Grateful Heart

I woke up this morning cocooned in warm blankets that protected against the nip in the morning air. I could hear the older girls playing happily upstairs in the playroom. I got up and walked into Devyn and Lauryn's room and was greeted by ear-to-ear grins and happy, little voices. I came downstairs and was welcomed with a smile from my husband and music filling the airspace around the breakfast table. As Devyn and I munched on our granola, she kept grinning at me and patting my shoulder. I LOVE it when she pats my shoulder! Brynna ran downstairs to give me a squeeze before she was off to play again. After finishing breakfast, I was off to go upstairs to get showered so I can meet up with my friend Laura this morning...and then I stopped and felt the moment. I said a prayer in my heart thanking my Father in Heaven for my life and for the many, many good things in it.

When I was in my twenties I thought that true happiness or contentment would finally be achieved when we had a beautiful home filled with nice things, new cars and could afford to go wonderful places. I thought happiness was never having conflict. I thought happiness was when the Lord blessed you with the things you wanted right away....

Happiness, and I had to take a moment to record this so that my children know, isn't any of those things. Happiness resides in a home, regardless of size or furnishing, where there is respect and love. Happiness is knowing that even if your van has 118,000 miles on it, it is paid for and starts each time you load your kids into it. Happiness is knowing that you and the people you care about can survive tough times and live to love stronger and more earnestly the next day. Happiness is knowing that God loves you so much, that He knows what plan is right for you. Even if it means you have to wait and even if it means you have to work for it. Happiness is knowing that out of all the places in the world you could be, nothing compares to sharing a couch and staying in with a husband and children who love you with all the generosity hearts can hold. Happiness is having friends that you don't have to put on any pretenses for. Ones that love you like family and you know would do anything for you.

I have all these things.

My life is simple. But I want my children to know that I consider myself one of the most blessed women alive. Because I have everything that really matters. I have everything in life that I need. I think when we cultivate a genuine thankfulness for every need that has been met, our wants for the frivolous dwindle. Because we realize what is really important, what really matters and we find contentment and joy in those things. I know I have. I know that my life is blessed, beyond measure.

Penn State

Today I got red-hot, steaming mad as the situation unfolded at Penn State. For those of you who haven't heard, one of assistant staff members of the Penn State Football team was caught in the act, almost a decade ago, raping a 10-year-old in the locker room showers. It wasn't his only victim. NOTHING was done to stop this monster by the person who saw the act, other than telling his superior who then passed the buck to someone else. Nothing was reported to the authorities and they sat by, actionless, while this evil person continued 'mentoring' children through his underprivileged youth organization.

Have you ever had a disgust that you couldn't describe? I was there. Where you think of the children in your life and you know that if someone EVER did that to your kids, you're afraid of the place of rage you could go to. Where you know you would have to stop yourself, but all you would want to do is...

What's even more disgusting is that these kids didn't have an easy life, even prior to the abuse. They needed a place to turn. A person to trust. Someone to help them get a break. What they got was a wolf in sheep's clothing. What they got was wounds that many find hard to heal after a lifetime of trying. It just makes me so sick. This bastard that did it wrote and autobiography about himself detailing his life as a mentor of youth. You want to know what the title of that book is? "Touched." Let's talk again about the rage you fear you couldn't control....

What has been almost as disturbing as the reports of abuse themselves, is the amount of people that have defended those who brushed these heinous acts under the rug. For almost a decade after the discovery of that awful act, they allowed this man to walk free among children without calling the authorities. And yet riots have broken out and people have become so incensed that the university would hold those people, who allowed this to continue, accountable for their actions. People love their football and their coaches and their 'legacy' more than they care about human lives.

The whole thing leaves me sickened beyond description.

Going Flying

You can't see them, but Lauryn, Brynna and Maryn are all in this little plane! They had so much fun!

I am really not one for irrational fears, but the thought of flying in a little airplane makes me kind of nervous. Between Justin and I we have known 3 people who have died in small airplane crashes. Kind of a reason to be nervous if you ask me. Tonight though my friend Laura called me up and said that her husband Nick, who is an Aeronautical Engineer and pilot, had a plane and to come out and go flying with them. Justin had already committed to go watch football with a friend. So I loaded up the girls and we drove up to the little Cherokee County airport. Nick took turns giving everyone rides while we sat around a fire and cooked hot dogs. It was chilly and brisk, but fun to be out bundled up and enjoying the Fall evening.

Maryn was nervous at first about going. I told her she didn't have to go if she didn't want to. But when the question came "Alright, who's going next?!" Maryn, Brynna and Lauryn all stepped up to the plate! I watched them take off as I held Devy, knowing they were in good hands with Nick, but still hoping they would be safe and sound. When the girls came back from their turn they jumped out of their seats, raving about how awesome it was! How fun it was to talk into the microphone on the headset! How the cars looked like little toy cars! How they flew over Wal-Mart! By the last flight, after all the kids had had their turns, the kids had me convinced I needed to take a turn too. So I swallowed my nervousness and hopped into the cockpit and rode shotgun.

I must say it was so much fun!! Flying over Canton at night, seeing all the familiar places from such a different view. It was fun to hear Nick explain some of the technical stuff. And the landing was way smoother that any commercial flight I have ever been on! It was just a great time all around. I was really grateful I got to try something new and have such a great time with friends tonight!

Advice #1

As a mom, there is always a ton of advice that flies through my head, but I don't always have time to articulate it. So for my daughters I am writing it down. Some advice may be serious, or silly or just plain common sense but I am going to share what I can every now and then as it comes to me, in no particular order... Girls, you get half of your DNA from me, which means you have also been blessed with that whitey-white girl skin. I hope you can embrace it. But I will understand if the yearning for sun-kissed skin eventually hits you someday. But please, in your pursuit for sun-kissedness don't ever tan or lay out in the sun to the point of being orange or making your features indiscernible. (You know what I am talking about, where all you see is teeth and gobs of mascara and the rest just blends in to one monochromatic, unnatural shade of oompa-loompa.) It's just not a good look.

Love,

Mom

Today...

*Maryn helped clean up like nobody's business and didn't complain once!
*Brynna read me a funny story she wrote about a vampire that eats all the candy instead of giving it to Trick-or-Treaters.
*Lauryn was her usual moody/hilarious/bossy/delightful self.
*Devyn smiled and her whole face lit up she she saw her Daddy.

Sundays

I was joking with my friend Laura at church today, after the Sacrament Service, that trying to keep four, young children happy and quiet through church can feel like Chinese water torture sometimes. Every little fight or fuss or whatever that breaks out while you are trying to preserve the reverence for those around you picks at your sanity until you find yourself feeling completely unraveled.

When I only had two kids, I oftentimes came to church alone without Justin. I wondered some weeks, even though my testimony was strong, why I even came to church at all. Instead of being able to be in the classes and meetings being edified (which I needed so bad) I found myself walking the halls with my children, constantly soothing someone else.

In retrospect I am so glad I stuck it out and kept it up though. My parental workload has only increased over the years and it would have been easy to just say it was too much and stay home with Justin. But I am glad that even if it put me at wit's end most days, that my children and my husband knew that on Sundays I woke up, put on our best and went to worship in whatever way I could.

What kept me going was the thought that our actions define who we are. I had a testimony and I couldn't just shelf it because life was hard. I couldn't just shelf it because more was required of me than others, it seemed like. Even if I felt like some weeks I went home with my own personal well still depleted, the Lord has found ways to bless me throughout the years for doing what I knew was right; even when it seemed like I was getting nothing out of it.

I am beyond grateful that Justin is now by my side at church each week. I am grateful that my actions, even when it wasn't easy, showed him where my heart was at and what was important to me. It helped him to find the desire to rekindle his own testimony. It means so much to me to be able to share my spiritual side with my husband. It means so much that even though life is crazy, I know I have my back-up right next to me. It makes all the difference knowing we are in it together. We are a team. We are unified in purpose.

Today as Justin took a restless Devyn from me to go walk the halls with her so I could go to class, I just thought about how much I love him. How grateful I am that he is my husband. While it was so hard at the time, I am glad that I weathered those Sundays alone. I am glad that I had to really think hard about my testimony and what it meant to me. Glad that I fought for what I believed even if it meant a lonely road for awhile.

I don't take for granted that even if we are a wild and restless bunch some weeks and it feels like Chinese water torture, we are all there. There is no one unaccounted for. I am grateful for the trials of the past because they have made the blessings of my present so very much sweeter. I am grateful for a husband who loved me enough to seek a change of heart. I am infinitely thankful for a loving Father in Heaven who has shown time and time again that He will find ways to bless and lift up those who earnestly seek Him.

Dear Keira...

This was a response to a sweet message sent to me by my husband's awesome cousin, Keira. She was congratulating me on the recent news that a short piece I submitted to be condsidered for publication in a collaborative book on motherhood was selected.

Keira, thank you so much! It's funny, like I said it is just a small snippet in a book full of other authors. But it's amazing what a boost it was to me. When I entered my submissions I remember thinking "This is such a waste of time. No one is ever going to pick me." Every time the people compiling the book would send out update emails saying they hadn't chosen the winners yet because they were working their way through piles of submissions and running them through different judging panels, I thought "I should just mark these emails as spam because even when they do pick the winners, I won't make the cut. Why waste my time reading all these update emails?" Even as I was reading the final list of winners, I was scrolling down, down, down and I was no where to be seen and I thought "See, I was right. I knew I wouldn't make it." Then in the last chapter, second to last on the list of authors, there was my name. I was shocked.

I was the girl no one ever told was capable of doing anything out of the ordinary. No one ever talked to me about grades, or pushing myself or college. My parents are wonderful people, but seriously, I think they were just happy to see me barely graduate from high school. I have spent my adult life scratching and working hard for any feathers in my cap. But in the back of my mind, I knew I wasn't really good at anything. The directionless girl starving for self-esteem from my teenage years haunted me, chased me.

The first glimmer of hope in myself came after I ran my first and singular marathon. I wasn't an athlete. I wasn't a runner. But I was tired of being a quitter. And so I literally ran away from that girl. That doubter. I ran away from the voices in my head that told me I wasn't strong enough to do hard things. That finish line was a new start.

But demons are hard to keep away...

So I could finish something. So what. I was still considerably dumber than those around me.

The demons were on my back again. So I went back to school last year with four kids, which in itself is completely nuts. But I had again found myself toe-to-toe with a breaking point in my life where I had something to prove. Priority number one in sticking it to those demons was, in addition to other coursework, was to start with Math classes. I hadn't been in school in over a decade and I was pretty sure I was crazy. I had previously repeatedly flunked out of Math classes in high school, because let's face it, I'm an idiot.

I worked my tail off and studied until the wee hours of the morning. I literally cried tears of frustration and pulled on my hair. I wasn't one of those who's mind was mathematically wired. But the shadows of underachievement stalked after me and so I pushed forward, in hopes of getting out of their reach.

Report cards came back and I got straight A's. The next semester, the classes got harder and once again I was able, through sheer grit, to pull off straight A's again.

We ended up moving and so I wasn't able to keep going to school. But those two semesters taught me that maybe being a worthless idiot was a lie I sold myself. Maybe it wasn't that no one never believed in me. Maybe their belief was just strangled by my own unbelief and went unrecognized.

Writing is something I am not good at, it's something that I enjoy. Any dreams I had of ever getting published or writing a children's book were ridiculous pipe dreams. Uneducated, unextraordinary people like myself don't have their loftiest dreams come true. They die with sweet visions of could-have-beens floating through the windows of their mind, knowing their life found meaning in other ways.

But seeing my name in the Twelfth Chapter of that book, which is ironically about 'The Power of Moments,' was the hammer to my thick skull that someone else saw the value in what I have to bring to this world. I know I will never be the fastest, I will never be the strongest, the smartest or the most decorated. But dang it, I matter. I'm worth something. I have something to contribute and share.

I don't have to be scared to try or to shoot for my loftiest dreams. Because at the end of the day I know I am of worth. Not because somebody else told me so, but because finally for the first time in my whole life I believe it for myself. And even if I fail and go down in a burning ball of flames, I have the confidence of knowing that at least failure teaches you sweeter lessons than the apathy of never giving a rip to push yourself.

Seeing my name at the end of that list triggered a new starting line in my life. One where I, finally in my heart of hearts, believe that I can run without the companionship of constant, nagging doubt. But rather I can run towards my dreams with lungs full of hope, breathing to life who I really can become.