A few weeks ago, somebody at my work killed himself. I didn't know him well, and I'm not looking for sympathy, but it was definitely something that was hard to hear. I know the pain of depression, I have wanted an "out" like that many times. I was so heart broken for his family and other loved ones. I was devastated that I didn't know him very well. I accept that everything happens for a reason, so I'm not necessarily beating myself up, but I still have a lot of "what ifs" floating in my mind.
My biggest problem with suicide is lack of understanding from others. People think it's selfish, and to an outsider, I can see why one would think that. Having desperately wished myself dead many times, and knowing how impossible it must have been for friends, my heart still hurts knowing what he must have been facing.
I have lately been struggling with my self-esteem. My first instinct is to reach out to somebody. Then, I think "I don't want to be a burden on my friends", I don't want them to be irritated that I am "always looking for attention" and I know that it seems extremely selfish and needy to want to hear compliments as often as I seem to. I imagine that my friends get very tired of it. I know they do. I would. So most of the time, I just suffer in silence. Eventually I get through it, sometimes with prayer, sometimes a friend or stranger offers the perfect act of kindness to pull me out, and most of the time I end up waiting it out. Like now.
I hate to sound like a broken record, but this is sadly misunderstood by so many. A cry for attention may seem selfish, or annoying, call it what you want, but a cry for attention is a cry for help, too. I hate hearing people say something like "he's not REALLY depressed, he just wants attention." or push away a child because they are "just looking for attention". If attention is what a person wants/needs or looks for, make sure there is not more to it. I don't want to make excuses, I just want people to understand so that I don't feel so lonely, and so that nobody else has to feel so trapped in the cloud of depression that they feel the only escape is suicide.
Tonight, my heart is going out to the family and friends of this man at work. My heart aches for his pain, for the fact that so few could understand well enough to help him.
Thursday, April 17, 2014
When You Are Serving
When Karleah was a toddler, I was asked to give a talk in Sacrament Meeting about service. This talk has come up many times with my BFF Cameo, as she knows it's something I preached about, but haven't always been good at practicing. This is probably the only talk or lesson I've ever given that I can really remember anything about. I tried not to be boring and use the stories most members of my faith have heard all-too-often. I felt strongly, after lots of prayer and pondering, that I needed to talk about the "other side" of service, such as instead of how we should GIVE service, that it is important to ACCEPT service. The person providing that service to you may need the blessings, and refusing to accept the help is taking away from another person's blessings. Over the past 10+ years, I am sure there are hundreds of examples Cameo can provide of my lack of accepting service. But she is patient and knows what I'm doing.
I pride myself on being able to take care of things myself. There was a time when I relied on my (then) husband to do a lot of things, but mostly I have always been pretty independent. Even when I was little, I refused to be the child when we played house, or to be the human wheelbarrow because I didn't want others to "help" me even in pretend.
When Karleah was 1 week old, I got a kidney infection and that is the most pain I have ever experienced. Worse than natural childbirth. I couldn't stand up straight, and before the infection was completely gone, I was on 5 different antibiotics, including one that I had to drive to the hospital daily to have injected in an IV. When a neighbor found out and asked to bring dinner, I said I was fine. (I was NOT fine!)
Before Nathanael's asthma diagnosis (he has outgrown this now) on one of many insta-care visits, I was starving and alone and stuck in a doctor's office watching my child suffer. They had to monitor him after each breathing treatment, for at least an hour at a time. I called Cameo "just to chat" but she read between the lines and brought me lunch. When she got there she said "You know, you could just ASK me to bring you something. You know I would have done it." Several times since then, Cameo WAITS for me to ask, just because she knows it's something that is hard for me, and she pushes me to get past that.
So it's not that I don't need the help, or even that I don't WANT the help. It's always been my own pride not letting me admit that I need/want that service provided to me. I have had to remind myself a few times that I am taking away blessings from others when I refuse their service.
OK, that was a much longer-than-planned explanation…. The other day, I was looking at my back yard thinking about all the work ahead of me, raking, mowing, weeding, etc. Trying to figure out how to keep up with kids, school, the house, the yard. Brad was here, and as I was becoming overwhelmed and nearing a minor panic attack, he showed up on my back porch with the push broom. I know he didn't have any idea what I was thinking so it surprised me to see him out there. I was defensive, thinking "he must think it's disgusting. He is so grossed out!" and "he probably doesn't think I'm ever going to do it, so he figures he better do it." or "I can't believe I let it get so bad that he thinks he has to do it." My first instinct was to grab the broom and tell him not to do it. To tell him I was perfectly capable and he didn't need to do that.
After a few seconds that felt like hours, I decided to allow somebody to serve me. It was hard, and I actually got up and worked with him to get the porch cleaned up.
Looking back, I'm sure Brad was following the advice of Mr. Big Weld ("Robots") "see a need, fill a need!" He actually does this for me a ton, and as I ponder on this tonight, I realize how often I am overly sensitive (not just with him…..) when somebody offers help. I always feel inadequate when another person is doing something for me, or even with me.
I guess I am just hoping that somebody else is like this. That I'm not the only person in the world that struggles with self worth when a friend tries to help. It's pathetic when I word it that way, why would I doubt myself when I am obviously blessed with amazing friends that step in when I need it most, without having to ask them? So, to all the people that have silently stepped in when I was prideful and overly sensitive, thank you. I needed that, more than I knew and more than I could ever express. I know it's not easy being friends with somebody like me but I am SO blessed.
Monday, January 20, 2014
God's Plan
The other day, Karleah came to me and said:
"If you had told me a year and-a-half ago that we'd be here, I never would have believed it."
I put down what I was doing and asked her to continue….
"That we would not be in Clearfield. That I would have had to leave all those friends, and that I'd made the new ones I have now. That we would be in this great ward, and Daddy would be remarried. I wouldn't have the great teachers I've had, I wouldn't know Andrea and Brad and their families."
As is often the case, I was suddenly in awe of my daughter. We discussed how we can never know where our life is headed, what's going to happen, and that sometimes when you look back, you can see God's hand in things when you thought you were alone.
I know I've mentioned it before, but my late sister-in-law used to say that whenever she was faced with any sort of trial, and struggled for a long time, she'd finally pray to Heavenly Father and say "I can't do this alone anymore" and would always receive the answer "you were never meant to do it alone." This came to mind once again, as I talked to my daughter about the miracles we can find in our day-to-day lives.
This brief conversation with Karleah led to a lot of pondering. I have made a lot of choices I'm not proud of since moving here. I have been extremely impatient and, at times, mean to my kids. I have yelled when I should have hugged, cried when I should have comforted, and almost daily find myself apologizing to at least one child that I have failed in one way or another. Being a single mom is tough, harder than anybody could have tried to explain to me. My kids mean the world to me, and without them I don't know that I could have made it through the past few years without them. They are truly my strength. There are many other poor choices I've made with friends and family.
The natural thing to do it "beat yourself up" internally. To mentally berate oneself for making such poor decisions. When I get the occasional "I hate you mommy!" I sometimes think, "yeah, I don't blame you. " or "you're not the only one right now."
Tonight, I made one of those poor choices. The boys have been fighting non-stop for the past 2 days, and when I heard them both screaming, then crying, I lost my cool. I yelled at both of them, and they both ran away crying. The "natural (wo)man" in me wanted to sit down and tell myself what a horrible person I was, losing my temper with innocent children. (OK, they weren't really acting very innocent but…. you get the point). Somehow, probably partly due to my recent pondering and some conversations I've had with certain people, I recognized Satan's part in that process.
Something one of my best friends said to me popped into my head. "Yeah, you screwed up. You did something you're not proud of. Don't beat yourself up, it doesn't do any good. Decide what to do about it, let it keep eating at you, or move on and make it better." So I decided to make it better. I took Nathanael in my arms, and apologized. I told him that what I had done was exactly what I was angry at him for doing, and asked him to forgive me. I explained why it is hard for me to hear them fighting all the time, and asked him if we could say a prayer together. He shed a couple of tears, but ended up hugging me and the rest of the day went amazingly well for him. Then I asked Carson to come, I held him and asked him to forgive me, too. He had heard me talk to Nathanael so I didn't repeat myself too much, but after that I didn't hear another fight.
As I was doing this, I could feel the power of the atonement. Oftentimes I think of the atonement for the "big" sins or more serious grievances against Heavenly Father's plan. But today, I felt the power of the forgiveness our Savior offers for the "little" things, too. We went to see a movie as a family, came home and had dinner while we found the same movie online for free and watched it again (LOL!) We read stories and played games the rest of the evening, and I realized how lucky I am to be a mom, how blessed I am to know about the atonement.
I never would have imagined my life where it's at now, but I am so grateful that God knew what I needed and where I would end up. That His hand is in everything, and the knowledge that everything that is not perfect in this life will be made perfect in the next life through our Savior.
"If you had told me a year and-a-half ago that we'd be here, I never would have believed it."
I put down what I was doing and asked her to continue….
"That we would not be in Clearfield. That I would have had to leave all those friends, and that I'd made the new ones I have now. That we would be in this great ward, and Daddy would be remarried. I wouldn't have the great teachers I've had, I wouldn't know Andrea and Brad and their families."
As is often the case, I was suddenly in awe of my daughter. We discussed how we can never know where our life is headed, what's going to happen, and that sometimes when you look back, you can see God's hand in things when you thought you were alone.
I know I've mentioned it before, but my late sister-in-law used to say that whenever she was faced with any sort of trial, and struggled for a long time, she'd finally pray to Heavenly Father and say "I can't do this alone anymore" and would always receive the answer "you were never meant to do it alone." This came to mind once again, as I talked to my daughter about the miracles we can find in our day-to-day lives.
This brief conversation with Karleah led to a lot of pondering. I have made a lot of choices I'm not proud of since moving here. I have been extremely impatient and, at times, mean to my kids. I have yelled when I should have hugged, cried when I should have comforted, and almost daily find myself apologizing to at least one child that I have failed in one way or another. Being a single mom is tough, harder than anybody could have tried to explain to me. My kids mean the world to me, and without them I don't know that I could have made it through the past few years without them. They are truly my strength. There are many other poor choices I've made with friends and family.
The natural thing to do it "beat yourself up" internally. To mentally berate oneself for making such poor decisions. When I get the occasional "I hate you mommy!" I sometimes think, "yeah, I don't blame you. " or "you're not the only one right now."
Tonight, I made one of those poor choices. The boys have been fighting non-stop for the past 2 days, and when I heard them both screaming, then crying, I lost my cool. I yelled at both of them, and they both ran away crying. The "natural (wo)man" in me wanted to sit down and tell myself what a horrible person I was, losing my temper with innocent children. (OK, they weren't really acting very innocent but…. you get the point). Somehow, probably partly due to my recent pondering and some conversations I've had with certain people, I recognized Satan's part in that process.
Something one of my best friends said to me popped into my head. "Yeah, you screwed up. You did something you're not proud of. Don't beat yourself up, it doesn't do any good. Decide what to do about it, let it keep eating at you, or move on and make it better." So I decided to make it better. I took Nathanael in my arms, and apologized. I told him that what I had done was exactly what I was angry at him for doing, and asked him to forgive me. I explained why it is hard for me to hear them fighting all the time, and asked him if we could say a prayer together. He shed a couple of tears, but ended up hugging me and the rest of the day went amazingly well for him. Then I asked Carson to come, I held him and asked him to forgive me, too. He had heard me talk to Nathanael so I didn't repeat myself too much, but after that I didn't hear another fight.
As I was doing this, I could feel the power of the atonement. Oftentimes I think of the atonement for the "big" sins or more serious grievances against Heavenly Father's plan. But today, I felt the power of the forgiveness our Savior offers for the "little" things, too. We went to see a movie as a family, came home and had dinner while we found the same movie online for free and watched it again (LOL!) We read stories and played games the rest of the evening, and I realized how lucky I am to be a mom, how blessed I am to know about the atonement.
I never would have imagined my life where it's at now, but I am so grateful that God knew what I needed and where I would end up. That His hand is in everything, and the knowledge that everything that is not perfect in this life will be made perfect in the next life through our Savior.
Nathanael's Baptism
My little man turned 8 on December 3rd. I still remember when I was trying to get pregnant with him, and how it felt like we had waited SO long to have that baby, and suddenly he's 8 years old! Nobody can prepare you for the time warp that happens once you have kids. Time goes by so much faster as you watch your miracles grow and mature and change. It's amazing and scary all at once.
Nathanael decided he wanted to be baptized a member of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Just as I did with Karleah when she was 8, I made sure Nathanael understood it was HIS choice, he did not have to be baptized. It was a decision only he could make, and he insisted he wanted to follow Jesus Christ. I was so proud of him.
On December 1st, it hit me that Nathanael's baptism was only a few days away and I suddenly got into panic mode. I had to plan food, invite people, buy, plan, and print programs. It was going to be the first "big" event since Nathanael's dad got married and I was nervous how things would go if the newer part of Nathanael's family came, the family I do not know. I was caught in a whirlwind and felt like a failure because I didn't make cute announcements, and have a fun photo session for the event. I hate the pressure that is put on parents for these things.
About midnight the day before the baptism, I printed the schedule. Nathanael had asked me to say the opening prayer, I had found a pianist in the ward, I was to lead the music, Karleah was giving a talk, his cousin Hiram was giving a talk, and Andrea, his step-mom, was giving the closing prayer. When we got up that Saturday morning to get ready for Nathanael's big day, he was miserable. Fever, cough, stuffy nose, sore throat, achy, he had it all. I considered postponing but my little guy was so brave and tough.
Before the baptism, Nathanael received a priesthood blessing. So unexpected but so necessary. I was proud of my son for asking for that blessing. It meant that this was really his choice, he really did have faith that he could be made well through the power of the priesthood, and he wasn't just choosing baptism because it is what you do when you turn 8.
Although I wasn't the "perfect" mom that I hoped to be that day, and things didn't go as perfectly as I imagined, my son's baptism was perfect. The spirit was there, and I know he made the right choice for him.
This post is pretty late, but I am so grateful to all that came and made the day special for Nathanael, it meant a lot to me!
Nathanael decided he wanted to be baptized a member of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Just as I did with Karleah when she was 8, I made sure Nathanael understood it was HIS choice, he did not have to be baptized. It was a decision only he could make, and he insisted he wanted to follow Jesus Christ. I was so proud of him.
On December 1st, it hit me that Nathanael's baptism was only a few days away and I suddenly got into panic mode. I had to plan food, invite people, buy, plan, and print programs. It was going to be the first "big" event since Nathanael's dad got married and I was nervous how things would go if the newer part of Nathanael's family came, the family I do not know. I was caught in a whirlwind and felt like a failure because I didn't make cute announcements, and have a fun photo session for the event. I hate the pressure that is put on parents for these things.
About midnight the day before the baptism, I printed the schedule. Nathanael had asked me to say the opening prayer, I had found a pianist in the ward, I was to lead the music, Karleah was giving a talk, his cousin Hiram was giving a talk, and Andrea, his step-mom, was giving the closing prayer. When we got up that Saturday morning to get ready for Nathanael's big day, he was miserable. Fever, cough, stuffy nose, sore throat, achy, he had it all. I considered postponing but my little guy was so brave and tough.
Before the baptism, Nathanael received a priesthood blessing. So unexpected but so necessary. I was proud of my son for asking for that blessing. It meant that this was really his choice, he really did have faith that he could be made well through the power of the priesthood, and he wasn't just choosing baptism because it is what you do when you turn 8.
Although I wasn't the "perfect" mom that I hoped to be that day, and things didn't go as perfectly as I imagined, my son's baptism was perfect. The spirit was there, and I know he made the right choice for him.
This post is pretty late, but I am so grateful to all that came and made the day special for Nathanael, it meant a lot to me!
Saturday, October 26, 2013
Karleah is 12?!?!
How does time go by so fast? Why does it just get faster as I get older? (NOT that I'm old...) I am so blessed to have this child in my life. I realize that sounds snobby since I'm the one that raised her and you'd think I have had a big part in helping mould her into the person she is.... But seriously, this kid is amazing and I'm not sure how much I've had to do with that. It takes a village LOL
When Karleah was born, I remember falling asleep dreaming about her tiny face, hands, feet, and the dimple in her chin. I remember waking up and immediately thinking "I'm a mom!" and when she was 6 days old, we had an appointment to refinance our home (yep, pretty poor planning) and somebody referred to us as a "family" and it melted my heart. We weren't just a "couple" we were "a family." I almost cried.
At 2 she insisted on throwing away every tiny shred of wrapping paper or tape before she would tear more paper to get to her gift. It was the funniest thing.
When she turned 4, we were getting ready to move from our first home and she was preparing to be a big sister. She was thrilled to finally have a turn to have a sibling, since all her cousins had them. She was just glowing the first time she held Nathanael, and she couldn't stop boasting to her preschool friends and primary classmates.
When Karleah was 7 she had to learn a tough lesson when her Grandpa passed away very suddenly. I was in such shock when it happened, and I am sure I handled things very poorly, but she was so brave and strong. She was told that she'd have to help her siblings remember Grandpa because they were all too young to have any memories. Three weeks later, her aunt passed away, and I believe she was a silent supporter for the cousins that lost their mom. I was in awe at her strength and calm love for those around her, even when her own heart was hurting.
On her 8th birthday, Karleah knew she wanted to get baptized. I was careful to tell her that it was a choice, and I didn't want her to do it because her cousins/friends did. She had to make that choice, and explain WHY she made the choice. Her spirit shone through, and again I was in awe of my little girl. At her baptism, she strengthened my testimony in many ways, but especially when she told me she felt her Grandpa and Aunt Julie with her that day.
At 10 Karleah was given a low blow to find out her parents wouldn't be living together anymore. She cried, and cried, and yet she found a strength to comfort her siblings when they didn't understand. She struggled with some of the things that went on. She had to move away from the only home she knew, she had to give up time with some amazing friends and neighbors. She had to redefine her eternal family, and yet she was my rock on many occasions.
Now my "baby" is 12. She went from a tiny 7 lb 9 oz baby with dark curly hair to a tall, slender, brown straight-haired beauty. Her dimples can brighten my day. Her smile gives me strength on my worst days. Tonight I took her out for some one-on-one time. We saw a movie, walked around the mall, and went to dinner. At the movie she was sweet and gently. At dinner, she was silly and fun. She got a scone and slowly tore it apart and threw the pieces at me. Then she got cotton candy and was pretending it was her friend/pet as she patted it and talked to it. Then apologized that it was going to be in her stomach soon, and then eventually in the toilet. I think I laughed through most of dinner.
I reminded her then, and I want to remind her publicly now that she should never be afraid to show ANY of that to others. If they don't like it, they don't deserve to be in her life. She is beautiful, talented, kind, funny, imaginative, caring, and she is a peacemaker. I can't imagine being caught up in so many arguments! She comes home telling me about fights her cousins had, or her classmates, and how she stepped in and helped them all out. Yep, I get to call her "mine".
Happy birthday my first born. MY child. Thank you for reminding me of all the good in the world, and for brightening my days.
When Karleah was born, I remember falling asleep dreaming about her tiny face, hands, feet, and the dimple in her chin. I remember waking up and immediately thinking "I'm a mom!" and when she was 6 days old, we had an appointment to refinance our home (yep, pretty poor planning) and somebody referred to us as a "family" and it melted my heart. We weren't just a "couple" we were "a family." I almost cried.
At 2 she insisted on throwing away every tiny shred of wrapping paper or tape before she would tear more paper to get to her gift. It was the funniest thing.
When she turned 4, we were getting ready to move from our first home and she was preparing to be a big sister. She was thrilled to finally have a turn to have a sibling, since all her cousins had them. She was just glowing the first time she held Nathanael, and she couldn't stop boasting to her preschool friends and primary classmates.
When Karleah was 7 she had to learn a tough lesson when her Grandpa passed away very suddenly. I was in such shock when it happened, and I am sure I handled things very poorly, but she was so brave and strong. She was told that she'd have to help her siblings remember Grandpa because they were all too young to have any memories. Three weeks later, her aunt passed away, and I believe she was a silent supporter for the cousins that lost their mom. I was in awe at her strength and calm love for those around her, even when her own heart was hurting.
On her 8th birthday, Karleah knew she wanted to get baptized. I was careful to tell her that it was a choice, and I didn't want her to do it because her cousins/friends did. She had to make that choice, and explain WHY she made the choice. Her spirit shone through, and again I was in awe of my little girl. At her baptism, she strengthened my testimony in many ways, but especially when she told me she felt her Grandpa and Aunt Julie with her that day.
At 10 Karleah was given a low blow to find out her parents wouldn't be living together anymore. She cried, and cried, and yet she found a strength to comfort her siblings when they didn't understand. She struggled with some of the things that went on. She had to move away from the only home she knew, she had to give up time with some amazing friends and neighbors. She had to redefine her eternal family, and yet she was my rock on many occasions.
Now my "baby" is 12. She went from a tiny 7 lb 9 oz baby with dark curly hair to a tall, slender, brown straight-haired beauty. Her dimples can brighten my day. Her smile gives me strength on my worst days. Tonight I took her out for some one-on-one time. We saw a movie, walked around the mall, and went to dinner. At the movie she was sweet and gently. At dinner, she was silly and fun. She got a scone and slowly tore it apart and threw the pieces at me. Then she got cotton candy and was pretending it was her friend/pet as she patted it and talked to it. Then apologized that it was going to be in her stomach soon, and then eventually in the toilet. I think I laughed through most of dinner.
I reminded her then, and I want to remind her publicly now that she should never be afraid to show ANY of that to others. If they don't like it, they don't deserve to be in her life. She is beautiful, talented, kind, funny, imaginative, caring, and she is a peacemaker. I can't imagine being caught up in so many arguments! She comes home telling me about fights her cousins had, or her classmates, and how she stepped in and helped them all out. Yep, I get to call her "mine".
Happy birthday my first born. MY child. Thank you for reminding me of all the good in the world, and for brightening my days.
Lessons from Punchinello
I have been reading Max Lucado books to my kids for as long as I can remember. Before I had kids, a young lady in my ward read on of his books to the primary kids (I was, of course, the pianist at the time) and I don't even remember which one, but I remember thinking I had better get some of his books before I had kids.
I started the collection with a board book of "You are Special". Karleah had the book memorized before she started preschool. When it was late, and I'd try to skip a page (or even a couple WORDS) she knew and she'd correct me. I once read the book to her when Cameo was over, and she cried because the story was so helpful to her.
I have cried while reading the books a few times, though if you know me at all that's not a huge shock. I am a cryer, especially when it's something that touches my heart in any way. If you've never read his books, I highly recommend them. Tonight, I was reading "You are Mine" to my kids. I've read the story so many times, but (like the scriptures) it has a profound influence on me and each time I take something new away from it.
In this story, a wooden person (Wemmick) gets caught up in a type of popularity race. The Wemmicks are collecting balls and boxes to prove their importance to other Wemmicks. Punhinello's friends don't care about the collections, and they start to miss their friend as he becomes so consumed with collecting boxes that he doesn't have time to play anymore. He starts working extra hours, he sells all that is important to him, and eventually loses his home to buy more toys, only because he wants to feel important.
One day, the Mayor of Wemmicksville decides that she is going to show everybody up and stacks all her toys up, then climbs on top of them. The Wemmicks all start trying to get higher than each other, to prove their own importance. The mayor then initiates a race to Wemmick's Peak to see who can get the highest the fastest. Punchinello gathers up his his toys and takes off with the group. His boxes and balls are so heavy and stacked so high he can hardly walk, or see where he is going.
Punchinello ends up getting off the trail, and trips over something. He trips right over the front porch of the home of Eli (the woodcarver). The woodcarver sees all the boxes and balls that Punchinello dropped, and asks him a few questions.
He asks how the boxes make him feel, and Punchinello says "important".
Eli responds "so you've been thinking like the other Wemmicks. You've been think;ing that the more you have, the better you are, and the happier you'll be."
"I suppose so"
Eli then takes Punchinello to the window, and points out the Wemmicks that are racing up the Peak. "Do they look happy?"
Punchinello shakes his head
"Do they look important"
"Not at all"
"Do you think I created Wemmicks to act that way?" asked Eli
"No."
Eli asks Punchinello how much the boxes and balls cost, Punchinello tells about the things he sold, and Eli says "My little friend, they cost you much more than that..... They cost you happiness. You haven't been happy, have you? They cost you friends. And most of all, they cost you trust. You didn't trust me to make you happy. You trusted those boxes and balls."
When Punchinello realizes how silly he's been, he apologizes to the woodcarver, and Eli replies "You're still special. You're special not because of what you have. You're special because of who you are. You are mine. I love you. Don't forget that, little friend."
I am guilty of some of the same things the Wemmicks do in this book. Of course, I'm not out buying toys or trying to be taller than everybody else. But I do try to make myself seem important in the eyes of others. It's tough, this thing called "life" and I want to feel needed. I want to feel special. I have stretches of time where I think 'the grass is greener over there' or 'I'll be happy when I find a partner that tells me how beautiful I am' or 'One day I'll be more confident because my boyfriend/fiance/husband will make me feel good about myself'.
I've been especially guilty of that the past few weeks. One particular friend might say it's been longer than that. I have relied very heavily on other people, or other things, to make me feel special and important. Tonight, I remembered that it costs me SO much more than I can see when I wait for 'better things'.
This was a wake up call, and although I've known these things for a long time, I often forget so here are some things that we all should remember. I write in first person hoping that those who read will easily apply these to themselves.
- No person's opinion of me should change the way I feel about myself.
- I am of infinite worth to a supreme being, He crated me and sacrificed his only son for me individually
- I am a great person
- My gifts are mine to improve upon. I have been blessed with talents, and they are not going to match up with other people's talents, because we are all unique and that's the way it is supposed to be.
- I'm beautiful, and just because some people might be prettier or smarter, or others might not see me as beautiful, doesn't make them right.
- Happiness is available here and now. Sometimes it takes a while to find it, we might struggle in the dark hallways waiting for the next window to open up, but there is always happiness and joy available
- If God created me, and God is perfect, I must be pretty amazing.
I'm sure God would say the same thing as Eli "You're special not because of what you have. You're special because of who you are. You are mine. I love you. Don't forget that, little friend."
I have to trust in God's love for me, and find my own joy without relying on the future, or another person, or some unforeseeable circumstance to make me happy. I have a pretty great life and I deserve to be happy NOW. And so do you!
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
Back 2 School
It's been a few weeks since school was back in session, and we are finally getting our routines down. The night before school started, Aaron gave the kids a father's blessing, I admit I was really nervous to have him in my home, with his new wife but it was actually a lot better than I expected.
Karleah is in 6th grade. Her last year of elementary, and she is SO proud of herself. She is a great example for the little kids, and this is the last year she will ever share a school with any of them. She was blessed with patience to help her mom and siblings with getting homework and housework done every day. This is always something she's done, but to have heard those words from my Heavenly Father was a great comfort. My little angel, so spiritual and sweet, so gentle and loving. Even in hre pre-teen stage, I know she loves me. After all she has had to deal with the past few years, that kid is especially amazing. I don't know how she turned out so great.
Nathanael is in 2nd grade. He will be baptized soon, and he talks about it all the time. He has struggled emotionally since the divorce, sometimes he's a downright bully, but then he shows the most compassionate, tender feelings. He is stubborn, and we butt heads often. But when he decides to do something, he will do it quickly and efficiently. My little man gives the best hugs, and has such compassion. When he is making the right decisions, you can SEE the glow all around him. When we did IVF to get this little man, I felt like we "lost" his twin because the 2nd embryo didn't take. I have felt that one day, I'd get to raise that other baby but I often feel like maybe that's his little guardian angel. Probably my guardian angel at times, too. Sweet Nathanael, I can't wait to see the light of the Holy Ghost in your life when you get baptized.
Carson and Vanessa are in kindergarten. All day! Carson loves to learn, unfortunately I didn't spend a lot of time teaching him the things he should have known before school started. But he is mastering letters, numbers, shapes, and counting. He is quick to get his homework done and loves to tell me all about his day.
Vanessa is as stubborn and demanding as ever. I love that little personality of hers. She is left-handed and it's hard for me to help her learn how to write certain things, since I can't help with my right hand. She loves to do her homework without reminding, and is SO proud of herself when it's done without my help.
Faith is still home with me (well, Grandma mostly) and she is as sweet and cuddly as ever. She makes my day when I get home from school and she yells "MOMMY!" and runs up to give me a tight squeeze (usually around my leg, LOL).
I hate that time is going by so fast, my kids are growing up! But I'm so thankful for each of them. They keep me going.
Karleah is in 6th grade. Her last year of elementary, and she is SO proud of herself. She is a great example for the little kids, and this is the last year she will ever share a school with any of them. She was blessed with patience to help her mom and siblings with getting homework and housework done every day. This is always something she's done, but to have heard those words from my Heavenly Father was a great comfort. My little angel, so spiritual and sweet, so gentle and loving. Even in hre pre-teen stage, I know she loves me. After all she has had to deal with the past few years, that kid is especially amazing. I don't know how she turned out so great.
Nathanael is in 2nd grade. He will be baptized soon, and he talks about it all the time. He has struggled emotionally since the divorce, sometimes he's a downright bully, but then he shows the most compassionate, tender feelings. He is stubborn, and we butt heads often. But when he decides to do something, he will do it quickly and efficiently. My little man gives the best hugs, and has such compassion. When he is making the right decisions, you can SEE the glow all around him. When we did IVF to get this little man, I felt like we "lost" his twin because the 2nd embryo didn't take. I have felt that one day, I'd get to raise that other baby but I often feel like maybe that's his little guardian angel. Probably my guardian angel at times, too. Sweet Nathanael, I can't wait to see the light of the Holy Ghost in your life when you get baptized.
Carson and Vanessa are in kindergarten. All day! Carson loves to learn, unfortunately I didn't spend a lot of time teaching him the things he should have known before school started. But he is mastering letters, numbers, shapes, and counting. He is quick to get his homework done and loves to tell me all about his day.
Vanessa is as stubborn and demanding as ever. I love that little personality of hers. She is left-handed and it's hard for me to help her learn how to write certain things, since I can't help with my right hand. She loves to do her homework without reminding, and is SO proud of herself when it's done without my help.
Faith is still home with me (well, Grandma mostly) and she is as sweet and cuddly as ever. She makes my day when I get home from school and she yells "MOMMY!" and runs up to give me a tight squeeze (usually around my leg, LOL).
I hate that time is going by so fast, my kids are growing up! But I'm so thankful for each of them. They keep me going.
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