Sometimes you just have to let all your expectations, dreams, hopes, and plans shatter on the ground. Then stomp on them. Because let's be honest, life NEVER turns out the way you expect it to, or the way you want it to. It is full of change (unexpected and expected). I like to think that we're all on a hike of life, and on this hike, there are caves, rivers, mountains, hills, trees, rocks, and cliffs. Nobody is exempt from these obstacles, even though they move, change shape, and randomly appear/disappear at will. Most of them are just part of the trail, but some are made by the choices we make.
There are people out there that are easy to look at and think they have it all figured out, or made for them, or handed to them. That their lives are perfect. And you wish your life was like theirs. But behind closed doors, we have NO idea what trials they are facing.
I remember working at an insurance office, and part of my duties were filing the claims and reports once and agent was done with them. But all these files had to be labeled and put in specific hard copy files so they could be referred to at any time (in paper or computer form). Of course, it's easy to save things on the computer, but some of these files were huge, and I had to save them in boxes store for safe keeping on the off chance they would need them again (just in case). Well, while I was working there, I found out a lot about people I knew who had the "perfect" lives (from the outside). But by seeing their insurance claims, I found out they had their fair share of trials to deal with, that went unseen by their neighbor's eye. It really helped me to understand that we all have trials, not matter how okay we look on the outside. In fact, it's usually the people who are the happiest, or put on the happiest face, that have some of the greatest trials. Why is that?
Anyway, there is a point in all of this. I guess my point is, that life is full of surprises, and that it's better to be flexible, roll with the punches, and open to God's hand in our lives, than trying to control and determine everything. I mean, if we turn things over to God, and trust Him, having faith that He can do more with our lives than we can, then we will be pleasantly surprised. It's when we give up trying to control everything and everyone around us that we become the happiest. In our freedom is when we learn who we are and what we can truly handle/do with our lives. Maybe that's the secret those happy people have figured out. That trials make them stronger. To trust God through it all. To give it all to God. To have faith. That we're all in this together. That life is short, so it's best to live it with a smile. Whatever the secret, it's inspiring to see people triumph through their trials.
The reason why I'm writing about change and trials is because we have some big changes coming up in our lives. We view the trials as opportunities, and even though some of these opportunities require extra hard work or faith, they help us grow. Here's to growth! We must need it, because it's happening again.
Monday, January 18, 2016
New baby
http://kayleewrites.blogspot.com/2016/01/write-about-good-discovery-you-have-made.html
Our latest and greatest news. We have another little one on the way. And we found out what we're having. This is a game changer. Super excited!
Our latest and greatest news. We have another little one on the way. And we found out what we're having. This is a game changer. Super excited!
Thursday, December 3, 2015
The white flakes fall like snow.
http://kayleewrites.blogspot.com/2015/12/you-look-outside-ah-its-snowing-but.html?m=1
The white flakes fall like snow. They don't melt when they hit the ground. It's June and eighty degrees outside. They should melt. But they simply fall, then stay. I reach down and touch one. It sticks to my pointer finger, like snow would, but it's not cold. It looks like sugar. I wonder if it tastes like sugar too. I open my mouth to take a lick, but my phone rings.
The caller ID reads my boyfriend, Lewie. I hurry to pick it up, dusting the white stuff off my finger in the process.
"Hey baby, how are you?"
"Been better. There is a bunch of crap falling from the sky. It keeps sticking to my windshield and I can't get it off, even when I use the wipers. Everyone is having the same problem, and traffic is backed up all over. I don't know how I'm going to make it home. I can't even get out of the parking lot."
"Can't you walk?" I ask. His apartment is a block from mine, which puts him about 15 blocks from work.
"Not if I want to live. I hear this stuff falling from the sky is toxic waste. Who knows what will happen if it touches you.".... (Click on link to finish story)
The white flakes fall like snow. They don't melt when they hit the ground. It's June and eighty degrees outside. They should melt. But they simply fall, then stay. I reach down and touch one. It sticks to my pointer finger, like snow would, but it's not cold. It looks like sugar. I wonder if it tastes like sugar too. I open my mouth to take a lick, but my phone rings.
The caller ID reads my boyfriend, Lewie. I hurry to pick it up, dusting the white stuff off my finger in the process.
"Hey baby, how are you?"
"Been better. There is a bunch of crap falling from the sky. It keeps sticking to my windshield and I can't get it off, even when I use the wipers. Everyone is having the same problem, and traffic is backed up all over. I don't know how I'm going to make it home. I can't even get out of the parking lot."
"Can't you walk?" I ask. His apartment is a block from mine, which puts him about 15 blocks from work.
"Not if I want to live. I hear this stuff falling from the sky is toxic waste. Who knows what will happen if it touches you.".... (Click on link to finish story)
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Return from the Dead (Almost)
I am finally writing again. I'm taking baby steps...One of my very dear friends, who is also an author and editor, started texting me the other day about how my work is coming along. Of course, with a 3 year old boy, who is the most adorable and active little guy I know, I stay too busy to sit down and get in the writing zone. So, it's non existent. My friend, Jewel, understands. She has a 4 year old little boy, and just had a baby girl in July. So, our circumstances are very similar. But, as we were texting, we decided the reason behind our lack of writing wasn't desire, but motivation. We decided in order to have motivation, we needed someone to hold us accountable. Jewel is amazing, and very creative, so she suggested we do a prompt every day to help us get the creative juices flowing. Our writings don't have to be long or in any genre. They just need to be written. So, for the last 3 days, we've been writing and emailing our work back and forth. As such, I have a couple new essays I'd like to share. So, if you're bored and need something to do...head on over to the link that takes you to Kaylee's Writing Life. I am posting the essays. I'd love to have people weigh in and tell me what you think. Or just read and hopefully it will brighten your day. Thanks! Love you all!
Thursday, April 30, 2015
Dang Good Wives
I was at dinner tonight with some amazing ladies, all whom I look up to and cherish as friends. As our conversation went, we talked about life, school, kids, jobs, etc, etc. By the end of the night, a few of us were chatting about our husbands, how different they are, yet how much we love them and feel blessed to have found our special someone. It was such a sweet conversation...and as most of you know, well, Ted is perfect. He is! I mean, I don't expect him to be perfect, but he is. PERFECT FOR ME. And that's what makes him perfect.
Now, I'm not saying he can do no wrong, and that there are times when we really don't see eye to eye, but that's the beauty of it. He has opened a whole new world to me, one I couldn't have seen without his eyes. And I had to be willing to open my eyes. He's shown me that the road home doesn't always have to be the same. We can turn down a different street, and who knows, it might just turn out to be even better, or more beautiful.
Wow...really just went off on a tangent...back to my dang good wife thing...
Well, as we were talking, I said, "I'm a dang good wife". And I am!
It's funny, because I saw the women who heard me tense their muscles...like, "Oh, no, she's crazy." Or, "Umm...who says that?" Or, "What?"
One of my friends spoke up and agreed with me. She said, "You're right. You are a good wife. You cook, you clean.." And she listed a few things, which I do, but as I was nodding along with her, she said she's not the best wife, because she doesn't cook, because she doesn't feel like she's a good cook, and at that moment, I felt something shift inside me. Because I saw myself in her. I remember when I didn't cook, and felt like I was falling short, because I wasn't fulfilling my "expected" list of wifely duties that we all have for ourselves. They are probably all different, depending on background, culture, and family circumstance, but we have them!
And that got me thinking...not always a good thing...but I had to sit down and really ask myself, "Do those things that my friend listed make me a good wife? What makes other women think they aren't good wives? And why do I think I'm a good wife now? What changed?"
My answer to the first question was: Yes and No. Just because I cook, clean, do laundry, does not make me a good wife. It helps, and makes life run smoother for our family, and since my love language is acts of service, it really works for me, but it isn't the list of things that make me a good wife. I mean, any person can do those things. It's just a list. But, what really makes the difference?
Love. Love is what makes the difference. Doing those things out of love. Not because I have to, but because I want to.
I see myself as a dang good wife because, I love my husband, and I treat him, our family, our house, and all we have accordingly. I love him! I love him so much! And because I love him, I see him as perfect. I don't criticize the things he doesn't do, that I wish he would. I praise the things he does do. And a beautiful thing happens: he becomes a better person, and wants to step up and be the best husband and father he can be. That's how it works. The formula is super simple. The answer is clear. Just love each other unconditionally. With Christ like love.
And the thing that stunned me is: my friends are amazing wives and they just don't see it! I see that they love their husbands. They cherish them. I mean, we were just talking about how blessed we were with them in our lives! These women do so many things for their families. Kind, loving things. And that's what makes them: Dang Good Wives.
I wished I could explain these things in the moment, but my brain takes time to process. But I'm saying it now! I think we just need to give ourselves permission to accept the fact that we're good. We're doing well. Most people are doing the best they can with what they know or have been dealt in life.
Then another big epiphany happened...I realized that, as I put Christ and Heavenly Father first in my life, and live my life to make them happy, being happy is much easier. I'm able to feel love at a deeper level. See people around me with different eyes. Eyes that are softened by Christ's love. Instead of seeing flaws, I see the beautiful. And that's how God intended it to be.
If we all just took time to see the beautiful, life would be much more beautiful.
I challenge you to see the beautiful. Not only in yourself and your spouse, but your kids, your parents, your siblings, your friends, your neighbors, your teachers, your family, your co-workers, any and every one you associate with. And instead of holding back compliments, let the compliments flow. Tell someone they look nice today. Compliment them on a nice deed. Share love and it will light up your life.
Next time you're sitting down and thinking about all the things you haven't gotten done, just think of all the things you have done. And each of you have done something, because if you're alive, you've taken a breath, and that required effort. You did it! Pat yourself on the back. Love yourself!
Know that being a good person comes from how you treat yourself, others, and what you share with the world around you.
Look in the mirror and love your reflection. Open that mouth of yours and tell someone you love them. Pray to Heavenly Father and thank Him for everything, since He has given it all to you.
Remember to see the good in the world, and that's what you'll become. Find joy in the little things, for life is made up of little things that culminate into our life story (which is a big thing).
Now, I'm not saying I'm perfect at these things. In fact, this is probably more for me than you...but I promise to work on the things I have written and I hope you do too. It will make our world a better place, and who doesn't want that? :)
Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: This is primarily for those who are married. If you're not, I still hope you'll take the simple principles and apply them to your life.
Now, I'm not saying he can do no wrong, and that there are times when we really don't see eye to eye, but that's the beauty of it. He has opened a whole new world to me, one I couldn't have seen without his eyes. And I had to be willing to open my eyes. He's shown me that the road home doesn't always have to be the same. We can turn down a different street, and who knows, it might just turn out to be even better, or more beautiful.
Wow...really just went off on a tangent...back to my dang good wife thing...
Well, as we were talking, I said, "I'm a dang good wife". And I am!
It's funny, because I saw the women who heard me tense their muscles...like, "Oh, no, she's crazy." Or, "Umm...who says that?" Or, "What?"
One of my friends spoke up and agreed with me. She said, "You're right. You are a good wife. You cook, you clean.." And she listed a few things, which I do, but as I was nodding along with her, she said she's not the best wife, because she doesn't cook, because she doesn't feel like she's a good cook, and at that moment, I felt something shift inside me. Because I saw myself in her. I remember when I didn't cook, and felt like I was falling short, because I wasn't fulfilling my "expected" list of wifely duties that we all have for ourselves. They are probably all different, depending on background, culture, and family circumstance, but we have them!
And that got me thinking...not always a good thing...but I had to sit down and really ask myself, "Do those things that my friend listed make me a good wife? What makes other women think they aren't good wives? And why do I think I'm a good wife now? What changed?"
My answer to the first question was: Yes and No. Just because I cook, clean, do laundry, does not make me a good wife. It helps, and makes life run smoother for our family, and since my love language is acts of service, it really works for me, but it isn't the list of things that make me a good wife. I mean, any person can do those things. It's just a list. But, what really makes the difference?
Love. Love is what makes the difference. Doing those things out of love. Not because I have to, but because I want to.
I see myself as a dang good wife because, I love my husband, and I treat him, our family, our house, and all we have accordingly. I love him! I love him so much! And because I love him, I see him as perfect. I don't criticize the things he doesn't do, that I wish he would. I praise the things he does do. And a beautiful thing happens: he becomes a better person, and wants to step up and be the best husband and father he can be. That's how it works. The formula is super simple. The answer is clear. Just love each other unconditionally. With Christ like love.
And the thing that stunned me is: my friends are amazing wives and they just don't see it! I see that they love their husbands. They cherish them. I mean, we were just talking about how blessed we were with them in our lives! These women do so many things for their families. Kind, loving things. And that's what makes them: Dang Good Wives.
I wished I could explain these things in the moment, but my brain takes time to process. But I'm saying it now! I think we just need to give ourselves permission to accept the fact that we're good. We're doing well. Most people are doing the best they can with what they know or have been dealt in life.
Then another big epiphany happened...I realized that, as I put Christ and Heavenly Father first in my life, and live my life to make them happy, being happy is much easier. I'm able to feel love at a deeper level. See people around me with different eyes. Eyes that are softened by Christ's love. Instead of seeing flaws, I see the beautiful. And that's how God intended it to be.
If we all just took time to see the beautiful, life would be much more beautiful.
I challenge you to see the beautiful. Not only in yourself and your spouse, but your kids, your parents, your siblings, your friends, your neighbors, your teachers, your family, your co-workers, any and every one you associate with. And instead of holding back compliments, let the compliments flow. Tell someone they look nice today. Compliment them on a nice deed. Share love and it will light up your life.
Next time you're sitting down and thinking about all the things you haven't gotten done, just think of all the things you have done. And each of you have done something, because if you're alive, you've taken a breath, and that required effort. You did it! Pat yourself on the back. Love yourself!
Know that being a good person comes from how you treat yourself, others, and what you share with the world around you.
Look in the mirror and love your reflection. Open that mouth of yours and tell someone you love them. Pray to Heavenly Father and thank Him for everything, since He has given it all to you.
Remember to see the good in the world, and that's what you'll become. Find joy in the little things, for life is made up of little things that culminate into our life story (which is a big thing).
Now, I'm not saying I'm perfect at these things. In fact, this is probably more for me than you...but I promise to work on the things I have written and I hope you do too. It will make our world a better place, and who doesn't want that? :)
Thanks for reading!
Disclaimer: This is primarily for those who are married. If you're not, I still hope you'll take the simple principles and apply them to your life.
Sunday, March 8, 2015
Sunday Night Misery
Here I am in bed...thinking about my day. It's been a good day. One that I look forward to every week. You see, on Sundays I get to attend church. And church is one of my favorite places to be. You see, I'm surrounded by people who, like me, are imperfect in their own ways, yet we seek perfection and redemption through Christ. It's a common place where we seek to edify our lives and make a firmer commitment to be like our Savior. It's also a place of worship and thanksgiving. A place to lay down our fears, sins, pains, sorrows, and loneliness. A place to find peace, acceptance, and happiness. Now you know why I love Sundays and attending church.
I have many friends that attend the same church as me, and several that don't. I love the diversity in my friends, and find that each one of them have gifts and talents unique to them. They bless my life in several untold ways. They fill my life with joy and comradery. I pray that I can be as much of a blessing in their lives as they are in mine.
The friends who attend the same church meetings as me can attest to what I'm about to say. I have a tendency to speak before I think things through. My mouth is spurting out words and my mind is rusing to catch up. In other words, my mouth is as fast as the rabbit, and my mind as slow as the turtle. Eventually my mind catches up and redeems itself, but it's usually hours after the fact or even days.
It's like I tell people, I'm not funny. I like funny people, and I love to laugh, but I'm not the one to crack the joke. That's why I married Ted. He's my humor in every way. He'll crack a joke and I immediately laugh because I know it's funny, but it usually takes me a good 10 seconds or more to catch up. That's when the real laughter sets in. It's cute because then he thinks he's extra funny. And he is. :)
But back to my rabbit mouth and turtle brain...so as I'm laying in bed thinking, all my comments from the day come back to me. It's my one day that I'm surrounded by people, so every comment I make is heard. In Sunday school, I go to the most basic class. I feel like simplicity is my level of learning. If it's too complicated, it goes right over my head. So, we're encouraged to share experiences or any impression we have. And I am always impressed (We have amazing lessons). So my hand is raised, I'm called on, and my mouth is going before I even know what's going on. It happens every Sunday. When I get home, I'm too busy being mom again to worry about my comments. But when I lay down for bed and have a few minutes of silence, my mind replays my words. It's kinda like a horror movie in slow motion, and I'm the star. I slaughter my words, I say things that don't make sense, and worst of all, I cry...a lot. Mostly from other people's amazing insight. But at night, tears fill my eyes from the embarrassing show I've given. That's the exact reason I stick to my written talk when I have to speak during sacrament meeting. Because when I write things, it makes my words slow down to a speed that my brain can keep up with. And I can reread. And edit. Gotta love the delete key. I use it often.
So tonight, I'm laying in bed, reviewing my words and I cringe. But then, I get a text from an amazing and incredibly inspired friend. She's apologizing about her comments in class today. I'm shocked! They were so good that I cried (literally). They were so well placed and spoken that some of them were even in the lesson (without her knowing). That's how awesome and inspired she is. And that got my old turtle brain grinding it's gears. If she thinks her comments are bad, does that mean that maybe mine aren't so bad? And if that's the case, the how many other people feel the same way as us? How many people hold back their thoughts? Thoughts that need to be shared. I love to listen to other people share their lives and experiences. I love listening better than talking, because I learn so much more. When I talk, I only hear what I already know. But when I listen, I learn something new. I love it!!! So, my whole point to my endless rambling is, please, if you are one of those who don't share, please start. If you think nobody listens or wants to hear what you have to say, you're probably wrong. Because I always want to know what people have to say. I want to know what inspires them. Because that inspires me. And, if you do share and worry about what you've said (I put myself in this category), then don't wait another minute worrying. Someone needed to hear what you had to say. So, speak up. Share your story. Your experiences. Your life. It will open a whole new world of friendships and comradery.
I have many friends that attend the same church as me, and several that don't. I love the diversity in my friends, and find that each one of them have gifts and talents unique to them. They bless my life in several untold ways. They fill my life with joy and comradery. I pray that I can be as much of a blessing in their lives as they are in mine.
The friends who attend the same church meetings as me can attest to what I'm about to say. I have a tendency to speak before I think things through. My mouth is spurting out words and my mind is rusing to catch up. In other words, my mouth is as fast as the rabbit, and my mind as slow as the turtle. Eventually my mind catches up and redeems itself, but it's usually hours after the fact or even days.
It's like I tell people, I'm not funny. I like funny people, and I love to laugh, but I'm not the one to crack the joke. That's why I married Ted. He's my humor in every way. He'll crack a joke and I immediately laugh because I know it's funny, but it usually takes me a good 10 seconds or more to catch up. That's when the real laughter sets in. It's cute because then he thinks he's extra funny. And he is. :)
But back to my rabbit mouth and turtle brain...so as I'm laying in bed thinking, all my comments from the day come back to me. It's my one day that I'm surrounded by people, so every comment I make is heard. In Sunday school, I go to the most basic class. I feel like simplicity is my level of learning. If it's too complicated, it goes right over my head. So, we're encouraged to share experiences or any impression we have. And I am always impressed (We have amazing lessons). So my hand is raised, I'm called on, and my mouth is going before I even know what's going on. It happens every Sunday. When I get home, I'm too busy being mom again to worry about my comments. But when I lay down for bed and have a few minutes of silence, my mind replays my words. It's kinda like a horror movie in slow motion, and I'm the star. I slaughter my words, I say things that don't make sense, and worst of all, I cry...a lot. Mostly from other people's amazing insight. But at night, tears fill my eyes from the embarrassing show I've given. That's the exact reason I stick to my written talk when I have to speak during sacrament meeting. Because when I write things, it makes my words slow down to a speed that my brain can keep up with. And I can reread. And edit. Gotta love the delete key. I use it often.
So tonight, I'm laying in bed, reviewing my words and I cringe. But then, I get a text from an amazing and incredibly inspired friend. She's apologizing about her comments in class today. I'm shocked! They were so good that I cried (literally). They were so well placed and spoken that some of them were even in the lesson (without her knowing). That's how awesome and inspired she is. And that got my old turtle brain grinding it's gears. If she thinks her comments are bad, does that mean that maybe mine aren't so bad? And if that's the case, the how many other people feel the same way as us? How many people hold back their thoughts? Thoughts that need to be shared. I love to listen to other people share their lives and experiences. I love listening better than talking, because I learn so much more. When I talk, I only hear what I already know. But when I listen, I learn something new. I love it!!! So, my whole point to my endless rambling is, please, if you are one of those who don't share, please start. If you think nobody listens or wants to hear what you have to say, you're probably wrong. Because I always want to know what people have to say. I want to know what inspires them. Because that inspires me. And, if you do share and worry about what you've said (I put myself in this category), then don't wait another minute worrying. Someone needed to hear what you had to say. So, speak up. Share your story. Your experiences. Your life. It will open a whole new world of friendships and comradery.
Saturday, September 6, 2014
Rise Up
I'm a simple human being. Normal. No spectacular talents. No memorable features. Nothing that stands out and demands attention. And that's good. Because I like to blend in. I'm not perfect. I have flaws. Many. And even though I try to rectify them, I still fall short from time to time.
I was told the other day that my home is perfect. That everything is neat, organized. Perfect. It's true, I like to have organization. It's one reason we bought our home. It has great storage and details that enhance organization. But our floors are not always clean. Sometimes we walk around with our shoes on. Things spill on the living room carpet and make stains.
Blankets will fall haphazardly on beds. Pillows will be pushed to one side. They may go unmade for days, only to be tucked neatly in for the next week.
Toys are scattered here and there. Books are tipped to their sides. Pictures crooked in their frames.
The dishes get done every night. And there's a routine. Sort of. We like to break our routines occasionally. We don't want life to get too dull.
My husband loves analogies. He does an amazing job at teaching, talking, making people laugh and feel at home around him. It's one of his many talents. He amazes and surprises me every day, and we've been married for eight years. It's no small feat to surprise me, because I'm a details person. I notice things. Too many things sometimes. But back to analogies. I've made a few in my lifetime...but a couple really make sense to me. You can tell me if you agree or disagree, but I feel like the car we drive represents what's going on within ourselves and how we like to appear to others. The make, model, year...all that doesn't matter. But the condition does.
For example: The outside of my car is not always clean. It gets dirty from the road grime and sometimes I like to take long drives down dirt roads that lead to nowhere in particular, just to feel the energy of the earth and admire it's constant state of beauty. So, just as my car, I don't really care about what I wear all the time. Sometimes I get dressed up. Date nights. Girls nights. Whenever I feel like I need to make a good impression. But I'm not afraid to go out in sweats. I love jeans and pullovers. I like makeup, but not too much. Less is more. Flip flops or cowboy boots. Heels...rarely. Flats are good too, but usually too fancy. And with those boots, there's scuffs and tears, because I like wear.
But the inside of my car is clean. It was immaculate before I had my little guy. No garbage. No stray papers. No left over items, like receipts, sunglasses, or water bottles. The trunk was organized. I had the necessities (still do). I vacuumed it regularly. I washed the windows and had it detailed. If there were items that needed to be there on a more permanent basis, they were organized. I try to keep this up, and usually fall short. Because I mean, come on, I have to have the diaper bag left in there all Hesston's toys find hiding places that even I can't imagine. This is like the inside of me. I'm always trying to clean out my brain. Organize thoughts. Put them into file folders. File them away for another time. Keep focused on the big picture. Keep things simple. Stay away from drama that clutters and confuses. Try to be positive. Optimistic. Fear, contention, anger all make the mind a whirlwind of confusion. I cast them out. Don't let them stay. My life is full. But I still have lots of time. Time to serve and help those in need.
I remember someone saying that if you want something done, assign it to the busiest person you know. They know how to make time. And it will get done.
I don't understand when people say that when they "find" time, they will get something done. Time isn't something we find. It's something we make, create. You always have time for what's important to you. You make time. You don't find it.
I like to make time for my family. Sometimes I fall way short. I get my nose stuck in a good book, get lost for a day or two in a world that enchants me. Pulls me in and won't let me go. I'm stuck in a washing machine. Getting my mind tossed and turned and wrung inside out. Sometimes I like to be too social. I have a hard time saying no. I overschedule myself, because I feel like I can do it all. Usually I can fit everything in, but sometimes I fall short. And I hate falling short.
I've been raised to perfection. Taught to be perfect. From the time I was able to walk, I've been combed through, braided into something that knew all the right things to say, do, and feel. Programmed. Critiqued. Judged. Found worthy. Or not. I've failed. Many times. As I said before, I'm not perfect. But I was taught how to be perfect.
Sometimes I see myself expecting perfection in myself. It's those days that last forever with unhappy thoughts. I don't compare myself to others. I used to. But I find that useless. We all have different strengths. Weaknesses. Mine are written all over my face. I have the hardest time remembering names. Facts that actually matter. I commit as much as I can to memory. But my memory card is only two gigs.
I like to be surprised. I am in a constant state of learning. From those around me. Fellow moms. Friends. Children. Especially children. There's something so simple about children. Pure. I think I've learned more about myself and those around me in the last two years than I learned my whole twenty seven years before. Children have a way of opening the eyes. Valleys form. Mountains open up. Tunnels carve their way through your heart. The mind is blown on a daily basis.
Sometimes I wonder how God does it. How does He send His precious spirit children that He created to us? We're imperfect. We make mistakes. We judge. Criticize. Expect perfection. We're prideful. Hateful. Mean. Outright stupid. Yet, somewhere, deep inside, there's something pure. Touched, no, created. Carved out of matter so precious, by the Hand of God.
Yet here, on this earth, we forget all that. We forget that the beautiful baby in our arms that keeps us up all hours of the night is the most precious gift. A gift directly from God. We forget that life is precious. We forget that as we grow, we become more marred by life and the direct hits of the blatant adversary. We forget who we are. Why we're here. What the meaning of this life is all about. We become caught up in a life that's temporary. We try to hold onto things that mean nothing. Possessions that only serve the natural man. Things that please for moments, but not eternally. We forget about our ancestors. The ones who made our lives possible. We forget about God and how He created this earth and everything on it. Everything. Including our homes. Our cars. Our smart phones. Sure, maybe someone's hands put it together, or some machine assembled it. But, where did it come from? The earth. Matter. Chemicals put together in a very distinct way to create.
Maybe that's why we humans enjoy creating things. Because it's what we're made to do. Create. To bring to life. To make things pleasing. Why do we mow our lawns? Wash our cars? Cut our hair? Brush our teeth? Put clothes on everyday?
I'm a very simple human being. I believe in God, our Eternal and Loving Heavenly Father. I believe in Christ, our Savior and Brother. I believe that They love and care about us. I know They do. I've seen Their hands in my life many times.
The neighbor who shares a screwdriver with me so we can fix a bike. The lady who brings me dinner after I've been sick or had a baby. I've seen it in the smile that my friend shares. In the kiss my husband shares with me as he walks through the door. In the hands that have lifted me up when I couldn't stand on my own. In the light that shines through my son's eyes. The conversation the stranger in the store has with me while we're waiting in line. The people who rush to help someone in need. I see it. Everywhere.
One of the hardest things I've had to endure is when my father passed away. It was like the solid rock I'd built my life on had been shattered. Crumbled. Changed in a way that my mind couldn't process. Shock is a strange and very real thing. Grief is as potent as a knife to the chest. One that's dull and tears the flesh, wringing it, until there's nothing left.
I'm surprised I didn't die from a broken heart. If I didn't have Ted, I probably would have. We were young. Only married a year. Barely knew each other. We didn't have the strongest foundation. It took a year for me to wrap my head around the fact that life had moved on. That it hadn't truly left me behind. The seasons changed. I didn't notice. Not until one day I woke up and didn't recognize the face in the mirror. I'd lost all sense of who I was. Lost a part of me so deep that I didn't feel like I could move on. I wanted to curl up and succumb. Life wasn't worth living. So I wrote. I wrote and wrote and wrote. Until there was nothing left to write. And the crazy thing is, I wrote about a character that was me. Broken. Bruised. Beaten on the inside. And I wrote about Ted. Sweet Ted. My hero. In every story. I can't help but put Ted into every sense of the hero. Because he is my hero.
He smiled. He held me. Picked up the pieces and put them back together when I was ready. I know there were days when he just wanted to fix me. Hit me on the head with a fix it hammer. I felt broken, but I wasn't really. Just needed time. And love. And reassurance. And friendship. And help. Help to find a way back into life.
He took my hand and slowly guided me back to life. I couldn't have done it without him. He saved me. He's still saving me. Because each day I wake up, I know he's by my side. He makes me want to do my best. To be a better person. To love him more each day. To appreciate the small things he does. To pick him up when he's down. Because it's the least that I can do for him. After all he's done for me. And I see God lifting him to new heights. And I want to be there too. Next to him.
So I try a little harder. Be a little better. Recognize God's hands in every day details that used to go unnoticed. I take time to listen to that small whisper. Intuition. Whatever you want to call it. Instead of getting in a big rush, I relax. Take my time. Listen to the promptings. And I've seen His hand guiding me. Lifting me. Using me to help others in ways I never knew I could.
I keep thinking that nothing is an accident. I know it's easy for me to say, because life is so good for me right now. It is. Truly. I'm overwhelmed with how many blessings I have. I can't say I've always felt that way. When bad things happen. Especially suddenly, it's hard to see through the pain. Hurt. Torment. But, when all that becomes unbearable, there's a silent strength that carries us. Some people think it's just going through the motions. Survival mode. Numbness. But I like to think that it's God's way of helping us deal with the pain we can't survive through on our own.
When people say that God only gives us what we can handle or live through, I laugh. It's not true. God gives us more than what we can handle. He's giving us opportunities to prove ourselves. Will we trust Him or curse Him? Will we rely on Him or give up on Him? We're here to be tested. Proved. We need to learn. Learning hurts. It stretches us. Make us who we are. The trials really do make us stronger. The mistakes we've made make us relatable and increase our capacity for empathy. They mold us into something more.
I'm not saying we should all go out and do things we know aren't good for us. Shoot, err on the good side. But we all make mistakes. We all fall short. He who is without sin, cast the first stone. Nobody can. We're not perfect. Thank heavens. If we were, why would we be here? We wouldn't. There'd be no purpose. I love how our imperfections and trials either move us closer or further away from God and Christ. They make us make a choice. What will we decide? What will we do?
Our thoughts shape our actions. Our actions become our habits. Our habits become our destiny. What's your destiny? What's my destiny? I don't know. But I want to know. I want to know that if I do all I can in this life to prepare to meet God someday, that I will. That I will stand face to face with him, like Moses, and know that I am worthy of that momentous occasion.
I know I will fall short. I know I will look away. I know I'm not nearly perfect enough to be in the presence of such a divine being. But I will do everything in my power to be ready and worthy for it. Because I know that it will happen. Someday. Maybe not now. Maybe not in this life. Maybe not until I've been dead for thousands of years, and the earth has changed into something completely different. But, I want to be ready for that judgment day. The day when God and Christ decide it's time to bring all their children home to be judged according to their hearts, wants, desires, thoughts, and actions.
I love the scripture about faith. Faith without works is dead. I try everyday to live my life like I should. As I said before, I know I fall short. Several times. I could always be more patient. Loving. Kind. Thoughtful. Helpful. Doing more to better those around me. I hope that as I continue down this path of life that I can somehow, somewhere, do a little better. Stretch a little more.
Moving to North Dakota has been a big change. A good change. One that I'd never want to take back. Not in a million years. It's taught me that some of the best things in life come at the hardest price. Humility. Submission. And diversity.
I've had a huge mind shift since moving here. People, in general, are nice. They are trying their best. They want to be good citizens. They know God and try to emulate His example in their words and deeds.
It's just that Satan only wants us to see the bad things in the world. He only wants us to dwell on the bad things. Haven't you ever noticed how something bad stays with you? It lingers. It doesn't go away unless you command it to go away. Make it go away. Put a very strong effort into it.
But the good things go right in the mind and right out the ear. Comes and goes so fast. We don't appreciate them. Not really. We take them for granted.
But it's the good things that we really need to hang onto. To cling to. To cherish. Those are the things that matter most. Once we start seeing the positive and not the negative, life becomes much easier. Accept the compliment. Accept the invitation. Share your talents. Your voice. Your opinion. Be nice. Be thoughtful. Help others. Say thank you. Follow Christ's example. After all, He is the perfect example. He even left us with a nice Bible, filled with stories and miracles in his life. He also left us with a second witness of Him, the Book of Mormon. What a huge blessing!
I've seen miracles. Experienced them in my own life. After paying tithing, all the bills get paid, even if the money isn't there, it'll appear. There have been many times when I've balanced my checkbook or checked my mint account, only to find that the numbers don't add up. That there's more money than there should be. It's also happened the opposite way...but that was my own error.
Or there's been times when I fed those in need, thinking I had only a small amount of food left, then went back and found my shelves full. They've never been bare. Never. And I use my food. I cook. And we eat. We share. And there's always more there. It's a miracle. One that I will always cherish.
When I donate my time to help those in need, more time is provided to do the things I need to get done.
You see, God is everywhere. He sees all things. He's omnipotent. He can do more than we'll ever be able to comprehend in this life.
I just can't wait to meet Him again someday. Just as I'm excited to see my earthly father again, to talk with him, reminisce with him, I have a feeling we'll all do the same with our Heavenly Father.
A parent's love is indescribable. At least it should be. I know all circumstances are different, but in my life, I've been blessed with amazing parents who emulate God's love for us.
I wish I could put into words how much love I have for my son. But I can't. It's just a feeling. Something rooted so deep that there's nothing in the world that could uproot it. I often say that my heart is walking around on the outside of my body. It is.
I've given pieces of my heart to my family. Friends. And most of all, God and Jesus Christ. I just hope that I can live up to my potential. Live up to what I'm expected to do here on this earth. I want to share my love with the world. Love is such a powerful and tangible thing. The love we share between each other is what makes the world a better place. As I look at people, I don't see strangers. I see fellow brothers, sisters, moms, dads, husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, grandpas and grandmas, aunts and uncles.
Every single person around us is loved. Not only by someone here on this earth, but by someone in heaven. Lets remember that and treat each other a little better. It's okay to smile. To slow down. To not cut that person off in traffic. The hold the door open. To let someone pass you. To take the higher road and say I'm sorry. I'm wrong. I love you. You're special. You mean the world to me. You're my sunshine.
This is for you, Andy. For you, Grandpa and Grandma Hales. For you, Grandpa Hancock. For you, Uncle Bill and Brent. For you, Gracie LeMae. For you, everyone else that I've known or will come to know. And especially for you, Dad. I love you. I miss you. And I'm doing my best to do what I'm supposed to do here on this side. Please help me. In any way you can. As you know, I fall short. Help me to rise up. Through God's grace, all things are possible.
I was told the other day that my home is perfect. That everything is neat, organized. Perfect. It's true, I like to have organization. It's one reason we bought our home. It has great storage and details that enhance organization. But our floors are not always clean. Sometimes we walk around with our shoes on. Things spill on the living room carpet and make stains.
Blankets will fall haphazardly on beds. Pillows will be pushed to one side. They may go unmade for days, only to be tucked neatly in for the next week.
Toys are scattered here and there. Books are tipped to their sides. Pictures crooked in their frames.
The dishes get done every night. And there's a routine. Sort of. We like to break our routines occasionally. We don't want life to get too dull.
My husband loves analogies. He does an amazing job at teaching, talking, making people laugh and feel at home around him. It's one of his many talents. He amazes and surprises me every day, and we've been married for eight years. It's no small feat to surprise me, because I'm a details person. I notice things. Too many things sometimes. But back to analogies. I've made a few in my lifetime...but a couple really make sense to me. You can tell me if you agree or disagree, but I feel like the car we drive represents what's going on within ourselves and how we like to appear to others. The make, model, year...all that doesn't matter. But the condition does.
For example: The outside of my car is not always clean. It gets dirty from the road grime and sometimes I like to take long drives down dirt roads that lead to nowhere in particular, just to feel the energy of the earth and admire it's constant state of beauty. So, just as my car, I don't really care about what I wear all the time. Sometimes I get dressed up. Date nights. Girls nights. Whenever I feel like I need to make a good impression. But I'm not afraid to go out in sweats. I love jeans and pullovers. I like makeup, but not too much. Less is more. Flip flops or cowboy boots. Heels...rarely. Flats are good too, but usually too fancy. And with those boots, there's scuffs and tears, because I like wear.
But the inside of my car is clean. It was immaculate before I had my little guy. No garbage. No stray papers. No left over items, like receipts, sunglasses, or water bottles. The trunk was organized. I had the necessities (still do). I vacuumed it regularly. I washed the windows and had it detailed. If there were items that needed to be there on a more permanent basis, they were organized. I try to keep this up, and usually fall short. Because I mean, come on, I have to have the diaper bag left in there all Hesston's toys find hiding places that even I can't imagine. This is like the inside of me. I'm always trying to clean out my brain. Organize thoughts. Put them into file folders. File them away for another time. Keep focused on the big picture. Keep things simple. Stay away from drama that clutters and confuses. Try to be positive. Optimistic. Fear, contention, anger all make the mind a whirlwind of confusion. I cast them out. Don't let them stay. My life is full. But I still have lots of time. Time to serve and help those in need.
I remember someone saying that if you want something done, assign it to the busiest person you know. They know how to make time. And it will get done.
I don't understand when people say that when they "find" time, they will get something done. Time isn't something we find. It's something we make, create. You always have time for what's important to you. You make time. You don't find it.
I like to make time for my family. Sometimes I fall way short. I get my nose stuck in a good book, get lost for a day or two in a world that enchants me. Pulls me in and won't let me go. I'm stuck in a washing machine. Getting my mind tossed and turned and wrung inside out. Sometimes I like to be too social. I have a hard time saying no. I overschedule myself, because I feel like I can do it all. Usually I can fit everything in, but sometimes I fall short. And I hate falling short.
I've been raised to perfection. Taught to be perfect. From the time I was able to walk, I've been combed through, braided into something that knew all the right things to say, do, and feel. Programmed. Critiqued. Judged. Found worthy. Or not. I've failed. Many times. As I said before, I'm not perfect. But I was taught how to be perfect.
Sometimes I see myself expecting perfection in myself. It's those days that last forever with unhappy thoughts. I don't compare myself to others. I used to. But I find that useless. We all have different strengths. Weaknesses. Mine are written all over my face. I have the hardest time remembering names. Facts that actually matter. I commit as much as I can to memory. But my memory card is only two gigs.
I like to be surprised. I am in a constant state of learning. From those around me. Fellow moms. Friends. Children. Especially children. There's something so simple about children. Pure. I think I've learned more about myself and those around me in the last two years than I learned my whole twenty seven years before. Children have a way of opening the eyes. Valleys form. Mountains open up. Tunnels carve their way through your heart. The mind is blown on a daily basis.
Sometimes I wonder how God does it. How does He send His precious spirit children that He created to us? We're imperfect. We make mistakes. We judge. Criticize. Expect perfection. We're prideful. Hateful. Mean. Outright stupid. Yet, somewhere, deep inside, there's something pure. Touched, no, created. Carved out of matter so precious, by the Hand of God.
Yet here, on this earth, we forget all that. We forget that the beautiful baby in our arms that keeps us up all hours of the night is the most precious gift. A gift directly from God. We forget that life is precious. We forget that as we grow, we become more marred by life and the direct hits of the blatant adversary. We forget who we are. Why we're here. What the meaning of this life is all about. We become caught up in a life that's temporary. We try to hold onto things that mean nothing. Possessions that only serve the natural man. Things that please for moments, but not eternally. We forget about our ancestors. The ones who made our lives possible. We forget about God and how He created this earth and everything on it. Everything. Including our homes. Our cars. Our smart phones. Sure, maybe someone's hands put it together, or some machine assembled it. But, where did it come from? The earth. Matter. Chemicals put together in a very distinct way to create.
Maybe that's why we humans enjoy creating things. Because it's what we're made to do. Create. To bring to life. To make things pleasing. Why do we mow our lawns? Wash our cars? Cut our hair? Brush our teeth? Put clothes on everyday?
I'm a very simple human being. I believe in God, our Eternal and Loving Heavenly Father. I believe in Christ, our Savior and Brother. I believe that They love and care about us. I know They do. I've seen Their hands in my life many times.
The neighbor who shares a screwdriver with me so we can fix a bike. The lady who brings me dinner after I've been sick or had a baby. I've seen it in the smile that my friend shares. In the kiss my husband shares with me as he walks through the door. In the hands that have lifted me up when I couldn't stand on my own. In the light that shines through my son's eyes. The conversation the stranger in the store has with me while we're waiting in line. The people who rush to help someone in need. I see it. Everywhere.
One of the hardest things I've had to endure is when my father passed away. It was like the solid rock I'd built my life on had been shattered. Crumbled. Changed in a way that my mind couldn't process. Shock is a strange and very real thing. Grief is as potent as a knife to the chest. One that's dull and tears the flesh, wringing it, until there's nothing left.
I'm surprised I didn't die from a broken heart. If I didn't have Ted, I probably would have. We were young. Only married a year. Barely knew each other. We didn't have the strongest foundation. It took a year for me to wrap my head around the fact that life had moved on. That it hadn't truly left me behind. The seasons changed. I didn't notice. Not until one day I woke up and didn't recognize the face in the mirror. I'd lost all sense of who I was. Lost a part of me so deep that I didn't feel like I could move on. I wanted to curl up and succumb. Life wasn't worth living. So I wrote. I wrote and wrote and wrote. Until there was nothing left to write. And the crazy thing is, I wrote about a character that was me. Broken. Bruised. Beaten on the inside. And I wrote about Ted. Sweet Ted. My hero. In every story. I can't help but put Ted into every sense of the hero. Because he is my hero.
He smiled. He held me. Picked up the pieces and put them back together when I was ready. I know there were days when he just wanted to fix me. Hit me on the head with a fix it hammer. I felt broken, but I wasn't really. Just needed time. And love. And reassurance. And friendship. And help. Help to find a way back into life.
He took my hand and slowly guided me back to life. I couldn't have done it without him. He saved me. He's still saving me. Because each day I wake up, I know he's by my side. He makes me want to do my best. To be a better person. To love him more each day. To appreciate the small things he does. To pick him up when he's down. Because it's the least that I can do for him. After all he's done for me. And I see God lifting him to new heights. And I want to be there too. Next to him.
So I try a little harder. Be a little better. Recognize God's hands in every day details that used to go unnoticed. I take time to listen to that small whisper. Intuition. Whatever you want to call it. Instead of getting in a big rush, I relax. Take my time. Listen to the promptings. And I've seen His hand guiding me. Lifting me. Using me to help others in ways I never knew I could.
I keep thinking that nothing is an accident. I know it's easy for me to say, because life is so good for me right now. It is. Truly. I'm overwhelmed with how many blessings I have. I can't say I've always felt that way. When bad things happen. Especially suddenly, it's hard to see through the pain. Hurt. Torment. But, when all that becomes unbearable, there's a silent strength that carries us. Some people think it's just going through the motions. Survival mode. Numbness. But I like to think that it's God's way of helping us deal with the pain we can't survive through on our own.
When people say that God only gives us what we can handle or live through, I laugh. It's not true. God gives us more than what we can handle. He's giving us opportunities to prove ourselves. Will we trust Him or curse Him? Will we rely on Him or give up on Him? We're here to be tested. Proved. We need to learn. Learning hurts. It stretches us. Make us who we are. The trials really do make us stronger. The mistakes we've made make us relatable and increase our capacity for empathy. They mold us into something more.
I'm not saying we should all go out and do things we know aren't good for us. Shoot, err on the good side. But we all make mistakes. We all fall short. He who is without sin, cast the first stone. Nobody can. We're not perfect. Thank heavens. If we were, why would we be here? We wouldn't. There'd be no purpose. I love how our imperfections and trials either move us closer or further away from God and Christ. They make us make a choice. What will we decide? What will we do?
Our thoughts shape our actions. Our actions become our habits. Our habits become our destiny. What's your destiny? What's my destiny? I don't know. But I want to know. I want to know that if I do all I can in this life to prepare to meet God someday, that I will. That I will stand face to face with him, like Moses, and know that I am worthy of that momentous occasion.
I know I will fall short. I know I will look away. I know I'm not nearly perfect enough to be in the presence of such a divine being. But I will do everything in my power to be ready and worthy for it. Because I know that it will happen. Someday. Maybe not now. Maybe not in this life. Maybe not until I've been dead for thousands of years, and the earth has changed into something completely different. But, I want to be ready for that judgment day. The day when God and Christ decide it's time to bring all their children home to be judged according to their hearts, wants, desires, thoughts, and actions.
I love the scripture about faith. Faith without works is dead. I try everyday to live my life like I should. As I said before, I know I fall short. Several times. I could always be more patient. Loving. Kind. Thoughtful. Helpful. Doing more to better those around me. I hope that as I continue down this path of life that I can somehow, somewhere, do a little better. Stretch a little more.
Moving to North Dakota has been a big change. A good change. One that I'd never want to take back. Not in a million years. It's taught me that some of the best things in life come at the hardest price. Humility. Submission. And diversity.
I've had a huge mind shift since moving here. People, in general, are nice. They are trying their best. They want to be good citizens. They know God and try to emulate His example in their words and deeds.
It's just that Satan only wants us to see the bad things in the world. He only wants us to dwell on the bad things. Haven't you ever noticed how something bad stays with you? It lingers. It doesn't go away unless you command it to go away. Make it go away. Put a very strong effort into it.
But the good things go right in the mind and right out the ear. Comes and goes so fast. We don't appreciate them. Not really. We take them for granted.
But it's the good things that we really need to hang onto. To cling to. To cherish. Those are the things that matter most. Once we start seeing the positive and not the negative, life becomes much easier. Accept the compliment. Accept the invitation. Share your talents. Your voice. Your opinion. Be nice. Be thoughtful. Help others. Say thank you. Follow Christ's example. After all, He is the perfect example. He even left us with a nice Bible, filled with stories and miracles in his life. He also left us with a second witness of Him, the Book of Mormon. What a huge blessing!
I've seen miracles. Experienced them in my own life. After paying tithing, all the bills get paid, even if the money isn't there, it'll appear. There have been many times when I've balanced my checkbook or checked my mint account, only to find that the numbers don't add up. That there's more money than there should be. It's also happened the opposite way...but that was my own error.
Or there's been times when I fed those in need, thinking I had only a small amount of food left, then went back and found my shelves full. They've never been bare. Never. And I use my food. I cook. And we eat. We share. And there's always more there. It's a miracle. One that I will always cherish.
When I donate my time to help those in need, more time is provided to do the things I need to get done.
You see, God is everywhere. He sees all things. He's omnipotent. He can do more than we'll ever be able to comprehend in this life.
I just can't wait to meet Him again someday. Just as I'm excited to see my earthly father again, to talk with him, reminisce with him, I have a feeling we'll all do the same with our Heavenly Father.
A parent's love is indescribable. At least it should be. I know all circumstances are different, but in my life, I've been blessed with amazing parents who emulate God's love for us.
I wish I could put into words how much love I have for my son. But I can't. It's just a feeling. Something rooted so deep that there's nothing in the world that could uproot it. I often say that my heart is walking around on the outside of my body. It is.
I've given pieces of my heart to my family. Friends. And most of all, God and Jesus Christ. I just hope that I can live up to my potential. Live up to what I'm expected to do here on this earth. I want to share my love with the world. Love is such a powerful and tangible thing. The love we share between each other is what makes the world a better place. As I look at people, I don't see strangers. I see fellow brothers, sisters, moms, dads, husbands, wives, fathers, mothers, grandpas and grandmas, aunts and uncles.
Every single person around us is loved. Not only by someone here on this earth, but by someone in heaven. Lets remember that and treat each other a little better. It's okay to smile. To slow down. To not cut that person off in traffic. The hold the door open. To let someone pass you. To take the higher road and say I'm sorry. I'm wrong. I love you. You're special. You mean the world to me. You're my sunshine.
This is for you, Andy. For you, Grandpa and Grandma Hales. For you, Grandpa Hancock. For you, Uncle Bill and Brent. For you, Gracie LeMae. For you, everyone else that I've known or will come to know. And especially for you, Dad. I love you. I miss you. And I'm doing my best to do what I'm supposed to do here on this side. Please help me. In any way you can. As you know, I fall short. Help me to rise up. Through God's grace, all things are possible.
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