Christmas 2017

*Santa letters went high-tech this year. I've been playing around with all things Google lately and Santa needed some input as to what the college student was needing. This was the easiest way.

Some of those responses . . .

*Kiersten and Jason finally made an appearance. Carroll and Sharon also came over for our yearly pizza get together. We had toyed with the idea of having Carroll meet Jason at the door clothed in camo brandishing his rifle and knives. Jason was cool about the whole pseudo meeting with a response of "Where are we going?" He is quite a likeable kid.

*Our freezer, oven, and iron all colluded to break on the same day, two days before Christmas. Thankfully we have an extra oven; we put blankets over the freezer until we could get to the store on the 26th -- Merry Christmas to us; and the new iron was free when we used our points from buying the freezer. Ash and Alex took the huge box and made a fort which they've been sleeping in every night.

*Yearly slideshow. This is probably my most favorite gift to give each year to my family. It takes a lot of time but so worth it as we watch every Christmas Eve and reminisce about the past year. This year I used an online program which included a link for viewing. So you're welcome. In case you didn't get enough of my family this year.

*Christmas Eve snow is so magical. And a couple of our crew performed a good deed Christmas morning by shoveling the neighbor's driveway.

*After 10 years my blog header got a face lift thanks to Erik and his crazy design skills.

He also put those design skills to work in his graphic design class by making each family member something -- puzzles, t-shirts, mugs -- and included a cute little poem with each. We had a poet and didn't even know it!

*I tried making a cheesecake for the first time. The Cheesecake Factory has nothing on us.

And . . .

*I joined the old lady club and got me some reading glasses. I see fine but trying to decipher my microscopic writing in my scriptures was pretty much impossible. 


That face pretty much sums up how I feel about 2017. Some years are just worse than others. BUT . . . to sum up Jimmy Cliff:

It's gonna be a bright (bright)
Bright (bright) sunshiny [year].

At least I'm hoping for a good 2018.

The Forgotten People

Several weeks ago my sister passed along an email that she got from work. She works for Rhodes Bake-n-serv. You know the people who make the frozen rolls and bread. Her company is always looking for ways to improve their employees and work environment. This particular email came to her from The Arbinger Institute, a company who tries to help individuals and organizations move from an inward mindset to an outward mindset.

It was all about remembering the forgotten people in our lives.

I read and then stopped to think about the "forgotten" people in my life and how I might serve them this Christmas.

My thoughts went to our dentist. Shortly after moving to Salt Lake, Tyler and I sought out a dentist. Back then nobody had a web page but instead advertised in the phone book. Dr. Pettit was close and looked friendly enough.

Nineteen years, five kids, two crowns, one root canal, and quite a few fillings later we still are making the biannual trip to Salt Lake for our cleanings. He is pretty much family to us. In fact when I had to cancel our cleanings last spring due to lack of insurance, my kids were quite morose [probably because it meant no video games while they wait their turn :)]

Pettit Dental was the "forgotten" people in our life and I set about making a loaf of bread for each dental employee. It's not very often that we visit the dentist right before Christmas and we were excited to be able to give something back after so many years.

My thoughts also went to remembering those times in our lives that are easily forgotten once we've moved on. Like the young mom with little children who thinks she will always be changing diapers and wiping noses. Or the new family in the neighborhood. It's not easy moving to a new area, wondering how you're going to fit in. Or for me, it's the substitute who shows up to our special needs class for the day. Those were some awkward subbing jobs when I would walk into a special ed class full of other paras busily doing their morning routines and nobody really acknowledged me. I try very hard to make our substitutes feel at home and because of my efforts one of those substitutes has become someone I would call my friend.

REMEMBER: One of the most important words in the dictionary.

Stalled yearnings and wrenched heart strings

I have a friend who is where I was a year ago. She has a senior who will be graduating and then off to who knows where. My friend is also in the middle of a pretty messy remodel due to something beyond her control that has dragged on for way too long (this is not where we were a year ago, thankfully). As she has imagined this potentially last Christmas with all her children at home, it was the image of a beautiful home all decked out in Christmas trimmings, full of magic and love and warmth and memories. Instead they are without carpet, with furniture crammed in spare rooms, and no real beds to sleep in.

And my heart strings are wrenched right along with hers.

In September of 2016 I was beginning to plan that last year we would have with all our children at home. I was researching a trip to somewhere fun and exciting. Another new adventure to strengthen those familial bonds and create lasting memories.

And then October 19 happened and those dreams and plans were put on hold.

Probably indefinitely.

A year later child number two is finishing up his first half of his senior year and those dreams and plans are still on hold. I thought for sure things would be different and I could reconvene with my plans before the second child left home.

And I've grieved over those silly little plans. My plans for my family. 

This past year may not have been what I've wanted, but we are still a family, making lasting memories as we serve together, as we laugh around the kitchen table, as we pray and read scripture together. I hope that years from now, my children will reflect on this period of life and say, "Remember when . . . " as they anonymously help another who has fallen on hard times. Remember is such an important word. Perhaps the most important I think.

Ob la di, ob la da, life goes on . . . 

And so it will for my friend. She is grieving over lost Christmas expectations just as I have grieved over lost opportunities. But they aren't really lost. There will still be family vacations and beautiful Christmas memories in years to come. They just may include a few extra people who have now joined the ranks we call family.

Having a senior in high school does not necessarily signal the death of an era as much as it does the birth of new beginnings.

And those stalled yearnings give us much needed patience as we wait upon the Lord, turning to him in our times of need, learning to walk and talk with him daily.

A happy birthday of sorts

On November 14th this little blog of mine turned 10.

I can't hardly believe it myself.

What started out as an experiment has truly become the real thing.

Statistics from 2011 to 2016 show that my posts were becoming less frequent, but this year I've upped it a little and surpassed last year's number.

Do I have less to say?

Not really. Just a lot less time.

Back in 2007, the beginning of 2008, I was in a Primary presidency with Karen Fox, Myken Hurst, and Trish Newby.

I was still living the dream in Stansbury Park, fulfilling my duties as treasurer and webmaster of the Stansbury Park Community Association Board, and getting ready to mail out yearly dues.

I had a 2nd grader, 1st grader, one in preschool and another still in diapers. I was helping put together a 1000 chart for Kiersten. So glad they don't do those anymore. What a waste of time.

I was teaching piano to two of my kids. One has become quite proficient and the other I'm happy to report still knows how to play Indian Dance.

I hadn't even contemplated running yet. Or maybe I had thought about it but hadn't even mastered a mile yet. That first 5k wouldn't come until part way through 2008.

I was preparing to get my first passport and make my first jaunt outside the country.

I was caught in the cylcone of vampires and werewolves with Twilight but had just finished one of my favorites The Count of Monte Cristo. In one year's time I read 18 books.

My testimony was flourishing and I had even dared to bear it out loud in church one Sunday. It's quite remarkable to look back on 10 years and see how much I have grown in my faith and testimony.

I'd have to say the last 10 years were 10 wonderful years, full of some great experiences and opportunities. I'm hoping one day I can say the same for these next 10.

Stay tuned . . .

Do unto others before they do to you

Kiersten and her assault rifle haven't managed to keep the boys away.

The entire Thanksgiving gang all knew something was up when Kiersten was itching to get back to Orem over Thanksgiving break.

Two days after our Thanksgiving festivities I got a late night phone call that we might have to go rescue Angie and Jacob in Ogden and take them back home. Kiersten got wind of this at 10pm and quickly concocted a plan for us to drop her off at her apartment in Orem, a mere 30 minute drive south from where we might be headed. It all seemed a little suspicious given the late hour.

Looking at a possible 3 hour drive to Ogden, to Saratoga Springs, and back home, I didn't want to add another hour. Luckily, their van made it home and we got to stay home all snug in our beds.

Kiersten returned to Orem the next day and six days later she called home with the news that she is now officially dating "Jason." All I know is she's known him three weeks, he's an RM from Eagle Mountain about to have another birthday, and he's her running partner.

Hmmmm.

I can't say I saw this coming.

Rules? I'm sure we had instituted some rules before she left home.

She also kindly rejected my offer to have them join us for a birthday celebration for Matt. Something about a concert at Snow College for her friend.

Hmmmm.

Maybe she really works for the Department of Defense and this is all a ruse.

Great expectations

"All frustration comes from unmet expectations. There is no such thing as someone who is frustrated who didn't have an expectation." --Dr. John L. Lund

Frustration is just another silly word for anger, resentment, displeasure, irritation. When Tyler and I were first married and trying to figure each other out (which we are still attempting to do), I would get upset and tell him that I was just frustrated. I wasn't mad, just frustrated. He would retort, "No. You're mad." And this would make me more angrier . . . I mean more frustrated. :) I've come to learn that he was right. I was upset. I expected him to act a certain way. I didn't expect to have to spell everything out for him. He should "read my mind" and know what I wanted.

Oooooooooooooooeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeooooooooooooooooooo. That is out there. That is so out in space.

I finished listening to an audio book by Dr. John Lund that is all about relationships and how to manage how tricky they are sometimes. This is the 3rd or 4th time I've listened to it in the past decade, but decided this last time that I need to review it once a year.

Don't we all have expectations for the relationships we are in. Don't we all expect the people in those relationships to act and behave a certain way whether it's our spouse, our coworker, our mother-in-law, our child, our neighbor.

And when they don't, then what? Feelings are harbored and relationships are stifled.

So . . .

Own your expectations. Don't expect anyone to read your mind. If you want the garbage taken out, say something. If you don't want your mother-in-law meddling in your affairs, say something. (This has nothing to do with my own mother-in-law who is pretty great. I scored in that department. I do know several people who really don't get along with theirs, probably because they have expectations about how they envisioned the relationship to be or maybe these mothers-in-law don't do things like their own mothers did).

Be a content communicator. Say what you mean and mean what you say.

Criticism. When I am in a relationship of equals, I must ask their permission before giving advice or critiquing them. It will backfire every time if you don't.

Learn love languages. So often we give love the way we would like to be loved. Learning the way others like to receive love is essential. Just because we love to receive gifts doesn't mean everyone else will love it too.

Great expectations . . . are really not so great unless they are expectations for no one else but ourselves.

Wonder Woman

"I used to want to save the world. To end war and bring peace to mankind. But then, I glimpsed the darkness that lives within their light. I learned that inside every one of them, there will always be both. The choice each must make for themselves - something no hero will ever defeat. I've touched the darkness that lives in between the light. Seen the worst of this world, and the best. Seen the terrible things men do to each other in the name of hatred, and the lengths they'll go to for love. Now I know. Only love can save this world. So I stay. I fight, and I give... for the world I know can be. This is my mission, now. Forever."

My family can attest that I am no movie critic. I rarely make it through any movie. Except Mamma Mia and now Wonder Woman. The more I watch it, the more I really like it (and if I could, I'd remake it and take out a few unnecessary scenes to make it even more fabulous). It's just different than the other super hero movies.

I've now watched it 3.3 times since July and every time it gives me the chills, especially the scene where she removes her cloak, climbs out of the trench hole clothed in armor, and marches toward the enemy, leading the way for her comrades.

Diana was blessed with super powers to help save and heal a world. Despite having these innate abilities, she still had to train hard and improve those skills. There was work and effort involved. Gradually her life mission came into focus. I believe we all have been born with certain abilities and talents, super powers if you will, that can help bless the lives of those in our little part of the world and help us in our own life's mission.

Are we going to let them lie dormant or are we willing to turn off our screens, get off the couch, and put in some effort to magnify them in order to make this world of ours a better place to be? 

Do we hunker down in our comfortableness when we ought to climb out and engage?

Diana was not content to remain in the safety of her home or foxhole and neither should we. Comfortable and content is easy. Putting our gifts to work is hard. Sacrifice is hard. Service is hard.

Everyone has a part to play in the grand scheme of things and God has not left us alone. My patriarchal blessing has been one of the greatest tools I have in knowing who I am and the "super powers" I've been blessed with.

"You are stronger than you believe. You have greater powers than you know."

Lower lights

Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid.

Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house.

Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.

--Matthew 5:14-16

A long time ago, noted preacher Dwight Moody told his congregation a story about a boat, helplessly rocking and plunging on a stormy, starless night near the Cleveland harbor. The mariners on board could see the lighthouse, but they needed to find their way through the narrow passage in the treacherous rocks that surrounded the harbor. Normally a light on the shore, aligned with the lighthouse, marked the passage to safety. But on this night, the lower lights had gone out.

Finally, the desperate captain decided they had no choice but to proceed into the harbor without the guidance of the lower lights. "With a strong hand and brave heart"—but in almost total darkness—"the old pilot turned the wheel." Tragically, he missed the channel, crashed the boat upon the rocks, and lost the lives of his sailors.

Moody then explained the lesson to be learned from his story:

The Master will take care of the great lighthouse, but He depends on us to keep the lower lights burning.

The storms of life put many around us in peril. They may long to approach the light of "our Father's mercy" but are unsure how to navigate the obstacles in their way. We all know how they feel, because each of us has been lost at sea from time to time.

Most often, God uses us to rescue them. If we can keep the light of faith burning in our hearts, if we align our light with the Light above, we can guide an exhausted mariner safely home. We can be the lower lights that "send a gleam across the wave. Some poor fainting, struggling seaman [we] may rescue, [we] may save."
--Music and the Spoken Work, March 2014

Philip Paul Bliss was inspired by Rev. Moody's sermon and penned a relatively unknown hymn titled "Brightly Beams Our Father's Mercy."

Brightly beams our Father's mercy
From His lighthouse evermore, 
But to us He gives the keeping 
Of the lights along the shore.

Dark the night of sin has settled, 
Loud the angry billows roar; 
Eager eyes are watching, longing 
For the lights along the shore.

Trim your feeble lamp, my brother! 
Some poor sailor, tempest tossed, 
Trying now to make the harbor, 
In the darkness may be lost.

Chorus: 
Let the lower lights be burning, 
Send a gleam across the wave! 
Some poor fainting, struggling seaman 
You may rescue, you may save.

Eagle Scout

A year later Erik is finally getting all the accolades that come with his eagle rank. He's sat in several eagle's nests in the past year and eventually made it to his own this time. I just didn't have the "eagle powers" a year ago to put together a court of honor.

Erik designed his invitations and the program and Ashlyn put together the poster for me.

My favorite photo was this one:

I'm not sure where it came from but the look on both Erik's and Scott's faces is priceless. The caption read Duct Tape Merit Badge.

We combined with another scout in our ward, Evan Huffaker. They both wanted a very simple, low key program and that's what they got.

Erik's gone from this

to a grown up person overnight. Okay, maybe not overnight. But it sure seems that way.


I watched my mom pull her hair out with my brothers getting their eagle awards and I told myself I would not do that. I have been extremely blessed with tremendous scouting leaders along the way who have been supportive and helped both Erik and Nate along their scouting path.

In Erik's little speech he told about forgetting his sleeping bag on an overnight camp out 10 miles from our home. Instead of running him home to get one, the scout leader lent him an extra blanket he had. Erik said it was one of the coldest nights but he learned to never forget his sleeping bag again.

Paige Lerdahl accompanied Erik to his first cub scout day camp where she related to me how Erik could not pee in the outhouses they had set up. She tried to get him to just go off into the woods. Unfortunately, I had taught my boys to sit like a girl while using the bathroom. She ended up driving him down the mountain to a gas station to use the facilities. After hearing this story, I commissioned Tyler to teach our boys how to relieve themselves like a man. No scout -- or scout leader -- should end up in that predicament ever.

The rank of eagle scout is quite an accomplishment and there are few that get there. I just hope Erik has learned a few things about character, integrity, hard work, dedication in addition to the things he had to do to earn merit badges.

Even Nate got a little excitement when Aaron Roberts lent him his sword to use during the flag ceremony.

A new and improved Nate

Braces came off today! Three down, possibly two more to go.


Nate laughed as we were checking out and the receptionist was scheduling him for three more appointments. Retainer fittings. Gums lasered. Final check. I guess we're not quite complete, but close.

Mamma Mia and Angel's Landing

Can I just say I love my family. I love having a mom and sisters and daughters who are always on board with my ideas. I left the boys to fend for themselves over UEA weekend and took off for sunny, warm St. George for some bonding, laughter, and to forget about life for a few days.

With a car full of crazy women, crazy things are bound to happen. Stuck in the middle of the freeway with stop and go traffic, we needed a little diversion so we unrolled the windows, cranked the volume, and shared our love of Abba with the world around us.

When I purchased the tickets to Tuachan's Mamma Mia, I had no idea that front row really meant front row. We've all been in love with the movie and to see the play was just as good.

When we visited Zion's several years ago, Kiersten decided then that she wanted to conquer Angel's Landing (or Hell's Landing as I coined it) at some time in her life. I broached the idea the next day and we were off. Two miles up with a half mile to go, I seriously just about called it quits. When I saw this view, I knew my heart could not take whatever it took to get to the top, and frankly I was shocked that they let anyone navigate that last half mile unsupervised.

But my trusty comrades, or should I say naive billy goats, coerced me to the top.

Our bishop, who I discovered is terrifically terrified of heights, summited with the priests this past summer. I figured if he could get this picture of Erik, I could also conquer this terrifying feat. 

All I could think about as I clambered up this mountainous precipice was please don't slip and fall and two, what comes up, must come down. I also refused to glance down as I was headed up lest I get vertigo, plummet to a tragic death, and become an angel myself. 

The tricky part of the entire climb was negotiating around people ascending and descending all while not letting go of the safety chain. 

It's a long way down if you do.


But the view was worth it. Spectacular.

Would I do it again?

It's like childbirth. Immediately after my feet were planted on more stable ground I said no way. But time has a way of erasing those fears and thoughts. I might could do it again.

Unconquerable

Ah, last weekend. Just what the doctor ordered. I've been looking forward to our getaway since June.

Somehow I just knew we would be in a better job position and could justify this little trip. And actually the day our entourage of girls left marked one year since finding out Tyler would no longer be employed.

I don't think I could really call it a celebratory vacation, just kind of ironic in the timing. This past week I've randomly come across the story of Joseph in Egypt three different times. My patriarchal blessing references him so I reread his story because maybe God was trying to point something out to me. My take aways:

He was filled with an unconquerable spirit.
Life most certainly did not turn out quite like he anticipated.
He had some mean brothers.
He maintained his integrity.
He was wise.
He was generous.
He was forgiving.
He was a smart businessman.
God was with him at all times and . . . my favorite . . . 

"That which he did, the Lord made it to prosper."

That last line came as Joseph sat in prison, unjustly condemned. God can work miracles and make even the worst of circumstances prosper for our good. I'm sure Joseph wondered many times how it was all going to turn out. As I read, I was rooting for him, telling him to hang in there, things are going to get better. Because I had read the conclusion. I knew how the story ended. But in the middle of it all, Joseph didn't know. He simply continued to put one foot in front of the other. Faith. He was a man of faith.

My last take away from this story:

Joseph was blessed with 7 years of plenty and then 7 years of famine. We've had many years of plenty and are one year into our income famine. Oh, I hope the Lord wasn't trying to tell me that we are in for another 6 years of drought. I don't think my heart nor our bank account could hold out that long.

I am very grateful for the little income we do have but pray every day for a better opportunity to come along.

Joseph. I need to be more like him. More full of faith. More trusting. God knows the end of this story and he is working to turn these less-than-desirable circumstances into something better. The middle is not a fun place to be, but I'll take it over where we were a year ago.

Social Media

“Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers”
(Ephesians 4:29)

Facebook : Instagram : Twitter : Snapchat : Pinterest : Youtube : Blog

I'm coming up on 10 years that I've kept and maintained this blog. Back here I wrote a post about how I came to start a blog, and then Elder Ballard just a few short weeks later in a devotional asked us to begin sharing the gospel online.

"Most of you already know that if you have access to the Internet you can start a blog in minutes and begin sharing what you know to be true."

His words were more than coincidental and I truly felt like God was asking me to do this. So what initially began as a blog to document family stuff became a blog where I began to add more of my thoughts and experiences with the gospel. It's become what scrapbooking used to be but online. I failed miserably as a scrapbooker but have loved being able to document my life, our lives, with pictures rather quickly and share with whomever cares to read.

Honestly, my only following may be my family but if that is all I write for, it is enough. "For [I] labor diligently to write, to persuade [my] children, and also [my] brethren, to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for [I] know that it is by grace that [I am] saved, after all [I] can do." (2 Nephi 25:23) Ashlyn is quick to tell me when I haven't posted anything for awhile.

My blog was the beginning of my online presence. From there I joined the world of Facebook in 2008 and slowly added more media over the years. I'm using Facebook less frequently now that I've discovered Instagram. I have a Twitter handle but use it mainly to follow General Conference talks and elementary ed ideas. I use Youtube and Pinterest primarily as organization tools. Snapchat? Tried it once and didn't get it at all.

Lately I've been thinking about social media, how I use it, and my persona that is being projected to the world. I love how I can stay connected with family and friends but is what I'm sharing good? Does it uplift? Is it authentic? Does it build relationships? 

I was posting this picture of Erik the other day on Instagram and hovered over the box to also have it post to Facebook. To check or not to check? I rationalized that I have family members who are not on Instagram but are on Facebook so what the hey and I checked the box despite my uneasy feelings. He had received his ACT score of a 34 several weeks prior which put him above the threshold he needed to get a scholarship. He and I headed to the USU open house where they awarded him a 4-year, full tuition and I was excited to share the good news.

After making the post, I just didn't feel comfortable despite all the congratulations that came in. A week later I read a friend's blog entry about keeping it real. She basically laid out for the world that in the last 5 years they've lost their main source of income, had to sell their home, found out she has a debilitating disease, and that her kids aren't getting straight A's and scholarships.

Ouch!

Honestly, I know that was not aimed at me but it really has made me reflect on why I post what I post. What is the purpose and intent? Is it to make me look good and have everyone give shout outs with thumbs up and hearts of love?

I read a story years ago about a meeting where a general authority was visiting. The stake president was speaking about his family and going on how all his children had served missions and married in the temple . . . yada yada. The general authority gets up afterwards and kindly rebukes the stake president, "President, please don't burden the rest of us with your successes." (I tried in vain to find where I have heard/read this story and had no success.)

Heaven forbid anyone should feel worse about themselves after reading something I've shared. We live in a society of instant everything. Most people generate a quick response to an email or text or post and immediately hit send without rereading or rethinking what it is they have written. I've thought through a few questions to keep in mind before sharing anything online.

1. What's my motive?
2. Am I boasting or sharing?
3. Will it edify and uplift?
4. How will others feel?
5. Could this be hurtful?
6. Is it kind?
7. How would I feel about this post in 5 years or 10 years?

I want to continue to document my family's life. What a treasure trove I've amassed over the past 10 years. I want to continue to uplift and motivate and share goodness with my little part of the social media world. However, I want to be more authentic about why I'm doing it. I hope to never burden others by drawing attention toward myself but rather I want to multiply the goodness in the world by being more cognizant of my reasons for participating in this vast online world.