A Summer Sabbath

Last year, I felt gypped out of my summer.  This year, I am not complaining.

I have to keep reminding myself of the former, because it helps me with the latter.

I carefully prepared for church this morning... just like every other Sunday.

Only this Sunday, the A/C was sputtering (at best) and ineffective in our building.

This Sunday, everyone needed a program.

As a fan.

This Sunday, we all had a glow about us.

(Maybe from sweat, maybe from the Spirit.) 

Sacrament meeting wasn't too bad, but it got progressively hotter as the meetings went on, and by the end of Relief Society, I felt like I was going to melt. 

Choir practice felt (as heat exhaustion goes) like mile 12 of a half marathon.

But we were all there - faithful people wanting to worship, even if it was hot, because it was the right place to be on the Sabbath (and as my friend said in the closing prayer, because she knows it's hotter in hell).

In spite of the heat, I felt the Spirit testify of the power of the temple, the reality of the Atonement, and what things I need to ponder this afternoon.

I felt the love of my Savior.

And now, as I sit in my small but air conditioned space at home with a big glass of (mostly) ice (and some) water, I feel grateful for the experience.

Because I know that feeling hot for 4 hours is a small thing to sacrifice in exchange for what I was given in return.

On Memorization

I decided last week that if I used a portion of the time I spent in the bathroom and the car memorizing scripture (no extra time required - just multitask while washing your face or driving to the store!), my day would be a degree more productive without much additional effort.

I started with something easy: Psalm 23. Within a week, I had it down, thanks to a Mormon Tabernacle Choir rendition of the Psalm that helps jog my memory about the order of the phrases.

Then I started in on Isaiah 53. I figured if Abinadi can do it, so can I.  Although perhaps someone could put it to music, too (Handel's Messiah doesn't cover it all)... it would help me.  I'm still working on it, but I have been interested to observe that, as I memorize, I have to first make sense of it - which means I find myself pondering why Isaiah used certain words or phrases.

Why, for example, did he refer to Jesus Christ as "a man of sorrows"? Of all things, I would not have considered His life as one marked with sorrow - particularly because of His triumphant victory over death and hell.  However, as I pondered, I understood that when He saw those who had rejected Him and the salvation He offered, it undoubtedly brought Him much sorrow.  But that cannot be all He experienced - after all, men are that they might have joy.  And He describes His joy multiple places in scripture.  Thus, it stands to reason that His mortal experience was not unlike mine - the deep sorrow He felt carved out a place in His heart for the joy, and His capacity for joy was expanded through His sorrows. 

No wonder He felt a fulness of joy after the completion of His infinite Atonement!

So Exciting!

I came home from church and other activities tonight to find little baby cucumbers, and little teeny baby bell peppers growing in my back porch pot garden!  I'm a real gardener!  It was SO exciting.  Fresh veggies for lunch every day, hand picked and tasty... here I come!

Many more happy things happened today too... but it's super late and my internet finally started working just when I need to go to bed. So you don't get to hear about them.  But my RS lesson went better than expected (and sorta different than the two I planned), and I'm grateful it's over and grateful for the guidance of the Spirit as I teach. It helps me more than anything else could. It turns out that what I needed to learn from the lesson and what I needed to teach were two different principles - and that was OK.  The right one came out during the lesson.

Happy Monday (almost)!

On Calming Storms

Sitting at a stoplight on my way home from CostCo, I looked ahead of me and noticed something unusual: even though there were only a few drops of water on my windshield - not even enough to justify turning on the wipers - the street a few blocks ahead of me looked like it had just been pummeled with rain.  I was literally sitting at the edge of the storm. Sure enough, when the light turned green, I drove right into it - a rip-roaring downpour that rivaled anything I've ever seen.  Windshield wipers on top speed increased visibility to maybe 10 feet.  Roads flash flooded with water up to the headlights. Thunder crashed only seconds after lightning struck.  Umbrellas were useless.  Then, an hour later, it was gone. Rain softly drizzled from the sky, then stopped completely, and all that was left was destruction.  Asphalt roads torn up in huge chunks.  Tree branches down.  Stalled cars stranded in ginormous puddles.  The post-storm stillness.

Now I study and ponder and seek the Spirit to guide me as I teach tomorrow about the Master of the storm. And as I do so, (now that I've quit trying to prepare the lesson my way,) He calms the storm of indecision in my mind, and replaces it instead with peace in my heart. I think I finally know how I'm going to present this one.

“If we love God, we will trust and obey Him, as Jesus did. If we love others, we will help them meet their physical and spiritual needs.”

Can You Relate To...

This?


Or This?


My sis and I had a great conversation about Dilbert-land tonight. It was fun. These two strips made me laugh the hardest... probably because I can totally relate.

Holy Rock

I like this pic. There's a wonderful child standing behind that little rock, peeking through the hole in its center.  It represents perspective.  It represents the power of small things - currents of water and consistent, repetitive effort - to accomplish great things. And it represents love. There is a God in heaven who knew that she would be delighted with this rock - so He made it.


I have been impressed the past few days with the readiness with which our Father answers our prayers, and the profound blessing of His love. In preparing to teach Relief Society on Sunday, I have been studying the life of Christ (no small topic to cover in a 40 minute lesson...). It is profound to consider that every doing and teaching of His life was motivated by one thing: love. As such, no matter what problem we face or struggle we confront, we can find an answer in studying His words and His deeds. As I have considered this truth, I find that it adds a new dimension to the scripture in which He declared, "I am the way, the truth, and the life...".

He is my rock. He gives me perspective. And it is through the small things He asks me to do that I can become great.

Random Thoughts

I caved. A week's forecast of 90-degree weather and no rain in sight... that'll do it to just about anyone. I finally called a friend and recruited help getting my A/C units installed again (thanks!). Now I can move from the "man it's hot" stage to the "woah, check out that electric bill!" phase of summer.  Whee!

Does anyone else use their laptop's battery life as a method for determining whether they've spent too much time on the computer in a weekend?  I just congratulated myself for going 3 days in a row without having to charge the lappy.  (And then I plugged it in, so it won't auto-hibernate while I finish writing this post.)  What a way to measure accomplishment!  Granted, one of the days was 4th of July and I wasn't even home, but whatever.

In the spirit of the holiday season... some of my fireworks pics.  We were sitting downwind...

My favorites are the ones that blow up big and then - KA-POW! - you feel the explosion as much as you hear it.

Happy day-after Independence Day.

Small and Simple Things

In the summertime, children are drawn to water like moths are to light. The creek by the lodge we stayed in last week was no exception. It was probably the result of snow runoff, punctuated by little waterfalls here and there, running swiftly down the mountainside.  A part of it crossed the path we followed on our hike on Saturday. It seemed treacherous to cross the first time, and most of us ended up with wet shoes, wet feet, or more, depending on our ability to scurry across the little "bridge" made up of two of slick logs. The best "creek adventure," though, involved full-on playing in the water as well as a mini-project to make this creek crossing slightly less treacherous.  With six or eight of the kids, Gpa diverted the water in some places and removed debris in other places. A small dam was built above where the water wasn't wanted, and a larger dam was removed from the water's natural path. Stepping stones replaced the logs for easy crossing. When we were finished, some were covered in mud, others looked like they had barely touched the water, but all had had fun.

On the outside, it might have appeared that we were simply playing in the water: squealing about how its frigid temperatures made our feet numb; squishing our toes in the mud and letting the creek wash them clean again; picking up interesting rocks, keeping some and using others for a dam; scrambling after runaway flip flops; and getting generally muddy and wet. A deeper analysis, however, reveals some interesting ideas: relationships were built along with a creek crossing, allowing love to flow more easily ... scriptures were taught, as we discovered a real-life answer to the question "How long can rolling waters remain impure?" ... memories were made, unrestrained by the usual requirements of the day (keep clean and dry so mom doesn't have to do laundry) ... and family drew closer together because of a small and simple activity.

"Now ye may suppose that this is foolishness in me; but behold I say unto you, that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass; and small means in many instances doth confound the wise." (Alma 37:6)

Loving Home

I am home again.

I loved being away...

the visits with old friends - and learning how time changes some things, but not others...

the hugs from little ones - and the unconditional love they represent...

the sharing of talents, from writing to Rock Band to recorder...

the going to church with family - there's something about hearing an 8-year-old sing that touches my heart...

the laughter - from baby T's giggles to the joyful sound of cousins loving each other...

the post-kid-bedtime game ritual...

the visits to the frigid creek and accompanying adventures in mud...  

the pictures - from iPhone fuzzy to professional...

the birthday and the baptism - what a great experience!... 

and the mentos. 

I still think we should have dropped them in diet coke for one of our activities.  Maybe next time.

I love being home...

My vegetables are growing...

my perennial garden is beginning to bloom...

(hold your finger and thumb about 1/4 cm apart...)

I'm this close to buying a new living room set...

and I get to sleep in my own bed tonight!

Happy Father's Day To All The Wonderful Fathers In My Life

Tonight I made a beautiful pizza.  It had peppers, basil, home-seasoned sauce, onion, ham, pineapple, and lovely stringy mozzerella cheese.  When I took it out of the oven, it looked perfect.  The cheese had melted and browned to perfection, and it was worthy of a picture.

But I didn't take one.

Then I picked it up to move it to the table so my friend and I could eat.  Before I'd even gone one step, it fell out of my hands, and landed on the floor - plop - upside-down.  (I guess I greased the pan too well!)  My lovely friend said, "I'll eat it anyway - quick - pick it up!"  So we did.  We flipped back over the pan and put the crust back on it. Using two handy spatulas, and we scraped most of the plopped toppings back onto the pizza, spread it around a little, and put it on the table. 

I didn't take a picture of that, either, but I should have.

The pizza still tasted good.  When you make your own sauce seasonings, definitely add all of these ingredients: ground black pepper, red pepper flakes, oregano, and cinnamon.  The red pepper flakes give it a little kick, and the cinnamon makes it delish!

Then I called my dad... and my brothers... and wrote this post.  I would have made the pizza for them, too, if I were closer.  But I don't know if they would have wanted to eat it after it fell on the floor.  :-)

And that is my Father's Day story.

Score!

On today's mail:

$ received > $ owed

(New couches, here I come...)

On warm summer weather:

fun time outside with friends - awesome...

mosquitoes bites - 1.

(a small price to pay for a game of Frisbee...)

On dinner:

food in my stomach before bedtime - yes...

something substantial enough to qualify? Don't ask.

(But I do like homemade zucchini bread...)

Happy Friday!

On Theism

I attended a fireside by Elder Russell M. Nelson on Thursday evening.  He gave a masterful discourse on Theism and how critical it is to stand in support of a Theistic culture (as opposed to an Atheistic one).  He spoke boldly in favor of marriage and the traditional family (a man and a woman, married for life, having children).  He also talked about how the traditional family has a positive impact on our economy. For some interesting additional reading, peruse the talks given by Dr. Patrick Fagan at the World Congress of Families... I just did and there's a lot to think about there.  Profoundly, Elder Nelson stated that "If you lose marriage, you lose freedom of religion."  That was enough to make me sit up and pay attention (even more than I already was)!

His words opened the eyes of my understanding to why the Church is so bold in its opposition to the propositions that seek to redefine the marriage relationship, and why its members have been asked to stand for the same, actively participating in sustaining marriage and family.  I have wondered more than once how I would feel about being asked to get politically involved in my own community on issues such as these.  This, of course, then makes me wonder what I should or could be doing now to defend the Theistic culture on which our country was founded.  It is good food for thought, especially on a Sabbath eve.

You Know You're Tired When...

You start yawning at 10:30. AM.

You forget things faster than you can walk down a flight of stairs.

Washing your face seems too hard.

The best plan is the one that doesn't involve movement.

(So why am I still up???)

The Endless To Do Lists

You'd think that if I was exhausted, I wouldn't blog about being tired, I'd just go to bed.

But that would be too easy.

I learned something new today.  OK, it's not really new.  It just reinforces the existing assumptions I already have been using (mostly) to operate in my life.  It's this...

No Matter How Early You Start, You Will Never Be Done. 

With everything important, I am learning, there is always more to do.  Another project, another person to reach out to, another set of things to learn, another event, another book, another load of laundry.  Life is not about getting done.  It's about finding joy in doing, obtaining a proper balance for the current time of life, and prioritizing.  It reminds me of Elder Oaks' talk in conference a while back about Good, Better, Best.  "The number of good things we can do far exceeds the time available to accomplish them. Some things are better than good, and these are the things that should command priority attention in our lives."

It turns out that "catching up" doesn't really mean much, in the grand scheme of things.  (What or who am I catching up to?  And according to whom?)  Learning to love, teaching truth, and overcoming obstacles do mean something.  So does scripture study ... and temple attendance ... and family time.  Thus, even if today's to do list was longer at the end of the day than it was at the beginning (in spite of starting earlier ... and even if that happened yesterday, too), it's OK.

End of sermon to self. (With luck, someone else can appreciate the need for it, too.)

(End of parenthetical remarks... of which there were an overabundance tonight.)

Gale Force Winds

I heard the rumblings of thunder, and moved a chair into the sunroom so I could watch the progress of the storm.  We've had storms pretty regularly this past week, including thunder cracking just overhead (at 3:15 am) so fiercely that one jumps out of bed to shut the windows while simultaneously praying the lightning doesn't actually strike something familiar.  At first, the storm seemed pretty mild, the pitter-patter of rain and the gentle rumblings of thunder soft in the background of the passing traffic.  But within a few minutes, the fierceness of this summer thunderstorm was unleashed, and rain poured down from overhead. Not to be outdone, the wind kicked up, and then the rain was pouring not down, but sideways, through the open windows and into my home.  It looked like a hurricane when I glanced out my kitchen window as I grabbed paper towels to clean up the mess - within a minute, enough water came in one window sufficient to fill a glass and quench my thirst (I just mopped it up off the floor instead).

I don't remember having thunderstorms like these so consistently in past years.  Or weather patterns where one moment the sun in shining, and within minutes, the sky has gone dark and a torrential downpour ensues.  It is fascinating to live in a place where you can watch the clouds speed by during the time it takes the light to turn green at an intersection.  I appreciate the experience, even when it means cleaning up puddles after failing to close the windows quickly enough.

Today I watched a good brother who was recently baptized administer the ordinance of the sacrament - a sacred responsibility in itself - and noticed that he took an extra few seconds before putting the bread and water to his lips to ponder the significance of what he was about to do.  It struck me that perhaps, sometimes, our religious rituals become so commonplace that we fail to comprehend the signficance of the symbolism so deeply etched within them.  This brother's small action was a reminder to me of the privilege it is to take the sacrament of the Lord's Supper, to renew the covenants we have made with Him, and to receive afresh the remission of our sins.  What a blessing!  I am learning to deeply appreciate the insight that a new convert's perspective on the "everyday doings" of our Church can bring.  We have much to learn from these good people.

There has also been occasion to ponder the Lord's workings in my own life as I have observed my heart becoming softened in some ways, and recognized its hardness in others.  Thankfully, the Lord who is Master over the winds and the waves and the stormy rains is also Master of our souls.  His Atoning, redeeming grace makes up for what I lack, and gives me capacity to change.  With Him, nothing is impossible.