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Thursday, May 15, 2014
Monday, May 12, 2014
Sunday, May 11, 2014
Thursday, December 12, 2013
A New Sense of Purpose - A New Source of Inspiration
I have been bad at updating my blog for the past few months. Ok, it really has been more than a year or two since I've kept it up decently or at least monthly. Bad. BAD BAD. I have new inspiration, though, and hopefully I'll get much, much better at it very quickly.
My oldest son has left to serve a 2-year mission for the Lord! He'll be serving for the next 2 years (minus the 3 weeks he's served thus far) in the Campinas, Brazil area. What an honor for him and for our family to be involved with supporting him in this kind of work!
He recently spent Thanksgiving (as part of his 6-week study time) at the Missionary Training Center (MTC) in Provo, Utah. While he did experience some of the customary homesickness that day, the greater portion of his day was dedicated to receiving spiritual nourishment, providing physical nourishment for others, and providing inspired music for even more. Now that's not a bad way to spend a holiday!
HERE's an article that describes some of the physical nourishment he and many of the other missionaries-in-training were able to provide for others. (I'm almost positive I can see him in one of the later pictures included with this article. Or maybe that's a mother's wishful thinking.): http://www.deseretnews.com/article/865591538/MTC-missionaries-find-charity-service-in-lentils-and-rice-on-Thanksgiving-Day.html
HERE's another article that describes the source of some of that spiritual nourishment he received: https://www.lds.org/church/news/elder-nelson-delivers-spiritual-thanksgiving-feast-to-mtcs?lang=eng
That last article also refers to the inspired music in which he was able to participate. He was part of the MTC choir which provided the music for the meeting mentioned in the article. In his weekly email and in a subsequent letter he sent to our family he mentioned what an amazing experience it was to know that the music and the entire meeting were being broadcast to MTCs all over the world. He said he knows now that the reason his Brazilian travel visa did not come before it was time for him to start his mission was because the place where he is supposed to be is right there in the Provo MTC, singing with the choir. He wrote to us that he has received a special assurance that he is in the right place, at the right time, singing with what the director described to their group as "the best line-up he has ever seen" in that MTC choir.
I, too, have received a similar assurance. It is not easy to say good-bye to your young man (or young woman) and send him off, knowing that you won't see him at all and will rarely speak to him for the next 2 years. It can be downright painful to be separated from him this way at times, in all honesty. The reality is, however, that there is no other place in the entire world I would rather have him be right now and no other thing that could possibly be more important for him to be doing. For this reason, I have decided to take the advice of my sweet friend Peggy whose wise counsel inspired me not to count down years, months, weeks, and days until he returns home, but instead to count up the days, weeks, months, and years he has given in service to the Lord, to everyone who is affected by his mission in one way or another, and specifically to the people of Brazil.
Here's to 3 solid, energetic, dedicated weeks of service! Here's to my own 3 weeks of being a missionary mom!
My oldest son has left to serve a 2-year mission for the Lord! He'll be serving for the next 2 years (minus the 3 weeks he's served thus far) in the Campinas, Brazil area. What an honor for him and for our family to be involved with supporting him in this kind of work!
He recently spent Thanksgiving (as part of his 6-week study time) at the Missionary Training Center (MTC) in Provo, Utah. While he did experience some of the customary homesickness that day, the greater portion of his day was dedicated to receiving spiritual nourishment, providing physical nourishment for others, and providing inspired music for even more. Now that's not a bad way to spend a holiday!
HERE's an article that describes some of the physical nourishment he and many of the other missionaries-in-training were able to provide for others. (I'm almost positive I can see him in one of the later pictures included with this article. Or maybe that's a mother's wishful thinking.): http://www.deseretnews.com/article/865591538/MTC-missionaries-find-charity-service-in-lentils-and-rice-on-Thanksgiving-Day.html
HERE's another article that describes the source of some of that spiritual nourishment he received: https://www.lds.org/church/news/elder-nelson-delivers-spiritual-thanksgiving-feast-to-mtcs?lang=eng
That last article also refers to the inspired music in which he was able to participate. He was part of the MTC choir which provided the music for the meeting mentioned in the article. In his weekly email and in a subsequent letter he sent to our family he mentioned what an amazing experience it was to know that the music and the entire meeting were being broadcast to MTCs all over the world. He said he knows now that the reason his Brazilian travel visa did not come before it was time for him to start his mission was because the place where he is supposed to be is right there in the Provo MTC, singing with the choir. He wrote to us that he has received a special assurance that he is in the right place, at the right time, singing with what the director described to their group as "the best line-up he has ever seen" in that MTC choir.
I, too, have received a similar assurance. It is not easy to say good-bye to your young man (or young woman) and send him off, knowing that you won't see him at all and will rarely speak to him for the next 2 years. It can be downright painful to be separated from him this way at times, in all honesty. The reality is, however, that there is no other place in the entire world I would rather have him be right now and no other thing that could possibly be more important for him to be doing. For this reason, I have decided to take the advice of my sweet friend Peggy whose wise counsel inspired me not to count down years, months, weeks, and days until he returns home, but instead to count up the days, weeks, months, and years he has given in service to the Lord, to everyone who is affected by his mission in one way or another, and specifically to the people of Brazil.
Here's to 3 solid, energetic, dedicated weeks of service! Here's to my own 3 weeks of being a missionary mom!
Sunday, May 12, 2013
Trilogies are my Godot
I'd like to not find out about any more trilogies or series books until all the books in the series have been published. I practically devour books when I get into their stories and it's very difficult for me to wait for authors to complete and publish their follow-ups. So many series these days are written not so much as independent, complete books that build on or add to related stories but really more as one really long story that is broken up into several books. I am not very patient about waiting to have access to the next part of the story. Sometimes I think the authors aren't able to do their best work, as well, because they are feeling pressured to get those other books published in time to satisfy eager fans. Hmmm. What's the solution?
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
What's the Buzz?
http://youtu.be/iywUZHAepmo (Check this link on Youtube. I can't get it to post correctly in the story. It's part 6 of 7 sections from the movie Major League 3.)
When my oldest son was about 3, people kept telling us that he should be in commercials and we should get an agent. So we got him an agent. Why not? Not much happened for a couple of months, then we got a call one night that we could be paid extras in a movie if we could get to South Carolina by the next morning. (We lived in NC at the time.) Since I only had the two boys at the time, the youngest being 1&1/2, it was relatively easy to just go. My parents were in town just then and went along with us. All five of us were extras in the movie Major League 3 - Back to the Minors. Woo hoo!
The team for which we were supposed to be rooting was called the Buzz. Too bad our agent hadn't told us that. We were filming around Halloween time and I happened to have bee costumes sitting out at home that fit both of my boys. I've always wondered how much screen time the boys would've gotten if we'd shown up with two adorable little bee boys in full costume. Certainly at least as much as the bare-bellied Hog rooters and the three men in tutus, I would think.
We filmed at a ballpark for several days, shooting most footage inside the park and a bit out in the parking lot. I especially enjoyed the times when Ted McGinley was there. His character in the movie was not so likeable, but the actor was quite a handsome guy. Now we can watch the scene in the parking lot where he steps off the team bus and the bee mascot drives past on a motorcycle and we know we were right there, just outside of the frame that made it to the screen. (On a video clip I found on Youtube, that part is at 2:48.)
A few minutes later, at 7:04-7:08, I found a clear shot of the boys and me. When you see the Budweiser sign and hear people chanting, "Hog, Hog, Hog," make sure not to blink or you might miss us! While most people are surely focused on the grown men wearing hog noses, no shirts, and pig-ear headbands, I tend to look just a couple of spaces over to the right of the screen. There we are - me wearing a white shirt with my hair back in a french braid, nearly-bald Griffin in cute denim overalls on my lap, and sweet John-Michael wearing a royal blue ballcap and standing near my right knee. John-Michael spent a good part of that scene being blocked by an older lady on the row in front of us. Why didn't I think to have him stand up on the bleacher next to me? Honestly, it probably had something to do with the fact that we were all so cold. We were supposed to look like we were at a summertime ball game, but it was actually late fall and the air was quite chilly. Between shots, I attempted to keep the kids warm by holding them as close to me as I could. I imagine they would've been much warmer if they'd been wearing those bee costumes. Way to go, agent lady.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Companion
I watched General Conference with the kids this past weekend. The dad was in DC on a business trip, so I made the cinnamon rolls and prepared and monitored the Conference Bingo sheets with the younger kids on my own this time. Since the comfortable places to sit in the family room are fewer than the number of people needing to use them, I also decided to try letting the bigger boys watch on the big tv in the playroom, then report to me after each talk. (One of the boys paid better attention and got more out of the talks than I think he ever has before; one snuck to his room and read The Hunchback of Notre Dame. It's not a bad thing to be doing, but it's not what he was supposed to be doing, either, and he missed out on some really important lessons. He soon joined the rest of us downstairs.)
As conference came to a close and I discussed the things we had heard and learned with the kids, I started to reflect on the things I learned not just from what the speakers were saying, but also the things that were personal messages for me to learn straight from the Spirit. I wish I had a way to write them down immediately and exactly as they came to my soul. For now, I am just glad to be able to try to put some of them into words a day later. I hope I'll always be able to remember these feelings I've experienced.
For example, I remembered how very much I love Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. Each of the Apostles is unique and each of the speakers had something special to add that most certainly touched each listener in his or her own way, but I have a tender place in my heart for Elder Holland. I used to think it was because I've met him, because I have special memories of visiting with and admiring his sweet wife, or because I know and adore his clever & compassionate son, gorgeous & kind-hearted daughter-in-law, and beautiful grandkids. The more I consider, however, the more I realize my admiration for him is a much deeper thing. He's that apostle who speaks to my soul most directly, I think. When I was trying to recount to Michael (my out-of-town husband) what I'd heard and learned from Elder Holland, all I could really say was that his message was powerful. Powerful is a feeble, human word to describe what I felt, but that was the closest I could come to putting a word on it. I also tried to express to him the overwhelming love I felt as I listened.
I felt love for Elder Holland, for all the Apostles, and certainly for President Thomas S. Monson, but there was something else going on. I felt an even greater, stronger love coming the other direction. I felt a powerful love coming from behind that podium, out of that Conference Center in Utah, through the satellite signal, right out of my tv, and straight to me. To my kids, my whole family, the neighborhood, the town, state, country, and whole world, but specifically and definitely to me. I think in that moment I might not have been very surprised if we had seen Elder Holland actually burst into a bazillion pieces of light that could shower each and every living person. That feeling was a rare and beautiful thing which I was blessed to have filling my soul. I wondered if other people felt it, too. I hope I will remember it and perhaps even be able to draw from it in times when I'm faced with my personal struggles.
As I write this entry, I realize that I've felt something similar from Elder Holland on another occasion. When we lived in Gaithersburg, MD (in the early 2000's) he was the visiting authority for one of our Stake Conferences. I sang in the choir, so I listened to the talks he delivered in each of the two sessions we held to accomodate all of the wards in our area. I won't go into the specifics of what he said or how each meeting went, as there's no way I could sufficiently convey the messages he shared with us or the Spirit that was present in each session. For now, all I can say is that I was amazed at how different the tone was from one meeting to the next. His first was almost jovial, filling me with a light, bright, optimistic and hopeful spirit. The second was intensely deep and almost - for lack of a better word - pained. There was definitely love and still hope in that second session, but more of a comforting, consoling hope. I sat behind him and a bit to his right, so I looked out onto the same congregation as he saw. I soon realized that I wasn't SEEING the same thing he saw, however. He saw and felt something very personal in and from each of the individuals in the room, I believe. The Spirit spoke through him to each congregation in the way each needed to be addressed. My testimony grew in many ways that day, not the least of which was in my reaffirmed sustaining of this special man of the Lord.
Are you still with me? I haven't even gotten to the reason I started writing this entry - the point of today's title. I mentioned Conference Bingo way up there in the beginning of this post. This game is one tradition we've practiced during every General Conference for approximately 10 years. We make a 5x5 grid of blocks for each child, mark the center block with a heart and the word love, then let them use our bank of special words to fill in the 24 remaining blocks. When they were pre-readers, we gave them a stack of pictures that illustrated the words so they could fill in their grids in a way they could understand. We've used a variety of markers and rewards over the years, including but not limited to mini marshmallows, pennies (other coins being the rewards), balls of scrap paper, pebbles, plastic and glass beads, regular and mini-M&M's, and... you get the idea. I've decided that an important word has been missing from our word bank. Can you guess what it is?
As President Monson was closing the Conference, the word 'companion' kept coming to my mind. Like an exercise we'd done at the GO Center (a gifted & talented program I attended in my elementary school years) where we chose one word and wrote a story using as many thesaurus-researched synonymns for the term as we could, I thought of how many ways we use 'companion', especially in a Church context. Each missionary is never without his or her companion. I have been paired with several precious companions as I have fulfilled my role as a visiting teacher over the years. The Book of Mormon and The Bible are companions, both testifying and telling stories of our living Savior. I try to keep the Holy Ghost as my constant, comforting companion. I always hope that my kids will each have that companion, as well. Leaders at many levels have counselors who are their companions. President Monson clearly has an abiding and tender love for his wife, his eternal companion. Especially then, I missed having my own eternal companion at home with us. When October's General Conference comes around, I'm going to recommend that the kids place this important word on somewhere on their grids so we can all be sure to listen for it. Maybe I'll even give a bonus treat when someone gets a BINGO with that word in the line-up. I think it's even worth a Reese's egg!
As conference came to a close and I discussed the things we had heard and learned with the kids, I started to reflect on the things I learned not just from what the speakers were saying, but also the things that were personal messages for me to learn straight from the Spirit. I wish I had a way to write them down immediately and exactly as they came to my soul. For now, I am just glad to be able to try to put some of them into words a day later. I hope I'll always be able to remember these feelings I've experienced.
For example, I remembered how very much I love Elder Jeffrey R. Holland. Each of the Apostles is unique and each of the speakers had something special to add that most certainly touched each listener in his or her own way, but I have a tender place in my heart for Elder Holland. I used to think it was because I've met him, because I have special memories of visiting with and admiring his sweet wife, or because I know and adore his clever & compassionate son, gorgeous & kind-hearted daughter-in-law, and beautiful grandkids. The more I consider, however, the more I realize my admiration for him is a much deeper thing. He's that apostle who speaks to my soul most directly, I think. When I was trying to recount to Michael (my out-of-town husband) what I'd heard and learned from Elder Holland, all I could really say was that his message was powerful. Powerful is a feeble, human word to describe what I felt, but that was the closest I could come to putting a word on it. I also tried to express to him the overwhelming love I felt as I listened.
I felt love for Elder Holland, for all the Apostles, and certainly for President Thomas S. Monson, but there was something else going on. I felt an even greater, stronger love coming the other direction. I felt a powerful love coming from behind that podium, out of that Conference Center in Utah, through the satellite signal, right out of my tv, and straight to me. To my kids, my whole family, the neighborhood, the town, state, country, and whole world, but specifically and definitely to me. I think in that moment I might not have been very surprised if we had seen Elder Holland actually burst into a bazillion pieces of light that could shower each and every living person. That feeling was a rare and beautiful thing which I was blessed to have filling my soul. I wondered if other people felt it, too. I hope I will remember it and perhaps even be able to draw from it in times when I'm faced with my personal struggles.
As I write this entry, I realize that I've felt something similar from Elder Holland on another occasion. When we lived in Gaithersburg, MD (in the early 2000's) he was the visiting authority for one of our Stake Conferences. I sang in the choir, so I listened to the talks he delivered in each of the two sessions we held to accomodate all of the wards in our area. I won't go into the specifics of what he said or how each meeting went, as there's no way I could sufficiently convey the messages he shared with us or the Spirit that was present in each session. For now, all I can say is that I was amazed at how different the tone was from one meeting to the next. His first was almost jovial, filling me with a light, bright, optimistic and hopeful spirit. The second was intensely deep and almost - for lack of a better word - pained. There was definitely love and still hope in that second session, but more of a comforting, consoling hope. I sat behind him and a bit to his right, so I looked out onto the same congregation as he saw. I soon realized that I wasn't SEEING the same thing he saw, however. He saw and felt something very personal in and from each of the individuals in the room, I believe. The Spirit spoke through him to each congregation in the way each needed to be addressed. My testimony grew in many ways that day, not the least of which was in my reaffirmed sustaining of this special man of the Lord.
Are you still with me? I haven't even gotten to the reason I started writing this entry - the point of today's title. I mentioned Conference Bingo way up there in the beginning of this post. This game is one tradition we've practiced during every General Conference for approximately 10 years. We make a 5x5 grid of blocks for each child, mark the center block with a heart and the word love, then let them use our bank of special words to fill in the 24 remaining blocks. When they were pre-readers, we gave them a stack of pictures that illustrated the words so they could fill in their grids in a way they could understand. We've used a variety of markers and rewards over the years, including but not limited to mini marshmallows, pennies (other coins being the rewards), balls of scrap paper, pebbles, plastic and glass beads, regular and mini-M&M's, and... you get the idea. I've decided that an important word has been missing from our word bank. Can you guess what it is?
As President Monson was closing the Conference, the word 'companion' kept coming to my mind. Like an exercise we'd done at the GO Center (a gifted & talented program I attended in my elementary school years) where we chose one word and wrote a story using as many thesaurus-researched synonymns for the term as we could, I thought of how many ways we use 'companion', especially in a Church context. Each missionary is never without his or her companion. I have been paired with several precious companions as I have fulfilled my role as a visiting teacher over the years. The Book of Mormon and The Bible are companions, both testifying and telling stories of our living Savior. I try to keep the Holy Ghost as my constant, comforting companion. I always hope that my kids will each have that companion, as well. Leaders at many levels have counselors who are their companions. President Monson clearly has an abiding and tender love for his wife, his eternal companion. Especially then, I missed having my own eternal companion at home with us. When October's General Conference comes around, I'm going to recommend that the kids place this important word on somewhere on their grids so we can all be sure to listen for it. Maybe I'll even give a bonus treat when someone gets a BINGO with that word in the line-up. I think it's even worth a Reese's egg!
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