Our Fears Will Pass

Hopefully, everyone has now settled into the new school year. You've established your morning routines and, though they may not like it, children have adjusted to early bedtimes.

There's nothing quite like that first day, though. Kids in brightly colored outfits with shoes so new and clean it's hard to look directly at them. They're usually excited with just a slight side of nerves. Mostly harmless concerns plague them. Will I be the shortest one in class? Where is my bus room? How do I pay for ice cream? Ten minutes after school starts their jitters will be forgotten as they are immersed in learning the ropes of a new grade. 

Parents are a different story. Well, in my experience it has been mothers, but I won't stereotype. The first day of school many of us are a nervous wreck until those precious children stumble back off that big yellow bus in the afternoon.

It's not that I think it's going to be a horrible day. My kids go to a great school and have terrific teachers. There is just something about your children being completely out of your control that makes you feel a little helpless.

During the summer my kids stay with my sister-in-law. I knew where they were, what kind of environment and influence was around them, and I could call and check on them any time I wanted.

The school day is a giant blind spot. Just try to get a fifth grade boy to tell you what went on in his day. My girls are more forthcoming, but they have me cringing with tales of second grade drama.

I started thinking about all the difficulties yet to come; letting kids drive alone, sending them on mission trips, dropping them off at college. I'll stop there before I pass out.

If letting our children out of our sight can be difficult for us, what must it be like for heavenly father to send all of hs children to Earth?

How worrisome it must be to send children to Earth where they will be so tempted by horrible influences. He loves us so much, but we are born having forgotten him. We must re-learn the gospel and choose him.

Knowing how difficult it will be for His children, the Lord made a back-up plan, giving us a savior for our redemption. How agonizing it must be for the father to watch so many not choose freedom, but to fall.

Heavenly father has written down everything he wants us to know in the scriptures, and would love for us to call on Him any time, day or night. Like most children we never call home enough.

We often lament on how quickly our children grow up. One moment they're learning to tie their shoes, and the next they're learning to parallel park. What we forget is how swiftly the bad moments pass as well.

When our twin girls were born they needed to stay in the NICU for three weeks. The hospital was an hour from our home, and I visited every day. For the first week family members drove me as I recovered from surgery, after that I drove or waited for my husband in the evenings. At the time it felt like their stay lasted an eternity. Now looking back, that difficulty was just a brief moment that seems like a lifetime ago.

Several weeks have passed since that first day of school. All of those worries are now a distant memory. As my kids have become more confident in their classes, I too have become secure in their routines and safety.

At least as much as a mother ever does.

I will keep trying to get my kids to fill me in on the empty abyss I call the school day. In the meantime I think I'll check in with my heavenly father a little more often. As a parent I'm sure he'd like a little reassurance on how I'm doing through the day, and as a parent I could use the reassurance through the day.

Loving Life's Roller Coasters

I love roller coasters, I really do. My husband and I have been sneaking away for grown-up amusement park weekends for years now. Old school wooden coasters, sleek steal rails, hanging suspension style we’ve done it all. We love the free-falling thrill of dropping, spinning and spiraling in a well controlled manner.

I have still not learned to appreciate these same feelings in the rest of my life.

Life is not spent at an even keel. There are good moments that take us on highs, low moments can drop us suddenly and flat stretches will sometimes drag on longer then we like.

The exciting moments always seem much too brief, and the spiraling drops sometimes feel endless. 

None of it feels very controlled or safe.

What if there were no drops? No loops, cork-screws or hills. Just a nice smooth ride. Then life wouldn’t be a roller coaster would it? It would be a train ride.

There’s nothing wrong with a train. I think they’re relaxing and the ride can be very scenic. But if the track stays flat forever won’t we tire of the ride? We wouldn’t learn very much from a smooth un-interrupted ride.

Would the blandness of the mundane overshadow our fears of the unknown?

Writing a novel has been its own kind of ride. There was the lengthy process of writing the book and editing it. Much like standing in line on a very busy Saturday in July at Disney World.

Then comes sending your manuscript out to the very first readers to see if you have a story. That’s chugging slowly up the first big hill of the coaster with your heart in your throat. You know what it feels like, you look out over the entire amusement park and think ‘what have I done’ but it’s way too late by that point, you’re already strapped in.

Once you hit the first loop that’s the equivalent of getting your first positive feedback. Next comes querying for agents. Will the terrifying corkscrew of death ever end? Yes, to send you hurtling towards the ground at the speed of sound.

You get the idea, writing a book has a lot of ups and downs.

So, why do I love roller coasters?

Honestly, the first one of the day I don’t. I’m always terrified to get on that first roller coaster every trip. Going up that hill is painful, but I grit my teeth and say a little prayer. Somewhere around the halfway point of the first drop, which coincidentally is when my scream runs of out of air, the fear turns into a thrill.

That’s when I can let go of the bar, put my hands in the air and fly in total freedom.

I just don’t think a flat track would have the same effect.

Without risks, trials and pain, all the lows of life, the highs would not be as sweet. If we had no sorrow to compare our happiness to, how would we indeed know we were happy? Mondays would not be the same if there weren’t a few loop de loops.

No one really enjoys the ups and downs and downs of life. Somewhere in the beginning we were terrified and now we’ve become so jaded we ride life’s amusement park like an elevator instead of a thrill ride.

Stop waiting for the destination and enjoy the ride, because pretty soon it will be time to get off.

Grit your teeth, say a prayer and let go, knowing that with every low another high will pop up.

You can’t fly on a flat track.

Are you going to love the roller coaster?  

What We Leave Behind

February is a month of anniversaries. It marks the celebration of love, presidents and even the birth of my beautiful twin daughters. For me it also brings memories of the brother I lost on February 22, 2008.

Each year I sort through a few more boxes of his stowed belongings and come out with some new surprises. This year I came upon a memory he had tucked away in his wallet.

You can tell a lot about a person by what ‘s in their wallet or purse.  For instance I have large quantities of receipts in my purse for my expense reports. Call it disorganization if you want, I prefer to think of it as a relaxed filing system. Look at the details of the receipts and you can figure out the entire layout of my sales territory. Keep digging in the depths of my handbag and you’ll find clip on sparkle earrings, paint swatches and fuzzy pom-poms. It would not take a detective to figure out I have little girls that are divas, am redecorating my kitchen, and use “warm fuzzies” as a reward for good behavior.

What kind of story are you carrying around with you?

In going through my brother’s wallet I found lot’s of telling tokens. There was a club card for his favorite Mexican restaurant that was so worn out he’d laminated the frayed pieces together. His collection of home grown hot peppers was represented by a pepper postage stamp. In the window where most people keep their drivers license he had a copy of the serenity prayer. It was there behind that printed prayer that I found something incredibly meaningful.

A faded year-old Wal-Mart receipt for $108.95.

At first I couldn’t see the relevance of this slip of paper. The purchases were t-shirts, shorts and socks, hardly high value purchases. Why had he kept it? More so, why was it so worn out? There were check marks by each item and the receipt had been creased and re-creased.

It wasn’t until I checked the date and location that I remembered the shopping trip. I had been with my brother that day. It was his final trip to rehab and I had come to visit him for the day. We had gone to lunch together, walked the Old Town Mall in Winchester and gone shopping. It was the first time in years we had spent time together just the two of us, it would be one of the last.

Did he keep the receipt because that day meant so much to him? I can’t say for sure. I know that the sword he bought in a specialty shop that day is on the wall of my craft room. Doesn’t everyone have a sword in their craft room? I also know that for some reason he believed I was miraculous. He would tell anyone that listened what a fantastic mother I was. Nothing I accomplished surprised him, because he expected me to fly.

I can’t count the things my brother left behind. We have an authentic light saber, every video gaming system known to man and Matrix action figures. Beyond that, he left me the belief in adventure, an irresistible desire to rescue the downtrodden, and the determination not to disappoint his memory.

Besides what’s in my purse, what would I be leaving behind if I suddenly left this world? I never let my family leave without saying I love you, but I want to do more for them. I want my daughters to know how to be strong women. I want my son to know how to treat his wife and family one day. They all need to know how to stand up for their values and be who they are. That I believe they are stronger and more wonderful than they can ever imagine.

In this day and age we need to try and leave the world a little better off for our time in it. I don’t just mean recycling, though that is a good thing. Leave people better off for having known you. Make an impact on your family and on your world. Leave someone smiling one day when they sort through your wallet.

What are you going to leave behind?

Taking Control Through Choice

In light of recent events many of us have lost our Christmas spirit. Some feel like skipping the celebrations all together.

We need to embrace that spirit like never before.

When my oldest child boarded the school bus for the first day of kindergarten I smiled and waved like a perky pageant queen. As soon as that sunshine yellow child thief lumbered off I burst into tears.

It had nothing to do with my baby growing up, but everything to do with losing control.

For the first time I would not know what or how my child was doing all day. I was leaving him to his own devices and the care of strangers.

Even as a working mother I’d been able to call the babysitter, who was also family, at any time for updates. I could find out what they were doing, hear his voice or even stop by if I was so inclined. 

The beginning of public school changed all that.

Losing control meant gaining fear and anxiety as a parent.

As the world becomes increasingly chaotic and self-destructive we can feel overwhelmed by despair or even hopelessness. Every newscast seems more tragic then the last.

I can’t control what is happening in our nation and across the world. I can’t turn around the economy. I can’t stop senseless violence. I can’t put an end to hate.

I can control my little piece of this world.

This holiday season I can celebrate peace, charity and love. I can make my home a place of comfort and joy and teach my children how to spread goodness in their little part of the world.

If many of us choose to act in this way all of our little pieces could add up to something really wonderful.

Darkness and tragedy may be thrust upon us, but it is our choice in how we react.

What support will we give? What strength will we gain?

I adapted to having children in school as all parents do. The teachers and staff that were “strangers” are now treasured friends. In a school of 1200 students the phenomenal ladies in the office call me and my children by our first names.

How did I go from terror to trust? I chose to embrace the new environment. Really to jump in with both feet. Cupcakes for a party? Sign me up. Parent teacher conferences? Never missed one. Kindergarten Career Day? Who knew you could hold five-year-olds spell bound with a model of a clogged artery?

By being a positive presence I felt more in control of my children’s environment.

This Christmas I’m choosing to make my part of the world as bright as I can, for the sake of my family and my fellow man. Maybe no one else will notice, but I think just making that choice will give me a little more control over the fear and horror that has been reigning unchecked lately.

I will choose where I stand and I will not be moved.

What are you going to choose to do with your part of the world?

Painful Procrastination

Ouch. That's the best description for this week. After years of dabbling periodically in our fitness, my hubby and I had discovered we were way out of shape. Like, winded on the stairs out of shape.

So, it was time to get serious. Extreme, ninety days of seriousness. Once again, may I say ouch.

It takes at least an hour to an hour and a half every evening. Which is a lot of our "free" time. My wise husband had an excellent point though. We'd put off our health long enough, it was time for other things to be placed on hold.

That got me thinking, what else had I been putting off? It's so easy to get caught up in the daily work, cleaning, bill paying routine, are there crucial life events we're procrastinating?

My first thought was about my relationship with Heavenly Father and returning with honor.

When my son was very small we were at the County Fair, waiting for our ride on a roller coaster to start, when my precious toddler looked over at our church building just across the field.

"Mommy, Jesus is coming." He was very serious, his little brow furrowed.

I have to tell you, my heart quickened a little bit. "He is? When Baby?"

He continued to concentrate, but shrugged his tiny shoulders. "I don't know, soon."

I've made sure since then that the same conversation wouldn't be so worrisome. Even though I'm much more prepared, there's still a lot I should be striving for. Reading my scriptures daily, praying more often, the list goes on. How long will I procrastinate on these items?

Next my thoughts moved on to my family and all the things I want to do with them. Every summer we talk about taking the kids into nearby Washington D.C. to see the monuments or museums. So far we haven't gotten around to it. Or, the other historical sites in Virginia. There are lots of other things we've done as a family, but these are memories I want my kids to have. I need to stop putting it off and get it done.

Most importantly, I need to make sure I've told my family everything I want to tell them. Do my kids know why church and God are so important to me? Will my husband know how much he has inspired me and lifted me up, if I leave this earth tomorrow? Can any of them grasp how all encompassing my love for them is? Did I teach them to pray? To have faith?

I don't know about you, but I can't afford to procrastinate any longer. My fitness rehab may be painful, but after one week I'm seeing amazing results. I don't want to be in pain down the road because I procrastinated too long on other goals. Besides, what kind of fabulous blessings could be awaiting me?

What can you stop procrastinating, today?

The Wedding Story of Life

Tis' the season for showers, bird seed, and floating bubbles. That's right people, it's wedding season. I've recently been asked to be a bridesmaid, something I haven't done in ten years. Believe it or not I'm completely stoked, not because I have a love of teal taffeta, but because I adore the bride. It's an honor to be asked, plus I think this is going to be a really special event for our family. Now after all that warm fuzziness, I have to be honest, my next thought was that I better start hitting the gym. I'm going to be standing next to my cousin who is about as big as my little finger, and the bride who's the "after" of my Jenny Craig commercial.

Weddings offer so many opportunities for entertainment. My cousin drug her father up the aisle and then had a cow moo during the middle of the ceremony. Unfortunately, as guests we sometimes miss the best parts of the event. The story that unfolds later.

During the set-up of my sister-in-law's wedding, her fiance left with the keys to her car. That normally wouldn't be a big deal, except large portions of the decorations were in her trunk. Using good old fashioned American ingenuity, I shimmied through her half open window and folded down the back seat to access the trunk. Yes, this was prior to the birth of my three children.

At that same wedding the groom realized just minutes before the processional that he had forgotten the CD of the bridal march. The home owner scrambled through their limited music collection. Would the bride really walk down the aisle to Wayne Newton? Luckily, I have a freakish obsession with the cannons. I find them relaxing, okay? There was a full disc of wedding music in my car, and it was unlocked.

Some of the most ridiculous wedding moments I've heard of, come from my own wedding. What can I say, I was young and didn't plan well, but it made for a memorable day.

Bubbles were just coming into fashion for weddings, but were still a bit expensive. I was wearing way too much hairspray to let our guests surround us with sparklers. Still, I was not interested in spending hours packing birdseed into tiny little bags. My bright solution? Fill a birdbath with seeds and each guest could grab a handful to toss. Simple enough. I failed to take the groomsmen into account.

My husband's dearest friends lifted the top off the birdbath and dumped the entire thing on our heads. I had to take down my hair on the balcony of our hotel room that night, to shake out the six cups of birdseed trapped in the intricate up-do. It was in our pockets, ears, shoes, anyplace you can think of.

I won't go in to detail about what they did to the car. My car, that my trusting husband left unlocked with the keys in the ignition. It was epic, I'll say that much. Even after a trip to the car wash, it was a conversation starter at every rest area we stopped at on our honeymoon.

With first dances, cake cuttings and socializing with distant family members my husband and I never had time to eat anything at our reception. Never fear, our family took care of us and packed a cooler with all the best snacks and finger foods. When we got to the hotel we were starving and couldn't wait to dig in. Except in all the craziness of leaving the wedding we'd grabbed the wrong cooler. All we had were extra broccoli and carrot sticks that had not been on ice all evening. Not exactly a pleasant smell.

At five minutes till midnight my groom and I rolled into a local McDonald's and super sized ourselves a first matrimonial dinner. I was stilling wearing my hairpiece, and we hadn't cleaned out any of the aforementioned birdseed yet. To say we were stared at would be a mild understatement.

The crowning jewel of the night, however, came right after we left the reception. Tradition holds that when the bride and groom leaves, the rest of the wedding party piles into cars and follows them through town honking, cheering and raising a general commotion. Our wedding party was exceedingly good at this task. As we were ending our rounds through town we passed a gas station where two not-so-distinguished country gentlemen were rolling out of their pick up truck. One looked up and with out missing a beat yelled out "You fool!".

No matter what hysterics take place backstage during your wedding or catastrophes that go seen or unseen by the guests you will be just as married in the end. Best of all you'll have some great stories to tell one day, when you're writing a blog about weddings during the week of your thirteenth anniversary. Who wants a boring "everything was perfect" story to tell?

Life, like our weddings, isn't perfect. That's what makes it a good story. It doesn't matter if you're a millionaire or a pauper. If your house is spotless or a mess. In the end we all meet the same maker, it's just about the story we have to tell.

How interesting is your story going to be?

A Pirate Goes Camping

I seriously considered writing a post entitled "Unfortunate Swimsuit Decisions and Tragic Tattoos". After spending a week in warmer climates I was an unlucky witness to a multitude of both. I have three children, two of which came at the same time, and a love of all things chocolate. I know the importance of shopping for a flattering swimsuit. It is my firm belief that many people, both male and female, grab a suit off the rack, put it on and strut out to the pool or beach with out ever looking in a mirror. At least I hope they don't know how they look. I digress, crayon sketched tattoos of mangled mermaids and poorly worn Speedos are not my focus this week. These observations were made because of something that has become very precious to me and my husband, relaxing time away.

I know what you're thinking, that's great for you, but not everyone can flit off to the beach. Well most of the time neither can I, but it doesn't matter where you go it's the peace you get when you arrive. Several years into our marriage my husband and I were stressed to the max and money was tight, which probably added to the stress. Our solution to a relaxing getaway, camping.

It sounded like a good idea at the time. Just thirty dollars a night and a borrowed tent, what could be better? Famous last thoughts. With everything packed and ready to go my hubby came home late from work with an eye injury. You may not have noticed, but telephone lines are wrapped with a wire. While working on a telephone pole that guide wire had sprung loose and stabbed him in the eye. Go ahead, cringe. Had we been a little older and smarter I would have insisted on going to the emergency room, but we weren't so bright and we were desperate to get away. After twenty minutes on the road he was blinded by tears and in a good deal of pain, so we pulled over at a Wal-Mart and I went in to search for a solution. I knew his patience was waining so I raced through the pharmacy aisles scanning the shelves for anything that might help. My solution, eye drops, pain killers and an eye-patch padded with tissues. If a peg leg and a parrot would have helped I'd have bought them, I was beyond desperation.

The pirate routine bought us some time. We were able to get to the campground and set-up the tent, but then he was done. He collapsed on the empty floor of the tent in pain, while I unloaded the truck and established our campsite by the beam of the flashlight and prayed. Exhausted I stumbled through the woods to the showers and prayed some more. Settling the dog under the truck and zipping us into the tent I was finally done. Oh, and did I mention I prayed?

Saturday morning broke sunny and beautiful. I was woken by a very large rock in my back, which was a bad sign considering we had been sleeping on an air mattress. My hubby cracked his good eye open and then gingerly lifted his patch. There was a slight dot that looked bloodshot, but no swelling and no pain. The prayers of the faithful were answered.

With joy in our hearts we bounced out of our tent only to be slammed back by...what exactly was that smell? It was so overwhelming we couldn't immediately distinguish the acidic stench that was burning our eyes. Then it hit me. During the night we had yelled at the dog to be quiet and settle down. Surely he had not been sprayed by a skunk while tied to our truck, in our campsite, in the middle of a very crowded campground. We peeked out at the pooch. He kept his nose in the dirt and wouldn't make eye contact. Yep, that's exactly what had happened.

I don't know about you, I pack a lot of things when I camp, but not skunk remedies. Checking out the camp store the closest thing we could find was V-8 juice, and it wasn't cheap. We bought two bottles and rationed it out between the dog and the truck tire that had been in the line of fire. Low and behold it worked. I'm telling you, the Lord helps those who help themselves, and He was definitely helping us.
 
Our day went on to be fabulous. It was the first time we spent just completely relaxing together, no activities, just sitting under some trees reading magazines and taking naps. I might have put enough effort forth to paint my toenails and later we went fishing, but the point is we took time to quiet our minds and check ourselves out of reality for awhile. The peace and sanity we gained that day was life saving. It didn't matter that we were camping in the woods, we could have been on a beach or at a park. The experience is what counted. The fact that there were challenges in our path made it all the more worth while. Things that come to easily also come with less meaning.

Take time for yourself, your marriage, your sanity and don't let anything stand in your way no matter what ridiculous thing pops up. Even if it means taking a pirate camping. Maybe it's the very thing that could save you from a disastrous swimsuit decision or tacky tattoo.

So, when are you going to find a little peace?