Showing posts with label Mormon. Show all posts

Journey to the Center of my Heart

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Every mom knows that as much as you are trying to teach your children everything they need to know to launch into the world, in the end, you learn more from them than you could ever teach.

Some of the lessons are less fun than others.

I think that's why you don't see as many blog posts about teenagers.  Also, they can read.  And be offended and/or embarrassed. But am I letting that stop me? Nope. Because this year I have learned a very large, very important, very painful lesson. And sharing is caring.

Ah, how to begin? I have a daughter...she is lovely.  Ever since she was a baby her smile has been like sunshine and as she grew her quick wit kept us all in laughter.  Like every mom, I tried to teach her all the things I thought would make her happy.  One of those things, a really big one, was my religion.  It has been the anchor in my life, my testimony of Jesus Christ has sustained me through the hardest times, and I wanted to gift that to my child.

But my beliefs didn't sit well with her. She has always had her own mind and when I tried to tell her how to dress, and eat, where to go and who her friends should be, and especially what she should feel and believe, well she just hated it. I did try to do it the right way, her Dad and I are pretty easy going most of the time. Sheesh, just writing this-it is so hard to explain. She didn't want to do anything bad, she just didn't feel what I feel, so everything else seemed like faking. She didn't want to have to fake it to fit in our family or have our approval. It made her mad and sad. Oh, and feisty.

I, on the other hand, felt that what we were trying to teach is true, with a capital T, and if I couldn't teach it then I was failing in my most sacred job as mother. So I wouldn't give up. In fact, it took God a lot of different notes for me to get the message. The message wasn't that I needed to give up, it was that I had already done what I was supposed to do, and it was time to let my beautiful girl's spiritual life be between her and Him. That was hard to hear.

The Spirit speaks to different people in different ways, it even speaks to the same person in different ways...particularly if said person is having a hard time getting the point.  In my case it took at least three times before I could acknowledge to Marc what was being said to me.  I guess to start I had a general "unease," a feeling that the path I was on (insisting that she do what I said because I knew it was right and I said it) wasn't really working (HA!) for us. Then one afternoon I was in 9 year old Ellie's class listening to presentations on California missions, and each and every one of those astute fourth graders listed the Catholic Priests forcing their religion on the natives as a "con" of mission life. And the Spirit whispered to me, "See?" 

Then a few days later a really beautiful young mom, who I admire and know through my church congregation, was cutting my hair and telling me how when she was younger she needed to figure things out on her own and explore her own spiritual path. She said that the best thing her mother did was to support her in finding her own way. And the Spirit whispered again, "Let her be."

Later that week I told Marc how I was being directed and he agreed that we needed to rethink our approach. Then the penultimate message came while we were listening to General Conference, a world wide broadcast where the prophet, apostles, and other leaders of the Mormon church teach and preach twice a year, and Elder Larry Y. Wilson was speaking about parenting. He said this, 
"We simply cannot force others to do the right thing. The scriptures make it clear that this is not God’s way. Compulsion builds resentment. It conveys mistrust, and it makes people feel incompetent. Learning opportunities are lost when controlling persons pridefully assume they have all the right answers for others."

It was like a light bulb (finally) went off in my head and my heart. This talk is parenting gold by the way, if you want to read it click here.

So. There.  I have shared my journey. Judge gently my friends, parenting is tricky but worth it. I am so happy being mom to my own wonderful children.

Mormon Helping Hands

Saturday, April 30, 2011




On Saturday Ellie and I cleaned up trash near the top of Mount Diablo as part of the Mormon Helping Hands project. The rest of the family was scattered to the winds with other activities, and I admit I was tempted to stay home and maybe snuggle and watch Pokemon with Ellie, but I decided "service is important," so we went and I am so glad we did.

You know how you never know which lessons are actually going to teach your children something? Well, this one seemed to particularly take with Ellie. When we got up the mountain (after a very long and twisty drive with Dayna and her girls) it was super windy and cold. The ranger was talking about hacking brush off of the trail and I was thinking "how can I get Dayna to turn around and take us home right now because Ellie is going to hate this and I don't want to deal with her?"

Such are my tiger mom skills.

But I knew Super Dayna wasn't going anywhere...so. Then the ranger said if we weren't prepared to work with a pick ax we could collect trash. He gave Ellie a reacher thingie, and me a bag and off we went.

And boy, oh boy did we collect trash. Ellie was a machine I tell you what! Most of the trash was sneakily hiding where it had been blown into these large low thickets. I am too big to crawl in there, but Ellie just went for it-crawling on her stomach at some points to get tiny bits of paper and stuff like bottle caps.

The best part was to see how proud she was of herself for taking care of the earth. She mostly gets that from school assemblies, but let's pretend it's because Marc and I taught her.

At one point she stopped me and pointed out the wind blowing the long grasses up the hill from us and commented on how it looked like a silver ocean. Then she said it was like the grass and trees and even the earth was singing.
I felt so glad we were there to experience it together. After an hour or so we snuggled up in a little grove of trees that worked like a wind break and just watched the grass sway.

It was like a million times better than Pokemon.

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The Mormon Trek

Tuesday, September 7, 2010


There are certain pictures that it would be a true shame to miss posting. I speak, of course,of trek.



This is a particularly Mormon activity where the teenagers dress up as pioneers and reenact the journey that the Mormon pioneers made from Illinois to Utah. They spend the long weekend pushing handcarts, sleeping under the stars, and learning about what the early pioneers endured to secure their religious freedom.
My own little pioneers. Love these girls!
The kids have to take turns carrying live chickens in crates, flour sack "babies" and each other when they are marked as "injured or sick." Heh, heh. I know. It's a wonderful character building experience. It still makes me laugh.

Maybe it's because James, one of their amazing youth leaders, had all of the girls convinced they would have to kill and eat the chickens if they wanted any food and that there were no latrines along the trail they would be walking. You should have heard those girls scream. Heh, heh...I love being a mom.

Ellie's Baptism

Wednesday, August 4, 2010

Another lovely thing that I can't skip blogging about is Ellie's baptism. All year long she has been talking about when her Dad would "bapmatize" her.

I have absolutely loved each of my smalls baptisms. I feel like the road to eternity is illuminated for a moment and it is so sweet to see my angel on that path.
It was wonderful to have Marc's family with us! Becca and Troy flew out from North Carolina and one of the most lovely parts was when Becca and Katie sang "I Like to Look for Rainbows." Made my waterworks work overtime.
Sadly, I forgot to charge my camera so I am low on pictures but here are some of the shots I did get. I love that little Ellie so much and I was so proud of her.

Where I Try to Deal With Serious Things Without Dying

Thursday, February 4, 2010


I have a story to tell, but I'm not sure how to tell it. Usually I keep anything too personal or messy off the blog. You know I hate gooey sticky stuff. Can't even eat tapioca. But a friend asked me share this story so here goes.


At church a month or two ago we had a special meeting in Sunday school. It was a meeting about how we should treat our gay brothers and sisters. To sum up, we were taught that we should be nice, loving, perhaps even empathetic. Our teacher, a member of our Stake Presidency, acknowledged the excruciating difficulty a person who is gay has trying to live the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

I left the meeting feeling really happy. Sometimes I've felt conflicted between my desire to defend and preserve the sacredness of traditional marriage, and my desire to see my gay friends happy.

Of course, President Stewart couldn't answer all my questions, and I'm not going to try to answer yours. This is a great link that I have found helpful, but even it doesn't answer all my questions. Don't tell, but I believe there is yet more to be revealed on this subject. Maybe to the world, maybe just to me.

Anyway, when we got home from church I was making dinner with Maddie and Katie, my two teenage daughters, and I started telling them about what a great Sunday school lesson we'd had. We were all chop, chop, chopping and I was talk, talk, talking and I was super surprised when I looked over at Maddie and she was crying.

"Hey!" I said. "What's wrong?"

And that's when she told me how completely relieved she was to hear this message at church, albeit second hand, since I was telling her what I'd heard.

Really?

I totally thought Marc and I had been giving our kids this message their whole lives. We are all about the love here at our house, right? We've told them to love and accept their gay friends. We've loved the gay people in our lives, and, you know, been part of their lives and they're part of ours. I thought our kids were pretty clear on the main-Jesus-message "love everyone."

I thought we'd explained that loving everyone doesn't mean you have to agree with them or think that everything they do is right, but it does mean you treat everyone with respect and kindness.

But it turns out my girls weren't sure. In fact,while she was crying, Maddie told me about spending a week at church camp and making friends with a young man there who was gay. Some of the other young men in her group confronted her and asked her why she was talking to him. "Why wouldn't I?" she asked confused. "Because he's gay," they said.

Ouch.

And by then Katie was crying too because she has had all too similar experiences.

I guess I'm really telling this story because of all the messy thoughts it brought up for me, like YIKES I really don't always know what my kids are going through. And how I hope The Church as a whole helps our youth understand homosexuality better. And how grateful I am for my Savior and his love.

And now I have to stop, all this emoting is exhausting...I need a caffeinated beverage.

Sunday's Lessons

Tuesday, July 28, 2009

I am thankful for plums

When I go to church, a lot of times I hear things that I already know, but for some reason a certain principle or lesson will really stick out and feel new and important.

Last Sunday that happened, and I've been thinking about it all week. I've wanted to share my insights, but I'm strangely weirded out about sharing spiritual things on my blog. I just hate to be sappy. But I keep feeling like it's a-time to write it down so here goes.

There is a story about one of the Mormon pioneers who traveled across the country to Utah with the Martin Harris Handcart company. This particular group left late in the season and got stuck in the ice and snow and many of the members of the company died. Years later a group of Mormons were discussing the poor judgement of church leaders in letting the group leave so late in the year.

At some point an old man spoke up and said he had been an actual member of the very company they were criticizing. He said a lot of stuff (I'm not getting into it because I don't want to cry) but ended by saying that the sacrifices and hardships he suffered on that trek were the price he paid to know Jesus Christ and it was worth it.

Then in Sunday school our lovely teacher, Vicki, pointed out a pattern of sacrifice that goes like this: sacrifice leads to faith, faith leads to a testimony of Christ, that testimony gives us the power to endure all things, and enduring until the end brings us eternal life.

Does that make a light bulb go off in anyone else's head? Although I could have explained all of this before Sunday, on this Sunday it felt different. I feel like any hardship or sacrifice I have been through, is infinitely worth it, if it brings me closer to my Savior. My trials are tiny, but I am grateful for any sorrow that has brought me to my knees and made me recognize God's hand in my life.

And that's all I'm saying because I can tell I am on the very verge of sapaliciousness but I did want to thank Dayna and Vicki for their insights. They are good, righteous women and I am so happy to know them.

 

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