Becoming a Smooth Stone

Things are looking up around here. (Very, very up. But more on that in the coming weeks.)

As we are finishing up this tough year and beginning new things, I've been particularly impressed to pay close attention to what we've been through. To see how each tough thing, no matter how small, polished off a rough edge.

Ethan asks me about the crosses on other churches on a regular basis. We always talk about how we don't celebrate the crucifixion, but the atonement and resurrection. Last week, it struck me exactly how different that makes us from other religions. We know that the plan we agreed to doesn't allow for the Lord to snap his fingers and make everything easy. The plan requires sacrifice, in many different ways.

Heavenly Father had to sacrifice his son to give us all the chance for eternal life.

Eve had to eat the fruit, sacrificing life in the garden of Eden so that the Lord's other commandment could be obeyed and we could all come to earth.

We've all chosen to sacrifice an easy life for the freedom of choice. To become the wondrous person the Lord sees inside, we have a lot of learning to do. And we all know that lessons stick when you've learned them the hard way.

So here we are. Coming out of a rough year. Feeling a little smoother. A little less rough.

Christmas Gifts

The last two weeks have changed my perspective on the Christmas season. I'd already been trying to focus on family instead of things, but apparently I had a ways to go. Since being home, I've had this obsessive need to rearrange and declutter my kitchen. I've been sorting through every cabinet, adding lots to the garage sale box. Because I need more room for good memories. Here's what changed me.

Spending time with Grandpa was so great. And we didn't need any stuff to enjoy our time together. It made me realize that the best gift he can give any of us is himself for as long as he can. After that, we'll be happy with his memories. Thanks for letting me help you get them into a form that will last for generations, grandpa.

Spending time with my parents and siblings and extended family made me miss them. And the east coast they live in. I was absolutely giddy about spending two weeks in the cold weather. I loved being able to watch my boys play with their grandparents, aunts, and uncles. Someone should move out here near us. Ben? Hannah Banana?? Dad???

Spending so much time with my kids (way more than I wanted because they slept with me) reinforced how much I love them and will do anything for them. I had several people comment on my mothering skills while traveling back home. In a good way. Each time I said thanks, but thought "I'm just doing what I need to. What are they talking about?" Looking back, I see that simply by not giving up when all of us were falling apart, I was showing them how much I loved them.

Spending so much time apart from my husband was horrible. We both decided we'd never do that again if we can help it. Grandma and Grandpa J, I don't know how you do it. I heard that song "All I Want for Christmas is You" on the radio while in NY and realized, besides the fact that I can't stand it, that all I wanted was to be home with John. I didn't need anything else. Just John.

So that's what's on my mind this December. I have my family and I don't need anything else.

Except maybe Rock Band for the Wii. And some black boots. I'm not perfect, people.

PS - I read this post today and it simply reinforced how important family can be. And reminded me of my favorite Christmas. Anyone else remember Ben sharing his pizza from Santa?

The Donkeys

Ok. Picture this. My 18th birthday. In the middle of an eons long family car trip. My parents decided that riding stinking donkeys down to the bottom of the Grand Canyon would be a great way to spend my big day. When they asked me to sign the liability form (b/c I was 18 and they couldn't sign it for me) I nearly refused. Many, many hours later, painfully perched in a chair, hoping I'd washed off all the stink in the shower, I had to sit through the waiters at a very formal restaurant singing "Happy Birthday" while my family quietly smirked. I'd made them promise they wouldn't sing to me.

I couldn't wait to be dropped of at college a few days later. Now, I'm thinking I'll have to remember this one when I have a snarky teenager. Take 'em down a few notches.