Scrapping Anxiety

Anxiety gets the best of me a lot of days.  Even when it comes to the simplest and most mundane tasks like trimming scraps…I’ll come back to this.  I wanna talk about anxiety for a minute or two or five.

What is anxiety you ask?  To be honest, I can’t even accurately explain it.  It’s like nervousness on steroids sometimes.  Other times tho, it’s like sleeping till noon, taking a 4 hour nap and being in bed for the night before 8pm.  According to anxiety.org, “all anxiety-related disorders feature worry, nervousness, or fear that is ongoing, excessive, and has negative effects on a person’s ability to function.”

It affects everyone differently, but for me when my anxiety is out of control (like it currently is) I feel entirely overwhelmed.  I can’t start anything because everything needs started and so I don’t know where or how to start.  Being unable to start means I can’t finish either and then that causes more anxiety.  You don’t get it? Don’t worry, I don’t get it half the time either.

There are physical issues too…my heart races, my nerves are so shot I can’t eat without being nauseous, all I do is sleep or I can’t sleep at all, I fidget a lot and basically just feel like my entire being is more or less vibrating.

I’m sure you’re probably thinking okay but what in the hell does anxiety have to do with a box of trash…whelp don’t worry I’m about to tie it all together for you.

As a paper crafter, I have a huge box of scraps (see the photo above).  These scraps consist of the negative space after I make cuts with my Cameo3, left overs from projects I’ve made (like the remaining 12 x 8 sheet when I cut off a  just a 4 inch piece I needed for a project) and the like.  I’m confident that ALL paper crafters have a box or two like mine.  It’s also my understanding that sewers/quilters also have a box of fabric scraps usually too.

One of the things anxiety makes it hard for me to do is waste much (because you know what if I want or need it later).  I also live in an area where good quality paper is hard to come by, at least my favorite papers anyway. My scrap box, like most other things in my life right now, is stuffed to the brim…overflowing even.  I mean you can clearly see it definitely needs some attention.

So a couple of days ago I decided to just go ahead and start the process.  Gasp…that alone caused some added anxiety.  I mean what if trimming the entire box uses up all the blades I have left, how will I cut paper for future projects?  Until I’m working again there’s no room in my super tight budget for entertainment or hobbies so do I REALLY want to trim the scraps and risk not being able to make pretty paper things in the future?

Okay okay Faith…this is silly just start cutting…

I spent two or three hours the first day and then anxiety won and I had to quit.  I’m working very hard to follow through on things tho so I resumed the process the next day…this time I didn’t stop until the box was empty.  It took me at least 5 or 6 additional hours.

Trimming paper while watching Hulu doesn’t require much mental or physical exertion and I totally understand that.  The head-trips I go through because of anxiety are exhausting nonetheless tho. The whole emotional process it took to get the win wiped me out and I needed a nap to recover.

If you don’t have anxiety and a scrap box, you likely won’t understand.  I’ll take the W and hopefully the next time it’ll be easier.

 

 

 

20 is the new 43

I know I promised you a long involved update…I mean it’s been almost three years since I last updated this blog…this post though is not that one.

We’ve had an in-home counselor on the scene for months.  I’ll explain it all don’t worry but suffice it to say he gave me a homework assignment over this past weekend.  He has me doing 20 things I enjoy.  The struggle has been real and some of this is a bit of a reach but sometimes you just gotta start somewhere…baby steps I tell ya.

  1. Finally remembered this blog’s log-in information
  2. Create a goal/vision board for my planner
  3. Catch up with friends
  4. Quality time with Ella
  5. Eat yummy food
  6. Take pictures
  7. Edit said pictures
  8. Play Words with Friends
  9. Play Word Cookies
  10. Sing
  11. Drink Pipeline Punch
  12. Spent time with my grandbaby
  13. Read a book
  14. Plan (my planner is a planner/journal/scrapbook)
  15. Smile (I enjoy this a lot just don’t do much of it these days)
  16. Network and Marketing
  17. Watched a crafty video from one of my favorite people
  18. Read/Notated Be Ye Therefore Perfect…Eventually
  19. Blogged What Not To Say Day 2
  20. Designed What Not To Say Day 3

Some of these things aren’t yet complete on this list…time’s running out…better scram.

It’s been a while…

PHEW….it’s been years since I’ve spent some time with this blog.  Took me forever to remember the username and password too.

Now that I’ve remembered that information (I keep telling myself it’s time I get a pw journal made but I am in denial that my memory isn’t as sharp as it used to be), I’ll have a lengthy update soon.  A WHOLE LOT has happened in the last couple years…some good, some bad, some worse.

To be continued…

When enough is enough

Life is crazy.  Sometimes it’s crazy good.  Other times not.  2014 ended with a bang when I got engaged to the only man I’ve ever truly loved in November.  2015 started off with one when I married said man January 10th (if you’re reading my love story blog there will be some updates there too soon so watch for them).  Yes, you did read that right…I got engaged November 28th and was married January 10th.  No, I’m not pregnant, no I’m not dying, no there was no “urgency” to have such a short engagement other than it’s just kinda what we as LDS people do.  Not all of us but as a whole, long engagements aren’t our thing.

Combining two families is tough enough, but moving cross country 8 days after getting married makes that even tougher.  Toss in that you’re driving, that you don’t have a home and jobs waiting for you in the new location, that it’s on the opposite side of the country from most of the people you love and then sprinkle in the fact that the location is a totally and completely different culture than you’ve ever known or experienced (my Southern friends will back me up on this I’m sure) AND you’re driving out there with only the bare essentials (you know clothes, computers, cosmetics) and it’s even tougher.

Let’s also point out that we were moving to “his” family.  His Mom, his brothers, his nephews, his…

My experience with “in-laws” hasn’t been great.  I was never very close to my ex mother in law.  Honestly, we share a mutual detest of each other even now.  My ex sister in-law and I were never close either.  In fact, with one exception (love you Shamon), I don’t particularly care for any of my in-laws.

As a female, I’m hard wired to worry and I am extremely proficient at it.  What if his mom didn’t like me, what if his brothers didn’t like me, what if they didn’t like the kids?  What if the only reason they loved me is because I was his wife?  What if I had the same bad relationships with THESE in-laws I had with just about all the others.  What if Arkansas was the death of me because it is precisely 2281.29 from my baby sister/bestie’s house to mine and his family hated me?

My husband and I had countless conversations about it where he tried to reassure me that his people weren’t like “that”.  I friended his brother on Facebook and we began to chat and talk and get to know each other.  Baby brother seemed nice enough…maybe the others would be too.

We arrived at Mama’s house Friday January 23rd and it was honestly…hell.  We wound up sleeping on the floor, I got a text from my daughter while returning the rental car that was alarming and I spent that first night crying myself to sleep.  When my husband asked what I needed him to do to help, I begged him to take me home even though there was no longer a home to go home to back in the NW.  When he reminded me of that I resigned myself to what I was sure was going to be a long period of gray days despite how brightly the sun was shining.

Looking back on it now, that first night and all of its emotion was likely way more grief over the loss I was still feeling with having moved and exhaustion from the trip.  My husband immediately got to work fixing things though and the following afternoon (January 24th, 2015) we received keys to a home of our own.

Since getting our own spot, we see Mama and the boys at least once a week.  The first time we were there for dinner my daughter said a blessing and Mama tacked on a PS. Through her simple prayer thanking God for finally bringing all of her children to her at the same time (this is the first time ever that all four of her boys have lived local to her) and the tears that followed I discovered the purpose of my family being in Arkansas…we were there to answer her prayers period.  Amazing how knowing your purpose can sure change your attitude about things.  After wiping away her tears I hugged her and she whispered in my ear “thank you, I love you.”

Over the last three weeks I’ve had the opportunity to spend lots of time with Mama. Let me tell you something…I love my Mama!  She is without a doubt one of the most amazing women I have ever met or known of in the history of pretty much ever and as divine providence would have it (because I don’t believe in luck), she loves me just because she can.  The more time I spend with her the more time I wanna spend.

The story doesn’t end here though…

Upon our arrival, that same brother I was getting to know via phone and Facebook met us at McDonald’s and escorted us to Mama’s house.  When a situation there got hard for the kids he swooped them up and immediately commenced spoiling them and showing them off.  Already he was proud and when asked “who’s kids are those” his response was “my nieces and nephew.”  I was equally proud to claim his son too. Seriously Lil D stole my heart the second we met.  From inception and with one exception “these” in-laws were proving to be quite different.

Two weeks ago I got to meet one of my youngest nephews.  He is the sweetest, cutest, cuddliest baby EVER.  I also got to spend some time with his Dad finally.  He wasn’t around much our first weekend here because the baby was sick and in the hospital. This brother, who I lovingly now call Big Mike (and he even agrees he totally is), was just as great as the first one I had gotten to know.  In case you’re not counting…one great husband + 1 great Mama + 2 great brothers (the 3rd brother I could do without) + 2 adorable nephews…I’d say we’re off to a good start.

Weekly visits (and sometimes more) have continued since we got here.  The more time I spend at Mama’s house and the more I get to know her and the boys, the better it has gotten.  So much so in fact, that I jokingly told my husband if we ever divorce I want two things…the bed and Mama!

Mama and I are so close already.  Two weeks ago she hugged me and said “you are simply my daughter and I love you”.  What validation and acceptance in that statement.  I made a promise to her that I will blog about later, but here’s what’s up…I still despise Arkansas (yes more is coming about that too) but I am crazy about Mama and I will be local to her until the day she dies.

Sunday we typically always go to Mama’s house.  Yesterday we came home from Church, those that were hungry grabbed a snack and off we headed.  We walked in and I was greeted with hugs and the 2 great brothers both asked how I was.  Here’s the best part…they both GENUINELY wanted to know too.  Mama smiles as she sees us walk in and stops what she’s doing to hug on all of us.  The house is full of people. Mama, all 4 of her boys, me, 4 of her grandkids, and my brother’s girlfriend. Later joining us is my other brother’s wife, and Mama’s husband.

I’m so happy being there that when my husband asks if we should head home before it gets dark I volunteer to drive (even though I don’t really like driving at night) so that we can stay longer.  At one moment of the evening, I found myself looking around the room and just taking it all in.  I couldn’t contain the happiness I was feeling…you may recall the status update.  I love my family I’m telling ya!

We return to our home and go about our nighttime/bedtime rituals and as I lay all snuggled up next to my husband it hits me.

I am FINALLY enough!

In that moment I realized that good, bad or ugly (and sometimes I’m all of those things)…I am enough.

Happy Merry Bah Humbug

Let’s get right to the point…

I hate the Fall holiday season.  I hate Thanksgiving, I hate Christmas (gasp yeah I know…but I so totally do).  I can hear what you’re saying…”Oh no you don’t hate the holiday, you hate the stress of all the cooking.  You hate the chaos of shopping, you hate…” NO I FREAKING HATE Thanksgiving and Christmas.

My oldest child is 18…in her entire lifetime I can remember two Christmases that I was excited about.  I can’t remember a Thanksgiving that I looked forward to.  No, not a single one.  I try every year to fake it and sometimes I’m way better at it than others.  This year I sucked royally at faking it.

I spent the majority of Thanksgiving Eve in tears and held more back Thanksgiving Day…till it came time to say goodbye to my fiancé and then I just kinda lost it.  OK OK…no I TOTALLY lost it.  I cried and cried and cried.

The worst part is…there was nothing genuinely terrible about the holiday this year.  In fact, I honestly don’t remember anything terrible ever happening to me at this time of year to make me hate this time of the year as badly as I do.

This year was so incredibly different from previous ones.  First, all 4 of my kids were together for the first time in 6 years…I love this picture:

Something else that’s different is I also got to spend this day with the love of my life.  Additionally my baby sister and miracle-baby nephew (though at 7 he’s not really a baby anymore) hosted.  The day should have been perfect.  What should be and what is though isn’t always the same.

After careful consideration, I have decided that something awful must have happened to me when I was little.  Something so horrible it’s buried deep in my psyche and refusing to show itself in a way that would allow me to process through it and heal from it.  Instead it presents as this horrible feeling of despair and dread and fear and heartache and extreme sorrow.

If humans could do it, I’d totally choose to hibernate on November 24th and not come out till January sometime.  I despise the Fall holiday season that much.

I can’t help but wonder if not remembering what happened causes so much angst, how horrendous must this “thing” have been.  Maybe I don’t really want to know or remember…

Hopefully this will be the last year that I am caught up in all off of this angst.  Despite this dread that looms over me every year, I do know there are still things to be thankful for.  I am grateful that all of my children and I were together, I’m grateful I got to share the day with my man and my sister and my nephew.  I’m thankful for all the tender mercies the Lord continues to offer, despite how I struggle at this time of year.

This morning, a neighbor handed me this…

I am thankful…

for the taxes I pay because it means that I am employed

for the mess to clean after a party because it means that I have been surrounded by friends

for the clothes that fit a little to snug because it means I have enough to eat

for my shadow that watches me work because it means I am out in the sunshine

for a lawn that needs mowing, windows that need cleaning, and gutters that need fixing because it means I have a home

for all the complaining I hear about the government, because it means that we have freedom of speech

for the parking spot I find at the far end of the parking lot, because it means I am capable of walking and have the luxury of transportation

for my huge heating bill because it means I am warm

for the lady behind me in church that sings off-key because it means I can hear

for the pile of laundry and ironing because it means I have clothes to wear

for weariness and aching muscles at the end of the day because I have been capable of working hard

for the alarm that goes off in the early morning hours because it means that I am alive

I think this about sums it up…despite the dread that looms over me, I still have a lot to be thankful for.  Hopefully the new memories I’m making will soon replace the repressed bad memories and I can move from hating this time of year to loving enjoying tolerating it at least.

If I can just TG

You’ve heard about TGIF right…thank God it’s Friday?  Consider if you will…what if you just stopped at the thank God part?  Recently I was asked to give a talk (think sermon) in Sacrament Meeting (our “all congregational” meeting).  A conversation with my niece tonight made me decided to put that talk here in hopes it will help her…maybe it will help you too.

Good Morning Brothers and Sisters!  For those of you that haven’t read your bulletin or who didn’t pay attention to Brother Wade, I’m Sister Faith Freeman and though we’ve settled into Woodland 1st quite nicely, I guess I am still in the “new in the ward” category since my family and I have only been here 2.5 months.  To give you a little information about me, I’m a single parent (though hopefully that part will be changing soon) and have the best three kids this ward has to offer, I’m a full-time student about to finish my bachelor’s degree in graphic design and am the “pioneer” so-to-speak in my family because only my children and I are members.

Unlike most everyone else that gets up to this pulpit, giving a talk in Sacrament Meeting doesn’t at all make me nervous and yet this is only the 2nd time I’ve done it in more than 20 years of church membership.  But then again, I did letter in public speaking and debate in high school so that might have something to do with it.

At any rate, while on my way into the chapel last week for services, Brother Wade handed me a talk and I’m pretty sure it was me who responded with something like “oh so does this mean you’d like me to speak next week” and we both chuckled.

That talk is from the May 2014 General Conference session and is called Grateful in Any Circumstances given by President Uchtdorf.  Kind of fitting given my current situation don’t ya think?  President Uchtdorf is one of my favorite General Authorities and every time he speaks I am convinced he’s speaking exclusively to me.  This talk was no different and while it’s absolutely worth reading in its entirety, I want to hit on a few of the statements he made that were kinda like a kidney punch for me and then I’ll tell you a little bit about what I’ve learned personally from choosing to be grateful no matter what.

President Uchtdorf says “sooner or later, I believe that all of us experience times when the very fabric of our world tears at the seams, leaving us feeling alone, frustrated, and adrift. It can happen to anyone. No one is immune.  But those who set aside the bottle of bitterness and lift instead the goblet of gratitude can find a purifying drink of healing, peace, and understanding.”  He later goes on to explain that there’s a different between being grateful for things and being grateful in things.  He says “perhaps focusing on what we are grateful for is the wrong approach. It is difficult to develop a spirit of gratitude if our thankfulness is only proportional to the number of blessings we can count. It is easy to be grateful for things when life seems to be going our way. But what then of those times when what we wish for seems to be far out of reach? Could I suggest that we see gratitude as a disposition, a way of life that stands independent of our current situation? In other words, I’m suggesting that instead of being thankful for things, we focus on being thankful in our circumstances—whatever they may be.”

I first learned about being grateful in any circumstance on accident back in 2008.  My children and I had just moved cross country and endured what were without a doubt the most difficult circumstances I had ever encountered up to that point.  We moved to Ohio to be near my biological father’s side of the family, but since I wasn’t raised with them, I barely knew them and we were essentially on our own.  Life initially was extremely difficult and I had to make a deliberate conscious choice to find things to be grateful for each and every day or I would have been swallowed whole by loneliness and despair.  You should have seen the things I was grateful for initially…looking back so many of the things I was grateful for were pretty shallow now but we can’t all be deep and profound all the time right?  I also worked hard to make sure I was finding new things to be grateful for every day.  Some of the things I remember making the list were things like air conditioning, flowers, chocolate, care packages containing diet Pepsi lime…at the time it was my favorite drink and I couldn’t buy it anywhere in Ohio, and public school.  I was thankful for public school a lot actually.

What I didn’t know until preparing to give this talk was that choosing to find things to be grateful for every day when life was really hard in time would allowed me to cultivate a grateful heart no matter what.  A character trait I would need for the season of life I’m now in.

Over and over when people heard what brought me to Ohio I heard all kinds of things like what my ex-husband deserved to have happen, and how justified I was to feel hurt or angry or vengeful, how horrible my experience was and whatever else.  Initially I did feel hurt and angry and scared and frustrated and worried and countless other things but then I realized how much power I was giving away to man who didn’t know where I was, who didn’t have any way to reach me, and who never really cared in the first place.  It was time to shift my focal point and this is when I started looking for things to be grateful for.  By diligently seeking things to be grateful for each and every day no matter what, I became a grateful person.

In time, I was able to write a letter to my ex-husband that I posted on my blog many years ago…I want to share part of it with you because it details many things I am still grateful to my ex-husband for:

I should hate you. Nobody I know, except maybe your mom and family, would blame me for hating you. Heck a few people even actually encourage me to do it and yet I don’t. Instead I’m grateful to you. I know, it’s a strange concept considering how abusive you were, but really I am thankful beyond words for you.

Thank you first and foremost for my children. They are one of the two things that matter most to me in this world and I’d be lost without them. The sweetest sound in the world is that of them calling “mommy” and the best feeling I’ve ever known is that of their arms wrapped around me tightly along with the feel of their lips on my cheek. I owe that sound and feeling to you, thank you.

I’m grateful you were selfish. It allowed me to be selfless. When you put yourself first, it required me to put myself last. I learned how to go without the things I wanted so I could give our children what they needed. I also learned that “stuff” really isn’t that important in the grand scheme of things.

Now that I don’t have to live with your rage, I find myself thankful for it. I no longer have to look at our precious children bruised and battered and demand to know what you’ve done. In fact, I’ve enjoyed a peaceful home for over a year now. One in which there are no fist/feet holes in the walls, no jugs of syrup thrown through the walls, no deliberately broken toys, no flying watermelon, and no interior doors treated like punching bags. If it wasn’t for living with your rage, I might not appreciate all of those things the way I do now, so again I thank you.

I am grateful for your lack of faith in my God. It’s allowed me to realize exactly how important my faith in Him is. I am grateful that you never lived worthy of taking me to the temple, despite being baptized and ordained to the priesthood. Your failure to do so ensures I will have no problems being sealed for time and all eternity to a worthy mate in the future. Your lack of faith in my God makes me appreciate this feature in others more than ever before.

I’ve learned to be grateful for your refusal to pay the full court ordered support. When you don’t, it often requires me to ask others for help. In asking for help, I’ve learned how to be a little more humble and countless others have been blessed for their service to our children and I. I am also grateful to you for this because it fuels my desire to work even harder to provide for our children. 

I am also grateful to you for being essentially none of what I wanted and needed in a spouse and too little of what I did. I settled on or for you and my experience with you has taught me not to EVER do it again. Your failure to be who I used to believe you could be, let alone who I wanted you to be, has allowed me to realize I am valuable and don’t have to settle for anyone who can’t see that.

Preparing for this talk and looking back on all the things both good and bad that have happened to me has given me a chance to think about was I grateful for things, or truly grateful in things and though I’ve still got a ways to go, I think I can honestly say I’m at a point where I find myself more often than not grateful IN things.

Adversity is inevitable and I genuinely believe our attitude during tough times is a critical component in enduring it well.  The better our attitude, the easier the adversity is to deal with.  When we choose to be grateful in things, it brings us closer to the Savior.  President Uchtdorf says “Gratitude is a catalyst to all Christ-like attributes! A thankful heart is the parent of all virtues. The Lord has given us His promise that those “who [receive] all things with thankfulness shall be made glorious; and the things of this earth shall be added unto [them], even an hundred fold, yea, more.”  He goes on to say we can choose to be grateful, no matter what. “This type of gratitude transcends whatever is happening around us. It surpasses disappointment, discouragement, and despair. It blooms just as beautifully in the icy landscape of winter as it does in the pleasant warmth of summer. When we are grateful to God in our circumstances, we can experience gentle peace in the midst of tribulation. In grief, we can still lift up our hearts in praise. In pain, we can glory in Christ’s Atonement. In the cold of bitter sorrow, we can experience the closeness and warmth of heaven’s embrace. We sometimes think that being grateful is what we do after our problems are solved, but how terribly shortsighted that is. How much of life do we miss by waiting to see the rainbow before thanking God that there is rain? Being grateful in times of distress does not mean that we are pleased with our circumstances. It does mean that through the eyes of faith we look beyond our present-day challenges. This is not a gratitude of the lips but of the soul. It is a gratitude that heals the heart and expands the mind.”

Personally, I’m still waiting for the “an hundred fold, yea, more” part that President Uchtdorf spoke about but here’s what I’ve learned by being grateful in my circumstances, no matter how difficult they may be.

  1. I’ve learned that Heavenly Father knows my name, He knows my needs, and He will meet them.
  2. I’ve learned that no matter how bad I think my situation is, someone always has it worse.
  3. I’ve learned that I am stronger than I ever thought I could be.
  4. I’ve learned first-hand the difference between being grateful for things and grateful in things and that difference has made all the difference in my life.
  5. I have learned to have or find peace in any circumstance.
  6. I’ve learned that things aren’t the most important things anyway.
  7. I’ve learned that Heavenly Father’s timing is always far better than my own.
  8. I’ve learned that there is always something to be grateful for no matter what.

Lemme just say that again…when you learn to have a grateful spirit, when you chose to be grateful in things instead of for things, you will ALWAYS find something to be grateful for no matter how difficult the situation may be.

  1. I’ve learned that gratitude is contagious. When we choose to be grateful in our circumstances no matter what, those around us instantly become grateful too.
  2. I’ve learned that the more grateful I am, the happier I am.

President Uchtdorf says “being grateful in our circumstances is an act of faith in God. It requires that we trust God and hope for things we may not see but which are true. By being grateful, we follow the example of our beloved Savior, who said, “Not my will, but thine, be done.” True gratitude is an expression of hope and testimony. It comes from acknowledging that we do not always understand the trials of life but trusting that one day we will.”

When it comes to the trials I’ve had to face, there’s a lot I don’t understand.  I don’t understand why I’ve had so many really hard ones and other people I know seem to have really small ones in comparison.  I don’t understand why these huge trials I have come back to back to back, last as long as they do, or continue to come despite my best efforts.  When your life is plagued with epic trials like mine, it is often difficult to be of good cheer but being grateful in things honestly does make a difference.  I believe that the reason I have been blessed the way that I have is largely dependent on having learned to be grateful in all things.  Not just the good things, not just the ok things, not just the moderately bad things, not just in the things I like, but in ALL things good, bad or ugly.

President Uchtdorf concludes his talk saying “how blessed we are if we recognize God’s handiwork in the marvelous tapestry of life. Gratitude to our Father in Heaven broadens our perception and clears our vision. It inspires humility and fosters empathy toward our fellowmen and all of God’s creation. May we “live in thanksgiving daily”—especially during the seemingly unexplainable endings that are part of mortality. May we allow our souls to expand in thankfulness toward our merciful Heavenly Father. May we ever and constantly raise our voices and show by word and deed our gratitude to our Father in Heaven and to His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ.” And it is my testimony that if we do this, we can count on the same experience happening to us that happened to Alma in Mosiah 24:15 “And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethren were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord.”

Being grateful in all things hasn’t really changed any the trials I’m presently in the thick of.  I still hate most of the things that make up my daily existence and life is still difficult.  There are often days I just don’t think I can do this one more second let alone one more minute or hour or day and then Sister Davis shows up with fresh baked cookies or cheesecake or Brother Crawford shows up with wood or propane or extension cords or Sister Harper shows up with a meal or comes and gets us and takes us out to dinner just because, or Brother Shaw is hugging me and telling me how wonderful my children are or Sister Crawford is sharing with me what an amazing Home Teacher my son is or my boyfriend calls me to tell me he wants to come to church with us today so he can hear me give this talk or, or or…These are the kinds of blessings that are mine to enjoy despite this difficult circumstance because I chose to be grateful in things instead of for things.  By doing so, I can see God’s hand at work in my life despite the circumstance and that allows me to continue to face each day with more resolve knowing it won’t be like this forever. May we all seek to develop a perpetual state of gratitude in things instead of for things is my prayer, in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

It’s Electric…but there’s no slide

I seriously don’t know how the early pioneers did it.  While I can cook with coals from my fire, it’s arduous to say the least and I despise it.  Often by the time the fire yields the perfect coals for cooking, I’ve run out of steam to dig the coals out and use them to cook so I just wait for the fire to burn itself out.  Yes I own a dutch oven, yes I own a cast iron skillet and can cook in this primitive way, but I am extremely grateful for the magic of electricity.

My crock pot has gotten more attention in the three months I’ve lived up river than it’s gotten in the last three years I think. In fact, I could probably use a couple more even.  That and a rice maker but we’ll talk about rice another day perhaps.  When my lovely crock isn’t making 6 quarts of yummy goodness for my family, my electric skillet or Foreman are getting worked out.  Sadly, I can’t have the skillet and crock pot plugged in at the same time so cooking continues to be an adventure but I’m figuring it out as I go.  I will say this though:  my creative spirit/talents don’t just stop at graphic and paper design.  I’m getting pretty creative at caring for my family too.

In addition to cookbooks for open fire cooking, I invested in cookbooks specifically for slow cookers and electric skillets and the kiddos think my efforts are stellar.  I’d take all the credit but it’s not that hard to read and follow directions so thanks go to Editors of Favorite Brand Name Recipes  and Presto.  This was tonight’s dinner:

Chicken fried steak (super easy…cubed steak dipped in egg then in bread crumbs then in egg again then in bread crumbs again and fried in electric skillet), a fantastic side dish (page 148 of the crock pot cookbook) and corn.  It’s a carnal sin (or it should be anyway) to have chicken fried steak without gravy but there was nothing fancy about the gravy.

Pretty much the only noise I heard from my kids during dinner was choruses of yum and agreement that this meal hit the spot.  Oh yes and begging me to make sure I made it again sometime soon and requests to take the leftovers to school tomorrow for lunch.  Pretty sure that’s kid speak for “DANG my mama can COOK”…at least that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

Winds of Change

As a parent, I’m entitled to not only personal revelation, but any revelation I want or need to help me with those I’m a steward over.  In short, as the head of the household I’m entitled to personal revelation for my family.  Likewise, as the head of the Ward family, the Bishop is entitled to revelation for the ward.

The Friday before I was due to move to Cougar, I received the most interesting voice mail.  It went on about how Bishop Heath (my new Bishop) had instructed this person to get us in a closer park, to do it immediately, and to do whatever it took to get us there.  When I called back, the High Priest Group Leader informed me what he already had paperwork for me and could come get me so I could see the place and fill out the paperwork and twenty minutes later I was on my way.  The new park has laundry facilities on-site, is 5 miles from the highway/town, there are members within walking distance and it even comes with a pool.  This guy and his wife even took me to the Cougar park to get my deposit back and everything.

As we’re driving up to Cougar he assures me that the new ward will love on me extra good and I proudly boast what big shoes they have to fill because my beloved 7th Ward is affectionately nick named 7th Heaven.  He insists they are up to the challenge and he was right.

Since arriving in my new spot, I’ve been loved on very good.  I’ve met so many people I can’t remember everyone (and I’m good with names and faces) and we’ve been very warmly received.  We’ve attended church here almost a month now (well Miss Ella and I have anyway) and as difficult as it is for me to ask, each time we have a need and I’m willing to humble myself enough to ask, that need is always met.

Our place within the new RV park is prime real estate let me tell you.  We only have neighbors on one side and we have the biggest yard (or pretty close to it) in the entire place.  Oh and let’s not forget this view…

Gorgeous isn’t it?  Go ahead be jealous…

Camp life is physically a lot harder than apartment/city living is.  Having to dispose of the dirt you’ve acquired after digging out a fire pit is no joke.  Building fires daily is also tougher than flipping the switch on the gas fireplace we had in our apartment.  Additional chores include things like stacking wood, dumping gray and black water, doing dishes without using a sink, cooking over a fire pit with no grill, shaking out rugs and sweeping several times a day, and countless other things.  We also have to do chores two or three times a day if we’d like to keep our spot looking spiffy.  Then there’s going to the bathroom to shower and do hair and makeup…talk about a workout sometimes (uphill carrying all your stuff).  Despite being physically harder, we lead a much simpler life and I have now heard every one of my kids say that this new way of living is not as bad as they thought it would be and they actually do like the simplicity of it.

We’ve survived our first major rain storm (though we do need to get our trailer tarped before the next major rains come), we’ve been able to endure the epic heat wave we’ve had lately in relative ease given we have a pool and AC in the trailer, we’ve met great people in and out of our Ward alike, we’ve started to put the most important things first finally, and ultimately, I think we’ve realized we can endure way more than we ever thought we could.  Except if it’s mosquitoes…I’m not enduring those little suckers well at all.

While this particular circumstance is not how I’d prefer to live if it were up to me, it has been a learning experience already.  I’ve learned that when a trial comes our way (and they will keep coming trust me), we can make it an obstacle or an opportunity by how we respond to it.  I choose to allow this opportunity to make me better not bitter.

Full Surrender

If you and I are Facebook friends, then you know things are incredibly difficult for me right now.  I wasn’t going to come out with what it is that has me rattled to the core, but writing has always been cathartic for me and with the challenges that lie ahead, I need all the relief I can get.

I am about to embark on yet another forced adventure and have cried gallons of tears over it; rivers maybe even.  The details as to the how and why aren’t really that important.  It’s the what that has me rather troubled. This new adventure is as scary as it is frustrating and as sad as it is hard. I feel ill-equipped even if I am uniquely qualified for it.

Since June 15th I’ve been on the phone, online, packing, or crying.  I’ve not been able to focus on much of anything and sleep has been in short supply as my mind is consumed with good and bad thoughts.  Satan would have me believe that I’m a terrible mother and my kids deserve more.  He’d have me believe that this current circumstance was totally preventable and all my fault.  He’d have me believe that I’m a failure and suggest I respond by doing some outrageous things.  It’s so painful a recent Facebook status of mine read “In addition to crying enough tears over the last few days to end any water shortage a small country might be facing, I’ve also talked so much I’m hoarse and apparently sound like my son on the phone. I’m pretty sure I’ve also been rejected more times in the last 72 hours than I ever have in the previous 40 years and some-odd days leading up to the last 72 hours COMBINED. Never again will I say it can’t get any worse or this is the hardest it’s ever been because it just gets worse and harder when I do. I feel like I’m facing insurmountable odds and though as my good friend Hanna reminded me, I will adapt because I don’t have any other choice, all I really want to do is be 4 again play play dough and dress up with my Mom. Yes I know that God is mindful of me; yes I am reading my scriptures; yes I am saying my prayers. Yes I am going to church (speaking of that any locals that can give us a ride tomorrow that’d be awesome) BUT…if one more person says to just keep the faith or reminds me that He has a plan I might have to punch them in the throat…HARD. Will everything be OK eventually…of course it always is. That’s not the problem…the problem is it’s not OK right now and I really REALLY need it to be.”

I have been a member of the Vancouver 7th Ward since my arrival in Vancouver 4 years ago.  I have developed some relationships with people in this ward that I cherish.  I am confident they know who they are so I don’t need to name them all here.  In short, 7th Ward is where it’s at.  Without a doubt, the most incredible ward I’ve ever been in.  Up until four years ago my fave ward was Springboro, but the relationships and love I’ve received in the last four years in Vancouver 7th make all other wards pale in comparison.  This is truly a ward family…and I am a big part of it.  Sunday July 13th will be our last Sunday in the ward; typing that brings tears to my eyes and as hard as leaving this ward is, it’s not the hardest part.

This isn’t even the sweetest part of our current location though.  My sister and bestest best friend forever and ever and always lives 10 minutes up the street.  I see a lot of her, we have a standing weekly date night, her 17-year-old son said it’s weird that we’re so close because he feels like he has two moms only instead of us being lesbian (though we do believe we’ve been mistaken for such before) we’re sisters.  I love her boys like my own son and she has backed me up to the ends of the earth and beyond with my own kids countless times.  Moving out of 7th Ward also means I’m moving away from her.  I can’t even begin to explain how painful it is to know that I will soon be a lot further than just 10 minutes down the street from her.

Then there’s my adoptive parents…I’ve blogged about how important they are to me several times and I’m moving even further away from them as well.  This means, just as we were getting used to the fun of holidays together we’re going to be too far away to enjoy any more.  This breaks my heart.  I am insanely in love with my baby nephew who we all actually call Baby.  I adore his mom, I’m crazy about my niece and well I just love my adopted family a ton and I know they love me also.  Sad to just get my parents back in my life only to move away from them yet again.

Finally in all of this there is the love of my life.  He and I just got back together the end of May and now, just 6 or 8 weeks later I’m moving away from him too.  He lives 20 minutes away and I typically only see him once a week right now and it’s not nearly enough time with him.  What will I do when I’m only able to see him once a month?  I think this, combined with everything else might be the death of me.  I cry and cry and cry.  My heart is so heavy; I am so pained.

See it’s not just that we’re moving…it’s that for the next few months we will be living in a 27′ Wanderer Gliderite trailer in an RV park in Cougar, WA.  To some this might sound like paradise.  Keep in mind that I am a city girl.  I even love traffic and smog (yeah I know crazy).  Consider also that there will be 4 of us living in that space, and our neighbors will be inches away.  These things alone are enough to make the situation difficult but then, for good measure, let’s just throw in the fact that the population of our new home is one hundred fifty according to the 2010 census.  Seriously?  That’s fewer people than just the apartment complex I now live in has.  Oh yeah and let us not forget that this place is 40 miles one way from the nearest real town and I don’t have a car, a bike, a scooter, or anything other than two good feet and one really bad back to get around on.  If all that isn’t bad enough, there’s the bugs and wildlife that I’d rather not live near let alone with, campfire cooking, shared showers (or insane propane costs for hot showers in the trailer), and the fact that there’s no cell coverage at the camp itself.  Just because I can camp doesn’t mean I want to, enjoy it, or am even looking forward to it.  Earlier I said I was uniquely qualified right?  I can cook in foil on coals of a fire and make it taste good, just as easy as I can cook on a regular stove.  I can build fires that burn so hot with no non-natural ingredients that they have to be put out twice, I can pitch a tent, I can clean a fish, and lots of other outdoorsy kinds of things.  Knowing how and wanting to do them are not the same though.

Heartache and sorrow have prevailed as I’ve thought about where and how I’ll be living this time next month.  I’ve cried to my sister, my mom, my home teachers, my visiting teachers, my friends, my boyfriend, and even my kids.  My kids are really excited.  Each of them have a different reason they think this is all going to be OK.  I have yet to be convinced…until about an hour ago.

Sunday afternoon my sister drove me up to the campground to put down a deposit on my spot and though I tried to play it off like it was gonna be great, inside I was miserable.  On the drive up there though I happened to hear Building 429’s song We Won’t Be Shaken.  My sister and I were chatting away like we always do when we’re in the car and so I only kinda, sorta, not really paid attention to the lyrics.  You know how when you’re really tired but you have to do something critical and dangerous like oh drive you pay more attention?  Well that’s where I was at and so I got a chance to really hear and internalize the lyrics to this song…I couldn’t believe what peace washed over me when I heard these lyrics:

…This mountain rises higher
The way seems so unclear
But I know that You go with me so I will never fear
I will trust in You

Whatever will come our way
Through fire or pouring rain
Oh we won’t be shaken
No we won’t be shaken
Whatever tomorrow brings
Together we’ll rise and sing
That we won’t be shaken…

You know my every longing
You’ve heard my every prayer
You’ve held me in my weakness
Cause You are always there
So I’ll stand in full surrender
It’s Your way and not my own
My mind is set on nothing less
Than You and You alone
I will not be moved…

This has now become my family’s theme song.  It’s often very interesting to me how God works.  At various points through this process, each of my children have come to me individually and said that maybe the reason we were going through this was basically to do what this song says…set our minds on Him and nothing less.

I’m sure it’s only me and mine, but we are that family in the movie RV.  Hopefully we’ll have the same experience after our RV adventure minus the septic scene and a few others.  At the beginning of this movie Robyn Williams, who’s character’s name I don’t remember,  mentions how plugged in everyone is.  They text each other from other rooms in the house and spend pretty much zero time together.  That’s my family presently.  We’ve gotten away from the basics.  We’ve stopped doing things together in more than one aspect of our lives.  On any given day of the week, you’ll find me plugged into the computer doing homework, editing photos, playing Words with Friends or otherwise computer driven, my 15-year-old on her phone doing much of the same things, my son swallowed up by Xbox and my youngest daughter busy reading or listening to music.  Each of us in the same household, but quite literally off in our own worlds.  We’ve been too distracted by other things and people to even do some of the most important things that need doing to safeguard our family from the winds of hell that seek to destroy us.  Things like Family Home Evening, family scripture study, family prayer, regular church attendance, personal prayer and scripture study.  As a result, Satan has had a firm hold on my family for a long time.

When crying with my middle daughter recently about this move and explaining how frustrated I was at all the rejection I’ve gotten and how of all the places in the world I wanted to be right now, Cougar, WA was not even close to “it” she, in all the wisdom that is this young woman, said maybe the reason we’re being stuck in Cougar is because God wants us to come back to Him and He knows to do that we need to be somewhere free of distraction.  See…told you that young woman is wise beyond her 15 years for sure.

I still don’t know the purpose in this scene, but I do think my daughter is right.  It’s remote enough that the number one rule is always take a buddy.  The distractions are pretty much going to be gone entirely.  The camp does offer internet but I’m not sure there will be enough umph in the trailer to even run my computer which will make finishing school very difficult.  Then, as I listened to this Building 429 song a while ago, there was that line or two that just kind of kidney punched me.  “So I’ll stand in full surrender, it’s Your way and not my own” and then later as the chorus plays again we hear “whatever tomorrow brings, together we’ll rise and sing” and through this whole process those who’ve had the details all along I’ve said this same thing to.  At the end of the day, even with all the misgivings I have about this adventure two things remain constant.  We are together and the gospel is still true.

I know that my Heavenly Father loves me; I know that my children know this same thing.  I know that just as He has provided for us in our time of need right here in Vancouver, He will continue to do the same in Cougar.  His love is constant and unchanging even when the world around us is not.  Where there is chaos, He provides peace.  Where there is fear and doubt, He offers blessed assurance.  I have learned, even when I struggle to look in the right direction, that whether I feel overwhelmed by chaos and fearful or at peace and full of blessed assurance largely depends on where I look and what I focus on.  These next few months of “camping” (albeit doing so in relative style) will undoubtedly be rough, but there are also tender mercies to be found and blessings already present.

This has happened in July not January.  It’s plenty warm enough to camp indefinitely.  It happened after reconciliation with my adopted family because the trailer we are using belongs to my adopted cousin who is letting me use it at no charge.  It’s happening at just about the same time my kids get back from/head off to Girls Camp and Scout Camp so camp skills will be fresh in their minds.  We are fortunate enough to be in a ward when we move and not just a branch, people we love have agreed to come visit so we won’t be alone, space was available immediately with no difficult getting in, several of our close friends are avid campers and they have helped us to prepare, our beloved 7th Ward has plenty of trucks and trailers so a u-haul isn’t necessary, we’re getting a huge storage unit half off for three months, our pad is all-inclusive and we don’t have to risk that scene in RV where they have to dump the waste, the campground owner is very kind, there are members in Cougar, the place is undeniably beautiful, there’s lake access both to the East and West of us within walking distance (so the kids can cool off on these hot summer days that are upon us), we will soon be lean and mean with all the walking we’ll have to do (we have to walk a half mile round trip just to have cell phone coverage), the buddy system allows any two of us to get closer at countless points through the day, the absence of distractions requires us to put first/most important things first, we’ll have great stories to tell kids and grand kids down the road, though there isn’t cell coverage at camp, there is Internet so I can finish school if the connection is adequate and arguably the most important of all the immediate blessings is that we will be together and we will not be living on the streets.

My kids are phenomenal and I don’t just say that because they are mine.  Ask anyone who’s met them and they will tell you that though not perfect, these kids are indeed amazing.  They could have reacted very differently when learning how we’d be living for the next few months.  Here’s what happened though…my youngest daughter excitedly proclaimed “FINALLY you’re taking us camping, I love camping” and my son said “just imagine all the bugs I can catch and throw on Jazmyne” (typical little brother for you), and Jazmyne just keeps assuring me that it’s not a big deal and we’re gonna be just fine.  Already I’m seeing some positive changes in these children as we prepare for camp life too.

We are all thinking about what we can do to pass the time as a family,  Jazmyne was “caught” in her scriptures voluntarily for the first time in months at church on Sunday and she volunteered to read a few chapters last night while we were reading Moroni to help Miss Gabryella finish up her Personal Progress.  Mason excitedly pulled out his Duty to God book and informed us he was anxious to get started on it.  Additionally, he has volunteered to do all the manly camp things like chop wood, hunt, fish (and clean/gut his kill) and when saying our family prayer last night he asked God to bless him with the ability to bless his family during this experience.  In short, our hearts are already returning to God.  We have a long ways to go still, but I believe we’re moving in the right direction both literally and figuratively.

Though this will be an adjustment for sure and may often prove difficult, the despair and gloom I feel around this change is dissipating quickly.  “Whatever will come our way, through fire or pouring rain, oh we won’t be shaken.  No we won’t be shaken.  Whatever tomorrow brings, together we’ll rise and sing that we won’t be shaken.  No we won’t be shaken…we will trust in You and we will not be shaken.”

Everything Has A Season

Some obvious known facts about me…I am a woman.  Further, I am a Black woman and if you take it a step further, I am a Black LDS woman.  Unless you are living under a rock, I’m sure you’ve heard about the Ordain Women movement in the LDS faith and its founder Kate Kelly.  If you haven’t, well Google it if you’d like.

There are a few blogs I’ve read recently on Sister Kelly’s excommunication that are so well written I see no need to reinvent the wheel.  Two of my favorite’s can be found here and here and the two embody everything I feel as a LDS woman.  What they don’t touch on though is my position/thoughts/feelings/sentiments/emotions/testimony of what it means to be a Black woman in a “white religion” (GASP…oh yes I sure did just go there).

I remember some 20 years ago when I joined this church all the grief I got from people concerned that I’d be treated poorly or who had genuine concern over the fact that I was joining a racist church.  One that didn’t even recognize Black men as equal to white men until the 1970’s.  Being a proverbial student type, I elected to tell these naysayers to stick it where the sun don’t shine, got baptized anyway (truth is truth after all) and then I set out on a mission to do two things…first to prove all the ways the Book of Mormon contradicted the Bible (still looking for proof 22+ years later) and get to the bottom of these racist claims.

For the sake of concise, I’m not going to get into all the people I talked to, all the research I did, all the books I read, or any of that.  What I have to share about how I feel as a Black woman knowing that my beautiful Black brothers weren’t allowed to hold the priesthood until the 1970’s is this…

It has been my experience that God ALWAYS gives us what we need when HE knows we need it most.  Power and authority is pointless without the ability to use it right?  Let’s consider the state of Black men in America in the 1970’s shall we…actually that’s a bitter pill to swallow so maybe we shan’t.  I will say this is not the first time God has withheld priesthood authority though.  I’m sure all of you Old Testament fans recall King Saul right?  Do you also recall how much dirt he got into for offering up a sacrificial animal without having the proper authority?  I’m pretty sure, it wouldn’t be too far of a stretch to say that the church was racist then too right because only priests were allowed to do this, not kings.  Maybe not racist, but certainly classist at the very least.

OK OK…I know what you’re thinking “crazy Black LDS Woman is going WHERE exactly”…Saul wasn’t given priesthood rights and responsibilities because he didn’t need and couldn’t use them.  Black LDS men were not given priesthood rights and responsibilities for the SAME reason.  At least that’s how I think of it anyway.  Let’s get real here people…in the mid 70’s we STILL had active KKK rallies and by active I mean publicized or well-known, we were barely 10 years post Civil Rights Era, churches and yes even schools were still segregated.  With this kind of national sentiment (always of course there are exceptions but the world is built on rules not exceptions), what exactly could a Black LDS man hope to do here in the United States?!?!?  I’ll tell you straight up…not much.  Women have not been ordained to the priesthood for the same reason.  It is presently unnecessary.

It wasn’t that church doctrine says Black men are inferior because they are Black, it wasn’t that the church wanted to stay segregated, it wasn’t that the church is racist or any of that.  It was simply that fair doesn’t always mean equal.  Even though Black LDS men didn’t receive the priesthood until 1978, they were not denied any of the blessings having the priesthood again on the earth allows.  This same thing goes for the Ordain Women movement as well.  In the Proclamation to the World on the Family, it says “all human beings—male and female—are created in the image of God. Each is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny. Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose.”  Yes I know a few other wormy cans that can be opened with this statement but the part that sticks out to me in light of the Ordain Women thing is this…”each has a divine nature and destiny.”  My destiny as a woman is not the same as my brother’s.  If we all had the same nature and destiny, wouldn’t we then be asexual beings and have no need for two genders?  Men and women, by divine design are created different, but equal.  I so love what Dallin H. Oaks said in a recent address on this issue and a beautiful image was created highlighting a key part of this talk.  Check this out:

 

https://scontent-b-sea.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xap1/t1.0-9/p526x296/10456129_268178550021275_8209167951868681440_n.jpg

And, if you’d like to take a few minutes to watch the entire address, please click play on the video player below.  I will say that Elder Oaks is one of my all-time-fave General Authorities EVER and it’s so worth the time it takes to watch this talk.  Even if you aren’t LDS, especially if you aren’t LDS actually.

I do not take offense to the fact that my fellow Black LDS men weren’t able to hold the priesthood until 1978 and I am not at all offended that I as a woman cannot presently hold the priesthood.  Just like the time came when it was prudent for Black LDS men to hold the priesthood, should the time come that the ordination of women becomes necessary, the prophet will declare it and “whether by mine own voice or by the voice of my servants, it is the same”.

Some of the best counsel I received came from a priesthood holder I adore, my chosen Dad.  He said we must remember that there are two forces at work in this world and both are equally committed to their cause.  Which we are subject to depends on who’s counsel we choose to take.  It saddens me that Sister Kelly is choosing to listen to the influence of Satan.  How do I know this is fact?  Because only good comes from God and pushing an agenda and demanding doctrinal changes repeatedly due to a stated (and publicized) believe that the ordination of women is necessary is anything but good.  If it’s not good, it must then be evil/lies/deceit and Satan is the father of all that.  I pray that she finds peace in whatever future endeavors she pursues and I pray that those she has led astray (or those who are also listening to Satan and who share her believe) will be able to recognize whose influence they are under and act accordingly.

Yes GOD does chastise/punish/discipline.  In fact, “for whom the Lord loveth he chasteneth, and scourgeth every son whom he receiveth.” (Hebrews 12:6 KJV).  Remember the dirt Saul got into, and then David lost his exhalation for killing Uriah and I know you all know about Cain and Able and on and on.

And there it is there ladies and gents…it takes us both…male and female.  If men were supposed to do everything women did, they’d have a uterus.  If women were intended (by divine design) to do everything men do, they’d have the priesthood.  Again, fair doesn’t mean equal.