A bit more run down, but this is nothing.

I just got a call from a good friend. The idea of "mouring with those that mourn" was never more clear to me than right now.

 After being married at 17 and having several miscarriages, she finally had a beautiful baby girl. Unfortunately, not long after that, her husband began having an affair. He left them and remarried within the week the divorce was final. She survived on her own--just her and her daughter. One relationship landed her in the hospital with such critical injuries and such an extensive stay that she lost everything she owned and custody of her daughter as well.

Upon exiting the hospital, steal healing from massive injuries, she stayed at the WCA, where she was taught the Gospel of Jesus Christ by our lovely sister missionaries. She got out and started to get on her feet and struggled to stay faithful in her new found faith.

This is where I met her. I was the Junior Primary teacher--yep, all of it. So, I taught her daughter and my daughter and they quickly became friends and loved Sunday school together. Her ex-husband took her to court and actually got a judge to rule that she could not take her daughter to church with her when she visited on weekends. This blew me away. I saw it with my own eyes as it unfolded. We were not allowed to teach this beautiful little girl who truly was gaining a testimony anymore about the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

In the coming years, the adversary worked hard on my friend through various temptations and negative thoughts and years of loneliness. Once, she told me that had I not come to her home, no one would have known if she were dead or alive. She had no one else. Now, I know she had faithful home teachers, and I was her visiting teacher, but we were friends too and I think she was really talking about friends. I believe he did this to make her struggle, in the hope that she and her daughter would eventually be lost.

I'll tell you that Heavenly Father loves his children and she is one of his most precious daughters. He has never forgotten her in her trials. And she has remembered him. A couple of years ago she married. A couple of months later her husband accepted the Gospel, though she had been very reserved in sharing--God sent a messenger--a wonderful bishop who was guided by the Holy Spirit. Her husband was baptized and confirmed and later received the priesthood and they were sealed in the temple this last August. They have been in frequent temple attendance since.

I must tell you a couple more things. Her husband has sickle-cell anemia and is dying...eventually of the disease. They knew this before they were married. She is looking forward to life in a wheelchair, for in the years since I met her, she was diagnosed with a rare, genetic disease that would cause her spinal column to grow closed and crush her spinal cord. She is in a wheel chair much of the time now.

And today her husband is in the hospital for what may be the last time. This has been a long entry, but I must tell more! While in the midst of pain, of his heart and mind, he has refused all visitations and is questioning, "Why? What have I done to suffer like this?" He refuses to talk to his wife.

My friend expressed to me how sad she was, she's only had him in her life such a short time, and how much it hurts to not be able to stand at his side in his suffering. How this time it is different, having been in the hospital several times since they've been married--but this time he is giving up.

What can we do but pray? We are too far away to offer any other assistance. But already we have seen our prayers answered. Her bishop called her again and is doing all he can to reach her husband. In these cases, what is there but the intervention of the Lord, whether through his servants or the Holy Ghost? There is faith! I know my friend's faith is great. Because of that there is hope. Each passing moment is filled with more hope, though she's received no communication yet from her husband. Finally, there is charity--I cannot begin to describe all of its aspects or all of the directions it is coming from, especially from her Savior.



I Corinthians Chapter 13: 4-13

4^aCharity ^bsuffereth long, and is ^ckind; charity ^denvieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,     UAdd a Note 

 5Doth not behave itself ^aunseemly, seeketh not her ^bown, is not easily ^cprovoked, thinketh no evil;     UAdd a Note 

 6Rejoiceth not in ^ainiquity, but rejoiceth in the ^btruth;     UAdd a Note 

 7Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.     UAdd a Note 

 8Charity never ^afaileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.     UAdd a Note 

 9For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.     UAdd a Note 

 10But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.     UAdd a Note 

 11When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.     UAdd a Note 

 12For now we see through a ^aglass, ^bdarkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.     UAdd a Note 

 13And now abideth ^afaith, ^bhope, ^ccharity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

Thank God for this wonderful gift. 

And she finally reached him and he's letting her come to him in the hospital, though he does not believe he will live beyond the morning.

Thank you Heavenly Father for how you love us and how you answer our prayers. 
My friend said I could share this--that it might strengthen someone else. That they might know the power that our prayers have. 

Sunday is a Special Day

I was surprised that today was fast Sunday. I was grateful for it though. I like to hear the testimonies and I like to share my testimony. I got to today.

I believe (this isn't it exactly), ahem...I believe that David is a man like Joseph...you know, Mary's Joseph. I believed him when he looked at me and said, "I'm here to help." He's a helper too--just better paced and a little wiser.  Together we have several great ideas and accomplish many of them. But here's the struggle.

Last year we did not get to have Christmas together and I think we overcompensated and fell short of the feelings that we love about this time of year. Certainly, we fell short of being focused on the Savior. As a result, David and I decided that this year we did not want the focus to be on presents, but on one another--so, we agreed that everyone was going to get just one. We've tried this before and have had unsuccessful results--but happy results just the same.

However, already this year it seems that other people are stressing to us the importance of presents--not by lecturing, but by giving. So much for a year with only 1 gift and stocking for each.

But the intent was there. David and I have been married for 5 years this last November. We've discussed several times what the true meaning of Christmas is and what traditions we could create for our family that would really help us remember.

One we have settled on is reading the Christmas Story in Luke 2--based on the tradition of one of our apostles. We've had varying success.
Two is that we decorate the house and tree together as a family. That is always a big hit.
Three is opening one present on Christmas Even (something meaningful) and turning down all the lights and watching the room and quietly trying to visit.
Four is having prayer in the morning on Christmas Day and trying to slow down.
Five is having Enchiladas for Christmas dinner. This is actually my mom's and so far we're not good at making Enchiladas like she is, but we keep persevering.

If someone else out there has a remarkable idea that would truly help us teach our little children and make Christmas more meaningful--please feel free to post.

We're still working on it.

On Being Compelled--or Compulsion?

I think that Heavenly Father compels me not to do a lot of things--oddly enough because I'm a little compulsive. Now, I'm not talking about excessive handwashing--like in Merriam-Websters online dictionary--but compulsions to help people. I cannot claim any additional insight or authority to tell people what to do or do it for them. I know this. I understand inalienable rights pretty well if I slow down to think about them. But my knee-jerk reactions could certainly get me into trouble if Heavenly Father weren't here to temper me.

I'll give an example:

Valerie says, "Yeah, I'm taking my vacuum over my to my parents house to vacuum for them, since theirs broke." My very first thought in this instance, back in 1998, was "I have a vacuum I can give them!" Now let me explain what I already knew at that moment. I knew that Valerie's parents were very well off and her predominant source of support (not necessarily financial--but emotional and parenting as well), while I was a single mother trying to put myself through my bachelors degree and I only had one vacuum and no money. In that instance, the impulse did not make it out of my mouth; my brain was just a little faster than my compulsion.

At one point, a friend told me that he was behind on her rent. I decided we would sell one of our cars but deep down, I was thinking I would catch her up on her bills. This is where Heavenly Father stepped in. I couldn't sell that car for nothing! And it was a nice little car! Soon, we needed two cars when I went to work in another town--so, efficient as he is he helped me by making us keep the car and helped my friend by bringing her to a better home and a better financial situation that stemmed from the character she gained going through her trials.

I've found myself lately doing the same thing. Reaching out to help others when I'm actually struggling quite a bit. Now this seems like a good thing, right? Right. Which is why it is so easy for my strength (I care about people) to become my weakness (I'm not focusing on my own struggles and working to overcome them, but rather am delaying them.)

So, Heavenly Father compels me to slow down, to be physically unable to help, until I am rational enough to realize that I did not have the capacity in the first place.

I am grateful to him for that. I love my Heavenly Father for knowing me so well and helping me so much. I also love that he does let me help as much as I am able--right up to the highest point I can reach.

Bored People Are Boring People

That's a phrase that David and I have used a lot on Sam since sixth grade. Everytime she would say she was bored. David asked me, in front of Sam--Katie, do you ever get bored? I really couldn't think of a time--not since I was a kid, say at a family reunion. I like them so much now, it's hard to believe I ever hated them. But Friday I was bored. I had convinced myself to get up and get dressed and get out of the house. I went to book club. Book club was NOT boring--but it was short--there were lots of questions, some suppositions, but little discussion. I felt like maybe I monopolized or discouraged the event.

Afterward, I visited with my hostess and that was not boring, but once I got the kids in the car and they started sleeping, I just didn't feel like coming home to this dark and dirty little house. Now, although my house is messy sometimes, my mood was certainly coloring the situation--just not as much as I wish it was. My house was a disaster! The last thing I wanted to do was unload the kids into it. So, I didn't. I went for a short drive and started house hunting again. I think I've found a great find and that perked me up. We've intended all along to keep this house, but we'll see. We're weighing our options between getting a house that fits us or remodeling this one over time. The cheaper option would certainly be this other home and it's new and we would never need to remodel it and we could live in it forever! That's how I felt about it.

So, I was bored--started thinking I must be a boring person--and did what I think I must always do. I gave myself an idea to start toying with. I wasn't bored for the rest of the evening--which was long, as Sam didn't get home till 10.

I crawled into bed and didn't post--but this post was in my thoughts.

Sleep came first.

I was so tired by the end of the day, I had to sleep first and post now. The day we had was really pretty happy..if a little cooped up in a messy house. We're getting there. The Kitchen is a little more than 1/2 done thanks to Samantha. She's a real sport for coming in after her 3rd straight game in a row and doing her job, unloading and reloading the dishwasher. Typically, she's just supposed to unload it every morning, but if she doesn't do it, then she gets to load it as well as sweep and wipe off the table and counters. She had a good attitude last night. She even watched the kids for  me while I went to get her sheet music and they all had a good time. That tells me Sam was paying attention. She even gave Zebby a bath--the dirty little mongrel he was! Boys!

Ellen also was a very nice little girl all day. I think my little one's needed a break from the pre-school/daycare routine also. Ellen does great with Zebediah, and tries to teach him many good things. Sometimes she can get a little bossy, but overall she means very well. She loves her little brother and sister. Ellen and Zebby are great friends.

Zebby just wanted to curl up in my lap all day long and be held. He's become so cuddly and desiring to be held that he's even that way in his sleep. He's snuggled right next to me all night, so tight I can barely move, and if I do get out of bed, he instantly rolls over into my spot. He is the sweetest little guy. I don't know what I'm going to do with him when David comes home. We might just have him between us every night. Given that we're still in a full size bed that my feet hang over, that is not the most enjoyable sounding prospect.

Brihstow has been a bucket of giggles. She just loves to be noticed and held and talked to. I've never heard a baby so eager to be communicating. Some mornings I wake up to her saying, "Bah, blah, bgaaaa, blah ba bgalala" just about as fast and long winded as an auctioneer, no joke!
I sometimes think given the right conditions I could understand her babble. She's very serious about it, she must be saying something.

All in all, it was a good day--a good day of rest.