Taking Your Requests
I've been thinking for a while now that it would be fun to take "your requests" and add some new tunes to my Playlist. I've been listening to the same old stuff for a while now and I'm ready to mix things up a bit. So, here's what I want you to do. In a comment, give me at least one favorite song (or several, if you want). Don't worry about matching my genre -- just tell me what YOU like! My only request is keep it clean (no swearing, vulgarity, or suggestive lyrics). But beyond that, sky's the limit -- introduce me to something new and fun or tell me your all-time favorite! I really do like most anything, even if you've tagged me as an "easy listener" by what's currently on my playlist! In my concert-going days I saw bands like Counting Crows, John Mayer, U2, Boingo, The Cure (yes, me!), Indigo Girls, Sting, ska bands, etc. ... so really, I'm game for just about anything! If you're a reader of my blog but never comment, don't be shy ... I'd love to get a request from as many people as possible! I'm excited to assemble a fun mix of songs liked by the people I like!
It's Autumn Time ...
Which, at our house, means it's time to bundle up, grab KFC to go, and head to the Riverfront Park for a cozy picnic and stroll. It was a gloomy day, but still fun to carry on this little tradition. And for tradition's sake, we also took plenty of pictures. We got some great shots, except for the fact that Eliot's a stinker when it comes to looking at, let alone smiling for the camera these days. One thing we'll miss about Oregon is how friendly and willing people are to take pictures. The nicest people offered to take pictures for us which resulted in some really nice candid pics of our fam. Here are several of our favorites ...
Fantastic of all of us, don't you think? That's my boy!
Almost picture perfect. "Stare at the camera blankly, Eliot."
This tree was unbelievable. As much as I really like how this picture turned out, I wish it had better captured the bright orange color of the leaves ... a digital SLR is calling me (from a few years away, but still calling ...)
A little fuzzy, but a fantastic shot. Again, thanks to a kind stranger!
Love the boys' faces in this one. Now I know where Eliot gets his devilish grin.
Cheesy boys. I love this photo.
Eliot and me. It's tricky to get him to smile (or look at the camera) these days.
"A kiss, Mama?" Me and my little smoocher.
The sweet woman whose husband took our family shots got Eliot to smile so sweetly for her (don't mind the grape skin in his teeth!). She reminded me a bit of my own mom and made me miss home ...
I dream of someday taking a dinner cruise on the "Willamette Queen" ...
And just because I was feeling artsy ...
"To Every Thing There Is a Season"
--Ecclesiastes 3:1-8, 11
I'm not a big fan of change. No, let me state that differently. I hate change. I hate being uprooted from what's comfortable and predictable. Which is kind of funny because you'd think I'd be used to it by now. I, of my own choosing, went away to college. I, of my own choosing, served a mission halfway across the world. Grant and I, of our own choosing (mostly), have moved four times in our seven years of marriage and will probably move another few times before we reach year 10. You'd think I'd be able to roll with the punches by now. But I am not.
So it shouldn't come as any surprise that my recent change in callings at church hit me hard. Like I have done with so many other changes in my life, I have dragged my feet on this one. I did not readily accept this change when it happened. It came a little sooner than expected, which caught me off guard, and I have felt more upset about it than even I, the change-hater, expected I would. I'm a big girl and have served in enough callings by now to know how it works -- you serve for a period of time, and you get released and someone else takes over. Which is perfectly fine. It's how it's always worked, it's how it's meant to work, it's a blessing to everyone involved that we don't stay stagnant in callings forever. But, for a change-hater, it rocked my world too much for my liking. I knew and loved the sisters I served with. My responsibilities conveniently "worked" with my schedule as a mom and law student's wife. I've been in a Relief Society presidency for almost five years now, so I knew my responsibilities. I was comfortable. That's the dangerous part. I was too comfortable.
Which the Lord knew perfectly well. So, He knew it was time for a change. And it doesn't matter how much I dragged my heels or resisted or fought this change; it's here, and it's time to move forward. And I'm sure Heavenly Father, knowing that I'm stubborn and resistant, knew that I'd fight it. So He lovingly provided me with needed reminders and counsel through the words of His prophets and the wonders of His creation.
The first loving answer I received regarding all this change came from a talk given by President Henry B. Eyring at the general Relief Society Broadcast. Because I was feeling a little low about the change in calling, which had happened only a week prior to the broadcast, I skipped out on the luncheon and missed my last opportunity to attend that special event with friends. I even missed getting to sit with my dearest friends at the broadcast because I purposefully came just in time for the meeting and slipped in the back. Ornery little one, aren't I. Even with all my stubbornness, the words of that great and gentle leader of the Church pierced my closed-off heart and began a series of inspirations that have brought me to my answer about this change in my life. President Eyring, in talking to the sisters of the Church about their legacy, told about the early leaders in the Church, those who served in the first season of service after the Restoration of the gospel. Here's some of what President Eyring said:
"It is clear from the record they left that those women of the first period of Relief Society felt the joy the Lord promised [them]. He was in the work with them. He prospered it, and they felt joy and light.
"But the Prophet Joseph foresaw that another season would follow. He saw the grand works they would build in the first season. But he also said that they were to serve, bless, and care for those close to them, known personally by them.
"After a joyful time of service for the Relief Society, the Lord led them into another season, away from the fields they had planted so magnificently. It was hard for the faithful men who inherited, for instance, the hospital system they had expanded on the foundation the Relief Society had built. The Lord, through His prophets, made clear that His priesthood servants could hand the trust of maintaining and building that powerful instrument for good to others. And so the Church gave away its marvelous hospital system.
"I know and admire the men who had felt the joy of service in that hospital system. And I saw their recognition that the joy had come from being at work with the Lord, not from their own accomplishments. So they smiled and gave away gladly what they had built. They had faith that the Lord saw a greater need for their service elsewhere, in other fields in another season."
So it shouldn't come as any surprise that my recent change in callings at church hit me hard. Like I have done with so many other changes in my life, I have dragged my feet on this one. I did not readily accept this change when it happened. It came a little sooner than expected, which caught me off guard, and I have felt more upset about it than even I, the change-hater, expected I would. I'm a big girl and have served in enough callings by now to know how it works -- you serve for a period of time, and you get released and someone else takes over. Which is perfectly fine. It's how it's always worked, it's how it's meant to work, it's a blessing to everyone involved that we don't stay stagnant in callings forever. But, for a change-hater, it rocked my world too much for my liking. I knew and loved the sisters I served with. My responsibilities conveniently "worked" with my schedule as a mom and law student's wife. I've been in a Relief Society presidency for almost five years now, so I knew my responsibilities. I was comfortable. That's the dangerous part. I was too comfortable.
Which the Lord knew perfectly well. So, He knew it was time for a change. And it doesn't matter how much I dragged my heels or resisted or fought this change; it's here, and it's time to move forward. And I'm sure Heavenly Father, knowing that I'm stubborn and resistant, knew that I'd fight it. So He lovingly provided me with needed reminders and counsel through the words of His prophets and the wonders of His creation.
The first loving answer I received regarding all this change came from a talk given by President Henry B. Eyring at the general Relief Society Broadcast. Because I was feeling a little low about the change in calling, which had happened only a week prior to the broadcast, I skipped out on the luncheon and missed my last opportunity to attend that special event with friends. I even missed getting to sit with my dearest friends at the broadcast because I purposefully came just in time for the meeting and slipped in the back. Ornery little one, aren't I. Even with all my stubbornness, the words of that great and gentle leader of the Church pierced my closed-off heart and began a series of inspirations that have brought me to my answer about this change in my life. President Eyring, in talking to the sisters of the Church about their legacy, told about the early leaders in the Church, those who served in the first season of service after the Restoration of the gospel. Here's some of what President Eyring said:
"It is clear from the record they left that those women of the first period of Relief Society felt the joy the Lord promised [them]. He was in the work with them. He prospered it, and they felt joy and light.
"But the Prophet Joseph foresaw that another season would follow. He saw the grand works they would build in the first season. But he also said that they were to serve, bless, and care for those close to them, known personally by them.
"After a joyful time of service for the Relief Society, the Lord led them into another season, away from the fields they had planted so magnificently. It was hard for the faithful men who inherited, for instance, the hospital system they had expanded on the foundation the Relief Society had built. The Lord, through His prophets, made clear that His priesthood servants could hand the trust of maintaining and building that powerful instrument for good to others. And so the Church gave away its marvelous hospital system.
"I know and admire the men who had felt the joy of service in that hospital system. And I saw their recognition that the joy had come from being at work with the Lord, not from their own accomplishments. So they smiled and gave away gladly what they had built. They had faith that the Lord saw a greater need for their service elsewhere, in other fields in another season."
And there was my answer. The Lord was leading me into a new season, into a new field of labor. It was my turn to "smile and [give] away gladly what [I] had built." The Lord, as He did for His early saints, "saw a greater need for [my] service elsewhere, in other fields in another season."
As I contemplated this answer, I realized that I was released from my calling on September 27, days after the literal change of seasons -- a physical symbol of this time of change in my life. Each day as I'm out on walks or running errands and see literally strewn about me the evidence that all of God's creations are subject to change, I am gently reminded that I can't resist what God intends for me. He knows why I am needed to teach His young women in this ward at this period of time. He knows what I can share with them that will touch them, and maybe more importantly, He knows what they can share with me.
I'm off to get ready for church, to teach my lesson to and learn from the amazing Laurels I get to serve. I'm off to find out what the Lord now needs me to know, to feel and to experience. I'm off to a new field and a new season of service.
"I Come to the Beach to Breathe ..."
... That saying was written all over cards and notebooks in one of the shops we looked at in Seaside, and I think it perfectly describes why I love the beach so much ... I feel like I can breathe! There's something about having the ocean in view that automatically calms me. I feel peaceful there, relaxed. Here are some pictures (in no particular order) of our recent trip to the coast. Enjoy a little moment to breathe ... I won't say anything about the photos except the one of the seagull swooping right into the shot of me and Eliot on the pier. It was a total coincidence, but Grant was a pretty lucky shot!
Love These Ladies
Last night I enjoyed a fantastic night out with the ladies, courtesy of Ruth, the Relief Society President I served under, who was generous enough to take all of the women who served in her presidency out to dinner. We enjoyed an amazing meal (I had a Cordon Bleu sandwich that makes me drool just thinking about it!), out-of-this-world dessert (tuxedo chocolate torte, anyone?), and entertainment that made me hurt from laughing so hard. Ruth and Martha had cooked up a surprise performance for us, which they presented in the parking lot just outside the restaurant. It was beyond hysterical, and I'm sure our waitresses and any patrons who could see us through the window were totally baffled at the fact that we had not had a sip of alcohol but were totally punchy regardless. Needless to say, I will MISS seeing these women on a regular basis. Not only did they provide regular and much-needed comic relief, but they were among my greatest support system here in Salem and became true and cherished friends. How grateful I am for the opportunity to have served with them and to have met such incredible, talented women. I treasure our friendships. My new calling is the Laurel Advisor in Young Women, which is a completely new realm for me. I'm nervous about this calling but excited for the fun and growth that it will bring. Because of the amazing experience I had while serving in Relief Society, I am confident that the Lord will bless me with additional growth opportunities and cherished new friendships as I move on to a new season of service. Here's to wonderful women.
Today I'm Breaking My Sugar Fast ...
... to have a Kit Kat in honor of a beautiful woman in our ward who passed away a little over a week ago. She was just a little older than my own mother and was taken too quickly by cancer. I didn't know sweet Kathy well at all. She was so private, but I always admired her. She was humble, lovely, and quietly faithful in her church service. I knew her and her husband best as one of the poor couples who often sat by us in the very back of the chapel. She and her sweet husband tolerated us and our Eliot escapades. She always smiled warmly and never seemed too annoyed by us. Apparently, Kathy's nick-name was "Kit Kat," which was her favorite candy bar, and a woman in our ward suggested that we all buy, hand out, and enjoy Kit Kats today, which would have been sweet Kathy's 60th birthday, in honor of that sweet, unassuming lady. Have a Kit Kat today to honor the lovely women in your life. I will.
Congratulations ...
... to my brother-in-law, Louie, who just completed the "Lotoja" (Logan to Jackson Hole) race this past weekend! That's a lot of miles to log, but probably as pretty as it gets!
And congrats to Mary and Madelyn, who were no doubt the cutest support crew there!
"I Will Not Take These Things For Granted"
My recent vow/mantra of not wishing away our final year of law school (see "My New Mantra" post) was reinforced profoundly this week when Grant called me Monday morning with some sad news. An attorney in Utah who had been a friend and mentor to Grant was killed in a car accident over the weekend while traveling to Southern Utah for a family vacation. I knew the man only from things Grant had told me about him -- that Grant had really admired him, that he was a Willamette Law School graduate, that he was a man of integrity, a wise and effective attorney, and that he was among the attorneys who was kindly showing Grant the ropes. As I have for many of Grant's professional associates whom I've never officially met, but hear about as Grant tells me about his budding career, I developed a gratitude for Nyal Bodily and other men and women like him, who, with perhaps no personal gain, aren't too busy, too important, or too talented to take the time to help "the new guy." From the sounds of it, this was a good man, who, perhaps illogically to us in the here and now, was taken too soon, or, in the words of his beautifully written obituary, "before [his family's] hearts were ready." And as such situations sometimes do, this one hit too close to home.
Like I said, I didn't know Grant's friend, but it was far too easy to put ourselves in the position of his family. Nyal was raised in Orem, attended Grant's same high school, and married the "love of his life." They had gone to law school at Willamette, got their career off to a good start in Provo, and, if their financial situation was anything like ours will be, probably paid off their whopping debt not too long ago. They had a young family, and in many ways, I imagine they were just beginning their family's promising life together. He was good at what he did; he was good to his family. The comparisons to my own life were a little haunting; like I told Grant, "that's us in ten years." So when Grant called me with the news, it was very easy to feel the gravity of the situation and to feel a profound loss for a family I had never met. In our prayers that night, I choked up as I prayed for that family, that they would be comforted, that they would have courage to face the days ahead.
When Grant called me to tell me what had happened, he sheepishly apologized after he'd recounted the events, and said, "Sorry I called just to tell you that." But I'm glad he did. Although I did not have much to say, I was thankful that Grant thought first to call me for whatever comfort I could give. Because this was one of those "wake-up call" moments that make you want to cling to those you love -- to just hear their voice, to know they're still there. To be comforted that for now all is well, that you are safe, that you are healthy. I remember feeling similarly across the ocean in Spain when I learned of the events of 9/11. I remember one of my sisters telling me that the only thing she could think to do that day was to huddle her little family together and hold and hug her husband and children. Sometimes I think we need to witness tragedies, even if from afar, to recognize how safe, healthy, and good our lives are, at least for today.
All the more reason for me not to wish away my life, even the hard stuff. Because you never know when it could all change or be taken from you. So for today I'm happy that my husband is still here, that together we're working on finishing up school so Grant can have a career that will support our family. I'm happy that we're all healthy, that no disease or illness is pressing upon us as it does for so many. I'm happy that I have a little boy who is physically well and developing right on track. I'm happy that I have the gospel, that my life has meaning, purpose, and direction. I'm happy to have a place to live and food to eat. I'm happy to have two sets of parents and siblings who love and suport me, who would do anything for me if I just asked. At a time in my life when it would be easy to focus on how little we have, there are moments, even if they come as the result of hearing tragic news, when I realize just how much I do have. So today, and hopefully always, I will not take these things for granted.
"The Bridge That God Built"
We stumbled upon this beautiful piece of Americana today on our way back from the coast. This is the Drift Creek Bridge, which is not only beautiful to look at, but has a miraculous little story behind it. When you visit the bridge, you're asked to only walk across it, and inside you'll find a guest book you can sign and a one-page printout of the story behind the bridge. It is a faith-filled, heartwarming story that gave us goosebumps when we read it. I was tempted to type up the whole thing (and I'd be willing to do so and e-mail it to anyone interested), but the basic gist is that this bridge was to be torn down back in 1997, but a couple, the parents of five young children at the time, both received a prompting in the middle of the night to "check the measurements" of the concrete bridge they had just built on the property where they would soon build a home. When they were both awakened by the same prompting, they racked their brains trying to figure out what it meant. When they put the pieces together that their bridge might be the answer to saving the historic Drift Creek Bridge, they acted immediately and requested a hearing to stop the Drift Creek bridge demolition, which was already in its beginning stages. At the hearing, the couple suggested that, at their own cost and expecting nothing in return, they would relocate the bridge to their property so that the public could continue to enjoy the rich piece of history. At that point the wife, who authored the story, said that miracle after miracle occurred so they could secure the remains of the bridge and then restore it. But they had enormous hardships along the way, and at one point wanted to give up altogether. But again, miracles took place to keep them going, including having a local lumber company contact them in person about needing to log the area around their home -- which provided the couple with the specified wood they would need to rebuild the framework of the bridge. Another miracle included receiving a 1999 calendar in the mail in October of that year (a little late in the year to be receiving a "new" calendar) from a life insurance provider through whom the couple didn' t even have insurance. The woman broke down into tears when the picture for October -- the month she received the calendar -- was the Drift Creek Bridge, the one that at that time was strewn about in pieces in her yard. Such divine interventions inspired the couple to press forward and make their dream a reality, despite the toll it was taking on them, their marriage, and their family. When all the pieces came together -- literally -- the bridge you see in the pictures above, was the result. And according to the woman who wrote the story, every time she sees it (they live in a beautiful home just on the other side of the bridge), she sees "the bridge that God built."Today was one of those days I'm so happy we took the turnoff we've always meant to take and found this golden piece of history and a story that I will forever love.
Round 3, Take 5
Yep, a new school year means a new photo in front of the law school. Our "happy thought" these days is that we only have ONE more of these to take!! Can you see Grant in a cap and gown ... almost?!
My Other Goal ...
Is to work on positive reinforcement with Eliot. I had a "guilty mommy" moment tonight when my extra-tired Eliot (he's been sick, poor thing) wanted to go to bed so badly that he kept pointing to his bed and asking for ... "time out" (we put him in his crib for time out). Sad. :(
Okay other moms, ideas for positive reinforcement with your little ones? I'll prep you right off the bat -- I'm not one for bribes/rewarding with treats. Just looking for ways to focus on the positive and praise my son for the good things instead of saying "no" so much or resorting to "time out" too often (which I didn't think I did, but after tonight, I'm reevaluating...).
My New Mantra
When I went away to school at Ricks College (now BYU-Idaho ... guess that dates me, huh), my older sister, Melissa, who had also gone to school at Ricks, gave me this piece of advice: "Don't wish it away, sis. It goes too fast." I never forgot that advice, and, just as my sister had almost predicted I would, I did find myself wishing my college experience away at times. When I encountered midterms or finals, when I was getting my heart broken by the first "RM" I dated, I started to wish it away. But Melissa's advice would come back to my mind, and I'd try to refocus on the good stuff -- the roommates I loved, the FHE brothers who became great friends, the niche I carved out for myself as a "Scrollie" at the college newspaper. That was a great time of my life, but also as Melissa said it would, it went way too fast.
Just like my mission went too fast. Just like my newlywed days and years working at the MTC went too fast. Just like Eliot's short time as a newborn went too fast. And as much as I tried hard not to do it, at some point or another, I found myself wishing away each of those great times of my life.
Probably because those great times were also hard times. Although in hindsight I wonder how life as a carefree college student was ever "hard," but it was, at the time. When looked at compared to life in law school while starting our family, those early college years may seem like a piece of cake, but at the time, that phase had its own difficult moments. Finals were stressful because my I needed good grades to hang on to my scholarship and hopefully earn a scholarship to BYU so I could finish my Bachelor's Degree. And I'm sure even that "RM" breaking my heart was life-shattering at the time. Which is why I probably wished it was "all over with" so I could move on to the next, "easier" phase.
What I'm learning is that the next phase never gets easier. It's likely equally as hard (or harder!), just in a new and different way. So the trick, just like my sister taught me, is to not wish away the phase you're in. To live in the moment gratefully. To know that you're right where you need to be, when you need to be there. To know that, as a good friend recently taught me, God doesn't give consolation prizes, so there are no "plan B" lives. The life I'm living is exactly what God intended for me -- my "plan A" -- so I can be confident and assured that I'm doing what I need to be doing and gaining the experiences that will prepare me for what's next.
If my rambling is leading me to any point, it's this: though it's going to be hard, my goal for this next new year is to not wish it away. It's going to be hard to do. This is Grant's LAST year. His LAST year of law school! We're so close to done we can almost taste it. We can almost envision the career that's on the horizon, see ourselves moving on from student lifestyle (halelujiah), just moving on period. But, we're not there yet. There's still that one year (plus the Bar ... bleh). And within that year is just what I've been talking about. Being right where we're supposed to be when we're supposed to be here. Gaining the experiences that will prepare us for what's next. So, as much as I'd like it "over with," I'm going to try as hard as ever to not wish away this last year. To live in the moment. To focus on the good stuff. Because I'm guessing, as tired as we are of student living and all that comes with it, one of these days I'm going to be looking back on these years, just like I do with my college years, my mission, our newlywed phase, and when Eliot was a newborn, and realize it went way too fast.
And I'll wish it hadn't. So here's to the good stuff that's happening right here, right now. And what is the good stuff? Living in a gorgeous place where I'm an hour drive away from the ocean, and a half an hour drive away from hiking areas with giant, beautiful evergreens and waterfalls. Living in an easygoing town where we have great parks, a wonderful children's museum, fun restaurants, a beautiful campus, not to mention being an hour away from Portland where there are gardens galore, the biggest bookstore I've ever seen, a beautiful riverfront and again, lots of places to explore and discover. Having a great ward and wonderful friends who have become a vital support system to me while I've been away from home and family. Getting to rely wholly on each other as a family and cling to each other's love and support while we're finishing up this intense period of our lives together, and enjoying the increased love and appreciation for each other that has come as a result of pulling together. Having one-on-one time with my Eliot and getting to enjoy him and all that he's learning and experiencing. The simplicity of a minimized budget, schedule, lifestyle.
That's the good stuff I'm not going to wish away this year.
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