Sunday Epiphanies- The Naptime Club

Sunday Epiphanies

The Naptime Club

Last week, our church schedule changed from 9am- noon, to 11am-2pm. 

I know that a lot of people like this schedule because then they can sleep in. And NO ONE likes the 1pm-4pm schedule, so it's better than that. 

Me, though, I prefer 9:00. See, with four kids, we don't sleep past, oh, 6:30 anyway. We're already up, and since I have to have all the kids dressed and ready and out the door by 8:15 every morning throughout the week anyway, having them dressed and ready and out the door to be at church by 9:00 is no big thang. (yes. I misspelled that on purpose.) 

11-2 SUCKS. Not only is Sacrament meeting right over LUNCH TIME, the remainder of the meeting is right over NAP TIME. It's the most horrible kind of boring and the most incredibly hard kind of day to try to deal with any kid who is hungry and tired, but it's 10 times worse when you have a BABY who needs to eat and nap. 

The lunch thing is a minor issue. We just make a quick quesodilla with cheese and tortillas, cut them into small bits and let the baby eat them when we get to Sacrament meeting. But the nap thing is something else all together. 

At about 11:30 today, I found myself pacing around the lobby with my baby on my shoulder, doing the Maggie Simpson all over his pacifier. One by one, every mom with a baby near mine in age slipped out of sacrament meeting and into the lobby where we could pace and rock until our little ones drifted off to sleep. 

Tired myself, I thought how I just wanted to go home. How easy it would be to pick up all the kids and just go home for nap time. 

But you see, while it's easy, it's not alright. I have talked to countless parents who say it's too difficult to get their children to sit quietly in church (whatever religion it may be) and to behave. That they'll keep them home while they are little, and go later in life. 

Yes, it's difficult. It is hard to get a wiggly kid to sit still for an hour or more. Heck, it's hard for ME to sit still that long and I'm an adult- and a more mature adult than my husband, who can't sit still longer than my 5 year old. But, this is where I need to be. I want to teach my children from the time they are very young, that that they need to be at church. NOT just when it's convenient, or when they feel like it. Not just when it's easy, or when they're well rested or well fed. Church is important EVERY week. And so are the things we learn there. If I only go when I'm not tired, or when I'm not hungry, or when I feel like being there, then that is what they will learn. 

Important things require sacrifice. And sometimes, it's a sacrifice to be there. 

So, I plan to spend a lot of time over the next year in the lobby of my church, rocking my sweet baby to sleep. 

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"When things calm down, I'll....." (Sunday Epiphanies)

I have a dirty little secret. Wanna hear it? I'm about to tell you.

Sometimes, I  imagine how it will be when I shut the door behind my youngest child as he or she goes off to college, or moves to their own apartment after getting married or whatnot, and turning around to look at my empty house- a house that will stay clean because, at least not on a regular basis, a child will not come in and drop backpacks, toys or clothing at any given area throughout the house. No one will drop food on the floor, or leave the refrigerator door standing open.

Also, I will not have to scream at them to hurry and put their shoes on, because, once again, we're late! I will not  be scrambling to put together my primary lesson on Sunday morning because the night before was spent holding and pacing with  a sick child.

My weeks will not include early morning trips to the school, before the sun comes up, to take the kids to their twice a week choir practices. I will not have to schedule, write down, remember, and avoid double booking important things such as dental appointments, well child checks, parent teacher conferences, birthday parties, or family gatherings, intermingled with church functions, family reunions along with my OWN appointments.

Maybe I'll be healthier. Fewer people spreading fewer germs through my home.

Maybe I will sleep in. I'm not sure I remember anymore what it feels like to NOT be tired.

Perhaps I will eat better. It's difficult to resist having a corn dog for lunch when my children do.

Laundry will only need to be done once a week.

I will take long, hot showers and go to the bathroom without little heads peeking in.

I will have time to actually READ a book rather than listen to them on Audio.

Maybe I'll even pursue my dream of becoming an actress.

Right now, though, I sit staring at my Christmas tree- pretty, but terribly mismatched with all my kid's yearly ornaments, and think about the last few weeks, and the weeks to come: illness, financial issues, sweater orders to be fulfilled, and SOON! - funerals. Weddings. Photography. Blog posts, giveaways, 3 loads of laundry per day, choir practice, choir performance, Forgotten Carols this Monday, grocery shopping. Coats, hats, gloves, snow. The chip in the windshield that needs to be fixed before it cracks. The tires need to be changed and alignment adjusted. Homework, reading 20 minutes per day PER CHILD. Checking off reading folders, letting them do their computer homework, what to get  the kid's teachers for Christmas, what to get the neighbors for Christmas.... I wake at 6am and go to bed at midnight or later. I go, go, go.

And I need to be better about things. I need to pray, and read more scriptures. I need time to myself. I need a break. And I need to be light hearted more often. The problem is, I keep telling myself that this will happen when "thing calm down...." - and I am slowly coming to realize that they never will. There's always SOMETHING else. And I must learn to roll with the punches. To laugh in the face of adversity, to enjoy the hurry, learn to work well under pressure, and never let it get me down.

Two weeks ago, my son hopped out of the van to run into school, and through his brightly grinning face, cheeks and nose red with cold he said "Have a good day mom! You never have one!" And then, with a wave of his mittened hand,  he slammed the door and trotted off to have his full day of  "when I'm bigger I'll....".

What a wakeup call! I need more good days. And that's about my attitude. NOT what happens in my day, calm or chaos.



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Thankfulness Project, Day 19 and 20, Sunday Epiphanies

Thankfulness Project Days 19 and 20

November 19, 2011, Saturday

I am thankful for an adequate paycheck. To be able to finally go grocery shopping and buy what we need without having to sacrifice something ELSE we need.

November 20, 2011, Sunday

I am thankful for a handsome, loyal dog who checks on my children multiple times each night, and is trustworthy, when left in my house alone, not to mark territory, chew my furniture, or get into the garbage. I can't seem to keep him OFF the furniture when I'm not home, but at least all the does there is sleep.

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Sunday Epiphanies

I have a restless, noisy soul. I attribute that to my family history of strong,creative, independent women. It's a good thing, not a bad thing, but sometimes it gets in the way, spiritually speaking.

As has been mentioned multiple times before, I am a teacher in the primary. I have been there for nearly 2 years now, and I swear I learn more there than I ever learned in Relief Society (the adult women's class.)

Today, the primary president stood and told us that she was going to drop a pin onto the pulpit, and asked the kids (and teachers) to to close our eyes and talk to the person next to us, and that we should raise our hands again when we heard it drop. No one stopped talking until the primary president told us to stop- she had dropped the pin and no one heard it because we were talking so loudly. Then she told us to close our eyes once more and be very reverent and listen very carefully. The children (and teachers) did so, and when we heard it drop, we raised our hands. Everyone could hear it.

At church and through reading the scriptures we are taught that the Spirit whispers to us with a still small voice. By the time we reach Sunbeams (the 3 year old's class), it's common knowledge. We sing songs about prayer, and the steps involved. And when you're done praying, the final step is to sit still and listen. We also have a song about being reverent at church, and the last words in the song are "shhh. Be still."

In my younger days, I took that literally. Sit still. Sit still while the sacrament is being passed. Sit still in class. Sit still during family home evening and while we are reading scriptures. Stay on your knees after you pray and listen for the answer.

As I have gotten older, though, I find little trouble in remaining physically still. I've become not just accustomed, but even GOOD at waiting- at the store, for the doctor, in line, for my turn when playing games. And silence, while rare in the daytime hours due to my vast number of children, and, of course, my ridiculous dislike for lack of sound in my home, is still something that I come by regularly in the evening hours. And I have also come to learn that being still in it's "physical form" - sitting still in a quiet room, staying on my knees after my prayer, listening to appropriate music on Sunday- is not enough. It's isn't really ABOUT being STILL. One can receive answers to a prayer in the loudest street of the biggest city. One can receive revelation in an upbeat conversation or in the lyrics of a vibrant song. That is, one CAN- if, in the midst of chaos, one's HEART is still.

I have trouble with this. It seems, in every trial of my life, I have followed the proper procedures. Have faith. Pray- especially when it's hard. Continue to pay tithing and Fast Offerings. Be generous to those that need it. Read the scriptures. Be still and listen for the answer. It WILL come.

I find it difficult, in this situation, to wait. I am impatient this way, though I try very VERY hard. And sometimes, I think that Heavenly Father must think it a great game to see how long he can make me wait before I lose my mind and he finally gives me an answer. The problem is, actions are easy. I know what I am supposed to DO. I know that I should pray, I know that I should go to church. I do those things. I lead my children in family prayer and in Family Home Evenings. We read scriptures and talk regularly about the gospel. I even think that, though I might explode from built up pressure, I COULD get along without complaining at all- the way good, strong, Christian women are SUPPOSED to bear it all with a smile. The problem, for me, is changing the way I FEEL. I can DO the things I've been taught to do, but if my heart rages and stirs and cries out inside of me, I am at a loss as to how to calm it. Be still, my heart- or I cannot receive the answers my Heavenly Father has for me. Easier said than done. When one is disappointed or angry- an appropriately calm outward demeanor is fairly simple to achieve. Even the right words at the right time, no matter how differently you FEEL are easy to give. It's the mixing and brewing inside that cancels out all the correct things I have done and continue to do. Until my soul is utterly broken, I can't be compelled to "shhh. Be still."

My conclusion is weak. And I pose the question: How DOES one change the way they feel?

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Thankfulness Project, Day 13, Sunday Epiphanies

Thankfulness Project, Day 13

November 13, 2011, Sunday

I'm thankful for Little Caesar's Hot and Ready Pizza- it's cheap (costs 5 bucks) and you don't have to order ahead. It's a lifesaver on days where I feel too weak (today, after my sick weekend) or need a break. And my kids love it. Petty? Maybe. But sometimes, it's the little things that count.

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Sunday Epiphanies

Now, to be clear- I DID NOT WRITE THIS.

This is a letter that was sent to Pastor Jeffress following his remarks about Presidential Candidate, Mitt Romney, who happens to share my religion.

My sharing this letter, for the record, has NOTHING to do with whether or not I support Mitt Romney IN his endeavors, however, I do applaud the eloquent way this man was able to describe the discrepancies in Pastor Jeffress' misinterpretation of our religion. It's highly admirable. Too many people already have these same misunderstandings, without the help of someone in a position of power to blow them even further out of proportion.

MY goal is not to convert, necessarily, but to stop prejudices in their tracks. I resent being told I am not a Christian, and if you don't believe the way I do, I honestly respect that. But I'll tell you what- in all my nearly 30 years of activity in the church, in all the different wards and stakes and meetings I've been to, in nearly a dozen different states and two countries, never once have I ever heard anyone get up and preach against another religion. We teach about OUR religion and about OUR beliefs, not about how horrible other people are or how cult like other religions are. Never have I heard an authority figure shout "BEWARE THOSE OTHER CHRISTIANS!" or tell us not to vote for a person because they are of a certain belief. It astounds me that other religions would find it appropriate to do so themselves. Why? Unless you are threatened by it, and even then, WHY try to diminish another religion that is in no way doing harm to anyone? It's one of those things that makes me lose respect, rather than gain it. Only a few will be "sheep" enough to fall for Jeffress' ignorant remarks. MORE will take the opportunity to research and discover what's REALLY going on here. I hope my readers are those people.

As always, I am extremely happy to welcome any questions you may have.

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Dear Pastor Jeffress (of First Baptist Dallas),

I’m just one of the millions of people who saw and heard on TV news shows your statements that “Mormonism is a cult” and “not a part of orthodox Christianity”. As a faithful lifelong member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints I felt a strong reaction to those statements, as you might imagine. My remarks here are only my personal thoughts, but I assure you they are heartfelt.

My reaction was twofold. First, I saw your remarks as an unfortunate “below-the-belt” swipe at Mitt Romney in the hopes of advancing your own favorite political candidate. While you certainly have the right to do that, I think many Americans join me in feeling that such a move was beneath a prominent religious leader such as yourself.

Second, as a devoted believer and follower of Jesus Christ I was saddened that you felt the need to speak out against my faith and beliefs. I’m sure there are those who think it was done with malice, but I’ll try to do the Christ-like thing and give you the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps you’ve just been misinformed about “Mormonism” as many others have been.

But it might surprise you to learn that I actually agree with part of what you said, although perhaps for different reasons than you might imagine.

You said that Mitt Romney is “not a Christian” (and by association myself and the other six million-plus Americans who are Latter-day Saints). But I believe you need to be more specific. There are many different kinds or “flavors” of Christians. I agree that the LDS people are not Baptist Christians or Evangelical Christians or Catholic Christians, etc. I will even agree that we’re not part of “orthodox” or “traditional” flavor of Christianity, if by that you mean the post-Nicene church that became the “universal” or “catholic” version of Christendom.

I believe my faith to be the original church of the Corinthians, the Ephesians, and yes, those who were first called Christians in Antioch, - that same church now restored in these latter days. So I call myself a “latter-day Christian", with theological roots that precede the “historical” or “orthodox” version that was the product of the various councils and creeds. That “orthodoxy” eventually became so corrupt and so apostate that the Reformers broke away from it in protest of its having “fallen away” from Biblical truths (2 Thess. 2) and “changed the ordinances” (Isa. 24:5) so that the “faith once delivered to the saints” (Jude 1:3) was no longer recognizable as the church that Jesus organized.

There were many enlightened Christian thinkers and theologians in history who, like Joseph Smith, believed that Christianity had become apostate and that a restoration of the New Testament church of Christ was necessary. John Wesley the founder of Methodism wrote:
It does not appear that these extraordinary gifts of the Holy Ghost were common in the Church for more than two or three centuries. We seldom hear of them after that fatal period when the Emperor Constantine called himself a Christian; . . . From this time they almost totally ceased; . . . The Christians had no more of the Spirit of Christ than the other Heathens . . . . This was the real cause why the extraordinary gifts of the Holy Ghost were no longer to be found in the Christian Church; because the Christians were turned Heathens again, and had only a dead form left.
The Works of John Wesley, vol. 7, pp.26-27

As I’m sure you well know, John Smythe the founder of the Baptists first left his position as a Church of England minister and joined the Separatists, but then dissolved his congregation to re-form it as the first General Baptist church among English expatriates in Amsterdam in 1609. He felt that the “historic” or “orthodox” Christianity of his time had wandered astray, especially with regard to the apostate doctrine of infant baptism. Those first Baptists were considered a “cult” by many Protestants in the “traditional” Christian denominations that persecuted them unmercifully.

Around 1640, Roger Williams of Providence, Rhode Island, founder of the first Baptist church in America refused to continue as pastor on the grounds that there was:

… no regularly‑constituted church on earth, nor any person authorized to administer any Church ordinance: nor could there be until new apostles are sent by the great Head of the Church, for whose coming, I am seeking.
(Picturesque America, or the Land We Live In, ed. William Cullen Bryant, New York: D. Appleton and Co., 1872, vol. 1, p. 502.)

If I understand your words correctly your definition of a Christian (and that of most Evangelicals) is a pretty narrow one, far different from the standard meaning found in most dictionaries. Personally I think anyone who accepts Jesus Christ as the Only Begotten Son of God and as his/her personal Savior who died for our sins and was bodily resurrected on the third day is a Christian. C.S. Lewis described such people as “mere” Christians.

But your narrow definition would exclude anyone who:
1. Does not believe in a closed canon of the 66 books of the Protestant Bible.
2. Does not accept the Nicene Creed as an accurate description of the nature of God the Father, His Son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost.
3. Believes in living prophets and apostles as the “foundation” of Christ’s earthly church.
4. Believes in continuing revelation from God to man.

I could go on. I’m very familiar with the standard arguments against “Mormonism”.

But the Bible says that believers in Christ were first called Christians at Antioch (Acts 11:26). I would respectfully submit that those Christians:
1. Did not believe in a closed canon of scripture. (some of the New Testament had not yet been written.)
2. Did not accept the Nicene Creed as an accurate description of the nature of God the Father, His Son Jesus Christ, and the Holy Ghost. (it would not be written for 300 years)
3. Believed in living apostles and prophets as the “foundation” of Christ’s earthly church.
4. Believed in continuing revelation from God to man.

So if you’re going to say that Mitt and I are not Christians based on those reasons, you’ll have to say that the believers in Antioch were not Christians either according to your definition.

You said in your Hardball interview that “Mormonism” is a “cult” because:
1. “Mormonism came 1800 years after Jesus Christ”
2. “Mormonism has its own human leader, Joseph Smith”
3. “it has its own set of doctrines”
4. “it has its own religious book, The Book of Mormon, in addition to the Bible”

Your exact following words were: “and so by that definition it is a theological cult”. You made a weak distinction between a theological cult and a sociological one, but most people will not even notice that fine differentiation. It was obvious to any sophisticated viewer that your main goal was to keep repeating the word “cult”. It’s such an inflammatory buzz word that I’m sure your goal is to use it as often as you can to scare people away from “Mormonism” without seriously considering our theology and our beliefs. It’s a word used to end or avoid discussion, not to foster it. As a Latter-day Saint I welcome the opportunity to “stand ready to give a reason for the faith that is in me”, but those who sling around the word “cult” with respect to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints seek to cut off debate rather than to encourage dialog. It’s as though they are afraid of an open and honest discussion.

But following your own definition of “cult” for a moment, I’d like to respectfully submit that:
1. Roman Catholicism came 300 years after Jesus Christ.
2. Roman Catholicism has its own human leader, the Pope (or Peter if you accept the Catholic claims that he was the first Pope)
3. Roman Catholicism has its own set of doctrines (Mariology, transubstantiation, priestly celibacy, veneration of “saints”, indulgences, etc.)
4. Roman Catholicism has its own religious books (9 deuterocanonical more than those found in the Protestant Bible – also used in Eastern Orthodox churches)

And even your own Baptist flavor of Christianity in some ways fits your definition of what makes a cult;
1. “Baptistism” came 1609 years after Jesus Christ
2. “Baptistism” had its own human leader John Smythe – a Church of England minister (see footnote below from the website of the Baptist History and Heritage Society)
3. “Baptistism” had its own unique doctrines, including the “believer’s baptism” of adults.
4. “Baptistism” was considered a cult by the “orthodox” or “traditional” or “historic” Christian denominations of the time. In fact Baptists suffered severe persecution from other Christians who believed in the “mainline” doctrine of infant baptism prevalent in that era. Thousands of Baptists were martyred for baptizing adults.

One of the dictionary definitions of a cult is that is a small isolated group that is out of the mainstream. That certainly does not apply to my church. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the fourth largest religion in America, and the second largest Christian church in Washington, Oregon, and California (after Catholicism). You mentioned that there are 15 million Southern Baptists. By 2012 at the present rate of growth there will be more Latter-day Saints than that.

Pastor Jeffress, in order to be consistent and truthful you would have to admit that the same definition you’ve used to brand “Mormonism” a cult applies at least in part to Roman Catholicism and “Baptistism” as well. Are you willing to say that on national television? I would hope so. I would hope that you’d want to be totally consistent and truthful.

Thank you for your time. I’m attaching a summary I wrote of what I believe happened to “the faith once delivered to the saints”. There was a great apostacy that fundamentally changed the New Testament church of Jesus Christ into something so different that those Christians at Antioch or Peter or Paul would not have recognized it in the Dark Ages that came upon the earth. (Amos 8:12) That apostacy required the “restitution of all things” prophesied in Acts 3:21 to occur before Christ’s return. That restitution or restoration of original Biblical Christianity was what was looked forward to by Roger Williams.

I testify to you that that restoration has come, and the original Christianity is back on the earth in its fullness as The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. If you would like to investigate these claims I’ll be happy to “bring forth my strong reasons” for “the faith that is in me.” I would welcome a thoughtful dialog.

Cordially yours,

Robert Starling
A Latter-day Christian

(footnote to above reference to John Smyth)
BHHS -- Baptist Beginnings http://www.baptisthistory.org/baptistbeginnings.htm

The first General Baptist church, led by John Smyth, was founded in Amsterdam, Holland, in 1608/09. Its members were English refugees who had fled England to escape religious persecution. John Smyth was a minister in the Church of England. As a student and later as a pastor and teacher. … By 1608/09, Smyth was convinced his Separatist church was not valid. Most of the members had only infant baptism, and the church was formed on the basis of a "covenant," rather than a confession of faith in Christ. Smyth therefore led the church to disband in 1608/09 and re-form on a new basis–a personal confession of faith in Christ, followed by believer’s baptism. Since none of the members had been baptized as believers, Smyth had to make a new beginning. He baptized himself and then baptized the others. His baptism was by sprinkling or pouring, but it was for believers only.

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Leave it to the children- Sunday Epiphanies:Prayer. Thankfulness project, Day 6

Thankfulness Project Day 6

November 6th, 2011, Sunday

I'm so thankful that I am not a perfect parent. If I were a perfect parent, I daresay that my children would not be nearly as cool as they are- because THEY would be perfect. And nothing particularly hilarious would happen, because, being perfect, I would have perfect insight. Since most hilarity that happens around here is a direct result of something that went wrong. If I had perfect insight, I would have fixed imperfections before they went wrong in the first place. In addition to that, my children, being perfect children, would not have nearly as many misunderstandings - and misunderstandings are the direct cause of most of their precious Kid-isms Furthermore, if I were a perfect mother, whenever my kids biffed it, ate crayons, got stuck, or otherwise provided excellent slapstick comedy, I would not be able to laugh because perfect parents run to their child's side to dry tears and kiss owies. They don't giggle behind their hand as soon as they see the child isn't REALLY hurt, or run to grab the camera. As a result, I have independent, tough kids, and our family laughs a lot. I love to laugh. I'm thankful my kids love to laugh too.

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Sometimes it can be difficult to keep things private when you belong to a church group that is particularly close.....or gossipy.

Difficult, yes. But surely impossible if you have children old enough to speak.

Last week at church, the topic in primary was "prayer"

Now, three of my 4 children are in primary now, and they're not shy about raising their hands to answer questions. Since my kids make up about 10% of the junior primary's build, you can imagine that every Sunday, they each get called on at least once. I also am in the primary as I teach the 7-8 year olds.

A few weeks ago, I came out HERE and told everyone what I've been trying to suffer silently through for the last 6 months: We're dirt poor, and Brandon was under employed. things are hard. We had no money. We were living on the church welfare system, along with half the Mormons in Utah- which comforts me a bit because I feel like I'm not the only one having issues, and you know, misery loves company- as well as harrows up my heart. It's a horrible thing to live through, and when I see moms of babies younger than mine, with kids towed along with them, knowing that they're suffering as bad if not worse, well, I wish I would show up and see an empty storehouse so that I could rest assured that no one needed it because they were all doing just fine.

Well, for 6 months, in our family prayers, we have prayed for Brandon to find a better job, or another job, or get a promotion, or SOMETHING, so that we could help others instead of being the ones who need help. Usually, those prayers spilled over into the kids' personal prayers too.

Last week at church, Lilly was called to say the opening prayer. Usually, she's really good at keeping her prayers in context- you know, at home she says certain things, at meals she blesses the food, and at church, she asks for the spirit to be with us or to bless those who couldn't be there. That day, though, her train of thought derailed, and she slipped in, "Heavenly Father, please help my daddy to find a better job so that he can support our family, and so that we can help other people..."

I bit my lip. Primary is full of kids, and around 8 adults at any given time. I hoped they hadn't been paying too much attention. As it so happens, I share a class with another woman in my ward. She's awesome, and I love her very much. She's become a dear friend of mine, but it also happens that she's my visiting teacher, so, per the ward line of communication, she knows, in full, our situation. She looked at me with a smirk on her face, and whispered "Don't-cha just love it when your kids just blab everything all over for everyone to know?" I shook my head and sighed.

And then, things really got going.

As I mentioned earlier, the topic of the day was prayer. When the primary president asked "What kinds of things can you pray for?" my little Mahone raised his hand, and, of course, was called on to answer.

"You can pray for money if you don't have any." His eyes were wide, and he nodded matter of factly. I mentally crossed my fingers, hoping that was all he'd say. After all, it was a true enough answer, but was not terribly incriminating....unless everyone had been listening to Lilly's prayer. Alas, he added "Lilly and I don't have any. Nope!" - the best part was, it was just as matter of fact as his first comment. No hint of despair, no smidgeon of "wo is me" or even feeling sorry for himself. It was just what it was.

My friend eyed me carefully.

Lilly then raised her hand, and I put my hand over my eyes as though I had a headache. "We can pray for our dads to get better jobs!" She said it cheerily with a bright smile across her face...and then she flipped her hair over her shoulder.

So, now, I'm pretty sure the whole ward knows what's up.

The lucky thing? I actually learned something. My kids have faith. I have been struggling with my faith (note: I said FAITH, not belief or religion) for 6 months now, crying out in the dark "Where are You?! Why are my prayers not being answered when I am doing all I can do?!" I struggle. I worry. I am impatient and imperfect. I am ashamed of the situation, and keep it hidden. But my children are faithful. They are long suffering. They have no secrets. They are patient and happy and that happiness doesn't rely one whit on money. I need to humble myself and become like a little child- meek and teachable. And steadfast.

They know that Heavenly Father will answer our prayers. Even if it takes awhile. All in God's time. Not mine.

I love them. They teach me daily.

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Last thing! (I KNOW! It's like the post that never ends!)

This is what I did this weekend:

MY coat- I finally made one for ME!!!!

A GORGEOUS striped tube scarf- super bohemian, very colorful, absolutely unique, and toasty warm!

Girls earth tone liripipe stocking hat.

Darling pixie hood. Isn't my girl just Beautiful?!

Boys OR Girls liripipe stocking hat.

Children's maxi coat. DARLING!!!!

To purchase any of these things (except for MY coat!) or to order your own custom made creation, please visit me at http://www.viciousupcycle.etsy.com

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Sometimes my brain takes the scenic route. (Sunday Epiphanies.)

I have NEVER been a simple thinker. It doesn't matter if the problem to be solved is a simple matter, for some reason, my brain makes it more difficult.

If I had 5 friends to pick up before a Halloween trip to a Haunted house, then the most complicated route is what I planned out. Not on purpose, you see. I'm just a complicated girl. I'm sure you understand, too, that math story problems were never my specialty.

In Moses, chapter 1, verse 33 and 35, it says:

33 And worlds without number have i created; and I also created them for mine own purpose; and by the Son I created them, which is mine Only Begotten.

35 But only an account of this earth, and the inhabitants thereof, give I unto you. For behold, there are many worlds that have passed away by the word of my power. And there are many that now stand, and innumerable are they unto man; but all things are numbered unto me, for they are mine and I know them.

Brae's translation: Worlds without number TO US!!!! God knows their number because they are all HIS. He knows them all! Which means he knows us each by name. We are all important to him.

Back when I was a child, I used to lay out on my trampoline in the middle of the night and stare up at the black, black night, and the stars dashed across it like glitter across dark paper. I would close my eyes and try to imagine all the worlds that God had created. All my distant cousins on other planets, other worlds, and all the infinite people here on this planet, and then the infinite atonement that Christ paid for every single one of us. One might think that would become overwhelming to imagine. Gradually, though, my mind would subtract all those vast things one by one, until I was trying to imagine nothing. I was trying to imagine nothing as a solid entity. Something that would be there should God NOT have created us. If there was no God. Would it be black and dark and silent? Or would it be white and ringing with the piercing sound only silence makes? In the instant I could conceive it's possibility, my chest would rise and fall quicker with my breath, and my eyes would snap open to be sure that the diamond stars still twinkled above me.

The fact that the possibility of infinite numbers could not overwhelm my senses, but trying to imagine vast emptiness made me panic is proof that nothing is ever simple for me.

Sometimes, my brain takes the scenic route.

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Consider the Lilies.

Every October (and every April), worldwide, the members of the LDS church gather, watch on television, and listen on the radio, on the Internet, employing all manner of media to listen to our living Prophet and the Apostles and other leaders of our church speak to us the words that Christ would deliver should he stand at the pulpit himself.

Today is such a day.

Often, my spirit is harrowed up by the words our leaders speak. Many times, I realize my need to repent and to change because their words have struck a chord that was not in harmony with my spirit. And so I need to tune it to be in harmony with their council. I'm usually annoyed, then, by the people who talk about how comforting the talks were, and how their spirits were uplifted. Yes, it does say something about me, that I am not able to be comforted. Either those other souls are on the right track and doing wonderfully with their spiritual progression, or they didn't 'get' it. If I were a good soul, I would rejoice that they were doing wonderfully. Sometimes, I just bitterly think they must be ignorant.

Spiritual comfort is something I find difficult to come by, though, in any sense.

When my parents were found unconscious because of carbon monoxide poisoning and when Scarlet pulled a television onto her face, I was wracked with worry and terror while everyone around me felt comforted by the spirit, feeling assured that things would be alright. When I am having life difficulties, I rarely find comfort from them within my soul, knowing that eventually things will be okay.

My husband has been under employed since May.

That's really hard to admit. He has applied to job after job, rocked interview after interview, and been rejected again and again. I'm not sure who they are finding better than he is, but apparently, everyone is. I could go on and on about how wonderful he is, how professional, how dedicated, how he would be an asset to any company, and it would all be true- not just some wife bragging about her husband who isn't really as great as she thinks. He really IS that great. But I won't because it won't do any good, and I have a further point to make.

I am very thankful for our church. I am thankful for the internal welfare system within the church, and for our bishop and our ward. Without them, we would be broken and lost. We don't make quite half of what we need to make in order to provide for our family. And it isn't for lack of trying. It's not for laziness.

And I feel absolutely panic stricken.

Over the summer, it was not difficult to imagine financial capability before the holidays. If it wasn't one job, it was sure to be the next one. Or the next. Or the next. And now, we look at 12 weeks until Christmas and I have nothing to give my children.

On a more troubling note, I have nothing with which to buy my children winter clothes or shoes. They have coats from last year that will fit this year. I can hand Mahone's snow boots down to Scarlet, but Mahone can't wear Lilly's- pink with gray fur. There is nothing to hand down to Teague, as when Mahone was Teague's size, it was summer time. My children need things to keep them warm this winter.

Recently, deep in the night, I was wakened from sleep with worry in my heart. I lay staring at my ceiling, Brandon breathing deeply next to me, and a desperate prayer in my heart. "How will I take care of them? When will I be able to get them things to keep them warm? Will they have to wear the crocs they've worn all summer through the snow and slush? Surely their little feet would not stay warm that way.

I cried myself to sleep, feeling restless, exhausted, worn out and hopeless.

In those moments between waking and sleeping, I heard the words: "Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; They toil not, neither do they spin."

This is not a scripture I had memorized. I DID recognize the beginning, "consider the lilies" because of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir, and the fact that they sing a song about it nearly every single conference. In the morning I looked it up:

Matthew 6:28 - "And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin."

In honesty, I was shocked. A little spooked. But in a good way, not a scary way.

I have since been able to pass all of Mahone's clothes down to Scarlet, and truth be told, it all looks darling on her. Someone at work brought several bags of clothes to work because she has two girls and was discarding their old clothes. She knew Brandon had children, and told him he could have the clothes. In them were dozens of cute, girly shirts and dresses that fit my girls. Shortly after that, Brandon's aunt brought over a bunch of clothes her 8 year old son has outgrown. I now have pants that fit both Lilly and Mahone. I still don't have anything for Teague, and I am not really, in much of a sense, very comforted.

It isn't comfortable, no matter how you look at it, no matter how many tender mercies you receive, to be living on the welfare of others. We are still looking for a new job that will pay adequately. We are still hoping that someone will give us a break. Christmas is coming, and I don't know where I'll get the gifts for my children.

In all my distress, in all my panic attacks, in all my uncertainty, it doesn't pay to give up. Giving up and being bitter will not make something click that will allow my husband to secure a job. Giving up will not make things better. But hanging on just might.

Peace may only come a moment at a time. But I once heard a line that makes a lot of sense to me: "Everything is okay in the end. If it's not okay, it's not the end."

True words, my friends.