SPARE ME THE CALAMITIES

I went Visiting Teaching today but only to one of our three sisters. I gave the lesson. I used Julie B. Beck's conference talk. “And upon the Handmaids in Those Days Will I Pour Out My Spirit” (She is the Relief Society General President for our church.)

It's a wonderful talk, full of hope and the promise of peace and joy and encouragement about how to receive revelation. After I gave my lesson the other two women immediately started to talk about the calamities in the world. Hurricanes. Tornadoes. Exploding volcanoes. End of the world type stuff. My visiting teaching companion searches the Internet for information about the latest horrible thing happening in the world. The lady we were visiting had a real enthusiasm for the subject too, and they got more excited by the minute, giving details of the latest mind boggling happening in the world, and why some tragedies could have been prevented and on and on and on.

This diagram shows the potential range of the total destruction of the Yellowstone volcano. Note, Utah is gone. Totally gone. I don't think I'll bother to vacuum tomorrow.
About six years ago I got sick in the summer. After I got well I noticed I was having anxiety and panic attacks. Not major ones but enough that on a regular basis I'm pretty miserable. If I hear about a tragedy or know someone in trouble or in pain I take on their problems. I cannot watch the news without experiencing depression. I don't even want to read books with unhappy endings or even unhappy middles--and how on earth do you write books without conflict and strife--those books would be insipid but that's the kind of books I want to read--I don't--I read the ones with conflict and strife but I want to read happy ones.

So, the longer Miss Enthusiasm-for-calamities and Miss I-can-top-that-horrible-story talked, the worse I felt.

Then I remembered some words from Sister Beck's talk: "The ability to qualify for, receive, and act on personal revelation is the single most important skill that can be acquired in this life."

Okay, I said to myself, if I can get revelation I need some now because I'm rapidly slipping towards destruction, right along with the Yellowstone soon-to-be-volcano-which-will-surely-wipe-out-Utah-along-with-several-other-states-and-a-good-portiom-of-Canada-and-will-probably-put-the-world-into-nuclear-winter. I know these things because Thing One and Thing Two discussed it. In detail!

So, in my shaky little inner voice I sang a Primary song to myself, "Heavenly Father, are you really there? Do you hear and answer every child's prayer?" Entire song here. Almost immediately the fear left . In fact the two women started to sound like the teacher on any of the Charlie Brown movies. "Waah-waah-waah-waah-waah-waaa."

I know this might sound stupid, but to me this was another witness of God's goodness, removing the fear and panic from one woman who should know better but who just can't help herself.

Disclaimer: No disrespect toward Thing One or Thing Two (who I actually adore) was intended, and no harm came to either of them, even though someone thought they should surely be beaned over the head. Any resemblance to people living or dead may or may not be coincidental.

Note: Mrs. Bird is one of the women we visit teach but she was on the lawn swings with us the other night and so I gave her a inadequate but heartfelt lesson. She did not talk of floods, lava tubes full of magma swallowing whole towns and roads and slow moving turtles, or tornadoes, carrying cows through the sides of barns and depositing them, with a flock of chickens, in hay lofts. No, indeed. She told us jokes and funny things about raccoons in their attic and had us laughing for a good half hour and I was enriched and happy and did not have to sing a Primary song to ward off the twitches. Long live Mrs. Bird! And I'm afraid their raccoons are going to have long lives too. Not one raccoon but many. In the attic. Pooping, probably. And chewing things up. And smashing the insulation and they will probably sue Mrs. Bird and her husband because they will have asbestos problems with their lungs. And Mrs. Bird will put a funny spin on it and tell us on the lawn swings and I'll tell you and then we'll all have a good laugh and be happy. And if the Yellowstone volcano blows, I hope we go quick. But on the bright side, the raccoon problem will be solved. I must remember to tell Mrs. Bird. She'll be thrilled.

WHO WE ARE AND HOW ARE WE GOING TO FIND OUR WAY?

Greg Olsen painting, Precious in His sight.

Today, in Sacrament Meeting, I was sitting in front of a young family. Their little boy, about age four was making the regular little-boy noises, quietly, not disruptive at all when I heard very clearly, "Help me find the way." This is a line from the song "I Am a Child of God." (Click here to hear this song.)

Years and years ago, when we lived in Modesto, California, Phil worked with a family whose young boy was about the same age as today's little boy. One day his mom was chatting with a gentleman and the man looked down at the young boy, ruffled his hair, and said, "And whose little boy are you?"

"I am a child of God," the boy said.

Today in Relief Society one young mother mentioned that every time she left the house her mother would say, "Remember who you are." The girl, who was a teenager, and had heard this statement thousands of times always said--in her mind--"Yeah, yeah," but she never forgot who she was and she could hear her mother's voice--again in her mind-- "Remember who you are," over and over and over. This young mother is now married and has twin girls and you can bet they hear this statement often.

Let's all remember who we are. No matter how tattered we feel. No matter what level of spirituality we are currently on. No matter if we believe in God or just wish we could believe. It is my sincere testimony that we are all God's children. He wants us to live our lives well so we can return to him.

I am going to give up one bad habit in March so I can become more like the Father that I know I have. It's not going to be easy. I've been struggling with this one thing for years and years--as long as I can remember. It won't keep me out of Heaven but if I can give it up I will feel better about myself. Now I have big things too, things I know I shouldn't do or things I know I should, but I'm going to start with this one small one and then tackle the harder ones next.

And isn't that the bottom line? We all want to feel better about ourselves. We want to know who we are and where we belong. And, along the way, we need help. We need people to help us find the way. We need to remember who we are so we have the conficence to live better so, when our earth life is over, we can return to our Father.

NO EMPTY CHAIRS

Today Hillary and the girls came for a visit. We didn't do anything outstanding, just visited and I fixed them "Toad in the hole" for dinner. I know, a horrible name and a breakfast food to boot. I loved having them here. They are mine and I am theirs.

When they left I thought, There goes my life. Then I thought, Phil and the other kids and grandkids are my life, too. And then I thought Heavenly father and Jesus are my life too, they were my life first. They are the reason I'm here, with this family that I love so much. They make it all possible.

Standing there in the doorway, waving to them I had the distinct impression--almost words in my mind from Heavenly Father: "Without every one of you my family will be incomplete." It was so strong, this impression, that I told Phil about it. And then I told Hillary, when she called to say she was home. I don't know if either of them understood the significance of what I heard. It IS significant. Each is valuable, wanted and all will be wrong if even one doesn't make it back.

Before my last child was born--she was a late arrival--I was 42--I had no idea she was coming and yet, sometimes, when setting the table I took one too many plates and had to put one back. This happened so often that I deliberately tried to take just the right number but often, there it was, an extra plate. I knew, somehow that the family wasn't complete yet. And now it is. My earthly family.

Take of it what you will. I think "my" thoughts earlier were right. Without every single one of us, there will be a hole in our Heavenly eternal family. And incompleteness. Empty chairs.

Let's have no empty chairs.

AND THEY HAVE FAITH

This is a little bunch of tulips that come up every spring in a spot impossible for growth. They are almost to the foundation--almost no sun and no rain or snow ever gets that far back. I have to remember to hand water them. That's fairly easy in the spring, when I can see them, but in the fall, when they are putting down roots, I totally forget. And yet they survive.

We are here on earth like these tulips. We have forgotten our father and Jesus. All we have to go on is the testimony of the prophets. And yet we believe and know we are watched over. And so we flourish and grow and sometimes we even bloom. We do because we have faith. And hope. Especially at Easter, when the faith in our Savior, who gives us the chance to be washed clean so we can return to our Father, is strong.

We all grow differently and in different places but we all grow because our Father loves us and wants us back. Whether we remember or not, we have hope and we believe.

OLD FRIENDS AND NEW FRIENDS

Photo submitted to the KSL Photo Contest, in Salt Lake City, Utah, by Karen Silvester.

Old friends and new friends, friends in need and friends who come to you when you are in need. Our best friend is the Savior. Through the Holy Ghost he sends friends to the phone and to your door with soup and flowers and apples and to the Internet with words of laughter and encouragement and love. And when the day is darkest, and you are on your knees in pleading prayer, he sends help. Maybe we don't recognize it but help is on its way.

If tonight you are sad or lonely turn to the scriptures and to prayer. And when you have the thought to call a friend, do so. You may be the answer to someone else's prayer for help and comfort. Or maybe just to brighten their day or to go to lunch or just to say, "cute shoes," when they are having shoe-buying remorse.

May you all feel the comfort of the Savior's love and of your Father in Heaven, this day and always. You are loved.

May God bless you.

Lynne

A STORY FOR TUESDAY

Today, Gilmore Girl, Tuesday and I played. Gilmore Girl had a couple of quick errands to run. Tuesday and I didn't want to go so I stayed in the car with her and told her stories. Here's one:

There was once a little girl ladybug who was different. She had an orange body with blue spots.

She didn't go to preschool because she was afraid the other ladybug children would laugh at her. She didn't go out to play because she was afraid children would laugh at her. She wore a coat to church on Sunday, even in the summer, because she was afraid people would laugh at her.

Soon she was old enough for school and her mother said she had to go. The little ladybug with an orange body and blue spots said she was not going to go to school. She cried and threw a tantrum--several tantrums--and then she sulked.

The Friday before school started her mother got a whole stack of paper, two dozen markers and a pot of glitter. She worked late into the night. When she was finished she left the house and stapled the papers on trees. She stapled the papers on bulletin boards. She taped the papers on the windows of grocery stores and on the door to the school and outside the city hall. When she came home she kissed her little orange girl with the blue spots and went to bed.

On Monday morning the little girl threw a tantrum--several tantrums--and then she sulked but her mother would not change her mind. She ate a breakfast of aphids and put on her coat and said she was ready. Her mom made her take off her coat and said, "You don't need that. So what if you aren't like everyone else? Be brave and show others who you really are." And then she took her daughter's hand and they left for school.

The little ladybug kept her head down and so she didn't see the people on the street curtsy when she passed. When they got to school the Principal curtsied and welcomed her, calling her, "Your Princess-ness."

The little ladybug looked up. Her eyes showed the white all around--that is if ladybugs have white all around.

When they got to the classroom the teacher curtsied and said, "Welcome, your Majesty."

The children all stood up. The girls curtsied and the boys bowed at the waist--that is if ladybug children have waists.

The mother smiled and pushed the little ladybug a bit and then everyone crowded around the little ladybug with the orange body and the blue spots and said, "Will you be my friend?" And of course she would.

When the momma ladybug left the school she took the paper off the door of the school and off trees, grocery stores, and the city hall. She stuffed them in the garbage can and put the lid on top. One paper fluttered to the ground. It said:

"Of Royal Birth." There was a glittery picture of a king and queen ladybug with orange bodies and blue spots.

The paper said, "Everyone is of Royal Birth. Some are more easily recognized than others."

And so it is true. All the ladybugs, men and women ladybugs, children ladybugs and baby ladybugs were or royal birth, just like you are, Tuesday. You are of Royal Birth because of your Father in Heaven. Everyone born on earth is of royal birth. They may look different but they are all Heavenly Father's children and should know how wonderful they really are.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then I heard a little voice from the back seat that said, "That's good, Grandma."

And she's right. It is.

THE ABC'S OF GRATITUDE--L

L--I am grateful for love. Grateful I was born into a family who loved me.

My dad was killed in a plane crash before I was two and I have always missed the love he had for me. the chapter I am writing this week has all the emotion I have always had about being raised without him. It's been hard to write because I have been so angry and feel so cheated.

Mom remarried and Daddy loved me. Even when I was a dirty-rotten-stinker. I adored him. He was a marvelous man. I am a better person for being raised by him and I love him with all my heart.

The love I have for my Mom cannot be described. She loved me totally and I loved her back. I miss her so much that some days I sneak away to the bathroom and cry. She was the ideal mother, fixing tea parties for Holly and me, grinning and bearing my teenage hysterics, adoring my babies and my teenagers, loving Phil as if he were her own son, and always, always, loving me.

I had two amazing sisters. Each was different and unique. Who I am is in some part because of how they treated me when I was growing up. They loved me and I loved them but there was all that sibling stuff going on. My book is full of that sibling stuff. It may be hard for my sister to read--then again maybe she will never have to. I hope she will understand that without all that sibling stuff I would be a weak, easily wounded sissy and that she helped make me strong. My other sister died way to early and when I am crying--in the bathroom for my mom--I cry for her, too.

I have been in love maybe three times in my life. I was lucky that the man I loved the most, Phil, loved me back. He's loved me when I was grumpy, depressed, angry--I threw water on him once from the second story balcony because I was so angry--actually that time we ended up laughing. He's loved me through good times, the birth of our children, the funny, laugh out loud times. He knows me better than anyone else and loves me anyway. He is my strength. He is strong in the gospel and loves the Lord and tries to do what is right. I love him for his commitment and his goodness. I love him for a hundred different reasons.

I love the children. They come as babies and we are charmed. By the time they get interesting it's too late and we are hooked. And they were interesting in unnumbered ways. We waited them out and soon they became interesting in milder ways and now we are friends. I am madly in love with each of them. I love who they have chosen to love and spend their lives with. They have given us grandchildren and the grandchildren are charismatic and we are as hooked on them as we are about our children. Some of them just have dogs and so we love the dogs while we are being patient for the charismatic grandchildren.

And I can't talk about love without mentioning my "goodest," daily, life-changing-for-the-better friends. They know me almost as well as Phil does and maybe even better than the kids. Some are email buddies, some are "spittin' distance" ones and some are not seen often but are friends to the end.

And I've saved the best for last. I love Heavenly Father and Jesus. I am so grateful I had the chance to come to earth and receive a body and find Phil and be allowed to bear Heavenly Father's children. I am in love with the fact that Father trusts me. I let him down and what does he do? Trusts me again. He must love me a lot to let me make all these mistakes and let me decide when I am going to make things better. And he sent Jesus to atone for me and for all His children and then, if that weren't enough, he sent the Holy Ghost to warn, comfort and guide.

I am blessed to have loved and been loved.

HAVE PEACE IN YOUR HEARTS

I was not going to blog tonight, just go to bed and not worry about it but a friend is in distress and I must stay up and email her. There is nothing I can do to help. I will tell her I love her and am praying for her--which I did, right this very minute--and I hope she receives the peace I prayed for.

And that is my prayer for all tonight. Some are in situations that can't be helped or fixed. Some are in situations that will eventually be all right. But all are loved by their Father in Heaven and by the Savior. I hope all will be comforted and have peace in their hearts.

You are so very important to your Heavenly Father and the Savior. You are so very loved. Open yourself up to that love and be reassured.

AND THE RAINS CAME DOWN

Today, as I was driving all over the place, I looked at the cloudless sky and thought, "I really should have been actively praying for rain." This has been a very dry summer. We know we have had rain a lot of nights--about this much. Oh, sorry, you can't see my fingers--they are glued together. It has only rained enough to make a the windshield spotty like a speckled pup.

So, I stopped all my internal dialogue and just said a quick, silent prayer to our Heavenly Father for some rain. This was about 5:00 o'clock, it was 101 degrees.

I was driving home at about 8:00 o'clock. There was a forest fire on the mountain and the air was thick with a the smell of nature burning to ash. The back mountain was hazy with smoke.

I stopped at a friend's house--she and her hubby have been gone for about two weeks and I have been about a week overdue from lonesomeness for her. (She is the one who made the hysterical phone calls about the caramel-thievery and provided the best laughs I've had all summer.) I crashed their dinner and they graciously let me sit and drink in their friendship.

And then the rain came. Not a soft rain, a deluge. I would have waited it out but in the past if we got rain like that for more than five minutes we got flooded. Our storm drain has not been big enough and the water used to come over the sidewalk, up the lawn and, "Hello, Snyder's! I've brought a lake to your basement. You can wade and go fishing. Have a nice day." The city has since tried to fix things but still, we've had some close calls since then.

So I dashed to the car, which was locked, of course, and by the time I got home and dashed again I was soaked but not as bad as Phil, who was on a ladder, of all things, by the front porch. He had the front lawn hose turned on full force, clearing the rain gutter of who knows what, which he cleaned out thoroughly two weeks ago. The water was pouring over the rain gutter and merrily making its way, singing and burbling all the while, toward the basement window.

If he hadn't been home, but gallivanting with me, we would have had a lake in the basement...again. I bless his non-gallivanting soul.

So, today the rain came, the forest fire is out, the lawn and garden are soaked to a depth of probably a foot, and the car is washed clean. So there is a three-fer if ever there was one.

I should pray for rain more often. And I will. And for sure tonight's prayer will be one of thankfulness for many blessings, including the lack of wading and fishing opportunities in the basement, and the mountain being saved.

And now the earth is clean and fresh, just like a mouthwash commercial.

Oh, happy day.

MOVIE: THE PRIZE WINNER OF DEFIANCE, OHIO

Yesterday our Net Flix movie came. The Prize Winner of Defiance, Ohio. This was another of my choices. The one before it was also mine, Whale Rider. A gripping Maori film. Well, I liked it. It was a gentle movie. If Phil wants real gripping, action packed movies he needs to get busy and order some. I just ordered three more, just like this one, movies that I've never heard of, gentle, heartwarming movies. This movie was based on a true story of a woman who, with her wit, determination and writing ability, entered contests and won.
Early on, we see the milkman--we saw him a lot--telling her he couldn't deliver her milk because she couldn't pay. Just then the mailman brought the mail and she opened up an envelope that contained two dollars winnings from a contest she had entered. She paid the milkman and got her milk.
All through the movie she won things. A freezer, a Triumph car, which she had to sell but she sat in it a lot, enjoying it while she had it even though she didn't drive.
She even won a frenzied shopping trip where she loaded her cart with things like button mushrooms, caviar and capers, sides of bacon and steak. She rejoiced in each item and helped the kids rejoice in them too. They had a feast with all the things she had put in her cart but her disgruntled husband refused to join in the fun. He opened a can of spam and ate it cold out of the can.
What I liked most about the movie was that she was happy. She had ten kids and an alcoholic husband. She could barely keep ahead of the bills and she was happy. She was happy about little things and big things and she taught her kids that they were important and valued and she was happy they were hers.

My favorite line in the movie--her pessimistic husband, who drank his way into the family's near ruin was criticising her for being happy--I should have made Phil back the DVD up so I could quote it exactly but she said something like: "I just want you to not ruin things when I am happy."

I've been thinking about the movie ever since. She was happy no matter what. We all have things we are sad about. Children we worry about, husbands who left us--mine hasn't but if I keep ordering grade B movies, maybe--diseases, deaths of loved ones, lost jobs, lost loves, lost lives--or so we think, bad hair, bad shoes, bad attitudes, etc. Why can't we be happy, like this woman was, anyway? Yes, we are sad about sad things but can't we be happy about little things, like she was?

The scripture, "Man is that he might have joy," keeps coming back to me, again and again. Our Heavenly Father wants us to have joy, to be joyful. Here. Now. Even with the tough times. We knew we were going to face tough times when we came here and yet we "shouted for joy" at the opportunity to come.

My wish for all of us today: for you, who are sad today, for you who are happy today, and for me, who might or might not be sad or happy today, is that we might find joy in our lives. Not when things get better, not when the trials are over, but right now. I wish we might have joy in our lives like the woman in this film.

Find something to be joyful about. You are a daughter of a Heavenly Father who loves you. That's a biggie, isn't it? That's worth a whole bucket, overflowing with joy, every day. What a miracle that we have that knowledge. He loves us, he watches over us. No, he does not stop the bad things from happening but he helps us to have the strength to live through them.

And he wants us to be happy.

And we will, won't we? Sure. We can do that. We can do anything because after all, we are children of Heavenly Father.

ARE TOUGH TIME JUST HERE OR ARE THEY WHERE YOU ARE TOO?

Tough times.

My friend's hubby lost his job. She's frightened. Should she get a job or trust that he will? She doesn't want to move. Again. He says they won't have to but how does he know?

Another friend fell and is on crutches, no one at home to help her. Her husband, the love of her life, that she found late in life, died, and the loneliness is worse now than before she found him.

Two people have leukemia. Not good for either one. One's kids are grown but those kids have already lost their mom to cancer and this would be devastating. The other one is young, married with a two year old--a whole life to want to live, a child she wants to rear, to teach, to watch grow, to laugh with and love--a husband she wants to grow old with.

Another in the hospital...again. She has had so many surgeries she can't remember how many. Close to 30, maybe more. She, too is alone. Her husband was not a very happy person but she adored him until the day he died.

Money worries. For so many it is money, the lack of money, it's never having too much, is it?

Another friend lost her husband and has four kids to rear. The oldest is fifteen, youngest six. How will she do this alone? The loneliness--in the midst of the noise, the scheduling headache with the four kids in sports and music and homework and of them missing their dad--is almost unbearable.

One woman's husband divorced her, he lives high, with a new house, new wife, new life. He knows how to manipulate the system, She lives in poverty with constant stress, going back to school and hopes she can earn enough to live humbly, at best.

Another has a child doing dangerous or illegal things; many are dealing with this.

One's wife has Alzheimer's, he is her caregiver and has health problems of his own. Will she out live him? He wants to care for her until the end, but will he go first?

Another invested her retirement with a scoundrel and lost it all. He probably isn't a real scoundrel, he probably thought he could do well for her but he didn't, and now she has nothing. Now she is older, in poverty. She needs to work but is older, and tired, and discouraged.

Ill health abounds.

This is just the ones I can think of without straining my poor little brain too much. I know that many--that I think are blessed--are nursing worries and fears and hurts that I don't know about.

Fears.

Faith.

Hope.

But also reality.

Most of these people have faith, but some still have some fear. We know that fear and faith cannot exist at the same time. So, if you have faith, can you see, out of the corner of your eye, a wisp of fear? And, if you see a wisp of fear has the faith departed like a freight train?

The pain of divorce, death, an uncertain future...what to do?

Let go? Tell Father to let the Savior carry your hurts? Yes, sounds easy but it isn't, is it? But what other option do we have? We can work hard. We can eat better so the disease doesn't have a running start--I'm REALLY speaking to myself here. We can prepare for the future. We can love those who will let us, help those who we can, and when we need help, we can be gracious and let others help us.

The best relief I know of is prayer. And faith. And stomp on the fear until it smolders. And then...my personal favorite, have friends like I have who say, "All is well." And believe it. I have a friend like that, more than one--several actually, but one in particular who says, "All is well," and when she says it, I calm down and feel better.

Years ago, I was pregnant, at age 42. I worried. I knew the statistics. A dear friend who I will call Pammie, because that is her name--sort of--said, "There is NOTHING wrong with that baby!" She was the voice of authority and I believed her and quit worrying and the pregnancy was easier. Way easier. There was nothing wrong with the baby--that baby is Her Excellency of Mousehole and she is beautiful and smart and funny and I adore her. But what if there had been something wrong? I would have had several months of no fear, no worries, and then I could have faced the problems when they came, instead of anticipating them all along.

What am I saying? Have faith. Be strong. Don't worry. Is it possible to have faith and not worry and then, when, and if we have to face hard times we will be rested and ready? In the meantime let the Savior handle it. He says he can and wants to. So let's believe him. Let's believe him and be his helpers when others need our strength.

I hope all of your are handling what you have in your life right now. If not, I hope you will have faith and I hope that you have a friend who can give you the love you need and the words to give you courage to get through this time with dignity and grace or even with slobbering tears if you need to do that. I've done my share of that, too--it was not a pretty sight but my friends stood by my ugliness with encouragement. They listened. Sometimes they gave advice but mostly they listened and said things like "There, there." It's nice when you have friends, who will just listen and say, "There, there."

Will you believe me if I say I am sending my love to you, even if I don't know you? I am, I hope it will help in some small way or maybe even in a large one, like it does when my friends say they love me, when Phil says he loves me and when they all say, "Don't worry, all is well."

I love you. Be comforted. Let the Savior carry your burden, just for today, just for tonight, just this week. You can pick it up later if you want, but let Him carry it today.

WHO ARE WE, REALLY?

Yesterday, some of the grandkids came here after school. Here is Hollywood, being given a hug by her mom.

Do all kids do this, swing their feet off the floor when hugging a parent?

The kids had an afternoon snack and then got right to their homework. Here's Mary Poppins.

This is Jo Cool.

His older brother, Guitar Hero.

And since Hollywood is in preschool, she just laid back on the couch and watched TV or played. Her homework time is coming.

I wonder who they will become. Will they grow up and do great things or be just ordinary? Will they save the world, save the rain forests or save the dolphins?

And which is best anyway? Doing great things, saving something? Could ordinary be just as important?

I watched Oprah today, parts of three shows I had recorded. When movie stars came on stage the audience went wild. A couple of women in the audience looked like they were going to faint from excitement. Would they have done the same if they had hung around after the show and someone came out with a push broom and swept up the studio floor? Not likely. And why not?

We are all children of God. We are children of GOD! All of us. We were worthy to be born here, to have this earthly experience and then one day to return to him. Not all of us will have it easy. Not all of us will make women in the audience faint. Some of us will only hear the sounds of crickets when it is our turn to walk on stage.

Which brings me back to these four children. They will each choose different things to do in life. Will one feel more important than the other? Will one be happy for the other, watching the other do something that the world will applaud? Will they be jealous or petty? Or will they be genuinely happy for the success of each other? Will they stay close and loving or will they all go their separate ways and not see much of each other? Isn't staying close as a family part of success?

And what defines success anyway? Why do we let the "world" define what success is when we have our Heavenly Father cheering us on, when He knows we are doing what the two of us probably discussed before we left Him?

And why do we forget? We are important, each of us. We are doing important things, even if we are doing stupid stuff. We learn by doing stupid stuff. Some of us-cough,beenthere,donethat,cough-have to do lots of stupid stuff to learn. Then we go on to lead ordinary lives but I think our Heavenly Father doesn't count us as ordinary. I think He stands on the sidelines, cheering and clapping. "Way to go, daughter. Way to go, son." When we stumble and fall I think he says something like, "It's okay. You are going to be all right."

So, tonight, if you are feeling unimportant--if you are feeling crummy about yourself or think you don't count then I am the voice on the Internet saying you are important. You are a child of God. That's better than being the child of a King or the child of the President of a country. There isn't anything more important that that. There isn't anyone more important than you. It doesn't matter what you have accomplished or not. You are valuable and your Heavenly Father cherishes you. He adores you. You are going to be all right.

This is what I believe. I hope you do too.

Now, because I am human I will be down on myself from time to time so when that happens will you spit this back at me? I promise to do the same for you. Except for the spitting part. That just isn't tidy.

MINI CLASSES AND BARNACLES

Earlier today I went to a mini-class. Because of the snow there were only three of us but it was a great opportunity to sit with two lovely women and talk for two hours. Tomorrow is the book club, which I will have to miss because Gilmore Girl is coming in--from Outer Mongolia--to shop for Curley Sue's birthday presents and I will meet her at Target. I hate to miss a mini-class. Phil said I would go to a class on cow birthing and I said I most certainly would not. He said yes I would because there might be friends there and so I would go.

The mini classes are relatively new women's programs in our church. In "the olden days," we had Enrichment once a month. It is really called "Home, Family and Personal Enrichment," but that's such a mouthful. I was the Enrichment Leader for two and a half years and it was a big job. Once a month we had a dinner and a program or activity. Then the church said to only hold Enrichment meetings four times a year but to hold mini-classes on the other months.

This program truly was inspired. I see new friendships being formed, good, deep, lasting ones that would not have been possible before.

My favorite mini class is the personal history one. I thought I was writing my story for my children but I found out that I am not writing for my children I am writing for me--to understand who I am. I have found out things about myself that I didn't know. For instance, I have a deeper faith in the Savior than I realized. I have a deeper faith in me, too. I like who I am even if I am getting older, am not at the weight I should be, I'm not as smart as I should be, or as disciplined as I should be, or as funny, or as pretty, or as fit, courageous, tolerant and sometimes I don't seem to even be as mentally stable as a horse fly. I wonder why I like myself, with all these flaws, hanging onto me like barnacles on a boat bottom.

What are barnacles anyway? A truly intelligent person not only knows exactly what barnacles are but probably has some nifty ideas for using barnacle carcasses that have been scraped off boat bottoms. I'll bet you, whoever you are, have an idea for using barnacle scrapings that would boost the economy and advance world peace. I hope you like yourself as much as I like myself because someone like you, with a great barnacle idea, and all your other nifty qualities, certainly should. And even if none of us had nifty qualities we should still like ourselves. It's an insult to our Father in Heaven if we don't.

So let's do it--really like ourselves, really love ourselves--and learn about barnacles and boost the economy and advance world peace. What do you say?

LIZA'S BAPTISM AND SOME RAMBLING

This is a picture of my granddaughter, who was baptized today. She is barefoot because by the time we got to her house, after the baptism, she had already changed out of her church clothes and I made her change back so I could take a picture. She looks like she's trying to be patient with me, doesn't she? She really wants to go play with her cousins.

Her Dad had changed too and I made him change back. I'm bossy that way.

He baptized and confirmed her a member of the church and gave her the gift of the Holy Ghost. I gave a talk on the Holy Ghost before the baptism. I tried to make it simple for her and another darling little boy who was being baptized too. It was a beautiful day for us and for Liza. I am so happy for her.

She will do well in this life. She is a sensitive little soul, very caring, very loving and a hard worker. And loved by her Daddy.

Here is my son, mugging for the camera with Phil. He's such a joker, my boy. As you can see, Phil loves it.

I'd show you the picture of me but, sadly, I look my age and it makes me ill so there will be no illness here today.

This is the backyard. I am so happy to learn how to download pictures that I take pictures of everything, except for my old self. This is the arbor that one of my other sons, Bentley and his new wife, Trisha, stood in front of at their wedding reception a year ago last August. It was so hot we thought we'd die and now look at it.

That's the way things are. You can hardly stand whatever you are going through, sometimes--not the wedding , it was a wonderful thing--but I'm speaking metaphorically here--I got off on this tangent remembering the heat at the reception.

So, you are going through a bad time, a hard trial, maybe, you are despondent and sad or anxious or however you experience tough times. I get a horrible anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach and I imagine the worst. Then, six months later, you have gotten through that time and you look back and can think of it differently. I often am able to write about times of stress with humor, later--not that I'm successful at the humor but you know what I mean, at least I can see it differently. Some people can't. They never let go. They remember and are angry or sad or hurt or whatever it is that they feel justified about.

I am sad to have to admit that I am that way too with some things and wish I weren't. My birth dad got on a private plane in a blizzard when I wasn't quite two years old, with my mom pleading for him not to go. The plane crashed and she never saw him alive again. I have been living with that abandonment all my life. Angry at times, hurt at others, feeling like I was not important. I have got to learn to let it go. To realize that he, my birth father, has other responsibilities. One of them may be to watch over me, to whisper in my ear when I need help or comfort. Do I realize that? Now, as I'm writing this, I do, but not as I live my life, realizing I didn't know him, wasn't taught by him, didn't learn the things that he held dear.

Well, I had no idea this post was going this direction. Maybe I needed to think this through a bit. I really do need to let it go and not feel cheated. Mom did remarry and Daddy loved me with all his heart. He was a good father, he even taught me to drive my sister's Army jeep which is more than any father should have to do. That is another story for another time. What a dear, patient, Daddy he was.

Okay, enough of that. This is the arbor up close.

And Chloe, who lives outside and loves it. I wanted to take a picture of of Pinky--the cat--with Kate, the four-year-old, but Pinky was asleep on the arm of the couch and Kate somersaulted onto the couch and flipped Pinky, head over tail, right on the floor. Poor now-awake Pinky was frozen, wondering how he got to the floor. Walter, the pup was banned to Chloe's doghouse until all the company was gone so no pictures of him either.

This last one I loved for no reason.

Have a great Sunday one and all. Thanks for stopping by and wading through my pictures and odd thoughts.

A VACANT MIND

My mind is a blank. Nothing to say. Tired. Worried. A touch of sadness. Overwhelmed by the preparation that still is undone.

But...the living room is finally decorated, clean, beautiful. And you know why? Because our home teachers were coming today so we worked like mad to finish. They were impressed. If they had looked in the kitchen they would have seen all the huge Rubbermaid containers filled with tissue paper that wrapped the ornaments, etc. If they had looked downstairs they would have seen the stacks of magazines and books that I don't know what to do with. Why am I a packrat?

Tonight's dishes are still in the sink, if they had looked they would have seen them.

The spare room is filled with gifts still in bags. The goodies are mostly made but I have more caramels and another batch of fudge and those pesky Russian Teacakes to make more of so I guess the goodies are NOT almost made. All these goodies are not mailed to Aunt Dorothy yet. I better hurry.

We have 42 bags of caramels to deliver. I don't have all of the caramels made yet. I better hurry. I am going to tell people to put them in the freezer until March when there will be a caramel shortage.

A man in our ward is sick and in the hospital. I am worried about him.

My friend is in a care center and it looks like it's just not her physical health that is in trouble. She said some odd things to me while I was there the other day. I'm worried about her.

My daughter's sister-in-law, who is pregnant with twins may loose one. Or both. We fasted an prayed for her today. Please take just a moment and say a prayer for her. Heavenly Father knows who she is, you won't need her name. I am praying for a miracle. I am NOT worrying, I am holding positive, healthy thoughts for those babies that she and her husband want so very much. I want to see them born, healthy and normal. I want to hold them and coo over them and tell her they are the most beautiful babies I have ever seen. I am holding that picture in my mind.

Oh, my. So many heavy things on my mind tonight. I need to let them go, give them to the Savior. He said he will take them. The worries. The sadness. The hurts. The anxiety. He will take them all. I just need to let them go.

PS FOR YESTERDAY'S FLEETING HAPPINESS POST

Don't feel sorry for me. I'm not sad or depressed. The "happy" I was talking about was/is pure joy. I have felt it a few times in my life. I think this is how we felt when we lived with our Heavenly parents before coming here, to earth life. I think this was the state we lived in, pure joy.

I have felt that joy a few times in my life. The most memorable one was after I lost a baby. I was five month pregnant and the baby died. He was perfect. The doctor couldn't find anything wrong. I could not heal. I grieved. There is nothing more powerful to say than to say I grieved. If you have ever lost a child you will understand.

In prayer I finally asked Heavenly Father if I could just see my child. That night, in a dream, my oldest child, Trent, brought the baby, Stephen, to me. The baby was dressed in a blue, footed sleeper. He had dark hair, like my other children had had--this was before my blond haired, blue eyed Bentley was born. Trent gave Stephen to me and my whole being was flooded with joy. It is my most precious memory.

That's the joy I'm talking about. That's the joy that comes so rarely. That's the joy we lived with, I think, when we lived with our Heavenly parents. That's the joy I miss. Maybe you miss it too.

WHERE DOES THE HAPPY GO?

Tonight, while watching the Tabernacle Choir on TV I all of a sudden got a warm burst of happiness. It felt so good, so normal, like that is how I should feel every minute of every day. I think that is how we felt when we lived with Heavenly Father before coming to earth. Not all people believe that but I do and I think we were perfectly joyful.

Earth life is hard because we don't remember Heaven and we aren't able to know that no matter what happens here we will be all right. That we will be united with our Heavenly parents and our earthly parents too. It's hard to remember that when it's cold and dark and you worry about so many things.

Phil always says faith and fear cannot coexist. He's right.

Today I taught part of the lesson in Relief Society. I told the sisters how much I miss my mother. I told them I think she is with me a lot of the time, that angels are with all of us. We can't see them but they are there. I wish I were in tune enough to see my angels. Tonight, right now, when it's so dark and cold outside and I am missing my mom and the happy has fled. It would be comforting.