Thanks and Giving

If you know me in real life, you will know that I am usually very active.  I like to work out, I like to play with my kids, I keep a clean house, I love to cook, and bake and I have hobbies.  I write.  I never stop talking.

I'm pregnant right now, and I have been sick, sick, sick.  Part of it is nausea (blech), hyper-smell which makes the nausea worse, and a large helping of dizziness and exhaustion.  Apparently these are all normal, because my body is drastically increasing its blood supply for the new baby, but it all comes together to make me feel like garbage.  I haven't been super chipper about it.

In fact, I've been downright depressed at times.

I take showers sitting down.  I spend almost all day in bed.  I'm sick before I eat, and after I eat, and sometimes I get to taste things a second time.  All in all, my days drag into weeks, and into months, and since I don't really know when it will be over, I get a little down about it.

Today, after another depressing sit-down shower, something struck me very clearly.  I have been richly blessed with a body that functions properly.  Every time we've wanted to get pregnant and have a baby, we've been blessed with one immediately.  (Most times the very first month.)  All but one of my pregnancies have gone very well, sickness aside.  I know the sickness means my body is making progesterone, a hormone that's important to a baby's growth.  All in all, I have been richly blessed, in every single aspect of my life.

It got me thinking about all the things I'm thankful for this Thanksgiving season.  I'm well known among my family members for not loving Halloween (yes, I'm a Halloween scrooge.  I do decorate my house, for the record, and I let my kids get dressed and go out, too.  It's just, I don't love the greediness that I feel permeates the whole holiday!) But anyway, as much as I get annoyed by Halloween, I ADORE Thanksgiving!  I love the idea of counting all your blessings and being happy for the things you have.  So here is a list of things that, this Thanksgiving, I am grateful for.

1. I love my husband.  I know this is where I'm supposed to list God first.  I love God, I really do, and I know all my blessings come from him, but He gives me those blessings, in large part, through my husband.  I have the best husband I have ever seen or heard of, and I don't mean that as hyperbole.  He puts me first, always.  He is patient.  He is kind.  He is considerate, and caring.  He is funny and smart and responsible.  He never gets upset at my shortcomings and he loves me with all my flaws.

He swore when we started dating that he would take care of me, and at the time, I thought it was sweet, but un-necessary.  I mean, I was a smart, responsible, independent lady.  I didn't need someone to care for me.

Except I have needed that every single day of our marriage, and he has always been there to honor his promise.

Some days he's been the only thing that kept me going.  I've been sick, I've struggled with pregnancy, with babies, with job difficulties, with friend or family drama.  I've made mistakes and struggled with them.  Every single step of the way, for every single difficult thing I've surmounted, my husband has been there, lifting me up, carrying me over, supporting me without judgement and with unfailing love.  I have trouble expressing the vast emotion I feel for him in the medium of language, but I will tell you it is overwhelming, it is unending.  I love this man.  He is my greatest blessing.

2. I love my God, the gospel, and the Holy Ghost.  I have truly felt my Father in Heaven's love for me, and the love of his Son, my Savior.  I've felt these things from the Spirit of God, which each of us can experience.  I have received inspiration and revelation for the course of my life and that of my family.  I have had concerns resolved, problems solved, pains salved, and inspiration to direct my words and actions.  I have felt the light of forgiveness and the warmth of loving guidance from a brother and father who care.  I am so grateful for the peace and joy the gospel of Jesus Christ and its restoration have brought to my life.

3. I am grateful for my children.  They are exhausting.  They are irritating.  They are time consuming and often tedious.  They can make me doubt my own worth and sanity.  But they are also beautiful little spirits I have been given the responsibility to watch over and protect, to rear and train, here on earth.  I'm grateful for that stewardship and the joy they bring to me.  I don't believe babies naturally know how to love, or what it is.  I have been truly blessed to help teach my children what it means to serve, to love, to care, and to grow.

I am constantly amazed by their capacity to understand, to strengthen our family in ways I never expected.  Their little personalities shine out, each one different, each one divine.  I can't wait to meet this last little addition, and to round out our family.  You sacrifice a lot when you have children: your time, your belongings, your peace, and your sanity most of the time.

You don't realize when you get started that it is the sacrifices you make that are the richest blessing of having children.  The children are their own people, but in being who they are, they transform you into something better: a parent.  You grow as a person while you help them grow.  I am so grateful for the  opportunity I have to be a mother.

4. I cherish my extended family, and dearest friends. I have been blessed with an angelic mother, a devoted father, and wonderful in-laws.  I have a brother and sister here on earth that I am so lucky to have, and to live near.  I have another brother who is no longer with us here on earth, and I have a brother whom I've sort of adopted to fill that hole.  I am so grateful for the sealing power that allows us to remain sealed to our parents and to our spouse after this life.  I'm grateful for the power of resurrection, that one day we will be reunited with our loved ones who have passed.  I'm grateful each and every day for the time I can spend with my family and my dear friends, and the joy and fullness they bring to my life.  I am grateful for the joy it has brought me to see each of my siblings with an eternal companion, as happy with that companion as I am with mine.

It's funny how sometimes bad things help you appreciate the good.  My mom (and mother in law) couldn't have been such an amazing support to me if I hadn't gotten quite so sick.  It's my difficulty in pregnancy that allowed my gratitude for their unfaltering service.  I might never have been as close to my "adoptive" brother Brian if Jesse hadn't died.  I might never have developed such a close relationship with a sister who is five years my junior if she hadn't been my rock during a painful and difficult divorce.  I might never have had a cheerful, beloved Linsey for a sister in law, if we hadn't both endured law school.  (Ok, not as bad as a death or divorce, but if you've been through law school,  you'll know it's a special kind of misery.)

This list could go on and on and on, and in my mind, it will.  But I want to leave you with this thought today.  If you are going through a dark time, a painful time, or a difficult loss, pray for God to let you see the joy, the beauty, and the blessing that will develop from that.  I have a firm belief in God's principle of compensation.  We lose things and we suffer so that we can grow, so that we can improve, so that we can comprehend.  God will always bless us richly during and after these dark times if we will open our eyes to see it.  Open your eyes and look for the blessings around you.  I promise you they are there, or they will be if you will exercise a little faith.  This Thanksgiving season, it is my hope that all my friends and family will be surrounded with their blessings, filled with their love and gratitude for them, and comforted with the joy that comes from the light and love of God in their lives.      

They Stare at Each Other

One of my favorite lines in The Little Mermaid is when Scuttle the seagull is explaining to Ariel that humans used to "Stare at each other all day.  Got very boring."  I sometimes wonder what it looks like to outsiders when we are all staring at screens all day.  Pretty boring, I imagine.

Today, Emmy has been staring at an iPad screen for over an hour.  She is absolutely taken with this game called Monster Petshop.  Emmy is only four.  She has almost no concept of time.  When she asks me how long something is, I tell her, "It's five spongebob shows."  Or something like that.  Otherwise my answer means almost nothing to her.  Well, on this monster petshop game, you have a shop that sells various monsters.  In order to get them, you buy or make eggs, and then to go select an egg to incubate.  Emmy doesn't know how to get an egg started, so she will ask me or her dad to do it.  Then she will sit and stare at it until it starts to "wiggle" so she knows to hatch it.  The egg has a timer above it that tells you how long it has.  Some eggs only incubate for an hour.  Others for four hours, or even twelve.

She sat and stared (despite my repeated suggestions that she turn it off and come back) at the game for an hour while her egg incubated, asking me at intervals how much longer it would be.  Finally, the hour long incubation ended and the anticipated egg hatched!  She was giddy, and didn't complain a bit.  Of course, the second egg I incubated for her has a 4 hour incubation period.  She is still staring at it, lovingly, and asking me how much longer it will be every five minutes or so.  It's a little annoying, but she's so patient and happy about it.  (I won't address how much the music from this game is beginning to annoy me. Ha!)

It has come to my attention that we are much like a child with a game we don't understand, but on a slightly larger scale.  A few weeks ago, I was only a month and a half pregnant.  I was feeling fine and working out every day.  Then one day, I started bleeding.  The time I had bled before, I lost the baby.  So I panicked.  I had a baby shower to go to that day, and after sobbing in a fetal position about the bleeding and what I figured was a miscarriage for a few hours, I got myself together and went to a baby shower to coo about the upcoming children my cousin would have.  That entire time, the bleeding continued, and I felt so much sadness for this little baby I hadn't even known I'd have for very long.

I fretted, I worried, I panicked, I sorrowed.  I could not look away from the egg that was incubating. I just sat, staring at it.  Then I arrived home from the shower.  I said a little prayer before going back inside, and sitting in my car, I felt the Spirit of God so strongly I began to cry, but this time with joy instead of fear.  The Holy Ghost told me that it would be okay.  The baby would be alright.  Everything was fine.  A great peace took hold of my heart that day, and to this day, weeks and weeks later, I can still feel that peace.  I knew then that a loving Heavenly Father would tell us, "It's okay to look away from the screen.  All will be well."

I also know that sometimes, all is not well.  Sometimes a bleed means a miscarriage.  Sometimes we really are sick and God won't take away our pain, but He will still be there to give us peace and speak to our souls.  It must be annoying to have us incessantly asking how much longer, when He knows we can't understand His full answer, but He will still tell us we can look away from the screen.  He will remind us to go on living our lives, and not let this one thing take over.  Currently I'm in the middle of being sick from the pregnancy, the baby that was in fact fine.  I have been sick for a long time now, and I don't know how long it will last.  My inclination is again, to stare at that egg.  To obsess over it.  To fret, and worry, and sorrow about my life right now.  A loving Heavenly Father is there to remind me, to look away from the screen.

I guess my inspiration today was that we all need to look away from the things that we can't change right now.  Try to live your life with peace and joy, and if you ask, God will help you with that.  He will tend to the things you can't change, the things that take an inexplicable amount of time, if you will let Him.  He can see and make sense of that little timer, the one we don't yet comprehend.  If you place your faith in Him, He will help you gain perspective and find the joy in the things around you that are ready and that can fulfill you now, instead of worrying over things you can't change.

Are You a Semmelweis?

My husband told me a story last week, one he said every medical student learns.  It was about a Doctor named Semmelweis.  This doctor was an OB, a doctor of obstetrics.  He was working at the First Obstetrical Clinic at Vienna General Hospital back in 1846.  It was essentially the free hospital at the time, so many of the women who went there had no money.  There was an affiliated hospital (Second Obstetrical Clinic) run by midwives instead of physicians.  Then, just like now, you'd think most women would have preferred to be seen by someone with greater training... so they'd want to go to the physician hospital, right?

Except, Dr. Semmelweis discovered that was not the case.

Women were literally having their babies in the street to avoid going to the First hospital to deliver.  They were begging on their hands and knees while in labor to be admitted and deliver in the second one.  Why?  Because the first had a reputation of the mothers DYING after delivery.  So Dr. Semmelweis looked into the numbers.  Lo and behold, 18% of the women were dying after childbirth from "childbirth fever" when they were delivered on the physician side, but the number was much lower on the Second Hospital side, around 5%.

Dr. Semmelweis decided to discover the cause.  I won't share the entire story because it gets long, but he came to the conclusion eventually, after a lot of effort, that it was because the doctors were examining cadavers as part of their medical schooling and then going straight over to deliver babies.  He developed a chlorinated lime protocol, requiring the students and physicians to cleanse their hands with this solution after studying the cadavers and before delivering the babies.  The number, with implementation time, dropped to ZERO women dying from this "childbirth fever."

He wrote a book on his findings, convinced he could share this idea of cleaning your hands of these unclean particles with the world.  It was an astonishing failure.  See, the prevailing belief at the time was that the body had four humors and you had to literally bleed patients to set their body back in balance.  The various differing symptoms of the dead women provided scientific "evidence" to the other physicians that Dr. Semmelweis's explanation was far too simple.  It couldn't have been "one disease" from "uncleanliness."  After all, these doctors weren't unclean.  The illnesses weren't their fault!

Eventually, angry that no one would listen, Dr. Semmelweis began to call the people who disagreed "irresponsible murderers."  They locked him up in an asylum, where he died at the age of 47.  (I should note that it is likely he had some kind of illness, like early onset Alzheimer's because he had dealt his entire life with people's disbelief, but only became belligerent near the end).  In any case, he died at an early age, still in disrepute.  It was not for several more decades, until Pasteur and Lister could explain germ theory, that anyone believed in Semmelweis's protocols and people realized: HE WAS RIGHT, all along.

How could you possibly be a Semmelweis, you ask?  What is Bridget writing about now?

I've been thinking about this story for a while.  I've been contemplating how faith, and religion in general, has fallen out of favor.  I can't tell you how many very intelligent people have told me that "you just can't prove there's a God.  And if there was a God, why haven't we seen Him? Or heard from Him?"  I guess this blog post is my answer.

Semmelweis couldn't prove germ theory.  Science hadn't advanced far enough yet.  I also can't prove to you that there's a God.  I personally believe that one day, I will know.  I believe that one day, probably after I've died, I'll see him.  Who knows, maybe Christ will come again while I am alive.  But one day, I will see God, and I will know.  You will, too, I think.  But until that time, I am going to keep telling people about the good that God brings to my life.  It's undeniable.  It's not numbers and charts and data, it's not even specifically quantifiable like Semmelweis's data was, but it's just as clear, and it's just as true.

God brings me peace.  He brings me joy.  His gospel brings my family light and truth.  He has given us the power of prayer, and the gift of the Holy Ghost that we may all know, if we will ask, that He lives.  We also have the gift of Jesus's atonement, that we may all be forgiven for our sins and become clean through His sacrifice, and after His example.  I promise you that even when it's hard, even when people don't believe you, or it's not popular, truth is truth.  Light is light, and God will bless your life if you will believe in Him and act in His name.  I know it to be true, just as Dr. Semmelweis knew that disinfectant saved lives.  God has saved my life, and He continues to do so.  Let him save yours, too, that is my prayer today.

Over and over and over and over... that's the key

I haven't written a blog on here in a while, and a few people have even asked me about it.  I usually write about things that have occurred to me during my day to day life.  I'll get an idea, and I'll put a note in my phone and then later I'll circle around and write it up.  I've had just as many ideas in the past few weeks, but I've struggled with a strange feeling lately, a persistent belief that I have nothing new to say to you, to the blogosphere, or to anyone in general.

Today, for instance, Emmy (my exceptionally high maintenance and melodramatic four year old) was crying up in her room half an hour after bedtime.  I ignored it for a minute, thinking it was nothing (it almost always is.)  But then that mom-conscience, you know, the one that kicks in when you want to feed your kids cold cereal for dinner, started pinging me.  Go check on her, go check on her, go check on her.  She's sad.  If nothing else, you can tell her everything is okay, and make sure she's fine yourself.

Don't go up there, the rational side of my brain argued.  If you do, she will re-engage and never go to sleep. This is a very typical battle for a mom, by the way.  Rationality versus the mom-conscience.  Inevitably, the mom side wins.

I went to see what she needed.  Turns out, her thumb hurt.  (Not from anything I could see.)  But I went downstairs for Neosporin and a band-aid and took it up.  I bandaged and kissed her, and tucked her in again.  She finally went to sleep.  As I came downstairs, it occurred to me that our Heavenly Father does this all the time with us.  We have a problem that He might not even see because it's not real, or it's not obvious, or it's so minor we really ought to just suck it up, but He still listens to our problem, salves our souls and tucks us in.  He always listens, He always checks on us, He always cares.

After this very routine experience, I thought, hey, maybe there's a blog in this somewhere.  Then that same thought I've been struggling with lately resurfaced.  It's basically the same thing I've said umpteen times on there.  "Look at this hard thing with my kids, and look that's how God sees us."  I didn't even bother making note of it.  Instead, I moved on and made a peach cobbler.  Yes, I have a baking addiction.  That's an unrelated problem.

It hit me a few moments ago that perhaps today's blog is boring and repetitive and nothing new.  In fact, I've read the Bible, the words of God's prophets, over and over and over.  I could take the position that there is nothing new there, and reading it is a waste of my time.  But then I would miss reading the story of Job again.  It's one of my favorites, and every time I've read it, I've come away with a new insight into the struggle of that great man, and a renewed resolve to endure through my (much more minor) trials.  I'd miss the tragic story of David.  I'd miss the story of Noah and the flood.  The stories from the New Testament, and my favorites, the stories about the life of Jesus Christ.

It hit me pretty hard that right now, I'm at a point in my life where I spend a lot of time with young children, so the Lord spends a lot of time showing me how I appear to Him through that lens.  I need it, too, because I have a graduate degree.  I have had a successful career.  I'm in danger of feeling like I'm "too smart" to listen to God, or to read the Bible.  I need to be humbled, to realize that I can't do things on my own, and that I still need to rely on Him.  Many of my readers don't have young children, and I think that's just fine.  I will try to avoid blogging about the same thing over and over, but when I do, I've come to the conclusion that it's okay.

Do you know what words show up over and over and over in the scriptures?  God.  Jesus.  Repent.  Forgive.  Hearken.  Sin.  Love.  Humble.  Atone.  They show up over and over because just like with our small children, we big old adults still need the repetition of scripture and sermons to help us remember what matters.

Today's blog is nothing new.  In fact, it's not my goal to be new.  It's my goal to help remind us all of the things we already know.

You already know that your joy comes from your family, but it's easy to lose sight of that when the kids are howling about how dinner stinks (when you spent five hours on it) and no one wants to practice the piano, and you have a mountain of laundry to wash and fold.

You know we're supposed to forgive others, but it's hard to do when that person you know keeps saying things that hurt your feelings over and over and over.

You know we need to be charitable, to share with others, to be free with our blessings and substance, but it's hard to do it when you feel like the person who needs help could be working harder, or providing for themselves.  It's the ones who are the least lovable who need charity the most, but we need reminding about that now and then.

You know that you need to work in order for your faith to work, but it's so hard to spend the free time you have working on something, and so much easier to complain that God didn't give you that blessing you wanted.

I guess my point is this: yes, sometimes it feels, in my blog, or at church, or when you're reading the scriptures, like it's all the same thing over and over and over.  The reason it feels that way is because we're human and we need to see and feel and hear the same thing over and over and over or we forget it entirely.

I'll leave you with this (repetitive) message.  I went up and let my daughter know I loved her and she was going to be okay, in spite of how tired of dealing with whining I was.  How much more willing to reassure us is our Heavenly Father?  He is always there.  Sometimes He will reassure you with the Spirit.  Sometimes he will use other people in your life.  Sometimes it will just be the synergy of things around you coming together in miraculous ways, but if you look for it, you will see Him, you will feel Him, because He is there with figurative bandaids and Neosporin, looking to reassure you that it will be okay.  Say a little prayer and then open your eyes and wait for His presence.  He won't let you down, I promise.  

Stop that, right now!

The other day, my youngest child Tessa was climbing up on a chair, standing up on it, and then plopping herself down on the seat.  Then she would laugh and laugh.  She's two years old, and she has a broken arm and this whole thing made me very nervous.  I knew if she landed wrong, she could jar her arm and it would hurt.  If she landed very wrong, she could extend the break throughout her bone, which would work significant harm on her.  Knowing all this, I asked her to stop.

She informed me that she wasn't going to hurt herself, after all, she'd just done it and didn't get hurt.

This is a common response at my house.  A day or two later, my seven year old child, Eli, was tossing a ball around the family room.  I have asked him to stop throwing things in the house every single day since he could walk.  (Maybe it's embedded in the y chromosome.)  This time was no different.  I asked him to stop.  He countered that he threw things all the time, and everything was fine.

A few moments later, he broke a one-of-a-kind wooden vase.

I have been thinking ever since about how we all do the very same thing with our Heavenly Father all the time.  He looks down on us, omniscient, and loving.  He doesn't want us to fall off the chair and compound our break, causing a splint to be exchanged for a surgery with a pin and a full body cast.  He knows that our actions could lead to a broken vase, or in almost all cases, something far, far worse.

He has sent prophets to give us scriptures.  He has made those scriptures readily available in this day and age, and even more helpful in some ways, we have local church leaders.  You may call them pastors, or deacons, priests, or bishops.  You might have a "visiting teacher" assigned to you, or just a friend from church who comes by to see how you're doing.  You may have family members who come to talk to and uplift you.  You may run into missionaries who share thoughts that help remind us of God's rules.  These are like the voice of a concerned parent, trying to help you minimize your pain here on Earth, by making righteous decisions.

Each and every one of us can hear, if we are listening, the voice of the Holy Ghost, reminding us not to throw the ball in the house.  Of course, that ball isn't really a ball.  It could be substance abuse.  It could be stealing, lying, cheating, or adultery.  It could be milder, but no less insidious.  It could be gossip, or unkind words.  It could be so many, many things, but our Heavenly Father has his rules in place for a reason.

How about a few examples?

If you abuse alcohol, you do and say things you shouldn't. You can be unkind, selfish, or depressed.  You can harm yourself, and everyone around you.

If you gossip about others, you could hurt their feelings, or wind up hurting your own.  You could lose a friendship and bruise a heart.

If you stop reading your scriptures for a day, it can turn into a week, and then a month.  Pretty soon, you may start thinking you don't need God's counsel, or His word, because you are doing fine on your own.  If you skip church, ditto.  God's way is not the easy way.

If you fail to give generously to others, and to God's church, you risk becoming selfish, and you begin to worry only about yourself.  You may also forgo the blessings God wants to shower you with, because he can't reward a greedy heart.

If you take offense at something someone says (whether they mean to offend you or not), you could harden your own heart, and lose the opportunity to receive the teachings of the Holy Ghost, or fail to hear his admonitions.

Which leads my to my final point.  If you take away nothing more from this post, please remember this part.  If you want to lead a life of joy, a life where you turn to God, you must listen to Him.  This past week, I had something happen that made me angry.  I was frustrated, and I got mad about something I shouldn't have, something tangentially related to the gospel of Jesus Christ.

I had two options after this thing happened.  I could have stuck out my lip, and insisted that I was justified in being mad.  I could have continued to throw that ball until I broke everything around me.  I really wanted to do that, because I was mad.

Or I could shut out the world, and read in my scriptures, searching for an answer to my frustration from my Heavenly Father.

I chose the second option and I ignored what the world was telling me, and listen instead to my Heavenly Father when He told me something through the Holy Ghost.  When the Spirit spoke to my heart this week, my anger evaporated, because His message was one of love, of clarity and of peace.  My father told me not to stand in that chair and plop myself down over and over.  He told me that instead of saying, "I've stood here once and I'm fine," I should trust in Him to know that there were risks, risks I couldn't see or calculate in what I was doing and feeling.

I sat down.  I stopped throwing the ball.  I hearkened to the counsel from my Father in Heaven, and I have already felt the blessings of that decision.  So if there's a rule, a commandment, or a request that the church, or the gospel of Jesus Christ makes of you that you disagree with, or you chafe against...

Let it go.  Stop kicking against the pricks and listen to a loving parent who only wants the best for you.  I promise that He knows and loves you and He wants you to be safe, happy and peaceful.  You just have to turn to Him enough that you can hear His counsel.  And then you have to listen to it.

God is also your Loving Father

I was working at a law firm in Austin the first time I realized that many people, of many faiths, do not think of God as a loving being.  I was talking about my faith with a friend and she marveled when I told her that I consider Jesus to be my older (and perfect) brother, who loves me, and that I consider God to be my loving and caring Heavenly Father.  She commented that it was an interesting way to look at things, and that it must be comforting to believe that Heavenly Fathers loves you and will take care of you.

Sometimes I forget.

I've been struggling for the past ten years or so with something that I think is a good and appropriate goal.  It was about ten years ago that I began writing in earnest.  I finally finished my first novel about eight years ago.

It stunk.

No, I mean, it was really, terribly, horribly awful.

I revised it about fifteen times.  Seriously.  It got longer.  It improved.  It was still really, truly bad.  I wrote another (very bad) book.  I spent untold hours trying to find an agent to pitch these books to editors so they could be published.  I daydreamed that I would be an author, not just a writer.

I received hundreds and hundreds of form rejections.  I wanted to give up.  But finally, a small press showed an interest.  They asked me to read a book on self-editing and give my first novel a little spiff up.  I did that.  They still passed.  They told me to send them anything else I came up with in the future.

Write another book?  After I'd already done two?  I thought they must be kidding, but I did it anyway.  This time, I did some research, and read a few books on how to write a novel.  This third book was better.  Much better.

It was still pretty bad.  I went to a conference with it.  I found a lot of agents who wanted to read it.  They ultimately all passed.  I wrote yet another book.  (Book four, in case you're keeping track.)  I wrote half of book five.  I kept revising book three, the mediocre one.  It improved.  I kept trying to get an agent.

Finally, in January of last year, I landed an agent.  I was over the  moon.  My time had finally come.  I could almost feel the many copies of my book I would buy once it was in print.  I could sense that success was just around the corner!! I worked with my agent to do two more major overhauls of mediocre book three.  I knew that with this book, I would break out.  She submitted it to a great list of up and coming editors.

No one wanted it.

The saddest part?  After that book flopped, I sent my agent book four, and a newly revised book six.  (Book five is still only half written...)  My agent didn't like books four or six very well.  I sunk into a book-writing depression.  I basically took six months to mope.  My book hadn't sold, and my agent wasn't excited about my other projects.  After spending countless hours, and writing not one, not two, not three or four, or even four and a half, but FIVE full books... I still had absolutely ZERO to show for it.  Forget about how I felt every time a friend asked why I wasn't published yet.  I wanted to yell at them: because I'm a HUGE LOSER, duh!

I was in the process of moving out here to League City when I received a very strong prompting.  God offered me a deal.  The Holy Ghost whispered to my heart that I had been working on books for myself, but that God needed me to start a blog and share my ability to write (limited though it obviously is) to bear my testimony.  He promised me that if I would do this, I would find success in my other writing endeavors.

I did it.  I started this blog last year, because I had faith that He would follow through on his promise. Of course, God's timeframe is not our timeframe, but I had faith it would happen.

I took the time to revise books four and six.  I reworked them over, and over, and over.  I have probably done more than a dozen rounds of revisions on each book.  I hired an editor to help.  I have made every single change I could think of (or my agent and editor could think of).

Those two books both went on submission to editors this spring.  I was so optimistic.  Surely this was my moment, the time when I would get something published.  I told friends and family that they were on submission and to pray for me and/or cross their fingers.  I got busy early this summer and wrote book seven.  My hopes and faith were high.

Then I found out that five out of six editors considering book four had passed, all for the same reason (not relevant.)  My agent and I talked and I was tasked to go back and revise it.  Again.  I have done that, but somewhere in the middle of those revisions, I got pretty low.  I was crying, I was whining, and I was generally feeling pretty sorry for myself.  Whitney (my husband) tried to cheer me up, and he offered me a Priesthood blessing.

I turned him down flat.

I told him I have had faith for ten years, and look where it's gotten me.  I had no faith left.  I said that I wasn't sure if faith could really help me, because after ten years of faith and a lot of hard work, I was still at square one.  I meant every single word.  I was having a crisis of faith (like a little baby) over not getting exactly what I wanted on my timeframe.  I was angry and depressed at the same time.  I alternated between feeling like a failure, and feeling upset that I had worked so hard and God hadn't fulfilled His end of our bargain.

The very next night, I sat down to read scriptures with my son, Eli, and my daughter Dora.  Of course, we read Moroni chapter seven.  I was merrily reading along when I reached verse 26.  "And as surely as Christ liveth he spake these words unto our fathers, saying: Whatsoever thing ye shall ask the Father in my name, which is good, in faith believing that ye shall receive, behold it shall be done unto you."  I know James has a similar verse in the New Testament.

That verse hit me like a ton of bricks.  If I'm asking for something good, and I have faith, I will receive it.  I believe my goal is a good one.  That means either my faith is lacking (clearly!) or it's not time yet.  Last night, I received an answer to a prayer I never sent up to heaven.  I felt as though a loving Heavenly Father reached his hand down to me and patted me on my unbelieving and unworthy little head.  He knows I'm impatient.  He knows I'm not perfect, but He's willing to work with me anyway.

I do not know what timeframe God is on with my writing, and I don't know what He will ask of me yet, but I will just keep plodding along, doing the best that I can and trying to improve my faith, and I do believe that God will help me to reach my goal of one day being published!  I have renewed faith that He has a plan for me.  I promise you that whatever your struggle today, tomorrow or next week, God loves you too.  He is up in heaven, just hoping you will call.  Kneel down today and do it.  He will reassure you through the power of the Holy Ghost that He loves you, and that with a little faith, and with His help, all things are possible.

Are you Flip Flopping out over something?

I posted this photo on my Facebook feed in two places on Sunday morning.  I posted it on my regular feed, and I posted in a Facebook group for Doctor's wives ("LDW").  They are not members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day saints.  

I posed the following question: Are these appropriate to wear to church?

I expected that a few people might get on and say, "Oh sure."  Or that a few people might say, "No, probably not."  I did not expect that over 100 people would respond to the post in the doctor's wives group, and that over 50 people would comment on the post in my personal feed.  To give you a frame of reference, I only have 724 "friends" and my normal post usually generates around five or if I'm lucky, ten comments.  

The interesting thing to me is that on the LDW site, I read all the comments.  100 out of 100 comments said "YES, wear them."  Some said, "Why are you even asking?" To which I responded that typically people don't wear flip flops to my church congregation, but that since I worked in the two hour nursery program for toddlers, I was tired of wearing heels.  I explained I was wondering whether these were fancy enough to wear.  Their comments changed in tenor at that point, and lots of them commented (without knowing what church I attend) that "if your church doesn't allow me to wear something comfortable while serving, you should find another church."  

When I read through the comments on my personal feed, the feedback was very different.  Although roughly 2/3 of the comments agreed with the unanimous tone of the LDW website, a very decided 1/3 of the commenters firmly believed these were flip flops, and that flip flops were unacceptable.  People said that I would not want to meet God wearing flip flops (we believe that our church is His house) and that I should not wear them to church.  NOW, let me be clear on this:  I am not even one percent upset by these comments.  Indeed, I specifically asked for these people's feedback and opinions.  Not a single one was given viciously, and in fact, I love every one of the people who posted these things.  This is not in any way a rant.  I am not angry, hurt, offended, or anything like unto it.  

But the responses did get me thinking.  On this topic, there are obviously some very established feelings and opinions.  I used to always bear my testimony on the first Sunday of the month that I believed the "gospel" to be true, not the "church," because the church includes people and they are not always correct.  I felt at the time that this differentiation was a critical one.  People are wrong and they get confused and they let you down.  While those things are still true, my opinion about it has changed.  People do let you down, they do get confused, and they do get offended.  But people are also the absolute REASON for Christ's church.  Without the sick, there is no need for a physician.  We would not need a Savior if we were not all flawed.  

This morning, I was going to the grocery store.  As I frequently do, I chose the wrong pair of shoes for my fickle four year old.  She wanted to wear her flip flops, not her crocs.  (Oh dear, let's not all get talking about crocs and their acceptability.)  My Emmy proceeded to sit on the floor and freak out about my choice of footwear.  It hit me all at once that we are just like my adorable toddler.  We get hung up sometimes on things that might not really matter.  Is showing our Heavenly Father that we love Him and respect His house and the day He has set aside for worship important?  Absolutely.  Not a single soul meant to imply that it wasn't important.  

But I'm not sure my little question merited so much interest, so much time, so much (possible) angst. I don't think people were that upset with me, but I do think this might have been a sore point for some  people in the past, judging by comments.  That got me thinking--how many other things like this have left us flipping out over something that doesn't matter?  Something that our Heavenly Father does not care about, and we should not care about, but we spend a lot of time on it anyway?  

Is there anything in your life right now that has you Flip Flopping out?  

I'd like to leave you with a final thought.  The Savior says the following in John Chapter 14:

   

 27 Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.

The next time you or someone else you love starts to Flip Flop out over something, pause and take a breath.  God wants us to have His peace.  He would not want us to be so worried about things that don't matter.  There are so many things in this life that do not matter, and I think whether you flip or flop your way to church is one of them.  You need to show your respect to God, and church is not at all like going to the beach for the morning, but if you wear comfortable shoes and you sit reverently, sing soulfully, and wear respectful clothing, I doubt He really cares what is on your feet.  I think there are innumerable other things out there like this, things we flip out about.  The biggest problem is that we are losing something Christ gave us whenever we do.  

We are losing His peace, we are losing His Spirit, and we are allowing our hearts to be troubled.  So if the answer to my question above is yes, then take a step back.  Say a little prayer and let not your heart be troubled.  His peace is a gift.  Use it. 

Striking a Balance: Things I've learned from ants...

A few weeks ago, my kids decided they needed ant farms.  My son brought me enough money for one, and I ordered it for him.  My daughter was also desperate for one, so she brought me money and I ordered her one, too. 

They arrived a few days later and the ants followed soon after.  These aren’t ant farms like the ones I grew up with.  Instead of sand in a very tall skinny ant farm, these are much thicker and shorter, and they’re filled with blue gel.  The gel is interesting: it is both food and water for the ants, and they can move it just like sand.  Lights in the farm, coupled with the transparency of the gel allow you to see the ants in their tunnels anywhere in the ant farm.  This means that when I dumped the ants into the ant farm, they immediately had both food and water.  They didn’t need anything else to live.  And yet, they immediately began to make tunnels. 

I thought over the next few days about our lives, and the parallels.  Many years ago, humans worked from daybreak until sunset in order to meet their basic needs.  In this day and age, most people can earn enough to meet their basic needs in just five days a week, roughly eight hours a day.  Life has grown easier.  Some people can earn a living in even less time. In fact, if we don't work at all, the government will make sure we don't starve.

But like the ants, humans need work to be happy.  There have been a lot of times during my life that I’ve thought I would be better off if I could only get a break.  I have been desperate for vacation, for recreation, or for some kind of time off.  That being said, I have always known that the break was beneficial specifically because I had been working hard.  Like those ants, we need to be working, building tunnels, being productive to find purpose in this life.  We may have food and water, but the human soul requires more. 

I thought this was the lesson the ants were meant to teach me.

I was wrong. 

As the weeks have passed, I have noticed something else.  The ants never take a break.  They attack the building of more tunnels with a single minded ferocity, dare I say, as though they have tunnel vision.  I do strongly believe that work helps us grow, and it shapes us.  It brings us joy.  However, I have also felt very strongly that we may all be as misguided as those little ants sometimes.  We can become focused on building tunnels to the exclusion of all else.  The type of tunnel we are building varies widely from person to person.  Your tunnel may be money, facebook, career advancement, notoriety, home remodeling/decorating, or acquisition of baby clothes. I have been struggling with buying too many baby clothes lately... HA!  There are so many, many tunnels we can build.  Only you can identify yours.

In my life, I’ve been building tunnels lately.  And missing out on time I could be spending focused on what matters most: scripture reading, prayer and time with my family.

The scriptures are quite clear on this point.  In the Book of Matthew, the Savior says, “Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you.” 

He doesn’t say that you can’t build tunnels, but we are instructed to build up the kingdom of God first.  In the same chapter, Christ also says, “Lay not up for yourselves treasure upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven…for where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.” 

This week, my point is very simple.  You need to work, and you need to be productive, but a balance must be struck.  Build tunnels, but leave yourself time for what matters even more.  To me, that means you go to church, you read your scriptures and say your prayers, and you make time for family.  You talk to your family, teach them the things of God and have fun with them.  These are the things that build God’s kingdom. 

Take a lesson from the ants.  Build those tunnels, but take a bit of time to thank your Heavenly Father for His help in building them, and spend some time enjoying them and the world around you, too.

Kids do such a great job at remembering to enjoy what is right in front of them.

Are you being a Brat?

We have a hard and fast rule at my house. If you want something, you must ask for it politely.  If you scream and throw a fit, I will not give it to you, even I would have otherwise said, "Sure."

This rule is applied frequently, because my kids whine and throw fits a LOT.

Once my children have thrown a tantrum, they must earn the right to have the item I would have GIVEN to them gladly otherwise.  Sometimes I put them in the corner, sometimes they need to clean up a mess, sometimes they need to issue an apology.  There is no set punishment, because no two situations are exactly similar, but my kids don't seem to realize that they are making their life harder with one thing: their own bad attitude.

We had some friends over for dinner on Sunday night and my friend Kendra's husband commented on this precise topic.  His daughter came in demanding something rudely, as all children do.  He made a face with which I am very familiar, a face that said, "What a brat."  Then he said, "I wonder if our Heavenly Father ever feels this way about us.  I hope he's more temperate than we are."

Of course he's correct that Heavenly Father is more temperate than we are, but He too is training us, teaching his children.  He, too, cannot simply give us something when we throw a fit about it.  I worry sometimes (a lot) that I am raising four kids so spoiled that they will not function well in the real world.  He is raising us, His children, to fulfill the measure of our potential, and that potential is so vast!! We can become something beyond our expectations, beyond our wildest dreams.  I think that very often, we are tremendously hindered by our attitude, just as my children are.

I think back on the Old Testament story of Moses.  He led his people, through many mighty miracles, out of enslavement in Egypt and on an exodus to a promised land.  When they were on the edge of that land, one member of each of the twelve tribes went to scout it out.  They all came back with the report that the promised land was beautiful, bounteous, and wonderful.  Ten reported that to go and take it for themselves would be death--the inhabitants were giants and would destroy them.  Two scouts said to go and take what God promised.

The people did not have enough faith.  They threw a tantrum and refused to go.  I imagine they looked something like this.

Maybe not quite as cute.

In any case, in return for their lack of faith, their bad attitude, and their poor behavior, God took away his promise for that generation. They were doomed to wander in the wilderness for 40 years.  Egads!

How often do we end up wandering in our lives, and how often do we place blame anywhere and everywhere but where it belongs: squarely on our own shoulders?  Don't get me wrong.  A lot of bad things just happen!! I am not saying if you are having trials, they are your own fault.  We will all have trials, because it is how we grow, how we change and strive and improve.  The issue here is how we handle those trials.

I went to a church meeting last night (Enrichment) and spoke with the Relief Society President in our ward.  What a lady!! She casually conveyed how she went from being a mom, to an airplane mechanic, with no prior knowledge or expertise.  The short story is that her husband passed away.  She had to find work, and someone offered to help her go to school to do something she knew nothing about and had no interest in.  It was hard, it didn't make sense and I am sure she wondered why she was bothering to learn something like this at all.  She was in the middle of her life, not at the start.  If I had been where she was, I would have been thinking, "Why me??"  She did it anyway, and when talking to me, there was not a scrap of complaint!  She is truly an example of someone with a uplifting and beautiful attitude.

I look around myself and see innumerable blessings.  I have a beautiful family, with the best husband on earth.  I have four healthy, active, busy children.  I have a lovely home, and we live comfortably.  We go on fun vacations, we live near family.  My husband has a job.  I have been blessed with a healthy body and a fine intellect.  All of these things are rich blessings.

Sometimes I get so caught up in the things that I want, and how long I feel I've been waiting or working for them, that I forget to be grateful for what I have and to keep my attitude in check.  Here is my reminder for all of you. Tonight, think about all your blessings, all your joy.  Think of all your Heavenly Father has done for you,  You will obviously have lots of things to ask for over your lifetime, and that's okay.  Your Father in heaven wants to bless you, just as you want to give good things to your children and family and loved ones.  But try and be patient with His timeframe, and try to be humble and grateful when you ask.

I think even God appreciates a good attitude, so let's fix ours, okay?  :-)

If you stumble... you don't have to fall

I didn't post on Sunday because I had just come away from General Conference (a two day Mormon event where all the "general authorities" give talks that are inspired and beautiful).  I didn't feel like I had much to add that anyone really needed to hear, especially in the wake of all the wonderful and uplifting things I had spent two days trying (due to small children) to listen to and absorb.

I have mentioned before that I have four youngish kids.  I say youngish because my youngest is two and on her way to being potty trained...Hallelujah!  Yesterday, after bath time, she was running in the bathroom and stumbled on a towel on the floor.  She would have landed flat on her face, but I caught her and helped her steady herself.  That one thing, that smallest event in my day, really made me think.

I think I have mentioned before that I have had a rash of family and friends lately who have either left the church entirely, or who have sort of faded in their faith.  Obviously this makes me really sad.  The interesting thing is that if you talk to them, if you really drill down with them to discover when this lack of faith began, it comes down to a careless towel on the floor every time, something small, something easy to remedy, something they could have reacted to in two very different ways.  Their reaction at the time made all the difference.

What in the world is Bridget talking about now?

I mean this: a tiny little thing is always the root of our own separation from God, at least initially.

If you're still scratching your head, let me try and explain.  I have a dear friend who went to BYU.  She met and married another member of the church.  She had a faith in God and a belief in our Savior Jesus Christ.  She was married in the temple, which we believe means she was married for eternity, and not just for the time she is here on earth.  I am not exaggerating when I tell you this friend of mine shone like a star.

Until one day, someone at church said something that hurt her feelings.  She didn't want to go back the next week.  Then she started a new job that had her working on Saturdays and she felt like she had no weekend time at all.  So she stopped going regularly.  Within a few months, she was going far less than she was staying home.  Her husband came up with excuses not to go, too.  After all, going to the lake was more fun, and his wife was going, so he should go with her.  They began spending more and more time with people who did not worship Jesus Christ.  They began to feel like they were missing out because they didn't drink alcohol, because they gave money to the church instead of spending it on themselves.  The rules of the gospel began to be a burden, they began to chafe.

And my friend wondered, why in the world was I part of this church anyway?  She and her husband both stopped going, and now they're not sure if religion is anything more than a myth society tells to explain away things they couldn't figure out on their own.

I have another person, also dear to me, who has a very different start to his story.  He is one of the smartest people I know.  He studies things out, he prides himself on his intellect, and rightfully so.  Although intelligence is a gift from God, you can choose to waste it, or you can work hard to hone and develop it.  This is a person who has worked very hard in honing his intelligence.  He has gone far in his education, and also in his career.

He heard something about the church that bothered him on an intellectual level.  He began to study the gospel from an academic perspective.  Instead of reading the scriptures to feel of the Spirit, and to receive an affirmation that God lives, that God loves him, he spent his time studying things written by man.  He began to search things out to determine whether they could have happened according to our scientific version of events.  He studied the story of Moses and determined that what the Bible says took place is a scientific impossibility.

He stopped spending his time praying.  He stopped believing that the people at church who had such a lower level of education than he did had something to teach him.  He began to doubt at every turn.  He now believes that the things he has studied prove, beyond a doubt, that the church cannot be true.  He believes that the gospel, that the doctrine of Christ, are mere niceties that we have taught one another to encourage proper social behavior.

Both of these people stumbled over something different.  Both of them wound up in the same place.  Flat on their faces.  Alone, without the uplifting hand of God, and the support of the Spirit, to keep them from pain, from sorrow, from despair.

Belief in Jesus Christ, specifically, the belief that He lived, that He led a perfect life, that He died, and that He lives again, is not something that you study in school, that you examine and that you determine logically is true.  It is actually a crazy story in almost every sense of the word.  You cannot take the flawed and mortal mind of a human and puzzle out the existence and nature of the divine, of the eternal, of the Holy.  It would be like my two year old trying to make pancakes alone: a disaster.  She has the capacity to do it one day, but only if she does what I tell her to do, if she listens closely to me as she grows, and if she trusts in what she can become by following my lead.

Our loving Heavenly Father has given us scripture, He sent us a Savior and He has outlined a way for us to return, and in doing so, to become more like Him.  But we must do it with our heart, following his directions and not relying on our own minds and our own abilities to do it.

I want every single person reading this to think of anything that might be bothering them, or that might be bothering anyone they know right now, large, or more especially, small.  For me, it could have been feeling like I was dealing with a calling for too long (I am over that), or it could be my reaction to someone who was rude to me.  It could be a struggle with a historical event, it could be a problem with the poor way in which you perceive your Priesthood leaders handled an issue, or continue to handle it.  Now think about that problem, all the hurt it caused you, all the problems you have with it.  I am going to (figuratively) reach out my hand to you now just as I did for my daughter yesterday, and I know the Spirit of God will bear me out.

Let. It. Go.

That problem is a wet towel on the floor.  It is small, harmless and insignificant, but it can cause you to trip, to fall flat on your face, if you let it.  It can cause you significant pain, and it can separate you from God.  Or you can reach up and take His hand.  You can let go of your anger.  If you've already fallen on your face, you can choose to look up, and take that hand now.  It is never, ever, ever too late.  His hand is always outstretched.  It may take the form of the hand of a friend, or a family member, but take it.

Even if you stumble, recognize that everyone does, because small things happen all the time.  But see that they are small.  They are minor, these things.  Do not let any single item, event or person separate you from your God, from your faith, from your family and friends who love you, or from the joy your Heavenly Father wants to bless you with.  Let us support you, help you and uplift you.  You won't be sad you took that step of faith to let it go, whatever it is.  You won't be sad you decided to use your heart to study out the things of God, instead of relying only on your mind.  I promise.

You're a Lazy Bum If You Have No Faith

Most of you have probably heard the phrase "faith without works is dead."  It comes from James 2:20.  But wilt thou know, O vain man, that faith without works is dead?

I have been thinking of that sentiment a lot lately.  I recall the first time I really got jazzed about having "faith."  I had been taught at church that it was believing in God, believing in His power and in His ability to bless our lives.  Then I went to school one day, in Jr. High, and realized I hadn't studied at all for a test.  I'd forgotten all about it.  Darn.  I closed my eyes immediately and earnestly prayed from my desk that I would still get an A.  I had complete and total faith, the faith of a child, that God would help me.  I would still ace this test, I knew it.  

I got a B-.  

All things considered, I probably should have been pretty happy with that.  Haha.  But I will tell you that it really shook my faith.  I mean, I had prayed and believed God would help me.  I was missing a vital piece of information.  Without doing work, without doing anything, all you have is belief, not faith.  Faith without works is not faith.  If you do really well and you haven't worked at all for it, there's a word for that, too.  It's LUCK.  I really think the entire story of the first book in the Book of Mormon, first Nephi, could be summed up with one phrase: get out and work hard, or you don't have faith and you won't be blessed.  

For those of you not familiar with the Book of Mormon, of for those of you who are, but who are scratching your heads and thinking, "what is crazy Bridget babbling on about now?" let me explain.  In the first book (section) of the book of Mormon, you read about the story of a guy named Nephi (the hero) and his family.  His father is a prophet, and you get a fairly comprehensive understanding of the fact that being a prophet's son might not be completely awesome all the time.  Lehi, the prophet (also known as Nephi's dad) is living in Jerusalem, but the Jews are pretty wicked at the time.  He goes out to try and teach his neighbors and friends, but it doesn't go well.  To put this in a modern day perspective, let's consider.  

How would you feel about going door to door and pointing out the weaknesses of all your neighbors and friends?  I can imagine it going something like this.  "You, fine next door neighbor, you are an alcoholic."  Door slams.  

Next door.  "You, good friend, you spend too much money on things that don't matter."  Punch to the nose.  

Now, one more.  "You are spending too much time away and letting your kids rot in front of the television."  Spat upon.  

Oh fine, just one more today.  "You should not be having an affair."  Right hook to eye.  

You get the picture.  Lehi was a righteous guy in a wicked land and it was not a popular place to be, because no one really takes kindly to someone telling them they need to repent.  In any case, God tells Lehi he needs to relocate his entire family.  Jerusalem is being destroyed, and if they don't book it out of there, they will be destroyed, too.  God has a land of promise in store for Lehi's family, if only they have enough faith.  

At this point, Bridget (that's me) would be inclined to say, "But wait!! I've been faithful.  I am willing to remain faithful, here in my home, with my nice things, and my little fluffy dog and my car and my clothing and my swimming pool. Please reward my faith with a continuation of those blessings.  Let the storm pass over me and keep me and my family and my friends and my pets safe.  Thank you."  

I would be thinking, "Okay, it was hard, but I was faithful.  My neighbors hate me, but I've done my part."  

It was not to be.  

God was quite clear with Lehi.  Ditch your stuff.  Leave it all.  Wander around in the woods.  

Gosh, that would be hard.  I would like to be faithful from the convenience of my own sofa, thanks very much.  With air conditioning and a bug guy.  Yes, definitely with a bug guy, and a refrigerator.  

Basically, I would have failed test number one.  Nephi and his family pass the test.  They actually do leave.  They meander around lost in the wilderness for a while, but eventually they get to a big old ocean.  Well, crap.  Somehow we got here, and we're still not to that land you promised us, God.  This is where Bridget would have sat down and cried.  "I left it all, I am out here alone, bug bitten, having had two kids while wandering around in this filthy forest (can we say NO EPIDURAL!?) and NOW I am stuck in front of this ocean?  You have got to be kidding me."  

But then... that's when God says, "You need to get on a boat and cross the ocean.  Your end point is somewhere on the other side."  

"FINE," Bridget would say, "I will wait right here on this beach until you send me a boat."  I would plonk myself down and pray really hard.  God can do anything, right?  So have someone bring me a boat.  Or better yet, just poof one up for me.  I'm not picky.  I will literally take ANY color.  

Except, God didn't say that.  He told poor Nephi to get busy and BUILD one.  Egads, are you kidding me?  I have no idea how to build a boat.  Now wait, here's the great news.  God will tell you how to do it.  (I am not feeling like this is fantastic news...) And even better?? Step one is... wait for it... melt down some metal to make some tools.  

Nuh, uh, you didn't.  Are you kidding me?  Step one is MAKE TOOLS?  Which you then have to use to MAKE A BOAT?  Which you then have to hop into and ride on for like ten years??? At which point you will land in the middle of freaking nowhere?  Literally on a land that is uninhabited, but for bugs the size of plates and wolves and mountain lions?  

Pass.  

I would like a car service to take me back to Jerusalem please.  They may be destroyed soon, but at least until then, they have beds and stuff. 

Okay but folks, it gets worse.  While Nephi is out there breaking his back wandering around and then building tools to build boats, his brothers are whining and complaining and tying him up.  No, seriously.  They are literally tying him up and threatening his life.  

Of course, our hero does what anyone would do, right?  Prays for the strength to "burst his bands" and show those fools what power from God looks like!!! What does God do?  Oh, that's right.  He loosens them so Nephi can wiggle out and then reasonably explain to his brothers that they were overreacting.  

But where's the pizzazz?!? God is all powerful!  God can do anything!! Where is my jet to the ocean?  My cruise ship to the promised land?  Where is the magical answer to my problem!!?? When I pray for a new house, I don't mean, please help me get enrolled in school so I can get good grades and graduate and get an entry level job where I make nothing and then work for years until I earn a good living and I can buy a decent home.  What I meant was... I want a nice house, NOW.  I have faith, so please give it to me.  

Honestly, for years and years, I read the first book in the Book of Mormon and I kind of hated Laman and Lemuel (Nephi's complaining older brothers).  They are so whiny, they are so wicked, they are so lazy and worthless.  Lately, I've come to see that I resemble Laman and Lemuel much more closely than I resemble Nephi. (Sorry to say.)  They usually did the right thing, but they grumbled about it.  Check.  They had points where they weren't sure whether they wanted to do the right thing, to work super hard.  Check.  They made wrong turns and sinned.  Check.  Oh dear.  But I detest them, don't I?  

Around the time my third child turned 18 months, I started going to nursery.  (In the Mormon church, we have a one hour "sacrament meeting" that is similar to any other church, and then afterward we have a 45 minute Sunday School class and then a one hour meeting where we break into men and women.  During those second and third hours, the children go into a special class called Primary.  The kids aged 18 months to three years of age go into "nursery" where they are given snacks, they have singing time and they play with puzzles and toys.  It's basically a structured babysitting program for the babies.)   I wasn't called to (given the official assignment of) nursery, per se, but I was in there every single week because they were short staffed.  After a few months of this, I was asked to do it formally, as my church job.  We don't have paid clergy, so every member of the church has a "calling" or job to perform.  They asked me to work in the nursery.  That was now over two years ago.  

When we moved, they told me at first I would not be sent to nursery.  It's very hard to make friends and get to know people in a new ward if you are spending every single week babysitting for other people's kids.  And yet, after a few weeks of substituting in the nursery, they called me to work in the nursery. At the time, they reassured me that it was "temporary", and only for a month or two until they could get things all worked out.  I would then be released so I could get to know people in the ward, etc.  

When we had been in the ward for about three months, the time I should have been released came and went.  I am sorry to say my attitude about this was not very good.  I did not ask to be released, but I complained.  To my mom.  To my sister.  To Whitney.  To the man on the corner.  I was really struggling with being in nursery.  I dreaded every single Sunday.  It's not that I felt that it was beneath me--it's just that I felt I had done my time and then some.  I had tried to be good, but let there be an end!  Let me do anything else!  

It got to the point where I thought maybe I shouldn't bother going to church on Sunday at all.  I go to church alone most of the time because of my husband's work schedule.  It is hard to sit in church alone and watch your children, keep them occupied and quiet.  Then after that, I have to go watch 8-14 toddlers for two hours? If I stay home, I can save myself almost four hours of exhaustion and honestly, I could spend far more time studying church principles from home.  

It was a tempting thought.  Things felt very hard for me.  I felt very unloved.  If I'm being honest, I felt very very alone.  I didn't know many people in the ward, and I had moved away from my family.  

I decided to pray about it.  I decided to pray that God would remove me from nursery.  Surely He would hear the cries of his daughter and He would bless her.  

Here is the problem with what I wanted, and with my entire approach, with my obscured view of faith.  I looked at it growing up (and again recently) as something that I would believe in my heart.  I thought that then, I should be rewarded for that belief.  It was a feeling, rewarded by a blessing.  I pray and I believe, therefore I should be blessed.   

I was wrong because faith is not a feeling.   

God knows this, and I know it, but I needed to be reminded.  Faith is a belief that prompts an action.  I prayed to be released from this job and instead, I received the clear and strong reassurance that my Heavenly Father loves me.  That He knows of my needs.  That I would be released and get to move on to do something else, to serve in a different way, but that the time was not yet come for that to happen.  He told me I needed instead to change my heart.  

Because there is a reason why Nephi had to slog through the jungle.  There's a reason he had to put up with whiny brothers.  There's a reason he had to build tools, then hew down trees and cut them into a boat, and then sail across stormy and frightening waters.  We are not here on earth to receive blessings!! We are here to be shaped.  We are here to be molded.  

We are here to become like our brother Jesus Christ, to become like our Father.  We become like them by ACTION not by blessings, not by gifts.  God doesn't care about Nephi's boat making skills, but he cares very much about the strength of his heart, the willingness of his hands to do what is asked.  Unless we strive, we do not ever grow.  

I was blessed with the perspective I needed to see tending these little ones as an opportunity to be strengthened myself, as a chance to serve my God.  It became an opportunity to be humble, and to do what I was told to do, even if I didn't want to do it.  I count myself lucky that I wasn't asked to go camping for years. (I would die!!) or to build a boat, or to have a child with no epidural!!  It could be much worse, and my shaping process could be so much harder than God has made it.  

But my point, and I know I have taken a long time in coming to it, is that once I decided to love these children, once I decided to put some effort into nursery, and to do it with a smile, it got better.  I was able to feel edified through church attendance, even in nursery.  My kids behaved better in sacrament meeting so I got a tiny bit of enrichment from the speakers during that first hour.  I have increased study time each day with my children so I am learning more there.  God will bless you if you settle down and work for it.  

He cannot bless you from the couch.  He cannot bless you if you don't sweat first.  

If you are like me, and you are praying for something, wishing for something, hoping for something... stop sitting on the couch and hoping!  God will tell you how to do it, but get up and start melting that metal to make those tools!  Action will spur you on to greater action and before you know it, you will be the most faithful of God's servants.  I know this to be true, and I promise it to you.  

1 Nephi 16:29 sums it up beautifully: And thus we see that by small means, the Lord can bring about great things.

It's okay if you start small, because the Lord brings about great things from very small means.  

Update: Emmy decided, the week after my post, to "be a big girl" all the time and has not had an accident since then.  Yay, the "no fighting" worked!! :-)