When the World Was Slower

Hmm. The world used to spin a little slower it seems like. I remember taking long Sunday drives with Mom and Dad as a kid when the fall colors were coming on, and thinking that Christmas would never come. Oh, how I wish that life would just stall a little. Here are pics from a few moments we stopped to enjoy.

Happy Fall to all of you!

Walls

I cannot get these thoughts out of my head so I must spit them out and be done with it. (i.e.Verbal Vomit) Here we go.

How was it that Noah managed to get all of those animals in a boat the size of one and a half football fields in length without them all killing each other--seriously? I can just imagine the conversation between Mr. and Mrs. Noah:

"You said you were building a boat for us and the kids--we're taking two of what with us?"

And we complain when we get called to nursery or cub scouts-sheesh. I happened across at least part of the answer to that question in verse fourteen and sixteen of chapter 6 in Genesis:

"rooms shalt thou make in the ark. . .with lower, second, and third stories shalt thou make it"

That makes sense, put walls between the animals. They are animals--they won't last an hour, let alone 200 days in a wooden boat (sidenote--what about the woodpecker and the beaver huh? okay, never mind).

Sometimes, though I think that we are a little (okay, a lot) like the animals on Noah's boat. We are surrounded by literal and figurative walls. Some of them keep us safe, and some of them just keep us separate. Don't believe me? Just try booking the GOP and Democratic Conventions at the same pavilion this November, or invite some die-hard BYU and U of U fans to the same house the day their respective teams face off. Like the animals of old, we put one another in boxes, and socially, mentally, and spiritually place them on the lower, second, or third story tier of our imagination.

Let's start with an example of walls that separate. Once there was a group of nin-kumpoops that thought it would be a good idea to cut off East Berlin from West through means of an actual physical barrier--a wall.

"The Soviet-dominated Eastern bloc officially claimed that the wall was erected to protect its population from fascist elements conspiring to prevent the "will of the people" . . . However, in practice, the Wall served to prevent the massive emigration and defection (yeah, cuz they didn't want to be there) that marked Germany and the communist Eastern Bloc during the post-World War II period."
(taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berlin_Wall)

This wall that was there for the people's good, to quote "keep them safe" did the opposite. Hundreds trying to escape the dictatorial dominance of the East lost their lives scaling that wall. It was an impediment, a mammoth stumbling-block to the unification and progression of a nation still battered and bruised from the overthrow and usurpation of their government under Hitler's regime. Thankfully, an American expressed the collective voice of the German people with his immortal words when he said,

"we believe that freedom and security go together, that the advance of human liberty can only strengthen the cause of world peace. . .if you seek peace, if you seek prosperity. . . if you seek liberalization, come here to this gate. Mr. Gorbachev, open this gate. Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall!" (emphasis added. taken from http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Berlin_Wall#.22Mr._Gorbachev.2C_tear_down_this_wall.21.22)

That wall came down. And thanks to God because if a wall is there long enough it stops appearing to be a barrier and just becomes blindness. Ask the people in Korea if you question that.

We all have walls that need to be torn down. They can be anything. The inability to forgive someone that has hurt us, disgust with our self for our insecurities and perceived failings, pride, greed, envy, unfettered ambition, vanity, jealousy on and on. And it doesn't matter if it is one brick or one thousand, if it's a day or a century old-it is a stumbling block and it separates us from one another and more importantly from God.

And in thinking about this, I realized that the Savior has no walls. Zero. Aside from fishes and loaves of bread he doesn't divide things--he unites them. He tears down walls of separation, and supplants them with walls of safety. Truly as he said, "I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me." (Isaiah 49:16)

There is a story in the Old Testament about the children of Israel rebuilding and fortifying the walls of Jerusalem under the direction of a man named Nehemiah. Nehemiah was a good man--he battled opposition from enemies without:

"What do these feeble Jews? will they fortify themselves? will they sacrifice? will they make an end in a day? will they revive the stones out of the heaps of the rubbish which are burned?"
(Nehemiah 4:2)

and discouragement from parties within: "we are not able to build the wall" (Nehemiah 4:10)

So what does he do?

"from that time forth. . .half of my servants wrought in the work, and the other half of them held both the spears, the shields, and the bows. . .

They which builded on the wall, and they that bare burdens, with those that laded, every one with one of his hands wrought in the work, and with the other hand held a weapon." (Nehemiah 4:16-17)

They kept one hand building the walls of their home, and one defending it. Like Nehemiah of old we can affirm:

"The work is great and large, and we are separated upon the wall, one far from another. In what place therefore ye hear the sound of the trumpet, resort ye thither unto us: our God shall fight for us.

So we laboured in the work: and half of them held the spears from the rising of the morning till the stars appeared"(Nehemiah 4:19-21)

We have got to do the same. Our walls are before the Savior--he is well acquainted with our grief and he will not leave us comfortless. To paraphrase what Sister Wixom said in conference 'you hold fast to that iron rod, and your little ones will hold tight to you.' We must labor in the work before us until that morning when the light of heaven will shine forth and break down the walls of frustration and enslavement that torture mankind.

I hope the walls of your home are a safe refuge for you.

Oh, How Far I've Come

A conversation between my boys:

Colt: Daddee--what you doin'?

Blaine: I'm hanging a picture. What are you doing?

Colt: Picking my nose.
_________________

Awesome.

Wait--why do I read her blog? Yeah, I'd ask myself the same question if I were you.

Stay tuned if you dare. . .

Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down

I've avoided this post like the plague--because it feels wrong. Because even though the world never stopped, my world stalled that Monday afternoon I lost my son, and I can't seem to push play again. I stumbled out of my house on May 10th one woman, and re-entered June 9th an entirely different individual. In the time line of my existence I died with Shiloh and like a phoenix arose from the ashes of that dark hour quite a new creature. Comparatively, no better than anyone else-except myself. I loathe the moments when I see glimpses of that former self emerge and superstitiously skirt about old patterns and habits that might unearth her further.

It makes me laugh how I used to lie on bed rest wishing my life would go back to normal. Normal--what is that? If it is the life I was living before Shiloh I want none of it. I was shallow and rather dull. The Summer of Shiloh was figuratively one hard, swift kick to my behind and I am grateful for it. A little disappointed in myself for needing it, but I've learned my lesson. . .I hope.

So forgive me. Forgive me for lacking the ambition to chronicle the last month of our lives, full of boogers(hand delivered to me every time my child picks one--gross), bike rides, and business trips. (pics to follow) Let me finish with this and then we'll get on to the delightfully ordinary events of the past month--they were right. All of those people who told me a day wouldn't pass without thinking about Shiloh they were right. I do. Every single day for the rest of my life. And that is not a burden--it is a blessing. We hurt because we love--and life really isn't worth living without love.

At the playground in Des Moines where we met up with friends from our old ward--we miss you!

Colt loves his 'miss-o-nare-ees'

Working on something while Dad works on the bike

Day 40: End of the Road

This is my last Attitude of Gratitude entry. (I promise)

Thank you for reading my thoughts, for offering me some of your own, and for the outpouring of love and support you have been for our little family throughout this journey. We love you, and thank you for your Christlike love and example.

I have so much to be grateful for. There is a lot I could write tonight, but I think I would be remiss if I didn't close this chapter of my life and this experience by expressing the feelings I have in my heart for my Savior.

The Atonement is so big. My mind doesn't wrap around it like I want it to--how does one live a perfect life? How does one always view others correctly, always do the right thing? How does one never give in to temptation, never have impure or unkind thoughts? And ultimately, how does one willingly endure brutality and buffetings at the hands of enemies, and lay down one's life for a friend? I feel like my older brother must have been cut from a very different bolt of material than I was. I don't know how he did it. But that doesn't change the fact that I know he did do it.

I know with everything I am that Jesus Christ lived the life we cannot, that he suffered deeper, longer, and harder than anything any of us have or can for that matter, and that he willingly sacrificed himself out of love for each one of us. I know that when you touch real pain--pain that breaks you down and exposes your raw edges, that is when you can come to more fully appreciate and understand the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I am grateful for the pain I felt this summer of two-thousand and ten. I am grateful now that he didn't immediately take the sting of that pain away, and that the he has left scars of sacrifice and loss to help me remember the lonely road he walked alone.

"...because Jesus walked such a long, lonely path utterly alone, we do not have to do so. His solitary journey brought great company for our little version of that path—the merciful care of our Father in Heaven, the unfailing companionship of this Beloved Son, the consummate gift of the Holy Ghost, angels in heaven, family members on both sides of the veil, prophets and apostles, teachers, leaders, friends. All of these and more have been given as companions for our mortal journey because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ and the Restoration of His gospel. Trumpeted from the summit of Calvary is the truth that we will never be left alone nor unaided, even if sometimes we may feel that we are. Truly the Redeemer of us all said: “I will not leave you comfortless: [My Father and] I will come to you [and abide with you]."
[Jeffrey R. Holland, “None Were with Him,” Ensign, May 2009, 86–8]


This is the end of this particular road for me. I am grateful that I didn't walk it alone.

Love,
Hillary

Day 39: Life Can Be A 'Paine'

I like this quote. I originally thought about it in the context of war. Then last night an astute young man said something that helped me consider this in a new light. He was talking about Nephi obeying the Lord's command to obtain the plates of brass from Laban observing, "This is a hard thing the Lord required, but He provided a way through."

And the thought came that all of us are required to go through 'hard things' that push us to the edge of our capacity and sometimes far beyond. They can be external pressure and stress or internal doubt and despair. Whatever they are, they seem to be tailor made for our growth and betterment. As I've watched friends and family members face difficulties over the years; things that grind them down and beat them up, I've seen their commitment to the gospel and their faith in the Lord pull them through. And because they faced the demons of their day, their children will experience greater peace in their lives. I think the collective strength of our friends and family really helped us pull through losing Shiloh. I am so grateful for parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, cousins, grandmas, grandpas, extended relatives, and friends who have faced the trouble in their day. I'm so glad that they hung on even when they didn't have anything left. Their examples helped us keep going.

I know that we can continue to do the hard things the Lord requires and that as we do those hard things, life will be easier.

Day 38: Silver and Gold

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Thanks for friends, new and old.
One is silver, the other gold.

I just don't believe in coincidence anymore.

Day 37: You're With Me, I'm Not With You

I was fortunate enough in grade school to stand with my peers every morning, hand on our heart and recite, "We pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America, and to the republic for which it stands. One nation under GOD, with liberty and justice for all."

Today, hundreds of thousands of Americans stood together and pledged their allegiance to having increased faith in God, hope in the future of this nation, and charity toward their fellow beings. Maybe you and I don't agree on everything, but I think the majority of us would concede that our country could do with an injection of faith, hope and charity. We're suffering from an identity crisis. Our good intentions to accommodate others has us substituting tolerance with acquiescence of our founding principles and replacing justice for all with fairness for everyone. This is America, for Pete's sake. We made the Energizer bunny and Nike, but we won't keep going if we don't just do it and get with the program--God's program that is.

You're with me. I'm not with you.

Blaine says that to Colt when we're out on the town and the kiddo pitches a fit about doing things his way. Remembering his place, Colt usually responds with a, "Souw-ee Daddee". We need to remember our place. We are with God--He isn't with us. It's His will, not our will. It's a help up, not a hand out. Personal responsibility, not collective salvation. Sabbath day worship, not Saturday Night Fever. Standing for what's right, not falling for what's easy. Lifting instead of lowering. Giving instead of getting. Praying like it depends on God, and working like it depends on us.

My son was not born today, but something else was. Or maybe the right word is reborn. For that I am very, very grateful.

O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

O beautiful for pilgrim feet
Whose stern impassioned stress
A thoroughfare of freedom beat
Across the wilderness!
America! America!
God mend thine every flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law!

O beautiful for heroes proved
In liberating strife.
Who more than self their country loved
And mercy more than life!
America! America!
May God thy gold refine
Till all success be nobleness
And every gain divine!

O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears!
America! America!
God shed his grace on thee
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!
[America the Beautiful, words by Katherine Lee Bates, melody by Samuel Ward]

Welcome home America--you're looking beautiful.

Day 36: Sweet Dreams

Tomorrow I would have met you sweetheart.
And you would have cried. Loud, beautiful cries. Daddy and I would have cried too.
Your older brother would have come to visit and maybe sing Twinkle Twinkle Little Star to you like we have been practicing.
Grandma would be on a plane to come see you, and put red kisses on your cheeks.
Grandpa would have called, and told Daddy well done on another boy.

It's okay sweetheart--I know you wanted to stay. I'm just so grateful for the time we had together. You hung on for seven weeks more than anyone could have asked for, or expected. You did great. Thank you for kicking so much, and for looking just like your Daddy. Thank you for that strong, steady heart beat--I loved listening to it everyday.

Yes, tonight would have been a sleepless one for both of us in the world we wished we lived in. But since we don't, and since I will be sleeping tonight--let's meet in a dream. Let's go to the beach and play in the sand. Don't worry about sunscreen--remember, you don't sunburn in dreams. But do hold my hand, and let me kiss you. We'll have a picnic together, and if it's windy we could fly a kite. I'll even invite Daddy and Colty to come too. Sound good?
Good. Then it's a date. Sweet dreams baby doll.

Love,
Mom

Day 35: Lose It All

I don't want to brush my teeth.

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I have nothing to wear.

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Are we there yet?
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What's for dinner?. . .I don't like that.

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I don't want to take a bath.
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No NAP!

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Do I have to go to school?

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There's nothing to do.

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I had no idea what I was saying when I repeated these phrases as a kid. I have never gone without. I hope I don't have to lose it all to fully appreciate all I have .
I am so thankful I was born in this country, at this time, into the family I am a part of.

Day 34: Right Where They Are Supposed To Be

I don't exactly know why it hit me so hard, but I am so grateful these three little ones are right where they are supposed to be today. . .at home with Mom. Today is just full of miracles.

Thanks Ashley for embodying what true motherhood is all about.

Congrats Megan on yet another adorable arrival (cutest girls EVER!)

And to you Charlotte--welcome home little girl.

Day 33: I Love Lucy

Sorry Lisa--not the same Lucy. LOL.

Every couple of weeks I get a call from my nurse Lucy. She asks how I'm doing, how Blaine is doing and lets me know she is thinking about me. What an example.

Years ago Lucy opted to attend the bereavement classes being held to train nurses on dealing with patients like us who lose a child. Thank heaven she did. Lucy gave the TLC program that existed at St. Joseph's a complete makeover. I am probably one of hundreds that Lucy calls/writes/emails/etc.

I told Lucy the last time we chatted that she is the Brett Favre of nurses. She is 'supposed' to be retired but she cannot stay away. Maybe this is the last year for both of them. . .I won't hold my breath.

I am convinced our experience losing Shiloh would have been totally different if we didn't have Lucy. We are both so grateful that she took the time to go down this difficult road with us, and that she continues to extend her love and care. We could all do with some more Lucys out there.

I just love Lucy.

Day 32: Oh Dear.

This picture accurately portrays my sentiments about our government today.

We just concluded reading the Constitution of the United States of America.

It is not outdated. It is timeless. I am grateful for it. It came at a very dear price.
Our Founders had it right--somewhere between there and here we drifted from the balanced center they placed us on in the spectrum of Anarchy and Tyranny. It's rather discouraging. Where did we go wrong? How do we get back?
I think it might have something to do with this.

I am grateful for my family tonight. There really isn't a more important work we do than that which is done within the walls of our own home.

Day 31: A Dying Art

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The lesson I taught today asked me to write the phrase You are One of God's Greatest Creations on the chalk board, which I did in my best cursive. Imagine the shock I felt when one of the young women exclaimed, "Wow, cursive! You can write like that?"

Apparently she was never taught how to write cursive in school--she had been spared the rigors of learning this 'dying art' along with over 60% of her peers who are unable to read or write the same.

Huh?

Now maybe this is a rare thing--maybe things haven't gone totally bonkers everywhere and the majority of our children are learning to read and write as well as be exposed to the basics in arithmetic, economics, geography and more. I sure hope so. . .

Nonetheless, this experience had me considering what other exemptions are being made in today's curriculum, and assessing what gaps may unknowingly exist in my own. Were there things I wasn't taught, wasn't exposed to that I should have been? Did I miss something? Many things? What were they? How will I know what they are?

One area stood out to me above others after reading the following:
A primary object should be the education of our youth, in the science of government. In a republic, what species of knowledge can be equally important? And what duty more pressing. . .than. . .communicating it to those who are to be the future guardians of the liberties of the country? (emphasis added)
-George Washington

When was the last time you read the Constitution? Have you ever? Do you know what system of government we have? Why we have it?

"Today we have become a nation based on a society of rule by man. The Constitution, once held in high esteem, is now often ignored, changed to meet the opinion of a judge, or considered outdated; whereas our Founders revered it and considered it a document written for the ages. In spite of the blessing accrued to the average American, many hate this nation's form of government and are dedicated to destroying it, while others are indifferent, apathetic, and could care less about its rapidly deteriorating condition. They seem to be materialistic and hedonistic with the attitude of letting George do it. (Ronald M. Mann as quoted in The 5,000 Year Leap by W. Cleon Skousen, pg. xix, 2009, NCCS)

It has been a long time since I "refreshed myself at the well-spring of my origin, lest I perish" as the adage goes. Long enough that the fire of freedom that burned in my bosom as a child sitting around the dinner table listening to my parents talk politics and patriotism has dwindled to cooling embers. I don't mean to say that I'm not patriotic. I am. I love this country. But patriotism is not enough. The legacy of liberty our forefathers gave us requires more than a hand on the heart and the hat off our head. It requires proactive citizenship. When did it become okay for us to take another man's word for it? Is the American way a dying art as well?

If you are still reading I am amazed. If you are, I would tell you today that I am grateful for the Constitution, but to be honest I don't think I know what it is I have so how can I truly appreciate it? I will tell you that I am grateful for the opportunity to learn about what it is I have. I plan on doing so alongside the members of my family tomorrow night as we come together for family home evening to read the Constitution. (You can find it here) I invite you to join with us--to question boldly what it is you believe in, and come to a determination if this document our Forefathers gave their lives for is a creed worthy of living yours by. I think it is--but I would rather know.

"The choice before us is plain, Christ or chaos, conviction or compromise, discipline or disintegration. I am rather tired of hearing about our rights and privileges as American citizens. The time is come, it now is, when we ought to hear about the duties and responsibilities of our citizenship. America's future depends upon her accepting and demonstrating God's government." (Peter Marshall, The Rebirth of America, pg. 205, 1986, Arthur S. DeMoss Foundation)

Please join us. United we will stand--divided, we will surely fall.

Day 30: Not Strangers

Whew! I just about messed up and skipped a day. And I have so much to be grateful for today!
I went to the temple with my sweetheart and I met the neatest lady. A lady who many years ago went through the same thing as me. I don't know this woman, and she doesn't know me--but when we embraced and said our goodbyes we were not strangers. Another tender mercy.

So here is to Shiloh, and Carolina, and all of the others out there waiting--we're doing our best down here. We'll be together again someday. . .

Day 29: Trash to Treasure

I LOVE thrift sales!

They are my new favorite thing--two days of total madness have ensued since I discovered the thrill of making treasures out of other people's trash. What planet have I been on? Why am I just now figuring this out?

Sorry for the crazy rant--so I found this quilt display thinga-ma-bob for $2. Woohoo! It makes me happy. This is the quilt my wonderful nurse Kris hand-pieced and now every time I see it I think of my baby boy.

I am so grateful for momentos to remember Shiloh by. Pictures, blankets, sweet little things that confirm every time I see them that he is real--that he is remembered and loved. I had one of my nurses tell me how lucky I was--her mother had lost four babies (one set of twins and two other pregnancies) and she never even got to see the babies. Nothing. The doctors didn't even tell her if they were girls or boys. I know. I am really blessed. It could have been so much worse.

There are always treasures to be found amidst the trash that life brings us--you just have to keep your eyes peeled.

Day 28: Learn To Be More Wise

I am grateful for good books. I love to read. Always have. Thanks due largely to my Mom who took the time to read to me. Thank you, thank you Mama!

I'm hoping to pass this addiction onto my son with our weekly trips to the library and nightly reading sessions cuddled up together in the rocking chair. It makes my heart jump for joy when he grabs a book out of our library bag, runs to me with it and says, "Mama, read".

To me, there is not a better book out there than the Book of Mormon. I love it. I find it ironic that the Lord preserved a record of a people that inhabited this land, rose to greatness, witnessed the coming of the Messiah and yet fell out of existence within four hundred years.

With Mormon we ask, "O ye fair sons and daughters, ye fathers and mothers, ye husbands and wives, ye fair ones, how is it that ye could have fallen!" (Mormon 6:19)

Easy.

"O ye fair ones, how could ye have departed from the ways of the Lord! O ye fair ones, how could ye have rejected that Jesus, who stood with open arms to receive you! Behold, if ye had not done this, ye would not have fallen." (Mormon 6:17-18)

Are we that much better? We're only 234 years into our history as an organized country and to drown it in syrupy sweetness we aren't looking too good. Mormon saw us--he saw our day. I won't even try to sugar-coat his description. Read Mormon 8:35-41 if you have the guts, and brace yourself.

Mormon tells us in the next chapter why we have this record--why the Book of Mormon has been handed down from generation to generation and brought forth miraculously in this day by the workings of God upon a humble farm boy in upstate New York.

"he [meaning God] hath made manifest unto you our imperfections, that ye may learn to be more wise than we have been." (Mormon 9:31)

I, as he states a line before 'give thanks unto God' for it. It is totally erroneous that you have to make a mistake to learn the lesson. We do not have to be a two-part saga of destruction alongside the Nephites in the history of this land. But we will be. Oh yes, we will if we aren't "wise in the days of [our] probation" (Mormon 9:28) We will become another chapter in the tragic tale of those who fail to keep the Lord's commandments if we don't "come unto the Lord with all [our] hearts, and work out [our] own salvation with fear and trembling before him". (Mormon 9:27)

Sorry, this sounds so dooms-dayish but I know it is true. No empty chairs at the table please.
No empty chairs. . .

Day 27: Tattered Wings

I try to be the responsible parent and reprimand my child--and then he makes this face.
A for effort. F for follow through.
I flunk.
Does anyone else suffer from 'wussyparentalsitus' like me?

That, by the way is not my thought-out, blog-worthy moment. . .
as lovely as it is.

My friend wrote a FANTASTIC post about how 'we do not notice the things that we do not know.' I've thought a lot about that over the last two months as I've pondered what life for Shiloh might have been like had he arrived that night in June alive. 28 weeks and some change.
Would I have heard a cry? How long would we have been in the NICU? Would he have lung issues, diminished vision, impaired speech, developmental delays, brain damage, kidney problems, on and on? Or would he have been perfectly normal?
We just do not know.

What I do know is that now when I am at church and I walk by an individual in a wheelchair or when I'm at the grocery store and I notice the bagger boy struggling to ask 'paper or plastic', or when I'm out to dinner and I see an older couple spoon feeding their adult child I notice.
That could have been us.

That could have been us driving back and forth between home and the NICU for months praying for that day we'd bring our baby home. That could have been us facing mountains of medical bills, thanking our lucky stars that there are government funded programs to help out. That could have been me trying to choose between this program and that to supplement my child's education. That could have been us leaping for joy when our child finally learned how to walk, or talk, or run years after their peers. That could have been us. . .

And in a way--I am so grateful that I do not know whether Shiloh would have been perfectly healthy or severely impaired. Because there is this place in my heart that wasn't there before--this love that I feel for those who came to this earth with tattered wings. Carol Lynn Pearson wrote it best:

If you don’t walk as most people do,
Some people walk away from you,
But I won’t! I won’t!
If you don’t talk as most people do,
Some people talk and laugh at you,
But I won’t! I won’t!
I’ll walk with you. I’ll talk with you.
That’s how I’ll show my love for you.
Jesus walked away from none.
He gave his love to ev’ryone.
So I will! I will!
Jesus blessed all he could see,
Then turned and said, “Come, follow me.”
And I will! I will!
I will! I will!
I’ll walk with you. I’ll talk with you.
That’s how I’ll show my love for you.

Day 26: Blankets & Blessings

Unlike most who lose a loved one, I don't grieve because of the memories made--I grieve because I have no memories. As empty as my arms, my mind can't conjure up a cry or a laugh, a solitary movement or expression--hardness and cold replacing softness and warmth.

I posted about the culmination of these feelings a while ago when I wrote about witnessing a baby blessing on Father's Day this year--two weeks after Shiloh's death. I realized sitting there in that pew that I would not be dressing my baby in a beautiful white outfit. I wouldn't get to swaddle him in a special blanket and gently pass him to my husband who would carry our child to the center of a circle of priesthood holders so he could pronounce a blessing upon him. I wouldn't get to stand up afterward and bear my testimony about how wonderful the experience had been and have a dinner party to celebrate our family's newest addition. I would not get this. I thought. . .
________________________________

The day we buried Shiloh I sat there at the cemetery sobbing. To the onlooker, I was overtaken with grief. And I was--to the last degree, but my soul was also flooded with the sweetest warmth at the realization that my prayer had been answered.

A couple of months ago a sweet woman was busy putting the final touches on a few afghan blankets she'd made for new arrivals. Strangely, somehow, she had ended up with an extra. She found herself with the prompting to give this extra blanket to a certain member in her ward rather odd; nonetheless, she followed through and received confirmation of that inspired prompting from the tears that fell as my mother-in-law accepted this woman's gift and related to her how her second grandchild had just been born still.

Just enough fabric from two ancestors sacred initiatory shields found itself in the hands of an aunt who felt inspired to sew a small outfit for a great nephew who had just passed away. Without a pattern, and no measurements taken, she deftly pieced together a gown of white that weeks later would be lovingly dressed on the child, fitting perfectly to his tiny, fragile frame.

So there I was, watching my husband carry my little boy whom I had dressed in a beautiful white outfit and swaddled in a special blanket, to the center of a circle surrounded by priesthood holders gathered to take part as Blaine pronounced a blessing upon this child and the place where he would rest. I got to stand and bear my testimony about how wonderful this experience had been, and join with family for a dinner afterward to celebrate the newest member of our family.

God doesn't always answer our prayers the way we want.
But he always answers them the way we need.

I am grateful for that.

Thanks for allowing me to taste the bitter--so I can more fully appreciate the sweet.

Day 25: Gentle Strength

1770 found this country and many of its citizens precariously drawn between loyalty to the Crown and the God-given liberties burning within their breasts. Thomas Paine wrote, "These are the times that try men's souls." Tried they were, from a monarchy issuing countless abuses and regulations an ocean away. I realized today that that year saw the following ladies of liberty at rather tender ages:

Abigail Smith Adams, wife of John Adams--25 years old
Martha Washington, wife of George Washington--39 years old
Martha Jefferson, wife of Thomas Jefferson--21 years old
Elizabeth Wells Adams, second wife of Samuel Adams--35 years old

These were not women of the world--they were nurturing, supportive wives and mothers who held down their homesteads allowing their husbands as John Adams said to, "study politics and war that my sons may have liberty to study mathematics and philosophy."

These women farmed the land, fled mobbers, bore children, buried children, sewed clothes for the naked, housed the sick, taught their children, educated themselves on the day's issues, fought off disease with broomsticks and brushes, on and on and on. . . basically they, "fixed it up, wore it out, made it do, or did without" to the last possible measure.

They were strong. And they were gentle. They rocked the adversary's kingdom while rocking their babes cradles. They silenced the foe and paved the way for the establishment of this most blessed nation with lullabies and prayers. God bless them forever for it.

I am so grateful that I have their example to look to as we face these times that try our souls. Satan knows if he gets the girl he wins because, "The hand that rocks the cradle rules the world" (William Ross Wallace).

"The world has enough women who are tough; we need women who are tender. There are enough women who are coarse; we need women who are kind. There are enough women who are rude; we need women who are refined. We have enough women of fame and fortune; we need more women of faith. We have enough greed; we need more goodness. We have enough vanity; we need more virtue. We have enough popularity; we need more purity."
-Margaret D. Naudald

We are going to win the war with lullabies and prayers.

Day 24: Cowardly Courage

We are obviously grateful for ice cream at our house. . .

maybe slightly more important, I am grateful for the opportunity to repent and change my wicked ways. To try and be better today than I was yesterday even if only in small measure. I am so grateful that our Savior always gives us the benefit of the doubt--especially when we feel we don't deserve it. It is depressing to think that I'll never get it 100% right in this life, but that the Savior will forgive me 100% of the time if I sincerely ask for a do-over and try again.

"Courage doesn't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow."
-Mary Anne Radmacher

I'm grateful for courage today--even when I feel like the cowardly lion.

Day 23: Ordinary Day

Hurray for summer days.

I don't have anything profound to offer today (not that I ever really do).

I am just grateful to spend an ordinary day with my husband and boy. I'm grateful I got to read extra long this morning, go on a bike ride with Blaine and Colt, iron clothes, work on projects, get stuff done. (And I am grateful this head cold of mine is almost over)

Have a wonderful weekend and enjoy the rest of this summer.

(Am I the only one who thinks time has sped up and it is flying by?)

Day 22: Land of the Free

"For there is a time appointed for every man, according as his works shall be." (D&C 121:25)

Across the time line of existence, we stepped on the scene during the winding up period preceding that event which every prophet since the foundation of this world has spoken of. And as Dickens so aptly penned it,

"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us. . ." (A Tale of Two Cities, Dickens, pg. 1)

Unless you've had your head stuck in the sand you are well aware that this world we live in isn't getting any better. At times it can seem pretty bleak.

As I said in a talk I gave recently, 'Satan knows that his time of power is quickly drawing to a close, and he isn't taking weekends or holidays off. This is a 24 hour a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year business of destroying souls, and he's been working overtime since day one. This war he wages is not fought on the shores of Normandy or the deserts of the Middle East but in the fleshy tabernacle of our hearts.This is the time, if ever there were one to be valiant in the testimony of Christ.'

"For behold, at that day shall he rage in the hearts of the children of men, and stir them up to anger against that which is good. And others will he pacify, and lull them away into carnal security, that they will say: All is well in Zion; yea, Zion prospereth, all is well--and thus the devil cheateth their souls, and leadeth them away carefully down to hell. And behold, others he flattereth away, and telleth them there is no hell; and he saith unto them: I am no devil, for there is none--and thus he whispereth in their ears, until he grasps them with his awful chains, from whence there is no deliverance. (2nd Nephi 28:20)

But he is not going to win. We know that. The only thing yet to be determined is which side of the line we will stand on. And I think you already know the answer to that. I do. We have to "be strong and courageous, be not afraid nor dismayed. . .for there be more with us than with him: with him is an arm of flesh; but with us is the Lord our God to help us, and to fight our battles." (2 Chronicles 32:7-8)

I am so grateful today that I am an American. I am proud of it. I love this country and I appreciate those brave men and women who pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor to the establishment of a nation where the gospel could go boldly, nobly forward, "to sweep the earth as with a flood" (Moses 7:62). And I am grateful for the brave men and women who today are defending the borders of our land at home and abroad, and for their families who sacrifice time with their husband, wife, father, or mother so that we can enjoy time with ours.

I hope you will take the time to watch this video--all of it. And if it moves you at all, if it brings you to tears or makes your heart swell with gratitude, don't just think, "wow, that was neat." Begin again with me and start living your life in a way so that the individuals who didn't get to come home will have not died in vain.

"Shall we not go on in so great a cause? Go forward and not backward. Courage, brethren: and on, on to the victory! Let your hearts rejoice, and be exceedingly glad."

(D&C 128:22)