Church and Change

I didn't really want to go to church today.

I mean, the long-term part of me did want to go because, importance, but the short-term part of me felt tired and overwhelmed and discouraged at the thought of it.

There is so much change going on in the church, you know, and while I'm excited and passionate and supportive and dedicated, I'm also just tired.

Specifically, tired of trying to make the new home curriculum work well for my family. Because it turns out that children don't really want to sit down day after day and study the scriptures. Mine don't, anyway. It's not that we haven't had success with scripture study in the past, but lately (now that the big kids are going all different directions in the evenings, and the little kids (and me) like to sleep in the early mornings before seminary) it's gotten much harder to be consistent. So our studies are splotchy at best and are squeezed and molded to fill in cracks of time here and there whenever we can manage. And without the consistency, the children feel surprised and often offended when I show up at the table with my bible and the Come Follow Me manual, and I can then expect an unleashing of emotions from them that, honestly, I'd just rather not unleash.

Part of the discontentment that I feel comes from the fact that the idea of studying the New Testament with my children fills me with such passion and excitement, but the application of it has turned out much, much harder than I anticipated.

Earlier in the year a wise Relief Society teacher talked about earthquakes. How some earthquakes rattle beneath our feet without us even noticing, and others are strong enough to shake the plates in the cupboards, and others are so strong that they change the landscape of our cities and destroy things we've built.

"The church is going through an earthquake," she allegorized, "a big one. And the landscape of our homes should change. Some of the strong things and habits we have built through the years should crumble, and as we rebuild we should take care to rebuild according to the blueprints we have been given."

Yes! I thought. I can't wait to build my family back stronger.

But building something out of rubble is actually quite hard. You have to work at it. And I'm feeling a bit discouraged because of all the resistance I'm running into and all the time it seems to be taking, and I'm just not seeing much progress.

For all these reasons I just kind of wanted to shut myself up in my room today and let other people go to church. All the other people who are doing it right and doing it well.

But I kind of had to go, you see, because McKenzie had made the choice to skip all of her volleyball games today and go to church instead. We're in Arizona, she and I, for a three day volleyball tournament and when we found out it would be spanning over a Sunday I left it completely up to her whether or not she would play, watch, or even hang out with her team today. And as much as she loves playing volleyball, she hardly gave it a second thought and was confident and unshakable in her decision to skip all the games and go to church with me instead. I say she didn't give it a second thought, and that's true, but I don't mean to minimize that it was actually quite a hard thing for her to do. Not to make the decisions themselves, but to let the team and coaches know about her decisions. She received some judgement and teasing. Some of the girls aren't religious and they thought she was weird; some of the girls are also members of the church and McKenzie worried what they would think. But she did it anyway.

So with her as my example, I wasn't about to say that it was too hard for me to go to church today.

So we went.

We took the sacrament and we listened to the speakers and wouldn't you know, it was one of the greatest sacrament meetings I've been to in a long time.

Each speaker stood and spoke of the prophet, which was appropriate because apparently last Sunday President Nelson came and spoke in this area (in the very same venue that the girls played their volleyball games yesterday), so the speakers all had fresh testimonies of what that had been like and what they had learned.

They all shared the messages that had been most meaningful to them and I felt so much of the power, even second hand, that must have been there that day. The speakers first offered to me a message from President Oaks's wife who had said "living the gospel is hard," which I appreciated, and one from President Nelson's wife that reminded me that I need to be more diligent in seeking personal revelation in my own life, and that as I do that I will discover how the Lord wants me to handle this new church program in my family. I came away with a message from the bishop who reminded me that I stand behind our prophet, that I believe in him and trust him with my whole heart and that I know he is taking us to higher places if we follow him. The bishop also reminded me that the Lord is asking us to 'forsake all and follow Him' which, put in the words of that wise Relief Society teacher, means He's asking me to change the landscape of my home and my heart and to rebuild according to His blueprints.

McKenzie came away with a message from the prophet who had said, "You can stand for righteousness by being where you are and by not being where you aren't." She felt the spirit confirm that, for her (and her only - no judgement for any of the other girls), she was standing for righteousness by being in church and by not being in her volleyball game. And another message from President Nelson who had also said, "When people call you weird, wear it like a badge of honor."

My heart was so full by the end of the meeting, and when we sang the closing song, I couldn't sing around the lump in my throat.

Savior may I learn to love thee.
Walk the path that thou hast shown.
Pause to help and lift another
Finding strength beyond my own.
Savior may I learn to love thee,
Lord, I would follow thee.

After church, Kenz and I had a really great conversation over lunch and I got to thank her for being such a great example to me. I told her about all the feelings I had been having and that if it hadn't been for her example I probably wouldn't have gone to church today and would have missed out on so much. And when I mentioned to her that I felt like everyone but us seemed to be doing a great job with the home study, her eyes widened in surprise and she said, "Mom, no. I don't see that at all. You are encouraging us, day after day, to study on our own. You're helping us find time to do it and reminding us that it's important. You pull us together for family devotionals more than once a week... I'm not seeing that in other places. You are doing a great job. You're just seeing what you're looking for, and not the reality."

So I'm going to try to reach out and encourage those around me who may be feeling the same way. Maybe we're all feeling that way, and we don't realize that we're not alone. This is hard. Teaching the gospel to your kids is hard. Creating a Christ-centered home in the society of today is hard. But I'm going to do my best to do it for my own family and to help others do it in theirs.

Because it's so worth it.

Timothy's birthday

I remember my 6th birthday. I remember the scooter with the giant wheels and the freedom I felt navigating our brand new neighborhood with it. I remember my hair pulled up in a ponytail, and that there were enough strands falling out of the elastic that I had to stop my scooter every once in a while to brush the loose hairs away from my eyes and my lips. I remember what my mother looked like that day... her golden hair curled away from her face and her red, shiny lips, always parted in a smile, framing her perfectly white teeth, and in that smile I believed that all the love in the world belonged to me that day...

6 year old birthdays are magic.

This year it was Timothy's turn to have one. And, let me tell you, he deserves every bit of birthday magic. He has a gift in being able to fill places with love, and we benefit from that all the time. In fact, I frequently get comments from school parents about how Timothy has a special place in the heart of their son or daughter, and I'm not ever one bit surprised. So it was a great thing to celebrate his birthday and make him feel as special as we could for a whole entire day.

And, as luck would have it, his birthday fell on a Saturday this year, which made it extra perfect because Daddy was there for all of it.

We opened presents early, and everything was a dream come true. Six year olds are my favorite that way.

After presents, we headed to Shark Reef. Yep, he was just there the month before, but it had been such a hit for him as his Christmas present that he wanted nothing more than to share it with the rest of the family.

While Brian stood in line to get us tickets, the kids and I walked around the Casino and happened upon a window with gorgeous light streaming in. I immediately wanted a Birthday Picture with all the kids, which ended up not being much of a Birthday Picture since the Birthday Boy wanted nothing to do with the camera.

And that mentality lasted for most of the rest of the day. Any time I pulled the camera out, he would slink away and sulk, seeming to think, I can't believe she wants to take pictures today of all days. Doesn't she know it's my birthday?

McKenzie tried to convince him to come in for just one shot, but he would not have it.

Which was fine. I had other cute subjects to work with.

Eliza doesn't like to go many places without her blanket. And McKenzie will often tie it around her like a cloak, which she loves. Also pictured above, the boys wrestling. Always.

After the tickets were purchased, we found our way inside and Timothy began leading us in an official tour of the place. He is an expert, of course, because, he was here last month.

Again, I tried to get a picture of Timothy with the kids.

So then I decided to honor his birthday wish and stop trying to get him to cooperate for a picture. And I focused most of my picture taking efforts on the littlest of the bunch who, along with Baby, was absolutely enamored with all of the ocean life.

She couldn't stop pointing and watching and gasping. Adorable.

And I eventually sneaked in a picture of Timothy without him seeing.

Screens have the effect of making him oblivious to his surroundings, you know.

Eventually we had seen all the things we could see and it was time to head out to his favorite lunch spot, Zupas, to continue the celebration. After one pause at the friendly turtle for a family picture which consisted of Timothy burying his head in defiance against the picture, and Eliza screaming her protests, and Miles poking the poor friendly turtle in the eye, and the mother of the family completely missing, we were on our way.

I promise we were all happy - it's jut that the camera somehow made everyone so unhappy that you wouldn't know it from the pictures.

By the time we made it to Zupas and filled our stomachs with soups and salads and sandwiches, Timothy had stopped resenting the idea of a picture quite so strongly, and even conceded to get one picture of all the kids before McKenzie and I headed off to her volleyball tournament for the rest of the afternoon.

So much love in this picture.

Kenz and I then went to her tournament where I watched her play three games (which they lost, unfortunately) and then we rushed home to do cake.

For his cake, Timothy requested 'a Mario cake in the shape of a 6 with a 6 poking up, and, like, with a track for Mario Kart and lots of the characters'.

Bless that internet. I barely had to lift a creative finger.

I knew our Birthday Saturday was going to be full of chaos and fun, so I made his cake the night before and let it sit out in the open air all night and throughout the whole next day.

I know you're probably thinking this was a terrible idea because dried out birthday cake is disgusting. But see, birthday cakes are less like a dessert and more like a decoration and a show of love around here. Around here we think that un-dried-out birthday cake isn't really all that much better than disgusting, anyway. And so, figuring out how to wrap up something like that when we weren't even going to eat it seemed like quite a waste of time.

When we walked in the door we were happy to find the whole place teeming with kids and energy. It was a fun change of pace to have Brian in charge of birthday hours and he did a great job. A couple of the friends stayed to sing happy birthday and to have a cupcake or two or three - and no one seemed to care at all that the cake was a little extra crispy.

He is such a loved little boy! And at the end of the day, he went to bed feeling all that love and feeling quite a bit older.

McKenzie's Birthday

Things are changing. For her birthday this year she didn't ask for crafts and kits and something to play with. She asked for cash and shoes and wireless ear buds and one (hail mary, long shot, might as well ask for it) iPhone.

This girl is a full blown teenager.

And not just any shoes, let's back up, but mustard yellow and white checkered Vans. Apparently that's the thing these days, she told me, and all the stores in town and online seemed to validate that by slapping their Out Of Stock signs every place the mustard yellow and white checkered Vans should have been. Fortunately however, the favored Vans aren't quite as favored in Park City at the moment (and also fortunately, Brian and I happened to be in Park City the week before McKenzie's birthday) so when we happened to drive by the Vans outlet store on our way home from dinner one night (by typing it into GoogleMaps and driving 40 minutes out of the way), we were able to pick up a pair.

I might have hugged the box when the store clerk brought them out.

But that was only because I knew it would be the highlight of her birthday. And it was. So even though I don't generally subscribe to brand names in general, it was fun to see her so excited about a pair of shoes.

We let her open them up early in the morning and they went immediately on her feet. And on her way out the door to Seminary I knew that the day was destined to be great because of all the happy energy that seemed to be originating right from those feet.

A few hours later, Eliza and I checked her out of school during her lunch period because somehow through the years, that has become tradition. We didn't have much time, unfortunately, because lunch periods are a joke these days, so she picked the Southwest Diner right here in town and we talked and laughed while she wolfed down her giant burrito.

Later that night I fried up some Fry Bread to make Navajo tacos for dinner per her request and it made me smile because Navajo tacos were my favorite food when I was about her age, too. In fact, I remember sitting down on the grass in the middle of Swiss Days one year as a teenager with a giant Navajo Taco in my lap (actually, they called it a Swiss Taco because, Swiss Days). I was feeling grumpy that I smelled like sauerkraut, and wishing that I could have been working in the Navajo Taco booth instead of the bratwurst and sauerkraut booth because then I could be smelling like a Navajo Taco instead.

Of course, through the years, my adult self has realized that smelling like a Navajo Taco isn't as fabulous as my teenager self once thought it would be.

But I do it anyway, on occasion. Especially for this girl.

This next picture sums up one of the greatest things about McKenzie. She is a protector. She loves her little brothers and, consciously or not, fills her role of being the big sister with passion.

After the above picture was taken, I realized that I wanted Eliza to be a part of it too, but since Eliza was all the way across the table buckled into her seat, I felt it would be easier to ask all four of the older kids to move their bodies rather than unbuckling Eliza and moving hers. (And so illustrates the thought that sometimes she is more of a handful than all four other children combined.)

I don't know if you can tell, but Eliza was not entirely happy to be involved in the picture. It's because Timothy was standing next to her, and she has a little bit of an issue with Timothy these days. You see, she has it in her head that she deserves 100% of my time and attention, and Timothy sometimes gets in the way of that plan. So whenever he gets close to her she reacts unkindly, which is so sad to see because Timothy genuinely has nothing but love and affection for her (which, to her credit, he shows rather boisterously at times), and her unkindness crumbles him. And so we see again the protector in McKenzie, Timothy has no idea about what's going on right next to him because of McKenzie's strong and loving arm placed purposefully around her little sister.

Then I wanted a picture of just McKenzie, but Miles had other ideas.

Neither of us noticed him there until after I'd taken the picture, and then when I pointed him out, we all laughed for much longer than you would have expected.

Eventually the night came to an end and we sent McKenzie to bed with lots of hugs and kisses and glad you were borns. And after she'd disappeared into her room for the night I realized that I hadn't gotten a single picture of her with the number 15 in it (and apparently I felt it was important to do so), so I ran upstairs and pulled her back out of her room to 'sit on the stairs by your 15 so I can get one more picture.' 

Brian didn't know I had this on my agenda, nor did he see me run up the stairs to get her, so when he turned around from doing the dishes in the kitchen at the base of the stairs and saw McKenzie like this, meditating, after we'd already sent her off to bed, he was obviously confused.

"Uh, Kenz?" He stared, "What the heck?"

We laughed for much longer than you would have expected.

Eventually she calmed down enough for us to get one 'normal' picture, and then was sent to bed for the final time that night.

A few days later, I packed her and a few of her friends into the car and headed off to an escape room where we all worked together to make our way out of a(n absolutely disgusting) jail cell. (It wasn't actually disgusting, but it was made to look so, complete with a nasty toilet (with dirty water at the bottom (that we had to DIG THROUGH! (and when I say 'we' I mean Jayce (he was our hero.))))

(Do you see the mustard yellow and white checkered Vans on two of the girls up there? I'm telling you, it's the thing.) (Do you also notice that there are boys in this picture? Teenage boys? Like, 'I want to invite teenage boys to my teenage birthday party' boys?! It's cool. Totally cool. I'm not making it a thing, you are.) And then we all went back to our house where a few more people came to celebrate McKenzie with a riveting tournament of Mario Kart.

Eliza was happy to watch everyone play and seemed to enjoy the energy in the house (which isn't always the case).

I watched these kids all night, and it's funny because sometimes I don't feel all that removed from being a teenager myself. And then in other ways it feels like another lifetime. Weird.

They played other games, wrestled (boys), talked, wrestled (boys), ran around, wrestled (boys), and finished the night off playing volleyball.

It was a fun night. And at the end of it McKenzie said, "you know, I used to think that Carson and Miles were so weird for wrestling around all the time, but now I realize that it's just boys!" Her eyes were rolling wide and Brian and I laughed right out loud while she continued, "Those boys were on the ground all night!"

And we laughed for much longer than you would have expected.

Happy Birthday, my love!

Deer Valley - Day 3

The last day started the same as the other two, with Brian learning about eyeballs and me at the windows, and when Brian was finished with his meetings, he came up excited to get out on the slopes. I, for whatever reason, was not so excited. Actually, let's be honest, it wasn't for whatever reason... it was for the particular reason that the front of my ankles were not going to like being tucked into their ski boots again. They were telling me loud and clear that if I was going to ski moguls with my weight on my heels during day two, there would be consequences on day three.

I said I was sorry and I said I'd put my weight on my toes this time but, of course, they weren't interested in apologies.

Eventually I stopped dragging my feet and we were dressed and ready to go.

Out on the mountain, my ankles reminded me to lean forward. They'd shoot their warnings up my legs every time I leaned back even a little, and I knew if I kept that up I wouldn't be able to make it through the whole day. So I practiced. I leaned forward again, and then again, correcting my balance over and over, unlearning years of self teaching, learning how to do something I already loved doing. It felt weird and unnatural. I felt a little bit out of control and asked if we could go ski green hills for a bit while I practiced

And then it clicked.

I popped out of my turns and shifted my weight from one leg to the next almost effortlessly and felt far more in control of my movements than I ever had before. It felt so good that my hands went up in a victory pump and I shouted as I carved that green hill all the way down on my toes.

So we ventured on to harder hills.



And, you know what, despite all the pain and the difficult work of correction, it was by far my favorite day. The moguls were easier, and it gave me such a rush of adrenaline to see a path to improvement. I still have a long way to go, but it felt good.

And doesn't this story just yield itself to some great life lessons? It's easy to get comfortable in the way we're running our lives, it's easy to follow the same patterns and feel like everything is going smoothly. But God knows that there are places in our lives where a small change in our form would open up so much more to us, and sometimes the only way for him to get us to understand is to let us feel a pain that's strong enough for us to want to make that change.

Anyway, enough of that. Let's talk about my favorite hill.

My favorite hill was also my least favorite hill. Because while most of it was beautiful, fun, challenging and exciting, the first fifth of it was a steep sheet of ice.

Here's Brian on that portion:

He's the one down in front. I promise you, it was much steeper than it looks in this photo, and the fact that it was a complete sheet of ice all down the middle and most of the sides made it feel even steeper.  People were crashing all over the place.

Brian was there for a while... his ski had popped off in the crash, and the hill was steep enough that he had trouble getting the ski flat enough for him to be able to click his boot into it, but there was no loose snow with which to build himself a shelf. So instead, he had to hack away at the ice until he eventually created a shelf to place his ski into and finally re-click his boot.

We went down this run over and over again, and each time I just prayed that I'd get down this one portion in one piece so I could enjoy the rest of it.

By the end of the day we were exhausted. I've never skied three days in a row before. After the lifts closed we sat in these chairs, and I swear to you there have never been more comfortable chairs.

We had spent most of the day with Allison and Raymond again, and partway through we bumped into Ravi and were happy that he joined us for the rest of it.

Here's another perspective on the common 'toes in the sand with the ocean behind them' picture we all love so much:

I know I said this in a previous post, but I love to watch Brian with these guys. He has landed in a work atmosphere that he loves, full of good people that have similar personalities and interests. They have become such good friends for him.

Here Brian is, convinced that if he does this enough times dressed in all the ski gear and boots, he'll drastically improve his vertical jump:

That night, we went with Allison and Raymond to Fireside Dining which was a fun and unique experience.

As we walked in, the lady at the coat closet insisted that she take my coat. I smiled and hugged my warm coat around my body and said, "actually, I think I'm going to keep it. I feel a little chilled."

"It will get much warmer as you get in further," she responded.

"That's okay. If I get hot I'll just put it on the back of my chair."

She got a little irritated and said, "We've been picking up chairs off the floor all night... and it's a very busy night so we have a lot of tables and chairs packed in there... there really isn't enough room---" I interrupted her panicked monologue with a little, "okay, how about you take my coat." She looked triumphant as I unzipped it and handed it over.

And, for the record, she was right, it was plenty warm inside with all of the fires cooking the food in all of the rooms.

It was called Fireside Dining for a literal reason... we dined near the fireside, or firesides, I should say, in courses. First course was cheese, melted off a giant cube hanging near the fire and dripping onto plates which were handed to us and which we then took over to a table full of cured meats and small, colorful potatoes, and olives, and mustards which we were to eat with the cheese.

It was incredible.

There were then steaks, and stews and soups and some kind of fancy hash browns slathered in creme fraiche. There was pork and lamb and salads and, to top it all off, flambe and chocolate fondue. Each course was stationed around its own giant fireplace where the food was cooked and handed out by servers... it was quite the fun experience.

And then, to end our evening, Brian and Allison wanted to go on a sleigh ride over the mountains. And since it would have been quite awkward for Brian and Allison to go alone, Raymond and I went too.

I was sure at this point that I was not ready to go home yet.

Brian and I stayed up late that night talking about the trip. Analyzing moments and deciding to do a better job at teaching our kids how to ski.

We woke the next morning to a fresh foot of fallen snow and prayed our little Nissan down the icy roads. There were a few tense moments and one moment where we had completely lost control of the car for several seconds, but all was well in the end. We made it into Farmington to see Con and Jean, and Heidi, Adam and Steve came for dinner as well. We were only able to stay a couple of hours, but it was great to say hello and hug them for a bit before we were on our way to the airport and then on our way home to the kids.

Until next year, Deer Valley.

Deer Valley - Day 2

Remember how I was going to talk about these windows? Seriously, don't they just fill you with all the feelings? Every morning I would wake up and have a few hours to myself while Brian attended meetings. I sat here. I couldn't imagine sitting anywhere else... For hours I'd sit and devour my scriptures - I can't remember the last time I was able to devote so much time to one particular thing without being interrupted a million times. And I can't remember the last time I was able to sit in so beautiful a place to do so. Actually, I do remember... living in Miami with those perfect windows out to the ocean was pretty unbeatable.

I've learned that not everyone gets it, but I have a real reaction to being surrounded by light and beauty. It fills me, energizes me, helps me. I think I need to move again and make 'giant windows overlooking something beautiful' one of the non-negotiables. 

Anyway, once Brian was finished with his meetings for the morning, he'd run up to the suite and we'd throw our ski clothes on and head out to the mountain.

On Thursday morning when we first rented our skis, two different people running the rental shop commented on the fact that we were not renting helmets to go along with our skis.

Which I found odd.

And a little gimmicky.

Because when I was growing up, no one wore a helmet on the slopes. And the paradigm in which I live says that the only time you need a helmet is if you're planning to do crazy stuff.

Which we weren't.

So when they offered the helmets to us, I politely declined, and when they offered again I said, "No thanks, we're not doing anything too crazy." And so off we went with nothing protecting our brains but our skulls.

Well, it didn't take long to feel that perhaps my paradigm was a bit old fashioned (or perhaps it was just Deer Valley), because everyone on the slopes had a helmet. And when I say everyone, I literally mean that I saw only two other people all day that were behaving as reckless as we. There were helmets in the lines, on the bunny hills, walking into the lodge... everywhere. Now, generally I'm not one to be peer pressured into things, but it got us thinking and made us uncomfortable enough that on day two we went back into the rental shop and rented two helmets to keep for the rest of our time.

I suppose it was the smart thing to do. And, anyway, don't we look stunning?

We met up with several friends on the slopes on the second day. Raymond and Allison, Ravi, and Steve and Debbie all joined us and we spent much of the afternoon together, laughing at each other when we fell and encouraging each other to try new things.

I loved watching Brian grow in this skill. He had been a little tired, cold, and frustrated by the end of day one, but by the end of day two he was having a great time and not ready to go.

I, on the other hand, was quite tired and ready to go by the end of day two because I'd spent much of the day working on moguls, which showed me that I currently have much to be desired in terms of aerobic fitness.

But regardless of whether we were ready to go or not, the ski lifts closed, and since we were unwilling to walk up the mountains, we went home.

I had time to take a long hot shower and get ready for dinner, and Brian had time to attend more meetings to learn about how to be an better eye surgeon.

After that, we headed out to dinner with our good friends, Allison and Raymond. This was the view as we left our suite and looked down into the lobby.

Raymond and Allison had gotten reservations to The Blind Dog - which was a great seafood restaurant in town. They only had room for us at the bar (but it was a table in the bar) and the waitress was visibly frustrated when she learned that we would not be drinking for the night. I always feel a little twinge of guilt when I see the disappointment as the server realizes our bill (and therefore our tips) will not be quite as large as they had hoped, but in this case I think we redeemed our value a little bit by ordering four sodas, five appetizers, four entrees, and two desserts... and, surprisingly, we ate them all. I was quite impressed with ourselves, actually.  It was delicious food, and we stayed there for two and a half hours eating and talking and laughing.

There were only a couple of awkward moments when the drunk and/or mentally disabled man dining alone next to us (right next to us) wouldn't scoot over enough for me to slide into the bench at our table, or when he interrupted the waitress as she was taking our orders to ask for dessert, but it certainly added to the fun of the night.

And before we left the restaurant, I felt like we had to get at least one smudgy selfie.

It was a beautiful day and a carefree night, if you don't account for the weather. If you do account for the weather then the night had some cares as I fought the cold air. My brain wants to believe that if there is cold air on my skin - anywhere - then I am in danger of dying.