8 Things that 2016 Taught Me

This morning I sat on my recumbent bike, my feet turning at roughly the speed of "I'm not getting anywhere fast today." Ironically, I wasn't going anywhere anyway. I never do during my morning ride. Unless, of course, spinning my mind and my feet at an equivocal pace whilst never leaving my basement can be considered going somewhere... in which case, I went a whole lot of somewhere today.

What started as a mental check list - you know, the GOAL list that is requisite with the new year - quickly turned into some self-banter about all that 2016 brought with it. As if flipping through the pages of a magazine, the events that shaped my 2016 rolled out easier than the calories I'd been hoping to burn.

And so, today I present a list of THE THINGS 2016 TAUGHT ME: 

1. Quality of life has nothing to do with the size of your paycheck. - This was hand's down the biggest lesson of our year. We - meaning my hubby - made a job change  that flipped our world upside down. His paycheck increased a bit, but his hours doubled. Family time became non-existent, as did sleep, meals, and vacations. Everyone's stress level escalated. We all felt it. None of us liked it.  - Gratefully his old employer offered him a very nice opportunity to come back. It was almost a no brainer. We took the offer and reclaimed our sanity!

2. I am not a superhuman. -  It's something I've suspected for some time, but this summer - specifically the "Garden Cottage" project - was the final proof that I needed. (What is this Garden Cottage, you ask? Check it out here.) Resourceful and determined as I may be, it proved to be physically impossible for a 5'5 1/2" girl to handle 4' x 8' sheets of plywood on her own. And let's not even talk about the Hardie Board... or the roofing... or the climbing up the ladder. 

3. I am braver than I thought. - Or stupid. Probably just stupid. Let's face it, ladders and I are not friends. 

Safety at it's finest. 

4. Letting people help you is NOT a sign of weakness. - Yeah, this lesson came on hard and fast as a result of the "Pinky incident." (If you haven't had a chance to check out those picts, you owe yourself a favor! :0) One wouldn't think a silly little pinky finger would render you helpless, but it did. For about six weeks post op, that whole hand was pretty worthless. I'm 12 weeks out now and finally pretty much back to normal. Well, except for that hunch backed knuckle. Oh, and the fact that the whole finger does its own thing. And then there's the fact that the upper knuckle doesn't bend. So, yeah. Good(ish) as new.

$11k and 12 weeks later, I have a tea-time pinky.

5. Breathe. - Sometimes life doesn't go as planned. And sometimes it goes way worse than you can imagine. Like when your hubby's passport comes up missing... on Christmas day... and you're headed to Cancun with the family the next morning. But, really, what can you do but breathe? (And pray. And be grateful those prayers are answered and he arrives just one day late!)

The so-sad empty seat when your hubby doesn't make the flight. 

6. Spontaneity is, indeed, part of my vocabulary. - Don't laugh. It's true. I can fly by the seat of my pants. Sometimes. For real. I promise it happened... In the form of a last minute, unplanned car purchase... from the auction. Sight unseen. And, after a day of panic about my crazy spurt, and a six hour drive to pick it up, I was finally able to breathe. I did good. Maybe I should try spontaneous more often.

7. The selfie and I will probably never be one with each other. - And, it's okay. I prefer to be goofy anyway.

8. Live. Laugh. Love. - Yeah, cliche, I know. But really. This is legit. Cherish people. Don't give in to drama. Life's too short to carry baggage.

But it's Just a Little Sand... What a little hike taught me about life.

There is a beauty in nature that no human - regardless of his/her skill set or talents - can mimic or recreate. It is this beauty, coupled with the promise of adventure, that make us an outdoor kind of family. Whenever the opportunity presents itself, you will find us choosing fresh air and sunshine over pretty much any other activity. 

Needless to say, with so much experience and exposure, we are familiar with nature and very comfortable in many different terrains. Even so, every time we venture out, we needfully prepare for obstacles and challenges that might come our way. 

On a recent outing, we packed plenty of water, snacks, a whistle, rope, and a small first aid kit into our packs and headed to one of our favorite corners of the world. Though familiar with the area, we were going to hike a new trail, so before we left, we took time to familiarize ourselves with the map and made sure we had a functioning GPS. 

With our supplies in our pack and my camera charged and ready, we started on our journey, full of hope and wonder at what we might find on our way. 

Not far up the trail, the path turned very sandy. The sand was soft and fun to walk in. Our feet slid around a little and we all shared some laughs about it. Sure, a little sand got in our shoes, but not enough to be bothersome or to slow down our pace. 

As the ascent continued, so did the sand. I chose not to be overly bothered by it and simply adjusted my stride to accommodate. And, as one might expect, with each sinking step, my shoes filled more and more. 

Several minutes passed and the sand in my shoes settled into the tip of my sock. It felt a bit like "sand pillows" under my toes. Soft. Squishy even. But still not bothersome enough to stop our progress so I could do a clean out. I simply adjusted my stride and kept moving. 

Eventually, however, the nuance of the sand pillows started to become a nuisance. It wiggled away from my toes and began to rub at the side of my foot. Irritating. Chaffing. But, I reasoned, it'd be pointless to stop and clean it out, because surely around the next corner, there is going to be another sand hill and my shoes will just get full again. 

So, I ignored the problem and just kept hiking.

By the time I made it back to the bottom of the trailhead, my shoes and socks were completely loaded down with sand. And, my feet were sore.

With great relief, I slid my tired feet out of my shoes, grateful to at long last be free from the irritation, but perhaps too late to avoid some long term effects. 

- Like the sand in my shoes, we often have little things in our life that at first don't seem to be a big deal. Sometimes, in fact, they may seem to be amusing or entertaining. But, after long periods of dragging those little grits along with us, they can build. And, as they build, they start to move "deeper" into our soul. Because of the Savior's Atonement, we are free to stop at any time to dump that sand out and start fresh. So, why don't we? Why do feel like we need to carry that sand all the way to the end of the trail?

As with me on the mountain, I simply didn't want stop because it seemed unnecessary and even pointless. As soon as I'd clean them, my shoes would surely fill up again, so why bother? 

Part of human nature tells us that it's pointless to try to be better because, surely around the next corner, we will mess up again. But, we know that our Savior has provided a way for us to be clean - not just one time, but as many times as we need it. Just as there is no reason to walk around with sand in our shoes, there is no reason to carry around our burdens, our sins, our frustrations, our shortcomings, or our heartaches. We don't need to reach the end of the trail, chaffed and sore. He has provided a way for us to be clean, if only we will take the time.

A Moment of Clarity

It was dark and cold when I slid into the driver's seat with a million thoughts rushing through my mind. The first thought, of course, was that I needed to get some toasty back into my frozen fingers. I popped my key into the ignition, gave it a turn, then reached for the heater control. After cranking it up to it's highest setting, I realized that there was a quiet in my car that I wasn't used to. A quick glance at the dash confirmed that, indeed, my stereo was powered off. 

 Wierd, I thought, before remembering that I'd turned it off to make a call before exiting my car some four hours earlier. Intent to remedy the situation, I reached for the power button before having the very distinct - and uncharacteristic - thought to leave it off. 

No music in the car? The very idea was baffling. I love music. And my car is the only stage from which I can sing (ok, and the kitchen, but I wasn't in the kitchen, I was in the car!).

Reluctantly, I followed the feeling and began driving home with only my thoughts to keep me company. 

And that's when it happened. 

I had the most humbling, heart touching, moment of clarity that I've had in a very long time. It was as if the Lord stilled all the other crazy thoughts that continually cycle through my mind and gave me a brief window where I could focus on the one thing I needed to know... the one thing I've been searching for for several months. In that brief moment of clarity, I was shown the purpose behind what I'd been tasked to do and, even more than that, I was given the clarity on how to make it all come together. In that rare, quiet moment alone in my car, months of research and pondering, suddenly merged seamlessly into one, concise, specific idea. 

By the time I pulled into my driveway, droves of minions were wresting in my brain again, cramming my frontal lobe with more chaos than should be humanly possible. But even amongst the noise, my "moment" still lingered. 

And so it is, that in the coming days and weeks I will roll my plan into action. I will redefine my purpose, restate my motto, and move forward with the faith that I am headed in a fantastic direction. And, maybe, just maybe, I'll remember to keep seeking out more of those quiet moments. 

Imagine. Plan. Execute. Conquer!

Once upon a time, somebody accused me of being bull-headed. While I am many things, obstinate is not one of them (*cough) ... unless of course you consider the little project the "experts" told me was impossible. 

Then I'm just plain DETERMINED.

If someone tells you that something can't be done, do it anyway.

It all started a few years ago when we were plotting out how to finish our game room. I had a lot of ideas - some admittedly crazier than others. We played around with the idea of a 50's retro decor then decided that a mountain rustic theme better fit the plethora of family heirlooms (ie: cowboy hats, riding gloves, vintage photos, etc.)  that we wanted to display. And so, the building began. 

We started with a fireplace, but we didn't want it to eat up too much space, so we only made it poke out from the wall 17". Next we added a built in bench that, while providing seating, also nicely hides the concrete foundation lip that pokes out from the framed wall.  - Then, we called the "experts." 

Not one, but two. And they both told me the same thing. 

"Lady, there ain't no way we can build built ins like you want."  

They threw around excuses like, "cabinets don't come in 17" depths" and "there's no way to use the space over the bench. It's just dead space." 

Clearly, the cabinet "experts" don't know how to think out of their pre-fab boxes. (Pun intended!) So, I decided to do it myself. But, because I hate to start a project I can't finish, it got put off and for a couple of years, we've been left staring at the empty space. 

And then it happened. At Christmas the staring game just got old. I told that wall I was going to finish it once and for all. I took my trusty 17 year old daughter (who is a brilliant design consultant!) to the hardware store and we picked up all the supplies we needed. 

We started with 2 unfinished pre-fab cabinets and with the help of a skill saw, some wood glue, and a hammer, we modified them from their original 24" depth to a new, perfectly fitting, 16". 

Then we added some decorative trim pieces to give it a more custom look. And built counter tops to match the mantel.

And then came the hard part. We tore apart 3 old, weathered pallets and lined the back of the book shelves with the boards.

Added more trim up on top. (FYI - Crown molding is my arch nemesis!)

Then gave it a good coat of primer and paint and distressing.  Last came the hardware.

And then, the thing that was impossible, not only became possible, it became complete!

Was it easy? No, but it wasn't terribly difficult either. Lesson learned: DON'T EVER LET SOMEONE TELL YOU THAT YOUR DREAMS AREN'T ACHIEVABLE! If you believe enough in your ideas, you can make them realities. Don't give up. Ever. 

Imagine. Plan. Execute. Conquer! 

The cost of kindness

My girls and I had just come out of the grocery store when we noticed an elderly lady struggling to get her car to start. It was literally pouring buckets outside, so as I sat in the dryness of my car watching her, I really hoped that she would get the thing to start. 

No luck. Every time she turned the key, the whole car shook like it was possessed. As much as I didn't want to get soaked, I knew I couldn't leave her stranded in that parking lot. Now, you and I both know that my auto mechanic experience is pretty limited... I mean, lets face it, I don't know much beyond the basics! But, that didn't matter. I was determined to help however I could. 

I was pretty certain that it wasn't her battery, and when I approached her window and saw all the dash lights burning brightly, my suspicion was confirmed. There was a clicking sound that reminded me of when the starter when out on one of my vehicles...Yeah, not a whole lot I can do about that, but when I saw the broken expression on her face, I knew I had to do something, even if it only made her feel better. 

Immediately, I had the impression to ask her to pop her hood so I could try jumping her. Knowing it wasn't a battery problem, I felt silly making the suggestion, but I followed the prompting anyway. I told her to stay in the car and, as the rain soaked through my shirt, I hooked up the jumper cables then had "Awesome One" turn the key to my car. 

With the lady's car hood open I could see the entire engine block shake so bad it looked like it would jump right out of the frame. It was almost scary to be standing in front of it. Still not knowing what the problem was, I said a prayer in my heart as I scanned the shaking, non-compliant engine for an answer. Now, I don't know what a perfectly functioning engine should look like, but as I watched hers, I knew it was wrong. Three of the 4 spark plugs jiggled so loosely I don't know how they managed to stay in place. Again, I felt silly for hooking her up to my battery, but, as she cranked her key and pumped her gas, that little extra boost from my car seemed to make the difference.

After a few minutes her car roared - and when I say roared, I really mean ROARED! - to life. I counseled her to get to a shop asap, then closed her hood and sent her on her way. I don't know how much help I actually was, but in that crowded parking lot, I'm glad I took the time to try. Not a single other person seemed to notice her and, as I thought about my own grandma, it broke my heart. Many walked by, but only one took the time to help. 

Isn't that what this is all about? Not just the act of helping someone in the rain, but life in general: Helping Heavenly Father's children, even when we don't feel capable! This word, KINDNESS, has been on my mind almost constantly for the last several weeks. Kindness. Service.... Love. I look at the world and wonder how things got so off course. Ultimately, I've concluded, it boils down to a lack of kindness. Somehow selfishness has taken over and kindness has been kicked to the curb. Yeah, I know, kindness isn't always convenient  We're all busy, aren't we? Things to do, places to be. I get it. But is it really that hard to be kind? 

We've been working on it a lot around our house. This concept of not just recognizing other's needs but of actually stepping up to help each other. Acts of service - both silent and not-so-silent - have started to fill our walls. We are working on looking beyond our own wants and even beyond our needs and focusing more on what others might need... and, you know what? It's not a sacrifice at all. In fact, its been quite rewarding. 

Five Virtues of Successful Parenting

I'm asked from time to time when I'm going to write a book on parenting. After I finish laughing, I am humbled by the compliment. I suppose those queries are a testament to the great children whom I'm blessed to have in my home. I'm not sure the credit is mine or my husbands to take alone, but I am sure there are some keys - virtues if you will - that have helped us along the way: 

Patience - Patience, while being a virtue, is also a process. I use to think that I fared pretty good on the good ol' patience scale... Life has since proved me wrong! Regardless of the chapter you find yourself in, parenting can be the ultimate test of patience. And, it's not like your children purposely try to dance on your nerves... oh, who am I kidding? Yes, they sometimes do!! But most of the time, the knot-wrenching they cause is inadvertent and honestly innocent.  

Be patient. Bite your tongue. Breathe. The most valuable lesson I've learned as a parent is to pick my battles. Ask yourself if the supposed infraction is really that important. Is your child hurting himself or others? Is he causing damage to property? Or, is he simply exploring his world, learning its natural boundaries, and in the process, making a mess of your pristine home? Be reasonable, rational, and realistic with your expectations. Not only will your children benefit as you step back and relax, your physical wellness will thank you too.

Humility - I remember the first time I screwed up as a parent... Okay, probably not the first time, but the first blatantly obvious time. While we may not like to give breath to our weaknesses or our failures, lets admit it, we are not perfect. I don't care who you are, at some point you will take a wrong step in your parenting adventures. Painful as it may be to your pride, admitting your faults is not a sign of weakness. In fact, little words like "I'm sorry," or "Can you please help me?" are imperative to becoming a good parent. If you are unwilling to recognize your faults, how can you improve upon them? Successful parents are teachable parents. Learn to apologize when you fall - especially to your children! Be teachable and understanding. 

Pride - I'm not talking about the "puffed up" kind of pride that the Bible so importantly reminds us to avoid. Talents, success, beauty, and even smarts should not be the target of our affection. While it's important to recognize our children's strengths and abilities, it's also important that they know you are proud of them regardless of the trophies, honors, or accolades they receive. I've been in several situations where parent's play the "one-up" game using their children as their pawns. "My kid does x,y, and z..." "Oh yah, well my kid does a, b, c, and D!!" What if your child doesn't do x,y, z, a, b, c, or d? Does that make him/her an invalid person? What if Johnny doesn't play football but instead finds joy in serving others? What if Janey doesn't like to dance but loves to lose herself in books? 

My children may never earn a Pulitzer, a Heizman, or a Grammy, but that doesn't negate the fact that they are amazing people. Be proud of who they are, not what they can do. Thankfully we all come with our own personalities, talents, and interests. Our hobbies and interests may not be the same as our children's... and that's okay! At the end of the day, the potential size of your child's future paycheck or the number of trophies that adorn his/her wall are not important. Their ability to love and to feel love, however, is. Rather than trying to force your interests on your children, why not let them discover their own? Embrace their uniqueness and find pride in the gift of parenthood. All children - both yours and mine - have the potential to do much good in this world. Teach them to love and respect themselves and humanity, and you will always have cause to be proud.  

Humor - Laugh. Life's too precious and too short to be serious 100% of the time. Sure, there's a time and a place to be all buttoned up and serious, but there are also appropriate times to let loose and laugh! Find joy in your parenting journey. Fill your home with laughter. Children are delightful. Parenthood is tough, but it can also be fun! Play  with you kids. Kick back and enjoy a good belly jiggling, tear-invoking, snort-inducing laugh. 

Gratitude - Every night I hit my knees to thank my Heavenly Father for entrusting me with the care and nurture of His beautiful, valuable children. Parenthood is not an opportunity any of us should take lightly. As parents - and even grandparents, aunts, uncles, and friends - we have an obligation to teach, prepare, and ultimately love the little people in our lives. While most of my children are no longer technically "little people" (three of them are as big or bigger than me) they are still precious children of our Heavenly Father... and they will always be my babies! 

I know that there are certain phases of your child's progression where time may seem to drag by, but believe me when I tell you to cherish those moments. Nobody loves tripping over collections of baby dolls or having little legos brutally lodged into the sole of your foot, but be grateful for them, for that chapter of innocent chaos will close sooner than you expect. I know it's cliche to say so, but they really do grow up soooo fast. Diapers turn to playdates, then homework, then real dates and driving, and then.... sigh... 

Be grateful for each step of the journey. Be humble, teachable, patient, loving, and full of joy. Cherish every moment, create memories, and look forward to each amazing chapter! 

 

Sometimes the smallest things can mean the world to somebody

I had a little something happen the other day that keeps replaying through my mind.

I was at an event with a lot of colleagues, friends, and even some strangers. We'd enjoyed a nice dinner and a little program, then - as is the culture for events of this nature - many of the attendees stayed to help with the clean-up and take-down. In the process of my busyness, I noticed an older gentleman, whom I like to consider my friend, looking a little out of place. It wasn't that he didn't belong at the event, because he certainly did, but there seemed to be an emptiness in his eyes and a "lost" aura about him.

Knowing this gentleman and the troubles he's recently experienced, I offered to pack up some left over food for him to take home. He graciously accepted the offer and I went to work.

Before long, he'd joined me in the kitchen and we chatted as we put together enough food to feed him for nearly a week.Those who know me best will never believe this, but I didn't offer a lot to the conversation. I added small comments and the occasional understanding nod, but it was mostly him who spoke. I was content to listen.

As I handed him the freshly packaged food, moisture glistened from his eyes. And, as he wrapped his arms around me, I realized it wasn't the food he needed, it was simply a sympathetic listening ear.

It got me thinking - wondering, really - just how often I get so busy in my perceived "busyness" and fail to  recognize the "lonely" gentleman standing in my path. How often do I take the time to look around for those who might just be needing an open ear and a caring heart? Service really doesn't take a lot. Sometimes its a simple as a "Hi" and other times it means taking a whole day to help someone out, but in the end, even the most minuscule seeming service can fill your soul overflowing.

I hope I never forget just how much a small act of kindness could mean to someone.

MWF Seeks Less Adventurous Weekend

I woke up this morning with the words to Carrie Underwood's "Jesus Take the Wheel" rolling through my head. By the time you finish reading this post, I think you will understand why.

(Disclaimer: As a rule I make an effort to ensure that my posts are appropriate for every possible set of eyes that might stumble upon them; however, today's entry MAY NOT BE SUITABLE for MY MOTHER's eyes. Having said that, and because I know you [mom] just ignored my warning, I'd recommend you sit down and take a deep breath before proceeding....) 

(Disclaimer #2: This is a LONG post.... Sorry about that. I tried to keep it as short and sweet as possible, but there was so much to share. Hopefully its worth your time to make it to the end!) 

Before we left for our Labor Day weekend trip to Manti, Utah this past weekend my husband had a feeling not to go. Despite his hesitancy, we went anyway. About half way there his truck broke down. Usually we caravan, me pulling the "toys" (the boat, or in this case our 4 wheelers) and Ryan pulling the trailer. But on Friday I traveled ahead of him, expecting him to arrive about 20 minutes behind me... well, he didn't. 

"What more could possibly go wrong?" That's the phrase that kicked off our 2012 Labor Day Weekend. We threw a smile on our faces and moved on, thinking that since we'd hit our "low" at the beginning of our trip, things could only get better, right?... Wrong. Every time we turned around it seemed that a new challenge was thrown our way - Seven of them big enough to give me heart attacks, in fact.  Here's a brief recap:

1. The truck broke down.
2. We lost my husband - In a black t-shirt, in a mountain pass, after dark, alone.
3. The tow truck never showed up!
4. We lost my son!
5. My 4wheeler developed a dangerous "pull" at exactly the same time that my less-experienced driver of a daughter took the wheel... I mean, handlebars!
6. My husband & son crashed going down a steep, slippery grade on their 4wheeler.
7. I mamboed back and forth across the interstate with an out of control trailer.

So, there it is in a nutshell, my Seven Heart Attack weekend. It was literally one survival adventure after another and definitely more stress than I've ever packed into a weekend before. I suppose I could end this post right there and call it good, but honestly, the whole point in me sharing any of this was not to make you "ooh and aah" at my tough weekend, but to show that for every storm there is a rainbow. So, here's the "rainbow" to each of my storms:

1. The truck broke down. First thought: the turbo. Nice! (*Slice through that sarcasm*) I love spending $$$$$ I don't have! (*insert eye roll & more sarcasm*) Initial diagnosis: fuel pump. Bill just went down from thousands to hundreds...  Rainbow: Easy fix! Loose wire! Cost? Zero dollars.

2. Ryan somehow got a spotty connection that allowed him enough broken service to get me the message that he needed some help. Without batting an eye, our dear friends ran to the rescue, making the 45 minute drive to help him. However, when they arrived at the scene (well after the sun had set) my boys were alone in the truck & my husband was lost!! I hopped in the truck with two of our other friends - both UPD Sheriffs - and headed their direction.  Before we made it, however, we received word that he'd been found! (Clarification: he was lost to us, but he obviously knew where he was). He'd ventured out alone in search of phone service and had not returned. .. Rainbows: We have guardian angels in the form of friends who are genuinely happy to help us. My boys were safe. With the help of some kind passer-byers, Ryan was able to get a ride to clear cell reception and contact a tow-truck. And our friends were able to tow our trailer back to our campsite so we could get the kids settled while Ryan waited for the tow truck.

3. The tow-truck never showed up. One hour passed then another, yet no truck. Around 11 pm our son received a random text from a stranger telling him that "The tow truck hasn't shown. Your dad needs to be picked up." Ry had to leave his new truck "baby" squished on the shoulder of the twisty mountain road overnight. The rainbows?... Beyond the many kind people that stopped to offer help - including the ones who kindly texted our son - our friends stepped in again. By some twist of fate (or not!) some of our friends got a late start to their drive and were within 20 minutes of Ryan's location. We were able to make contact with them right before they got out of cell range and they were able to pick him up. The truck sat vulnerable as can be on that squishy shoulder throughout the night and was perfectly safe. At first light, Ryan and our dear friend towed it out of harms way and down to a shop. Double rainbow: another great friend drove his car trailer down from the Salt Lake area on Sunday night, picked up our truck, towed it back to his house, and had it repaired by Monday afternoon.

4. Saturday afternoon during our 4 wheeler ride, we stopped at a lake to relax. There were 10 vehicles in our group; 19 people total. There was much talk and laughter and even some (unsuccessful) fishing. When the time came to leave, we strapped on our helmets and straddled our machines before I realized that someone was missing. My 17 year old son had ventured away from the group and was LOST! (Yah... just what I needed... Another missing person!) As my daughter and I hiked back to the lake he was nowhere to be seen. I called his name. No response. I called louder. No response. We crested a hill and my eyes swept across the horizon. Nothing but water and weeds. I called again, ready to turn around and head another direction.... Out of the corner of my eye I caught of glimpse of neon green in the tall grass. I called his name again. Out of the grass popped his head, complete with a neon green bandanna. Music piped through his iPod and into his earbuds as he slept in the grass. The rainbow: Somehow, by some miracle, he thought he heard his name through his noise-cancelling earbuds and popped his eyes open just in time to see me waving at him. He shouldn't have been able to hear me through his earphones... but somehow he did. And, who see's a green bandanna in green grass?

5. After a long day of riding, I turned my 4 wheeler over to my 15 year old to drive and, almost immediately, it inexplicably died. We pushed it to the side of the road to look at it and after several attempts, we got it started again. Ryan decided he'd drive it to see if he could figure out what had gone wrong.... His discovery: nothing mechanical, but it was pulling so strongly to the left that he had to fight to keep it on the road. Turns out that both the tires on the left were low... funny how I'd driven all day without a problem and yet they'd become hazardously low the moment I put my less experienced rider at the helm.  The rainbow: Had the machine not died when it did, my daughter would have entered the city streets and potentially lost control. If we hadn't stopped and her dad hadn't traded her bikes, things could've ended tragically.

6. As a rule, when we ride, we make frequent stops to wait for the "man behind" so we can keep tabs on each other. My daughter and I had stopped our machine at the bottom of twisty, slate covered, steeeeeep mountain grade to do just that. We were machine #6 of our 9 machine train, my husband and son were #7. It seemed like a lot of time was passing so we turned off our engine to see if we could hear anything. We thought we heard an engine, so we twisted our heads backwards to watch and got ready to ride as soon as they came around the bend. Nothing. Nobody. A few more minutes passed and we thought we heard another engine. Again, nothing. Nobody. At about the same time we were starting to get concerned, my cute young friend ran around the bend. And, for those of you who don't ride, there's nothing that screams "problem" like a person coming around the corner on foot without her bike!.. The announcement: "Your husband crashed!" I don't know how I turned my machine around or how I got it off the path, but somehow I did.... and in record time! I ran around the corner and up the hill in record speed as well. My husband was standing about half way down that steep, twisty ridge. His 4wheeler was face down in a ditch. My 10 year old was no where to be seen. My heart stopped for a moment. It didn't start beating again until I saw his  bright yellow jacket and unscathed face smile back at me. The rainbow: First of all, I think its important to clarify that up until about 10 minutes before the accident my daughter had been on the back of my husbands' bike. He'd had the feeling to change riders and, unknowing as to why that change was needed, listened. Miraculously both riders and the bike walked away unscathed. Both the angle at which the bike hit and the fact that neither rider had been launched on impact were miracles. However, the story may not have ended so well had my daughter still been on the back. That extra weight would have surely changed the angle at which the bike hit and almost definitely one, if not both of them would have been thrown  into  the rock-cliff wall.

7.  And, just when you think EVERYTHING that could go wrong has, I've got one more for you!! And, this one's the kicker!!!! (If she made it through #6, now would be a good time for my mother to stop reading!)  For the ride home we had to juggle some vehicles to accommodate for Ryan's missing truck. I ended up towing our friends' enclosed toy trailer behind my Expedition. Somewhere between Nephi and Santaquin on a quiet stretch of I-15 I saw a truck with a large trailer in my side-view mirror. He was quickly flying up the passing lane when I turned to my son and said, "He's going to move us." I secured my hold on the wheel and prepared for a push. And, sure enough, it came... more so than I anticipated! He sped by the side of us, first pushing my trailer towards the shoulder of the freeway then sucking it back over to the passing lane. We - meaning my Expedition, the trailer, my 2 boys, our 2 dogs, and myself - "danced" from one shoulder to the other for what seemed like an eternity. The trailer swayed from one side to the other, gyrating my car with it. White knuckles gripped my steering wheel with all the strength I had as I tried to regain control. Monopolizing the whole road, I fought against the momentum pushing, dragging, twisting across the asphalt. My tires left the ground not once, but twice! I prayed more fervently than ever! And so did Ryan and my girls as they watched in horror from their vehicle directly  behind us. I remember thinking, "We are going. We are done." Apparently I didn't just think it, I said it out loud.

And, then (excuse me while I wipe the tears from my eyes) something happened. Up to this point I've referred to these moments as rainbows, but this time I'd like to change up the verbiage. Rainbow just doesn't seem to cut it when you're talking about something that was nothing short of divine intervention. I am convinced that there is nothing you can do that could prepare you for the moment your trailer decides to fishtail out of control down the freeway. In all honesty, it was the most horrific thing I've ever experienced... and yet, as time slowed almost to a stop, and my mind seemed not to know what to do, the Spirit whispered softly to me and I followed.

It was not my own knowledge that kept us on the road. It was not my super-awesome driving skills that prevented the car from flipping. I fought with everything I had to get things under control, but my best just didn't seem to be good enough. And, just at the moment that I thought I couldn't fight anymore, a calm swept over me and someone else took over. It was not my doing that got the trailer under control. It was not me that realigned everything and stabilized my car.

You may think of these things as all "coincidence" or  just plain "lucky" but I think there's something more to them. Without a doubt, I know that each of these little "rainbows" that I experienced this weekend are in actuality little miracles. They exist around us everywhere. They take place everyday for those who care to notice them. I am grateful for the knowledge that I am a child of a loving God and that He watches over and protects his children. I am thankful that He sends guardian angels - both in the mortal and immortal form - to bless my life. And, I am humbled that He would care enough about me to intervene when things get too hard!

With the Wonder of a Child

"I do it," he declared with all the independence and force a three year old could muster. "I vacuum," he reaffirmed, staggering his way to the top step of the stool, vacuum hose in hand. 

The entire house was buzzing. Not a body rested in the Denver suburb home as we packed up my sister and her family for their big move. And, though my three year old nephew's help made the task of cleaning out the cupboards and drawers a longer process, his enthusiasm and curiosity were well worth the diversion. His fascination fascinated me. 

The ease at which he found delight could've put a smile on even the most sullen of faces. One moment he was sucking crumbs out of drawers and the next he was sticking his hand into the hose. "More power," his eyes and hands eagerly searched the vacuum machine for some mystical power enhancing button. "More power," he repeated the words over and over again, discouragement never creeping into his mind. He propped the nozzle up to his eye, curiously trying to see the magic that made it suck everything up. Giggles rolled out of both of our mouths when the nozzle affixed itself to his cheek.

When was the last time you looked at the world with such wonder? When was the last time you awed at the amazing facets that have become such a normal part of our world? From the vacuums in our homes to air conditioning in our cars we are surrounded by technological conveniences our ancestors would have never even dared to dream about. Hello smart-phones, television, computers!  But the wonder doesn't start and end with technology. What about the beauties of nature? When was the last time you stopped to feel the sun on your face? Or observe the delicate petals of a blossoming tree? Or bask in the beauty, companionship, and diversity of the people around you? 

When was the last time you took the time to appreciate the world with the wonder of a child?

Finding Hope Through the Atonement

Today I am honored to participate in the third annual LDS Writer Blogfest, and in doing so, to share a piece of my testimony with you. As the parameters of this opportunity are undefined, I've spent a lot of time trying to decide what topic to share, but time and time again, I find myself drawn to my testimony of the Savior and His Atonement.

Those of you who know me on a personal level, know that I'm a very independent person. The power to do things on my own is something I cherish to a fault. Because of this stubbornness, it took falling flat on my face before I realized my daily need for the Savior. Honestly, though those were some dark times in my life, I am grateful for the mistakes that forced me to humility. I am grateful for a Savior - a brother and friend - who advocates to the Father for me! This life is tough, we all have trials, temptations, and weakness, but because we have a Savior, we also have hope, purpose, and strength. Everything He did was to enrich our lives - not hinder them. I am grateful for my relationship with the Savior. I am especially grateful for His nonjudgmental, unconditional love. I'm honored to know Him and credit every success I have to that very real and enriching relationship. He suffered in Gethsemane - bled in excruciating pain from every pore - for me... and for you too! It is only through His atoning sacrifice that we can be whole.

If you've not already done so, I invite you to reach out and take His hand. He will not lead you astray, but instead, through Him you will find peace, acceptance, and joy! 

If you'd like to read the beautiful thoughts and testimonies of some of my fellow authors, please visit their blogs. 

Amanda Sowards (Easter Traditions), Angie Lofthouse (Avoiding Envy), Ben Spendlove (A Little Child Shall Lead Them), Britanny Larsen (Only Upon Principles of Righteousness), Cami Checketts (Service),
Charity Bradford ("Stop It"), Danyelle Ferguson, Giselle Abreu (Our Savior), Julia Keanini, Julie Coulter Bellon (Time to Prepare), Kasey Tross (Revelation and Inspiration), Kayeleen Hamblin (Laborers in the Vineyard), Kelly Bryson (Prophets, it takes one to know one), Krista Van Dolzer (How Grace Works), Laura Johnston (conference highlights), Melanie Standord (The Merciful Obtain Mercy), Rachelle Christensen, Rebecca Belliston, Sierra Gardner

Prom - A Chance for Teens (and, uh-hum, parents) to Exercise True Maturity

It's that time of year that every high school student anticipates - either with excitement or dread. I'm not talking about graduation, though I'm sure there is much joy and angst over that too - I'm talking about PROM.

Where we live our high schools host Junior Prom but you don't necessarily have to be a junior to partake of all the excitement. I know of seniors and even sophomores who attended our local Prom this past weekend. For me, the experience signified a few different emotions:


Pride: It was the first time I got to see my son in a tux! For those of you have yet to cross this bridge, I recommend you prepare yourself with some tissue. I'm not a crier, but in all honesty, it stirred some very real emotions in my heart to see my "baby boy" all dressed up. There's nothing that says "grown up" like a classy tuxedo!


Nostalgia:  By reason of obvious correlation, Prom makes me wax a bit nostalgic. Of course I remember my own Prom. In only my wildest dreams did I dare imagine that the handsome young man who escorted me to the Prom would actually become the handsome man who escorts me through every event in my life.


Fear: Okay, maybe fear is a bit strong, but honestly, I can't think of a better emotion. Let me explain...

A handful of years ago my husband and I took a little trip to Baltimore, MD. We arrived in the city late in the evening, exhausted from a long day of travel but excited for the adventures that lay ahead of us. Among other things, our agenda included a visit to the historical Fort McHenry (where the Star Spangled Banner was written!) and a tour of Washington DC. Unbeknownst to the both of us, however, we were about to have a Prom experience!  


A chill blew off the bay and onto my arms as I exited the rental car. As I rubbed warmth into my  extremities, I noticed several groups of teenagers lingering around the downtown hotel entrance - the boys in tuxedos the girls barely clad with small slices of fabric. How were they not freezing? Most of their shoulders were bare and many of their dresses were barely long enough to cover their back-ends. We didn't pay much mind to them as we rolled our luggage into the lobby, but the reality of the situation hit as soon as we tried to check-in. 


Though we had a reservation, the hotel had to scramble to find us a room. "It's Prom," the desk attendant shrugged as if that explained everything. Maybe it was the look of confusion on our faces or perhaps even our conservative looking attire, but she explained further. "Parent's rent their kids hotel rooms for Prom. We are overbooked." She may have even attached a "duh" to the end of her statement but I was too busy picking my chin up off the marble floor to have heard her.

So, here is were my fear comes in... Regardless of where we live, what religion we subscribe to, or our socioeconomic class, Prom seams to have earned the reputation as an event that excuses virtue, modesty, and ultimately chastity. It doesn't matter if you live in downtown Baltimore or rural Utah, to one extent or another, Prom is seen as an opportunity to exercise perceived maturity through drinking, drug use, or sexual activity.

I guess the big question is, WHAT CAN WE DO ABOUT IT? Okay, this would be a "parent" question, because honestly, teens probably aren't asking that.  The question for teens is more likely, WHY DOES IT MATTER?... aka WHO CARES?

Let me attempt to answer both questions:

For Teens:  

Why does virtue, modesty, chastity, or physical cleanliness (uh-hum, drinking or drugs) matter? 

• Let's start with drugs and alcohol. Would you hop in the passenger seat and give the Devil the keys to your car? Facetiousness aside, I think the honest answer is NO. So, why then, would you give him the "keys" to your body, your mind, and your actions? Why would you willingly hand over your independence to someone who's primary mission is to destroy you? Drugs and alcohol impede your independence.  
• We hear the words "recreational use" thrown around a lot, but lets be honest here: Why would you want to surrender your control for even a minute? And, where do you draw the line between "recreation" and "addiction?" I've never met an addict who's life goal was to be an addict. I've also never met an addict who is happy with the state of his/her life. A couple quick examples: I knew a  kid who "recreationally" used various drugs. One night he thought he'd give Oxy a try... you know, just to see what it was like. Long story short, after a single dose, his body went into cardiac arrest and a 15 year old's body was lay to rest. I had a very close friend use, at first prescription, then eventually harder drugs to escape the stress of his home life. Eventually that crutch turned into recreational use, then addiction, and ultimately onto the death of a fun, smart, potential-filled person. He was only 19. I also know an adult who started "recreationally" using in high school. For a number of years her life went okay. She had a successful carrier, a happy marriage, and beautiful children... until, her addiction took over. Even though she was able to have a degree of success, it was short lived. Her drug use landed her in prison, took away her job and her family, and left her alone. These are just a few examples from my own personal experience. Unfortunately, I could list one example after the other of how drugs or alcohol have RUINED the lives of people I know and love! Ask yourself this: IS RECREATIONAL USE WORTH THE RISK?  

Lets move on.... 

• Modesty - Let's face it, if you dress to draw attention to your body, you will draw attention to your body! Duh, right? But, maybe you should ask yourself what purpose that serves. Do you really think enticing someone to notice your body will actually make them notice the person inside? You are more than just a pretty face or an exposed neckline. You have purpose and value despite the physical appetites your body might induce. The way you dress actually serves as a means of advertising who you are. What does the way you dress say about you? And, what does it say about how you value yourself and what you are willing to do?   
• Sex is not a RIGHT of adulthood. In fact, it's not a right at all. It is a PRIVILEGE reserved for the purpose of creating families and is an unselfish expression of love within marriage. When practiced outside of marriage, it serves one of three purposes: (1) fulfillment of your own selfish desire or (2) surrender to someone else's selfish desires, or (3) the temporary satisfaction of a craving for validation. There are very few times in life when SELFISHNESS, SURRENDER, and TEMPORARY FULFILLMENT aren't traits of weakness.  VIRTUE is a desired trait. It is, essentially, the pinnacle of moral excellence. As the parent to modesty and chastity, our virtue defines the type of person we are, the type of person we want to be, and the quality of the relationships we have with others.
• Sex is more than physical pleasure. I recently read an article defending the "right" to casual sex. I'm not going to post a link to it, because, frankly, it made smoke shoot out my ears! The argument was, "Sex is nothing more than physical pleasure."  Why then, if it's nothing more than physical, do hearts get so easily broken by infidelity? If there is no emotional connection, then the purpose of sex is purely selfish, and we've already defined that selfishness is weakness.

• So, what if I truly love someone? What if there is an emotional element?... To put it bluntly: If you love them, you will respect their virtue and they will respect yours. Sex is akin to letting a caged dog run free. Once you open the gate, you're going to have a heck of a time closing it again. Once you've surrendered your virginity, you cannot get it back. And, once you've experienced those pleasures, you will crave them. A dog who has run free is hard to put back in his cage. Keep those desires caged until you have a safe and appropriate "yard" for them to run in. The only "safe" place for sex - emotionally, physically (to avoid STDs, unplanned pregnancy, etc), and spiritually - is within the bonds of a healthy, loving marriage. 

The bottom line: If you really want to exercise your independence and maturity, you will not surrender your control to anyone or anything! 

For Parents: 

What can I do about it?... Or, perhaps: How do I keep my kid from being a statistic? 

• Aside from ballgowns, tuxedos, corsages, boutineers, and limos, we need to make sure that our teens have a healthy supply of self-worth when they walk out the door. Self-worth can't be purchased for any price. It comes primarily from supportive, attentive, expectant parents. It is nurtured in a loving home. Respect your children, have open, honest conversations with them, and - no matter what they do - love them! It's a really simple recipe, but it works. Validate your children and they won't have to look elsewhere for it.

• Be clear with what your guidelines are. Set your expectations and be prepared to explain your "whys." If you need suggestions for how to talk to your kids, click here for some tips. The LDS church puts out a fabulous pamphlet, For the Strength of Youth, that discusses drugs and alcohol, dating, dress, sexual purity, and a plethora of other topics. Whether you are Mormon or not, the information contained in this pamphlet may help you more clearly define what your personal guidelines and standards are. 

Here's to a happy and successful Prom season of being mature, responsible, and above all: exercising self-respect! If you don't do anything you might regret, hey, you just saved yourself a lot of regret!