Release

Three years ago, I was asked to serve as our ward Relief Society President. Looking back on how I felt before the call, I'm actually surprised that many of my feelings and questions are the same now as they were then. I would expect to have grown up a little since then. It's as if three years of heightened blessings, growth, and protection were inserted into a flat line that is my life. The date-stamp on that post is difficult for me to reconcile.

Today I was released. And tonight I can't sleep. Our bishop was released a few months ago. I wonder if he had a similar night like this.

For the record: RSP was never a burden to me that I didn't want to bear. I have prayed to Heavenly Father to relieve me of many burdens, but never once did this one become too painful to bear, that I would ask Him to relieve me of it. Whenever I was working on Relief Society tasks, I felt close to Heavenly Father, and I felt His love for His daughters. I could feel Him near me, watching me, guiding me, making sure that I did what He wanted. That was what I have always wanted above anything else for as long as I can remember. People may say that I can still have that feeling in whatever capacity that I serve. But the calling of RSP carries with it a special blessing that I can't fully describe. It was a unique feeling that I will hopefully always remember, but I won't really have in any other calling that I can think of (for women). I will try to always remember it, but I already miss it.

A lesson on Faith

I have almost always been very close to my mom. There was a brief (it seemed to me) period when I was about 13 when I didn't really want to be friends with her. I have no idea how I got over that, but I know it didn't last long. It probably had something to do with her being away from home a lot for work and my having to be more independent instead of dealing with a mom all up in my business every day and wishing for more independence. Whatever the reason, I'm glad for it.

My mom and I could always talk. I never felt that she wasn't interested in what was going on in my life. She would ask me about what I thought about people and things, and I would ask her about what she did when she was younger. We had many of our long talks in her room on her bed with a warm lamp on next to the bed. She would be reading a book and I'd come in and just interrupt her reading to talk. Many times, I'd be sharing something in my head that I was learning, and she'd remark at how backwards it seemed (and probably felt) to learn spiritual lessons from her daughter. She was strengthening my spiritual self-esteem, probably intentionally, and I'm glad she was good at that, too.

After Joel went to bed tonight, I settled down on the couch to munch a granola bar and catch up on news and messages that I had missed throughout the day. Halfway through my granola bar he came back down complaining that his stomach was growling. He had barely eaten his dinner, so the problem was obvious. I said he could go eat a pear, if he wanted. So he sliced one up the way he liked it and walked into the living room with it to join me.

In our house, we always insist that the boys eat at the table. I don't like to find surprise foods wedged down in my couch or sticky handprints in strange places. I expect to have to wipe down the table pretty often, but I don't like the idea of having to wipe down every other surface in the house just as often.

So I told Joel to go eat his pear at the table. He turned to go, then turned back around and said, "why do I have to eat at the table when you don't?"

Fair enough question. "Because I don't forget that my hands are sticky and get them all over the couch or places around the house." Reasonable parental answer.

That's when he launched into an analogy lesson on faith: When we have faith in Heavenly Father to do something that we need or want Him to do, He does it. When we have faith in people to do something that we need or want them to do, they do it. Good results always follow faith. So, I should have faith that he knows to not get sticky hands all over the couch and remember to wash up and all the things that we have taught him. Did I mention that he's 7?

I said the only thing appropriate for me to say, and what my mother taught me long ago about instilling spiritual self-confidence in our children, "Joel, you're absolutely right. Eat your pear in here, if you like."

I'm documenting this story because I want to remember the first time that my first-born taught me a gospel principle in his own words and way. I was pretty stunned that he could draw an analogy so readily and at his boldness at teaching me a lesson that I needed to learn. And I want to remember how important it is for me to have faith in his ability to learn what is right and act upon it.

My mother probably felt this same awkward jolt in the universe. I'm sure I will feel it many more times. I can't help but smile inwardly. I'm happy to learn from my little one, because it means that he's going to be a strong and mighty force for good, he has a spiritual strength that will protect him as he grows more independent, and that I am actually helping him build the strength that I have prayed for him to have. And, I'm connecting with my mom, from thousands of miles away, both as I pass on the gifts she gave me and as I experience her emotions that she felt when her kids were young. And that smile opens the floodgates for the tears to flow.

The basics

Things that I take for granted, but which make life thousands of times easier:

Modern appliances

Healthcare

Peaceful Society

Fresh Water

Education

Human Rights

Food

Heat

Shelter

Religion

As I look through that list and imagine life without simply one of these, I get fearful. I don't know if I have what it takes to endure a life without any one of them much less several of them. Thus far I have not been tested, and I think that is a blessing. For all of those who have, it is my duty to be compassionate.

Maybe I haven't been tested because God knows I'm not strong enough.

Hit the Road, Jack!

Goodbye 8 yr old child,

Goodbye 5000 BTU air conditioner,

Goodbye small bale of hay,

Goodbye 3 1/2 dozen eggs,

Goodbye 10 chihuahas,

Goodbye 2 1/2 automobile tires,

Goodbye 1 1/2 mid-sized microwaves,

and anything else in the neighborhood of 55 pounds.

And don't you come back no more, no more, no more no more!

Summer plans

Even though we're only three weeks into summer, we might have a hard time finding a way to get to everything we have planned to do. But at least it'll be fun trying.

Last week we went to Ocean Shores to feel the soft Pacific sand in our toes. It was great. I have no pictures to show for it, sadly. Our camera was not invited. The highlights included a wonderful playground, Joel and I battling each other at air hockey, swimming in the heated outdoor pool in the cold rain, barefoot

runs on the beach, hermit crabs, engineering irrigation systems, dune climbing, restaurants, sunsets, card games, and deer sightings.

After playing the 4th of July fireworks show in the cold and rain, we jumped right into Art Camp for Joel. His teacher was complimentary of his dedication and attention to detail. He got to do some techniques I hadn't a clue about, and we have some lovely artwork to share. His daily complaints to us that camp was too long (3 hrs) and that he didn't want to go back fell on deaf ears. He secretly enjoyed it. And it seems he is a natural artist:

Clockwise from top left: handmade paper (using two-batches in landscape, and abstract with

one batch), oil painting quail on canvas, painted and glazed ceramic tile, oil painted water lilies a la Monet, charcoal drawing of a stuffed toy, and clear glue with chalk on black paper (no idea if that has a better name to it).

We also started swim lessons and violin lessons this week. Joel got a new violin and Jamie got the old one.

We spent lots of time in the sun at the water park. I took Joel on his first grown-up roller coaster rides and water slides, and now he's hooked (as am I)!

Upcoming plans include camping trips, painting clouds in the kids' room, sports camp, a week on Vashon Island with the grandparents and camp, a beach trip to Oregon, 11 days in Georgia. We've begun homeschooling, although it's been rough and intermittent. Our gorgeous garden is growing carrots, peas, potatoes, and tomatoes. And the kids are past the halfway point on their potentially underachieving summer reading goals. So, stay tuned, and I'll try to bring along the camera.

Brothers or Friends?

At the end of summer last year, I remember thinking that we had been having such a fun time together that I wasn't sure if I was ready for it to be over when the boys had to start school again.

Why is it now that I'm almost desperately looking for ways to fill our summer calendar in a panic at the prospect of having two boys who seem to vie for my favor and attention in hardly appreciated ways whenever they are together? I know I'm not alone. I'm looking through the community catalog at those week-long camps that last for solid chunks of time that scream "Errands!", "Pedicure!", "Naptime!", "Workouts at the Gym!" and any number of indulgences that I'm worried about imminently giving up when school's out. Many of them are already full. And I can't help but wish I could meet the mothers who signed their kids up for those camps and give them all a sympathetic hug.

Well, I better wind up the blogging... clock's a tickin'...

Pray for sun, so that we can take all of our big personalities outdoors.

Pray for rain, so that we don't have to pay to water our garden.

Pray for clouds, so that I can finally finish painting the boys' room.

Pray for bugs, so that the boys will have something to catch and entertain them.

And anything else that comes to mind!

We got to have a Party!

Jamie was very decisive about what kind of party he wanted. He wanted to bounce and slide like a king for 2 exhaustive hours, eat cake on his throne, and then be showered with presents from his favorite people. It was a blast!

And we're pretty sure everyone had a great time!

We even managed to photograph his big brother having fun, too, though he worked pretty hard at convincing us to the contrary.

Three cheers for good friends and silly faces!