When Greg was at BYU he always planned to come to Poland “to help build the church”. 2 1/2 years into our marriage and soon after his graduation, he quite suddenly and unexpectedly got a job in his homeland. Nine days later, we moved to the other side of the world.
There was no branch of the church anywhere near our little city but it was kind of fun catching the early morning bus for the 3 hour drive to church in Cracow every Sunday. Attending our little branch was such a different experience than I'd ever had in the church. A missionary was the branch president and there were very few priesthood holders of any other sort.
For probably 7 months we went. Same routine, every Sunday. It was a great experience. Greg didn't get a calling. Just about the time I started thinking that this seemed like quite a waste of resources (yes, I like to call my husband a resource), he was called as the branch president.
A few months later David was born. On our first trip to church after his birth when he was 4 weeks old, a kid sitting in front of us on the bus vomited all over. I gave his mother a handful of wipes and a sympathetic look and vowed to myself to never take my infant on a bus again.
So we got a car.
We'd only had the little red Fiat for about a month when the new Mission President asked if we could drive to Katowice to meet with him after he held a fireside there. So we went.
The drive felt like forever and ever. It was winter and it was very dark and we were very inexperienced in driving in Poland. We'd never been to Katowice. We got lost. Over and over. What should have taken us 3 hours took us more like 5. We missed the meeting but were still able to meet with the Mission president.
That night Greg was called into the Mission Presidency. He was to oversee the branches in southern Poland, 2, 3, and 5 hours away from where we live. And he did. And he loved the President and his fellow counselor.
About a year later a District was formed and he was released from the Mission Presidency and called as the Katowice District President.
That was nine years ago. Today he was released.
That nine years (10 1/2 if you count the time in the mission presidency) feels like our whole life.
We drove and drove and drove. We stayed in lots and lots of hotels some very scary, some quite nice and most completely serviceable. We ate lots and lots of plain rolls and cheese (and fast food).
Our family grew. Our testimonies grew. The branches grew. We spent lots of time with wonderful members of the church. I spent hours every Sunday talking to the missionaries while Greg had meetings and the kids played on the keyboard in the chapel or wrote on the white boards.
It was our life. We loved it. It changed a little as the family grew, but it was pretty much the same routine for all that time.
And we were blessed. David proved to be a baby and then toddler who just loved being in the car, even for long, long drives. The other kids never minded much either. Greg was blessed to work with some really wonderful men and I had the pleasure of spending time with their even-more-wonderful wives as we waited for them to finish their meetings.
We learned a lot. We overcame some of our weaknesses. We discovered new weaknesses. We worked to make everything fit (suitcases in the car, school and church trips in our schedule etc.). We struggled and we thrived.
Our kids grew up that way. It's all they've ever known.
Now they'll have dad sitting by them at church (I don't believe there is a single branch in our district where there is a row of 6 chairs together in the sacrament meeting room. Hmm. We'll have to work something out). They'll maybe even have a Primary teacher.
We'll have new adventures. We'll learn what regular weekends are. We'll sleep in our own beds. We'll eat fewer plain rolls with cheese (and fast food – glory be!)
It will be wonderful. And we will always, always be grateful for the blessing of these past 9 (or 10 1/2) years.
Showing posts with label sorta churchy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sorta churchy. Show all posts
Sunday, April 28, 2013
End of an Era (for us)
Sunday, April 22, 2012
We Just Wake Up and then Get Out of There
I woke up to the sounds of a young child wiggling in his sleeping bag. A tiny crack of light was coming in through the paper blinds so I knew it was getting to be morning, but my alarm hadn't gone off, so I also knew I could keep sleeping.
The sounds progressed from wiggling noises to loud sighs and finally to a declaration, whispered into the otherwise silent roomful of sleeping bodies: "I don't like going to hotels. We just go to bed, wake up and then get out of here."
While it was a very strange thing to hear first thing in the morning, he was right. Our weekend adventures usually consist of a long drive, hours spent at a chapel where Greg or I have meetings and then, finally, arriving at the hotel in time to go through the bedtime routine, sleep, and wake up early to head off to church again.
He was right that our hotels stays aren't super vacation-y (although they can be fun and have been know to be adventuresome at times). But he was wrong about not liking it. He loves going to hotels. He doesn't mind sleeping on the very hard floor in a sleeping bag. He never complains about the drive, though it's between 3 and 6 hours one way, depending on the branch.
Yes, although it's generally all business, we all love traveling for the church. I realized today that we have been taking these weekend trips from 1-4 weekends a month every month for the past 10 years, except for at the end of pregnancy. It's been our life since Greg has been overseeing the southern part of Poland (first in the mission presidency and then (now) as district president). Evie had just turned two when we started. It's been a big part of my parenting experience and my children's life. I just love it. I have a hard time imagining living a different way. I'm not sure how long it will last, but in this church when one adventure ends, a new one always begins.
The sounds progressed from wiggling noises to loud sighs and finally to a declaration, whispered into the otherwise silent roomful of sleeping bodies: "I don't like going to hotels. We just go to bed, wake up and then get out of here."
While it was a very strange thing to hear first thing in the morning, he was right. Our weekend adventures usually consist of a long drive, hours spent at a chapel where Greg or I have meetings and then, finally, arriving at the hotel in time to go through the bedtime routine, sleep, and wake up early to head off to church again.
He was right that our hotels stays aren't super vacation-y (although they can be fun and have been know to be adventuresome at times). But he was wrong about not liking it. He loves going to hotels. He doesn't mind sleeping on the very hard floor in a sleeping bag. He never complains about the drive, though it's between 3 and 6 hours one way, depending on the branch.
Yes, although it's generally all business, we all love traveling for the church. I realized today that we have been taking these weekend trips from 1-4 weekends a month every month for the past 10 years, except for at the end of pregnancy. It's been our life since Greg has been overseeing the southern part of Poland (first in the mission presidency and then (now) as district president). Evie had just turned two when we started. It's been a big part of my parenting experience and my children's life. I just love it. I have a hard time imagining living a different way. I'm not sure how long it will last, but in this church when one adventure ends, a new one always begins.
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Surprise! You're [going to be] on Camera!
Last Wednesday Greg came home from work and announced that a TV crew might be coming to our house the next day to film a Mormon family in Poland. "Oh! Good thing our house is always TV ready!!" I thought. No I didn't. I didn't think at all, really. What I did was finish the English lesson I was teaching and got straight to putting away some piles of things and hiding others. Greg suddenly came up with about 5 DIY projects that would have to be done.
We did it all and managed to not feel stressed at all. I spent the next morning cleaning and baking and practicing answering what questions I thought they might ask me about my faith and the GOP race in my head, in Polish (I'm quite fluent in my head!).
In the end, they came, they interviewed Greg (alone) for about 45 minutes, they recorded our family scripture study, they ate cookies and they left, 75 minutes total.
It aired and we are satisfied. It will not have people coming to the chapel in droves, but it also shouldn't scare too many people away. And, as we expected, clips with Greg and our family are numbered in the seconds. I typed up the translation underneath, so maybe read first then watch?
And one more interesting fact: We told the camera crew that Greg had narrated the documentary of the Sesquicentennial Celebration filmed by the same channel in SLC 15 years ago. Apparently they remembered because the old clips shown are from that documentary, including a shot of Greg sitting in Sacrament meeting (15 years ago!!), which you can see at :34.
Here's the clip: (And this is all very natural. We always sit smooshed together on one side of the room. And of course I never sit down for evening scripture study without making sure my lips are sparkly .We're in the second half.)
We did it all and managed to not feel stressed at all. I spent the next morning cleaning and baking and practicing answering what questions I thought they might ask me about my faith and the GOP race in my head, in Polish (I'm quite fluent in my head!).
In the end, they came, they interviewed Greg (alone) for about 45 minutes, they recorded our family scripture study, they ate cookies and they left, 75 minutes total.
It aired and we are satisfied. It will not have people coming to the chapel in droves, but it also shouldn't scare too many people away. And, as we expected, clips with Greg and our family are numbered in the seconds. I typed up the translation underneath, so maybe read first then watch?
And one more interesting fact: We told the camera crew that Greg had narrated the documentary of the Sesquicentennial Celebration filmed by the same channel in SLC 15 years ago. Apparently they remembered because the old clips shown are from that documentary, including a shot of Greg sitting in Sacrament meeting (15 years ago!!), which you can see at :34.
Here's the clip: (And this is all very natural. We always sit smooshed together on one side of the room. And of course I never sit down for evening scripture study without making sure my lips are sparkly .We're in the second half.)
So this all came up rather suddenly but it ended up being a pretty neat family experience.
Translation: Theoretically the race isn't decided, but there is one favorite. Mitt Romney will most likely be fighting Barack Obama for the White House this fall. If he wins the Republican nomination, he will be the first Mormon with a chance at the White House, but his religion will be an obstacle rather than an advantage. Mitt Romney: Republican, conservative and...Mormon. "Romney's Mormonism isn't harmful to anyone but himself, because people first say that he's a Mormon and th." But what's the problem? For many Americans Mormonism is a religion shrouded in secrecy. (American in Poland says:) "Most Americans don't know what Mormonism is exactly. Many think it's some kind of a cult, not a religion." Romney has answered the question "Are you a Christian?" many times. "I believe Jesus Christ is the son of God and the Savior of mankind." There are still many myths surrounding our religion, admits Darek Dresler, a Mormon from Warsaw. "People's opinions are based on westerns." For example, the issue of polygamy. The church's founder had over thirty wives, but that's in the past. "Any members who try to practice polygamy are ex-communicated." (Greg reading from BOM) " For they were desirous to take them that they might punish them..." There are over 13 million Mormons worldwide-- in Poland, about 1200. Greg Pawlik is one of them, and was asked what differentiates Mormons from Catholics and Protestants: "The first thing that differentiates us is the fact that we don't drink alcohol, and we don't smoke cigarettes... Besides the Bible we also read the Book of Mormon, which is why people often call us Mormons. We call ourselves members of the Church of Jesus Christ." In Poland Mormonism doesn't spark controversy, but in the United States it's a different story because the candidacy to the White House there are concerns. "That he might be more concerned about the good of the Mormon church than the United States." Big challenges ahead for Romney. He will have to answer questions not only about his platform, but also about his religion.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Faith and Other Young Women Values
I loved the Young Women program. I loved the beautiful, amazing women who were called to be my leaders. I wanted exactly what they had: strong testimonies and handsome, loving husbands and children. Because they had just what I was hoping to get, I listened to what they taught and watched what they did. I admired them and I believed them.
I loved attending Sunday meetings. I sat on the third floor of our chapel* during opening exercises at the huge table, made of a number of tables pushed together, and looked across at the Laurels on the other side. I dreamed of the day I would be in high school and would be smart and dating and, hopefully, one-tenth as beautiful as those girls.
I loved it when my teacher brought a basket full of freshly baked muffins or cookies to class. I loved the object lessons. I loved when they spoke about the things that mattered most to them and I felt the spirit and was changed.
I loved our diverse group of girls. I enjoyed it very much when the girl who was a year younger than me and had family problems came to church. She wore black and looked down and covered her face with her platinum blonde hair. If you ever caught a glimpse of her eyes, she was rolling them. I considered it my unofficial calling to get her to smile. I fellowshipped her the only way I knew how. I was glad she took kindly to verbal irony.
I loved Wednesday activities. I relished the chance to hang out with my friends on a school night. I liked doing service projects and playing games. I loved the hope that I'd see whichever-boy-it-was-I-had-a-crush-on-at-the-time playing basketball. I loved the joint activities, especially the broom hockey in the cultural hall, despite the fact that I came home with bruised and bleeding shins from all the brooms that missed the "puck" (folded pair of socks) and bashed my legs instead. To this day that is the only "sport" I've ever felt a deep love for.
I have a daughter. She's twelve. Apart from our family, there are five church members in our branch. None of them are young women. In our entire district (4 branches scattered across southern Poland) there are a total of 3 or 4 other young women.
Ewelina does not have what I had. Honestly, she doesn't have anything close to it. I realize we are all given different experiences and we can each grow from the situation we find ourselves in. It's still really hard. As long as 7 years ago or so I told people who asked that we would probably move back to the states by the time Evie was 12 so she could have the same character and testimony building opportunities that I had by attending Young Women.
But we're still here. She has contact with the other girls in our district. She is grateful, but it's not the same. She wishes she had what she saw this summer, when she was visiting her cousins in New Jersey. She misses what I had. I hugged her tonight as she cried about it, holding back my own tears.
And I need to find a way to be to her what my leaders were to me. But how!?! How on earth can I BE THAT? I need to be teaching her the lessons from the manual, but I should also be teaching my other three kids the lessons they should be learning in Primary. It is too much and I am weak and lazy.
Ev and I just sat down and talked about Personal Progress. I think she is excited. It is a fantastic program and will give her much of what I had and teach her the things she needs to know.
I am grateful for a Father who knows what we need and is ready to bless us with it. If we ask in faith, he will give it to us. I hope he will, even after having written a blog post about how the most I can expect to be given doesn't seem like enough. But I know that He can give whatever is required for Evie to develop a strong and sustaining testimony of the gospel. And, what it comes down to is that that is the thing I'm really after.
*our chapel was previously a country club. If you've watched God's Army you've seen it, when the missionaries are eating lunch on the terrace and the "Lamanite" calls down and preaches repentance to the inhabitants of Hollywood.
I loved attending Sunday meetings. I sat on the third floor of our chapel* during opening exercises at the huge table, made of a number of tables pushed together, and looked across at the Laurels on the other side. I dreamed of the day I would be in high school and would be smart and dating and, hopefully, one-tenth as beautiful as those girls.
I loved it when my teacher brought a basket full of freshly baked muffins or cookies to class. I loved the object lessons. I loved when they spoke about the things that mattered most to them and I felt the spirit and was changed.
I loved our diverse group of girls. I enjoyed it very much when the girl who was a year younger than me and had family problems came to church. She wore black and looked down and covered her face with her platinum blonde hair. If you ever caught a glimpse of her eyes, she was rolling them. I considered it my unofficial calling to get her to smile. I fellowshipped her the only way I knew how. I was glad she took kindly to verbal irony.
I loved Wednesday activities. I relished the chance to hang out with my friends on a school night. I liked doing service projects and playing games. I loved the hope that I'd see whichever-boy-it-was-I-had-a-crush-on-at-the-time playing basketball. I loved the joint activities, especially the broom hockey in the cultural hall, despite the fact that I came home with bruised and bleeding shins from all the brooms that missed the "puck" (folded pair of socks) and bashed my legs instead. To this day that is the only "sport" I've ever felt a deep love for.
I have a daughter. She's twelve. Apart from our family, there are five church members in our branch. None of them are young women. In our entire district (4 branches scattered across southern Poland) there are a total of 3 or 4 other young women.
Ewelina does not have what I had. Honestly, she doesn't have anything close to it. I realize we are all given different experiences and we can each grow from the situation we find ourselves in. It's still really hard. As long as 7 years ago or so I told people who asked that we would probably move back to the states by the time Evie was 12 so she could have the same character and testimony building opportunities that I had by attending Young Women.
But we're still here. She has contact with the other girls in our district. She is grateful, but it's not the same. She wishes she had what she saw this summer, when she was visiting her cousins in New Jersey. She misses what I had. I hugged her tonight as she cried about it, holding back my own tears.
And I need to find a way to be to her what my leaders were to me. But how!?! How on earth can I BE THAT? I need to be teaching her the lessons from the manual, but I should also be teaching my other three kids the lessons they should be learning in Primary. It is too much and I am weak and lazy.
Ev and I just sat down and talked about Personal Progress. I think she is excited. It is a fantastic program and will give her much of what I had and teach her the things she needs to know.
I am grateful for a Father who knows what we need and is ready to bless us with it. If we ask in faith, he will give it to us. I hope he will, even after having written a blog post about how the most I can expect to be given doesn't seem like enough. But I know that He can give whatever is required for Evie to develop a strong and sustaining testimony of the gospel. And, what it comes down to is that that is the thing I'm really after.
*our chapel was previously a country club. If you've watched God's Army you've seen it, when the missionaries are eating lunch on the terrace and the "Lamanite" calls down and preaches repentance to the inhabitants of Hollywood.
Monday, September 12, 2011
"Modern", Huh?
I quite like the site Modern Mormon Men. I've read some inspiring posts and some thought provoking posts and some funny posts. But I have to say, I've read a number of disturbing posts, too.
I don't call it wrong. The site is meant to have contriubtors on various levels of spirituatlity and activity in the church and with a broad array of backgrounds and opinions. But it's hard for me to read sometimes. I just went back to see if one contributor had responded to my late-coming comment on his post. He hadn't but a fellow commenter had. However, instead of clearing things up for me, it made things harder for me to understand.
The original post is entitled On Reluctant Patriarchy where "Abraham" tells of his journey from thinking he understood the scriptures and knew all the answers, to the moment of his enlightenment, which leads him down a path that makes him happy but turns his wife into a self-repressing sexist that he wishes he could liberate. At least that's the general idea.
My original comment went like this:
"In regards to the women and the priesthood and/or more "power" within the church, I am always very curious how more liberal people view this. Is it something that God is just behind the times on, or is it something that he is anxiously pestering the prophet to change, but the prophet is too conservative to listen or does God just want us to forget revelation and take a vote a la the Nicean Council (but, again, the prophet is unwilling to relinquish his power)? How does that work, the whole, "'The church'is wrong on this major doctrinal issue" thing?"
Followed by this:
"(That's a real question, not just a sass. I do respect other's opinions, and I just want to understand the thinking behind this particular type of opinion.)"
The response I read today goes like this:
"LisAway,
I think the church has been wrong before. Blacks and the priesthood and polygamy are what I think of. Blacks couldn't have the priesthood until 1978 because the church was "behind on the times." As for polygamy, the church had to give it up so it could become a state. I don't think God would command women to love live a life of jealousy and lonliness in polygamous marriages. At least, not the God I know. He(or she) loves women too you know."
I responded:
"JC,
I am absolutely sure that the god that you know (espcially if it's a woman!) did NOT command women to live the law of polygamy. Also, the God I know did not command women to live a life of jealousy and lonliness. Because, WHOA.
So it sounds like your answer to my question is that "the church" is wrong on this one, yet again. I guess my question in WHERE IS GOD in all this? And if your god is a woman, and you believe she is the god of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints then she must be very, very disappointed in the direction things have been going. And also, sorely disappointed that Joseph Smith saw her and then told everyone she was a man and made everyone call her Father for all these years.
I'm sorry, this is just so sad to me. YOUR FATHER LOVES YOU. Find out whether this is His church and whether or not He leads it. And stop calling him a woman until you see him yourself. False doctrine of the most damaging kind."
Reading over that again, I can see that it isn't as loving as I think I meant it. I'm just sad for that modern "Mormon" man.
I kind of feel like the term "Modern"these days is too often synonymous with "dysfunctional" or "confused".
I don't know. I guess the obvious answer for me is that this is a person sliding down the chute of apostacy, and there is no way that I can understand where he is coming from. But I just wish he could have helped me to understand some of the people I know who also hold what I would call "modern" views on some church doctrines or policy. I really want to understand those things better, even if I don't agree with the views.
I am a conservative and I believe that the church is actually lead by a real-life prophet who actually knows what God wants. But I still wish I could better understand the thinking behind those who don't exactly agree with me. Chances are, though, that I will never feel like I get a satisfactory answer. I hope it's not just because I am too proud or self-righteous.
I don't call it wrong. The site is meant to have contriubtors on various levels of spirituatlity and activity in the church and with a broad array of backgrounds and opinions. But it's hard for me to read sometimes. I just went back to see if one contributor had responded to my late-coming comment on his post. He hadn't but a fellow commenter had. However, instead of clearing things up for me, it made things harder for me to understand.
The original post is entitled On Reluctant Patriarchy where "Abraham" tells of his journey from thinking he understood the scriptures and knew all the answers, to the moment of his enlightenment, which leads him down a path that makes him happy but turns his wife into a self-repressing sexist that he wishes he could liberate. At least that's the general idea.
My original comment went like this:
"In regards to the women and the priesthood and/or more "power" within the church, I am always very curious how more liberal people view this. Is it something that God is just behind the times on, or is it something that he is anxiously pestering the prophet to change, but the prophet is too conservative to listen or does God just want us to forget revelation and take a vote a la the Nicean Council (but, again, the prophet is unwilling to relinquish his power)? How does that work, the whole, "'The church'is wrong on this major doctrinal issue" thing?"
Followed by this:
"(That's a real question, not just a sass. I do respect other's opinions, and I just want to understand the thinking behind this particular type of opinion.)"
The response I read today goes like this:
"LisAway,
I think the church has been wrong before. Blacks and the priesthood and polygamy are what I think of. Blacks couldn't have the priesthood until 1978 because the church was "behind on the times." As for polygamy, the church had to give it up so it could become a state. I don't think God would command women to love live a life of jealousy and lonliness in polygamous marriages. At least, not the God I know. He(or she) loves women too you know."
I responded:
"JC,
I am absolutely sure that the god that you know (espcially if it's a woman!) did NOT command women to live the law of polygamy. Also, the God I know did not command women to live a life of jealousy and lonliness. Because, WHOA.
So it sounds like your answer to my question is that "the church" is wrong on this one, yet again. I guess my question in WHERE IS GOD in all this? And if your god is a woman, and you believe she is the god of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints then she must be very, very disappointed in the direction things have been going. And also, sorely disappointed that Joseph Smith saw her and then told everyone she was a man and made everyone call her Father for all these years.
I'm sorry, this is just so sad to me. YOUR FATHER LOVES YOU. Find out whether this is His church and whether or not He leads it. And stop calling him a woman until you see him yourself. False doctrine of the most damaging kind."
Reading over that again, I can see that it isn't as loving as I think I meant it. I'm just sad for that modern "Mormon" man.
I kind of feel like the term "Modern"these days is too often synonymous with "dysfunctional" or "confused".
I don't know. I guess the obvious answer for me is that this is a person sliding down the chute of apostacy, and there is no way that I can understand where he is coming from. But I just wish he could have helped me to understand some of the people I know who also hold what I would call "modern" views on some church doctrines or policy. I really want to understand those things better, even if I don't agree with the views.
I am a conservative and I believe that the church is actually lead by a real-life prophet who actually knows what God wants. But I still wish I could better understand the thinking behind those who don't exactly agree with me. Chances are, though, that I will never feel like I get a satisfactory answer. I hope it's not just because I am too proud or self-righteous.
Saturday, September 3, 2011
Letting Us Know
During my second semester at Ricks there was a new guy in my FHE group. He was a surfer from California and we had the instant Californian-in-Rexburg connection. He went out with a few girls, but he and I became good friends and started dating. We got along really well and had a ton of fun together.
He was majoring in Marine Biology. No, not at Ricks College. He'd left his other school to come to Ricks for one semester. Just one. You know, the Semester In Idaho all aspiring marine biologists take time out for.
He said he just knew he had to come. He knew that it was important for him. I didn't know exactly what it all meant. I'm sure at some point I hoped it had something (or everything) to do with me. I was, after all, an 18 year old girl in her first romantic relationship.
He had left a girlfriend at home, presumably with the understanding that their relationship was on hold for a few months. This, of course, was a little awkward for me, but it was his deal.
We only dated for a couple of months but started to get kind of serious. Just at the deciding point things suddenly started tapering off. By the time the school year ended, we said our goodbyes without ever having talked about what kind of goodbye it was to be.
Maybe a month later, during summer vacation in California, my very supportive friends drove with me down to his neck of the woods to attend a huge singles dance. I met him there. We hugged and had a dance. It was the closure I needed. I also met the girl he'd been dating and we exchanged sincere smiles anytime we caught each other's eye.
He and I never kept in touch after that. Just the other night, though, I found him on facebook*. I looked through his public photos and got a vague idea of what his life is like now. He's just as I remember him. In his family pictures I see him, his two sons and the girl I'd met at the dance.
This made me so happy. Like, totally-brightened-my-day happy. Not having found him, but having found out that he married her.
I thought back on that semester. It was an adventurous one. We had a lot of experiences that I can't forget, like the time he left to go home in the middle of Sacrament meeting because he wasn't feeling well, only to pass out in the hallway and end up in the ER for the 4th time in his few months there. And like the discussion we had late one night on a trip with a bunch of friends to a cabin in the mountains. I remember that when I wanted , and probably meant, to say something along the lines of "I'm madly in love with you!" I said something completely different.
The reason I'm writing this all out is because looking back, all the events of that semester make so much sense to me. Besides all the things I learned and the ways I grew, I was kind of witnessing, or even being part of one of the most important decisions of his life. That cold, winter semester really was important for that California kid, and seeing the picture of his family just confirmed for me that our Father does and will help us know what is right for us, so we don't have to wonder in the future, if we will just remember.
I love these confirmations. I've had loads of them come to me through the scriptures, through something someone says or the words to the song that's on the radio just when I start the car**. Most recently a confirmation came in the form of a rainbow. Literally. (which, of course makes a very important experience sound a little silly, but whatev.)
Taking a trip down memory lane was nice, but the nicest was being reminded of how much our Father loves his children and how willing he is to guide us in our lives. I'm so glad he guided me to where I am today and for all the little confirmations he's given me on my way down the road to this place. Not just Poland, but where I am in my life, the things I've achieved, the people who surround me and the experiences I am having. When things are hard, it only takes looking back and remembering, and His peace fills in the gaps of imperfection in circumstance or character that might otherwise allow doubts or fear to creep in. I'm so thankful for the happiness that fills my life because of it.
* I sent him a quick hello and hope that he doesn't think it was creepy and stalkerish. It wasn't. Especially since I've been on facebook for 4 years and only just now looked him up. I'm okay, right?
* Greg doesn't subscribe to the songs in the car thing, but I think it's only because he doesn't pay attention to words and therefore has never had the experience hearing the very sentence he needs to hear from a song.
He was majoring in Marine Biology. No, not at Ricks College. He'd left his other school to come to Ricks for one semester. Just one. You know, the Semester In Idaho all aspiring marine biologists take time out for.
He said he just knew he had to come. He knew that it was important for him. I didn't know exactly what it all meant. I'm sure at some point I hoped it had something (or everything) to do with me. I was, after all, an 18 year old girl in her first romantic relationship.
He had left a girlfriend at home, presumably with the understanding that their relationship was on hold for a few months. This, of course, was a little awkward for me, but it was his deal.
We only dated for a couple of months but started to get kind of serious. Just at the deciding point things suddenly started tapering off. By the time the school year ended, we said our goodbyes without ever having talked about what kind of goodbye it was to be.
Maybe a month later, during summer vacation in California, my very supportive friends drove with me down to his neck of the woods to attend a huge singles dance. I met him there. We hugged and had a dance. It was the closure I needed. I also met the girl he'd been dating and we exchanged sincere smiles anytime we caught each other's eye.
He and I never kept in touch after that. Just the other night, though, I found him on facebook*. I looked through his public photos and got a vague idea of what his life is like now. He's just as I remember him. In his family pictures I see him, his two sons and the girl I'd met at the dance.
This made me so happy. Like, totally-brightened-my-day happy. Not having found him, but having found out that he married her.
I thought back on that semester. It was an adventurous one. We had a lot of experiences that I can't forget, like the time he left to go home in the middle of Sacrament meeting because he wasn't feeling well, only to pass out in the hallway and end up in the ER for the 4th time in his few months there. And like the discussion we had late one night on a trip with a bunch of friends to a cabin in the mountains. I remember that when I wanted , and probably meant, to say something along the lines of "I'm madly in love with you!" I said something completely different.
The reason I'm writing this all out is because looking back, all the events of that semester make so much sense to me. Besides all the things I learned and the ways I grew, I was kind of witnessing, or even being part of one of the most important decisions of his life. That cold, winter semester really was important for that California kid, and seeing the picture of his family just confirmed for me that our Father does and will help us know what is right for us, so we don't have to wonder in the future, if we will just remember.
I love these confirmations. I've had loads of them come to me through the scriptures, through something someone says or the words to the song that's on the radio just when I start the car**. Most recently a confirmation came in the form of a rainbow. Literally. (which, of course makes a very important experience sound a little silly, but whatev.)
Taking a trip down memory lane was nice, but the nicest was being reminded of how much our Father loves his children and how willing he is to guide us in our lives. I'm so glad he guided me to where I am today and for all the little confirmations he's given me on my way down the road to this place. Not just Poland, but where I am in my life, the things I've achieved, the people who surround me and the experiences I am having. When things are hard, it only takes looking back and remembering, and His peace fills in the gaps of imperfection in circumstance or character that might otherwise allow doubts or fear to creep in. I'm so thankful for the happiness that fills my life because of it.
* I sent him a quick hello and hope that he doesn't think it was creepy and stalkerish. It wasn't. Especially since I've been on facebook for 4 years and only just now looked him up. I'm okay, right?
* Greg doesn't subscribe to the songs in the car thing, but I think it's only because he doesn't pay attention to words and therefore has never had the experience hearing the very sentence he needs to hear from a song.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Hidden Treasures
I'd like to "find wisdom and great treasures of knowledge, even hidden treasures". There's just something so appealing about that promise.
So I'm going to finally try to follow the Word of Wisdom, or its spirit. Moderation in all things. Or, not really. Moderation in some things and abstinence in others. So, for me, this is about complete forbearance. Adapted to the capacity of the weakest of all saints. (that's me)
In order to find that wisdom and those hidden treasures, I am going to reveal some hidden treasures of my own with my family:
The caramels are on the baking chocolate shelf,
the Oreos are in the school snack box and
the chocolate covered orange sticks are in the fridge.
I'm not gonna eat them anymore. Neither snack on them throughout the day when I should be eating fruit or yogurt, nor sneak nibbles here and there while making dinner. Or every time I enter the kitchen.
Because I desire wisdom.
And to stop this steady approach to the weight I told myself I wouldn't ever reach again. "No zeros before the decimal," I said. (We're a half a kilo away. Or maybe a whole kilo now, thanks to Fast Sunday.)
But mostly for the wisdom. That's a better treasure than having the figure I want. And I'm seriously NOT being sarcastic. But between keeping (my interpretation of one aspect of) the Word of Wisdom, Fast Sundays and the promise quoted at the beginning of the post, I'm going to be incredibly attractive in both mind AND body.
I can't wait.
So I'm going to finally try to follow the Word of Wisdom, or its spirit. Moderation in all things. Or, not really. Moderation in some things and abstinence in others. So, for me, this is about complete forbearance. Adapted to the capacity of the weakest of all saints. (that's me)
In order to find that wisdom and those hidden treasures, I am going to reveal some hidden treasures of my own with my family:
The caramels are on the baking chocolate shelf,
the Oreos are in the school snack box and
the chocolate covered orange sticks are in the fridge.
I'm not gonna eat them anymore. Neither snack on them throughout the day when I should be eating fruit or yogurt, nor sneak nibbles here and there while making dinner. Or every time I enter the kitchen.
Because I desire wisdom.
And to stop this steady approach to the weight I told myself I wouldn't ever reach again. "No zeros before the decimal," I said. (We're a half a kilo away. Or maybe a whole kilo now, thanks to Fast Sunday.)
But mostly for the wisdom. That's a better treasure than having the figure I want. And I'm seriously NOT being sarcastic. But between keeping (my interpretation of one aspect of) the Word of Wisdom, Fast Sundays and the promise quoted at the beginning of the post, I'm going to be incredibly attractive in both mind AND body.
I can't wait.
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Peculiar People
So you know how people in all ages have made a mockery of the prophets and their counsel? The same thing is happening today. I know this because of something David said at school that got his class laughing.
His (nosy) teacher for some reason was asking him in what situation Greg and I would leave him and his siblings home alone. David said, "For example when they go on a date."
After a brief pause his classmates erupted in giggles and his teacher looked confused. "Aren't your mom and dad married?"
I know a lot of the things the prophet counsels us to do seem silly or unnecessary or just plain absurd to many people today. Apparently for David's class, continuing courtship after marriage is one of those things. I am very happy to have had a part in providing such entertainment to those tittering nine year olds.
And after David assured his teacher that we were indeed married his teacher got over her surprise and told him, "Well then, you have cool parents."
Maybe she'll go home and ask her husband out on their first date in 20 years.
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
On Pornography (Again)
Another one of those posts that are for my personal record more than to share with the world at large.
A couple of months ago, at a random time on a random day I felt I should talk to Ev and Dave about pornography. We've talked about it before of course, but it seemed a good time to talk about it again.
I love having talks like this with my kids. These are the times when I can put into words some of the things that are not easily understood just by seeing an example. My kids know how we feel about pornography, nudity and immodesty (a subject I've gone into great detail about before here) and we obviously avoid it in all types of media, but for them to fully understand the why of it, we have to discuss.
I explained a little about avoiding pornography and how we should make decisions before we meet temptations so that we don't have to make an on-the-spot choice. If we already know that we're not going to look it'll be easier when a situation arises (and the spirit can help us keep resolutions we've already made).
While we talked I compared pornography to alcohol; the seeming harmlessness of it, it's addictive nature, the curiosity young people sometimes feel about it. We talked about how alcohol is bad for our bodies and can be physically dangerous in many ways, besides the possibility of losing a job or even breaking up a family. I compared this to how looking at pornography is bad for our spirits and repels the Holy Ghost (which we need in our lives).
I explained how Satan wants to do everything he can to keep people from following God's commandments and having happy families.
We had been talking for maybe 10 minutes or so; pretty long for this type of conversation, I felt. The kids threw things in now and again, mostly about alcohol and how their friends talk about it sometimes. Overall I felt like they were understanding what I wanted them to know. Then I said something and the reaction I got from David made me realize that, while he had heard what I was saying, he maybe didn't fully get it until that point.
I almost didn't want to say it because it made it sound like they might make such a choice, or that I was even throwing it out there as an option, but I said it anyway. "If I had to choose between you trying alcohol or looking at pornography I would rather you have alcohol," I said. David looked confused. He asked me to repeat. I did, and this time he was shocked.
Finally I found a way to really get the point across about how serious I think it is. I'm so glad he is so clear on how "taboo" alcohol is so he could really get the point about how important it is to avoid pornography. I hope that will stay with him.
I was very happy just a week or two later to hear President Packer's conference talk which, I felt, had a strong emphasis on pornography and how Satan uses it to damage, destroy and even prevent the building of families. I was so grateful to have a prophet's testimony borne so soon after I had shared my own on this important topic, the purpose of the commandment, blessings of keeping it and the miracle of the way back if it has been broken.
As a mother I really love helping the kids understand why they're supposed to do and not do certain things. I love that the gospel makes this so much easier. There's not a lot of "because God said so". Even when the world tries to make us think things are perfectly harmless, or even good which God says are not, it is easy to see past the world's view and through "eyes of faith" when the blessings that come from keeping commandments are so apparent.
A couple of months ago, at a random time on a random day I felt I should talk to Ev and Dave about pornography. We've talked about it before of course, but it seemed a good time to talk about it again.
I love having talks like this with my kids. These are the times when I can put into words some of the things that are not easily understood just by seeing an example. My kids know how we feel about pornography, nudity and immodesty (a subject I've gone into great detail about before here) and we obviously avoid it in all types of media, but for them to fully understand the why of it, we have to discuss.
I explained a little about avoiding pornography and how we should make decisions before we meet temptations so that we don't have to make an on-the-spot choice. If we already know that we're not going to look it'll be easier when a situation arises (and the spirit can help us keep resolutions we've already made).
While we talked I compared pornography to alcohol; the seeming harmlessness of it, it's addictive nature, the curiosity young people sometimes feel about it. We talked about how alcohol is bad for our bodies and can be physically dangerous in many ways, besides the possibility of losing a job or even breaking up a family. I compared this to how looking at pornography is bad for our spirits and repels the Holy Ghost (which we need in our lives).
I explained how Satan wants to do everything he can to keep people from following God's commandments and having happy families.
We had been talking for maybe 10 minutes or so; pretty long for this type of conversation, I felt. The kids threw things in now and again, mostly about alcohol and how their friends talk about it sometimes. Overall I felt like they were understanding what I wanted them to know. Then I said something and the reaction I got from David made me realize that, while he had heard what I was saying, he maybe didn't fully get it until that point.
I almost didn't want to say it because it made it sound like they might make such a choice, or that I was even throwing it out there as an option, but I said it anyway. "If I had to choose between you trying alcohol or looking at pornography I would rather you have alcohol," I said. David looked confused. He asked me to repeat. I did, and this time he was shocked.
Finally I found a way to really get the point across about how serious I think it is. I'm so glad he is so clear on how "taboo" alcohol is so he could really get the point about how important it is to avoid pornography. I hope that will stay with him.
I was very happy just a week or two later to hear President Packer's conference talk which, I felt, had a strong emphasis on pornography and how Satan uses it to damage, destroy and even prevent the building of families. I was so grateful to have a prophet's testimony borne so soon after I had shared my own on this important topic, the purpose of the commandment, blessings of keeping it and the miracle of the way back if it has been broken.
As a mother I really love helping the kids understand why they're supposed to do and not do certain things. I love that the gospel makes this so much easier. There's not a lot of "because God said so". Even when the world tries to make us think things are perfectly harmless, or even good which God says are not, it is easy to see past the world's view and through "eyes of faith" when the blessings that come from keeping commandments are so apparent.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Homely Comparisons
I think I learn something every time I go to someone else's house. I know we say we're not supposed to compare ourselves to others, but I think life would be flat and silly (maybe even pointless?) if we didn't. We're all different. That's what makes the world interesting and allows us to learn and grow.
When I go to someone else's house, of course I notice differences between theirs and mine. (not including decor. Most everyone has better/nicer/newer decor than we do. I don't compare there.) I might make mental, often hardly conscious observations like this:
Man, clean (uncluttered) surfaces everywhere!
Eeek. I'm sticking to the back of this dining chair!
What a great idea for a chore chart!
Wow, they're really teaching responsibility the way they have their kids care for their pet!
I hope that stack of books doesn't fall off the piano onto anyone's head.
I have to ask for this recipe!
I learn about things I could improve in my own home. I also learn about things I am doing well. I am reminded that the little things I neglect and don't notice anymore will be noticed by visitors to my own home (hello, piles of papers on the stairs!). It's pretty easy not to judge because our strengths and weaknesses are different and it is easy to recognize that. It's also pretty easy not to get down on myself because I do have strengths, and can work on my weaknesses.
In every house I learn something about how I think my own home should be.
And then I visit the house in which I learn everything about how my home should be.
I learn all of these things and do my best to make my own home a house of order, peace and love.
But more than what I learned through observation in that house, I learned through the spirit. I learned what I already know. What I have always known. What matters most to me. But somehow learning it again changes me.
I learn that my Father really, really loves me. I am his. That is amazing. He has big plans for me. I can be so much more than I have been. I have not been who I am. How did I forget who I am, even while I knew it?
How did I forget why on earth I'm here? Or rather why I'm here on Earth? I knew it. I did, and I was reminded and refocused over and over again, but even then, I didn't really get it all the way, I think.
In that house I learned how my home should be. And I learned how and what and who I should be. And why.
When I go to someone else's house, of course I notice differences between theirs and mine. (not including decor. Most everyone has better/nicer/newer decor than we do. I don't compare there.) I might make mental, often hardly conscious observations like this:
Man, clean (uncluttered) surfaces everywhere!
Eeek. I'm sticking to the back of this dining chair!
What a great idea for a chore chart!
Wow, they're really teaching responsibility the way they have their kids care for their pet!
I hope that stack of books doesn't fall off the piano onto anyone's head.
I have to ask for this recipe!
I learn about things I could improve in my own home. I also learn about things I am doing well. I am reminded that the little things I neglect and don't notice anymore will be noticed by visitors to my own home (hello, piles of papers on the stairs!). It's pretty easy not to judge because our strengths and weaknesses are different and it is easy to recognize that. It's also pretty easy not to get down on myself because I do have strengths, and can work on my weaknesses.
In every house I learn something about how I think my own home should be.
And then I visit the house in which I learn everything about how my home should be.
- The people working there are happy, helpful and calm. They work and seem to care only for the smooth, proper functioning of the house and the joy of those who are inside. They stand, not preoccupied or absorbed with any distraction, but very open, always looking for ways to help anyone that may have problems or who even just may want to chat for a moment.
- It is clean there. Very clean.
- There is a schedule. It is followed and everyone goes about their business knowing what to expect. Things get done; people do those things willingly.
- A spirit of service and love is felt everywhere.
I learn all of these things and do my best to make my own home a house of order, peace and love.
But more than what I learned through observation in that house, I learned through the spirit. I learned what I already know. What I have always known. What matters most to me. But somehow learning it again changes me.
I learn that my Father really, really loves me. I am his. That is amazing. He has big plans for me. I can be so much more than I have been. I have not been who I am. How did I forget who I am, even while I knew it?
How did I forget why on earth I'm here? Or rather why I'm here on Earth? I knew it. I did, and I was reminded and refocused over and over again, but even then, I didn't really get it all the way, I think.
In that house I learned how my home should be. And I learned how and what and who I should be. And why.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
In Heaven
I'm going to be in heaven this week.
What constitutes heaven?:
Each of those things alone is a little bit (or a lottle bit) of heaven, but the thing that will make it most heavenly is that we will be in the temple for hours on end for days in a row.
Heaven, I tell you.
What constitutes heaven?:
- Greg is not working for a full week and I get to be with him most of the time.
- I get a break from the three oldest kids for the week.
- We're traveling. I love road trips.
- We will spend the week in Germany.
Each of those things alone is a little bit (or a lottle bit) of heaven, but the thing that will make it most heavenly is that we will be in the temple for hours on end for days in a row.
Heaven, I tell you.
Sunday, October 31, 2010
Different Over Here, But Also The Same
It is 1 am. We just got home.
We went to church, went straight to a temple recommend interview and then came straight home. And here we are at 1 am.
I had my interview with my branch president after church at 12 pm, then we drove to meet a member of the mission presidency on his way home from visiting a distant branch to have our second interview, which took place around 7:30 pm.
We had our interviews in his car.
We drove 9 hours today, instead of the 4 we would have driven if we'd only gone to church.
We made a large triangle instead of just boring lines going to and from church.
Life is interesting in Poland.
I had the privilege of giving my favorite answers to my favorite questions on the most important subjects to the Lord's representative.
I love saying yes.
(well, and no, but it's the yeses that make me teary. The nos are a formality.)
It's as awesome saying yes when you drive 5 hours out of your way to do it as it is when you wait for a half an hour in your own chapel.
It's as meaningful to hear those questions and say those yeses in a car as it is in an office.
This was a hallowed e'en.
I am going to bed.
We went to church, went straight to a temple recommend interview and then came straight home. And here we are at 1 am.
I had my interview with my branch president after church at 12 pm, then we drove to meet a member of the mission presidency on his way home from visiting a distant branch to have our second interview, which took place around 7:30 pm.
We had our interviews in his car.
We drove 9 hours today, instead of the 4 we would have driven if we'd only gone to church.
We made a large triangle instead of just boring lines going to and from church.
Life is interesting in Poland.
I had the privilege of giving my favorite answers to my favorite questions on the most important subjects to the Lord's representative.
I love saying yes.
(well, and no, but it's the yeses that make me teary. The nos are a formality.)
It's as awesome saying yes when you drive 5 hours out of your way to do it as it is when you wait for a half an hour in your own chapel.
It's as meaningful to hear those questions and say those yeses in a car as it is in an office.
This was a hallowed e'en.
I am going to bed.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
What My Kids Learn in Primary
Today we attended the Kielce Branch. It meets in the missionaries' apartment. Sacrament meeting and Sunday school meet in one room and we usually have Primary in the living room. Today, though, they were watching a conference talk in the living room so I taught Primary in the other room. Here's how it went down.
Of course it was just me and my own kids. It was time to feed Spencer so I was nursing him while we had a lesson about prayer. Aaron was sitting there very nice and attentive during the opening song and prayer. Before I got into the lesson I decided to help him feel included by having us sing Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam. At that point he became very offended and got out of his seat and was generally an enormous pain (because how dare I suggest we sing a song he knows and likes!?!).
Spencer wasn't eating peacefully. Off, on, off, on. Smile at mom, sit up. On, off. Ugh. Ugh. Meanwhile I was having a discussion with Ev and David that I felt was very important. And Aaron was telling us how he hates apple juice (meaning we didn't have any and he wanted some) and whining. And I was trying to not lose my temper with him while also trying to keep our discussion going and getting Spencer to take more than one gulp at a time before coming off.
While this was going on Evie and David had answered my question as to why we pray. I repeated their answers. "To give thanks for our blessings, ask for other blessings and to talk to our Father. Good. Okay, what are some other reasons we pray?"
After a very short pause I backed up and said, "Well, that's good enough. Those are the most important reasons we pray."
Before I could move on to the next question Evie said, "Okaaaaaay. What are the less important reasons?"
And then we laughed. And I was glad. I was in desperate need of some comic relief.
Of course it was just me and my own kids. It was time to feed Spencer so I was nursing him while we had a lesson about prayer. Aaron was sitting there very nice and attentive during the opening song and prayer. Before I got into the lesson I decided to help him feel included by having us sing Jesus Wants Me for a Sunbeam. At that point he became very offended and got out of his seat and was generally an enormous pain (because how dare I suggest we sing a song he knows and likes!?!).
Spencer wasn't eating peacefully. Off, on, off, on. Smile at mom, sit up. On, off. Ugh. Ugh. Meanwhile I was having a discussion with Ev and David that I felt was very important. And Aaron was telling us how he hates apple juice (meaning we didn't have any and he wanted some) and whining. And I was trying to not lose my temper with him while also trying to keep our discussion going and getting Spencer to take more than one gulp at a time before coming off.
While this was going on Evie and David had answered my question as to why we pray. I repeated their answers. "To give thanks for our blessings, ask for other blessings and to talk to our Father. Good. Okay, what are some other reasons we pray?"
After a very short pause I backed up and said, "Well, that's good enough. Those are the most important reasons we pray."
Before I could move on to the next question Evie said, "Okaaaaaay. What are the less important reasons?"
And then we laughed. And I was glad. I was in desperate need of some comic relief.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
A Father and His Kids (Sunday Edition)
Ewelina:
There is a tradition among Polish kids that they take a little journal to school and have their classmates sign it or draw in it or write little poems. It's not at the end of the year or anything, just any old time. Evie asked me and Greg to write in hers and here is what Greg wrote for her:
Dawno, dawno temu, za wieloma górami
Mieszkało w niebie dziewczę z braćmi i siostrami.
Jej Ojciec był bogiem - nic więc dziwnego, że chciał
Dać wszystko swej córce - nawet wszystko to, co miał.
Stworzył więc ziemię piękna, dla drogiej swej córy
A na niej morza, lądy i skaliste góry.
A w górach tamtych leży Szczęśliwa Dolinka;
I tam właśnie przyszła na ten świat Ewelinka.
I odkąd tu żyje - nie przestaje się uczyć
Pomagać, pracować, przebaczać oraz służyć
Zło od dobra odróżniać i zawsze się starać
Wybierać to, co dobre a co złe obalać.
Bo wie i też rozumie, że sprawa to słuszna,
Gdy Boga nie widać - nadal jest mu posłuszna.
I tak dziewczynka ta i wszystkie Boga dzieci
Powrócą kiedyś do tego, który dał im życie.
I tam żyć będą z Bogiem - wesołe i szczęśliwe
Bo podczas tej próby wybrali, co właściwe.
I can't translate the poetry of it (which I love), but I can sort of capture the content (the author was unavailable to help me translate).
Long, long ago and far, far away,
A girl lived in heaven with her brothers and sisters.
Her Father was God, so it's no surprise that he wanted
To give his daughter everything, even all that he had.
So he created a beautiful world for his dear daughter
And placed on it seas, lands and rocky mountains.
In those very mountains there lies a Happy Valley
And that is where he sent Ewelina into the world.
And as long as she lives here she will never stop learning
To help, to work, to forgive and to serve;
Distinguish good from evil and always try
To choose what is good and avoid evil.
Because she knows and understands that it's right
That although she can't see God, she still obey Him.
And that's how this little girl and all of God's children
Will return one day to the One who gave them life.
And there they will live with God - happy and joyful
Because during this life, they chose what was right.
(signed "Earthly Father")
David:
One Sunday when we weren't able to go to church Greg asked everyone to bring in their Book of Mormon* so we could do some scripture study. David said, "I don't know where mine is."
Greg replied in a mock angry voice, "See David! That's the difference between you and Joseph Smith. He found the Book of Mormon and YOU lost it!"
Aaron:
A few Sundays ago Greg put Music and the Spoken Word on the computer for us to listen to in the background while we all went about our business. I was in the kitchen, the kids were drawing or something but this is what Aaron was doing:
.jpg)
Notice the straight back. He sat this way through the whole program and would not let us talk to him or even kiss him on the cheek. He is very serious about his Sabbath day observance.
*I will not spark controversy by inserting an "s" to pluralize "Book of Mormon". I personally consider it a title and put the s after Mormon, but you're welcome to put it after Book in your mind if you so desire.
There is a tradition among Polish kids that they take a little journal to school and have their classmates sign it or draw in it or write little poems. It's not at the end of the year or anything, just any old time. Evie asked me and Greg to write in hers and here is what Greg wrote for her:
Dawno, dawno temu, za wieloma górami
Mieszkało w niebie dziewczę z braćmi i siostrami.
Jej Ojciec był bogiem - nic więc dziwnego, że chciał
Dać wszystko swej córce - nawet wszystko to, co miał.
Stworzył więc ziemię piękna, dla drogiej swej córy
A na niej morza, lądy i skaliste góry.
A w górach tamtych leży Szczęśliwa Dolinka;
I tam właśnie przyszła na ten świat Ewelinka.
I odkąd tu żyje - nie przestaje się uczyć
Pomagać, pracować, przebaczać oraz służyć
Zło od dobra odróżniać i zawsze się starać
Wybierać to, co dobre a co złe obalać.
Bo wie i też rozumie, że sprawa to słuszna,
Gdy Boga nie widać - nadal jest mu posłuszna.
I tak dziewczynka ta i wszystkie Boga dzieci
Powrócą kiedyś do tego, który dał im życie.
I tam żyć będą z Bogiem - wesołe i szczęśliwe
Bo podczas tej próby wybrali, co właściwe.
I can't translate the poetry of it (which I love), but I can sort of capture the content (the author was unavailable to help me translate).
Long, long ago and far, far away,
A girl lived in heaven with her brothers and sisters.
Her Father was God, so it's no surprise that he wanted
To give his daughter everything, even all that he had.
So he created a beautiful world for his dear daughter
And placed on it seas, lands and rocky mountains.
In those very mountains there lies a Happy Valley
And that is where he sent Ewelina into the world.
And as long as she lives here she will never stop learning
To help, to work, to forgive and to serve;
Distinguish good from evil and always try
To choose what is good and avoid evil.
Because she knows and understands that it's right
That although she can't see God, she still obey Him.
And that's how this little girl and all of God's children
Will return one day to the One who gave them life.
And there they will live with God - happy and joyful
Because during this life, they chose what was right.
(signed "Earthly Father")
David:
One Sunday when we weren't able to go to church Greg asked everyone to bring in their Book of Mormon* so we could do some scripture study. David said, "I don't know where mine is."
Greg replied in a mock angry voice, "See David! That's the difference between you and Joseph Smith. He found the Book of Mormon and YOU lost it!"
Aaron:
A few Sundays ago Greg put Music and the Spoken Word on the computer for us to listen to in the background while we all went about our business. I was in the kitchen, the kids were drawing or something but this is what Aaron was doing:
.jpg)
Notice the straight back. He sat this way through the whole program and would not let us talk to him or even kiss him on the cheek. He is very serious about his Sabbath day observance.*I will not spark controversy by inserting an "s" to pluralize "Book of Mormon". I personally consider it a title and put the s after Mormon, but you're welcome to put it after Book in your mind if you so desire.
Sunday, February 28, 2010
Answered
I woke up at 4:30 to give Spencer his once-nightly feeding (very nice baby). As I had suspected it would, this feeding perfectly coincided with when Greg had to wake up to get ready for his 4 hour drive to Warsaw for a church correlation meeting.
As I sat in bed nursing the baby, listening to the water run as Greg showered in the bathroom next door I started thinking my usual thoughts when he has a lot of driving to do on not enough sleep: "I hope he'll stay awake okay. I hope he'll pull over for a nap if he gets tired." etc. etc.
From there I started thinking about what if something happened to him. Just technical, unemotional things like how would the police know to contact us. What is the protocol. I began to feel that this was a kind of dangerous trip. Greg does tons of driving and is very responsible about being smart and not driving when he's tired, but I felt rather worried.
I decided to stop myself from worrying and pray. I prayed earnestly, certainly more sincerely than I ever have about safety during travel. I reflected on how I need to always be doing my best to be worthy of important blessings I may need to ask for, in order to have the confidence and faith to have my prayers answered.
Greg came into the darkened room, kissed me and the baby good-bye and headed off.
Four hours later he called. He had arrived at the chapel safe and sound. Prayer answered. Then he explained exactly how that prayer (which he wasn't aware I had offered) had been answered.
At one point during the drive Greg's mind wandered, causing him to miss his turn off. Fortunately he noticed it right away and got back on track, losing only a minute or two. Later on in the trip his own premonition from reflections he'd had earlier in the drive lead him to recognize the men on the side of the road waving through the thick fog for what it was: a warning to slow down because of an accident ahead. The road was extremely slippery and visibility was very poor but he was able to stop within inches (or possibly inch) of the car in front of him, which had stopped right behind an overturned car in the road. That accident had happened approximately one or two minutes before he got there.
Heavenly Father loves me, and I love him, too.
As I sat in bed nursing the baby, listening to the water run as Greg showered in the bathroom next door I started thinking my usual thoughts when he has a lot of driving to do on not enough sleep: "I hope he'll stay awake okay. I hope he'll pull over for a nap if he gets tired." etc. etc.
From there I started thinking about what if something happened to him. Just technical, unemotional things like how would the police know to contact us. What is the protocol. I began to feel that this was a kind of dangerous trip. Greg does tons of driving and is very responsible about being smart and not driving when he's tired, but I felt rather worried.
I decided to stop myself from worrying and pray. I prayed earnestly, certainly more sincerely than I ever have about safety during travel. I reflected on how I need to always be doing my best to be worthy of important blessings I may need to ask for, in order to have the confidence and faith to have my prayers answered.
Greg came into the darkened room, kissed me and the baby good-bye and headed off.
Four hours later he called. He had arrived at the chapel safe and sound. Prayer answered. Then he explained exactly how that prayer (which he wasn't aware I had offered) had been answered.
At one point during the drive Greg's mind wandered, causing him to miss his turn off. Fortunately he noticed it right away and got back on track, losing only a minute or two. Later on in the trip his own premonition from reflections he'd had earlier in the drive lead him to recognize the men on the side of the road waving through the thick fog for what it was: a warning to slow down because of an accident ahead. The road was extremely slippery and visibility was very poor but he was able to stop within inches (or possibly inch) of the car in front of him, which had stopped right behind an overturned car in the road. That accident had happened approximately one or two minutes before he got there.
Heavenly Father loves me, and I love him, too.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Hope
We have only been to the temple three times since we moved to Poland nine years ago (besides once or twice during visits in the states). I find this to be sort of sad, but considering what it means to "go to the temple" in Poland:
Drive or ride about 12 hours each way to Freiberg, Germany; stay for 4 nights in the temple"hotel", taking its underground tunnel to the temple at 7am every morning and going through session after session -- four per day (including an evening session) -- for four or five days in a row.
and what our life has been like in those nine years:
over two full years of pregnancy, 2+ years of nursing infants, years of kids in school and lots of "life"
I think three is an okay number. Actually, let's put it this way, we maybe attended fifty or so sessions, over the course of nine years, at a temple that's 12 hours away. That sounds a little better. :)
Our last visit was three years ago. That time we became temple workers. This meant spending hours learning exactly what that entails, what to say and do (in both Polish and English) attending super early prayer meetings, and getting to know the temple presidency and temple missionaries rather well.
Unfortunately, when we first arrived at the temple and before we were asked to be temple workers I realized that my back was wrong as it sometimes is for weeks at a time. This would make the whole week difficult. I determined to try to attend a session or two each day, if I was able and rest the rest of the time. Then we got the calling. I explained my dilemma and, after our meeting with the temple counselor and his wife (the pres. was out of town this week), he and Greg gave me a blessing that I would be able to work. So I did.
Okay, that was a very long lead in to my point:
I had the chance to rub shoulders with some wonderful missionary couples. I know that being in the temple is an uplifting experience in general, but spending so much time (and there's quite a bit of standing around time for temple workers) with those people was really and truly wonderful .
Those mature women were such an enormous pleasure to talk to. They were smart. They were fun. They were warm. They were wise. They were extremely sympathetic, seeming to be intensely interested in every minute detail of my back issues, family, hobbies and everything I might possibly enjoy talking about. I came away feeling like I was an interesting and good person (who isn't interesting while talking about their back problems, really?) And not like I had hogged the conversation, either, somehow.
I came away from nearly every conversation thinking, "I wish I could, I HOPE I will be like that one day. I would just give anything to be like that. To make people feel like that, just by being who I am."
Currently, though, I am NOT like that (at all). I am starting to realize that it's not exactly the time for me to be like that. I need to be much better about being less oblivious of others and their needs, but it's also okay that I focus mostly on my family right now. So I'm sort of okay about it.
But then I worry that I am just too selfish in general. I am not the kind of warm and caring person I'd like to be by nature. I'm too tied up in me. BUT. . .
I am starting to realize that the experiences I'm having now that require me to be tied up more in myself and my family than I'd sometimes like to be are the very experiences that might make me that more mature woman that I want to be some day.
I've been thinking about this more than usual in recent weeks.
I really hope and believe that these last few months are part of that training. Other women have the same experiences I've been having. I think, I HOPE I will be more understanding and sympathetic to them as I learn to untie myself from me over the years.
I know the reward for what I'm going through these months is the baby that will be mine forever. That is enough. But it doesn't stop me from hoping that I'll also be rewarded by getting a little closer to becoming who I want to be, too.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Grace
A few days ago I gathered the makings of that Easter egg resurrection lesson. This is the first year I'm doing it with the kids (they've never seen it at church before, of course). I felt really strange and sad while collecting nails and making a little cross and writing out a miniature "King of the Jews" sign.
I remember when I was younger always feeling grateful for what Christ did for me, but I also remember wondering why it was such a big deal. I mean the dying for us. I thought, probably a lot of people would be willing to die to save everyone else. Even suffering a painful and prolonged death. Many people have died for family and country or what they believe.
I don't think it was very long after having those thoughts that I remembered the atonement. There's something no one else every could or would do.
I am so grateful for Christ's sacrifice for me. I am grateful for his death which brought resurrection and immortality and for his atonement which gives me a shot at eternal life.
A CD arrived unexpectedly in our mailbox before we left for Greg's parent's house for the Easter break. We've been listening to it a lot and one of the hymns on it is a favorite of mine "Come Thou Fount Of Every Blessing". I love the lyrics (I can't hear or think of the refrain without getting teary) and I love the melody. The last verse captures just how I feel, especially at this time of year, so I will write it here.
O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, as a fetter,
Bind my wand'ring heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.
I am so grateful for Christ's sacrifice for me. I am grateful for his death which brought resurrection and immortality and for his atonement which gives me a shot at eternal life.
A CD arrived unexpectedly in our mailbox before we left for Greg's parent's house for the Easter break. We've been listening to it a lot and one of the hymns on it is a favorite of mine "Come Thou Fount Of Every Blessing". I love the lyrics (I can't hear or think of the refrain without getting teary) and I love the melody. The last verse captures just how I feel, especially at this time of year, so I will write it here.
O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, as a fetter,
Bind my wand'ring heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.
Sorry this post is diconjointed and incomplete. I wrote half at home and half here at Greg's parent's house.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Thoughts on Shouting
This is sort of a journal type entry written for my own benefit but you can read it if you feel so inclined.
My kids are relatively well behaved. They never (I may be jinxing myself here) write on walls or rip pages out of books. They don't climb the curtains (and this isn't only because we don't have any. I'm sure they wouldn't if we did) or hit other kids at school. They're tame. They're good. I believe there are three likely reasons for this: 1) they are calm kids by nature 2) I'm a stickler for not letting them do anything I don't want them to from the very first time they try and 3) We are only given what we can handle and I could not handle hyper kids. I love watching those parenting shows. Little Angels, Tanya Byron's House of Tiny Taraways, Supernanny etc. It's so surprising to see what some kids get away with. I love cheering the mother on when she's following the counselors advice. I love seeing the change that comes over the entire family when the parents learn what behavior of their own they need to change in order to change their children's. I love that I can always anticipate what advice they will be given because it's very logical to me (and maybe because it's what I studied in school).
But I see those mothers, too. The desperate single mother who's convinced that her four year old wants nothing more than to rile her up all day every day. While following a new bedtime routine she takes her son back to his bed 30 times saying calmly, "Good night" as she walks out the door over and over and over. And then he whines one more time and she goes into his room and throws off his blanket and screams in his face "WHAT DO YOU WANT!?! JUST GO. TO. SLEEP!!!" Very, very loudly.
I'm thinking, am I so supposed to be shocked that a mother would do that? I feel so much empathy for this poor mother. And I have screamed in my own kid's faces before. I mean screamed. And I've never even had bedtime issues. And I know all those tricks you use to get good behavior. And my kids are generally good.
They're not perfect, though. And I'm even less so. Lately I have felt awful that I yell at my kids so much. It is often almost my first reaction when they do something wrong or whine about something silly.
Last Friday I had an awful migraine. Or it might have been my blood sugar. I had a terrible headache, I was nauseated and lightheaded, shaky and I just felt like bawling. Greg was at a business dinner and David was whining about everything. And I mean everything. He would not do what I asked and I was just waaaaay past my limit and I went up to him and I held his shoulders and screamed in his face.
Of course I felt terrible about this later. Terrible. Even though I knew I wasn't being myself, I realize that I just shout at the kids all the time. Pretty much daily. Some days are worse than others.
On the drive to church on Sunday Greg had recorded a lecture from some Perry Symposium (or something) in which the speaker talked about the omission of the "without a cause" from after the "He that is angry with his brother." The talk was compelling. I mean, I know that we know that the "without a cause" was an addition to the original text, but it was fascinating to hear about the various versions and how and why it was added etc.
The talk was very academic. There was very little talk of the gospel or any sort of sentiment in the telling. But it was very striking. After an hour long speech, he ended with evidence that we are not meant to be angry (including a rebuttal to the common "What about Jesus and the money changers in the temple" argument.) His closing paragraph was a short. I don't even remember what he said. I just remember feeling that there was no room in my home or life for shouting. I knew it about anger in general, but I felt it about shouting in specific.
As if I didn't know that before! Duh! As if I didn't feel bad any time I yelled at the kids. As if I didn't pray to be a more patient mother all the time. But this was just one of those moments of change.
This week I didn't yell at my kids. Well, I started to maybe 4 times. I would ask them to do something and they wouldn't do it a few times in a row, then I'd ask them one more time a few minutes later and whining would ensue (this is what makes me mad. They should be apologizing for not doing it earlier, not whining that I was going finally force them to do it!) I would start in with the stupid, "I've asked you to do this 4 times. . ." in a raised voice, totally ready to be MAD. Then I stopped myself and said, "Okay, I'm not going to yell. . ." and magically I didn't feel mad at ALL! And the kids smiled! And happily did what I asked (sort of).
So I feel like I just was not angry with my kids this week. We even had FHE about anger and specifically shouting. We've all decided that it doesn't belong in our home. Aaron had just recently started yelling "NOOOOOO" very loudly when he didn't get his way, and I know he learned it from all of us (the kids yelled at each other a lot, too). I really hope we can completely reverse this.
It's working so far, and I'm feeling really good about it. It feels so nice to have control over myself. I feel like I'm finally starting to set a good example for my kids. Finally.
Sunday, March 1, 2009
The List
This post is not going to be about The List by Melanie Jacobson, in case my title got you all excited. Sorry about that.
When Anne, my 13 months-older-than-me-sister and I were young teenagers, we were always in the same Sunday School class for a year before she moved to the next class up and I stayed behind until we joined up again the next year. We were a great little team of sassy but reverent, blonde know-it-alls. We had our own clever answers to the teachers questions. One of these (and, fine, the only one I can remember and possibly the only one we had) was really the answer to pretty much every question. We would just answer by saying, "The List."
The List goes something like this (mine and Anne's; not Melanie's):
Read the scriptures
Say personal prayers
Keep the commandments
Go to church
Pay tithing
etc.
etc.
Last weekend we had a District Conference. The mission president's wife asked me if I'd like to give a five minute testimony during the sister's meeting. I said yes. I was thinking, "Five minutes is pretty long, I'd better come up with a theme or something for my testimony." I thought about it and tried to figure out how to be in tune with the Spirit, but didn't have any big revelation or anything. While drying my hair that morning I thought that maybe I would just talk about "The List" (mine and Anne's; not Melanie's) How boring and generic, I thought. But also how exceedingly important. I asked Greg how you would say "smart-alecks" in the plural feminine (I know the word, of course, (I'm a mother), but am not in the habit of putting it in the plural feminine) Evie helped me with this too.
During the women's meeting first the visiting authority's awesome wife spoke. I was busy with kids for her talk and much of the rest of the meeting and so I missed quite a lot of it, but things calmed down toward the end and I was able to listen to the end of the mission president's wife's talk. She was talking about the basic things that bring us closer to our Father, reading our scriptures, daily prayer etc. I was thinking, "Hey! Will you listen to that!" Then at the end she added her testimony to the visiting authority's wife about how important it is for us, among other things, to be doing those basic things. She ended and it was my turn.
We were all seated in a huge circle and it was so nice to look around at everyone while I spoke. (and to have Aaron run to me across the length of the circle , or its diameter or whatever, exactly at the moment I mentioned how much I love my kids/being a mom) I talked about the list and how, even though my sister and I were being slightly sassy when we answered with it, it did give us an idea of just how important those things really are. I said that over the years I have really learned by experience how much happier my life is and how much better things work out when I am keeping up with the things on that list, and that I know that they really are of the utmost importance. And I said that I know for sure that this is the message that Heavenly Father had for this room full of his daughters, and that it meant that it is the time to reevaluate how we're doing on those things.
Evie's face was lit up the whole time. She was smiling at me and nodding every now and again. I've never seen her so attentive. As I walked back to my seat by her she jumped up and gave me a hug (just like in the movies, except that we're not really like that. This was actually very spontaneous). I think when she heard me mention about Anne and me being smart alecks she realized that I really had been planning to speak about the same thing the other women had spoken about and it was a sort of spiritual experience for her.
So why am I telling you this? Because I wanted to tell you about the list and then I kept typing and typing. So there you have it.
P.S. Melanie's The List isn't actually a book yet. It's still in it's manuscriptory stage. But it will be a book. Oh yes, it will be. :)
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Up Lifting
I need, for myself, to write about something that is very good and that I am most grateful for in my life. I feel like, at this moment, I'm being swallowed by fear and failure, hopelessness and frailty. But there is so much good in my life.
Long ago, I went on a trip with some friends. When we returned home I wished, overall, that I hadn't gone. Still, I have realized, starting then, and in the years since, that I was supposed to go, if only for this one incident that has affected my life since then.
Four of us went for a hike. I don't remember the name of the place we went, and I won't disclose the location, but at some point we were walking along a ravine. We were looking for a way to get down in it so we could walk along the beautiful river that flowed through it. It was rocky and steep. The rocks were a deep red, similar to those I had climbed on so many times as a child on camping trips to Red Cliffs, in Southern Utah.
We all started on our way down, each choosing a different path we thought would suit us. I found a place that almost looked like stairs going down. Very steep stairs. I thought, if I went down facing the rock, it shouldn't be too hard to just step down. As I was deciding if this was really the way down for me, I looked over and saw the teenage boy that was with us making his way down. His way looked way too tricky for me. I could see all the muscles standing out of his slender, toned body as he worked his way down the rock. Um, my muscles didn't look like that. Really, my muscles didn't look at all, as in they were hidden, rarely used, and certainly never seen. That was definitely not the way for me. Mine was just right, and it was only really maybe 20-25 feet down. I'd be down in a flash.
Long ago, I went on a trip with some friends. When we returned home I wished, overall, that I hadn't gone. Still, I have realized, starting then, and in the years since, that I was supposed to go, if only for this one incident that has affected my life since then.
Four of us went for a hike. I don't remember the name of the place we went, and I won't disclose the location, but at some point we were walking along a ravine. We were looking for a way to get down in it so we could walk along the beautiful river that flowed through it. It was rocky and steep. The rocks were a deep red, similar to those I had climbed on so many times as a child on camping trips to Red Cliffs, in Southern Utah.
We all started on our way down, each choosing a different path we thought would suit us. I found a place that almost looked like stairs going down. Very steep stairs. I thought, if I went down facing the rock, it shouldn't be too hard to just step down. As I was deciding if this was really the way down for me, I looked over and saw the teenage boy that was with us making his way down. His way looked way too tricky for me. I could see all the muscles standing out of his slender, toned body as he worked his way down the rock. Um, my muscles didn't look like that. Really, my muscles didn't look at all, as in they were hidden, rarely used, and certainly never seen. That was definitely not the way for me. Mine was just right, and it was only really maybe 20-25 feet down. I'd be down in a flash.
I crouched down and put my hands on the tops of the rocks where there was enough soil for a few tiny weeds to grow. I cursed myself for not having cut my fingernails for the fifth time that day. They were getting dirty and gross and making it hard to hold on to rocks. I stepped down onto what was my first "step". It was kind of far down, and harder to get onto than I'd expected but I had both of my feet on it at last, and I was ready to think about moving down to the next step. I could hear the others making their way down as I stood there contemplating my next move.
Really, I felt sort of stuck. I realized that there was no way for me to get down to the next step, as the one I was on was too small for me to be able to crouch down again. Plus, I need to be holding on all the time. As I stood there trying to figure out what to do, my feet started slipping. The rock I was standing on was situated on a little too much of an incline. I held faster to the soil my hands were resting on, but I needed rock to hold, and there was none in the right place. My feet kept slipping. I knew that I couldn't lift either of them to bring them higher up or I would surely fall down.
I dug my fingers into the dirt. I searched everywhere for any weed growing within reach that might be large enough to offer me enough support so that I could fix my footing. There were none. I grabbed a handful of the tiny ones that were there, hoping that together their roots might help hold me a little bit. They ripped out (of course).
About this time I called to my friend to come quickly and help me. I was frantic. I dug my fingers into the earth as deeply as I could. I continued to slip. I felt that if I had cut my fingernails before this hiking trip, I would already have fallen. My claws are what were keeping me from going over. But I was still slipping and I could feel my hands were starting to tear the soil as the rest of my body started following my feet. "Okay. Here I go," I thought, as I realized I had nothing, and I was going down. Right now. . .
Really, I felt sort of stuck. I realized that there was no way for me to get down to the next step, as the one I was on was too small for me to be able to crouch down again. Plus, I need to be holding on all the time. As I stood there trying to figure out what to do, my feet started slipping. The rock I was standing on was situated on a little too much of an incline. I held faster to the soil my hands were resting on, but I needed rock to hold, and there was none in the right place. My feet kept slipping. I knew that I couldn't lift either of them to bring them higher up or I would surely fall down.
I dug my fingers into the dirt. I searched everywhere for any weed growing within reach that might be large enough to offer me enough support so that I could fix my footing. There were none. I grabbed a handful of the tiny ones that were there, hoping that together their roots might help hold me a little bit. They ripped out (of course).
About this time I called to my friend to come quickly and help me. I was frantic. I dug my fingers into the earth as deeply as I could. I continued to slip. I felt that if I had cut my fingernails before this hiking trip, I would already have fallen. My claws are what were keeping me from going over. But I was still slipping and I could feel my hands were starting to tear the soil as the rest of my body started following my feet. "Okay. Here I go," I thought, as I realized I had nothing, and I was going down. Right now. . .
Just then I saw my friend climbing quickly over the rocks above me. She jumped down by my hands, secured her feet and grabbed one of my hands. . 1-3 more seconds and I would have fallen on solid rock on my back,and would very likely have died. She started pulling at my hand until I was supported enough to give her my other hand. I resettled my feet in a more sure position and she pulled and I was up.
I was up on top again. As if nothing had happened. As if I hadn't almost died. And it had been so easy for her. I'm not sure the others realized how terrified I had been for my life right then. How utterly helpless I had stood there, losing my footing, trying to prepare myself to fall to my death, all resources completely exhausted, but one.
I have thought about this so many times. There was absolutely nothing I could have done to save myself. Nothing. But one hand from above me, and I was completely freed from all that panic, horror and fear.
This is exactly how grace works. We make wrong choices, struggle with weaknesses and sometimes cannot see our way out. We feel fear, helplessness and desperation. But there is always someone standing over us. He waits for us to ask Him to help us. And He always will. There is no need to fall. There is no need to fear that we will fall.
This works day to day. It also is how things will work in the end. Those going into heaven are supposed to be perfect. I'm not perfect. I can't be. I don't even know how. I can try, but I will fail, ultimately. There is absolutely nothing I can do to save myself. Nothing. But one hand from above me, and I will be completely freed from all insufficiency. I just have to ask.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)