Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Overheard . . .

. . . at Stake Enrichment meeting last night (speaker: Fred Riley):

"The way to tell whether you truly love someone: you care more about that person's relationship with himself than you do about his relationship with you."

I'm still pondering how this applies to my teaching and, especially, to my family relationships. This is BIG!

p.s. I'm outa here. Hope you all enjoy the snow. See you in about two weeks!

Tuesday, January 29, 2008

Oh, that I were an angel . . .

This morning I read Alma’s heartfelt wish to be an angel and cry with a voice like a trumpet to every people. And then his realization that he ought to be content with the call he’s been given, with the opportunity to be an instrument in the Lord’s hands without wishing the Lord would use him in a different operation. I love this chapter; it always speaks to me. Sometimes, when the stars are aligned and I’ve been living right, I get on a spiritual high and feel such yearning to do great things in the Lord’s hands. And even when I don’t feel that desire to do something GREAT, I always want to be doing something good, to contributing to the work in some way or another, adding to the goodness in the universe.

Oh, yes, I feel it all—in theory. But it’s when it comes down to the nitty-gritty that my valiant desires get lost somehow. Like when I finally make it to bed at the end of the day and am just drifting off and there is that so-familiar little tap on the door that means that one of the boys has waked PAST THE BATHROOM to tell me that he needs a drink. Or to tell me something he suddenly remembered is due tomorrow. Or to tell me the what the chair in his room looks like in the dark. Whatever. Suddenly, the only thing in my mind is “Must . . . get . . . back . . . to . . . sleep!” Or, if a second motivation comes, it’s “Must . . . teach . . . child . . . some . . . discipline!”

Never do I think, “How can I be an instrument in the Lord’s hands at this exact moment?”

Why is it that I’m always looking beyond the mark? So intent on doing great things, I overlook the small ones, the ones that could do great things inside me, change my character and make me more like Christ—and which also might make a big difference, over time, in the lives of those I love the most? I’ve become too farsighted, refusing to focus on what’s in front of me. I do sin in my wish and ought to be content. I resolve to do better.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Long Live the 80's



So we fashionable Segullah chics had an 80's party. I thought you might like to see my get-up. Roger, who, like his wife, left his fashion sense behind once we hit 1990, looked at me in my design and said, "Why don't you dress like that more often?"

Please especially note the legwarmers (a sweater in the D.I. pile gave its sleeves for me that day) and the big bow (my hair was not long enough for the banana clip that I have religiously saved since 1985). I tried to get the bangs-to-heaven, but not sure I succeeded.


That's me singing Thompson Twins's "Hold Me Now." I discovered, as I tried to match the melody line to earn points in this game, that in the 80's I always sang harmony, not melody. I'm really good at the back-up singer's part on every song. Here, I'm trying not to sing (falsetto), "In yer lovin' arrrrms . . . Oh, my poor and tired hearrrrt . . . why don't you stay with me?" etc.

During the 80's, I worked at the coolest place to work in the 80's, the 49th Street Galleria. I remember watching a couple come in once who were obviously stuck in the 70's. I wrinkled my nose and thought to myself, "That will never happen to me." And now it has. I make my little efforts to dress at least in the last decade, but I know I am failing miserably because I have no idea whether I'm passing or not, nor what I should change to look more modern. (Is it too late to try growing out my bangs again, or are we back to bangs?) I only know that everything in the stores is ugly to me. So I must be way, way out.

Other than being stuck in the 80's fashion-wise, I wonder whether I look my age. What do you think? In these pictures, you can't see the wrinkles around my eyes or the gray roots in my hair. I almost look like I'm still eighteen, right? (I'm going on thirty-eight. I guess that's a good excuse for not knowing how to wear my hair these days. But I still feel too young for the "abandon all hope and get an old-lady haircut" stage.)

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

Do what you can for Mormon Lit: buy this book!

I just want to give you all a heads-up about something that I think is groundbreaking. Angela Hallstrom (who happens to be my friend, but this is beside the point) has written a book that I think could do something amazing for Mormon Letters. This book is thoughtful, well-written, and a dang good read. What’s more, it has no shocking elements, it’s plot doesn’t depend on whether people will stay true to the church, and it upholds faith without making faith into something shallow. (That’s the groundbreaking part—that it can have all that good without being sentimental or trite or, as I said, shallow.) I’ve read it and loved it. I especially recommend it for women and women’s book groups. If you’re in a book group, try this book out and let me know what you think. I want to know if the women respond to it the way I predict: Wow! I didn’t know Mormon lit could be like this!

Hurray for Angela and Parables for showing us it could be done! Now let’s show them that we’re grateful by supporting it (buy the book). Let’s show them that good LDS lit does have a market (buy the book—buy two or three; Mother’s Day will be here soon). How this book does, commercially, will send a message to other publishers (buy the book).

And, of course, besides caring about what this book can do for the future of Mormon lit, I also care about what it can do for my future as a writer, because although she is much more talented than I am, Angela’s stuff is a lot like mine, and my book would be the same type (buy the book). So I’m hoping it will do very well.

All that aside, it’s a good read, as I said. You’ll like it.

Monday, January 21, 2008

I love Sundays

I love Sundays. Don’t you? I even loved them last year when our church met 1:00-4:00. But now we have my favorite schedule, 9:00-12:00. Except that means that I have to make a decent lunch and dinner, which I somehow managed to never do last year, since by 11:30 we were in a hurry and no one cared what they ate. I hate thinking of what to eat and, since I rarely plan ahead, I’m hurting more often than not. (Yes, I know. I could fix that by actually planning. The thing is, I end up spending LOTS more money on groceries when I plan than when I don’t. I know, I know, it should be the other way around. But for us it’s not. Don’t know why—except that we’re cheap, and usually eat canned chili when there’s nothing else as opposed to going out.) So the best thing about our upcoming cruise (10 days! Had to get that in here somewhere) is that for twelve days I will not have to think of what to cook!!!!!! Is that not worth the price of the ticket right there?

Anyway, as I was saying. Sundays are the best. I think it’s because I get to do so many of my favorite things with so many of my favorite people. I love being at church. I love, love, love the people in my ward, more than they will ever know, I think. I love sitting on the stand and looking at everyone, and smiling at them while I lead the music. I am short, so when I lead the music I stand at the front corner of the little raised area (what do you call that, anyway? A dais?) to lead the music. Which means that my behind is pretty much in the face of the speakers. Which I feel a little self-conscious about. Yesterday the speakers thought it would be funny to make little remarks to me behind my back (literally) while I led, so it was hard to keep a straight face.

I love being in the halls between classes and saying hi to everyone. The kids think we’re friends now ever since I led the music in primary (sniff—still not over that). I love how kids are like that. In fact, I was playing the “tell me who loves you” game with my youngest and, after naming the people in the family, he named Sister Schmidt, the secretary in the primary presidency. Is that cool, or what? That he would believe, with all his heart, that this woman loved him. I love wards, I tell you! In the hall yesterday I saw one of the sisters (and there are very many in this ward, sadly) who is struggling mightily with her health right now. She was wearing her new wig for the first time since chemo started. And she looked so cute in it! Of course it was weird, but I had to tell her so. I just trust that she felt my sincerity and love.

That’s the name of the game, my friend. In a ward, you’ve got to trust to love. Trust that others feel yours. Trust that others have it for you. Trust that if you don’t have it, it will come.

I love teaching Relief Society, which I got to do yesterday. It’s weird how I have evolved as a teacher. I mostly love doing it because it’s the one way to guarantee I won’t be bored with the lesson. But I have to admit that I secretly suspect that I might be good at it. I suppose it’s OK to think that, seeing as I’ve been trained as a teacher. But, you know. The whole humility thing. Which is a little bit the way that I have evolved. I used to be pretty spectacular—not in the handout way, but in the really cool outside sources, thoughtful asides, metaphors, and poetry/musical numbers way (don’t believe in handouts) (nor centerpieces for that matter). But I think I’m getting closer to understanding the interplay between my skills and the Spirit (and the way that humility is the glue) these days. My lessons are getting less breathtaking. My goal is that the women will leave the room with more love for themselves, for the Lord, and for each other, not with a greater appreciation for Darlene Young. I don’t want them to look back and say, “Wow, that was a great lesson.” I want them to look back and say, “Wow, the gospel is cool and I feel good.” I think I’m improving in that goal.

I love choir practice. All the really cool people are at choir practice, don’t you know. I remember Orson Scott Card wrote about that a little in his book Lost Boys—about how the key to getting into a new ward and really feeling part of it is to join the choir. Amen.

And then the best part of Sunday: spending long periods of time just reading to my boys. We have a great tradition of reading The Friend magazine together on Sundays. I also read whatever chapter books we have going as read-alouds right then. Last night the older boys and I finished A Swiftly Tilting Planet (sorry but I can’t tell what I ever saw in it before—or why it got an award. It was sloppy and confusing and boring) and the younger boys and I read a few chapters of The Magician’s Nephew. Joy, joy, joy! Reading with my kids is my absolute, number 1 favorite thing to do as a mom.

Finally, we are often lucky enough to be invited to a grandma’s house for dinner on Sunday (see “hating to decide what to eat,” above). What’s not to like about showing up, eating, and hanging with cool people?

So that’s why I love Sundays. How ‘bout you?

Thursday, January 17, 2008

I hate winter

Well, I suppose I should post a new blog.

Obviously, I’ve been avoiding this. There’s not really a good reason. I think I just got bored with it. This month I started another “poem-a-day-for-thirty-days” commitment (one of my New Year’s resolutions). So I’m putting any poetic thoughts I have into my poetry. This is my second time doing this, as you might recall. This time has been different for me: I have spent a lot less time perfecting things and more time just dumping. I’m trying to give my subconscious more free rein. I hope, and believe, that the poems will end up better that way. Some of the poems that have turned out to be my best, or at least the most popular (not necessarily the same thing) are the ones that I hold less tightly to, the ones I just sort of brain-dump on (“Dying Hair” “Angels of Mercy”).

So, let’s see. I’ve been feeling more optimistic about my health lately. I’ve had more good days in the last few weeks than I used to have. That is, the proportions are increasing in a good way. I am very grateful for any progress I make, and for being able to notice it. The kids are finally back in school and Peter and I are adjusting to being just by ourselves again. We’re counting down the days until our big cruise and it is darn hard to get through these long, cold days on the way to it. I do not like winter. I do not like being cold, Sam I Am.

My oldest will be twelve in a few weeks. I took him to pick out his brand-new, fancy-schmancy very-own scriptures the other day. It was a Mommy-reward day, I tell you. He was SOOOOO excited. Worried that he wouldn’t think the scriptures were a cool present to get on this Big birthday, I actually gave him the choice of getting them for his 14th instead, but he wanted them NOW. It was a cool day. Now it’s killing him to have to wait for the actual birthday celebration to get to handle them.

When I was a teenager, people used to tell us that we were the Saturday’s Warriors, saved for these latter days because we were strong and could handle it. That kind of talk always made me roll my eyes because I didn’t feel particularly valiant and the other youth in my ward certainly didn’t seem so either. But now that I’m raising kids, I’m banking on that philosophy, that these spirits can handle this world they’re born into. I have no problem believing, even hoping, that they are spiritually stronger than I am. Watching my big boy get so thrilled over new scriptures helped. I have some really good kids.

One of them, however, continues to give us a run for our money. If I figure things out with that one, I’ll let you know. I really believe that these guys come to me pre-packaged—that is, he is an individual spirit with free agency. There’s only so much I can do to mold him correctly. The big parenting fear is that, through my own ignorance or (worse) selfishness I will somehow miss a chance, make a wrong turn, cause him permanent damage by missing something important. But I guess there’s no getting around it: my kids will pay a price for my mistakes. That’s part of what they signed up for. I can just do my best and trust to the atonement, that it is as effective in their lives as it is in mine. Otherwise the whole plan doesn’t make sense, does it?

I hope you’re having a good January. The best thing about January is that there is only one in a year, you know?

p.s. I've been watching Seasons 1-3 of The Office, which I checked out from the library. I never watch TV, so I missed all of this when it was originally broadcast. I LOVE THIS SHOW!!!! So tell me, what else have I been missing? What other good shows have been on that I ought to check out? (BTW, Hubby doesn't care for it. Can't figure out what the big deal is.)

Tuesday, January 01, 2008

Happy Holidays!

My Christmas was sweet; I hope yours was too. Last year I was recovering from surgery and so couldn’t go anywhere on Christmas Eve, so we kept to ourselves. The whole evening R kept saying, “I really like this. This is nice.” So this year, we stayed to ourselves by choice, and it was really nice. We took the boys bowling in the afternoon of Christmas Eve, and a really big snowstorm rolled in as we bowled. We picked up pizza on the way home and then built a fire and “snuggled down,” as I like to say. We watched the Luke II video and, my favorite, Mr. Krueger’s Christmas. (Favorite line: “I believe I spoke to you about that at the time,” which Mr. K says to baby Jesus about his problem with a tenant.) Then we read the story, sang some songs, opened a present. It was all just sweet and, well, sweet.

The next morning we tore into the loot. Favorite quotes: 4-yr-old, with his hand in his stocking, “Oh! I’ve ALWAYS WANTED ONE OF THESE!!!!” And then he pulled out a regular-sized Hershey bar. And the following conversation, right after 4-year-old opened his big present from Santa:

6-yr-old: Hey, I saw that under the Grandpa [spare] bed last week!
9-yr-old: [pointing to me, in great excitement] That means that YOU ARE SANTA!!!
[I busy myself getting the toys out of their packaging]
9: I know, let’s go down and see if that toy you saw is still under the bed. If it’s not, we’ll know that Mom is Santa.
[6 and 9 go downstairs. I’m busy helping 4 open his stuff.]
[A few minutes later they troop back upstairs]
6: Maybe Santa just brought it early and kept it there because he knew it wouldn’t fit in the chimney.
[No more is said.]

So, how was your 2007? Mine was a year of suffering, I admit. And learning. And also great appreciation for small and simple pleasures, tender mercies, compensatory blessings. We had many. As I look towards 2008 and set some resolutions, I have one great desire of my heart which is, of course, that I will return to health this year. But even more than that I want to feel God working in my life, even if it is through continued struggles with my health. I feel that I could probably endure just about anything as long as I felt the Lord near. I also believe, though, that we are not necessarily guaranteed that we will always feel Him near, even when we are righteous. But it’s sweet to realize that it is my greatest yearning, even greater than my yearning for health. It’s nice to know that about myself after a year like this.

What about you? How have you grown, and where do you hope to be next year? My best wishes for a happy new year to you!