Shards

 SHARDS

Shattered, broken, deadly…

A lifetime of mistakes lay before me

In overwhelming hues.

Looking around,

I don’t know where to go,

What to do.

Who am I…

…Other than a thousand bits

Of splintered, senseless

Colored glass?

But then,

Ever so gently,

I feel the pieces lovingly gathered,

Delicately and deliberately rearranged,

Making sense of

The sadness,

The heartache,

The mistakes,

The flaws,

The cracked ugly pieces

Of my broken soul.

Patterns form

As I submit

To this brutally tender rearrangement,

Allowing myself to float,

To move,

To break even further

Under the hands

Of the Master Craftsman.

The lead is placed

Deliberately

Between the gaps of the

Broken, colored pieces…

An Atonement of Love

Sealing,

Soldering the pattern into place

In the furnace of redemption.

“What are you doing?”

My soul cries out.

“These pieces are broken,

Ugly,

Unredeemable!

I am still but a cacophonic collection

Of worthless,

Fragmented,

Melted sand.”

My heart hung in shame,

The Master Craftsman

Gently reaches,

Lovinging lifting me into place.

“Just watch,”

He whispers.

Light--

His light!--

Shines through my brokenness

I gasp,

As I see I have become

His stained glass masterpiece.

(Image from Stained glass window, fantasy woman portrait. Generative ai By FantasyEmporium https://stock.adobe.com/images/stained-glass-window-fantasy-woman-portrait-generative-ai/553267928)

Joyous Noel

My heart is so full this morning.  I have had a beautiful week with Quinn's parents visiting us.  It has been full of peace and joy and memories.  I am going to miss them so much when they go. It has been a perfect lead up to one of the most sacred nights of the year.

Yesterday, I woke up sick.  Laying in bed all day helped me evaluate my priorities on that day. I spent some special time wrapping presents in a bedroom with my dear second mother while we talked, laughed and cried together.    We spoke of the joy and magic of children rising on Christmas morning and the joy that comes from the process of giving and receiving gifts.

I went back to bed for a few hours and got up in time to watch a little bit of George C. Scott's "Christmas Carol."  We had finished reading the story from Dickens a week ago and had been looking forward to watching it.  Towards the end of the film, the missionaries came to our door.  We welcomed them in and decided stop the video and re-enact our traditional nativity right then so they could be a part of it.  We separated into parts, Grandpa was our narrator and we began.  Hava was a beautiful Mary and we had the manger right in front of our big pile of presents. The location was beautifully symbolic of the ultimate gift given that Christmas night so many years ago.

At the part where we read about the angels coming to the shepherds we played the world's largest Hallelujah Chorus, one of my all time favorites.

You could almost imagine seeing these people as the angels singing in praise and glory that night of the Savior's birth!

We finished up the nativity, sang some songs, closed with prayer. It was beautiful.  Hava told me later that night that the story hadn't been really that special to her until that night when she was able to be Mary.  "It was so beautiful, Mommy!  It is so special!"  Yes, sweetie, it was.

I laid back down soon after that, pretty weak from sickness still.  I was able to watch the kids one by one head to bed.  As Drew passed towards the end, he told me about a youtube video that captured the whole meaning of the night, Josh Groban's nativity video.

Merry Christmas and joyous new year,... new life because of what happened that sacred night so many years ago.

The Widow's Mite

My brain tickles about doing an earlier post about this concept.  I guess some lessons need more than once to take...or there are different levels of learning happening.  

Yesterday, I was blessed to teach about the widow's mite in seminary. (1 min clip)

After we watched it I felt inspired to share how perhaps those around us are very emotionally or spiritually poor.  Perhaps that young man that drives with us to mutual is giving his two mites just to show up each week when he comes from an emotionally abusive and love-deprived environment.  Maybe those people at church that we so easily judge for not serving more or doing better in their callings are giving their widow's mites.  Are we the Pharisees who have emotional, physical and spiritual wealth, giving of our largess compared to the new convert for whom it takes everything just to show up at church every so often?

It reminded me of President Hinckley's quote: "All the Lord wants us to do is try...but you have to really try."

The following scripture took on deeper meaning to me in my "perfection-driven" psyche:

27 And see that all these things are done in wisdom and order; for it is not requisite that a man should run faster than he has strength. And again, it is expedient that he should be diligent, that thereby he might win the prize; therefore, all things must be done in order. (Mosiah 4:27)

I "found" this scripture when looking for the reference and direct quote for the previous one:

4 Do not run faster or labor more than you have strength and means provided to enable you to translate; but be diligent unto the end. (D&C 10:4) 

I never really noticed the caveat that came after both of these: "it is expedient that he should be diligent" and " be diligent unto the end."  Neither of the phrases allow for a cop-out.  The widow gave of all she had.  We are exhorted in covenants in our church to give of all that we have to the Lord's work.

I have found the limits of my strength, at least the current ones.  "It is not requisite."  A beautiful phrase.  I have been holding myself to the ideal of a woman with no need for sleep and more than 24 hours in my day.  You should see all the things I want to do!  All good things :).

But apparently I have not yet really learned why we are bound by time and limited means in this life. I still beat myself up occasionally with an imaginary divine standard (although I am getting better). The Lord promises in the scripture of the widow's mite that "blessed is this poor widow."  Blessed.  Ahhhh, that divine approval.   And it comes with so little!

Yesterday I was at the temple after weeks of frustration in trying to set up an appointment and having all the necessary items there.  My attendance at the temple has been laced with grief and frustration almost all summer, almost a challenge to my faith as to whether or not I will still attend.  However, knowing that the need to go to the temple out-weighs my offence at policy and procedure, I have not-so-humbly continued to attend.  Anyway, going back to yesterday, I brought the stack of family names that I have been eager to start working on.  We had about 30 females and I asked how many we could do.  The gentleman said that they had five there that they wanted to have us do, if that was alright, and then we could do five more along with those temple names.

As I sat there with those 25 "extra" names in my hands, I plead heaven-ward: surely we can just do at least a few more?  After all, this is Thy work and is so important for every soul.

The answer came back very simply: Daughter, I am content with your widow's mite.

At the end of my day yesterday, I felt a tender mercy.  As I reflected on my diverse day of spiritual/educational highs to "mommy crash moments" of horrible deflation of children's self-esteem, I felt a gentle assurance that I had given my widow's mite and that God was happy with me.  I needed to keep trying, that was a given, but he was satisfied with my widow's mite.  As I felt lightened by the prospect, I heard a little chuckle and the following phrase drifted into my mind:
"The Lord loveth a cheerful giver."

Good point.

If He is truly satisfied as I give my all--the full extent of my strength, not measured in headlong pushing nor in excessive busy-ness (my day was a good balance of push and pause)--then I can be happy.  The world of possible joyful endurance opened up before me.  I felt giddy.  I even woke up and thought politically and historically with joy at 3 am before reasoning myself back to sleep again.  And then when I woke up again, I woke up laughing. (Quinn asked if there was anything wrong :D.)

Wrong?  No.  Things are very right.  As I was able to have my mind open to consider accepting and recognizing might be the widow's mite of those around me, my own self-condemnation was tapered and again, I felt joy.  Blissful contentment.  And an enthusiasm to joyfully explore the capacity of my strength and ability to be still today.

Joy

"My name is Joy and I have come to stay."

This phrase floated across my mind as I went smilingly through the debris-strewn house in my mismatched pajamas after staying up until 3 am and being "behind schedule," a state that would have thrown my inner sanctum into a frenzy of anger, anxiety and distress in the not-so-distant past.

Joy.

The painful experiences of the past several years have taught me how precious this joy is.  In fact, for as long as I can remember, I have dealt with these emotions: anxious, busy, worried, bitter, determined, focused, passionate, depression, fear of 'failure, angry, distraught,...feelings that have become as second nature as breathing.  Sure, I have felt moments of peace and joy but this feels different.  More sure.

As I thanked my Heavenly Father for it's sweetness one of my favorite children's books came to mind: "The Mountain that loved a Bird."

The following little clip from youtube captures the basic story...only the book extends it over hundreds of years.  It is a story that deserves retelling.

A mountain yearns for the sweet and simple song of a bird named Joy, who only stops over once a year for a few hours in her yearly migration. She comes year after year once she senses the mountain's love for her.  However, there is nothing for her to live off of on the bare slopes of the mountain.

As the mountain bids farewell to her year after year, the pain of seeing her go increases.  Even as the mountain hears the song, it knows that it will be gone all too soon.  Finally one day, as the mountain deeply grieves, from deep within the it something cracks! and a fountain of water finds its way to the surface of the mountain. Joy notices this. Year after year, Joy and her descendants (who are also named "Joy") bring one seed at a time and place them where the waters flow from the broken heart of the mountain.

And the mountain begins to blossom and be covered with life.  Year after year, the mountain hears, "I can only stay with you a little while but I will be back next year," from Joy and mourns her loss.  Finally, as the first seed planted becomes a tree, Joy comes and roosts in its branches and declares, "I am Joy and I have come to stay."

Oh the sweetness of that declaration. I hope that my heart is open enough, broken enough to sustain Joy so that it may stay.

Pure joy

A while back I read a response to a post on my friend's blog, in which the person said, essentially, that true joy really only comes in brief glimpses in this life...that it is impossible to experience it on a regular basis.  I don't agree.

I believe that the nature of true joy allows it to permeate through times of great sorrow and grief.  True joy transcends the frustration of the moment of spilled milk or missed trains,... as if true joy allows us to savor the moment, helping us to both see the good parts of what is happening and catch glimpses of how our tribulation is defining us.

True joy is transcendent and is not limited by circumstances and situation.  I believe Corrie Ten Boom and her sister experienced true joy in the hell of the concentration camp.  I believe Jesus Christ experienced joy knowing that He could leave His beloved mother in the watch-care of his brother-friend-disciple, even as He hung on the cross.


As I look out on the glory that is this world, the magic of this misty morning, surrounded by my children and my husband, knowing it could all disappear in the moment, I can feel the true joy of knowing that there is a God in Heaven in whose omnipotent, omniscient, and all-loving hands can hold me.

I know joy, for I have felt my own Gethsemane of sorrow.  I can feel the difference of peace that lasts in stark contrast to ephemeral happiness. 

Perhaps joy is better known as hope?  Hmmmm....

Joy, peace, hope.  I do not believe joy is dangled in front of us, as a carrot on a string, only attainable in the next life.  "Men are that they might have joy."  I believe joy can be present in the here and now.

Easter testimony...

This morning I was feeling tired and cranky.  The Easter Bunny forgot to get things ready last night, so I was up at 4:30 preparing and hiding the baskets, per family tradition.  I had been up late watching a movie with Q-dawg and the older kids the night before, Spooner was nursing a bunch since he is teething and a little sick, but the thought of those little disappointed faces got me up off my pillow and moving.

Like I said, tired and cranky :).  

I knew I needed to re-fuel, so I sat down to listen to a conference talk, one that had touched me deeply from last conference.   It was amazing.
“Because I Live, Ye Shall Live Also”

The following are some special quotes from it that reminded me of the true meaning of Easter and how its message has changed my life forever.

I was reminded of the teachings of the Prophet Joseph Smith, who taught this comforting doctrine: “The Lord takes many away, even in infancy, that they may escape the envy of man, and the sorrows and evils of this present world; they were too pure, too lovely, to live on earth; therefore, if rightly considered, instead of mourning we have reason to rejoice as they are delivered from evil, and we shall soon have them again...”²

What a glorious blessing this is in our lives. Wouldn’t it be tragic if we didn’t feel great sorrow when we lose a child? How grateful I am to my Father in Heaven that He allows us to love deeply and love eternally. How grateful I am for eternal families. How grateful I am that He has revealed once again through His living prophets the glorious plan of redemption.

Remember as you attended the funeral of your loved one the feelings in your heart as you drove away from the cemetery and looked back to see that solitary casket—wondering if your heart would break.

I testify that because of Him, even our Savior, Jesus Christ, those feelings of sorrow, loneliness, and despair will one day be swallowed up in a fulness of joy. I testify that we can depend on Him and when He said:

“I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.

“Yet a little while, and the world seeth me no more; but ye see me: because I live, ye shall live also.”⁵

I testify that, as stated in Preach My Gospel, “as we rely on the Atonement of Jesus Christ, He can help us endure our trials, sicknesses, and pain. We can be filled with joy, peace, and consolation. All that is unfair about life can be made right through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.”⁶

I testify that on that bright, glorious morning of the First Resurrection, your loved ones and mine will come forth from the grave as promised by the Lord Himself and we will have a fulness of joy. Because He lives, they and we shall live also. In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Amen.

Creating beauty...even for only a moment...

Tonight I watched the following clip with Liliputian.  It is one of my favorites, combining my love of art and my love of the ocean.  For just a moment, it satisfies my yearning to sit on the cool beach and feel the rush and scent of the ocean breezes.

It makes me think.  This man spent hours creating a work of art that would be gone so soon.  Yet he did it.  How often do we put time into things that seem to crumble so quickly?  Our homes, our families, our children, our friends, our projects?

I think that is one reason why my favorite quote is my favorite quote there on the side :):

What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight;
Build anyway.

 It makes me want to go and create something!

Enjoy the Moment

Last Saturday, I reluctantly attended a Stake RS program.  My friend came and picked me up (which helped me go), and she asked if I wouldn't mind playing the piano for the meeting for her, since she had had no opportunity to practice.  As I was sitting there, at the piano, wishing I could understand more, worrying about what wasn't getting done at home, worrying about what I wanted to work on for next week, thinking of how ridiculous my boots looked with the dress I was wearing, the thought popped into my head, "Enjoy the moment." 

I looked out the window across from the piano.  The day was beautiful. The street lovely.  The opportunity to play was wonderful.  I could enjoy the moment.

It made me think about Pres. Uchtdorf's address in the last conference, "Of Regrets and Resolutions" and this quote: "There is something in each day that can bring gratitude and joy if only we will see and appreciate it."

A moment is just a minute and a half, Q-dawg mentioned the other day, according to the answer of a Trivial Pursuit question :).  Since I have taken the time to enjoy the moment.  When I get stressed, angry, whiney, I stop.  I enjoy the moment.

We shouldn’t wait to be happy until we reach some future point, only to discover that happiness was already available—all the time! Life is not meant to be appreciated only in retrospect. “This is the day which the Lord hath made … ,” the Psalmist wrote. “Rejoice and be glad in it.” (ibid)

This morning, Avot had the following poem up for Vanguard from a blog where it was posted, and I thought it was perfect:

Then Laugh by Bertha Adams Backus

Build for yourself a strong box, 

fashion each part with care; 

When it’s strong as your hand can make it, 

put all your troubles there; 

Hide there all thought of your failures, 

and each bitter cup that you quaff; 

Lock all your heartaches within it, 

Then sit on the lid and laugh. 

Tell no one else its contents, 

Never its secrets share; 

When you’ve dropped in your care and worry

keep them forever there; 

Hide them from sight so completely

That the world will never dream half; 

Fasten the strongbox securely -

Then sit on the lid and laugh. 

 

 

To finish up this post, I thought President Uchtdorf's words before the first quote fit: Brothers and sisters, no matter our circumstances, no matter our challenges or trials, there is something in each day to embrace and cherish.

I have found this to be true.  You just have to choose to find it. :)

**********************************************

The rest of the section that I pulled the quotes from (completely wonderful...better to listen to the whole talk, of course, but here is some :)!):

 "I Wish I Had Let Myself Be Happier

Another regret of those who knew they were dying may be somewhat surprising. They wished they had let themselves be happier.

So often we get caught up in the illusion that there is something just beyond our reach that would bring us happiness: a better family situation, a better financial situation, or the end of a challenging trial.

The older we get, the more we look back and realize that external circumstances don’t really matter or determine our happiness.

We do matter. We determine our happiness.

You and I are ultimately in charge of our own happiness.

My wife, Harriet, and I love riding our bicycles. It is wonderful to get out and enjoy the beauties of nature. We have certain routes we like to bike, but we don’t pay too much attention to how far we go or how fast we travel in comparison with other riders.

However, occasionally I think we should be a bit more competitive. I even think we could get a better time or ride at a higher speed if only we pushed ourselves a little more. And then sometimes I even make the big mistake of mentioning this idea to my wonderful wife.

Her typical reaction to my suggestions of this nature is always very kind, very clear, and very direct. She smiles and says, “Dieter, it’s not a race; it’s a journey. Enjoy the moment.”

How right she is!

Sometimes in life we become so focused on the finish line that we fail to find joy in the journey. I don’t go cycling with my wife because I’m excited about finishing. I go because the experience of being with her is sweet and enjoyable.

Doesn’t it seem foolish to spoil sweet and joyful experiences because we are constantly anticipating the moment when they will end?

Do we listen to beautiful music waiting for the final note to fade before we allow ourselves to truly enjoy it? No. We listen and connect to the variations of melody, rhythm, and harmony throughout the composition.

Do we say our prayers with only the “amen” or the end in mind? Of course not. We pray to be close to our Heavenly Father, to receive His Spirit and feel His love.

We shouldn’t wait to be happy until we reach some future point, only to discover that happiness was already available—all the time! Life is not meant to be appreciated only in retrospect. “This is the day which the Lord hath made … ,” the Psalmist wrote. “Rejoice and be glad in it.”⁶

Brothers and sisters, no matter our circumstances, no matter our challenges or trials, there is something in each day to embrace and cherish. There is something in each day that can bring gratitude and joy if only we will see and appreciate it."