The Gift of Imperfection

I thought that I didn't care what people thought of me.  I mean, look at me.  I homeschool, have a million children and am a Mormon.  Trust me. I stick out like a sore thumb almost anywhere, a happy sore thumb :).

But the other day when I was chatting with a friend, I shared with her how I was so at peace on the Farm compared to here.  She responded, "Maybe it is because it is away from other people so you don't feel measured or judged and can just be yourself?"

But I thought I didn't care what other people thought, I replied in my head, a little puzzled.

As I have thought about this idea, though, I have realized that while I continue to do things that may look different, I am very aware of it and can feel a little defensive of it...or maybe am just mindful that others think differently and am at a deep level always preparing to brace myself for the criticism and judgment that I received, both perceived and real.  Sometimes it is very real.  And it does still hurt.

Maybe my friend was right.

I am also reading a book called "The Gifts of Imperfection" by Brene Brown.  While she has a bit of a mouth on her, she also has a lot of good things to say.  It took me a while to get into it (writing style, not sure what), but last night I felt impressed to pick it up again after a couple of months and some words reminded me of things I have been thinking about lately...
...about the Amish and their humble acceptance of God.
...about why I do what I do: do I care if my house is perfectly clean (laughable...it is never) when the missionaries come over for dinner?  It is good to be clean, but is it worth losing the Spirit in my home to be frustrated and push those around me to help in an un-Christlike way?
...why or should I share my beliefs with others?

Yesterday I was musing about something that had happened the previous week, some frustrating hiccup in the process of getting Kel ready for his mission and college afterward...or series of hiccups.  I think things are finally coming together but as I pondered on the process yesterday, I thought, "It could have gone a lot more smoothly than this...I wonder why?"

"So you can be relate-able, my daughter" came the gentle reply from above.

I was impressed that God gives us as little struggle and trials as possible to make us who we need to become.

Wherefore let them that suffer according to the will of God commit the keeping of their souls to him in well doing, as unto a faithful Creator. 1 Peter 4:19

If my life were perfect, not only would people not be able to relate to me, but I would not be able to empathize with them.  Besides, where is the trial of our faith if there is no trial? If there is no walking in the darkness alone?

There is a particularly insightful verse a little before the one above, in chapter 2 verse 20:

For what glory is it, when ye be buffeted for your faults, ye shall take it patiently? But if, when ye do well, and suffer for it, ye take it patiently, this is acceptable with God.

So we need to interact with others but not feel shame about falling short of our inner, unrealistic standards of perfection. In fact, it is our imperfections, our stories, our facing our shame (as Ms. Brown puts it) that gives us the genuine experiences of this life.

I wonder what it is that makes us feel that life, in order to be perfect, must be problem-free?

I wonder why it is that we feel that life doesn't operate like this--this idea of problem-free perfection--that we feel we are doing something wrong?

A lady I was speaking with last week said, "I just want to be happy.  Why do I have to have struggles?  It's not fair."

I felt prompted to share how Jesus Christ had a life full of problems and struggles and because of them he was able to empathize and love others.  "Maybe," I told her, "because of your experiences you will be able to understand how other people feel.  You will be able to look them in the eye and say, 'I know how you feel.'"

I mean, who has not wanted that level of empathy, especially when we are feeling so alone?

It reminds me of a couple of videos I came across yesterday:

Maybe it is good to care what others think, but not for the reasons I thought.  Maybe that is one of the central reasons of our existence: to experience pain ourselves, look at others around me and care, deeply and sincerely. To succor them, care for them and be genuine.  Be okay with our imperfections and share it.

Blogging has actually been a very interesting experience for me and my family.  I have felt pretty genuine in my presentation of our family. In fact, those moments and trials that may have seemed horrible and embarrassing (shame-ful?) when portrayed in the light of how I blog have been funny and, well, okay.  I have noticed that my kids--after reading the blog (my highest traffic source)--look on our crazy lives and their siblings with more tolerance and joy. It is almost as if our very transparent presentation of our imperfections and trials eliminates the shame or fear of shame that they might feel being in this large, diverse, crazy, homeschooling, LDS family.

Ms. Brown talks about sharing your stories of imperfection as a way of becoming shame-resilient.  We do have a lot of fears, I think, like in my first situation in this post about being mindful of the judgment (perceived or real) that we feel from those around us...the potential shame.

It can sure seem to be a burden to live surrounded by our own and others imperfection, but maybe through the enduring, sharing and relating we not only bless others but in some inexplicable way we heal ourselves.

"Using Family Councils to Improve Sabbath Day Observance"

So, when I got this topic to speak on  (and a very direct "6 minute time limit"), I'll admit I almost yawned.  Really? I thought.  How dry.

And then I thought about it.  And thought about it.  And thought about it.

The following is the "written" version of my talk, although true to my nature is it only a sketchy version, as I give myself a lot of leeway in following what I have written.  (There have been talks that I didn't refer to at all.)

I gave it last night...and did it in about 6 minutes, too :).  I think I gave a lot of hope to people who think that family councils have to be "perfect."  Well...

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

A few years ago my family lived in Hungary. One weekend, my husband (the only Hungarian speaker among us) went to visit his parents who were on their mission in Norway. Sunday morning dawned bright and early as I had a two and a half hour "commute" to church via the public transportation system since we didn't own a vehicle. There were nine of us in all and it was no easy thing. When I showed up in our little branch, one of the few English speaking members approached me and asked, "Why did you come?" I thought about it and how I could express my "why" best in my whirlwind of emotions...in the simplest way.

I simply shared with him a quote I had heard from President Faust, that if we truly understood the significance of partaking of the sacrament each week, we would crawl on hands and knees to partake if necessary.  That was what I had done, and before and since then it has felt many times like crawling  on my hands and knees to get there!  Crazy kids, judging looks, last minute poopy catastrophes, skirts dragged down in front of the entire Primary, no sleep, contention...

While I do not understand the sacrament to that depth, nor its significance, I want to. I also want the Sabbath Day to be a delight, a day of rest. So I keep trying. Today, I will try and help you see why and how you can have a family council to truly make your Sabbath Day a delight.

Over the years, we have had family councils with varying degrees of success. With 11 children and 11 very strong personalities, it has seldom been ideal. Our best ones have been when deciding the reward for finishing the Book of Mormon...and even then, people have left frustrated.

In my mind, I felt that family councils should be perfect: what is "perfect"? Everyone listens? Everyone agrees by the end? Harmony of the 12 Apostles? Yah, right :).

This morning occurred to me that Family Councils aren't meant to be that way. They are just meant to be held. Council in Heaven: 1/3 rebelled, 1/3 ambivilent, 1/3 agreed. That sums it up! I definitely have some who represent the rebellious Lucifer in some councils :).

I remember at one point, we tried to do the following:

You may want to consider holding the general family council on Sunday, which is the first day of the week; families can review the past week and plan for the coming week. This may be exactly what your family needs to help make the Sabbath a delightful experience. --Ballard

Ummm...we experienced the opposite :). I began to stop recommending we have family councils, considering all the "Train Wrecks" of the past.

But, while we don't have them consistently, we do have them. And then the Stake President challenged us to have on Sabbath Day observance. We planned on it and then we let life get in the way. When Quinn was asked to give a talk about having family councils to improve our Sabbath Day observance, we thought, hmmm, maybe we should have one.

So, family councils. Let's look at them:

When preparing for this talk, I decided to get the inside scoop: Lily: "I like family councils. I feel like I get to be part of the decision. I like to know what is going on. I think it is nice to let my voice get heard."  This surprised me, since I didn't think she really enjoyed them.  It makes me think others might not be so set against it either.

Elder Ballard's continued:

No matter what our particular family situation is, it is critical that we understand the unique circumstances of each family member. Though we may share DNA, there may be situations and circumstances among us that may make us vastly different from each other and which may require the compassionate collaboration of the family council.

Amen!

To be effective, I believe family councils must have:

-Respect.

-Let everyone be heard.

-Don't judge.

We can learn how to proceed with a family council from the Primary song,

"I lived in Heaven":

1. I lived in heaven a long time ago, it is true;Lived there and loved there with people I know. So did you.Then Heav'nly Father presented a beautiful plan,All about earth and eternal salvation for man.2. Father said he needed someone who had enough loveTo give his life so we all could return there above.There was another who sought for the honor divine.Jesus said, "Father, send me, and the glory be thine."3. Jesus was chosen, and as the Messiah he came,Conquering evil and death through his glorious name,Giving us hope of a wonderful life yet to be—Home in that heaven where Father is waiting for me.

#1 Teach the doctrine or principle: lay the foundation.

#2 Open it up for discussion and ideas

#3 Get commitment or consensus: agency!

#4 Record it

#5 Refer back to it/follow up.

So, our own Sabbath Day Observance family council. We didn't have much time, but needed to have it, so we did the following:

1-prepped with short lesson on why keep the Sabbath Day holy: with the commandment and promised blessings...the why

2-brainstormed ways to make it better (list of "do's" not only "don'ts")

--go to sleep at reasonable time

--get our church clothes ready the night before

--sing the hymns in Sacrament Meeting

--(I have a daughter who likes to know strategies going into situations) have pre-assigned buddies for the little ones

--watch Bible videos

--write letters

--prep lessons before that morning

--tranquilizer darts for the little ones

(remember, these are just the brainstormed ideas...not everyone was on board with all of them, nor were they what everyone needed—particularly the tranquilizer darts! 11 different personalities, many opinions and needs.)

3-went  around and have each one express what they want to do to improve their Sabbath Day observance. Some excitedly committed to all. (We had to drag it out of some.  Some of my older ones had their arms crossed as they lounged back with a look of open "I am so done with this.") Some only opted for the tranquilizer darts. (Still have jokes about that one.)

4- wrote all the ideas down (all of them; we got a lot of smiles and comments about the tranquilizer darts, including from my protestant friend who spent the night a month or two ago)

5-referred to it on Saturday nights when I remembered to; bear testimony of it; do it myself.

It is important to do this without guilt trips or weighty or sarcastic follow-up comments.  That just kills agency.  And love.  And the Spirit, which is the most effective change-maker.  

We had it, it took about 20 minutes of torture (or a little longer) and then we kept living.  And trying, doing a lot of things right and some weeks just using the list as a way to re-commit and do better the next week.  And try to do it joyfully :).

Was it worth it?  I had my 14 year come up to me a couple months later and say, "You know, I really like Sunday. It makes me feel rested."

He is one of the tranquilizer dart boys. What came of our quick family council? Awareness. Meditation. Purpose. Results.

Doesn't have to be perfect. Doesn't have to be complicated.  Our Sabbath days are better. It is not an accident. It is a choice now. We don't always choose it, but we know how :)!  I know that as we follow the council to hold these family counsels we will be blessed.  

Enjoying the Light

Just had a huge ah-ha!!!

I was just praying, thanking Heavenly Father for the amazing joy and peace I felt while at the adult session of our Stake Conference last night. (Firm believer that you are blessed for being where you are supposed to be!) So much peace.  So much joy.

As I prayed, thanking Him, I thought of Alma's experience (chapter 36):

 12 But I was racked with ^aeternal ^btorment, for my soul was ^charrowed up to the greatest degree and racked with all my sins.

15 Oh, thought I, that I ^acould be banished and become extinct both soul and body, that I might not be brought to stand in the presence of my God, to be judged of my^bdeeds.

 16 And now, for three days and for three nights was I racked, even with the ^apains of a ^bdamned soul.

 17 And it came to pass that as I was thus ^aracked with torment, while I was ^bharrowed up by the ^cmemory of my many sins, behold, I ^dremembered also to have heard my father prophesy unto the people concerning the coming of one Jesus Christ, a Son of God, to atone for the sins of the world.

 18 Now, as my mind caught hold upon this thought, I cried within my heart: O Jesus, thou Son of God, ^ahavemercy on me, who am ^bin the ^cgall of bitterness, and am encircled about by the everlasting ^dchains of ^edeath.

 19 And now, behold, when I thought this, I could remember my ^apains ^bno more; yea, I was harrowed up by the memory of my sins no more.

 20 And oh, what ^ajoy, and what marvelous light I did behold; yea, my soul was filled with joy as exceeding as was my pain!

 21 Yea, I say unto you, my son, that there could be nothing so exquisite and so bitter as were my pains. Yea, and again I say unto you, my son, that on the other hand, there can be nothing so exquisite and sweet as was my joy.

That captured my feelings!  The feelings of joy last night and this morning contrasted so much with the feelings of anxiety, doubt and depression that I had been feeling...and it felt so amazing.  The thought came across my mind: maybe you felt the dark so you could more fully appreciate the light.

Opposition in all things.  That we may know the good from the evil.

"It is better for us to pass through sorrow and pain that we may know the good from the evil."

Adam and Eve were cast from the garden of Eden so they could progress, so they could improve...so they could experience this contrast and know to choose the good.

Right now, I will enjoy the light.

Anxiety Part 2

My mom sent me a beautiful email.  She has always been a great example about just doing what she could and (at least seeming :)...) to be at peace with what she couldn't.  She says herself that she is not much ruled by anxiety.  I say "seeming" because I know that there are things that she has struggled with emotionally, but overall, she does exude a feeling of acceptance of the Lord's will in her life and acknowledgment that she can only do so much.

My mom mentioned that perhaps the unfinished state of our house could have something to do with my anxiety right now...my feelings that I cannot create a feeling of peace and refuge for my family.  I have wondered about that as the construction process takes much longer than we originally anticipated.  Yes, Dave...you were right :).  I still remember sitting across from my dear brother at a restaurant before moving to New York, sharing our family vision with this house and hearing him say, "You know, Mary, projects like that always take longer than you think." I remember distinctly feeling, "Well, yes, but this case will be different..."  Mm-hm!  I guess not :).

I have smiled so many times at the fact that many of the homes here in western New York are in varying degrees of construction so if I were to have a home under constant construction and a state of huge unfinished-ness, this is the place to feel at home with that!  Love this place. Love the people. It is just a reality of where we are.

But yes.  I think that this is part of the problem that I need to deal with.  My mom finishes up her email to me with this:

We come from a perfect calm place called heaven. To feel that peace we need a piece of it on earth. But then I think of the people in Africa with a tin roof that are full of peace and happiness and everything I wrote above goes out the window. Remember I love you and be a little kinder to my daughter. Love those chillins for me! 

Hugs!  Mom

These thoughts have run ruts around in my mind as well.  This unfinished state has been a very physical, seemingly drawn out reminder of my own unfinished state.  The challenge all along has been to find the peace in the process. To find that Africa-like place of contentment in the process of acknowledging there is simply nothing more to be done. This is simply all we can do.  Maybe it is so hard to acknowledge after seeing God do so much with me? Maybe I am left wondering, if you can fix so many things miraculously, why not me?

I replied to my mom:

I have also felt the same thing about the people in Africa.  Maybe the difference is that that is all they can do with their resources?  And this is not?  Maybe this is all we can do with our resources? I am learning a great deal about "finishing things" and my obsession with that in this process. Maybe this is my way to learn?  Thanks for your love and thoughts.  Maybe it is because I am so hard on myself that I am like this. Unlike the Amish, I haven't truly embraced the realization that I am just not perfect and will not be in this life..  Why is that so hard to learn?  Maybe it is because I have felt moments of perfection...although that has always been at times when the Spirit has been there, supplementing and enhancing my own efforts and contributions to a moment.  Interesting.   

That phrase after all I can do has been running through my head as I have experienced several days in a row of non-Spirit enhanced days.  And not for lack of trying.  The Spirit has been here, but I have distinctly felt a pulling back of the usual divine intervention to bless and accentuate my efforts to be more than my capacity. To leave me to my own.  And I am forced to see that I do have limitations :).  And I can still find joy.

Let me see if I can capture this in words.

I have experienced many moments in my life where God has distinctly and hugely added His divine touch to my efforts and created miracles: in youth groups, plays, talks, my family...and I have loved it.   In fact, I now realize that I love it so much, that I have looked around at my home and irrationally thought: if I just push myself hard enough, this would all be done. I list all my projects and think, I have seen miracles before...if I just do more, than this would be done...And that horrible follow-up thought, so why isn't my life "better"?

Wow.  This writing process, again.  The things I am learning.

My mentality is wrong.  It is false.

It is as if I am inherently believing that life is truly a check-list that if I throw myself into it hard enough, God will keep helping me check off things that seem "bigger and better." But right now, it is as if He wants me to see that while it is true that "all I can do" is not very much, it is still beautiful.  And I can still feel peace.  And not beat myself up.  And I can trust Him and that the battles are truly His.  The judging, protecting and providing are truly His, as I referred to in my previous article about the covenant relationship with God, and my job is to love.

I am my worse slave-driver and I think He is trying to teach me to stop. Stop beating myself up.  Trusting more.  Maybe He is trying to teach me the beauty of my perceived imperfection...to stop and be still.  Numerous previous posts center on this and I sense that anyone reading must tire of the repetition :).  I read my last post and see all the fighting words in it, as thought throwing myself at it will defeat the problem when what I need to do is be submissive, humble, trusting.

In my Amish book, it says that an Amish person would never apologize for the dirty state of their house when someone walks in.  To do so, would be to claim that you and your home should be perfect and there is none perfect but God.  I have thought about this a lot lately.  And that I am, in effect, continuously apologizing to the world and beating myself up because I am not perfect.  But there is none perfect but God.

Now I need to make sure that I don't beat myself up because I beat myself up :).  Ahhhh, the cruel cycles we get ourselves into.  Maybe I don't need to "make sure" of anything.  Maybe I just need to go and listen to the birds outside my window, the stream at the bottom of my messy yard and breathe.

In. Out.

Have you ever watched kids on a merry-go-round,or listened to rain slapping the ground?
Ever followed a butterfly's erratic flight,or gazed at the sun fading into the night?
You better slow down, don't dance so fast,time is short, the music won't last.

Do you run through each day on the fly,when you ask "How are you?", do you hear the reply?
When the day is done, do you lie in your bed,with the next hundred chores running through your head?
You better slow down, don't dance so fast,time is short, the music won't last.

Ever told your child, we'll do it tomorrow,and in your haste, not see his sorrow?
Ever lost touch, let a friendship die,'cause you never had time to call and say hi?
You better slow down, don't dance so fast,time is short, the music won't last.

When you run so fast to get somewhere,you miss half the fun of getting there.
When you worry and hurry through your day,it's like an unopened gift thrown away.
Life isn't a race, so take it slower,hear the music before your song is over.

Re-Post of "Finding Self-Worth in a Selfie World"

Just in case you didn't follow the earlier link, here is the short article I referred to in my last post.

I was 11 years old when I realized I had no friends. It was the beginning of 5th grade in a new school, and, besides, everybody probably feels similar when they’re that young anyway. But even if that’s true, it didn’t soften the blow when the Val-O-Grams—those special valentines students purchased and had sent to their best friends—were delivered to all the classrooms and everyone seemed to get ten and I only got one—and it was from my mom.

I was 17 years old when I experimented with the harshest of hair products because the statement I was making with my ripped jeans and worn boots wasn’t getting enough of the attention I wanted from my high school peers. If they weren’t looking at or talking about me, it was as if I didn’t exist.

I was 21 years old when I knew I was the worst missionary in the history of the Church. I wasn’t baptizing as much as others, I wasn’t called to leadership positions when younger missionaries were, and I simply didn’t feel the persistent, all-encompassing glow I once associated with missionary work and righteousness and following the rules.

I was 26 years old when I finally graduated from college and was offered a job I felt I had to accept to feel like a contributing adult. And soon after I took the job, I silently wished that I could go back and start over again. Because, at the time, I wasn’t brave enough to say no to a job I knew wouldn’t fulfill me even though it would pay my bills. Because I wasn’t traveling the world or interning at Universal Studios or playing in the NFL or publishing bestsellers or making the kind of money that would ensure an early and prosperous retirement. I was at a desk. And it appeared everyone else was living their dream.

And I was 28 years old when my wife was diagnosed with a terminal lung disease. And beyond how many friends I had, how good-looking I felt I was, how respected I was by my peers, how glamorous or rich I was or wasn’t, my understanding of self-worth became how I used my new pain and past experiences to acquire the compassion necessary to truly love someone other than myself. And what if that’s the secret? What if pouring yourself—the good and the hidden—into those around and beyond you afforded you the kind of self-worth you can’t get from social media or one of the thousands of self-help books crowding our shelves? What if outward compassion rather than inward reflection is the barometer with which God measures our intended purpose and value? Well, I think it might be. Or at least it’s a strong component. Because I’ve never felt more worthy as a son of God than when I first started washing my wife’s hair because lifting her own arms to shampoo her hair became too much for her lungs to handle. I’ve never felt so purposeful and satisfied than when I made the obvious choice of disappearing into the full-time care and round-the-clock concern of a most precious and delicate daughter of God.

Maybe not having friends in 5th grade meant I wasn’t being a friend to my classmates. Maybe not feeling attractive in high school meant I needed to step away from my mirror and look out my window. Maybe not receiving the leadership roles I felt I needed in order to really make a difference as a missionary meant that I wasn’t fully serving those closest to me—my missionary companions and the families who were looking to us for gospel understanding. Maybe feeling enslaved to a job that wasn’t the coolest or most lucrative meant that I didn’t yet understand that it would be outside the hours of 9 to 5 where my happiest, hardest, and most sacred work would be done. And maybe feeling cheated by 78 “likes” on a posted picture that I thought deserved a million means I’ve swung too far from what I once understood about self-worth and have parlayed my divine identity into an idea of someone I’m not quite and perhaps never will be.

I’m now 29 years old. And maybe that’s too young to know exactly who or what I am. But being 29 is probably old enough to know what I’m not. I know I’m not merely a resume or a cultural demographic or a body type or a tax bracket or a profile picture. And I know I’m not reduced to those arbitrary things because I know I am more than simply myself.

I am what I am to my wife and to my friends and family and to my neighbors and coworkers and fellow freeway drivers. I am what I am to the 54-year-old server who cleans up after me and thanks me for coming in even though I under-tipped. I am what I am to the person who doesn’t like me and especially to the person I’m not too fond of either. I am what I am to those I should be serving more, to those I should be reaching out to more, to those I should be writing to instead of writing this. I am how I love others because that’s one of the few things I can actually control in this life, and it’s possibly the only way I can tangibly measure my true self-worth. But mostly, I am how I love others because that’s all God asks of me—and because that’s all I can give Him. And maybe that’s good enough.

---

Henry Unga is a proud native of Provo, Utah, with a degree in literature and a voracious passion for food and his family. When he isn't blogging, hiking, or searching for the perfect burger, you'll find him sitting next to his lovely wife on a nearby park bench reading War and Peace, which he'll never finish.

Anxiety: Satan's Tool pt 1

Okay. I am so done with this.

The waking up in the middle of the night, panicking over what I am not doing right, over what I have done wrong, over the many things I think I should do...as if this life is all about getting a certain amount of things done for the grade.

When I was in high school, I got the instant (and relatively meaningless) gratification that comes from jumping through enough hoops in the right way to get an "A." Oh, I was good at it.

At school.  At church.  (Not so much at home, but that is the story of another time :).  It was my place to feel safely imperfect...and I was! Imperfect and safe, much to the sadness of my family many a time, I am sure.)

The grade.  The pat on the back.  The knowledge that I was doing at least enough to get the recognition of doing enough from those around me.  I don't know that it was to try and be better than others...just to prove to my doubting self, my struggling self-worth, that I was doing something right.

When I went to the Farm last week (yes, it is a title of a place in my heart right now), I felt peace. I felt no anxiety. I felt content.

Did that mean I didn't do anything?  That I got nothing "done"?  No.  On the contrary, my days were full of kids, work, studying, games, laughing, snuggling...peace.  There was something about that place (and I felt it in DC and when I went to visit other places, like Maryland two weeks ago, come to think of it), that washed away all these tiny doubts that plague me:
--am I doing enough in homeschooling?
--what about all those projects in the yard I could and should be working on to create not only a beautiful and clean environment for my family but would also be a way to beautify our neighborhood and show responsibility with our possessions?
--what about my time spent with my kids? Am I ruining it in my haste?..

...quick interjection on this one: just yesterday morning I was finally taking time for my little ones. I had even picked up some fruity cereal loops to make necklaces.  Little Spooner came running up to the table with glee when I said time for school.  I had pulled out some of the old workbooks that weren't done and they all started doing things with them.

Was I present? No. I was spending the time reorganizing and straightening around them, not really paying much attention to their chatter and enthusiasm.

So then I brought out the fruit loops.  And couldn't find any yarn.  Anywhere.  I spent 20 minutes heckling children to go and find some, missing the precious happiness at the table and spreading doubt and frustration as to what we were doing and what was important.  My kind and eager children's enthusiasm to help their stressing mother waned into doubt as to their ability to help me, despite their best efforts. (Story of all those wonderful people who try and help me in my life?)

We find some kind of thread to use.  I pour out bowls, turn to Spooner and get him started.  And then leave. I leave a three year old to make his own necklace.  Then come back moments later and get after him for heaven forbid eating most of what he puts on.  Right away.  I punish him by taking it away and with my mean tones.  Poor dear says, "Sorry, Mommy," with the saddest face ever.  Do I melt?  Now, I do.  Then I didn't. I sit next to him and fume about how I don't get unhealthy things for them just to eat...they have to mean something or have some worth.  Ouch.  I cringe just hearing myself in my head. 

Now.  I have a couple different options when I remember things like this (or when the Spirit brings it to my remembrance).  I can sit there and beat myself up.  Or, I can take this as one of those admonitions from the Lord, check my heart, repent, come up with a mental alternative for when this situation or one like it happens again, and determine to do better.

I need to deal with this.  This anxiety is ruining things. I spent I don't know how long yesterday just wandering from mess pile to mess pile in my house, uselessly wondering and wandering and feeling completely overwhelmed.
--I must have too many things
--should I just put everything down and go snuggle?
--who should I snuggle with first?
--what about that mess?
--what about the allowance that I told everyone I would get them yesterday?
--what about lunch?
--good, better, best...good, better, best...

I can hear this litany of questions even now!  I am so busy trying to answer them that I am getting nowhere.

I spoke with my mom yesterday about it, about knowing how unhealthy and wrong this is.  About how many friends I hear that deal with the same things.

How I am determined to find answers. To find peace. I have tasted it. It is possible.

I know this has been more of a rambling type post. I know that many others out there deal with this thing called anxiety.  We are many of us anxious about one thing or another. I know the scriptures tell us to be "anxiously engaged in a good cause" but so many more times tell us to trust God and be at peace, to do all that we can do and then rely upon the Lord. "Cheerfully do all things that lie in your power and then stand still, with utmost assurance, for the arm of the Lord to be revealed..." or something like that (D&C 123:17...check it out.  It's awesome.)

As I was looking up the end of that previously memorized scripture, the Lord showed me the beginning part of my answer in an article:
Finding Self Worth in a Selfie World

It confirmed my answer that I received this morning, recorded on my notepad on my phone and left upstairs:
-Be Present
-Follow the Spirit and keep doing that thing until the Spirit dictates that I should stop
-Laugh More and List Less
-Charity Never Faileth

These are all things I can do.  In fact, I need to stop doing things in order to do them, not do more.

Wow.  That's crazy.  (I am continually amazed by the things that "come out of my fingers" when I start writing, truths that seem to have been hidden therein.)

I don't have to add more time to do what will help. I can do this.  With God's help, we can do this, I should say.

My mind seeks to create a new list for today.  Sigh. Old habits will die hard.  However, with the recognition that this will not add more time, but take things out, why am I already worried about failing?  What is failure? I don't believe God will meet us at the pearly gates with a long list of everything we did in this life to prove our worth. It will be who we are and what we have become, who we have served and how we did it.  As my dear friend Andrea said, what if our life's mission is to help one person?  What if it is? And what if we spend so much time running around worrying about why our mission doesn't look like someone else's that we miss it?

Every time I turn to God, He is telling me to slow down. To trust more.  To have the peace and joy that comes through charity, which never faileth.  Charity: suffer long, envy not, seek not my own.

As I experienced that blessed peace on the Farm and now this debilitating anxiety and stress immediately afterward, I have wondered if maybe I am experiencing this (in part) so that I would know what it feels like, much as I learned depth of sorrow and the limitless power of the Atonement through the death of my son,...that dear,dear little boy that I yearn to hold in my arms in the eternities.
Maybe I am experiencing this so that I can not only relate to others, but so that we may find answers together, battle together, find peace together.

Satan is truly wielding his chain, swinging it over the whole earth and laughing, laughing at the paralysis he is causing among the women of the world and some men. I wonder if Anxiety is one of the modern plagues of this world, created by false reflections of self image, and, like in the article referenced above,

Maybe not having friends in 5th grade meant I wasn’t being a friend to my classmates. Maybe not feeling attractive in high school meant I needed to step away from my mirror and look out my window. Maybe not receiving the leadership roles I felt I needed in order to really make a difference as a missionary meant that I wasn’t fully serving those closest to me—my missionary companions and the families who were looking to us for gospel understanding. Maybe feeling enslaved to a job that wasn’t the coolest or most lucrative meant that I didn’t yet understand that it would be outside the hours of 9 to 5 where my happiest, hardest, and most sacred work would be done. And maybe feeling cheated by 78 “likes” on a posted picture that I thought deserved a million means I’ve swung too far from what I once understood about self-worth and have parlayed my divine identity into an idea of someone I’m not quite and perhaps never will be.

This is just the beginning. Part I, baby. Satan will not win.  I will fight. I will prove that charity never faileth...through the grace of God.

**I was going to post this on this blog. I accidentally pulled up my Singing Bees one and started writing.  When I discovered my "error," I feel it was for a reason. I will double post it, so sorry for the repeat for any who might read both (other than my dear husband :)...)..  Any others who have ideas or experiences that they would like to share, I would greatly benefit from your own experiences, your own successes.  We can do this!

True Faith: Believing Even "If Not"

Quick thoughts from scripture reading and seminary with my son...an answer to my "whine"?

 1 Peter 2:20 For what glory is it, if, when ye be buffeted for your faults, ye shall take it ^apatiently? but if, when ye do well, and ^bsuffer for it, ye take it ^cpatiently, this is ^dacceptablewith God.

From the following talk:

A furious Nebuchadnezzar told them that if they would not worship as commanded, they would immediately be cast into a burning fiery furnace. “And who is that God that shall deliver you out of my hands?”2The three young men quickly and confidently responded, “If it be so [if you cast us into the furnace], our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand.” That sounds like my eighth-grade kind of faith. But then they demonstrated that they fully understood what faith is. They continued, “But if not, … we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.”3 That is a statement of true faith.

They knew that they could trust God—even if things didn’t turn out the way they hoped.4 They knew that faith is more than mental assent, more than an acknowledgment that God lives. Faith is total trust in Him.

Our scriptures and our history are replete with accounts of God’s great men and women who believed that He would deliver them, but if not, they demonstrated that they would trust and be true.

He has the power, but it’s our test.

What does the Lord expect of us with respect to our challenges? He expects us to do all we can do. He does the rest. Nephi said, “For we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do...”19

Our God will deliver us from ridicule and persecution, but if not. … Our God will deliver us from sickness and disease, but if not … . He will deliver us from loneliness, depression, or fear, but if not. … Our God will deliver us from threats, accusations, and insecurity, but if not. … He will deliver us from death or impairment of loved ones, but if not, … we will trust in the Lord.

Our God will see that we receive justice and fairness, but if not. … He will make sure that we are loved and recognized, but if not. … We will receive a perfect companion and righteous and obedient children, but if not, … we will have faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, knowing that if we do all we can do, we will, in His time and in His way, be delivered and receive all that He has.20 

Whine

The Goob put Binks to bed at 10 pm for me last night as I gratefully sunk into bed. 

From 3:30 to 4:40 am I tried everything but nursing to get him to sleep again and finally succumbed.

Something woke me up at 6 am and I lay there wondering if I should try and show  the self-discipline to wake myself and my kids up with the 6:30 alarm--"early to bed and early to rise" and all that jazz going through my head--when my decision was made for me.  Wonder baby started fussing at 6:17 am.

All my Amish resolve and wisdom for the past week, along with years of attempted commitments to just "roll with it," go out the window at this little adversity.  Here I am on this computer, trying to pretend that I am not tired, not deep and fumingly angry at this innocent little lamb.  Ignoring him and his happy bubbly sounds as he wanders the house and as I wish I could just have a few hours more of sleep.  Knowing how unfounded and selfish my anger is.

I have been getting better but I guess this anger/entitlement thing isn't rooted out yet.