Blessings.

“God does notice us, and He watches over us.
But it is usually through another person that He meets our needs."
--Spencer W. Kimball

A few weeks ago, Mike's parents were in Nebraska helping Grandma Behan go through her estate before she moved into an assisted living home. She had been driven all over the place, staying with Barb, Wayne, Marlene, and Diane for stretches of time since she's no longer able to care for herself entirely. She finally got fed up with all the traveling and made the decision to find a place to stay put. She found a really nice home to go to where the ladies spend their days playing Pinochle, and welcomed her right into the group...perfect!
We got a phone call in the midst of all this, asking if we wanted Grandma's minivan. With Mike's Aunt Diane also wanting the van, it was decided that whomever wanted it would have to buy it from Grandma, with the money going toward her assisted living costs. Although we were in the market for a vehicle, it was a little more than our budget would allow, plus we REALLY didn't want to get in the middle of a family feud over a van. We were a little disappointed, but life goes on, right?
Then last weekend, Barb called again from Nebraska, asking if we still needed a van. Mike told her we were waiting on our tax return, so we hadn't bought one yet. She could hardly contain her excitement as she said, "Good. Because your Dad and I just bought Grandma's van and he's driving it home for you right now!" To say that we were surprised is a complete understatement. We weren't quite sure what to say or think at this point, because we knew we couldn't afford to pay them the entire cost of the vehicle. Then she said something even more astounding. "It's a gift from us and we won't take a dime for it."
With that news came several different emotions.

Relief. The financial burden we'd been carrying for months had been somewhat relieved by this one act of immense generosity. While we had planned on spending to purchase another vehicle, that money is now freed up to meet other needs. No more illegally or dangerously cramming all 7 of us into the truck, or driving back & forth to drop off & pick up Mike at his worksites.

Guilt. The financial decisions we'd made up until this point contributed to our situation, therefore, did we deserve a gift of this magnitude? What are they sacrificing in their life in order to meet OUR need? Will their other children harbor bad feelings in not receiving something as well? How do we make it up to them? How will they perceive future spending on our part, and will they regret their choice to help us now?

Gratitude. We are so grateful to belong to a family that sees a need and chooses to meet it. We are so grateful that we are loved enough to be found worth sacrificing for. We are so grateful that Heavenly Father has been watching over us, and is blessing us, though at times those blessings seem hard to find.

What it all comes to is the fact that helping someone (for me) is so much easier than accepting help from someone else. Especially for one as stubborn and independent as I. However, I've had the blessed opportunity of helping someone in need, with great sacrifice to myself, and I've never regretted making that sacrifice. Something profound happens that enlarges your soul when you sacrifice to help another, and that growth cannot happen by any other means. Perhaps the same can be said for those who allow another the opportunity to make that sacrifice. My soul has been enlarged and my humility deepened. Even though we are determined to repay Mike's parents in one way or another, we've all benefited from their selfless generosity. Their example leaves me more determined now to find ways that I can help another, whether by small means or great. I'm relieved. I'm humbled. I'm grateful.

Life is But a Dream

Since Bridget has a double ear infection and Dixon's on his way to one, I'm at home today instead of church. The last couple of nights have been miserable with constant sleep interruptions (at least hourly) and night feedings that I thought we'd done away with. Makes it hard to be anything but grouchy come morning. On the plus side, I didn't have a mad dash to get all gussied up and out the door this morning, and plan to remain in my cozy, albeit frumpy, jammies for the duration of the day. Right now it's quieter than it has been in a while, with the older girls and Mike at church and Dixon napping. Bridget is creating all sorts of art projects with things from the Sunday Box while she eats strawberries, wearing an outfit she put together herself. Good thing we aren't making any public appearances today.

I'm still trying to climb out of my rut that seems more like a giant chasm at times (I know--the frumpy jammies and lack of showering don't really help), but I think I'm making progress--a little, but progress nonetheless. It's nice to have a little time to reflect on some of the troubles that have been weighing on me, and to try to both put them in perspective, and find solutions to them. I feel at times as though I'm one breath away from drowning, as I struggle to find peace. It occurs to me that I'm supposed to be learning some great lessons through this, and again, I find myself turning to analogies to make sense of things.

The Current and the Shore

My life's little boat that I've been row, row, rowing down the stream sideswiped some rocks, filled with water and went under. In the meantime, that stream emptied into a mighty river, sweeping me into its roaring current. I now have two choices. I can swim with all my might to get to the shore as quickly as I can, or I can ride the current to some distant location downstream. If I choose the first, I'll more than likely waste my precious energy fighting against the current that is going to take me where it wants to anyway. In the event that I actually struggle hard enough and make it to the shore of my own accord, I'll be lost, and will doubtless have to struggle again through whatever terrain lies between that spot of shore and safety. If I choose the latter, it will take every ounce of faith I have to relax and be confident in my ability to keep my head above the water, however, remaining in the water will allow the current to effortlessly carry me to that destination at the end of the river. There will still be treacherous rapids to navigate and the threat of crashing into protruding rocks, but both options are fraught with inherent danger and unpleasantries.

I realize I've been looking for the relief that comes from finally getting to the shore and planting my feet back on solid ground, but only the Lord knows what lies in wait along the shoreline, and He has further to take me. If I struggle hard enough and get myself out now, I won't be where the Lord wants me to be, or end up where the Lord wants me to end up. I'll have to struggle through whatever terrain lies between where I got out and my 'final destination,' and as a result I may never make it there. It will take longer and be harder, ultimately, than remaining in the current and allowing it to effortlessly carry me. I just have to try not to drown in the process. It's a difficult thing for me to allow myself to relax while in the river, but I know if I do, it will be easier and I may even be able to enjoy some of the scenery along the way. After all, as President Hinckley said, "Life is to be enjoyed, not just endured."

I was reading my friend, Ashlee's blog this morning and something she said really stood out to me.

"I have watched several people struggle to find solace in the midst of a trial. It seems to me that those who have the desire to be teachable while in the fight come out stronger. They do still experience frustration, loss, disappointment, sadness and more, but there is increased purpose and patience in their struggles. I think we can learn things the easy way or the hard way, and praying to be teachable makes every challenge just a bit easier."

I sincerely hadn't thought to pray for that, but I can see her point. By truly looking to and allowing myself to be teachable, amidst all this angst, I will be made stronger and wiser. And really, isn't that what the goal is? For wisdom is acting upon truth and knowledge. Now, I just need to find the courage to stay in the current.

The Funny Thing About Hope

From the time I was a teenager, I can think of a handful of talks that were so memorable, I can recall where I was, who was with me, and what was going on in my life at the time. The very first of such talks was given in a Sacrament Meeting in my Grand Coulee ward by Sister Lyn Strocsher. While I don't remember the details of the talk, I remember her topic of Hope hit me really hard, and I left that meeting with an inexpressible feeling that has followed me to this day. Whenever I approach the topic of hope, I can feel its importance. I can feel myself on the precipice of putting together all the pieces of the puzzle that make hope so important. In fact, I crave that understanding, but my muddled mind keeps understanding just out of arm's reach.

Tonight I feel as though I'm bridging that gap.

Life has been tough lately. I don't mean that it's hard having 5 kids to take care of (who aren't always well behaved...no, really). I'm not talking about the 5 loads of laundry I do every other day, that clutter my living room because I don't have the time to fold it and get it put away because I'm cleaning up one of the other 5 messes scattered about my house at any given time. I don't even mean all the running around I have to do between carpool & errands & appointments, or the fact that I haven't had a decent night's sleep in over a year.

I mean life has been really hard.

I'm by all accounts a control freak. It's something I'm trying to curtail, but it's difficult to try to manage something so innate. So, when Mike wakes up every morning for the last 2 months with no job to go to, my natural inclination is to freak out. I hate feeling helpless. I hate feeling like I'm just holding on by the skin of my teeth. I hate feeling out of control. But...I can't help but believe that the Lord is trying to teach us (or maybe just me) to be more faithful.

To trust in Him more.

To let Him lead.

It's a difficult thing to do when feeling stonewalled at every turn. We've been trying so hard to do EVERYTHING that we ought to. We're magnifying our callings, we're praying & reading our scriptures individually and as a family, we're paying our tithing & fast offerings, we're serving at every opportunity we get, we're holding family home evenings, we're attending the temple monthly, and we're honestly searching for job opportunities. We're doing everything we know to do--we've even started hocking stuff on the internet just to bring in a few dollars to pay bills--but nothing seems to have changed our situation. So where does that leave us?

I found a talk from the Oct. 2008 General Conference by President Dieter F. Uchtdorf called The Infinite Power of Hope, and this excerpt eerily correlates with my feelings as of late.

"The adversary uses despair to bind hearts and minds in suffocating darkness. Despair drains from us all that is vibrant and joyful and leaves behind the empty remnants of what life was meant to be. Despair kills ambition, advances sickness, pollutes the soul, and deadens the heart. Despair can seem like a staircase that leads only and forever downward."

When I read this, my first thought was, "That's me!" Then my second thought was, "That's me." Wow. I really let him get to me this time. My inability to trust in Heavenly Father has allowed the adversary to plant that seed of despair, and he got me good. He got me good.

Fortunately, I do have quite an arsenal at my disposal to draw from, now that I'm keenly aware of this attempted siege taking place. I keep coming back to the scripture in Abraham 3:25

"And we will prove them herewith, to see if they will do all things whatsoever the Lord their God shall command them."

I know we're going through a refiner's fire right now. We all know this world is getting scarier by the minute and the Lord needs "the best and the brightest" on His side. We are definitely being proven right now. And it's hard. And it hurts. And it's strangely exhilarating.

After a long conversation tonight with Mike about our future and where we're headed, for the first time in months, the despair lifted and I truly felt hope. It seems as though our life's path isn't what we'd pictured at all. The Lord seems to be taking us in a whole new direction, and that realization has brought an ounce of peace to my soul.

Pres. Uchtdorf continues, "Hope, on the other hand, is like the beam of sunlight rising up and above the horizon of our present circumstances. It pierces the darkness with a brilliant dawn. It encourages and inspires us to place our trust in the loving care of an eternal Heavenly Father, who has prepared a way for those who seek for eternal truth in a world of relativism, confusion, and of fear."

That's the funny thing about hope.

Even before the change has come, hope is the bridge that connects you to the light on the other side of despair.

Now it's faith's turn to make that first step.

And it's a doozy!