the adventures (& mishaps!) of one lucky gal

Friday, October 5, 2012

"We're sorry we can't come to the phone right now..."

This weekend my family and I will be unavailable for activities or phone calls on both Saturday and Sunday, from 10 a.m. to Noon, and 2 p.m. to 4 p.m. During those 8 precious hours, we will be eagerly listening to prayerfully-prepared words of wisdom delivered to us from the mouths of the Lord's servants here on the earth.

There was a brief period of time after I graduated from high school that I wasn't making the best choices in my life. And, like many teenagers, I began to question some of the doctrine and principles of the religion in which I'd been raised. And yet I could not fully separate myself from it, because there was one thing that I knew I absolutely could not, and would not, deny: that the President of the Church truly was a man of God, and that the men who serve with him, the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, truly were men of God also, set apart and devoted to further His work on the earth. I could not see these men - whether in person (as living and working where I did at the time, I occasionally I would have the pleasure of bumping into one of them), or on a television broadcast, without feeling overwhelming love and an increase of the Spirit. I know that was the Lord's way of saying, "Hold on. Don't give up. The answers will come." And they did. Because I was able to cling to my faith in a modern-day prophet, in time my faith was restored in other doctrines and principles as well. Now I can say that I do not question the gospel of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I do not fully understand every little detail of it, but that doesn't bother me. I don't expect to be an expert on it until well after this life is over! I am comforted that I understand all that I need to know at this point in time and that if I continue faithful on the right path, more knowledge, enlightenment, and comprehension will come as I'm prepared for it.

Some say Divine Revelation is an ancient tradition, and no longer applicable to us in these modern days. My heart (and my mind) tell me this is not so. Why would a loving Father in Heaven only speak to His children from days past? I tell you that the hand of the Lord is in our lives today and that He speaks to us - through prayer and personal revelation, scriptures, even beautiful sacred music, and most He definitely continues to speak to us through Prophets and Apostles, just as was done in ancient times. Our God is unchanging and unwavering, and for the great blessing of modern-day leadership, directed by Jesus Christ, I am so very, very grateful!

Friday, August 10, 2012

more than just sticks and mud

Something significant happened at our house last week.

A night of furious winds knocked a small nest out of a tree in the front yard.

All that remains is a messy pile of leftover mud and sticks.

This wasn't the first blustery night the nest had endured, as it had been there for over a year. My only guess is that it's perch in the tree had weakened because it had been vacant since spring and thus not been reinforced.

When the nest's occupants were there, you could see the mother bird flying back-and-forth, back-and-forth, collecting twigs, grass, and mud to strengthen her home. These two pictures above were taken last July. You can see the baby bird's beak reaching up above the nest. It was such a delight to hear their little chirps, begging for food. When we took these photos, the mother was very still and you could tell she was on alert. She was wary of us and what we were doing so close to her home. I'm sure if we'd tried to cross that sacred threshold in an attempt for a closer look or to touch the birds we would have seen a fearsome side of her!

I picked the abandoned nest from the ground but something inside of me couldn't throw it away. I felt like I was holding something almost sacred. As I examined the craftsmanship from one of God's beautiful creatures, I was in awe of all the effort this mother bird had put into creating a place of refuge for her young. How does a creature void of reason present such evidence of intelligence, design, and responsibility? I imagine her decisively scavaging for just the right materials. I can see in my mind's eye how determined she is as she carefully weaves twigs and grass, even the occasional treasured find of twine or yarn. Holding it all together is a mortar she has made with mud and saliva. She takes it step further, adding insulation to her work of art with feathers and more grass.

As she consciously selected her materials, I'm sure it must have taken time to find what she knew would best strengthen her nest. Was she tempted to pick up the first twigs that she saw or was she enough aware of her purpose that she knew she must be particular? Were twigs that at first glance seemed good enough but upon further examination discovered they would not benefit or fortify the kind of home she desired to build?

Parenting humans is not so different than mothering baby birds, I've decided. We're working towards establishing a home of refuge and peace. We yearn to create a place where our children feel confidence, acceptance, and love. We desire to instill within them the knowledge that HOME is a tool they can use to progress in their goals, to achieve success. So what kind of home are we building? Unlike birds, we are creatures of reason (and opposable thumbs!). Are we building our home with a focus? To what end is our purpose? Are we consciously weaving our refuge with materials that strengthen, fortify, and move us forward? What kind of branches are we using as a foundation - are they strong, sturdy, sheltered from the elements?

I'm reminded of a story I read online about a woman who delighted in a nest a bird had built in a tree just outside her door. She checked on it often and one morning she saw four eggs had appeared sometime that week. Eventually she heard the sweet sound of chirping baby birds. Robin Van Wagenen, the author, continued her story:

"As time passed the chirping subsided, so I decided to check on things. My heart sank when I realized tragedy had struck. The danger had come not from without - but from within. Two of the four young birds had grown up and flown away, but the other two had died, tangled by their feet in some plastic strands in th enest. They had struggled to pull themselves free but could not do so.

I realized what went wrong. When th emother bird had built her home, she used the usual twigs, branches, grass, and reeds. But she had also been attracted to some colorful plastic strands that she wove throughout the nest. They looked similar to natural materials, but they were a little flashier, a bit more shimmery. They were not the same, however. The plastic had no give, and when the two remaining baby birds had tried to get free, the articifial materials only pulled tighter."

The world assaults us daily with claims of bigger, better, newer. The need to keep-up-with-the-Joneses and the mentality that we just "have to have it" in order to function and survive pushes us to place materal wants ahead of family necessities, financial peace, and even our time. We're pushed not just towards products and distractions, but ways of thinking and standards of living. Traditional standards, regardless that they come from scripture and a God that is unchanging, are considered "outdated" and old-fashioned. All these things are presented in pretty boxes wrapped with shiny ribbon and bows. How often do we let ourselves be drawn to the glitter and shimmer, tempted to weave them into our nest? On the surface they seem harmless, but in the end will those be what restricts and holds us back? Will they latch onto us and weaken our minds and resolve?

Holding this beautifully-woven structure in my hand, I recommit to a new awareness of what I am using to construct my own family's refuge. I want my every-day-decisions to be focused on strengthening our family unit, creating a home of peace and confidence, and inspiring us to reach our divine potential. I'm motivated to make a more conscious effort to weave into our lives strands of courage, forgiveness, hard work, humor, testimony, and love. Something that will withstand the gusts and blows life throws at us and insulate us from the elements of conformity and judgment that comes from those who find us old-fashioned and misunderstood. I've a desire to be more selective about the things we bring into our home and ultimately into our hearts.

Each day I want to wake up and ask myself,

WHAT WILL I DO TO
STRENGTHEN OUR NEST TODAY?

Monday, July 30, 2012

What do you get when you combine Iron Chef, Sack Races, Board Games, and a Broken Window?

THE KREMIN CAMPOUT!

These pictures are horribly out of order (for example we have some "going home" pictures stuck in the middle of the campout pictures) but I can't seem to fix it, so...THERE YA GO.

As always we had a blast at the Kremin Kampout!

The weather was perfect and there was a near-constant breeze that made you feel relaxed and comfortable!

Since the Olympics were starting in a week,

we had our own "Kid Olympics" and opening ceremony!

Balancing on logs is harder than it looks!

Poor baby got a big, nasty sliver in his palm helping

Eric take down his tent. Yowsa!

* * * * *

The ride home was unfortunately very eventful. Just west of Duchesne (shortly after driving over Starvation's bridge) we passed a big rig carrying a wide load to the oil fields and it must have flipped up a rock because I heard a loud crash, only to discover the sliding door window had broken.

It was next to the seat Halle was occupying. Although she had glass in her lap, we feel so blessed that she and her sister were protected - no glass flew into their faces. It shook both me and Halle up a bit, but gratefully everyone was okay and we only had the window to worry about.

We were also fortunate that we had driven two vehicles out. John and Dixie had graciously loaned us their truck and camper. Brett and all the kids could fit in it just fine, so I drove the van back with the open window and the rest of the gang got to have a fun ride in Grandpa John's beautiful big truck!

Shortly after I had pulled over a Highway Patrol trooper stopped to see if we were alright. He said with all the equipment going out to the oil field, instances like these are very common. He was very concerned about what we were going to do with the kids, so in a moment of panic, we called Mom and Dad and asked them to meet us there in Duchesne. At that point we had not thought things through fully - I think we were going along the lines of just going back to Vernal for the night. But once they got there and we'd had time to mull our choices over we decided it would be best to just continue on towards home. I felt so badly they had put forth the effort to come all that way, especially when I knew they were exhausted and trying to clean up their own camp mess. We ended up just having some dinner with them at the park by Duchesne High School then each going to our own homes. Poor Mom and Dad, coming at our very beckoning whim when it ended up being totally unnecessary. They couldn't have been nicer about it, though.

* * * * *

Ruby was filthy - hair full of dark dirt and sticky tree sap.

A visit to the "beauty parlor" got her looking pretty again as soon as we were home!

This was my view the ride out and back. John & Dixie have a beautiful, wonderful camper on the back of their truck. It was so fun to use and very, very comfortable. Thanks, Mom & Dad!

I love the view as you climb this hill right before the Red Cloud Loop turnoff.

Oh how I love our Vernal mountains!

Naturally, we competed in Iron Chef. This year's theme was "Sweet Shoppe" and boy did we stuff our faces! Team Spudnut may have won, but it was completely through cheating. Who can compete with anything FRIED covered with powdered sugar or chocolate?! Enjoy it, Eric - you'll fall off your Fry Daddy pedestal next summer!!!!!! Bwa-ha-ha-ha!!!!!

I made a total pig of myself with these cream cheese sopapillas - delicious, Laurie!

Nickole brought face paint and it was a big hit each day with these super heroes!

"Family Pictures" - We had to use a stand-in for our missing sister, Faith...our stand-in may have been 9 months pregnant, but in every other way bore a close resemblance to the absent ditder!