It's Been Rough

IAT = I am thankful

This isn't something I am going to post publicly. I know my blog is public. I think. But there aren't that many followers, so it's mostly private. I'm not putting it on social media. And I keep thinking, I should take the posts I have so far, and put them in a book. Also in Dec of 2021, my facebook got deleted. I backed it up about eight months earlier, so I am wondering if I can extract all of that into some kind of memory book. Anyhow,

2020 really turned my world upside down. And I am not sure I have recovered. And the world has been spiraling so crazy ever since, I am not sure anyone will recover. But the crazy happened for me a few years earlier not knowing but suspecting I was in perimenopause, and then actually experiencing menopause in 2019. You think it's like a thing that happens and then that's it. But it's so not. 

So it's been many years of entering and changing, and trying to survive. On the one hand, I've been quite fortunate, and only had one hot flash and a few night sweats. But the emotional roller coaster, lack of sleep, trying to regulate my hormones, and figure out what the crikey is wrong with my brain has been frankly overwhelming. 

Add in changes in my career, taking on an elderly uncle for eighteen months as he declined and being completely responsible for his life and every decision for six months, and then his death and aftermath of all of his belongings and affairs, while trying to support another family member through alcoholism and it's been a lot. A lot! There have been days I could barely get out of bed. But being the kind of person who seems to be incapable of staying in bed longer than 37 minutes after I wake up, I get up and do the things.

Some days I just go go go and I collapse late at night. Other days, I wander downstairs from my office and I think, "ok, I need to take a five minute break and just sit here on the couch, and take a couple of breaths. After two breaths, my body goes, "Hey! she's sitting! CRASH." And every ounce of energy drains from me and a first in my life, every ounce of caring with it. And my exhaustion says, "it will all be there tomorrow." And a distant voice within whimpers, but there's this and that and the other thing and ohhh, I'll just put my head down. And OUT.

So many balls I have juggled and then one drops and I am ashamed or embarrassed or despondent and I have to explain myself by trying to help others understand that a part of me is disabled and please forgive me and I will try not to make the same mistakes. Sigh.

The weight I put on, will. not. come. off. I say it in all honesty. 90% of the time, I am eating the way I believe and want to. Very healthy. Doesn't seem to matter. Exercise has not been as consistent, because energy. So, I have learned to accept myself more as I am, while still hoping for a day when I will be more energized. I'll never give up and I keep tweaking little things.

There have been overwhelming amounts of loneliness, because we are officially empty nesters. Having said that, I am really looking forward to the temporary return of Emily this summer from Guam. And a short visit from Olivia from Virginia, and our trip together in July. And I love our grands and kids and any time we can be together. I love them so much.

I have to acknowledge that some of the stress and overwhelm are because of my own choices and how active I choose to be at any one time. At the busiest, I was coaching in two communities, facilitating courses, doing my own EFT with people, recertifying as a Clinical EFT Practitioner, doing the realtor thing, and investing. Oh, and I started a new business.

The last few months I have been peeling off what isn't needed. Coaching less in both communities. Stopping my Realtor business except for helping people find a good agent. Spending more time developing my own EFT training course for doctors and coaches. And investing more. Kind of. We're finishing a flip and then I am looking for new opportunities. I have found I really do love being involved with real estate. And I like the freedom of doing my own thing rather than relying on so many others to be a success. Translate receive a paycheck. (I want to write a book, hahahah. I've wanted that for years).

I won't give the details, but suffice it to say there has been a lot of emotional pain with multiple people close to me. Some of that is improving. Some of it sadly is not. I guess that's the way life is sometimes. It's also the first time in my life that I've gone from an extremely demanding leadership job in the church, to several smaller ones, to teaching, to not teaching. to temporary choir director, to just ministering. It's welcome and not at the same time. 

With all that said, I can't help but go back to gratitude. For the first time in our lives, the last few years have been better financially. Another reason to like investing. Bret will be RETIRING next Christmas 2024. I can't even wrap my mind around that. AND, we've done the math and apparently we won't be starving. Our goal is to pay off our house as quickly as possible and all other debt except cars. And maybe I will retire with him.

I started a hyperbaric oxygen and red light clinic. That's a whole other story. I had hoped it would take off a lot quicker. I am learning and growing and stretching but I am super excited for the growing interest and clients and the benefits they are receiving. I have a new client who is actually buying a chamber and I am so excited for him to get the life saving results he needs and wants. Praying for him and really hoping. 

I think I am gradually improving in my health. I expect my business to grow. And I am in this weird space with a whole lot of other Christians in the world, waiting and watching. The time seems so close. I so hope. I want to stand in that day and be a witness to it. And I guess that's it for now. Since I'm not getting specific, there's not much more to say. It's been rough, but life is still good. So, I will go to sleep with that in my mind and heart.

 

Merry Happy New Year

IAT = I am thankful

If I wait to send out letters by mail, it likely won't happen. I really would love to continue to stay connected. Judging by the number of cards I received this year, I may not be alone. So, it's an email this year with the Norton family highlights. 

I hope you'll enjoy just a few basic news items straight from out of my head. :-) (Sorry it's long. I don't know how to be brief).

Dec/Jan- Our year actually started at the tail end of December when we went to the airport and picked up our foreign exchange daughter, who came from Austria and filled the first half of our year with fun, laughs, and opportunity! We loved receiving her from the plan, sharing our cultures with each other and her becoming a big part of our family. Olivia enjoyed having a sister for the last part of her senior year. We all went to Utah to share in a baby shower with Joseph and his bride. And Bret and Dawn went back to be with them as they renewed their vows in the temple. A joyful month that led to...

February- Our sweet mom and grandma came down with a light case of covid. We had no idea that by the end of March, we would lose her. She had a steep cognitive decline and spent her last couple of months away from home. It was quite an adjustment to have her right out our back door to visiting her in Mesa the few times we could get down there. She lived a life of love. We were all blessed by it and we miss her terribly. And Joseph and Sophia's twins were born! It was extremely gratifying to be able to attend their birth and help their momma with EFT during her labor. Unforgettable and joyful. We are so grateful for these beautiful girls, Shiloh and Coveney. 

March- Lost our mom/grandma, but enjoyed the extended family time together. Noah got engaged to his girlfriend Lexxandria. 💗

April- We took our girls to Hawaii. I went many years ago and had looked forward to going with my dear hub. We had such a great time and Emily actually went separately with her friends, but we had a couple of planned things together. Such a beautiful time together!

May- Noah was married in Utah to his bride and we went up for that and for the blessing of the twins. It was a beautiful wedding and we loved family time together and it was wonderful to have such joyful celebrations in the year that was 2021. AND Olivia's end of everything. So strange to not only see her childhood come to a close, but to see an era in our lives do the same as she planned her exit from the nest. Proms, graduations (Valedictorian/seminary), and getting ready for college.

June- We took a much needed trip to Georgia to be with my family. We had not been there for several years and enjoyed a wonderful time at my cousin's lake house, just relaxing and being together also with my brother's family. We said goodbye to our favorite frauline, celebrated the wedding with an Arizona reception, and my brother and I went to California to move my uncle to Arizona to be near us for his health. We're grateful for a new daughter and the time we had with Maria. We hope to go to Austria one day, but are waiting for some of the restrictions to hopefully be lifted over time.

July- Mostly enjoyed a quiet month at home except for going to visit Bret's dad and his wife in Las Vegas. It was too quick of a trip.

August- Said goodbye to Olivia as her Dad drove her across the country to Southern Virginia University to major in Art and Graphic Design. She's loving VIrginia. We've never had one that far away before. 

September- Said goodbye to Emily as she moved to Guam to care for three young children as a nanny. They lost their momma to breast cancer last year. She lives in short sleeves and bathing suits and is at the beach multiple times a week. The weather is near 80 degrees year round. She's even farther than Olivia. And the house is suddenly QUIET! 

October brought Joseph and his family to visit. Just wonderful.

November- We drove to Virginia to take Olivia a car and attended a Virginia/Notre Dame game.

December- Our favorite season. I started a new YouTube channel for EFT.  Gained our seventh grandchild. A sweet little baby girl (Lucia) born to Anica and Chris and big brother Ricky. Nothing better than a baby at Christmas time. We enjoyed the season and our family around us. 2021 had many good things.

We lost several close friends this year to the virus. It's been quite sobering for me to see multiple friends become widows, some very young. Bret serves on the high council. I teach Relief Society. Life is full and good in spite of nearby elderly relatives with addictions and health problems. It reminds us to be grateful. We hope Bret will be able to retire in the next few years. Kind of an incredible thought. Drew, Liz and their family (Charity, Liam, Luke) are doing well and everyone is healthy.

My coaching business has expanded at Rare Faith (Wonderful Free Lovely Stuff for you). This year I taught several Mindset Mastery courses, and Genius Bootcamps. I have one starting this month and next month, if you want to ask me about it. I have also been asked to coach a year long program called Achieving the Impossible with several participants and great coaches. I have fully finally embraced EFT and the gifts I have with it and have found so much joy in my growing business helping other people. Here's my new YT channel if you want to check it out.

I can hardly believe it, but with very few exceptions, I have retired from real estate. I will keep my license active because I have moved into investing, but my last listing is just about to go under contract, and I am only available for those I know and love now. The rest gets referred to my amazing wonderful partner, Jefferson! :-) We (Bret and I) now own five investment properties. Different stages and strategies. It's been pretty awesome being involved with a community that has great education and networking with people that are like minded and willing to partner and help us invest with none of our own money unless we want to. There have been ups and downs but I am excited for the sale of three of them and new opportunities to learn more and grow personally and financially. I have been fortunate to also be involved in coaching in this community. Love using all of my strengths and having opportunities to overcome my weaknesses.

Through coaching and real estate I was able to travel some this year. The world is still a beautiful and glorious place. We are thankful for the good things and we're even thankful for the occasional difficulties that we all seem to experience. May this year bring you many blessings. If ever you want to reach out, I LOVE socializing, so feel free. Bret might talk to you too. My contact info is below and we pray our greetings find you well.

Love, the Nortons

Bret, Dawn, Emily, Olivia

dawn@eftcoach.com

 

You GET to Do the Dirty Work

IAT = I am thankful

It's SO HARD to believe this is only my 3rd post this year, but there it is. I suppose it's an indication of time and ability. 

I had a pretty sacred experience in the middle of a bout of anger recently. I have pondered whether to share the full detail or not. And I'm guessing since I am pounding on the keyboard, I decided to do it. My hesitation is two fold. 1) Revealing personal details about my dad would cause him to feel ashamed and embarrassed. 2) My inspiration is one of the most profound of my life, and I don't want anyone to see me as more than I am; a flawed human just like you grappling with my circumstances from time to time.

The last few years have brought new knowledge that my dad is an alcoholic. It was only recently I became aware that it's been his cross to bear for his entire adult life. Because he recently turned 80, we moved him to Arizona to be closer for the times he has emergencies. And because of the alcohol, there have been numerous emergencies over the last three years. The most recent was just one month ago.

He seemed to be doing much better and was successfully decreasing his intake, and then there was a triggering event I won't go into details about. His spiral began with the familiar incoherent phone calls to me and several of my family members. His birthday came and went with no recognition, not because we didn't want to, but because he was completely incapable of attending what we planned. More than once. 

I've learned to temper my emotions around most of these experiences most of the time, but there are days when I swing from hopeful to absolutely frustrated at the daily conversations, concerns, and consequences on me and my family. My family is hesitant to be involved at all. I mean who really wants to deal with a person who leans to total selfishness, inability to see, and the attending results of regular alcohol abuse. 

THE phone call came. The emergency call we hadn't had since he moved here. He called me with severe physical symptoms that were unmanageable and life threatening. In spite of that fact, he also called when I was in a position that I absolutely could not respond and rescue him. We discussed his options, including calling an ambulance. I told him I would come as soon as I could. Then I called him back to tell him I thought he really should call the ambulance. He already had. I'm leaving the worst of the details out, but anyone who has dealt with a family member involved with drugs and alcohol, can easily insert them.

From this point, I'll fast forward to my moment of angry inspiration. He spent a week in the hospital and somehow avoided also getting THE VIRUS. It took two days to convince him to go to any further therapy, but he ended up with two weeks in a short term care center to gain his strength back so he could walk and take care of himself again. I cannot begin to express my gratitude to the health care workers that attended him. Doctors who were as blunt and honest as was absolutely needed. Nurses who were overburdened because of our hospital patient load. And social workers and case managers willing to give every bit of information and services to support and save his life. 

In the meantime, his apartment told me there was going to be an inspection and I'm just telling you, there was no way it would pass. I had a sweet little niece visiting and she went over with me and did some scrubbing. I gathered up his laundry and bedding and washed it all. We cleared a pathway that would be less dangerous than how he was living and made sure the doorways were all clear. Then I just waited for him to come home, which he did. 

Three weeks of close to total bliss while he was quietly (for me) in the hospital and care center getting better. I just had to visit and coordinate and he's always nicer when he's "down." And then he went home and that's when the real fun began. Every day he became stronger and every day he was more back to himself, only I think now he is not all the way back. Each time in the hospital takes another little piece of him. But I digress.

After a week or so, and increasingly more frustrating interactions, I went to do his shopping one night. He had a specific short list that included two newspapers. Even though he hates everything and everyone in the government and knows all the news is fake, he has to read it every day anyway. I brought his groceries in and put them all away and while he was in the other room, he called, "did you get my newspapers?" As impending doom settled on me, I meekly replied, "no." I can't repeat his response, but I was immediately hot under the collar. I stormed out, slammed the door, and drove to Walgreens, counted out all my change because I didn't have any cash and didn't want to put it on my card, drove back, opened the door, slapped them down on the table, slammed the door again and drove off. He called four times and I ignored them all.

What happened next was my breakthrough. As I fumed toward home I kept thinking. "WHY DOES HE HAVE TO ACT LIKE SUCH A TODDLER? WHY IS HE CONSTANTLY THROWING TANTRUMS?" I should know better than to ask questions I don't want answers to. I heard a question in my mind. "Why DOES he throw temper tantrums like a toddler?" My brain said, "well toddlers usually throw tantrums when they are tired or don't have any explanation for the frustration they are feeling; when they don't understand." I was still angry, but a little light started flowing in. "Oooooooh." Only a couple of days before, he shared with me that this six weeks is the only time in his adult life he has gone that long without a drink!

Besides being shocked at the confession, I was astonished that I never knew as a child! I knew there was always beer, but I don't have a single memory of what I would have thought drunkenness or inebriation looked like. So I began to realize that with his age, and his loss of cognition because of age and addiction, there must be some real frustration going on over his knowing that he cannot go there anymore. There's an equal amount of frustration on my part that I've never had a dad fully present in my life. 

I plunged back into anger. WHY? Why do *I* have to be the one to take care of him and care and be frustrated and dealing with him. W.H.Y????? The memory of a prayer prayed many years ago, was brought back to my mind. When I realized in my young mom adult years that there wasn't much I could do to help my dad if he didn't want to be helped, with a host of other issues, that I now realize were probably the same problem, I told my Father in Heaven that I was turning him over to Him and He would just have to deal with Him, but to please let me know if there was anything I could do to help and I WOULD DO IT!

The next stunning ray of Light opened to thoughts I had never considered. "You GET to do the dirty work." I can't remember ever having thought that dealing with my dad was dirty work. So, I was a little perplexed until right after the question, the next thought was, "just like the Savior. Christ did the dirty work." And then a flood of examples.

Working the dirt.

The hands of a carpenter.

Writing in the dirt.

Mud on the eyes of the blind.

Washing the feet of His friends.

Befriending the unclean. 

The insane.

The adulteress.

The tax collector.

The harlot.

The bleeding woman.

The sinners.

"You get to do the dirty work." And as my resistance faded and I truly saw the invitation, my eyes flooded with tears. My own question formed within me. If I seek to be like Christ (and I do) and I want to obtain His attributes (and I do), how can I expect to do that if I am unwilling to do the dirty work? So many years ago, I could have been looked at by other families as doing the dirty work. I mean I was pretty adorable, so probably not, but....I was someone's project. Multiple someones and I am so grateful. I can't be afraid to get my hands dirty for my dad. I am grateful for the family I have that is willing to do it with me. It's uncomfortable, but I see how it is also an invitation. 

I know absolutely that I will continue to stumble, and get frustrated, and wish I wasn't the one to do it. But I am fully committed now, to look for those who others might identify as not worth the work. It's the only way those have a chance at all to fully experience what is available to them in this life. I continue to hope, until there is no more, that my efforts will make a difference. It has been the hope of my life since I was sixteen. I will continue because I GET to do the dirty work. I feel so blessed. 

 

All is Well

IAT = I am thankful

Years ago, I was introduced to Byron Katie's book, Loving What Is and The Work. It was mind and soul expanding. I'd heard over and over that I had control over my thoughts and emotions, and knew at some level that was true...but.

The Work taught me how to question my thoughts and that I could question every single one of them. AND it gave me a framework for doing that; flipping them around, and seeing the real truth within myself. I still often do the turnaround without the questions because that's where the great stuff is. What *I* am really thinking which allows me to change it.

I ask myself, Is that true? How can I know that is true? How do I react when I believe that thought? Who would I be without that thought? In the questioning and the new thinking, is freedom.

Somewhere in learning about Loving What Is, I met Leslie Householder and started diving in to everything she had. Much of what she teaches, came from sources I had already read, and had even done some significant work with mentor and friend Rebecca Fine who taught me to "expect success" and to stay in my own business.

Leslie expanded my previous knowledge and helped me see the mechanisms and solutions to the programs that run me, where they come from, how to change them, how to ask questions and get answers. And how to trust those answers and create a vibrant thriving life. I get to decide what that looks like.

Last year, my friend Caroline Skrdla invited me to attend a program called Landmark. Once again, new work, discoveries, and ideas nudged me forward in my understanding of myself and others. I saw miracles you cannot imagine in people's suffering over four days, that I didn't think was possible. A Cambodian woman who became my friend in the months after, of really working to get the ideas implemented into our lives, dropped her victimhood and her story around living and surviving her childhood during the killing fields. A nine year old, abandoned and left to tend her two younger siblings through months of deprivation and starvation, in one weekend, simply walked away from the terror and suffering of her thoughts and experiences.

I learned a little extra piece at Landmark that was and still is hard sometimes for me to accept, but only because I let it be hard. Loving what ISN'T. It's a fine line between loving what is to love what isn't. Example: loving my mother how she is and isn't. How she is? In heaven right now. How she isn't; or maybe wasn't? Not in my life much from the time I was five and gone by her own hand by the time I was nineteen. Not here to be my mom or grandma to my children. (Funny how that can be written in a single sentence and represent SO MUCH emotion and time)!

I know! I hear the question...BUT...you cannot imagine how many buts I've bounced off my sister friend Cari. But, how can you love that your mother wasn't there and that she committed suicide? How can you love those things?

What are my options? Not loving it causes my suffering. And I don't want to suffer. I wrestle with other ideas that bring me suffering until I let go of my firm grip on them and accept. Freedom.

If Victor Frankl could come out of the horrors of the holocaust still reasoning, that he had choice, and there was a space where he could make that choice and choose his attitude in ANY circumstance, what can we do? What can you do? How can we look newly at viruses, and riots, and political parties, and our neighbors and family members and what we THINK about them? Will we do what it takes for freedom? Not the general freedom that I believe most Americans seek after, but the freedom that allows a daughter without a mother, a black woman, a Cambodian girl, a Jewish man, and hundreds and thousands of others, and YOU right now in what you are suffering, to be REALLY free.

See, I have to admit that growing up in the world without a mother, and one who took her life, ISN'T the worst thing that could happen. I don't want to know what the worst thing in the world is. What I DO want to know, is how can I choose today, in the circumstances that I am tempted to suffer in; how can I choose differently? By choosing differently. By thinking differently. There are many other things in my life, I could choose to be a victim over, but my life had a lot of happiness, even with the "bad." It's because of how bad things WERE, that I can appreciate how GOOD things can be and are!

One of my friends who is wrestling her thoughts into new creations, shared an idea with me this morning. Here is how I ended up internalizing what she shared. The "Mormon" pioneers are some of the greatest examples in history that I know of that loved what was and loved what wasn't.

In the words of our revered hymn...(Just one of four amazing verses)

ALL IS WELL (verse 3)

Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard?

'Tis not so; all is right.

Why should we think to earn a great reward

If we now shun the fight?

Gird up your loins; fresh courage take.

Our God will never us forsake;

And soon we’ll have this tale to tell—

All is well! All is well!

Not all WILL BE well, all IS well. They too suffered deprivation, starvation, and suffering at the hands of our own government and mobs with the intention of exterminating them. Yet they sang, ALL IS WELL.

Today, as I awoke, tempted to believe the thoughts that brought me to tears, I chose instead to absolutely know that all is well. As many of us have heard from wise friends and family members over the years, typically grandparents, everything will be all right. The hymn of the early Saints of my faith, improved on that idea that flows through the generations. All is well. I'm standing in the freedom of that thought.

 

Sentimental Old Me

IAT = I am thankful

For my leaning toward sentimentality.

While vacuuming this morning around a chair that used to be my great great aunt's, and thinking of the loss in our community, I had two thoughts. Why am I so sentimental about things? And why do I love LDS funerals? Funny how our brains work sometimes. So, I just let my thoughts go and kept vacuuming.

I find it gut wrenching to rid my life and house of objects that belonged to loved ones. Before this morning, I never questioned why. As my family has encouraged me to clean up, clean out, reduce, minimize, it feels like I am letting THEM go. Currently my husband wants to get rid of the big oak table he made me for Christmas one year, and the big hutch desk that I made the same year. I look at him like he's grown an extra head.

As the vacuum reached under the couch, there was my mother; standing right in the middle of it. It's funny how her tragic end so very long ago, still has silver threads all intertwined in my head and my heart and my life. And my belongings.

The lifetime hopes of a relationship with her were "wrenched" from me when I wasn't paying attention. Trinkets and personal items didn't mean that much to me before then. But somehow, a place within me mistakenly thought that if I held on to a thing that someone owned, somehow I was retaining a part of them. Just recognizing that helps me to know, that's not true. But in my mother's case, not having known her long, I can understand why I might think that. The clinging doesn't change the past.

It's not just objects though, I'm sentimental about a lot of things. Exchanged letters, family recipes, cookies, music from the past. The longing left over from the losing, seems to be all wrapped up in it. Happy memories help transcend the loss.

I'm realizing that the very few memories I have of her, are far more precious that what I own that was once hers. That applies whether it's my mother's belongings, or my grandparents, my aunt, or the hundred little memorable things my children have made or given me that I have squirreled away as boxes of treasure.

Putting my hope in temporal things as worthy as some of that may be, doesn't hold a candle to Who I can put my trust in. Cue the love of funerals. I know it's weird! Maybe not so weird if you've ever been to an LDS funeral. If not, it's a positively confusing, uplifting swirl of emotion. But it nearly always ends with not just tears being dried, but lingering smiles and quiet laughter and fond memories all swirling together with satisfaction than embraces the sorrow.

Hope, and promise, and faith, and trust in the realness of things we cannot now see. Most of my LDS friends haven't accomplished much in the way the world might celebrate, though many of them are talented and accomplished. There is joy in finding out the little pieces of them that are planted in others after they are gone. The quiet, thoughtful, kept in the heart secrets that blessed the lives they touched. I also love hearing the story of their lives contributed by others that were a different experience than we created together.

Like the friend who died who owned dozens of cookbooks because she loved to read them, but she didn't cook. She made long lists of people she intended to bless and worked her way through them. Her life touched hundreds of students. Or the friend who I had no idea how many adventures he had growing up, including dangling his younger relatives out of the bottom of a plane as they skimmed over the desert. And how he'd drop everything to be there for a friend. Or the piano teacher who touched thousands over the years personally and musically. Who suffered many years physically but never complained and always wore a smile on her lips as she inquired about you and encouraged others. Or my friend's grandson today, who isn't remembered for scholastics, or sports, or music necessarily, but the rose left for every girl without a valentine, the helping a stranded stranger with a car in his suit while his date waited, the dancing in the kitchen as a handsome prince with his baby sister and her cousin dressed as princesses.

The celebration of their lives goes deep down in me, touches me, and inspires me to be and do a little better than I am being and doing.

My mother's funeral was not like that. I sat behind a curtain with my other family members who I did not know, at the front of the congregation. There was a disruption by a family member that completely stressed me out. The music was unfamiliar and there was only a little joy in hearing what some of her friends had to say about her. Perhaps it isn't fair because I can't think of a funeral at any church that would be a celebration when there is suicide. I can't think of ever attending an LDS funeral under those circumstances.

Anyway, with the vacuuming over and the funeral of the first of three boys finished, and time to ponder, I marveled at the teenage girl sitting alone among family strangers, with nothing and no one familiar, and a load of grief, regret, and sorrow, contrasted with a large family, larger extended family, hundreds of friends, and hundreds of supportive church and community members and the shared joy and laughter in the celebration of a life cut short far too young. (No, I'm not correcting that runon sentence. At least not now). I left uplifted by the faith and hope and trust in a Father with a great plan of happiness.

It's quite a difference. I love the faith, family, friendship, and fellowship, the shared burden, and the ultimate truths that lift and inspire and hope and trust in a forward time when there will be no more tears or grief or sorrow because of a Savior and His Father with a great plan of happiness that returns us to Him.

Knowing that, and the source of my clinging to things, allows me to consider letting go of the things, and embracing what truly brings joy. Interacting and sharing my life in such a way that when the time comes for my funeral, people will leave drying tears from their eyes, with a softened smile on their lips, a chuckle in their heart, and wanting to be and do a little better than they are being and doing. Maybe their sorrow will be kissed by the satisfaction of a combined story lived through each person I touched. My hope is that they too will look forward with hope to a loving Savior and Father and the plan that brings us all back together and a desire to be and do better.

The Gift My Friend Gave Me that Taught Me More About Jesus Than Anything Else

IAT = I am thankful

I've been wanting to write this post for a couple of months. Life is SO BUSY. I thought Summer was supposed to be a break! Really self-imposed because I've been traveling nearly every weekend. Most of it has been in the state of Az, but I'm having fun packing bags while I put my make up on and then a few days later, unpacking bags while getting ready for the day. I am not unpacked completely from the last trip and SURPRISE, I'm heading off again. I wish all my trips were this, but none of them have been. I love my adventures anyway.

As I sat in sacrament meeting this particular Sunday,I was seeing the Memorial Service of the sacrament. I began praying about my gratitude for all of it. As I prayed the words, "descended below all things" I immediately had a memory come to mind in living color. 

It was October, 1986. I had just received the news of my mother's death. I dropped the phone and was in a heap on the floor, wailing my eyes out. It was the lowest point of my life, and continues to be. My best friend had gone across the street to get my best guy friend. I don't think they were my home teachers. But he brought one of his roommates. 

Terrell or T as we all called him, ran toward our house. Or at least my mind had him running, and when he came through the door, and saw me in a heap of horror and sorrow, he slid himself under me, and lifted me into a sitting position (still on the floor), and began rocking me. He held me and rocked me until my wails became sobs, and I was a little more composed.  When I was finally quiet, Terrell and Jeff, gave me a blessing of comfort. I don't remember anything they said. 

I was surprised at this rerun of events and of course it nearly caused me to weep. Throughout the meeting (topic Last Supper) I kept seeing that scene, and having to make an effort to hold myself together. Tears every time I think of it. I wonder at how my friend T knew exactly what to do. He was an extraordinary person and there was no pause for what might be considered awkward. He acted how his heart led him to, and I was the grateful recipient. 

The scriptures and thoughts that have come to mind following that experience have been a blessing to me. How the Savior succors us, running to us in time of need. How our desperation invites a space for Him in our lives for comfort and healing. How he is a friend to us. How he figuratively and literally, slips below our sorrow, takes us in His arms and tenderly holds us and gives us what we need, blesses us. Takes our griefs and internalizes it and replaces it with peace if we let Him. It never occurred to me before, but I wonder if in those heart wrenching moments, He really does place His hands on our heads and extends a blessing. Or maybe He's wrapped us in His arms like my dear friend did.

Two of the kindest acts in my life happened around this experience. Both of them involved my best friend. One of them, she brought others. 

As sweet as those acts of kindness are, the greatest kindness of all is the Savior descending below ALL. 

Mine, yours, every living person, ALL of it at the same time! The sadness of victims and the depravity of those who victimize. We KNOW this. But, it's a beautiful reminder when the personal is applied. It's always been a very tender memory, but I'll never look at it the same way again. I KNOW that in that moment, GOD knew exactly who I was and what I needed, and He sent others to provide the need. He always does, and when we can open our limited understanding of these kinds of tragic experiences, we can truly see it.

My friend Terrell was diagnosed with Huntington's disease a year later. He struggled with the loss of his physical self until his passing maybe 16 years later. 

It was a joy and blessing to eat lunch with his dear wife on one of my most recent trips and a couple of our other friends from that time period. I shared this story with her and how deeply it touched me.

Some day, I'll get to embrace my Savior and thank Him for the awful price He paid and the help He gave me all my life. There are other special people I look forward to embracing as well. My friend T is one of them. He showed me what a true friend is, and he's still teaching me how to be more like Jesus.

Knowing Vs Understanding, 30 years worth

IAT = I am thankful

Last week we attended our annual Seminary and Institute Training. It's been 30 years of employment with the church. It's an interesting experience to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, and also be employed by it. Actually we are employed by the Office of the President. Last time I checked anyway. So, my learning in both capacities is intertwined. We've had the great blessing of rubbing shoulders with some pretty great people, but the ones that share our employment, well, I wish we could be in one of their wards and stakes. Wait, we have 3 others in our stake. That makes me happy.

We and one other couple were asked to share a few things we wish we had known. I wrote this out and didn't share all of it and may add a little more, but this is what I was thinking as I pondered the question.Instead of sharing what I wish I had known, I'd like to share a few things I wish I'd understood instead. I've learned working with people with their health and wellness that knowledge rarely changes behavior. It's coming to an understanding that has the potential to. 

I remember our introduction to Church Education. We had a five day old baby and we were on the waiting list to be hired and we got an unexpected phone call to come in to Church Headquarters for an interview. We ran in to Elder Packer (my husband debates this, but that's my memory, made up or true, :-) in the elevator. He made a comment about our baby Moses that we were carrying around in a basket. I was scared to death Elder  ??? (the interviewing authority) would ask us if we read our scriptures every day, because we weren't as consistent as we could have been. 

I remember walking into our first area convention in Mesa being the newbies and having this profound respect for the giants we were associating with and I felt so unworthy. So, we're the more mature ones now and I can't say that I feel like a giant, but we have come to love and respect our very human counterparts and the support that they are. And the joy of serving and working together. 

So, keeping it short. 3 or 4 things I wish I understood when we started. I understand now, but wish I understood how knowing WHO I am and WHO'S I am is probably the most essential doctrine to my temporal and spiritual welfare. If I understood that, it would have relieved a lot of emotional suffering over the years. Because when you understand that you are literally a divine Son or Daughter of God, and you truly understand your relationship to Him and how you truly can become like Him, it uncomplicates nearly everything. 

The mommy thing. At some level, I used to resent it that older moms would say, "enjoy it while you can, bigger kids, bigger problems." I did want to just enjoy it but they clearly did not understand the pile of laundry, the never ending meals, and dishes and diapers and runny noses and...and....and..But it's true. I wish I had understood how fleeting those moments were and that the piles of stuff that needed to be done paled in comparison to the need to be truly present in the moments when laughter and joy and silliness reigned. I did take pictures with my heart. A LOT. Because I wanted my mom to see it since she wasn't there, but I would have been even MORE present to those moments, and less concerned about the rest.

Understanding how to rely on your partner. Bret and I are VERY different personalities. It caused issues at first but thankfully he has the gift of patience, at least with me, and a servant's heart and he just let me take my time to grow. He's a home body and an introvert, and I'm a more free spirited extrovert and he supports me in everything I do and I have supported him in everything he does. I never wanted to be that wife who complains about another church meeting, or why he's home so late from bishoping, or EQing, or whatever his current demands are. I've learned the value of the greatest partnership on earth. Oh, and we've never had a fight. Truth. He refuses to fight with me. It's hard to fight alone. :-)

Finally, understanding the loving, merciful nature of the atonement and our Savior and His grace. I used to be so afraid of God as a girl and a younger woman. Maybe that's because I was afraid of my dad at a significant level. I thought I was going to be punished every time I did something wrong. But, when I began looking for the promises to the righteous in the scriptures, I found them everywhere. It gave me hope. We were able several years ago to do the Pioneer Trails trip. And what I took away from it, after Martin's Cove and Rocky Ridge was that it was a miracle that ANY OF THEM survived. It so strengthened my testimony. 

And I feel that way about life in general. There is so much stacked against us and our children and grandchildren in our day. The adversary has an arsenal pointed at us to entice us to fail. Mental, emotional, DNA, generational, physical, just to name a few. It's a miracle that any of us get out alive or unscathed with so much to fight through. But our Heavenly Father is a prepper. Haha. I noticed that in the Book of Mormon one time. He goes ahead of us preparing a way. And if we just keep trying and relying on Him, the way is already there for us to stumble upon and meet our needs and challenges. I love that. 

I have a testimony that He's merciful. He knows all. And thankfully, no one can judge but Him. I know I need to trust Him always. Especially when I am afraid. It's been a great blessing to be a part of this great work on a supportive level, to rub shoulder with each of you, and to continue that work until the time comes that we are finished....

Pictures from out weekend.

The Three P's to Success

IAT = I am thankful every day

I've long considered myself a work in progress. But if you're like me, and maybe you are, maybe you aren't, you consider yourself a work in progress too. So, accepting that I am a work in progress, why is it that I so frequently forget it is the case? I've been given as a gift a stubborn case of tenacity. I love to set a goal or try a thing that invokes some level of terror, and like a stalking kitten intent on a moving ball of string, aim my site at it, and then pounce and try to make it mine. I love the intention, focus, and pouncing with the hope of having the goal in my grasp and wrestling it to completion. I like the rolling around on the floor with it until I really do feel I have captured it and it becomes a pleasant plaything.

As I have moved more into coaching, and have worked to encourage others to attain their goals and dreams for themselves, I find myself often using three particular words. As I have used them with friends, clients, and family, I have really realized the truth of them. Because as much as achieving a goal CAN BE like a kitten; gaze focused, wriggling body, and that pouncing moment where it is captured in its little claws, goals don't always wrap themselves up so neatly.

I've achieved many of my goals. Some are still in progress. But others, attempt after attempt have left me unsuccessful. While I may temporarily sulk, declare it's impossible, and say that I give up and will just forget about it, I know my curiosity will bring me back to chasing the ball of string again, in the hopes that the cosmic kitten tamer, will finally let me catch it and embrace it.

As a side note, we just got two new kittens in the house. :-) Cleo and Kally showed up while I was gone.

What are those three qualities that can serve you if you will consider them? Practice, patience, persistence.

Sometimes we set goals that are easy and sometimes we set goals that stretch us. It's the stretching ones that we gain the most from. We can learn to practice, over and over, with a focused gaze that will help us achieve the thing we are focused on, or we can give up when the easy is over. There may be rare occasions where we realize that "thing" isn't really what we wanted, but if we really want something desperately, it may take practice over and over and over. Olympic athletes aren't made in a day. Healthy bodies aren't recovered in a week. And some goals may take a lifetime. The act of practicing teaches us what works and what doesn't and helps us hone in on the HOW we can achieve our goal.

Patience is a match to practice. As we practice we gain new skills and insights, not just about the goal itself, but often about ourselves and our own character. Adding patience to practice is that wriggling, wiggling part that we wait for the right moment, the inspiration, the right connection before we pounce and bring the task into our grasp. Each goal we set has a particular gestation that we may not know the length. If we give up too soon, we may never know if the seed was about to break through the earth or the tree bloom. It's the patience that allows us to see the planted seeds grow into a bountiful harvest.

Persistence is the part that looks like practice and patience together. It's the capturing of the goal and wrestling it into completion; it's patience and practice in spite of difficulty or opposition. I love the quote by Ralph Waldo Emerson, where he says:

“That which we persist in doing becomes easier, not that the nature of the task has changed, but our ability to do has increased.”

When we give up on our goals, dreams, and desires, we lose the potential ability that we might have gained through persistence. I realize not every goal will be seen to completion, and we get to be the ones to decide whether we can or cannot, whether we want to or not. Persistence may be the deciding factor in whether we do or don't. This has been a favorite poem of mine for years.

Will to Win

If you want a thing bad enough
To go out and fight for it,
Work day and night for it,
Give up your time and your peace and
your sleep for it

If only desire of it
Makes you quite mad enough
Never to tire of it,
Makes you hold all other things tawdry
and cheap for it

If life seems all empty and useless without it
And all that you scheme and you dream is about it,

If gladly you'll sweat for it,
Fret for it, Plan for it,
Lose all your terror of God or man for it,

If you'll simply go after that thing that you want.
With all your capacity,
Strength and sagacity,
Faith, hope and confidence, stern pertinacity,

If neither cold poverty, famished and gaunt,
Nor sickness nor pain
Of body or brain
Can turn you away from the thing that you want,

If dogged and grim you besiege and beset it,
You'll get it! 

Berton Braley

Setting goals, and changing our mental patterns takes time. Some goals and thoughts are easily changed by learning something new or practicing something a few times. The worthwhile work of thinking and doing, is often much more trying, demanding, and challenging. Practice. Use patience. Persist until you succeed. Changing your habits and thinking is some of the hardest work in the world.