LDS Church Little Inconsistencies and Repetitions

I've been contemplating a lot about church history lately, being prompted by people on all sides to look more in depth at my own personal beliefs.  My friend did our Sunday School lesson this week and began with this quote:

"The most important prophet, so far as we are concerned, is the one who is living in our day and age. This is the prophet who has today's instructions from God to us today. God's revelation to Adam did not instruct Noah how to build the ark. Every generation has need of the ancient scripture plus the current scripture from the living prophet. Therefore, the most crucial reading and pondering which you should do is of the latest inspired words from the Lord's mouthpiece." Ezra Taft Bensen

It struck me quickly and close to home because a lot of the arguments it seems people have come from getting caught up in the little inconsistencies presented throughout the history of the church.  Because God is unchangeable, people think this should not be happening in his one true church.

However, the church is being run by imperfect people on this earth.  Mistakes are made.  Even by apostles and prophets.  They are good men, but they are still men, and imperfect.  They act as God's mouthpiece and lead the church to the best of their abilities.  But as Elder Holland recently said: 

"Except in the case of His only perfect Begotten Son, imperfect people are all God has ever had to work with. That must be terribly frustrating to Him, but He deals with it. So should we. And when you see imperfection, remember that the limitation is not in the divinity of the work. As one gifted writer has suggested, when the infinite fulness is poured forth, it is not the oil’s fault if there is some loss because finite vessels can’t quite contain it all.¹⁰ Those finite vessels include you and me, so be patient and kind and forgiving."

 Recently, I began reading a manual I've had since college institute classes on eternal marriage.  I was reading in the preface and didn't expect to be taught about this subject by a manual on marriage, but here's the quote that pertains to the subject:

"One of the keys to recognizing council to warn us from sin and sorrow is that they are repeated. For instance, more than once in these general conferences, you have heard our prophet say that he would quote a preceding prophet and would therefore be a second witness and sometimes even a third...The Apostle Paul wrote that 'in the mouth of two or three witnesses shall every word be established' 2 Cor. 13:1. One of the ways we know that the warning is from the Lord is that the law of witnesses, authorized witnesses, has been invoked. When the words of the prophets seem repetitive, that should rivet our attention and fill our hearts with gratitude to live in such a blessed time." Eternal Marriage Student Manual, preface, viii

I couldn't count how many times I've heard complaints about hearing the same old thing over and over at church, and this includes myself.  Some people may feel their eyes glaze as they think, "Well, I've heard this before.  I already know what this guy is talking about."  But according to this, repetition should get our attention even more and fill us with more urgency about whatever the subject is being repeated.  Especially if it's coming from a general authority during conference weekend again.

Anyone else notice a repetition in this past conference?  I'm sure there were many more, but the one that stuck out most to me was a quote I'd heard before many times and it first (as far as I can see) appeared in this talk in 2000 entitled The Joy of Womanhood, and then again quoted in this past 2013 conference talk entitled The Moral Force of Women:

"Women of God can never be like women of the world. The world has enough women who are tough; we need women who are tender. There are enough women who are coarse; we need women who are kind. There are enough women who are rude; we need women who are refined. We have enough women of fame and fortune; we need more women of faith. We have enough greed; we need more goodness. We have enough vanity; we need more virtue. We have enough popularity; we need more purity."

I think this is becoming more and more needed in our world, as social culture moves more and more into this worldly definition of a woman.   The world tells us to be tough, coarse, rude, famous, greedy, vain, and popular.  I see it more and more, and it often makes women in Hollywood do desperate things to gain that image.  But this image in no way give happiness to that woman seeking it.  A happy woman seeks to be tender, kind, refined, faithful, good, virtuous, and pure.  This is the way to true happiness.

Drawing Parallels

I was reading in 1 Nephi again, and in chapter 18 is when Nephi is building the ship.  It's a story I've heard countless times but this time I somehow read it differently.  It's such a beautiful thing when something you've seen in the scriptures again and again suddenly becomes new to you in a personal way.  I think it's the nature of truth and perception.

The timing of these new revelations are always just right too.  God knows me.

I read Chapter 18 as follows (subbing in the words that were given to me by the spirit.  Go here for the actual scripture.  "And the Lord did show me from time to time after what manner I should work the [matters of my home].  Now I [Danielle] did not work [my home] after which was learned by men, neither did I build [my home] after the manner of men; but I did build it after the manner which the Lord had shown unto me; wherefore, it was not after the manner of men.  And I [Danielle], did go into the mount [or my private corners] oft, and I did pray unto the Lord; wherefore the Lord showed unto me great things.  And it came to pass that after I had finished..., according to the word of the Lord, my brethren beheld that it was good, and that the workmanship thereof was exceedingly fine; wherefore, they did humble themselves again before the Lord."

So the words "my home" are vaguely part of the concept I was given while I was reading.  It's strange how language works below the level of the spirit.  The words "my home" don't adequately describe the feeling I was having to represent what it is I am building.  So I thought I would elaborate for the sake of my memory and whoever reads this might get something from it.

Building a home: also, raising my children, living my life, being my best, serving others, changing the future, influencing the world

Yeah...it's a little bigger then just building my home.

The most important part that hit me, however was not this.  It was the council I was getting from this scripture.

"The Lord did show me from time to time after what manner I should [continue]."
and
"I did go unto the mount oft, and I did pray unto the Lord; wherefore the Lord showed unto me great things."

Now this could mean go into the temple often, as well as praying often every day.  I believe it meant both.  I know that when I pray daily...and multiple times a day, I am helped in everything I do during that day.  I am given the tools I need.  I'm given more patience with my children.  I'm given more joy in my duties.

So the milk spilled all over the carpet this morning isn't that big a deal.  If I pray.

And the temple is something I really want to develop a better habit in.  It's our 8th anniversary today.  Jimmy and I went to the temple on Saturday to celebrate.  It was incredibly busy and we didn't get into the session.  We decided to do sealings instead because we wanted to go to dinner afterward.  I was a bit let down because they have supposedly done a new presentation to show and I was excited to see it.  But we plan to try going again this weekend and I'm excited to try to go more often.  Because I do believe it would help me to be more positive as I've been trying to do.

Putting the Lord First

As I said in the last post, things have been rougher over the last month and I couldn't exactly put my finger one what changed since Christmas.  I know, we have been sick and then better and sick again, but it's been more then that to me.  I've just not been as happy or as focused on good things.

Then this weekend I stayed home from church feeling sick and thought to myself that I would still try to think about spiritual things anyway while my family attended church.  But I didn't do much but watch a TV show that was completely unrelated to spiritual things, and quite worldly actually.  At the time I rationalized, but later in the evening I was feeling guilty and sad because I knew I had given up on something better during that day.

The next day, I was still brooding over the way I felt.  I hadn't really be "in touch" like I was before Christmas and I wasn't sure what it was, but I kept wondering to myself if I needed to eliminate watching TV shows like the one I mentioned above altogether.  I kept questioning whether it was really something I should allow, or if it was bad "enough" which I hate thinking about.

I hate looking at everything in the media and trying to figure out what is really too bad or what isn't that bad or what is good enough or really good.  When something is really good, it's obvious and same with when it's really bad.  But the majority of the fun things to indulge in around me are things that are good and enjoyable, but still worldly.  I want to be uplifted, and sometimes I think I am.  But then why was I feeling like this?

I started talking to my husband about the way I felt while we made dinner together that evening.  Then finally it hit me.  It wasn't about whether or not the show was "good enough" or "wasn't that bad", it is about my priorities.  It's about if I am giving up something way better for something that is only "not that bad".  (Like that conference talk not too long ago...Good, Better, Best?)  I realized that what was bothering me was that I hadn't put the Lord first on the Lord's day.  I had shut Him out, and done everyday things.  Yes, I was sick, but it was still the Sabbath.  And if I don't treat the Sabbath as the Sabbath, when else am I going to give Him that quality time?

I took myself into my bedroom to pray.  Of course, the moment I knelt down there was that little passing thought saying "You don't have to pray, He knows already.  Don't waste your time."  But I prayed anyway, and I said I was sorry.  The results from this prayer brought me back to where I want to be.  The spirit returned into my heart and I felt the love in the Lord's forgiveness.  I also felt His approval for these types of activities as long as they aren't taking the place of greater things: like taking care of my family and enriching my spirituality.  Those things should come first.

At that point, I also realized that I had been slacking off on things that I had previously been feeling so passionate about.  I must return to the habit of praying first thing in the morning.  If I put the Lord first in my day, it's easier for me to remember to put Him first throughout the day.  I find myself putting down the Facebook on my phone to read a book to my kids, or playing a conference talk on my computer before turning on Pandora.

It's in those little things that I feel I either feel enriched and happy and spiritual and right or I start to feel blase and lose focus.  It's a very delicate balance in this busy world we live in.  But I am recommitting myself now to put the Lord first every day.

Getting Clarity of Thought

It's crazy how some inspirations come at the oddest moments where it seem like everything may just be random.  But in truth, it's all part of God's meticulous plan.  I am sitting in a very spiritual meeting when it dawns on me that my book could begin in a different way then I previously had written.  Ding!  Funny.

Next to that, I was thinking about how much praying vocally helps clarify things.  And even more, how much writing things down clarify things even more.  Keeping a journal is not just good advice, it's inspired advice.  It may be hard to begin writing down all the thoughts you have - even things you are ashamed of - but it is freeing and really clarifies things.  I mean, sometimes my thoughts can get all muddled and start going in circles until I sit down and just write it out.  Somehow, writing things down slows down your brain process enough to really give more meaning in the concepts.  And talking helps too.  Something about forming the words into some kind of language, instead of just letting the concepts whirl in your head, can really clarify everything.  Sometimes I am having really deep thoughts and I simply HAVE to call someone and talk about them before I explode.

Maybe I'm just strange that way.  But this makes good, trustworthy, nonjudgmental friends a necessity.  Usually I call my best friend and other times I call my mother.  Lately, I also have the ability to call someone I know strictly on a first name basis to keep anonymity and that really creates a new venue!  But I don't use it as often.  I'm blessed to have a good genuine connection with my best friend and mother, where there is no fear involved in admitting the worst part of myself without any kind of reprehension or repression.  I'm guessing I'm pretty blessed to have that, because the more that I see of the world the more I realize how lonely so many people are because of the people that push them away, or that they have pushed away....

Anyway, this post has too many tangents.  Can you tell I journal?  Haha!  Journalling is all about tangents because it's mainly stream-of-thought type writing.  Really gets those juices flowing so I can really write.

The point I was going to get to about writing things down and praying aloud, though, is this.  Where do you think that extra clarity comes from?  A philosophy teacher of mine would argue that language is everything.  Our words create meaning and we don't have any comprehension of specific concepts until we have the words to describe them.  I think this is in many cases true - as in the studies of the man without a language that was done, it shows this to be accurate (which is completely fascinating!), but I want to think more about the spiritual side of this idea.

Truth with a capital T comes from God.  People way say that truth is epistemic, or created by the knowledge of something.  But I believe in a truth beyond the knowledge of man.  God's knowledge.  Clarity of thought comes from within.  (Wow, this is getting deep!  Let me get to the point already!)  Where do we get God's knowledge to testify within our hearts of the truth of things?  From the Holy Ghost, from the power of the spirit of God.  The Holy Ghost can hear our thoughts and He knows the intents of our hearts, though.  So, why is it that when we write things down or speak them aloud we gain more clarity?

This is where things get a little more grey in the "doctrinal" side of things, and goes more toward my opinion and what I feel spiritually is true, for myself.  I believe that our ancestors, and other angels watching over us, are present when we are writing things down or praying aloud.  They cannot know the thoughts of our hearts.  But they can read our writing and they can hear us speak.

Have you ever felt like there's someone reading over your shoulder as you're writing?  I have.   :)

But they wouldn't be judging you for what you are writing.  They would be helping you feel of their presence and helping you feel that they understand.

Ok, this may seem too weird for some of you to understand or believe, but it's something that I take very seriously.  I know that writing and praying aloud help me find more clarity of thought.  The next time you have muddled thoughts, try writing them down.  Whether the angels are reading it or not, it's been recommended by all kinds of therapists too. :)

Lost Soul

This morning I woke up thinking about a moment years ago again.  I hadn't thought about this particular moment for quite some time now but it has haunted me for years on and off.  It was a moment when I felt I should approach someone and speak to him.  But I didn't.  I watched him ubruptly remove his button-up shirt in frustration, throw it in the back of his truck, and drive away.  I think I might have called to him because I felt the desire to talk to him build at that moment.  But it was too late and I let it slip away.  I never saw him again.

I think about him now and then.  I wonder where he is or what he has done with his life.  I wonder where he has ended up.  I had looked him up online before, but never was able to find anything.  He never was the big social media type I guess.

But this morning he came to my mind again and I thought I would try again to look him up online.  And there he was.  The mug shot made him look harsher and he has facial hair now.  The light has completely left his eyes and I couldn't help but cry.  Now he's a registered sex offender.  I have no idea what the circumstances were in his charges but it still made me so sad because of where he has ended up.

I wonder what kind of change I may have had if I had followed that prompting in that moment when he was leaving the parking lot in his truck. I think back and picture his face and I can imagine him thinking "I'm never coming back here.  Ever."  Maybe I could have given him the hope to return.  Maybe I wouldn't have made a difference at all.  Still, it made me feel so sad that I didn't do it when I had that opportunity.  When I felt that prompting.

But then I remembered a talk I heard or read once a long time ago and I wish I knew who said this, but I can't remember.  He said that God is aware of all of us.  He loves all of His children and would never make it so they had just that one shot.  He would always give them many chances to make good decisions or do what is right.  I was not this guy's one shot to being better.  This missed prompting of mine wasn't his only opportunity.  God is still aware of him.  It made me feel a little better.  I cannot blame myself.  But now I have a new perspective on people.  I don't think I ever have felt compassion for a registered sex offender before in my life!  But I do now.  It goes to show that even people who make dispicable mistakes are God's children.  That boy had a hard home life growing up.  I don't know what he had to go through but I witnessed its effects.  He could have been a good kid.  He could have turned into a good man.  My heart breaks for him and all I can do now is pray and hope that I can listen a little closer to those promptings from here on out.  This is the repentence I must do to let that moment go.

I will never forget the way he looked the last time I saw him.  I hope he gets the lights in his eyes again someday.  I really do.

Aware That the Lord Is Aware

On Friday, we decided to ride our bikes to school.  Jameson started kindergarten that week and it was the first day all week that didn't have the sun blaring down in scorching heat.  So we got our gear together (the littlies riding in my bike trailer) and rode our bikes to school.  Livin' the dream! :)  He left his little two-wheeler outside with the pile of bicycles from other kids and went in with an excited grin.  I have been so happy with the way he's transitioned to this new way of life.  Actually, yesterday his uncle asked him about how starting kindergarten felt and told him he saw his picture from his first day of school and he replied with, "Oh, that was back when I was little."  :)  A week ago.  Kindergarten really makes you grow up, I guess.

Anyway, in the afternoon, it started drizzling.  I knew it might be a little rainy that day but I would take riding my bike in the rain far over riding my bike in the scorching sun!  So I didn't let it bother me too much.  I left early to be sure I was there on time and rode in a slight drizzle.  But as soon as I got to the school, it came down in buckets.  We took shelter in between the front doors until it let up right before the bell rang for Jameson to get out of school.  (Good thing I left early, right?)  We then headed back for home.  By this time, Jimmy had texted me letting me know he got home early.  I texted back asking if he wanted to rescue us, but he missed the text somehow.  In any case, we didn't need rescuing, we were being watched over.  As soon as we made it home, strapped the younger littlies out of the bike trailer and got in the house, it came down again just as it had before.

Coincidence?

Well, I've been reading this book lately, Embracing Coincidence by Carol Lynn Pearson, in which she relays many small stories of ways the Lord can touch her life or teach her little lessons or give her reminders every day in just little synchronicities or coincidences.  Since I'd been reading her cute little stories, I thought this was one example in my own life of a tender mercy shown to me by the Lord.  I think these things are often taken for granted.  So many things happen every day without our noticing.  I decided to notice more often.  So I began paying attention more carefully after that.

We were leaving for the long holiday weekend to go visit my sister.  So we got everything ready and headed out about 5:30.  On the way out of town we saw a big hawk dive down in front of the car.  It was beautiful and daring.  Simply breathtaking.  I took note of it.  Later as we were nearing the freeway, it happened again!  Another hawk, a little larger then the first, dove down in front of the car in almost the exact fashion.  I thought, wow.  That's quite the synchronicity.  But I wasn't sure what the message behind these hawks might be.  Perhaps they were reminders for me to watch the road and drive carefully.  That thought felt boring to me, so I kept trying to think up some other reason these hawks were putting on their show.  Because then after we were on the freeway, we were stuck in traffic (and of course I didn't stress out about it- remember my last post?) because of an accident up ahead and there it was!  A third hawk was flying along to the left of our car in the stop and go traffic.  It would sore to a great height and just hover there in the air as though it were suspended on a string.  I sat in awe to watch it and was grateful for the moment to be stuck in traffic at a standstill so we could watch the hawk do its tricks.  Still, I wasn't sure what kind of message I could gain from this beautiful synchronicity, so I kept paying attention.

The rest of the trip went on normally.  We stopped to get sandwiches from Arby's for dinner, and continued on.  Before we knew it, the sun had gone down and we were getting off the freeway.  I went to the allotted corner and turned to drive down the little road out into the countryside next to the town.  My sister lived a short way out of town.  There's a little blue building along the way which has longtime memories for me.  My grandparents also live down this road an have for generations.  The little blue building is the electric building where my grandfather worked and I remember always pointing it out in my childhood when we were excited that we were nearly there after the long roadtrip.

As I was approaching the blue building, I suddenly felt a small panicky feeling inside that told me I was driving too fast.  I was still in "freeway mode" and had begun to speed so I looked down at the speedometer and began to slow carefully.  But in the next moment, I looked up and noticed a long trail of lights to my right a short distance away.  I was approaching the intersection where the blue building stood on the corner and a semi truck was coming fast on the road perpendicular to mine.  The feeling increased as I realized this truck was not slowing!  He was approaching his stop sign with as much speed as I was approaching my throughway.  I had already begun to slow, but I had no idea how I would be able to stop.  I know I made some kind of explanation as we neared the intersection but I can't remember what it was.  I only remember coming to a halt just in time to see the semi whip it's way past in front of us, and I still have no idea how I stopped in time.

I was melted to the seat with my heart throbbing in my toes and my throat choking on air.  Somehow, we were still alive and unharmed.  I inched at about 25 to 30 miles per hour the rest of the way, thanking the Lord we were ok.

In the moment, I could only think about the moment.  But afterward I was given more understanding.  In an event like this, every second counts.  If I hadn't noticed I was speeding and slowed down to begin with, it would have been too late.  My entire little family was in that vehicle and any other result...well, the very thought makes me cringe away and I cannot imagine.

I am so grateful for the awareness of the Lord in my life.  I know it wasn't just me.  The story doesn't end here.

Yesterday as we were getting ready to leave my sister's and head home, my youngest littlie and baby boy nudged a 4 by 6 mirror and it felt right on him, shattering to pieces.  I was calm, but my sister felt it necessary to take him in to be checked for glass and I agreed that it would be the best thing to do.  He only ended up with a few superficial scratches on his head, face, and hand.  They appear almost like cat scratches, but finer.  There was one wider mark on his head that they ex-rayed to be sure there was no glass and all was well.  We noticed later that he had been next to the coffee table and must have fell flat down and so the mirror hit the table first and broke there to shower him with bits of glass.  He he had been between the table and the mirror, it would have been much worse.  Again, I am so grateful it was the way it was.

My sister told me stories, and I'm sure anyone reading this has their own, of people who have died in random ways.  Getting caught in just the right way between two solid objects or hit in just the right spot to be fatal.  So it goes both ways.  We talk about how sometimes these sad circumstances that end in deaths are just such flukes it's incredible.  However, we are so fragile in this life!  The fluke isn't that any of us die, it is that we are all still alive!  That's the fluke!  In every day of our lives, in every moment, there are things that could kill us.  We are fragile beings in this world that are faced with close calls at every tern.  That may seem to sound kind of paranoid, but it's not.  Because I know the reason why I am still alive.  I know the reason why we are all kept alive in this world.  And that reason is because there is someone all-knowing and all-loving who is watching over us.  When it is our time to go, it will be our time.

I know my time wasn't yesterday.  I don't know when my time may be.  So for the moment, I am going to live in this fragile life in a way that I know I will be proud of and in a way I won't have regrets.  I'm going to forgive a little quicker.  I'm going to allow a little more.  I'm going to smile longer.  I'm going to hold my children closer.  Because every moment is a blessing.  And I am so grateful for the Lord's protection in these moments.

Painful Blessings

Some things I tried to understand simply cannot be understood until it's been experienced first hand.

About a week ago, I found out I was pregnant.  Again.  Now, for those who don't know, I have three little boys.  They are my life right now, whether I like it (most days I do) or not (which comes and goes).  My boys are ages 5, 3, and 1 at the moment.  My youngest turned one in May.

So, finding out I was pregnant wasn't the jump-for-joy kind of experience.  But, although logically I was thinking "Oh, here we go." and trying to talk myself into the reasons this was a good thing, I couldn't help feeling this little smile inside.  It was like a creeping feeling of happiness that I couldn't suppress even though I logically fought it and didn't want to tell anyone about it.  It just wasn't a good time, I kept telling myself.

Then a week went by of me keeping this little secret to myself and trying to grow used to it.  There was this secret little smile within me about this untimely blessing only I (and my husband) knew about.

I was also feeling mixed feelings of gratitude.  Because a cousin of mine recently had a tragic but beautiful circumstance in her own family where she was told at about 6 months pregnant that her baby had something called Trisomy 13, and her little growing beloved one would not live much past birth and most likely would be premature.  I had followed her story over the last couple weeks, my heart hurting for her.  The baby was born and was healthy enough for her to take this little angel home with her.  Her mother was there and wrote emails to my mother, which were forwarded to me.  I followed the story, holding my breath.  Each moment with that baby was a blessing for her.  I think about if this were me, and I would be afraid to sleep.  The baby, little Elsie Jubie Lee, lived for 10 days.  I couldn't make it to the funeral so I thought hard about how I could possibly show my support.  I ordered a beautiful picture of Christ holding a newborn and planned to frame it.  Then I also ordered a book called "Gone Too Soon" which has scriptural and spiritual comfort for those who have experienced miscarriage, stillborn, or the death of a new baby.  Before sending the book, I decided I would read through it in its entirety since it isn't so long.  I received the book shortly before I found out I was pregnant.  I read it for about a week, packaged it up as a gift, and sent it.

The next day, I miscarried.

And my little smile was gone.

All I can say, is the Lord knows me.  He knows me more then I know myself.

I had suspicious symptoms at a barbeque at a friend's house, but by the next morning it became more clear what was happening to me.  I lay in bed with my mind blank.  I kept asking myself how I felt and couldn't answer myself.  Until my husband asked if he should stay home with me that day and I began to cry.  All I could think is, "Oh.  This is how I feel."  Later that day, I went to the doctor to see on their screen the little sack where the baby should be and there was none.  I was told there was really nothing I did wrong.  99% of the time, it is something that went wrong with the cells and the fetus.  It was just not right.  I understood.

But what I couldn't understand was why I had to go through this.  Why did the Lord give me a pregnancy when I wasn't looking for one, and then take it away?  Why did He give me a blessing I wasn't certain I wanted only to take it away before I could realize how much I in fact wanted it?  I still don't know the answer the this question, but I do know one thing.  I have learned, and I have changed.

Before this, I took everything for granted.  Pregnancy was easy for me.  It was something that just happened.  I rode it like I was in a boat floating over waves without oars, relying on someone else to guide me safely, and being happy that way.  Now I realize what a miracle healthy pregnancy and childbirth really is.  I also have learned so much about sincere service.  So many people can try giving well-meaning advice or words of comfort that just plain ISN'T comforting.

I don't want to hear "They're in a better place." or "It just wasn't the right time."  I don't want to hear "Now you have a reason to try harder for Celestial glory." or "This baby was just an angel, not meant for life in this wicked world." or "One in five pregnancies end in miscarriage, so it's pretty common."

It might be a better place, but it's not with me.  I know it's not the right time, but why this "here you go, or not" thing?  I already was trying, and I didn't need another excuse to feel unworthy.  AND I believe every spirit son and daughter of God gets to live on this earth.   They all get a chance at life.  I don't understand where they are or what they will do, but God does.  And just because miscarriage is common, doesn't mean it's not INCREDIBLY heartbreaking and PAINFUL!  But all this aside, just stop it.

Words don't help anyway.

The week after this happened was like a single day.  Days just passed, and it forever felt like the miscarriage began yesterday.  I tried doing laundry and it lasted all week.  Time just passed.  I knew this was a sign of depression.  I attended a temple session where I slept through it (eyes open or shut).  Then my husband's birthday came and went, we celebrated the next day with dinner and a movie where I felt a little more normal, then it was my birthday and we went to visit family for a reunion.  By the end of that day, I felt outside my own body.  Maybe I didn't drink enough water.  Maybe it was the heat and wind.  Maybe it was just a combination of everything.  But I cried again on the way home.

I'm exhausted.  I'm physically so tired.  But I'm also tired of feeling this way.  I don't know how to feel better.  I want to just pick up and do things.  I try to stay busy, doing what I should, but if I'm honest with myself, all I want to do is lay on the couch all day and watch movies.  But I can't do that with these three small children climbing out, over, and through everything and their mothers.

So I clean.  And I hope to feel better.  And my heart goes out to those other mothers who experience miscarriage later in pregnancy when there are more procedures needed.  And my heart goes out to those other mothers who experience the death of a fully grown baby, whether still in the womb or in their arms.  And my heart aches for their pain.  And my heart aches for their crazy hormonal emotions, which everyone experiences after childbirth anyway - but the upside is that there is a baby there.  So what if there isn't one?

 I love you, women.  All of you.

Righteous Judgment

At one time I thought I was a good judge of character. Now I'm not so sure to trust myself.

I've made the mistake of judging someone as being dangerous or somehow unworthy of friendship and then later been proven wrong...on one occasion it really came back to bite me and made me feel horrible.

I've made the mistake of trusting someone as worthy of love when instead....well, everyone else saw it but me.

The point is. You can't judge a person on a first glance.

I try to follow inspiration, but sometimes that gets mixed up in my interpretations. Sometimes what I interpret as a prompting from the spirit turns out to be nothing but my own anxiety or some kind of strange temptation masquerading as a prompting.

So what can I do to improve my judgment? How can I continue forward trusting my own instincts?

Intuition

This morning after I got up and fed the baby, I was doing dishes and getting ready for breakfast and thought the kids were in the basement. I hadn't gone down to check, but that's usually where they are. Still, I kept thinking to myself that I should go down and see what they were doing but I didn't until I had the first waffle in the iron.

They weren't down there.

They weren't in the house.

And when I went outside, they didn't answer and they weren't anywhere in the yard.

Ok, so I took a deep breath, left the baby in his bed and got in the car wearing my bathrobe to drive down the road. They had once before gone down to the park with their tricycles before so I thought I'd check there first. Only one of the tricycles was missing though - and when I got down there, they weren't there either.

Any parent may panic at this point, but I remained calm inside. My mind kept trying to tell me to be frightened because this should be a terrifying happening. But I felt inside that the kids were just fine, I just needed to find them.

I ended up finding them at the house on the corner of our block (in the other direction from the park) playing in the dirt of that person's yard. It looked like Jameson had ridden his bicycle down there and Zachy had followed on foot. They were in trouble, of course - but I wasn't afraid because I know the neighbors on my street are good people.

The thing is, how did I know they were just fine? If they were hurt or picked up by some maniac, would I feel it? Actually, I believe I would. And I'm grateful for that.

Where Is My Heart?

Lately I started receiving Us Weekly. (No, I am not linking that!) Stupid that I am, I signed up for it somehow online in a free offer thing for some other motive and I can't even remember what it was. Then a month or so after I'd been getting it a while, we get this high charge on our account from Us... dumb magazine people. I called about it to cancel but all I got was an automated answering service. It asked if I wanted to sign up for more issues for "only" $5 an issue and they would reimburse the gargantuan charge on my account if I did this. I said no to that. Then they asked if I wanted to cancel and I said yes. This leaves me with receiving the issues up until what I've already paid for with that humongo charge they put onto my account, and no reimbursement. I tried the bank blocking route but they wouldn't do it without a fraudulent claim and since I in fact did business with these people there is no way to get my money back.

What I should have done is said yes to the reimbursement and then canceled any further issues. The $5 an issue thing wasn't going to be a contract! Well....I guess maybe they could have made it that way. Stupid automated system.

Ok. If my four-year-old was reading he'd tell me to watch my language. "Stupid is a bad word!"

Anyway, the point of this post, which I am finally getting to (so much for short and sweet, right?) is that today I was given a nice little wake-up call about where my heart truly is. Although I really don't value what it says in Us Weekly, whenever I get it, I am somehow dragged into reading, or at least looking at, every page! I don't really want to receive the thing anymore because all it does is fill my head with a bunch of worthless worldly junk! But nonetheless, I receive a magazine and am plunged back into the curiosity about who wore what, who looks best, who's dating who...blah blah blah. Like it's any of my business in the first place!

Today I received an issues of Us Weekly. But it was also accompanied by another magazine by the name of the Ensign. The Ensign I get also comes with the Friend, which is meant for my kids but I usually read it myself. :) These issues I always look forward to receiving in the mail every month. They testify of eternal things. They make me think with the right perspective and encourage my everyday living to be more Christlike.

So today I have my mail and am looking at the cover of Us Weekly when I realize I'm holding the Ensign in the other hand without even really acknowledging its presence there. It hit me. Which magazine is really better for me to read? Which one will make me feel happier after I'm done reading it?

Which one will I open up first?

Where is my heart really? Am I truly more drawn to and excited about Us Weekly? The magazine I was scammed into receiving and don't really care about in the first place? Or is this some kind of powerful temptation working on me to get my priorities mixed up? Well.

That was my wake-up call. And I hope I don't forget it.