Sabbath Eve Thoughts

My little bundle of energy is finally asleep.  

Whew! 

Finally!

This business of moving from two to one naps is wearing both of us out, but one of us is not willing to admit it at all. ;)  But when she goes down for the night, she is out!  And I have some time to, well, usually clean.  Or collapse early into bed myself.  Or wait up for my dear husband.  Or surf the web looking at fabric and patterns and reading other random blogs and homeschooling information. :) 

(And, by the way, I must apologize for the dearth of pictures lately!  Nate did show me how to get them from my phone to the blog but... I kind of forgot.  And haven't taken the time to figure it out again.  But I will soon! And you will be refreshed in the visual department, and delighted, as I am daily, with our beautiful, growing girl, and maybe even a shot of the growing baby belly too!)

Anyway, tonight, as I was laying there in the dark bedroom, putting Eden to sleep, feeling her little hands twining through my hair, I was pondering.  My phone was playing a recording of "Fishers of Men," and the beautiful music and testimonies both soothed my spirit and ignited my own chain of pondering.  The voices of the prophets diminished in my hearing, and I began considering the various parts of my life, questions I wanted to ask Nate about the Priesthood (as a side note, it is fascinating to me to learn from a priesthood holder all sorts of details about the priesthood and priesthood service that I never learned!) and opportunities to serve in various capacities that have been given to me.   

I have to admit, probably to my shame, that when I'm given a new calling, my first thought is not always joyful and excited.  In fact, oftentimes the first thought that comes into my head is, "Really?!  Why me?!"  Why me, sometimes in that I've-already-got-a-lot-on-my-plate, are-you-sure-you-want-me type way, but more often why me in the sense that I know very well my own limitations, struggles, and lack of experience and I know that there are other people who are much more qualified and better able to do this job!  

So I wonder, "Why me?"

But I say yes, because I'm not going to say no to the Lord, no matter how much I want to. (Please tell me I'm not the only one who has struggled with this!)

Well, tonight I realized that my YES is all He wants.

He doesn't need my skills.

He doesn't need my time.

He doesn't need my particular talents.

I'm not so special that He only wants me to fill this calling 'cause nobody else could do it, or do it better.

In fact, to mortal eyes, my own included, my serving in this calling might have no important effect.

He is able to do His own work.

He doesn't need me to do it.

What He needs, for His work and His glory, (that is, my immortality and eternal life) is my yes.  What He needs for His work and His glory (that is, the immortality and eternal life of all His children) is that some of us say yes.  He will work through us.  But we must say yes.

Of course, saying yes includes giving my skills, my time, my talents, everything I can and need to, to the particular ministry with which I am entrusted at the time, but beyond that, it lies in His hands.  The outcome, outside of me, is up to Him.  The outcome, inside of me, is up to me.  If I say yes to Him, regardless of what He asks and does with my offering, His work will be done in my heart and my life, 

and isn't that what I want?

I said yes when I was baptized.  And I meant it, with all my eight-year-old heart.

I had the opportunity to say yes again as I passed through the temple to receive my endowment,

and I did so, with much fuller understanding and intent.

So why does it matter now?

Why do I need to say yes when the Lord asks me to do this thing?

Because those yes's must be lived out every day, or in reality, what do they mean?

Anyway, just some thoughts on the eve of this week's Sabbath.  I can't do it all, sometimes I think I can't really do much, but I can say yes.  He'll do with it what He wants.  

And I'll get some pictures up tomorrow, I promise!

A Corrupting Influence (a break from all the heavy stuff)

I just had to share this little experience!

On Thursday, Nate brought home the mail at his lunch break.  I was SO excited to get the Ensign for this month, and eagerly ripped off the plastic cover to flip through it while the girls ate their lunch.  H, of course, was intrigued by my interest, so I told her we'd look at it together after our quiet time.

She didn't forget, and as soon as we were up and at 'em again in the afternoon, she wanted to get it out and read it.  We didn't get any farther than the inside of the title page!  There we found a lovely painting of the five wise virgins, and since she wanted to know what it was about, I began to tell her the story of the 10 virgins.  

"Once there were 10 beautiful girls.  They were all good girls, but five of them were wise, and five were foolish.  Wise means kind of smart, someone who thinks ahead, and foolish means someone who doesn't use their head - someone who doesn't get ready and think ahead.  Anyway, these girls were all invited to go to a very special party, a wedding party where someone was going to get married.  They  were so excited!  They got on their best, prettiest clothes - see, beautiful dresses and flowers on their heads!- and then waited for the time to come.  Each one of them had a special little lamp in her hand,  a lamp that they could hold up and light the way for all the special people coming to the wedding when the bridegroom came.  See those little lamps?  What else to they have in their hands? See those little bottles?  Those are bottles of oil.  The wise girls thought ahead and made sure they brought extra oil to burn in their lamps, but the foolish girls did not.  

While they were waiting, guess what happened? It got later and later, and pretty soon, they all fell asleep.  It was dark, and they were all sleeping when suddenly, far in the distance, someone yelled, "The Bridegroom cometh!"

They were all still kind of asleep, but then they heard it again!

"The Bridegroom cometh!"

Hurry, hurry, everybody, straighten out your clothes!  All your lamps have gone out!  Quick, let's light them!  But remember, what was the problem?  The five wise girls brought extra oil, but did the foolish girls? No!  Oh, no!  Their lamps were gone out and they had no oil to light them!  They asked the wise girls, "Please, please, let us borrow some of your oil!" 

But the wise girls said, "We can't give you any!  Then there won't be enough for any of us!  Run, run quickly to the store and buy some!"

But while those foolish girls were gone, guess what happened?  The bridegroom came!  And there was a whole group of people, cheering and dancing and playing music, and the five wise girls got to run in the front with their lamps burning brightly! (a little poetic license;) Everyone was cheering, "The bridegroom cometh!  Hurray! Hurray! The bridegroom cometh!"

They all went along to the bride's house and then they all went inside! And because it was night, they shut the big gates, boom!, and locked them so no bad guys would sneak into the party.  It was such a great party!  There was light and tasty food and music and dancing, and everyone was so happy!

After a while, those five foolish girls came running up to the door, and they knocked on the door, bang! Bang! Bang! 

"Let us in! Let us in!" 

But the bridegroom said,"I'm sorry, I don't know who you are! I can't open the door!"  And those foolish girls were left outside.  They didn't get to go to the party at all.

This was all told in half-narrative, half-dramatized voice, and H. loved it so much that she had me repeat it three times in a row!  Her favorite part was hearing me shout, "The Bridegroom cometh!"  and then running around and dancing and holding up her "lamp" while cheering and shouting it herself. ;)  Lots of fun!

Awhile later, her mama came to get her.  Of course, at that moment, the adults are all in a hurry and the children are all like molasses.  I hustled H. upstairs to get the blanket she'd brought, and we found Eden in the spare bedroom, investigating a box of prepackaged alcohol wipes.  (Nate was nearby.)  H. wanted to know what those little things were, so I told her. 

"They're alcohol wipes.  Come on, lets go!"

"Can I have one?"

Aaahhh! Let's go! "Sure! Here, here is one for you.  Now let's go!  Your mama is waiting downstairs!"

"Oh! OK.  I'll save it til I'm grown up!"

What?! That's strange. Whatever! 

She still dawdled.  I tried to gently hurry her along.  No luck.  At the top of the stairs, she totally stalled.  You know how little kids' pockets and hands never quite seem to fit together properly?  She was trying to stuff it into her pocket without success, and would not go until it was safely stowed.  I told her to just go downstairs and her mama would help her, but she started to hyperventilate and lock her knees so I offered to just put it in her pocket myself.  That calmed her down.

"And so my mama won't know.  It will be a secret!  She can't know!  Hide it from her!"

Again, what?! 

"Honey, its ok! You can show it to her and she'll help you use it!"

"No! No! We have to keep it a secret!"

Ok.  Whatever.  It was in her pocket, we finally made it downstairs and they were out the door.  

Fifteen minutes later, as Nate and I were getting ready for a date, I heard my text alert ding.  It was from H.'s mom.  Apparently, H. couldn't hold her secret in any longer and so she confided to her mother that I had given her alcohol to drink, and it was hidden in her pocket!!!!  

AAAAAAHHHHHH!!!!!

That was why she told me she'd "save it until she was grown up!" That was why she wanted to keep it as secret from mommy! and why she freaked out about taking it downstairs in the open!

So here I am, a corrupting influence, teaching my little charge bible stories in the afternoon and then sending her home with a little alcohol in her pocket.  Yep, that's me!

(Thankfully her mom trusts me, and carefully explained what I'd actually given her and how it was used.  I'd hate to think what kind of memories of me she'd carry through her life if not!)

Women of Character

First, thank you to all of you who have left comments on various posts!  I love to know that someone is reading my thoughts, and your words uplift and encourage me.  I may not reply to your comments specifically, but please know that I read and treasure them.  They mean so much to me!

A few weeks ago, I received an unexpected package in the mail.  I always like to get mail, even those random catalogs that come from LL Bean and the like, :) and this proved to be much better than a random catalog!  A dear friend who has known me nearly all my life very thoughtfully sent me some words of encouragement and a book entitled "Women of Character."  Its full of the stories of LDS women, from many backgrounds and through many choices and circumstances, from the early pioneers to today's women.  The essays are just the right length for a busy, tired mama (or anyone else!) to snatch up and read during a baby's nap, a bathroom break, or a brief moment of quiet on the couch, and then mentally chew on throughout the rest of the day's duties.  Its been a blessing and an inspiration!

The other night, after a particularly difficult day, I lay in bed and this book came to mind.  I was having a conversation with myself, arguing back and forth between self-sacrifice and insistent discontent, between bad attitude and stuffing emotions, between wanting to be a good wife and wanting to have things my way...  The mental club kept whacking me upside the head, "This shouldn't be so hard for you... Just suck it up and be happy!...Come on, 'daughter of the pioneers,' what happened to cheerfully living with your decision?..."  I don't know why those things even come to my mind to say to myself; I'd never say them to someone else who was struggling!

So this book came to mind, at first as more ammunition to launch at myself - they did it, why can't I? They even had it worse, what am I complaining about?  Look at all my blessings, why can't I just be content?  It was not pretty.  But then I started to see things differently.  Yes, they were great women.  Yes, they overcame difficulties and persevered and demonstrated faith and love and sacrifice.  BUT! I was reading their stories after the struggle, on the other side of the difficulty, when the trials were passed.  Of course what stands out is the fact that they made it, they did it, they got through with grace and went on!  That's why we read such stories for inspiration!  It suddenly struck me that these women surely had their moments of inner turmoil, that being mortal, they had their moments of weakness, that there were undoubtedly moments when they wished things were, or could be, different, and probably even times when they (*gasp*) had to vent or complain or even burst into tears!  Yet those moments didn't diminish the greatness of their lives, the truth of their triumphs.  I doubt any one of them thought of herself as a heroine or someone who was going to be set apart in history as an exemplar of certain virtues, but here I am, reading their stories for encouragement and inspiration in my struggle.

I don't think of myself as a great heroine or some exemplar to stand on a pedestal.  I know too well my inner (and sometimes outer!) struggles and faults to presume that role even if I wanted to.  But it was a blessing to realize that having these struggles does not mean I am bad, or unable, or weak, or even particularly selfish.  Hard things are hard, regardless of why or whether they "should" or "shouldn't" be.  The point is to get through them the best we can, with forgiveness, faith, and a healthy measure of God's grace to see us through.

Yes, I've been really struggling.  Yes, there are days when my attitude needs pretty constant adjustment.  Yes, there are times when things are not so good.  But I make it through, day by day, and when I can humble myself enough to accept it, the light of heaven gently shines through in small and unexpected ways to ease my burden and help me along.