Courage

We have had some sick kids the past week or so. Not terribly sick, just nasty coughs, runny noses, and Austin has "lost his lunch" a few times. As we discussed what to do about church today, we decided that none of the other parents want our boys in class with their kids just to pass on the ickiness. We decided that we would all go to Sacrament Meeting, and afterward I would bring the sickies home while the rest of the bunch stays at church. Our church starts at 1 o'clock. Normally, I put the twins down for a nap in the morning because otherwise they don't get one and they are definitely not old enough to not "get one" yet. But because I was going to bring them home after the first hour, I just kept them up throughout the morning.

As I was getting the twins into their church clothes and we were piling into the car with everyone, I wondered what I was doing. Why was I torturing these boys by taking them out of their comfy pajamas and into button-up shirts? Why was I purposely taking them to a place that requires reverence at the exact hour that they are normally just falling asleep? Why was I ushering our crew out the door only to return in an hour? My answer: To take the Sacrament. I was fasting (for a very good cause), and I felt I really needed to take the Sacrament today and renew my covenants with the Lord. So, with a smile on my face, we packed up the minivan and attended church together...as a family...so I could be obedient. (When church ran over by 15 minutes, and I had beyond-ornery babies all over me, each whine just begging, "For the love! Put me to bed!" I admit that I had a brief lapse of faith.)

When we sang the Sacrament hymn, I was very touched by the last verse:

As now we praise thy name with song,

The blessings of this day

Will linger in our thankful hearts,

And silently we pray

For courage to accept thy will,

To listen and obey.

We love thee, Lord; our hearts are full.

We'll walk they chosen way.

When we talk about trials and the "will of the Lord," so often we discuss the faith we need and the trust in "The Plan." While faith and trust are so important, even essential, I think sometimes we forget about the courage that it takes to truly accept the Lord's will and even more important when it comes to living it. So often, this life doesn't make sense and life definitely isn't always "fair." We live in a world where good things happen to bad people and bad things happen to good people. We want answers; we want explanations; we want reasons. Sometimes, we get them. More often than not, we don't.

Regardless, I believe that the Lord has a plan for all of us, and I believe that if we seek that path (or the "will" of the Divine), we will always find great love and peace. Once we discover that path, I think that is where the courage kicks in. Just believing is not enough. We have to find the strength and the courage to get up every morning and live the best life that we can. That is easier said than done. Some days, I give up before I even roll out of bed (and I have the blessing of having a strong, healthy body and mind). I think I will start praying for that courage. Courage to completely accept the Lord's will. Courage to do it with a grateful heart and a smile on my face.

The Thursday Curse

Date: Thursday, February 17
Absent: Dad out of town
Crime Scene: Mom and Dad's Bathroom

Description:

Culprit 1 uses toilet (number 1 and number 2). Culprit 1 does not flush. Culprit 1 leaves toilet seat up. Culprit 1 leaves light on. Culprit 1 leaves door wide open. Culprit 1 disappears.

Doorbell rings. Mom answers door. Culprits 2 & 3 (joined by a third accomplice, who shall remain nameless) arrive on scene.

Mom walks in to discover three small suspects surrounding the toilet, washing each other's hair with the water. Culprit 3 held a toothbrush in his hand. Culprit 3 was caught dipping toothbrush in water and then "brushing" his teeth. (Said toothbrush not shown in pictures.)

Possibly the most disgusting scene ever witnessed by Mom.

Date: Thursday, February 24

Absent: Dad at work

Crime Scene: Mom and Dad's Bathroom

Description:

Culprit 1 uses toilet (number 1 ONLY this time). Culprit 1 does not flush. Culprit 1 leaves toilet seat up. Culprit 1 leaves light on. Culprit 1 leaves door wide open. Culprit 1 disappears.

Phone rings. Mom answers. Culprits 2 & 3 arrive on scene.

Mom walks in to discover suspects surrounding toilet (for the second week in a row). Mom screams ("Ahhhhhhhh"). Dad walks in the door from a long day at work. Culprits are dripping with toilet water (off the nose dripping). Toilet paper covers surrounding floor. Walls are dripping of toilet water and wadded up toilet paper.

As all three culprits bathe, Mom plunges toilet and discovers a toy train.

They tell me that I'll miss this.

I have my doubts.

Look Not Behind Thee

*WARNING: To those of you who feel that this blog already has too many words, I'm just warning you that this one is going to be a doozy. My brain is full and I just need a good, old-fashioned brain dump.

So, I've been searching for New Years Resolutions for a couple of weeks. I really believe in New Years Resolutions, and I really want to evaluate my life and look for areas of improvement. Here are a few that I came up with:

• Read all four standard works this year.
• Get my house on a "cleaning schedule" (Monday: Laundry, Tuesday: Bathrooms, Wednesday: Floors & Windows, etc.)
• Cut out dessert.
• Stop swearing or yelling. Period.
• Get up at 6 every morning to exercise and read my scriptures before my kids get up.
• Have the house picked up and dinner on the table when my husband gets home from work.
  

I could call these "New Years Resolutions," or I could call them "101 Ways to Fail by February." Are these all things that I should do? Yes. Would they make me a better person? Yes. Have I already tried them (and failed)? Yes. They just weren't sitting right with me. Then, I saw this video. I knew that this was what I was looking for.

The story of Lot and his wife comes from Genesis. This was the time when the people of two cities (Sodom and Gomorrah) became so wicked that the Lord decided to destroy the cities. He warned Lot and his family. “Escape for thy life,” the Lord said. "Look not behind thee...; escape to the mountain, lest thou be consumed.” They did not leave right away, but did eventually leave the city. The Lord did indeed destroy the cities, but Lot's wife could not resist the temptation and did "look back." She was turned into a pillar of salt. Or, in other words, was also destroyed.

Elder Holland offers an explanation as to the nature of the sin of Lot's wife: "Just what did Lot’s wife do that was so wrong? As a student of history, I have thought about that and offer a partial answer. Apparently, what was wrong with Lot’s wife was that she wasn’t just looking back; in her heart she wanted to go back. It would appear that even before she was past the city limits, she was already missing what Sodom and Gomorrah had offered her...It is possible that Lot’s wife looked back with resentment toward the Lord for what He was asking her to leave behind. So it isn’t just that she looked back; she looked back longingly. In short, her attachment to the past outweighed her confidence in the future. That, apparently, was at least part of her sin."

Like Lot's wife, I tend to look to the past and long for it. Sometimes I long for it because I remember it to be easier; sometimes I long for it because I want to change my behavior; sometimes I long for it because I just can't deal with "today." Unlike Lot's wife, I don't long for the "offerings" of Sodom or Gomorroah. I think that Elder Holland's words express how I feel: "As a new year begins and we try to benefit from a proper view of what has gone before, I plead with you not to dwell on days now gone nor to yearn vainly for yesterdays, however good those yesterdays may have been. The past is to be learned from but not lived in. We look back to claim the embers from glowing experiences but not the ashes. And when we have learned what we need to learn and have brought with us the best that we have experienced, then we look ahead and remember that faith is always pointed toward the future. Faith always has to do with blessings and truths and events that will yet be efficacious in our lives."

These are a few things that I need to let go of and "look not behind":

• Guilt of Parenting
• Childbearing
• Forgiveness of Family Members
• Marriage

This is the key to my success (more words from Elder Holland):

"So a more theological way to talk about Lot’s wife is to say that she did not have faith. She doubted the Lord’s ability to give her something better than she already had. Apparently, she thought that nothing that lay ahead could possibly be as good as what she was leaving behind.

To yearn to go back to a world that cannot be lived in now, to be perennially dissatisfied with present circumstances and have only dismal views of the future, and to miss the here and now and tomorrow because we are so trapped in the there and then and yesterday are some of the sins of Lot’s wife.

“Remember Lot’s wife.” Faith is for the future. Faith builds on the past but never longs to stay there. Faith trusts that God has great things in store for each of us and that Christ truly is the “high priest of good things to come” (Hebrews 9:11)."

Throughout the year, I am going to try to remember this phrase: Look Not Behind Thee. I am going to try to work through a lot of my guilt and longing for the past. I am going to be better at living in the moment and having faith in the future.

R20M

My children each receive a daily planner the first day of school. They are supposed to write down their homework assignments daily and any notes from the teacher or correspondence comes home through these planners.

This is a copy of a page from Macy's planner from the 2nd week of school. Every word is carefully written out and spelled correctly (with the exception of a few backward letters). Notice her precise, cautious handwriting on Wednesday:

This is a copy of a page from Macy's planner from last week. She didn't even get the zero in on Tuesday:

I'm telling you...that girl has a talent, a true natural ability for getting out of work. She's very gifted, really. She definitely works harder at getting out of work than actually doing the work.

R20M has become our family code-word for taking the easy way out. Don't get me wrong, I believe that some things deserve a little R20M. Like my make-up for instance. If make-up takes me longer than 3 minutes, it's just not worth it. Or my car. I wish I cared about my car the way my dad does, but it is just so far down on the list. I can't keep it washed and vacuumed out, so I just R20M-it.

But, I'm afraid that I have taken the R20M approach to motherhood lately. I found a talk by Dieter F. Uchtdorf about work. He says: "When our wagon gets stuck in the mud, God is much more likely to assist the man who gets out to push than the man who merely raises his voice in prayer-no matter how eloquent the oration. President Thomas S. Monson put it this way: 'It is not enough to want to make the effort and to say we'll make the effort...It is in the doing, not just the thinking, that we accomplish our goals. If we constantly put our goals off, we will never see them fulfilled'."

Every night when my kids are asleep, I decide that it's time to step it up and put forth the effort into being more patient, more loving, more encouraging, and actually teaching them pro-actively rather than reacting to every situation. Then, the morning comes, and the kids can't seem to get out the door to school without my nagging and criticizing and yelling. I use the excuse that the twins are still so little and I'm just so exhausted, or that it's winter and being indoors all day is making us all so grouchy, or that they are just too young for certain lessons and I'll step it up when they are older, .

But the truth is that I am taking the R20M route instead of slowing down, taking the time, being cautious and careful, and doing the best I can. In the same talk, Elder Uchdorf also said: "The Lord doesn't expect us to work harder than we are able. He doesn't (nor should we) compare our efforts to those of others. Our Heavenly Father asks only that we do the best we can-that we work according to our full capacity, however great or small that may be." The problem is that sometimes I hide behind the excuse of "I'm doing the best I can" when that isn't really true at all. My best is not lingering in bed rather than getting up early enough to ensure that we aren't rushed in the morning. My best is not going straight to threats and anger instead of getting creative and exercising patience with my kids. My best is not throwing them in bed as fast as I can so I can plop down in front of the TV to watch my shows. Quite frankly, my "best" needs a swift kick in the behind.

Elder Uchtdorf makes a promise for hard work of any kind: "Work is an antidote for anxiety, and ointment for sorrow, and a doorway to possibility." I get so frustrated with my parenting and my kids and I do feel a huge amount of anxiety because of the choices that they make. But this promise gives me hope. It tells me that if I work harder, and sincerely put forth my "best effort," then some of that anxiety goes away.

Instead of R20M, I am committing to "Read 20 minutes" in my best handwriting. Starting today.

33 (for 2 more days)

I'm not one for birthdays-at least mine. Generally, I get very crabby and impatient (well, more than usual) around my birthday. Yesterday, I thought that I was actually doing pretty well with it this year. Tonight, I think that I am actually not handling it all that great.

It isn't the whole aging thing. Besides the fact that gravity seems to be winning the battle already, I actually don't mind getting older. In a lot of ways, I am starting to really figure out who I am and feeling pretty comfortable in my own skin. It also helps that I am married to someone 6 years older than myself. By the time I finally reach a number, he is over and done with it and I can see that he survived.

I think it might be the attention. I don't know. I think I would just die of embarrassment if Greg ever threw me a party. I just don't like all the attention on myself. A little strange coming from a person who writes a blog all about herself, right?!? I guess I feel like I can hide behind my words on this blog. There is just something about being the center of attention that makes me uncomfortable. And, whenever I'm uncomfortable (or frustrated or tired or embarrassed), my go-to reaction is anger. I really can't stand that about myself.

So, for my birthday, I think I would like to dig a big hole and climb inside for the day. Except for the fact that we can't find the ground in order to dig, and I am not about to stand inside a giant snow-globe for the entire day. I guess I'll just grin and bear it and pray that my family will forgive me for my orneriness.

I guess that will pretty much make it the same as any other day. :-)

Come on, does anyone out there feel this way about their birthday???

January Jumble

Greg to Paige: "You better watch it." Paige to Greg: "What are you going to do...blind me with pepper spray?"

Who can name the movie???

* * *

I was substituting in Primary last Sunday, and we were discussing how Satan tries to convince us that making bad choices isn't really that bad. There was a story about a prince who gets captured. His captors try to get him to do bad things like lie, steal, say bad words, be unkind to others, etc. When I got to the "say bad words" one, Gracie piped up and said, "Like b-u-t-t and h-e-double l?" When I mentioned eating and drinking food that will harm his body, one child yelled out, "Like beer," while another child added, "or Pepsi?"

You know, you really have it all figured out when you're 6. It must be wonderful to live in a world where the worst thing to put into your body is beer (or Pepsi), and the most offensive thing to come out of your mouth is "h-e-double hockey sticks." I sort of envy 6.

* * *

The highlight of Spencer and Kade's week is helping with the laundry. When they hear the laundry doors open, they come running-like-the-wind. They love to get the dirty laundry and throw it in the washer while I lift them up, and they love getting the wet clothes and putting them in the dryer. Their favorite part is slamming the dryer door shut.

* * *

My kids school has this amazing program called "Discovery" (run by my equally amazing sister). Throughout the school year, they have different areas of development (physical, service, performing arts, etc.) and they several different classes under the topic. They have people from the community come in and teach the classes (their ballroom dance teacher used to work for "Dancing With the Stars"). They have the kids for an entire afternoon once a week while the teachers use that for prep-time. I'm not doing it justice in my description; just know that it is awesome and the kids love it.

This session, Macy signed up for "Boys World" because she "really likes boys."

* * *

Greg went in for laser eye surgery on Monday. They did the surgery behind a glass wall so I could watch. While he was getting ready to operate, the doctor looked at me and asked if I always smiled like that. Greg's response: "Only when I'm in the room." The doctor thought he was pretty funny. (Don't tell him, but I do too.)

* * *

This is how Austin looked when he came up to say goodnight (why yes, he is wearing two pair of glasses - one for seeing and one for all of the dart gun wars you have while sleeping):

The kid cracks me up.

Private

Time to go private again. I'm happy to send anyone an invite, just let me know. Send an email to gremily2@aol.com or leave a comment.

The Parable of the Bagel

Once upon a time, there was a man and a woman who loved each other, at least they thought they loved each other. 12 years ago, they spent their days flirting, staring into each other's eyes, staying up half the night talking about everything under the sun, and prancing around town completely oblivious that there were other people living in the world. Their days were magical, enchanting, and they were blissfully ignorant in their little bubble.

Somehow, over the course of eight years, five children came into their home. The old enchantment was replaced with a new enchantment. The enchantment of giggles, slobbery kisses, and babies napping on their chests. Along with the enchantment came chaos. The chaos of tantrums, the onslaught of dirty diapers, and the never-ending colossal messes. The nights were still sleepless, but the dynamic conversations were replaced with feedings, combating nightmares, and cleaning up 3 a.m. sickness. Evenings of adoring couch snuggling were replaced with homework, baths, and hours of managing the debris.

Love endured; exhaustion ensued.

Then, one chilly December day, amid the background of family tragedy, this man and this woman spent the entire day apart, each frantically doing their part to ease the burden of another and keep their little family safe. It had been several days of tackling a crisis the size of which either had ever seen, each day bringing stressful, unforeseen developments. Exhaustion was replaced with endless worry, debilitating fear, and straight-up fatigue.

It was a Tuesday. Throughout their travels that bizarre, surreal, winter day, the man and the woman had each stopped to get the other a gift, a trifle really, just to say that they were thinking of the other person and thanking them for their selfless and endless contribution the last few weeks. Well after sunset, into the very late evening after all the children had been put to bed, this man and this woman were reunited. They both pulled out a large, square Einstein Bros. box filled with a baker's dozen of fresh bagels.

26 bagels in total.

Plus 4 tubs of flavored cream cheese.

The irony alone was tender and sweet and was met with a hug, an adoring smile, and a peck on the lips. Then, the tired couple opened the boxes to reveal the components. The man's box was full of Asiago cheese, toasted onion, and garden veggie spread. The smell of asiago makes the man vomit slightly, he detests straight-up onion, and vegetables mixed with cream cheese is possibly the most revolting flavor available offered by the famous brothers. The woman then opened her box. It was full of blueberry madness, cinnamon raisin goodness, and bright pink strawberry spread.

The man giggled as he grabbed his favorite fresh blueberry bagel, ripped it apart, and tossed a bite in his mouth. Then he reached out, pulled the likewise giggling woman into him, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. The woman rested her weary forehead on the man's chest and melted into his arms. She lacked the energy to even put her arms around his body. But, as had become the norm over the past decade (plus), his arms gave her strength, his love gave her hope, and his ironic, caring gesture made her pity that girl 12 years ago.

To think that young, 22-year-old girl thought she knew what love was...

Spiritual Lego

Sunday afternoons at our house are a "throw-the-rules-out-the-window-fend-for-yourself" type of lifestyle. I may be reading the scriptures about "keeping the Sabbath Day" loosely, but it works for our family in our stage of life right now. After we eat (which is more like foraging), people kind of do their own thing. Since we don't have the TV on, the kids are actually forced into enjoying each other's company (usually) while babies nap, Daddy's nap (well, there's really only one Daddy, and he is usually going to meetings or out on visits, but napping would be his choice if he were given one), and I read or pick up the kitchen (which is generally the result of foraging) or talk to my sisters on the phone.

Last Sunday, Austin disappeared to his room. A little while later, I walked in to find these (and he took the pictures by himself - he was so proud):

King Benjamin in his tower:

The stand that King Benjamin is on swivels so he can talk to all of his kingdom. Don't you just love the people that are listening. I'm pretty sure that is Darth Vader in the front/left (which is good because if anyone needs King Benjamin's message, it is probably Darth Vader).

Samuel the Lamanite:

Samuel is holding a book to try to preach the gospel to those disbelieving, helmet-wearing, unrighteous Nephites.

What do you think, could we market it to Deseret Book???

To read about King Benjamin, go here.

To read about Samuel the Lamanite, go here.

Reason To Get An Insurance Policy #267: The Child with No Fear

Come next Monday, we officially are without health insurance. The following pictures illustrate just one of the five main reasons why I am spending every spare moment researching, comparing, and applying to various insurance companies.

Would it really have been too much to ask to put just a drop of fear into that adorable little body???

Right of Passage: A Christmas Story

*Photos from a recent photoshoot by Fauset Photography

Last night, I took Austin to the store to make a Christmas list. It was so nice for us to spend an hour or so together. Sometimes I forget that this boy was my entire life for so many years. He is the only child that I had completely to myself for three years. Those three years are some of the happiest of my life. Even though Austin was my fussiest baby, I didn’t know it. I was young and naive and inexperienced. Ignorance really is bliss. I just pushed through those first few colicky months. Then, at five months, Austin learned to sit up and his world changed. He became this happy, creative, curious ball of darling energy. He was my little buddy. We did everything together and I truly loved feeding his endless curiosity.

Life got incredibly busy, and babies kept being born, and we started having struggles with Austin’s behavior, and I felt like a constant failure, and Austin changed from toddler to preschooler to little kid to big kid. We desperately needed some time together just to have some fun. I felt complete having my Little Buddy back for a few minutes.

On the way to the store, Austin explained to me (in depth) the ins and outs of Four Square. He is passionate about this game and plays “every recess.” I listened intently and didn’t have the heart to tell him that I easily remember 4^th Grade and Four Square.It was fascinating to listen to him explain the game and his strategy.

I was pleasantly surprised to see how picky he was when it came to his Christmas List.I thought that he would just write everything down that he found, but he didn’t. He was very selective. Even when he found something that he liked, he read the box and really took the time to decide if it was “List Worthy.” When we were walking out of the store, I explained to him that he doesn’t get everything on his list, just a few. He made the point that there weren’t very many items, but I pointed out that some of them are quite expensive (Harry Potter Lego sets come with a pretty hefty price tag). He said, “Yeah, but he doesn’t pay for them?” I said, “He?” Austin responded by saying, “Well…whoever gets the toys.” I asked him who he thought that was, and he hesitatingly said, “You?” (He even looked out the window instead of looking at me when he said it, as if he was guilty or something.) So, I smiled and shook my head.

He was pretty surprised as we talked about how Dad and I are really “Santa.” When one idea would sink in, he would ask more questions. “You are the one who wraps all the presents?” “You are the one who writes the notes?” “You eat the cookies, too? Or do you just break them up?” “How do you disguise your handwriting?” Then, he told me “I guess it is pretty impossible for one person to visit every house in one night.”

I sat there and got a little choked up thinking of all the Christmases that we have spent together. Austin is an absolute joy to buy for. He always gets so excited about his presents and everybody elses. And he has never been shy with his excitement. Every Christmas Eve I find it difficult to sleep because I can’t wait to see the surprise and exhilliration on his face. If I could bottle up Christmas morning, I could market a new antidepressant. It was so sad to see my little boy growing up and losing that part of his childhood.

Then, I started explaining that now that he’s in on this secret, he gets to play Santa with us. I told him how, on Christmas Eve, we’ll put everyone to bed. Then, when the girls are asleep, we’ll get him up and he can help us stuff their stockings. Right away, he started planning how he can find out about Macy’s favorite treats and how she’ll never suspect because she still believes in Santa. Then, he can tell us so we can get her exactly what she loves. The wheels in his brain kept turning and had all these plans for his sisters.

I started getting choked up again, and I told him how much I love being Santa and believing in Santa. I told him the legend of the real Saint Nicholas and how the legend began. I said, “Think about how much you enjoy getting presents on Christmas. Giving them is about a thousand times better.” I told himhow I think the world is a better place by having the “idea” of a Santa Claus. How amazing to have a person whose entire purpose is to give all the children in the entire world gifts. It’s just a happy thought.

Every year I struggle with the commercialism of Christmas. I want my kids to experience the magic of Christmas, and yet have the birth of the Savior and the “reason for the season” be at the forefront of the Christmas season. Over the years, Greg and I have tried several different tactics to help our kids feel the real meaning of Christmas and try to help them find the joy in giving. In that car, I realized that this is the first year that Austin will really “get” it, and I was full of gratitude. He’s not my little boy anymore, but at moments like this, I realize what a strong, giving, loving, and adoring spirit I have in my midst. And I am excited to show him, firsthand this year, how giving can truly be better than receiving.

Let the real magic begin.

The Season of Giving

"Blessed is the season which engages the whole world in a conspiracy of love!" - Hamilton Wright Mabie

I know that we just had Halloween and even though the Christmas music has started, most of us probably aren't ready to start our celebrations. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE Christmas. But, I do like to enjoy my holidays one at a time. I am very much looking forward to Thanksgiving and then enjoying the holiday season (which I define as the month of December).

So, you are probably wondering why (if I feel this way) I am posting about Christmas. Well, in light of my last post, I just wanted to tell people of an opportunity to give this holiday season. As awkward as it is for my family and I to ask for help, the reality is that since Curtis's accident, he has not been able to work. Therefore, in addition to all of the medical bills, there has not been any income for over three months. At this point, Alexie is the main caregiver (trust me, it is an around-the-clock job), and is unable to go out and get a job to support their family.

In an effort to help, a donation account has been set up. I know that a lot of you look for opportunities to help during the holiday season, whether it be in the form of Sub-for-Santa or monetary donations as the year comes to an end for the purpose of tax advantages. I also know that there are so many amazing causes out there to support. I wanted to get the word out that this is just another opportunity to help a family that has suffered from an accident that was not their fault but is left with the repercussions.

Thank you to all of you who are so concerned with our family. We are so grateful for your love, support, and prayers. I feel so blessed to be surrounded by so many good, GOOD people.

Donation Account: #569353865 at Zion's Bank in Curtis's name.

Since every post deserves an image, here are some pictures of my sister's family from last Christmas:

"The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other." - Burton Hillis

The Parable of the Curve Ball

*adapted from my dad's testimony last month.

When a batter steps up to the plate, he/she never knows what type of pitch is coming. One of the most difficult pitches to hit is the curve ball. The curve ball is thrown with spin so that its path curves as it approaches the batter. Hence, a pitch may look like it is headed in one direction and unexpectedly change paths. A good hitter can judge the curve ball by following the spin as it leaves the pitcher's hand. By following the threads of the baseball, the batter can anticipate the break and make adjustments before the curve occurs. However, sometimes God can throw a pitch with a baseball that doesn't have any threads, making it impossible to judge directionality.

On August 1st, this is exactly what happened to my sister and her family. It started out as a typical Sunday, except Alexie (my sister) was just recovering from a stomach bug that had been floating around the family for several weeks. She stayed home while her husband, Curtis, took their two children to his parent's house for dinner. After dinner, they started a movie so it was quite late by the time he left for home. With Abby (4) and Max (2) safely fastened in their car seats, Curtis headed for home. The kids were both asleep within minutes of leaving.

About five minutes from home, Curtis approached an intersection. He slowed due to the red light, but when the light changed to green, he stepped on the gas. In the middle of an intersection, a young girl, talking on her cell phone, ran the red light and smashed directly into Curtis going 40-45 mph. She was not paying attention and did not break. The children were rushed to the hospital, but released the next day with aches and pains and Abby had a broken arm, but otherwise just fine. Curtis, on the other hand, was life-flighted to the hospital and spent the next month in the SICU (Surgical Intensive Care Unit).

I believe that the original accident report actually recorded it as a fatal car accident. He was in extremely critical condition. He spent the next couple of weeks unresponsive while undergoing several surgeries. There was extensive damage to the abdomen, but the brunt of the injuries resulted as a brain hemorrhage. The bleeding and swelling of the brain became the main focus of everyone involved for the rest of the month. At one point, my sister counted 17 tubes going in and coming out of her husband to keep him alive.

When it became apparent that Curtis was going to survive, he was given a permanent shunt and became a Brain Injury Patient. Then, the rehab began. He spent the next six weeks in Inpatient Rehab. The best was to describe his injuries is to compare it to that of a stroke victim. His spine and spinal cord are intact, but because of the damage done to the brain, he is having difficulty "recognizing" the left side of his body. (He calls his left arm "George". It's good to see he has a sense of humor about it all.)

The miracle is that Curtis was able to come home a few weeks ago. The improvement he made during inpatient rehab was remarkable and truly astonishing. However, the journey is far from over. He is wheelchair bound (for now - we hope and pray). He is still unable to move without assistance. He is working on learning how to speak again, and eat again, and move again. He is on a restricted diet, but desperately needs to gain weight (he is 6'4" and weighs less than me).

Just in case Alexie wasn't positive that she knew the real meaning of "Trials," Max broke his leg the day that Curtis came home from the hospital. This was on my watch, and I could not feel more terrible. So, she brought her husband home for the first time in 2 1/2 months only to turn around, drive back to Primary's and spend the night with Max. The break was high up on his femur, so both of his legs are in a cast just to make sure that it is completely immobilized. Here is my sweet, strong, beautiful sister (six months pregnant) with two people who are unable to move without her help.

We never know how high we are

Till we are called to rise;

And then, if we are true to plan,

Our statures touch the skies-

- Emily Dickinson

I just want to say what a truly sweet experience this has been. I think that one of the reasons people stand up in Sacrament Meeting and express gratitude for their trials is because when you are in the depths, the Lord opens his heart even more and pours out miracles. You have to look for these miracles because sometimes they can be difficult to see through the surgeries, beeping life-support machines, insurance claims, utility bills, injuries, tears, sleepless nights, pain, and frustration. But I have watched as my sister and her family has been blessed by so much love and generosity. I have watched Curtis and Alexie dig really deep when they were sure that the "well was empty" to find strength and courage and perseverance that they didn't know existed. I have experienced quiet, personal moments with Curtis and Alexie and have felt the love of our Savior so deeply. I have felt that Alexie and I (and all my siblings) were sent to our amazing parents and to each other for very specific purposes. Old wounds have been healed as we have recommitted ourselves to seeing the best in each other and being so full of gratitude to have each other. I have watched as hundreds of people have come out of the woodwork to do their part to ease the burden. It has been nothing short of incredible and our family has been blessed by an outpouring of unconditional love.

Some days, we all find the wisdom, courage, and strength to actually hit that curve ball. A lot of days, we miss it and have to get back in that batters box to wait for the next pitch. Most of the time, we are just trying to put a smile on our face and be grateful that we get to play the game.

"Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of time running around shouting that he's been robbed. The fact is that most putts don't drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to be just people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual toleration, most jobs are more often dull than otherwise. Life is like an old time rail journey...delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders, and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas, and trilling burst of speed. The trick is the thank the Lord for letting you have the ride."

- Gordon B. Hinckley

Alexie has written about the accident in great detail on her private blog. She has written almost daily if you want to read about the last three months in greater depth. If you are interested, please email me and I will get you an invite.

My Career in the Circus

Do you ever get the feeling that you may have missed your calling in life? I'm sure most people think about things like medical school, acting, or some sort of career in politics. Me? I think I should have been a circus performer. Plate spinning to be specific. Or maybe just perfect the craft so I could be a guest on Letterman or Leno.

I feel like I've got all of these plates going. Somehow, one by one, I've committed to all sorts of different things. When I say "yes," up goes another plate. At this point, I really feel like I've reached my max. Right now, I've got all these plates spinning and I spend my days running back and forth just trying to keep them all going. As I'm spinning one, I start to notice another one that starts to teeter. Very quickly, I notice that the teetering moves to wobbling which moves to dangerously close to stopping. But, in the nick of time, I am able to sprint over and get it spinning again. I am trying my best to do it with a smile on my face (rarely am I wearing an evening gown though), and although I go to bed exhausted every night, it is a good exhaustion. I'm managing. I'm thriving. I'm learning. I'm growing. I'm loving. I'm feeling loved.

But I'm telling you all right now: If I am handed another plate, it is all going to come crashing down.

(And you know what? If you look closely, you'll notice that the plates really aren't all that clean.)

The Gospel According to Macy

Macy was assigned to give a talk in Primary on Sunday. So, we talked about how she can quote a scripture on following the prophet and then state that she heard President Monson speak last Sunday. He spoke on gratitude, and she can follow the prophet by being grateful. To prepare for this, we made a list of things that she is grateful for and she is going to draw some pictures. She started with this picture of her holding hands with Heavenly Father and Jesus.

The first draft of the picture just had a few stick figures and it was kind of sloppy. So we talked about what her teachers at school teach her about what makes a good picture: details. So, she started over with the goal to put in some details. As she was drawing, and I was wiping down the counters, I glanced over and complimented her on her details - including the fact that she even colored in the background. That's when she pointed to the blue rectangle and said, "Yeah, and that's a Rock Wall."

Greg observed that "of course there are Rock Walls in Heaven, and you probably don't even have to use the harness."

* * *

There have been a lot of questions around our house about injury, healing, and death. For the first few weeks after the accident, we really didn't know if my brother-in-law was going to live. We prayed for him, and my kids asked some questions. One day, Macy asked if Curtis was going to die. I told her that it looked like he was going to live, but we really weren't sure about the extent of his injuries (this was probably about a month afterward). At the end of our conversation about living and dying and timing, she threw her arms up in the air and said, "Well...It's up to Jesus...He's the one who gets to decide...No one else can decide."

Sometimes I wonder if we are raising a Southern Baptist, but in the end, I guess she is right - It is up to Jesus. Now, if it were that easy to accept it. I'll have to chat with my daughter. Maybe she has some pointers. Never underestimate the wisdom of a 6-year-old!