Lessons from the Pressure Cooker

I have created my own pressure cooker.  Family, school (work), Master's degree, and life.  Not much of life in there, I am pretty busy.  Oh yeah, now I am the Gospel Doctrine Sunday School teacher at church.  Did I mention I took on teaching Calculus for the first time this year?

Because time is scarce, I am having to prioritize what I do.  I am seriously getting tired of doing Sam Houston State University work every weekend.  I think I have forgotten how to play.  The fact that sometimes I feel I have put enjoying life with my kids that grow up so fast is another problem.  Goal:  take the family to Walt Disney World/Land after I graduate next August!

Here is what I have known are important in the list of my priorities, but being busy has intensified my commitment to each of these:

1.  There is always time to study the scriptures.  I cannot afford being without the inspiration, focus, and companionship with the Holy Ghost that comes each time I read.   My day always goes better when I start it with scripture study.

2.  There is always time to prayer, both personal and family.  Personal prayer refocuses myself, and it is where I always feel my Heavenly Father's love if I really take the time to listen.  Family prayer is our family's foundation.  Daily prayer seems small, but like a small drop of water, it can create amazing changes when collected over time.

3.  My husband is my companion, and love of my life.  It is so easy to get pulled in to all of the "have to's"  that it becomes easy to ignore our relationship.  Relationships with those we love must always be nurtured.  You can't fix an argument with someone that you don't know.  Daily, I must find some way to let my husband know I love him in ways that he can understand and needs.

4.  My children will not stay young forever.  They grow so fast.  Although I am very busy, when I get a request for hide and seek or to swing on the swingset with them, I can't ever turn them down.  Those requests are opportunities to listen to and love my children.  It is hard enough for the little guys to understand and open up about their own problems.  But after a game of tag or Bennie Ball (decription another day!)  conversations happen.  Dinner time together has the same effect.

My college work will be over in August.  I just hope I remember these lessons for life.

Time for Blueberries

Moorehead Farms is about 1 hour and 15 minutes away.  If you time it just right, they have delicious you-pick blueberries bursting from the trees.  All you have to do to get $2/lb berries is to reach up, touch the plump blue berries, and they fall into the bucket below.


http://www.moorheadsblueberryfarm.com/

I suppose I am spoiled.  Growing up in Seattle, we had fruits available all over.  I suppose blackberries were never sold at a nursery, they were very prolific (and tasty) weeds. Crisp, juicy apples the size of a softball were sold on street corners.  As a grade-schooler, we would go on walks with my dad and siblings when we were young and find blueberries in the woods.  All fruits were, and are, my favorite.  I suppose blueberries are so great to me because it reminds me of those walks with my dad.

So now I live in Texas, not the blueberry capital of the world.  Home of the $2.50 half pint of blueberries (and blackberries!).  Once in a while, I would splurge and buy some for a batch of blueberry muffins or pancakes, knowing that no one else in my house would like them, except for me and my husband.  How excited I was two years ago to learn of this precious farm.  Acres and acres of blueberries just waiting for me to pick them.

Two years ago I brought my boys with me.  They were four and seven.  We brought a friend of mine and her four kids.  We went a little too early in the season, and a little too late in the day. With sweat dripping down our backs, the picking was slim.   I think we each came away with maybe five pounds each, and within 1/2 hour we were all hot and tired.  Overall, it was fun, but it was a lot of work.

This year I was able to go again.  I was going to get up early and make it there by 7 am when it opened.  The boys were convinced it would be fun.  My husband was on a trip, so I had to take them, regardless, and was willing to take them, happy or not, because I love blueberries so much.  Happy or not did not happen, because Jerry came home early and the boys were able to sleep in.  So, by 6 am I was on the road, by myself, to pick blueberries.  I knew I could pick a bunch without the distraction of the boys.

I arrived at 7:30.  Already the parking was full.  As I and my bucket heading in the recommended direction,  I realized there were people on every row.  I picked a row that looked somewhat uninhabited and began to pick, thinking how wonderful the blueberries would taste, but missing my boys.

Sounds of happy conversations floated above the branches.  "She is just 3 months old."  "Don't eat so many blueberries or we will have to have them weigh you." "How long can you stay to visit?"  "Here, take our picture."  I was getting a lot of blueberries, but missed my boys.

I missed the happy laughter, the searching for the perfect spot of blueberries, purple mouths, taking them to the bathroom when it was most inconvenient, losing a child (almost) in the rows of bushes, sharing my thoughts and feelings with my friend.  Once again, I was reminded how quickly time passes and children grow.  I wanted to have everyone in the blueberry field freeze and realize that that particular moment will never happen again.   How grateful I have been for this realization, and for the realization that a blueberry is more than just a blueberry.  It is a medium that allows us to bond, feel, love, laugh, and share. Thank you, Dad, for Sunday afternoon walks in the woods.

Shoes and Fruits

Sunday, I went to church.  Every Sunday I go to church.  Every Sunday when my youngest, six years old now, wakes up, he asks "Is it church or school?"  I say "church."  He says "Noooo, I don't want to go."

Yesterday, Sunday, was particularly hard.  My goal is to get to church ten minutes early to get everyone settled and listening to the prelude.  Since our meeting switched to 8:30 this year, I think I have made it early once or twice.  Yes, it is May, the end of May.

I was excited at 8:00 because I was ready, my boys were dressed and fed.  All we needed to do was put on shoes, brush teeth, and say family prayer.  To be early, we needed to leave by 8:05.

Shoes are my anathema.  Definition of anathema (courtesy of Dictionary.com): 

a·nath·e·ma

   noun, plural a·nath·e·mas.

1.

a person or thing detested or loathed: That subject is anathema to him.

2.

a person or thing accursed or consigned to damnation or destruction.

3.

a formal ecclesiastical curse involving excommunication.

4.

any imprecation of divine punishment.

5.

a curse; execration.

 Pick any one of those definitions.  They all fit.  You see, I cleaned my house really well on Saturday.  My oldest boy (eight, almost nine years old) has some brand new shoes.  He only had one on Saturday.  We could not find the other.  Since, my house was clean, even under the couch clean, I knew exactly where it was NOT--in the house.  When we are ready to go ANYWHERE, it is almost always the shoes that prevent timeliness.  You would think I would learn and prepare!

Unfortunately for me, I had forgotten that little tidbit of information until 8:05 Sunday morning.  We looked all over the clean house for fifteen minutes.  It became a colorful experience.  Colorful, because I was able to observe my actions completely while I colorfully lost my temper.  No cuss words were used, but I believe that if I could paint my emotions, they would begin pale blue and green, and end in the colors orange, red, and black by the time we got in the car at 8:20 with the old yucky shoes.  

Even my husband was a target. He does not go to church.  For the past 23 years I have been the one to get up each morning, face the task of preparing and taking my children to church.  Maybe for three of those year he has sporadically gone.  I have lived with it, on occasion trying to convince him of the virtues of going to church as a family.  Pick any part of the previously described color scale.  I have used all tactics.  Most of the time I just know that he has to make the choice, and that I can only control my choices and how I raise my children.  We have had a kind of understanding--except Sunday.  It all came out.


So, the twenty minute drive involved a lot of calming and apologizing.  I was upset, my boys were upset.  The older was picking on the younger.  The younger was crying.. I was trying to drive.  Then, I realized that it all started with my temper, it could finish with my apologies.  In twenty minutes, we would be at church, and if it was delayed because of announcements and church business, taking the Sacrament, like we do at the beginning of every meeting.  

The sacrament is where we renew the promises made at baptism.  The promises include keeping God's commandments, always remember Jesus Christ, and take upon us Christ's name, meaning we will live as he would.  In return, we are promised to have his Spirit to be with us.


The Holy Ghost, or the Spirit, does not have a tangible body.  This is so we can feel the Spirit and know he is there (John 3: -8).  The Spirit does not have to tarry.  In fact, he will not tarry in times of contention.  I know from personal experience.  To have the Spirit with me always, I must be living my life in accordance with the principles taught by the Savior.  I need to be in appropriate places.  It also helps to pray and read my scriptures daily.  Those seem to be Spirit intensive moments where I can feel the Spirit and learn how it feels to have him there and can remember that feeling so I can seek it throughout the day.

The feeling of the Spirit, the fruits of the spirit, is as "earnest," or a foretaste of the joy of eternal life (2 Corinthians 1:22; 2 Corinthians 5:5; Ephesians 1:14).  It is an amazing feeling.  Sometimes it is a peaceful thought, sometimes a feeling so strong that tears come to my eyes.  I always want more when I feel it.   Love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, and temperance are the fruits of the Spirit.  




I was not sure I could be ready to feel worthy to partake of the Sacrament and to feel the Spirit, but I knew that I had to try.  My boys also needed to know how to resolve conflicts.  So, the apologies began.  I apologized and told them how much I loved them.  I told them how I should have handled things differently.  Teddy calmed down.  Alex calmed down.  


I also apologized to my husband.  My actions were completely misplaced.  Bringing up the church issue at that time was not the right time.  When we arrived at church I sent an apology to Jerry via text message.  We walked into church.  


The Sacrament had started.  The doors to the chapel were closed.  We sat on the sofa to wait until it was finished, finally calm, finally ready.  

The doors opened and a young man came out with a Sacrament tray.  It was the bread.  We had not missed the Sacrament.  We all partook of the bread, then the water, renewed our covenants to try again for the next week, until the next opportunity for the Sacrament, to be like the Savior and keep His commandments. 


You know what?  We were able to feel of the Spirit then, and also throughout the remainder of church.  If heaven is any part of what we feel, I will be happy to continue to try, shoes and all.

Praying for Shoes

After work Friday, at the end of the school day, there was an announcement that all Sophomore sponsor teachers were to go down to the front office.  I am a Sophomore class sponsor.  My duties for the year involve being a chaperone at the Sweetheart dance in the Spring.  It was canceled this year because there were not enough tickets sold.  So, down to the office I went.

In the office, one of our assistant principals was sitting there with a list of the Junior and Senior sponsors, the list of Sophomore sponsors, and the sign up sheet for those sponsors to help with Prom the next day.  The sign up sheet was not full.  I knew what was coming next.

Sure enough, she said that since the Sweetheart dance had been canceled and we had not helped out all year that Sophomore sponsors were to help with Prom the next evening and which 10 pm - midnight job did I want?

I have been working on trying to get to church at least 10 minutes early and to prepare myself and my family for the Sabbath and partaking of the Sacrament by completing our Saturday work early enough so we can be more focused, prepared, and rested for the Sabbath.  So far, we have been on time and not as rushed.

This weekend that was going to be particularly difficult because I also had a twelve page max, with APA references, final research paper due in one of my graduate classes on the following Monday.  I had started it, but with the intent that the majority of the work would be done early Saturday morning, and also in the evening after the boys went to sleep.

I have not been doing school work on Sunday.  I promised myself when I started college that Sundays were just for church, Sabbath activities, and spending time with my family without the obstruction of school work.  Attending prom was going to add more complexity to the impending assignment and make me very tired for the Sabbath.

Reluctantly, without peace in my heart, I signed up for the King and Queen voting table from 10 - 12 at prom.  My boys ride a bus to meet me at the high school after school, so I collected them from my classroom and headed out to the car, and not realizing, and not caring when I finally noticed, that they were walking through the grass and parking lot in just their socks.  I was focused on my unhappiness with the prom thing.  Unnoticed by me, they had taken off their shoes in my classroom and put them in their backpacks.

Saturday evening came.  I had spent more of the day than I like working on research.  I love to play with my boys, but had to send them off to play more than I cared to.  They did little things to each other (not good things) to get my attention.  They just wouldn't go to bed by themselves with me working on my paper (surprise).  I finally settled down with them on the couch so they could fall asleep watching TV with me and my computer between them.

After putting his head on my lap between me and my laptop, my kindergartener finally fell asleep.  Not my eight year old boy.  Nine o'clock came and he was still awake.  It takes about 10 minutes for me to get ready and twenty minutes to get to Lake Jackson and the prom.  I still had time and finally told him that he had to sleep because I had to go to prom.  He started to cry.  He didn't want me to leave.  I laid on the bed with him until I thought he was asleep, then got up, only to hear him cry out.  It was 9:30.  I went and got ready anyway, telling him I would get ready while he laid on my bed.  At 9:45, he was still sad, but more willing to lay down by his father.

 As I was about to leave, he said, will you say family prayer with me?  Who could resist something like that?  My heart was touched.  We said prayer, then he went and laid down by hid dad.

The next day, at 7 am, I awoke for church, procrastinated a bit, then got busy getting myself and everyone ready.  By 8:00, the boys were bathed (their dad got them to do that) and dressed, except for shoes. I had some problems printing a matching paper for the Primary class I was teaching.  After messing with things for a bit, I decided to just copy it from the manual at church.  The boys just needed shoes.  I looked at the clock, saw it was 8:15 and thought we could just get shoes on in the car on the way, since it was in Lake Jackson, fifteen minutes away.  The younger boy's shoes were in the closet.  Teddy's were gone.  I then we remembered we had looked all over the house on Saturday, and I had just made him wear his flip flops since we couldn't find them.  On time to church, much less early, was becoming a dream.

My oldest boy would not wear his old shoes that were in the closet.  He insisted, not too calmly, on looking all over the house again.  Under beds.  In closets.  In the back yard.  In the garage.  Nothing.  I finally left the old shoes by the front door, and went to the car to wait, frustrated.

Finally, he came out and calmly got in the car.  As soon as he closed the door, he announced, "Now I know where my shoes are!  In my backpack!"  We opened the back of the car to get out his backpack, opened it up, and found his shoes!  I gave them to him, began to pull out of the driveway, set to now be five to ten minutes LATE for church, and he said, "I knew I would find them.  I said a prayer."

I am so grateful that he is understanding the power of prayer.  It is amazing the faith of children.  I am so grateful that things that I have been trying to teach can be reflected back, and that my children are listening.  I am even more grateful for a Heavenly Father that works through the Holy Ghost to give us promptings, and that He loves each of us so much that he will even answer the prayer of an eight year old boy looking for his shoes.  I am good with being late.

Life by the Inch

Here are some excerpts from President Monson's talk in April 2012 Conference that touched my heart.  The are some things that we all can live by--myself included.

"Precious young women, make every decision you contemplate pass this test: 'What does it do to me? What does it do for me?' And let your code of conduct emphasize not 'What will others think?' but rather 'What will I think of myself?' Be influenced by that still, small voice. Remember that one with authority placed his hands on your head at the time of your confirmation and said, 'Receive the Holy Ghost.' Open your hearts, even your very souls, to the sound of that special voice which testifies of truth. As the prophet Isaiah promised, 'Thine ears shall hear a word … saying, This is the way, walk ye in it.'³ "

"Life by the yard is hard; by the inch it’s a cinch. Each of us can be true for just one day—and then one more and then one more after that—until we’ve lived a lifetime guided by the Spirit, a lifetime close to the Lord, a lifetime of good deeds and righteousness. The Savior promised, 'Look unto me, and endure to the end, and ye shall live; for unto him that endureth to the end will I give eternal life.'⁶

For this purpose have you come into mortality, my young friends. There is nothing more important than the goal you strive to attain—even eternal life in the kingdom of your Father."

Life is hard if we look at the overall picture.  Keeping faith is hard if we look at all of the things that others are doing.  I can testify that faith comes bit by bit.  Sometimes I have to make myself do the right thing, not because I want to, necessarily, but because I have the faith that there are good leaders that have been placed in positions at church that have been directing me in what to do.  It is after making the good choice that I gain the faith and think "Oh...that is why."  I also cannot believe that I almost chose the other way.  My faith is built, my knowledge is built, so the next time, hopefully, the same choice come along it is not hard to choose.

I like his statement that "each of us can be true for just one day."  That is a great way to look at it.

How Conference Has Impacted My Life

I am almost finished watching all of the talks from the April 2012 Conference of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latterday Saints.  It has been wonderful.  As I have listened to them and watched one talk each day, I have been prompted, uplifted, and reminded of the wonderful blessings of a Heavenly Father that loves me.

Starting this is the result of a prompting I felt in the talk by Elder Neil L. Anderson.  It was about the time when he said "Miracles are not always so immediate. At times we thoughtfully wonder why the miracle we have so earnestly prayed for does not happen here and now. But as we trust in the Savior, promised miracles will occur. Whether in this life or the next, all will be made right. The Savior declares: 'Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”³¹ “In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.'" 

His quote didn't say to write a blog, but during that part of his talk, I was reminded of another talk during that conference by Elder Paul B. Peiper (To Hold Sacred).  He said, "Daily reflecting upon and recording the impressions that come from the Spirit serve the dual purposes of helping us (1) to recognize our personal encounters with the divine and (2) to preserve them for ourselves and our posterity. Recording them is also a formal recognition and acknowledgment of our gratitude to God, for “in nothing doth man offend God, or against none is his wrath kindled, save those who confess not his hand in all things” (D&C 59:21)."

And then, last night I was reading Alma 37 with the boys.  There, Alma instructs Helaman in the importance of keeping the commandments so he can keep the records that he has given to him.  He also tells him of the sacredness and importance of these records.  I started thinking about the importance of records.  If the Book of Mormon can inspire so many, hopefully, my testimony can at least inspire my family.

I love my family so much.  I have been blessed.