tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35050878058679411692024-03-21T08:34:30.999-07:00Team KentonDebhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.comBlogger108125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-50052070191421534592019-02-12T07:53:00.001-08:002019-02-12T07:53:23.897-08:00[just sit with me]I had an interesting realization on Sunday.<br />
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I was at a ward conference. 2 of my dear friends were sitting in front of me. Both have experienced a profound loss. One buried her husband. And one buried her son. Another dear friend was sitting behind me. She also has experienced profound loss with the recent burial of her son.<br />
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After the closing hymn, I watched as the friends in front of me wrapped their arms around each other in a warm hug with tears streaming down their cheeks. As I touched their shoulders, they both turned and we were able to share that moment - heart to heart - no words spoken.<br />
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As I was leaving the chapel, I stopped to visit with my other friend, and as we clasped hands and spoke of eternity, there was a strong spirit of kinship and love.<br />
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I thought about the 4 of us. Grief runs deep in our veins and occasionally spills out through our eyes. Anyone who knows us also knows the loss we've experienced. Because they know that, they are more lenient with random tears and the sadness that lingers just under the surface, bubbling up now and again and affecting us in different ways.<br />
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It was comforting to know that the 4 of us could just sit together in our grief. No words needed. No discomfort at our tears or our sadness. There is something so incredibly profound about having someone just sit with you in your grief. It's healing. And wonderful.<br />
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And then I looked around. And I saw others in the congregation with tears in their eyes. I don't know their stories. I don't know their heartache. I don't know what grief runs deep in their veins. I don't know if anyone just sits with them in their grief, or if, because their grief is less known or visible than ours, that they carry that burden alone.<br />
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<a href="https://www.lds.org/music/library/hymns/lord-i-would-follow-thee?lang=eng&_r=1" target="_blank">"In the quiet heart is hidden sorrows that the eye can't see."</a><br />
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The other day, through a comment made on Facebook, I inadvertently hurt one of my friends. A newly grieving momma that I should have been more aware of, more encouraging to. Even after apologizing, my heart still carries that prick of guilt for hurting her. I wish I would have chosen, instead, to just sit with her. To just love her. I think this is something that I need to work on.<br />
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"I will learn the healer's art. To the wounded and the weary I will show a gentle heart. I will be my brother's keeper. Lord, I will follow thee."<br />
<br />Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-48957860654938983152019-02-01T17:12:00.002-08:002019-02-05T05:11:03.141-08:00[Phases]A couple of mornings ago, I stepped outside at still dark-thirty to take Sparky potty. It was that time of morning that is super black, just before dawn. I looked up at the sky and noticed a tiny sliver of the moon shining brightly in perfect alignment with Jupiter, Venus, and Saturn. Because the night was so dark, the moon and stars seemed extra bright.<br />
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I kept thinking how pretty that little crescent moon was. How brightly it shined. I'm not an astronomer, so I don't know the reason, but the moon felt extra close too. I could see the "dark" part of the full moon and I noticed that it also seemed to be shining. Dimly for sure, but there was still light there.<br />
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<a href="https://www.skyandtelescope.com/online-gallery/earthshine-seen-waxing-crescent-moon-phase/" target="_blank"><img border="0" data-original-height="1000" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWYbAq0SyUgCgb4f7wXM0Z-AzEZ9YTpT1gS2WTJ9A02af1gp2naWESuvcNPcDhTHZz_ddu9BQQpX0zMM4u8Dnr7bAzuXt1aUilyxhkkut8hEpQSxUCClQ0N8m7XOpC0fyaab2UH8wVuEv5/s320/2016-07-12_57850a5f837fb_Earthshine.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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And I got to thinking...no one looks at that pretty little crescent moon and decides that because the full moon isn't shining that the moon has no value. No one tells the moon that because it isn't fully illuminated that it's not worthy or valuable or important. In fact, even when the moon is almost completely dark, no one questions its place or its importance. We all simply know that sooner rather than later, the moon will shine again. We accept that. And we honor all of the phases of the moon.<br />
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So...why is it different with people?<br />
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Why is it when someone is in a crescent moon phase, we think something is wrong with them? Or that we need to fix them somehow? Why can't we just accept that for a minute they're going to need to shine at crescent moon capacity? Why can't we celebrate that they are still shining? And maybe align ourselves with them like Jupiter, Venus, and Saturn?<br />
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Why can't we see that even the parts of our friend that have gone dark for a bit are still shining? And why can't we encourage and defend and honor those moments? Even the parts that, momentarily, may have gone dark?<br />
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That same day, when I went out to get the mail, there was a card addressed to me from a friend that I have not seen in person since the fall of 2013. Inside that card was the sweetest note and a gift card to my favorite soda shop. And for a few minutes, I felt like that little crescent moon - being seen, loved, and celebrated, even though for most of January, parts of me had gone dark. I thought about the previous week when my friends aligned themselves with me to hold me in place as my heart broke again and I went dark for a time.<br />
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As I move out of my crescent moon phase, I look around and see that my friends didn't leave. They didn't question. They didn't try to fix me. They simply let me be sad, and celebrated the fact that I was still shining. Still standing.<br />
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I want to be like my friends. I want to be an aligner. A celebrator. A defender.<br />
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Perhaps, maybe, especially when someone enters a crescent moon phase, we could all be a little more gentle with each other.<br />
A little more understanding. A little more willing to honor.<br />
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And perhaps, maybe, we can all be a lot more willing to celebrate those who shine even when they seem to have gone dark...<br />
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<br />Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-21449820768078425392019-01-23T07:37:00.002-08:002019-01-23T07:50:03.918-08:00[Placeholders]<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">1.23.19</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Not gonna lie. Yesterday was rough.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">6 years without our Kenton hit me like a freight train.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">How very grateful I am for those who reached out through text, FB, mail, poem, and prayer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">When I crawled into bed last night, I couldn't help but pause in a prayer of gratitude for the people in my life that are my placeholders. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Let me explain what I mean by placeholder...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Do you remember when you were in elementary school and waiting in line for say, the drinking fountain or your turn while playing HORSE at recess? And all of a sudden you really REALLY had to go to the bathroom? So your friend in front of you and your friend behind you became your placeholder as you left the line - holding your place until you returned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">As an adult, that same thing happens. At least for me. I hope you have placeholders too. Friends in front and friends in back who hold your place when you need a breather. Friends we see and friends we don't.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">"In the gospel of Jesus Christ, you have help from both sides of the veil, and you must never forget that. When disappointment and discouragement strike - and they will - you remember and never forget that if our eyes could be opened, we would see horses and chariots of fire as far as the eye can see riding at reckless speed to come to our protection. They will always be there." [<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Created-Greater-Things-Jeffrey-Holland/dp/1606419404" target="_blank">Jeffrey R. Holland</a>]</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Yesterday I was reminded so clearly that I have many, many placeholders. Some are constant there in line with me. I see them frequently. We interact frequently. Others are what I call my "fringe placeholders." They're the ones that, although we don't interact frequently, and we rarely see each other, are there by my side when I fall out of line for a bit. The card sent in the mail every.single.year to arrive exactly on Kenton's angel day. The text the day before angel day every.single.year that just says, "I'm praying for you guys!" The bouquet of roses that arrive in the arms of one of my dear sweet other daughters. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I think that placeholders are more crucial to our well-being than we realize. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">They're the ones who catch us when we fall. The ones who carry us when we're weak. The ones who hold a place for us when we just need a minute to breathe. They're the ones who bring us back to ourselves.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Elder Neil L. Andersen, in his talk, <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2018/10/wounded?lang=eng" target="_blank">Wounded</a>, from October 2018 General Conference said, "We search for happiness. We long for peace. We hope for love. And the Lord showers us with an amazing abundance of blessings. But intermingled with the joy and happiness, one thing is certain: there will be moments, hours, days, sometimes years when your soul will be wounded. Wounds of the soul are not unique to the rich or the poor, to one culture, one nation, or one generation. They come to all and are part of the learning we receive from this mortal experience. Even with your own painful wounds, you will instinctively reach out to others, trusting in the Savior's promise: 'Whosoever will lose his life for my sake shall find it.' The wounded who nurse the wounds of others are God's angels on earth."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">"The Lord will surround and protect [us] with chariots of fire, as He did for Elisha, in the form of parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, neighbors, leaders, and friends who will vigorously love them. "</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">They that be with us are more than they that be with them." [Sharon G. Larson, October 2001 General Conference: <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2001/10/fear-not-for-they-that-be-with-us-are-more?lang=eng" target="_blank">"Fear Not: For They That Be With Us Are More."</a>]</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Today, I return to my position as placeholder. Grateful to those angels who held my place as my wounded soul took a day to grieve. Today, I am determined to stand, to ride in those chariots of fire, and to love vigorously. </span><br />
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Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-5888701482809698172018-04-22T20:57:00.000-07:002018-04-22T20:57:11.901-07:00[recognizing the hand of God]<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">[a bit of back story into today's writing...]</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I've been a little weepy this week.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Our first graduation announcement arrived the other day. I knew it was coming because Tiff, with her wonderfully sensitive and caring heart, had asked if Max could send one or if it would be too painful. How grateful I am for friends who continue to carry our hearts in such personal and thoughtful ways.</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Even with the advance notice, I have to admit, opening that announcement was bittersweet. It opened a whole new level of grief to be dealt with. And that's okay. It needed to happen. And now it's open and we can begin to heal that level.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yesterday, selfishly, I ran away for a while. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I went to the craft expo in Sandy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">All alone. A long time in the quiet car. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Processing. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Thinking. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Crying.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Feeling defeated and sad.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On the way home, I needed to stop at WinCo to grab a couple of things. I missed the exit and had to take the next exit, backtracking several miles. I was frustrated because I was ready to be home.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Little did I know then that I was being placed exactly in a position to recognize Heavenly Father's hand in my life as He gave me an opportunity to serve.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I wandered the store, grabbing what we needed. And a few extras of course. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I approached the checkout, I chose a line that had one gentleman in line with just a few groceries. Some bananas, some bread, and a few other things. Necessity things. The cashier scanned the gentleman's items and told him the total [$21.28] as I unloaded my very full cart onto the belt.<br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The gentleman swiped his card. It was declined. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Embarrassed, he swiped another. It was also declined.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He opened his wallet and several cards fell to the floor.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He asked the cashier to take the bananas and bread off his total.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He tried another card. And another. Both declined.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">His hands shook as he tried to put the cards back into his wallet. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He was ashamed. Hurt. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ready to give up and walk away without his groceries.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Suddenly, I felt myself being pushed forward [pretty sure Kenton had been standing there all along just waiting for me to step up on my own, and when I didn't, he gave me a little push!], opening my wallet, and hearing myself say, "Please add the bananas and bread back to his order. Sir, please may I pay for your groceries today?" </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">With tears streaming down his weathered cheeks, he humbly nodded and stepped aside so I could swipe my card. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized then that I had been given that moment to minister to someone. To step outside myself and share the love of our Savior with someone in need.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As this kind gentleman bagged his groceries, he did so with a smile on his face and tears still in his eyes. He thanked me profusely, again, took his bags, and left. I paid for my groceries and began to bag them. The lady behind me put her hand on my arm and said, "Thank you for reminding me how important it is to be kind. You have inspired me to do something for someone today. That was very touching."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I don't share this story as a "look at me" moment. I would rather not share. But I also do not want to forget.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today during ward conference, and again at standards night, President Acevedo gave us some direction to help us get closer to our Savior. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He said, "Each morning ask God to put you in someone's path to minister to them."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And each night we should write down the moment we recognized Heavenly Father directing our service. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am looking forward to following President's counsel. I know that in doing so I will be able to work through this new level of grief without getting lost in my own sadness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A few weeks ago at another ward conference, President said, "We are given many promises, but the storms don't always stop. The enabling power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ is to give us the ability to go on through our trials, to make us like Him by giving us the strength to overcome."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'm grateful for the opportunity I had to serve yesterday. President Acevedo said, "It is a privilege and duty to lift and to serve others. When we're serving someone else, it's REALLY hard to think about ourselves."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That service I was called to give was simple. It was profound. It reminded me that Heavenly Father is acutely aware of each of us. And he often uses us to answer prayers, spoken and unspoken, of those around us.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"What we think is what we become. What we do is who we are. Choose to be armed with power."</span></div>
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Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-34799249225496319792016-07-26T09:27:00.000-07:002016-07-26T09:27:17.535-07:00[Faith to Conquer Fear]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sunday at church, the primary kids sang the song "To Be a Pioneer." It had been a rough couple of weeks, and, honestly, I really wasn't paying attention. I was just kind of there. But as they finished the first verse and chorus, and then started the second verse, my heart opened as I heard these words...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"You do need to have great courage, faith to conquer fear..."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Faith to conquer fear. I love that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The next verse is exactly what this life is...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"We are marching, ever marching,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We are marching, ever marching,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Marching onward, ever onward..."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That's what life is. Marching onward. With faith enough to conquer fear.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This morning I was reading in 2nd Nephi 31. I challenged my cute Mia Maids on Sunday to read from the Book of Mormon daily like President Acevedo asked us to at Stake Conference in January. His challenge was also to find those verses that had special meaning to us and to write why.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2 Nephi 31 is heavily marked in my scriptures. Nearly every verse is highlighted, and I have added notes from each time I've read or highlighted over the years. This morning there were a few things that I absolutely really loved. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Verse 3...for my soul delighteth in plainness...for the Lord God giveth light unto the understanding; for he speaketh unto men according to their language, unto their understanding.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Living the gospel is simple. Understanding the gospel is simple. Read the Book of Mormon. It's true. The gospel is true. Heavenly Father loves us. The Atonement is a real and a wonderful gift that allows us access to the faith we need to conquer the fears of living in a time where everything we believe is under attack.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And verse 20...wherefore, ye must press forward with a steadfastness in Christ, having a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men. Wherefore, if ye shall press forward, FEASTING upon the word of Christ, and endure to the end, behold, thus saith the Father: Ye shall have eternal life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On Sunday I talked with my cute Mia Maids about why they thought President Acevedo asked us to read daily and find why certain scriptures reached out to us during our reading. The answer is right there. FEAST upon the word of Christ. Not nibble. Not snack. Not graze. FEAST. Daily reading helps develop our "scripture voice." That ability to "hear" what messages our Heavenly Father is sending us that day. I know that as we read more consistently, the messages come through so much more clearly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The reminders throughout chapter 21 to endure to the end and the simpleness that is the Gospel of Jesus Christ always help me realign my will with Heavenly Father's will. They truly give me faith to conquer fear. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I don't need to know everything right now. Someday I will understand it all. Until then, I will rely on my Savior's perfect love and Atonement to get through the days when I'm ready to quit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Guys, the church is true and we are so loved.</span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-80878808080073399612016-05-16T14:34:00.000-07:002016-05-16T14:34:27.281-07:00[you can say yes today...]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">3 weeks ago this evening, Luke handed me the phone and shrugged. Anyone who knows me doesn't call. They text. I was confused.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I answered and heard, "Sister Reynolds, this is President Keller..." and then I think I stopped listening for a minute because I couldn't hear over the rapid fire pounding of my heart.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Eventually I heard, "...tomorrow, 8:00? Will that work?" </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Um....sure?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Fast forward to the next night at 8. I'm sitting at the stake center facing President Keller and he is telling me that they're calling me to be [you can laugh here, I did - because this is not a calling I have ever heard of!] the <i>stake girl's camp food coordinator.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We chatted for a minute and then he said something that I keep thinking back to.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>"You can accept this calling and say yes right now. Or you can say you'll think about it and come back tomorrow to talk to me and say yes then. You are the only one for this calling."</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The funny thing is, I didn't feel pressured to accept that calling. Just reassurance that it was, indeed, <i>my</i> calling.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Now, this post really has nothing to do with [ahem] being the <i>stake girl's camp food coordinator, </i>and everything about those 5 words - YOU CAN SAY YES TODAY.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This grief road is a tricky one to navigate. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There are pitfalls and hidden traps that suck you in without warning and take away your ability to think, to breathe, to move forward for a while.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There are moments of brilliant, heart soothing comfort that give you respite and help rebuild the foundation of your faith.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And there are moments in between. I sometimes wonder if those in between moments are the hardest. They're the ones where you aren't sure what to feel. Are you sad? Angry? Happy? Confused? Unsettled? Anxious? Okay? Worried? More than likely it's all of those all at once.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You start to doubt just about everything about yourself.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And you can feel yourself pulling away from the people who love you and want to help you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You feel yourself pulling away from the things you love to do.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Why? Because in those in between moments, you can't make things matter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But here's the deal.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Those things do matter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Those people matter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You matter.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What is it that you need on one of those in between days? Is it a nap? Is it a chocolate bar? Is it a milkshake or a big cheeseburger or a little retail therapy? Possibly, yes. And if that's the case, I highly recommend getting that. Within reason of course.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here's where, at least for me, those five words - YOU CAN SAY YES TODAY - come in to play. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can say yes to prayer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can say yes to scripture study.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can say yes to a friend asking if they can help [oh is this ever a hard one for me!!!].</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can say yes to a hug.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can say yes to Luke bringing dinner home instead of me feeling beaten down because I couldn't manage to get dinner on the table that night. Again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But here's the biggest one...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can say yes to service.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can say yes to helping someone else.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can say yes to sending a text or a card or a pizza to someone that is struggling.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Because in doing that, I'm saying yes, I see you. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I understand you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'm not judging you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I love you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We all need someone to see us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">To love us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Once in a while, those around us ask for help.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Most of the time they don't.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We have to be listening. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That's <i>my</i> calling.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So when I'm listening and I get that prompting to just be nice...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I CAN SAY YES TODAY!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And so can you...</span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-79613391613122870292016-05-13T07:57:00.001-07:002016-05-13T07:57:13.262-07:00[In the arena]Wow, guys! I didn't realize that so many of you were still here. My heart smiled with each comment you left, whether here, on Facebook, or in a text. Thank you for loving us still.<br />
<br />
My heart has been pretty tender this week.<br />
<br />
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<br />
Mother's Day does that more than most other days.<br />
<br />
I see post after post of Skype calls home from missionaries.<br />
That still really rocks me to the core.<br />
I try so hard not to be jealous.<br />
Or angry.<br />
Sometimes I'm successful.<br />
Usually I retreat for a while instead.<br />
Allow myself to just feel.<br />
Eventually, I can be happy for those moms that get the phone call home.<br />
It just takes some time.<br />
<br />
On each of the past two Mother's Days, I have one friend who, in the midst of her excitement to talk to her own missionary, has taken a moment to text me - a simple text - "I wish they had Skype in Heaven so you could get a call today too." The text that always brings me to tears. Tears of gratitude for her concern, her friendship, her love, her unselfish heart.<br />
<br />
Other texts come - they range from long thoughts to simply "Love you - thinking of you - praying for you" kinds of texts. Texts from friends who have lived our story with us.<br />
<br />
And this year, two new friends touched my heart so profoundly. One simply wrapped her arms around me and said, "I just love you." The other pulled me into a hug and said, "You're so brave." And while I certainly didn't feel completely brave - I felt exposed and scared and angry and sad - I showed up at church anyway.<br />
<br />
Because that's what we do.<br />
We show up.<br />
We show up when we feel brave.<br />
We show up when we feel scared.<br />
We show up when we feel angry.<br />
We show up when we feel sad.<br />
<br />
Some people see only our brave, but seem to instinctively know that there is fear under that bravery. Fear and anger and hurt and grief. And sadness. They encourage our brave by allowing those other feelings a place as well. By not walking away when those other things show up so much more glaringly.<br />
<br />
Others choose to only see our sad. <br />
<br />
I know that's the easiest to see.<br />
It's so much more visual than brave.<br />
<br />
You know what I've learned though?<br />
It takes bravery to be sad.<br />
No, that's not quite right.<br />
It takes bravery to <i>show</i> sad.<br />
<br />
"I've learned that the people who love me, the people I really depend on, were never the critics who were pointing at me while I stumbled. They weren't in the bleachers at all. They were with me in the arena. Fighting for me and with me.<br />
<br />
"Nothing has transformed my life more than realizing that it's a waste of time to evaluate my worthiness by weighing the reaction of the people in the stands. The people who love me and will be there regardless of the outcome are within arm's reach. This realization changed everything." - Brene' Brown<br />
<br />
So why do we do it?<br />
Why do we allow you to see these parts of us?<br />The parts that are terrifying and uncomfortable for both us and you.<br />
Why don't we choose to show only the brave?<br />
<br />
"We simply can't learn to be more vulnerable and courageous on our own. Sometimes, our first and greatest dare is asking for support." - Brene' Brown<br />
<br />
I have a friend who is going through a very deep and personal trial right now.<br />
It would be so much easier for me to stay on the sidelines and allow someone else to fight with her in the arena.<br />
But she needs me.<br />
She needs what I've learned.<br />What I've experienced.<br />
And so, I'm stepping into the arena.<br />
I'll stand with her.<br />
I'll fight with her.<br />
And for her.<br />
Because she shouldn't have to do this alone.<br />
None of us should have to do this alone.<br />
<br />
Are you willing to step into the arena with someone?<br />
To stand with them instead of walking away?<br />
It doesn't have to be a grand show.<br />
Choose to engage instead of disengage.<br />
To love instead of judge.<br />
It's hard.<br />
Sometimes it's dang hard.<br />
Chances are you'll probably cry.<br />
I can almost guarantee you'll be uncomfortable.<br />
No one ever grew without a little bit of discomfort.<br />
<br />
Please pray for us.<br />
For me.<br />
For my family.<br />
And for my friend.<br />
The story is hers to share when and if she chooses.<br />
But I'm pretty sure that Heavenly Father will know who you're talking about when you ask for strength, guidance, courage, peace, and comfort for "Deb's friend."<br />
He's pretty great that way.<br />
<br />
Guys, we need each other.<br />
We all need each other.<br />
You can give someone courage by standing with them and fighting for them.<br />
And in the end, you'll be surprised by how much that act of standing changes you too.<br />
<br />
<br />Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-75835798381383799952016-05-10T07:09:00.000-07:002016-05-10T07:09:29.099-07:00[Daring Greatly]<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">For a few months, close to a year now, ever since I decided to take a leave of absence from teaching, Heather has been <strike>hinting</strike> flat out telling me that I need to read a few books - Daring Greatly, Rising Strong, and Big Magic.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I don't like to be told what to do. ;)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">So I resisted.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Until now.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Yesterday afternoon, knowing that I couldn't do much of anything since my back is still being </span><i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">super awesome</i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">, I went to the library and picked up Daring Greatly. I thought for sure it would be good and would give me something to do while I sit around recuperating, but questioned whether it would be </span><i style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">that good</i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">. Like, do I really need to fork out ten bucks for a book on being brave?!</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<iframe frameborder="0" marginheight="0" marginwidth="0" scrolling="no" src="https://ws-na.amazon-adsystem.com/widgets/q?ServiceVersion=20070822&OneJS=1&Operation=GetAdHtml&MarketPlace=US&source=ss&ref=as_ss_li_til&ad_type=product_link&tracking_id=ohmylitclacla-20&marketplace=amazon&region=US&placement=1592408419&asins=1592408419&linkId=fce149a86518c894facae2e45b1934b9&show_border=true&link_opens_in_new_window=true" style="height: 240px; width: 120px;"></iframe>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Came home, had dinner, and posted on Instagram and Facebook about my library choices. Immediately, friends started posting how much they adore Brene' Brown - how she just "gets it" - how "life changing" her books are. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I was still skeptical.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Bedtime - Luke heated up the big heat pack for my back and I crawled into bed with this book (and a super awesome headlamp, but hey, ya gotta do what ya gotta do!) thinking I'd read a few pages before falling asleep...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">56 pages in and I could have kept reading. The problem was - <i>this was not my book</i>. I couldn't write in it. I couldn't highlight things. I couldn't tag pages. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I ordered my own copy this morning. :)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">What's so great about this book? It's hard to pinpoint for me right now. There are phrases that jumped out so strongly. Paragraphs that spoke to my heart. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Phrases like this one...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b style="color: #38761d; font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif; font-size: xx-large; text-align: center;">Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage.</b></div>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Heather warned me to be prepared to feel all the feelings. She wasn't wrong.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">I had tears. I smiled. I cringed. I was encouraged. I was scared. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">For a long time, I have felt that I needed to return to this blog - Kerry encouraged my return several months ago, but at that point, I was not ready. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">Now, I am. I'm ready to share more of our story. More of our healing process. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">To say that this isn't scary to me would be less than true. But I'm ready.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">We get from a lot of people that we should be past <i>this</i>. That we should be happy all the time (which, really?! - is anyone ever happy all the time?!). That our <i>grief timeline</i> has closed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">Truth? You never get past something like this. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">Anyone who says they have is lying.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">But how can you know that about us if we don't let you see it? How can you relate to us or to anyone who has had to bury a child if we don't share those parts of us that make us who we are now. We're different than we were before Kenton died. And yet, in some ways, we're the same.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">Kenton is such a part of who we are as a family. He is our boy. Forever our boy. And missing him is something we will always feel. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">Some days that grief is like a sliver that only hurts when you pick at it. Some days, that grief is like a stubbed toe that is a dull ache. And some days, that grief is still blinding - hurting so badly that you can't catch your breath.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">It's normal. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">We're not crazy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms", sans-serif;">We're not focused on our grief. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">We are still living. We work, we play, we serve, we love. But that sadness is part of who we are.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">And so, I'm back. You're welcome to stay. Pull up a chair and stay. Or, you're welcome to go. I won't be offended. Sometimes, the story being shared isn't a good fit for where we are in our lives. I get that. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">If you stay, please talk to me. Or don't. Maybe you're not in a place where you're ready to engage in conversation about any of this. Maybe you just need to see my openness for a while. And that's okay.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">If you're ready to engage, please leave a comment, a question - let me know that you're here. What of our story touches you? What scares you? What makes you want to be better or stronger or more gentle?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;">This is our story. This is our life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: trebuchet ms, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-1919918705570838442015-01-11T16:42:00.002-08:002015-01-11T16:42:45.030-08:00730 days<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2 years ago, we were sitting in Kenton's hospital room. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The 4 of us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Our forever family.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Blinds pulled. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Silent except for the sound of sniffles and tissues wiping tears.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We held on to each other, prayerful, hurting, as we faced a decision that had blind-sided us. Knocked our feet out from under us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The facts were sprawled out in front of us, like barbs on a wire fence. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Each fact tearing at us, leaving us wounded. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Bleeding.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Just a few hours later, our Bishopric would arrive. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We would talk. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We would cry. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We would continue to hold on to each other. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And then we would know.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After individual priesthood blessings. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After the hours of prayer and tears. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We would know.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And just like that. Decision made. Not lightly. Not in a moment of panic or despair. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But in a moment in that hospital room that was full of angels. We felt them there. Holding us in our moments of heartache and despair. Sadness and heartbreak. We felt familiar angels. Loved ones gone before sent to comfort. And to grieve with us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In a moment that was filled with both peace and anguish, we would know. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We would nod as Kenton looked at each of us, tears spilling out onto his cheeks, telling us, "We stop treatment."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was a moment pressed into our hearts by a loving Father in Heaven letting us know that Kenton's earthly mission was nearing completion. That he had served well. Faithfully. Bravely.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There were so many more tears. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We knew what that decision meant. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It meant signing DNR papers. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It meant talking about things like hospice. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And funerals.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And it meant talking about things like eternal families. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Heavenly Father. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Plan of Salvation. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">How I wish our family been granted an old-man life span for our Kenton. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Some day this will all make sense. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Today is not that day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2 years ago. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">730 days.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It feels like only yesterday. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And yet, it feels like forever.</span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-63453129719723952782015-01-04T18:21:00.001-08:002015-01-04T18:21:25.129-08:00[insert kicking, screaming, weeping, wailing, and gnashing of teeth]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We're so not ready for the break to be over.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And January is such a hard month anyway....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">That's all.</span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-50261454694946524472015-01-03T15:07:00.002-08:002015-01-03T15:07:32.057-08:00[tick, tock, tick, tock...]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">...that's the sound in my head. Tick.Tock.Tick.Tock.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Counting down the minutes until we go back to reality again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">School. Work. Piano. Violin. Alarms. Homework. Schedules.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I've so enjoyed being home. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cooking. Cleaning. Crafting. Resting. Reading. Baking. Playing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We really haven't done anything the whole break.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And it's been so nice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today we went to the grocery store.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yay, us. ;)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On a side note, other than 1 lunch from McD's for Grammy, Goose, and I, and 1 lunch from McD's for Grammy and Goose while Luke and I had El Toro, we have eaten at home every single meal. That has to be a new record. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's been so nice.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today we did buy fried chicken for Grammy and Goose. Luke and I had a sandwich at home while putting away the groceries.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I've done another 3 in 30 - working in the craft room today.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My desk is actually almost functional.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My newest stamps are waiting in a basket to be used.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I should do that tonight.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'm going to go shape the bread for dinner.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And maybe craft.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grammy and Goose have made about a hundred twenty one little perler bead projects this week. They're having lots of fun.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Something about going back to a schedule pulls at me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Equal parts relief and anxiety.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today has been hard.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Again.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2 years ago today, Kenton came home. HOME.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2 days later he was headed back to PCMC.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">19 days later, he was gone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The month of January is bleak.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sad.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Hard.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We'll survive.</span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-17434960638237387922015-01-02T08:28:00.000-08:002015-01-02T08:28:33.584-08:00[day 2 of 2015]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The New Year's Eve <i>celebrations and traditions</i> just about did me in. I think I spent as much time hiding in the bathroom as I did actually <i>celebrating</i>. I just kept thinking, "Stupid holidays. Stupid traditions." As much as I wanted to be cheerful and happy and positive, I just couldn't beat down the anxiety and heartache for very long at any given time. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In fact, I would have just as soon climbed into bed around 9 and skipped the whole <i>ringing in the new year</i> altogether.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Does that make me a bad mom? Perhaps. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Whatever.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We started with fireworks at the cemetery to celebrate with Kenton. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was cold. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I know he appreciated the effort and the fireworks.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Then we watched a movie and made bags. Luke didn't want to make shirts again this year. That was our Kenton thing. I think he was hurting too much this year too. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At 9 we played Operation and the new game McKayslin got for her birthday from Christiansens. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At 10:30 we watched a movie. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At midnight we lit fireworks here at home and sprayed silly string and had sprinkle pancakes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And went to bed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'm sure the whole evening was equal parts successful and crappy for McKayslin. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I wish I could do better.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In trying to figure out just why <i>this holiday</i> was so much harder than Christmas even, the only thing I could come up with is that when 2015 started, that would be our 2nd full year starting without our boy. I don't think that makes sense to anyone else. Most of the time nothing I think even makes sense to me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Whatever.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">2015 came. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We started another whole year without our Kenton.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And in 20 days we will recognize Kenton's <i>angel day</i>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yet another painful day of reminders of all of the things we won't get to do with our Kenton. A reminder that we won't get to make any new memories. Or take any new pictures. Or hear that laugh. See that smile. Get those hugs. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We always miss him. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Some days we just miss him harder than others.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yesterday was an interesting day. We're all a bit on edge. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Tired. Worn down.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ready to return to a routine.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Our house feels claustrophobic. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I decided to take the ©CleanMama #clutterfree30 challenge. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I didn't tell Luke. I just started cleaning out a cupboard (yesterday's challenge was 3 bags of clutter gathered in 30 minutes). </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In that one cupboard I found a full garbage can full of expired hot chocolate (like 2009 expired), medicine, and cans of food. Luke jumped right in to help, and together we cleared 7 of the 8 cupboards on the east side of the kitchen. 3 garbage cans full and a big box to donate. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We kept going. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">By the end of the day (today's challenge is actually the pantry clean sweep, but we did it together yesterday), we had cleaned the kitchen, done some organization, and cleaned out the whole downstairs pantry.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was fun working together and the results were awesome.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What wasn't awesome was the amount of food that had to be thrown away.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lessons are sometimes pretty expensive.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">With each bag out of the house, I felt a little lighter, a little better. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Last night I was that good kind of exhausted that comes from working really hard and getting something finished.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today I start on my <i>craft room</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's kind of the crap room right now. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The holding pen for the wayward stuff that doesn't have a home.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One day it will be a dedicated craft room. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cute.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Functional.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That day won't be tomorrow.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Or even the next day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It might not even be next week.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But it will happen.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">First, the Sparky dog needs a bath and a haircut.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We'll see how the day goes from there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Praying that day 2 of 2015 leaves me feeling that same good kind of exhausted as day 1 did. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Because day 365 of 2014 just really hurt...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-20590953121802279292014-12-30T13:17:00.001-08:002014-12-30T13:17:16.352-08:00[it's almost 2015]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The morning was spent budgeting (double ick), organizing the pantry (ick), menu planning (a little less ick), and baking a delicious Texas Sheet Cake with the Goose (not at all ick!).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Since Saturday evening, Grammy has been feeling progressively more yucky, so when she asked to go to the dr. today, Luke jumped on the chance. They're there now. Haven't heard what it is that's ailing her. My guess is it's the same gomboo that plagued McKayslin and I for the past week. Luke seems to have held out on the sickness. Hopefully he won't get hit right before he has to go back to work...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The house is very quiet right now. Almost too quiet.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The morning was filled with lots of discussion, a little wondering, and a whole lot of thinking. That, combined with the now quiet, has my brain kicked into overdrive and my <i>freak out mode</i> in full force. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This afternoon, Luke and the girls will do a drive by to see Kenton (with a wind chill of well below zero, a drive by will have to do - sorry little buddy!). I will do a drive by when I head down to school to pick up a few things to work on. Need to get my phonics lessons planned and prepped and caught up before Monday hits. And homework for the next couple of weeks. And perhaps a couple of sets of emergency sub plans depending on what our friend Shauna might need.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The tree will come down this afternoon. Or tomorrow depending on how things go at the dr. with Grammy. And with that, we've survived our 2nd Christmas without Kenton.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Tomorrow is New Year's Eve. Our traditional three gifts should bring laughs and fun and memories (which will bring some sadness, some tears, and a whole lot of missing our boy). We'll light fireworks at the cemetery at midnight, and come home for sprinkle filled pancakes with whipped cream. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And just like that, 2015 will be here. The 2nd year to start without our boy. On the 22nd, we'll mark 2 years that Kenton has been gone.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I think of that, and I wonder - are you proud of us, Bubs? Do you miss us as much as we miss you? Do you think of us as often as we think of you? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And I wonder how we've made it almost two full years without that smile, those hugs, that laugh, and all that love. Or how we'll make it another year...</span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-11827136337779067832014-12-29T17:12:00.002-08:002014-12-29T17:12:28.015-08:00[a mess]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Christmas is over.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">McKayslin's birthday is over.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">New Year's Eve is in 2 days.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">All of this wraps up into one big huge emotional mess of a time of year. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Try as I may, I can not, just can't, make it work. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can't juggle the emotions of everyone in this house while I attempt to juggle my own.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can't put on a smile and go out in public and pretend that my broken heart isn't.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can't spend too much time with the people I love because their sadness echoes my own so deeply that soon we're all just lost in the sad.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So our days consist of reading. TV. Computer time. Tablet time. Cooking. Eating. And lots of time in separate rooms away from each other.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It certainly doesn't help that McKayslin and I both caught some awesome bug last weekend. And that she missed the last 2 days of school. Or that I still am not feeling well. And Grammy is now sick. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It doesn't help that today for dinner I made ham and beans - the one meal Kenton requested I make for him <i>when he was finally better</i> and didn't get to make for him at all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It most definitely doesn't help that our house still looks like Christmas threw up all over because no one has the emotional energy to take it all down and put it all away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today, Luke and I went on a date. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lunch.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Shopping.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mostly to get the things on our list, plus the traditional 3 gifts of New Year's Eve.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's hard.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The memories.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The emotions.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The knowing Kenton doesn't get to do any of this with us anymore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Taking pictures, knowing that I won't ever have any new ones of him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Looking at old pictures, wishing I'd taken more.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Wishing I'd written the memories of the pictures.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Catching up on some scrapbooking.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Heart ripped out of my chest and lying in shards on the floor with each page.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Wondering if the new year will bring an added measure of peace that we so desperately seek. Knowing that the peace will come, but praying that it stays. That it heals.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And just so many other things that are so illogical and unreasonable that I can't even make myself say them out loud...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Feeling like my best will never ever be good enough again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-14666078177838148682014-08-06T08:15:00.000-07:002014-08-06T08:15:37.063-07:00[zion]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On Sunday, our Sunday School lesson was <i>The Gathering of Israel</i>. Our lesson started late. We had exactly 29 minutes. The lesson started out on track as we discussed the physical and spiritual gathering of Israel. And then I shared something I had learned in my lesson study. A quote from Elder Bruce R. McConkie. (I actually used a lot of a talk he'd given in preparing to teach the lesson (<a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/1977/04/come-let-israel-build-zion?lang=eng" target="_blank">Come: Let Israel Build Zion</a>)).</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The message which has come to us is that the Lord will “have mercy upon Zion: for the time to favour her, yea, the set time, is come.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I shall speak of the manner in which the Lord will build up Zion, the manner in which the Lord is having mercy upon Zion, and the part we are expected to play in the building of Zion.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">...</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">as of now, the Lord has laid upon us the responsibility to lay the foundation for that which is to be. We have been commissioned to prepare a people for the second coming of the Son of Man. We have been called to preach the gospel to every nation and kindred and tongue and people. We have been commanded to lay the foundations of Zion and to get all things ready for the return of Him who shall again crown the Holy City with his presence and glory.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Zion is people; Zion is the saints of God; Zion is those who have been baptized; Zion is those who have received the Holy Ghost; Zion is those who keep the commandments; Zion is the righteous...</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After sharing this quote, I asked first, "Where is Zion?" and second, "How is Heavenly Father showing mercy upon us?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The remainder of our lesson was spent discussing Zion. And our Heavenly Father's love of us that is shown so clearly within our Zion. That is one of his greatest mercies. That we are surrounded by those who love, serve, support, guide, and help us along our path.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Zion is right here. It is my own little family. My own little circle of friends. My own extended family. My own little ward. My own stake. Right here. Right now. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What is my responsibility within Zion? </span><span style="background-color: white; color: blue; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">We have been commissioned to prepare a people for the second coming of the Son of Man. We have been called to preach the gospel to every nation and kindred and tongue and people. We have been commanded to lay the foundations of Zion and to get all things ready for the return of Him who shall again crown the Holy City with his presence and glory.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"> Pretty clear.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">As the discussion continued on preparing a people for the second coming of our Savior, we talked a lot about example and service. Like it or not, regardless of our circumstances, and sometimes because of our circumstances, people watch us. They watch what we say. They watch what we do. They watch how we treat those around us. They watch how we respond to challenges and to the task of daily life. I've heard it said many times, "You are always an example - you can be a good one or a bad one, but you're always an example." This is something on which I need to work.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">I really love our ward. I really love our stake. I really love our little town. There are so many great people here. So many people that love our Savior and constantly find ways to lift and serve others, not to say <i>hey look at me, I'm so awesome!</i>, but in a manner that that exemplifies the love of our Savior.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">This discussion brought me up sharply in remembrance of all of the loving acts of service we have received. Meals, money, fundraisers, cards, letters, texts, visits, treats... we live in our own little Zion and it's a pretty great place to live. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">However, that being said, I'll admit that it's been a rough few days. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">The days after a really awesome spiritual experience usually are.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">I need to do better at remembering that.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Remembering that my emotions will be higher. Tighter.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">That my patience will be shorter. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">And that my tolerance level will be non-existent.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Satan is real.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"> </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">And I let him in this week by allowing simple things to breed anger and impatience.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">By responding with annoyance instead of understanding.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">I simply must do better.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">I took an interesting quiz yesterday at <a href="http://www.16personalities.com/">www.16personalities.com</a> . <br />My results: </span><span style="background-color: #fdfdfd;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Your personality type: INFP (turbulent variant)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: #fdfdfd;"><span style="color: red; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Strength of individual traits: Introverted: 83%, Intuitive: 40%, Feeling: 81%, Prospecting: 56%, Turbulent: 93%. </span></span><div>
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<i><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">INFPs are driven by a strong sense of right and wrong and a desire to exercise their creativity, even if only behind the scenes. Their weaknesses include sensitivity to criticism, poor organization, and low assertiveness. Keirsey referred to the INFPs as </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Healer_(role_variant)" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; text-decoration: none;" title="Healer (role variant)">Healers</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">, one of the four types belonging to the temperament he called the </span><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Idealist_temperament" style="background: none rgb(255, 255, 255); color: #0b0080; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px; text-decoration: none;" title="Idealist temperament">Idealists</a><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;">.</span><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-2" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 1; unicode-bidi: -webkit-isolate;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/INFP#cite_note-2" style="background: none; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">[2]</a></sup><span style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22.399999618530273px;"> INFPs are one of the rarer types, accounting for about 4-5% of the population.</span><sup class="reference" id="cite_ref-3" style="background-color: white; color: #252525; font-family: sans-serif; line-height: 1; unicode-bidi: -webkit-isolate;"><a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/INFP#cite_note-3" style="background: none; color: #0b0080; text-decoration: none; white-space: nowrap;">[3]</a></sup></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The turbulent variant part made me a little sad. The best I can figure is that my emotions are still all over the place. I suppose that just gives me an awareness. I can't hide behind my grief. Or use it as an excuse. I can't live there. <b><u><i>I DON'T HAVE TO LIVE THERE!</i></u></b> I can miss Kenton, as I do with every piece of my heart, but I can miss him while still showing an outpouring of love and patience to those around me.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Going forward, my goal is to be less sharp, less critical, more supportive, more forgiving, more understanding. I respond too quickly. Expect too much. Allow hurt to enter too easily. We have been commanded to preach the gospel... and in my experience that mostly comes down to <i>living</i> the gospel. Responding with kindness, patience, love. Doing my part to build up my own little Zion instead of tearing it down. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">Today I am grateful for forgiveness.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">** And, yes, I realize that this post is all over the place and probably makes zero sense to anyone reading it. Not that anyone really does read it, but whatevs. Today I needed to dump my thoughts. That's how I attempt to organize and work through them. I don't know if it worked or not. </span></span></div>
Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-44746458439815116832014-08-04T06:41:00.000-07:002014-08-04T06:41:07.713-07:00[gethsemane]<span style="color: blue; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Jesus climbed the hill</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">To the garden still</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">His steps were heavy and slow</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Love and a prayer</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Took Him there</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">To the place only He could go</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><b><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Gethsemane</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Jesus loves me</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">So He went willingly</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">To Gethsemane</span></i></b><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><b><i><u><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.5px;">He felt all that was sad, wicked or bad</span><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19.5px;">All the pain we would ever know</span></span></u></i></b><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">While His friends were asleep</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">He fought to keep</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">His promise made long ago</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><b><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Gethsemane</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Jesus loves me</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">So He went willingly</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">To Gethsemane</span></i></b><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">The hardest thing That ever was done</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">The greatest pain that ever was known</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">The biggest battle that ever was won</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">This was done by Jesus.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">The fight was won by Jesus.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Gethsemane</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Jesus loves me</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">So he gave His gift to me</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">In Gethsemane</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><b><i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Gethsemane</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Jesus loves me</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">So he gives His gift to me</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;" /><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">From Gethsemane</span></i></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #333333;"><span style="font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Saturday night I went to bed and found myself praying. That's not an unusual occurrence, but this night there were many dear friends on my heart...</span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">In my little circle there are many that are struggling. <br />Aching. <br />Hurting. <br />Feeling lost. <br />Alone. <br />Afraid. <br />And just so sad. <br />Facing trials that could break them.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">As I prayed, I kept repeating the phrase <i>...and please, Father, let them feel thy peace, the peace that only comes through the Atonement. Please...</i></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">With tears on my cheeks and a continued prayer in my heart, I closed my prayer and drifted off to sleep. As I was slipping into sleep, I heard this song. It's one of my favorites. But I've never heard it sung quite like I did that night. A chorus of angels were singing me to sleep, reminding me of the greatest gift I've been given. Helping me recognize and remember the love of our Father and our Savior.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">This morning on Facebook, I read the update on our little friend Ethan that his mom posted last night...</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: grey; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15.359999656677246px;">For those who haven't heard, Ethan has gone steadily downhill on a slippery slope today. He has basically lost one function after another. We were told by the d</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="background-color: white; color: grey; display: inline; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; line-height: 15.359999656677246px;">octors that he will most likely not make it through this. The kids are on their way, and they will make sure to keep him alive until the kids can get here to say their goodbyes. There is a very small chance that things could turn around, but right now, it isn't looking good. I am so grateful for the plan of happiness, and the peace of the gospel. I don't know how we would do this without it.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;"><b>He felt all that was SAD. </b></span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">All of it.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">Even this.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">We're not alone.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">We never have been.</span></span><br />
<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">We never will be.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px; line-height: 19.5px;">I am so grateful.</span></span><br />
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<br />Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-75577999500629467202014-08-02T07:14:00.000-07:002014-08-02T07:18:30.615-07:00[recognizing tender mercies]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yesterday <strike>was</strike> started out as a hard day for me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was grumpy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Short-tempered. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sad.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">McKayslin wanted a friend to play. I don't blame her. I didn't want to be around me either! She called to see if Ella could play. She could! :) They decided to play at Ella's house after lunch.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I dropped McKayslin off and ran in to get a few things in town. Callie and I were texting back and forth (and the girls were sending me hilarious pictures of themselves). I asked Cal when we should start our temple trade-off trips again. We've been talking about it since we decided to take the summer off from trading and have really missed going to the temple on a set schedule. Her text back was something along the lines of <i>How about next week? Unless you want to go tonight!!</i> A few more texts back and forth and it was decided that we'd start up again this week. As in last night. McKayslin was already at her house, so Luke and I would get the first trip. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I sent Luke a text telling him not to pick up McKayslin but to come home and get ready to go to the temple instead. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDvpYeWxj7OQsrFWeXQcCs1uaeh8dcoFjytjUCggjzQ4mIzhTbt8QzwA13H83lZM2qmEL0REUgC0LeU_F4u3HvtNOdldzE79I4Dl-YSqSaVozeWorKHSnks72Tdy88Llrvrt_PJvncs2X/s1600/2014-08-01+17.52.52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXDvpYeWxj7OQsrFWeXQcCs1uaeh8dcoFjytjUCggjzQ4mIzhTbt8QzwA13H83lZM2qmEL0REUgC0LeU_F4u3HvtNOdldzE79I4Dl-YSqSaVozeWorKHSnks72Tdy88Llrvrt_PJvncs2X/s1600/2014-08-01+17.52.52.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We made it to the chapel just seconds after the 3:30 session went up. We sat and listened to the music as we waited for the 4:00 session. The first hymn that I remember hearing was "In Humility Our Savior." And the only phrases I could remember from the hymn were... f<i>ill our hearts with sweet forgiving...teach us tolerance and love...then when we have proven worthy, of thy sacrifice divine, Lord, let us regain thy presence, and let thy glory round us shine.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The first two phrases were for me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Very specifically.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And the last phrase, a promise and a reminder that Kenton is safe, well, and happy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I could feel an underlying excitement running through me as I looked at the name on my card. Lena M. Alford. It was a different feeling than I'd had at the temple before. A feeling of anxious and excited energy. And then I felt the calm familiar feeling I get when Kenton is close. And I knew that we were exactly where we were supposed to be at exactly the right time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The session was small. Less than 30 people. Throughout the session, I continued to feel both that anxious and excited feeling (which I'm thinking must have been Lena) and Kenton's calm and familiar presence. It made me smile. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU3eXhELRIATuUvXkuQVLRH5EyIYRaS_lAfqOzXovFGSiDp02zTftIZ_M5oLFTzEPLOLc-o3ZzUqLXeL6PrVhy2fSzrUTuzLgyNfgiVDbiGoKtsiOW0n7_Fl9Qz64KeRhS-UtYP9iVD7wx/s1600/2014-08-01+17.53.22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU3eXhELRIATuUvXkuQVLRH5EyIYRaS_lAfqOzXovFGSiDp02zTftIZ_M5oLFTzEPLOLc-o3ZzUqLXeL6PrVhy2fSzrUTuzLgyNfgiVDbiGoKtsiOW0n7_Fl9Qz64KeRhS-UtYP9iVD7wx/s1600/2014-08-01+17.53.22.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">During the session, as always, I found myself praying for peace. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For understanding.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For strength.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Usually there's a phrase that sticks out to me a little more than usual. Yesterday it was one simple word, directed at Satan from our Heavenly Father. <i>Depart</i>. Several other phrases became more clear to me as I understood more clearly than ever that the powers of Satan only become <i>powers</i> when we allow them to. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Depression is real. And it's scary. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Anger is real. And it's scary.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Feeling lost and alone and worthless is real. And it's scary.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">At least in my life, those are the powers that Satan uses against me.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">BUT GUESS WHAT?! He can't use them against me if I don't allow him to! Isn't that awesome?! I.am.in.charge of what I let in.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">(Please allow me to add that I KNOW that, in some cases, simply saying he won't be allowed to use these powers does not give some the strength to fight against them without help from an outside source or a medical professional).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For me, I needed to be reminded that I get to choose. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I get to choose if I allow my sad or my mad or whatever I'm feeling that day to take over my day. To take over my week. I GET TO CHOOSE!!! I have to let myself feel each emotion. Locking them up would not be healthy. Or safe. But as I allow myself to feel the anger, the grief, the sadness, the loneliness, I don't have to stay there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I.DON'T.HAVE.TO.STAY.THERE. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As the session progressed, the anxious excitement was getting stronger, pulling, frustrated that things weren't moving faster. It kind of made me giggle. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We prepared to move to the last part of the endowment. I heard Kenton say, "Mom, I have to go now, I'm proud of you. Thank you. I love you." And I felt him leave. I imagine he had one more thing to do to help Lena with this last step.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBviJVxtXPmQJ2MuhSJ9MEDp6oN6kUeh3ynFeVA3kA7vYnrquERLS92ELbeOuaN6ipt57N-skywNj9vro2AkZJy0MaZLyUvBSA4ANo3R_Zy0SLLC8szVDw25YSY8UE3jgxdXfV1pUDMlF/s1600/2014-08-01+17.53.38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiSBviJVxtXPmQJ2MuhSJ9MEDp6oN6kUeh3ynFeVA3kA7vYnrquERLS92ELbeOuaN6ipt57N-skywNj9vro2AkZJy0MaZLyUvBSA4ANo3R_Zy0SLLC8szVDw25YSY8UE3jgxdXfV1pUDMlF/s1600/2014-08-01+17.53.38.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The sweet temple workers directed us to the final step. I could feel Lena tugging on my hand, urging my feet to move faster. I could feel her excitement and her gratitude. Several times I have had confirmation that the work I've done has been accepted. But nothing like yesterday. It was incredible. And such a blessing of peace for my heart to know that my boy is being the great missionary we knew he would be!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As it were, I was the first to enter the Celestial Room. I heard one more quiet thank you, and I was alone again. Tears of gratitude filled my eyes and I felt peace.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I know that's where we were supposed to be. And I know that we wouldn't have gone had Cal not been listening to a prompting and willing to keep McKayslin. I really do have the best friends. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I was studying for my Sunday School lesson last night, I kept coming back to this part. "He gathers them so they will build temples and perform sacred ordinances for ancestors who have died without having this opportunity." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And more specifically to this phrase. This is what my friends do. They <i>strengthen me so I can find protection from the unrighteous influences of this world</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In April, 2005, Elder Bednar gave the talk <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2005/04/the-tender-mercies-of-the-lord?lang=eng" target="_blank">The Tender Mercies of the Lord</a>...</span><br />
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<i><span style="color: purple;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">I have reflected repeatedly upon the phrase “the tender mercies of the Lord.” Through personal study, observation, pondering, and prayer, I believe I have come to better understand that the Lord’s tender mercies are the very personal and individualized blessings, strength, protection, assurances, guidance, loving-kindnesses, consolation, support, and spiritual gifts which we receive from and because of and through the Lord Jesus Christ. Truly, the Lord suits “his mercies according to the conditions of the children of men” (</span><a class="scriptureRef" href="https://www.lds.org/scriptures/dc-testament/dc/46.15?lang=eng#14" style="background-attachment: initial !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: white; background-image: initial !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: initial !important; background-repeat: initial !important; background-size: initial !important; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px; text-decoration: none !important;">D&C 46:15</a><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;">).</span></span></i><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><i><span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><i><span style="color: purple;">We should not underestimate or overlook the power of the Lord’s tender mercies. The simpleness, the sweetness, and the constancy of the tender mercies of the Lord will do much to fortify and protect us in the troubled times in which we do now and will yet live. When words cannot provide the solace we need or express the joy we feel, when it is simply futile to attempt to explain that which is unexplainable, when logic and reason cannot yield adequate understanding about the injustices and inequities of life, when mortal experience and evaluation are insufficient to produce a desired outcome, and when it seems that perhaps we are so totally alone, truly we are blessed by the tender mercies of the Lord...</span></i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><i><span style="color: purple;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><i><span style="color: purple;">I am thankful for the Restoration of the gospel of Jesus Christ through the Prophet Joseph Smith and for the knowledge we have today about the Lord’s tender mercies. Our desires, faithfulness, and obedience invite and help us to discern His mercies in our lives. As one of His servants, I declare my witness that Jesus is the Christ, our Redeemer and our Savior. I know that He lives and that His tender mercies are available to all of us. Each of us can have eyes to see clearly and ears to hear distinctly the tender mercies of the Lord as they strengthen and assist us in these latter days. May our hearts always be filled with gratitude for His abundant and tender mercies.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was reminded, also, of President Eyring's talk in October of 2007. <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2007/10/o-remember-remember?lang=eng&query=President+Henry+B.+Eyring+president+recognizing+god%27s+hand" target="_blank"> O Remember, Remember.</a></span><br />
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<i><span style="color: blue;">I heard in my mind—not in my own voice—these words: “I’m not giving you these experiences for yourself. Write them down.”</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: blue;">I went inside. I didn’t go to bed. Although I was tired, I took out some paper and began to write. And as I did, I understood the message I had heard in my mind. I was supposed to record for my children to read, someday in the future, how I had seen the hand of God blessing our family. Grandpa didn’t have to do what he was doing for us. He could have had someone else do it or not have done it at all. But he was serving us, his family, in the way covenant disciples of Jesus Christ always do. I knew that was true. And so I wrote it down, so that my children could have the memory someday when they would need it.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: blue;">I wrote down a few lines every day for years. I never missed a day no matter how tired I was or how early I would have to start the next day. Before I would write, I would ponder this question: “Have I seen the hand of God reaching out to touch us or our children or our family today?” As I kept at it, something began to happen. As I would cast my mind over the day, I would see evidence of what God had done for one of us that I had not recognized in the busy moments of the day. As that happened, and it happened often, I realized that trying to remember had allowed God to show me what He had done.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: blue;">More than gratitude began to grow in my heart. Testimony grew. I became ever more certain that our Heavenly Father hears and answers prayers. I felt more gratitude for the softening and refining that come because of the Atonement of the Savior Jesus Christ. And I grew more confident that the Holy Ghost can bring all things to our remembrance—even things we did not notice or pay attention to when they happened.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: blue;">The years have gone by. My boys are grown men. And now and then one of them will surprise me by saying, “Dad, I was reading in my copy of the journal about when …” and then he will tell me about how reading of what happened long ago helped him notice something God had done in his day.</span></i></div>
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<i><span style="color: blue;">My point is to urge you to find ways to recognize and remember God’s kindness. It will build our testimonies. You may not keep a journal. You may not share whatever record you keep with those you love and serve. But you and they will be blessed as you remember what the Lord has done. You remember that song we sometimes sing: “Count your many blessings; name them one by one, And it will surprise you what the Lord has done.”<sup class="noteMarker" guid="b6efe582-5273-4abb-8a42-a4c89afe6442" style="line-height: 1;"><a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/print/2007/10/o-remember-remember?lang=eng&clang=eng#2-" style="background-attachment: initial !important; background-clip: initial !important; background-color: transparent !important; background-image: initial !important; background-origin: initial !important; background-position: initial !important; background-repeat: initial !important; background-size: initial !important; text-decoration: none !important;">2</a></sup></span></i></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 18px;"><i><span style="color: blue;">It won’t be easy to remember. Living as we do with a veil over our eyes, we cannot remember what it was like to be with our Heavenly Father and His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ, in the premortal world; nor can we see with our physical eyes or with reason alone the hand of God in our lives. Seeing such things takes the Holy Ghost. And it is not easy to be worthy of the Holy Ghost’s companionship in a wicked world... </span></i></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><i><span style="color: blue;">Tonight, and tomorrow night, you might pray and ponder, asking the questions: Did God send a message that was just for me? Did I see His hand in my life or the lives of my children? I will do that. And then I will find a way to preserve that memory for the day that I, and those that I love, will need to remember how much God loves us and how much we need Him. I testify that He loves us and blesses us, more than most of us have yet recognized. I know that is true, and it brings me joy to remember Him.</span></i></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', Times, serif; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><i><span style="color: blue;"><br /></span></i></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>He loves us. </b></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He blesses us more than most of us have yet recognized.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span></b><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I add my testimony that I know Heavenly Father loves us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I know He is very mindful of us. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And I know that most of the time, our prayers are answered because someone close to us was willing to act on a prompting He sent. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today, I recognize.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And I remember.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am so grateful.</span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-35982681906076089142014-07-31T07:45:00.000-07:002014-07-31T07:45:47.565-07:00[lost in the lights]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Center field. Night game. Playing under the lights. Strong wind.</span><div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">A high fly ball is on a perfect trajectory to be caught. But the wind shifts. And the ball gets momentarily lost in the lights. What could have been an easy play is suddenly not. As the ball drops just out of the line of lights, it falls past the outstretched glove. The runner advances.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The team pulls together. Rallies. And solidly ends the inning leaving the runner on base.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Isn't that how life is? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's so rare that we have perfect weather. No wind. And a clear line of vision.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes, we're on the trajectory of a really good play. A really good day.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But the wind shifts.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Our focus gets momentarily lost in the lights.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And what could have been a really good day, isn't.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Our team pulls together.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Rallies.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Ends the inning.</span></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And we're okay again.</span></div>
Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-49756449334203454892014-07-30T06:48:00.001-07:002014-07-30T06:48:22.944-07:00[not quite a sunday]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have such big plans. Such big ideas. Such high hopes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I sometimes forget that I don't always get my own way.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yesterday was an okay day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It wasn't a <i>Sunday</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• No baseball. Too much rain.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• Still 1 assignment short of assignments that were due on the 28th.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• The bathroom desperately needed cleaning.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• With all of the <a href="https://www.facebook.com/kentonscup" target="_blank">Kenton's Cup</a> merchandise arriving, and the onslaught of school supplies that have appeared in my home, our living room looks like an episode of Hoarders. Minus the bugs. And the rotten food. And the rats. And the feces. (So maybe it's not as bad as I think!).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• <strike>Cried</strike> SOBBED through the song He's My Son (Mark Shulz) when it came on Pandora.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• It was Kenton day. Tuesdays are always just a little sadder.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But it also wasn't a <i>Friday</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• It was a rainy day. I love rainy days. I should have jumped in some puddles. Or gone for a bike ride up to McDonald's to get a chocolate shake like Kenton and I did that one day in the spring of 2012.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• McKayslin got to go play with her <i>sister</i>, Paige.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• I made bread. Wheat bread. From scratch including grinding the wheat. And it was good.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• I cleaned the bathroom (mostly because Josh was coming to recaulk the backsplash, but whatever - it's clean).</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• I finished 3 out of 4 assignments that were actually due on the 28th. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• Had a fun little visit with my <i>sister</i>, Cia.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• Luke did all the dishes. And vacuumed the living room, family room, the hall, AND the stairs. AND he straightened the piles of stuff in the living room so it doesn't look quite so "hoarderish."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• We stopped to see our Kenton.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7jM_dHqg3g9anhSe-tr7uhA4pBXxQAAugaW5r7B_NxqYRFcc_V6cgTlpMwjTHu8QgWCMiF2zwy1BdHlZEVxGQH4rMhFqXbaQ0Gg4Jx2lO1o5l46iu4HSGPm8IhL6TrSNmsbUyCPfZ7Od/s1600/2014-07-29+17.39.27.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgl7jM_dHqg3g9anhSe-tr7uhA4pBXxQAAugaW5r7B_NxqYRFcc_V6cgTlpMwjTHu8QgWCMiF2zwy1BdHlZEVxGQH4rMhFqXbaQ0Gg4Jx2lO1o5l46iu4HSGPm8IhL6TrSNmsbUyCPfZ7Od/s1600/2014-07-29+17.39.27.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">• Dinner was a success. Buttermilk wheat blueberry pancakes from scratch, buttermilk syrup (Kenton syrup as Luke calls it), and bacon. And fried red potatoes.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifGBI5wuTpsfzscJ658V3Q7bQFxpkl0GAvqc8xoAUo6dvTJYkStN6c7nHSxzMJCnHNcxOKAnkGKc_Gwwro0mV5bbZ4XCD6TvCN7lX77fifQF-bzzUK75S6o080EbLIeN4Kv3Kk9847QChq/s1600/2014-07-29+18.29.20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifGBI5wuTpsfzscJ658V3Q7bQFxpkl0GAvqc8xoAUo6dvTJYkStN6c7nHSxzMJCnHNcxOKAnkGKc_Gwwro0mV5bbZ4XCD6TvCN7lX77fifQF-bzzUK75S6o080EbLIeN4Kv3Kk9847QChq/s1600/2014-07-29+18.29.20.jpg" height="400" width="225" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">• McKayslin said family prayer... "<i>and please bless our angel families to feel the peace of <a href="http://www.mormon.org/beliefs/plan-of-salvation" target="_blank">The Plan of Salvation</a>" </i>right after she asked Heavenly Father to please give Kenton the biggest tightest squish He could from us and tell him that we love and miss him so much and thanks for being the best big brother ever.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And we slept well again last night.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">So perhaps yesterday wasn't a <i>Sunday</i>. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But it wasn't a <i>Friday</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Maybe instead it was something along the lines of a <i>Tuesday</i>.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Because it really was an okay day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And some days are like that.</span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-58193339259520163332014-07-29T07:13:00.000-07:002014-07-29T07:22:07.515-07:00[sunday will come]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2006/10/sunday-will-come?lang=eng" target="_blank">Sunday Will Come</a><br />(Elder Joseph B. Worthlin, October 2006, General Conference)</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Over the past 2 years, more specifically over the past year and a half, this has been one of my <i>go to</i> talks. It stays in an open tab on my tablet and on my phone. I find myself reading his words of love and peace several times a week, and sometimes several times a day.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When President Hinckley spoke at Sister Wirthlin’s funeral, he said that it is a devastating, consuming thing to lose someone you love. It gnaws at your soul.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I think of how dark that Friday was when Christ was lifted up on the cross.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On that terrible Friday the earth shook and grew dark. Frightful storms lashed at the earth.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Those evil men who sought His life rejoiced. Now that Jesus was no more, surely those who followed Him would disperse. On that day they stood triumphant.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On that day the veil of the temple was rent in twain.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of Jesus, were both overcome with grief and despair. The superb man they had loved and honored hung lifeless upon the cross.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On that Friday the Apostles were devastated. Jesus, their Savior—the man who had walked on water and raised the dead—was Himself at the mercy of wicked men. They watched helplessly as He was overcome by His enemies.</span></div>
<div class="" id="p41" style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 20px;" uri="/general-conference/2006/10/sunday-will-come.p41">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">On that Friday the Savior of mankind was humiliated and bruised, abused and reviled.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was a Friday filled with devastating, consuming sorrow that gnawed at the souls of those who loved and honored the Son of God.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I think that of all the days since the beginning of this world’s history, that Friday was the darkest.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>But the doom of that day did not endure.</i></span></div>
<div class="" id="p45" style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 20px;" uri="/general-conference/2006/10/sunday-will-come.p45">
<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>The despair did not linger because on Sunday, the resurrected Lord burst the bonds of death.</i> He ascended from the grave and appeared gloriously triumphant as the Savior of all mankind.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And in an instant the eyes that had been filled with ever-flowing tears dried. The lips that had whispered prayers of distress and grief now filled the air with wondrous praise, for Jesus the Christ, the Son of the living God, stood before them as the firstfruits of the Resurrection, the proof that <i>death is merely the beginning of a new and wondrous existence.</i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come.</b></span></div>
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<span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yesterday was a good day. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>A "Sunday."</i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One of those days where things just felt pretty darn good. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">McKayslin had art camp in the morning. She's loved spending her Monday mornings there all summer, creating, laughing, learning. I had just enough time to run to the Wal-Mart to pick up the few things we needed (and perhaps a few new school supplies - shhhh...). After art camp, we grabbed some lunch, and came home. I worked on laundry and cleaned up a little. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Right around 1, we heard the knockity-knock at the door. Analeise was here! I'm not sure who was more excited for this play time, Analeise or McKayslin! Those two little munchkins (McKayslin playing big sister for the day and Analeise playing little sister) ran and played and jumped and colored and played dollies and painted nails and picked beans (because they were looking for more peas but there was an ant hill, ha, ha!) and watched shows and played play-doh. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOUP_KAC-oIfYapCU4RIYhkxzdvgf3l-bIIIHrwDF0KYudJNIiw38XpT770BqRlxLCqyQkcQJhphFV-ehBdOUEzrIhr3u_OY6GhKx_bxildwC92DYNx_ttzmBLBjfYlVv-rPG249Pkm9dn/s1600/AandM_tramp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOUP_KAC-oIfYapCU4RIYhkxzdvgf3l-bIIIHrwDF0KYudJNIiw38XpT770BqRlxLCqyQkcQJhphFV-ehBdOUEzrIhr3u_OY6GhKx_bxildwC92DYNx_ttzmBLBjfYlVv-rPG249Pkm9dn/s1600/AandM_tramp.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I loved the giggles. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I loved watching them play so well together. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I loved hearing Analeise say <i>Goosey </i>and <i>Uncle Wuke.</i><br />She mostly just called me <i>You.</i><br />Ha. <br />Guess we know who her favorites are! ;) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />But I really loved what happened about halfway through the visit.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The girls were tearing through the kitchen on their way to their next grand adventure, when Analeise skidded to a halt in front of the large picture of the kids I have on the kitchen desk. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtejbO10SlGfOnHyXz7wPmV1L4KsJfGGj8KVTj7dDN-Ww4uUDZ7QZ5Y7bMLXy3ArcEqIeWuH0ZcCKGDgdBOqUZDFaetCYh9SmvL1wgDT-9NgCX4YtfdVOeY-Ub2soW-kARyDuTJ9lCYMEn/s1600/IMG_1774.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtejbO10SlGfOnHyXz7wPmV1L4KsJfGGj8KVTj7dDN-Ww4uUDZ7QZ5Y7bMLXy3ArcEqIeWuH0ZcCKGDgdBOqUZDFaetCYh9SmvL1wgDT-9NgCX4YtfdVOeY-Ub2soW-kARyDuTJ9lCYMEn/s1600/IMG_1774.JPG" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">She stopped, looked at the picture, looked at me, looked back at the picture and said, "Ohhhhhhh...." I said, "That's Kenton and McKayslin." She looked at me and back at the picture, and her tone of voice registered recognition and love as she whispered, "Kenton..." McKayslin and I just looked at each other. The moment was quickly over as the girls then sped off to pain their nails.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 21.33333396911621px;"><span style="color: #351c75; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">President Ezra Taft Benson said: “Sometimes the veil between this life and the life beyond becomes very thin. Our loved ones who have passed on are not far from us."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Later as they were playing play-doh, making <i>cacos</i> for <i>Uncle Wuke</i>, Analeise made something else and set it aside. I asked her who that was for. In a very matter of fact way, she shrugged and said, "It's for Kenton."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The play date was over way too soon. That little sweetheart has all of us wrapped around her little finger!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We ate dinner (delicious Kenton favorites of creamed peas and potatoes, steak bites, and fresh green beans - which are now McKayslin's favorites too - except the steak!).</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgllCcdJY7fcaPHgdCX_3akmfGsoI3up0ku3-CY_7bvHyCqTFIZNfJePbVaAnrKvDlyUlMoZ4Kbp-ZChSfJ2GL5wXDsXB38fF6I9kleESj2GMUpdCXImHJO1AjQYx-bMVHFQeK8N4IH5SPL/s1600/dinner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgllCcdJY7fcaPHgdCX_3akmfGsoI3up0ku3-CY_7bvHyCqTFIZNfJePbVaAnrKvDlyUlMoZ4Kbp-ZChSfJ2GL5wXDsXB38fF6I9kleESj2GMUpdCXImHJO1AjQYx-bMVHFQeK8N4IH5SPL/s1600/dinner.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br />And headed off to Smithfield to watch that <i>biggest brother</i> play some baseball again. <br />It was perfect baseball watching weather. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And perfect company. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The game was pretty slow. Tied 1-1 for a while. And then 3-3 for a while. Tay was up to bat, bottom of the 7th, 2 outs, winning run on 2nd, with the score tied at 3. Ha, no pressure there. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfPcPu36j6BTfzAGNpDXujClLgmY17syIRopLBLz8-CxLbf6-PkxDYQ3CQ5olo68oWw2UKp-0yhr-0Ti4RsMlJnmcMXu1OY8g-vIJbGsG4-gsA3rXWPN8QsQ8CMBOekW5naBckEZQvywpm/s1600/2014-07-28+21.07.11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfPcPu36j6BTfzAGNpDXujClLgmY17syIRopLBLz8-CxLbf6-PkxDYQ3CQ5olo68oWw2UKp-0yhr-0Ti4RsMlJnmcMXu1OY8g-vIJbGsG4-gsA3rXWPN8QsQ8CMBOekW5naBckEZQvywpm/s1600/2014-07-28+21.07.11.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white;">He </span>pounded one into the field, bringing the runner in. <br />The end. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We love watching baseball. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I can always feel Kenton close for a few minutes during each game. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Game over we stopped for ice cream and came home. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And we slept well again. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I hope I don't jinx us by saying that...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yesterday was indeed <i>a "Sunday."</i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What's interesting to me about these <i>Sundays</i>, is that they don't come and stay. <br />I don't think we'd appreciate them as much if they did. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">They come around once in a while, just like regular Sundays do. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">These days of smiles and peace and all day happy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And on these <i>Sundays</i>, Kenton is so close. <br />Just as close as other days, certainly, but it's a different close. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's an <i>I'm proud of you guys</i> kind of close. <br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And on these <i>Sundays</i>, I know he's giving us that trademark grin and a double thumbs up. <br /></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoTcpyAzTXWwHKiwsJEJROdbNlgXvEdmtukp1WWfkaOi8EUv3Tn7TP58oScnOi7AtXgmXKa0s-6RkfMDfXuZLrtl4BqGu-cBQnNhP0tmqXsDkE8XZXmLd2VsIilkQSKucGh1xFvCha-H_a/s1600/IMG_0044.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoTcpyAzTXWwHKiwsJEJROdbNlgXvEdmtukp1WWfkaOi8EUv3Tn7TP58oScnOi7AtXgmXKa0s-6RkfMDfXuZLrtl4BqGu-cBQnNhP0tmqXsDkE8XZXmLd2VsIilkQSKucGh1xFvCha-H_a/s1600/IMG_0044.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Because <i>Sundays</i> are family days. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Tradition days. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Kenton's favorite kinds of days.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today is Tuesday. <br />Kenton day. <br />Tears are always a little closer and emotions a little tighter on Tuesdays. <br /><br />We miss our boy. <br /><br />We miss his hugs, his smiles, his laugh, his joy in everyday living. <br /><br />We.just.miss.him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Until we are reunited as an eternal family, we will miss him.<br /><br />Today we'll have pancakes and bacon for dinner. <br />Maybe even blueberry pancakes with buttermilk syrup. <br />And bacon. <br />Because it's Tuesday.<br /></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiaeFVJDbxIQrhYLxT4yGlCw9Xp0jIUf6ddm4zD9s84UrecaF9Z9VLS4aPEfht5L8e79jvB2tQXw3oo8jUOmhI2hBGS7bWgo_xo1ctuG34sLCQ6ETVszkCcA0los4aSg9iJLCdyM6PaSUK/s1600/2012-08-23+08.10.55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiaeFVJDbxIQrhYLxT4yGlCw9Xp0jIUf6ddm4zD9s84UrecaF9Z9VLS4aPEfht5L8e79jvB2tQXw3oo8jUOmhI2hBGS7bWgo_xo1ctuG34sLCQ6ETVszkCcA0los4aSg9iJLCdyM6PaSUK/s1600/2012-08-23+08.10.55.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And we'll go see our boy. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And then we'll go watch some baseball. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Because sometimes, even Tuesdays can be <i>Sundays</i>.</span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-36543201165212025982014-07-28T06:17:00.003-07:002014-07-28T06:17:46.848-07:00[grateful in any circumstance]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That was our Relief Society lesson yesterday.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2014/04/grateful-in-any-circumstances?lang=eng" target="_blank">Grateful in Any Circumstance_President Uchtdorf</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'm going to be totally honest when I say it really touched a raw nerve (or 5!) for me. I think there are a lot of misconceptions about this topic. About this <i>attitude of gratitude</i> if you will.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Don't get me wrong. We do need to be grateful. And we do need to <i>acknowledge </i>our blessings AT ALL TIMES AND IN ALL THINGS. I'm not saying we shouldn't.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And perhaps my <i>last raw nerve</i> was strung so tightly yesterday that I couldn't appreciate the conversation during the lesson...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I don't know.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What I do know is this: President Uchtdorf counsels us to be grateful <i>in </i>any circumstance. NOT <i>for</i> every circumstance. That's a great comfort to me. I don't HAVE to be grateful that Kenton had leukemia. I don't HAVE to be grateful that he died (because seriously?!?!?!?).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But what I do HAVE to do is be grateful for the blessings and knowledge that came during and from those circumstances.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful that both Luke and I were given one on one time with each of our children. Time to focus only on that kiddo. Time to develop a stronger relationship. Time to learn about each other. Time to teach each other. Time to strengthen our eternal family bonds.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Grateful that our friends stepped up so quickly and with so much energy pulling off the most amazing fundraisers that we did not have to worry about how our bills would be paid, or how we would afford to travel to Salt Lake and back multiple times a week, or how we could have a <i>halfway house</i> for Luke and Kenton to live in post transplant. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful for the friends that stepped in and each had a "McKayslin day" during the week so she wouldn't be so bored and lonely.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />Grateful that our Hyrum 8th ward family took to heart the scripture in Mosiah18:8-9...<i>and now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are </i><b style="font-style: italic;">willing to bear one another's burdens, that they may be light; Yeah, and are willing to <u>mourn</u> with those that mourn; yea and <u>comfort</u> those that stand in need of comfort... </b>and took such good care of our little family in our times of greatest trial. Grateful for the months of lawn mowing, and garden watering/weeding, and Sparky tending, and meals, and garden picking/preserving. Grateful for letters and texts and emails and visits and gifts.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful for the staff at Lincoln Elementary, my friends, that so generously provided financial gifts to us at the exact time in which they were needed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful for our families that prayed, and called, and visited.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful that Grammy took months off of work and spent her summer here as well, helping take care of the kids. Grateful for the relationship that they developed with her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful for Kenton's friends, teachers, scout leaders who never left him out and who made a very concentrated effort to include him and let him feel of their love.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful for the hundreds of times our names were put on the prayer rolls of the temple. We didn't get the miracle we had hoped for, but what we did get was peace. And strength. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBGDGjJqFm9t7D2Y9_DQgbsptwWhRY3oLCPWOXIGdITksU91eTHcFywEJ5OvHwmr4VzqpCT-0558BQmWQ1_GE9wFif29how7huTtW2GVs_u5Jd4Cv9vy2XvExI_UGn-By6dqoXvlzf3y9/s1600/IMG_3327.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYBGDGjJqFm9t7D2Y9_DQgbsptwWhRY3oLCPWOXIGdITksU91eTHcFywEJ5OvHwmr4VzqpCT-0558BQmWQ1_GE9wFif29how7huTtW2GVs_u5Jd4Cv9vy2XvExI_UGn-By6dqoXvlzf3y9/s1600/IMG_3327.JPG" height="320" width="238" /></a><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful for the friends that dropped everything and came to the hospital to visit even when I'd told them I was fine. Because they knew I wasn't. I recall most specifically the day in June, a really really hard day for both Kenton and I. We were both sad and scared. And lonely. I'd told several friends that we were doing fine. Not to worry about us. I didn't think either of us needed anyone viewing our pity party. And suddenly, at the window of Kenton's door, we see Heidi-mom, a plate of treats in one hand (which happened to be the treat Kenton was craving that day!), and Knox in his carseat in the other. She came. Because she knew we weren't okay. And she didn't listen to me when I said we were.<br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Grateful for friends (and sometimes complete strangers!) that generously provided financial support at a time that was so needed. Grateful for </span><i style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">those that wish to remain anonymous </i><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">that completely paid for Kenton's funeral expenses. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful to <i>understand </i>and <i>appreciate</i> the power of The Atonement.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful for loving ward and stake leadership that always came when called to give blessings. And sometimes just showed up to do so because they knew we wouldn't ask.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful for so many things that I know I've failed to mention.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We can, and SHOULD, choose to be grateful <i>in</i> any circumstance. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Every.single.day we miss our Kenton. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Every.single.day I wish that we could have kept him here on earth. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Every.single.day I pray for understanding and peace. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And still, every.single.day I find that there are dozens of moments of grateful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">President Uchtdorf said:<br /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;"><span style="color: #38761d;"><i><b>We can choose to be like the Prophet Joseph Smith, who, while a prisoner in miserable conditions in Liberty Jail, penned these inspired words: “Dearly beloved brethren, let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed.”</b></i></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b><br />We can choose to be grateful, no matter what.</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b>This type of gratitude transcends whatever is happening around us. It surpasses disappointment, discouragement, and despair. It blooms just as beautifully in the icy landscape of winter as it does in the pleasant warmth of summer.</b></i></span></div>
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<span style="color: #38761d; font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b><u>When we are grateful to God in our circumstances, we can experience gentle peace in the midst of tribulation. In grief, we can still lift up our hearts in praise. In pain, we can glory in Christ’s Atonement. In the cold of bitter sorrow, we can experience the closeness and warmth of heaven’s embrace.</u></b></i></span></div>
Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-79296853362379711572014-07-27T11:05:00.000-07:002014-07-27T11:05:27.984-07:00[facing the crazy]<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Some days (weeks, months, years??) I find myself in a whirlpool of crazy that doesn't seem to have an exit. A whirlpool of sad, and scared, and angry, and alone. When I hit the center of that whirlpool, spinning in dizzying circles of grief and anger and loneliness, I'm not myself. I'm just an awfully confused person trying to figure out whether it's safer to ride out the whirlpool or shut this crazy down as quickly as possible.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Yesterday, particularly, was one of those days.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I felt the whirlpool begin last Sunday morning, and throughout the week, the tug and pull and dark just kept getting stronger, darker, scarier. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After Jason's funeral yesterday, I just had nothing left with which to fight. I was done. Ready to come home, succumb to the crazy and just ride it out at home in my pajamas with a healthy dose of Diet Coke and chocolate, knowing that today I wouldn't feel much better, but not knowing what else to do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And then Luke said that Taylor's game had been moved from 11 to 2. It was 1:30...and we needed to eat lunch. After a few texts from Cia, and a very kind offering from President, and a delicious lunch at Juniper Take Out, we found ourselves on the benches at Logan High watching Taylor play. And just like that, I realized, <i>again, </i>that it takes friends to hold me up when I face the crazy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It was a good game. The sun was shining. McKayslin loved being there with Dani and Cameron and President and Cia and watching her <i>biggest brother </i>play ball. I loved being there with friends that just stand with us as the crazy rolls on through - no judgment, no backing down, no expectations. (And now, dang it, my good make-up day was just ruined as the tears course down my cheeks yet again!).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Did I mention that the sun was shining? It was a very warm day. I loved it. Everyone else said it was so very hot. Nothing quite like baking your brains out on metal bleachers watching baseball. :)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6RsmWZATPwBQWqw160l2p29bCve1VIohuX8SM3vMxaY9S_XDUf9r-NOeX-XK-LPWE-OMooDEiKlEDC_uuUT5J82k4JZVWp-TsfApWSWnyZNJKMQJKQyk34B4c1JWY8LqcOgQDaEsSaSa/s1600/2014-07-26+15.30.48.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQ6RsmWZATPwBQWqw160l2p29bCve1VIohuX8SM3vMxaY9S_XDUf9r-NOeX-XK-LPWE-OMooDEiKlEDC_uuUT5J82k4JZVWp-TsfApWSWnyZNJKMQJKQyk34B4c1JWY8LqcOgQDaEsSaSa/s1600/2014-07-26+15.30.48.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After the game, we headed home. Our plans for home were interrupted by another text (and then a phone call, ha, ha!) insisting that we come boating...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I hate water. Let me clarify... I <b><u><i>HATE</i></u></b> WATER! I'm terrified of being in large open bodies of water. McKayslin, not so much. Luke, maybe a little bit. But our Acevedo family was pretty insistent, and within the hour we were on the lake. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTdWwWchAW0WRyeiXxirA-gpKg_HK94KT_dbmI5hI3-2svsJ9t4wEViOK4XuyfZGfSIL2Rs1rpxOK18vybPyDfZk2Bo5RZVFdImppDSfxKt-9DYQhDnTDaJregFaXsHBcAzCAtPOvoY1be/s1600/2014-07-26+18.00.24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTdWwWchAW0WRyeiXxirA-gpKg_HK94KT_dbmI5hI3-2svsJ9t4wEViOK4XuyfZGfSIL2Rs1rpxOK18vybPyDfZk2Bo5RZVFdImppDSfxKt-9DYQhDnTDaJregFaXsHBcAzCAtPOvoY1be/s1600/2014-07-26+18.00.24.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">McKayslin loved being on the water. In the water. She jumped in and swam around and loved being loved by her <i>other family</i>. Her safe place.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxhyphenhyphenLezgf5t_WxqYTFLGmrP7yDcvyTADEOeJZqzfc0pX5SsV2jbMdvu9QuQUto1dCKxOgbBJD8Wxi4EP-F-QSVMvLdYJxkiLFKryCs1D9nzc-Rp4ss9RuQcCkf4Ajp3WWttu1ElHv7jciT/s1600/2014-07-26+17.58.28.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxhyphenhyphenLezgf5t_WxqYTFLGmrP7yDcvyTADEOeJZqzfc0pX5SsV2jbMdvu9QuQUto1dCKxOgbBJD8Wxi4EP-F-QSVMvLdYJxkiLFKryCs1D9nzc-Rp4ss9RuQcCkf4Ajp3WWttu1ElHv7jciT/s1600/2014-07-26+17.58.28.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I loved watching the tenderness and care that those big boys use with her. They tease her like crazy, but every once in a while, when they think no one is watching, there's a hand on a shoulder, a gentle smile, and sometimes even a hug. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I'm sure it's frustrating altering plans and the normal way of doing things to accommodate other people. I know it is. But not once in the whole day with our Acevedo family, did we feel that we were frustrating to them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Bubs would have loved yesterday. He would have loved being there to show love and support for our dear Wiberg friends as they said good-bye to Jason, because Kenton KNEW and understood the Plan of Salvation. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He would have loved cheering for Tay. Because watching baseball is <i>almost</i> as good as playing baseball!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And he absolutely would have LOVED being on the water!! Some of my favorite pictures of Kenton are from his one and only scout camp (circa 2011) down at Peterson Beach. He spent nearly the whole camp in the water...</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3QKD0L_7BAFx8afwqtOLzO7oBWUWB_8HeOA6Yw5cXA4vwlo3TVk6cAATtI9LlWpRQbmN6LX0nyEAHjYBopGG0qG2abdKkgfMVYEaHb2U90oacuNRMWWP3fsty8fxQX4DHf3NHJ20Xe5cT/s1600/1175594_10201843928522371_1791783171_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3QKD0L_7BAFx8afwqtOLzO7oBWUWB_8HeOA6Yw5cXA4vwlo3TVk6cAATtI9LlWpRQbmN6LX0nyEAHjYBopGG0qG2abdKkgfMVYEaHb2U90oacuNRMWWP3fsty8fxQX4DHf3NHJ20Xe5cT/s1600/1175594_10201843928522371_1791783171_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4LpL2nl7wIx_Jk8dxtrq5uFjECxDATvtHoq-lZNkYYpen6SOGicixDH4LW8Rv6ZTF-XimLpdHg1mwh-WiO3aL07WMRoqH85ch1ynGqfjabPV5kGl5JPCntvwGZxcOGeHsQGo1JYO6QEOn/s1600/1236573_10201843927122336_2143000440_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4LpL2nl7wIx_Jk8dxtrq5uFjECxDATvtHoq-lZNkYYpen6SOGicixDH4LW8Rv6ZTF-XimLpdHg1mwh-WiO3aL07WMRoqH85ch1ynGqfjabPV5kGl5JPCntvwGZxcOGeHsQGo1JYO6QEOn/s1600/1236573_10201843927122336_2143000440_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8IeWgwg2DsQGoJLuouOZdZBTbQVv4MTKDn_wcBRSXzUQ763dnhvLFn5a-pe1J0fCJPOa8aaFXVbFrRE8Zij8xoRMvVB-tO2XIBJiAVgVNKCDw-z3x35CNWK0K60lH9p2afA_uWoCm69p/s1600/1238206_10201843931402443_1419049011_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_8IeWgwg2DsQGoJLuouOZdZBTbQVv4MTKDn_wcBRSXzUQ763dnhvLFn5a-pe1J0fCJPOa8aaFXVbFrRE8Zij8xoRMvVB-tO2XIBJiAVgVNKCDw-z3x35CNWK0K60lH9p2afA_uWoCm69p/s1600/1238206_10201843931402443_1419049011_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But most of all, just like the rest of us, he would have loved being with his Acevedo family. His safe place. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Oh how we miss our boy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We came home, just a little more pink than we started the day, but in a whole lot better place. The night came, and we slept. Soundly. Well. Not haunted by the whirlpool that only 12 hours earlier had threatened to shatter me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This morning, I woke up, laced up my shoes, and headed up to see my boy. I love Sunday morning sunrises with Kenton. I love spending time up there, feeling him close. Talking to him. There are always tears. But sometimes there are smiles, too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This morning the tears were sad tears, missing Kenton tears, but they were also tears of gratitude. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Gratitude for friends that step into the crazy and face it with me. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have many that do. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am so blessed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-79348318722760900432014-07-21T23:43:00.001-07:002014-07-21T23:43:21.379-07:00the power of one<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's midnight. I've been debating whether or not to sit and write all afternoon. I guess the answer is that I need to just get my thoughts out - coherent or not.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I've been thinking a lot this week about the power of one. Sitting in our living room right now are four large boxes full of toys, games, play-doh, coloring books, and craft kits. All of those items given to us by friends, family, and followers of Team Kenton in honor of Kenton's birthday. Soon those boxes of gifts will be delivered to PCMC - specifically the ICS floor. We couldn't have done that on our own. We couldn't have even come close to doing that on our own. But when so many people pitched in just a little, amazing things happened.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">11 days from now, we will participate in <a href="https://www.facebook.com/Allisasrun4wishes" target="_blank">Allisa's Run For Wishes</a> in memory of sweet Allisa Berry on what would be her 21st birthday. Proceeds from this race go directly to Make-A-Wish Utah. Kenton's wish is one of our favorite ways to remember him. Make-A-Wish does great things.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">18 days from now, we will participate in the <a href="http://www.anythingforafriend.com/" target="_blank">F2TF 5K</a> . This is our 2nd year for this race. Last year was incredible. Beautiful. Powerful. Proceeds from this race go to the <a href="http://fight2thefinish.com/come-see-what-hope-looks-like/" target="_blank">Giving Tree</a> project. We were humbled, grateful, and so blessed to receive one of these trees shortly after Kenton died.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I know both Allisa's mom and Tyler's mom personally. Beautiful strong women. Full of faith and strength. Both fighting to make a difference in honor of their brave and precious warriors who, like Kenton, won their fight against cancer on the eternal playing field.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The power of one. Alone it's not much. But my one and your one and someone else's one, that is something. Something big. Something brave. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I've felt almost like an outsider in my own life this month. Sometimes I think we're blessed to feel numb. Heavenly Father knows our <i>triggers</i>. Those memories and traditions that will stop us in our tracks, heart beating too fast, unable to breathe moments. And He gives us the ability to feel without really feeling, to watch without really seeing. Numb.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I've watched this month unfold, I've seen texts and treats and phone calls and visits and emails and Facebook posts and cards and gifts show up - our friends, each of them doing what they can to help us through. All of those little moments of one build into something strong. Something healing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We are so blessed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I know this little blog is sorely neglected. It's hard for me to write. Sometimes I feel like I should write about our day to day life. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I should write about how proud I am of McKayslin. About how she gets up each day determined to make the world just a little happier. About how, even in her own sadness and grief, reaches out to those around her, lifting them, cheering them. About how she bravely faces each <i>new same thing. </i>I should write about how she giggles as she remembers summers with Kenton, and about how she encourages us to just be strong.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I should write about the things we do. And how, in our attempt to choose happiness, we really are able to feel moments of genuine happy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And then I feel guilty that our day to day life is, in fact, moving forward. Without Kenton. His memories are safely tucked in our hearts. We speak of him often. Remember him with so much love. Miss him with so much sorrow. But the truth is that life.just.moves.forward. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's not a new normal. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It's different.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It will never be <i>normal</i>.</span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It hurts. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And it's hard. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And none of it makes much sense.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This weekend our little neighborhood and ward family will say good-bye to one of our own. Jason may not have battled cancer, that battle might have been easier. His battles were hard. Heartbreaking. Yet his insight into the love of our Heavenly Father and his testimony of The Atonement would often catch me off guard during a Sunday School lesson as he quietly shared moments when he acquired that knowledge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That kind of deep, abiding faith often comes as a result of trudging through darkness, one foot in front of the other, praying desperately for a glimpse of eternity, longing for peace. The faith that you simply must cling to because it's the only thing that makes any sense. When faced with sorrow that threatens to consume you, you have to live in that place in which you only once believed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today I sat at the piano as I often do when seeking peace, playing through the hymns. I usually play whatever hymn opens as I turn the pages of the book. Today (yesterday now, I suppose), 4 different times in the course of 15 minutes or so, I turned to "Abide With Me, 'Tis Eventide." I seem to <i>understand</i> the messages being sent better through music than any other way...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>...O Savior, stay this night with me;</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Behold, 'tis eventide.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>O Savior, stay this night with me...</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i>Behold, 'tis eventide.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Our <i>eventide</i> is our life now, learning, still, always learning, to live as a lopsided earthly family.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The power of one. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The power of the One.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One so holy, so perfect, so willing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One in whom I find peace.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Strength.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And even joy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Tonight, I am grateful.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful to know that Kenton's earthly mission was completed faithfully and that he's serving well on the other side. We feel glimpses of that eternal mission and know that he's okay.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful in the promise of eternal life and forever families.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful for a loving Heavenly Father and elder brother Jesus Christ.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grateful that through that One, I feel peace.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There really is power in one.</span>Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-71057923456246867162014-07-09T09:59:00.000-07:002014-07-22T12:28:33.313-07:00What my little Fierce Tigers taught me about showing up<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I was McKayslin's softball coach this summer (along with Callie and Maria). Our little team of 11 girls had 3 players that had played before. 8 that were new to the sport, and of those 8, 2 who were very young compared to the rest of the team.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Learning something new takes time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A lot of time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And a lot of practice. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Each of my little fierce tigers had to learn how to catch, how to throw, how to run the bases, how to field, how to pitch, how to play catcher, and how to hit the ball. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">How to play as a team.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We practiced twice a week and played twice a week for most of the month of June. Those little tigers worked so hard. They rarely complained. And we worked them hard.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They practiced the same drills over and over and over until fielding a grounder was second nature. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Until swinging a bat felt natural. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Until throwing a ball became automatic.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Each inning they were expected to participate as a team in cheering each other on (this rarely required any reminders from their coaches - they were such an awesome little team!) when it was our turn to bat, and to be supportive in the field, while playing whichever position I put them in without complaint.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And honestly, in all of our <i>four days of softball a week, </i>the complaints I heard could be counted on one hand (and most of those came from the coach!). Those 11 little tigers just did.not.give.up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our "win/loss" record wasn't great.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By score, we won two games.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But you know what was so awesome about these little tigers? Even when the final score didn't show a win, <i>they won because they showed up, they had fun, they worked together, they smiled, they encouraged each other, and they just.did.not.give.up.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">July is a hard month.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's always been Kenton's favorite month.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The 4th of July.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His birthday and birthday trip.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The 24th of July.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fireworks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Camping.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Swimming.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Backyard fires.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But now, our Julys are tempered with the lonely ache of missing our Kenton.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sadness locked in to each promised continued tradition.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hurt in each adapted tradition.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Instead of watching the Hyrum 4th of July parade, last year and this year, we participated, promoting Kenton's Cup (August 28-30, 2014).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We went to Richmond for ice cream. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just like every year.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I had Funky Fudge (Kenton's favorite).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Instead of ordering pizza and parking near a field to play frisbee or catch until fireworks, we picked up take out and had a picnic and watched fireworks at the cemetery.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our McDonald Family joined us and brought along a Cream Soda party and glow sticks just about dark. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We haven't had a backyard fire yet.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But we will.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And I'll eat a S'Mintz for Kenton.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Saturday is Kenton's birthday.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His 14th.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His 2nd in Heaven.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We'll start the morning with a session at the Brigham City temple with our Acevedo Family.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We'll share some laughs with Grammy and our McDonald Family at Who Shot Juanito Bandito in the afternoon. And we'll end the day with dinner at Texas Roadhouse and then a visit with Kenton. We'll take balloons and treats and a little Schleich Clyde that McKayslin picked out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Next week, we'll make a trip to Salt Lake to deliver games and toys and coloring books and play-doh to PCMC in honor of Kenton. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We get to do that because we have awesome friends.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who knows...maybe we'll even go camping before July is over.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even almost 18 months later, living with grief, without Kenton, is still so new to us.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Learning something new takes time. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A lot of time. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And a lot of practice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We roll through the same emotions over and over and over until breathing through a panic attack becomes second nature. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Until wading through waves of grief feels almost natural. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Until smiling once again becomes automatic.</span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But to do that, we have to just.show.up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Day after day, hour after hour, minute by minute, we have to just.show.up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We're doing a little better with that.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Our friends are so much like my little fierce tigers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They're our team. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They just show up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They show up with love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With understanding.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With encouragement.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And they never complain that during <i>that inning</i> we're a little less ourselves than what they'd hoped to receive.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That we're different than how we <i>used to be</i>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They just don't.give.up on us, regardless of how many times we give up on ourselves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And maybe, although the scoreboard of smiles vs. tears doesn't show it, July will be a win, </span><i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">because we'll show up, we'll have fun, we'll work together, we'll smile, we'll encourage each other, and we just.will.not.give.up.</i></div>
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<i style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That's what Kenton taught me too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Show up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Don't give up.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">You are enough.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3505087805867941169.post-73324350246940440602014-05-25T18:41:00.000-07:002014-07-21T23:45:24.754-07:00May 25<div style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.31999969482422px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
May 25, 2010.<br />
Kenton absolutely loved playing goalie for the Destroyers. He wasn't the tallest, or the fastest, but he always stood strong in that goal box, knocking down goals, and not giving up.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQPgTYebgDZ79-3kacTLLOk38MMk2VHNyBfTaTzs0gzqiH_FWcxFfzc26NqCfrfskTvrfKhVm8SWzkSpCUNHdWqJRZF_FHw55aw_ADdgPAVHSNYVYBp7403CEAvmRNh5Z_HNyFr0X3lBU/s1600/IMG_7030.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyQPgTYebgDZ79-3kacTLLOk38MMk2VHNyBfTaTzs0gzqiH_FWcxFfzc26NqCfrfskTvrfKhVm8SWzkSpCUNHdWqJRZF_FHw55aw_ADdgPAVHSNYVYBp7403CEAvmRNh5Z_HNyFr0X3lBU/s1600/IMG_7030.JPG" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
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That's the same philosophy he used as catcher/3rd baseman for the Hyrum Cardinals in 2011, and the Hyrum Yankees in 2012. Standing strong, giving his all.</div>
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It wasn't just in the sports arena that Kenton exhibited this quality. This was how he lived.</div>
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Kenton knew that his best was enough.<br />
Win or lose, he was enough.</div>
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Wouldn't it be great if we could all live that way?<br />
Always give our very best and know that win or lose, we are enough?!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
Grieving families have a different level of "best" each day. Some days we can almost be normal. Other days, it's all we can do to get out of bed, get dressed, go to work, and then come back home. And some days, even that is too much. In fact, I think this is true for most everyone, grieving or not.</div>
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Our best is all we can give.<br />
And it IS enough.</div>
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Let us be gentle with each other. And with ourselves.</div>
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I hope there's soccer in heaven!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
And baseball, and karate, and wrestling, and guitars, and pianos, and singing, and endless sketch pads and art supplies!!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
Missing you always, loving you forever, handsome boy!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 6px; margin-top: 6px;">
<br /></div>
</div>
Debhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14702876813807591022noreply@blogger.com1