There Is No Better Friend Than A Sister

When I was a child, we spent a lot of time visiting my mom's family in Las Vegas.  We also had lots of times when her family would visit us in Utah.  It was always fun to see our aunt, uncles and cousins.  We especially loved it when Ron and Carol would come.  They had kids our ages and it seemed we never tired of playing together.  Many of my favorite childhood memories are of experiences we shared.  (I'll refrain from sharing them here, as I don't want to give my children any ideas.)  One thing I always loved was watching my mom and my Aunt Carol together.

My mom is sitting to the right of my grandmother, Carol is directly behind her.  As sisters, they were one and the same.  It seemed they had the same opinions and taste in everything.  For example, they both bought the exact same piano, while living in different states and without speaking to the other about it.  It's freaky how many times things like this happened with them.  All that aside though, they shared an incredible bond as sisters that would be difficult to rival.  When they were together, there was never a lull in the conversation, their voices sounded exactly the same, their opinions rarely differed and they loved each other fiercely.  They spent hours shopping when they were together and hours talking on the phone when they were apart.  This is the example of sisterhood that I grew up with.

I was blessed with one sister.  Though we don't sound exactly the same and our taste is different, we both love shopping for hours and chatting for hours. (Though, since we only live a mile apart it's rarely on the phone.)  She has been my partner in crime, has helped me out of numerous scrapes, we have laughed together, she has listened when I've been frustrated or angry, and been a shoulder to cry on more times than I can count.  Heavenly Father knew what he was doing when he sent her to our family.  He knew I would need her for my sister, and for this I'm truly grateful.

When Jenna was born we were so ecstatic, as I'm sure all new parents are.  But, when Abby came I was thrilled to know that Jenna had a sister.  Jenna was just as thrilled.  From the moment she laid eyes on that chubby bundle she was smitten.  She loved everything about her new little sister.  She would lay in the crib next to Abby and talk to her every morning, she would tell Abby every move she was making, she wanted to feed her, change her and play with her non-stop.  As Abby grew they became inseparable.  You never saw two sisters who loved each other more than they did.  That didn't change when Sadie joined their twosome.  It seemed there was room for one more sister and together they lovingly doted on her every need and whim. 

Have you seen the movie, Frozen?  If you haven't, please go see it.  I promise, you won't be disappointed.  I know it will come as no surprise to those of you who know me, but I cried through about half of that movie.  It's all about two sisters who desperately love each other, but circumstances have kept them apart.  Is there anything more awesome than when they are standing in the ice castle and Anna sings, "For the first time in forever, I finally understand.  For the first time in forever, we can fix this hand in hand.  Because for the first time in forever, I will be right here."  I love this declaration!  She's saying, I'm your sister, I love you, we can do anything together!

But even more than that, I love the ending.  When one act of true love was needed, we didn't turn to the handsome guy.  Ultimately, Anna's love for her sister Elsa produced the one act of true love that would save them all.  Elsa exclaims, "You sacrificed yourself for me?"  And Anna replies, "I love you."  Hand in hand, they were able to fix it.  I love this bond between sisters, this love that can give us the strength to face seemingly anything.  So, there I sat in that dark theater, crying my eyes out. 

I confess I haven't been able to get this touching movie out of my mind.  I find that I'm more grateful than before for the example of great sisterhood that my mom and aunt unknowingly showed me and for the sister I have been blessed with.  Truthfully though, I've spent a lot of time hoping and praying that my girls will share that same wonderful bond as sisters.  You see, Jenna is 14 now and Abby is 12 and Sadie is 7. 

While I know they love each other, there are times in these adorable girl's lives when they bicker and fight.  And while I realize this is normal for girls this age, I pray with my whole heart that they will develop a relationship and a love for each other that will span the ages.  A relationship that they can rejoice in throughout the eternities.  I pray that someday I will be blessed to see them shop together for hours, talk on the phone for hours, laugh together, cry together and take care of each other like only a sister can.  Because the fact is, there is no better friend than a sister.

Merry Christmas!

Jared and I spend a lot of time during the Christmas season teaching our littles about the birth of our Savior, Jesus Christ.  After all, He is the reason we have Christmas.  I have been a little frustrated with my little Sadie this year, as I have felt she is missing the point with all things related to Christmas.  Sunday, in Relief Society, the sister who was teaching our lesson was talking about this very thing.  She was telling about working so hard to teach her littles about the birth of Jesus Christ.  In December her home teachers came and, of course, asked the children why we have Christmas.  They all replied with, "presents"!  I could totally relate to her as she spoke of her frustration.  Then she said something that I really needed to hear.  She said, "It took me a while to learn that the children had to learn the right answer, so they could give the right answer, but also so they could feel the right answer in their hearts."  It struck me so deeply that I cried.  In my head, I often compare Sadie to my other girls.  I have spent a lot of time this month doing this very thing.  However, in my comparing I have forgotten one incredibly important thing.  She is seven, they are twelve and fourteen.  Just like we learn line upon line, she too, will learn line upon line.  Here a little, there a little.  It's my job to just keep teaching her and to be patient with her, remembering that she's still little.

Every Christmas Eve I share a story with my family that I read in a book by Emily Freeman.  She tells of her young family when they had just two children.  They could not afford to purchase a manger scene, but she wanted one so badly that she took a small job for a few afternoons to save the money for one.  She purchased a porcelain set that portrayed children dressed in nativity clothes.  She brought it home, set it up in their family room and explained to her two small children that they couldn't touch the set because it was quite fragile.  The following morning she came down the stairs to find all the figurines squished into the manger haphazardly.  She patiently fixed the arrangement and called her young son, Caleb in to again explain that he could not touch the set.  She says, "Caleb was such an obedient child, he always had been, and I knew this would not happen again."  She continues, "Imagine my surprise when I walked down the stairs the next morning and found the scene in the same disarray as the morning before.  This time I went right in and got Caleb.  Setting him in front of the displaced nativity I asked, Did you touch the manger?  He looked up at me with his round blue eyes and replied, "Yes."  I asked him, do you remember you're not supposed to touch Mommy's manger?  Again the reply was the same, "Yes."  Then why did you touch it, I questioned.  "Because they can't see Jesus," was his simple reply.   I looked carefully at the manger and realized that perhaps there was some order to the disarray.  His clumsy little hands had tried to place every figure in a circle around the most important piece of the set--the baby in the manger.  Crowded into the small stable, each had a perfect view of the baby.  Everyone could see Jesus.  It was a profound lesson  Needless to say, the display remained that way for the rest of the season, and has every year since then.  Interestingly, once each of the figures had been carefully placed in a circle around the baby, Caleb never touched the set again.  He was content with the arrangement.  The most important figure had become the focus."

I love this story, I read it every year at the beginning of the season as a reminder to myself to make Christ be the focus of my heart.  While the gifts, baking and family gatherings are such an important part of the season, I want to always remember to put my heart where it matters most.  This season has been a different one for me.  I chose to do some things to make the month more simple.  It turned out to be the best thing I could do.  I have been blessed with many peaceful evenings in my little living room to ponder the teachings of my Savior and His love for me.  It has been a great blessing to me.

I hope this Christmas season has been as enjoyable for all of you as it has been for me.  Christmas fills my heart with gratitude for that tiny babe in Bethlehem.  I am eternally grateful for His life, His example and His love that he showed when he made the ultimate sacrifice for me and you.  May you feel His peace and love for all of you this Christmas season and always is my prayer.

Merry Christmas!  Love the Walkers

Mary, The Handmaid of the Lord

We learned about Mary tonight during family home evening.  Maybe it's because I'm a mother that I love to read and ponder about Mary, the mother of Jesus Christ.  I'm fascinated by this woman who, at such a young age, was visited by an angel and given the responsibility of being a mother to the son of God.  As I was reading in Luke yesterday I was struck by a few verses.  In Luke 1:46 it starts, "My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hatch rejoiced in God my Savior.  For he that is mighty hath done to me great things and holy is his name."   I'm most certainly not a scholar on what Luke meant by these verses, but it sounded to me like Mary was bearing her testimony.  I love that we have this testimony of hers in our scriptures to draw strength from. 

I took a minute to tell my kids how Mary pondered after the birth of the Savior.  In Luke it tells of Christ's birth and then follows with all the visitors that came.  Angels proclaimed the birth to the shepherds, the shepherds came and worshipped the new babe and then went abroad sharing the good news.  After this is when it says,  "But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart."  This time when I read this verse I immediately thought of the births of each of my children.  It seems after a new baby is born you are visited by scores of people.  The happy grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins and, of course, any siblings.  With each one of my children, after all the visitors went home and Jared left the hospital for the night, I would sit in the hospital and hold my newest little bundle.  I would marvel at all their little fingers and toes, and stare at their sweet little faces and kiss their little heads.  I remember being so grateful that they had arrived safely, as it seemed most of my deliveries were cursed with some difficulty or another.  I remember thinking how close they were to heaven.  They had just left the presence of Heavenly Father, and I always wondered if they could still see beyond the veil. 

I can't help but wonder if Mary had some of those same thoughts.  As she held her new son, the son of God, did she marvel at the miracle He was?  Did she cuddle him and kiss his little head and thank a loving Heavenly Father that he had arrived safely.  I wonder if she knew what he would ultimately do for all of us.  Did she know He would give his life so that others might live?  I'm sure she knew of His divine mission and possibly held him a little closer and a little tighter, knowing his would not be an easy road. 

How grateful I am for the example of Mary, a loving and devoted mother and daughter of God.  She was a most righteous woman and a powerful example of good.  We finished our family night by pondering and each of us sharing.  If we had been given the opportunity to be present the night of Jesus Christ's birth, who would we have wanted to be and why?  The children's answers vary every year.  I love to hear who they would choose.  I feel like it's a tiny little insight into who they are and what they have become across the year.  It puts a smile on my face and fills my heart with warmth and gladness.  I am truly blessed to be a mother, the greatest job in the world.

**Picture She Shall Bring Forth A Son, by Liz Lemon Swindle**

I Was Not His Father, He Was Mine

Each year we spend several nights during December talking about different people who were present at the birth of Jesus Christ.  It's a tradition we started a few years ago that we have come to love.  I love studying about Christ's birth and I love sharing the things I learn with my cute little family. 

Tonight we discussed Joseph, the earthly father of Jesus Christ.  We imagined how he must have felt wandering through Bethlehem looking for a place for he and Mary to stay.  I asked the everyone how they thought he felt.  Jared said, "inadequate" and Ethan said, "sad".  I think they were both right.  I think there were probably many times in Joseph's life that he felt inadequate and sad.  His was not an easy calling.  Yet, he didn't shirk from his duties.  I definitely think there is a lesson to be learned there.  Even when times are difficult and we're sad, when we feel inadequate to accomplish the task that has been placed before us, we turn our face towards God and through Him all things are possible.

We also discussed how Joseph was filled with a serving heart.  He surely spent that night serving Mary and the newborn Christ child.  His service certainly didn't end there.  He spent his life serving this child that technically wasn't even his son.  What love he must have had for our Heavenly Father and what love he must have had for our Savior.  Surely he is a man to be honored and revered. 

We began a new tradition in our home tonight.  I have given one of our children a Christmas jingle bell to use as their symbol of service.  They will do a secret act of service for someone in our family.  When they are finished they will leave the jingle bell on that person's pillow and then it will be their turn to do an act of service.  Why are we doing this, you might ask.  When we were discussing tonight I asked everyone what Jesus would want us to give this season and Ethan said, "Kindness and our hearts".  I couldn't agree more. 

(Above picture by Simon Dewey)

Behold Your Little Ones

The primary program was today in our ward.  For those of you who don't know we are members of the LDS church.  In our church there is one meeting each year when the primary aged children (ages 3-11) spend the hour teaching the ward the things they have learned in primary that year.  I have always loved the primary program.  Even 100 years ago when I was in primary I loved the program.  Today was no exception.

I'm always moved to tears as these little children stand and recite scriptures and tidbits they have learned.  They sing songs about the concepts they have discussed all year.  In short, they offer testimonies of Jesus Christ and His restored gospel on the earth through words and music.  It's quite inspiring. 

I sat watching and listening today thinking about how blessed we are to be members of the true church of God on the earth.  These children are being raised to know that God loves them and they are His children.  What a great anchor for our children in a world that is filled with uncertainty.  I wept as they sang these words:

If the Savior stood beside me, 
would I do the things I do?  
Would I think of His commandments, 
and try harder to be true?  
Would I follow His example?  
Would I live more righteously
If I could see the Savior standing nigh,
watching over me?

He is always near me,
though I do not see Him there,
And because He loves me dearly,
I am in His watchful care.
So I'll be the kind of person
that I know I'd like to be
If I could see the Savior standing nigh,
watching over me.

When the children were finished with their program, the bishop stood and shared a scripture from The Book of Mormon.  It's a verse in 3rd Nephi when Jesus Christ visits the people in the Americas after His resurrection.  It reads:

He took their little children, one by one, and blessed them, and prayed unto the Father for them.  And when he had done this he wept again; And he spake unto the multitude and said unto them: Behold your little ones.

I truly believe we can learn much from a child.  I know that today my testimony in Jesus Christ, my Savior and the Redeemer of the world was strengthened by a primary full of Heavenly Father's little children.

Lessons I Learned From My Dad

My dad turned 70 this week.  I have been thinking about it for a while, I mean a person doesn't turn 70 everyday!  I've spent a lot of time thinking about the stories he has told us about his life and about growing up with him as my father. 

He really is such an amazing man and I have learned so much from him.

One thing my dad always did was be present in our lives. He attended countless sporting events we participated in, piano recitals, choir concerts, young women's programs, scouting events and the list goes on. He was always there cheering us on.  If it was important to one of his kids, it was important to him. He would stay up late (sometimes half the night) to help with school projects that had been procrastinated until the last moment.  He was just always there. Once I moved away from home I would often go to his office on BYU campus just to see him and talk to him. I knew whatever he had going on would be set aside for a moment so we could spend a minute visiting with me. 

My dad loves music. He was often singing around our house. In fact, he sang with Young Ambassadors at BYU when he was a student there a million years ago.  ;) I used to love sitting next to him in sacrament meeting at church so I could hear his awesome voice.  He plays the guitar and would play and sing for us as kids. My brother, Dave, and my dad enjoy playing together occasionally now. I was reminded not too long ago of waking in the mornings as a teenager. My dad would come upstairs singing the BYU fight song at the top of his lungs in order to wake three sleepy teenage children for school. I remember hating that so much!  Then, I moved away and I was forced to wake up to an alarm clock. Deep inside, I missed that little wake up song because I finally saw how much he poured his love for us into that silly song. 

Faith in God and in His plan for us. Nobody has more faith than my dad. He didn't just teach us the concept of faith, he lived his life with his faith on his sleeve.  His faith and love for the gospel was displayed verbally and also quietly, but clearly in his everyday actions.  Many mornings I would come downstairs and see his scriptures sitting out where he had been reading them.  He always found a way to kindly convince us that we wanted to watch all four sessions of General Conference in April and October.  He would sit quietly taking notes of each of the speaker's talks. When my mom began to get sick his faith was ever present. At times, I have wondered if he must have been discouraged by the illness that was robbing him of his wife, however, there was never any indication of discouragement. He continued on ever faithful in a loving Heavenly Father and His plan for our family.

My dad, really both of my parents, taught me to see the good in people.  I cannot remember a single time when my parents have spoken ill of somebody else. It just wasn't done. My dad found value in all he came in contact with. Everyone was always welcome in our home. If it was dinner time and friends were over, they weren't sent home, they were invited to join us. Every Sunday night we had a house full of friends and family.  I hope to have a home just like this.

My dad has a great sense of humor. There was always teasing and jokes at our house. There's still rarely a time when we're together that some teasing doesn't go on.  One funny thing I remember from my childhood is toilet papering people's homes. My mom didn't think it was safe for her two girls to go out toilet papering late at night. My dad didn't think we should miss out on this opportunity so he would take me and my friends and wait in the car for us. 

Sis. Elaine Dalton quoted President McKay as saying, "The most important thing a father can do for his daughter is to love her mother."  Nobody ever showed more love for their spouse than my dad for my mom.  His love for her was like nothing I have ever witnessed.  He was a devoted, fiercely loyal and loving husband.  Their life together took them down many roads.  They were blessed with many happy years surrounded by family and friends. My dad adored my mother constantly. He always called her "Coach" as he felt she was always helping him to be a better person. Later in their marriage,  through years of illness he was always by her side being her biggest support and offering a seemingly endless supply of love.  The night before she died he leaned down to her in bed, kissed her and said, "I love you, Coach." I will forever have that memory of the two of them imprinted in my mind and on my heart.

As you can see, my dad is a pretty remarkable man.  Honestly, he's my hero.  He always has and always will hold a very special place in my heart.  I love you, Dad.



Stacy

Faith vs. Fear and Worry

This beautiful girl went to a party last Friday night with her friends.

Jared and I were going to be going to Salt Lake for our date after we dropped her off.  I knew the friends she would be with, she had her cell phone with her and I trust her completely.  Still I felt compelled to be sure she had a way out if she should need it.  Thus, I made a quick call to my sister to see if she would be available should the need arise.

I was struck by the sadness of this situation.  How unfortunate it is that we live in a world where my 14 year old daughter can't go hang out with her friends without the worries of the world encroaching.  Then I remembered something I heard Elder Holland once say, "The future of this world has long been declared; the final outcome between good and evil is already known.  There is absolutely no question as to who wins because the victory has already been posted on the scoreboard.  The only really strange thing in all of this is that we are still down here on the field trying to decide which teams jersey we want to wear."  I think that was meant to inspire faith in all of us.  I know Elder Holland's statement to be true.  Still, I wonder, and ponder and let's be honest, I'm a mom, I worry.  What if she doesn't choose the right jersey?

Which brings me to the thoughts that have been consuming me for the past few days.  Jared and I have been reading in the Book of Mormon in Alma, specifically chapter 32.  I know about faith and the tiny seed and things I can do to help my faith continue to grow.  I know that good things and "light" things will help my seed of faith continue to grow strong.  I also know that fear is the opposite of faith.

Knowing these things led me to wonder.  Is worry the same as fear?  If I worry about my children, do I lack faith in Heavenly Father's promises to me?   At what point is my worry going too far?  When my children were all smaller my worries involved things like choking on something or getting lost at the store or whether or not they were sick enough to take to the doctor.  Now, I'm moving into a new realm.  I have older children.  They leave me everyday to go to school and other activities.  I can no longer control all of the things of this world that influence them.  On top of it all, these children have the nerve to come with their own personalities and distinct opinions, none of which are like their siblings!  :)

I know without a doubt in my mind that Heavenly Father loves me, Jared and our children.  I know that He only wants what is best for all of us.  I also know that when we met in the grand council in heaven that nothing was more important to Heavenly Father for His children than for us all to have agency.  It was so important to him that we have this agency that He was willing to lose 1/3 of his children for it.  As a mother, I can think of nothing more heartbreaking than losing a child, but to lose 1/3 of them is unfathomable.  I realize I have no idea the scope of Heavenly Father's sacrifice, but I know I would be forever changed and would lose a part of myself if I lost a child.

Still, with this agency comes the awesome blessing and, quite frankly, responsibility of choice.  We believe that age 8 a child is accountable for their choices.  I try to teach my children that they are able to make all the choices they want, but they can't choose their consequences.  Therefore, it's so important to make good choices so that your consequences are equally good.  Someone in the General Primary Presidency said once that if we don't teach our children to follow Christ the world will teach them not to.  I don't know about you, but I don't want the world determining what my children know.

So, we teach them.  We provide opportunities for them to see the good in the world and we shelter them from the bad as much as possible.  We have rules and guidelines and we expect them to be followed.  According to some people that we know, we are "mean" parents.  That's okay, I'm secure with being a "mean" parent.  I hope that means I'm doing my job.  But, it's still no guarantee that it will be enough, right?  So, that's where my worry and fear comes in.

When Abby went to her first day of 7th grade she was terrified.  Our school lets the 7th graders go on the first day alone to get the layout and the schedule all figured out before the other kids are there.  So, on her first day as I pulled up to the school she looked at me and said, "Mom, I'm really scared.  Will you say a prayer with me?"  I was already worried (shocking, I know) about her anyway and this request about pushed me to take her home and tell her she never had to go to that yucky junior high.  Somehow I was able to say a prayer with her and she got out of the car and walked in.  I watched her walk in while I cried in my car wishing so much that I could hold her hand as she went through the two hour day she had ahead of her.  I cried the whole way home.  I think I called Jared at work at least three times in two hours asking him if he thought she was okay.  I might have cried off and on for two hours as well though I'll neither confirm or deny that fact.  I remember wondering if Heavenly Father felt similarly when watching his children go through difficult times.  

I spend a lot of my time hoping that my kids are learning anything when we read scriptures, that they're not asleep during family prayer, that they know deep down that we love them and that their Heavenly Father loves them.  I pray when I drop them off at school each morning that they'll remember who they are and that they'll stand up for what is right and good, even if they have to do it quietly, all by themselves.  I pray they'll find success and feel good about their accomplishments and be kind to themselves through their failures.  I pray that Heavenly Father will watch over them and protect them.  I pray that Jared and I will be able to hear the promptings of the Holy Ghost and be able to be watchmen on the tower to protect them and teach them what is right.  And in the end, I pray that it will have been enough.  I pray that they will have a desire to have a personal relationship with their Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. 

In the end, I know it will be up to my kidlets which path they choose.  I will always love them, no matter what they choose.  However, I know they will be happier if they choose the right.  That's where my faith comes in.  I will do everything within my power to teach them while they are with me.  Then, I'm going to trust Heavenly Father to take care of the rest.  Will I ever stop worrying about them?  Probably not, I think that's just part of being the mom.