It all started with the word Keys.

 Can I just say I'm going through an adjustment period?  I just got switched to teaching early morning and first hour seminary. Leaving the house at 6 a.m. every morning has had its challenges.  And at the top of the list would be the worry that I might not hear the 5 a.m. alarm go off.  So I wake up with a start every hour during the night to look at the time.  "No not yet" and roll over to try to go back to sleep.  It's been such a good time that by the 3rd night of no real sleep accompanied with dizziness, I took a sleeping pill.  Good news... sleeping pill worked.  I slept the sleep of the Gods.  It was heavenly.  The only repercussion was my processing was a tad delayed, which led to taking longer to get ready, which led to leaving later.  But then I told myself, "You're ok, it's Friday which is late start." That thought calmed down the building anxiety.  Then a mile or so down the road, a single word came to my mind... "Keys."  I shrugged it off, " I have my keys, I put them in the zippered part of my purse."  And then another thought hit me... "Check."   I'm at a stop sign, so I decide to follow through with this thought, even though pretty sure it's in the zippered pocket.  I check, it's not there.  Hmm.  Then I check every pocket.. nothing, and then in a frantic pursuit I'm checking every nook and cranny.  No keys!

It's here that I turn around and drive like a formula one race car driver back home.  I run upstairs and check the coat I had worn the day before and in the 2nd pocket ( there's only 2) I find them! "Hallelujah!"  Grab keys, race back to car and drive in previous like manner all the way to the seminary building only to find the students who ride the school bus are already there, huddled together in below freezing temps. waiting to be let in.( And as you know teens don't wear coats, so they got to be pretty near frozen at this point.)  It quickly registers that even though it says it's "late start," the bus schedule is the exact same. Note to self, there is no difference between late start and early start. 

 As I drive home after classes, I ponder those quiet little thoughts "Keys" and "Check." What would I have done if I got to the seminary building without keys?  There was no one else there.  The Lord knew this and helped me sidestep a minor disaster .  I then wondered if the Lord had even tried to convey that message before I left?  Maybe. But, I was in a frenzy trying to get out the door.  It wasn't till a mile down the road that my mind was calm and I received the message. Elder Packer shared this quote:  “The Spirit does not get our attention by shouting or shaking us with a heavy hand. Rather, it whispers. It caresses so gently that if we are preoccupied, we may not feel it at all.”  

I wonder how often the Lord speaks to us through the Spirit, but because we are too preoccupied with other things, we are missing the messages. I think  I can safely say a lot of messages are getting by me undetected. And seeing that it's January, it feels like the right time to start a new goal like slow down, quiet your mind, and just listen. Can you imagine if we all slowed down and listened to the good thoughts coming to us and then acted on them?  Maybe politicians would know how to be peacemakers,  and the lonely could be led to connections, the lost could be found, the downtrodden lifted, the anxious comforted, and the holes in our hearts filled with love.  I think this one small change, could possibly be the key to changing the world.

Where Would We Be Without a Running Partner?

So I had made a goal back in January that I would run a half marathon with Nate in 2024.  I had a whole year to plan, train, and execute this goal.  But life happens and time speeds on by. So, Duane brings up the idea, "Why don't you do your own half marathon?  I could make you medals, you can run around the orchard." 

I like that idea, I don't have to travel or stress about my time like in a real race.  I can just run whenever.  And that easy peasy half marathon idea made me think I'm going to do that.  Only time got away from me. It was now December 30th.  I couldn't believe I hadn't run a half marathon with Nate. Nate had accomplished the half marathon though.  In his training for cross country, he had run over 13 miles around the orchard, just like Dad had suggested.  But not me, what the heck was I doing?  I don't know, but it wasn't running.  

 So it's Dec. 30 as mentioned, but something is glaring at me through the window.. is that the sun?   This doesn't happen most days in winter in the Tri-cities. Then I went outside, Huh it wasn't windy either.  Wait, what was the temperature?  I go and check the weather station. Yeah, being married to an orchardist means we have perks like multiple weather stations in our house. I can know the temp, wind speed, and barometric pressure any time of the day. I check the temp- 47 degrees.  No way.  A thought starts materializing.  I could run a half marathon today.  Not around the farm, it's muddy and potholed thanks to the outrageous amount of rain, but along the river there is a walkway for miles.  I could go there.  I think I can do this.  I mean I haven't trained, but I do work out on the daily, surely those HIIT and stationary bike workouts with 3 lb weights  have trained me for moments like this. " Ummm, don't think about it.. just do it."

 So I do, I  jump in running clothes and take off driving towards the river. As I'm driving, I realize I have no water stations along the way.  "Oh man planning your own race is not easy. " I call to get Nate to bring me water at the turn around point of my run, he and Dad agree to meet me there.  As I pull into the park  and open the car door what greets me is a gust of bone chilling wind. Ugh! I didn't wear enough layers, just a light jacket that clearly the wind just charged right through.   But I remind myself," Running makes you warmer, running makes you warmer... just keep running." I soon notice that the course changes directions and  the wind is not hitting me full on, it is a side swipe. God is good.

The plan was to run to the cable bridge and turn around, but at the blue bridge I come upon a man made homeless shelter and a man is waiting under the bridge staring at me.  This feels uncomfortable.  I run faster.  As I pass him, he turns and follows me. This feels even more uncomfortable.  I find another gear and run even faster. Pretty sure I can't keep up this pace.  Then up ahead I see another homeless looking man.  It's here I make an executive decision, I need to turn around. I need to get away from these potential crime scenes with no witnesses.  So I run around the light pole like that was my plan all along and hightail it back the other way.  Yes, I had to run by the first homeless looking guy again, but as I pass a new feature stands out, he's limping.  I'm feeling pretty good about my odds.   It is here I call Duane and Nate to let them know I am turning around because of the sketchy area. They ask, " Are you by the cable bridge? "

"Yeah." So Duane sends Nate out to run some water to me.   I keep running expecting to see Nate at any minute, but I don't.  His words keep replaying in my head, "Are you by the cable bridge?"   

" Wait... I am NOT by the cable bridge, I turned around at the Blue Bridge."  Oh my goodness! I try calling Nate, no answer, so I just text " Blue bridge." I run on for another couple of miles before I hear fast feet pounding the pavement behind me.  It's Nate, he went 3 miles further than expected to find me. He didn't get the text about the bridge, he left his phone and the last words he heard were I'm in a sketchy place, so he was glad to see he still had a mom who was alive.

 As we ran he talked about how Dad was going to meet up with us and Nate was really looking forward to grabbing his sweatshirt, since he was decked out in shorts and a short sleeve shirt. But miscommunication happened, Duane went to another spot saw  Nate already running past and figured he was  good and left.  To Nate's credit, he didn't even mention the discomfort until the last half mile where he said things like, " I wish I had gotten my sweatshirt out." and "My hands are cold." and "This has to be the longest amount of time I have ever ran going the fewest amount of miles." 

In every aspect this was a real sacrifice for him. He had already run his half marathon, he was freezing, he had plans with his friends he forewent to run with me, and he was still carrying the sloshing water bottle for me to drink from that he never even drank out of.  Everything he did was a sacrifice for me to finish my goal...and  together we did.  We finished that half marathon just as the sun was setting. 

 I watched as he tried to warm up in the car. I was drawn to his raw, red hands, the part of his body most exposed and taking the hardest hit.  And it made me think of another's hands.  Ones that had nail prints.  That have sacrificed the most for me.  Christ had already performed the atonement to pay for all of us, but yet he still runs by our side in our struggles and offers us water when we thirst.  He helps us learn the lessons of life at our pace, probably wishing we could learn them faster to shorten the suffering we go through.  But whatever choices we make, He is there if we will turn to Him, He will run the race of life with us.  He will suffer with us, strengthen us and encourage us to keep going and help us make it to the end.  

I'm so thankful for my son and his Christlike example on that run and I'm thankful for the one who is Always the Example, the one running beside me every day of my life.  He is the one who offers water when I thirst and wisdom where I lack and strength to pick me up after a fall and love at all times.

There is no doubt in my mind if we just keep running, we are going to make it to the end, because we got one heck of a running partner.

 

#Christisourexample

#ChurchofJesusChrist.org

#13.1done

 

Do I Know You?

                   

Starvation had set in.  That is what prompted us to find food at the nearest possible location.  When I walked to the counter to pay for our food, a Hispanic girl with kind eyes and a warming smile waited for me at the counter, but right next to her was a  boisterous guy beckoning me to his cash register.  He was funny and we had clearly made eye contact, so I felt compelled to go to his register instead.  But as soon as I move over, I notice the kind girl had also moved over to join in the conversation.  She knew who I was.  She asked if I still was working at Edwin Markham Elementary School..  I struggled to remember her.  Nothing was familiar about her.  I was certain she wasn't a past student of mine and instead must know me because she had seen me at the school and was in the Bilingual program there. 

She then went on to tell me how good my son Nate did at track this year.  She even told me about specific runs she had seen him in.  I'm surprised that I still don't know her, when clearly we have been at the same running events.  Then she comments about how well my daughter did last year on her graduation speech as the valedictorian.  I was blown away.  At this point, I want to know who she is.  Who is this young lady who pays such close attention to others and makes them feel known?  I ask her to remind me of her name, It is Joseline.  I thought maybe the name would trigger a memory, but it doesn't.  The one thing I know is that this girl's observation skills are stellar.

I begin wondering about her.  What had propelled her to engage in conversation with me?  I really didn't know her.  Yet, she made the effort to go to the other register, when I didn't even go to hers to have this conversation with me.  After a comment or two and I didn't have anything to say, she didn't let the conversation drop, she continued to tell me more about the good things she had seen my children do.  And then the part of feeling known, why did that make me  feel so good?  There was nothing really special about us to take notice of and yet she had and she wanted me to know that we mattered.  That we were seen and we were known.

I left in wonderment of Joseline.  I wanted to be more like her.  One who notices others and then makes the effort to reach out and sprinkle kind words that leaves the other party feeling blessed by the encounter. 

Several days later, still thinking about this encounter, I looked up the meaning of her name and found it meant happy, joyful.  She was indeed living up to her name perfectly.

Good Thoughts = Good Day

I had just finished reading a book. (Bonds that Set Us Free by C. Terry Warner- in case you want to read it.)  There were many, many pages, like over 500. I fell asleep 3 different times trying to finish it.  Not because it was boring, it's just long.  And after reading it, I discovered one of the most important themes was this phrase:  Listen to your conscience and then immediately act on it. 

So began the experiment by trying to notice my thoughts.  I had to go to the dermatologist for a questionable spot on my face.  I noticed the assistant had amazing long, silky, black hair. I couldn't even spot a split end.  I thought I should tell her how beautiful her hair was.  But then I thought that will sound weird, so  I didn't.   I mean she has a mirror, she can see for herself how beautiful her hair is.  And then I left and it was as I was sitting in the car that I realized I had rationalized that thought away.  I had just done exactly what it said in the book that we do.  Instead of acting, we immediately rationalize why we shouldn't do it and we lay out some convincing arguments that keep us from doing the right thing. I was a little disappointed in myself.

Next on my list was the grocery store.  I only needed a few items... turned out to be 20, but still too many for self check out, which was about 15. So, I had to wait behind a cart that was overflowing.  This was really testing my patience.  I kept looking at the self checkout lane speed through and wanted to jump in it.  But instead I pulled out my phone and read a book while I waited.  And then I noticed people got in line behind me because I could overhear their conversation.  They liked dropping the F-bomb like every other sentence.  Not reveling in the loud conversation, I was grateful when I could finally unload my cart and move away to start the bagging process.  But as I bagged, I looked up and a girl about 12 years old was bagging items for the F-bombing women.  She looked so innocent and sweet and I couldn't help but notice her hair.  Hair again...why does this keep happening to me?   Her hair was a copper color with sheens of gold shimmering through it. It really was beautiful.  And since I had berated myself for rationalizing not complimenting the last person with great hair, I decided even if  it sounded weird I was going to say it.  So I say "You have beautiful hair."  

She looks up, "What?"  

So I try again, " I really like your hair."  

Suddenly a bright smile spreads across her face, "Thanks."

 It was a simple compliment, but it lit up her face like Christmas morning and it flooded my heart with emotion too.  There is something to this acting on good thoughts.

And then later that day, I talked to my mom on the phone and she said, "Something funny happened at the temple today.  A male patron stopped and looked at me and then he said, "Who does your hair?"

And she responded, "I do."

And then he said, "It's beautiful!"  

She then replayed how she thought about that interaction all day and it made her want to giggle.  She said, "That man really made my day!"

Who knew that compliments on hair were going viral that day and who knew what an impact they could have.  Giving a compliment is such a simple thing.  If  you like what they are wearing, or their smile or hair, let them know.  It costs you nothing and makes not only them feel great, but you'll feel pretty amazing too.

Good thoughts... turns out we are having them all the time.  Take the time to notice and then act instead of rationalizing them away, odds are good you are going to make someone's day, including your own.

Wind in my hair, sunlight dancing through the trees. I cruised the dirt roads without a care in the world. I was free. So this is how bikers feel. That's right I was riding a motorcycle, aka pit bike, miniature automatic motorcycle, not that that makes it any less. I was living my biker mama dreams. I was cool, nothing could stop me, the world was mine in those brief moments of circling the neighbor's vineyard and then I came around the corner with the house in view. My husband saw me coming and whipped out his camera. I could sense his pride as I pulled up. I revved the throttle just to epitomize just how cool I was knowing this footage would be saved for generations to come.

And then I came to a stop like a professional and tossed my hair back for added effect and went to get off the bike forgetting to turn it off and my hand was still on the throttle and off we went, me half on, bike with a mind of its own heading out on another ride without a willing participant. I had entered whiskey throttle territory.
Next thing I remember is the bike crashing, my leg caught behind the tire and going down full on it. My body landing on the exhaust pipe. Did I mention I was wearing my favorite OU jersey? Yeah, it melted. My leg that was caught on the tire, took the full brunt of the incident, with tire tracks embedded on it. Bruises on my stomach and legs but the absolute worse- my pride. Yes, I went from glorious to ridiculous in two seconds and lucky for me it was all caught on video. The family has only replayed it over and over, reeling in laughter each time. And to think we will have that footage for generations to come.
Hmmm. What do I learn from all of this. It can't be pride goeth before the fall. I mean that was a side lesson of the deal. But what I really learned was to finish. I came so close to finishing that ride in glory, but I made one fatal error by forgetting to turn off the bike.
This life is a ride and there are moments just like this one when we get distracted or get caught up in ourselves. Unfortunately when we lose sight of where we are going and what we are doing,other forces in the world take over and we will go down. Sometimes taking others with us, who may follow in our footsteps. We must be focused in our journey, remember what we are doing and where we are headed and endeavoring to take all the steps that will get us back to our Father in Heaven.
This life can be a good one, yes there will be the learning curve and there will be moments out of our control, but if we follow the rules ( keep the commandments) we will avoid the major pitfalls.
To my fellow travelers of life- remember who you are... you are beloved children of a Heavenly King and don't lose sight of where you are going.. back to Him. Let's follow Him to the end and finish this ride in glory.

Some days are just bad ones.  You started out good, you woke up.  Then you hurried into your usual routine to try to get everything done and be on time to the places you needed to be.  You don't have time to think or worry because you are on the time clock.  But then someone says some comment to you and you think huh... I don't think that was a compliment.  You go on.. still trying to decipher the message accurately.  While that is still simmering on the back burner, you run into an old friend, who looks fabulous.  Suddenly, the previous comment and your friend looking fabulous collide and you don't feel so good about yourself.  You see all the time lines looking back at you in the mirror and you sink a little lower.  But you still have so much to do, you can't get bogged down with reality.  And on you go, on your feet all day, can't wait to get home and rest for a minute.  And then you walk through the door and see the clothes on the couch that need to be folded, the dishes that have piled up since breakfast, the shoes and backpacks left strung across the kitchen floor.  Take a breath, you are going to get through this.  Then come the kids.  "Mom.. I'm starving!  What is there to eat?"  (You didn't make it to the store, so now you will have to think up something creative they will have to actually make, like a sandwich.)  You suggest it, that doesn't sound good to them.  So you continue suggesting ideas until they finally decide to come look in the fridge themselves.  Then "Mom, I need this signed.. Mom can my friend come over?"  (I'm thinking...have you seen the house lately?) "Mom, when are you making dinner?"  And that little rest moment you thought you were going to have is over and you start thinking about what to make for dinner before the family dies of starvation.  Then dinner is on the table, the family is fed and clean up begins.  After clean up ends, then you realize the kids are watching tv and not doing their homework.  Turn off the tv, enforce homework, as you listen to the youngest one read to you, you nod off and wake up just in time for the ending and now it's time to gather for family scripture and prayer and hugs everyone is off to bed.  You realize you still have your own homework to do, but you are exhausted, you'll just get up tomorrow at 4 a.m. instead of 5 a.m. to try to catch up. You crawl into bed and reflect back on the day and all you can remember were the unkind words and how old you are and how you didn't make it to the store and how the clothes still need folding on the couch.  It's been a day.


 Every day, especially the bad ones, we just need to pause for a minute and take a breath and maybe another, but not too many because you got things to do, but stop and think about the good.  Think about the blessings.  Count at least 5 that happened that day.  Even on my worst days,  I could still find five things to be grateful for. 

And today the blessing I count is my Dad.  He passed away 5 years ago today.  I'm so thankful for the time I had with him.  My life has been immeasurably blessed because of him. In previous years when I got to this day, sadness would creep in and tears would fall.  But this year, I look back and am just thankful I had him in my life.  I couldn't have asked for a better Dad. Yes, there are still tears and yes I still need him, but undeniably gratitude is the overarching feeling in my heart.

On the very bad day that I  had this week, I remember walking by Christmas decorations in the store.  Usually those trinkets are just reminders of all the shopping and exhaustion that are coming my way and cause me to cringe, avert my eyes, turn my cart and run.  But instead of doing that, a thought of my Dad came and how he would have looked at these decorations and gotten excited, probably would have gone home and put on Christmas music and lit the firecplace.  I smiled.  The thought of him was the greatest blessing I counted that day.  Thank you Lord for giving me my Dad and for all the memories of him that I still get to cherish.

May we go forward in the battle of life counting our blessings, naming them one by one and may we be grateful for what the Lord has done

They Cared- and it showed.

The cop's lights were flashing as he slowly led the procession to my Grandpa's final resting spot.  I was back in the town where I grew up, Ada, Oklahoma.  The place where funeral processions are still led with a police escort and where many drivers still pull over to pay their respects.

 The last time I witnessed this phenomenon was 32 years ago at my Grandma's funeral, which took place in the same country town.  I didn't expect to see people still pull over to show they cared in this day and age, where everyone is in a rush to get to where they need to be.  Tears streamed down my face with each driver I saw pulled over, most of them in pick up trucks.

I thought about my own life and how busy it is, every time I get in a car I'm in a hurry.  I have places to go and things to do.  These people did too and yet,  they still pulled over to show they cared and I felt it deeply.  My brother and I wept as we passed vehicle after vehicle pulled over to the side of the road to pay their respects. They didn't know my Grandpa and they didn't know us, but that didn't stop them from feeling for what we were going through.

It made me look inward.  Was I that kind of person?  Do I put others first?  Do I stop when someone is in need?  Do I notice the person behind me and keep the door open for them?   Do I observe others and their daily struggles and do something that shows I care?

I realized my personal struggle to reach out to others was one of fear.  I feared I wouldn't say the right thing, or that they would reject my help and I would feel dumb or I would do something that offended them or they would cling on to me so tightly they would suck the life out of me.  So to be safe...in many instances... I did nothing.  But I learned doing nothing helps no one.  We have to step out of our comfort zone and step into the shoes of another and feel what they are feeling to know better how to help each other.

My heart was touched over and over with the kind gestures I witnessed with my Grandpa's passing.  The flowers sent by loved ones, seeing my cousins Scott/ Carolyn & Karen's name made me cry.  It wasn't their Grandpa who died, but that didn't stop them from showing they cared.  My friends, Julie and Debbie who drove from OKC to be there, it wasn't convenient they had to hurry back to their jobs right after the funeral, but they came anyway to pay their respects. To the ward members, friends,  Edna Mae, & the senior missionary couple who stopped by and brought meals- it meant a lot.  To my Mom, cousins and siblings, they all had to take time off work, make arrangements for their families while they were gone, not to mention the cost, they still came. And I cried when I heard about my cousin Susan who came and spent the last days with him, playing her guitar and singing by his bedside.  And my cousin Liz who couldn't come but spent hours writing the most beautiful and fitting eulogy for Grandpa. And to Steve, who spent the week at his sister's to give us his house so we could all be together. And to the one arm bandit- a famous cousin who performs the rodeo circuit, who stopped by from his busy schedule to come over and make us laugh and celebrate life.  They cared and I know it... because they showed it.   May I do likewise.