Isn't it. But that's how I feel about the whole candy in church thing- or in school, for that matter. When I was in Primary, eons ago, we allowed teachers to bring candy twice a year (though I don't remember being involved in that decision- it must have been made before I came). I thought that was reasonable. The next time I was in primary, I remember a letter circulating about eliminating all food in primary. It lasted for awhile, but after 6 months was forgotten.
So, now let me reveal the hypocrite that is me. As I sit here typing this in our hotel room (we're attempting a beach trip during a hurricane), my children are arguing over the BAGS OF CANDY Daddy bought them down in the lobby. I've managed to keep candy out of the house lately, but once we leave, there are no guarantees-I have to let go sometimes. And I want to let go sometimes. Just not EVERY SINGLE DAY at church and at school.
I'm a really imperfect person and an even more imperfect mother, but I have learned a few things along the way, and if I could just apply them all to myself at the same time... well, it sure would be something. One thing I know for absolute certain is that what you put into your body is what you get out of it- on so many levels. Sugar is just the beginning.
Aaaaaand it's time for me to get goin'. Creighton needs his computer back
Remind me to take pictures of us at the beach during a hurricane. :)
Monday, August 31, 2009
Sunday, August 30, 2009
You Know What I Don't Love About Church?
Teachers handing out candy. I'm not talking about pieces, I'm talking BAGS of candy EVERY. SINGLE. SUNDAY.
AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Would somebody PLEASE tell them to STOP the INSANITY?!!
AAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
Would somebody PLEASE tell them to STOP the INSANITY?!!
You Know What I Love About Church?
Where on Earth could you ever go where you rub shoulders with a Chicken Farmer who knows the Appalachians like the back of his hand, a Police Seargent who plans to retire on a horse farm in the hills of West Virginia, a classical pianist who just took the Bar Exam and volunteers at the temple (3 hours away) in her spare time, and a former Italian linguist who's beginning a masters program in Library Science so she can be a Children's Librarian. These are just a few of the people I've met, worked with and had in our home from church, and we've only been here for 6 weeks.
The thing is, so often I hear people talk about how they don't need organized religion to worship God. That religion is personal- your own relationship with diety and nothing more. I believe that to a point. However, if there is one thing that was impressed on my mind, heart and soul as a missionary, it's that the whole purpose of the Gospel of Jesus Christ is to learn how to Love. It's about developing Charity, Pure Love for every other living thing; having our hearts literally changed so that we are filled with all of the qualities that characterize Christ, himself. So that when we meet Him, we Know Him, because we are Like Him. This does not happen by sitting on the sidelines, keeping our distance from all but a selective few whom we choose to associate with on more than a superficial level.
The great thing about church is how interactive it is. We are put in a position to work closely, often very closely, with individuals of every kind. It can sometimes be frustrating or annoying to work with people who have personalities and lifestyles so different from our own, but isn't that the point? How better to flex our charity muscles? To keep us from only loving those who are easy to love? From befriending only those who are just like we are? Or working only with those we know we could get along with?
In my opinion, pure religion goes far beyond ones personal relationship with God. Or, rather, one's personal relationship with God can only go so far without learning to truly love and serve those around you, regardless of personality, education, background, economic level, attitudes and beliefs. Because that is what God is and what God does. To have a true relationship with Him is to try to be what He Is and do what He Does.
I sat in Church today with a smile, thinking about our first Sunday here. On that day, I looked around me and saw very few, if any, people just like myself. I wondered who would be our friends here. Thankfully, I know from past experience that I will come to love this ward just as much as every other ward we've been in, but on that first Sunday, I admit I wondered "how." Today, as I looked around, I saw a colorful group of people who I'm already beginning to love and admire for the ways they differ from me, and for the examples they have already been to me.
And our first friend here?
The Chicken Farmer.
The thing is, so often I hear people talk about how they don't need organized religion to worship God. That religion is personal- your own relationship with diety and nothing more. I believe that to a point. However, if there is one thing that was impressed on my mind, heart and soul as a missionary, it's that the whole purpose of the Gospel of Jesus Christ is to learn how to Love. It's about developing Charity, Pure Love for every other living thing; having our hearts literally changed so that we are filled with all of the qualities that characterize Christ, himself. So that when we meet Him, we Know Him, because we are Like Him. This does not happen by sitting on the sidelines, keeping our distance from all but a selective few whom we choose to associate with on more than a superficial level.
The great thing about church is how interactive it is. We are put in a position to work closely, often very closely, with individuals of every kind. It can sometimes be frustrating or annoying to work with people who have personalities and lifestyles so different from our own, but isn't that the point? How better to flex our charity muscles? To keep us from only loving those who are easy to love? From befriending only those who are just like we are? Or working only with those we know we could get along with?
In my opinion, pure religion goes far beyond ones personal relationship with God. Or, rather, one's personal relationship with God can only go so far without learning to truly love and serve those around you, regardless of personality, education, background, economic level, attitudes and beliefs. Because that is what God is and what God does. To have a true relationship with Him is to try to be what He Is and do what He Does.
I sat in Church today with a smile, thinking about our first Sunday here. On that day, I looked around me and saw very few, if any, people just like myself. I wondered who would be our friends here. Thankfully, I know from past experience that I will come to love this ward just as much as every other ward we've been in, but on that first Sunday, I admit I wondered "how." Today, as I looked around, I saw a colorful group of people who I'm already beginning to love and admire for the ways they differ from me, and for the examples they have already been to me.
And our first friend here?
The Chicken Farmer.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
How Life Goes
I overheard this conversation between Luke and Abby at the lunch table today:
Luke: Okay, Abby, This is how life goes:
Baby
Toddler
Little Kid
Big Kid
College Dude
Married Guy
Dead
.
Luke: Okay, Abby, This is how life goes:
Baby
Toddler
Little Kid
Big Kid
College Dude
Married Guy
Dead
.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Come Out Come Out Wherever You Are!
My parents are in town for the week, so we went on a little field trip today to Monticello, the estate of Thomas Jefferson. The setting is beautiful, almost surreal, perched on a hilltop with a majestic view. And his home is a masterpiece- for that era, or any era, really. Harmoniously designed based on the minutest of mathematical proportions. It's not a huge house, just so interestingly planned- the product of a great mind. How did Thomas Jefferson accomplish so much in his life? He, his mind and his achievements are truly amazing to me. I wanted to linger in his home- as if I could absorb even a teeny tiny bit of that genius or inspiration. And the thing is- I don't necessarily think he was/is innately better than any of the rest of us. I'm sure that he wasn't a perfect person. It's that he did more than just scratch the surface of his potential. I get the sense that he was passionate about making every moment of his life count for something good- for intellectual, spiritual, physical, civil and natural progress of himself, mankind... and his own personal plot of land. And at the end of the day, after all he did on a grand scale, he reported himself as a "farmer" on the census, and was happiest at home, in his gardens, with his family.
What is My potential? Will I ever fully realize it? I think about this a lot. I feel like Time (or the lack there of) is the greatest obstacle. My days are often spent just trying to keep up with everyone's needs- a spiritual, physical, civil and natural challenge in and of itself, you could say. That's how I have to see it, because this is the life I have chosen, and the life I surrender myself to over and over again. I'm not talking about the wonderful parts. We all know the wonderful and fun is sprinkled throughout. I'm talking about the Tuff Stuff. It's not quite what anyone envisions when they think of making their mark in the world. But this is the stuff I've been given to work with. If I'm going to be like Thomas Jefferson, I have to figure out how to make every minute count. I have to make the morning ritual count, the family chores count, the resolving of squabbles, fits and tantrums, the soothing of owies, the making of beds, meals, errands, car time, nap time, bed time, fun time- I have to make all of that count right now. Because that is where it's at right now for me. Motherhood is my laboratory for Greatness; my chance to achieve something truly amazing out of the sometimes mundane or frustrating or inconvenient; to choose to check-in, rather than check-out; to squeeze the potential for progress out of every waking minute. Progress of the soul. I know it's possible. I get glimpses of it that spur me on just when I want to crawl in a hole and hide from it all. In fact, I would say that therein lies the supreme challenge of realizing human potential- of realizing My Potential:
To Come Out From Hiding.
[Follow Up:]
Just as I finished writing this, at Midnight, I heard Abby suddenly cry out upstairs. This never happens with Abby. But here's something about Abby: She loves me. She adores me. I don't feel deserving of it, because I know she wishes I could spend every waking and sleeping minute by her side. But I can't. She often asks me if I can sleep in her room. Or even just sit on her bed with her until she falls asleep. I rarely have time for that. No- I rarely make time for that. But deep down, I know that for Abby, there would be no greater feeling of love and peace and security- something every 6 year old little girl needs desperately.
Just now, instead of running upstairs, giving her a quick hug and ushering her back to bed in a hurry as I normally would in the middle of the night, I laid down with her, soothed her fears, and held her until she fell asleep. I was there. And a routine moment turned into something wonderful.
THAT is exactly what I'm talking about.
What is My potential? Will I ever fully realize it? I think about this a lot. I feel like Time (or the lack there of) is the greatest obstacle. My days are often spent just trying to keep up with everyone's needs- a spiritual, physical, civil and natural challenge in and of itself, you could say. That's how I have to see it, because this is the life I have chosen, and the life I surrender myself to over and over again. I'm not talking about the wonderful parts. We all know the wonderful and fun is sprinkled throughout. I'm talking about the Tuff Stuff. It's not quite what anyone envisions when they think of making their mark in the world. But this is the stuff I've been given to work with. If I'm going to be like Thomas Jefferson, I have to figure out how to make every minute count. I have to make the morning ritual count, the family chores count, the resolving of squabbles, fits and tantrums, the soothing of owies, the making of beds, meals, errands, car time, nap time, bed time, fun time- I have to make all of that count right now. Because that is where it's at right now for me. Motherhood is my laboratory for Greatness; my chance to achieve something truly amazing out of the sometimes mundane or frustrating or inconvenient; to choose to check-in, rather than check-out; to squeeze the potential for progress out of every waking minute. Progress of the soul. I know it's possible. I get glimpses of it that spur me on just when I want to crawl in a hole and hide from it all. In fact, I would say that therein lies the supreme challenge of realizing human potential- of realizing My Potential:
To Come Out From Hiding.
[Follow Up:]
Just as I finished writing this, at Midnight, I heard Abby suddenly cry out upstairs. This never happens with Abby. But here's something about Abby: She loves me. She adores me. I don't feel deserving of it, because I know she wishes I could spend every waking and sleeping minute by her side. But I can't. She often asks me if I can sleep in her room. Or even just sit on her bed with her until she falls asleep. I rarely have time for that. No- I rarely make time for that. But deep down, I know that for Abby, there would be no greater feeling of love and peace and security- something every 6 year old little girl needs desperately.
Just now, instead of running upstairs, giving her a quick hug and ushering her back to bed in a hurry as I normally would in the middle of the night, I laid down with her, soothed her fears, and held her until she fell asleep. I was there. And a routine moment turned into something wonderful.
THAT is exactly what I'm talking about.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
I Need To Keep Writing
because everyone's happy and occupied at the moment, and that just does not happen very often. So here's what I want to say right this very minute. I Love my friends. I have such good friends. So good, that I can be a million miles away from all of them and still feel like I'm surrounded by people who know me and love me in spite of myself, and who I could turn to at any time just to laugh, cry, gripe or gasp about life. It doesn't happen very often these days, simply because I can barely get a shower in before I've wiped out my daily quota of alone time... or chat time (I chat to myself in the shower. Uh..in my head).
The point is, I know some pretty great women. Friends who've come along one by one in my life and managed to stick around. Some unexpected, some thrown in my path, and some prayed for. Yes, I pray for friends. Or, rather, I've prayed to be friends with certain people I meet (I'm an introvert). And those prayers have always been answered. And the best part is how different so many of them are. For instance, here are some really silly friends:
Silly, Silly, Silly. You wouldn't know it by looking at the picture. Silliest women in the world. (Yes, "women," as we were reminded by some not-so-silly co-eds while we stalked our old apartment a few weeks ago. It's been 15 years since we've all been together- old roomates from BYU. You'd think we'd never grown up and ran off with husbands and children. Fun, fun friends, in the Slookiest of ways.
I was able to see so many good friends this summer before we left. So many little and big reunions and get-togethers. Sadly, I didn't have my darn camera with me for most of them. Thanks to Slooky Slistie for this one. Seeing so many of these friends lately made me wonder two things: 1) Am I going to die soon 2)How many of these friendships were designed before I lived. When people come in and out of your life, and not necessarily deliberately, over a span of 15-20 years (or more,) how can your relationship with them not be orchestrated? I think about all the ways they have been woven into my life, and I can't help but wonder if it won't continue until the day I die. [There I go using that word "die" again. I promise I don't have a death wish.]
Anyway, here's to my Slooks, Corner Girls, Stratford Ladies, Soeurs, DuPont and Daybreak women, Montana Kim, The Cuz and all the other wonderful friends I've made through the years who continue to pop in and out of my life and leave me feeling blessed to know you.
The point is, I know some pretty great women. Friends who've come along one by one in my life and managed to stick around. Some unexpected, some thrown in my path, and some prayed for. Yes, I pray for friends. Or, rather, I've prayed to be friends with certain people I meet (I'm an introvert). And those prayers have always been answered. And the best part is how different so many of them are. For instance, here are some really silly friends:
Silly, Silly, Silly. You wouldn't know it by looking at the picture. Silliest women in the world. (Yes, "women," as we were reminded by some not-so-silly co-eds while we stalked our old apartment a few weeks ago. It's been 15 years since we've all been together- old roomates from BYU. You'd think we'd never grown up and ran off with husbands and children. Fun, fun friends, in the Slookiest of ways.
I was able to see so many good friends this summer before we left. So many little and big reunions and get-togethers. Sadly, I didn't have my darn camera with me for most of them. Thanks to Slooky Slistie for this one. Seeing so many of these friends lately made me wonder two things: 1) Am I going to die soon 2)How many of these friendships were designed before I lived. When people come in and out of your life, and not necessarily deliberately, over a span of 15-20 years (or more,) how can your relationship with them not be orchestrated? I think about all the ways they have been woven into my life, and I can't help but wonder if it won't continue until the day I die. [There I go using that word "die" again. I promise I don't have a death wish.]
Anyway, here's to my Slooks, Corner Girls, Stratford Ladies, Soeurs, DuPont and Daybreak women, Montana Kim, The Cuz and all the other wonderful friends I've made through the years who continue to pop in and out of my life and leave me feeling blessed to know you.
I'm Feeling a Little..
...melancholy. Elder Tingey spoke in our Sacrament Meeting today and mentioned that Sunday meeting blocks were canceled throughout Utah today for the Oquirrh Mountain Temple dedication. I am so Sad that we aren't there for that. We lived three blocks away and watched it be built from the ground up. We did drive-bys and walk-bys and bike-bys throughout this past year, so excited to have a temple right next to us. We could see it from our windows! The kids participated in a special primary celebration with a balloon send-off that they'll always remember. We attended the open house as a family, and were in awe at the natural beauty and light throughout. It's breathtaking. All the while we were busy with all the commotion of moving. It was hard for me to process the fact that we would not be there for the dedication, and we would not realize our dreams of being able to walk to the temple for a session on lazy summer Saturdays, or any other time for that matter. Sigh. Such is life. Such is our life with all its crazy twists and turns.
Sunday, August 9, 2009
“Oh Shenandoah”
Virginia, here we are! Trees and bugs and “y’all”s welcomed us (and bit us) from the minute we arrived. We are surely in The South here, in case we (or you) ever wondered. It’s phenomenal to me that you can be in multi-cultural, international D.C., which somehow transcends any labels other than “fast-paced,” and yet you travel 1.5 hours south to Richmond and you’re in another world. I feel it, and I sense that the locals own it. For me, there are no negative associations with the South, other than, maybe, chiggers, or humidity, or hurricanes, but I definitely have a fascination with the general culture, which seems to be personified in that iconic Southern Drawl. It’s charming; the stuff of movies for a Westerner like me. I wonder if, or when, that charm will wear off and how much of it the kids and I will pick up. I never did take on the Quebecois accent as a French missionary in Canada- I couldn’t get my mouth to make those sounds. But already I find myself slipping into that slow and rolling southern thing in conversations here- just a little- just a smidgeon, but enough to make me wonder just how far it will go…
We’ve only just begun exploring the area- finally coming up for air from all the unpacking and general chaos of moving. If I tell you we’re moving again before at least five years have passed, just shoot me. The plane ride here was unbelievably smooth, though. The twins flew like veterans. Miri wasn’t too bad. It was just the last half hour or so (of a 4 hour flight) that things got a little hectic with wriggling bodies, but nothing to complain about. Phew! Thanks to Globe-Trotting Molly for sparking ideas for well-stocked back packs for the kids. It made a big difference.
We got to Baltimore and our new Eurovan was there waiting for us at the airport. We debated about buying a car this soon (Creighton had to let go of his rusty old truck), but it’s a good thing, because those flaky car shippers abandoned our Land Rover. It’s still sitting in Salt Lake at Grandma Rabiger’s house waiting for my parents to drive it out in a couple of weeks. We would’ve been car-less and shelling out thousands of dollars on a rental by now. Have I mentioned how much we love Eurovans?! We do, we do. We bought one many moons ago when we had 2.5 kids in Sugarhouse and Amy Moon laughed because….well…we only had 2.5 kids. I looked pretty funny driving that thing around- like I was driving a hotel shuttle. And now? Now, we pretty much need a hotel shuttle for our spontaneously multiplying kidlets. And all that spaciousness is refreshing. The trunk is a dream. I would buy this van for the trunk alone. Maybe I’ll take picture of it. Mind you, I’ve been living with a Land Rover for the past 3.5 years, which has absolutely NO trunk space. Great car, but NO storage space. Imagine road trips with NO storage space. Yup. Hallelujah for the Eurovan!! We’ll christen her with our first road trip here to the beach this week.
So, we’re here, safe and sound. And a little stir crazy. Trying to unpack with five little ones clamoring for my attention was interesting. I needed a plan for them, and I didn’t have one-- other than feeding hungry mouths and changing stinky diapers. PLANNING. That’s what I'm all about! When I do it, it’s amazing how smoothly life plays out in our home. It’s like the missing link to a head-banging math equation. You’d think I’d have it mastered by now after all these years of experimentation. I’m working on it, but thank heavens last week is over. Every box is unpacked- everything is in it’s place. My brain is making regular appearances now. Life WILL be calm and peaceful again (positive affirmations), the mosquitos WILL stop feasting on our legs (not sure about that one), Onward and Upward!
We’ve only just begun exploring the area- finally coming up for air from all the unpacking and general chaos of moving. If I tell you we’re moving again before at least five years have passed, just shoot me. The plane ride here was unbelievably smooth, though. The twins flew like veterans. Miri wasn’t too bad. It was just the last half hour or so (of a 4 hour flight) that things got a little hectic with wriggling bodies, but nothing to complain about. Phew! Thanks to Globe-Trotting Molly for sparking ideas for well-stocked back packs for the kids. It made a big difference.
We got to Baltimore and our new Eurovan was there waiting for us at the airport. We debated about buying a car this soon (Creighton had to let go of his rusty old truck), but it’s a good thing, because those flaky car shippers abandoned our Land Rover. It’s still sitting in Salt Lake at Grandma Rabiger’s house waiting for my parents to drive it out in a couple of weeks. We would’ve been car-less and shelling out thousands of dollars on a rental by now. Have I mentioned how much we love Eurovans?! We do, we do. We bought one many moons ago when we had 2.5 kids in Sugarhouse and Amy Moon laughed because….well…we only had 2.5 kids. I looked pretty funny driving that thing around- like I was driving a hotel shuttle. And now? Now, we pretty much need a hotel shuttle for our spontaneously multiplying kidlets. And all that spaciousness is refreshing. The trunk is a dream. I would buy this van for the trunk alone. Maybe I’ll take picture of it. Mind you, I’ve been living with a Land Rover for the past 3.5 years, which has absolutely NO trunk space. Great car, but NO storage space. Imagine road trips with NO storage space. Yup. Hallelujah for the Eurovan!! We’ll christen her with our first road trip here to the beach this week.
So, we’re here, safe and sound. And a little stir crazy. Trying to unpack with five little ones clamoring for my attention was interesting. I needed a plan for them, and I didn’t have one-- other than feeding hungry mouths and changing stinky diapers. PLANNING. That’s what I'm all about! When I do it, it’s amazing how smoothly life plays out in our home. It’s like the missing link to a head-banging math equation. You’d think I’d have it mastered by now after all these years of experimentation. I’m working on it, but thank heavens last week is over. Every box is unpacked- everything is in it’s place. My brain is making regular appearances now. Life WILL be calm and peaceful again (positive affirmations), the mosquitos WILL stop feasting on our legs (not sure about that one), Onward and Upward!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
