How Can I Keep From a Singing?

How do I write this year?

 How do I hold it in any longer?

 Can I drag myself up onto a rock in order to pause for a moment, escape from the current has been pulling me forward for the last 10 months?

 It has certainly been a breathless, breathtaking journey.

I  spent May and June adjusting to my new experience. I worked at the birth center as much as I could, loving every minute of it. I interacted with five  different groups of students, even being asked to help with some training. I invested my heart into pleasing them. I was constantly nervous of making mistakes. And I made some. One was at the end of a 3 birth marathon with little sleep or nourishment for over 24 hours. It was not a huge mistake, but crushing nonetheless. I stepped into the other room to let a few tears leak out, but discovered by a fellow student melted into a complete mess of tears and sobs. And then the midwife found us. She was so kind, but I'm sure rolling her eyes at my passion. Even then, nobody ever had any criticism of my work. I learned fast and worked hard and long and cheerfully. I loved the heck out of everyone.

It's hard for me to think about, let alone write. My heart was all the way in. And I guess it's not supposed to be that way with business. Somehow it doesn't make it easier knowing that something so devastating on my end was just another day of business for them. My passion scares them, I guess. I can't blame them. It scares me all the time.
It's hard for me to write about cause I don't want to paint it like I was the victim. I don't like to be in that space because it's not helpful and it's not fair. Their feelings and decisions are as valid as mine.
But I have to write it because for me, it was BIG.
I'm proud that I walked away with my head held high having spoken honestly about the problems I'd seen. I wanted to be a part of the solution. I offered to be.
I was haunted for months that I walked away with the accusation of emotional issues and doubts of whether I had what it takes to deal with the hard stuff of midwifery. "Not a good fit."
It was hard to hear that about a place where I felt like I was born to be. I thought I fit perfectly.
It was physically painful to get my books out and study. I was up many many nights with anxiety wondering if it could have been different. Repenting, trying to own my part and finding no way to fix it.
I didn't let it get me down. I moved on, going to births with other midwives, continuing my studies, enjoying the heck out of my kids.
But it was so frustrating that it hurt every single day. I'm terribly sad and confused by it to this day, though it is not the distracting painful kind of sadness it was for so long.
I'm being really honest and vulnerable about my passion here. I know it seems ridiculous that this was so hard on me. I had to live with that, too. That I was hurting and it was ridiculous.
But I know a big part of this journey is coming to terms with my passion and learning how to let it show. Learning how to use it and channel it to help people. So there it is: the ridiculous side. I have to be okay with it cause shaming it away doesn't work, and neither does putting walls up to protect myself.

Then I got pregnant.

I could write volumes on the saga of trying to decide if I'm done having kids. We had decided that everything was pointed in that direction. Time to move on. So when it happened it was this sweet amazing miracle that was helping me make sense of the birth center thing. It was hard news for other members of my family. Like devastatingly and understandably hard. How does a heart hold that kind of stuff?

I held it. And we went to Islsnd Park and watched the great American Eclipse, and had a wonderful time. And I geared up for another great homeschool year. And I fell asleep every night with a smile on my lips thinking about my little baby and how it felt like Christmas that I get to do this one more time with the new perspective of a midwife.

I was going to births with Roxanna all summer, and loving it so much! Loving the friendship and the difference of working at a birth without feeling so much pressure to be perfect. It was lovely learning. We spent a couple of days trying to get a client into labor that really needed to have her baby before she moved across the country. I spent a night on her bedroom floor listening to her story while she paced through contractions. I LOVE the connection in this work! How sad I was that my own contractions and bleeding and loss might mean I would miss her birth after spending all that time with her!

That was hard. Painful, messy, confusing. Feeling ashamed and humiliated as I sifted through gory contents trying to find anything to hold on to for just a moment. Something to validate my pregnancy, my love for that person, my pain.

That mama didn't know about my miscarriage until after her birth that I attended 2 weeks after our original attempt. How sweet and healing it was to be s part of her experience and hold her darling girl. In this work you get into people's lives and homes and hearts, and they get into yours. And they never leave. I don't want them to.

Then I got invited to be a part of opening a birth center with some of the loveliest people I know. That has been a beautiful journey. I started my own business to help fund the project. We started a business together and found a place to fix up. Our church started a 12 week course on starting a business that linked me with a wonderful network of support and information. I started getting paid for some of my work!

During this time of learning to love myself and others better, I started having a lot of questions about my own faith and my church. Some really hard situations came up that opened my understanding to the pain people go through when they question their faith. They are not bad. They didn't do something wrong or hang with the wrong crowd or stray. It is genuinely painful to have things in your heart clash with what you see going on in your church. I'm not going anywhere. God has made it clear I'm where I'm supposed to be. But I have a lot of respect and compassion and love for people who have the courage to reject false traditions and follow what they think is right. Even when that means they leave.

Dallin and I went on a cruise for a week to celebrate 20 years together and strengthen our family at a parenting conference held on board. It was wonderful.

Our Christmas was the most magical yet! We all worked so hard to sew and sell over 100 gift bags. We gave away 3 Christmas jars! Having all the kids home and together was so wonderful. The older kids were so invested in our family vision for the season that we started to really understand the power of 10! We had our first live tree in 15 years. A sweet miracle of our home teacher showing up with one just days after my heart began to long for one. It's still up because it actually grew!!  I like to think it was because of all the love in the air! Another miracle was Nathan being able to go through the temple and submit his mission papers. What a sweet way to begin the day of our special family "giving day" celebration. We each got a chance to give gifts to each family member and speak and record words of love about each other. It was hard to let the season end.

And that made January a little rough at first. It always is. Even when I try really hard not to set resolutions, I still struggle. But I powered through and got some good homeschool momentum going. I had some great experiences with births I attended.
I even got called to a birth center birth where I think I proved I can handle tough situations.
I got invited to attend a conference on healing from secondary trauma as a healthcare provider. It was three exhausting days of awesome. That's how I ended the week of attending a traumatic birth. How beautifully life unfolds.

Two more births last week make 43 for me since last April. I started an apprenticeship, lost 40 lbs, became a doula, started 2 businesses, had a pregnancy, lost it along with 2/3 of my hair, got a puppy, had an incredible faith crisis/journey, went on my first cruise, took my first kid through the temple, met dozens of amazing people, learned and learned, loved and loved. The birth center, My birth center, will be open within the month. I'm scheduled to catch a baby for the first time in April.

One year ago, I could not have even imagined most of these things. But God prepared me, and he has led me along through all of the highs and lows. My resolution is and will always be to be His. All the other stuff is just fruits of that relationship. I surrender this New Year to Him. He knows how to do it better.

Facebook Post about Losing Weight

What's on my mind? My body. I'm so thankful for it. This is long, but bear with me. I'm trying to change the world.
People are starting to notice that I've lost weight this year. They're asking what I've been doing. It makes me a little uncomfortable because I hate our culture's obsession with body image. So what do I say? Here's my story:
I've struggled with my weight since puberty when I went from size 5 to size 12 in a matter of weeks in 7th grade. Always hated my huge breasts and curvy hips. Detested shopping for clothes because cute stuff never looked good on me. Gained a lot of weight during pregnancy. I never lost weight when nursing. Spent years studying nutrition, trying to find the perfect diet. Tried and tried and tried to exercise regularly. Willpower was always short lived. The needs of my family always trumped that battle. A few years ago I finally put it in Gods hands and trusted He would walk me through it in his gentle way. He has. What did I do?
First, I loved Him. Then he showed me how to love me. Then he showed me how to love everyone else better. For over 3 years I worked on ditching the shame. I ate what I wanted without guilt, and thanked God for the food I enjoyed. I only exercised if I wanted to. I worked on being grateful for my body just the way it was, accepting that if it never changed I'd be fine.
Earlier this year I made the most important step. I repented of all the judgemental thoughts I'd had about other people's weight or lifestyles.
And the poison flowed out.
I realized I'd been holding myself to standards that had been set by my own stupid and false judgements of others.
THAT is what I've been doing to lose weight.
I also by the grace of God (not willpower) happen to not like sugar anymore, I occasionally listen to hypnosis tracks that help shift my thoughts, and I workout now and then. But those things are fruits of the real workout. The real workout is to repent immediately of poisonous thoughts about myself or others. That poison is what really dims a person's beauty.
So I worry a little about getting attention for losing weight. I know it's well-meant and I can't deny it feels good, but I don't want my kids to hear it. They've ALWAYS thought I was beautiful. So has my husband, bless him.
I was beautiful when my curvy hips supported the creation of 8 human bodies. I was beautiful when my giant breasts nourished not just my own babies, but a handful of others. I felt most beautiful when this 200+ pound mama bear breathed and roared babies into this world in the sacredness of my own home. I was beautiful when my squatty body threw itself across a mama who was shaking after a rough delivery. I'm beautiful when I have to ask for help cause I can't reach something on the top shelf. I'm beautiful when I smile understandingly at people who treat me as less because of my weight. I was beautiful when I got up in front of people and sang or taught or testified or wept. I was beautiful curled up in my bed fighting the demons of postpartum mood disorders. I was even beautiful in the dressing room at Old Navy when I tried on some super cute leggings and I laughed out loud because they looked so ridiculous!
Here's the truth:
Everyone is miraculously beautiful.
Stop. And. Look!
Find it in you. Find it in everyone. Repent of the judgements. Repent for believing the lies. Don't just notice when someone is losing weight. Notice everyone and speak the truth about their beauty. Tell the fat people and the thin people and the addicts and the shy people and the annoying people and your family and the disabled and the healthy and unhealthy and friends and strangers.
Because IT IS TRUE!
Change things for our kids. Cause they will notice if the only complements you give out are to people who are losing weight.
Take back beauty. It is THE truth of our humanity.
Then return it to ALL of its rightful owners.

Transformation

Into The Chrysalis

It is year Two in our homeschool rotation.
Year Two means Biology, Modern World History, Family History, New Testament, Sewing.

Biology means microscopes and sea monkeys and microscopic pond creatures and models of the human body and babies and seeds and plants.  This year it also meant butterflies.

They were on sale one day on Amazon Prime.  Butterfly kits that came with everything you need to hatch butterflies.  Two days later, we were watching 5 grubby little caterpillars eat their way through a tub of.....caterpillar food. They ate and ate and we watched and watched.  Watched the skins shed, watched the chrysalises appear, waited and waited.  One by one they hatched, slow and heavy with newness.  Eventually they learned to use their wings.  We fed them nectar and gave them hibiscus flowers to sip on.  We set them free on a warm fall day, utterly different than the ugly grubs we started with weeks ago.

I didn't realize the significance of choosing butterflies for this particular year or how beautifully it would tie in to my own metamorphosis.  I didn't realize that it was the beginning of my own grub for nourishment before I wrapped myself up for awhile.

All summer long I thought and prayed and planned what we would do when school time rolled around.  Slowly but surely a picture emerged of what we should be doing.  Things fell into place for Brandon and Ruby to be at public school half time.  Any lessons were scheduled to happen at our house.  I wasn't in charge of ANY homeschool activities or co-ops. Any kid driving that needed to be done was done by Brandon.  My weekly schedule was such that I never had to leave the house.  Never.  And I LOVED it!

Could this be me?  The person who thrives on friendships and creating opportunities for my kids to be with other people?  The person who gets awfully grumpy if she spends too many days without seeing friends?  Somehow it was me.  And it was wonderful.

Every morning I would get up early, eager to plan my homeschool day.  I'd spend time on my own studies before making breakfast and awaking the kids for scripture time before Dad and the big kids left.  Every day I knew I'd get to sit with my kids, just them, and teach them whatever I wanted.  We covered so much more material than we usually get to, and we did it in such a joyful way!  We took a different approach to math: reading stories and playing games.  We played games with logic and grammar and had one-on-one reading time.  We did loads of science experiments and watched our snails and Sea Monkeys thrive.  We got SO excited about the pond-water creatures, I even recorded them with my phone! At lunch when the big kids got home, we'd sing or play lovely songs together and read lovely stories: Cragbridge Hall series, life stories of ancestors, Sherlock Holmes and Encyclopedia Brown.  Every day was different, but rich with learning and loving and play.  Then the house would go quiet.

The big kids would do their chores and homework.  The younger kids would rest or read quietly somewhere.  And I would put the baby down to rest and go to my room.
For hours.
I rested and I read.
I read Cleon Skousen's commentary on Isaiah.  I read Tale of Two Cities and Scarlet Pimpernel and a few Jane Austens and a few other classics.  But mostly I read dozens of cheesy clean romance novels. I loved them!  They were easy and fun and reminded me that my own relationship should be more romantic.
As I read, my reservoirs were filled.  Some reservoirs I had completely forgotten about as they had been given up on after years of drought.  I drank and drank and drank during those hours.  I was careful not to schedule anything during afternoons.  My social life dwindled to only occasionally seeing my very closest friends.  I disappered from the outside world. I even turned down a church calling (gasp!) But it wasn't depressing or strange.  It was delicious!

My whole world was my home, my chrysalis.
I was grateful, oh so grateful, for that time.  I knew I needed it, but I had no idea that God was preparing me--that he has always been preparing me-- for something new.

Year Two means Biology.  And Biology means life.  And life means change.

Coming Out

And then it was Christmas.  A new season.

Time to come out.

It started with an idea about sewing and service.

I always feel a little guilty about the focus on "stuff" at Christmas.  I always want it to mean a lot more than that for my kids.  But I also LOVE Christmas! I love the gifts and the music and the goodies and the friends and the traditions.  So we do all that stuff and we do stuff for Jesus too.

We had donated all of our "Christmas Jar" money to a refugee project the month before, and the kids were feeling a little sad about not having a surprise to leave on someone's doorstep this Christmas.

And it was our year to do sewing.  And it was my year to stay home, so I really wanted to watch ALL of our Christmas movies.  Something really wonderful worked out.

Just like that my afternoons of reading and resting were over.
It was okay.
It was a new season.
I taught the kids to sew reusable Christmas gift bags that we sold online to friends.  We earned enough money to leave a substantial Christmas surprise on somebody's doorstep.  And we watched a LOT of Christmas movies.

The chrysalis began to bulge and break.

Then it was January.  A new season.

Time to come out.

It started with a heartbroken daughter.

She needed something, what?  What could I do to help? The trouble seemed serious.  And scary.
But my reservoirs were full, so it didn't get me down.  Little by little, I sought and received help.  Consultation from a psychiatrist friend.  Neighbors reaching out at just the right moments.  Learning about a workout group for moms just a block away.

Yeah, a workout group.  As in me exercising in front of other people.
ONLY to save my baby.
I bought workout clothes.
And I felt just like the heavy, droopy, newly hatched butterfly that doesn't even realize it has wings.
But I came out.  I worked out.
A sparkle came back to my baby girl's eyes.
And I learned to trust my friends with my heavy, awkward body.
We laughed and cried and lifted each other.
It felt good to be out.

...

Wings?
Then it was February.  A new season.

It all started with Facebook.  A post advertising a conference.  Something telling me I needed to be there.
At the time I thought I was pregnant.  I knew I needed to take the Newborn Resuscitation class.  I thought it was because the baby I was pregnant with might need resuscitation. Though I had definitely been interested in studying midwifery for over a decade, it had completely fallen off my radar.  I'd contentedly given up on that dream and focused on my family dreams.

My dear friend Roxanna, my midwife was also attending so we drove up together.  Spending 3 days with her was a treat by itself.  Having her hold safe space for me while I entered a new world was more than amazing.  I saw some old friends and made lots of new ones.  Something began to wake up inside me.  It told me I belonged there.  It told me the next step:  A week-long training at the birth center. Wings?  Me?

Delightful discovery. And frightening.

On my knees again and again.  Are you sure, God?  Me?  A Midwife?  Yes I know I've been praying about this for years, but I never thought...
But my FAMILY!  If you haven't noticed it is HUGE!
I can't ask them.  I can't just be gone.  I'll have to study.  When?  I'll have to leave in the middle of the night sometimes.  How can I do that? What about homeschooling? What if I fail?  What if I choose wrong and hurt them.  I HAVE to succeed at home, remember?   WHAT IF I FAIL?
Okay, I'll do this, but you have to promise I won't make a mess of everything.  Promise me I won't fail?

He wouldn't promise.  But he reminded me that just like the Nephites had faith in his atonement before He was ever even born, I could have faith that he has already paid the price for my future failures.
A new level of trust.  And freedom.
I felt like-maybe? Maybe I can move these things.

...

Seeing in Color
Then it was March.  A new season.

I was definitely not pregnant.

I belonged to a study group of midwifery students.  Wonderful friends, supporters, mentors.  I drank it all up like nectar.  They suggested a doula training so I signed up.  I spent a weekend with a dozen amazing women. And I fell in love. And it was scary.

I went to a week long training with 3 other students from around the country. Drinking from a fire hose for 8-12 hours a day.  Eating and sleeping and learning with friends who shared their hearts and their stories. And I fell in love.  And it was scary.

I was asked to stay and work at the birth center for a few weeks.  14 different mamas, 5 different midwives, a team of student midwives.  And I fell in love with them ALL.  And it was scary.

You see, I had learned as a caterpillar how to love and be loved.  I had learned how to protect my intense, passionate, vulnerable heart from getting hurt.  And as a caterpillar it worked out okay because everything was black and white.  I knew to place my love where it would be properly returned.  My heart was safe.

But what was this?  The colors!  The people, so different from me, so colorful, so beautiful. Differences that used to seem divisive to me now seemed interesting and enjoyable. My heart was not safe anymore.  The old ways of coping and hiding and wall-building around my heart just didn't work anymore.  And I wasn't sure if I wanted it to because--the colors!  And I was in love.

But what if.  What if they don't love me back?  What if I unleash this crazy heart of mine because I love the colors but they just see a grubby caterpillar and my heart gets broken?  I don't think I can love this much and survive my heart being broken.  If butterflies see differently do they love differently too?

God said yes.  They love without fear.  Can you? Can you trust in my love enough that you don't have to worry about whether they return your love or not?  I have enough love to fill you.

Can I? I have to try.  I will try.  Because even if I wanted to, I can't go back to being a caterpillar.  And I really, really love to see in color.

Learning to Fly
Then it was April.  A new season.

When the caterpillars first hatched, they were in a netted cage.  Once they started really flapping those wings, it was not long before we realized they needed to be set free or they would get hurt.

April was like that for me.  Exciting to be trying my wings, but I felt like I kept knocking things down.  Like everything was different and I had to learn how to do life as a different creature.

April started as workshop week came to an end.  The week with Janis, Amy, and Holly is one to be cherished forever.  A Mormon, 2 Christians, and a Jew....We laughed all week that we were like a bad joke.  How incredible to feel so safe so quickly with a group of people so different.  I want to remember Holly's steadiness and her comforting North Carolina accent.  I loved hearing her talk about her farm and homeschooling and her upcoming humanitarian trip to Africa. I loved that she felt free to talk about her relationship with the Lord.
Amy's fun chatter and willingness to be vulnerable were endearing to me.  I loved hearing her pray over the phone with her kids.  She even came and prayed over me the time she found me in my room sobbing because I was so nervous to attempt an IV stick.  Being from Texas, she was so curious about the mountains and canyons so the 2 of us went up to Sundance one day.
Christine came on as the other assist when track started.  She was so anxious and careful to do things right.  She figured out the checklist and routines down like nobody's business and kept our team running like clockwork.  I learned to appreciate her willingess to go forward with so much time and effort and expense to be a midwife in a state where she's forced to swim upstream.  She impressed me several times with her thoughtfulness when working with the moms.  She had good ideas.

And Janis from NY.  My granny midwife mama.  Steady and beautiful with her white braids. Everything she says is like a poem. At 61 still willing to start this amazing, demanding work.  She can stand on her head and do yoga like nobody I've ever seen.  She stayed on track with me as the Primary student.  That woman holds a pretty big piece of my heart.  Together we laughed and cried and learned and loved the midwives and the mamas.  At the end of a crazy sleepless week and a difficult night, I went crawling and bawling back to the dorm and Janis.  And she held my soul for me while I held a cup of her warm, sweet, creamy tea close to my heart and let all the worries come out.  

As I met new people and learned new skills and embraced new ideas, I did a bit of bumping around in my cage.  It's like I had a room full of block towers that I'd spent my life building: one for church, one for parenting, one for homeschooling, one for midwifery, etc.  As I knocked about, trying my wings, the towers came tumbling down.  All of them.  I felt like I didn't know anything about anything anymore.  I knew I needed to build just one tower, and I knew the center would be Christ, but I wasn't sure about the wreckage around me.  Do I really need all of those blocks?  Which things still matter to a butterfly?  It was a lot for a sleep-deprived heart to consider.

But learning to fly was also exhilirating!  When I am at the ocean, I feel so soul-fed, so alive.  Like, God made this for ME!  When I am at a birth, I feel so soul-fed, so alive.  Like, God made me for THIS!

I felt strangely and wonderfully at home at the birth centers.  I knew it was where I belonged.  I felt instant respect and love for each of the midwives I was privileged to work with.  I pretty much adopted Harmony.  I mean, her name fits right in to my family.  She agreed to step in as that baby of mine who never came.  And her other first name IS Rose...  I once asked her to give me feedback about my performance on track.  She had given it to the other 2 students, and I wanted my turn.  She said, "I feel like I can just give you a look and you'll know..." I wasn't completely satisfied with that answer, but it's what I got.  I could write for another couple of hours about Harmony, but "the look" will have to suffice for now.  If you ever read this, Harmony Rose, I'm giving you "the look" right now!  Colorful, amazing, strong person.

Then one day my track ended. I said goodbye to my friends. I spent a glorious weekend at 3 births with angelic Roxanna.  Seeing her in her element from a different perspective is a treasured experience. That woman knows how to love.

And then I went home.
Where I used to live.  When I was a caterpillar.
But I wasn't a caterpillar anymore, and I wasn't at births anymore.  I didn't know how to BE.

I've spent the last month learning how to do mom, homemaker, wife, homeschooler, churchmember all over again but as a butterfly.
My wings have gotten tattered a time or two.  And more than once I've wanted to crawl right back into that chrysalis.  But I don't fit there anymore.
Week by week, I've slowly figured out my wings at home.  They work here too!

I was asked to come back to the birth center.  I am thrilled!  I can't wait!  I am breathless and blown away at how this miraculous journey has unfolded.
My heart is soaring with gratitude for this incredible experience.

Year Two means Biology.
Life.
Babies.
Butterflies.
Change.
Yes, Change.  Time to fly!


...

.

Washed Clean

(January 2017  This post has been tucked away in draft mode and tucked away in my heart.  My blog has been on hold because I didn't know how or if to share.  Because this experience colored the rest of my year I felt stuck anytime I thought of writing.  But this year needs to be written, so here goes.)

Written April 14, 2016
Nathan turned in his mission papers on Sunday.  It was exciting to see him glow with excitement all day.  He has worked really really hard the last year to overcome some weaknesses in order to preapare for his mission.  I could tell that though excited, he was a little sobered by the reality of it as well.  He was excited to tell Grandpa Millington that night that the papers were in!  Dallin's family rejoiced with us as we anticipated the call that should come within the next two weeks. 

When we got home, I was burdened with an incredible heaviness.  I knew that part of it was jumping back into life after Spring Break, but I could tell it was more than that.  I often feel excited to get back into the schedule after a break, but I was feeling so much fear and dread about going back to my life of trying to plan things out and improve, only to have interruption after interruption.  I was nervous about the struggles with Brandon and school.  I was feeling badly about my own weaknesses and unmet expectations.  I did NOT want to get back on the mountain and climb.  I spoke to Dallin about my feelings a little, but it was late.  I asked for a blessing, but he felt he needed some time so I said it was okay to wait till tomorrow.  I already felt a little better just for talking about it.  I was getting some ideas about waking up early and helping Brandon get a good start.  We prayed, and I specifically prayed for Nathan, knowing that he was likely to have some opposition from the adversary for his decision to serve a mission.  I prayed that our ancestors would come and help us and protect him. 

When I awoke the next morning, Nathan was at school and Brandon was at seminary.  I had gotten up early and read scriptures but gone back to bed.  I was geared up to get a schedule written out with some assignments for Brandon.  I called a friend to ask what she had done for her older kids, but she didn't answer.  I checked my phone for messages.  My world fell apart.

In checking my messages, I discovered a mistake that Nathan had made that could jeapordize everything he had worked for.  And I knew for sure his mission was at best on hold.   For a horrible couple of hours I tried to get ahold of Nathan, tried to get ahold of Dallin, talked to the younger kids and we prayed together.  I met Dallin at work to talk for awhile and make some plans.  I finally got to talk to Nathan.  Many of my worst fears were unfounded, but it was still a devastating mistake. 

The rest of the day was spent counseling Nathan, crying, praying, wondering how I could take care of my family with such a heavy burden on my heart.  I remember the Spirit giving me specific instructions to just keep moving.  "Write that check....Get an envelope....Put the stamp on...."  Of course because I have little ones there were moments of smiles and joy, but the weight was ever before me, with so many unknowns. 

I took the kids to violin group lessons and tried to pretend I was okay.  A meeting with the Bishop--not good news, scary news, even.  Dinner.  Keep going.  Family Home Evening.  We can Sing.  Brandon came through with an impromptu lesson.  Get milk and a treat at the grocery store.  Put kids to bed.  Keep going.  I was so tired, so so tired.  Sleep?  Please come, sleep.  Give me a break from this weight, this sadness, this disappointment, this hurting to see my child hurt, this wondering what will happen, this wishing, wishing it hadn't happened.  If only I had....Don't go there.  A noise in the hall--is it him?  Is he okay?  A sleepwalking child rushes into my room thinking its the bathroom.  A tender-hearted daughter can't sleep for worry.  I grab my pillows and lie by her in her bed.  For a few minutes I drift off, grateful for some respite.  But it is still there when I wake up.  Not a dream.  Real.  I went back to my own bed.  Sleep, please come.  Thoughts swirl and haunt and I try to sleep, to pray, to escape.  I try praise.  At least it distracts me from the incessant thinking.  Praise to the Lord, the Almighty the King of Creation...I sing in my mind.  Praise God from whom all Blessings Flow...Why couldn't I remember the words to any other hymns?  Concentrate, focus away from the pain, away from the thoughts.  After over an hour, Dallin got up to use the restroom.  I asked him to check on Nathan.  And finally I slept for 3 hours. 

When I awoke at 6, I knew I needed to go to the temple.  I was really tempted to just go back to sleep.  I was SO tired and sad.  But I didn't want to ignore a prompting from the Spirit.  A friend had asked Ruby to babysit so she could go to the temple.  I felt I needed to ask to go with her.  I thought maybe I would be helping her with her own difficulties, getting myself out of the self-pity bubble.  Thoughts flooded in, trying to convince me that it wouldn't work.  Who would watch the baby?  Brandon needed to do school work and the girls would both be gone.  A name came to my mind.  She was willing to rearrange her morning to come help with the kids.  Lovely, wonderful person!  On the way to the temple I asked about my friend and she assured me she was doing very well and was excited to go to the temple with her dad, who was following us in his car.  I shared some of my burdens, and she shared that she had told Nathan's sunday school class the story of Peter on Sunday.  Of Peter facing the Savior and saying he would serve him and die for him.  But the Savior knew him and knew he would deny him 3 times.  And Peter denied him, and was devastated, but he carried on, becoming the leader of the apostles.  I was stunned.  How perfect that she had shared that with my son on the very day he would have a similar experience. 

I sat in the temple with Emily's temple name card in my hand, and my friend with another ancestor of mine, Lottie.  I prayed for them to be there today.  To be with me.  It became apparent how much I needed my friend with me.  Throughout the session as the tears began to flow, she put her arms around me and I was not alone.  By the end of the 2 hour session, I was very tired.  It was hard to stay awake, and we were at the back of the line to go through the veil.  As I finally approached the veil, a small weakness of mine came to mind.  Then I was flooded with my weakness, my smallness, my insignificance, my inability to be successful in so many ways.  I went to the veil feeling utterly humble.  I sobbed through the veil ceremony and stepped into the celestial room.  I sat and sobbed, continuing to let the emotion flow out.  I thought of my insignificance in the universe.  I looked around the room of the beautiful brand new City Center temple Celestial room.  It was full of loveliness.  I was there.  I looked back at the veil.  "That was all?"  I wondered.  That was all I had to do, and I was in this lovely place.  Me, insignificant me, with all of my faults and weaknesses.  I had "humbled myself before the Lord".  How often do the scriptures ask us to do that?  I had never paid attention to that phrase before.  I looked across the room.  Directly in front of me were 2 empty chairs.  Emily and Lottie. 

It was time to go.  I walked into the sunshine and blossomy fragrance of a perfect April day.  My friend asked me to drive her car home so she could go out to lunch with her dad.  I drove home alone, feeling a little less concerned about my troubles, mostly anxious to be with my baby and little children whom I had been away from much longer than I expected.  I was not quite conscious of what had just happened. 

When I got home, all was at peace.  A neighbor was helping Simon with his reading.  The kids had had lunch and it was cleaned up.  Brandon was working on school.  The baby was asleep.  The other children were playing nicely together.  I sat at my table to eat lunch and it hit me. 

I was free.
My burden was gone.  Completely gone. 
I knew all would be well.  Knew it. 
I felt clean and pure, unspeakably clean, inside and out.  It was sweetness, it was joy, it was freedom.  I have known of, worshipped, loved, and tried to trust Jesus all of my life.  I have been comforted by his love and peace, I have been directed by his Holy Spirit, I have had many witnesses of the reality of his life and mission and love for me.  But I realized I have never felt the atonement.  Not like this.  It is truly the sweetest thing I have ever felt.  I can not describe it, but I can say that as wonderful as it was to be at the ocean in a vacation home, I wouldn't have traded this feeling even for that. 
Like Enos, I have to exclaim, "Lord, how is it done?"  How could I have gone from being beside myself with sadness, to utter humility, to this complete joy?
"Surely He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows....and with His stripes we are healed." 


...

Beach Bliss

The conversation went something like this: "Dallin, I really want Spring Break to feel renewing and like a break for you.  What are you imagining?" 
 "Well, I imagine being able to do things I don't usually do or things I don't have enough time for." 
(By this time the beach topic had come up a couple of times, but neither of us had thought seriously of it.)
"What kinds of things?", I asked
"I don't have as much time as I like to exercise or study the scriptures or work in the yard..."
He listed several other things and then said, "and I never go to the beach..."

A few minutes later he was looking at his ipad at vacation rentals while I finished folding laundry.  Really?  Really? 
We spent awhile looking, talking, planning.  When I woke up in the morning, I was pretty excited.  "How serious are you about this beach thing?   I'm okay if you just want to stay home, but I need to know if it is time to take the next step and actually book something." 
"I'm serious", he said. 

I started looking seriously and sending inquiries about a few different properties.  I forced myself to stop and enjoy General Conference, picking up the search again after the session was over.  By the time the 2nd session was over, we felt like it was okay to make it official and tell the kids.  I grabbed the baby and the big girls and we headed to the store to hopefully find swimsuits and supplies.  A few hours later we got home and started packing.  It felt like a mad rush getting everything together.  I didn't want to take away from our enjoyment of conference on Sunday so we were trying to do as much as we could Saturday night. 

We finally got a confirmation on our booking Sunday morning and knew it was for sure.  We contacted Dallin's brother in Vegas to see if we could work out a way to see him and his family.  We knew we would be getting there late and they have a small house.  We let him know we had other places we could stay if he thought it would be too much to host our crowd.  On the contrary, he seemed excited and offered to make us a nice breakfast. 

The trip to Vegas was long, but everyone did pretty well.  We tried to be really quiet when we got there after 10pm, thinking their 2 kids would be asleep.  What a delightful surprise when 5 year old Max came out, "I heard you have 8 children!"  He was so cute!  It has been so long since we've seen them that I've never heard him talk.  He talked to us for quite awhile.  Dallin and I stayed up visiting with Kurtis and Amy until 2:45am, 3:45 our time!  But it was worth it!  It was so wonderful to catch up and know how things are going for them.  And breakfast was amazing!  Baked blueberry French toast and crockpot breakfast casserole! 

That morning I got a call from the rental manager.  She told me there was a problem with our rental so she would have to upgrade us to a nicer condo with 4 bedrooms, 4 bathrooms, and a Jacuzzi!  We were a little disappointed that it didn't have beach right in front of it like our other one did, but it was actually closer to the water and really nice.  And we really, really enjoyed the Jacuzzi! 

It took us FOR EVER (8 hours instead of 5) to get to Oceanside, but the trip was nice.  We had the big boys just behind us helping with the baby and we had some nice conversations.  When we got there, the sun was just setting.  The kids all stood on the rocks and saw the ocean.  It was amazing!  I had forgotten how much the ocean speaks to my soul.  We quickly unpacked and ate and I kept the windows open as long as possible to hear the waves crashing against the rocks. 

The next morning Dallin and I walked to the pier and scouted out a good place to play on the beach.  We walked down there and had a really fun time.  We went later to the store and bought some body boards so we could try riding the surf.  The rest of the time was a lovely mixture of playing in the sand, riding the waves, sitting in the hot tub, and watching fun shows. (Mostly White Collar and Good Mythical Morning).  I planned a really simple menu with lots of snacks, so eating was not a big deal.  Kurtis convinced us that we needed to eat fish at least once, so Dallin bought some stuff and grilled fish-kebobs, and it was amazingly delicious.  I even liked the shrimp! 

Thursday was my birthday, and it was raining.  We didn't go to the beach at all that day.  We went to the temple in San Diego.  I was really glad I went, even if I just sat in the waiting room while Dallin went in with the kids.  But Sullivan was kind of a nightmare.  I had to take him out like 5 times, and finally just went out to the car.  I was a little irritated as we got some pictures and loaded back up, but quickly simmered down.  Navigating through the freeway system was pretty tricky there, and we took more than one wrong turn.  We got some In N out burgers on the way home, which was a nice surprise for my birthday.  The next day we were determined to spend as much time in the water as possible!  We waited for low tide when the beach near us would be more fun and rode wave after wave.  The kids went out with Dallin first while I played in the sand with the littlest boys.  The big boys took them back to the condo while Dallin, Ruby, and I stayed until I was completely beat up and their toes were numb.  It was completely delightful!  I felt somewhat drunk with exhaustion and exhilaration. 

Besides being so much fun, the ocean helped me feel such a connection to God's power and majesty, His beauty and constancy, and the idea that though constant, He is not predictable.  It was a precious, precious tender mercy for us to be there after an extremely trying year. 

I thought a lot about the simplicity of staying in a furnished Condo.  We brought very few possessions, and it was nice to have the freedom to enjoy my family more.  It made me want to come home and see if I can't simplify my home a little more and make it feel like there is more room for relationships. 

We were all sad to leave the ocean.  We found the right way to spend our tax return money, though I know it was actually an investment.

March Madness

Things just never settled down into routine this month.  It doesn't help that we have 3 birthdays and this year Easter also, but it was even crazy beyond that. 

This has been a hard homeschool year for Brandon and me.  It has weighed heavily on my heart to see him unsatisfied.  We have tried lots of different things, but I couldn't seem to ever make a difference.  It was easy for me to feel down on myself and doubt my abilities as a homeschooler.  After yet another week of discouragement, things seemed to be coming to a head.  One Friday I learned that Brandon was fasting.  While Dallin and I were on our date, we discussed the issues, and both ended the conversation feeling more frustrated and discouraged than when we started.  Later that evening, I was nursing the baby and thinking about homeschooling.  I was thinking about mentors and thinking about all of the interviews I have had with Brandon.  One thing he said was that on of the only things he really looked forward to studying was the scriptures.  I decided maybe we needed to follow that a little and started thinking of who would be a good mentor.  My dad popped into my mind and I realized that he would be needing help this time of year for tree trimming.  My dad is also a family history expert, and that is something Brandon said he has been feeling inspired to learn more about.  I called my mom and found out they would be coming through on their way home from Arizona in just a couple of days.  When I talked to Brandon it seemed like a great idea for him, so we prepared to have him spend a couple of weeks in Idaho.  That was a relief and answer to prayers. 

The morning of his birthday, I drove him to get his drivers license.  His friends attend a charter school next to the DMV so I dropped him off there to spend the day with them.  We invited a bunch of Brandon's friends over for a "surprise" party, but he surprised the friends by getting home early! That evening, we opened presents and had some treats when my parents got into town.   I think it was a fun day for him.  The next day we ate out with my parents and they headed home with Brandon. 

I started to feel a sore throat that night, but it seemed minor, and only on one side so I thought it was just stress.  It still hurt the next day and seemed to be getting worse, but didn't seem like strep.  Finally, on the 3rd morning, I knew it was strep and got some antibiotics.  But by then it had a pretty strong hold on me.  I ended up being down with that sickness for about a week.  Not a good thing for a homeschool mama.  Things got pretty dark and difficult when on top of that Corban was not sleeping well.  I was completely physically, emotionally, and mentally exhausted.  Thankfully I had several people come help and bring dinner.  Our Home Teacher's wife came and took the girls shopping on Sullivan's birthday.  She also came in and cleaned the kitchen and stayed with the kids for awhile while I rested.  Another neighbor came and got my laundry and brought it back folded that evening.  I felt so cared for and blessed! 

I got better just in time to sing at a musical production created by some women in our stake called "You Are Enough".  It was beautiful, and such a message that women need to hear in these days when Satan tries so hard to drag women down with lies about their efforts and their worth.  I was really grateful to be a part of that. 

We were blessed to have our friends the Wells from Las Vegas come stay a night with us.  It is always so much fun to catch up with such a good friend.  We stayed up really late talking, but it was worth it!  She also homeschools a large family so we always have a lot to talk about. 

The Provo City Center Temple dedication was on Dallin's birthday.  He was pretty excited about that because it meant no bishopric meetings and because he was born in Provo and has enjoyed watching the progress of the temple there. 

We squeezed one more good day of school in the following week and attended our group violin lesson before we packed up to go pick up Brandon in Idaho.  Cousins up there were on Spring Break, so we packed up our violins and went to Grandma's.  It was a nice break from the whirlwind that had been going on here. 

Something we had been preparing most for was a birthday party for Aunt Melissa.  She has the perfect personality to bond and unify the older cousins in the family.  She recently got excited about unicorns, so we planned a unicorn party for her.  My kids saved their money to buy her some unicorn stuff, and I emailed all the cousins and asked them to draw a unicorn picture to make a book for her.  It was great fun, and I think she loved the gifts!  Nathan also made her a One Direction T-shirt with her face photoshopped in.  It was really great!

We helped Grandma get the graduation quilts going for the 4 kids who are graduating this year.  That felt good to help her out a little after all she does for us.  It is always such a treat to be with my parents.  Literally, too, because they took us to some great restaurants while we were there, too. 

After a few days with Grandma, we headed up to Shelley to be with Millington cousins for a baptism.  Dallin and Nathan met us there Friday night.  We had a wonderful visit.  I always feel so grateful to Karami and Kevin for their example and friendship.  She gave me some great things to think about for homeschooling and it is so nice to lift one another and help each other along the path of discipleship.  The baptism was great, and it was fun to catch up with Kevin's siblings that we haven't seen for awhile.  We heard a great story about a candy snitch accidentally eating a real robin egg when he tried to steal his brother's candy. 

I came back really excited to have a great homeschooling week and get back into life.  Monday was pretty good.  We got a lot done and enjoyed learning together.  Tuesday got completely hijacked.  It started with Daisy waking up feeling miserable with a sinus infection. She is prone to sinus troubles, but I could tell it was different this time.  It was affecting her vision.  I helped some less than enthusiastic littles with violin before heading to the doctor.  We got her some antibiotics and made it home just in time for Simon's boys class.  I thought I was in charge of the lesson and we were just going to have to make it a play day, but the other mom was all ready to go.  They finished up a really big requirement for scouts and we headed out to watch them enjoy their creations.  I was so excited to sit in the porch swing and just visit for a few minutes and catch my breath.  I looked over and noticed our cat was in the crate.  That seemed unusual so I peeked in at her and saw a gaping hole on her side.  Then we were off to the vet.  I think some other things happened that day, but it ended and I tried to redeem the rest of the week.  Things did not seem to be much improved with Brandon, but I didn't even have a chance to talk to him about it because I was constantly putting out fires. 

We had marshmallow catapult wars for our family activity on Thursday as a part of our medieval studies.  It was way more fun than I even imagined.  We stacked up cups on either side of the racquetball court and tried to knock the other team's "castle" down first. 

I was kinda sad we had to end early and eat a quick dinner before I went to perform in another "You Are Enough" program.  Dallin got to come with me this time, and it gave us a lot to think about and talk about.  Each program starts with a mental health professional giving a short talk.  Throughout the program, women from the ward or stake share personal experiences where life didn't work out the way they hoped and what they learned from the experience.  It was really powerful.

We had a few people come give us bids for replacing windows in our house because we had some leftover tax return money.  We ended up only having about half of what we needed. We considered getting half the windows replaced, but then reconsidered when I got sick.  We started wondering if it was time for me to try surgery to fix some of my nasal/sinus issues.  I wasn't feeling great about that idea, but knew we should probably decide what to do with the money so it wouldn't just get spent on dumb stuff.  The kids had started asking about our own Spring Break.  Dallin would be home for the week, and we were thinking we would just stay home and get some projects done and relax.  I had this little crazy idea that I wanted to take the kids to the ocean before Nathan leaves home.  A couple of my kids had mentioned never seeing or not remembering being at the ocean.  It seemed like too big of an idea on too short notice, but somehow after our date on Friday night we found ourselves looking at vacation rentals in California.  But that's a story for April.

Two More Miracles for the Week

The next day a woman from the ward brought a homemade fried chicken dinner that I had won at a service auction. 

It was unreasonable--unrighteous, even,  to think that I could ever be alone or uncared for.  But God in his tender, gentle way send several reminders that he is in the details, He knows, He will not leave me comfortless, He will come to me.  How grateful I am for the people who choose to be His hands so I can have miracles in my life. 

I had a very vivid dream about a woman in our neighborhood.  I have spoken to her several times, but always felt like I said the wrong thing.  I was honestly a bit intimidated and uncomfortable because I didn't know how to relate to her.  In the dream we were close friends.  We were having a barbecue and having such a wonderful time together.  I awoke feeling a little nervous about what that meant.  I knew I should at least try to contact her, but I was really nervous.  She was a pretty private person and I didn't have her number.  I had tried to invite her to join the homeschool group, but the invite was turned down.  I wasn't sure I even had her correct email.  As I was wondering how God wanted me to proceed, the picture came to my mind of me walking by her house and of her coming out to talk to me. 
So I courageously and very nervously set out on a walk.  A different route than I have ever taken.  I never know where things will lead when I think I'm following a prompting from the Spirit.  Sometimes things are completely unexpected.  It was much too early to knock on the door.  I walked up her long, steep street and around the Cul-de-sac.  Nothing.  I walked very slowly around the cul-de-sac, giving the miracle as much time to happen as possible.  Nothing.  Oh well, at least I obeyed, I thought.  I might have been a little relieved, honestly.  But just as I headed back down the street, just at the moment that her front door would have left my view, she came out of her house!  I turned around and greeted her.  She seemed genuinely happy to see me.  She was excited to come to the homeschool park day.  I walked that route a few other mornings and had a chance for a quick greeting as she took her older children to school.  We've had some wonderful discussions.  She is my friend now.  I have learned some important things from her.  Amazing.