would ultimately provide the means to allow us to care for any children we had the faith to accept.
Our first child was born in a hospital. We followed all the protocols for pre-natal care and check-ups dictated by insurance and the doctor's office. At the end of 9 months, we knew it was time to go to the hospital after my water broke and contractions started. Looking back, I feel blessed with the circumstances we had there. The birth room was comfortable and appealing, the nurses were kind and supportive, my doctor happened to be unavailable (of course), but we had plenty of people to tell us what to do and when to do it. Knowing nothing ourselves, this was probably best. However, something about the experience left me feeling angry, violated, and extremely dissatisfied, despite a healthy beautiful baby. Both Daniel and I determined that we needed to look for alternatives for the future, and take more responsibility for understanding our choices and what we could do.
The next time around, we hired a midwife and planned a home birth. We still knew little, but I studied available resources from the library and felt comfortable with our decision. When contractions started late one night, neither of us thought birth was imminent, but I recognized the intensity and went to relax in the tub while Daniel called the midwife to come, just in case. As the situation became more intense, we just followed what seemed right while waiting for the "expert" to arrive and take over with her training. The baby arrived much sooner than she did, so we wrapped both of us up with a blanket and I lay down to wait for her to arrive. When she did, she checked me and the baby. We were both fine. In that situation, Daniel and I felt like we were guided by the Spirit, or unseen angels to know what to do. Instead of resentment and depression, I was filled with gratitude that we were home, prepared to do what was needed until help arrived, rather than rushing to the hospital in the middle of the night and giving birth before we could get there.
By the time our third child was expected, we were in a new city with a new midwife. Because of our previous experiences, we explained that she needed to come as quickly as possible when we called, and asked for guidance in knowing what circumstances would indicate going to the hospital before she might arrive. She also recommended a nutritional green supplement to support my body. We called it "miracle grow" when this child was over a pound heavier at birth than his older brothers had been. In this case also, the midwife was delayed and Daniel was the proud father who first welcomed our little boy to the world. Most interesting to me in this case was how the midwife supplemented my faith with her own. She mentioned that she had missed only 1% of the hundreds of births she had attended. In every case, she felt that the experience was given to the couple for some reason. She had prayed for our well-being as she drove (through a blinding storm) and felt comforted that all would be well. It was, and our choice to exercise faith in the promptings of the Spirit was confirmed.
By the time our fourth child was expected, I thought we pretty much knew what to expect. We continued to learn from our pre-natal visits, asking for as much information as necessary to help in the case that we were again delivering a baby without assistance. I continued nutrition supplements, and started implementing healthier eating patterns for my family based on what I was learning. Several weeks before the due date, I began to have some irritating symptoms. I remembered having them with the first two pregnancies and being dismissed by the doctor as just normal irritations that would go away after the birth of the baby. No longer content to walk blindly, I started researching on the computer and found that my liver was being stressed by the dual load of caring for mother and baby. Normally treated with pharmaceuticals to alleviate symptoms (but not the cause), I found a woman who reported reversing the condition naturally by focusing on her diet and intake of distilled water. I felt like I had my answer. Within 24 hours of acting on what I had learned, my symptoms reversed and did not return. My knowledge continued to grow and I felt the Lord was blessing us for exercising faith in Him and acting on the resources placed before us. (By the way, the midwife arrived in time to catch the baby.)
Emery was our 5th little baby. We were expecting her, but in the years between her birth and that of her older sister, I studied to be a Master Herbalist. In addition to my increased knowledge of diet and herbal supplements, I was given a list of protocols from another master herbalist midwife, which she required her clients to follow if they wanted a home birth. As they were consistent with other things I had learned, including the Word of Wisdom, I added her recommendations to the changes I had already made. I also purchased and read "Holistic Midwifery" which is a textbook for midwives which covers prenatal care. I will also mention that in this one case, the midwife was ready and waiting. We called her in the morning to let her know labor had started, but on my end, it was just poor timing for a baby. We had guests, Daniel really needed to go to work, and my mom hadn't yet arrived to take care of the siblings. Contractions slowed, I sent Daniel to work, and the midwife said she would just hang out within reach so we could call her when needed. That night, after the guests had gone, kids were sleeping, and my mom was there, the midwife came back. I finally went to lie down while the other adults visited in the front room. After that, things proceeded as normal. I let Daniel know when the contractions were strong enough that I wanted to relax in the tub. He waited on me and with me. The midwife did one check to see how I was progressing, and she was there to catch the baby soon afterward.
I really didn't know if we would have any more children after that. We moved to Arizona which has different licensing laws for midwives, making the possibility of an assisted home birth in my area extremely unlikely. When we realized the Lord wasn't done adding to our family, it took real faith to accept that we might be unassisted, and to realize that if we continued to follow the promptings we had in Utah that home was a better setting for me than a hospital, that the Lord had prepared us with the experiences to safely exercise that option. We did consider a woman who had helped many other women with home births in our area, but I didn't feel comfortable with what I had heard, and felt that diligently preparing and trusting the Lord was the option that felt best for us. In addition to our previous resources, we acquired volume 2 of "Holistic Midwifery", which provides detailed information on labor and delivery. In reading this tome I was humbled and awed by the miracle of the birth process as designed by our Creator. I knew that if I did everything I could to prepare for a healthy and safe birth, the baby would do his part and the Lord would provide any other assistance we might need. In this case our assistance came from my mother, who took our children to her house for the day, and a good friend who came to help as needed. Her role ultimately involved making herbal teas and congratulating us on a beautiful baby boy when she was introduced to him.
Since then, we have added two additional boys, following the same pattern of putting faith in action. We understand that children are a gift from God. He is vitally concerned with their well-being, as he is with my own. He provides promptings that may lead us to make choices contrary to the traditions and wisdom of those around us. As we trust His wisdom and guidance, we are taught line by line, and precept by precept, here a little and there a little. We are given opportunities to act on the information we receive and turn our faith in small things into the capacity to do great (or humbling) things. We grow in the knowledge that God is mindful of us, and that we can rely on Him to lead us safely through all things he sees fit to try us with.
My purpose in writing these experiences is to acknowledge that God lives. He does guide us in the choices we make, and that he sometimes leads us to do "hard things" because he knows the experience will help us grow. I know my circumstances are not the same as those faced by others who will read this. My hope is that as each of us puts our faith into action, in whatever way we are guided, we will be able to teach one another by our experiences and example how to bring the power of God more actively into our lives.
-- "I could never do what you do." --
This is a phrase I have heard repeatedly over the past 10 years, regarding either homeschooling, or having our babies at home. My intention here is not to comment on the very personal choices made within families, but to describe some of the lessons I have learned as my husband and I have tried to exercise faith in following the promptings of the Holy Spirit as it has directed us in specific matters.
As members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we hear a lot about faith. Faith is the first principle of the gospel, preceding repentance and baptism, the youth work on their "Faith in God" award program. It is the first value listed for young women, and Joseph Smith jr. wrote an entire lecture series on the topic. We compare faith to a seed that must be planted, and are cautioned not to be of "little faith".
In my previous post, I referred to Daniel and Michael as two of the most important people in my life (along with my other children). They represent for me lessons in the exercise of faith, which has brought me closer to God, that I could never have understood or applied through more passive teaching methods. I guess its kind of like the mortal experience we needed to have in order to become like our Heavenly Father.
Just over 15 years ago, Daniel and I were married "for time and all eternity". I don't know that I was thinking of faith at the time, other than to have faith that God would let me know if somehow this was NOT the right person to join my life with. I pictured the friendship and love we had begun continuing to develop uninterrupted as we shared the experiences of life together. Since then, I have come to appreciate that my marriage is a gift, not always in the ways I anticipated, but in the ways most needed to develop my faith in God and his plan. At times I have questioned my own judgment and wisdom when faced with disappointment and heartache. Without fail, my heart-felt prayers would be answered with the assurance that God knows me and that my trials were in accordance with His will.
Having said this, I want to emphasize that Daniel is my dearest friend. He has been a true companion, without whom I would be missing the blessings I prize most in my life. He has helped me to understand the atonement in ways I never thought possible, and he has supported me 100% in trying to live gospel principles as I see them, contrary to many traditions of our society. Our decision to have our children at home is one example which I would like to share as an example of faith in action.
The decision to get married and be willing to start a family was based on faith in the Plan of Salvation, that we are Heavenly Father's children. We all existed prior to the creation of the earth, and needed the experience of mortality to learn the lessons that would prepare us for eternity. Part of my responsibility in this plan was to be willing to be the means of allowing other spirit children the same opportunity for life that my parents had given me. God's children would all be born, according to His plan, whether in my family or elsewhere. Daniel and I decided to leave the placement and timing of any children He chose to send to us in His hands, knowing that large or small, God would ultimately provide the means to allow us to care for any children we had the faith to accept.
Our first child was born in a hospital. We followed all the protocols for pre-natal care and check-ups dictated by insurance and the doctor's office. At the end of 9 months, we knew it was time to go to the hospital after my water broke and contractions started. Looking back, I feel blessed with the circumstances we had there. The birth room was comfortable and appealing, the nurses were kind and supportive, my doctor happened to be unavailable (of course), but we had plenty of people to tell us what to do and when to do it. Knowing nothing ourselves, this was probably best. However, something about the experience left me feeling angry, violated, and extremely dissatisfied, despite a healthy beautiful baby. Both Daniel and I determined that we needed to look for alternatives for the future, and take more responsibility for understanding our choices and what we could do.
The next time around, we hired a midwife and planned a home birth. We still knew little, but I studied available resources from the library and felt comfortable with our decision. When contractions started late one night, neither of us thought birth was imminent, but I recognized the intensity and went to relax in the tub while Daniel called the midwife to come, just in case. As the situation became more intense, we just followed what seemed right while waiting for the "expert" to arrive and take over with her training. The baby arrived much sooner than she did, so we wrapped both of us up with a blanket and I lay down to wait for her to arrive. When she did, she checked me and the baby. We were both fine. In that situation, Daniel and I felt like we were guided by the Spirit, or unseen angels to know what to do. Instead of resentment and depression, I was filled with gratitude that we were home, prepared to do what was needed until help arrived, rather than rushing to the hospital in the middle of the night and giving birth before we could get there.
By the time our third child was expected, we were in a new city with a new midwife. Because of our previous experiences, we explained that she needed to come as quickly as possible when we called, and asked for guidance in knowing what circumstances would indicate going to the hospital before she might arrive. She also recommended a nutritional green supplement to support my body. We called it "miracle grow" when this child was over a pound heavier at birth than his older brothers had been. In this case also, the midwife was delayed and Daniel was the proud father who first welcomed our little boy to the world. Most interesting to me in this case was how the midwife supplemented my faith with her own. She mentioned that she had missed only 1% of the hundreds of births she had attended. In every case, she felt that the experience was given to the couple for some reason. She had prayed for our well-being as she drove (through a blinding storm) and felt comforted that all would be well. It was, and our choice to exercise faith in the promptings of the Spirit was confirmed.
By the time our fourth child was expected, I thought we pretty much knew what to expect. We continued to learn from our pre-natal visits, asking for as much information as necessary to help in the case that we were again delivering a baby without assistance. I continued nutrition supplements, and started implementing healthier eating patterns for my family based on what I was learning. Several weeks before the due date, I began to have some irritating symptoms. I remembered having them with the first two pregnancies and being dismissed by the doctor as just normal irritations that would go away after the birth of the baby. No longer content to walk blindly, I started researching on the computer and found that my liver was being stressed by the dual load of caring for mother and baby. Normally treated with pharmaceuticals to alleviate symptoms (but not the cause), I found a woman who reported reversing the condition naturally by focusing on her diet and intake of distilled water. I felt like I had my answer. Within 24 hours of acting on what I had learned, my symptoms reversed and did not return. My knowledge continued to grow and I felt the Lord was blessing us for exercising faith in Him and acting on the resources placed before us. (By the way, the midwife arrived in time to catch the baby.)
Emery was our 5th little baby. We were expecting her, but in the years between her birth and that of her older sister, I studied to be a Master Herbalist. In addition to my increased knowledge of diet and herbal supplements, I was given a list of protocols from another master herbalist midwife, which she required her clients to follow if they wanted a home birth. As they were consistent with other things I had learned, including the Word of Wisdom, I added her recommendations to the changes I had already made. I also purchased and read "Holistic Midwifery" which is a textbook for midwives which covers prenatal care. I will also mention that in this one case, the midwife was ready and waiting. We called her in the morning to let her know labor had started, but on my end, it was just poor timing for a baby. We had guests, Daniel really needed to go to work, and my mom hadn't yet arrived to take care of the siblings. Contractions slowed, I sent Daniel to work, and the midwife said she would just hang out within reach so we could call her when needed. That night, after the guests had gone, kids were sleeping, and my mom was there, the midwife came back. I finally went to lie down while the other adults visited in the front room. After that, things proceeded as normal. I let Daniel know when the contractions were strong enough that I wanted to relax in the tub. He waited on me and with me. The midwife did one check to see how I was progressing, and she was there to catch the baby soon afterward.
I really didn't know if we would have any more children after that. We moved to Arizona which has different licensing laws for midwives, making the possibility of an assisted home birth in my area extremely unlikely. When we realized the Lord wasn't done adding to our family, it took real faith to accept that we might be unassisted, and to realize that if we continued to follow the promptings we had in Utah that home was a better setting for me than a hospital, that the Lord had prepared us with the experiences to safely exercise that option. We did consider a woman who had helped many other women with home births in our area, but I didn't feel comfortable with what I had heard, and felt that diligently preparing and trusting the Lord was the option that felt best for us. In addition to our previous resources, we acquired volume 2 of "Holistic Midwifery", which provides detailed information on labor and delivery. In reading this tome I was humbled and awed by the miracle of the birth process as designed by our Creator. I knew that if I did everything I could to prepare for a healthy and safe birth, the baby would do his part and the Lord would provide any other assistance we might need. In this case our assistance came from my mother, who took our children to her house for the day, and a good friend who came to help as needed. Her role ultimately involved making herbal teas and congratulating us on a beautiful baby boy when she was introduced to him.
Since then, we have added two additional boys, following the same pattern of putting faith in action. We understand that children are a gift from God. He is vitally concerned with their well-being, as he is with my own. He provides promptings that may lead us to make choices contrary to the traditions and wisdom of those around us. As we trust His wisdom and guidance, we are taught line by line, and precept by precept, here a little and there a little. We are given opportunities to act on the information we receive and turn our faith in small things into the capacity to do great (or humbling) things. We grow in the knowledge that God is mindful of us, and that we can rely on Him to lead us safely through all things he sees fit to try us with.
My purpose in writing these experiences is to acknowledge that God lives. He does guide us in the choices we make, and that he sometimes leads us to do "hard things" because he knows the experience will help us grow. I know my circumstances are not the same as those faced by others who will read this. My hope is that as each of us puts our faith into action, in whatever way we are guided, we will be able to teach one another by our experiences and example how to bring the power of God more actively into our lives.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
Happy Birth-day!
October 1, 2011 -
Happy birthday to two of the most important people in my life: my husband, Daniel Robert, and our newest little boy, Michael Alexander.
I have to smile a bit to think of how Daniel has spent his special day. (Now that I think of it, I am reminded of my Mother's Day comforting and cuddling a two-year old with infected teeth.) I woke Daniel around 3am to tell him that his birthday might be a little different than planned. He had only been sleeping a couple hours - who needs to go to be early when the next day is yours to spend as you wish, right? I hated to wake him, but he needed fair warning that I was having contractions that woke me up and he might be needed before the night was over. Within an hour, he was up with me getting supplies in place and warming the tub, just in case our baby decided to show up for the birthday events.
From that time on, Daniel has cleaned the bathroom, made me the juice and teas I needed for labor, assisted as my birth attendant, cleaned up, cared for kids, done laundry, nursed a headache, fixed meals, contacted friends and family about the new baby, and cancelled his plans for the ice cream social scheduled for after Priesthood session of conference tonight, and sneaked in a nap this afternoon while the little boys were also napping.
My other birthday boy, Michael Alexander, joined the party at 4:41am. Labor is never a fun experience, but the contractions were manageable, relatively short, and spaced enough that I could rest between. Pushing was also efficient and fast. Daniel announced we had a beautiful boy, and I just sat on the floor and held him. He had no problems breathing, we left the cord attached until it stopped pulsing so he could have as much of the placental blood as his body wanted, and we discussed names.
Since then, he has been eating and resting just fine. The kids all love their baby brother, and we are excited to get better acquainted as the year progresses. (Mom also feels fine - but this post isn't about me!)
Happy birthday to two of the most important people in my life: my husband, Daniel Robert, and our newest little boy, Michael Alexander.
I have to smile a bit to think of how Daniel has spent his special day. (Now that I think of it, I am reminded of my Mother's Day comforting and cuddling a two-year old with infected teeth.) I woke Daniel around 3am to tell him that his birthday might be a little different than planned. He had only been sleeping a couple hours - who needs to go to be early when the next day is yours to spend as you wish, right? I hated to wake him, but he needed fair warning that I was having contractions that woke me up and he might be needed before the night was over. Within an hour, he was up with me getting supplies in place and warming the tub, just in case our baby decided to show up for the birthday events.
From that time on, Daniel has cleaned the bathroom, made me the juice and teas I needed for labor, assisted as my birth attendant, cleaned up, cared for kids, done laundry, nursed a headache, fixed meals, contacted friends and family about the new baby, and cancelled his plans for the ice cream social scheduled for after Priesthood session of conference tonight, and sneaked in a nap this afternoon while the little boys were also napping.
My other birthday boy, Michael Alexander, joined the party at 4:41am. Labor is never a fun experience, but the contractions were manageable, relatively short, and spaced enough that I could rest between. Pushing was also efficient and fast. Daniel announced we had a beautiful boy, and I just sat on the floor and held him. He had no problems breathing, we left the cord attached until it stopped pulsing so he could have as much of the placental blood as his body wanted, and we discussed names.
Since then, he has been eating and resting just fine. The kids all love their baby brother, and we are excited to get better acquainted as the year progresses. (Mom also feels fine - but this post isn't about me!)
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Back-to-School
Where do I even start on the subject of "school"? Is it a place? Is it an action? If we are going "back" to school, I assume school is something we either leave or stop for a period of time. I've heard myself say more than once that everything we do is school, so I'm not sure my heading is very descriptive of anything other than my intention of writing about education tonight.
I guess I should just frame my thoughts in the context of my job as a mother. I confess I'm rather a failure at things like teaching my kids to tie their shoes or sleep in their own beds. When our older children were small, I quickly realized that running my household around someone else's schedule for things like bi-monthly doctor visits or regular playdates was more than I was prepared to stress over. In fact, Jared wore coordinating, but not matching, socks for the first year of his life (until we just started buying white ones) because it was just faster to grab two that looked good than search for the match that was hiding in the laundry somewhere. I tried to distinguish between those things that were essential, and those things I felt others were expecting of me just because that's how they are normally done.
When Jared showed an affinity for early mornings, we bought him a clock so he could know when it was okay to wake us. When he showed an interest in reading, I looked at programs to teach him to read. This was two years sooner than he would have qualified for any kindergarten program, but I was a mother and my job was to meet his needs, not teach him to wait until someone else decided he fit into their program. It provided me with a project, and in the process I learned some things that have made a huge difference in my life. Our introduction to Home Schooling came in the book "Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons". I won't say that every lesson went according to the script, but in the process of following the instructions of someone who knew more about teaching reading than I did, I found a real sense of accomplishment in spending 20-30 minutes each day sitting next to my son. At times it felt like we were going nowhere. Then I would flip the pages of the book back to where we had been just a week or two earlier and the progress seemed monumental. I realized that consistency was more important than feeling productive every time we sat down. He finished the 100 lessons before his 4th birthday, and after that, he had a key to knowledge that could never be taken away, and I felt like I had given him a gift that was priceless. Once he could read well enough on his own, I attempted piano lessons, then math. We never started a new topic until he was comfortable enough with the last one that he wouldn't be overwhelmed.
When Eric was 3, he wanted to start reading like Jared. So, I sat him down, opened the same book, and found that my second son had a totally different learning style. Where Jared enjoyed learning new letters and seemed to retain everything, Eric needed more review. Eric however, loved the writing exercises, which Jared avoided as much as possible. Eric saw "b", "d", and "p" as the same letter (rotated or flipped) which Jared never seemed to confuse. When the book finished, we continued to read together until something seemed to click and he was comfortable reading on his own. As a mother, I was so grateful to see what different approaches they took to learning, so that I could learn to understand each of them better and not get caught up in direct comparisons. I wondered if Eric saw the world as an artist, I still wonder that. He seems to learn by observation and drawing his own conclusions more than taking information that is fed to him. Will he discover new truths by observing the world around him or combining knowledge in ways others haven't yet thought of? I don't know, but I enjoy the process of watching him learn, always wondering where his path will lead.
For various and differing reasons, public school didn't feel like the right option when my boys were old enough to be enrolled. At the same time, we were introduced to a wonderful family who had been home schooling for several years. We followed our system and they followed theirs, but that friendship was a gift to me at a time when I felt self-conscious making different choices from the other parents I knew. Since then, we have never moved to a new area without soon finding ourselves in the company of other home school families. My kids don't feel left out from the school crowd because there are other kids at church who don't go to the local school either.
So why after all these years would my boys attend public school? Mostly for the same reason they weren't before -- it feels like the right thing to do. For the last 10 years I have been using my own judgment and the input of my kids to determine what they would learn and where and how we would learn it. Textbooks, videos, online classes, classic books. Their interests right now are singing and cooking. Eric wants to be a chef, and the class at school gives him opportunity to cook several times a week without being interrupted by siblings and a distracted mom. Jared adores singing, and the choir program at the high school is top-notch. Dad drives to school everyday for work, and they still have plenty of time between classes to work on the subjects assigned by me, without getting caught up in the non-academic distractions that are sometimes detrimental at that time of life. I want them to be productive, but still have time to enjoy being part of our family when they aren't at school. They can enjoy learning without the extra distraction of grades and keeping pace with the rest of a class, taking as much or as little time as necessary to really learn what they are studying.
As for the rest of the family, the part-time absence of the older boys means that Samuel and Susannah have the opportunity to be the oldest ones at home during the day. Jared and Eric have been the trailblazers as I experiment with education at home. Now they are prepared to learn from other mentors and my focus is shifting to those who have played the "middle child" role, finding their own place between the big kids and the toddlers who want my constant attention. They will find themselves with more privileges, but also more attention and the expectation that they will complete their chores and schoolwork without excuses. We discuss together what they will be learning each year and set schedules so there is no confusion about what is expected. If they show me they have completed their assignments and chores, their time is their own. However, if they get sidetracked, there is no telling what I might find for them to do. One of my goals (as a mother) is for them to learn to use their time effectively without being watched constantly.
My short-term goal with the younger children this year is to get to a point within the next 2 months that they know what they are doing each day and can help each other enough so that the introduction of a new baby won't upset the balance of the household. They already help each other with chores and meals. I hope their learning is at a point that they don't need mom looking over their shoulder to stay on task. Jesse has been working all summer on his "chores" and finally goes to someone else if I am not immediately available. I hope to spend enough time with Emery and Susannah that they know they have a good relationship with me and feel confident in their abilities to follow through on their chores without being reminded so their can have the same privileges of free time that their older brothers take advantage of.
As for me, the decision to homeschool has been one of the best things I have done. I know my children and have good relationships with all of them. I am excited to watch their talents unfold, and I have been challenged to study and learn to continue providing learning opportunities for them. I have a lot of excitement and faith about the future. I have seen the hand of God in the lives of my children, and I know that they are being prepared in some way for a future I can't quite understand from the viewpoint of today. I am a better person for the time we spend together, and I can't think of any group of people who would be more patient and forgiving as I try to be the kind of person I would ideally like to be.
I guess I should just frame my thoughts in the context of my job as a mother. I confess I'm rather a failure at things like teaching my kids to tie their shoes or sleep in their own beds. When our older children were small, I quickly realized that running my household around someone else's schedule for things like bi-monthly doctor visits or regular playdates was more than I was prepared to stress over. In fact, Jared wore coordinating, but not matching, socks for the first year of his life (until we just started buying white ones) because it was just faster to grab two that looked good than search for the match that was hiding in the laundry somewhere. I tried to distinguish between those things that were essential, and those things I felt others were expecting of me just because that's how they are normally done.
When Jared showed an affinity for early mornings, we bought him a clock so he could know when it was okay to wake us. When he showed an interest in reading, I looked at programs to teach him to read. This was two years sooner than he would have qualified for any kindergarten program, but I was a mother and my job was to meet his needs, not teach him to wait until someone else decided he fit into their program. It provided me with a project, and in the process I learned some things that have made a huge difference in my life. Our introduction to Home Schooling came in the book "Teach Your Child to Read in 100 Easy Lessons". I won't say that every lesson went according to the script, but in the process of following the instructions of someone who knew more about teaching reading than I did, I found a real sense of accomplishment in spending 20-30 minutes each day sitting next to my son. At times it felt like we were going nowhere. Then I would flip the pages of the book back to where we had been just a week or two earlier and the progress seemed monumental. I realized that consistency was more important than feeling productive every time we sat down. He finished the 100 lessons before his 4th birthday, and after that, he had a key to knowledge that could never be taken away, and I felt like I had given him a gift that was priceless. Once he could read well enough on his own, I attempted piano lessons, then math. We never started a new topic until he was comfortable enough with the last one that he wouldn't be overwhelmed.
When Eric was 3, he wanted to start reading like Jared. So, I sat him down, opened the same book, and found that my second son had a totally different learning style. Where Jared enjoyed learning new letters and seemed to retain everything, Eric needed more review. Eric however, loved the writing exercises, which Jared avoided as much as possible. Eric saw "b", "d", and "p" as the same letter (rotated or flipped) which Jared never seemed to confuse. When the book finished, we continued to read together until something seemed to click and he was comfortable reading on his own. As a mother, I was so grateful to see what different approaches they took to learning, so that I could learn to understand each of them better and not get caught up in direct comparisons. I wondered if Eric saw the world as an artist, I still wonder that. He seems to learn by observation and drawing his own conclusions more than taking information that is fed to him. Will he discover new truths by observing the world around him or combining knowledge in ways others haven't yet thought of? I don't know, but I enjoy the process of watching him learn, always wondering where his path will lead.
For various and differing reasons, public school didn't feel like the right option when my boys were old enough to be enrolled. At the same time, we were introduced to a wonderful family who had been home schooling for several years. We followed our system and they followed theirs, but that friendship was a gift to me at a time when I felt self-conscious making different choices from the other parents I knew. Since then, we have never moved to a new area without soon finding ourselves in the company of other home school families. My kids don't feel left out from the school crowd because there are other kids at church who don't go to the local school either.
So why after all these years would my boys attend public school? Mostly for the same reason they weren't before -- it feels like the right thing to do. For the last 10 years I have been using my own judgment and the input of my kids to determine what they would learn and where and how we would learn it. Textbooks, videos, online classes, classic books. Their interests right now are singing and cooking. Eric wants to be a chef, and the class at school gives him opportunity to cook several times a week without being interrupted by siblings and a distracted mom. Jared adores singing, and the choir program at the high school is top-notch. Dad drives to school everyday for work, and they still have plenty of time between classes to work on the subjects assigned by me, without getting caught up in the non-academic distractions that are sometimes detrimental at that time of life. I want them to be productive, but still have time to enjoy being part of our family when they aren't at school. They can enjoy learning without the extra distraction of grades and keeping pace with the rest of a class, taking as much or as little time as necessary to really learn what they are studying.
As for the rest of the family, the part-time absence of the older boys means that Samuel and Susannah have the opportunity to be the oldest ones at home during the day. Jared and Eric have been the trailblazers as I experiment with education at home. Now they are prepared to learn from other mentors and my focus is shifting to those who have played the "middle child" role, finding their own place between the big kids and the toddlers who want my constant attention. They will find themselves with more privileges, but also more attention and the expectation that they will complete their chores and schoolwork without excuses. We discuss together what they will be learning each year and set schedules so there is no confusion about what is expected. If they show me they have completed their assignments and chores, their time is their own. However, if they get sidetracked, there is no telling what I might find for them to do. One of my goals (as a mother) is for them to learn to use their time effectively without being watched constantly.
My short-term goal with the younger children this year is to get to a point within the next 2 months that they know what they are doing each day and can help each other enough so that the introduction of a new baby won't upset the balance of the household. They already help each other with chores and meals. I hope their learning is at a point that they don't need mom looking over their shoulder to stay on task. Jesse has been working all summer on his "chores" and finally goes to someone else if I am not immediately available. I hope to spend enough time with Emery and Susannah that they know they have a good relationship with me and feel confident in their abilities to follow through on their chores without being reminded so their can have the same privileges of free time that their older brothers take advantage of.
As for me, the decision to homeschool has been one of the best things I have done. I know my children and have good relationships with all of them. I am excited to watch their talents unfold, and I have been challenged to study and learn to continue providing learning opportunities for them. I have a lot of excitement and faith about the future. I have seen the hand of God in the lives of my children, and I know that they are being prepared in some way for a future I can't quite understand from the viewpoint of today. I am a better person for the time we spend together, and I can't think of any group of people who would be more patient and forgiving as I try to be the kind of person I would ideally like to be.
Monday, May 9, 2011
Happy Mother's Day
Yesterday was Mother's Day. I guess this is the point I talk would normally talk about all the things that were done, or not done in honor of Myself. Well, truth be told, I have a great family, and they don't wait for a special day on the calendar to make up for a year of neglect. What I really wanted to share is something that happened today that I want to remember and think about for awhile.
If I remember correctly, Friday was the day Gideon found me in my room with uneaten crackers in one hand, telling me in his own way that something was wrong. I knew he wanted the crackers, just like he wanted the opened (but uneaten) jelly sandwich from lunch. A little investigation revealed his front tooth, like the one next to it, was cracked and bothering him. From that point until early this morning we have struggled with sleepless nights, temporary pain relievers, hugs, appropriate foods, and worry. Some of the other children have had teeth extracted for infections that affected the nerve, but they were older. They could tell us what was wrong and we could talk them through the procedure. Gideon is only 2. I spent the weekend hoping without real hope that maybe it was just a piece of something that was lodged and the dentist could flick it out without any effort. I thought of my own trauma with big needles and drills, broken wisdom teeth, a numb mouth that would inevitably get bitten no matter how careful I was chewing while the feeling returned to normal. How could someone so small, barely able to express himself with a few words and gestures understand the procedures necessary to help him?
This morning before Daniel went to work he gave both Gideon and I priesthood blessings. I was teary and emotional without words or thoughts to explain this, even to myself. By 10am I was sitting in "the chair" with Gideon on my lap. He just wanted to hold me tight, and it took effort just to look at the dentist, let alone open his mouth for any kind of look inside. We talked to him, demonstrated, blew a latex glove into a balloon, getting just enough response to know that the teeth were definitely the problem. What next? Would they have to put him under just to get his mouth open?
All I could think was "Daddy might help." I called Daniel from there in "the chair". He was at work, but those few moments on the phone where Gideon could hear his voice unlocked something . Daniel assured me he could be there in 15 minutes, whatever difference that might make, and I assumed we would wait it out. However, after the call ended, Gideon started responding again. He opened his mouth for another look and before I really knew what was happening, the dentist had the gum numbed, the needle in place, and I just watched. Soon two teeth were out, and I was holding bloody gauze in the gap because Gideon (after finally opening his mouth) didn't like the new feel of closing it.
What went though my mind and heart in those brief moments in "the chair" may take my a lifetime to fully understand. I thought of Mother's Day. I thought of my whole life being spent trying to keep my children safe and unharmed, yet here I was providing both the restraint and the reassurance that this moment would soon pass, and "shall be for thy good." How could I bear watching my little child suffer the consequences of choices he didn't understand, some of which he had no control over. Yet where else could I possibly be at such a time? I thought of myself in relation to my Heavenly Father and my Savior. Have they also carried me into the very trials (as I perceive them) which would actually heal me from spiritual infection and abscesses? Are they sitting with me in "the chair" watching the hands and instruments work toward my healing that I can see only in part?
Who is more changed today? Gideon came home and slept for several hours before resuming his typical behaviors. In a couple days I hope he has nothing left of this weekend other than two fewer teeth (and maybe a need for speech therapy when they finally grow again in 3-4 years). I, on the other hand, feel eternally changed. Some experiences from parenting are burned into my memory forever. The emotions fade over time, but the insights I gain about my relation to God are still clear to me after a decade or more. Today was one of those.
Happy Mother's Day!
If I remember correctly, Friday was the day Gideon found me in my room with uneaten crackers in one hand, telling me in his own way that something was wrong. I knew he wanted the crackers, just like he wanted the opened (but uneaten) jelly sandwich from lunch. A little investigation revealed his front tooth, like the one next to it, was cracked and bothering him. From that point until early this morning we have struggled with sleepless nights, temporary pain relievers, hugs, appropriate foods, and worry. Some of the other children have had teeth extracted for infections that affected the nerve, but they were older. They could tell us what was wrong and we could talk them through the procedure. Gideon is only 2. I spent the weekend hoping without real hope that maybe it was just a piece of something that was lodged and the dentist could flick it out without any effort. I thought of my own trauma with big needles and drills, broken wisdom teeth, a numb mouth that would inevitably get bitten no matter how careful I was chewing while the feeling returned to normal. How could someone so small, barely able to express himself with a few words and gestures understand the procedures necessary to help him?
This morning before Daniel went to work he gave both Gideon and I priesthood blessings. I was teary and emotional without words or thoughts to explain this, even to myself. By 10am I was sitting in "the chair" with Gideon on my lap. He just wanted to hold me tight, and it took effort just to look at the dentist, let alone open his mouth for any kind of look inside. We talked to him, demonstrated, blew a latex glove into a balloon, getting just enough response to know that the teeth were definitely the problem. What next? Would they have to put him under just to get his mouth open?
All I could think was "Daddy might help." I called Daniel from there in "the chair". He was at work, but those few moments on the phone where Gideon could hear his voice unlocked something . Daniel assured me he could be there in 15 minutes, whatever difference that might make, and I assumed we would wait it out. However, after the call ended, Gideon started responding again. He opened his mouth for another look and before I really knew what was happening, the dentist had the gum numbed, the needle in place, and I just watched. Soon two teeth were out, and I was holding bloody gauze in the gap because Gideon (after finally opening his mouth) didn't like the new feel of closing it.
What went though my mind and heart in those brief moments in "the chair" may take my a lifetime to fully understand. I thought of Mother's Day. I thought of my whole life being spent trying to keep my children safe and unharmed, yet here I was providing both the restraint and the reassurance that this moment would soon pass, and "shall be for thy good." How could I bear watching my little child suffer the consequences of choices he didn't understand, some of which he had no control over. Yet where else could I possibly be at such a time? I thought of myself in relation to my Heavenly Father and my Savior. Have they also carried me into the very trials (as I perceive them) which would actually heal me from spiritual infection and abscesses? Are they sitting with me in "the chair" watching the hands and instruments work toward my healing that I can see only in part?
Who is more changed today? Gideon came home and slept for several hours before resuming his typical behaviors. In a couple days I hope he has nothing left of this weekend other than two fewer teeth (and maybe a need for speech therapy when they finally grow again in 3-4 years). I, on the other hand, feel eternally changed. Some experiences from parenting are burned into my memory forever. The emotions fade over time, but the insights I gain about my relation to God are still clear to me after a decade or more. Today was one of those.
Happy Mother's Day!
Sunday, April 3, 2011
Kudos!
Mom and Dad,
I just wanted to say "Thank You" for the lessons you have taught me. Without your steady example of right living I would not be the person, or the mother, I am today.
You might look at the choices I have made in my life and wonder how my life has led me where I am, but most of the major decisions that have brought me to this point in my life are a direct result of either your counsel or your example. Here are a few examples:
~I married my best friend.
~Each Sunday our family attends church.
~We read scriptures together as a family, and the kids all have habits of personal prayer and scripture study.
~I believe it is my responsibility to care for my own children and be home when they are.
~I support them in developing the talents they desire.
~I am involved in their education.
~I know without a doubt that children come from heaven and God has a hand in our family composition (large or small).
~Moms can "have it all" (job, spending money, travel, new cars, etc,) but they can't have it all NOW- there will be opportunities for anything I want or need if I put first things first and nurture my children when they still need me full-time.
~We moved to Snowflake.
~Big families might be hard sometimes, but they also have their advantages.
I am sure there are many more that I will think of, but I hope you see what I am seeing. The lessons I needed to know so that I could be where I am - doing what I do - were instilled in me day by day. I don't even blink when someone comments on my family size. Its a piece of cake having a big family where we are now compared to living in Las Vegas in the 1980s.
During conference yesterday I was taken back that Elder Nelson would say, "Seldom in the future will it be easy or popular to be a faithful Latter-day Saint." As I have thought about this more today, I realize that its like anything else. If you already know what to do, the decision is easy. We do what we do because we are who we are. It wasn't easy or popular for you to live with the choices you made in your family. I know that the future will be challenging for my family as well. I don't know the trials we will have to face individually, or as a family before the world settles into the place it is intended to become. I just know that my safety is in keeping the commandments of God and teaching my children to do the same.
As I have pondered my life mission and the influences that have led me to it, I realize that right now the most important thing I can do is to teach my children and prepare them for their place in the world, not knowing the world they will be asked to live in. I welcome all the children to my family the Lord chooses to send because He knows me, and He knows them. I teach my children at home because there isn't time in the periphery of the day for me to instill the examples of faith and family love that I feel so urgent about. My life isn't perfect, but I have faith that it is perfect for me. My trials are refining me into a person with more compassion, humility, and faith than I could have known otherwise. On the other hand, my family provides a continuous source of joy beyond what I knew was possible.
I love you. I know the Lord will continue to bless you on your mission.
By the way, in case you haven't read the previous blog posts yet (I never told anyone I was writing one) we are expecting an addition to our family in October. I am so excited!
I just wanted to say "Thank You" for the lessons you have taught me. Without your steady example of right living I would not be the person, or the mother, I am today.
You might look at the choices I have made in my life and wonder how my life has led me where I am, but most of the major decisions that have brought me to this point in my life are a direct result of either your counsel or your example. Here are a few examples:
~I married my best friend.
~Each Sunday our family attends church.
~We read scriptures together as a family, and the kids all have habits of personal prayer and scripture study.
~I believe it is my responsibility to care for my own children and be home when they are.
~I support them in developing the talents they desire.
~I am involved in their education.
~I know without a doubt that children come from heaven and God has a hand in our family composition (large or small).
~Moms can "have it all" (job, spending money, travel, new cars, etc,) but they can't have it all NOW- there will be opportunities for anything I want or need if I put first things first and nurture my children when they still need me full-time.
~We moved to Snowflake.
~Big families might be hard sometimes, but they also have their advantages.
I am sure there are many more that I will think of, but I hope you see what I am seeing. The lessons I needed to know so that I could be where I am - doing what I do - were instilled in me day by day. I don't even blink when someone comments on my family size. Its a piece of cake having a big family where we are now compared to living in Las Vegas in the 1980s.
During conference yesterday I was taken back that Elder Nelson would say, "Seldom in the future will it be easy or popular to be a faithful Latter-day Saint." As I have thought about this more today, I realize that its like anything else. If you already know what to do, the decision is easy. We do what we do because we are who we are. It wasn't easy or popular for you to live with the choices you made in your family. I know that the future will be challenging for my family as well. I don't know the trials we will have to face individually, or as a family before the world settles into the place it is intended to become. I just know that my safety is in keeping the commandments of God and teaching my children to do the same.
As I have pondered my life mission and the influences that have led me to it, I realize that right now the most important thing I can do is to teach my children and prepare them for their place in the world, not knowing the world they will be asked to live in. I welcome all the children to my family the Lord chooses to send because He knows me, and He knows them. I teach my children at home because there isn't time in the periphery of the day for me to instill the examples of faith and family love that I feel so urgent about. My life isn't perfect, but I have faith that it is perfect for me. My trials are refining me into a person with more compassion, humility, and faith than I could have known otherwise. On the other hand, my family provides a continuous source of joy beyond what I knew was possible.
I love you. I know the Lord will continue to bless you on your mission.
By the way, in case you haven't read the previous blog posts yet (I never told anyone I was writing one) we are expecting an addition to our family in October. I am so excited!
Sunday, March 20, 2011
Mission Coaches, Guidance Counselors
I think I am finally ready to put write what has been in the back of my mind for a couple weeks now. I was challenged to think of those sources of inspiration who have been the lights on my path in preparing for my personal mission in life. The actual questions were something like:
Think of the best teacher you ever had.
What teacher most inspired you to greatness in your life?
What made him/her/it the greatest teacher in your life?
Was she caring? demanding? Did it move you deeply and passionately and make you want to be great?
As I thought back over my years as a child and youth, I was surprised to see that the people and books that inspired me most had little or nothing to do with personal achievement. I always felt like I had a multitude of talents and could be great at almost anything if I only knew where to focus my efforts. However, I never found that focus. So I drifted through school earning excellent grades, not really knowing what I would do with my life, afraid to tap into new subjects where I might have to really struggle, or even fail for the first time. In the last few years, I have felt some regret that with my opportunities I could have earned a really great education, before the business of family life set upon me. I already knew I could do anything, I just needed someone else to take me aside, confirm what I thought and then lead me on to challenges that would really make me grow. I needed what I now would call a mentor.
Instead, I look back on the influences that were meaningful during those growing years and see that I was given a different gift. One of my favorite books was (and still is) A Little Princess. Each time I read it, I am inspired by Sara who determined to act like a princess, regardless of her circumstances. When beaten by the cook, or sent to work without meals, she would comfort herself with the thought that they would be surprised if they discovered she was a princess after all. Her thoughts led her to hold her head a little higher and be a little kinder, until the day she was rescued. This rescue would not have happened had she not caught the attention of virtual strangers, impressed by some inner quality that radiated from the little girl with nothing to commend her to them.
The other people who meant the most to me were generally adults who took an interest in me as a person. I liked them because they seemed to like me as a person, independent of my grades at school. These were teachers who introduced me to their lives outside the classroom by telling stories of travel, former interests, and their family. I was asked to babysit for two of my favorite teachers and love them to this day for thinking of me, even though I admit I didn't enjoy babysitting. Other great teachers were youth leaders who seemed just as happy to plan an activity for one (me) as for a roomful of kids. At school I was smart; at home I was useful and responsible; with these teachers and leaders I was just myself at a time when I didn't even know who that was.
The gift I have gained through these experiences was not what I expected when starting this assignment. I was initially disappointed with lost opportunities for learning and personal growth, but I realize now my mentors instead set the foundation for me to recognize my self-worth before God. I have known for a long time that God loves me. I know He knows me individually and has a great interest in the affairs of my life because these great women cared to know me an take an interest in my life. Educational opportunities are still before me, if I choose to direct my life in those areas. However, the complete trust I have in God, knowing some sense of my worth before him through these individuals, has been an anchor through some of the most difficult trials of my life which I would not trade for anything.
And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf or misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall. (Helaman 5:12)
Think of the best teacher you ever had.
What teacher most inspired you to greatness in your life?
What made him/her/it the greatest teacher in your life?
Was she caring? demanding? Did it move you deeply and passionately and make you want to be great?
As I thought back over my years as a child and youth, I was surprised to see that the people and books that inspired me most had little or nothing to do with personal achievement. I always felt like I had a multitude of talents and could be great at almost anything if I only knew where to focus my efforts. However, I never found that focus. So I drifted through school earning excellent grades, not really knowing what I would do with my life, afraid to tap into new subjects where I might have to really struggle, or even fail for the first time. In the last few years, I have felt some regret that with my opportunities I could have earned a really great education, before the business of family life set upon me. I already knew I could do anything, I just needed someone else to take me aside, confirm what I thought and then lead me on to challenges that would really make me grow. I needed what I now would call a mentor.
Instead, I look back on the influences that were meaningful during those growing years and see that I was given a different gift. One of my favorite books was (and still is) A Little Princess. Each time I read it, I am inspired by Sara who determined to act like a princess, regardless of her circumstances. When beaten by the cook, or sent to work without meals, she would comfort herself with the thought that they would be surprised if they discovered she was a princess after all. Her thoughts led her to hold her head a little higher and be a little kinder, until the day she was rescued. This rescue would not have happened had she not caught the attention of virtual strangers, impressed by some inner quality that radiated from the little girl with nothing to commend her to them.
The other people who meant the most to me were generally adults who took an interest in me as a person. I liked them because they seemed to like me as a person, independent of my grades at school. These were teachers who introduced me to their lives outside the classroom by telling stories of travel, former interests, and their family. I was asked to babysit for two of my favorite teachers and love them to this day for thinking of me, even though I admit I didn't enjoy babysitting. Other great teachers were youth leaders who seemed just as happy to plan an activity for one (me) as for a roomful of kids. At school I was smart; at home I was useful and responsible; with these teachers and leaders I was just myself at a time when I didn't even know who that was.
The gift I have gained through these experiences was not what I expected when starting this assignment. I was initially disappointed with lost opportunities for learning and personal growth, but I realize now my mentors instead set the foundation for me to recognize my self-worth before God. I have known for a long time that God loves me. I know He knows me individually and has a great interest in the affairs of my life because these great women cared to know me an take an interest in my life. Educational opportunities are still before me, if I choose to direct my life in those areas. However, the complete trust I have in God, knowing some sense of my worth before him through these individuals, has been an anchor through some of the most difficult trials of my life which I would not trade for anything.
And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf or misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall. (Helaman 5:12)
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Where are you going?
Alice: Which way ought I to go from here?
Cheshire Cat: That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.
Alice: I don't much care where, as long as I get somewhere.
Cheshire Cat: Oh, you're sure to do that, if you only walk long enough!
For the past couple weeks I have been trying so sort my thoughts about the people, books, and experiences that have guided me to where I currently find myself in life. In the process of reading a new book "The Student Whisperer", I was challenged to stop and consider the people and experiences who have inspired me to be my better self and to succeed in my personal life mission.
Maybe part of what I am looking for is what Alice sought in Wonderland. She knew she wanted to arrive somewhere, but had no experience of her own to influence her choice of destination. It has been a gradual process of many years for me to realize that I might have a personal mission that is meaningful and unique to myself. I could see very early in the lives of each of my children that they were dynamic, talented individuals with a purpose in life. I knew as a mother I needed to prepare them to take charge of whatever their missions might be, so I have tried to help them develop personal habits that will form a solid core of faith and virtue as well as education. In the meantime, I have often wondered how different my life would have been had I understood for myself the vision I can see so clearly for them.
Maybe not all missions can be set out upon intentionally. What I mean is, I have known so many wonderful women who truly desired to be mothers. It seemed to be born into them to care for dolls, plan for a future wedding, and think about surrounding themselves with lots of little children to feed, clothe and nurture. However, their many of these same women were limited by no opportunity for marriage, or personal circumstances which made them unable to have the family they had dreamed of. On the other hand, I never saw myself as the mother of a large family. Ask my mother how many times I questioned her own judgment in this matter. I was happy to head off to college, not looking back. I picked my own classes, roommates, activities, with no consideration other than what my friends were doing and whether I would graduate before my scholarship ran out. I wasn't particularly looking for a husband when I returned from a missionary opportunity in Korea. In fact, I thought it would take awhile for me to find anyone I could just be myself with, and even longer to be married. However, less than a year after returning to the US, I was married, back in graduate school, and on the steepest learning curve for personal growth I had ever experienced.
Now, after almost 15 years, I am beginning to think that I have not only found my mission, but am, in fact, smack in the middle of it, preparing children for their own greatness. I am a more selfless person than I used to be, and have a much better recognition of my faults. And I can honestly say, that marriage and motherhood has done more than anything else in my life to make me a better person, and that is one mission I have always known was mine.
Cheshire Cat: That depends a good deal on where you want to get to.
Alice: I don't much care where, as long as I get somewhere.
Cheshire Cat: Oh, you're sure to do that, if you only walk long enough!
For the past couple weeks I have been trying so sort my thoughts about the people, books, and experiences that have guided me to where I currently find myself in life. In the process of reading a new book "The Student Whisperer", I was challenged to stop and consider the people and experiences who have inspired me to be my better self and to succeed in my personal life mission.
Maybe part of what I am looking for is what Alice sought in Wonderland. She knew she wanted to arrive somewhere, but had no experience of her own to influence her choice of destination. It has been a gradual process of many years for me to realize that I might have a personal mission that is meaningful and unique to myself. I could see very early in the lives of each of my children that they were dynamic, talented individuals with a purpose in life. I knew as a mother I needed to prepare them to take charge of whatever their missions might be, so I have tried to help them develop personal habits that will form a solid core of faith and virtue as well as education. In the meantime, I have often wondered how different my life would have been had I understood for myself the vision I can see so clearly for them.
Maybe not all missions can be set out upon intentionally. What I mean is, I have known so many wonderful women who truly desired to be mothers. It seemed to be born into them to care for dolls, plan for a future wedding, and think about surrounding themselves with lots of little children to feed, clothe and nurture. However, their many of these same women were limited by no opportunity for marriage, or personal circumstances which made them unable to have the family they had dreamed of. On the other hand, I never saw myself as the mother of a large family. Ask my mother how many times I questioned her own judgment in this matter. I was happy to head off to college, not looking back. I picked my own classes, roommates, activities, with no consideration other than what my friends were doing and whether I would graduate before my scholarship ran out. I wasn't particularly looking for a husband when I returned from a missionary opportunity in Korea. In fact, I thought it would take awhile for me to find anyone I could just be myself with, and even longer to be married. However, less than a year after returning to the US, I was married, back in graduate school, and on the steepest learning curve for personal growth I had ever experienced.
Now, after almost 15 years, I am beginning to think that I have not only found my mission, but am, in fact, smack in the middle of it, preparing children for their own greatness. I am a more selfless person than I used to be, and have a much better recognition of my faults. And I can honestly say, that marriage and motherhood has done more than anything else in my life to make me a better person, and that is one mission I have always known was mine.
Monday, February 28, 2011
Family Secrets
Today we celebrated Gideon's second birthday. (It's really tomorrow, but there is so much scheduled that we wanted to make sure the celebration wasn't overlooked.)
For most of the day I have been thinking and remembering how our lives have changed since the morning he came into our family. Gideon was born at home after what has to be one of the easiest labor experiences a parent could hope for. He was healthy, I felt great, and we had a couple hours to get acquainted before the brothers and sisters would be up to hear the exciting news. Since that day, Gideon has been a ray of sunshine wherever he goes. Even as a baby he would make eye contact and smile with people sitting behind us in church. I think his intention was to see how many smiles he could initiate before the meeting ended. He still occasionally hops off my lap and wanders to various pews to spark a smile from someone who needs a little special attention. He loves hugs, and is constantly watching to see what is happening around him so he can learn life's important lessons from the people who love him. These include how to do the laundry, unload the dishwasher, and cook (I have to watch VERY closely, and he understands the word "HOT"). He wants to put on special shoes for dance class and lines up with the rest of the family when the music starts.
I still vividly remember standing in the bathroom later on the morning of his birth, being so impressed and grateful for the blessings we had experienced when I was struck by the thought that he would not be our last child. For the last two years I have wondered how long Gideon would be my little baby, and who was still waiting to join our growing family. After seven healthy, wonderful children, I feel humbled. Humbled to think that I daily stand in the presence of spiritual giants. Can I really be so fortunate to be the mother of another precious soul the equal of those I already know and love? Humbled to realize that my body isn't quite a resilient as it was in those early years of marriage. To a great extent I have to put my trust in God that He will support and sustain me sufficiently to do what needs to be done (but maybe not without significant effort and even inconvenience on my part). Humbled to realize that the growth I have experienced as an adult is directly related to learning to cope with challenges in my marriage and parenting. I will be returning to the school ground of interrupted sleep, breastfeeding concerns, and possibly some new challenges that will continue to refine my better self.
Announcing the expectation of a new baby has never been easy for me. When Daniel and I found we were pregnant for the first time, it was something that I just wanted to keep to myself for awhile. When we finally told our parents a month later, I still felt like it was something private and personal, not to be the topic of idle family gossip. A week later, I miscarried. Our first child was born almost a year later, and I still felt like I needed the privacy of my own home and family to make these adjustments, without fanfare and attending well-wishers. A year later I found myself pregnant again, surprised that I could be 4 months along before realizing what was happening. By our third pregnancy, I was sensitive to the fact that our blessings might be the source of pain to family and friends who were struggling to start their own families. I wished there was a way to quietly have our family without adding to the emotional burdens of others. When family is too far away to be of immediate help, does the knowledge of a future birth add anything to their happiness when it might be the source of some very real pain? Those I wanted most to spare were the ones who would probably think about it most.
As the mother of seven children, I don't think one more makes much difference in the eyes of curious onlookers. Several weeks ago, I learned that my talents as a mother were again being called into service. I am thrilled, and somewhat surprised that for the first time I really want to tell the world how excited I am about whoever will be joining our family. At the same time, my history keeps me quiet about the thoughts that constantly fill my mind and heart. I haven't told my parents or siblings, waiting until the time passes that marked the end of my first pregnancy. I haven't told my friends here because I don't want them to think about me any differently yet. I enjoy being asked how I am doing, when I think it refers to my daily life and children because I can testify that my life is good, we are healthy, God has blessed us. As soon as I think my kind friends are thinking about my pregnancy, the answer changes to queasy stomach and a new need for naps. Maybe my reservations are just some false pride. I don't enjoy being the center of attention. I don't enjoy imagining that my choices might be the subject of another's scrutiny. Maybe this is another of the lessons I still need to work through. But...
For the record, I am excited to announce the arrival of another member of the Rowles family, expected early in October 2011.
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Self-improvement
Saturday morning is here. I can hear the kids in the kitchen fixing their own breakfasts, just like they do most mornings. Something inside me wants to be with them, flipping pancakes or pouring cereal, but I sit comfortable in my warm bed and look around me, almost overwhelmed by the projects and chores that I wish were completed. The laundry is folded, but still in piles; the bathroom mats are washed, but the floor is unswept. In the kitchen I know the dishwasher needs to be emptied, and the table wiped from dinner last night.
Almost every morning I remind myself of the verse: Cease to be idle; cease to be unclean; cease to find fault one with another; cease to sleep longer than is needful; retire to thy bed early, that ye may not be weary; arise early,that your bodies and your minds may be invigorated. (D&C 88:124) Then I wonder why the evening hours so easily pass away until I can't keep my eyes open any longer (accomplishing nothing) and I wake the next morning already behind the kids and reminded of tasks I want to tackle but don't have the motivation to start.
I wasn't always this way. Growing up I enjoyed waking at 5:00. Probably the only time of the day the house was quiet and I could have it all to myself. There was time to shower, eat breakfast, take as long as needed to prepare for the day before heading off to school by the time the house started to stir. In college I worked the opening shift at the library, and never had any trouble being there when the doors were unlocked. Early hours on my mission were also a peaceful delight. I have thought how so much has changed. I still want to arise before daybreak and use those quiet hours to prepare myself and my home for the day, but another late night and another morning where I feel like I am already so far behind I can't catch up.
I can tell you all the reason, or I should say circumstances that have led to the change - years of interrupted sleep from pregnancy and nursing babies who never get the hang of sleeping through the night, a night owl husband who likes the quiet time together without interruptions from children, finishing a show that takes longer than expected, or following the inspiration to look up "just one thing really quick" on the internet that leads to hours of follow-up. None of them bad in and of themselves, yet the quiet voice continues: arise early that your bodies and your minds may be invigorated". I can't escape it. Regardless of my motives, the consequences remain. My mind is in a fog. I spend too much time each day just trying to think what I should be doing, or just wanting to enjoy my thoughts, but realizing that they are as cluttered at the kitchen and as hard as I try they can't communicate with me in a meaningful way.
I guess this is one of the reasons I decided to start writing again. So my thoughts have a place to organize themselves so I can benefit from them.
Now it is time to get up for real. We are helping with a service project this morning and with half an hour to get ready to go, I HAVE to do something. Maybe after helping to clean up someone else's clutter I will be inspired to come home and tackle my own.
Almost every morning I remind myself of the verse: Cease to be idle; cease to be unclean; cease to find fault one with another; cease to sleep longer than is needful; retire to thy bed early, that ye may not be weary; arise early,that your bodies and your minds may be invigorated. (D&C 88:124) Then I wonder why the evening hours so easily pass away until I can't keep my eyes open any longer (accomplishing nothing) and I wake the next morning already behind the kids and reminded of tasks I want to tackle but don't have the motivation to start.
I wasn't always this way. Growing up I enjoyed waking at 5:00. Probably the only time of the day the house was quiet and I could have it all to myself. There was time to shower, eat breakfast, take as long as needed to prepare for the day before heading off to school by the time the house started to stir. In college I worked the opening shift at the library, and never had any trouble being there when the doors were unlocked. Early hours on my mission were also a peaceful delight. I have thought how so much has changed. I still want to arise before daybreak and use those quiet hours to prepare myself and my home for the day, but another late night and another morning where I feel like I am already so far behind I can't catch up.
I can tell you all the reason, or I should say circumstances that have led to the change - years of interrupted sleep from pregnancy and nursing babies who never get the hang of sleeping through the night, a night owl husband who likes the quiet time together without interruptions from children, finishing a show that takes longer than expected, or following the inspiration to look up "just one thing really quick" on the internet that leads to hours of follow-up. None of them bad in and of themselves, yet the quiet voice continues: arise early that your bodies and your minds may be invigorated". I can't escape it. Regardless of my motives, the consequences remain. My mind is in a fog. I spend too much time each day just trying to think what I should be doing, or just wanting to enjoy my thoughts, but realizing that they are as cluttered at the kitchen and as hard as I try they can't communicate with me in a meaningful way.
I guess this is one of the reasons I decided to start writing again. So my thoughts have a place to organize themselves so I can benefit from them.
Now it is time to get up for real. We are helping with a service project this morning and with half an hour to get ready to go, I HAVE to do something. Maybe after helping to clean up someone else's clutter I will be inspired to come home and tackle my own.
Thursday, February 24, 2011
Developing Talents
Inspire, not require; you, not them.I'm probably misquoting this bit of wisdom. It pops into my head when I think about all the great ways my children should or could be spending their time. However, the impression remains that it's time for me to leave my comfort zone as an internet "lurker", and use my writing skills. Maybe I can inspire Samuel to edit his writing before sharing it; maybe Susannah will remember to finish the scarf she started for her sister. But if not, at least I will learn a new skill, and start writing instead of just thinking about writing.
I actually don't know whether I am writing for myself, or anyone else who might come across this page. I spend most of my day surrounded by the people I love most. I cook; I clean; I teach; I pray. But honestly, with the interruptions to my tasks and thoughts, I need a chance to just organize my mind. I look forward to reading great books, learning all the things I never studied in school, relearning some of the things I may have studied and forgot, building talents, and developing character. Having a place to share all these things makes the learning more meaningful to me. Having said this, the end result of this blog is wide open. I don't know how much will be updates on family and personal activities, and how much will be just thinking on paper where the whole world might see.
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