What's So Scary About A Mormon President?


I have read quite a few articles about Mitt Romney and how his religion might play a role in his Presidency if he is elected. Often these articles are full of carefully worded, vague concerns that don't really explain anything.

This week I read this quote by Georgia State Representative Judy Manning:

“I think Mitt Romney is a nice man, but I’m afraid of his Mormon faith,” Manning said. “It’s better than a Muslim. Of course, every time you look at the TV these days you find an ad on there telling us how normal they are. So why do they have to put ads on the TV just to convince us that they’re normal if they are normal? … If the Mormon faith adhered to a past philosophy of pluralism, multi-wives, that doesn’t follow the Christian faith of one man and one woman, and that concerns me.”   (Read more: The Marietta Daily Journal - Lawmakers sound off on )

As disheartening as it is, I think this quote really says what is on the minds of many Americans, especially those with strong religious connections.

First of all, people are afraid of us. Why? What exactly are they afraid of? Do they think Mitt Romney will pass a law that forces them into polygamist marriages? Do they think he will have all the Bibles burned and make their kids read the Book of Mormon in school? Do they think he will pass a dress code making everyone dress like missionaries? How much power do they think the President actually has?

I don't get it. What is there to be afraid of, really?

Rep. Manning asks why we have ads telling everyone how normal we are if we are normal. Well, a lot of people don't believe it. I have had friends tell me "You're not like other Mormons. You're normal."

When trying to tell someone that I am a Christian they refused to accept that, saying "You are part of a cult. You have been taught what to say to trick people into thinking you are something you're not. It's not your fault, you just don't know any better."

I have also been told that whatever I say that is consistent with "real Christian beliefs" is a con, a very long one at that! Apparently I am following the devil and he lies to lead people away so I must be lying too. It doesn't matter that I am an honest, upstanding person.

The people who said these things were convinced that I was putting on an act. They were sure that everything I did and said was a rouse to lead them away from God into the grips of Satan! How difficult it must be to live with such strong paranoia!

I think many Americans, including educated, professional, otherwise reasonable people prefer to err on the side of caution. They are still unsure about Mitt Romney and the other 5 million+ Mormon Americans. Could it be we are too good to be true? Could it be they just can't believe that a man might actually pray for guidance and follow it humbly? Is it too unbelievable that he might love his wife and be faithful to her? Is it really so bizarre that a man might be successful without stepping on others to get there?

There is also the idea that Romney "flips" on issues like gay marriage. I don't think his personal feelings about that issue have ever changed. I think the fact that he has been able to find reasonable solutions to volatile issues in spite of personal feelings is sign of how capable he is to lead the country. Some might say that he doesn't stand up for his beliefs, that he is morally weak if he is so willing to compromise. I disagree. It is easy to say what a person should have done in a situation you have never experienced. It is easy to self-righteously point the finger of blame when we disagree with someone. But does that make us right? Does it make them wrong?

What we are really doing here is hiring a man to run our country for a few years. If he does a good job we might let him do it for a few more years. If not he's fired. On a small scale people have learned that Mormons are good employees, good students, good citizens. Has the time come to apply that on a larger scale and see if a Mormon can make a good president, too?

Superpowers 101: Bridge Building

September 24, 2011 was the General Relief Society Meeting of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It was a wonderful meeting. Our local stake held an activity prior to the broadcast with light refreshments and a kind of show-and-tell from each ward Relief Society in the Stake. It was wonderful to see the service each group offers to the sisters in their ward and community.


I have attended many of these broadcasts. I have enjoyed the fellowship of Relief Society sisters from several countries and many states in the US. I have developed life-changing friendships with women of many different ages and family structures; single, married, grandmothers, great-grandmothers, childless, adoptive mothers, mothers with any number of children of every age. I have benefited richly from this fellowship. And I owe it all to Relief Society.

I was thinking all of this as I sat with sisters from my ward, munching treats and gabbing about random stuff. It felt good. Really good. I have always believed that no matter where in the world I go, if there is a Relief Society I will be home. What an amazing gift our Heavenly Father has given us! I really don't feel deserving!

(Now, hopefully you are all feeling this cozy, happy, comfort that I felt that night. You are reflecting on your own blessings from Relief Society.)

Just before we went into the chapel for the broadcast, our stake Young Women's President stood up. She shared her concerns for the young women of the stake. She pleaded with us to open our arms and hearts to them so they would not be turned off by the "old ladies" in Relief Society. She reminded us of the terrible losses during the single years when the young women are no longer "Young Women" but don't feel like they have a place in Relief Society either.

I honestly didn't hear most of the broadcast. I was so preoccupied with this issue. I know it is a serious one. It is not limited to our little corner of the world.

I thought about my own transition. It didn't seem so bad. Why?

Well, for one thing, when I was a teenager my mom was the Relief Society President in our ward so I got pretty familiar with the program. That year there was a request for us to do an on-going service project. Our ward made over 80 quilts for the local homeless shelter. The Young Women were invited to many Relief Society meetings to help tie quilts. While they did their "old lady" stuff we worked and talked. Because teenage girls can never talk enough, right?

After my mother was released our Young Women's President was called as the new Relief Society President. She had 2 daughters who were close to my age. I know that the Young Women of our ward were important to her. When my fellow Laurels and I were nearing graduation we were invited to Relief Society activities and there was even a special ceremony to welcome us. The details are a bit hazy but I remember being given a flower and thinking that it was really sweet of the RS Presidency to go to so much trouble. I guess they had the same concerns all those years ago.

Another factor that made my transition easy was the fellowship of the sisters in our ward. They were kind and friendly to the Young Women. I knew most of them and they were so eager to welcome me. I had my mother, grandmother, aunt, my cousin's wife, not to mention more distant relatives (yes, I came from one of "those" families!). We would joke and laugh and share gum or candies down the row. I felt I had joined some sort of club or... women's society...which I had. And they LOVED new members!

I also went to college in Utah. (That's kind of cheating, I know) I attended a student ward with students teaching and leading and doing Visiting Teaching. It was like playing "old lady". It wasn't that serious. Except that there were some girls in our ward with real problems. I discovered that while I was worried about which boy might like me and whether or not my hair was dumb, other girls my age were being raped, molested, and otherwise abused by boyfriends, neighbors and even family members. There were eating disorders and even substance abuse. Some were at BYU in the hopes that they could break out of their messed up worlds. For them, it was like going to a spiritual rehab clinic.

For me, it was like a crash course in how to put what I had learned into practice. For all the fake cheeriness that goes on in the church there is also suffering. Learning this lesson helped me grow up. Relief Society is not about knitting or baking. It isn't treat bags and scrapbooking. It is offering support to the suffering and comforting the needy. Befriending the lonely. It is lifting the fallen, strengthening, preparing, guiding, loving. It is WORK!!! And it is NOT for the faint of heart!

If we think Relief Society is for fun, for entertainment, for leisure, for friendship, we don't get it. Oh, sure. Relief Society provides all of that. But that isn't the true purpose. Relief Society is SO much more!

That is the message we need to send to our Young Women. And maybe ourselves. Service, kindness, love, these are not limited by age or marital status. They are not the interests of "old ladies" alone but all of Heavenly Father's children. With these stones in place, the bridge to Relief Society is easily passable.

How was your transition from Young Women to Relief Society?

Superwoman Origins: Part 3, Young Women

Young Women is the name of the program for teenage girls in the LDS church. As a girl between the ages of 12 and 18, we have a class together on Sundays, regular activities once a week, and other special activities like Girl's Camp, Youth Conference, dances and service projects. We also participate in a program called Personal Progress that helps us learn to set and achieve goals. It is a wonderful program and I feel very grateful to have been able to participate. I am sure this program made a very significant contribution to who I am today.

As I thought of writing about the Young Women's program, I found myself drawn to one particular event. I was a 12 year old, fresh out of Primary and completely open to suggestions about my future. A young sister was called to be the Beehive leader. She had a couple of kids and I think she was expecting. She worked full-time and didn't actually come to church very often. She was nice but I didn't really think she was the kind of person who would influence my life. In fact she was released after only a short time and I have no memory of her after that.

One Sunday, she brought a handout to go with the lesson. It said "You have divine attributes! You have the potential to become a Queen in the Celestial Kingdom." The message was handwritten on a little purple card with flowers in the corners.

I took it home and stuck on the mirror in my room. It stayed there for the next 6 years. I saw it every day. Sometimes I read it. Sometimes I just glanced at it and knew what it said. That little purple card was a constant reminder of who I am and who I want to become. I have no doubt that having such a reminder helped me navigate the dangerous waters of adolescence and emerge on the other side in one peice.

I still have that card, tucked away in a box of mementos. I saw it recently when I was trying to declutter. I instantly felt that same sense of importance I felt as a teenager. Not pride or arrogance but a feeling that I had potential and that my Heavenly Father wanted me to do my very best. I realized I hadn't felt that in a while.

I thought of that sweet sister from so long ago. I realized that even now I might think her contribution was insignificant, that she had not done well in her calling and that she had been replaced by someone better. I am sure I have judged many by the same measuring stick. I have learned how wrong that is. I only have vague memories of the person who replaced this sister. I am sure she did a fine job. While her consistency was certainly comforting and encouraging, she didn't make a lasting impression.

Working with the youth, even the Priamry children, can seem like a thankless effort. THe kids roll their eyes, pick at each other, stare into space, fidget, squirm, complain, play, kick, climb, cry and, sometimes smile. Bu we simply can't know what gets through. We might never know the fruits of our labors. This kind of calling requires great faith on our part.

I hope that those who work with the youth of the church never forget the power of their influence. You are adding drops of oil to lamps of testimony in the lives of those children. Each brings them that much closer to the Lord. Don't Ever give up on them!

Superpowers 101: Rescuing The Stranded

I have always had a soft spot for missionary work. It is thrilling to think of sharing the many blessing that come with membership in the true church. But, sadly, I am a big chicken. Once upon a time I was zealous, even pushy, about telling people about the church. It didn't produce much fruit. Well, none really. Then I got distracted by life and became a bit of a recluse when it came to the gospel. As an adult, I didn't have to interact with non-members much. It isn't like high school where you don't have a choice. I don't work outside the home either so I didn't have to speak to anyone who wasn't LDS if I didn't want to. And I didn't.


I realized a few years ago that I needed to make some changes in this area of my life. It has been hard. I still feel a little nervous participating in non-church activities. I used to feel panic and dread so I guess nervous is an improvement.

Being around non-members has been humbling for me. I have asked myself more than once "What can I offer them that they don't already have?" Now, I know my LDS readers will instantly think of a dozen answers to that question but how would I say that to a non-member? We tend to attract people with activities and friendship. What if they already have that? What makes our friendship better than the ones they already have?

I have been surprised by the answer I have gotten as I pondered this problem. The Spirit has guided me from one thought to another over the past several months. I was sharing my experience with an LDS friend and suggested she join me in going to a non-church activity. She said, "I don't really need that. Relief Society is enough for me."

Now, I might have said that myself a few years ago. I fully understand that sentiment and I don't mean to sound critical of her or that comment. At that same time, I felt a rush of uncomfortable, upset feelings when she said that. I was surprised and I didn't really understand why I was feeling that way. I felt disturbed by my feelings.

I though "Why isn't Relief Society enough for me?" I felt disappointed in myself, as if I have rejected the gospel by seeking outside friendships and support. I spent several days reflecting on this. I realized that wasn't really true but I continued to wonder why I felt so compelled to associate with non-members.

I reflected again on the wonderful examples of faithful women I have come to know. They have motivated me to do better. I have become spoiled in the gospel. I really haven't had to work very hard and I have become lazier in my old age.

I was still thinking about this a few days ago when a story came forcefully into my mind. It is the story of the Willie and Martin Handcart Companies. They were stranded in the snow on their way to Salt Lake City. The people were dying. Word reached President Brigham Young during General Conference. He immediately stood and said

“I will now give this people the subject and the text for the Elders who may speak to-day and during the conference, it is this, on the 5th day of October, 1856, many of our brethren and sisters are on the plains with hand-carts, and probably many are now 700 miles from this place, and they must be brought here, we must send assistance to them. The text will be, ‘to get them here.’ I want the brethren who may speak to understand that their text is the people on the plains, and the subject matter for this community is to send for them and bring them in before the winter sets in. …

“I shall call upon the Bishops this day, I shall not wait until to-morrow, nor until [the] next day, for 60 good mule teams and 12 or 15 wagons. I do not want to send oxen, I want good horses and mules. They are in this Territory, and we must have them; also 12 tons of flour and 40 good teamsters, … 60 or 65 good spans of mules, or horses, with harness. …

“I will tell you all,” said he, “that your faith, religion, and profession of religion, will never save one soul of you in the celestial kingdom of our God, unless you carry out just such principles as I am now teaching you. Go and bring in those people now on the plains, and attend strictly to those things which we call temporal, or temporal duties, otherwise your faith will be in vain; the preaching you have heard will be in vain to you, and you will sink to hell, unless you attend to the things we tell you” (Deseret News, Oct. 15, 1856, 252). (as quoted by Gordon B. Hinckley, October 2006)

I thought of the circumstances of this event. 700 miles is a long way, even today. It would take time to make preparations and reach those in need. Would it really matter if they had finished the conference? Would it really matter if they waited until the next day? Apparently it would. Every moment was precious to those who were starving and freezing. Their brothers and sisters in Salt Lake were not suffering. They could have continued to live their comfortable lives and left those pioneers to die. It wouldn't make a difference in their lives, would it? President Young did not mince words. Our faith means nothing if we don't exercise it. "Faith without works is dead."(James 2:17)

So, what does this have to do with having non-member friends? Everything! There are many struggling to reach the truth but they are often detained by the many unpredictable challenges of life. They would be here if there was someone to bring them in. They are in need of rescue, maybe even more than those early saints. Who will go out into the cold and dangerous wilderness to find them? It must be us, the faithful members of the church.

In the moment it took for all these thoughts to converge, I heard the words of my friend again. "I have it, I don't need anything else." The powerful response echoed in my mind "They need you."

This isn't the first time I have had the idea that others needed me to be an example and share the blessing of the gospel. I often dismiss this idea as arrogance. Who do I think I am? But I am coming to understand that I have been richly blessed, not because I deserve it, because I am so much better than someone else, but because the Lord has given me a mission and I need to get on with it.

I am still a big chicken. I know I must rely on the Lord to keep from having a panic attack every time I tell someone what church I go to. My hope is that I can get past that and do what the Lord would have me do. I hope that I can go to the rescue of those brothers and sisters in need and bring them safely to the valley.

Birds of a Feather...

I really liked the story near the end of this video. It just goes to show the influence of good friendships!

Do you have friends who encourage you, directly or through their example, that will help you reach your greatest potential? Are you that kind of friend?

Superpowers 101: Iron Sharpening

A few years ago, a friend of mine shared this verse with me: "Iron sharpeneth iron; so a man sharpeneth the countenance of his friend." Proverbs 27:17 I think about that phrase from time to time. It is important to note that this friend is not LDS. She is, however, very devoted to her own religion. Over the past few years I have come to realize that her influence in my life has been powerful. Her perspectives have given me new insights and understanding into my own religion. Her devotion has left me feeling ashamed of  my own spiritual laziness. She isn't the only friend who has done this for me.

When I look back at some of the turning points in my testimony growth, I see several members of other faiths. Why? Why are non-LDS playing such a pivotal role in my spiritual growth?

For one thing, Latter-Day Saints don't corner the market on testimony. I have been really humbled to realize how strongly devoted many other Christians are despite their "limited knowledge and understanding". And they are richly blessed for it! No wonder they find Mormons arrogant and insulting when we try to tell them they are wrong!

Superpowers 201: Speaking Kid

Apparently I do not speak the same language as the rest of my family. I have ample evidence of this. I first noticed that something wasn't right when my kids started translating for me. I would say "Put that away, please." and one of my other children would turn the person I had just spoken to and say "Mommy wants you to put that away." They do this immediately. Not a few minutes later, not after the child had walked off, and certainly not after being asked by me to carry out this message.


As I started noticing this phenomenon I tried to stop it. I now find myself saying "Why did you do that? Did I ask you to say that? Do you have some kind of authority in this family? Did I not speak clearly the first time?" Each time I am regarded with expressions of shock and confusion, as if they don't understand what I am talking about. Occasionally I will get a response along the lines of "But he wasn't listening." or "I was just trying to help." I find this completely baffling.

Another evidence that I speak another language is that my children often respond to comments or instructions that are not directed at them. Even if I say the name of the child I am addressing every child in the room will launch into immediate protests about how they didn’t' know they were supposed to do such-and-such or they are innocent of the specified crime. I am most shocked when my 11 year old responds to comments addressed to my 18 month old. "I didn't throw my food on the floor!" "Why do you want to change my diaper?" or even "I just had a bath why do you want me to take another one?" Sometimes I think he is he joking but very often he is quite serious. I suspect he believes that since he is the oldest child, everything I say is directed at him, some subconscious claim that I am his mother and the other children are just visiting.

The most upsetting evidence that I do not speak "kid" is the fact that they simply do not listen. Oh sure, they listen when I get their attention or when I am speaking to them casually. But when I start telling them things to do or not do, they seem to glaze over. I have experimented with tone of voice, I have simplified my vocabulary, I have tried different volumes and even body language but to no avail. I will say "didn't I just tell you...." and they will frown and say "You said something but...." shrugs. Sheepish grins. contemplative squinting. So I try again. Very slowly and plainly. "Put your clothes in the drawers." Sometimes this gets action but sometimes I get a confused, straining look, as if they are struggling to understand my words.

This reminds me very much of the experiences I had in Belgium, trying to find the right words in a French /English dictionary to tell the mailman that we didn't know the Schumakers or apologize to the neighbor for scaring his sheep.

And so with a daily multitude of these kinds of moments, I have generally come to accept the fact that I am talking to hear my own voice and that nothing I say matters in the slightest. With this mindset, a kind of low expectations=fewer disappointments philosophy, I have been shocked to learn that my children are turning into decent people. I mean, I never expected they would become criminals or divas but I wasn’t sure what to expect. I had kind of given up the idea that I was molding them into something specific and accepted that the potter’s wheel was turning at break-neck speeds and all I could do was keep the clay from spinning off.

I am not completely surprised. It isn’t that they are bad kids. I am just surprised that some of what I say gets through. I could give lots of examples, like when my 8 year old son helped me fold a load of laundry without being asked or when any one of them comes to me and says “I had a bad dream but I prayed like you told me to and I wasn’t scared anymore.” But I want to share something that happened just recently.

My 8 year old daughter was baptized in January. Since then she has been determined to bear her testimony every Fast and Testimony Meeting. She said “I was baptized, that means I have a testimony and I have to share it.” She is shy and nervous but she valiantly marches up to the stand and says her 2 or 3 sentence testimony. She is getting more confident, which brings me to the real story.

She has been struggling in school, mostly with reading. Her teacher recommended that she attend a summer literacy camp where she got intense reading help for 2 hours a day. It was a pain in the behind. It was from 10-12 every day. I had to drag all the kids back and forth each day. We couldn’t really do anything in the mornings because there wasn’t enough time any way you sliced it. And she didn’t seem to make much progress. I was feeling like it was a real waste of time.

One day, out of the blue, she came home and announced that her teacher needed to come to church with us. Apparently she had brought her daughters to school one day, dressed in tank tops. My daughter said she knew right away that they didn’t go to our church because they were not modest. Then she said that they really needed to come and she wanted to tell her teacher about the church. We discussed it for a few minutes, her enthusiasm bubbling over. I suggested that she take a Book of Mormon to her teacher. She jumped on the idea, wrapping it in pretty wrapping paper and writing her teacher’s name on the tag.

I was so nervous for her. I prayed that it would go well. I was so worried that her little, tender testimony would be crushed.

It wasn’t. It turned out that her teacher had grown up with a close friend who was a member. She had attended many church activities as a youth and spoke very fondly of those experiences.

I told my daughter how proud I was of her. She frowned at me and said “Why? I didn’t do anything big or special. I just gave her a Book of Mormon. That’s a little thing. What’s so great about that?” I explained that many adults don’t even do that. “I don’t know why.” She said “It’s not like it’s hard.”

Well, I was beyond words I was so proud of her! It wasn’t the kind of proud like I had done something great. It was a kind of awe that she was going down the right path. And a little celebrating because that meant I hadn’t completely screwed her up!

So, although the kids still translate for each other and we still have those “Belgian moments” where I don’t seem to be getting through, I guess they are the exceptions. It seems that the language barriers come up during the mundane, everyday talking and not the important stuff. This gives me hope. Even if they are staring off into space or playing with legos while I try and explain why they need to pray or the importance of being kind I guess I will just keep talking!

The Shepherdess

By Alice Meynell

She walks-the lady of my delight-

A shepherdess of sheep.

Her flocks are thoughts. She keeps them white;

She keeps them from the steep;

She feeds them on the fragrant height,

And folds them in for sleep.

She roams maternal hills and bright,

Dark valleys safe and deep.

Into that tender breast at night

The chastest stars may peep.

She walks-the lady of my delight-

A shepherdess of sheep.

She holds her little thoughts in sight,

Though gay they run and leap.

She is so circumspect and right;

She has her soul to keep.

She walks-the lady of my delight-

A shepherdess of sheep.

Superpowers 101: Smelling Good

I attended a MOPS meeting yesterday on Post. The speaker was a Chaplin's wife whose children are adults now. She talked about the importance of leaving a legacy for future generations. She said our legacy is like a scent. It can be sweet like perfume or stinky like garbage. Then she asked the question; what smell will you leave behind?

I thought this was a wonderful metaphor! They say smells can invoke the strongest memories. It's true. When I was 5 years old my family visited Yellowstone National Park. 30 years later I still think of that trip when I smell a strong eggy smell. (Because of the sulfur there).

We take our sense of smell for granted. I know because I have terrible allergies that cause swelling in my nasal passages. I will go weeks without smelling much of anything. This can be a good thing. I don't smell dirty diapers or garbage. Then again I don't smell dirty diapers or garbage. I also don't smell flowers or strawberries or fresh-baked bread.

When the swelling subsides and I can suddenly smell again, I feel a bit overwhelmed. A side effect of this is that I don't have much sense of taste either. I remember in college adding cayenne pepper to some noodles I was eating. They were red with the spice. My roommate walked into the room and was so assaulted by the strong smell that her eyes started to water. I couldn't even taste it!

I thought of all of this as I listened to the speaker yesterday. Are there times when we are in the presence of people who "smell" good or bad and don't realize it? Is our ability to be influenced by them dulled by worldly distractions?

What about our own efforts to affect the world? Are we trying hard to leave a lasting legacy in a world that is incapable of noticing?

What about artificial smells? There is a huge industry of scented candles, air fresheners, fabric fresheners, scented lotions, soaps, detergents, deodorants, etc. What effect do these fake scents have on us? Do we try to create artificial "scents" in our lives, too? Do we go through the motions and put on an act to cover up the "bad smell" we are creating? Will those fake scents wear off and reveal the true smell someday?

I really appreciated this idea and all the thoughts it inspired. I know there are tiems when I try to ignore problems or put them aside becasue I am not willing or able to deal with them. I also know that only a true cleansing throught repentance can erase the smells left from misdeeds. I kow the Lord will bless our efforts to create a legacy full of sweet smells and happy memories.

Superwoman VS Dullness

I recently read an article criticizing the the new "I'm a Mormon" videos as being unrealistic. The article explained that most Mormons are not that interesting.

"Sadly, as a whole we are far less interesting than what the ads have masterfully conveyed. Generally speaking, we are collectively a boring people. We might try to mix it up — sometimes serving ethnic fare at our ward dinners or altering the tempo of a hymn, but for the most part, as a group, we are steadfast, obedient, charitable, fertile and a bit dull." (http://www.ldsliving.com/redirect/story/64167-life-portrayed-in-mormon-ads-not-consistent-with-reality)

My response: Speak for yourself! Maybe Mormons in Utah have a kind of  cookie-cutter quality. There might be a bit of the can't-see-the-forest-for-the-trees effect. But there are just under 2 million members in Utah, less than 1/7 of the world's LDS population.

I have lived in 3 countries and know Latter-Day Saints from many others. I have lived in several states and have probably known at least one person from every state...except possibly Rhode Island. I have even lived in Utah, in the community among the normal, non-BYU student population. I have to say that I have yet to meet a dull Mormon.

Maybe that is just my personality. Maybe I just see interesting because I am looking for it. Maybe I have a simpler way of deciding what is interesting and what isn't. Maybe I am easily entertained.

I don't think so. When I first read the aforementioned article, I started thinking of the interesting people I have met. It was like an instant slide show as faces and memories flashed through my mind. I thought "What an idiot. Doesn't his person have anything better to gripe about?"

I thought of the many members I have known who could be described as "characters"; the man with the eyeball tattoo on the back of his head, the woman who wore a Dolly Parton style wig and earrings that brushed her shoulders, the musicians, the artists, the recovering alcoholics, the veterans, the monotone speakers, the tone-deaf singers, the criers, the laughers, the bikers, the snobs and the nerds, the jocks and the scholars. The diversity among the LDS people is vast. We are not dull! Not by any stretch of the imagination!

To me, the point of the "I'm a Mormon" videos is to show our diversity. They show that Mormons come from all walks of life. We experience every challenge and joy in life. Converts need not be ashamed of their quirks. The sacrifices of discipleship need not include our interests and talents.

I challenge anyone who agrees with the sentiments of that article to try making their own "I'm a Mormon" video, just for fun. What would you tell people about yourself? What makes you interesting?

If you can't think of anything then maybe you have some work to do; not on becoming more interesting but on seeing yourself differently. I can tell you right now you ARE interesting. There is no one in the world like you!

Power-ups

"Do without be—hypocrisy—portrays a false image to others, while be without do portrays a false image to oneself." ~ Lynn G. Robbins

Superwoman VS. Mormon Snobbery

Are you a Mormon Snob?

No! Of course not! How dare you suggest such a thing!

Really?

Ask yourself these questions and give really, honest, true answers. (If you aren't a Mormon, just replace "Mormon" with whatever you are.)

Superwoman Origins: Part 2, Primary

I am in the Primary Presidency of my ward. This is really the first time I have had a Primary calling for more than a few months. It has been an adjustment. I was accustomed to teaching adults. Teaching kids, especially with such a wide range of ages can be..., well, daunting.

I feel more comfortable with it now. I still have moments of frustration. Maybe the kids are wound up and not paying attention or I plan something to go one way and it goes another. Or maybe we are all distracted by my baby who decided to skip his morning nap and eat the table leg.

I have actually gotten a lot from this calling. I have gotten to know the children of the ward. They are amazing. I hear their sweet, simple testimonies, see their bright, smiling faces, and realize that the world is not quite as bad as I might think. I look out at them each week and think "What will they do? Who will they become? I hope I don't screw them up!"

This kind of thinking inevitably leads me to reflect on my own Primary experience. I know that, in part, I owe my Primary teachers and leaders a big thank you. They helped make me into the person I am today. They gave of their time and talents to help plant my feet firmly on the right path, placing my hand on the iron rod. I know they loved me. I think that is the most important factor.

I can remember singing "My Heavenly Father Loves Me".  I don't know how old I was, but I remember our music leader suggesting that we imagine what each part of the song meant. The second verse says "He gave me my ears that I might hear the magical sound of things." When it came to that part, I made a motion with my hand, like something was exploding in a magical way. I happened to look at the music leader. Our eyes met and she smiled. At the time, I was really embarrassed. I didn't realize anyone was paying attention to me. But I still remember that moment. And it still gives me a warm, happy feeling inside.

When I was 4, our class was called "Star". My teacher gave me a little silver star pin as a Christmas present.  I treasured it. It seemed like the most precious gift anyone had ever given me... in my whole 4 years of life! But I still have it. I still think of that star every time I see that sister who was my teacher.

My brother had a wonderful teacher. She was our Great Aunt Ruth. She made all kinds of little crafty things to give out to her class. One that I especially liked was a little ice cream float made from a tiny cup, short piece of a stirring stick and a pompom. She also sent him birthday cards, even when he wasn't in her class anymore. I was very jealous as a child. Now I think of her love for her Primary class as a wonderful example.

Another teacher who made a big impact on my life was my Merry Miss teacher. (That was what the 10-11 year old class was called in the old days). She was a caterer. She took us to her house and let us prepare a meal for a Father/Daughter dinner in her fancy, industrial kitchen. She also taught me how to cross stitch. More than anything, she made me feel part of the group. We were new to the ward and I was reaching that awkward stage of life. It meant a lot to know someone would notice if I wasn't there.

Since I am in the Presidency in my ward, I have thought about what other presidents have done. I especially remember being challenged to memorize all of the Articles of Faith before I turned 12. I remember many Primary activities through the years that were fun and uplifting. I really appreciate all the time and effort those women up into making those activities wonderful.

Overall, I never remember feeling any sense of rush or disorder, no panic over absent teachers, no pressure to get the songs right for the Sacrament meeting program. Primary was a wonderful place where I was loved, where I did fun things and sang beautiful songs. I cringe at the pressure I feel to give that to the kids in our ward. Can I do it? Yes. Will I do it?

As a mother of Primary kids I have learned a crucial lesson about Primary. It is not a nursery or a daycare while the grown-ups do the important learning. It is the Lord's trainig ground. Primary is the place where the testimoniesof the future leaders of the church are nutured. One of the kids in Primary right now, somewhere in the world, will grow up to be an Apostle or a General Relief Society President. Many will grow up to be Stake Presidents, Bishops, Young Women Presidents, and even Primary Presidents. Most will become parents. Do you think the Lord will let them be taught by just anyone?

I know that each person who serves in the Primary is held in high regard by the Lord. He is not just sticking them somewhere until a more important job opens up. This IS the more important job!

When Lights Go Out

When I was in college, I had a friend who was a bit of pyromaniac. She came over one night and, somehow, we ended up with a table full of lit candles. My friend was playing with the little flames and occasionally put one out. Each time, I was surprised by how much darker the room was when one of those little lights went out. Relighting a candle didn't seem to be nearly as noticeable as loosing the light when it went out.

2010 has turned out to be a year of loss. We have lost more than one friend this year to untimely deaths. Each one has been a shock. But the most significant loss we have experienced this year has been the passing of my mother-in-law, Beverly Marshall.

She was diagnosed with cancer in May and died in October. All who knew her have experienced a mixture of relief that she is no longer suffering and deep sadness that she is gone.

During her funeral, I took my little ones into the hall because they were getting restless. I spoke with my 4 year old son about what was happening. He seemed to have lots of questions and was even a little confused...or so I thought.

I asked him if he understood what had happened to Grandma.
He said, "Yes. She died."
"Do you know what that means?" I asked him.
"Yes." he said sadly then added "It means her light's not on anymore."

I was doing pretty good until that moment. Then I started crying. I was so moved by how simply he had explained it. I have thought of that moment often since then. It is such a beautiful way of explaining death. As I think of each of the people that have passed on this year, I am touched by how each of them exemplified the counsel to "let your light so shine before men that they may see your good works and glorify your Father which is in Heaven."

One was an example of home teaching at its best. He was a single father with teenage daughters when we moved to Belgium. My husband was gone to a 4-month school in the states and we had a huge yard that needed tending. Brother Gonzalez came over several times with the missionaries to cut the grass and trim the hedges. His daughters helped with housework and played with the kids. I was so grateful for his willingness to serve our family during a stressful and frustrating time. His service reminds me that even when we think we are alone, our Heavenly Father is always there and will send just the right person to take care of His children.

Another example was a man I have known my whole life. I don't have a single memory of him where is was not smiling and joking, trying to make others happy. He was the embodiment of cheerfulness. He, too, succumbed to cancer, but his battle was long and taxing. Yet even during his long illness, he attended church, fulfilled his Priesthood duties, and was an example to all who knew him of faithfulness and discipleship. 

Another is the little girl from our ward I wrote about previously. When I think of her, I think of those first few times I taught sharing time in Primary. I would look out at the sea of children; talking, looking at their feet, ignoring me... and there would be this happy, smiling face, watching me. She was always eager to answer a question and gave me a little reassurance that I wasn't talking to the clock on the back wall. So simple, yet so meaningful.

This brings me back to my mother-in-law. She was a quiet lady, never pushing or judging. She reached out in many ways. She shared several storied with me about simple things she had done that change lives. Smiling to a girl in the hall in high school, offering a seat to a young mother in Relief Society, welcoming a young woman into their home and into their family. Each of these examples are glimpses into the light she shared with others.

There is one story that has really stuck with me. Years ago, she and her husband were going to the temple in Washington DC. During the drive, they discussed an acquaintance who was having surgery. Beverly decided to put his name on the prayer roll in the temple.

When they arrived, she went to put the man's name on the prayer roll. She couldn't remember what his name was. All she could think about was Steve McQueen, the actor. She kept picturing a scene from one of his movies. After a moment, she gave up trying to remember the man's name and went about her day.

The next day, Steve McQueen died. (That was 30 years ago this week, by the way.)

This story was such an eye-opener for me. We hear phrases like "We are all God's children" or "God loves everyone". Until I heard this story, I thought I understood that. But I didn't really apply that understanding to celebrities or politicians or historical figures. I realized that I had a kind of arrogance like "I am child of God but I don't know who you people are."

Since then, I have tried harder to see EVERYONE as a child of God. It isn't as easy as you might think. Seeing a person from God's perspective can be kind of painful sometimes. Imagine how disappointed he must be in some of us. How his heart breaks at the wickedness and violence he sees us committing.

I have always loved the passage in Moses 7 where Enoch has been shown the creations of God and the destruction of the wicked.

28 And it came to pass that the God of heaven looked upon the residue of the people, and he wept; and Enoch bore record of it, saying: How is it that the heavens weep, and shed forth their tears as the rain upon the mountains?


29 And Enoch said unto the Lord: How is it that thou canst weep, seeing thou art holy, and from all eternity to all eternity?...

32 The Lord said unto Enoch: Behold these thy brethren; they are the workmanship of mine own hands, and I gave unto them their knowledge, in the day I created them; and in the Garden of Eden, gave I unto man his agency;

33 And unto thy brethren have I said, and also given commandment, that they should love one another, and that they should choose me, their Father; but behold, they are without affection, and they hate their own blood;

I feel like I can understand this better, now that I am a parent. How can God weep? His children are fighting and ignoring one another and acting like spoiled idiots.

And what should we be doing instead? "Mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places" (Mosiah 18:9)
 
I don't know if I have really caught the vision yet. I think I just get little glimpses from time to time. Hopefully, someday, I will be able to align my life more perfectly with the things I have learned. In the meantime, I am grateful for all the lights that shine around me. Because of their examples, I do, indeed, want to glorify my Father in Heaven.

Superwoman VS Stereotyping: Teenage Boys

Our Stake had a dinner prior to the recent Relief Society General Meeting. I had planned for my husband to stay home with our children but due to unforeseen circumstances, I had to bring them along. The local leaders had arranged for a few men and some teenage boys to help with the child care. They cheerful took my 7 children into the designated room and I left to enjoy a quiet dinner and some rare adult conversation.

I had taken about 3 bites when our ward Relief Society President came and said my 4 year old son had had a little bathroom accident and needed me. I just happened to have a change of clothes for him in the car. I retrieved them and went to get him cleaned and changed.

It was not a simple wetting accident, to put it delicately. But I was pleasantly stunned to find that 2 of the young men were already cleaning the bathroom when I arrived. Apparently, my son had tried to clean himself up and they found him half-naked in the bathroom. One of the young men was mopping and had already cleaned my son's shoes. Another came in with a new garbage bag to replace the one containing...smelly paper towels. They set to work with spray bottles of disinfectant and paper towels, wiping down the dirty surfaces.

I took my son to the ladies' room for a private and more thorough cleaning. When we passed the men's room a few minutes later, they were still cleaning. I didn't hear any joking or laughing, no complaining or comments about how gross it was or the smell.

Now, I am sure this mess was not unlike the kind I have cleaned at home on occasion. It seemed to be fairly localized and was almost cleaned up when I saw it. What impressed me was the maturity of the young men who were dealing with it. Granted, they are both what you might call "sober" youth; quiet, responsible, good-natured. So this episode was not out of character for them. But I couldn't help thinking how their peers might have handled it. No doubt many would have left the whole thing for me to deal with. Others would have cleaned up only if asked, compensated, or threatened. Few teenagers would have done this kind of job without complaining.

I couldn't help thinking about this difference. I have thought often in recent weeks about the ever-widening divide between the righteous and the wicked. There is no doubt in my mind that the righteous of the earth stand out and will stand out more and more in coming years. The decency and morality are as foreign today as pornography and recreational drugs were 200 years ago. The world seems to have turned upside down. (No, I wasn't alive 200 years ago to actually know this from experience!)

I am so grateful for good kids like the teenagers I have described. I am grateful for their wonderful example to my kids. A few weeks ago, our family was talking about the Stripling Warriors and what those young men must have been like. I said that they had great faith and were obedient. My 9 year old daughter mentioned one of the young men from the bathroom incident. "I bet they were like him. He has a lot of faith." I was almost in tears. Not just because she had noticed him but because there was someone like that for my kids to notice.

There are lots of other amazing examples of good teenagers. That isn't a general statement. There is the 13 year old who is our hometeacher. He cheerfully helped us put in our garden, getting covered in mud and clay. And his sister who has been a wonderful babysitter for us. More than one young woman from our ward has moved to sit with restless children when their mother takes a crying baby out of Sacrement meeting. (We live in a military ward, you know, so the fathers are often deployed or otherwise occupied with their jobs on Sunday).

I can't forget the examples in our own family. My kids have cousins on missions and uncles who have recently returned. My neice went with us to the temple this summer and spent the whole time taking care of our then 5 1/2 month old baby. Our older neices and nephews seemed eager to entertain their younger cousins while we grown-ups spent time together.

Each of these moments of small quiet service have provided me with one great big giant reaction. HOPE! Hope for the future. Hope that the world is not entirely going down the toilet. Hope that the next generation really is better, stronger, more capable, more willing and able to prepare the world for the Second Coming of our Lord. Yes, there will be wickedness and destruction and many terrible things in the future. But the Lord is truly doing "a marvelous work and a wonder" in these Last Days.

Now, when I see some ego-sentric, amoral, bratzilla of a teenager on TV, I can tell my kids with complete confidence that they do not, under any circumstance, have permisison to be like that when they get older. Teenagers don't HAVE to be obnoxious, rude, rebellious, defiant, ignorant, tough, cynical, angry, sexy, or threatening. And I have proof!

Superwoman Origins: Part 1

I have been thinking a lot about the people who have been examples to me, who made me who I am today. This line of thought was prompted by a book I recently read. It was called Down A Sunny Dirt Road By Stan and Jan Berenstain. It is an autobiography, mostly about how they became artists. I found it very interesting. I like learning about people.

The last few chapters of the book discuss the children's books they have published featuring their famous Berenstain Bears. I realized that I had grown up reading many of their books. Go To School was one of my favorites. I loved the details of their drawings. Another that I read over and over was Go To The Dentist. I read many Berenstain Bear books as a child and still enjoy reading them with my children.

I was touched by how this couple has influenced so many children. Their books are so simple and sweet. They teach simple answers to basic problems in life. I have always appreciated them for their life lessons.

But as I read the autobiography I was struck by an new realization. I want to be like Mama Bear. I always have. She has been an example of effective motherhood my entire life. Her gentleness and wisdom have always appealed to me. I can even remember thinking "I want to be like that when I grow up" as I read of her serving snacks to her kids and planning fun activities for them. I am sure that my zeal for labeled boxes of toys in the children's rooms comes directly from The Messy Room.

I found myself feeling a sense of reverence and gratitude for the Berenstains. I don't think they set out to create a series of books that would teach children how to be parents. But I do believe they worked very hard to create books that would be true and good. Isn't it amazing what happens when we have a righteous goal?

So, I just want to say thank you to the Berenstains. Thank you for following your passions and sticking to your standards. Thank you for being so willing to create so much optimism in a cynical world. Thank you for giving me such a wonderful example of motherhood! Thank you for helping me be the person I am today.

Superwoman's Kryptonite

Every hero has a weakness. In mythology they call it a "fatal flaw". I had a college professor who called it a "favorite sin". Whatever you call it, it is the thing that keeps you from achieving your truest potential or greatest goal. For me, it is TV.


I guess I should let you know right away that when I say TV I mean movies, too. In fact, I actually LOVE movies. They are full of artistic images and creativity, not to mention insight and symbolism. I could talk about movies all day. To me, they are called "movies" because they "move" us in so many ways. Okay, so not every movie falls into this category. But there are so many that are just...amazing.


TV, on the other hand, is like a drug. I watch TV for reasons I don't understand. I enjoy certain shows, especially documentary type shows ( including some reality shows), because they are interesting, entertaining and possibly even educational. I justify watching these programs for the beneficial qualities they possess, however small they may be. I realize that this is sometimes like justifying cookies for breakfast because they have eggs in them. Still, whatever small good they have is enough of an excuse to keep a tight grip on my TV watching.


If that was the only TV I watched, I might not see it as a weakness. The problem comes in the mindless TV watching that happens much too often. My husband will come in the room and say "what are you watching and I say "I don't know, it just came on and I kept watching." This is a problem.


I have been trying to curb this obsession in recent weeks. Spring is a great time for me to break the TV habit. There is so much to do. The sun is shining and birds are singing, flowers are blooming. The air is refreshing. Plus, TV shows are going into rerun season.


What makes this habit even more troubling is the effect it has on my children. I can remember my oldest son walking into the living room one morning and asking "What is wrong with the TV? Why isn't it on?" He was about 3 years old a the time. He couldn't understand why on earth I would want to leave it off for even a moment!


It is frustrating to us, as parents that when the TV is on, the kids HAVE to watch it. If they are walking through and a commercial is on, they have to stop and watch it. Even if they have seen it before and even if it is for shampoo or heart medication.


As the children have gotten older I have seen the need to be more diligent about the content of what we watch. I am frustrated that I can't just leave it on while I do housework. Now that we live in the US and have commercials again I have to be careful about what they are selling. I hate that in the middle of Star Wars is a commercial for erectile dysfunction medication or a TV show I don't want my kids to watch.


In my defense, there have been plenty of times when the TV was my companion. If my husband was gone because of his job, the TV provided a sense of adult conversation. It made the house feel a little less empty. It distracted me from my loneliness. I think this is why a lot of people watch TV.


Elder David A. Bednar gave a talk that, to my mind, is the most important talk by a Church leader in recent memory. It is called "Things As They Really Are". He speaks of the dangers of the Internet, specifically roll-playing games and virtual worlds. But the more I think of his warning the more I realize how much TV can be just as destructive. It isn't just the content, it is replacing real relationships with imaginary ones.


Does that sound crazy? I hope it does to you. I hope that you have never known anyone who talked about Soap Opera characters as if they were real people. I hope that when a morning news show host leaves, you don't feel like you just lost your best friend. I hope that you have never felt desperate to see what will happen next to your beloved characters on your favorite drama. I hope you don't talk about Oprah as if the two of you have regular chats.


The truth is, TV is safe. It is always there, accepting your attention, giving you entertainment and insight, suggesting things that might interest you, soothing your pains by lulling you into a stupor and letting you forget your troubles for a while...or forever.


And that is the real danger. That neglecting of the real and valuablele for the artificial and unimportant. Does that mean TV is bad? Not inherently. Just as "guns don't kill people, people do" TV doesn't hurt you, misusing it does.


So, what is the antidote to this alien poison? Superman was only susceptible to Kryoptonite when he came in contact with it. And he was able to renew himself by exposure to the Earth's yellow sun. So too does TV only have power over us when we are near it. Let's turn it off, cancel cable, get rid of our satellites, open some windows and go outside! Let the sun renew us with it's warmth and Vitamin-D-stimulating powers! Get to know your neighbors and friends again! Or better yet, meet your family! Nothing but good can happen from breaking free from the vice-like grips of this "one-eyed monster".

And I promise to do all of that...as soon as this show is over.

"What have you done with my name?"

This weekend we gave our new baby a name and a blessing. As I thought about the significance of this priesthood ordinance, I thought of the importance of names. Growing up, my parents taught me that a person's name is sacred. As I got older, I learned that when we gossip or lie about a person, we are damaging their "good name". I also remembered a story I heard as a young girl that made a deep impact on me.

President George Albert Smith told the story of a time when he was seriously ill and had traveled to St. George, Utah, to see if it would improve his health. He became so weak that he could scarcely move. In his account he recalled: “One day, under these conditions, I lost consciousness of my surroundings and thought I had passed to the Other Side. ... I saw a man coming towards me. I became aware that he was a very large man, and I hurried my steps to reach him, because I recognized him as my grandfather. … I remember how happy I was to see him coming. I had been given his name and had always been proud of it.

“When Grandfather came within a few feet of me, he stopped. His stopping was an invitation for me to stop. Then—and this I would like the boys and girls and young people never to forget—he looked at me very earnestly and said:

“ ‘I would like to know what you have done with my name.’

“Everything I had ever done passed before me as though it were a flying picture on a screen—everything I had done. Quickly this vivid retrospect came down to the very time I was standing there. My whole life had passed before me. I smiled and looked at my grandfather and said:

‘I have never done anything with your name of which you need be ashamed.’

“He stepped forward and took me in his arms, and as he did so, I became conscious again of my earthly surroundings. My pillow was wet as though water had been poured on it—wet with tears of gratitude that I could answer unashamed.”

President Smith continued to say, “I have thought of this many times, and I want to tell you that I have been trying, more than ever since that time, to take care of that name. So I want to say to the boys and girls, to the young men and women, to the youth of the Church and of all the world: Honor your fathers and mothers. Honor the names that you bear, because some day you will have the privilege and the obligation of reporting to them (and to your Father in heaven) what you have done with their name.” (George Albert Smith, Sharing the Gospel with Others, Deseret Book Co., 1948, pp. 111–12.)(O. Leslie Stone, “The Importance of Reputation,” New Era, Feb 1978, 41)

The statement that we will have to account for what we have done with the names we bear, including the name of our Father in heaven, has gone a long way to keeping me in check. At times, it may seem that it doesn't matter what we do. Maybe we live far from home. No one knows who we are. They don't know our family. Does it really matter if we soil that name a little from time to time?

When I was a Senior in high school, I learned the answer to that question. I found myself in a "Bible bash" with some girls in my chorus class. What had started innocently enough with a few simple questions had turned into "let's gang up on the heathen Mormon and see if we can save her". After 3 days, I knew it had to stop. All we were doing was arguing. We weren't going to change any one's mind. I prayed for a way out of the mess I had gotten myself into.

The next day, as class started, the leader of the "opposition" came up to me, a list of scripture verses in her hand, ready to prove my beliefs wrong. I felt my stomach tighten and silently prayed for a way out. The girl waved the list in my face and said, "I talked to my daddy last night and he gave me list of scriptures to use as ammunition against you." The other girls clustered behind her, reminding me of a pack of wolves ready to pounce on their cornered prey.

The ring leader sat down next to me and said "Before we get started I have to ask you a question. Do you know Harlie Wilson?" This was probably the most unexpected thing she could have asked me at that moment. I had no idea where she was going with it so I just answered truthfully, "Yes."

"How do you know him?" She asked. I felt like I was on trial as she stared hard at me. "He is my uncle. My grandpa's brother." She relaxed and sighed deeply. "I was afraid of that." she said regretfully. Then she folded up her paper and put it away. The "pack of wolves" looked even more startled than I felt at that moment and asked what was going on.

The girl thought a moment and said, "I told my dad all about you and he said I should ask if you were related to Harlie Wilson. He said your uncle used to cut his hair when he was a little boy and that he was the best man he had ever met. He told me that if you were related to him I should leave you alone. I still think I can prove your church is wrong and I really want to. But I have never heard my dad talk about someone with that much respect. My dad is the best man I have ever met and if he says to leave you alone that is what I am going to do."

And that was it. We never argued or even mentioned religion again. This whole episode nearly overwhelmed me with "coincidences". I was deeply grateful for the wonderful example of my great-uncle*. I, like President Smith, had reflected on my behavior and was relieved to know that I was worthy of being associated with my family. My classmate and her father were also people of integrity who recognized the good in others and were willing to set aside their personal differences.

The most important lesson I learned was that you never know who is watching. My uncle didn't know that a little boy sitting in his barber chair was paying attention to what kind of man was holding the scissors.






*This is the only link I could find.

Gifts: Part 1

Christmas. The Season of Giving. The time of year when people should be thinking of love and peace and the Savior. The time of year when we are ACTUALLY running around like crazy, greedy, insane people trying to buy the "perfect gift" for every person on our much too long shopping list. Not to mention the cooking and parties and decorations and everything else that makes this holiday a contradiction.

When I was a child I LOVED Christmas. There was a wonderful feeling in the air. There was excitement and happiness, family togetherness, service projects, flexing my creative muscles, beautiful music. I could go on and on. For some reason the past several years have been lacking in these warm and happy feelings. One reason is the chaos I have already described. Somehow, no matter what I do, I find myself too exhausted and stressed to enjoy the holiday. I know I am not the only one.

I have been blaming this stress on a number of issues but I will tell you about one; gift-giving. There have been times when finding the perfect gift, carefully wrapping it, eagerly waiting for the recipient to open it, the thrill of seeing that expression of happiness, was as exciting and fulfilling for me as anything else I do. I took great pleasure from choosing something special for family and friends. It made me happy to make them happy. What happened?

One downer I have already talked about, ingratitude. My efforts sometimes seemed wasted as I accepted a hurried "thanks' and was shoved aside to make way for something else. I know I have done the same thing to others. I have even regretted not taking just a moment to be more genuine in my thanks, not appreciating the gift in the moment but later, after the dust settled.

Years ago I read a book called "All I Really Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten". It is a collection of essays by Robert Fulghum. One was about how he had completely overlooked all the Christmas cards he had received and ended up reading them in July. He talked about how he had been too rushed and busy to share in his friends lives and accept their love for him and his family. At the time , I thought it was ridiculous. How could someone be so busy with things that don't really matter in the long run?

Twenty years later, I was in his shoes, wondering why no one told be about a new baby or surgery or moving to a new home. I realized that all that information had been in the cards I had quickly read and put out of my mind. It wasn't that no one told me. I wasn't listening.

"How could this happen to me?" I asked over and over. "I should know better." I realized that a lot of the stress was self imposed. I was the one stressing over presents. I was the one trying to hurry and get things shipped before the deadline. I was the one making enough food to feed an army.

My first taste of how far off course I had gotten was when I was helping the kids with a Christmas list. As their wishes became more elaborate and the list got longer, I felt the weight of it crushing me. I started to lecture them about wanting too much and being selfish. I said emphatically "You are not going to get everything you want, you know." My oldest son said calmly, "I know. That's okay. I didn't get everything I wanted last year either. "

I was startled by his matter-of-fact statement. "What did you want that you didn't get?" I asked, feeling a little bit like a disappointment to my child. "I don't remember what I wanted last year. That's why it's okay. I won't remember what I wanted anyway."

I don't know when I have ever been more proud of my son...or more ashamed of myself. I was the one getting caught up in the hype and commercialism of Christmas. I was the one who had asked them what they wanted in the first place. I had taught my children that Christmas was about Santa and presents and cookies and pies. I had been the one to neglect the true meaning and spirit of the season.

I have not yet found my balance when it comes to Christmas. My husband and I talk about what we should do differently. So far, we have made minor changes. Every year is another chance for change. We are hoping this year will be different. If nothing else, I want to be different this year. I want to let go of the pressure to create the "perfect Christmas" as the world describes it. I hope that I can create for my family a more genuine Christmas experience.

Superpowers 101: Magnifying Your Calling

My kids have discovered magnifying glasses. They wander through the house and yard looking at everything they pass through this amazing device. I have always liked them myself. You can take a very dull, ordinary object and look at it through a magnifying glass and suddenly it becomes fascinating. Even more amazing are microscopes that seem to make things appear out of nowhere. Of course, that only happens if you make the effort to see it that way.

We had a talk in church today about magnifying our callings. In the LDS church a calling is an assignment to serve in a certain position for an unspecified amount of time. We believe that callings come from God. When we talk about magnifying a calling it usually means doing more than the basics. Let me give you an example.

When I was a teenager, a friend of mine was called to play the piano in Sacrament Meeting (the main church service). She was only 14 and we had a large congregation. She was nervous and a little overwhelmed.

I remember her being very critical of herself, pointing out that she had messed up on the third verse or had not gotten the tempo right in a certain place. Most people didn't notice. She played the hymns. We sang them. That was good enough.

Over the next few years, she studied and practiced and improved her piano skills. Her ability to play the notes and make fewer mistakes improved. Was she magnifying her calling? No, she was just becoming a better pianist.

I don't mean to say that she was not talented or that her musical ability was lacking in some way. I am only pointing out that the ability to do something well does not mean you are "magnifying" that task. You might be thinking, "It is just playing the piano. What else can you do?" I will tell you.

My friend played the piano every Sunday for about 4 years. During that time, she often spoke of how she prepared for Sunday. She said she would read the lyrics and ponder the message of the hymn. She would then pray that she would be able to convey that message through her playing. She said she tried to bear her testimony of that particular subject through her playing.

I can remember being at her house for early-morning seminary (a scripture study class for high school students). Before we left for school she would quickly play though a hymn or even a portion of it, because she wanted to make sure it was right for Sunday. She said she was "playing it for the Lord". Honestly, I thought she was being a showoff. We all knew she was a wonderful pianist and she always lived up to her reputation.

Sundays had became a welcome respite for me during this time. Church was a place for me to see friends who shared my values, learn about the gospel of Jesus Christ, and feel the Spirit. I enjoyed music and sang in my high school chorus for 4 years. Singing the hymns was a wonderful addition to Sunday. I remember feeling the Spirit confirm those simple truths as we sang.

After high school I attended BYU. To say there are a lot of musical people at BYU is like saying there are a lot of Mormons there.  I was exposed to many extremely talented pianists. There was no shortage of young men and women who could sit down at a piano and play whatever was put in front of them. To put it simply, they were technically proficient. Many were skilled at adding emotion and feeling, making the music seem alive. Yet something was different.

I was slightly up off by this at first. Over time I came to realize what was different. It was the preparation. Not the temporal preparation but the spiritual preparation. I realized that I had taken for grated the time and sincerity my friend had put into her calling. She had not simply played a hymn well. She had been playing it with a purpose. She had prepared, not for herself, but to make the music the best she could for those she served, including her Father in Heaven.

Since coming to that realization, I have viewed callings differently. Sometimes they may seem small and of no consequence. That is only because we have not magnified them to see what they could be. Imagine what the world would be like if everyone approached their callings in life the way my friend did. Not to do it the "very best ever". To do it with the attitude that we are serving others and serving the Lord. Shouldn't we be giving Him the best we have to offer? Don't the people we serve deserve to have us do more than "good enough"?

I know you might be thinking that you are not a member of my faith and you don't have a calling. What about your calling as a parent or spouse or child? Are we doing the basics, being technically proficient, or are we seeking spiritual guidance to magnify our callings for the betterment of all?

I don't claim to be consistent at magnifying my callings...any of them. But I know that when I have the attitude of serving God and my fellow beings, I do a better job. I think it is because I don't always know what to do or how to do it. But my Heavenly Father does. If I seek his guidance, he will direct me to doing those things that will mean the most to those around me. It isn't about fitting into a mold or doing something a certain way. It is about doing what is needed, when it is needed, how it is needed. Even a Superwoman doesn't know that.