In My Heart On Thursday

                                          It's 10 minutes, but worth it. 
 I started crying at 4:29 and the tears kept falling
Thank you, One Mom's Moxie, for posting it for me to see

In My Heart On Thursday

-as seen this week on Blackpurl's Knitpickings

Back In the Day-Walking Through Fountains

This photo comes from the time in my life I like to call my "fountain days."  What happy memories come flooding back as I think about the free-spirit I was back then feeling the invitation of refreshing bubbling water.  And its impossible to think about fountain-hopping without also thinking of my old friend Jason.

I started college when the internet was still a novelty.  Sitting in the campus library I signed up on a Christian dating site and quickly met two fantastic people.  One of those people was Jason and it was only a matter of months before I hopped on a plane to New Jersey to meet him. My mom dropped me off at the airport a little confused and a lot scared and horrified.  I figured that out when I didn't think to call her upon arrival and she hunted me down by phone at Jason's grandmothers home.(Important clarification: Jason and I were always just friends.  Our hotel rooms always had two beds and we never even held hands.  I'm not sure my family has ever believed me.)

I learned a lot of important life lessons while cavorting around the country to meet Jason.  Here area few of the gems that stayed with me:

Always have food available for the needy.
I met Jason's grandmother that very first weekend.  In her kitchen drawer, where you and I might keep the dishtowels or utensils, she had a full stock of SPAM, just in case somebody ever stopped by collecting for the food bank.

There really is a wrong side of the tracks.
On a business trip in Baltimore, Jason's company put us up in the nicest hotel I've ever stayed in .  One night while out on a walk we crossed a bridge and immediately found ourselves in the most run-down neighborhood I've ever been in.  I was terrified and even Jason gave pause as we walked in one block, over one block, and out one block.  A girl followed two steps behind singing the theme from "Reading Rainbow" until we reached the bridge where she stopped and we high-tailed it back to luxury.

Security guards do a lot of looking at you funny, not much anything else.
Washington D.C. is fountain mecca and where I took my first wet foray.  (Don't panic, I never got up the nerve to actually walk through the reflecting pool on the National Mall!) This is where I also learned that the Benjamin Franklin monument is very slippery and that getting on a subway train while soaking wet is a freezing cold terrible idea.

I don't know why I eat the way I do.
Slipping into a local diner and sharing an order of fries, Jason looked perplexed when I quit eating halfway through.  When he asked why I answered without thinking, "Those ones don't have ketchup on them."  Only then did I realize I had that little oddity.  I pour ketchup all over the top of my fries and quit eating as soon as the ketchup-ed fries are gone.

Any place can be interesting.
Several times Jason's work took him to Killeen, TX, and I'd meet him down there.   Killeen, TX, is to pawn shops what Washington D.C. is to water fountains.  Aside from the military base there is no reason to go there.  South of Killeen, however, is Georgetown, TX, and a beautiful bed and breakfast with rooms in the carriage house.  Heading north halfway to my home in Iowa you'll find Wichita, KS-also a very boring city.  But if you're their on the right night you'll witness the most incredible lightening storm and then have the adventure of getting stuck in flash flooding.

Criminals can look just like you and me.
Jason always told me his older brother had been exiled from the country for bank embezzling.  Once while on a country drive he nonchalantly asked if I'd ever done anything illegal and then told me the details of his entrepreneurial side business producing fake credit cards for teenagers.  One of the last times I saw him he got notice that he was to have a meeting at the Pentagon and shortly after that a letter letting me know he wouldn't be contacting me anymore.  Either the most elaborate "Hey, I don't want to see you anymore" I've ever received, or a guy who got himself into some big trouble.  I'm still leaning towards the later.

And that's a shame.  I will forever look back on that relationship as one of the truest and most free of my lifetime.  The adventures we had and experiences I gained still make my happy heart leap.  We all need that one moment in time where the person we're with and the places we are fit magically into place and continue making us feel giddy, happy, goofy, and free no matter how it ended or where it led.

Now you're heard mine, so tell me, when were your "fountain days?" 

The Devil Hates You

That's what my husband said to me last night.  I had just told him I was really unhappy and felt like I was being punished for 15 years of selfish decisions.  He saw it differently.  This is what he had to say:

We have two incredible children.  The older is brilliant and funny and incredibly hard to lead.  He lives life with complete emotion and isn't easily swayed to do what he knows is wrong.  The younger brought to earth the joy of heaven and a smile that can brighten even the darkest day.  They are both supported by the love of their Heavenly Father and my role is to raise them righteously.  As strong as they are, they will still need a mother who can teach them how to love and serve and rely on the powers of the Atonement in hopes of returning to live with their Father in Heaven.

The devil is aware.  He knows the struggle it's going to be to get at my children and attacks the target he sees as weak.  That's me.

"...and he shall wear out the saints of the most High..."-Daniel 7:25

A few weeks ago I read an enlightening commentary on the Devil as Accuser.  The author described Satan as the one who incites us to sin and then stands by to remind us, accuse us, and taunt us about every thing we have ever done wrong.  My husband equated the devil to "The Big Tattle-Tale." When he stands before God and brags about the terrible we are doing, the Lord turns away without giving his words one moment of thought.  Not to be rebuked, though, the devil retreats and returns to working on an audience more receptive to his message.

"And the dragon was wroth with the woman, and went to make war with the remnant of her seed, which keep the commandments of God, and have the testimony of Jesus Christ."-Revelations 12:17

It became clear to me after reading this article and doing my own study of the scriptures that Satan is after the righteous.  He has nothing to gain from a person living a life less than that.  That is the point my husband, last night, was making.  As I try to follow the commandments of God and raise my boys to make righteous choices, the devil attacks me.  He gets afraid of losing ground and when I don't make it easy for him he sends his minions to surround me with a constant barrage of evil thoughts, self doubt, and thoughts of giving in to make sure that he wins in the end.

"Submit yourselves, therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you...For I reckon that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us...that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."-James 4:7, Romans 8:18,38-39

My night and conversation with my husband did not end with a great lightening of worries and cares; the devil's stronghold is hard to break.  But I was able to get out of bed this morning knowing that I have a new opportunity each day to access the blessings of the Savior's Atonement for me. The Devil may hate me, but the Lord has not given up on me.  He will protect me, and my boys, until that day when I can once again stand before Him full of humility and account that I tried my hardest with the life that was given to me.  

In My Heart On Thursday

"One of our sons was spending a few days incarcerated in a local facility to 'pay his debt to society.'  As I looked at his sorrowful countenance behind that glass wall, my heart nearly broken, I only wished I had held and rocked that baby boy.  I couldn't, as hard as I tried, think of a specific time when I had held him on my lap and kissed his head, face, and ears and held him close to my heart.

I had washed that boy, scolded him for misdeeds, sent him to school, even taken pictures of him, but I couldn't remember putting my lips next to his ear and whispering tender, loving, happy words that might have echoed in his memory when he needed them.  When my arms couldn't get to him through that terrible glass barrier, I wanted to remember how it felt to hold him and I wanted him to remember how it felt to be held and loved by his mother.

So, if I could go back, I would hold and rock and sing and whisper love to my child every single day."

                                                                      -Excerpt from Delta, Utah, Ensign Magazine, July 1996

A Child, Alone

From time to time we hear on the news how a parent or guardian has abandoned their child. This summer in Salt Lake there were several different accounts of parents locking their kids in the car and running off to run errands or catch a movie while their child overheated in the vehicle-sometimes leading to fatal extremes. Other times we hear of children being dropped off and left or a child who's parents leave and never come home. Fortunately, in most circumstances, we don't feel a personal connection to those stories. This week, however, I caught a small glimpse into the eyes of my own child and was remarkably saddened to think of the little boy or girl who's parents walk away. Monday is my cleaning day. Last Monday Beck was playing and I was trying to do the laundry. We live in a basement apartment and our laundry room is upstairs on the landlord's back porch. I almost always throw Beck on top of the dirty clothes in the clothes basket and tote him up to the washer & dryer with me, but this particular moment he was content with what he was doing and I knew I wasn't going to be long. I ran up the stairs to switch my laundry loads and hurried back to the stairs as quickly as I could. As I came around the corner and started down the stairs my eyes fell upon Beck waiting for me at the bottom. His blond curls on his tiny head were leaning out the door, his big eyes were sparkling, and he wore a humongous grin. I chuckled out loud as I hurried down to scoop him up and give him a big hug. He knew I had gone and trusted that I would be right back. He knew he wasn't allowed to go up the stairs without me, so he excitedly waited at the bottom to see me reappear. That's exactly what the faith of a child teaches us to do. As I hugged Beck and we walked back inside I began to think about stories I'd heard recently of children being abandoned for both long and short periods of time. Every child is born with faith to trust the people who love and take care of them. Tears began to well up as I imagined the faces of innocent children, with the same trust in their eyes, watching their loved ones walk away and anticipating their speedy return. I want to know how long children stay where they are before their lips begin to quiver and they start to wonder what happened to mommy and daddy. My heart aches to think of Beck waiting so long that he falls asleep in the middle of the doorway or gets bored and goes back to his toys until gets hungry, or thirsty, or needs his diaper changed. I'm getting better at putting Beck down for his afternoon nap and leaving him there whether he falls asleep or not. I know he needs time to wind down and be quiet and rest-and quite frankly, I need that too. It was hard at first to listen to him cry and call, "Mommy," but I know it's best for him and after a few days we developed an understanding that after he had rested, Mommy would come back to get him up. It still breaks my heart to hear him crying and I peek in on him from time to time to make sure he's not just staring at the door, but usually he quickly finds his monkeys and puppies and lays down to have a quiet conversation with them before succumbing to a good long nap. I imagine that most children, if left long enough, will find themselves asleep and resting. I can't imagine having my child wake up and not have someone come in shortly to pick him up and tell him that he's loved. I don't want to know how a child entertains themselves until somebody happens to come looking for them. That brings to mind, too, the stories we sometimes hear of children saving their parents by calling 911 or, more sadly, not being able to help a parent who has a medical emergency and loses consciousness or even dies with only a child there to watch. What a sad thing to see your parent not responding or able to get up and help you in anyway. I'm thinking of one story in particular where the mother had passed out and her young child, after not being able to get mommy's attention, curled up on the floor next to her and fell asleep. Somebody stopped by hours later and found the two of them laying on the living room floor-sleeping child wrapped in the arms of her mother who had passed away. Our children love and trust us and for that we can be eternally grateful. Ben and I watched the Italian movie Life is Beautiful this weekend. I had never seen it and was a little surprised when he recommended it with such high praise. I'm truly glad he did. It has given me thoughts and emotions to act as a balance against these sad thoughts swirling around in my head. The movie takes place in WWII Italy and involves an Italian woman and a Jewish man who marry and have a child together. The man is quite creative and spontaneous and a little ridiculous and it's fun to watch them courting and beginning their little family. Then he and his son are taken and put onto train cars bound for Hitler's abhorrent concentration camps. In a touching way, the plot twists for a moment while the woman becomes the character wearing her heart on her sleeve and insists on riding on the train wherever it is going. The love of this man for his son was overwhelming. From the moment they were taken his only desire was to protect his son from fear and the awful reality of what was happening. They were suffering greatly, but his son did not need to know. The man continued to be creative and spontaneous and went from being ridiculous to being brave. His son did have moments of fear and doubt and sadness, but his father determined to be there for him every step of the way. Even while taking his last march, the man's focus and goal was on his family and getting them through the horror so they could once again see the color and light and blessing of life. Most parents I know would give everything to protect their children from harm and evil. I don't know anybody heartless enough to turn and walk away from the loving upturned eyes of their children. On the contrary, I'm blessed to have people like my sister Brooke and my sisters-in-law Callie and Angie, who embody the spirit and action of the Jewish man in Life is Beautiful. In their everyday lives they are full of life and creativity and sometimes are just a little bit ridiculous. They are inspiring (and a little bit intimidating) and show me a better way to be. Children are an incredible blessing. Having a family and raising my own child is an incredible blessing to me. My prayers are filled with hope and love for anybody who is suffering, but especially for the lonely child who is wondering when their parent is going to come back home.