I have neglected to mention how much being a mom is a part of who I am on this blog. As much as I love teaching and serving, my own children bring me more joy than I ever thought possible. They know just when I need a hug after a long day. They know just the words to say that will make me smile no matter how frustrated I might be. At times, they know me better than I know myself.
Being a mother is the greatest blessing in my life. The fact that these amazing children are sealed to me for eternity is a blessing that is difficult to comprehend, but it is a blessing that I know is true.
I know teachers that stay at school long after the school day ends. I know teachers who bring so much work home with them that they might as well have stayed at school. I understand their passion for their work. I also understand their urgency to keep up with the demands of work. I feel that urgency. However, I am ever so grateful that I have my husband and children to keep me grounded. It is because of their love that I have my priorities exactly where they should be. It is true that sometimes grading takes me a bit longer than I would like, but if I have to choose between taking a few extra days to get papers handed back and a few extra hours with my children each night, I will always choose my children.
My children are my motivation in everything I do. I know that I am a better teacher because of them. I know that as much as I love them, I have a Heavenly Father who loves them even more than I do. I am so grateful for that knowledge.
I am grateful to be the mother of two amazing children.
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Monday, October 25, 2010
Love Them
I went to church with an old friend recently. She goes to a Christian church. The kind that has a band in the front and where people stand and raise their arms when they sing. This was my first experience at her church. It was interesting; different. It is amazing to me the difference between those who have the fullness of the Gospel and those who do not. But, that is not what I am going to write about today.
Knowing that I am Mormon, my friend was hesitant to invite me to her church. I was so glad that she did even though I am pretty sure she expected me to say no. I was visiting from out of town and did not bring church clothes with me. I told her that I did not have a skirt to wear. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "We don't wear skirts to church; you can wear your jeans and fit right in." This was a bit different for me and even though I was uncomfortable wearing jeans to church, I went with it. (It helped when she told me that I would look out of place if I wore a skirt...strange.)
We arrived late to the sound of a band playing exuberantly. It was interesting; everyone was standing and some were swaying their arms above their head in praise. The band was playing drums, guitar, bass, and keyboard. Everyone in the band was singing and most of the congregation. The words were displayed on a projection screen. Now, I can't read music, but I rely on the music notes when I sing. I had no idea the tempo, beat, or rhythm of the song, so I did not sing. But people did not care. They welcomed me and continued their own worship. Some sang, some did not, but all worshipped in their own way.
And then, as I took in the scene around me, something unexpected happened. My testimony of the Gospel was strengthened and all without a single spoken word. For, as I looked around at the strangers surrounding me, I heard Heavenly Father whisper to me. "These are my children, too. I love them just as I love you. Love them."
From that moment on, regardless of the words that were spoken or the songs that were sung, I became a better person because I was there. Even though I know that Heavenly Father loves all His children equally, it is so easy to get caught up in the truthfullness of the Gospel that we forget the simple things.
I am so grateful for the Spirit and I pray that I never forget these words or the feeling that accompanied them.
"These are my children, too. I love them just as I love you. Love them."
Knowing that I am Mormon, my friend was hesitant to invite me to her church. I was so glad that she did even though I am pretty sure she expected me to say no. I was visiting from out of town and did not bring church clothes with me. I told her that I did not have a skirt to wear. She looked at me like I was crazy and said, "We don't wear skirts to church; you can wear your jeans and fit right in." This was a bit different for me and even though I was uncomfortable wearing jeans to church, I went with it. (It helped when she told me that I would look out of place if I wore a skirt...strange.)
We arrived late to the sound of a band playing exuberantly. It was interesting; everyone was standing and some were swaying their arms above their head in praise. The band was playing drums, guitar, bass, and keyboard. Everyone in the band was singing and most of the congregation. The words were displayed on a projection screen. Now, I can't read music, but I rely on the music notes when I sing. I had no idea the tempo, beat, or rhythm of the song, so I did not sing. But people did not care. They welcomed me and continued their own worship. Some sang, some did not, but all worshipped in their own way.
And then, as I took in the scene around me, something unexpected happened. My testimony of the Gospel was strengthened and all without a single spoken word. For, as I looked around at the strangers surrounding me, I heard Heavenly Father whisper to me. "These are my children, too. I love them just as I love you. Love them."
From that moment on, regardless of the words that were spoken or the songs that were sung, I became a better person because I was there. Even though I know that Heavenly Father loves all His children equally, it is so easy to get caught up in the truthfullness of the Gospel that we forget the simple things.
I am so grateful for the Spirit and I pray that I never forget these words or the feeling that accompanied them.
"These are my children, too. I love them just as I love you. Love them."
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Maybe I should wear a Red Letter A
Not for adulteress...of course not, but maybe for something else...not sure what, I will get back to what the "A" could stand for.
There is a group of women in my ward that want me out as YW President. Mind you, they have not said anything to me or to my Bishop about this, but they have made their feelings known to other members of the congregation. Of course, they have also expressed this to their daughters. They have the right to tell their daughters whatever they choose. I do not begrudge them that. They have the right to even tell each other whatever they want. I do not begrudge them that either (although I do think it is a bit childish). These women have criticized me. They have criticized my worthiness for my calling (in spite of the fact that I have a current Temple recommend and regularly go to the Temple; they have seen me at the Temple. They know this). These women have done everything short of going to the Bishopric...really, I wish they would go to the Bishop. Then at least the rumors and backstabbing would stop. If they question my ability in my calling, why not go to the one person who can both address their concerns and release me?
What's ironic about this, is that I do not think that I am the best YW President. If these women who criticize me could see even an inkling into my heart, their criticism would pale in comparison. I am harder on myself than any outside person ever could be.
I know there are women who could do this calling better than I. There are women who have done better than I. However, I also know that the Lord put me in this calling, at this time, with these girls for a reason. I will not question His judgement. His faith in me is enough; I do not need to know the reasons why I am in this calling. I will do my best to do all that He expects and asks of me.
I am a targeted woman it appears. And regardless of how hard I try at my calling or how much I pray for inspiration. Regardless of how hard I try to follow that inspiration. Regardless of how many of the other mothers and daughters actually think that I am doing a good job. Regardless that the Bishop tells me that he knows that I am where I am supposed to be. Regardless of all of this...I am a marked woman.
Still not sure what the letter A should stand for, but I am thinking about putting one on my dress this Sunday.
There is a group of women in my ward that want me out as YW President. Mind you, they have not said anything to me or to my Bishop about this, but they have made their feelings known to other members of the congregation. Of course, they have also expressed this to their daughters. They have the right to tell their daughters whatever they choose. I do not begrudge them that. They have the right to even tell each other whatever they want. I do not begrudge them that either (although I do think it is a bit childish). These women have criticized me. They have criticized my worthiness for my calling (in spite of the fact that I have a current Temple recommend and regularly go to the Temple; they have seen me at the Temple. They know this). These women have done everything short of going to the Bishopric...really, I wish they would go to the Bishop. Then at least the rumors and backstabbing would stop. If they question my ability in my calling, why not go to the one person who can both address their concerns and release me?
What's ironic about this, is that I do not think that I am the best YW President. If these women who criticize me could see even an inkling into my heart, their criticism would pale in comparison. I am harder on myself than any outside person ever could be.
I know there are women who could do this calling better than I. There are women who have done better than I. However, I also know that the Lord put me in this calling, at this time, with these girls for a reason. I will not question His judgement. His faith in me is enough; I do not need to know the reasons why I am in this calling. I will do my best to do all that He expects and asks of me.
I am a targeted woman it appears. And regardless of how hard I try at my calling or how much I pray for inspiration. Regardless of how hard I try to follow that inspiration. Regardless of how many of the other mothers and daughters actually think that I am doing a good job. Regardless that the Bishop tells me that he knows that I am where I am supposed to be. Regardless of all of this...I am a marked woman.
Still not sure what the letter A should stand for, but I am thinking about putting one on my dress this Sunday.
Saturday, October 9, 2010
A Movie
Now, I know there are those that think this movie is immoral and inappropriate, and to those people I simply ask, "Did you understand the movie?" A student of mine watched this movie and explained that she was very bothered by the fact that Olive never "acknowledge" the wrong in her decision. She was also extremely upset at the "extremely" negative connotation of Christians in the movie. She also felt that there would be teenagers who would feel compelled by Olive's "immorality" and follow her bad example. I was intrigued by her assessment of the movie, and after seeing the movie, I am actually very disappointed in her assessment.
I loved the movie. I know, I already said that, but it is worth saying again. Did Olive make a bad choice. Yes. Did this bad choice lead to other bad choices? Also, yes. But, her choices were not because of an immorality on her part; her choices were actually based on her humanity. Was Olive "immoral"? I do not think so. She was compassionate to a fault. The girl simply could not handle people crying to her, and if there was a way to help people stop crying, she was up for it. But, it was not just tears that she wanted to help. She was willing to take upon herself the bad in order to keep the bad off of others. She was willing to make her life more difficult in order to make other's lives easier. This is impressive. Who among us will willingly tarnish our own reputation in order to save others? She was willing to do that. Not only was she willing, she embraced it. Seriously, she owned it. And in doing so, she learned a lot about herself, her family, and society as a whole. This movie, if one really pays attention, makes you think. I love that this movie challenged teenagers (and adults) to look at how they judge others. To look at how they judge themselves.
Now, I am not saying that Olive is not without fault. I am simply saying that she was willing to do what others simply were not. She challenged the (unjust and unfair) judgements of those around her (adults included). She did not judge others even when they judged her unfairly and quite harshly.
I also have to say that I loved the wit and intelligence of this movie. It had me laughing hysterically and thinking provocatively. I also loved the references to my favorite 80's movies: "Say Anything," "The Breakfast Club," "Ferris Bueller's Day Off," "Can't Buy Me Love," and, of course, "16 Candles." Truly brilliant!
I have been debating teaching "The Scarlett Letter"...maybe I will.
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Irony
I don't swear. I used to swear, but it has been a long time. Once I had children I decided that there were certain words that they did not need to hear their mom say. I was right.
Now, I work in a high school where I am surrounded by profanity. Profanity from students, profanity from teachers, and sometimes profanity from parents. I accept this, and I do not try to change anyone. I do not allow students to swear in my classroom, and I have no problems making a comment to students who swear in the hallway. In my near decade of teaching, the profanity I hear in the school on a daily basis has never prompted me to swear.
The irony, you ask? Well, the people who tempt me to swear are the very people that should not be tempting me to swear. They are the people who are supposed to be a charitable, compassionate, selfless, and service oriented people. Yes, that is right; the people who tempt me to swear are some of the very same people who I go to church with on a weekly basis. The very same people, who themselves do not swear.
Why is that? I wonder. I wonder a lot actually. Because it is not the genuinely charitable, compassionate and service oriented people that I see every Sunday who tempt me. It is those who I see every Sunday who are the demanding, judgemental, and selfish people who tempt me to swear. Now, don't get me wrong. MOST of the people I see every Sunday are wonderful. They are charitable. They are compassionate. They are selfless. They are truly service oriented. BUT, there is a small minority of people who go to church and just want more. They are the people who expect everyone to serve them. They are the people who never have enough and are the people who demand that you (or I) give it to them.
These are the people that cause those awful, nasty, four-letter words, to pop up in my head. And, as Young Women's President, these are the people who expect me to raise their daughters. These are the people who expect me to put my life on hold....to put my own children on hold....to bring their daughters to dances and to non-ward or non-stake activities. These are also the people who get mad when I say that I can't because I have plans with my own family this Friday or I have plans with my own family this Saturday. Or I have a work commitment.
I happily serve four hours on Sunday, three hours on Wednesday, not to mention Presidency meetings, Ward Councils, Stake Auxiliary Tranings, Girl's Camp, Trek, Youth Conferences...and I don't complain about those. I love my calling. I love serving. I love these Young Women. And when in the service of my calling, I will happily help in any way I can.
Now, I don't blame the parents for the words that pop into my own head. I am accountable for my own thoughts. But I DO ask these parents who cause yucky words to enter my brain.."Why don't you drive your own kids to the dance or to wherever?"
There you have it...I love my calling. I love my girls, but I may have just prompted my own release.
How is that for ironic?
Now, I work in a high school where I am surrounded by profanity. Profanity from students, profanity from teachers, and sometimes profanity from parents. I accept this, and I do not try to change anyone. I do not allow students to swear in my classroom, and I have no problems making a comment to students who swear in the hallway. In my near decade of teaching, the profanity I hear in the school on a daily basis has never prompted me to swear.
The irony, you ask? Well, the people who tempt me to swear are the very people that should not be tempting me to swear. They are the people who are supposed to be a charitable, compassionate, selfless, and service oriented people. Yes, that is right; the people who tempt me to swear are some of the very same people who I go to church with on a weekly basis. The very same people, who themselves do not swear.
Why is that? I wonder. I wonder a lot actually. Because it is not the genuinely charitable, compassionate and service oriented people that I see every Sunday who tempt me. It is those who I see every Sunday who are the demanding, judgemental, and selfish people who tempt me to swear. Now, don't get me wrong. MOST of the people I see every Sunday are wonderful. They are charitable. They are compassionate. They are selfless. They are truly service oriented. BUT, there is a small minority of people who go to church and just want more. They are the people who expect everyone to serve them. They are the people who never have enough and are the people who demand that you (or I) give it to them.
These are the people that cause those awful, nasty, four-letter words, to pop up in my head. And, as Young Women's President, these are the people who expect me to raise their daughters. These are the people who expect me to put my life on hold....to put my own children on hold....to bring their daughters to dances and to non-ward or non-stake activities. These are also the people who get mad when I say that I can't because I have plans with my own family this Friday or I have plans with my own family this Saturday. Or I have a work commitment.
I happily serve four hours on Sunday, three hours on Wednesday, not to mention Presidency meetings, Ward Councils, Stake Auxiliary Tranings, Girl's Camp, Trek, Youth Conferences...and I don't complain about those. I love my calling. I love serving. I love these Young Women. And when in the service of my calling, I will happily help in any way I can.
Now, I don't blame the parents for the words that pop into my own head. I am accountable for my own thoughts. But I DO ask these parents who cause yucky words to enter my brain.."Why don't you drive your own kids to the dance or to wherever?"
There you have it...I love my calling. I love my girls, but I may have just prompted my own release.
How is that for ironic?
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Last week of summer
Sadly, my summer break is almost over. Normally, I feel a tinge of excitement for the beginning of school, but for some reason, all I feel is sad that the summer went so quickly. I am simply not ready to send my own children back to school. I am not ready to start taking care of other people's children again. I have enjoyed this summer so much. We played and laughed. We went swimming. We rode our bikes. We toured historic and fun places all over Colorado. We visited great friends and had great friends come and visit. We saw family. We went on a fabulous vacation over seas and learned so much as a family. We even planned more vacations for this year.
We missed more church than we have in a long time. I think we missed four Sundays in our ward during the last 12 weeks, but with each Sunday missed we felt more grateful for the Gospel in our lives. We talked about what a blessing it is that the Gospel remains the same regardless of where we are in the world. We even ran into missionaries on our trip overseas. I cannot even begin to explain how happy it made me to see the familiar white shirts and black name tags. There was comfort in seeing the Gospel at work around the world.
But now, I have one more week until I go back to work. My children have three more days after I start. Wish us luck. We are not ready for summer to be over.
We missed more church than we have in a long time. I think we missed four Sundays in our ward during the last 12 weeks, but with each Sunday missed we felt more grateful for the Gospel in our lives. We talked about what a blessing it is that the Gospel remains the same regardless of where we are in the world. We even ran into missionaries on our trip overseas. I cannot even begin to explain how happy it made me to see the familiar white shirts and black name tags. There was comfort in seeing the Gospel at work around the world.
But now, I have one more week until I go back to work. My children have three more days after I start. Wish us luck. We are not ready for summer to be over.
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Mr. Right or Mr. Good Enough
I have read several blogs about this topic, and I have been reluctant to address it. However, I had an interesting conversation with the mother of one of my students and it made me think.
M just graduated from high school, and, while attending her graduation party, M's mother asked about my husband. M told her that I have the best husband who spoils me with purses, shoes, clothes, etc. (This is true, I generally am not a fan of shopping and my wonderful husband has great taste.) M also told her that I am "giddily in love" with my husband. Also true. Actually, this is more true than the fact that I am spoiled. My husband and I have been together since we were 17. I fall more in love with him every single day. The mother then told me that my relationship is one that M uses as a measure of what she wants in a boyfriend/husband. She said that M could always tell that my husband respects me, loves me, and would never ever hurt me in any way. I was both flattered and humbled by this. I had no idea that my love of my husband and his love for me was something she noticed.
I told the mother this, "My husband treats me like a queen, not a princess. There is a difference, and women need to know the difference."
It is in the connotation of each word that holds the difference. A princess gets anything she wants. She may be loved, but she has not earned full respect. She is seen as someone who needs guidance and direction. She is seen too often as helpless and in need of rescue.
But a queen is not helpless. She has earned respect. Not only does a queen have the love of her king, she also has his devotion, his loyalty, and his respect. I love the story of the 300 Spartans. The women of Sparta were unlike other women of the time period. They were respected and empowered by their husbands. Not only did the men fight for their kingdom; they fought for the honor of their wives.
This is what is means to have Mr. Right. To be respected. To be loved unconditionally. To be loved passionately. To be honored and cherished. To be worthy of the best and receive the best.
But that is not enough...there are plenty of Mr. Good Enough's that will offer all of these things, but the reverse is also true. For a woman to have Mr. Right means that she loves unconditionally. She loves passionately. She honors and cherishes her husband. I know too many women whose husbands worship the ground they walk on but who are also not truly happy in their marriage. It is simply not enough to be loved, a queen must love her king the way he loves her.
Why would a queen accept anything less than everything she deserves? To love and to be loved with an eternity waiting.
M just graduated from high school, and, while attending her graduation party, M's mother asked about my husband. M told her that I have the best husband who spoils me with purses, shoes, clothes, etc. (This is true, I generally am not a fan of shopping and my wonderful husband has great taste.) M also told her that I am "giddily in love" with my husband. Also true. Actually, this is more true than the fact that I am spoiled. My husband and I have been together since we were 17. I fall more in love with him every single day. The mother then told me that my relationship is one that M uses as a measure of what she wants in a boyfriend/husband. She said that M could always tell that my husband respects me, loves me, and would never ever hurt me in any way. I was both flattered and humbled by this. I had no idea that my love of my husband and his love for me was something she noticed.
I told the mother this, "My husband treats me like a queen, not a princess. There is a difference, and women need to know the difference."
It is in the connotation of each word that holds the difference. A princess gets anything she wants. She may be loved, but she has not earned full respect. She is seen as someone who needs guidance and direction. She is seen too often as helpless and in need of rescue.
But a queen is not helpless. She has earned respect. Not only does a queen have the love of her king, she also has his devotion, his loyalty, and his respect. I love the story of the 300 Spartans. The women of Sparta were unlike other women of the time period. They were respected and empowered by their husbands. Not only did the men fight for their kingdom; they fought for the honor of their wives.
This is what is means to have Mr. Right. To be respected. To be loved unconditionally. To be loved passionately. To be honored and cherished. To be worthy of the best and receive the best.
But that is not enough...there are plenty of Mr. Good Enough's that will offer all of these things, but the reverse is also true. For a woman to have Mr. Right means that she loves unconditionally. She loves passionately. She honors and cherishes her husband. I know too many women whose husbands worship the ground they walk on but who are also not truly happy in their marriage. It is simply not enough to be loved, a queen must love her king the way he loves her.
Why would a queen accept anything less than everything she deserves? To love and to be loved with an eternity waiting.
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