Freedom

It's Veteran's Day and I am feeling so grateful. I'm beyond thankful for those who have served our country (past and present) to allow me to have the freedom to disagree with those in power, to voice my opinions strongly, and to allow all Americans (even those who disagree with me) to have those same freedoms. For all of the problems we're fighting in our country, the basic premise of government of the people, by the people, and for the people is miraculous and powerful and wonderful.


This is my brother Chad. (Ummm, Chad? You were a baby in this picture. Wow.) Before Chad left for Iraq a few years ago, Josh was in love with GI Joes and all things Army. When Chad left for Iraq, Josh's little heart was torn up. He wanted to love his GI Joes, but he somehow understood the reality of war in a way that I thought he was too young for. He cried and prayed and worried about Chad. We all did. He came back to us, and words can't express our gratitude for his safe return, but there have been so many who haven't come home, who paid the ultimate sacrifice for our freedoms.

America is flawed. Its people are flawed. But the basic premise of liberty and justice for all is not.

Feeling Grateful

It's come back! I'm feeling grateful again! Isn't that lovely?

I'm not sure what's been going on in my head over the last month and a half, only that it hasn't been pretty. It wasn't flowers and sunshine in there, friends. It was more like when you leave chili in the fridge and it gets pushed to the back and you forget it's there and a month later you find it and see that it's growing. Yeah, my thoughts have been like that. Festering. Not lovely. (Actually, month-old broccoli is worse than month-old chili.) (And yes, I have recently cleaned out my fridge. How did you guess?)

So my fridge and my brain are newly cleaned, and it feels good.

Here's the key. (Spiritual stuff alert. Click away if you hate spiritual stuff.)

Saturday I had to run 10 miles. I'm still determined to run my 1000 miles in 2009, but my determination has slipped Big Time. It's just so much harder to run without my running partners. It's so much harder to get up when I don't really like running uphill for the first mile. It's so much harder to run with a brain full of rotting chili. So thank goodness I've had the goal, even if I've been cursing myself for making that goal back in the rosy beginning of the year.

I didn't want to run. I couldn't find all my gear. It was very late in the day and I hate running late in the day. I was mean to one of my children for losing something I needed for the run. Something was blocking me, trying to keep me from that run.

But I did it anyway. I drove down to the Legacy Parkway Trail because I figured I needed the easiest possible route since my brain was in such bad shape (not to mention my sluggish body. Yikes. I have NOT recovered from the marathon.) I listened to music for a while, and then I turned on a talk by Camille Fronk Olson (Spiritual Strength in Challenging Times.) (Yes. I am a nerd who sometimes listens to church talks while I run. Now you know. My cover is blown.)

Long story short...there was something in there that I needed desperately to hear. It taught me a truth about myself and about my relationship to God that I'd forgotten, or perhaps that had never sunk in. The truth? I am an unprofitable servant. That's the human state. Somehow, I'd started feeling that if I worked harder, did more, acted better, was less of a consumer, got out of debt, had more self-control, didn't yell, ate perfectly, lost those last 5 (OK, 10) pounds, got enough sleep, were less selfish, you NAME it, that I would be who I am supposed to be, that I would be good enough. But since somehow I could never get there, I really wasn't good enough.

But there's the kicker...No matter how much I tried or how hard I worked, I'd still be an unprofitable servant. That sounds negative, but it's not. It's so freeing. What it means is that all of us are not good enough on our own, but through the grace of Christ, we are made good enough to do what He needs us to do.

I know. Elementary Christianity. But STILL...I'd yet again missed the practical application somehow. The practical application is that I turn my heart to God and let Him know I'm willing to do what he asks of me (even if it includes moving to a new place and being happy once there), and then trust Him. Find joy in the process. Forget myself and my weaknesses in doing His business.

It's a much happier way to live. I am reminded daily that He is in charge, and that He can help me overcome my weaknesses, when and if he wants me to. Do I wish I were perfect? Oh my, yes. I'm tired of fighting some of these same battles year after year after year.

But I can still be an instrument in His hands, imperfect as I am.

I'll try to remember that more resonantly this week.

A Happy List

So I stole this idea from Rockstar Diaries.

It's like my gratitude posts, but different. No pressure, just the joy of finding

10 things that make me terribly happy

(Forgive me. Unlike Taza, I will not use italics and different sized fonts. I am no longer 23 (as much as I think I should be), so I will act my advanced age and be very proper in my typography.)

1. The trail. Bonneville Shoreline, to be exact (the picture is me on said trail.)
2. Baking in my new convection oven. Hello, delicious cookies
3. David and his mad decorating skills
4. Fresh oatmeal bread with butter
5. My sweet JP Pramberger. Don't know JP? You will. I'll be talking about him later
6. Nephi's Psalm (need a cheat sheet? 2 Nephi 4:16-35)
7. Sunsets
8. Children playing hide and seek on steroids (see yesterday's post)
9. Spontaneous kitchen dance parties
10. Have I mentioned the trail?

The New Hood

Thanks to a lovely (unseasonably lovely) November day, I decided to make David proud (well, really, shock him to the core) by cleaning out the car, so I pulled it out to the driveway and went to work. At one point I looked around and counted 17 kids on the lawns to either side of my house. That didn't include the three that were playing inside my house.

They played some version of hide and seek on steroids until dusk hit.

They were happy.

And that made me happy.

Maybe we're going to make it.

(Kate did cry heartbreakingly at bedtime, worrying about having to move to a new Primary class at church on Sunday. She was put in the wrong age group accidentally, and is devastated about changing again. David said he'd go with her. I think I need to find a playdate for her with someone in her class to make the transition easier.)

Build a Bridge and Get Over It

I cried my river, and I'm working on the bridge to get across that salty mess. It's coming along nicely, thank you very much.

I am really blessed in the friendship department, and I appreciate you all so very much. I've been pushing myself too hard too fast for too long and then two things combined to knock me over, and so while I blame much of my exhaustion and emotion on the move, there were other things that pushed me over the edge.

But...

I'm going to be OK. I'm actually excited for a new beginning. I'm going to be happy about my new life. I may want to whine here and there, and I reserve that right. I am really un-thrilled about having to drive to two different schools, and I hate how far away everything is, and how lame is it that North Salt Lake does not yet have a RECYCLING PROGRAM? There. I whined. But on to the good. My kids enjoy the other kids on the street. Josh likes his junior high better than his old one. My piano? It's so so good. I love my convection oven a super lot. David decorated our bedroom like you wouldn't believe unless I posted a picture. Maybe I'll post a picture tomorrow. And there's more good. There's sure to be more and more and more good, if I look for it.

So here are my catch up pictures of the day. You wouldn't even know I'd had a breakdown if I hadn't gone all public with it. Maybe I should have gone to bed instead of telling the world how miserable I was.

Friday, Oct 23. My piano moved in to my living room. Sigh. It's lovely.
Sat., Oct. 24. I got to see three college friends for a late lunch. My friend Heather was in town presenting at the Music Teacher's Convention, so she stayed with Laurisa, and Cody & I joined them for lunch. I miss the practice room days. Everything was simpler then...
Sun., Oct. 25. I made a nice dinner and set a lovely table and a Viking in pajamas with a hammer came to visit.
Mon., Oct. 26. My sweet Kate was thrilled about her pumpkin. I was thrilled that it was such a gorgeous day. I was not thrilled that I still had two sick kids at home.
Tues., Oct. 27. Remember how lovely and fall-like the last picture was? Welcome winter. Yikes.
Wed., Oct. 28. We carved the pumpkins! It was a glorious night of pumpkin guts and drills.
Thurs., Oct. 29. Breakdown. No pictures.

Fri., Oct. 30. Kate's first concerto recital. She rocked the house! She was fantastic. She played Haydn's Little Concerto Mvt. 2 and was charming and sweet in her ruby slippers swinging back and forth under the bench. I got to accompany her. She was proud. Sophie took video.
Sat., Oct 31. HALLOWEEN! I completed the Dorothy costume at 4:00. JOSH finished the Superman costume for me. He was so amazing. Josh is a stick figure, if you can't figure it out. It looked very cool in the dark.
Sun., Nov. 1. Dinner at Malisa and Daniel's, complete with delicious pork and potatoes and moving around a piano.
As you can see, life is moving on. We're finding our new normal. All will be well. And if it's not, at least I've got great friends to keep me centered.

a little death

That's my picture of the day from the 22nd.

I'm still taking pictures.

But I'm having a hard time being grateful. I try, and I could write a cute little something every day, like the sunsets, the piano, the drawers that have nothing in them in the kitchen. But I don't feel like forcing the smile anymore. I recognize the spoiled-brattiness of it all, but somehow that doesn't make it any easier to find the joy.

Here's what I know.

We were supposed to move to this house. It was designed in the heavens. Why? I don't know. I sincerely, truly, honestly don't know.

But I know God is a loving Father. I know this. I have experienced washes of this love, time after time after time. I absolutely trust Him.

Except when I don't.

Everything still feels broken. Leaving my perfect piece of paradise shattered me more than I knew it would. And I knew it would. I knew there would be a mourning process, that losing everything so beloved and familiar would be like a little death. And yet somehow I thought I'd be strong through it all, that I'd be very very sad, but that I'd be strong.

Instead I am petty. I am angry. I am lost. I am worried. I am tired. I am so very very bone tired.

I thought I knew about endurance. I thought I knew about hanging on to the end. This is much harder. Now I know one of the reasons I was inspired to run that race was to understand that some things are hard for a long long long time. Sometimes the end is way farther away than you want it to be, than you need it to be. And somehow, somewhere the strength comes and you make it just that next step. Just that next block. Just that next mile.

The hard thing is that I see no finish line here. There's only the hope that taking on each hour will bring me closer to whatever joy there will be. And the hope that whatever strength I have is enough. I don't think it's enough. Not right now, anyway.

I keep running (when I can actually get out of bed) to the Shoreline Trail. When I'm on the trail, I feel the hand of God. I remember His work in my life.

And on the Trail, I can believe there will be joy again.

I think I believe it.

I'll work on believing it.

But forgive me if it takes a while to write my gratitude posts. They make me want to puke right now.

If you say it's always darkest before the dawn, I'll smack you.) (Or make you read more of my whining.) (And don't worry. I know it really IS darkest before the dawn.) (And I have already taken responsibility for being a brat, so you don't need to point that out, either. I have been very blessed, and I will be sure to be grateful for all of these blessings at the appropriate time.) (And you could say that moving to a new house doesn't really qualify as a real trial. I will agree with you, and point out that I DO know what real trials are like. This doesn't make me feel better, however.)

I am likely to regret posting this in the morning, as I do most things I do after 1:00 am.

Day 11

Monday, Oct. 19
Kate was still home sick. She found an old lettering book from my scrapbooking days and decided to surprise me with a (belated) birthday card.
"Happy Birthday
It has famliy in it so wach for famliy."
"Happy Birthday
You are tuneing 28. I love you. You are the Best mom ever. I Love your food And Dresrtes. Their very good. I now how to right all are famliy's name's. here it go's David Kerri Josh Sophia Kathryn Ben. I Love my Famliy. And I'm sorry thet I Did not eat that much at Brekcfist.
I (heart) my Famliy
Love,
Kate"

I mean, honestly. How can you not love a girl like that? And also, how can I not love that I'm "tuneing 28"?

Wednesday, Oct. 21
More sickness. Really. Ben got sick late Monday night, so yesterday Kate and Ben were sick (although Kate was acting much better. I mainly kept her home because I really think she may have had a flu of a porcine nature, and I thought the school would appreciate her being home until all symptoms were gone.) Today Kate was better, but Ben's worse. And Josh came home feeling yucky and now has the fever to go along with the yuckiness. Poor guy. (Poor me.) (No, I really mean poor guy. I'm doing OK.)

So today I'm grateful for medicine. My picture of the day just captures a few of the over-the-counter remedies that are getting us through the swine flu (or other virus of like nature.)

Also, I was gifted some of the most amazing cookies today (thanks, Bishop Anderson!) for my birthday. Oh man. I didn't know about Cutler's Cookies. And now I might wish I still didn't know about Cutler's Cookies, because my lack of much running means I'm getting flabbier than I would like. But the chocolate marshmallow and the chocolate mint cookies? They might be worth getting flabby for. Or not. I can't decide.