The Charging Block..

 Here's my set-up:

I like to get up early, so my desk in my room (which is a beautiful set-up) isn't really an option unless Quinn is up.  I'm learning those little things that bring peace in my journey and they are as unique and individually tailored as this set-up.  And as transitory.

I'm learning so much even in this too.

1) My health is important--hence the heightened platform for my computer so I can stand more often.

2) The charging block for my computer--next to which is the most easily damaged part of the essential recharging cord--needs to be supported and looked out for directly.  I am like that charging cord--receiving and passing forward power and direction--and my needs to be directly looked after.

3) Following little nudges like this can make a difference in the long-term that I don't foresee now.

This was reinforced yesterday. I wanted to make taco soup to use up the tomato soup and chicken broth that I had in the fridge (I hate waste).  It didn't make sense to just make one batch, so I asked the willing to learn Lily to make a double batch.  This double batch didn't really make sense because I have a fridge full of other leftovers ready to spoil. I reasoned that I could freeze and use the extras for my kiddos when I am gone.

I had Quinn divide it in half to only bring half to the lake with us that night when he met up with us.

Fast forward: end of rehearsal I reach out to a friend that we were going to the lake--almost like I couldn't stop myself. (We have had several days of rehearsals and I still have the unhealthy instinct to not "over-invite" people to things lest I overwhelm them. My therapist would call that taking charge of other people's happiness and decisions.)

She showed up!

I wanted to invite her to join us for dinner, but realized that I hadn't asked Quinn to bring all of the dinner, but I invited her anyway and we all had a little bit. She thanked me.

----

But I missed out.  She could see that we didn't have very much. She was so kind and responded to my multiple invitations, assuring her we had enough, which technically we did. But I had a pot full of extra soup at home, which in the long run begged so many lessons.

Lessons not of guilt (she was already planning on taking care of her family's own dinner and wasn't suffering because I didn't) but of missed opportunity and thereby learning:

-try not to overthink things, lol!

-by bringing my abundance with me, I might have enjoyed being able to serve dinner to a woman--a sweet new friend-- who was in the middle of a broken washing machine dilemma and had to go home now and gather her laundry and head to the laundromat!  Wouldn't that have been cool!

So here I am, the morning after...learning.  Not beating myself up. Learning.

What did that interaction feel like yesterday morning?  The interaction when it was probably God nudging me to make that illogical extra?  What made me start analyzing the why?

You see, I've had some people ask about or comment about my take on what I call following the Spirit--so many choices where I've just moved forward in a seemingly illogical direection and seen some cool miracles.  This is how I learn==by looking back at times where it might have been the Spirit and learning.

Not feeling guilty (can I say this enough?) because other people's happiness does NOT hinge upon me or my abilities.  But it does feel super cool to be part of something that brings a little more joy or eases someone's burden a little and I find that learning to recognize these interactions for what they are "mini-lesssons" I'm learning to pay attention more.  Kind of like a melody I recognize, or a feeling...like the groan one in too many romance movies where the main characters make stupid, out of character decisions to develop the plot or the sweet feeling of redemption at the end when all is restored--and one of the main reasons we watch it ;). 

Here's me, owning it! I like this.

Finding Symbolism in Airport Alarms

 Okay, if there's a perfect time ot be at the airport, I have to say, my favorite it in the week hours of the morning.  Well, only if you have a long layover.  So much seating available.  I can lay on the freshly cleaned floors with much less hesitation than usual. (Yes, I do sometimes because when you're tired... and honestly, will you ever see these people again?)

Yes, that's me.  With my eyes closed. I decided to keep it real and keep my first attempt at this selfie; besides, it's an adequate reflection of the time of day, right?

Well, something that happens at 1:30 am in an airport is the testing of an alarm system.  (Not so great for sleeping but I'm in a three hour lag, so 2 am in Vegas is about my normal wake up time in Ohio. Yes, Vegas!  The picture is a giveaway, right?  Too bad I don't care to gamble, although from what I overheard of the "success" stories of fellow travelers, it would be wise to not try, surprise surprise.  But I digress.) Back to the alarms...

So, right before the alarms came on, there was a loud announcement that basically let us know that the alarms were going to be tested, so to no panic.  Then, for the next 30 minutes (or so) they tested various sound and light alarms.  Good thing I was already awake!  Immediately after the first ones went off, I thought, that's super smart!  So many things can go wrong and you want to be sure everything is in place if that emergency should arise.

That was followed immedately by the thought, much like the voice of the prophets and apostles in our day.  This was fresh on my mind because I was listening to a General Conference talk at the time from President Nelson "Make Time For The Lord" from 2021. I had also just started reading the Doctrince and Covenants, honestly not my go-to book of scriptures. I had just prayed a week ago for God to show my why we study this book, to gain a testimony of it.  As I read the first section, I was immediately struck with several truths that not only applied ot some situations I had been seeking counsel from heaven about, but also the phrase the Lord uses, "to raise a voice of warning in the last days" as calamities and chaos foretold for millenia unfold.  So I'm reading.  And watching for those signs and warnings.

It probably was a natural jump for me to make a connection, then, this morning when the alarms were being tested, against the day of calamity. The airport administrators want everything up and running and in place against the day of emergency.  God wants our lives "up and running" to prepare personally against the impending events that signal the coming of our Lord.

The alamrs were repetitious, perhaps even obnocious.   I admit my heart is not always eager to accept and implement the warnings that seem ofttimes repetitious from the pulpit of those called of God to give us His word.  Here's a sample from the talk I was listening to you and see if any of it might be a familiar refrain...a drill as it were:

"My brothers and sisters, I plead with you to make time for the Lord! Make your own spiritual foundation firm and able to stand the test of time by doing those things that allow the Holy Ghost to be with you always.

Never underestimate the profound truth that “the Spirit speaketh … of things as they really are, and of things as they really will be.”¹ “It will show unto you all things what ye should do.”²

Nothing invites the Spirit more than fixing your focus on Jesus Christ. Talk of Christ, rejoice in Christ, feast upon the words of Christ, and press forward with steadfastness in Christ.³ Make your Sabbath a delight as you worship Him, partake of the sacrament, and keep His day holy.⁴

As I emphasized this morning, please make time for the Lord in His holy house. Nothing will strengthen your spiritual foundation like temple service and temple worship." (Nelson, October 2021)

 So even if those voices of warning may come when we'd rather be sleeping (literally or metaphorically), and even if they seem annoyingly repetitious, maybe it's because that's just what we need to be ready to know just what to do when that day comes...and every day in between.

The alarms were of relatively short duration and I could do other things while being mindful of them. I probably exaggerated when I said thirty minutes. It was probably ten.  Ten minutes. Is it worth those ten minutes, naturally incorporated, to be ready?

Ironically, the topic of the talk and the one that led me to it, "Seek Him With All Your Heart" by Bishop Budge 2024 both emphasized setting intentional, dedicated time to be with God, just as Jesus did during His earthly ministry. If the perfect Savior of the world needed that time, it's something to consider.  (Budge gives great ideas of how to make this time naturally and attainably incorporated into our schedule.)

Just thought I'd share! I'd love to hear ways that you find or make time to be still, to meditate, to take time to be with the Lord and experiences you've had when you've been successful...or not! 

P.S. I have plenty of the latter!  This line stood out from Budge's talk and I'm totally guilty of this! 

The Lord knew—in this fast-paced world full of distractions and in commotion—that making quality time for Him would be one of the major challenges of our day. Speaking through the prophet Isaiah, He provided these words of counsel and caution, which can be likened unto the tumultuous days in which we live:

“In returning and rest shall ye be saved; in quietness and in confidence shall be your strength: and ye would not.

“But ye said, No; for we will flee upon horses; therefore shall ye flee: and, We will ride upon the swift; therefore shall they that pursue you be swift.” 

In other words, even though our salvation depends on returning to Him often and resting from the cares of the world, we do not. And even though our confidence will come from a strength developed in quiet times sitting with the Lord in meditation and reflection, we do not. Why not? Because we say, “No, we are busy with other things”—fleeing upon our horses, so to speak. Therefore, we will get further and further away from God; we will insist on going faster and faster; and the faster we go, the swifter Satan will follow in pursuit.

Yikes!  Sometimes less is more.  I hear it a lot. Harder to apply for sure! It's one thing to know a thing and another to do it.  Good thing we have these regular "drills."

Planes, Puzzles and Plays--God's Got It Covered

 The other day, I missed my flight.  A day later, I prayed. Here's what happened in the middle...

Today, I set aside time to just BE with my kids.

In the meanwhile, there is so much in my head. So much I've chosen to put into my life...I have just been plain overwhelmed lately.  Even eliminating so much, I still find my self-doubt, criticism, lack of answers and mental health history just seem to sabotage the space I'm intentionally seeking to carve out for myself in my life. Self-sabotage, not trusting...it all came together in doing puzzles with my Penelope and Liesl this morning as God lovingly brought truths out during our "play":

*Sometimes I can't attach the piece I want to (that I pick out, I chose) because the other pieces aren't in place yet-I hate this lesson, honestly.  Sometimes you just have to wait for that vision, that moment, because the timing around you--circumstances, personal readiness, other's readiness--is just not right. (Homeschooling groups in Medina NY comes to mind!)

*Sometimes need to take apart a set of pieces in my life that's put together already to attach it to the next set to it-sometimes you have to have a season of deconstruction to make room for what's coming next.

*Sometimes I have to move out of the way physically for a piece to be put into place-we need to be movable to create space for the changes we want.

*Sometimes it takes some rotating to fit something in..you're just turned around-again, sometimes the change needed isn't so much physically, but just how we see things.

*Getting frustrated often makes it harder-while this is self-explanatory, I found doing it with a volatile, yet sweet and intentional three and six year old brought this lesson to life more sweetly and clearly.

*Hyperfocusing on one piece often makes me miss the piece I actully need to put the whole puzzle together. Penelope did this several times, trying to fit the piece in her hand "that was super special" into a spot.  It just wouldn't fit-those special blessings and dreams we seek sometimes just don't fit into that spot in our lives that we want them to.  Too much idealism, hyperfocusing on what we thing should be happening in our lives or other's lives...can just lead to frustration.

*Can't see the place to put the piece because another piece is covering the spot.  Penelope couldn't find where one of her pieces went because the rest of the pieces (symbolic of goals and dreams perhaps?) were all jumbled around and covering where it went-sometimes taking time out to clear out the jumble of ideas and potention in our lives and sort through it is important so we can find the place for pieces that come next.

*Often others help and put in large pieces of the puzzle-often God sets our puzzle piece space up like I do for my little ones so we can feel the satisfaction of putting that piece into place.

*And a lesson that stood out  particularly at the end, sometimes we pick out puzzles that are too hard for us because we really, really, really want to do them.

These lessons and the flight experience made me reflect upon our crazy and miraculous week of Acting Camp.  I truly felt God inspire me and sustaing me in what I could do and help me feel content with what I could not.   I felt the freedom to take time for myself--applying some of my self-care practices. I saw God change the words in my mouth as I was speaking them as a mentor.  It was just...incredible.

I felt God impress upon me the lessons learned that week and "suggest" that I could apply them to the bigger play that is my life, with all of it's seasons and scenes.

Harmonious background music

I think I am finally getting to the point where I am okay letting my kids grow up.  It is a lot of pressure to be a mom, a parent.  There are a lot of things to do associated with being a mom.  I do love the little things: like Liesl being super proud of herself that the toilet paper she had just wiped herself with made it into the toilet, a valuable feat.  Or watching Penelope sitting next to me “reading” books in her little half coherent, half baby babble.  Seeing my older girls laugh together and my boys zoom around on wiggle cars in “death-defying turns.” Laughing with my grown kids over media.

I will miss all of this and it will leave a hole in my heart that shall never be filled. I have thirteen beings that have made me a momma, who have enriched and stretched me. And when each one leaves–some with more finality than others–there is a vacancy.  My heart is filled and emptied, filled and empty.

Oh, my preciousness…Penelope just leaned over to give me a little kiss from “Pout Pout Fish.” I try not to let the knowledge that this moment, too, will pass from me.  I need to remember that I will make more moments and not let my heart break at the same time that they are gone.

****

I am glad for the Intuitive Eating guide that Tova gave me months ago. I can feel myself changed from the inside regarding food, exercise and appearance, although the changes are slow.  But I have lost 30 pounds since earlier this year, for which I am very grateful, as it will be easier on my heart.

I feel like my spiritual, emotional, social and physical lives have all had background music that was unhealthy in the past–internal dialogues and emotions that were damaging.  You know, you can do the same thing–with different motives and internal drives–and it is totally different if you change that background “music.”  I noticed that this morning as I was running: one song with the same beat as the next created totally different motivation to run.

Spiritually/emotionally: my therapists, Heavenly Father, Jesus Christ and Leah White, have given me so much to consider and help realign my spirituality and emotional base.  The pain is still there, but I can acknowledge it and deal with it better (wow! Do I have a lot of triggers for loss around me on a daily basis!!).

Physically: the intuitive eating thing really helps as does the regular physical therapy, yoga, and running at least a mile a day, now that I can.

Socially: I’m trying to follow my current, personal heavenly injunction to not reach out for a season. I am learning more about my value, my strength and how I had ulterior motives in reaching out so many times: reaching out with hope that others would want to reciprocate the connection I yearn for with them.

Some of my realizations are not very pretty.  But it is good to know the truth of a situation to better deal with it than continuously create heartache and struggle with false expectations.  I guess you were right, Bishop Zy Biesinger: manage expectations. I don’t know that I want to manage them, but rather just seek for the genuine truth in a situation and not demand it be different, if it is something that lies outside of my realm of control.

But overall, my physical, social, emotional and spiritual health is all much better than it was even six months ago.  God is good.

All the time.

And all the time,

God is good.

Hitting the wrong target?

 This morning, listening to the following story brought tears to my eyes:

"Many years ago, I went to a summer Scout camp with our son Justin. As the activities got underway, he excitedly announced that he and his friends wanted to earn the archery merit badge. Doing so required the boys to pass a short written test and hit a target with their arrows. My heart sank. At the time, Justin was quite frail due to cystic fibrosis, a disease he had been battling since birth. I wondered if he could pull the bow back far enough to send the arrow to the target.

"As he and his friends left for the archery class, I silently prayed that he would not be humiliated by the experience.
"A couple of anxious hours later, I saw him coming up the path toward me with a big smile. “Dad!” he exclaimed. “I got the merit badge! I got a bull’s-eye; it was on the target next to mine, but I hit a bull’s-eye!” He had pulled the bow back with all his might and let the arrow fly, unable to control its trajectory. How grateful I am for that understanding archery instructor who never said, “Sorry, wrong target!” Rather, upon seeing Justin’s obvious limitations and earnest effort, he kindly responded, “Good job!”
"That is how it will be for us if we do our very best to follow Christ and His prophets in spite of our limitations. If we come unto Him by keeping our covenants and repenting of our sins, we will joyfully hear our Savior’s commendation: “Well done, thou good and faithful servant.”*

I had just finished posting the following to my sweet daughter-in-law, Réka Biesinger, who had followed up on my recent visit with a question about how I am doing:
"I'm adjusting to being home ❤️. I am soaking in all the beautiful spirits around me, but can get overwhelmed with their needs and the endless options of things to do.

"I can totally relate to your need to keep things clean and orderly-- but sometimes that means pushing someone else's needs away; not strengthening my body for future service through my "essential" exercises; not cooking or creating things for a Halloween party; not playing a game with Tova while she's here; not going on a walk in the beautiful fall weather with my darlings....
Not doing the family calendar.
Not working on the plays and songs for our choir.
Not doing ministering.
Not studying Hungarian so I can better speak with my grandson and the beautiful Hungarian people 😉.
Not filling my personal cup of peace to strengthen and enlarge my capacity to serve.
And not sleeping, lol! (Which is probably why I'm up at 4 in the morning writing this to you ❤️)

"All such great things 💛. But I simply cannot do them all.
"So I'm seeking God's perspective through prayer and scripture: so I can feel peace when my laundry is a mile high and there are dishes in the sink 😏.

"Besides, my vacuum is broken so that's a bit of a pain to even do that simple thing.🤣

"But there is so much beauty in each moment that passes that I don't want to let stress overshadow that.
"So I'm choosing to let a lot of things go in the moment. Trusting that trying my level best is awesome, and, worst-case scenario, I dig through my laundry pile for panties for Liesl."

So when I heard the story about "missing the target" this morning, I wept. God had heard my breaking heart underneath my bravado--my concern, my earnest weak attempt to do some little good despite all I saw as "needing" to be done.
Sometimes a good cry is very clarifying.

Stepping back, I'm grateful for my limitations, honestly. They are teaching me to prioritize, have faith in Christ to literally compensate for every pain and problem caused by both my activity and inactivity, and to choose to see my life with purpose, beauty and hope.**
******

*"Hallmarks of Happiness: https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/general-conference/2023/10/31sabin?lang=eng&fbclid=IwAR3RSga7ko3sCgqq3Ou3Ac_L4YvrQbalsiHWTagyo5U3JGXZzCi00X53iLs

**which last phrase, ironically, is the theme of my children's book for Piper that I just started illustrating,... another "good thing" 😏.

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)

My Letter to Hyrum (my missionary in Denmark)

I share this because you never know who might be touched by our experiences.  Consider sharing your faith and testimony with someone you love! 

To my dear boy,

You have been so dear to me since day one…well, even since before you were born.  But I remember with particular emotion the day you came into this world and the Spirit I felt.

Why do I start my letter to you about my faith in and relationship with Jesus Christ this way?  With your birth?

Because your very presence in my life was a sign of His great mercy and love–of the intimate way with which He works with our Father to bring about joy, grace and salvation.  You were the first child born to me after Isaak’s death.  I felt very literally with your tiny, pudgy presence in my arms that God would still trust me with one of His very precious spirits.  The intimate way with which They worked together to bring about that redemptive moment is one of the dearest indications of their role in my life.

You see, that moment when I accidentally ran over your big brother was a pivotal point where my understanding of grace and works and the true love of God began to shift and become very personal.

As a kid and even until I was a young adult, I had a great testimony of works…of obeying commandments to get blessings.  And if I wasn’t getting blessings or wasn’t thriving, it must be because I wasn’t working hard enough.  So I pushed myself emotionally and physically– relentlessly pushing toward the illusion of self-earned exaltation.  I paid lip-service to the grace of God. I knew of the love of God, but my ownership over my sins and my perfection was wrong.

With Isaak’s death, I couldn’t fix it. I couldn’t fix anything.  The ripple effect of that one act was staggering–not only in my life but in the life of those around me.  My sandy foundation of “Mary can do this on her own!” was ripped out from underneath me and I was spiraling, clinging to whatever I could to endure.  I still remember clearly the moment in March of the next year when I realized that because I could still feel the Spirit, I had somehow been forgiven by Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father of any owned responsibility in Isaak’s passing.

Your birth?  Another divine confirmation of God’s love for me.

.

From that day forward, I continued to experience the grace of Jesus Christ, even if I have not always been so great at receiving it. He and the Father have been intimately involved in the raising of all of you: guiding us to Hungary where we became closer as a family and developed testimonies; guiding us back to Utah and then to New York for all those precious experiences that we have had that have shaped our family and each of you.

I see the hand of Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father directly in my parenting.  They not only use experiences with my kids to teach them but to teach me.  Case in point: we were doing end of the year testing last week and Xai was stressing over the fact that he didn’t know the answer to one of the questions.  I had assured the kids (as I always do) that their performance on these tests is not an indication of their intelligence nor their worth, but he needed a specific reminder. 

“Xai, no matter what your answer is to this question, no matter what your score is on this test, the important thing is that you are taking it.  That fulfills the law.  If you are doing your best, that is all I ask.  Keep trying and just finish it. The answer to this question doesn’t really matter in the long run. I know that you will learn it by the time you leave my house and grow up on your own if it does matter.”

Later, as I was stressing over one thing or another in my own life, the words I shared with Xai floated back into my mind, but this time with the context of a much bigger test–my life.  I felt the truthfulness of it and struggled to apply the same confidence I felt as the parent to try and understand better God’s perspective with my own personal performance in this life.  

You see?  He is my teacher.  Any time my heart is open enough, reaching enough, humble enough, They both teach me.  I cannot speak about One without the Other.  The Father and the Son are truly one God: in Their work, in Their love.

So as a parent, I have been able to shaped by my Mentors, in much the same way of this beloved picture you might remember from our home.

Seeing Their hand in your life has been particularly meaningful: in the times you have come to me after stealing some candy; the times you have come, struggling with sin; the times you have come to me hurt by those around us…my sweet, tender boy.  Watching you grow, struggle and progress has been one of the greatest joys of my life.  You are a gift to me.

I cannot be complete in my expression of my relationship with and faith in Christ without sharing His role in my mental health journey.  Not only have I seen people, ideas and experiences placed in my life in timely ways (like Pilgrim’s Progress, the villains and the heroes), but I have felt the direct presence of Them.

I would like to share two of the many ways that Christ and the Father are present in my life:

MENTOR:  A good mentor provides a loving environment for growth by: giving encouragement and direction; letting the individual stretch their wings; and providing opportunities to learn and apply what they know.  I have seen Them direct two specific events as an indication of this…

1. At Isaak’s passing, my mom was driving over to the house, the scene of the accident.  As she came, she watched the life-flight helicopter circle over our house.  “Please let it land,” she pled.  But it didn’t.  As her soul absorbed this fact and she continued towards the house, she was able to perceive clearly the roles of the Godhead at that scene.  The Father was directing the events and people.  The Spirit was there like a balm over everything.  (Even the firefighters spoke in hushed tones and remarked about the feeling that was there.) And she felt distinctly that Christ’s role was to take Isaak in His arms and carry him to heaven. 

2. When I went catatonic at Medina, that month where I retreated from life for healing, I can look back and see a very direct intercession of God, Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost each taking on specific, concerted roles the road to my healing that month.  A climax was when I was in Utah–using a ticket I had bought on sale months before “maybe for Lily?” I had thought.  During that very directed week, I was led to a mental health professional by Angie Moore, who “happened” to have an opening in his schedule at the perfect time in my week.  Laying down on that couch and undergoing his professionally directed hypno-healing was an experience of redemption I will never forget as I confronted and forgave myself for what I had done about 15 years previous to that.  Walking out of that office I felt a peace I had never imagined…all the more stark because of the years of torment before it.  A peace that was only possible through the Atonement of Jesus Christ.  His grace and God’s ongoing ministration brought about peace of conscience to a mother who had run over her son.  If that is not an indication of the great power, love and mercy of the Godhead, I don’t know what is.

COMFORTER:  Strangely, two experiences again surge to the forefront of my mind that I would like to share to help illustrate this role of Them in my life: 

1. I was standing in the field at the park next to our house in Medina. I can see it so clearly.  I had just counseled for the first time with President Pace about my mental health struggles, my self-hate and torment over Isaak’s death reaching a fevered pitch during that month that I walked away from life.  I remember President Pace standing right next to me and invoking an informal blessing over me. I don’t remember the words, but I remember how it felt.  Oh, Hyrum.  The physical presence of immense strength, compassion and love for me was tangible and hugely real in a deeply spiritual, physical way that I can still remember what it felt like. It felt like I could just lean into that presence and find rest. When I would get overwhelmed by turmoil inside I would just close my eyes and lean into the strength of that memory–only it wasn’t just a memory! It has been there for me. In a very real sense, my Savior was there in that field of Medina, standing next to me through His representative. It was one of the most real experiences of my life.

2. Later that month, I was on the beach in California through another series of miracles and the love from my sweet husband and parents. I spent many hours on that beach that has since become sacred in my memory.  At one point, I asked God, “What do you think of me?”  I had just allowed myself to be rolled by the powerful waves and was a little overwhelmed by the rawness of that experience.   The immense power of God–so much greater than those waves–was very immediately before me in a way I hadn’t comprehended.  If He, who had such power, had feelings for me, what could they possibly be?

I closed my mind and let it wander and felt myself being led to the space in existence when I was an intelligence, being brought out and formed.  The details were not specific, but I distinctly remember the impression of a little soul being cradled in huge, strong hands.  My Father’s hands.  And that little soul was me. “Beloved,” He whispered over me.  Beloved.

Hyrum, I adore you. It’s like with someone who always has body odor and doesn’t know they do because they are used to it but everyone else notices it, lol.  But with you, it’s LIGHT. My dear Hyrum, your light is so strong that people flock to it…because you love them, you are humble, you are sincere.  You are you.

Relax into your relationship with Christ and the Father.  Lean on them when you are low and allow yourself to feel their strength and presence in your life.  Always incorporate the scriptures, prayer, journaling (doesn’t have to be long!) and awareness of Their presence in your life.   You don’t have to be stressed to be doing God’s work.  Just intentional.

Look at your intentions.  Are they sincere?  Fabulous.  Then keep the Spirit with you through daily worship and you will not be able to help but feel motivated to do good…and rotten when you are not living and working in the Spirit, lol.  Remember that wrong roads video by Holland?  I swear that I have learned more about what the Spirit feels like by NOT following it, sadly!  But I am learning!

May They be a very real presence to you in your life.  As you can see, I have felt closer to them through my weakness, my sins, my trials.  President Young said the greatest fear he had for the Saints was prosperity.  There is something about being hurt or sad or regretful that opens our heart to change and to Their presence.  Seek for it and yearn for it like you always need it–for indeed, we always do.

I cannot say how much I love you. It is a good thing I didn’t have just one child because you would have been SMOTHER loved!  And our lives would not be nearly as fun, full, colorful and exciting.  I guess I better stop because you are probably still here reading while everyone else is done…or maybe you brought this letter home. 😀

I feel impressed to tell you that if you ever feel touched by the Spirit to share any of these experiences and anything about my life, please do!  That is probably the main positive thing–next to the development of my personal relationship with my Savior–that has come from Isaak’s death…that others can learn from my experiences.

Beauty from Ashes, my son.

Love you,  Mom

I can't do this again...

 Groping around in the pitch darkness, I couldn't find the doorway and wall that I just knew were inches from my face.  I stopped my forward motion, determined to save myself from a painful collision in the early morning moments.  As my hands moved around tentatively, searching for what seemed like empty air, I decided to finally pivot slightly 45 degrees and bam!  There was the doorframe scarce inches from my face.

It had been there the whole time.

I just hadn't seen it because I had gotten turned around in the darkness.

Disoriented.

I sure hope that is what is happening to me right now because, boy, I feel lost in the darkness with potential pain all around.

And I am stopped, paralyzed, fearing the pain.  Groping around in the darkness ahead.

******

Twenty five years ago, I was blessed to give birth to a beautiful baby girl.  Transformative. Magical.

Fast forward twenty five years and here I am with thirteen such magical, treasured experiences as each of my darlings came into this world through me.  Though years of horrid, reportable parenting exist, coupled with those are the good times: the cherished smiles and laughter; the memories; the discussions; the struggles; the growth--so much experiential abundance.

And then it started happening seven years ago...

No.  Actually, it began twenty years ago, twenty years ago last April.

They started leaving.

Isaak's tragic death was painful beyond my previous comprehension, with a soul-blasting pain that dominated my emotional health for nineteen years.  Unable to even process the magnitude of the brutal way he left existence, I was unable to simply grieve and say goodbye to my little boy. 

And then this year enter Leah, my amazing child loss/trauma therapist, who unlocked that place in my soul that lived in terror and self-shame and let me grieve that loss.

Previous to this as my children have "flown the coop," to use that normalized expression, I somehow locked that pain of their departure in that same, blinded place I kept my grief over Isaak's loss and pretty much pushed it aside.  I missed them, wrote to them, celebrated the times when I could rejoice with them and cry with them.  I was still a part of their lives. But their absence?  That was a knot that was too painful to be untied.  When people asked, "Aren't you sad that they are gone?" I would rote reply, "Yes, I miss them.  But I know that they would be unhappy staying with me and am grateful that they are owning their life and doing something with it."

As I have learned how to grieve--or let myself grieve--this year, I was surprised and overwhelmed with the backlash of emotion that came with the deep realization that Drew was gone, as he serves his church mission in Canada.  And I was sad.

And then Lily left. And I was sad.  

At first, it was overwhelming. But with help from my dear Leah, I learned to cry and cope.  Cry and cope.  And cry and cope some more, feeling the rich beauty that does coexist with the loss.

***********

So now I have had five of my darlings leave and rarely (if ever) coming home.  Oh, my heart feels so big and so achy all at the same time, in a drippy kind of way.

(In all this, I am painfully aware of countless scores of people who yearn to have one child, much less thirteen.  I know nothing I can say or do can make that right and my heart aches for them.  I am grateful.  However, sadness and pain still need to be acknowledged to be processed in a healthy way, so here goes...)

My kiddos move away.  They are untouchable. Unhugable.  I am so grateful for modern technology so that we may keep in touch with conversation and video.  But part of my momma heart yearns to hold them and wish that things were as they were.  Everyone together. Memories made. Bread broken. Tears shed. Burdens shared. Work shouldered.

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

And now it's Hyrum's turn.

Going forward into this upcoming separation, with eyes wide open, I feel like I did this morning--anticipating that painful encounter and desperately trying to avoid it.  I am so sad. SOOOOOOO  sad. Happy that he has a plan.  Happier than if he were emotionally stuck in my basement, creating chaos and confusion as he sorts out his inner self...because then I know he would be miserable just as poor Drew was for a while. It is simply so hard to accept that it could be better for my children to be away from me than close to me!

I find myself being angry, separating myself from him emotionally already. Sabotaging the time we have together with my unsettled angst about this upcoming "bonk on the head," as it were.  Piper is also joining him soon, eager to follow her life's path as she deliberately and competently moves toward her future goals at what feels like break-neck speed.

Do they all have to leave like this?  All thirteen?

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

You know, going back those twenty-five years to that first moment of motherhood, I realize that there was also pain.  Immense pain.  Back labor, misfired epidural, exhaustion.  Somehow the beauty, joy and relief at the end made all the pain worth it.

Maybe that's why, in part, the next life is supposed to be so awesome.  What a reunion that will be!

But also, perhaps, that is part of the reality of life: that with each moment of growth, transition--re-birth as it were--pain and beauty, joy and sorrow are meant to co-exist.

Can that be true?  Can I find beauty in this upcoming loss?

Maybe it's also like labor...you have to focus on getting through the pain by taking deep breaths and shifting your perspective.  The pain does not go away, but is somehow more manageable.

And I guess the only sanity-giving option is to hold onto the belief that like with bringing that new little one into this world, the end result will be worth it? But please forgive me if I scream a little and cry a lot through the current pain.