Woodwork and Willingness

My husband has discovered woodworking. High pitched blades whirl through the air with sawdust after work hours. A pro-carpenter neighbor in Timber Lakes, numerous how to YouTube videos, and experimentation, just gets my husband more excited about his new endeavor. I watch him with admiration as he produces for me birdhouses, a four- tier planter, an old garden bench sanded and refinished.

A willing heart is the first step to learning something new.

Sometimes learning something new can seem daunting or overwhelming. Woodworking is a huge bite to swallow all at once. Preparedness or self reliance, can be seen the same way. As with my husband’s first birdhouse, willingness to get started, then taking one tiny step at a time can make a huge difference.

Many years ago, a job loss cost us dear. Without warning or signs of anything being wrong, a company threw our family into 10,000 dollars worth of debt overnight, due to closing and a group European business trip that ended the day before closing and lay offs. Everything went on our credit card to make reimbursement easy on the company. There was no business expense reimbursement. This was 2001. Out of work, in time with the with the disaster of 9-11, stocks plummeted and we dug into our savings, then our 401K’s to keep afloat. I’d had a wise RS President who had focused us on preparedness. We went as a group to the church’s storehouse and had canned and purchased dry goods for our home storage. We’d learned how to use our storage. I had a full year’s supply of food stored when my husband lost his job. Wheat became bread and bulgar for cereal. I tried using bulgar for a casserole recipe using bulgar instead of meat It was horrid.  Dry apples became a dessert. Dry onions and carrots went into dishes. Beans were soaked and cooked into Louisiana beans and rice. I used dried milk for cooking. Drinking it was too gross. All these preparations cut my grocery bill by more than half. But back then, I saw food stores as an extreme plan B. It was interesting to be placed in a situation where I could use what I had and what I’d learned to stretch the funds we had. That was 2001, years ago in Tigard, Oregon, when I had three small children, and that experience made me NEVER want to use food storage again. 

But guess what? I’ve been called to the preparedness committee in my new ward, where once again there is a big focus on preparedness, and having given away what was left of my food storage when I moved to Utah from Oregon, I am starting over with a new attitude and understanding. Preparedness should be a way of everyday life. Not a grunt miserable alternative because the end is coming. Preparedness can be simple and adapted to just the way we live. I invite you to follow my blog as I revisit preparedness and relearn how to make basic preparedness easy and fun.

To Be Broken Hearted

Two nights ago, I had a strange dream that has since caused me to ponder.

I dreamt I was in bed, awake, and alone.  There was a Sponge Bob shaped balloon (just the shape no face) at the foot of the bed.  I was really missing Dad Ries, I miss his wisdom, I miss his good heart, I miss his love, and I was so sad.  Suddenly I asked the walls, “Dad, are you here?” He wasn’t, but I grabbed the balloon and just held it and wept holding that balloon so tight. It was a complete release. I never knew I could cry so hard. I knew it was a dream and marveled at that kind of release in wonder. I gave myself permission to break down, and in my dream, I wept torrential tears.

When I woke, I knew everything was going to be okay, and I had an odd peace. I felt good, energized, refilled, satisfied. Yesterday, I didn’t worry, or have sad feelings. I didn’t question my relationships, or my insecurities as a human being. I didn’t think about the way the world is turning, or the huge amounts of hate dividing the country. I didn’t feel the frustration of a house that won’t sell or wish for progress or to have neighboring friends nearer to where I am, for something fun. I didn’t worry about my place in this new season called empty nesting, where people I love have left home on one end, and are leaving this world on the other.  I didn’t fear the unknown. I just enjoyed the day as I pondered the phrase, “broken heart.”

I remember being told by Dad, in my younger years of mothering, that there were times I would have “a broken heart.”  My thought was, me? Never.  I used to think, “weak” was a good synonym for broken heart, but that isn’t so. Many times, I’ve known a broken heart.  To have a broken heart means to be an active mother, sweetheart, or friend. To have a broken heart means to know love, trust, or compassion. To have a broken heart means to challenge yourself beyond what you see.  To have a broken heart means to feel and feel deeply.  There’s no weakness in any of that, only living, loving, and learning those wisdoms that come with all those experiences involved, the greatest being to allow yourself to be broken hearted with the understanding that broken hearts mend, if we choose not to tarry too long.

To be broken hearted, is simply to be. Sometimes, to simply be is okay.

To have a broken heart is to friend the broken heart of another, and that is just what makes the broken hearted...

 whole.

Copyright 2016 Lori Ries All Rights Reserved.

Dealing with Dissension

The 2016 political climate is one of true mire. It's hateful really, and is perhaps in the history of my life, the most hateful race I've ever seen. Usually there's political mud slinging or dirt digging, and we're used to that, but this year, more than I've ever seen, parties are truly trying to crucify their opposing rivals, both sides being extreme and both sides being unduly crooked.

I was telling my husband how the world has seemed to shift so suddenly. Just since leaving Tigard six years ago, marijuana became legalized, the sanctity of marriage changed, respect for life has become void, a third gender has been named, abortion has become promoted, with fetal beings sold to science without conscience. Belief in God became unsound, and visions from media an unsightly mess as trucks mow down people and public gatherings around the world end in blood. Popularity overcame accountability and responsibility is judged based on political correctness. Law and order are challenged with the deaths of police. It's all just so strange. When did the world shift and who turned their heads to miss the beginning of the end of values, of freedom, of fidelity?

As I contemplate the visions that disrupt my sleep at night, I can so clearly see the warning of prophets coming to pass in my own day. It's wondrous and scary, and telling all at once feeling the widening gap between what I've been taught and have learned is right vs society's new rules of life. I wonder just how bad it's going to get, and if I am strong enough to handle the demons as I watch others I love continue to fall prey, swayed by the outside influences forgetting all.

It is my generation, that has long enjoyed a time of peace.  Is peacetime passing and is the world entering a new age of unrest, a new war, a new normal as people force their agenda and beliefs on others? How do we get through the day of dissension, where division is prominent, and future uncertain? More than this generation has ever known, faith, whatever that means for us individually, is going to show it's vast significance. The time is here, when man will need to be spiritually self reliant to face the days that are here and ahead. (See Mark 4: 3-20)

In a study of hypnotism, my psychology teacher told me that I could never be hypnotized. When I asked why, he told me I was too much of a realist. That my mind is too strong to let go of what is real to be submissive to the wills of another. I'm too alert. In today's world, we need be alert, awake, and aware. How important it is that we stand for truth and right. Isaiah warned: "Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!"

Where the world is in commotion, are we in motion? As I ponder today's vastly changing world, I hear Neil Anderson's voice. "Beware of the evil behind the smiling eyes."

Personal commentary, no sharing please.
Copyright 2016 Lori Ries All rights reserved.

In Focus

Ayn Rand said, "Words are a lens to focus one's mind."
I realized something this morning. When one struggles with writing as a noun, one should turn it on it's head and think of writing as a verb, and just write.

When my father in law passed, two and a half months ago, I feel I officially joined the empty nesters club. I felt myself being prepared for the start of losing parents a couple years ago, but in truth, you're never really prepared. Not for hip bone loss. I've lost a number of family members from that next generation. The number of living aunts and uncles, I knew in girlhood, are now far less, and it feels strange.

I'm trying to figure out this new stage of life. While I thought loss would be just another transformation, a change to adjust to, I never knew how loss could make one disjointed, confused, and even lost feeling. No matter how much faith you have or how strong you think you are, loss is hard.  Because it's so hard, my physician gave me added medication to my Midlife Welcome gift pack. I now laugh when I think back remembering telling my husband, "I don't mind the idea of growing old one day. When I do, I'll do so naturally and gracefully." I'd always been a Donna Reed fan. Everything is beautiful, organized, naturally lovely, right? In home and family, I fast learned the Donna Reed image was unreachable fiction. So how about aging? The romantics of two people growing old together has to be real, right?  Secretly, I wondered how and when the transformation occurred, while I admired and looked up to my seasoned lady friends. My grandmother donned white locks. I'm now a grandmother so how and when does hair go white; at 70? 80? Scientifically, I found the question fascinating.

New medications tainted my equilibrium, they also left me nearly sedated, and though it brought me to caring about very little, I cared that I couldn't think and barely functioned. The medication was shelved by my doctor. Loss still tampered with my blood pressure and we worked to balance out new meds, while doing a study to learn if the change in my health is stress related (so many deaths and life change at once, and that being too much) or life-stress related, where these kinds of stresses don't change because it's mid-life happenings and this is now the new normal. Medication balanced, and BP back in the 120's with "complete rest and withdraw from activity" I had my brain back. At one point during my nighttime routine, I glanced up into my reflection and saw white.

Dad Ries once told me, "Aging is not for the faint of heart."
People don't age gracefully. I'm convinced that in having a small taste of how people age, they must dig in their heels and raise their mitts like me. No one welcomes the kind of loss that breaks you. No one welcomes meds that slow your ability and thinking. No one welcomes the frustration of feeling twenty inside, but being told you can't work out and have to slow down to take care of your vital organs. No one had ever said that to me before and I hated it. Add "low salt diet" to those words and in a matter of days you feel you've aged twenty years. Again, I hated it. But there you are: mid-life empty nester like so many before you.
You try to figure out what that means and what this new normal will be like, and how you'll break free of the shackling you feel. You know something is different and don't know what is happening to you, or know how it happened to you, or when that change occurred, but you feel it in your bones and you just want it to go away and have your energy and vigor returned. And as soon as the doctor says go, you move, and you get active because you don't ever want your doctor to tell you that you have to stop moving again. And last, you ask yourself what personal progress means for you now, and ponder what is next, grateful for it all.

Marie Curie once said, "I was taught the way of progress is neither swift nor easy."
Aging is not for the faint of heart because of the fight; a fight for youth, for health, and for fullness of life.

When I was told by my doctor that I couldn't work out, I was told I could punch a punching bag.
Though I'm just returning to my weights, That punching bag continues to feel good.

A woman I sincerely admire is Eleanor Roosevelt. "A woman is like a tea bag----you can't tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water."
That about sums it up. Life isn't all easy street. Were that so, we'd have no purpose in being here. We're given trials, that we might overcome. Strength is the outcome, much like muscles broken down in a challenging workout to ultimately grow. We have power in prayer, in scripture, and in faith. But sometimes trial means you have to be personally strong, too.
When the physical war is on, women know how to fight.
The white is hidden beneath bold blonde.

To Teach His Own

It is 11:40 pm here in Madison Wisconsin, and I cannot sleep. My mind keeps racing back to earlier today to the creamery we patroned. Not to the little scene of delicious flavors seen in cups and on cones, not in the big smiles as two little Girls carried their Ice cream across the parlor. Not even in the tasting going on back and forth between girls and Mom and this grandma. But something else caught my attention. Something magnificent.

A small table behind us offered an interesting scene. That being a distinguished looking older man, confident and professional. His demeanor made me guess he was a professor at the University of Wisconsin where we sat eating icream at the agriculture program's creamery.  Across from him sat a very young woman. As they spoke, I couldnt help but hear. He talked about her potential and opportunities for her in "leadership."

They shared a few minutes of ice cream and he was obviously mentoring her, and she was receptive. The scene made me smile.

Somehow God places people in our path to help us to become who he knows we can become.

A warmth fills my heart as I remember such people who were instrumental in bringing me to where I am in my life's blessings and achievements.  I wonder where I'd be if Sally Olsen hadn't been my Beehive teacher. If I didn't every week see her white laced tablecloth with a picture of the temple on it. If I didn't see each week her husband come in and so thoughtfully help her to put her lesson displays away, and witness his adoration for her. Sister Olsen told me blessings are Gods promises fulfilled and that I could have the same happiness she had, and I felt her testimony of God's love for me. I believed her.

I wonder where I'd be if good teachers hadn't been in my path. Being a teenager can be hard sometimes. In fact, Somedays it stinks. My Theatre coach Ted Clearman who knew something wasn't quite right, could catch my low days and would say things like, if he were to have a daughter, he'd like her to be just like me.  My English teacher, Joe Anderson, who told me I had talent, and if I worked hard enough I could be a great writer, and who opened his home to me allowing me to babysit his children.  My drafting teacher, H. Lee Holmes, also my bishop-- who when my mother fell seriously ill, did welcome into his home for several months as a daughter. Influence unrestrained.

Kent Brown was perhaps my hardest teacher, my publisher and career guide. He saw me doing things I'd never conceived. Writing multiple books for print, leading and teaching writer workshops, speaking to large audiences, promoting myself and my works through media, school appearances, and signings-cracking the shell I was holed up in, he led me into the spotlight. It was hard as I was shy. He even appointed me as a trustee on the board of Highlights Foundation, which I so love, and served for years. I'm not shy anymore.

My husband. My wonderful husband is my greatest and will be my greatest mentor. Knowing me my strengths my weaknesses and loving me Deeply despite my shortcomings. Believing in me and always teaching me new and interesting ways to make me whole and my life so very full of goodness.
The influence of mentoring/ teaching is life changing.

It's interesting to look back at all the people who have or are now mentoring you. You can see traces of them in the seams that make up your life. My dear friend Mel, taught me how to be a good mother in my young mothering years. She taught me about eye level, and voice tone, and how to act vs react. I've no doubt God placed her in my life as well.

To teach his own, he's given us each other; in experience, wisdom, and inspirational epiphanies. I think of that sweet vision I caught earlier today and feel just a sweet fullness of gratitude for all who have sat across the table (metaphorically speaking) from me.

I pray I live up to your teachings, thank you for them, and hope to use them for good--without disappointing. 

The sweet thing about being given to, is that we then get to give to others what has been given. Giving back is the best when the table turns.

Doctors and Doctrine

"Do you drink?"

"No." I knew the next question so I just told her. "I don't drink or smoke."

(She's been my doctor for over 15 years.)

"Is this a religious thing?"

(… And here I thought this clever, fix everything, super-power pro knew all there was to know about me.)

"Yes. I'm a Mormon, we have this doctrine called the Word of Wisdom. It tells us smoking and drinking are not good for the body."

"Well, not smoking or drinking is wise. For a 50 yr old, you look 25!"

Interesting compliment and -Day made.

More interesting was her next question…

"I didn't know you were a Mormon. Isn't that the group that has 4 or 5 wives?"

"Nooooooooooo," and I think I said that with humor.  

For the record, Multiple wives--or polygamy--does not exist in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. The shows on television are not at all affiliated with any of the teachings of the LDS Church. I have one husband.

My doctor was very happy for me.

But as we talked, and as I thought about it, I realized there had been so many strange questions, which I thought I might address in case these questions really do go unanswered.

My favorite (since high school) has been the question, "Are Mormons allowed to dance?" (Thanks, Footloose.)  :)

Many know the film was made in Lehi, Utah, but it is all fiction.  You can Find LDS Teens at every stake center dancing away to pop songs with their peers. Mormons of all ages take dance lessons and some become professional dancers. Remember Benji Schwimmer from "So You Think You can Dance?" The church hosts adult dances as well, as with a Valentine's sweetheart dance each February. Mormons definitely dance.

Can Mormons drink Coke Products? This has been a question of many. There is no reason why Mormons cannot have Coke/ Pepsi products. In fact, church leaders came right out to make that clear. Where caffeine is concerned, everything in moderation. Everyone knows caffeine is addictive.

Can Mormons play with cards, Face cards? I'm not sure where that came from. But it is a question I have been asked. Perhaps some liken face cards to gambling. Regular card games are simple family games, just as board games. I've played Slap Jack, Crazy Eights, War, 21, Hand and Foot, Gin Rummy, 52 Pick up, and others.  I believe the issue is with where something can become an addictive behavior and place one at risk or one's funds at risk. (* 52 Pick up is only addicting to 7 yr olds, and only if they get to toss the cards.)

What's with Sunday? Sunday is different. My children never had trouble sharing that with their friends. For us we go to church and spend the day as a family. Practicing Mormons keep the commandment "Keep the Sabbath Day Holy."  I once asked a bishop what that meant, as a young newlywed and adopted his definition. As far as activities go, each family keeps the Sabbath differently, but for him it was not doing anything he couldn't do in his church clothes. Sunday is a day of rest, reserved for the family, as the Lord rested on the seventh day.

Do Mormon's celebrate Christmas? Mormons are Christian. Jesus is our Savior and we do celebrate his birthday and all the beauty that comes with that glorious season. Christmas trees, gift exchanges and brotherly service are all part of the Christmas spirit. The Mormon Tabernacle Choir has many beautiful Christmas recordings.

Why do Mormon's store food? One of the teachings of the church is called Provident Living, or self reliance. We're taught to live within our own means, avoid unnecessary debt, and to have a storage of food should we need it, as with situations where income is compromised. Many of us have had to use that resource as today's job market has become less stable. Sickness, layoffs, and the unpredictable can have adverse effect on the unprepared.

Why can't just anyone go into the temple? The temple is the most sacred place on earth to a Latter-day Saint (or Mormon.) Only a Mormon who is living set standards may receive a temple recommend. However, many temple's now have Visitor Centers where anyone can go inside to learn more about the temple and what Mormon's believe. The beautiful grounds are open for all to enjoy. Our local Portland Temple just opened a Visitor's Center last year on the grounds.

Is the Book of Mormon the Mormon Bible? The Book of Mormon is not a Mormon Bible, but a second testament of Jesus Christ. Mormons have a set of Scripture. The Old Testament, The New Testament, The Book of Mormon (a record of a group of people that left Jerusalem and came to the Americas) The Doctrine and Covenants (Revelations given to the Prophet Joseph Smith when he was prophet--you can read about the organization of the church here in detail) The Pearl of Great Price (another scripture which lets us have an eternal perspective and learn life is not just this minute fraction of time spent on earth--but how we existed before this world, and how we'll exist after.

Mormons believe in the church as it existed in Christ's day with a church President (Prophet) and 12 apostles and that revelation continues. We don't believe God would leave this generation alone without His voice. In the scriptures God talked to the people of the Old and New Testament, and we believe he does so in our dispensation.

Is it true the Mormon Church does not have a paid clergy? Yes, it's true that the members of the church volunteer their time and talents. They lead, teach, organize, and give. We receive what is called, Callings, which is an area in which to serve, which can be leadership positions as with a bishopric, or financial clerk, and teaching adults, youth, or children (including morning seminary or scouting, primary, or nursery children.) There are many, many callings and many organizations. All callings are important working together to create a magnificently working ward organization.

Why do Mormons research ancestry? The Mormon church probably has one of the largest genealogical centers in the world. Families are forever and genealogy links family past, present and posterity. It's a beautiful thing to know where we came from and what our ancestors stories are. Many Stake centers have Family History Centers, which are open to the public. Family is central to God's plan for man, and is important to many faiths, including the LDS faith.

At what age is baptism? For the Mormon Faith, a child may choose to be baptized at eight years old. Eight is determined to be the age of accountability, when a child knows right from wrong. Baptism is performed by immersion, as Christ was baptized. It represents the burial and resurrection of Christ. With baptism Mormon's believe all sins are washed clean and it's a new beginning. After baptism, one may become clean again with repentance.

I hope this answers a lot of questions and opens doors for others. I enjoy learning about other religions and hope you enjoyed learning about mine. I love my faith.

Mormons today are called Latter-day Saints.

To Learn more about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints check out www.mormon.org

From Apples to Understanding

I'm not going to log my personal progress in a book anymore. I've done that for I don't know how long, enjoying the process of completing the program repeatedly.  It's been fun, but having done that, I'm moving along. I'm almost certain no one reads these anyway. I write because writing lets me think and see truth clearly.

Daily living is daily learning. Every day is personal progress, as we choose.

I woke up this morning to finding myself back in Tigard going on a daily autumn walk I  once took with my young Jennifer. My mother was visiting. The walk was bright with the sun's rays warming our cheeks as our feet scuffed, sometimes crunching fallen leaves. I can still hear the sound. shh, shh, shh.

I can still see the lines on the gray haired woman's face. As she smiled they accented her eyes and lips in upward strokes. The happy lines only made her look happier, and made me smile, too.
"Hello," my mother said.
Before I knew it we were picking apples with the couple. We filled their basket, small talking as we went. Ruth talked far more than Wally and Jennifer became a magnet of attention.

I was shy, and my mother had opened a door. I continued to talk with Ruth after my mother returned home to Florida. I sometimes took them baked goods or jam. Ruth shared her sweet/ tart juicy apples. Wally talked sometimes, and I loved when they would laugh.

Ruth and Wally lived right next to where I attended church. One day we were having a large activity that I thought they might enjoy. That day was a day of learning for me.

Wally was outside working on his old truck when I approached him. I told him about what we called "Trunk or Treat," an autumn fest where we had an autumn dinner, played games, and decorated our cars for kids to trick or treating car to car afterward. Everyone dressed up and the costumes could be just as fun as the event itself.

Wally thanked me. He said they've lived beside that church many years. He'd been impressed by how people carried themselves and dressed in their Sunday best, suits with ties and dresses. They seemed friendly enough, he said, but he would never go to church because he'd stopped believing in God years before.

The change in Wally was instant. He suddenly became somber. I wanted to know.

"What happened that made you stop believing?"

Wally took me back to roaring planes and the blasts of bombs. WWII. He was one that stormed the concentration camps, freeing Jews. He spoke of seeing walking bones through skin, piled up dead, stench of rotting flesh and painted for me, the grimmest of scenes I still remember, and I wasn't even there. Tears were blinding as he brought me to his world.
"A God would never let that happen he said, what kind of God would allow a whole race to be erased? "That's why I can't believe. What kind of a God would allow such horrific suffering?"

My reply to him came slow. "I don't know."
I told Wally I was sorry he had to see such turmoil, but that I was glad he was there to save these people. I thanked Wally for his selfless service and told him he was a good man. "No I'm not," he said, "but I wish my wife thought I was."

I remember well how I pondered that conversation, how perplexed I became thinking about this lost hero. This man who braved the scene of death and suffering. This man who killed the enemy to free the dying, freeing a whole people allowing freedom and posterity.  And this man who never overcame his own bitter enemy to find peace and understanding, healing and wholeness.

One day as I meditated on Wally and that day he rescued so many, and the barbarian display he witnessed, the answer came to me. I remembered agency. God does not take away man's agency, but when I remembered that truth to pass on to Wally, it was too late. Wally had already passed.

Today where Ruth and Wally's little home sat, grand homes now cover the grass. A tall wooden development fence now stands where their apple trees once stood. Every now and again, I drive by that place, the place where great people dwelled. With Wally and Ruth gone, the world still turns and days bring change.

Despite what the world looks like, and the changes that come, be they good or bad. I am reminded of one that does not change. He helps me combat my own sufferings in trial, and my own enemies in my personal weaknesses.

God, our Father is the same for ever and ever and I am grateful to know that this is true.  This morning I am smiling, reminded that Wally knows that now, too.

Copyright 2013 Lori Ries All Rights Reserved.

On Stage Now...

This last post I posted I wrote a month and a half ago, I've adjusted quite well to the change of empty nests, and it surprised me. (The one with J leaving--not this post)

I just had the most unique dream and I feel like I should share it. Yes, it was that good.  I was so excited I tried to post it using my cell phone first thing, but it didn't do it justice as buttons were small and, in texting, the phone kept posting before I was ready or had the chance to edit.

In this stage of my life, I get to talk with all walks of women. I meet them everywhere. In my neighborhood, my writing life, in this world wide church...

Something that stands out strong to me, is that families are weakening. Maybe not yours or mine, but many. That's saddening. There are also many, many women who deal with the aftermath of missing fathers--either physically as with theirs leaving or divorce, or those just emotionally "checked out."

In many, many homes we are not lucky enough to have the Lehi best-case father scenario. That's just how it is. I believe many parents try to do their best with what they have and what they know. But there are the selfish. And that is by individual choice, and no one but that said individual can control their agency.

For those who are hurting, there is hope. That hope is within you.
Teach your children.

Last night, I dreamed I was part of a play. I stood on stage with my husband. We circled the stage, and when I came to the back part of the stage, this time circled with an infant. Then my husband took the infant in his arms and circled alone. Music began and a strobe light flashed as each time he circled he would do various activities with the girl, and other fathers and play daughters looking just a little older lined up to circle the stage. They flew a kite, roller-skated, rode bikes, fished, took photos, danced--did so many, many things as the strobe light made it appear the same father daughter with the daughter growing up. Then an older young woman danced with her dad across the front of the stage, and a young man appeared and she danced into his arms and they danced together going off stage and my husband walked alone with me and again we held hands, a little older, wiser, until we went through the back curtain. I woke then.
And I could on my own then envision the girl and her husband, their turn on stage with child.

Odd dream isn't it?
My growing years weren't perfect, just as many of my friends. But I look at my Katie and Dan and I marvel. We choose what we teach our children. We choose the values we display for them. And they, they can have the promised blessings of a healthy and whole family life.

Marriage is not perfect. The happily ever after of the fairytale is a dream. There are days when Cinderella feels overwhelmed and it shows in her unkempt hair after a long day of two in royal diedies.
Beauty has those days where she gets flustered with Beast's temper when he's stressed with work. Those wide fingers and sharp nails make keyboarding hard! And have you seen Snow Whites yard? The dwarves have their mining gear flung everywhere and Prince Charming won't help because he's too busy on the hunt, I won't even try to describe her kitchen after the lunch bunch.
Marriage is work. It is. It's work.  But if two people love each other, they can give and take to strengthen a marriage.
Marriage is sacrifice, without self-sacrifice. Marriage is also loving yourself so that you are fully able to love another. Marriage is trying to be the person your companion deserves, on both sides through the years. (That includes caring for yourself in health and appearance.)  Marriage is constantly inventing ways to keep the experiences of marriage new and exciting. Marriage is a learning and growing adventure where two people gain to become their best, celestial selves, in the end.

Don't let past baggage interrupt your marriage. If you have the past disrupting your lives due from serious past issues... get help. Don't hang up your marriage. With help a marriage can be as it once was.

If your spouse is not being the husband/ father he was and something has changed... communicate. Don't hang up your marriage. Talk it out and make some resolutions, it may not be just him that is falling short. You cannot know what one another is thinking if you don't talk, or write, if you're better communicating that way, but communicate.

Many things pile up, but they can be lived with. Unless someone is in danger or in an endless situation of torment and have already tried marital counseling, and there is no recovery... Don't hang up your marriage.

Looking at that stage, that girl growing up is each of us, the loving, ever present, ever guarding father--is our Father in Heaven. My lady friends everywhere, we are never alone.

In this day where Satan is working so hard on our families, recognize Our Father in Heaven's hand. He wants us to succeed. He wants us to succeed in our families and he wants us to teach our children to succeed in theirs.

There are simple things we can do to invite the spirit into our homes, to ease contention, and instill an atmosphere of solitude.
Do we have our personal prayer, in the morning and night?
Do we have personal and family scripture study?
Do we have family prayer with our families.

A bishop friend once told me he asks these questions in marital problem sessions.
Always two of the three are missing.

In strengthening our families, we can always turn to the perfect father who knows how to be a parent, and how to bring love and respect into our hearts and homes. After all, our children are, in reality, His.

Love your families. Be kind to your husbands and children. If they are not kind to you, call them on it, and ask your husbands and children to be kind to you. If it is past a bearable point, seek help first. Don't hang up your marriage. 

Happiness in the home is one of God's richest blessings here on earth.
I am grateful for my David and our own little family. I am grateful for the beautiful families my children now have. Katie's Ross is a wonderful man, and Dan's Emily is a wonderful woman. I pray this kind of joy will extend generations as our family grows and we continue to teach our children. My family's happiness is a wonderful gift in my life.

Something New

My stomach is twisting and turning this morning. That usually means I've gone too long without eating, or that something is up. In todays case, I know it's the latter. For the past three mornings, I've waken to the realization that after August third, I'll wake and Jennifer won't be here. ...so I'm now turning the situation on it's head to cope with that, finding myself telling myself, "in less than one year Jennifer will be coming home." I'm thinking about all the exchange student homecomings happening now.  J and I ran into an exchange Mom  at Subway just last week and she was so elated with just 36 hours and counting before her daughter, gone to Thailand, returned.  Jennifer and I are not just mother and daughter. She let me also become her friend at an early age and we are so close.

At first the exchange was exciting. We love exchange students, hosting and getting to know students from other countries and cultures. Although we went through the beginning outbound process, our elder daughter was chosen second to a girl who had experience with exchange students. We had none at the time. Jennifer has wanted to go on long term exchange since she was tiny, with a growing interest in the world's languages, and now for a year she'll be a student in Finland.

Up until now,  I've felt nothing but extreme excitement and an overwhelming joy for her. But the Momma heartstrings are getting tugged at these last days, and I'm finding since girl's camp that I'm selfishly grasping at every small moment I can find to be near her. She's at the Old fashioned festival right now gearing up to flip pancakes for Rotary's pancake breakfast. I just look at this girl and I marvel.

She's about to have so many amazing adventures, living in a place that can reach 30 below zero, among northern lights and frozen ocean, and, at the same time a midnight summer sun. Finland is a magical place filled with uniqueness.  School for her begins in two short weeks. New halls, new faces, new language, new family, new friends, new culture, new life.

At the same time, it's an amazing thing to be where exchange students gather. There's an automatic bond all around, and the pettiness/ cliquish social habits/ judging that you might see in a high school setting, among students, is not present. They're all instant friends on the same ground, in the same situation. I see Jennifer welcomed, respected, well liked, inclusion, and having been around youth in many scenarios, I think--why can't high school be like that? I see her learning, growing, stretching outside her comfort zone, and beyond happy. I see she belongs, and that she knows she belongs, and it's crazy. For Jennifer, it's perfect.

For me, it's going to also be new. I wasn't quite expecting to have the last of my children leave the nest two years early. What's it going to be like to suddenly have no children at home? To not have schedules that stretch my sane ability? What's it going to be like to shop for just two? Cook for just two, and sometimes one? So many questions and I just don't know. Especially now I'm glad to have my son and daughter in law at least near. And I'm glad my husband is working from home more. This change is going to feel strange. Even as good and as exciting as this situation is. I'm about to grow in a new kind of way, and I think I'm about to learn more about myself as well as I see how well I adapt, as Jennifer learns to adapt in her new surroundings. For her it's an experience north, and for me a North Experiment.

I am excited to see her journey through her. What an amazing opportunity! That keeps me smiling.  :)

A Place to Grow

For the next ten days, I'm going to share the experience I am about to have with Highlights Foundation to bring awareness of this great organization that serves writers.

In 2002 I was introduced to wonderful Highlights Foundation when I was given a scholarship to attend their Chautauqua Writing workshops for a week in nostalgic Chautauqua NY. Our family had fallen on serious hard times with my husband's company closing their doors, claiming bankruptcy, and throwing us in to immense debt after sending him on a trip to work in Europe. Then I had to have a rather hard surgery, and experienced hard complications so after being taken by ambulance late one night, had a second surgery to redo stitches. Third (they say they come in threes) when my doctor gave me the green light to be up and moving, he told David to take me to a movie and that night our car was stolen from the parking lot. Little did I know all three things were blessings.

Not able to move much, with my fast paced Mom life slowed, I grew weary of television, movies, books, and turned to my childhood love of writing for entertainment. I wrote two stories, and realized they were actually pretty good, got bold, and prepared them, and asked my children to mail them for me to the Friend.  Both were accepted in a quick turn around. Just days later I was holding two contracts. I was astonished and astonished by the feelings I was having. Something just happened here.

Highlights Foundation (Not the magazine, but the part of Highlights that builds writers) sent me something called "The Chautauqua Report." This was a copy of all the talks that were given by the renowned authors, editors, publishers that had come to their workshops the year before. The more I read, the more my, sponge like, desire to write soaked it up. I felt that I should Highlights to learn more. I was told to apply for the scholarship, even if I didn't think I'd qualify. I drew a breath afraid of failing and did, sending as my writing sample, a little story I called, "Rocking Chair Time."

I had no idea then what was involved. Since then, I've been privileged to serve Highlights in reading the pile of manuscripts sent in for scholarship/ grant consideration, and I am still so amazed that I was one of a number chosen, having seen for myself the level of writing I see when I get to share in that process.

While I had Highlights on the phone, I also asked about The Institute of Children's Literature. I'd taken their test years before, and somehow, even when I'd move they'd find me. We'd been scammed by a vacation company once, so I am not going to be scammed again. I learned that the Institute of Children's Literature, was not a phishing game, but is truly, not only reputable, but highly respectable, and many of Highlights Writers come from that Program--me now included.

Long Story Shortened my husband knew my passion and told me we would replace the car with something used and that the teens could drive, get himself a motorcycle, and with the rest of the ins. money he wanted to send me to the Institute to improve my writing and teach me to create. He added he'd give me Chautauqua if he could, but we just couldn't afford that.--Then, surprisingly, I did get a scholarship, bu was short $800.  What was interesting is that is the amount that was left after the car, after the motorcycle, and after enrolling at the Institute of Children's Literature. David gave me the money and said I needed to go. I found myself in Chautauqua, a scared newbie, well cared for by Highlight's Foundation. That week I wrote my first book, Super Sam.  My reader that week was darling Emily Mitchell, then assistant editor at Charlesbridge Publishing, and Charlesbridge published it in 2004. It was Emily's first acquisition and my first ever picture book. The experience in Chautauqua learning from the best changed my life and my direction in life, at that point I knew I was reborn, a writer, and my life could never be that same.

Today, The Foundation no longer holds their workshops in Chautauqua, but in Boyds Mills, on the Meyers Family Homestead here in Pennsylvania, where the Highlight's dream, that has served generations of children, was created. For years the Meyers (now passed) legacy has lived on in the very home where writers have gathered for workshops and learning with their esteemed mentors. The Meyers dining table has hosted hundreds of greats like Jane Yolen, Joy Cowley, Jerry and Eileen Spinelli, and many more. I, myself, have been privileged to lead workshops here, and it been beautiful to envision the Meyers children at play in the fields or Mrs. Meyers at the stove being a guest in their family home. Kent Brown, Grandson of Gary Meyers, along with the family, has kept this good going and growing.

Today the Founders Home sits quietly in sight while a newly built edifice buzzes. The barn is a large conference center, which now takes the place for Chautauqua, making these workshops, conferences, and retreats more affordable and accessible to more. Workshops for children's writers and illustrators are spread over the year, meeting all genre and interest needs. Professional faculty create workshops and opportunities to hone writer skills and learn what the industry currently wants.

Writers are cocooned in their cabins of serenity, and the writing energy is magic here.

So, What I am I doing here this round? I've been invited to a short workshop just before mine to sit in and learn about writing for religious and inspirational markets. My friend Kristi Holl is teaching "Sharing Our Hope."  I met Kristi at that first Chautauqua I went to. She is gifted, a writing giantess, a retired teacher at the Institute of Children's Literature, and a beautiful person. In a world where edgy is in, I'm very much looking forward to her light, in wisdom about writing around the challenging popular edgy market.

Then, my friend and editor Kim Griswell and I have been teamed up to assist at a non workshop- pure writer retreat to be go-to girls when the writers here need help with the projects they are working on. We'll have professional visitors and after dinner discussions/ writing exercises to get the group charged and united getting to know each other.  One on ones is something I really love, and I hope to be busy giving back what I've learned from the Foundation to Foundation writers that are here seeking wisdom. I'm excited for the stories I'll read and the time I'll get to spend helping with writing humps. There's nothing greater than to see a writer's eyes widen and a smile burst forth after a trouble spot disappears. Sometimes that's even followed by a hug because there's so much happy energy that has to go somewhere--then they're off writing again and share the finished product which can and has had me in awe. I've even set up meetings with my editor at Boyds Mills- and gotten a surprise in the mail when the book we worked on years later was published. That's the best!

It doesn't always work that way, and honestly, it's not what I hope for. My goal here is to give my all to writers so they can have a life changing experience. Whether it's giving them something new in truths that improve their creative process. Whether it's building confidence and helping them beyond the fear of failure or of visibility in the spotlight, whether it's turning the manuscript into something ready for submission. At Highlights Foundation we work with the individual trying to get them to that next level of wherever they are and beyond. All needs are different, and all writers are at different places in the journey.

For me, I'm just grateful to be able to continue to grow in the workshop that starts tonight and to have the opportunity to give back tomorrow.
My writing life is beyond sweet, especially here, where I was reborn, a writer.

Here There Be Dragons

I come away from this ANWA writing conference renewed, reenergized, recharged and with "grit."

And what I have to say, I say especially to my own children and to my youth friends--you know who you are.

I have "always" believed in my children, always. There are so many parents out there, who don't believe in their own children,  who don't open eyes to show what they are capable of doing or becoming, who don't mentor them toward success in life, education, or eternal life, who don't invest time with them to encourage the development of that gifted soul, and it's sad.
In my writing life-- especially when I go to schools on author visits, those are the kids I try to reach the most. If you have wonderful nurturing engaged parents that lift and build you, be grateful, count your blessings, and listen to them. Parents are your biggest fans!

I had the most incredible experience in meeting the magnificent James Owen. My heart is still racing. Not because he's superman (literally) donning a superman ring as his wedding ring, wearing a superman shirt under his dress shirt, and carrying a superman seal in his pocket, which his young son also carries when James is away. Not because he's a millionaire with a plethora of high book sales and is making a movie with the Lord of the Rings crew. Not even because he's so huge that I feel like a nymph standing next to him in comparison---but because of the words he said to me after lunch, when he invited our conversation to carry on, inviting me to join him at the lunch table. After many left, we continued to talk in depth as he shared his career story with me, and asked me to share mine with him--including my slump in being told again and again I'm good but not edgy enough and controversy sells. (Words to make me never want to publish again.)

"You already know you're good. When you're good, sometimes you have to bold and tell others their wrong. You can do this. You can do anything you set your mind to. You might have to revise your novels 21 times to do it, but you can, and it's worth it." Pause... "I'm going to give you a card, and right now it's what you need to hear from me most." It was a small card, a card with a red dragon. It reads, "I believe in you." He signed it for me and it's going on my computer.

Okay youth friends, listen up. If I've ever shared my heart with you, I'm telling you from the core what I want you to hear right now. With every tiny measure of matter that makes me me, I want you to know you are unique. Heavenly Father has a plan, (just -for -you.)  And if you listen, as He leads you along in your choosing correct principals,  You will hear him saying, "I believe in you. You have a greater purpose--(realization of what that is will come later of course) but here's the catcher, "I will not let you fall."
There is a story behind that last line that Jaimie shared as our closing keynote, but I felt that truth all through me, as I heard this from him.  You have a purpose (that is all your own) and your Father in Heaven will not let you fall. You will get bumps and scrapes, having to climb up some rocky surfaces sure---but in the end, you will reach that potential, and the view will be glorious. The younger you start making smart, bold, correct, and meaningful choices, the sooner you will find your way to becoming who the Lord would have you be. Your parents can be your greatest support. At age 14, this guy was already submitting to DC comics, and I can give you a long list of his unyielding boldness from there.
You can do whatever you put your mind to if you want it. But no one can help you if you don't want it. It's like the Chautauqua banquet prayer, "Help us to realize it's not who we are that holds us back, but who we think we are not." Realization takes bold action. As Jaimie put it Are you the kind of person who just lets things happen? Or are you the kind of person that makes things happen?
When he asked me at lunch, it was something I'd never thought about before. But, I have made some bold moves and choices. If I wasn't bold...I wouldn't be a published author, a public speaker, or talking face to face with Superman without shaking in my socks.

This was just what I needed to delve back in to my writing. My health back, my thinking clear, I am ready to come home and be bold.  I hope my youth friends will be bold, too.
This life is all about choices. If you think about it, and that word choices encompasses EVERYTHING this life is about--that's all it's about, choices. The rest falls into place according to our choices.  We can still choose right, even when things are tough and wrong in outside influence. That sadly might be home, that might be peers, that might be health, or the economy. We are all survivors, as we pass through whatever life wants to hurl at us with both hands. With trial we strengthen our resolve which just brings us closer to what the Lord has for us to do as we overcome and thus become refined.
And when life is sweet, it's very sweet. Who knows how much time any of us has---the point is to choose to use the time we have to our best advantage for our long term joy.
Got a dream?
Stand up, speak up, act up, be bold for you.
"I" believe in you. Face your dragons.
If you choose to follow God's divine plan for you,
He will not let you fall.

Potholes According to Pilots

Sometime ago, on a plane trip home from Highlights, I was privileged to sit next to a pilot. She was going home after her long route. We talked about how, ever since she was a little girl, she'd been prepared to fly. She shared the rush she felt when her father took her up in his private plane throughout her childhood, and of all the time she spent on the airfield. She said she was born with wings. As our own pilot warned us about upcoming turbulence, I asked the lady pilot how pilots navigated through the rough. She shot me a straight white smile. "Turbulence," she said, "is what pilots love best. They're like bumps in the road. When there are small controlled air pockets, you generally don't feel them because all we have to do is go higher or lower in elevation to avoid it, just like you'd go around a pothole in the road. It makes the flight boring for the pilot, but we like the boring just because it makes the passengers feel safe. Really, you're safe when you feel turbulence. Air pockets are just like bumps in the road, you just keep going forward because the bigger bumps can't always be avoided."

I thought of this conversation this morning, and caught a glimmer of a lesson as I pondered my latest trial.

I'm not going to go into deep details, but this past year,  numerous physical challenges effected my quality of life. I went from heels to flats, from outgoing to quiet, and have been laying low doing just what I can in some facets of my life, and nothing at all in others because I lost the capability to function in those areas--namely my writing and other areas of concentration.

I've been seeing doctors to take care of these changes as they occur. First, were harsh ongoing abdominal pain issues, then came midlife's physical changes, but the worst was the latest, which effected the parts of me that make me who I am. Balance, Muscle strength, and thought process, speech, and retention, memory lapse, concentration.  I was having headaches, ringing in the ears, strange changes for me. The change in my wellbeing was so quick, real, and frightening. I kept a journal of all the oddities I noticed happening with my mind and body, which served my doctor well.

My wonderful doctor, who has been my doctor for 14 years, is so good, and knew conditions with me  were not right.  First, she solved the incredibly painful stomach issues. It took some time but it turned out to be my diet; that being sugar substitutes doing more damage than good for my body.   Mid life symptoms warranted blood work.  She found B-12 deficiency and need for estrogen. The B-12 is a nervous system vitamin and just in case the gait/ functioning issues were more, she sent me to a neurologist.

Smart cookie that I am--I took my notebook and put in my symptoms altogether on Google. Up popped MS, and as I studied and read about the disease and saw the same signs, I wondered. I have friends living with MS and an aunt who died from it.  When I failed the neurosurgeon's finger to my nose test and then his heal to toe gait test, I was bothered and just came out with it. "Could it be MS?"

I learned Doctor's lie.
"I was going to do an MRI," he said, "and lets also do a contrast MRI to give you piece of mind, but no, I don't think you have MS."

Yesterday, I saw the several brain scans. And I saw the same person, but a different doctor. The happy, light tone of first meeting had changed.

I've been on B12 faithfully, and he told me to begin yoga to work on balance. I've been faithful and I am no longer as he called me, "a weeble that wabbles but won't fall down." There was no need for me to over correct to keep myself from falling. My balance was stronger. This time,  I touched his finger, then my nose instead of missing, and as we sat to look at the many scans of what he called my "beautiful brain," I was struck by the seriousness of his slow quiet tone.  "I was relieved to find no signs of MS," he said. He showed me what an MS brain would look like. My brain had clean lines and looked great all around. As he spoke, I realized that he thought I really could have had MS when he first saw me. That was the only reason for the MRI and contrast MRI. --and then he added in all seriousness with a cracking voice, how happy he was to see what he sees and that he hopes he never has to see me again. Adding he meant that in the kindest way.

You hate getting older because with every doctor visit, you fear with age that something will be found eventually. That moment when that solemn doctor unveiled his true thinking, opened my eyes. And as I thought of that pilot controlling what she has the power to control, I realized she's not so unlike me.

There are some bumps I can go around in choosing better. Health takes care, self discipline, and even self mastery.  I almost feel Scrooged, only instead of three ghosts, I saw several brain images. Clean. It makes me want to take better care of myself for keeping young, active, able, and fit.

As for the bumps I can't control...   I'll just keep going forward, and let faith smooth it all out.

Choice and Accountability #9

Making choices is part of Heavenly Father's plan for us. The bodies he has given us are our responsibility. Establish a pattern of wise body management by making a plan for workouts and healthy eating, including endurance, strength, and rest (sleep) and menus. Live within this plan for three months. Set priorities that allow you to meet your health and fitness goals. Record what you learn and how following these patterns will continue to bless your life.

Hooks and Ladders

Last night Jennifer had New Beginnings. --- I learned a lot about myself just in being there. I learned that I don't like to "let go."  Hooked to what was... I still blog and wonder if the girls/ women I love and served know that I still care about them and pray for them.  I realized I don't like letting go of them, of my Tigard Ward Family, of my old neighborhood. I've fought it. Hard.  I think that is why I get unhappy at times. Not all moves are easy ones even if the views are grand and the home is a dream. Home is where the heart is. In truth, locality wise, my heart, though I try, hasn't been here. It's been with Bishop Garner who helped my family through tough stuff. It's been in my old kitchen where teen boys constantly raided my refrigerator between invading countries in RISK or Monopoly and where girls taped three sets of twister games together and played in the family room or slept in tents in the backyard. It's with Erika who was just the truest of friends my confidant and trustee. It's with Laura Busby, who I dearly loved and visited as my children's and my own adopted grandmother. It's in the street where I gathered the neighborhood children and my own to play kickball, and playing decor with my neighbor lady friends, twisting my furniture this way and that, shopping and learning from them while we just enjoyed being girls together.  It's with a friend who shared her morning and blessings with me in our "Temple Tuesdays." It's with the primary children where I donned a red apron that reads "Sister Friendly" to share a literacy lesson. It's with my Young Adults boating, running through Uyajamajia scavanger hunts and corn mazes, and of course it's with my beautiful, elegant, and precious young women--where most are graduated or getting close to graduating. Merrying, Marrying, Mothering... They are amazing and they still hold my heart.
It's been so, so, so hard to let go. Especially up here where teen voices are hushed, there are no more friend or fun girl drop bys. The temple isn't a simple 7 minutes away. My neighbors don't congregate, visit, talk with each other. I'm the only one that sees my Christmas Lights. I'm used to a happy koolaid mom kinda house, lots of laughter and fun. Not silence. Whoever said silence is golden? Truly missed out. Remember the cherry on the hill from the last blog? It has not been as easy to get down and congregate as thought.

Men are that they might have joy. But Im starting to see that I've not let myself have that joy that Heavenly Father so badly wants me to have at this awkward lost stage of life. Even if I remained where I was...  Mommy days are done. Those kids are grown, even my Jenn is grown.  The Garners have long been in Alaska, Laura's passed on, the Becks--whose son Jeff did EVERYTHING scouts, eagle, mission, marriage, with our Dan, just moved. It's so strange how quickly life shifts and things change. I learned I hide these feelings behind seminary, school, writing--just trying to find my place here. It's a confusing place. Neighbors just don't talk to each other on the hill. And I really miss having a couple to play with like our Utah Niedfeldts or now Michigan's Jean and Bryce.  As people get older and no longer have little ones, do they really just stop playing?  You invite people over and they just don't reciprocate. I'm not used to wondering why I can't connect or feel a part when it was so easy before and we were a very large part of the ward (family), neighbor, and town communities. I think I'm learning the key really is in having young children.  Adults connect and play because their kids do.   I don't believe adults really think about connecting and playing just with adults as couples.

So that's been my hook. Let's talk about Ladders.

Last night at New Beginnings we got to listen to a Life Coach give us the 10 things she wished she'd listened to in Young Women, and to my great surprise, Michelle Young, gave me a gift in a ladder. She made me think and helped me to see my own problem in this hook---that really isn't realistic since it doesn't even exist anymore.

Here are the ten things.

1. No matter what I've done/not done so far it's okay. (That's involving life in general. Everyday is a New Beginning.)
2. Even if I follow the recipe (prayer, scripture study, FHE,--you know the Sunday School answer) My recipe isn't going to turn out like everyone else's recipe. Bad stuff still happens--but enduring the bumps along the way is better because of the recipe.
3. Eventhough leaders and others look perfect-they're not. Everyone struggles, everyone's flawed. Everyone's faking it. (hence, this blog.)
4. I can do anything I want to accomplish. (YES!)
5. I need to believe in myself, have faith in my Heavenly Father, and have faith in me. Personal Progress gives us the chance to explore who we are and who we want to be. (it brought me to my writing.)
6. It is important to fail. No one who has ever accomplished anything, has never failed. (That just took me back to Jerry Spinelli saying that "Failure is the stepping stone to success. We learn to fail and fail better." We just get to that awkward stage---and push through. (I liked that since awkward for me is now.)
7. Morality, Word of Wisdom, Repentance. The Atonement is such a gift. Christ does the rest when we measure short. (Hello? Midget here!)
8. The best scripture is Men are that they might have joy. I need to find joy in my path in the "real," "simple" things. I need to be who I am and enjoy who I am. (and not be so much of a perfectionist or afraid of what I hear again and again in others worrying they are not liked. (That's very new to me.  We need to not care about that and accept that's someone else's problem, not ours. People have issues and remember people, it's the small people that gossip. Gossip Hurts.)
9.Gratitude is the opportunity to have all we want right now. I need to be grateful for all I have right now. When we focus on the good things, more good will come. (I love that one. Gratitude is one of my favorite words, and in being ungratefully hooked, I lost sight of that.)
10. Charity is just about being kind. When I don't feel good inside being kind makes me feel better.
11. (She gave us a bonus.)
11. Embrace the small and simple things---I love how she worded this. "When (I) pray to my Heavenly Father I am with my Heavenly Father in that moment." (Isn't that a lovely thought?)

She presented these in 3rd person, I rewrite the messages in first because I felt them go right through me and pierce.

Now is the time for joy! That joy is for each of us!

So... to heck with hooks! I'm choosing this ladder to be happy in living where I am living and in proceeding where I am proceeding and am going to push through the awkward of the silent house, silent neighborhood, and silent playdates. This is the roller coaster whirl we call life. There's hills and there are valleys. During one of my deepest valleys, a friend gave me a coin that read, "Attitude is Everything."
I believe that.
Do you?

What hooks do you have, that keep you from progressing and finding that joy? Look to the ladder truths to climb from the rut.

I did complete my last goal--but the rut has shut out my personal progress for too long, so back at it...

Divine Nature #3

"Make your home life better. For two weeks make a special effort to strengthen your relationship with a family member by showing love through your actions. Refrain from judging, criticizing, or speaking unkindly, and watch for positive qualities in that family member....."

Make Every Day a New Beginning and shine on!
Love,
Sister Ries

Moving is like a Banana Split

Tabiatha was one of my many Young Women, and she had a glorious way with analogy. I think of her as I write this particular Personal Progress post.

Marachino cherries are found happily crammed together in a bottle. They're different in size maybe but pretty much they look, smell, and taste the same. So many marachino cherries grouped together gives a happy feeling, yes?

Well, now let's split a banana. Then, lets take a scoop of vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry ice cream. And lets then pour on some hot fudge, strawberry, and carmel toppings. Now we'll pile that a foot high with real freshly whipped cream. Are you picturing the gooey sweetness? We're going to sprinkle the top with a few nuts. Now, let's take one cherry away from its friends and put it on top of the mountain. Where's the fun? Where's the most flavor? Right. At the bottom with the congregating banana, sauces, and ice cream. Sometimes it's not easy being stuck up here with the nuts!

That's what it's like to move, and that means you have to make and keep making moves of your own. Changes, like moving, are a part of life. Those times when we go from comfort to discomfort will happen again and again in various forms.

Choice and accountability #2 is about making a move in weak spots. So the three focuses I've chosen to strengthen from "For the Strength of Youth" are: Service, Physical and Emotional Health, and Friends.

I've chosen service because service to others gives me a greater opportunity to know other people and to serve is to lift another.

I've chosen physical and emotional health because I struggle with routine and habitual work outs and I want to take good care of myself.

I've chosen friends because I put myself last too much and need to physically play with friends more. I see their names on Facebook more than I see them and that's sad.

I know sometimes we can feel like we have no friends. It may surprise you to know teenagers and adults go through those same phases of feeling alone at times. We move, or join a new community, school, or interest group and our social circle changes. Sometimes, that's hard.

So what do we do about that? Think about these questions. Do I stop to talk to my neighbor or peer or do I lower our eyes and simply pass by? Do I try to deepen relationships with acquaintances that might turn into friendships? Do I reciprocate invitations, when someone has invited me to their home or do I just let it lie? Do I sit idle and wait for another to make the first move? Do I give into my discomfort to just stay inside the zone? Do I accept opportunities to serve another? Do I get involved in my school, ward, community, interest group to broaden my social circle?

Who really makes friendships happen? We do. Old friends don't have to leave us wanting. In reality, we don't put a cherry back in the jar because it seems too alone. No, we bring it down to mix with all the flavors, and it is so yummy! Friendship begins with ourselves. Make a move.

Lessons and Legacy

Last summer I opened a fortune cookie that read, "You will acquire the highest level of intelligence." Really? I was so excited I blogged about the coincident quote. That was just after I applied to go to George Fox University. In time I was accepted, but with a school like Fox tuition was too pricey for my pocket. I opted for PCC instead, and was accepted straight away.

My intension was to attend full time, then transfer to Fox and come away with an English degree with a Writing major. I then planned to continue and earn an MFA in writing with a goal to become an editor, but my father in law wisely counseled me to take it slow and start with one class. I did so and learned one class right now was all I could handle. Then, in the midst of taking a second class, something interesting happened. Through the course of regular, ongoing intense study my energies went way down, I became constantly tired, and my writing went completely away. What? I was shocked as this once prolific children's writer could suddenly not pen one word--even in works in progress. The flow became null.

I could not get in-tune with that sweet place in serenity. Inspiration does not come without invitation, and with constant research writing and deadline worry, the invitation just was not there.

Constant and reliable, seminary became my grounding for balance. Every morning I'd rise at 4:30 and at 6:40 smiling but sleepy students sat at tables with eyes on mine waiting for enlightenment. And I learned that the higher intelligence I thought was a university experience, was of a different university, where the Lord was the teacher. That truth hit me hard as I stood before these bright stars, whose light always makes my day.

Sometimes what we plan for ourselves, isn't the Lord's plan, and we need to be careful to stay in tune and keep to that plan for balance and blessings. I now understand what was meant when my Father in Law told me, "It's not about the degree, it's about the growth of the person. For you, an education is about enlightenment."

How I love studying the Scriptures and opening up discussion with my students. I love listening to their ideas and wisdom. They teach me as much as I share with them. Seminary is my favorite part of the day, so much so that, while Jenn celebrates, I get bummed with every snow day. Today we started Job, and my kids were saying, "They should toss that story out, that's an awful story!" I can't wait to change their minds as we study further---we've just begun and Job is carrying a whole lot of weight right now, but bearing it in perfect faith. There's much to be learned from Job.

My last Personal Progress goal of daily prayer and scripture study has furthered my seminary experience in teaching, so much! It's also opened my eyes as to the importance of education, and "prioritized" learning. My desire for a degree is past. I just want to follow God's plan for me, and in simplifying---as you can see from this blog, serenity is returning as is the writing. I want to write for it is beyond sweet to me.

In Newberg, Seminary is changing, and though there are sad feelings of not having daily seminary, and of the unknown where only two teachers will be kept, I know that wherever I am asked to serve will be right, and that my personal in depth study of the gospel will continue as will my love of these dedicated teens who shake themselves out of bed every morning. They are amazing and a part of my heart.

I am happy for Released Time seminary coming to Newberg as it will open greater opportunities that might not be seen right now. Kids will be more alert and enjoy deeper study of the scriptures, and those who struggle with waking early will be blessed by being able to attend when they have the energy and capacity to really take in what is taught. Change is hard, but it is almost always good. So... as I wait to see what the Lord has planned next for me, I am continuing in what I have control over--my own personal progress.

So here we go! My next PP goal so my youth friends can know I am still working beside them as promised---Now is a perfect time for me to take on CHOICE AND ACCOUNTABILITY #2

*Read the pamphlet For the Strength of Youth. List each righteous behavior and why it is important to choose to live those standards. Practice living those standards and choose three to improve upon.

Have you seen the beautiful new For the Strength of Youth Booklet? It's been written just for us today! I hope Moms are working alongside daughters to go through your own Personal Progress Program, with our Father in heaven knowing each of us so well, as we go through this inspired plan, it becomes individually tailored in a beautiful way.

Onward and Upward! For my youth friends remember, Near or Far wherever you are, you are always in my heart. Keep stretching, keep growing!

~Sister Ries