Eating General Conference

Guys. I'm pregnant.
With Baby #3...again. I had a miscarriage in June, but now we're in week 12 of round two of trying for Baby #3. Exciting! Hopefully all goes well. Miscarriages are not fun...but I'm grateful for the experience; it has allowed me, even already (!), to offer an understanding to others I would not have had before.

Baby #3??! Can we talk about this. Because having three kids kind of scares me. Actually, I'll talk about that later, because I have a lot to work through. I'm taking you along on that one.

What I really want to talk about right now is brought to you by this post from the blog "The Weed."
(side note: this blog is from an LDS man who has recently 'come out' as gay...but is happily married with three children...and intends to stay that way. It is a blog that blows my mind every time I read it, and I love it. I love the care and delicacy with which he handles the issues...and how determined he is to live God's commandments, no matter what struggles he has been given in this life. It's raw, faith-strengthening, empathy-inducing, humbling stuff. I encourage you to take a look around at his blog if you have a minute. It's good stuff.)

ANYWAYS.

The post is the first of what I hope turns into a regular thing...a "check-in" of sorts. The blog's author says that he does this with clients of his (as a sex-addiction therapist) where they "check-in" on how they're doing physically, emotionally, spiritually...and then commit to do something this week, set a goal.

And as I'm reading through his post...and then the comments, where people "checked in" as well...I fell in love with the idea. SO I sat down with my paper and wrote out my "check in." When I got to the 'Spiritual' section, I had to think long and hard. Because it was General Conference weekend recently...and because it was rough.

Let me explain.

Once I had some "growing up" experiences as a teenager, and got past the I'm-annoyed-with-everything-in-my-life stage, I loved General Conference. I loved it for more than the delicious candy bag that my mom gave us. I loved it because I just sat there and soaked in the feelings of love and peace and learning that were just spilling over me. Some talks were remarkable and I remembered them. But mostly, it was just being reminded, by the Spirit of the Lord, over and over again, that He knew me, my heart, and loved me just the way I was.

I loved General Conference as a young adult, where I was navigating life on my own, and relying very heavily on my Father in Heaven to keep me afloat...in EVERY way, not just spiritually. It was affirming to feel that I was not alone. And that somehow, next month's rent would show up.

I loved General Conference as a full-time missionary. It was like Christmas! Two whole days of spiritual replenishing? Without having to do much of anything else except soak it up? Oh, it was heavenly.

And so, as a mother, I always look forward to General Conference with the same eagerness. I am eager to be filled. I am eager for the time to think about things bigger than me. And the laundry. I am eager to let my mind linger on things of eternal consequence, and to be reminded that I am loved. I am important. I can make a difference. I am anxious to be inspired to love better, to see others as He does, to serve.

And so, it was with this perspective I anticipated this past weekend. Pleasant Sigh!, thought I, a little break from the everyday!

BUT alas. T'was not so.
Because I am the mother of two toddlers.
Two beautiful....but active and noisy....toddlers.
And it was just me with them, mostly. Because my hubby loves us and works on Saturdays to keep us alive.

I caught things in snippets, in snatches, in a minute or two of quiet before two giggling kids jumped off the back of the couch onto my lap at the same time.
And it seemed that no matter what I could conjure up to distract or entertain them, as soon as I settled myself into the couch and faced the computer screen with any semblance of the interest I felt so deeply, it was their cue to disturb.
I tried lots and lots of things.
But, no.
I felt frustrated. And like I was only getting bites of a delicious feast right at my fingertips.
There were still little moments, however, where the Lord let me know He was aware of me and what I was feeling, like the lyrics of a song that was sung that pierced me to my heart and brought me to tears. That song was for me. And then a sentence of someone's talk would just stick out to me, just so...before the next toddler attack.

And then, all-of-the-sudden, it was all over. And I felt like I had missed it all...well, at least missed it all in the way I wanted to really experience it. I felt a little dismayed. A little disheartened. A little bummed. A little bugged.

But here's the thing: I was missing the point. And the Lord has taught me a lot in the last couple days as I've sulked a little, and been a little spiritually whiny about being the mom of my kids.

I had approached this conference with the intent to eat my fill of a feast in a weekend...when I'm in the season of my life where I have to eat small bites regularly. Make sense?

I have had seasons in my life where I could do that...feast, I mean...just sit there and soak it all in.
But things are a little different now.

In South Korea, when you sit down to eat a meal, there are a ton of teeny little dishes with teeny little amounts of things to eat...like not really more than a bite or two for each person. I always wondered how this was ever going to fill my hungry tummy. But sure enough, after a little here and a little there, I was stuffed. I couldn't even tell you one thing I ate more of than another...I had just taken a bite of this and a taste of that....and was thoroughly satisfied. I mused that maybe it was because it takes longer to eat a taste of each of those little things...and it actually gave your body a chance to realize it had what it needed, to realize it was full.

And I wonder...spiritually speaking....that maybe if I had been a little better about making sure I was always taking small bites...constantly, consistently...eating a little here and there...I wouldn't have felt such a desperate need to be stuffed to the max this weekend. Maybe if I was always making sure to get the spiritual nourishment when I can, in bites, in snatches, in snacks...I would have been more appreciative of the especially tender morsels that I tasted this weekend...instead of just whining about needing more.
Maybe if I make a better habit of feeding myself spiritually on a more consistent basis, I would find that more fall into my lap...because I'm more aware, more attentive, more willing to take what I'm being offered...more grateful, more humble. I would appreciate every little piece.

And I'm thinking that this is what I need to remember about this time in my life...this Time of Mothering Little Kids.
This time that won't last forever...but that will be gone before I know it.
This time in my life when the Lord teaches me how to appreciate the little things. Because, really, I suspect that He never intended Conference to be a one-time meal. I have a sneaking suspicion that it's about savouring it over the next several months. Feeling like I "missed it" is pretty silly, actually...because it's not really about a one-weekend-feast...I think it's more like we just got given all the groceries we need for the next 6 months. The instruction we've received is intended for many, many meals...and snacks...and bites...

Which is good. Because I need to learn to eat more regularly, in smaller portions.
And not just because I'm pregnant... (haaaa....)

And so, after my journal "check-in," I decided that my commitment was to get spiritual nutrition wherever I could, and whenever I can this week...in little bits and pieces here and there. Which means I have to check in next week and report how that's going. Okay? Okay.

FULL.

(siiiiiiiigh).

It has been so long. SO long.

Too long.

My life lately has been so...full. Overflowing with highs and lows, goods and bads, smiles and tears, happys and sads. I have felt so blessed and so weighed down. Buoyed up and barely floating. And don't even think I'm running out of metaphors for both ends of a spectrum. I'm just getting started. Ha.

But really. Does life ever get to be so...much...that you don't know how you're making it from one minute to the other? Barely keeping your head above water? I'm going to assume you're all nodding. It makes me feel better.

I'm exhausted.

This week it's preparing for a week-long backpacking trip. And then leaving my kids for ten looooooong days. And I can only hope that aside from totally beating up my happy body, that it rejuvenates my weary little heart. A nice escape to the beautiful, wild outdoors usually does me some good in that respect.


I'm curious to know what your mantras are for keeping your life's busy-ness in check, if you feel like sharing. What do you tell yourself, how do you remind yourself to just keep going, or to reevaluate where your time is spent?

Growing.

I think about when to have my third baby, sometimes.

I think about it when I have two on my lap competing for space and it's squishy. Where would my third baby go? On my head?

I think about it when I'm walking down the sidewalk with two little hands that want to be held. I don't have three hands.

I think about it when I have two kids whining and crying in the grocery store and all I can do is ignore it or I will cry, too. Would a third little wail push me over the edge? Four people bawling in a store is bound to attract even more attention than the hollering toddlers already do, no?

I think about it in church, when both me and my husband have our hands full with a cranky toddler each, trying to distract them, entertain them, escort them out, discipline them discreetly...wait; who's taking care of our third, imaginary kid?

I think about it when people on the outside are demanding my time, and when I'm expecting myself to be something I'm not, and when I'm trying to impress the wrong people. It's then that I'm almost certain I have no time for another human around here.


I think about it in the moments when I already feel overwhelmed, and I think: why do I even think I can handle one more? Let alone the two more we've always planned for? What are we thinking?

 ---

I also think about it when I have two snuggly kids who fill my arms and my lap, content to be nestled into me and each other. There is room for another warm little body in this pile, I think.
 

I think about it when we're walking to the park and two little hands rush up to bring me fistfulls of scrunched dandelions and a confused ladybug...then rush away to find something new. I could have another one here with me, keeping me company.

I think about it when we're at Superstore and going through our happy little ritual of seeing the fish and lobsters, then getting a cookie at the bakery, then saying hi to the dog statue on the way out...and how fun it is. Baby-Rae would love showing these favourite things to a little someone new.

I think about it in church, when my kids are flipping quietly through pictures of the Savior, handing each other snacks and giggling softly at the sheep. My D-Hubby has his arm around me and I just look at this family of mine. I could use more of these kind of people in my life.

I think about it when life is beautiful, which it is most of the time. And how I love my beautiful kids and can't wait to add more beautiful to my life. And how there is so much right about the moments when we are together and looking out for each other. And how life doesn't get any better than that.

---


I thought some more about it when I read this blog post, and I sympathized with her when she said that the spacing of 16 months was the toughest.
Yes.
I am just grateful that my 16-month-aparters are my first two. Still makes me crazy sometimes...but not as crazy as if I had a few others to think about on top of it all.


We want our kids close together. We want them to enjoy each other, play sports together. We want them to be close enough to fight and argue...and make up and be friends again. We want them to have to be kind to each other when they see their younger sibling in the hallway at the same school. We want to be young, energetic parents. We want to be young, energetic grandparents! We want to be able to have the number of kids we want before health concerns steal our time.

I know we don't always get the things we want, but here's hoping we get a few of those.

And while we hmm and haww about when to grow our family, the question, really, is more about when we, personally, are ready to grow ourselves...to push our boundaries, to deepen our experiences, to strengthen our abilities, and above all: expand our capacity for love.


So. Am I ready to grow?


Well. Today is a tough day. Maybe ask me tomorrow.

Overall, though, growing is a'ight.
We're usually down with it.

Rented.

I have quite a bit of time to just think while I drive bus. I think about lots of little things, and come to conclusions about the most random and disconnected series of subjects you've ever heard...on a daily basis.

Here's one:

I itch to own my own house.
I want total creative control over the colour of my walls and the light fixtures overhead. I don't want to panic when my kids draw on the walls, or worry whether the landlord is going to let us hang artwork or not. Someday, it will be really nice.
But, I thought, as we moved our furniture around this week yet again...(we do that often. I like to think that it's the artist in both my husband and I that likes to keep things visually fresh and interesting. Or that we have decorating ADD) that there are some things that I really like about renting, too.
I like not having to worry about setting money aside for having the roof redone or the windows replaced. I like that the desire to renovate and update isn't always at the back of my mind, greedy for my extra dollars. I think I like that the most, actually. I often think about what I would do to change the houses I live in, the homes I rent. But I am actually comforted by the fact that there's not really anything I can do about it. It forces me to accept what I have. It pushes me to be creative in my home decor, and not just endure but embrace what's there so that it looks good, all together. I like having to make the most of it. I like that I don't have property taxes. I like that I'm not scraping by, barely keeping my head above water financially because I jumped into home ownership before I could really afford it...and all that goes with it. I like renting. For now.
Someday, we will buy a home, and we will love it. It will be awesome. And it will bring different blessings and different challenges. I will be a happy homeowner.
Until then, I've decided to love renting.
Because sometimes, renting really is awesome.

Taking My Stand.

Guys. This post has taken me FOR-EV-ER to finish. I keep coming back to it, and leaving it again...then coming back...and...yeah. Finally. Done.
 
Several days weeks ago I read this blog post. And, like any piece of good writing should, it made me think. And think and think and think.

And I started this post the next day, writing hot...which I love to do.

(One of my literature profs in University once told us to write red-hot...and edit ice-cold. I loved that. And remembered it, obviously. Writing hot is writing when you are on fire, full of thoughts and emotions that are running through you, around you, out of you, and just burning you up in all the right ways...)

But what I write when I write hot should never be 'published'...not until I've had some time to look over it when I'm running a little cooler. So far, it's been good insurance against saying some really stupid stuff...or the right stuff, but in the wrong way...y'knowwhatimean?

Good.

And so it was with this post. Because it's something that is important...and like most things that are actually important, it lights fires in hearts.

And that blog post lit my fire...maaaybe not in the way that it meant to...or maybe exactly in the way it was meant to...but it doesn't really matter.

This post is about my stance on homosexuality.

I write this because I need to, friends. Not really because you need to know what I think...because heaven knows it doesn't matter...but because I needed to write it...for me.  Because I've needed to really think this through...like, really. And for me, writing and thinking go together.

The experience of thinking and writing this post is exactly what it needed to be for me. I needed to sort things out. I needed to really examine myself. I've needed to be clear on where I stand...and I've needed to be able to explain it to my kids someday, without fear.

Because things like this are too important to ignore, or to just hitch a ride on someone else's coattails.

First of all, I need to get some things straight (haaaa...). This post is essentially a response to Momastery's Post (the one I mentioned earlier). Well, kind of.

BUT!!! Understand this: I really really love the blog that the post came from. I love the author, I love her insights, I love her writing, I love her cause. I only respond so specifically to what she said in this post because she laid out the "other side" of the argument so well from the viewpoint of a faithful Christian...that I had to really think about it in her terms, from her perspective. My thought process stemmed and grew from her words...and to take you through any of it without referring to her opinions would be...lacking, somehow. I don't really know that I'll be able to take you with me on my thought process...it's been kind of a whirlwind...but I should be able to share the conclusions I've reached.

Maybe. Hopefully?

And also, I'm coming from the perspective of someone who has always taken the stance that homosexuality is morally wrong. It's where I was sitting before the article...and it's where I've returned to. But...more...thoroughly there, if that makes sense.

I want that out there...because I do believe it's wrong, and so I'll talk about it that way...and don't want anyone scandalized, all-of-the-sudden, by my reference to homosexuality with words like "struggle" and "hardship"...and comparing it to other battles that I believe bear a resemblance. Okee dokee? You've been given fair warning.

Also: pet peeves. One of mine is when people get all upset because someone seems to be esteeming any marriage between a man and a woman as ALWAYS the best situation...no matter what...and start saying how offensive it is to say that that an abusive heterosexual marriage is better than a happy homosexual one. To that I say, DUH. Abuse is unacceptable, in any relationship. No one, upon hearing of a husband abusing his wife, is going to insist that well...at least they weren't in a happy gay relationship! So moot point, okay? From here on out, I'm talking about the ideals of both situations, if we're talking comparisons...which I probably won't do---talk comparisons, I mean---because I feel like it's comparing apples and oranges.

And so.

When I began Momastery's Post, I found myself agreeing wholeheartedly with the first half...about bullying...about kids as adults' reflections...about US needing to change, if we want to see change in our children. YES, yes, yes!
It drove me crazy when I was working in schools to hear of yet another bullying program that taught kids about how to recognize it, how to report it, blah blah blah blah. This will fix nothing! I wanted to shout, because that's not the problem! Our kids are not being taught how to love. Barbara Colorrosso called the solution teaching our kids to "care deeply." And I love that...because the issue of bullying has everything to do with those hearts of ours.

The last half of the post was a letter to her son, a letter that describes their thoughts and feelings on homosexuality, written to him as if he had announced he was gay. It was full of the beautiful and tender words of a loving mother. But it was also where I stopped nodding so vehemently...because, really, I was reading a completely different post. The subject matter was different, the goal, the aim.
We were onto something else, now.

And on I read. And I read some of the comments. And I re-read the post. And another pet-peeve came out...y'know, that one where people assume that because you believe homosexuality is wrong, that you do not love...that you must not love...that love only can mean accepting and celebrating homosexuality as awesome.

Which it doesn't. Because love is not about making everything acceptable. Love is what makes the unacceptable bearable...it's what gives us hope that we can endure the inevitably unacceptable things that we are asked to endure. If I had a friend I loved dearly who struggled with a genetic pre-disposition to alcoholism, I would not throw them a parade and hand them a beer.
Because I can't...because I love them.
You can't do much except love someone when they insist on destructive behaviour...but when you love someone, you sure-as-heck can't throw in the towel and hand them the sledgehammer to do a better job of it. You have to stand your ground in loving who they are at the moment and believing that they can be more than they are currently making of themselves.

So the suggestion that it is a lack of love that keeps me from celebrating homosexuality is offensive to me.
That it is a lack of understanding is also incorrect...because it is my understanding of who we are as humans and why we're here on this earth that also keeps me from embracing the idea that two people of the same gender should be together, sexually, y'know, if they wanna be.

That could be an entirely different post, altogether, though...the who-we-are-why-we're-here thing.
So, anyways.

Homosexuality is two things to me. First, it's simply the attraction, sexually, to someone of your same gender. I do not believe that, in and of itself, is (ahem) "sinful"...because I have met too many people whose situations are too different...and too horrific... to believe that the pain and confusion that can surround sex and sexuality is that simple. And I believe that everyone is born with different challenges and weaknesses in this life. But I do believe there is a line drawn when it comes to what you do with it.
Do you feed it? Entertain it? Justify it?

I believe that homosexuality is wrong. But why? Why am I so sure? How do I know?
What if I didn't know what I know? How could I tell what was right?
What is the good, what is the bad, that comes from embracing and encouraging something like this...the fruit that comes from believing it's wrong or believing it's right?
What if I only had the Bible? How would I tell then?

I can tell you right now, if I only had the Bible to go on...I would be so, so confused.

Because there are so many convincing voices out there. I would have what I've always believed on one hand...and, on the other hand, what seems like everyone else telling me that it's wrong to believe that way...hateful, even. And God is not hateful.
And I would wrestle with it inside...I would want a way to make them fit together...and I would probably end up drawing the same conclusions that the author of this post did...that things like this...just...evolve. That things must be different now. They have to be. To make me feel better, they would have to be.

But I don't believe that I only have the Bible to go on.
I believe that He, God, continues to reveal His will today...like, through a living prophet...through revelation, current scripture. STILL. Today. Just like always.

And thank Heaven for that. Because our time needs our Noah, too. I believe that God doesn't really leave ANYTHING that's significant like this issue up in the air and unclear. I believe that He still chooses a prophet to be his mouthpiece on the earth to give us guidance---and encouragement---that is specific to us and our time. And that makes all the difference. Because when I believe in a God who is actively revealing His will the same way that He always has, it makes getting clarification very simple.

So whether I'm pretending it's from a Darwin-istic perspective (homosexuality doesn't perpetuate a species; survival of the fittest would have annihilated homosexual tendencies ages ago!) or health perspective (can we say HIV/AIDS?), a behavioural perspective (we have to have self-control when it comes to unusual sexual preferences...otherwise, where do we draw the line?), or just the perspective of sex being more than simply an appetite to be filled at all costs...
It would be fine.
But it wouldn't be the whole story. Just some supporting evidence that it's not right, that something is breaking.
Because, really, it comes down to whether I believe God has given the final word on it...and more than just a few semi-ambiguous scriptures in the Bible that people could scrap over 'til the cows come home. I believe He has let us know, very clearly, where He stands today...when He said, in 1995, through a living prophet that "marriage between a man and a woman is ordained of God." (From this. Emphasis added.)

I wonder what the author's letter would have looked like if she were writing to her son as though he had decided to leave the Christian faith to become Muslim (another highly-bullied group she mentioned). Because I think the letter would have been less about how okay and fine-and-dandy it was...and more about how you deal with people who believe differently than you do...about how you love them anyways...and about how you celebrate them as a child of God anyways. I doubt that the author would have started praying to Allah to show support of her son's decision...but she would have loved him anyways. And I doubt that a son in that position...who knew how deeply his parents loved Jesus Christ...would expect them to be kicks and giggles about it...would resent them for not accepting Islam, too...would expect them to rationalize their beliefs so they could believe both things.

I'm sad for those who have been rude and awful on both sides of this issue. I wish I could explain to governments and policy-makers that, for the most part, these are not 'religious fanatics' who are standing up for the future of marriage and its definition...that it's people who are loving the best they can: loving their God and their fellow man.

I like how this quote puts it:

"The nearer we get to our Heavenly Father, the more we are disposed to look with compassion on perishing souls; we feel that we want to take them upon our shoulders, and cast their sins behind our backs." (Joseph Smith Jr.)

Because when it comes right down to it, condemning and exalting are not our jobs...they're WAY over our heads on the job description list, actually. The Lord knows each person's situation, circumstances, and heart perfectly. He is the Perfect Judge. I am not. And while it definitely does not remove my responsibility to defend what is holy and sacred, it certainly means that---above all---I act with compassion.

Because everyone is a child of God...and so, so precious to Him.
...Everyone.

Two.

Two articles I've particularly loved this week:

The Last Word: He said he was leaving. She ignored him.---by Laura Munson

Friendly Fire---by Glennon of the blog Momastery

Both are amazing. That is all.

2012.

It's no secret that I love the new year, fresh start, new goals thing.
Really, just any excuse to start over, fresh. I make lots of mistakes.

Last year I resolved to keep things simple.
For the most part, I think I managed to keep sight of that relatively well. I feel good about the effort I made to keep "unnecessary clutter" out of our schedules and work on the "basics" of maintaining our lives and our home.

But it's a new year! Which means building on that, right? Onward and upward?!

Well. I find myself in a much different situation than I have been in the past years...which makes my goal setting a little different.

I'm working at the moment. School bus driving.
Awesome, hey? It's great.
...Well, great for a part-time job where I can take my kids with me.
In all honesty, if I didn't have to do it, I wouldn't.
But I do,
so it's fine and dandy.

It's not that I hate working, it's just that I really like the hard work that I'm already doing...and miss being able to really do it to the best of my ability. That's all.

I saw a quote on Pinterest a while ago that said "Do the best with what you have, where you are, now."

And it made me feel a whole lot better. I may not be working with the same kind of flexibility that I used to have in my schedule...but I can sure do the best with what I  do have...with where I'm at...at this point in time...and quit bemoaning what I used to have or what I would rather have instead.

And so...that's the theme for my year. I'll carry over what I've learned from last year and really focus on what's important...and do the best with what I have...and love every minute!

-Natural Sweeteners Only For the Next 6 Months. This includes only honey, maple syrup, fruit, agave syrup...no white/brown sugars or corn syrups. I did this last year for three months and it was amazing. Special occasions (birthdays) and times when it's rude to refuse are exceptions.

-Spiritually Fed, Daily. I would make some kind of reading goal, like "read the whole bible this year" but I find I lose the purpose of why I'm reading too quickly and it becomes rote and meaningless. I need to feel spiritually fed...so if that's my mindset, I think the results will be waaaay more satisfying.

-Be a Sexier Wife. And before this sounds too scandalous...it's actually just things like: shower more often... keep my legs shaved... always smell pretty... the things that I don't especially care about, but that make a big difference to my sweet hubby. Aaaaand he's important to me, and definitely worth that extra little bit of effort.

-Treat My Babies Like a Treasure...Always. In the last few weeks before Christmas, pressure was high and time was running at an all-time low. I was pretty much constantly impatient with my kids, trying to keep up with all the demands on our time. Baby-Rae started having accidents, and was chronically misbehaving...and Baby-M was suuuuper whiny and clingy. Both were with me most of the day, still...but were being starved of my attention...and it showed. Once I realized what was happening, I felt terrible...and learned a valuable lesson. The consequences of forgetting to treat my babies like the treasure that they are...are actually totally disproportionate. They are affected by it way more than I think...and mending that mistake takes twice (three times!) the effort that it would have taken to just take a breath and give them the patience and attention they needed from the start.

-Don't Have A Junk Drawer. This is a home organization one. In my home this year, there will be no "miscellaneous" spaces...everything will have a place. "A place for everything, and everything in its place." I have kids...my home will never be as neat as a pin...but it can be organized and easily tidied.

Those are my goals in health, spiritual, husband, kids, and home. 

Happy New Year! 2012, you are going to be one interesting year...

The end.

Baby-M.

Today, I noticed that this little guy is acting less and less like my baby...and more and more like my toddler.

Luckily, he's still got chubby cheeks, dimples in his knuckles, squishy thighs, and a sweet little belly. So no matter how much he may act like he's growing up, he still looks like my baby.

Whew.


(Apologies if the photos are showing up weird in the post...I can't figure out why...)