Showing posts with label service. Show all posts
Showing posts with label service. Show all posts

Monday, March 18, 2013

Give, Oh, Give Away!





 

"Give," Said the Little Stream

 
"Give," said the little stream,
"Give, oh! give, give, oh! give."
"Give," said the little stream,
As it hurried down the hill;
"I'm small, I know, but wherever I go
The fields grow greener still."
Singing, singing all the day,
"Give away, oh! give away."
Singing, singing all the day,
"Give, oh! give away."
 
 
"Give," said the little rain,
"Give, oh! give, give, oh! give."
"Give," said the little rain,
As it fell upon the flow'rs;
"I'll raise their drooping heads again,"
As it fell upon the flow'rs.
 
 
Give, then, as Jesus gives,
Give, oh! give, give, oh! give.
Give, then, as Jesus gives;
There is something all can give.
Do as the streams and blossoms do:
For God and others live.
Words: Fanny J. Crosby, 1820–1915
Music: William B. Bradbury, 1816–1868. Arr.

Monday, February 4, 2013

Locks of Love

A few years ago someone told my daughter Jessica about Locks of Love. They explained that she could grow her hair long, cut it off and send it to this organization so they could make wigs for sick kids.

She loved the idea!

She had super thick hair. It was always a mess. It was easily tangled. No matter how much I brushed it she looked like a walking rag mop after just a few minutes of playing. It wasn't all bad. It held a curl easily and she really was beautiful...if she could keep from moving. Once she tossed her head a few times we were back to the rats nest. She even picked up the nickname Medusa!

She finally decided she was ready to donate her hair.

I could not be more pleased with the results!

The last picture of her long hair BEFORE the cut.

 
 
AFTER!
 
 
 

 
 
 



 
 
 
 

Thursday, January 12, 2012

More Random Thoughts: Easier Said Than Done

I am a little surprised by the response to yesterday's post. I feel I struck a chord. As I read responses both here and on facebook I realized that the church really is the same everywhere...dang it!

The same problems seem to exist in every ward and branch, at least from time to time. There are members who are working themselves to the bone trying to pull others to the Celestial Kingdom kicking and screaming. There are members who complain no matter what you do. There are members who are only there for the refreshments. There are members who are quietly working away, making the world a little brighter as they go.

One day I saw a woman walking along the sidewalk. She stopped and picked something up. As I watched she moved around picking at random spots along the side. I realized she was pulling weeds. After a moment she straightened up, surveyed the area and walked away.

It was a strange sight. She didn't do this at every point. Surely there were weeds all along the path. Why did she clean up that spot?

I have no answer except that it needed to be done and she did it.

That is the way it is with our callings. Sometimes we just do what needs to be done without fanfare and recognition. Whether we fulfilled our calling or not is only between us and the Lord. We are serving him by serving his children.

I often take my callings very personally. I grew up in a small ward that was fairly close. Members often attended meetings and activities because their friend or relative was involved somehow. There was a deep sense of love and support. (That's how I saw it anyway!) As an adult I feel personally slighted when people I count as friends don't attend an activity I planned.

I have especially struggled with my current calling of ward choir director. For a few months I only had one person show up for choir practice. A different person each time but only one! Sometimes there were 2. It was a big deal when we had 4 people consistently. (It was basically the individuals that had been showing up one at a time but now they were all managing to come on the same day!!!!)

It was hard. I mean HARD!!! I felt so rejected. I mean, I know there are some people who just can't sing. I know there are some who have callings that interfere with choir practice. I also know there are people who are very gifted but just don't come. That is what really got to me. I felt like those people who could sing and didn't were sending me a message; WE DON'T LIKE YOU!!!!

I felt so discouraged. I tried to focus on those sweet but few devotees who were so encouraging and so supportive. That might have been enough except a few people came for one practice or a few practices and then stopped. That really felt like rejection!

One day I was folding laundry and feeling really sorry for myself. I was trying so hard to throw one of those pity parties I mentioned a few weeks ago. As I choked back tears thinking how unloved I was in this stupid ward a powerful thought came to my mind. "They have not rejected you, they have rejected me."

What? That's silly. This is just choir. It's not like it's important. It's not like people are becoming apostate or something.

The words came again, this time stronger and accompanied by a peaceful reassurance. "They have not rejected you, they have rejected me."

Okay then. It's not personal. Shake it off and move on. "Forget yourself and go to work." Got it.

Things didn't turn around over night but my attitude changed. I realized that it didn't matter if we had 4 people or 40. What mattered was that we tried. For Christmas we had 15 people sing in the choir and they did a beautiful job!

The point of this is that things don't always go the way we plan. Sometimes we take things too personally. Sometimes we want something the Lord doesn't intend. Sometimes we need to rely more on the Lord and less on Sugardoodle. :)

To those of you who are frustrated by your callings, just do your best. Don't focus on the ones who don't come, focus on the ones who do. Why are they there? Do they have something to give? Do they have a need? Did you serve them as the Lord intended?

I'm not saying forget the others just cut them some slack. And don't be hurt or offended. It likely has nothing to do with you. We all grow at different rates and in different ways. I have learned through expereince that we need to judge less and love more. I am sure that applies to every person in your life.


Charity suffereth long, and is kind;

Charity envieth not;

Charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,

Doth not behave itself unseemly,

Seeketh not her own,

Is not easily provoked,

Thinketh no evil;

Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;

Beareth all things,

Believeth all things,

Hopeth all things,

Endureth all things.

Wherefore... if ye have not charity, ye are nothing,

For charity never faileth.

Wherefore, cleave unto charity, which is the greatest of all,

for all things must fail—

But charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever;

And whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him.











































Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Random Thoughts About Young Women And Relief Society

I grew up as a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I love the church and it's programs. I love the teachings and blessings that obedience brings to my life. I have a testimony.

Don't forget any of that!

This post has some of my thoughts about what's wrong with Young Women and Relief Society. There. I said it. DON'T HATE ME!!!!

As I said, I have a testimony and I believe the programs of the church are inspired. But I have always seen a kind of flaw in the church programs for female members. I realize there are people out there who cry foul at everything that even suggests gender discrimination. I am not one of those people. I have been the beneficiary of many blessings because of Young Women and Relief Society. But I do see room for improvement. Here are my thoughts.

I grew up with 5 brothers. I was always jealous, or at least discouraged, by the constant recognition my brothers received in cub and boy scouts while I got nothing. I mean we both got experience. We both made crafts and sang songs and played games. But the boys had monthly pack meetings with pins and badges. They had day camps and camp outs.

Of course I went to Girl's Camp each year. I earned my Young Womanhood Recognition. I gained a testimony through participating in youth activities. I really did have a wonderful time.

During my teenage years my mom was called as Relief Society President. She taught me to love Relief Society. But as I watched my brothers go Home Teaching I wondered why I wasn't being given the same training as a Visiting Teacher. I still wonder this.

5023116_spanish_yw_pencils_list
Pencils
I have noticed that there are a lot of materials available for Young Women now. They still have medallions and Personal Progress. They have a Theme and symbols and mottos. They have constant reminders of the choices they should make and the values they should embrace. Here are a few of the 243 examples that came up in a simple search at Deseretbook.com

5044780_yw_values_magnet_list
YW Values Magnet

Young_women_bookmark_2_product
Bookmark
Value_product
Values Prints

5020411_lip_balm_yw_values_list
Lip Balm?

5068490_list
Note cards

Young-women-journey-necklac_list
Necklace

Ring_choice_list
Ring

Two_tone_charm_bracelet_list
Charm Bracelet

5067475_yw_value_colors_list
Journal

Then they turn 18 and...nothing.  (76 hits at Deseret Book, most of them novels or manuals!) Oh, sure, Relief Society has a Declaration but I don't know it. We have a seal
Mormon Relief Society Seal
 but we don't talk about it.

Our motto "Charity Never Faileth" is the only thing we really carry around with us. We sing "As Sisters In Zion" ad nauseum because it reminds us of our purpose and we have nothing else to sing.

We don't have necklaces or journals. No bracelets or lip balm to remind us of who we are. After some creative searching I found a couple of rings at CTR Ring Shop. We don't have Relief Society Camp and our activities and conferences can be kind of...stuffy. Don't get me wrong, Relief Society is a haven and an inspiration for me. I have personally grown more than I ever imagined because of Relief Society. But for a young, single woman, fresh out of the "fun and hip" Young Women's program Relief Society is seriously a drag!

It takes a lot of maturity and patience to find your place at the grown-up table. It might come as a crash-course as you are suddenly Visiting Teacher to a mother with screaming kids or a an elderly sister who needs help. That young woman is likely ill-equipped to handle the sudden demand to serve. So she might shirk her duties and go off looking to be filled as she was in Young Women instead of filling up those in real need. If she is determined she will press through the awkward years and sooner or later arrive at the point of belonging among the other women. If she isn't so determined she will very likely walk away and might not return.

This is a serious problem. But what can be done?

I, for one, wish Relief Society were more like Young Women sometimes. I mean, why don't we have pretty jewelry? Why don't we have songbooks and posters? Why don't we embrace our own program as we did when we were young? I have heard many of my peers expressing longing to return to Young Women. They want to be leaders so they can live vicariously through those they lead. 

This always makes me sad. I realize that I am not the only one who feels bored to death in Relief Society from time to time. I realize that I am not the only one who feels something is missing. I also realize that Relief Society is what you make it. Each sister is responsible for making Relief Society great, not only for ourselves but for others.

I have been reading "Daughters In My Kingdom". Reading about the first Relief Society sisters has really inspired me. I see that they knew their purpose and were eager to serve. They were excited! I haven't felt that way in a long time. Why?

I have a theory. I think Young Women is often a passive program. It might not be designed that way but it seems that leaders work hard to inspire and entertain and forget to give the youth practical experience. After a few years they are now the adults. They go to adult classes and expect to be inspired and entertained as they were in Young Women. They (WE) don't always realize that it is time to do, to show what we learned.

Here is an example that I am sure applies to every ward on earth! Several years ago I was serving as what was then the Homemaking counselor in Relief Society. I planned and executed activities. Looking back I know I could have done things differently (like delegating!) but I worked hard and I learned a ton! I often asked sisters why they didn't come to activities. I then tried to plan activities I thought they would enjoy. For example, an activity that had nothing to do with kids or husbands since some sisters had neither. But they didn't come. There were always excuses but I couldn't seem to make the activities any more appealing, no matter what I did.

These were not inactive sisters. These were not those with weak testimonies. So why didn't they come? Some excuses were "I don't need it, I have friends and a strong testimony." Sometimes it was "I have lots of other interests and I don't need relief Society to entertain me and educate me." Each time I thought "Well, that's great but what about the sisters who need you?" It has been a huge disappointment to learn that many people, even in the church, can not seem to think outside themselves. They see only what they need or want and never consider how they might bless others.

Could it be that we adult sisters don't make Relief Society better because we haven't yet caught the vision? Are we hesitant to include new sisters because we don't want to be there either? Don't we know who we are? Don't we understand the Lord's plan for his daughters? Do we know the great plans he has for us in blessing lives and building his kingdom? Don't we know how amazing we really are?

Now, I have been accused of being arrogant for this kind of attitude. Who do I think I am?

I am a beloved spirit daughter of God.
My life has meaning, purpose and direction.
I am part of a worldwide sisterhood, united in my devotion to Jesus Christ, my Savior and Exemplar.
I am a woman of faith, vision, virtue and charity.
I increase my testimony of Jesus Christ through prayer and scripture study.
I seek spiritual strength by following the promptings of the Holy Ghost.
I dedicate myself to strengthening marriages, families, and homes.
I find nobility in motherhood and joy in womanhood.
I delight in service and good works.
I love life and learning.
I stand for truth and righteousness.
I sustain the priesthood as the authority of God on earth.
I rejoice in the blessings of the temple, understand my divine destiny, and strive for exaltation. 


I means more when you say "I" doesn't it? It is easy to make excuses but the truth is we are all aprt of the paln. It isn't just the Releif Society Presidnecy who needs to reach out to other sisters. We are "united in our devotion to Jesus Christ." In serving one another we serve him. Never, NEVER forget that!



Sister Julie B. Beck has some wonderful insights into this subject in this training video for new Relief Society sisters.





Monday, November 14, 2011

Thank Tank, Day 13

I am thankful to be a Latter-Day Saint, surrounded by other saints. Sometimes I get this crazy idea that I am supposed to do everything myself. Since I can't possibly do that I feel very overwhelmed and frustrated. But when I get like that people seem to magically come to my rescue. They sit with my kids while I take the tired and screaming toddler to the hall (where he automatically stops screaming and sits quietly on my lap!)  They help me carry my burdens in so many seemingly small ways. I am reminded once again of Alma 37:6  "by small and simple things are great things brought to pass"

Sunday, October 16, 2011

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?

Sunday, August 28, 2011

The Sin Of Omission

by Margaret Sangster



It isn't the thing you do, dear;

It's the thing you leave undone,

Which gives you a bit of heartache

At the setting of the sun.

The tender word forgotten,

The letter you did not write,

The flower you might have sent, dear,

Are your haunting ghosts to-night.



The stone you might have lifted

Out of brother's way,

The bit of heartsome counsel

You were hurried too much to say;

The loving touch of the hand, dear,

The gentle and winsome tone,

That you had no time nor thought for,

With troubles enough of your own.



The little acts of kindness,

So easily out of mind;

Those chances to be angels

Which every one may find

They come in night and silence

Each chill, reproachful wraith

When hope is faint and flagging

And a blight has dropped on faith.



For life is all too short, dear,

And sorrow is all too great;

To suffer our great compassion

That tarries until too late;

And it's not the thing you do, dear,

It's the thing you leave undone,

Which gives you the bit of heartache

At the setting of the sun.





Thursday, July 21, 2011

The Solitary Reaper
By William Wordsworth

Behold her, single in the field,

Yon solitary Highland Lass!

Reaping and singing by herself;

Stop here, or gently pass!

Alone she cuts and binds the grain,

And sings a melancholy strain;

O listen! for the Vale profound

Is overflowing with the sound.



No Nightingale did ever chaunt

More welcome notes to weary bands

Of travellers in some shady haunt,

Among Arabian sands:

A voice so thrilling ne’er was heard

In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,

Breaking the silence of the seas

Among the farthest Hebrides.



Will no one tell me what she sings?--

Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow

For old, unhappy, far-off things,

And battles long ago:

Or is it some more humble lay,

Familiar matter of to-day?

Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,

That has been, and may be again?



Whate’er the theme, the Maiden sang

As if her song could have no ending;

I saw her singing at her work,

And o’er the sickle bending;--

I listened, motionless and still;

And, as I mounted up the hill

The music in my heart I bore,

Long after it was heard no more.



Monday, April 11, 2011

Power-ups

"President Marion G. Romney said of welfare work, “You cannot give yourself poor in this work.” And then he quoted his mission president, Melvin J. Ballard, this way: “A person cannot give a crust to the Lord without receiving a loaf in return.” 


I have found that to be true in my life. When I am generous to Heavenly Father’s children in need, He is generous to me." ~ Henry B. Eyring

Monday, March 7, 2011

When It Rains, It Pours!

(This is going to be long, just so you know!)

(Note: THis was originally part of a blog challege, Woman of Noble Character Challenge 3 & 4)
She considereth a field, and buyeth it: with the fruit of her hands she planteth a vineyard. She girdeth her loins with strength, and strengtheneth her arms. She perceiveth that her merchandise is good: her candle goeth not out by night. She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the distaff. She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she reacheth forth her hands to the needy. She is not afraid of the snow for her household: for all her household are clothed with scarlet.

Week 3: Proverbs 31:16-18 Are you thrifty and frugal? Do you take care of yourself by exercising and eating right? Write a post about how you are spending wisely and/or any ways in which you are making healthier choices to ensure you are energetic and strong.

Week 4: Proverbs 31:19-21 Do you extend a helping hand to the poor and needy? Is your family prepared for the possibility of a need? Write a post about how you are helping the unfortunate, and how you are setting aside for a day when your family may be in need.
I can't believe how timely this is. For those who don't know, the past few weeks have been crazy for our family. A month ago I would have written something very different for this challenge.
In January, my husband had surgery in Texas. I was his non-medical attendant. He had a fairly large cyst in his heel bone that was causing a lot of pain. The doctor here thought he might break it if it wasn't repaired. They cleaned it out and did a bone graft. (His full recovery time is at least 6 months!)

We spent 17 days away from home while we traveled to the hospital, he recovered from surgery and we returned home. It was not too bad. I felt like I was in limbo. Just before we left, I found out I was pregnant. I didn't feel quite right at first and, honestly, I was really stressed about it. I had 3 blood tests to check my hormone levels but each seemed fine. While we were in Texas I made my peace with this unexpected news.

While we were away, my mother, father and 2 brothers took care of our 7 children at our home. One child or another was sick the entire time we were gone.

Although our time in Texas was uneventful, our journey home was quite the opposite. We left just ahead of a big winter storm. We wanted to get as far ahead of the storm as possible before we stopped. Our truck had other ideas. At about 9:30 PM we suddenly lost power. I pulled onto the shoulder and we crawled along to the nearest exit (about 6 miles down the interstate!).  We checked into a hotel and asked about an auto parts store or mechanic. We had few options. We were in the middle of nowhere. Literally.

The next morning we found the truck was working just fine but we went to parts store and added some transmission goo just in case. By the time we left it was snowing pretty hard. My husband had gone off his meds so he could drive. He has more experience driving in snow. I was a nervous wreck.

For the most part, it was harrowing but not too bad. We had one SERIOUS close call when we came upon an accident that  was undoubtedly fatal for someone and had potential to be even worse. The accident had occurred in the opposite direction but the vehicles involved were in the median. There was a tractor trailer parked in the middle of the interstate on our side, straddling the center line in an effort to stop traffic. The driver was trying to help those involved in the accident. Because visibility was so low, we didn't even see the truck until it was almost too late. The icy road made it impossible to stop. I have no doubt that angels were guiding us as we slid around that truck, barely fitting between it and the guardrail. There were a few men on the road waving for us to stop. They jumped out of the way as we slid by like a scene from a movie. I have never been so scared in my life!

We drove through the storm and finally made it to clear roads near Memphis. That's when the truck started to act up again. We stopped for lunch and found out that there was a rental car agency a few miles away. The truck worked great getting to the rental car place but we didn't know what the problem was (We still don't but our guess is a computer issue. It seems to reboot if you turn it off and restart the engine but it will act up again after driving it for a while.) We rented a car and started for home but it was snowing again. The rest of the trip was kind of slow but much safer. Before my parents left that evening, we told the whole family about the new baby.

We arrived home Wednesday evening to sickly kids. By Friday I had decided that 2 of them were sick enough to see a doctor. One was diagnosed with strep, the other (our 11 year old) only had a headache and ear pain. The doctor said it was probably a virus and sent us home. That night he started throwing up. He couldn't keep anything down the whole weekend. By Monday he looked awful! His color was terrible, he was dragging himself around. I took him to Urgent Care as soon as the kids were on the bus. (my husband was home with 3 kids under 4 and on crutches.)

Patrick was given an IV of fluids, something for nausea and his strep test was positive. He started antibiotics that day.

That same day was my first doctor's appointment. Patrick waited in the waiting room half asleep while I sat through the usual lecture about eating a proper diet, etc, along with a new one about getting older and the increased possibility of birth defects. Finally the midwife started the exam with her little heart beat finder. She only found mine. She brought in an ultrasound machine and tried again.

Now, I had 5 babies overseas where they use an ultrasound for everything so I have seen more than my fair share of ultrasounds. I knew what I saw on the screen was not normal. It looked like an empty black circle, not unlike the cyst I had a few years ago.

She brought in a doctor to do some measurements and make it more official, then they went through a big deal about getting the dates wrong and doing more tests. I agreed to it but I was pretty sure there wouldn't be much change. I think the midwife knew this. She talked to me a little about miscarriage and was very sensitive without being too specific. I didn't tell Patrick or the other kids, only my husband.
The next day we made a whilrwind trip to Memphis to get our truck. It took all day. I never wanted to drive again at that point! We didn't quite make it home before the bus so my Visiting Teacher come over to meet the kids until we got home about 20 minutes later.

After a few days Patrick started to perk up and looked a little better. He asked me what makes your pee change colors and we talked about food coloring and dehydration. I didn't think much of it. Friday night he told me his pee looked like root beer. I was stunned. I told him to let me see it but he didn't until the next evening. I thought he was exaggerating. He wasn't. It was VERY dark.

My first thought was the antibiotics. Dark urine was listed as a side effect under "call your doctor" if you have this. I called the ER and asked to speak to a nurse but they said they didn't do phone consultations. I wasn't sure if it was an emergency since he wasn't in pain, didn't have a fever, seemed a little run down but fairly healthy, etc. That night he threw up again. I didn't give him the antibiotics that night or the next morning. He slept late and woke up just before Shane left for his church meetings.

I had Patrick get dressed and go with us to church. His face looked puffy and several people commented on how bad he looked. Shane and another brother gave him a priesthood blessing. He said that "with time" Patrick would make a full recovery. I felt reassured but I was more certain than ever that he needed a doctor. Shane took him home while I stayed with the other kids. When we got home they were both napping. Shane's surgery has taken a lot out of him and he still gets tired easily. I woke him up and told him I was taking Patrick to the ER.

At the emergency room they didn't seem too excited about Patrick at first. The doctor gave him and IV and sent a urine sample and some blood to the lab. (By now his urine was red!) The nurse said that he might get cold from the IV and I could ask for a blanket if he did. Near the end of the IV he started getting goosebumps and looked kind of purple and blotchy. He was even shivering a little. I went to the front desk and asked the nurse for a blanket. She seemed a little put out but when she came in she immediately took his pulse. His heart rate was 20 beats per minute. She hooked him up to machines and got the doctor. They did an EKG. His heart rate had come back up to an acceptable rate but his blood pressure was high. (the highest I saw was 174 /99). The doctor came in and said she had called Vanderbilt Children's Hospital in Nashville and they were sending an ambulance. She explained that he was having a complication from the strep infection and his kidneys were shutting down. That was causing the high blood pressure.

I called my husband and told him what was happening. He made some calls and found someone to come watch the other kids. Now remember, he is on crutches, I have been helping him get dressed because he can't bend that foot, and his truck has not been running like it should. The ambulance arrived as he was leaving the house. They waited a few minutes but ended up leaving with Patrick while I waited for Shane.

We raced down to Nashville, went to the wrong ER (Vanderbilt is a huge medical complex) and finally found Patrick sleeping but okay. He had been throwing up because of the toxins that were building up from the kidney dysfunction. They had given him something to help him rest. They also gave him medication to flush the kidneys and keep his blood pressure in check. We repeated the events of that week who knows how many times that night to nurses and doctors, family and friends. Shane stayed at the hospital while I went home to be with the other kids.


He came home the following Tuesday after spending 2 nights in the hospital. He had made dramatic improvements but the doctors said it could take months for his kidneys to heal. We felt very blessed because he did not need dialysis or an extended hospital stay. He is still on medications and a low sodium diet but he is doing well.

The day after Patrick came home I went back to the doctor for a second ultrasound and the results. The doctor was very kind but reached the same conclusions that we had. Either there had never been a baby (a blighted ovum) or it had not formed past a few weeks and my body didn't realize it (missed miscarriage). We discussed options and decided to schedule a d&c for Friday. She had explained that the natural process can take a few days and be very painful and physically taxing. We didn't want that. We wanted to have some control again.  I guess the Lord wanted to teach us that we don't really have any control because Thursday my body realized it wasn't pregnant any more.

I wasn't in any pain but I was bleeding very heavily for several hours and starting to feel dizzy. I called a nurse from our ward and she suggested going to the hospital to get checked out. After another late night we were home and the miscarriage was basically complete. The doctor at the ER said I had just gone through it faster than most. I had been expecting labor-like pains or at least some strong cramps. I had none of that. The doctor gave me something to cause stronger contractions and speed things along but I barely felt them. Another blessing.

By now you are probably wondering what this has to do with those verses in Proverbs and the questions associated with them. Well, I learned a great deal about virtuous women during all of this. I called on 5 to watch my kids during our various hospital trips. 2 brought meals. One brought flowers and chocolate "to bring you some sunshine". 2 gave me advice about low sodium foods. 2 gave me advice about the miscarriage. Countless others called or emailed offering prayers, comfort, and support. I got hugs and smiles.  Some of these women I haven't seen or spoken to in 10 years or more. I was overwhelmed by their love. I never realized how much it could mean to know you are not forgotten.

I also realized how important it is to be prepared. In a temporal way, we had plenty of food and enough money for our various needs. We were careful with our spending and had planned ahead for the trip to Texas. When we returned I replenished our supplies. Through all the excitement I made sure we kept up with dishes and laundry. Our kids have regular chores (not that they are happy about them) so it was not unusual for them to do the basic housework that I couldn't do for one reason or another.

We were also prepared spiritually. The moment of crisis is not the time to look for faith. The faith needs to be there to hold you up when the crisis comes. Without prior preparation my son would not have had a priesthood blessing. I would not have recognized the comforting of the Spirit during each of these trials. Prayer would not have been my first instinct when we faced danger and fear. If I had not been going to church, I wouldn't have known those sisters who reached out and they wouldn't have known me and my family.

The last thing I learned from all of this is how important it is to choose our friends wisely. We lift each other, stregnethen each other, motivate each other. I know I would not be the person I am without the many virtuous and noble women in my life. They put me on the right path and keep me there. I am so grateful to my Heavenly Father for this great blessing.

Monday, September 27, 2010

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!

Wednesday, September 1, 2010

"Hairy" Situations; Superwoman's Guide to Grooming

When I was a Young Woman, I had to do some big projects in order to receive my Young Womanhood Recognition. One of my projects was to learn to cut hair. My mom had been a beautician and performed that service for our family. I practiced on my brothers and the missionaries.

This has proven to be a useful skill. In college, I sometimes traded haircuts for food. I had my own scissors and clippers. I did lots of hair cuts and even had a few "regular customers" at times. It was good practice and always seemed more like a hobby than a job. In fact, it was kind of fun.

Don't get me wrong. I don't like doing it. Not really. I hate having little hairs all over me. I used to cut my fingers with the scissors almost every time! I am not the kind of person who aspires to be a hairdresser. My own hair is usually in a ponytail. When I wear it down, my kids just stare at me like they are trying to figure out who I am!

My own feelings aside, I have found this to be a great blessing to my family. My husband is in the military, a job that has regulations on hair length. When we were first married, only 11 years ago, he could get it cut for 5 dollars at the military PX. Now it is 12 dollars! That might not seem like much but it can really add up if you have to do it every few weeks. We also have 7 kids now. I have given them most of their haircuts. (They have given themselves haircuts, too...but that is whole other issue!)

Practical Points for Cutting Hair
Here are a few things I have learned, either from my mother or my own experience, that will make your haircutting adventures a little bit easier.

1. Take Care of Your Tools
Whether you are using scissors or clippers, it is important to clean them after each use. I rinse off the scissors and comb then leave them to air dry in a safe place (That means out of reach of little hands). I also rinse off the attachments for my clippers. I take the blades off and clean out the hair from time to time, but not after each haircut. I don't usually wash the clippers at all, I just brush the blades and wipe it with a tissue if it needs it. (This is because the blades need to stay oiled...and it is electric!)

2. Location, location, location!
This is not just for real estate. Good places to cutting hair are the bathroom, the kitchen, or outside. I like the bathroom because then the person getting the cut can just get in the shower afterward and clean off all those little hairs.  My second favorite is outside. Then you don't have to worry about clean up.
3. Dressing for the Occasion
I used to have a cape, a plastic thing that wraps around your neck and supposedly keeps the hair off of you. I found it to be more trouble than it's worth for kids. My boys would complain about being too hot and sometimes wiped their faces with the hairy thing. NOT fun. I usually have my boys strip down to their underwear for haircuts. If they are shy, they can put a towel around their waist. The less hair I can send through the laundry, the better.

My mom has a kind of house dress that she wears when she cuts hair. I usually just change clothes when I am finished. Whatever you do, don't forget that you will get hair on yourself, especially if you are giving a really short hair cut.

4. Boys and Girls are Different
My girls don't get haircuts very often. I occasionally trim their bangs or cut a few inches off the back. I don't get fancy with their hair. I just wet the part I want to cut and give it a few snips. They don't usually need a shower or cape or anything. That might change someday!

5. Cleaning Up
Don't forget the the hair has to go somewhere.  The garbage, the toilet, the yard, these are all pretty good options. A few months ago, I tried having my boys stand on a towel, thinking I wouldn't have to sweep. I am still finding stray hairs in the dryer vent! I alos tried sitting the little ones on the counter and letting the hair fall into the sink. That was fine...until I tried to wash teh hari down the drain. NOT pretty. If you try cutting hair into the sink, wipe it out and put it in the trash. Believe me, it will save you in the long run!

*A word of warning: cut hairs can be kind of sharp. You can get a hair spinter from these and they can be difficult to remove. So be careful if you or your "customer" is barefoot.

6. Keep Some Perspective
My dad used to say the difference between a good haircut and bad haircut is two weeks. It's true. Well, it might be longer than two weeks. But the point is, if it is too short, it will grow back. So don't worry too much.

Once I was cutting my son's hair and I noticed a place that was a little uneven. I changed the attachment on the clippers and pulled it across his head, front to back. I was in a hurry and didn't notice that that attachment had fallen off when I got to the back. The next swipe across his head took off ALL the hair! I had to shave his head, which he thought was wonderful. But I have been more careful since then.

If you mess it up really badly, you can go to a barber or hairdresser, which you would have done anyway but now you have some experience. So it's win-win!

Cutting hair can seem like a scary task. If you are too worried about messing up, you probably will. But if you are feeling advennturous and want to save a few bucks, give it a try. You might be surprised.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Superpowers 101: X-Ray Vision

When I was a child, my mother was called as the Young Women President of the ward. As always, she threw herself into her calling, learning all she could about the program and acquiring various materials to help her serve the Young Women better. Among these materials was a song book called "A Song of the Heart" and a cassette tape of the songs.

When I was about 10 years old I began to be very interested in music. I remember listening to various tapes over and over. This Young Women's tape was one of them. It was (and still is) a little stuffy for teenagers. At the same time I loved it.

One song in particular stood out to me. It was called "Little Things". There is a line that says "let me be the one who sees the tear behind the smile." I didn't understand what that meant. I remember asking my mom about it. I used to think about that a lot. I wanted to be the kind of person who had the mysterious ability to know when people were sad and didn't show it. I have tried for over 20 years to develop this skill. Sometimes I think I have it. Sometimes I am sure I don't. But that is not actually the point of this post.

Years ago, we were attending a small ward in Germany. We met in an office building  with stairs in the lobby. The ward used the two lower floors for church meetings. On this particular day, I was coming from the room that served as the chapel. I was carrying my daughter, who was about 14 months old, and a diaper bag, a bag of church stuff like scriptures and manuals, a few jackets, and holding hands with my son who was about 2 1/2 years old. Oh yeah, and I was about 7 months pregnant with twins.

Across from me was the staircase leading to the second floor. Another young mother was sitting there with her toddler son. As I came through the door, her son dropped his cup and it rolled towards me. She asked if I could get it. For a moment I actually considered it. I looked back at her, sitting on the lower steps holding only a child and said "No". I wasn't mean about it. I just realized that it would be easier for her to do it than me. I would surely loose my careful balance and never get it back.

At first, she looked like she was going to protest, as if my "no" was offensive to her. Then she looked at me. REALLY looked at me and smiled. "Okay" she said. Then she looked around, as if looking for someone else to ask. She didn't offer to help me with my burdens at all. She actually kind of made a scene about having to get up and get the cup.

This episode has always puzzled me. I have a number of thoughts about it.  I won't speculate about the motivations of that young mother's actions. I have many theories. But what I would like to point out is the moment when she looked at me and actually saw ME. Or at least a little bit of me.

Sometimes the people in our lives are like set peices. We don't really pay much attention to them. They are just background and don't seem to matter to us. Maybe they are tools, props that we use for our own needs and then disregard when they are out of that scene.


This should not be the case among the Saints of God. I am continually surprised by this...blindness to see the needs of others. In Mosiah 18 we learn that when we are baptized we make a covenant "to bear one another’s burdens, that they may be light; yea, and are willing to 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 that ye may be in, even until death..." I find the apparent negligence of this covenant unsettling.

I am not trying to pick on that mother who first illustrated this point all those years ago. I am sure we all have been in her place, overlooking the needs of others because of our own needs. At the same time, I am frustrated by the number of times people make really lame excuses for not helping others, not serving in their callings, not reaching out when there is a need, or even asking for help when they could easily do it themselves.

It is easy to get stuck in a certain way of thinking or doing something. That doesn't mean it is right. We are often counseled in the church to "pray until you feel like praying". The same applies to serving others. We must serve until we feel like serving. We are not meant to live life in a bubble, ignoring the needs of others and satisfying our own desires.

I am reminded of a potluck dinner I attended. We arrived late and people were already eating or in line. I made my way to the dessert table, carrying a tray of cupcakes, my children all around me waiting for me to tell them they could go eat. The room was crowded and the table was full. People began taking cupcakes from the tray, as if I was a server at a dinner party. No one attempted to make a place for the tray on the table. I did that with one hand while holding the tray with the other. I felt like I had entered a chicken coop with a bucket of feed.

It would not have taken much for someone to offer to help me with the cupcakes. It would have been nice if they hadn't bumped into me while I was making a space for them. It would have been a little thing. Just like the song. I don't know that I will ever master the ability to see the hidden tears. I will keep working on it. But I hope that I will always be able to see the obvious ones and do what I can to dry them.

Friday, November 20, 2009

Superpowers 101: Saying Thank You

Thank you.  An expression of gratitude. Simple, clean, direct. We learn it as children. We often say it without thinking about it. When someone holds a door for us or gives us a compliment we throw out a "thanks" automatically. In many ways, "Thank you" is one of the most common phrases in the English language. So, why does it feel so good to hear it? And why do we feel hurt when we don't?

"Thank you" is acknowledgment. It says "I know you did something for me." Whether the thank you is sincere or just a token seems to matter less than the acknowledgment itself. I have learned this lesson the hard way.

When my oldest children were young, my mother-in-law came to visit. After she had been there for several days, she told me that I should make the children say thank you to me. I was surprised and a little put off by this. My children were still very young, my oldest was almost 3. It wasn't that they couldn't say it yet. I just didn't think it was necessary for them to tell me thank you, especially for something as routine as feeding them lunch or getting them dressed.

Still, she insisted that they say "thank you" all day long. It wasn't that I minded, I just found it kind of silly. The children did establish a certain habit of this, although I didn't really enforce it. Over the next few years I came to regret that attitude and to see the wisdom of her words.

As my children got older, they became more demanding. They complained about what I made for dinner or the flavor of the Kool-aid. They criticized what clothes I picked out for them and which movie was on TV. "Why did you buy that toothpaste?" "That's not the way I wanted my hair." It seemed they were never satisfied. I was beside myself with frustration and irritation. My husband joined in my disappointment. It has taken us years to try and mold them into grateful, thoughtful people. Honestly, it is still a work in progress.

The benefit of this is that I have learned my lesson. My 2 younger children are only 3 and 17 months old but they both say "thank you" to me often. In fact, "Thank you" was the first thing my 3 year old learned to say.

Does it make a difference? You bet it does! Every time he sees me folding his favorite shirt he hugs me and says "You cleaned it! Thank you. Mommy!" He has followed the lead of his older siblings and says "thank you" for every bite of food I give him. If he doesn't, I notice and remind him. Somehow, I still struggle with making the older kids do this. We have already established the pattern.

The difference is in how I feel about doing things for them. I am much more eager to spoil my little ones because I know they will respond with a grateful attitude. I find my self thinking "Why should I?" when one of my less grateful children asks for something...again...for the tenth time. I know that it will not satisfy them, nor will they appreciate whatever effort I make for them.

This might seem immature. Maybe. But I have learned another lesson during this progress. Sometimes my kids have that same attitude. In fact, my oldest son has told me more than once that he doesn't like to clean his room because "It won't make you happy." I thought about this. He was right. I make demands on my kids all the time. In the past, I rarely showed appreciation for their efforts. They, in turn, didn't want to do what I asked them.

I have tried to correct this. When they do what they are told, or do what they should without being told, I make a point to say "Thank you". They eat it up! They are suddenly eager to do more.

I have never been a fan of the overly enthusiastic praise some parents give their children. "Oh my gosh! You did SUCH an AWESOME JOB! You are the GREATEST bed maker EVER!!!!" That is insincere to me and, frankly, unnecessary. My kids are pleased with a simple but sincere "Thank you for making your bed. I really appreciate it."

I know, there are moments when "Thank you" seems inadequate. Sometimes I wish there was another word or phrase we could use when we are REALLY thankful or when someone does something REALLY wonderful. There isn't. We are stuck with "Thank you". Does that make it any less meaningful? Should we say it less? Save it for the times when we are REALLY thankful?

Sometimes we might not feel thankful. We don't want to say "thank you" for some reason. It has been my experience that during those times we should say it the most. There is a quote that says your thoughts become your words, your words become your actions and your actions become your destiny. I think that can work in reverse. Our actions can change our words and thoughts. We can make ourselves more thankful by "going through the motions" when we are not really feeling that way.

I can safely say that we can all be more thankful. Some days I am in awe of the blessings I have, the comforts I enjoy, the amazing abundance I take for granted. I know I fall far short of being adequately thankful for all that I have. The hymn "Count Your Blessings" comes to mind. "Are you ever burdened with a load of care? Does the cross seem heavy you are called to bare? Count your many blessings; every doubt will fly, and you will be singing as the days go by." Such a simple thing to do and yet so hard.

In our culture we call "Please" the "magic word", I suppose because that is the word you use to get what you want. In reality, "Thank you" has more "magic". It makes kids do more work. It makes adults smile. It uplifts our spirits and gladdens our hearts. It helps us see the wonder and abundance around us. It is a phrase that acknowledges service. It represents actions that are often born of the simplest and greatest of all virtues: Charity. What greater proof can there be of our love for our Heavenly Father and his children than the exchange of such a phrase?

During this Thanksgiving season, may we all carry the spirit of thanks within our hearts. May we all be more thankful throughout the year and throughout our lives. And may I say to you all; Thank you for all you do!

Sunday, November 8, 2009

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.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Superpowers 101: Strengthening the "Feeblenese"

Many years ago, I attended a satellite broadcast of General Conference with my family. I was still a kid, old enough to know what was going on but young enough to be bored. One talk stood out to me. I don't remember who the speaker was. What caught my attention was a phrase he kept repeating "lift up the hands that hang down and strengthen the Feeblenese". I kept thinking "who are the Feeblenese?"

I imagined a tiny tropical island filled with dark-skinned natives dressed in brightly colored clothes. They were impoverished but smiling. As he repeated the phrase over and over, I imagined that they had some kind of rare desease that made them weak so their hands dragged on the ground. They toiled from morning to night to do the basic chores of survival.

By the time the speaker had finished, the image of these poor people was burned into my memory. It has been over 20 years and I still remember that experience vividly. As I got older, I became familiar with the phrase he had repeated. It was from the scriptures, admonishing us to "succor the weak, lift up the hands that hang down, and strengthen the feeble knees."

Because of that talk, and my imaginative misunderstanding of what was being said, I have taken a special interest in this phrase and its true meaning. In the years since I have often asked myself "Who are the Feeble Knees"?

We all become weary at times, with hanging hands and shaking knees. We are in need but don't know how to ask for help. I have found that it doesn't take much to lift those hands and strengthen those knees. A simple, unexpected, unrequested act of kindness can go a long way.

This year, President Thomas S. Monson spoke of service, relating many simple acts of service that had been rendered in honor of his birthday. As he spoke, I thought of the many acts of service that I have received. There are two that stand out to me and I would like to share them with you. Both of these instances occured during my husband's deployment to Iraq a few years ago. Though simple and small, they still touch my heart today.

One priviledge of being a member of the US military is the use of military commissaries. This was an especially comforting service while living overseas where familiar products were otherwise unavailable. The commissaries employ baggers to bag the groceries and load them into your car. They are often retirees or high school kids. The baggers work for tips only. The suggested amount is $.25 per bag. I have long made it a habit to tip the baggers as generously as possible.

We lived in a small community and whether I wanted to or not, I stood out. The commissary workers were always friendly and helpful, distracting the children or helping me load the groceries onto the conveyor belt.

During this particular deployment, I had 4 young children who needed to be strapped into their car seats. This was a time-consuming and sometimes frustrating chore, especially at the end of an equally long and frustrating shopping trip.

One day, a young man bagged my groceries. I assumed he was a student since I only saw him there if I went shopping on evenings or weekends. He was quiet and efficient. I really had not paid much attention to him until that day. As I struggled to get my children buckled into their seats, he loaded my groceries into the back of my van and closed the door. I stopped what I was doing and went to the back to give him his tip. He was gone. I looked around and did not see him anywhere.

I was stunned. Although the baggers were not demanding about their tips, they usually hung around waiting for you to notice them. Even if they walked away, they were slow about it so you could catch them if you wanted to give them a tip. I know it seems small but I was moved to tears by this young man's simple service to me. It wasn't that I couldn't spare those few dollars. It was that he had helped me without a word, without a thank you. He had noticed my struggle and done what he could to help. I cried all the way home.

An equally moving experience happened after another such shopping trip. My twins were old enough to walk and struggle up the 3 flights of stairs to our apartment. I was always torn between leaving them in the van or the apartment while I made multiple trips up and down with groceries. I usually employed the older two kids(who were 3 and 4) to help with at least one light bag as we made our trip up the stairs.

One day, my toddler son insisted on helping. I gave him a plastic bag with one box of tissues in it. I fully expected to be adding this bag to the ones in my hands after just a few steps. As we started our climb, he cheerfully pulled the bag up one step after another. After a while, he began to slow down. He was obviously struggling. Afterall, the box as almost as big as he was!

I offered over and over to take it from him but he refused. He was determined to help. He dragged that bag all the up to our apartment, carried it into the house, removed the tissues from the bag and put them on the counter. He was so proud of himself.

I realized that carrying that extra bag would not have made much difference to me. I was big enough and strong enough to do it with minimal effort. But for him, that was tremendous. He had made a huge sacrifice to help me with the groceries. He had struggled and worked and smiled the whole time. I was reminded of the parable of the Widow's Mite, the woman who gave so little and yet so much. I was humbled by my child's willingness to serve me.

In the Book of Mormon, King Benjamin teaches that when we are in the service of others we are serving God. Sometimes it is hard to serve others. It can be embarrassing and scary, especially if we think our service will go unnoticed or unappreciated. If we think of it as King Benjamin said, that we are not serving people but serving God, it becomes easier. It doesn't feel like service, a duty to perform. It feels like a privilege.

I have learned a lot about the Feeblenese. They don't necessarily live far away or have a crippling disease. They may not even look like they are weak or needy. They often don't need much, just a smile or a conversation, a simple act of service to show them they are not alone and forgotten. They are not always weak either. It turns out that when you strengthen a Feeblenese, they are able to strengthen others. I guess I was all wrong about them!