Sunday Sharing

Sometimes I start thinking of God in His majesty and forget He's the same God who says, "But even the very hairs of your head are all numbered."  (Luke 12: 7)  I love that He loves us that much.

Today we drove to Juniper to see Nate.  (By "we" I mean me, Megan, and Gabby...  Just for the record, Nate, you know who loves you!)  Nate has been on the farm since the beginning of July, and I have missed my boy!

Today before we left to visit him I asked, "Do you miss us?"  

He said, "Yeah."  (Awwwwww......)

I said, "Are you homesick?"

He said, "No."

He loves it there.

I asked him how long he would stay if he could.

He said, "Until school starts."

I love that he loves it there, but I really, really wanted to see him, and in case you all missed it, there is a hint of him also missing us in the above conversation, enough that I knew I wanted to make the drive.

So we drove 2.5 hours north and 2.5 hours back home on a Sunday afternoon to spend 2 hours with Nate.  He drove us around Juniper, and told me stories of the things he's doing there.  He was also proud to show me his log book.  I took a few pictures, but this is my favorite entry:

He told me last week how one of the cats had died under Grandma's bush.  Grandma asked him to move it, so he did.  He's talked about it several times.  I loved that he noted those 5 minutes in his log.  

For some reason, when I drive to Juniper, my brain thinks in metaphors.  For the past several weeks I've been calling Nate, and checking in.  I talk to him.  I ask him if he needs anything.  I even sent him something he needed.  

Then when he was missing us just a little bit, and I was missing him, the mom in me couldn't not go.  Over the past several days as I've talked to him, he's asked about us coming.  Partly, he just wanted us to see him there and to show us what he's doing.  He wanted us close to see things we couldn't see in phone conversations.  He showed me a hill he drove down and told me the story of how quickly he had to discover how the brake and clutch work together to stop a heavy truck, and a few other unknowns of the farm.  When we left, Nate drove us from my parents house to the freeway, then jogged back to their house.  As he left to jog home, he let me hug him--not the stiff hug I got when he left a few weeks ago.  (Nate is my kiddo who is not a hugger...thank goodness a few others are!)  

Metaphor:  God from a distance is majesty.  He's love.  He's our anchor.  I talk to Him, and I travel through my days seeing Him only from a distance.  He asks if I need anything and sometimes He sends things I need.  But I love that amazing feeling that comes when He recognizes that I miss Him just a little more some days than I do others, and for just that little bit of time, He moves into my heart and lets me show Him around.  He shares with me in all the things I've been doing, and lets me show Him not just my joys, but my fears and hurt.  Then somehow by the time he leaves, I'm left with only warmth from His short stay.  I love that He loves and knows me and I know He longs to be close to me, as a parent does with a child.

And in another week we're bringing Nate home so we can have some family vacation time!

Building a Palace

Last blog post:  November 30th.  I think I'm slacking.

I just don't have blogging in me these days...

But I've been thinking a lot about this quote lately:

“Imagine yourself a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps you understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing, so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of; throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were going to be made into a decent little cottage, but He is building a palace.” — C. S. Lewis

I've said before that I'm not the world's most patient person, so construction projects that hurt a little aren't usually on my to-do list.  In fact, I'm fairly certain that I'd be content in a cottage.  Really.

I think of all those times I say, "I want to be more like the Savior," or "I know God's love is real."  I really do mean that.  I think...at least until the construction isn't going the way I imagined it would.  To be honest, I'm the type that imagines God standing by with his magic wand, gently waving it over me and transforming me into a Christ-like, compassionate, whole, perfect being.  You'd think I'd get by now it's not that way, but I still kind of stomp my foot and whine and say, "But this isn't what I had planned..."  

But I am thankful to He who knows better than I what I am becoming, even though I hate that familiar ache that comes with construction.

As far as not blogging a lot lately, I am going to use the "under construction" excuse.

But if I was blogging more, I would have shared how much joy has been in this Christmas just sharing it with Gabby (and I love how there can be joy in life, even when souls are under construction...God's gifts are good.)

This year we let Gabby choose decorations and she chose purple...all purple. 

(Dark pink is so 2010...see here.)

It actually turned out nice.

And it was a fun, incredible first to be with Gabby at a local festival when she sat on Santa's lap for the first time ever.

And the Nativity she set up this year was priceless...

She said everyone wanted to be as close to Baby Jesus as they could be.  

Love that girl.

And two days ago we celebrated one year with Gabby.  I posted this on facebook:  "A year ago today we walked into Prairie Winds Elementary School in Omaha, Nebraska as a family of 6 and walked out a few minutes later with Gabby as a family of 7. I'll never forget that feeling of looking at all of us together after those months of waiting, and knowing the rest of our lives together started right then! Happy Gotcha Day to Gabby!"

And of course there was a celebration at a buffet-style restaurant where the only thing on Gabby's plate was french fries and Ranch dressing.  She did also eat some pizza and ice cream.  (And Gabby's favorite quote of the day, "I don't have to do chores today because it's my special day.")

So there you have it...  Life marching on, which apparently is possible, even when we're under construction.

Sunday Sharing

Four days until Thanksgiving.  Two days until we leave for Moab.  Two days until Tim and I have been married 17 years...a lot happening this week!

Whenever we make a list of things we say we're thankful for when we put our kernels in our jar (see here), someone will inevitably say (as I'm writing things down), "Are you blogging about this?"


So are you ready for the world's longest list?  These were all said this year, mostly by our children.

Family, school, basketball, life, water, food, shelter, electricity, energy, renewable energy, entertainment, Lundburgs, pictures, scouting, memories, manners, Gabby and Joie (just for the record, Jeran said that), m&m's, slinkys, pets, cousins, Moab, Nathan and Jeran (and also for the record, Gabby said that), friends, school, no shots, junior high, volleyball, a clean garage, bikes, pie, Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Easter, chairs, Jason & Brooke, my teacher, bubble gum, choir, chips, rabbits, music, Juniper, Grandma & Grandpa Jarman, Grandma & Grandpa Campbell, Grandma Susan, Barcy and Jake, comforts of home, indoor plumbing, religious freedom, oxygen, "broccoli, celery, gotta be...Veggie Tales," angels, angel kisses, freckles, Mom's list making skills, lockers I can fit into, Pavithra, Janet, Plan of Salvation, sanitation, Youth Conference, Girl's Camp, "the Bishop-brick," toilets that flush, compassion, clothes, Jeran's puffy hair, Nate's wavy hair, exercise, super heros, the birds that fly into our roof and the mice that live in the cabin, orange jeans, Utes, education, SUU, USU, forks and spoons but not knives, fairies, princesses, ponies and unicorns (detect any teen sarcasm?), roast beef, haircuts, Costco, amoxicillin, Singlets (gum), puppies, kittens, rugby, soccer, prophets, memories, freedom, work, gas in our car, "all my doctors," (Nate is a much healthier kid this year than he was last year...so me too on the doctors, and amoxicillin...and health), candles, scriptures, nature, sleep, sunshine, cars, Nate driving soon, all kinds of weather, shampoo...

Then there's the list we started when I asked the kids to think about the quote I shared last week:  "What if you woke up today with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?"  It didn't take long for my very bright and witty children to turn the gratitude list that day into a wish list:  trampolines, a million dollars, Mom letting us watch Sponge Bob, Disney World vacation, genie and 5 wishes...  Aren't they so funny.

Moab, cousins, and beautiful weather, here we come!  We're leaving the turkey home this year because the weather looks gorgeous, and we'll be enjoying the bounties of nature in what I'm sure must be one of God's playgrounds.

(And just warning everyone who is coming with us to Moab...don't say "pilgrims and Indians," but you can say "pilgrims and Native Americans."  But just in case you mess up, Gabby will correct you.)

Sunday Sharing

Keeping on with our theme of thanksgiving and gratitude this month:  I heard this quote recently, and even though it would never happen, it makes me think a little.


"What if you woke up today with only the things you thanked God for yesterday?"


Of course my brain first went to the things I think I couldn't live without...  family, friends, home, food, water, air, clothing, employment, faith, sleep...

And other things I'm pretty sure I'd never want to live without...   freedom; the ability to move, speak, and think; employment that I love, safety and security, nature's abundant beauty, a dishwasher, a slow cooker (and Tim's mad, genius electronics skills that fixed the slow cooker.)

Then there are those little things...conveniences that I've come to depend on:  transportation, grocery stores stocked with every food item imaginable, my phone, kleenexes (which I used a lot of yesterday, thank you fall sniffles that have me feeling just...blah), great educational and extra-cirricular opportunities for my children, flushing toilets...  And did you ever stop to think about what would happen if the postal service or garbage man just stopped coming?

As our attempts to fill our gratitude jar before Thanksgiving continue, I'm thinking we could fill it in a day just thinking about those "little things" like the garbage man, slow cookers, and kleenexes.  We are so, so, so thankful for our families, friends, the gospel, the Savior...and inevitably those things make the gratitude list every time we put kernels in our gratitude jar...

But this week we are going to try thinking outside the box to give thanks for all those other things...the refrigerator, the furnace, gas stations, satellite TV...

Your turn.  What would make your list?

Sunday Sharing

All November, Sunday Sharing is going to be about gratitude and giving thanks.

"In every thing give athanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you."  1 Thessalonians 5:18

I remember during my 2nd year of college going through the motions of classes the final day before going home for Thanksgiving break.  I walked into my biology class, and the professor, Dr. Lyle Lowder, told everyone to put away our notebooks and not worry about taking notes that day.  He told us was devoting that particular day's lecture to talking with us about a life lesson that would serve us all well--that of gratitude.

Apparently this was something he did every year prior to Thanksgiving in his classes.  He was famous for his mini life lectures (and in another class I took from him later on, he talked to us about marriage).  I wish I could have recorded his words, because it was one of those times that something someone said sank deep into my heart, and changed me as a human being.

Sadly, I don't remember any of his words, but I do remember being pulled from thoughts about myself, my life, and my pursuits (during perhaps what is one of the most self-oriented times of life) and beginning to think of all those to whom I owed thanks.  I remember thinking for the first time of gratitude as something that goes full circle--that everything we have comes from God, even the gifts, kindness, and service we receive from others.  At the same time, everything we do with our time, talents, and life, gives back to God, in some small measure, by paying it forward, and allowing others to feel His love through us.  Meanwhile, we continue to receive daily gifts of abundance from God, and can never fully repay Him.  All things, every day are gifts from Him.

Needless to say, what I had viewed as just a break from school where I could hang out at home and eat turkey and pie, became much more that year, and in the years since, I've continued to feel a reverence for the Thanksgiving season.

So when I say Thanksgiving is huge at our house, I mean huge in importance.  It's not the same kind of celebration as birthdays and Christmas, but we do what we can to reserve this time of year for giving thanks.  I love Christmas as much as the next guy, and I hope that in emphasizing Thanksgiving, no one gets the impression I'm a grinch...  It does really bother me that Christmas items are on display in the store in October.  I need my Thanksgiving, people!  It just feels a little rushed and commercialized when we see Christmas things showing up so soon...

So without further delay, we'll get on with giving thanks.  Finally today (after a sort of late start) we got out our Thanksgiving jars:

And we started adding kernels to the empty jar.  Everyone (even the dogs) got a turn to say what they were thankful for today.

Tim's parents are home after a temple mission to Nauvoo and of course we are all thankful to see them again.  Being together as a family just feels different with them here.

Other things that made the list:  family, our home, wrestling and sports (uhhhh...wonder who said that), church and being able to worship there, and time together as a family...there were others too, but I don't remember them all right now.

So now that we got the list going, we invite you to join us.  Please share sometime this month, in comments or in your own blog, things that you're thankful for.  If you share in your blog, feel free to leave the link in your comment.

Sunday Sharing

I wish I knew the source of this, but I don't.  I saw it on facebook this week and liked it.  

In Luke 11: 11-13, Jesus Christ tells us:  

"If a son shall ask bread of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone? or if he ask a fish, will he for a fish give him a serpent?

 Or if he shall ask an egg, will he offer him a scorpion?

If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?"

Today Gabby asked me to make an Indian dish for her that I'd never made before.  I had already planned potato soup and cornbread for the family.  By the time dinner was over, I was tired and wanted to tell her to heat up one of the pseudo pre-packaged Indian meals she could just heat in the microwave.  I didn't want to cook again, but I knew it meant a lot to her, so I did.

Parenthood can give us a little bit of a view into the love our Heavenly Father has for us, and insight into the lengths he will go to help us...and insight into the times when the answer is, "no."  

Yesterday was a family work day.  We were prepping the yard for fall/winter, and cleaning around the house...not an easy task to sell to a house of tweens and teens.  They asked to hang out with friends.  They asked to "just finish this one part and do the rest later."  I knew that the work was hard.  I knew they'd rather be doing something else.  There was a part of me that wanted to just do the work myself so they could go hang out with friends.  But the wiser parent in me knew they were learning to work, and learning to work together.  They were also learning that family work is part of being in a family.  They were even learning that they could work and have fun at the same time.  My answers weren't the answers they wanted, but they were the best answers I could give from the perspective of a parent who knew what their lives would be like if they grew up without family work days.  

Today I was thinking about all of this and asked Gabby if her prayers are answered.  She's been a little freaked out by the whole idea of Halloween, and said she had a nightmare the other night.  Then she said, "I just prayed and He helped my nightmares go away, and now I sleep like a baby."

Funny, because I've been worried lately because Gabby has seemed a little off.  She hasn't been dealing so well with the whole idea of Halloween.  To us Halloween has always been a fun holiday.  To someone who isn't so familiar with Halloween, it's more than a little weird.  At first I didn't think much of it because I know she had Halloween and trick-or-treating last year, but at least every other day she says, "I'm just going as myself," or "Halloween is a dumb idea."

I prayed earlier this week to know how to help her, but as is often true with prayers, they are answered by others.

We ended up having a busy night on the night of a Halloween party Gabby was invited to earlier this week, so a friend's mom invited her to get ready with her friend.  

Two of the cutest witches on the planet!

The other mom took a lot of time helping them with make-up and hair.  That extra time and attention made all the difference to Gabby.  Then today when Gabby told me about her own prayer for Heavenly Father to help her, I knew that in a very personal way, her prayers had been answered too.  He didn't take away the fear, He just helped her handle it.

Amazing if you think about it.  We kneel.  We give thanks.  We ask.  We pour out our hearts.  We don't see the being to whom we pray, but for thousands and thousands of years, human beings have felt of His love and know, individually and personally that He is there.  

That's prayer.

Sunday Sharing

I borrowed this picture from my sister.  (Thanks Becky!)  It was taken in August when Becky, her two children, and two other cousins took my grandma to visit my grandpa's grave on the anniversary of his death.

My grandma, Rosalie Campbell, will be 93 years old in January.  She continues to live a productive and healthy life.  I can't be around her without being inspired by her love, patience, and silent example of hard work and dedication to her faith and to her family.  At 92, she still makes sure to eat healthy food; she exercises regularly, and quilts in all her spare time.  I have no idea how many quilts she's quilted and donated, but it's a lot.  She stays busy.

I remember when she would spend summers in Juniper, on the farm where I grew up.  I would go to her house during the day "to help her," but I'm sure I ate more raspberries than I picked, and my skills at working a wringer washer were definitely less than impressive (as evidenced by the number of times she'd gasp when my fingers got too close to the wringer).  Certainly that time with her did more for me that it did for her.

Yesterday Megan had a soccer game in Logan, so we decided it would be good to go early and also visit my grandma that day.  At 92 years old, you're bound to have some bad days, and yesterday was one of those days for my grandma.  The quilt she was working on was stressing her out.  She hated the pattern and couldn't wait to finish it.  She was tired and ready for her nap, and confused about who we all were.  Under the circumstances, our visit wasn't a long one, and in a few quiet moments at the end of our visit, I enjoyed telling her how much I loved her and appreciated her example.  

I was happy to have seen her, but in all honesty had hoped for a little more of the familiarity I'd seen at previous visits.  I was hoping to be able to share with her our happiness at bringing Gabby into our family, but the presence of children she didn't know seemed even more confusing to her (and to Gabby, who has consistently been checking my memory since yesterday to "make sure you'll never forget me, Mom.")

Later that day I called Becky, my sister who lives near my grandma, and does shopping for her several times a week.  She sees my grandma regularly enough that she knows her moods and quirks, and just the right phrase or word to spark her memory.  Becky was out of town at the time we went to visit my grandma, so I called her to tell her next time I needed to go when she was there.  When I described our visit to Becky, she reminded me about how my grandmother is still touching lives, even from the confines of her own home.

Becky told me about a girl who used to help care for my grandma, who moved away and went on a church mission.  She wrote a letter back to my grandma later expressing how much my grandma's example of faith and commitment meant to her.  She would help my grandma get ready for bed every night, and was so inspired that my grandma, at her age, would still take time to kneel at her bedside every night to pray. 

Becky had told me that story before, but as she told me again, I realized how my own life has been shaped by hearing those kind of stories about my grandma.  I remember the first time Becky told me that story, thinking about how many times I'm cold, or sick, or so, so, so tired, and on those nights, I pray from my bed instead of kneeling to pray.  But since hearing that story for the first time, that image of my 92 year old grandmother kneeling in faith by her bedside every night has prompted me to get out of bed every night to pray, even if I'm tired, even if I'm not feeling well, even if...

And I thought of how it felt to be with my grandma, giving her a hug, telling her I loved her, and seeing that familiar peace in her eyes when she asked the girls to sing a song for her.  Example is an incredible gift, and my grandma has me thinking today about how example combined with love can shape lives and build lasting bonds.  Today I am thankful for an incredible woman and a life filled with example, service and love for others.

Sunday Sharing

Remember last week when I was too tired for Sunday Sharing?  You know, from being up all night with the dog?  Well, this is the event that was on my heart and mind then, the one I would have shared if I hadn't been exhausted.  I'm sharing it now. 

On March 8th, 2011, I turned a whopping 29 years old (plus a little bit...it was actually the 13th anniversary of my 29th birthday...you do the math).  A few hours after falling asleep that night, my phone rang.  It was the call I knew was coming, but wasn't prepared for.  

The two adorable babies pictured below had been threatening to enter the world early for months, and their mother, Amy, patiently sat in the hospital day after day for six weeks (maybe more...I can't remember now).  Whatever it took for her babies.  (For more of the story see here.)

Tyson and Alycia on their blessing day

Background:  Spencer and Amy are Joie's aunt and uncle on the Weaver side of the family.  Spencer is Joie's dad, Nick's brother.  (If you're still feeling lost, see here.) 

Because Spencer was several hours drive from Salt Lake City, where Amy was hospitalized, we had planned in advance that when she went into labor, I would go to the hospital to be with her while she had the babies.  When I got the call, it was still too early for them to be born, so it was with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty I drove to the hospital and greeted Amy.  Less than an hour later, with Spencer (proud daddy) checking in frequently by phone, and me perched behind Amy's head holding the video camera, Tyson and Alycia entered the world.  They were so tiny.

Five long, long minutes after they were whisked away from the delivery room, we finally got word that both babies were doing better than expected.  They would be in the hospital, possibly for a month or more, but it seemed that they were doing well.  It was the miracle we had been praying for...that, and knowing Amy had been able to keep from going into labor long enough for them to have a chance at life.

Amazingly, the miracle continued when only a few weeks later, Spencer and Amy were able to take their babies home.  Tyson and Alycia surprised everyone, including the doctors with their strength and health.  What could have been a difficult tragedy in this family became a faith strengthening miracle.

A few months later I got a call I truly hoped for but never expected.  Amy had been meeting with the missionaries and decided to be baptized.  Then the question...  Would we be there?  

Of course!

Amy on her baptism day with the missionaries, Spencer, the babies, and Bryton, Jayden, and Wyatt, their boys.

I'm a believer that God doesn't send tragedy.  Tragedy is part of an imperfect, mortal existence.  But I do believe that through tragedy, we can be blessed and supported in very personal, loving and comforting ways by a kind Father in Heaven.  It amazes me how, in times of difficulty, our Heavenly Father comforts us personally, not with platitudes, but with the very experiences and knowledge we need to grow.

We have been so incredibly blessed to be a part of the Weaver family through their connection to Joie during some amazing growth and transformations in their lives.  

Last weekend, the story continued when Joie, Gabby and I drove to Evanston, Wyoming to witness another baptism.   

Monique, Pricilla (sister to Nick), Mike (husband of Susan), Susan (mother to Nick),  Amy (holding Tyson), Spencer (holding Alycia), Max, Tommy, Bryton, Jayden, and Wyatt

This time Spencer was baptizing his son, Bryton and another one of Joie's cousins, Tommy.  One of Spencer's sisters said the opening prayer.  Another of Bryton's older cousins gave a talk.  Prior to the service, Spencer was ordained an Elder.  (For more about the priesthood see here; for more about baptism see here.)

I like to think I have as much faith as the next person, but I honestly couldn't have anticipated this day.  During the service, I stood in the back holding one of the babies (tough job, I know...), and looked at the group of people in front of me.  I guessed that probably less than a third of the people in that room had very little to do with church or religion only a few years earlier.  Tears filled my eyes as I thought of how blessed we've been to know this family, and to be a part of witnessing this transformation in their lives.  Then I thought of how Nick and Ruth must feel, looking in on the same scene.  For sure they were there too.

To me, the amazing thing about the gospel of Jesus Christ is how it touches and changes lives.  Teachers cannot do what the spiritual stirrings of the heart can, and when individuals respond to those feelings, lives change.

Spencer, Amy, and their cute family of five children under the age of 8, are an inspiration.  

Blessings to Bryton who is already on the right track...

And to these two miracle babies who started it all, and because of the choices of their parents, will not know life without the gospel.

Tyson and Alysha--7 months

(And now a few more pictures just because...) 

Joie holding her baby cousin Alysha

Gabby with Wyatt (who is glued to Gabby whenever he sees her), me holding Tyson, and Joie with Alysha

Random words from a favorite hymn have been on my mind when I think of this day:

I stand all amazed

At the love Jesus offers me.

Confused at the grace

That so fully he proffers me...

I marvel that He would descend

From his throne divine

To rescue a soul so rebellious and proud as mine,

That He would extend His great love unto such as I,

Sufficient to own, to redeem and to justify.

Oh, it is wonderful

That He should care for me

Enough to die for me.

Oh, it is wonderful,

Wonderful to me.

(Assorted lyrics from I Stand All Amazed by Charles H. Gabriel)

Sunday Sharing

Sunday Sharing this week is that there is no Sunday Sharing.  Sorry, my brain just isn't going that deep today.  And I'm blaming the dog...

The picture above was taken from my bed when I was recovering from surgery.  Blossom, who isn't allowed in my room, waited patiently.  I could tell she couldn't wait until I wasn't in bed anymore.  She was so patient.  I love the loyalty of dogs.

But my patience with Blossom was wearing thin last night.  I'm glad I found the picture above...makes it easier to forgive.  Maybe.  Although during the night I wasn't sure...

The story:  Yesterday Jeran made chocolate chip cookies.  He took care of the chocolate chips, but Blossom figured out how to get them out of the pantry.  She ate 3/4 of a bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips, and after realizing how sick she was last night, we're glad she's still here.

After throwing up all over the house, she spent the night howling and crying, shaking, and tearing around the house and high speed, jumping on the chairs and on top of the table, and even tried to chew the metal bars of her bed...  I kept the bedroom doors shut and just stayed awake with her.  When I'd touch her I could feel her heart racing.

Finally about 4:00 a.m. I was too tired to keep up with her anymore, and put her on a leash.  I laid down on the couch and she pulled and tugged but at least I could keep an eye on her and lay down at the same time.  About an hour later she jumped up on my legs and fell asleep.  Tim woke up about 6:00 a.m. and I passed the leash off to him.  

At this point I've had a total of 4 hours of sleep since I woke up Saturday morning.  We had an awesome day Saturday that would have been my Sunday Sharing post, but I can't do it justice...  Later.  Really.

And since Blossom is snoozing soundly in her bed, I think I will too!

Sunday Sharing

General Conference Sunday:  Today I can't say it better than this.  

Sunday Sharing

I blog because I enjoy it, and until several months ago, I didn't even know there were google stats on my blog, but after learning how to check blog stats, I have been amused at some of the internet searches that bring people here.  The other day one of the searches leading to my blog was, "the answers to life's questions."  Scary, right?


I have three teens who, depending on the day, might tell you I know nothing.  In fact, sometimes I start conversations with them that way, just to avoid conflict.

Which brings me to make this announcement:

Note to teens and other would-be seekers to the answers to life's questions:  The answers to life's questions are not found on this blog.  

However, I do have to say that last night I found some really amazing life answers at an annual women's conference held by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

As of last night, I have a new favorite flower

Forget-me-not

In an address to women, Dieter F. Uchtdorf compared forget-me-nots to us, and presented five ideas to "forget not."  

My new favorite quote comes from President Uchtdorf, who reflected on his own thoughts about feeling forgotten when he was younger:  

"I was never forgotten, and I know something else...neither are you.  You are not forgotten.  Where ever you are, whatever the circumstances may be, you are not forgotten.  No matter how dark your days may seem, no matter how insignificant you my feel, no matter how overshadowed you think you may be, your Heavenly Father has not forgotten you.  In fact, he loves you with an infinite love."

As human beings, I think we've all felt "forgotten" at certain points in our lives.  In a world where it is easy to feel like just a number, I am so thankful that our Heavenly Father knows us and does not forget us.  In our moments of frustration and despair, if we turn to Him, He will whisper to us, "You are not forgotten," and we can know that our lives and individual circumstances do matter.  

Sunday Sharing

Forgive me for stretching the limits of Sunday Sharing this week to discuss something that might seem a little non-spiritual, but fun still the same.

For those outside of Utah, did you know we have our own Holy War here every year?  It comes in the form of a football match-up between two rival schools:  BYU and University of Utah.

It's called a Holy War because BYU is a private school owned by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormon church).  Obviously, there is a world-wide fan base.  The University of Utah is a state school, but what a lot of people don't know is "the U" has actually been around a lot longer than "the Y."  In it's pre state school days it was Deseret Academy, and was started also by members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints.

In Utah, this is the rivalry of all rivalries.  Everyone in Utah chooses sides.  If you move here and don't declare a loyalty, you'd feel like a foreigner.  

We're Utah fans.  Tim's dad taught at the LDS church institute at the University of Utah for years.  I am a graduate of BYU, and while I appreciate my education there, I never really felt a strong sense of loyalty to the school.  

My Master's degree is from the University of Utah.  I loved it there, and during my first year there, the Utes had a dream season, and went undefeated, and became the first non Bowl Championship Series team to be invited to a bowl game.  Tim claims Ute loyalty, but he doesn't watch football with me.  During that 2004 "bowl-busting" season for the Utes, Nate became my football buddy, and together we watched the Utes win game after game.  Nate became a loyal fan.

Megan also declared her Utah loyalty, but Jeran, just to be different, became a BYU fan.

Joie joined our family as the daughter of the world's greatest Boise State fan, and in an attempt to fit in, declared herself a "BYUte Bronco."  Gradually, we've won her over.  She and I both still cheer for Boise (another BCS-busting team), but if Boise plays Utah, we bleed red.  (Sadly, Utah lost to Boise last fall.)

Gabby, who has only been here less than a year is experiencing her first football season in Utah.  She has friends in our neighborhood who are BYU fans.  In a letter Gabby wrote to her sister this past summer, she declared her loyalty to BYU.  I asked her if she knew what BYU was.  She didn't, but she knew her friends cheered for their team, so she became a fan.  

Fast forward to the 2011 BYU-Utah rivalry game.  If you live in Utah, you know it was a painful night for BYU fans, who lost on their own field, 54-10.  It was fun during the game to explain football to Gabby and Joie...good times.  But when things started to look bad for BYU, Gabby said, "BYU, if you lose, I'm going to be a Utah fan."  

Utah answered with a score (then another and another and another...it really was painful for BYU).  Before the end of the 3rd quarter Gabby said, "I can't look," and closed her eyes and went to sleep.

This morning I asked her if she was a Utah fan now.  She said, "No, I'm still BYU.  My coach says it's not if you win or lose but if you have fun."  (I didn't tell her that it didn't really look like BYU was having fun.)  Jeran was also equally disappointed, and hurt that I called him a defector.  Sorry, Jeran.  I love you and love your loyalty.

But for this year, the Runnin' Utes reign supreme.  54-10.  Joie's throat is sore from screaming.  Nate couldn't type numbers fast enough on his facebook status to keep up with the score.  It was a good night to be a Utah fan.  

Go Utes!

Sunday Sharing

"Never forget."  

We hear those words every year on the anniversary of 9-11.  But yesterday in a conversation with my children, I realized Nate (who would have been 5 at the time) was the only one who actually had any memories of that day, and even those were vague.

Then Gabby joined us in the conversation.  She had no idea what we were talking about.  As we started explaining what happened on 9-11, she remembered hearing somewhere the story of Flight 93 that was heroically crashed into a Pennsylvania field.  She would have been an infant in India during the time of the attacks.

All of our children were alive at the time, but don't remember.

But they do remember this:

On the first anniversary of 9-11, this healing field was created near where we live as a memorial to those who lost their lives on 9-11.  Each flag represents a person who lost their lives that day.  Every year since then we visit this site, and this year we'll visit again.

Realizing my children didn't have any significant memories of that day made me thankful for traditions.  They do remember those.

They remember seeing the flags for the first time the first year they visited.  It was an impressive sight.

They remember the year Tim was interviewed by a newspaper reporter there, and they remember the tears in dad's eyes as he talked to the reporter about his experience at work on 9-11 (he works for the FAA), and the emotions of seeing the screens of airplanes go blank, and being on lockdown, unsure of when the threat would be over and he'd be able to return to his family.  They know the story, even if they don't remember it.

And Joie remembers the first time she visited.  Several years before she lost her family, they moved here to Utah, and that fall they joined us in our healing field tradition.  It's a great memory for all of us, and we treasure the pictures and memories.

Joie, Megan, Jeran, Nate, and baby Audrey

I remember being with their family that day and how Joie and Megan were playing and being silly.  Joie's dad wanted her to understand the significance of 9-11.  He took her hand and walked away from the group of cousins so he could explain this day to her.

Nick and Joie discussing 9-11

There have been other years it has seemed we're too busy to go, but we always fit it in.

Today Gabby has reminded me several times already that she wants to go see the flags.  She has been excited to see this place we're all talking about.  About an hour ago we were getting ready to walk out the door and a crazy wind and lightening storm hit.  We're hoping it blows over like it has the past few days.

As human beings we create traditions around most major events in our lives so we can "remember," and in the absence of experience, it is traditions that bring us to a remembrance of significant life events.  It is because of traditions that our children can "never forget" 9-11.

Sunday Sharing

My great, great grandfather is Sanford Bingham.  He is the father of Maria (pronounced Ma-ri-ah) Bingham who married Hazleton Campbell.  They are the parents of my grandfather, Sanford Campbell.

When Sanford Bingham settled in the Salt Lake Valley, he and his brother Thomas were cattle ranchers.  They ran a heard or cattle in the mountains bordering the west side of the valley.  The canyon became known as Bingham Canyon.

While herding cattle, Sanford and Thomas discovered mineral deposits in the canyon and took samples to Brigham Young, the Mormon prophet and leader at the time.  Brigham Young advised them not to engage in mining at the time, due to concerns about mining being an attraction to outsiders that would interfere with the need of the growing community to practice their religion in peace.  Sanford and Thomas heeded this counsel and later their families settled in an area north of the Salt Lake Valley.  Hazleton and Maria Campbell eventually farmed in Juniper, where I grew up and where my family still farms today.

Bingham Mine, which is now known as Kennecott Copper Mine, is one of the largest copper mines in the world, and produces 25% of our nations copper.

This afternoon we took the kids to visit Kennecott.  We've gone before, several years ago, but as I've learned more about the history of my great, great grandfather, I thought it would be fun to go there again with the kids.

Looking across the open mine several miles wide and 3/4 mile deep.

Side wall of Kennecott Copper Mine

Two cute miners

12 foot tire of the trucks used to haul the dirt containing minerals

Megan paying close attention to the sign.

Testing her strength

One of two places at the mine where we saw Sanford Bingham's name. 

This display seemed to draw a crowd.

Second name spotting

Two more cute miners

It's a real moment of introspection to be standing at the face of one of the world's largest copper mines, thinking that if history had been different, I may be the wealthy descendent of Sanford Bingham, instead of the farm girl from Idaho descendent of Sanford Bingham.  I'd be lying if I said there wasn't a little part of me that wondered how my life would be different if my great, great grandfather had decided to be a miner instead of listening to the prophet.

Then in that moment I also had to imagine being raised in a family without the gospel, in a life where material possessions mattered more than following the plan of our Savior, which includes following the counsel of living prophets.

I wondered what that decision was like for Sanford Bingham.  Did he deliberate?  Did he think twice before leaving behind his discovery of rich mineral deposits for cattle farming?  When miners entered the area several years later, did he ever look back and wonder if his life could have been different?  Or did his heart yearn for the farm, and family and home like mine does when I've been away from Juniper for too long?  It's funny how you come to love what you have.

Honestly, there was still a little part of me that wished for both the gospel and wealth.  There are people who have both, right?  At the same time, I also know that I, and hundreds, maybe even thousands of descendants of Sanford Bingham, will one day meet him again and thank him for his decision to put generations of our family on a gospel path.

Then I thought of this quote:  "Never permit yourself to become a weak link in the chain of your generations."  (President Gordon B. Hinckley from "Keep the Chain Unbroken", 30 November, 1999)  

For those who gave me a strong chain of generations to belong to, I am thankful.  I know in my heart it is a treasure that wealth cannot buy.

Sunday Sharing

Growing up we were supposed to give inspirational quotes as part of a devotional to start our young women's church meetings.  Some quotes got recycled.  A lot.  They were the standby's.

One I remember being shared frequently was, "It's nice to be important but it's more important to be nice."  

(The fact that I remember it all these years later means maybe recycled quotes aren't that bad after all, right?)


At the same time, isn't it interesting how nice people become important?

On August 18th, we held our 4th Annual Random Acts of Kindness Day.  Through facebook the invitation spread, and was also shared via email, and blogs.  Some people shared with us what they did, and others shared how they were affected by this experience.  People did everything from public service to helping a neighbor.

Joie (who is growing into this tradition as she gets older) was excited for the first time this year about doing random acts of kindness that day.  That morning she fed the dogs and gave them fresh water, and watered all our (neglected) houseplants.  We had some happy dogs and happy plants around our house that day!

Than she spent the afternoon baking:

Yum!  That night we delivered the cookies to Gabby's piano teacher and her family.  The selection of the cookie recipient was kind of random.  Gabby wanted in on the kindness tradition, and Joie was willing to include her by giving the cookies to someone Gabby chose.  (Side note:  Scary how those two are cooperating these days.  They're even sharing a room now...verdict is still out on that one, but it was their choice.)

The morning after our RAK 4 day, Tim and I left for Seattle and the kids went to stay with cousins.  We arrived home two days later to find our kindness had unexpectedly been returned.  Gabby's piano teacher is a senior in high school and still lives at home.  Her mother has MS and suffers daily with symptoms.  In the past several years she has lost a lot of mobility, and struggles more with daily tasks.  That's not why they were chosen, but this woman's example of facing life with a smile is always contagious.  When we arrived home there was a kind note taped to our door from Gabby's piano teacher's family, thanking us for the cookies.  It was fun to come home to a personal note, and that particular act of kindness was humbling to me--that on the list of daily tasks of someone struggling with daily tasks was to write a note to a neighbor.  It was an example of the ripples of kindness.  

I call them ripples because it seems like kindness somehow takes on a life of it's own.  It spreads and grows, and even though it's seldom the intention, it ripples back.  Many comments about experiences that day reflected the same idea.

One woman posted on the invite wall on facebook and said, "I dont want to tell what I did, but more how I felt.  Doing something kind for another lifts our own burdens...  I needed the lift of serving others more than I needed the support of being served. I always find that in serving others, my worries become so very small. My heart has been glad all day, and any hiccups along todays path were seemingly small and insignificant. Today I smiled a little more, walked with a lift in my step, and had great peace in my heart as I found ways to share Unconditional Love in Action. Thank you for including me."

Our family's sincere thanks goes out to all those who participated in any way.  

I laughed at the idea of my brother and sister-in-law smiling at "the generally stoic Germans" just to watch them smile back.  

I was warmed at the idea of a mother including a daughter, and another mother talking about how the mood in her home changed when she looked for ways to be kind to her children.  

Someone else did temple service.

Other people shared with us their own stories of tragedy, and we found connections and friends and felt less alone.  Some people say they don't like others talking about their own experiences with grief when the topic is raised.  For me I've always felt oddly comforted by others sharing their own stories--it somehow signals strength and that we'll all be ok.  For those who shared, thank you!

One of my sisters climbed Pike's Peak that day with her husband (happy anniversary Esther and Phil!) and they smiled and encouraged other after they had reached the summit themselves.  If you've ever been a hiker encouraged by others who have already been to the top, you know what a welcome burst of energy that can provide!

Another sister offered to host extended family from out of town while they were traveling due to a family emergency.  She did so because she remembered another friend who had offered the same thing to her when she and her family were traveling to Utah after Ruth, Nick and Audrey died, and how comforting it felt to stay with friends during a time of crisis.

For me, the amazing part was that I didn't even think (that much) about our loss that day.  It certainly had weighed heavily on my mind in the days and weeks prior (bawled my eyes out with Joie the day before) but on that day, I was surprised how reaching out really did help.

Kindness in it's many forms is a gift that keeps on giving.  We have been blessed to share our day with so many of you, and look forward to more of the same next year!