True Compliments

Little children can be so uplifting.  They are so eager to love, and show that love as much as possible!

I teach art to all grade levels in the school, Kindergarten through 6th grade.  Oh, those little ones!  On the one hand, they can be hard to handle because they are absolutely BURSTING with energy, and when you put 25 of them in the same room it can be overwhelming and difficult to control.

On the other hand, they are so ready to shower me with compliments.  You know the domino effect?  It can be especially problematic with a room full of 5 year olds.  Just let one of them say he/she has to go potty....

.... suddenly there is a room FULL of 5 year olds who ALL have to go potty!  Oi.

However, the domino effect also works when one of those little darlings wants to show some love.  If one little Kindergartener (or 1st grader, or 2nd grader...) runs up to me with a hug and an "I love your _____ (insert random physical attribute... hair, shoes, shirt, necklace...)!" it is guaranteed that I am about to be showered with similar compliments from at least 6 more kids in line.  I get told "You're so pretty!" so many times in the day it is a wonder my ego isn't blown all out of proportion.

The truth is, they are just so eager to LOVE life that I'm sure they would think I'm pretty even if I was a toad (though I'm glad I am not a toad).

The true gems of compliments are much more rare and so precious when they do happen.

Yesterday, while I was setting out some art supplies for a Kindergarten class, as I leaned over her, one of the little girls commented, "You smell good, teacher," followed up just a beat or two later by "You smell like my Mommy."

How can a compliment be more beautiful than that?

Grief

Laying in bed, tossing and turning because I can't get the thoughts in my head to leave me alone.  So I thought I might as well get up and put those thoughts down in words, so maybe, finally, I can go to sleep.

None of my children go to church.  I ask my youngest to join me at church every Sunday morning.  Every Sunday morning he turns me down.  My husband only grudgingly goes, some of the time, because he loves me and knows it would make me happy.  If it weren't for that, he would not grace the chapel with his presence.  To be honest, it makes it hard for me to go.  I hate to go alone.

Why do I bother?  Why do I care?  What does it matter to me if they go to church or not?  It is true that I am not one of those parents who force my offspring into church attendance.  I am not fool enough to think that if I just MAKE them come, they will somehow love the gospel and be better Christians.

Why won't they come?  Do they not believe?  Are they not Christian enough?  Or is the church not Christian enough?  Have I done something wrong in raising them?  Is there something more I could/should do?

I doubt the kids remember this, but when they were babies, their lullabies were Hymns.  I rocked them to sleep singing "Nearer, My God, To Thee", "Rock of Ages", "Because I Have Been Given Much", "The Lord is My Shepherd", and many others of my favorites.  I have literally years of memories; cuddling my precious children while singing to them about Christ.  Helena probably does have memories of constantly requesting her personal favorite children's Hymn, "I Love to See the Temple".  That one is unique to the LDS faith, so for those who are not members, here are the lyrics:

I Love To See the Temple,

I'm going there someday.

To feel the Holy Spirit,

To listen and to pray.

For the Temple is a House of God,

A place of Love and Beauty.

I'll prepare myself while I am young,

This is my sacred duty.

I love to see the Temple,

I'll go inside someday.

I'll covenant with my Father

I promise to obey.

For the Temple is a Holy Place,

Where we are sealed together.

As a Child of God, I've learned this truth,

A Family is Forever.

If you want to know what it sounds like, here are a couple of links.  The first is an instrumental arrangement that is more elaborate, the second is more simply arranged.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ysp4EuHQ2wk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djRs9dBn6sI

She used to ask for this at bedtime so often I would just get sick of singing it.  But I never said "No".

They spent their entire childhoods attending worship services dressed in their Sunday best.  I still have all the dresses my mother made especially for Helena.  She was the best dressed little girl in the congregation, since my mom is a master seamstress and the dresses often involved French lace insets, fancy embroidery, and hand worked smocking.  Those dresses are truly fit for a princess and would be incredibly expensive if actually sold.  Never, of course!  I have always hoped that someday Helena will want to dress her own little girl in those dresses and take her to church to learn about God's love.

So, they went to Sunday School.  They were taught at home.  They know all the fundamentals about the Gospel of Christ.

And yet they don't worship.

Before you tell me that maybe their worship is done in private, I have contemplated that.

I don't think it is happening.

Why, you ask?

Because private worship brings a person closer to the gospel, not farther from it.  Private worship softens hearts.  Private worship brings families closer together.  I don't see that happening.

I watch my kids make some of the most crucial decisions of their lives and I fear for them because they are not turing to the Lord for help in making those decisions.  I get frustrated because my advice falls on deaf ears and hardened hearts.  I see my children drifting away from me and there is nothing I can do to stop it.

I am a broken person.  I think everyone is flawed, in some way.  But I am a person who was damaged as a child and spent a lifetime feeling of little worth.  Feeling unclean.  Feeling unworthy.  I now know it is why I never had close friends growing up.  It is why I struggled with dating.  It is why I'm a loner.  It is something I battle with on a daily basis.  I will battle with it all my life.  Some hurts run deeper than can ever be imagined and the scars will always bring pain.

The only times I have felt whole are times when I have felt close to the Savior.  The times in my life when I was truly striving to live my life in harmony with the gospel of Christ.  In those moments I have felt true joy and have even received significant personal revelations that have guided me and formed the basis or core of the person I am still striving to be.  Most of those moments are tied to my family, as well.  Moments when I was sealed to my husband and children for eternity.  Moments when I snuggled my sleeping infant.  Moments when my siblings shared their testimonies as we gathered to say farewell to our beloved brother, who had passed away.  Moments when I watched my children get baptized.  Moments when I realized that I didn't have to be a perfect person to receive the love of my Savior and partake in his atoning sacrifice.

And so I grieve.

I grieve because my children are not turning to God as the guiding force in their lives.  They are allowing their reaction to people get in the way of their relationship with God.  People in the church can be frustrating.  They are imperfect, too, after all.  The members of the church can be the biggest impediment to the gospel of Christ, sometimes.  People say and do stupid stuff.  But that is not important.  The people are not the gospel.  The gospel allows us to love the people around us in spite of our own imperfections, and theirs, too.

But if you don't focus on the gospel, you can lose sight of that.

So.  I need to do better.  I need to bring Christ back to the center of my own life.  I can't force him to the center of my children's lives, but I can continue to pray for them and hope that it is enough to soften their hearts and bring them back.

I want them to have spiritual lives.

Blessed

Just when I am fuming and bitter over some disappointment dealt to me by my daughter, a friend posted to Facebook the sad news that his new baby daughter did not survive her pre-term delivery.



And I am shamed.

And I am humbled.

And I am reminded of the great blessing of having my beautiful daughter in my life.  I have had nearly 20 years of love and laughter that my friend will have to forgo, because his beautiful daughter has left this mortal life.  I can hopefully look forward to many more moments of wonder and love in the years to come.

We are imperfect beings, living in an imperfect world.  But there are moments of perfect happiness that can be stored away in memories.  They are such great blessings in life.

Happiness is fleeting.

Love is eternal.

I am sorry for my friend.



And I love my daughter.

I'm a Wreck

It is ridiculous how much time has gone by without a post.  Life, I guess.

There have been many times I have meant to sit down and write about something that has happened, but the moment passes and now I forget what I wanted to say.  Hopefully it wasn't too important.

Summer has gone, and I feel cheated out of the best weather of the year.

I'm sick, you see.

I had Strep for a week (including the weekend), which morphed into a cold with chest congestion that has ruined yet another weekend for me.  Bah humbug and harrumph.  I hate being sick, but it is especially rude in late September - when we experience the most amazing and awesome weather of the year!  Two perfect weekends totally ruined.  I'm feeling quite bitter.

My family has taken advantage of the weather, though.  Bill has been on multiple bike rides.  Helena did the Electric Run at Thanksgiving Point, which looked like a cross between a 5K and a rock concert.  Will took a friend with him to windsurf on the lake all day.  He got an impressive sunburn.

I sat inside rubbing my nose raw on tissues.

I also missed the last week of outdoor swimming.  Grrr.

Still, onward and upward, eh?

I'm starting to want to exercise again, a sure sign I'm getting better.  And really, October has great hiking weather, so there's that to anticipate.

Meanwhile, I'm in physical therapy for the spot on my back that got hurt in the car accident last year.  It started hurting again for no apparent reason.  The doctor said that the insurance won't cover the cost of an MRI until after p/t has been done.  Phooey.  P/T costs a $30 copay each time I go, which is twice a week.  It does not fit in the budget, but what do you do?

Man!  I'm a wreck!