Thursday, November 29, 2012

Just Thinking


I think I will be O.K. with a bald grandson, but oh how I will miss those eyelashes.

photo courtesy of Shadrach photography



Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Mr. Most Important

The youngest son informed me a while ago that my blog posts have gotten a little boring. It seems that all I talk about is the grandson and I never talk about him anymore.

I would like to remind him, that 2nd only to gratitude, he scores the highest number of label links of any topic in my blogdom  (He should just go back and read some of those posts, and I'm sure he does.)

However today, I am writing this post in his honor.

Today I had signed up to volunteer at the Bishop's Storehouse.  For any of you who don't know, a bishop is the local leader of a church congregation (ward) in the LDS church. If a family is in need of food they can go to their bishop and he will assess their need and help them figure out solutions.  One of the things he can do is offer them a food order.  Usually the bishop, or the leader of the ward women's organization (the Relief Society), will help them fill out a form with about 5 columns of basic food and other necessities of life, such as toilet paper, toothpaste and cleaning supplies, included on it.  This form is then taken by a member of the family to the Bishop's Storehouse, which is similar to a small grocery store attached to a large warehouse. Then volunteers there will help the individual select and bag their "groceries, complete with carry out service and a smile, all at no cost to the family.

The Bishop's Storehouse is almost completely manned by volunteers, some who are called to serve a mission to the storehouse and serve there, perhaps one day each week for an extended period of time, and some who come perhaps once a year as an assignment given to their ward. Individuals who receive commodities from the storehouse may also volunteer to give service there so that they can feel like they have done something in return for what they have received.

So, back to the story.  The youngest son heard that I was going to spend sometime at the storehouse and offered to go with me.  This surprised me a little bit, but made me a lot happy.

On the way to the storehouse the youngest son had to continually impress upon me the great sacrifice he was making in accompanying me.  This is his way and I am quite used to it.  I just reinforced how glad I was that he chose to come and that it would be a good experience.

We got there, signed in, donned name tags and had a short orientation.  There were 10 volunteers from our ward and about that many storehouse missionaries, mostly men and women around my age.  As soon as we were done learning how to serve, one of the older missionaries came up to me and asked if he could borrow my strapping young son for a special job and calling him by name took him away. He made a point of telling the son how glad he was that he was there and how grateful they were for his service.

Volunteers at the storehouse not only accompany and assist patrons, but they are also responsible for keeping the shelves stocked and orderly, including the refrigerated sections, and sorting and packaging produce.  There are a lot of jobs to keep a lot of volunteers busy but it seemed like we had more than enough volunteers today and had opportunity to spend some time visiting and getting to know one another better.  After the son had been missing for about an hour he reappeared and returned to my side.  One of the other missionaries, a woman, asked him if he was there by his own free will and choice and I quickly informed her that yes he had volunteered.  He then commented that it was quite a sacrifice too because he had to get up early.  Well, our shift started at 11:30 AM so the the sister kind of raised her eyebrows and then laughed out loud when he added that he got up at 9:30.  She thought it was so funny that she had to go around and share the story with all the other volunteers.  Soon, the youngest son was being commended by all the workers on his willingness to sacrifice and being praised for his efforts and thanked profusely for his service. The male missionary who had first befriended him continued to take a special interest in him, and kept finding him meaningful opportunities to help and as a mother who wants her children to have positive experiences, I was grateful.

When our shift ended and we were leaving, EVERYONE, called him by name and thanked him for coming.  It got to the point where I wondered if perhaps I was invisible or if maybe my name tag was written in invisible ink and I was the only one who could read it, but then I remembered -  I love to serve and I will continue to come to the Bishop's Storehouse regardless, but if this "moment of notoriety" leaves a lasting impression on my son and helps him to have a desire to serve again I will gladly fade into the woodwork and let him be Mr. Most Important.
  
And to top it all off that wonderful, service-oriented son, pulled his name tag off and slapped it on my back so I would feel important too.  That's just the way he is.

I appreciated that he didn't stick it on one of the grocery carts for another volunteer to have to volunteer to remove. Perhaps he learned something today too.

Today I am grateful for

opportunities to serve.

others who give service and make serving an enjoyable experience for everyone involved.

our bishop.  The hubby and I got to meet with him tonight for a few minutes for tithing settlement and I appreciate his faith in me and my family, as well as his leadership and love.


Monday, November 26, 2012

Happily Ever After

One of the living room walls in the oldest daughter's house is decorated with a "fairy tale" theme.  There is a family photo in the top corner and underneath that is a collage frame with some pictures taken outside the Mesa Arizona temple on the daughter and son-in-law's wedding day.  The top right space is filled with a Thomas Kincaid print of Cinderella and her prince standing on a bridge in front of their castle. Beneath the print, in large rub-on letters, is written, "And they lived happily ever after".

I have always liked this wall.  To me it speaks of love and commitment and lots of joy.

When we received word of the grandson's initial cancer diagnosis, for some reason a picture came into my mind of the oldest daughter returning to their home from the hospital, opening the door and being confronted by that wall.

I considered the impact it would have on her.

When she walked into her house and read those words what would she think?

Would she feel that they were a mockery? an unfulfilled wish?  a blatant lie? the end of a dream?

Would they fill her with more pain and sorrow?  My mother's heart broke at the very thought.

When we arrived in California and I took my first look at this wall, I will admit that many of those thoughts passed through my mind.


I can honestly say that I spent some time considering how difficult it would be to remove the writing from the wall before the daughter ever had to read it again.

Then we went to the hospital and I saw the grandson and the daughter and the son-in-law.

I saw the love and the commitment of two struggling, but faithful parents.

I saw the sweet little boy who has brought, and will always bring, a special joy to our family.

I still questioned the "happily ever after" ending to their story, but the urgency to permanently remove those words from their home lessened immensely.  I was willing to let them stay right where they were for the time being.

Each day, as I came down the stairs, or entered the house,  I looked at that wall and each day I tried to make peace with the thoughts the words evoked.

At times they spoke of hope and seemed to hold a promise that there would still be a fairy tale ending to this tale.

At other times they seemed to laugh in my face  and question my grasp on reality,

but more and more I knew that I wouldn't be the one to decide if they stayed or not.

The words would greet my daughter when she returned home.

Their fate would be her decision, not mine.

Today I went to the daughter's blog to see if she had updated and once again saw those words. This time emblazoned across the top of her post - Happily Ever After.  As I read what she had written, and then the talk by Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf that she referred to,  I realized the decision had been made.

The peace came.

The words will stay, right where they have always belonged.

There are times in my life when I feel foolish.

When I realize that my children will teach me much more in my lifetime than I can ever hope to teach them.

When I remember what I already knew, but managed to forget for a short time.

The day the oldest daughter and the son-in-law became a family was not the end of the story, but an exciting and promising chapter in the book. What is taking place in their lives right now is also just another segment of that story, albeit a more heart wrenching and tear jerking section.  And most likely there will be a lot more happy and harrowing, sad and silly, tender and tedious chapters to follow.

Life is meant to be like that and the "happily ever after" ending comes right where it belongs - at the END,

which I wholeheartedly believe is where the next book will begin.

The sequel, filled with "happily ever after" moments and eternal life, the culmination of the trilogy.

"The Father's plan of happiness for His children includes not only a premortal and mortal life but also an eternal life as well, including a great and glorious reunion with those we have lost.  All wrongs will be righted, and we will see with perfect clarity and faultless perspective and understanding."

"From the limited perspective of those who do not have knowledge, understanding or faith in the Father's plan - who look at the world only through the lens of mortality with its wars, violence, disease, and evil - this life can seem depressing, chaotic, unfair, and meaningless.  Church leaders have compared this perspective with someone walking into the middle of a three-act play.  Those without knowledge of the Father's plan do not understand what happened in the first act, or the premortal existence, and the purposes established there; nor do they understand the clarification and resolution that come in the third act, which is the glorious fulfillment of the Father's plan."   Elder Quentin L. Cook, "The Songs They Could Not Sing".

"'And they all lived happily ever after' is never written into the second act.  That line belongs in the third act when the mysteries are solved and everything is put right.Elder Boyd K. Packer.

This mortal life, like any fairy tale, will be filled with its share of happy moments - feasts and balls, love and learning, singing and selfless service, but it will also include adversity, trials and temptations - wicked witches,  poisoned apples, thorns and thistles, debilitating "curses" and even death.

It has to be that way. That's how we learn.

It is all part of a loving author's plan for each of our lives and how we get to our "Happily Ever After" ending.

Grab on to a friend's hand and the Savior's hand and lets go live our story the best we can, so its culmination will bring the ending we are hoping for, the ending which our Heavenly Father has prepared for us - never ending happiness and eternal life.

Today I am thankful for

my knowledge of God's plan of happiness.

a visit to the skin and cancer center.  It is wonderful to, once a year, be praised for and congratulated on my perfect, pale, pasty white skin.

a visiting teaching companion that makes the appointments, prepares the lesson and brings the treat.

the odd junk items I have lying around the house. They entertain the cats and I don't have to waste my money on cat toys.

a daughter, who chose to fulfill her church calling despite her own trials, and learned something that she then decided to share so I could be reminded of something I needed to remember.  Amazing how that all works.





Sunday, November 25, 2012

Heavy, Heavy Hangover

Don't be worried.

This isn't a blog about how I have given in to the stresses of life and decided to take up drinking. This is just a momentary step back into my more carefree childhood.

Tonight the youngest son, the hubby and I were gathered around the dinner table and for some reason (I'm sure it was something someone said, but I can't remember what ) I began to recite a familiar rhyme from the birthday parties of my youth.

Heavy, heavy hangover
thy poor head.
What do you wish this person
with a bump on the head.

The son immediately questioned my sanity and when I looked to the hubby for support or some sign of understanding, he just looked back at me with a totally blank stare.  No help there.

I know I am not the only person who has experienced this tradition in their lifetime.  In fact I'm positive since  I wasn't the only guest at the afore mentioned birthday parties, but apparently this is not the common childhood memory that I thought it to be.

I remember this activity done in two different, but similar ways. At gift opening time someone, usually the special guest's mother, would stand behind the birthday boy or girl, select a present and while holding it over the child's head would repeat the rhyme adding a gentle tap on the head with the gift as the word "bump" was spoken. The recipient would then wish the gift giver, which  up to this point was a mystery, a gift as well.  This was usually something totally out of the realm of possibility such as a million dollars, or a swimming pool or a trip to Africa and then the giver would respond with great enthusiasm, thus identifying him or herself to the birthday child.

My other memory is the same except the rhyme reciter was the gift giver himself and the bump on the head was usually a very energetic thwap!

I explained all of this to the men at the table and they continued to act like I was more than a little bit strange.

Of course, after dinner was over, I had to do a little internet research in an attempt to discover the origins of this tradition and to determine if it was really as rare of a ritual as they seemed to think.

I didn't find too much to report.

I did derive that it may come from an ancient childhood game.  That it was practiced most frequently in small town Utah, by Mormons, and is actually referred to in the book "Mama Married a Mormon", but it has been played as far away as Iran. Also, the poem sometimes differs from the one of my memory to be "heavy, heavy hangs over" or "my forehead".

But, the best insight I found, and the one I enjoyed the most, was discovered on a website from the United Kingdom called the phrase finder.  In a response by Dr. Jones to a question asked by R regarding this topic he stated:

"I believe the custom died out in affluent countries when the size and weight of gifts increased and the custom was found to cause unacceptable collateral damage to the upcoming generation of gift recipients.  It did, however, have a Darwinian purpose in prehistoric times, when clubs and similar weapons were handed out as gifts and the thin skulls of the weakest were crushed whilst the thick headed survived to perpetuate the custom: some of these survivors are with us to this very day."

Apparently the reason so few individuals have memory of playing this game as a child, is that many who participated in this activity failed to reach adulthood unscathed.

Another reason to be grateful that I grew up a thick headed Mormon.

Today I am grateful for

the sacrament. Due to Stake Conferences and staying with the grandson last Sunday it had been almost a month since I had the opportunity to participate in this sacred ordinance and I have missed it.

my ward family. I have felt the love and prayers of the "family I attend church with each Sunday" so strongly during the past couple of weeks and it was great to get to meet with them again today.

ham and cheesy potatoes.

Tuesday, November 20, 2012

Moving Forward

The first 5 days of Shad's chemo are behind him.  He has done amazingly well and to quote one of the nurses, "handled it like a rock star."  He is still eating fairly well, drinking lots and acting like Shad.  We are all very pleased and extremely grateful.  He should now have a 2 week break and then start chemo again.

Today the big news was the possibility of everyone going home on Friday.  This is both exciting and frightening at the same time.  Shad's response to the announcement was, "No thank you. I will just stay here."    I think in some ways that would describe the oldest daughter's feelings as well.

While the hospital is not really where anyone wants to stay forever, it does come with it's perks.  It is a safe, isolated, somewhat predictable enviroment that is stocked with all the necessary supplies and conveniently located to all the doctors, medications and equipment that Shad might have need of.  It comes complete with trained professionals to handle any problems that may arise, consistent food delivery and a competent and entertaining cleaning lady to top it all off. Shad is enjoying the special order menu and almost unlimited movie watching time and the McDonalds in the basement is also a nice addition.

Performance expectations are pretty low for mom and Shad most of the time in the hospital. Mom has been handling her supporting role exceptionally well and has gotten used to the routine of just being the observer, cheerleader and hugger while the doctors and  nurses do their jobs. Going home thrusts mom into the driver's seat as primary caregiver and this job comes with a lot of unknowns and new responsibilities in addition to all of the usual household chores that will still need to be done.  It seems a little overwhelming even before you add in all the trips to the doctor that will be necessary.

CHANGE IS HARD (that's why the grandson has been wearing the same socks for 5 days now), but it's time to be moving forward and forward we will go.

Tomorrow I get to move forward all the way back to Arizona.  Leaving the hospital, ie. Shad and his family, is hard for me too.  Really hard.

Good news though while we are on the topic of moving forward.  We are proud of the son-in-law who found out this week that he passed the test to became an E5.  I'm not totally sure what all this entails, but it is a rank advancement that brings him more responsibility and more money and means he is moving forward in his chosen career.  Way to Go!

Today I am thankful

for a promised visit from Shad's friend Lily tonight.  It got him to do a lot of things he didn't want to do today.  I'm also thankful that he handled the disappointment well when Lily's mom and dad finally arrived, but without Lily. Apparently she got a runny nose and had to stay home.

for Kevin and Casey - I finally got to meet this infamous couple tonight and they are as wonderful as I had heard.  They came bearing gifts, a jar of pickles for Shad and a celebration cake for daddy complete with E (a backwards 3) 5 candles. They brought some needed frivolity and light into our evening and both of the treats were enjoyed immensely.

for insurance that pays for Shad's expensive medication and the equipment he will need to have in order to go home.

that Shad put his brace on and sat in a chair several times today.  Wearing the brace and becoming more mobile is the next big step for him and he was very brave even though it wasn't what he wanted to do.

P.S. While you are keeping your eyes peeled for an ambulance could you look for a moving van too?  They just might need one to get all the stuff home that they are accumulating.

The Long Way to Where We Want to Be

Yesterday the oldest daughter, the youngest son and I took an outing to IKEA where I needed to look for some picture frames for a church project.   Despite the rush hour congestion and about 10 necessary apologies of "Sorry, I'm from out of town" as I cut across 3 lanes of traffic numerous times, we arrived at the store safely.

When we returned to the car for the journey back to the hospital it was beginning to get dark and the traffic was still heavy.  The oldest daughter was pretty sure she knew how to get us back and so we started on our way.

We were following the road signs that directed us to get in a certain lane for the road we wanted, but when we actually got to where we met up with that road, we were not where we needed to be and we ended up going north instead of south.

Despite the son's insistence that we were lost, we weren't too worried.  We knew where we wanted to go and knew how to get there.  We would just travel north, take the next exit, turn back around and head south.

The next exit was quite a ways down the road.  Just as we started to exit we realized that we could only travel east on the road from this ramp.  To go west we should have stayed on the freeway a few more yards.

That was OK.  We would just turn around when we got a chance, head west and get back on the freeway headed south.  We could do this, it would add a couple of minutes to our trip, but we were still fine.

We found a place to turn around and were once again going the right way.  I moved into the left lane to get back on the freeway, feeling pretty good about how things were going, and sailed past the freeway entrance that someone decided should be on the right instead of the left.

Not a big deal.  We could just turn left, take the surface streets back to the "G-named street" and get on the freeway there and that's just what we did.

Once again we were headed in the right direction.  The son put on some calming music (it took a few tries, but we finally agreed on what was calming), the daughter passed me a Lindt chocolate,  I took a deep breath and down the road we went.

Now it was really dark and the traffic was still heavy.  I was a little nervous driving the unfamiliar road but the daughter knew where we were going and we were confident that we would get there,  a little later than expected, but most likely in one piece in spite of the youngest son's views on my driving skills.

A handful and a half of wrong turns, missed exits, one way streets, differing ideas and mis-interpreted road signs later we finally reached our destination.  Our pizza for dinner was cold, our nerves were a little frazzled, but we were where we wanted to be.

This long-winded story perfectly describes my thoughts and feelings about this cancer journey we are on at the moment.

There is a plan.

There is a time table.

We all know where we want to end up and have a pretty good idea how to get there.

However,  sometimes the road is dark, and unfamiliar and even a little scary.

The path is filled with contradictory voices, lots of back seat drivers, detours, one way streets, hard to remember street names and surprising turns.

Sometimes we feel like we are headed in the wrong direction and we probably are.

Some may even insist that all is lost,
but I have faith that eventually we will reach our destination safe and sound.

It just may take a little longer than we would like and I think I'm going to need a whole lot of chocolate.

Today I am thankful that

Shad was able to move from the PICU to the regular pediatric ward. This is a positive sign and a step toward going home, plus his room is a lot bigger and at least one parent gets an actual bed to sleep in.

a by-the-book doctor let her heart be soften by a cute smile and brought Shad a whole take out container full of pickles from the galley for his hospital hamburger.  Whoever thought serving zucchini that resembled pickles and a pickle-less hamburger for lunch today is not a nice person.

At first glance these may look like pickles, but they are NOT pickles!

You'll be happy to know that he ate a few bites of hamburger with all those pickles.  
today's ultra sound technician seemed to know what he was doing and managed to do his job with as little trauma as possible to the grandson.

the youngest son bought pizza for dinner.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Same Old, Same Old

Today while Shad's mom and dad were gone to church one of his doctors came to visit.

She talked (while Shad turned his back and totally ignored her), 
poked and prodded, 
and then told Shad, "tell your mom and dad 'same old, same old'  when they come back."  

Same old, same old is usually considered a little boring and undesirable, but I was happy with our same old, same old day.

No new challenges.

No new complications.

No new diagnoses.

No new traumas.

A lot of juice and milk drinking.

A lot of ipad movies and games.

A lot of temperature taking, arm hugging and pee pee emptying.

A lot of people in a small room trying not to drive each other crazy.

Familiar nurses.

Familiar surroundings.

Familiar crying each time an IV bag is switched out.

Familiar path to and from the hospital.

Same old, same old.  

I'll take it!

Today I am thankful for

the son-in-law.  I don't know very many guys that get excited about hanging out with the in-laws all day every day, but the son-in-law is very patient with our quirky family and puts up with a lot.  Yesterday he announced, "I think we could live on a space ship."  While rather random, I was happy to know that he felt he could live in a confined space with us and survive.  He is a great dad, a wonderful husband, a worthy priesthood holder and I appreciate all he does for my daughter and grandson.  He is amazing.



Shad's sweet little voice singing while we read "Pete the Cat - I Love My White Shoes".  Remember it's ALL GOOD!

E-mails, blog comments, texts, phone calls and prayers from friends and family.  They brighten my day so much.

Saturday, November 17, 2012

A Singing Get Well Card

Today Shad got a get well card from my sister.  This sister is really good at sending awesome cards and  her birthday card for Shad's 2nd birthday was a hit as you can see in this photo.



The card sang the Woody song - "You've got a friend in me" and it sang it's heart out until it died. Since his first singing card made such an obvious impression, he has received a few more cards that sing.

Shad opened the get well card today and let his uncle read part of it to him, but then he needed to hold it in his hand and refused to let anyone else hold it, look at it, or finish reading it.  As he examined it for a while, all of the sudden he announced, "Hey, it doesn't sing!"  He opened it and closed it and opened it and closed it and then looked at me with disappointment.

Well what Grandma can let her sick grandson be disappointed?  As he slowly opened it one more time I sang a truly inspiring, rousing and creative "Get well, little buddy, get well."

He closed it and opened it again, "Get well, little buddy, get well.  Get well, little buddy, get well. Get well." and closed it.

This continued for a while with a variety of renditions of the same words.  Our favorite being the staccato, one syllable at a time, version as he quickly opened and closed the card repeatedly.

Some of my family members may think I have been held hostage in a hospital room for too long and lost what good sense I still had, but I say if I can get a belly laugh and spontaneous giggles, I'll gladly embarrass myself again and again.

That get well card worked wonders and I definitely felt better.

Today I am thankful

that Shad was the only patient in the PICU.  Not only does he get lots of personal attention from the nurses, but that means that there isn't another mother or grandmother sitting next door with her heart in her throat worrying what the day will bring.

for all the people in our lives who think of ways to brighten our days.

that the son-in-law and oldest daughter were able to get out and go shopping for a little while today and that they let the youngest son tag along.  We had a quiet, peaceful afternoon in our cozy little room and I think they enjoyed the outing.


Friday, November 16, 2012

Anyone Have an Ambulance for Sale Cheap?

Tonight the son-in-law and the youngest son were going to go to the store to look for a shirt for Shad to wear under his brace.  Just before they walked out the door they asked, "Does anyone else want to come?'

Shad quickly piped up, "No thank you."

His dad replied, "Good, because I don't think they would let you leave."

"Yeah they would.  You could push me in my bed."

I then stated the obvious, "But your bed wouldn't fit in Mommy's car."

Without pause Shad returned with "It will fit in the ambulance."

Daddy reminded him that we don't have an ambulance, just little cars.

"Oh, you can buy one." was Shad's solution.

Daddy checked his pockets and came up with $3.00.

Does anyone know where we can buy an ambulance for $3.00?  Apparently we need one.

The nurse suggested we try Craigslist.

Today I am thankful for

a cheerful boy.  One of the nurses referred to him today as "a little ray of sunshine"  and he usually is just that.  He does cry and get stressed and scared, but over-all he is still his happy little self.

nice nurses.  Shad is becoming an expert at taking temperatures, listening to heart beats and taping up owies on giraffe and the nurses frequently let him have free rein with their equipment and supplies.  (Next time you worry about where your tax dollars are going, picture them making a sick little boy laugh as he shoots his grandpa across the room with a thermometer cover "bullet".  It might make your sacrifice more palatable.)


a chance for Shad to get outside for the first time in a week, even though the experience was a little overwhelming for all of us.

Thursday, November 15, 2012

Faith

Since Shad went into the hospital and his tumors were discovered a week ago I have been blessed with an overwhelming sense of peace that this is God's plan for him and our family and that all will be well.  That doesn't mean that I know the details of His plan or understand how this part of the story will turn out. I am not really sure  what WELL actually means.  

I am a realist and I know that Shad is a very sick little boy and that he may not get better or that if he does get better he may have some continuing problems for his entire life, but I am also a woman of faith and I know that our loving Heavenly Father has the power and the ability to heal anyone, in any circumstance.  

Sometimes these two sides of me get into an internal battle for power. 

There are times when I have all the faith in the universe that Shad will come through this whole and completely healthy.  There are other times that I realized how naive that idea sounds and then war ensues. 

I have thought fervently and often of the scripture found in Mark 9: 24

"... Lord, I believe; help thou mine unbelief."

On Wednesday I carried my General Conference issue of the Ensign magazine into the surgical waiting room to read while we waited during Shad's surgery.  I opened the cover and began to peruse the titles of the talks.  

Now, I am a very emotional person.  I can cry at the drop of a hat.  I cry when I'm happy.  I cry when I'm sad.  I cry when I feel the spirit. I excel in crying. The waiting room was almost entirely full and I didn't particularly want to cry in front of all those strangers, so I was having a little difficulty choosing a talk. When the title alone made me tear up I decided to move on to the next one.  Finally I reached a talk given in the Sunday Afternoon session by Marcus B Nash. The title was "By Faith all Things Are Fulfilled"  I waited. No tears.  This seemed like the one.  

I loved everything about this talk and I would recommend it to anyone, but there was one paragraph that spoke loudly and clearly to me.

Elder Nash said,

"Bearing in mind that faith and reason are necessary companions, consider the following analogy: faith and reason are like the two wings of an aircraft.  Both are essential to maintain flight.  If, from your perspective, reason seems to contradict faith, pause and remember that our perspective is extremely limited compared to the Lord's.  Do not discard faith any more than you would detach a wing from an aircraft in flight.  Instead, nurture a particle of faith and permit the hope it produces to be an anchor to your soul - and to your reason.  That is why we are commanded to 'seek learning ... by study and also by faith.'  Remember, faith precedes and produces miracles for which we have no immediate explanation within our experience."  

Since I read that paragraph I have found myself frequently visualizing "my plane" when I feel a battle beginning in my head or in my heart.




Are both my wings functioning properly?  

Am I flying straight and strong or am I listing to one side?  

Is one wing getting too large and the other withering away?   

As I analyze my thinking and picture my plane, it seems easier to bring everything back into balance.

In a world where reason reigns supreme, there is room and a need for faith. I am striving to have enough of both.

Today I am thankful 

for modern technology.  It is wonderful to be able to send out a mass e-mail or text and know that my friends and family have been updated without having to call or write each one individually.

that the oldest daughter was able to go to the temple with the youth in her ward tonight.  She deserved a break from the hospital and the temple is a wonderful place to go during a trial.

for extra, extra pickles - and 2 that looked like Mickey Mouse - on the grandson's hamburger.  They made him smile. 


There were a lot more pickles before I took the picture!

Wednesday, November 14, 2012

On a Lighter Note

This evening we were all sitting in Shad's room doing our own thing when one of the hospital chaplains came to visit.

He talked for a few minutes and then asked, "Are you Christians?' and turned to the son-in-law for a response.

The son-in-law slowly replied, "Not ... really", and then went on to say something that I wasn't really listening to.

I was too busy thinking, "Wait, my son-in-law doesn't think we are Christians?  Hadn't he read all the articles on this topic?  Didn't he serve a mission?  Doesn't he listen to General Conference?..."

and then in a matter of seconds I understood what the son-in-law had heard and responded too.

Every doctor's visit, and there are A LOT of them, ends with the question,  "Do you have any questions?"

That is what the son-in-law had heard and "not ,,, really."  He didn't have any questions.

While the chaplain stood, with obvious concern, trying to decipher the son-in-law's response and determine where to go from there, I think I might have burst into laughter.

(I blame it on being cooped up in a hospital all day under a great deal of stress. I have no idea how the oldest daughter and the son-in-law do it so well day in and day out. It felt good to chuckle, so good that I was still laughing about it an hour later much to the son-in-law's consternation.)

We quickly cleared up the misunderstanding, declared that, yes indeed we are Christian, and then appreciated the prayer that the chaplain offered in Shad and his family's behalf.

ALL of the prayers that are being offered, by so many people of so many faiths, are felt and appreciated   by us.  They are what make it possible for us to laugh even in these difficult times

and laughing is good.

Today I am grateful for

laughter.

some of the "best possible news" we could hope for.

the opportunity to be here with Shad and his parents, along with the hubby and the youngest son.

conference talks. So glad that my November Ensign arrived as we were pulling out of the driveway to come to California yesterday.

For an update on Shad and the good news we got today go to the daughter's blog post here.

Breakfast Devotional

While I was eating breakfast this morning and trying to be distracted from thinking about the fact that the last time I ate oatmeal and pears in a polka dot bowl I was sharing it with Shad, I decided to read Emily Freeman's entry on her Daily Closer to Christ blog.

I was glad I did, but it is hard to eat, cry and feel overwhelming love from my Savior all at the same time.

I'm pretty sure this post was written specifically for me and I am grateful.

P.S. I am adding Kaitlyn and her family to my prayer list today and hope you will too.

This morning I am grateful for

moments when I know my Heavenly Father is aware of what I am going through and that He loves me personally.

memories.

light traffic on the 8 so we still got to the hospital before Shad went to surgery, even though I took some extra time eating breakfast.

Tuesday, November 13, 2012

A Happy Hmm...

On our way to California today we kept passing the same semi with this loaded on the back.


Every single time I saw it, it made me smile
and smiling felt good.
I'm sure you can figure out what it looks like.
I wonder what it really is?

P.S. The youngest son thinks I'm weird.

Monday, November 12, 2012

Shadrach and the Fiery Furnace

The past few days have been very difficult for our family, especially for the oldest daughter, the son-in-law and the grandson.  The three year old "light of my life" is seriously ill.  For more on what he is going through you can go to my daughter's recent blog post.

My grandson's name is Shadrach.  His name comes from one of my favorite Old Testament stories found in the book of Daniel - chapter 3. The other day as my thoughts were drawn to him and his parents I felt inspired to re-read this scripture story. Here's a synopsis of it with a little background information.

About 600 years before Jesus Christ was born, King Nebuchadnezzar of Babylon besieged Jerusalem and took captive many of Israel's finest citizens. Among those deported to Babylon were four young men from the tribe of Judah: Daniel, Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah.
In captivity the youths were given new names. Daniel was called Belteshazzar, Hananiah was called Shadrach, Mishael was called Meshach, and Azariah was called Abed-nego.
These four Hebrews excelled in wisdom and knowledge and found favor in King Nebuchadnezzar's eyes. The king put them into service among his most trusted wise men and counselors. When Daniel proved to be the only man capable of interpreting one of Nebuchadnezzar's troubling dreams, the king placed him in a high position over the whole province of Babylon, including all of the wise men of the land. And at Daniel's request, the king appointed Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego as administrators under Daniel.
As was common at the time, King Nebuchadnezzar built a huge golden image and commanded all the people to fall down and worship it whenever they heard the sound of his musical herald. Anyone who failed to bow and worship the image would be thrown into an immense, blazing furnace.
Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were determined to worship the one true God only, and thus were reported to the king. Courageously they stood before him as the king pressured the men to deny their God.
Shadrach, Meshach and Abed-nego, answered and said to the king, O Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter. If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of thine hand, O king.  But if not, be it known unto thee, O king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up.  (Daniel 3:14-16 KJV)
Furious with pride and rage, Nebuchadnezzar ordered the furnace to be heated seven times hotter than normal. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego were bound and cast into the flames. The fiery blast was so hot it killed the soldiers who had escorted them.
But as King Nebuchadnezzar peered into the furnace, he marveled at what he saw: "Lo, I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire, and they have no hurt; and the appearance of the fourth is like the Son of God." (Daniel 3:25 KJV)
Then the king called the men to come out of the furnace. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego emerged unharmed, with not even a hair on their heads singed or the smell of smoke on their clothing.

I have always loved the imagery of this story - 3 faithful servants being accompanied and protected by the Son of God during their time in the fiery furnace. It is such an amazing picture and as I read from my scriptures, another beautiful picture appeared in my mind.  My grandson was on his hospital bed with his mom and dad on either side of him, their arms around his shoulders, and there standing behind them, embracing them all was the Savior.  I fervently wish I were an artist and could draw that marvelous scene that I beheld.   

When Shadrach, Meshach, and Abed-nego courageously took their stand before Nebuchadnezzar, they didn't know with certainty that God would deliver them. They had no assurance they would survive the flames. But they stood firm anyway. 

And now, my daughter and son-in-law embrace their brave little man in their furnace of affliction and stand firm also, putting their trust in our Heavenly Father's love and his plan for their family. Their faith in their Savior, Jesus Christ, is strong and He will support them in their time of need.  

We do not know what the future holds for our family.  We know that the God we serve is able to deliver Shadrach from this burning, fiery furnace and we have faith and hope that he will,  but if not, we join with other faithful servants in whatever age, in vowing to worship the one true God, regardless of the outcome.  

It's the only way.  

Today I am grateful for 

the faith, love and prayers of family and friends. 

my testimony. 

modern medicine.