Record the Mark

I have a goal.

Not one of those new year's resolution types.

The kind of goal that has been on my heart my whole life. 

Before I even knew it was there...

it was.

Maturity brought understanding of what I want, brought it into picture, but logically it has felt more like a just a day dream of a possibility...children's' laughter in the distance.

Still...I make plans.

Some goals are all about doing, checking off lists and being done.

This goal feels out of my control, but I am willing.

So I do what I can do now to prepare for the opportunity,

and I pray.

Then, just like that He hears.

A casual kitchen conversation reveals that God works in mysterious ways. The day goes on like nothing happened, but I know....I witnessed hope with my own ears; still my heart is a little slow to celebrate...still cautious weighing reality, hope....my own fear.

Still distant, but every step is counts, so I record this mark.

2013

Enough.

Enough food.

Enough time.

Enough money.

Enough love.

I have enough.

I am enough.

You are enough.

He is enough.

Enough.

There are so many loud voices in the world and so many pressures and so much negative feedback. Our children are constantly being told that they are not enough. They are not good enough, or smart enough, or thin enough or rich enough. When they walk through the doors of our homes, and they must feel that they are enough. They must feel peace. Our homes must not be places of additional stress and pressure. They must be havens where each of our children can be valued and loved for just being themselves. As mothers, our role is to love and lead our children. In the words of Sheri Dew, “If we don’t show them there is joy in living this way, where else can they possibly expect to see it!”

~Elaine S. Dalton, A Return to Virtue

superlative

satan likes to whisper 
"wicked, unworthy, waste"
i listen
running in the dark
black shadows press
consume.

do i have a choice?

distant light
not yet pink
i think maybe
he lies.

breathe deep
run faster
not panic...
need

need to suck deeper
wake sleeping places.
legs and heart that want more
elevate me to runner's high,
superlative.

light encircles 
dark shadows.

beauty outlines 
the dim unknown.

illumination clarifies 
what once was feared.

fierce crave awakes...
faster,
i need to go faster. 
use it all til i'm empty
ready to be taken
filled with what matters.

autumn's claim burns gold
leaves and grass blaze around me
celebrating light
bright and warmth
full on my face

i seek it
suck it in
savor it
praise it

Random Acts of Kindness...Year 5

I'm often surprised at how real, deep and even overwhelming the grief can still be. It's been five years. Five years to get used to not calling her when silly things happen. Five years to get used to not seeing her at family gatherings. Five years to get used to not sharing my life with her. I've done a lot in the last five years, but getting used to having my sister gone is not one of them.

However, I do have a better understanding of where she is and what she's doing. A better understanding of Heavenly Father's love for all his children. A better understanding of the comfort given by the Savior's atonement. A better understanding of how all life's mess can make me a better person....and that is why I love Random Acts of Kindness.

Random Act of Kindness began as a way to remember Ruth, Nick and Audrey, because that's how they lived, because that's how we were blessed during our initial loss, and because now that's how we choose to live our lives.

Now, when I feel that gaping hole threatening to rip me clear through, I can think kindness instead of pain.  Sometimes it comes on fast, when I need a quick save....hurry, smile at the next person you see.... make eye contact....say hello...ask and listen about how they are, what they need. And sometimes it is a little more deliberate, following through on a phone call or an invitation I've put off way too long. Little by little neurons are trained to be kind instead of hurt, to look out instead of in.

As the kindness habits grow it is impossible to not see the kindness I receive. A good friend taking my kids overnight, not just feeding and housing them, but caring and comforting....even taking my son to soccer practice. Ten total kids and she still manages to take mine to soccer. She is kind, I am grateful.

I notice the kindness that comes even when there wasn't a need.  The kind that comes for no other reason but that you are loved. I was up early, so happy to be spending time with my husband, but wishing just a little I could be with my family as well. We were on a morning run in a strange and beautiful park. We ran up and around huge red rocks and reached the top in time to see the sunrise. It was red from all the smoke from summer fires, and made for an amazing view. Who knew this was what my sisters were doing at the same moment...waiting for that sunrise...it wasn't planned to all be there together miles apart, but there we were. Even God couldn't resist getting in on a day of Random Acts of Kindness.

Rosalie's Eyes

I remember the last time I went to the Barrus Family Reunion. I was maybe 10 and I knew nobody. It was awkward.  There were kids running all over the park and my parents kept saying, "They're all your cousins, just go play with them." But I didn't.  I was relieved when it was finally time to go.

Twenty years later I am ready to try again. I want to know more of the woman whose eyes I share. 

It all starts the same, with so many smiling faces....familiar but unknown and I keep thinking, "They're all your cousins, just go talk to them." 

And I do, a little. Mostly, I read histories posted on the walls, trying to connect the lines from them to me and wonder at the lives behind the dates and places.

I giggle when my dad's cousin and partner in crime starts teasing my daughter...she has no idea who he is and when I tell her of the mischief he and my dad used to get into, her eyes grow wide with surprise. And this is why I came. I am just not a mom anymore than my dad is just a grandpa, just as she will not always be a little girl. I want her to know that. I want to know that. Connecting these lives adds perspective and inriches our heritage.

Later, there was an unexpected surprise from a man I had never met. He sat down next to me with a plate of food and continued a conversation with my dad. After a while he asked who I was and I pointed at my dad and said I was his. He didn't offer any introduction so I ventured a guess based on his wrinkles and a smile that looks like hers. "Are you Rosalie's brother?" My dad confirms that this is his uncle Ruel, the one he was named for.  I had assumed his name came more from his grandfather....I'm not sure I even knew he had an uncle by that name.

Then I get the story.

He had been over three months in a prison camp in Germany with conditions that left him as thin as a rail when the tanks rolled in to pull them out. "Anyone here from California? Anyone here from New York? Anyone here from Idaho? And just like that he was free again. That same month my dad was born.

Again, I get to know different parts of these lives I admire. What it must have been like for my grandma as a young mother, worried about her little brother in a prison so far away...what it must have been like for her little brother in a prison so far away.

Later I got to see the house where my Grandma was raised, and my dad was born,  the two huge pine trees still towering in front. My dad looks for a long time with eyes handed down from his mom and I wish I could see his thoughts.

I've seen this house before, but it seemed so much easier this time to picture my grandma there as a little girl, now that I see my own little girl playing in the ditch, making clover rings and giggling; seeing it all with eyes just like hers.

Up, Over and Around

"Hey, you want to do Skyline in the morning?" she whispered just as the meeting started.

I didn't even hesitate, I love that beast of a run. Hesitation did come later as my tired bones struggled to tuck in kids and sweep floors. 5:20 am comes pretty quick, especially on my day off.  I guess I wasn't the only one since her first words out of her car were, "Maybe we should just run the river."

Too late. I was already committed. It's been months since we've ran up, over and around our little mountain, last time she was six months pregnant; this time I felt like I was.

It was hard, and my body is soft, but they both came through in the end. It was a beautiful view from shaking legs.

I stopped at the store on the way home and as I passed by other early morning shoppers I couldn't help but think, "I've been up and down a mountain today, what have you done?"

....and truthfully, I don't know.

Fighting Fires

Phew, that was a close one. 

I sigh relief as the stench of burned ashes blows off with the wind. Another disaster averted, it probably wasn't as bad as I thought...

the flames not as high as I imagined.... 

..surely there was no real danger. The few burns will heal quickly with proper coverings. 

I turn off the water and go get cleaned up, not wanting to investigate the cause. Preferring instead to believe that it was just a freak accident...

happenstance. 

Flare ups are bound to happen, but next time I'll be prepared and see the warning signs...

..catch it before it ignites, fireproof the surrounding dry tinder. 

I know I've got this.... 

I shiver as the hot wind blows through the charred, gutted shell.