I have not written in a while because I have been crazy busy. I love my family, and I love my job. I love the Gospel. Things in my life are actually going quite well. I have re-prioritized some things in my life, and in so doing, I eliminated some unneccessary stress.
My wonderful children are amazing. I love watching them grow and learn. My oldest is about to edge me out in the height division, and my youngest is hot on his trail! It is a good feeling to know that I will soon be the smallest person in my house. That knowledge makes me smile. My husband loves me and tells me so each and every moment he gets. He is my strength. He is patient and kind. He is my example of Christ-like love.
I had the best visit from two dear friends in the last month. One in LDS and the other is not. Not that it makes a difference, but I just thought I would share. I look at my close friends and I am grateful that I have a few really close friends. Friends with whom I would love to spend a girl's weekend. The problem is that my closest friends are not friends with each other. Several do not even know each other. I am lucky enough to have met several women during the course of my life who I love and cherish. Each is unique and each came at a different time in my life.
There is BFF#1 who I met several decades ago as young children thrown into a world we didn't understand. We grew up together, and she is my closest and dearest friend. We have history. We have common ground. We are opposite of each other in many ways, but she is the one person I can talk to about anything, from parenthood to politics and religion. She kicks my butt when it needs to be kicked, but she loves me more than any other friend ever has and ever will. She lives too far away, but if she lived close...oh, how happy I would be! She is more than a best friend. There are no words for what she is to me.
There is BFF #2 who I met over one decade ago. We passed by each other so many times, but we always knew we were best friends. We are so similar. We laugh at the same things. She lives close. We go to movies, to dinner, to Starbucks and Baskin Robbins. We hang out each week. We share books. We get frustrated with each other and continue on. I can talk to her about anything too, but it is different than BFF#1. She is my sister in the Gospel and my best friend every day.
There is BF#3 who I met in my childhood. She is the constant cheerleader. The one who I cried to about boys before I met my husband. The one whose life has never been easy, but the one who is constantly worried about everyone else. She lives closer than she has in over 20 years, but it is still not close enough to see on a regular basis.
There is BF#4 who I also met almost a decade ago. We share a passion for books. We are so different, but we are kindred spirits as mothers, as wives, as women. She moved away years ago, but every time she comes to visit, we talk for hours.
These are four of the "girls in my circle". I am blessed to have each one of them. I have talked to each of them about going away for a "girl's weekend" and each to a different place. A place that fits me and fits them. From Catalina Island, to New York City, to Santa Fe, to Aspen, to Naples. Now, I just have to decide where to go first and with whom to go with!
I am blessed.
Monday, December 12, 2011
Saturday, October 8, 2011
Time Out for Women
This is the second time I have attended Time Out For Women. It is a two day event with inspirational speakers, music, and sisterhood. I was excited when I bought my tickets, but as the event approached, I started to feel dread.
I am not sure why. I had an amazing time the last time I went. I was going with two amazing women who I am lucky enough to call close friends. This was an opportunity for me to be with other women who share my faith. Why would I dread this?
I go back and forth in my struggle at church. Not in the Gospel. I love the Gospel. I know the Gospel is true. I have been struggling with the people. Well, at least that is what I thought.
This week, I learned that I was struggling with me.
I was teaching a novel in one of my classes this week, and it hit me. I have been having a "mini" crisis of faith, and I was pulling away from the thing that could help me the most. As I was teaching this novel, it hit me, and I said to my class, "Which is the best way to get through such a crisis? Do you draw closer and truly try to understand what you are struggling or do you turn your back and walk away?" The answer was obvious to both my students and to me, but in that moment of dissecting a literary work, I realized that walking away was exactly what I was doing. I was not turning my back on the Gospel, but I was turning my back on the people in the Gospel. Pulling away from the people in the church gave an opening to the adversary to place doubt in my head and in my heart.
So, with renewed excitement I went to TOFW. I listened to the women speak from the heart. I felt the Lord bless me in my own testimony. I did not connect to all of the speakers, but there were two who I felt were talking directly to me. I needed their words. I needed to feel their message.
Then, something even more amazing happened. In the middle of Merrilee Boyack's presentation, the power went out. Not just a flicker, but a full on black-out. How grateful I am for Sister Boyack's optimism. She walked to the center of the room and continued her presentation. It was amazing.
When she was finished, Hilary Weeks took to the piano and sang "I Know that My Redeemer Lives". It was the most beautiful rendition of my favorite hymn. There in the dark, the piano filled the hall and the Spirit filled my soul. I wept.
The room remained dark as the final speaker of the day, Emily Freeman, took the stage. The event was going to be cut short, and Sister Freeman was only going to bear her testimony. In the middle of her testimony, the lights came back. She started from the beginning. I know that I am not the only one who prayed for the lights to come back on to hear this amazing presentation. I needed to hear what she had to say.
At the end of the day, I felt the Spirit stronger than I have in a long time. I am so grateful for the events of this week that led me to TOFW.
I am not sure why. I had an amazing time the last time I went. I was going with two amazing women who I am lucky enough to call close friends. This was an opportunity for me to be with other women who share my faith. Why would I dread this?
I go back and forth in my struggle at church. Not in the Gospel. I love the Gospel. I know the Gospel is true. I have been struggling with the people. Well, at least that is what I thought.
This week, I learned that I was struggling with me.
I was teaching a novel in one of my classes this week, and it hit me. I have been having a "mini" crisis of faith, and I was pulling away from the thing that could help me the most. As I was teaching this novel, it hit me, and I said to my class, "Which is the best way to get through such a crisis? Do you draw closer and truly try to understand what you are struggling or do you turn your back and walk away?" The answer was obvious to both my students and to me, but in that moment of dissecting a literary work, I realized that walking away was exactly what I was doing. I was not turning my back on the Gospel, but I was turning my back on the people in the Gospel. Pulling away from the people in the church gave an opening to the adversary to place doubt in my head and in my heart.
So, with renewed excitement I went to TOFW. I listened to the women speak from the heart. I felt the Lord bless me in my own testimony. I did not connect to all of the speakers, but there were two who I felt were talking directly to me. I needed their words. I needed to feel their message.
Then, something even more amazing happened. In the middle of Merrilee Boyack's presentation, the power went out. Not just a flicker, but a full on black-out. How grateful I am for Sister Boyack's optimism. She walked to the center of the room and continued her presentation. It was amazing.
When she was finished, Hilary Weeks took to the piano and sang "I Know that My Redeemer Lives". It was the most beautiful rendition of my favorite hymn. There in the dark, the piano filled the hall and the Spirit filled my soul. I wept.
The room remained dark as the final speaker of the day, Emily Freeman, took the stage. The event was going to be cut short, and Sister Freeman was only going to bear her testimony. In the middle of her testimony, the lights came back. She started from the beginning. I know that I am not the only one who prayed for the lights to come back on to hear this amazing presentation. I needed to hear what she had to say.
At the end of the day, I felt the Spirit stronger than I have in a long time. I am so grateful for the events of this week that led me to TOFW.
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Sorting out thoughts
Recently in RS we were discussing the law of chastity. I admire the woman who taught this lesson as it is not an easy lesson to teach. She was completely up front at the beginning of her lesson and explained that this lesson can be tough, so she is going to grow straight out of the manual. I don't blame her. This is a touchy lesson.
She began. A discussion ensued. It was actually a good discussion...at first. We started talking about how to teach our children. That was when the discussion went straight to modesty. I understand the correlation between modesty and chastity; however, there are more pressing issues to focus on when discussing chastity and teaching it to our children. (For example: Why don't we talk about how to teach our children that just because something feels good, doesn't mean that it is good. Let's talk about how to teach our children to differentiate between lust and love.)
I digress...several women jumped on the modesty=chastity issue. With vengeance. All of the women in RS today have been through the Temple. They are all active and have temple recommends. (This rarely happens in RS which is why I noticed it.)
Modesty is not something that this group of women really need to discuss, but that did not stop several sisters from casting stones. The conversation started with talking about how little girls should not wear spaghetti straps and that mothers should not allow their daughters to wear such things. (This is where I started to zone out...I don't have daughters, and the modesty of toddlers is not something I worry about.) Then, things changed. One sister actually said that modesty is more than just the clothes a person wears. She said that some women in the ward choose to wear immodest "shoes, jewelry, and hair accessories." She went on to say that when women who are "Temple endowed wear such immodest shoes, jewelry, and hair accessories", she can't help but "wonder what they are looking to get."
Is anyone else confused by this statement? I was literally dumbfounded. Speechless. I could not believe what I was hearing. It caused me to wonder what do modest shoes look like? What exactly is a modest necklace? Yes, there are some shoes (thigh high-patent-leather-read boots, for example) that might cause a stir, but no one in my ward is wearing those to church, or outside of church for that matter. And if a woman does wear these "immodest" shoes, jewelry, and accessories, was this woman actually insinuating that there is something more scandalous going on?
There are many women in my ward who like to wear cute, different, and sassy shoes Each of these women are also the epitome of modest in dress. They are fashionable. They are trendy. They are modest.
Looking back I wish I would have spoken up, but I was just so taken aback by the comment. It makes me sad that the discussion focused so much on modesty instead of emotions. It was a lesson on chastity, not modesty. We all know the importance of teaching modesty to our children; modesty is not confusing. Emotions surrounding chastity can be, especially for teenagers. I was so saddened that the discussion took such a nasty turn as to judging accessories of women in the ward and little girls wearing spaghetti strapped dresses.
It made me wonder, have we really digressed so far that we are casting stones over accessories and toddlers? Very sad.
She began. A discussion ensued. It was actually a good discussion...at first. We started talking about how to teach our children. That was when the discussion went straight to modesty. I understand the correlation between modesty and chastity; however, there are more pressing issues to focus on when discussing chastity and teaching it to our children. (For example: Why don't we talk about how to teach our children that just because something feels good, doesn't mean that it is good. Let's talk about how to teach our children to differentiate between lust and love.)
I digress...several women jumped on the modesty=chastity issue. With vengeance. All of the women in RS today have been through the Temple. They are all active and have temple recommends. (This rarely happens in RS which is why I noticed it.)
Modesty is not something that this group of women really need to discuss, but that did not stop several sisters from casting stones. The conversation started with talking about how little girls should not wear spaghetti straps and that mothers should not allow their daughters to wear such things. (This is where I started to zone out...I don't have daughters, and the modesty of toddlers is not something I worry about.) Then, things changed. One sister actually said that modesty is more than just the clothes a person wears. She said that some women in the ward choose to wear immodest "shoes, jewelry, and hair accessories." She went on to say that when women who are "Temple endowed wear such immodest shoes, jewelry, and hair accessories", she can't help but "wonder what they are looking to get."
Is anyone else confused by this statement? I was literally dumbfounded. Speechless. I could not believe what I was hearing. It caused me to wonder what do modest shoes look like? What exactly is a modest necklace? Yes, there are some shoes (thigh high-patent-leather-read boots, for example) that might cause a stir, but no one in my ward is wearing those to church, or outside of church for that matter. And if a woman does wear these "immodest" shoes, jewelry, and accessories, was this woman actually insinuating that there is something more scandalous going on?
There are many women in my ward who like to wear cute, different, and sassy shoes Each of these women are also the epitome of modest in dress. They are fashionable. They are trendy. They are modest.
Looking back I wish I would have spoken up, but I was just so taken aback by the comment. It makes me sad that the discussion focused so much on modesty instead of emotions. It was a lesson on chastity, not modesty. We all know the importance of teaching modesty to our children; modesty is not confusing. Emotions surrounding chastity can be, especially for teenagers. I was so saddened that the discussion took such a nasty turn as to judging accessories of women in the ward and little girls wearing spaghetti strapped dresses.
It made me wonder, have we really digressed so far that we are casting stones over accessories and toddlers? Very sad.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Progress
I have neglected this blog for a bit, and I do apologize. I have actually had quite a bit to write about; I just have not had the time. School started for both my children and for me, and things just got a little out of hand for a while. In a good way, but still out of hand.
I love my new calling as a Relief Society teacher. I have learned so much about myself, about the Gospel, and about my family. With each lesson that I read, I have a personal experience to go along with the lesson. This has been a great blessing to me.
I don't know much about my mother's family. For reasons that are unknown, my mother refuses to talk about anything. Records are non-existence. Literally. My mother is from a third-world country and the original records for her family were destroyed in a war. This was before computers, so there are actually no records except those that are in my mother's head. Well, that is what I thought.
Let me backtrack. I have always felt a connection to my maternal grandfather. I have had many experiences where I felt him with me. I knew it was him. When I was a child, my mother would have these feelings and she would share them with me. She knew her father was my malaikat pelindung (guardian angel) as she put it. I have known this my entire life.
Recently, I started feeling his presence more. It is undeniable. And, as the lessons in RS focused on ancestors and the Temple, I knew exactly why he has been closer to me as of late. My oldest son turns 12 before the end of the year. I know that my grandfather is ready for his ordinances, and I know that my son is the one who needs do them on his behalf. My son knows this, too. He feels it just as strongly as I do.
But even with the surety of my feelings, problems remained. I know his name. I know he died. That is all. I had nothing else. My mother thinks she knows how old she was when he died, but even that is a guess. Her family lives across the world, and their memory is just as uncertain as hers.
So I was stuck, but as each day passed and each lesson approached, the knowledge that he was waiting pressed upon me. So, I started searching. Random searches. Anything I could find. I followed promptings that led me to initially promising information, but those turned out to be nothing.
Then, last week as I sat at the computer doing another seemingly endless search through scanned documents from my mother's home country, I had a thought. "Call your parents." I don't know why, but I ignored it. I heard it again. "Call your parents." So, I did.
I called my mom. She wasn't there; my heart sank. Then my dad asked what I needed. Reluctantly, I told him that I was completing pedigree charts for my sons and even though it was a long shot, I really wanted to be able to fill in the blanks of my maternal grandparents. We talked for a bit (my dad is kind of fascinated with genealogy), and then he said, "I might be able to help."
Confused, I asked how...the records are gone, mom doesn't remember. He told me he would do some checking and get back to me. I don't know why, but I was hopeful. He said he would call me the next day.
It was afternoon before I could check my phone, and sure enough there was a message from my dad. He said he emailed me and to check my email.
When I opened my email, the message was simple.
So very soon, my family will go to the Temple and do the work that has been long awaited for the family to which I owe my very existence.
"The Standard of Truth has been erected; no unhallowed hand can stop the work from progressing; persecutions may rage, mobs may combine, armies may assemble, calumny may defame, but the truth of God will go forth boldly, nobly, and independent, till it has penetrated every continent, visited every clime, swept every country, and sounded in every ear, till the purposes of God shall be accomplished, and the Great Jehovah shall say the work is done"
I love my new calling as a Relief Society teacher. I have learned so much about myself, about the Gospel, and about my family. With each lesson that I read, I have a personal experience to go along with the lesson. This has been a great blessing to me.
I don't know much about my mother's family. For reasons that are unknown, my mother refuses to talk about anything. Records are non-existence. Literally. My mother is from a third-world country and the original records for her family were destroyed in a war. This was before computers, so there are actually no records except those that are in my mother's head. Well, that is what I thought.
Let me backtrack. I have always felt a connection to my maternal grandfather. I have had many experiences where I felt him with me. I knew it was him. When I was a child, my mother would have these feelings and she would share them with me. She knew her father was my malaikat pelindung (guardian angel) as she put it. I have known this my entire life.
Recently, I started feeling his presence more. It is undeniable. And, as the lessons in RS focused on ancestors and the Temple, I knew exactly why he has been closer to me as of late. My oldest son turns 12 before the end of the year. I know that my grandfather is ready for his ordinances, and I know that my son is the one who needs do them on his behalf. My son knows this, too. He feels it just as strongly as I do.
But even with the surety of my feelings, problems remained. I know his name. I know he died. That is all. I had nothing else. My mother thinks she knows how old she was when he died, but even that is a guess. Her family lives across the world, and their memory is just as uncertain as hers.
So I was stuck, but as each day passed and each lesson approached, the knowledge that he was waiting pressed upon me. So, I started searching. Random searches. Anything I could find. I followed promptings that led me to initially promising information, but those turned out to be nothing.
Then, last week as I sat at the computer doing another seemingly endless search through scanned documents from my mother's home country, I had a thought. "Call your parents." I don't know why, but I ignored it. I heard it again. "Call your parents." So, I did.
I called my mom. She wasn't there; my heart sank. Then my dad asked what I needed. Reluctantly, I told him that I was completing pedigree charts for my sons and even though it was a long shot, I really wanted to be able to fill in the blanks of my maternal grandparents. We talked for a bit (my dad is kind of fascinated with genealogy), and then he said, "I might be able to help."
Confused, I asked how...the records are gone, mom doesn't remember. He told me he would do some checking and get back to me. I don't know why, but I was hopeful. He said he would call me the next day.
It was afternoon before I could check my phone, and sure enough there was a message from my dad. He said he emailed me and to check my email.
When I opened my email, the message was simple.
"This was tucked under in some of your mom's old paperwork from her country. I hope this helps. Dad."
Beneath this was the full names of both my grandparents and the year of their births and the year my grandfather's death. I wept in gratitude and felt the peace that comes with assurance. I now had the information I needed to do the work that needs to be done. I felt my grandfather's presence stronger than I have in a long time, and I also felt a new presence. I felt my grandmother standing with him ready for her work to be done as well.
"The Standard of Truth has been erected; no unhallowed hand can stop the work from progressing; persecutions may rage, mobs may combine, armies may assemble, calumny may defame, but the truth of God will go forth boldly, nobly, and independent, till it has penetrated every continent, visited every clime, swept every country, and sounded in every ear, till the purposes of God shall be accomplished, and the Great Jehovah shall say the work is done"
Saturday, July 23, 2011
When a student goes off to war....
I love visiting with former students. Watching as teenagers grow into adulthood is one of my favorite things about teaching. Tonight I had a visit from a former student. JJ joined the Marines right after he graduated and is being deployed to Afghanistan for a year. As proud of him as I am, it hurts to watch him leave.
We laughed a lot this evening. We talked about a lot of things. His family. His friends. The girls he is seeing. The things he has been doing while home. The preparations for war he is making. We talked about his job. We talked about my job. We talked about how much he misses his family and friends. About how much he misses being in my classroom with his friends. About how much I miss his class. But mostly, we just talked as friends. Friends who are different, but friends who are close in spite of (or maybe because of) those differences.
I told him the story of the students who told me that I like the "wrong" kind of students. Who told me that I should like the students who share my values: "the good kids". JJ is a young man who doesn't share my values. He drinks, he smokes, he sleeps around, he swears...a lot. But I love him. JJ told me it is a good thing that he wasn't there when the kids said that to me. It made him so mad that people would question which students I like. These kids didn't ask why I like certain students, they just said I liked the wrong ones. So, I also told JJ about the first students who asked my why I like JJ so much. JJ was curious, and he asked what I said.
I told him that I will cry if I tell him. He said, "Don't cry, but tell me." So I told him. "I love you because the moment you walked into my class something told me that you were special. I knew you had a heart of gold. I knew that you would crawl into my heart and stay there, and you did just that. I said that I know that you love me and if I ever need you, you'll be here. I also know that you know that if you ever need me, I will be there for you."
I told him that I have said the following to only a handful of kids, and he is one of them. I said, "JJ, I love you so much because even though I will never know the difference that I made in your life, I will always know the difference you made in mine. You have changed me and made me a better person and a better teacher. I like you and I love you because of who you are underneath everything you portray to the world. That hasn't changed since the moment you walked in my life."
JJ looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "I will always know the difference you made in my life, and I love you, too."
So now, JJ leaves for a war. A war that he is anxious to fight. A war from which I pray he returns.
I took a picture with him tonight. He said, "Are you afraid I'm going to die?" I said, "No, I just want your picture because you were a part of my day." In truth, I am terrified that JJ will die. It's not a feeling; it is just a fear. He is going to war. He is going to an active war zone. Of course I am afraid he won't come home.
But, I will sleep well tonight knowing that it is men like JJ who are fighting for freedoms around the world. He has a soul that is as true at God's stars. He has a has one of the most valiant hearts I have ever seen. I am proud to have been his teacher, and I am proud to be his friend.
We laughed a lot this evening. We talked about a lot of things. His family. His friends. The girls he is seeing. The things he has been doing while home. The preparations for war he is making. We talked about his job. We talked about my job. We talked about how much he misses his family and friends. About how much he misses being in my classroom with his friends. About how much I miss his class. But mostly, we just talked as friends. Friends who are different, but friends who are close in spite of (or maybe because of) those differences.
I told him the story of the students who told me that I like the "wrong" kind of students. Who told me that I should like the students who share my values: "the good kids". JJ is a young man who doesn't share my values. He drinks, he smokes, he sleeps around, he swears...a lot. But I love him. JJ told me it is a good thing that he wasn't there when the kids said that to me. It made him so mad that people would question which students I like. These kids didn't ask why I like certain students, they just said I liked the wrong ones. So, I also told JJ about the first students who asked my why I like JJ so much. JJ was curious, and he asked what I said.
I told him that I will cry if I tell him. He said, "Don't cry, but tell me." So I told him. "I love you because the moment you walked into my class something told me that you were special. I knew you had a heart of gold. I knew that you would crawl into my heart and stay there, and you did just that. I said that I know that you love me and if I ever need you, you'll be here. I also know that you know that if you ever need me, I will be there for you."
I told him that I have said the following to only a handful of kids, and he is one of them. I said, "JJ, I love you so much because even though I will never know the difference that I made in your life, I will always know the difference you made in mine. You have changed me and made me a better person and a better teacher. I like you and I love you because of who you are underneath everything you portray to the world. That hasn't changed since the moment you walked in my life."
JJ looked at me with tears in his eyes and said, "I will always know the difference you made in my life, and I love you, too."
So now, JJ leaves for a war. A war that he is anxious to fight. A war from which I pray he returns.
I took a picture with him tonight. He said, "Are you afraid I'm going to die?" I said, "No, I just want your picture because you were a part of my day." In truth, I am terrified that JJ will die. It's not a feeling; it is just a fear. He is going to war. He is going to an active war zone. Of course I am afraid he won't come home.
But, I will sleep well tonight knowing that it is men like JJ who are fighting for freedoms around the world. He has a soul that is as true at God's stars. He has a has one of the most valiant hearts I have ever seen. I am proud to have been his teacher, and I am proud to be his friend.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Back from Vacation!
I just got back from Europe with my wonderful family. It was such a remarkable experience to see other cultures and walk among thousands of years of history.
I have a confession to make...we did not go to church while we were there. We were there for two Sundays and opted to spend those Sundays exploring both the English and French countryside. I really did want to attend at least one LDS service while we were there, but it just did not work out that way. Thankfully, my family was able to feel the Spirit in a myriad of other ways on our vacation.
As a matter of fact, I had many spiritual experiences while I was there. I teach my own children how to recognize the Spirit, and I am always humbled when they share their experiences with me. Because I cherish this so much, I also like to share some of my spiritual experiences with them. It is wonderful to sit and learn from my children.
So today, dear readers, I want to share with you three spiritual experiences from my trip:
I sat in awe of Poets Corner in Westminster Abbey. I could have spent days sitting among the graves of some of my literary heroes. I could almost hear the inspirational words coming from the tombs. I felt so much peace as I sat on the floor and closed my eyes. Inspired simply does not cover how moved I was. I felt a clarity of my own future goals that I have not felt before. I felt confirmation of the Spirit on so many aspects of my life. I felt encouragement from the silent residents of Poet's Corner. This is a place that to which I will return.
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We went to Giverny and toured Monet's Gardens. Of course it was crowded; it is a tourist attraction after all, but that did not take away from the spirituality of the place. My family was able to find quiet places where few people decided to go. To walk among the flowers, waters, streets, and landscape that inspired Monet's talent was incredible. It is so incredible to see so many varieties of flowers, trees, and shrubs in one place. There was a harmony among the nature that words simply cannot convey.
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On the streets in Paris we ran into two sets of missionaries. They were both older couples in the center of Paris. I knew before I saw their missionary badges that they were missionaries. There was an unmistakable joy in their countenances. Each couple had been out a little over a year. They shared their experiences learning the language and loving the people. It made me even more positive that I will go on a mission with my husband when we are older.
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I have a confession to make...we did not go to church while we were there. We were there for two Sundays and opted to spend those Sundays exploring both the English and French countryside. I really did want to attend at least one LDS service while we were there, but it just did not work out that way. Thankfully, my family was able to feel the Spirit in a myriad of other ways on our vacation.
As a matter of fact, I had many spiritual experiences while I was there. I teach my own children how to recognize the Spirit, and I am always humbled when they share their experiences with me. Because I cherish this so much, I also like to share some of my spiritual experiences with them. It is wonderful to sit and learn from my children.
So today, dear readers, I want to share with you three spiritual experiences from my trip:
I sat in awe of Poets Corner in Westminster Abbey. I could have spent days sitting among the graves of some of my literary heroes. I could almost hear the inspirational words coming from the tombs. I felt so much peace as I sat on the floor and closed my eyes. Inspired simply does not cover how moved I was. I felt a clarity of my own future goals that I have not felt before. I felt confirmation of the Spirit on so many aspects of my life. I felt encouragement from the silent residents of Poet's Corner. This is a place that to which I will return.
We went to Giverny and toured Monet's Gardens. Of course it was crowded; it is a tourist attraction after all, but that did not take away from the spirituality of the place. My family was able to find quiet places where few people decided to go. To walk among the flowers, waters, streets, and landscape that inspired Monet's talent was incredible. It is so incredible to see so many varieties of flowers, trees, and shrubs in one place. There was a harmony among the nature that words simply cannot convey.
On the streets in Paris we ran into two sets of missionaries. They were both older couples in the center of Paris. I knew before I saw their missionary badges that they were missionaries. There was an unmistakable joy in their countenances. Each couple had been out a little over a year. They shared their experiences learning the language and loving the people. It made me even more positive that I will go on a mission with my husband when we are older.
I could write for days about my experiences. I loved teaching my own children and learning along with them. It was the perfect vacation and one that I cannot wait to do again.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Betrayal
This may not make much sense, but I have to write it if I am going to sleep tonight.
Someone I care for very much was betrayed today. I am frustrated. I am angry. I am hurt on his behalf.
My friend "George" was worried about his friend "Charlie". Charlie and George have been friends their entire lives, and George knew that he had to tell someone his concern. So what did George do? He shared that concern with another friend "Lucy" and me. (We are also incredibly close to Charlie and are in the position to do something.)
George asked both of us to do with the information what we felt was right, but he pleaded with us not to use his name. He asked us to leave him out of it. I understood the gravity of the situation. Action needed to be taken; however, that action could be taken without involving George.
Actually, action was taken, without ever mentioning George's conversation with us. Things were moving along quite nicely, until three days ago. Lucy became angry at me. (I am still not sure why she was angry.) She never called me to talk about it. She didn't return my call after I heard she was angry. But, make no mistake, she was mad and wanted to hurt me. So what did she do?
To hurt me, she told Charlie exactly what George told both of us. She betrayed the confidence of George to get back at me!!!??!!! Then, Charlie called George and confronted him. (I learned this evening that neither Charlie nor George had anything to do with her anger at me...still not sure what I did, but they apparently had nothing to do with it.)
Did she do this because knowing how much I love George, she thought it would hurt me to see him hurt?
I don't understand. She loves George, too. Why would she hurt him to get back at me?
I feel awful. I did nothing wrong, yet I feel responsible for the backlash on George. I love George very much. He is one of the most important people in my life, and I am heartbroken that his trust was betrayed.
Lucy did not need to say anything. Things with Charlie were moving along as best as they could. But now, everything is a mess. Charlie is mad. George feels betrayed. I feel awful and responsible.
And Lucy feels...what? Happy? Vindicated? I saw her today and her smile was one of sweet revenge.
How does hurting two people we both care about make her feel better?
I am angry beyond words at Lucy. So angry that I want nothing to do with her...ever again.
It was a difficult day to put on a happy face so my own children could not see the anger. They felt the tension. They know something is not right. And I really do not want to tell them what happened. I want to spare them this particular meanness in the world.
Someone I care for very much was betrayed today. I am frustrated. I am angry. I am hurt on his behalf.
My friend "George" was worried about his friend "Charlie". Charlie and George have been friends their entire lives, and George knew that he had to tell someone his concern. So what did George do? He shared that concern with another friend "Lucy" and me. (We are also incredibly close to Charlie and are in the position to do something.)
George asked both of us to do with the information what we felt was right, but he pleaded with us not to use his name. He asked us to leave him out of it. I understood the gravity of the situation. Action needed to be taken; however, that action could be taken without involving George.
Actually, action was taken, without ever mentioning George's conversation with us. Things were moving along quite nicely, until three days ago. Lucy became angry at me. (I am still not sure why she was angry.) She never called me to talk about it. She didn't return my call after I heard she was angry. But, make no mistake, she was mad and wanted to hurt me. So what did she do?
To hurt me, she told Charlie exactly what George told both of us. She betrayed the confidence of George to get back at me!!!??!!! Then, Charlie called George and confronted him. (I learned this evening that neither Charlie nor George had anything to do with her anger at me...still not sure what I did, but they apparently had nothing to do with it.)
Did she do this because knowing how much I love George, she thought it would hurt me to see him hurt?
I don't understand. She loves George, too. Why would she hurt him to get back at me?
I feel awful. I did nothing wrong, yet I feel responsible for the backlash on George. I love George very much. He is one of the most important people in my life, and I am heartbroken that his trust was betrayed.
Lucy did not need to say anything. Things with Charlie were moving along as best as they could. But now, everything is a mess. Charlie is mad. George feels betrayed. I feel awful and responsible.
And Lucy feels...what? Happy? Vindicated? I saw her today and her smile was one of sweet revenge.
How does hurting two people we both care about make her feel better?
I am angry beyond words at Lucy. So angry that I want nothing to do with her...ever again.
It was a difficult day to put on a happy face so my own children could not see the anger. They felt the tension. They know something is not right. And I really do not want to tell them what happened. I want to spare them this particular meanness in the world.
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