A neighbor called last night at a quarter to eleven and asked if she could come over and visit--my lights were still on and she knows I'm somewhat of a night owl. She did come over, and I offered her a piece of Costco chocolate cake--you know the one, the four layers of decadence? She said yes, and then she only ate about a third of it. Who eats a third of a slice of Costco chocolate cake?
We talked until five minutes to 1:00 when her husband came to walk her home. All of a sudden he appeared, like a silent ghost, showing up suddenly through the screen door, and nearly frightened me to death.
Today, this friend--who still has all of her children at home, so you know she can't just sleep in on a Sunday morning, like I can (thank goodness for one o'clock church)--did NOT fall asleep during Sunday School class, like I did.
Now I ask you, is it fair that someone should be so wonderful--she really is, totally wonderful--and has the self control to not eat a full piece of Costco cake, and has enough energy to stay awake and alert and even make comments in Sunday School class and Relief Society, and her comments were totally coherent, intelligent and relevant, is this fair?
I don't think so either.
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
Showing posts with label church. Show all posts
Monday, August 8, 2011
Sunday, July 17, 2011
REALLY? AGAIN.
Today in church the little cherub in front of us--really she is a cherub--she's two years old, has dark curly hair, sparkling eyes, cheeks that are so red you think she's been into her mother's blush and if that weren't enough, when she smiles, she has dimples!
Anyway, today she was hi-fiving her sister and brothers and it was so funny. Her parents were trying to shush her but her siblings were very obliging. "Matthew," she'd say, "give me five!" And Matthew would give her five. She went through all of them and I was so enjoying it all. (And I was listening to the talks, too, and they were excellent--every mother on the planet is a multi-tasker.)
Then, all of a sudden she starting crying, "Kill Bill!" Now, for some reason (and the reason is: Elizabeth made me do it) I have seen Kill Bill and Kill Bill two, or at least parts of both of them. We do have TV Guardian so the bad language is taken out but the rest of it...oh my.
"Kill Bill!" the Cherub called again and again.
I was holding my breath, wondering what her parents were going to do.
Her mom, casually handed over a stuffed pink bear.
"Oh, Ca-ouh Beauh," she said, "Ca-ouh Beauh," she said, holding the well loved bear to her little face.
Really, Lynne. "Care Bear," and "Kill Bill" do NOT sound the same. And in church, yet, you think a sweetie pie, cherub girl is crying vengeance on Bill.
Really?
I need more sleep. Or a daughter who delights in the Hallmark channel, and not in horror movies. Or something.
PS She says it's not a horror movie but, believe me, it's certainly not Disney.
Anyway, today she was hi-fiving her sister and brothers and it was so funny. Her parents were trying to shush her but her siblings were very obliging. "Matthew," she'd say, "give me five!" And Matthew would give her five. She went through all of them and I was so enjoying it all. (And I was listening to the talks, too, and they were excellent--every mother on the planet is a multi-tasker.)
Then, all of a sudden she starting crying, "Kill Bill!" Now, for some reason (and the reason is: Elizabeth made me do it) I have seen Kill Bill and Kill Bill two, or at least parts of both of them. We do have TV Guardian so the bad language is taken out but the rest of it...oh my.
"Kill Bill!" the Cherub called again and again.
I was holding my breath, wondering what her parents were going to do.
Her mom, casually handed over a stuffed pink bear.
"Oh, Ca-ouh Beauh," she said, "Ca-ouh Beauh," she said, holding the well loved bear to her little face.
Really, Lynne. "Care Bear," and "Kill Bill" do NOT sound the same. And in church, yet, you think a sweetie pie, cherub girl is crying vengeance on Bill.
Really?
I need more sleep. Or a daughter who delights in the Hallmark channel, and not in horror movies. Or something.
PS She says it's not a horror movie but, believe me, it's certainly not Disney.
Monday, June 27, 2011
MEN DON'T GET IT
Yesterday we were both getting ready for church and of, course, I had misjudged how much I can get done in how much time--it takes me longer to fix things--like my face--so I don't scare small children and grown men don't faint at the sight, when Phil said, "Are you ready?"
"Almost," I said.
"How much 'almost more time' will it take you?"
I decided to shock him so I said, "I'm ready now!"
"Right," he said. "Do you have to get a drink of water? Put perfume on? Brush your teeth? Go to the bathroom? Paint your fingernails? Put your shoes on? Fuss with your hair one more time? Change your shoes because that pair looks better than this pair with that outfit? Put on your jewelry?"
So help me, I don't mean to put things off but some Sundays I look at my fingernails (as I'm practically going out the door) and there they are, one or two are chipped, even though the nail polish says, "Non chip." So I say, "wait just a minute," and I dash back in the house and dab fingernail polish on the offending nails and, honestly, it's things like this that drives Phil crazy.
Or I say, "Wait just a minute, I need a drink of water," or "I can't find my perfume." More crazy for poor Phil.
One day I went to church with eye makeup on only one eye, and I made him bring me home. He couldn't understand why. A man who can't understand why a woman wouldn't go anywhere with eye makeup on only one eye can't understand a lot of things.
I started to say, "Just a minute, I need to..." and then I looked at his smug face. I knew he wouldn't understand the need to remove the toenail polish that was smudged on my big toe. He knew I wasn't ready to go out the door, and he was baiting me.
So, I said, "I'm ready now," even though there was the big toe smudgy polish that needed to be removed, and I really needed a drink of water, and I didn't have perfume on yet, and I probably would have gone to the bathroom (because even the grandchildren know that is my rule: go to the bathroom before you leave the house!). If he didn't have that smug face I would have taken care of all those things and we would still have been on time for church.
As it was we were the fourth and fifth people there. The organist wasn't even playing the prelude music yet.
So, I visited with the second and third people there, and then, as other people came in, I visited with them too, and I just barely made it back to my seat before church officially started.
And my friends looked at my smudgy big toe and said, "there, there." Women really understood the truly important things in life and know that there are a an infinite number of things a woman has to do before leaving the house.
I don't think men will ever understand. And that's why men are so smug and yet they wear the same suit and tie 25 weeks out of the year and women are sometimes late for things, like church, but always have a different outfit on, with matching fingernail polish, and coordinating jewelry. And we smell good.
"Almost," I said.
"How much 'almost more time' will it take you?"
I decided to shock him so I said, "I'm ready now!"
"Right," he said. "Do you have to get a drink of water? Put perfume on? Brush your teeth? Go to the bathroom? Paint your fingernails? Put your shoes on? Fuss with your hair one more time? Change your shoes because that pair looks better than this pair with that outfit? Put on your jewelry?"
So help me, I don't mean to put things off but some Sundays I look at my fingernails (as I'm practically going out the door) and there they are, one or two are chipped, even though the nail polish says, "Non chip." So I say, "wait just a minute," and I dash back in the house and dab fingernail polish on the offending nails and, honestly, it's things like this that drives Phil crazy.
Or I say, "Wait just a minute, I need a drink of water," or "I can't find my perfume." More crazy for poor Phil.
One day I went to church with eye makeup on only one eye, and I made him bring me home. He couldn't understand why. A man who can't understand why a woman wouldn't go anywhere with eye makeup on only one eye can't understand a lot of things.
I started to say, "Just a minute, I need to..." and then I looked at his smug face. I knew he wouldn't understand the need to remove the toenail polish that was smudged on my big toe. He knew I wasn't ready to go out the door, and he was baiting me.
So, I said, "I'm ready now," even though there was the big toe smudgy polish that needed to be removed, and I really needed a drink of water, and I didn't have perfume on yet, and I probably would have gone to the bathroom (because even the grandchildren know that is my rule: go to the bathroom before you leave the house!). If he didn't have that smug face I would have taken care of all those things and we would still have been on time for church.
As it was we were the fourth and fifth people there. The organist wasn't even playing the prelude music yet.
So, I visited with the second and third people there, and then, as other people came in, I visited with them too, and I just barely made it back to my seat before church officially started.
And my friends looked at my smudgy big toe and said, "there, there." Women really understood the truly important things in life and know that there are a an infinite number of things a woman has to do before leaving the house.
I don't think men will ever understand. And that's why men are so smug and yet they wear the same suit and tie 25 weeks out of the year and women are sometimes late for things, like church, but always have a different outfit on, with matching fingernail polish, and coordinating jewelry. And we smell good.
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
A BUCKET OF WEEDS
Last night our home teacher came and gave us our lesson on the lawn swings. Soon neighbors started joining us and we visited for a long time.
One neighbor gave me a great mental image to use in my life. She mentioned that at the end of the day her dad always asked, "Did you get your bucket of weeds today?" This became a habit and she still does this, she pulls a bucket of weeds and her yard is never overrun, it is always tidy, the roses have room to bloom as do her other flowers, not to mention her wonderful garden.
Spiritual Bucket. We try to read the scriptures in the morning before our day starts but it doesn't always get done. So simple, a few minutes prepares us for the day and yet, some days our spiritual bucket is empty. We go to church every week and Phil is serving at a BYU ward but what about reading the scriptures every morning? I think I will start reading an Ensign article with Phil before bed, too.
My housekeeping bucket is neglected often. A little work each day and then there are no gigantic cleaning projects to tackle. I got into the habit of every time I used a paper towel I then used it to wipe up part of the kitchen floor. Soon the floor around the sink and stove was clean and I was wiping up the floor by the table and back door. When I neglected this simple task the floor needed major cleaning.
Food storage bucket. I learned from my mother so it's second nature for me to have food storage. Most Mormon's do, as we have been counseled by our Prophet and church leaders on this subject for what seems like forever.
Family bucket. This is a picture of two of my granddaughters having a two-and-a-half hour water fight out of a clean kitty litter bucket. (I'm eventually going to blog about this.) It took some convincing to get Hillary to drop off her girls because she was busy that day, but four of the grandchildren eventually ended up at my house--for eleven hours--and it was fun for them and fun for me too. 
I hope they will always remember that day with their cousins and grandma. This is an area I really need to work on. I don't have the kids here often enough. 
Just plain Fun Bucket. We need more of this. The other day I said to Phil, "I want to do something fun." He asked what, and I honestly couldn't think of anything we could afford. Two days later some friends brought us a vacation package. A night's stay in Salt Lake City at a cool hotel that brings you a goldfish so you can have a pet for the night, a dinner gift card for the Roof restaurant at the Joseph Smith Memorial Building, and a gift card for a fantastic breakfast!
One neighbor gave me a great mental image to use in my life. She mentioned that at the end of the day her dad always asked, "Did you get your bucket of weeds today?" This became a habit and she still does this, she pulls a bucket of weeds and her yard is never overrun, it is always tidy, the roses have room to bloom as do her other flowers, not to mention her wonderful garden.Last night, before we had family prayer, I mentioned to Phil that pulling just one bucket of weeds was pretty simple. Day in, day out, simple but the rewards are huge. Then I started thinking, we should do that with all aspects of our lives.
Spiritual Bucket. We try to read the scriptures in the morning before our day starts but it doesn't always get done. So simple, a few minutes prepares us for the day and yet, some days our spiritual bucket is empty. We go to church every week and Phil is serving at a BYU ward but what about reading the scriptures every morning? I think I will start reading an Ensign article with Phil before bed, too.My housekeeping bucket is neglected often. A little work each day and then there are no gigantic cleaning projects to tackle. I got into the habit of every time I used a paper towel I then used it to wipe up part of the kitchen floor. Soon the floor around the sink and stove was clean and I was wiping up the floor by the table and back door. When I neglected this simple task the floor needed major cleaning.Food storage bucket. I learned from my mother so it's second nature for me to have food storage. Most Mormon's do, as we have been counseled by our Prophet and church leaders on this subject for what seems like forever. One year, as we were bottling yet another bushel of peaches, I innocently asked why my mother we had so much food storage--much more than we could eat in a year. She laughed and said, "Why, Lynne, it's for the Californians. When they have to leave California"--I don't know what she thought was going to happen--some catastrophe maybe--"they will be hungry and we will have the food to feed them?" That was that. She stored food and extra for others.
I would rather shop in my basement than have to run to the store for a forgotten item I need for dinner. I'm not perfect but I have a plan that I got from Liesa Card, who I met in Costco, peddling her book, I DARE YOU TO EAT IT. I like her blog, she has some cool ideas and it's not just all about storage but about her family as well. (Today's blog is "Frozen Hot Chocolate.") When I get my storage up to date I'll blog about it. I'm so excited to put her simple idea into a working plan. Already it has made my life easier.
Speaking of food storage plans I found another blog this morning that I'm excited to read. This girl even knows how to store cheese...for a long time. Article here. Her blog is Preparedness Pro There are lots and lots of blogs like this. What are your favorites?
Family bucket. This is a picture of two of my granddaughters having a two-and-a-half hour water fight out of a clean kitty litter bucket. (I'm eventually going to blog about this.) It took some convincing to get Hillary to drop off her girls because she was busy that day, but four of the grandchildren eventually ended up at my house--for eleven hours--and it was fun for them and fun for me too. I hope they will always remember that day with their cousins and grandma. This is an area I really need to work on. I don't have the kids here often enough. Just plain Fun Bucket. We need more of this. The other day I said to Phil, "I want to do something fun." He asked what, and I honestly couldn't think of anything we could afford. Two days later some friends brought us a vacation package. A night's stay in Salt Lake City at a cool hotel that brings you a goldfish so you can have a pet for the night, a dinner gift card for the Roof restaurant at the Joseph Smith Memorial Building, and a gift card for a fantastic breakfast!This is a picture of the Salt Lake Temple from the Roof restaurant. 
We were flabbergasted. We were, and are excited. They have filled my fun bucket with anticipation. We haven't decided when to go but looking forward to it is half the fun. Can you imagine? They are like Santa Claus and the Good Fairy, all rolled up into one. And no, I'm not going to tell you who it was. You can look at all my friends and imagine they are the ones. Won't that be fun?
We were flabbergasted. We were, and are excited. They have filled my fun bucket with anticipation. We haven't decided when to go but looking forward to it is half the fun. Can you imagine? They are like Santa Claus and the Good Fairy, all rolled up into one. And no, I'm not going to tell you who it was. You can look at all my friends and imagine they are the ones. Won't that be fun?What buckets do you fill on a regular basis?
Sunday, February 21, 2010
THINGS OVERHEARD AT CHRUCH TODAY
From two ten year old boys, walking down the hall, "Dude, that's the worst place you want to pass gas." (I never did hear where that place was so I'm being extra careful.)
From a grown woman who has teenagers, "I'm not saying my teen is Satan or anything..." and then she went on to tell us about his bad attitude. There was a lot of nodding of heads and sympathy, I can tell you.
"I'm telling you, I was busy this last week, it was a horrible week," said one woman who really needed a bit of sympathy and an arm around her shoulders. The person she was talking to, gave her a one-second half-smile and said, "Excuse me, excuse me," and pushed around people standing in the isle and made her getaway. I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt and not thinking she was insensitive. I think she had to pass gas.
One of the Sacrament meeting speakers is from Australia. He said, "When the Polynesian people say, 'Aloha,' the audience usually greets them back with an 'Aloha.' 'G'day,' doesn't seem to get the same response." Then he said, "G'day," and most of us in the audience said, "G'day" back. He was surprised, I think.
"I'm down to my last caramel," said the older gentleman. I know he's fishing for more but I feel responsible for his health. He has diabetes and when I gave him a dozen caramels for Christmas--and told him he could eat one a day--he ate eleven of them before nightfall! The only reason he's not dead is he saved one to taunt me with.
"I'm thinking that Heavenly Father is having a good laugh about the mess I've gotten myself into." I think it's a good thing to bring humor to Heavenly Father. He's probably laughing his head off.
Now my mind has gone blank. I had several funny things to tell you but they are gone, kind of like gas.
From a grown woman who has teenagers, "I'm not saying my teen is Satan or anything..." and then she went on to tell us about his bad attitude. There was a lot of nodding of heads and sympathy, I can tell you.
"I'm telling you, I was busy this last week, it was a horrible week," said one woman who really needed a bit of sympathy and an arm around her shoulders. The person she was talking to, gave her a one-second half-smile and said, "Excuse me, excuse me," and pushed around people standing in the isle and made her getaway. I'm giving her the benefit of the doubt and not thinking she was insensitive. I think she had to pass gas.
One of the Sacrament meeting speakers is from Australia. He said, "When the Polynesian people say, 'Aloha,' the audience usually greets them back with an 'Aloha.' 'G'day,' doesn't seem to get the same response." Then he said, "G'day," and most of us in the audience said, "G'day" back. He was surprised, I think.
"I'm down to my last caramel," said the older gentleman. I know he's fishing for more but I feel responsible for his health. He has diabetes and when I gave him a dozen caramels for Christmas--and told him he could eat one a day--he ate eleven of them before nightfall! The only reason he's not dead is he saved one to taunt me with.
"I'm thinking that Heavenly Father is having a good laugh about the mess I've gotten myself into." I think it's a good thing to bring humor to Heavenly Father. He's probably laughing his head off.
Now my mind has gone blank. I had several funny things to tell you but they are gone, kind of like gas.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
A PERSONAL HISTORY STORY--BEING THE CHORISTER IN CHURCH
When I was growing up, our church chorister, Clara, was a woman with perfect posture who wielded the baton with precision. She often stopped singing but expected the audience to continue. Her lips would disappear into a thin line. Her baton would make jerky stabs in the air.
We must not be singing right, I thought. She's mad at us. I thought her baton stabbing movements were personal. She wants to hurt us.
When I was asked to be the chorister--in my Junior year of high school--I thought if I did nothing more than look pleasant and actually sing with the audience I would be ahead of the game. Looking pleasant wasn't all that hard, it was the singing with the audience that was perplexing.
This was because of a problem I've suffered with all my life: "Mind Wandering Disease." I would start out okay and then, about the third or fourth verse I suddenly couldn't remember if it were the third or the fourth verse because I was thinking about boys. There I was, the great musical leader, not knowing what words to sing.
Luckily there was a man in the audience who was a great enunciator. I, even with my feeble mind-wandering brain, could read his lips. He sat on the left side of the middle row, four rows up from the back. When I got in trouble I would immediately find him and then I'd know what verse we were on. Because of this man, I avoided ending the song after the third verse or expecting another verse after the last one.
It hadn't occurred to me until this very minute that maybe Clara--with all her thin-lipped behavior--may not have been mad at us at all. Maybe she lost track of what verse we were on too. Too bad she didn't have my secret weapon, the man four rows up from the back.
Which leads me to this conclusion: Do not judge.
And, as an added bonus: Don't assume other people are judging you. Their behavior may be a product of their having lost their way.
And one more thing: Be grateful for other people. That man never knew what a blessing he was to me. I should have told him. I can't even remember his name and yet he was an important part of my Sundays for two mind-wandering years.
We must not be singing right, I thought. She's mad at us. I thought her baton stabbing movements were personal. She wants to hurt us.
When I was asked to be the chorister--in my Junior year of high school--I thought if I did nothing more than look pleasant and actually sing with the audience I would be ahead of the game. Looking pleasant wasn't all that hard, it was the singing with the audience that was perplexing.
This was because of a problem I've suffered with all my life: "Mind Wandering Disease." I would start out okay and then, about the third or fourth verse I suddenly couldn't remember if it were the third or the fourth verse because I was thinking about boys. There I was, the great musical leader, not knowing what words to sing.
Luckily there was a man in the audience who was a great enunciator. I, even with my feeble mind-wandering brain, could read his lips. He sat on the left side of the middle row, four rows up from the back. When I got in trouble I would immediately find him and then I'd know what verse we were on. Because of this man, I avoided ending the song after the third verse or expecting another verse after the last one.
It hadn't occurred to me until this very minute that maybe Clara--with all her thin-lipped behavior--may not have been mad at us at all. Maybe she lost track of what verse we were on too. Too bad she didn't have my secret weapon, the man four rows up from the back.
Which leads me to this conclusion: Do not judge.
And, as an added bonus: Don't assume other people are judging you. Their behavior may be a product of their having lost their way.
And one more thing: Be grateful for other people. That man never knew what a blessing he was to me. I should have told him. I can't even remember his name and yet he was an important part of my Sundays for two mind-wandering years.
Sunday, August 30, 2009
A BLOG ABOUT NOTHING. AGAIN.
I have decided that in yesterday's post I should have written "melty tastiness," not "melty goodness"--as in "good for you." I don't want to deceive anyone about the nutritional value of candy bars. Just wanted to set the record straight.
Lasagna and salad and French bread--that is my all time favorite meal. Today, before leaving for church, I put together a lasagna and left a note for Phil to put it in the oven after he got home from his BYU ward. I walked into the house to the most heavenly smell.
A salad made with fresh cucumbers and fresh tomatoes from the garden can go from good to wonderful if you put a bunch of marinated artichoke hearts on it. If you live anywhere near BYU's Creamery on 9th and can get their ranch dressing it takes that salad from wonderful to fantastic. Just sayin' in case you live close. If you don't live close, forget I said that part.
It doesn't matter how old you get, you still want the best for your children and you still think of them as children, not as men or women. They were, and always will be, your precious little ones.
If we could be a nation of strong families, we would be a strong nation. We must do what we can to keep our families intact, to teach them correct principles, and to teach them to serve.
If you don't have anyone to sit by in church you are lonely no matter how full the chapel is. Luckily I had people to sit by today, except for Sunday School. I sat by a man I didn't even know--how does that happen? He promptly went to sleep. He did not snore.
It is good to sit in Relief Society and not be up front, conducting. It is nice to know someone else is in charge of Enrichment. I will go to Enrichment in September and have no responsibilities for the first time in seven years!
I told you this was a blog about nothing. I have things to say but am going to say them on my Starlight blog and on a different night as I'm going to bed now. I hope everyone is tucked in and hope you all remembered to floss your teeth and say your prayers.
Goodnight.
Lasagna and salad and French bread--that is my all time favorite meal. Today, before leaving for church, I put together a lasagna and left a note for Phil to put it in the oven after he got home from his BYU ward. I walked into the house to the most heavenly smell.
A salad made with fresh cucumbers and fresh tomatoes from the garden can go from good to wonderful if you put a bunch of marinated artichoke hearts on it. If you live anywhere near BYU's Creamery on 9th and can get their ranch dressing it takes that salad from wonderful to fantastic. Just sayin' in case you live close. If you don't live close, forget I said that part.
It doesn't matter how old you get, you still want the best for your children and you still think of them as children, not as men or women. They were, and always will be, your precious little ones.
If we could be a nation of strong families, we would be a strong nation. We must do what we can to keep our families intact, to teach them correct principles, and to teach them to serve.
If you don't have anyone to sit by in church you are lonely no matter how full the chapel is. Luckily I had people to sit by today, except for Sunday School. I sat by a man I didn't even know--how does that happen? He promptly went to sleep. He did not snore.
It is good to sit in Relief Society and not be up front, conducting. It is nice to know someone else is in charge of Enrichment. I will go to Enrichment in September and have no responsibilities for the first time in seven years!
I told you this was a blog about nothing. I have things to say but am going to say them on my Starlight blog and on a different night as I'm going to bed now. I hope everyone is tucked in and hope you all remembered to floss your teeth and say your prayers.
Goodnight.
Sunday, July 26, 2009
I SANG ALTO TODAY AND I CAN'T SING ALTO
Today I sang alto, which amazed me because I don't know how. I've been a soprano all my life. But, today, for the first time in my life, I could sing alto.
My sister Patricia sang alto. Beautifully. I think she attended church with me today. It must have been her because I could find the alto notes and then, for the last song, they were gone. Naughty sister, didn't even stay around for the closing prayer.
When I get to Heaven I will ask to sing with her. I'll sing the soprano part and I'll bet I will be able to hit the high "E" again, effortlessly. I think we'll sound good together.
I miss her. I hope I can sing alto again.
My sister Patricia sang alto. Beautifully. I think she attended church with me today. It must have been her because I could find the alto notes and then, for the last song, they were gone. Naughty sister, didn't even stay around for the closing prayer.
When I get to Heaven I will ask to sing with her. I'll sing the soprano part and I'll bet I will be able to hit the high "E" again, effortlessly. I think we'll sound good together.
I miss her. I hope I can sing alto again.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
EMOTIONAL CLUTTER
Church today was wonderful. I love "Fast Sunday," when we fast two meals and give the money that would be used for those meals to help those in need. On Fast Sunday we have testimony meeting where members of the congregation can bear their testimonies. Also, the last ten minutes of Relief Society are reserved for that purpose.
Today, one of my dear friends bore her testimony in Relief Society. How I love her. She doesn't have an easy life. She is a single mom, retired, and she invested her retirement money with someone who lost it all, so she is living a very simple life--translation: poor. She won't accept help and carries on, always serving in the church with a cheerful heart. She is also in my personal history group and I love hearing what she writes. Her testimony strengthened me--made me cry and made me want to be a better person.
Someone in Relief Society today coined the phrase "Emotional Clutter." It may have been our visiting Stake Relief Society President or it may have been our 1st counselor--who gave an excellent lesson on "Peace,"--I'm not sure who it was but the idea was a good one.
The thought was when we worry, when we are hurt by something someone else says, when we feel inadequate or sad, this is all "emotional clutter," that clogs our life and hinders us from being the best we can be. The thought was for us to turn all those problems over to the Lord, who has promised to deal with them. (Matthew 11:30) "For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
Let's all purge our emotional clutter, even if just for one day. Let's turn all our worries, hurts, anxieties, fears, etc. over to the Savior. He has promised to take them; I know He will.
PS I found a quote that I like: "Feelings are much like waves, we can't stop them from coming but we can choose which one to surf." ~Jonatan Mårtensson
Today, one of my dear friends bore her testimony in Relief Society. How I love her. She doesn't have an easy life. She is a single mom, retired, and she invested her retirement money with someone who lost it all, so she is living a very simple life--translation: poor. She won't accept help and carries on, always serving in the church with a cheerful heart. She is also in my personal history group and I love hearing what she writes. Her testimony strengthened me--made me cry and made me want to be a better person.
Someone in Relief Society today coined the phrase "Emotional Clutter." It may have been our visiting Stake Relief Society President or it may have been our 1st counselor--who gave an excellent lesson on "Peace,"--I'm not sure who it was but the idea was a good one.
The thought was when we worry, when we are hurt by something someone else says, when we feel inadequate or sad, this is all "emotional clutter," that clogs our life and hinders us from being the best we can be. The thought was for us to turn all those problems over to the Lord, who has promised to deal with them. (Matthew 11:30) "For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."
Let's all purge our emotional clutter, even if just for one day. Let's turn all our worries, hurts, anxieties, fears, etc. over to the Savior. He has promised to take them; I know He will.
PS I found a quote that I like: "Feelings are much like waves, we can't stop them from coming but we can choose which one to surf." ~Jonatan Mårtensson
Sunday, March 15, 2009
DINNER AT GRANDMA'S
I haven't had any of the kids over for dinner since Christmas! I'm a horrible Mom. So today we had Kraut and The Soap Queen and their seven munchkins over. It was nice to have them all here. The kids were delightful and when they left I gave them all a bouncy ball. Here's some photos of their choices.
Oops, blogger is being obstinate. Photos tomorrow. That is if blogger is finished with it's snit.
Church was wonderful today. I will post some highlights, great tidbits, on Starlight later in the week, hopefully.
I feel so good after attending church. I love it. This was not always the case. When the kids were little we were ALWAYS hunting someone's shoes and by the time we got to church everyone was cranky. I could have eliminated the problem by doing the smart thing--getting ready the night before--but the night before I never thought about it. So it went, shoeless kids and frustrated mom and dad. Now the kids are gone and probably have their own shoeless Sundays.
I'd give almost anything to have the kids back, hunting shoes and being cranky at church for just one Sunday. So, I'm going to bed and think of each of them, all clean and ready for church and I'm going to remember looking down the row and loving them so much it hurt. I still love them so much it hurts but tonight I'm going to remember them with cowlicks, shirts buttoned wrong, shoelaces untied, remembering them being bored and drawing on the back of the Sacrament Meeting program, turning the page of the Hymn book to find the right page. No matter what page it was on they would start at hymn #1 and turn each page until they got to the page, even if it was 157 or 312. I learned to memorize the hymns as I couldn't count on reading them, that's for sure.
Have a great week and I hope blogger is being nicer to all of you.
Oops, blogger is being obstinate. Photos tomorrow. That is if blogger is finished with it's snit.
Church was wonderful today. I will post some highlights, great tidbits, on Starlight later in the week, hopefully.
I feel so good after attending church. I love it. This was not always the case. When the kids were little we were ALWAYS hunting someone's shoes and by the time we got to church everyone was cranky. I could have eliminated the problem by doing the smart thing--getting ready the night before--but the night before I never thought about it. So it went, shoeless kids and frustrated mom and dad. Now the kids are gone and probably have their own shoeless Sundays.
I'd give almost anything to have the kids back, hunting shoes and being cranky at church for just one Sunday. So, I'm going to bed and think of each of them, all clean and ready for church and I'm going to remember looking down the row and loving them so much it hurt. I still love them so much it hurts but tonight I'm going to remember them with cowlicks, shirts buttoned wrong, shoelaces untied, remembering them being bored and drawing on the back of the Sacrament Meeting program, turning the page of the Hymn book to find the right page. No matter what page it was on they would start at hymn #1 and turn each page until they got to the page, even if it was 157 or 312. I learned to memorize the hymns as I couldn't count on reading them, that's for sure.
Have a great week and I hope blogger is being nicer to all of you.
Sunday, September 28, 2008
WOMEN'S CONFERENCE AND THEN A "RELAXING" SUNDAY
Last night was the Women's Conference for the LDS Church. I went with Gilmore Girl to our Stake Center where we watched the broadcast. It was really nice. I wrote--in the dark--some of what I heard President Dieter F. Uchtdorf's say about creating and a bit of other stuff: Everyone can create. You don't have to have money or influence to create. To create is one of the yearnings of the human soul. You are spirit daughters of the most creative being in the Universe. Your spirit body is a masterpiece. Don't let the fear of failure discourage you. The more you rely on the Spirit the better you will be able to create. Be compassionate--lift up the hands that hang down. Those who bring sunshine to other's cannot keep it from themselves. Happiness is your heritage!
After the broadcast we met The Soap Queen at the Outback Steakhouse and I have one thing to say about the bloomin' onion, which I see on their website, is cut by a dedicated bloomologist. If you ever tire of your career you could take bloomology and become dedicated. The one thing I had to say was there is enough grease on that onion to slick up a cat so she could slip through a mouse hole. Who knows what it does to a human being's innards. It can't be good.
Can you tell he's thirteen? Every time I tried to take his picture he made a face.
Yes, he's a teenager, now.
After the broadcast we met The Soap Queen at the Outback Steakhouse and I have one thing to say about the bloomin' onion, which I see on their website, is cut by a dedicated bloomologist. If you ever tire of your career you could take bloomology and become dedicated. The one thing I had to say was there is enough grease on that onion to slick up a cat so she could slip through a mouse hole. Who knows what it does to a human being's innards. It can't be good.
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This is our Relief Society Bulletin.
It's usually only two pages but today it was four. I was supposed to print the bulletin and take it to church and give it to the librarian to make a copy for each sister. The problem is I couldn't open the file when Mary Jo sent it to me. She promised to send it in another form but it never came and then...taa daa...I forgot about it until after Sacrament meeting today.
I panicked and found Mary Jo, who is the nursery leader. "You've got to go home and resend it to me so I can print it off." We snagged the first woman who walked in the door and told her to watch the kids, give them a lesson and snacks and we flew. Well, we started to fly and then realized neither of us had a car at church. We grabbed the first woman we saw in the hall and she drove us to Mary Jo's house. Mary Jo sent me the attachment and then we flew to my house in Mary Jo's truck and when I way "flew" I mean flew. That girl drives!
But, my email program didn't have her email yet. It had to go all of six blocks. I guess it went by way of China, where they added something that causes kidney stones. I pushed "send and receive" twenty-'leven times. Still no email. Luckily she had her thumb drive and that worked. We printed it off and on the way out the door I slammed my skirt in door! 
After we freed me we flew again--really we did. I hung on like my life depended on it. We screeched into the parking lot at 2:40 and I got the bulletin to the library on time.
When I got home after church I checked email and her email and attachment came at 2:46. China had indeed added something but I didn't breathe or drink and I think I'm all right. Hack. Cough. Sputter.
After we freed me we flew again--really we did. I hung on like my life depended on it. We screeched into the parking lot at 2:40 and I got the bulletin to the library on time.When I got home after church I checked email and her email and attachment came at 2:46. China had indeed added something but I didn't breathe or drink and I think I'm all right. Hack. Cough. Sputter.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Then we went to Guitar Hero's house to take his birthday present--a sketch book, mechanical pencils, erasers, colored pencils that are erasable and other artish doo dads. 
Can you tell he's thirteen? Every time I tried to take his picture he made a face. Yes, he's a teenager, now. 
Happy Birthday, dear teenage, Guitar Hero. We love you very much. Come over and see us any time because you-know-who lives right next door and she thinks you are pretty cute. We do too, even with that ice-cream-tongue-syndrome you seem to have.
Stay clean, be good, and be happy. And know that you are loved!
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Then we came home and we got thirteen bags of caramels ready for the students who had birthdays in September in the BYU 20th ward so the Bishop could hand them out at Ward Prayer. Yes, I volunteered to do this. I will have to make about a thousand three-hundred caramels for the school year. Sometimes my volunteerism gets out of hand.
I hope everyone had a wonderful Sabbath and that it resembled the day of rest better than mine did.
But it's all good. It's always all good.
Wednesday, August 27, 2008
Sunday, August 24, 2008
DO BEE'S COME IN THE WINDOW AT YOUR CHURCH
Do bees come in the window at your church? They did in the church in the town were I grew up. My Grandfather was the bishop when the church was built. He was in on the planning and I think, actual building. The church house was beautiful. Ask me if I'm bitter about IT BEING TORN DOWN WHEN THE NEW CHURCH HOUSE WAS BUILT? No, you probably shouldn't ask.
On warm summer days all the windows would be wide open. The theory was that refreshing breezes would blow in. Instead, bees wandered in. Bee's it seems, work on the Sabbath. A bee would lazily circle the audience, searching for the elusive flower smell that brought the bee inside in the first place. Was it the woman with the discrete dab of "Evening in Paris" behind her ears? Perhaps the enticement was from the woman wearing "Shalimar" or some other little perfume with the words: Eau De Toilette added to the box. (That always sent us into hysterical laughter, almost as good as knowing one of the planets was called Uranus.) The little bee never could find the flowers so, after circling the audience a few times, it lazily flew out a different window. It wanted to give all the window-sitters equal opportunity.
Today's air conditioning leaves the opportunity for the flower seeking bee little choice but to follow the smell of "Gucci Envy Me," which smells like peonies and pomegranate, or "Bulgaria Blu Notte," which has the scent of dark chocolate, as far at the church door and that's it. Shut out! No bee's allowed.
Perhaps this is progress and perhaps it is not. None of the children I know have ever tracked the progress of a bee by watching all the swaying and ducking of the audience members. It was such fun. Okay, it was hot back then too, with the windows wide open and no air conditioning, but that's what made church going part of the sacrifice. God loves those who are hot and come to church anyway. Of course that's only my opinion, but still. If I were in charge I would definitely give points to sweaty church members.
And God loves the bees. He wanted to share them with us, I'm pretty sure. He's generous, that way.
On warm summer days all the windows would be wide open. The theory was that refreshing breezes would blow in. Instead, bees wandered in. Bee's it seems, work on the Sabbath. A bee would lazily circle the audience, searching for the elusive flower smell that brought the bee inside in the first place. Was it the woman with the discrete dab of "Evening in Paris" behind her ears? Perhaps the enticement was from the woman wearing "Shalimar" or some other little perfume with the words: Eau De Toilette added to the box. (That always sent us into hysterical laughter, almost as good as knowing one of the planets was called Uranus.) The little bee never could find the flowers so, after circling the audience a few times, it lazily flew out a different window. It wanted to give all the window-sitters equal opportunity.
Today's air conditioning leaves the opportunity for the flower seeking bee little choice but to follow the smell of "Gucci Envy Me," which smells like peonies and pomegranate, or "Bulgaria Blu Notte," which has the scent of dark chocolate, as far at the church door and that's it. Shut out! No bee's allowed.
Perhaps this is progress and perhaps it is not. None of the children I know have ever tracked the progress of a bee by watching all the swaying and ducking of the audience members. It was such fun. Okay, it was hot back then too, with the windows wide open and no air conditioning, but that's what made church going part of the sacrifice. God loves those who are hot and come to church anyway. Of course that's only my opinion, but still. If I were in charge I would definitely give points to sweaty church members.
And God loves the bees. He wanted to share them with us, I'm pretty sure. He's generous, that way.
Monday, May 26, 2008
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