The Garbage Man

I have never met him.  He hauls our trash away every Tuesday morning.  Most times I forget to put it out on Monday night.  Usually I get the trash put out around 8:30am... it is supposed to be set out be 6am.  Our garbage man rocks.  He will keep an eye out for our trash can as he goes about his route and will then empty it.  We have even tempted fate and added more garbage after the first was dumped and he has come by to get the extra garbage.  One day I will meet him and thank him.  He is a tender mercy.

Answers from sitting on a toilet

I am supposed to speak tomorrow in church during our sacrament meeting.  I feel I cannot focus on anything until I have let this blog escape my brain.  Please tell me this is a normal occurrence among people who write in a "blog."

A couple months ago I was having a rotten, emotional day where the kids were screaming, house was dirty, and I felt the weight of thinking I needed to fix everyone else's problems when in reality I just wanted someone to come up to me and say, "How are you doing today?" and then sit and wait for a response.

I had friends stop by through out the day.  None of them noticed that I had tears almost welling up in my eyes as they sat there and told me how they were and their problems.  Normally, this is very welcome and I enjoy the trust that my friends have in confiding with me.  But, that day I needed to have someone listen to me.... Not even listen... Just ask how I was and mean it.

I remember standing in my kitchen, tears now streaming down my cheek and looking up as if I could see the heavens and say, "Can't someone just ask me how I am?"  I then pushed it aside and continued about my daily duties doing everything.

It was not an hour later that I received a text message from a friend.  "Hi, how are you doing?" it read.  I stared at it for longer than I should have astounded.  How did this friend know?  She herself had a house full of kids, lots going on and was able to stop and wonder how I was? Wow.  I sent back a quick message and didn't hear anything back for a day or so.  Which did not matter. I knew that someone in that minute was wondering how I was doing.

I later met with this friend and told her the story of what had transpired.  She sat there completely overwhelmed.  Her side of the story follows.

She had been madly cleaning their home as they were preparing to move, had sick kids, and company visiting her.  She escaped to the bathroom for a brief minute of solitude in the which she pulled out her phone and typed a long message to me... then deleted the majority of the message and simply wrote, "Hi, how are you doing?"  Quickly finished her business in bathroom and promptly forgot about her phone busying herself with other duties.

We both knew that we were directly affected by an answer to my prayers.  I needed to know at that moment that someone was thinking of me and wondering about me.  She was living her crazy life in still a manner that she was able to head the prompting of the spirit to know that I did not need a long book written to me, but that a simple question would suffice.

I know that we are not alone.  I am a daughter of a Heavenly Father who loves me and knows exactly what I need to be able to continue forward.  I know that he works through other people to accomplish this task.  I can only pray that I be used to help others when they are silently praying for an answer as my friend did that day.

Gwen: herder of little ones

Has anyone ever taken 5 kids ages four and under to the doctor...with only one of them being sick?  I have.  It was not amusing.  The parking lot was packed and had to park in the very far confines of hospital parking lots.  Which of course made us even more late.  Then just so happens all the kids took their shoes off right when we pulled in to the spot. And of course, it is like herding sheep trying to get them to go through a single door, let alone sit still in the waiting room.

Did I mention the looks I got from other moms?  Priceless!

Turns out the sick one had strep which meant that we had to go the pharmacy to get drugs to make her better.

That was when we met her.  Gwen.  You know the overly friendly people that you do not know if they are special needs or if they are really just that nice?  This was Gwen.  I herded the troop into the pharmacy which has a little table, chairs and coloring books that the kids usually sit at for an entire two minutes.

A nice, young gal in her young 20s popped into the pharmacy wondering if anyone had a cell phone charger... nope.  "Oh you have kids!  Can I play with them?"  Sure I say.  Have at it!
She then sits with them and proceeds to play, laugh and converse with them in their simple language.
I go to check on the prescription.  The doctors never sent it.  It would be at least a half hour.  Not good.

We decide to go wander around.  Gwen jumps up. "I am going with you.  You need help with all these kids!"  We all head outside and she proceeds to play games with them and keep them entertained.  I was left standing there, staring at her.  Are you real?  What complete stranger sees a stressed out, tired mom with too many kids at a doctor's office and just starts playing with them to keep them happy and be entirely involved and loving the attention they are giving her?

Gwen had to leave to make a phone call and we parted ways for the time being.  As we wandered the halls and elevators of the hospital, the kids worried they would never see Gwen again.  They were drawn to her.

After a few minutes we decided to head back and pray that the prescription was ready.  Thank goodness it was sitting there waiting and we could hit the road.  As we left the kid's eyes were searching for their special new friend.  Annie looked up at me and said, "I really love Gwen.  I need to tell her that."

Just outside the door and around the corner was our friend Gwen sitting on the bus stop bench.  Annie and the other kids ran straight up to her, threw their arms around her and with all the love they could muster, "We love you Gwen!"  She dropped down on her knees, tears filling her eyes.  "Oh thank you kids! I love you too"

She then insisted on giving each kid a stamp, pencil, pad of paper, etc from her purse.  After more hugs, we left and herded our way to the car.

Gwen was such person that I still to this day cannot interpret if she was an angel sent right at that time to help me out or if those kids were all right there as her angels to help her feel love.  Either way.  That meeting, that day was not a mistake and prayers were answered.  She felt loved if even by a mob of toddlers and I felt that my Father in Heaven knew how badly I needed another set of hands to help herd.  Tender Mercy.

Just trying to look romantic...

I have a slight problem.  A conversation today reminded me of this problem.  I don't like to be told that I can't do something.  Especially being compared to someone else who might be able to do that something. 

Which brought back a memory that I love.

We hired cheap photographers.  Never do that for your wedding.

As we were taking pictures outside the temple, we made awkward poses trying to look romantic.  Ha, must have been a sight!  The photographer suggested that James pick me up and swing me around making my dress swing out.  It turned out pretty nice and was fun...  Stopping to gain our footing, I joked that I should now swing James around me.  The photographer said something implying that I could not/should not do that.

Done.  It was immediately decided that James stand on the little table to get ready for lift off.  I wrapped my arms around him and in my little white heels in the green grass and beautiful dress I swung my cowboy around.

The photographer did not know what to say or do.

I can do whatever I put my mind to. :)

(Big thanks to Cami Joy Photography for fixing our pictures!!)

Now for a contradiction in my problem.

I have never taken a drink of alcohol.  Never.  Not even once.  Not even a sip.

Have I been invited to? Yes.  Have I been begged? Yes.  Have I been taunted?  Yes

I was asked today from one of our clients who thought I was wonderfully absurd, "You never even tried it?  It wasn't like the forbidden apple that you just wanted to eat because others said you cannot?"

I have never had the slightest desire to try it or for that matter to ever get "drunk" or "happy" or "relax" or whatever other reason there is.  Weird, probably.  Maybe this does not contradict my problem.  It could just be that everyone expects me to have tried alcohol before and I choose to not follow the crowd...  hmmm.

I am blessed to be married to another weirdo also.  He has never taken a drink either.  Peculiar people eh?

She dreamed me before she met me.

I have another blog that has been wanting to materialize for quite some time now also...
It is of a little Peruvian woman opening the door to a set of sister missionaries, one a native Peruvian,  the other, a tall, blonde American.  We had never met before but when her eyes met mine her jaw dropped.  I was brand new out in the field, debating my decision of being there and not understanding anything at all.  She tried explaining that she knew me.  I tried explaining we had never met.  She insisted that we had met.  As the conversation unfolded I came to understand that she had a dream with me in it the night before.  She dreamed that I was running as fast as I could.  Up hills, down hills, up hills, down hills, mountains, valleys...

I have reflected a lot on her dream.  The thought that she had dreamed of me before we met.  Interesting.  Preexistence?  I may have to wait to find out why this transpired.  But the message in the dream... I have had a wonderful life.  I am very blessed.  It has been a lot of  up hill and downhill.  Some days are as tough as sprinting up the side of a mountain and others are as slippery as sliding down.

Each stage in my life since than, however different, a common theme has been prevalent.  I keep running.  Keep moving.  I believe that a still person cannot be inspired to go in the direction that they are needed to go.  They must move.

At the time I took that as answer to keep going.  Stick it out on the mission, no matter the hills or the valleys needed to climb.   Keep going.

I now picture my life.  Mom of three great kids, wife to a hard working husband, owner of a landscaping business, working with a biotech company, referee, aspiring chef (haha!), and whatever else I decide to be.  I know that if I keep moving, improving myself and keeping my eye towards the over all goal of having my eternal family, I will be lead in the direction I need to go.

Futuremissionary@.....

I have been doing a lot of reflecting lately and many blog posts have been created in the offices of my brain and then never processed.  I am feeling a bit backed up (It has been only a year since my last post...)   One thing on my mind and has been for a very long time.  Years to be exact, is a certain family that I do not think knows made such an impact in my life.  I even made a special trip to visit them in their home and all the kids came to visit.  I chickened out and did not tell them what their example did for me at that time in my life.

I remember a friend who went to Seminary with me.  His mom was the teacher of our little Seminary group and every morning we sat on the little couch in their home or at the church and tried to stay awake and learn from the scriptures.  I honestly do not remember much from what was taught.  (She was a great teacher, I was just a distracted, tired teenage girl.) I do remember recognizing the importance of the gospel and the scriptures.  I saw the difference that scripture study brought to my life and the lives of those who chose to or chose not to study.

This friend had an email address which was futuremissionary@......  I remembered being taken back by the boldness in that statement.  I am a future missionary.  That said a lot.  It meant he knew that the church was true and was prepared to defend it and invite others to learn also.  That scared me at the time.

This family moved away the next year and we lost contact but for brief exchanges every once in a while.  The email address stuck forever with me.  The more it sank in the more I had a desire to be a future missionary, to serve with all my time, heart and being.  To help others find the happiness that I knew to be true and to learn of eternal families.  It became so ingrained in me that it surprised me when it didn't make sense that I leave for a mission.  I had a great boyfriend, a track scholarship, going to school, best shape of my life and yet I knew that I was a future missionary and that I had a work to do.

Thank you to the friend and his family for the examples that they showed to me.  I will be forever in debt.  The lovely people of Peru will be in debt.  My family will ever be in debt to you for the small act that changed me.