Awaken

Awaken 

There is a scripture in the Book of Mormon (Alma 5:7) that I have always loved.  Alma is teaching how he and his people were saved and delivered.  Alma said, " He (meaning God) changed their hearts; yea, he awakened them from a deep sleep and they awoke unto God." These were people who had experienced some very difficult things but when they heard a prophet teach them about Christ and forgiveness and repentance, they "woke up" from their old life and turned to a new one, one that included a change of heart.  They became new people from the inside out and it is that change that gave them the strength and courage to endure what they did.  

My Uncle has a beautiful home in Southern Utah.  The backyard sits up against a desert reserve for the desert tortoise.  In his living room, there is a huge window that offers a beautiful view of the desert and Snows Canyon.  At anytime of the day, the view is spectacular.  It feels as if you are in a postcard.  Sometimes I think about that view and  I realize, it is comfortable here, the a/c is on, there are no bugs, the couch is soft, water is within a few feet.  It seems I get the best of both worlds, I can enjoy the beauty of the desert without the inconvenience of nature.  But isn't that like being asleep?  In my life, I wonder if I have spent it being "asleep".  Don't get me wrong, I have a great life, I have the "nice view" (great family) and the "comfortable couch" (gospel) but sometimes I wonder what it is really like out there in the desert (meaning life experience not the world.)  It's hot.  There are bugs.  Water is scarce.  And a million other reasons that keep me safely inside looking out.  Then I read stories like Unbroken about Louis Zamperini.  He was a man who defied all odds and survived terrible circumstances being shipped wrecked and a POW during WWII.  He was also a very fast runner.  Did the mile in 4:08.  Growing up, he was a little wild but he had a good family and an older brother who watched out for him.  In other words, he had a "nice view" but he wasn't content sleeping behind the glass window so he set out for the "desert".  His journey into the desert took him many places, some of which he probably wished he didn't have to go but he did it and his life was made better for it.  After the war, he battled his own demons but later became an advocate and mentor for troubled teenage boys.  He "awoke unto God" and made his life and the lives of those troubled teens better, something he could not have done if he had stayed in "the living room with the nice view".  

It is pretty easy to get stuck and even fall asleep in the "living room with the nice view"  but the real living happens when we are in the desert.   I guess my question is can a person really "awaken unto God" without traveling in the desert?  After all, the "desert" has many things to offer along with the heat, the bugs, not much water there is also incredible views, amazing animals and plants, at night, the stars are beautifully bright, places to explore and the history of people long since gone.  If one is prepared, the desert can be an amazing place full of fun, adventure and learning but one must leave "the living room with a nice view" to see, no, experience it.

I wonder at this stage in my life, have a left my "living room with a view" to experience the "desert"?  Have I "awakened unto God"?  I think I have moments of awakening but I want to wake up and stay awake like the people of Alma, like Mr Zamperini. I guess that means I better strap on some good shoes (scriptures), plenty of water (prayer), open the door (faith) and head out on my journey (courage). That journey might include going back to school, learning new skills (my homemaking skills can use a little tune up! Ha), learn spanish, quilt, travel, write a book, run a sub 2 hour half (that one has been on my bucket list for a loooonnngggg time!) or a 10000 other things.  I think it is time to wander a bit in the desert...but I'll have my phone in case Cody needs to bring me water... HA!

God, is that from you?

   Recently, while visiting with some friends and family, we started exchanging missionary stories.  I told of an event that happened on my mission that raised my heart rate a bit.  Let's just say I was in a foreign country, speaking to 4 police officers and was without my passport.  Not exactly a comfortable situation.  It all turned out ok and, thankfully, I didn't have to spend any time in the pokey.  ;)  However, when I left my friends and family that day, I had the distinct impression that maybe I had misspoke.  It was perplexing and the more I thought about it, the more I wondered if I had offended the spirit.  I thought back to the conversation and asked myself: 

1) did I offend those with whom I spoke?  I didn't think so.  

2) was it truthful? yes. I know my memory isn't what it use to be but this experience rattled me enough to leave a lasting impression on me. 

3) was it relevant to the conversation?  Maybe reminiscing about mission experiences that happened 20+ years ago have lost their humor and or impact.  That could be true but I didn't think it was something that would make me feel like I did something wrong.  It was a weird sensation and I tried to understand it.  Later when I prayed,  I wondered out loud what was causing me so much distress.  It was when I applied the word distress to the feeling that I realized that maybe this wasn't from the spirit, that maybe this was one of those misty, confusing, fearful feelings that doesn't come from Father in Heaven but from the master of lies himself.  My, my he is sneaky one.  He knows exactly where the weak spots in my armor are and his aim is mighty accurate.  His weapon of choice was the arrow of doubt.  He makes it easy for a person to doubt memory, experiences and ability to express them.  

   I realized, quite suddenly as it turned out, that these feelings do not come from the spirit.  To be clear, I understand that when the spirit is offended because of something I have said or done, I know it!  Unfortunately for me, that is an all to often occurrence (sadly) but this time it just felt different.  As I was pondering about this whole experience, I had the thought that maybe I am still in kindergarten, spiritually speaking.  I'm still trying to learn my letters and the sounds they make, wishing I could put them together in sentences that make sense.  Furthermore, it feels like I have been in spiritual kindergarten for a heck of a long time.  I must have one thick skull!  My Teacher keeps hitting me over the head with that spiritual 2x4 and those knocks just don't seem to sink in.  Just when I think I get it, I realize how little I do not understand.  It can be a little daunting to think I may have to spend the next 10000+ years in spiritual kindergarten.  I just hope they have lots of chocolate pudding and recesses to help me through.  Ha!  One thing I do believe is that when Heavenly Father speaks to us, it is meant to calm us, help us, give us confidence and lift our burdens.  That is something I have been trying to hold on to so when that spiteful, confidence killer, lucifer comes around in my mind, I just tell him to get lost and leave me in peace.  The best part is, he has to listen to me and leave.  That must drive him batty!  Awesome

Wheat and Tares

In the scriptures, Jesus tells the parable about the wheat and the tares.  He spoke how they live and grow together, side by side, until the harvest comes when they are separated.  The wheat goes on to be useful and the tares are set aside, left to be trodden under foot or destroyed.  I hope on that day of harvest that I am among the Wheat.

Today, I went to the school to watch my daughters perform in the Dance Festival (which was absolutely delightful).  One of my dear friends was there with her sweet little boy who struggles a bit.  He has these eyes that could melt the polar ice caps, they are so warm and thoughtful.  He has a difficult time communicating but when one looks into those beautiful eyes, a person can see how intelligent and curious he is.  I sat with him for a couple of the songs during the program so his mom could record her other children.  Although I enjoyed interacting with him, it was work.  It made me think of his mom and how she so patiently tends to his needs ( and those of her 5 other children) with love, kindness and understanding.  She is Wheat.

When I was 6 months pregnant with baby number 5, Cody and I decided to visit his parents while they were on their mission in Nauvoo.  What a wonderful, although very cold (December in Illinois with an ice storm is dang dang cold!) trip we had with them.  One evening, we were sitting on the couch watching a church movie and my wonderful, loving mother in law rubbed my pregnant feet for two hours.  (I have to say when it comes to mothers in law, I hit the jackpot!)  I have known for a long time that she is Wheat.

When I lived in Washington, across the street from me lived a woman who was one of the most open and kind hearted people I've ever known.  She was always quick with a smile or a chat even though she was busy raising two kids and working.  She worked diligently in her yard, especially in the spring and summer.  I am not much of a gardener (so sorry dad!) but she was always so good to take my little girls under her wing and teach them a few things about planting and harvesting.  She is another person who is Wheat.

I see these three women who come from different backgrounds, age groups, religions and I realized the thread that weaves them together is their love of God and love for their neighbor.  In my opinion, what makes a person Wheat can be boiled down to these two commandments.  Believing in Jesus Christ and following his teachings makes seeds grow into wheat and because Jesus is a God of miracles, He can even turn tares into Wheat (with a little bit of work on the part of the tares)

So what makes a tare?  one who loses faith in Jesus Christ, one who rebels against the 1st and 2nd commandments, one who effectively pulls others away from Jesus Christ through words, actions, example, one who would rather be "in the world" than live by faith and follow Christ.  There are a 1001 reasons to walk the road that makes a person a tare.  The world likes tares. There are only 2 reasons to be Wheat: Love God and Love our Neighbor.  This road is not so easy.  It requires work, patience and kindness.  It requires us to follow the Savior even when we question what He is doing or where He is going.  The purpose isn't always to understand, it is to follow.  He promises us so much, so many many blessings, if we can exercise our faith and just keep following Him.

Tares are sad.  They find answers to their injured faith from the world and think being Wheat is wrong, bad, stupid, time consuming.  They walk on their path to taredom thinking they are free from the "bonds" of church attendance, tithing, service within a church community, morality, health codes or any number of things that dissolves the faith that was once in them.

The question is, where am I? Where are you?  Following Jesus Christ has less to do with what church a person belongs to.  Church is a vehicle by which we are reminded of blessings and covenants that the Lord gives to us.  Without these reminders, we would dwindle in unbelief.  The real message is the Gospel of Jesus Christ, what He taught while on the earth.  Do I live the Gospel of Jesus Christ? Am I doing all I can follow Him even when the road is long, dusty and hard?  Do I have faith that what He taught will help me return to Heavenly Father?  To be with my family?  That is what makes Wheat, well Wheat.  One day, He will come again and those who believed Him and followed Him will be with Him and the tares will be left aside to be trodden down and destroyed.  It will not be a good day to be a tare.

Oh man I hope I am Wheat

Dear Sara

Debi wrote a wonderful blog on the kind of girl she hopes her boys look for in a wife.  Go check it out http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.sacajaweasinging.blogspot.com%2F&h=DAQBsbK6XAQD_TxxgIpKnsKPtRmIioAoi7IUzbyf6qd1j-Q
It got me to thinking what I would say to you about boys and marriage.  Debi's advice goes both ways.  I loved when she wrote to watch what people do.  That is more important than what they say.  I also loved her advice on you marry who you date so only date people that can and WILL take you to the temple.  I know you are only 14 and marriage is the last thing on your mind (well it better be! hehehe!)  but the choices you make today will put on the path for tomorrow.  What will those choices be?  I add to Debi's advice these three things:  Does he love the Savior?  Does he love his mom?  Does he love you?  If he loves the Savior and treats his mom with love and respect, chances are he will be someone worthy of you.  All the rest will come.  Your marriage will be the beginning of a new family, one that you and your husband will build.  It will be a life full of excitement, fun, frustration, adventure, growth.  There will be days when you wonder how life could possibly be any better and there will be days when you will burn dinner, the kids are screaming, husband had a bad day and all roads lead to you for comfort, help, understanding and love.  Big job but the Lord knows you can do it, otherwise He wouldn't ask it of you.  I know you will be a wonderful wife and and a kind and loving mother.  Sometimes I look at you and wonder why the Lord would trust to me such a valiant and strong spirit to raise.  Whatever the reasons, I am so glad He did.  You always have been and always will be a joy to me.
Love, Mom

Family Reunion

 I have to admit, the Hills know how to throw a party and not just any party, but a week long celebration of family, complete with food, boat rides, 4-wheelers, hikes, talent nights, devotionals, flag raising (scouts in uniform every morning and night), birthday party for the grandkids, fishing, family fun run, late night movie (Jane Eyre) and Buster's famous mechanical bull. It is THE EVENT of the year for all of the grandkids and for the adults too.

 
We do alot of "shuckin and jivin" as Grandpa Hill puts it, alot of tall tales and funny jokes. Plenty of dirty faces and the smell of smoke in our hair and on our clothes. The mosquitos were thicker this year but nothing a little pure deet couldn't handle.  
We laughed and played, listened to testimonies, admired the beautiful surroundings, listened to Katie's angelic voice and basically had ourselves a little piece of heaven. So glad we could go and partake.

.

Hit 40 shifting gears

Okay, I hit the big 40.  My mind still thinks it is somewhere between 18 and 25.  A few more wrinkles, gray hair and aches but all things considered, I'm still crusin.  I may have traded in my "Ferrari" for a "minivan" but I hit 40 and keep shifting gears. I am happy to report that my "engine" still works pretty well considering it is still beating but my "radiator" doesn't hold water like it use to.  Oh well, there are worse things... I also have to use the "premium" gas instead of "regular"...no more ding dongs and coke for lunch...more fiber and protein...or so they tell me.   Again, there are worse things...
One of the great things and worse things about driving a "minivan" is that  I am usually not alone.  There is always one or two or five little matchbox cars hitching a ride.  This isn't so bad either until they all start honking their horns at the same time.  That can really cause a minivan to blow a gasket or two.  Sometimes, I like to grab the very handsome Ford Ranger that parks next to me and take him out for a night on the town.  Usually a stop at our favorite fill station (Simply Thai) and then maybe a movie.  Ocassionally, we pack our bags and head to wherever minivans and trucks like to go, maybe the San Juan Islands or a trip to Cancun.  (That was a great trip but be careful, we got a matchbox car out of the deal...weird though, he came 9 months later...).  I must say, the trip so far has been fun, exciting, wild, scary, thoughtful, learning, mastering, sad, happy, interesting, and frankly, I wouldn't miss it for anything.
Yes, I have to say, 40 is old...kinda...and I kinda like it that way.  As my sweet mother in law says, "I earned every one of those wrinkles."  I agree.

Sometimes, as a mother, I get so caught up in my resondsibilites that I neglect my other role, that of wife. I go about my day, making lunches, getting kids to the bus, homework etc. If you are a mother, you all know the routine and not as often as I should, do I stop to think about that sweet husband of mine. Considering he works from home, I should be slapped! He works, works and works more. Not all of it is on his business, although he spends a great deal of time doing that, but he works on his church calling and just spent this last week putting hours and hours into Sara's mouse trap car and Jackson's science project. Not to mention, he has been on a "clense" for the last 18 days eating nothing but fruit, vegies and a little rice. I saw him lick the spoon after he put cod liver oil in his "smoothie". (It looks more like grass, grass with cod liver oil...YUCK!). Anyway, it is safe to say that when he is devoted to something, he goes all out. That is why I am so lucky. He is devoted to his family, church, work but mostly me. I love him more than I can say so I just wanted to say thanks to my wonderful, sweet, cod liver oil lovin, nearly perfect husband!

Oh no...and she is not even 2 yet!

In all of my kids, there comes that stage that I find more trying than most. You might think it is teething or crawling or even becoming mobile. For me, these are not so bad and in fact can be rather delightful. No, the stage I am refering to is that of self-diaper removal! You know the one where after you have spent 20 minutes bathing, lotion-up and dress your beautiful little one only to find her 10 minutes after that in the corner, undressed and diaper on the floor. Of course it is full of all the good things she ate for dinner last night and is all over her clean, lotiony legs and on her nice clean clothes. Okay, no biggie right. I have, after all, faced this before. Not to be outsmarted by a 21 month old, I clean her up, get her dressed (again) only this time her diaper is secure with packing tape. Yes! No way she is gonna get that baby off! I think I am winning this little battle of wills until I walk into her room after her nap. There she is in all her naked glory with her diaper hanging down. Yes, the tape is still intact around her waist but the rest of the diaper is left dangling like half a loin cloth. And she is laughing, enjoying her new found "freedom". Well, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em right so I started to take some pictures. Apparently she didn't quite finish what the diaper was intended to catch and yes, she peed on my leg...

Just another adventure in the wonderful experience called motherhood.

The Mental Click

There I was, standing on the scale thinking to myself “ How in the world did I get here?” That thought was followed by “I may as well accept my life as it is because it ain’t getting better.” What a bunch of crap!

And it was crap! I discovered the truth behind the saying “I think, therefore I am”. The power of our thoughts and the things we say to ourselves in the privacy of our minds, those words really do matter. If I think to myself that I hate to run, for example, I really will hate running and the more I say that, the more I will hate it.

Let me start by explaining a little about me. I have never been what one might call an overachiever. I was happy to go along the middle of the road, not sinking in the pits of self destruction and not flying with those souls whose soar above the average. I was the epitome of average and what was worse, I liked it there, the middle of everything. I thought it was okay to walk through my life avoiding the hard stuff. I managed to make my way pretty good, until I was faced with things that were hard and then, this average, soft, and weak person let life push her down. My solace of choice…food.

After my first baby, everyone told me how easy it would be to get down to my pre pregnancy weight, which for me, wasn’t all that bad. After about 6 weeks, I had ten pounds to go. Then, I faced a few challenges that took me from my easy and comfortable life to: What was I doing with my life. The challenges themselves were some that most people face and are not important but what is important is how I responded to them. Like a plant whose roots don’t grow deep, I was tossed around on the whim of the wind. I felt out of control, no direction, no conviction of soul, even making a decision of any kind was difficult. Unless I was eating. Now there was something I could do that I enjoyed, it was my choice and it felt good to satisfy cravings and fill what was empty. I realized that I could simply eat my way around, over, in, and through my problems.

It took me twelve years and five children later to finally realize that I needed to make some changes. It didn’t matter what the scale said, in my mind, I might as well weigh a ton. The realization came hard to me one day when I noticed that in all the pictures of my family; family vacations, Christmas, reunions, birthdays, all the moments we want to preserve and remember, I was always the one with the camera. I was not in very many pictures with my children and husband. That was simply because I HATED the way I looked in pictures. It was a reminder that might as well be etched in stone titled, “The Woman Who Lost Control”, so I tried my very best to stay out of the pictures or at least hide in the back and hope no one noticed me. How sad and destructive those thoughts were! What did that say about me as a person, a wife, a mother? My kids had all these pictures to remember those special occasions but I was not in them? If something ever happened to me, would they remember me? What I looked like, the way I smiled, how a sat or stood or held myself? It was then that I first came to realize that I needed to change. Some small thing changed in my mind…the mental click.

In the fall of 2009, my baby was 6 months old. I was feeling like I would never be able to get control of my eating and my life. I even started to think this is just the way I am…accept it. One thing I did try to do regularly was exercise. Was it effective? No, not really. It kept me from gaining more weight, but the struggle was never with activity, it was with food. So, I did my token “workout” 3 or 4 times a week. That fall, the gym offered enrollment in “The Biggest Loser” competition. The idea was based on the show only those who entered paid $500 and committed to 6 weeks with a trainer. Workouts 6 days a week and weigh in every Friday. There would be teams and based on who lost the most body fat percentage, the winners would be chosen. The sign-up sheet sat out on a table for a month and every time I walked passed it, I kept thinking, should I do this? No, it is too time consuming. No, it will be hard. No, it cost too much. At the time, my husband was starting his own business and money was very tight. To spend $500 on me seemed crazy! When I told Cody about my reservations, he sold a bookshelf and gave me some of the money and then said, “Don’t let anything else prevent you from giving this a try. You have been thinking about it for a long time, which tells me you want to do this but you are trying to find ways to talk yourself out of it…well don’t. Go sign up.” I did and that started my journey that has changed my life in so many ways.

I arrived on the first day early in the morning. I wondered just how hard this could really be. I mean, I have five kids. Could this really be much harder than trying to stretch emotional and physical needs to five little people and one husband? As the days went by, I realized it was more difficult for me. After the first week into The Biggest Loser, I felt tired, my brain felt fried, I was coming off my 12 year sugar buzz, and the workouts were brutal. I had many conversations with myself that week. “What the heck are you doing?” “Can you really last another five weeks?” “This was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done for $500 bucks.” Then, one day, early in the morning, 5:30 am to be exact, 11 days into it, I was trying to finish a strength and endurance class. You know how it is when you workout so hard but your body isn’t used to it, and you begin to feel sick. That was me right then. Once again, I started that conversation with myself and I finally asked myself the question, “Why are you here? Why? Why?” Then something happened. It was my new voice, my strong voice, my voice that tells me I can accomplish anything. (I think she was asleep for 12 years but that morning, she woke up.) I have a distinct memory of that voice saying, “Because you chose to be here.” When I realized that was me talking to me, something CLICKED in my brain. My thoughts shifted after that from “Why are you here?” to “What is it going to take to finish this class? To get through the next 20 minutes, 10 minutes, 5 minutes?” Was it easier to get up at the crack of dawn? Stop my sugar frenzy? Exercise? I wish I could tell you that it was easier, that everything just fell into place and I went on my merry way but no, it wasn’t easier. It was still hard, very hard, but what I did realize is that I CAN do hard things. I heard and felt that mental click. I wasn’t as weak or soft as I believed. In fact, as it turns out, I am strong and tough and I will do what it takes to take control of my life.

Wanted to add this to my previous post.

What a gorgeous life!

I have come to the conclusion that life is definately what we make of it. No matter the day or circumstance, we can always find a way to be happy. Even now, as I type, my soon-to-be 2 year old is at my feet crying, wanting her shoes or cheese or some other thing I can't quite understand. She is one who will definatley NOT be lost in a crowd, with her red hair, those beautiful eyes, her screeching. Who can miss that? I must admit, it is times like this when I ask myself, "What the heck?" I wonder if this is what God had in mind when He told us Family is where it's at! Really? She just brought me her poopy diaper from the bucket in the garage...how the heck did she even get in the garage? This is happiness? Can it be happiness to spend hours cleaning up the same mess? I think that is how people go insane, right? Oh wait, maybe insane people are happy because they are insane? Maybe insanity wouldn't be so bad, you know, you could do and say what you want and all people would say is "don't mind her, she is insane..." But I digress...back to happiness. A person can get a little blue thinking about all the crazy things a 2 year old can do, not to mention the 4 other kids and how they contribute to the chaos. Then, I remember, last night among the 10000 places I had to be and all the driving around I did to take kids here and there, I got this lovely, sweet little girl out of the car and as we were walking to the house, she wrapped her little arms around my neck and said, "Mama." All else was forgotten and in that moment, little Livy melted my heart. Something she is does rather well. Yes, this is happiness...