Wherefore murmur ye because that ye shall receive more of my word?

(Forgive the slight irreverence of this post's title; I was referencing my post about my previous book!)

Well! Amidst six months in Quebec, two weddings and an engagement, three missionaries, and a million other things that make up our real lives, Rachael and I somehow finished our second book! It took us four years this time (I think our last book was three; at this rate we only have a couple more left in us before we become too senile to write) and it included two rather lengthy periods of getting burned out and basically giving up on it altogether. But the beauty of having a co-author is that you can't just wallow in your own discouragement forever, and one or the other of us always eventually said, "Shall we just try a slight rewrite of this part…?" and got us going again.

This book is a Scarlet Pimpernel re-telling, in the same magical "world" as our other book—though it takes place before that one and isn't connected to it. After all this time, both Rachael and I still like it, which is more than I can say for some things I've written!

From our authors' note:

While in our teenage years we watched “The Scarlet Pimpernel” movie on repeat. We memorized every moment, down to the musical entrances and the place where the VHS tape was damaged and made Marguerite say “I would gladly give my life for my husband” an octave below her usual pitch. This, our second book, is a tribute to the magic Percy and Marguerite brought to our lives.

If our previous book celebrated the ways diverse talents can bring strength to relationships, this book is meant as an encouragement to couples who don’t leap straight from marriage to “happily ever after.” It is an attempt to show that the work to truly grow together and flourish amid our differences is a work worth doing.

The amazing bonus to this book, though, is the illustrations! Sam did an amazing cover and six interior pictures for our last book, and they were amazing, but they took a lot of time. So as Rachael and I approached the end of writing this book we did not know if he would be able to do anything at all similar for us. We thought we might even have to figure out our own cover, because Sam has been SO busy and obviously can't spend hours and hours on an unpaid project! 😬

Then somehow, Sam had the miraculous idea of having Daisy and Junie and Goldie (who are becoming quite good artists!) do concept art for the illustrations. We had had the idea nearly from the begining of making the illustrations like Ancien Régime-era French Fashion Plates (we thought it would be cool to go with the French Revolution setting) and Sam said the hardest and most time-consuming part of any illustration is coming up with the poses and composition of the characters. So if the girls could do that part for him, he thought he would be able to finish the illustrations a lot more quickly.

I'm not sure that is actually how it worked out, because he ended up doing thirty illustrations plus the cover and it still DID take him hours and hours. He got really excited about it and just drew like a crazy person for a couple months. It was super fun for me to see a new illustration taking shape practically every other day! And the girls were incredible! They read the book and got excited too, and they had the best ideas for which scenes they wanted to see shown. They would sometimes correct ME on details, they knew the characters so well!

We LOVE how the illustrations and the cover turned out. They are so fun and beautiful and interesting and depict our characters so perfectly. I can't even imagine them being any better, and having half of my family involved in making them was just the most fun thing ever! It makes me want to write another book! (But don't hold your breath, unless you can hold it for five years.)

Here is some more of the concept art for your enjoyment (but you'll have to read the book if you want to see all these in finished form!😄):

So! I'm excited to present this happy collaboration to the world (published on Bastille Day!) and I hope some people will read it and like it! And here. I will give you just one more picture from the book:

If you type "The Flower in the Lock" into Amazon, our book should come up (but who knows for how long; typing "Complementary Magic" into Amazon search now brings up a million books on herbal medicine and witchcraft and not even our other book AT ALL😡😡😡)—and here is the link just in case.

Goodbye, Ky!

I've been to two funerals in the past four days (both for people I had connections to, but knew only slightly) which has given me lots of opportunity to reflect on how we remember or encapsulate a person's life. I think I've said before that I notice more and more how much the talks at funerals say about the person giving the talk. We can't help but understand others in relation to what we are experiencing, and what we currently need to understand. I don't think that's a bad thing, but it's just interesting to think that in spite of all my efforts to act and be a certain way—"who I am" to another person will also depend on the lens that person is looking through.

A few years ago I tried to comfort Malachi over something by referring to what kind of person he's always been. He told me in no uncertain terms (we must remember he was in the throes of the teenage years at the time) that I knew nothing about "who he really was" and that it was outright offensive of me to assume I did. I guess, in a way, what he said was true; it was true in the way that none of us ever know everything about each other, and in the way that none of us even know everything about ourselves.

But in another way, of course, it was utter nonsense. I do know Malachi. I've known him for eternities (though, granted, I can't remember all of that). So today as we prepare to send him off to the other side of the world for two years, I've been thinking about some of the things he loves. (One of the funeral talks I heard was in that format. "Things my dad loved." It was really fun to listen to.)

However, out of respect for Ky's delicate sensibilities, and because he is not, in fact, dead—(yet. But he keeps saying to me, "People die on their missions all the time." Is that a kind thing to say to one's mother??)—I will take pains to remind you that these are merely things I see in Malachi. They may or may not be true. I will leave you, dear reader, to decide.

Ten Things Malachi Loves:

1. Malachi loves tying his tie in a special knot (you might even say his "signature knot"):

2. Malachi loves public speaking. You might think it's just since he's been in Debate, but honestly he's always liked the sound of his own voice (and we've all liked hearing it). The other night we were watching old videos and we saw one of TINY Malachi giving a 4-H Demonstration on "How to Make an Origami Bunny." The way he says "Make sure you fold it precisely!" is the cutest thing in the world. He could command an audience even then!

3. Malachi loves being sweet and squishy. He obviously likes this or he wouldn't have been so good at it for so many years:

5. Malachi loves thinking deeply about things. (Perhaps overthinking them at times, like his mother before him.) He can't really not do this, and it shows in the way he writes and speaks. If you say something glibly or in an ill-considered way, he'll challenge you on it.

6. Malachi loves a good story. In fact he loves a good story SO much that I'd say he has a bit of a dramatic streak (also like his mother before him). He started out, as all author-types do, playing "Orphan" and "Special Child has Special Powers," and progressed over the years to understanding the Story Cycle and the Hero's Journey way better than I do, but sometimes I think his narratives about himself and his life tend to…slight exaggeration. In both directions. He's the confident hero; he's the failing hero. It's what makes him so fun to talk to! Every interaction has a little extra spice.

7. Malachi loves being different. This isn't his ONLY motivation, of course. I'm sure there are ways he, like all of us, wants to fit in. But he isn't satisfied with conventional answers or clichés. He's not going to pick the favorite scripture everyone (or anyone) else has, or give the testimony anyone else gives. He puts himself into everything he does, and so makes everything a little bit his own. (Small example: when I asked him what favorite hymns he wanted to sing at his mission farewell, one of the ones he chose was "We Meet Again as Sisters." Ha! I should have punished him by actually doing it)

8. Malachi loves Utilitarianism, by John Stuart Mill. He loves it so much he included a paragraph about it in his mission farewell talk. (To be fair, the paragraph was about how even though he loves Utilitarianism, Utilitarianism has no power to save or to change lives.)

9. Malachi loves being well-read. It's not just part of #7 above. He doesn't want to be well-read just as a statement. He really wants to know things, to engage with the world of ideas and to join the "great conversation." He reads philosophy books, political books like the Federalist Papers, early detective and sci-fi genres, Jane Austen, and everything in between. (Except Georgette Heyer. No matter how much Daisy urges him, he has stubbornly not yet read any Georgette Heyer.)

10. Malachi loves aiming high. Sometimes I'll try to gently give him an out on something ("Since you've been so busy, it's probably okay if you don't enter BOTH presidential debate and Lincoln-Douglas for this tournament!") but he won't take it. I don't know if that's smart or foolish, but it is certainly admirable! It doesn't really seem to be about impressing people. He just sets himself high challenges and, more often than not, succeeds in meeting them. Even more impressively, "failure" (according to his own standards) doesn't stop him. I think that's one of the most valuable things a person can learn—not to stop at early failure. I love that Malachi is persistent and keeps trying.

And, because I would never insult Malachi by making this list too predicatable, we'll add a #11. Malachi loves the writing arts. I'm not sure how else to phrase this. It's not just writing—though he's already an exceptional writer. But he loves all the umbras and penumbras around that too…lists, journals, notebooks, nice pens, a fancy signature, distinctive stationery, sealing wax. If you are lucky enough to receive a note from Malachi, not only will it be witty, sincere, and well-written, but it will be beautifully presented as well.

Malachi means "My Messenger," and at the time he was sent to me he was indeed MY messenger—that is, God's messenger to me. But now he will officially be God's messenger to everyone else too; to every person he meets, which seems so fitting. Think about it: his mission will allow him to wear ties, write letters, speak in public, think deeply, stand out and be different, aim high, and tell (and hear) good stories. It's hard to think of a situation better suited to use his varied gifts.

Oh, but we will miss him and his gifts right here with us. I do believe President Nelson when he said that the gathering of Israel is the most important work happening on earth right now. I believe in the casting forth of the gospel net…but the act of throwing out the net, so opposite from the gathering-in which is our ultimate goal, is an awfully hard one when my own boy is the net. But I know. I know. We have to let them go forth so that, eventually, all can be safely gathered in. Hasten the day.

I'm not sure I ever wrote about when I was praying about Malachi one night and I heard (I truly thought I heard) a little chuckle and the words, "Oh yes, Malachi. I know Malachi."

Well. I know God does know Him. (Even better than I do.) So I'm excited to see what happens next.

Someone to share her load

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the General Women's Session of the April 2014 Conference.

I remember this conference! It was the first time they let eight-year-olds come to the women's session, and it was a "General Women's Meeting" instead of Relief Society or Young Women. I thought it was a great idea and was sad that Daisy wasn't quite old enough to go with me—"but," I thought, "there will be plenty of time for us to go together in the years ahead." I'm still sad that's not how it worked out. I miss the Women's Session, and the Priesthood Session too, for that matter. And the Saturday Evening Session too, now! *sigh* Actually…now I think of it, did I GO to this session? No, surely not. But my dear friend's mother, Bonnie Oscarson, was in the young women's presidency at this time, so I know I went to one of these!

From the talks, I particularly liked this quote from Sister Oscarson's talk "Oh, How We Need Each Other.":

Mary was a young woman when she was informed of her remarkable mission to be the mother of the Son of God. Initially it must have seemed to be a heavy responsibility to bear alone. It was the Lord Himself who provided Mary with someone to share her load. Through the message of the angel Gabriel, Mary was given the name of a trusted and sympathetic woman to whom she could turn for support—her cousin Elisabeth.

This young maiden and her cousin, who was “well stricken in years,” shared a common bond in their miraculous pregnancies, and I can only imagine how very important the three months they spent together were to both of them as they were able to talk together, empathize with each other, and support one another in their unique callings. What a wonderful model they are of feminine nurturing between generations.

"It was the Lord Himself who provided Mary with someone to share her load." I think that is so beautiful, maybe because I too have been the recipient of such a gift. It's hard to find true friends, close friends, as an adult. And, of course, that's okay. I have actually been surprised at how much "semi-close" friends—people with whom you connect with in some way, but maybe only over a specific thing, or for a specific time period like when you are in a calling together, or mostly on more surface-level topics—can still bless your life. Not everyone has to be a "best friend," and relationships can be valuable (I'm learning) on many levels. I'm sure the Lord could have, and did, provide Mary with lots of good neighbors and relatives who could help her with babies and give her marital advice and lend her cups of cornmeal. BUT! I just love it that He ALSO provided a specific person, a special person, a true friend to lighten and share her load—someone Mary may not have predicted. Someone she may not have even connected with very well before…but someone who knew her, understood her, and could comfort her in this specific circumstance, at this time when she needed support so much.

I don't know where Mary's mother was at this time. Maybe she had died earlier. And how did Mary find and decide to visit Elizabeth? How did she know this relative was the very person she needed? It would be so interesting to know more of that story, but ultimately it doesn't matter because

1. God knew the friendship Mary needed, and

2. He led her to it.

It's meaningful to me because God has done the same for me. I am blessed to have a happy marriage. Because of that, and for all the normal busy reasons we all have, I perhaps haven't worked as hard to seek female friendship as I should have. Maybe, having grown up with all brothers, I haven't known quite how to find it. But God has been so good. He has dropped sisters into my lap right when I need them. Through callings, through proximity, and even through far-off virtual connections, he has ensured I have love and support and comfort through sisterhood. He has let me see His hand working through my friends. These women aren't always in my ward Relief Society, they aren't always my assigned ministering sisters, but they are sisters in the gospel and I know that's just as God intended it. I love Him for wanting us to need each other, and I love Him for leading me to these dear friends I might not have found on my own. "Oh how we need each other!" It is so true!

Family in Quebec

Ever since we got back from Quebec a year and a half ago, I've been working on the family history of a bunch of ancestors from Quebec City. I didn't even know I HAD ancestors from there, and true, they are rather distant cousins, but I have felt more and more close to them and very happy to do their temple work. I found my first name when I went to do initiatory ordinances at the temple and was randomly given the name of a lady who had been born in Quebec. Because I felt that little connection with her, I remembered her name and her birthday, and when I went home, I looked her up, and I was related to her! I was able to request her other ordinances, and while I was doing that, I started looking at records for her siblings and parents, leading me to even more people.

She was the first. Since then, I have "coincidentally" been led to a whole new set of names four times at the temple. Twice I happened to sit next to someone in a session holding a name card of a person from Quebec, and I glanced over and saw the names and then remembered them and looked them up later. And twice I was being a witness for a sealing session and saw a Quebec-based name on the lists the sealer was using. And all of those four names were also relatives and led to finding more relatives. It is almost comical at this point, like anyone on the other side who has the remotest connection to Quebec City (or me) is suddenly jumping out of the woodwork: "Find me! Find me!"

Someone could scoff at these distant connections. I'm sometimes tempted to do so myself. "Well! These aren't really direct line ancestors, after all. And basically everyone is related anyway. Of course you'd run into relatives if you go back far enough. There's nothing so special about that."

But it's not true! I DO run into lots of people who aren't related to me, if I'm just searching around Family Search on my own. And even if I'm not a true great-granddaughter of these people I've found, I AM connected to them. I can feel that I am. I have literally felt other mothers speaking to me across time and space, whispering, "Find my baby!" I've felt their spirits rejoicing with mine in the temple. I've felt their determination as they make the covenants I'm standing proxy for: "We didn't live like this on earth. But we are ready to do it now."

And why did we even go to Quebec in the first place? On one level, we just chose it. It made sense for some reasons (rent was cheaper there than almost anywhere else), though it was not the obvious choice in other ways (the language difference being a big one). But on another level, through prayer and research and discussion and revelation, we were led there as surely as if we'd been pulled there on a string. And I don't know if we even yet know all the reasons!

On top of that, it's really fun for me to do this research. I get to use my French, and I feel like I sometimes spot things no one else might spot because I know what to look for. (Like my ancestor François Boivin showing up on another record as Frank Bevan, or the deux enfants anonymes twins who died before they could even have the ondoiement, the emergency, private baptism for an infant not expected to survive.) I like learning these things. I like feeling useful.

While I was researching some of these Quebec family members, I came upon this guy:

I immediately liked him. He looks so grumpy! He reminds me of some of the people in our church congregation in Quebec. His profession was listed as épicier (grocer) in Quebec City, and there were some pictures of his épicerie:

It looked so much like several stores we knew in Quebec (one very old, the others newer), with the jars of jams and mustards stacked carefully along the wall shelves. And when I looked up where it was, I saw it was on a corner right down the hill from our house in Quebec, a place I had passed many times as I walked down to the St. Roch cathedral where I liked to go to Mass. (And where he also probably went to Mass!) I couldn't believe our paths had crossed so closely (in space, if not in time!).

So, on our trip to Quebec in June, I wanted to find the place. There was one picture of the outside of the building:

and it did look like so many of the buildings in that area, including our house. It obviously wouldn't be a grocery story any more, but I thought for sure I'd still be able to find it. But sadly, when we got to that corner, none of the buildings matched.

It must have been torn down to make room for new construction, which makes sense. Even the J.A. Moisan store we used to love on Rue St. Jean, which boasted of being "the oldest grocery store still operating in North America," has closed now. 😭 But I didn't mind too much. It just feels different being there by accident like I was when we lived here, than being there this time, on purpose, knowing it was the very place that man—my grumpy friend in the picture—had lived and worked.

Also on this trip, we visited the cemetery on L'Île-d'Orléans. We had been there many times. I always thought it was a lovely, peaceful place. But this time I knew I had some ancestors buried there. I just wanted to find their graves, and…I don't know, just stand there again, knowing now of our connection. As I said before, it feels different.

It's a small cemetery, but there are more graves there than you might think when you aren't looking for one in particular. I thought at first I might not be able to find any relatives at all! But there were so many familiar names, and I started recognizing them. Blouin, Hébert, Pouliot, Julien, Leroux, Fortier.  At last we found the one I was looking for, and then there were so many more around it! I felt like I was coming upon old friends!

One thing it made me think about was just how quickly memories are lost. These people didn't live that long ago. Most of them are in the 1800s, with a few in the last half of the 1700s. But already so many of their gravestones are unreadable. The places they lived and worked are all gone, and there aren't even pictures of most of them. Their great-grandchildren likely don't even know their names. How would you ever even find these people's information again, let alone know any facts about them, or least of all know who they really were? The impossibility of that task seems so enormous and final. It is strange to think about.

And yet as we stood there in the graveyard, I felt so hopeful knowing that these people are NOT truly gone and forgotten. Their spirits still exist and have some power to reach toward us. And Heavenly Father knows and loves each one.

As I was writing this I looked up the temple work I've been doing in the past year and a half since we got back from Quebec. And I found out that between me and Sam and the kids, we have done over 300 ordinances for ancestors from Quebec. Now of course many of those are multiple ordinances for the same person. But even if you count six temple ordinances per person (and many didn't need all of those six ordinances done), that is fifty people I've somehow been led to out of nowhere. Fifty people I now feel closer to. Fifty people I, in a small way, love.

As we wandered through the cemetery, Sam had the impression to take a picture of a random gravestone, one of the weathered, lichen-covered ones with an undecipherable name. When we got home he put it into Photoshop and turned up the contrast and we were able to make out enough details to hunt for that name in Family Search. We finally found the right person, and we were so excited to see that I was related to him, and he needed his temple work done. But to our surprise…Sam was related to him too! And now we have a whole new branch of relatives to search for.

Quebec Trip with Daisy

Are you the type of person who likes to watch your favorite movies and read your favorite books again and again? Or are you, like our son Malachi, scornful of such wasted time and prefer to never revisit something you've already done? I am the former. But if you are the latter, feel free to skip right past these pictures of places we've already been and things we've already done!

The gentle tug of the Spirit

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Sunday Afternoon Session of the April 2014 Conference.

This week I loved Elder Boyd K Packer's powerful testimony of Jesus Christ. He spoke like He knew God personally, maybe had even seen Him. Now for sure he has! I also liked Elder L. Tom Perry's talk  about obedience:

An obedient horse which is part of a well-trained team of horses needs little more than a gentle tug from the driver to do exactly what he wants it to do. This gentle tug is equivalent to the still, small voice with which the Lord speaks to us. Out of respect for our agency, it is never a strong, forceful tug.…

So the lesson my grandfather taught me was always to be ready to receive the gentle tug of the Spirit. He taught me that I would always receive such a prompting if I ever veered off course. And I would never be guilty of more serious wrongdoings if I allowed the Spirit to guide me in my decisions.

I have noticed many times that when I'm getting frustrated or angry with my children (or whoever, I guess, but it's usually only my children 😩), there is a moment where I could stop. It's like the moment when you hear your alarm to wake up, and you could wake up, but if you go back to sleep right then you'll think later, "Hey, I never even heard my alarm!" Likewise when I'm really getting overwhelmed or carried away by my anger, there's a moment I know it, and can stop. Sometimes I do stop. I take a breath, lower my voice, close my mouth, or whatever else I can manage. But sometimes I don't stop, and those are the times I feel so regretful or discouraged afterwards. Those are the times I think sadly later, "Parenthood truly does allow us to exercise unrighteous dominion."

I guess it's just comforting to me to know that there (usually? maybe always?) IS that moment so I will HAVE that choice. The Spirit will whisper, "stop now" or "go now," but it will only whisper it, and it's up to me to choose to hear!

I also recently read a quote about "believing blood" somewhere, about how some people are blessed to have an easier time believing, but we should also have compassion for others for whom it doesn't come as easily. This part of Elder Perry's talk reminded me of that:

I recognize that the challenges associated with having faith in Jesus Christ and obedience will be more difficult for some than others. I have had enough years of experience to know that the personalities of horses can be very different and, therefore, some horses can be easier or more difficult to train and that the variety of people is far greater. Each of us is a son or daughter of God, and we have a unique premortal and mortal story. Accordingly, there are very few one-size-fits-all solutions. And so I fully recognize the trial-and-error nature of life and, most importantly, the constant need of the second principle of the gospel, even repentance.

I'm sure this is true. For some reason, the belief that Heavenly Father and Jesus live and love me is almost a natural as breathing to me. I feel I have always known it. But still:

Strong, proactive obedience is anything but weak or passive. It is the means by which we declare our faith in God and qualify ourselves to receive the powers of heaven. Obedience is a choice. It is a choice between our own limited knowledge and power and God’s unlimited wisdom and omnipotence. According to the lesson my grandfather gave to me, it is a choice to sense the spiritual bit in our mouths and follow the driver’s lead.

Anyone can make that choice! And when we miss our moment, when we ignore the Spirit we know we should follow, we can repent and turn back, and choose a better obedience next time. I love knowing that.

It was the load

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Sunday Morning Session of the April 2014 Conference.

How can I even choose which talk to write about this week? Two of them are talks I've already returned to over and over. ("Grateful in Any Circumstance" by Elder Uchtdorf and "Bear Up Their Burdens with Ease" by Elder Bednar.) When I look at them in the gospel library app they are full of my highlights and comments from multiple years. I seem to learn different things from them every time I read them. But, I guess this time I will focus on a few quotes from Elder Bednar.

As I've read his talk over the years, I've often wondered about these questions he tells us to ask ourselves:

“Is the load I am carrying producing the spiritual traction that will enable me to press forward with faith in Christ on the strait and narrow path and avoid getting stuck? Is the load I am carrying creating sufficient spiritual traction so I ultimately can return home to Heavenly Father?”

I've wondered about it because it seems that we largely do not determine our own loads! So what good does it do to ask ourselves if they are creating sufficient traction? Isn't it God who decides the trials and circumstances we must face? But I suppose some of it is what we’ve taken on ourselves—obligations or worries we need not have. Perhaps we could shed those. Or maybe some loads are sin and guilt, which we need not carry—but we do need to carry the load of honorable obligations, like our obligations to take care of our families.

On this reading I thought maybe the emphasis was on the "creating traction" part, though. Even if we don't choose what loads we carry (or we don't fully choose them), maybe we can choose the amount of "traction" they are giving us. I tried to think of ways we might do that. Maybe it means we choose to take on responsibilities and efforts that are spiritually helpful—like accepting callings and taking ministering assignments seriously, and choosing to form families and have children if we can, knowing that kind of "load" will definitely help us progress.

I also like the idea that choosing to love more people, allowing more people into the circle of those we care for and feel responsible for, would be a righteous increase of our individual loads and would surely generate more "traction." In President Monson's talk, he included a quote from President Kimball that I feel like I've been looking for my whole life. I've heard the idea in other talks but I didn't know there was a specific quote from a prophet about it:

We must remember that those mortals we meet in parking lots, offices, elevators, and elsewhere are that portion of mankind God has given us to love and to serve. It will do us little good to speak of the general brotherhood of mankind if we cannot regard those who are all around us as our brothers and sisters.

Once I got to maybe my fourth or fifth baby, I started to glimpse the actual weight of the choice we were making to have more children. I realized how much more we were taking on than a few more years of diapers or a few more years of sleepless nights. And when you think of having stewardship over even more people than your own family, it's easy to get a little gun-shy and start to think, "I can't afford to care about any more people! It's too hard and there's too much potential for heartache!" But it's also clear that "the portion of mankind God has given us to love and serve" can constitute an important part of our individual traction-giving load (the "joyful burden of discipleship" I was just writing about recently)—if we accept it and choose to carry it willingly.

It also seems clear that carrying our load, whatever it is, with Jesus, will instantly give us more traction. Elder Bednar says, 

"In essence, the Savior is beckoning us to rely upon and pull together with Him, even though our best efforts are not equal to and cannot be compared with His. As we trust in and pull our load with Him during the journey of mortality, truly His yoke is easy and His burden is light."

I get a little frustrated with the idea of "share your burden with the Lord!" because it seems so nebulous HOW to do it! Just saying "I hereby cast my burden on the Lord!" doesn't work. But it's also probably simpler than it seems. Maybe we invite Him to share our load by telling Him about it in prayer. And we also do it by making covenants, as Elder Bednar explains here. Maybe sharing our burdens with Jesus also means trusting that already He is there bearing some of the weight, even when we can’t tell for sure because we still feel tired and heavy. I’m sure Jesus is already lightening my load in so many ways, but sometimes I don't appreciate it and thank Him.

Elder Bednar also says this:

As we are yoked with Him through sacred covenants and receive the enabling power of His Atonement in our lives, we increasingly will seek to understand and live according to His will. We also will pray for the strength to learn from, change, or accept our circumstances rather than praying relentlessly for God to change our circumstances according to our will.

That made me think about how we might gain "traction" while carrying our loads by deciding to act deliberately against the “natural man” and to surrender ease and comfort in favor of growth and knowledge. By thanking God for hard things. By trusting Him to turn all things for our good. By specifically asking the Elder Scott-ish questions of "What can I learn from this?" and "Is there more I can learn?" All those choices would lead us to more power through covenants, and therefore increase our ability to progress in becoming like God.

Your power to become

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Priesthood Session of the April 2014 Conference.

This was the priesthood session where President Oaks gave his wonderful talk "The Keys and Authority of the Priesthood" which has become such a fundamental part of how I understand my relationship to God's power and authority. I love that talk. But my quotes for today come from a different speaker, Elder Randall L. Ridd. He talks about the importance of our desires in shaping who we become, which is always a subject that has interested me. Elder Maxwell talked a lot about it. Maybe it was something he said that made me think the main purpose of education is to educate our desires—what we like, what fascinates us, what we wish for—so that we learn to want what God wants.

Elder Ridd brings up an interesting measure of desire:

The Internet also records your desires, expressed in the form of searches and clicks. There are legions waiting to fill those desires. As you surf the Internet, you leave tracks—what you communicate, where you have been, how long you have been there, and the kinds of things that interest you. In this way, the Internet creates a cyber profile for you—in a sense, your “cyber book of life.” As in life, the Internet will give you more and more of what you seek. If your desires are pure, the Internet can magnify them, making it ever easier to engage in worthy pursuits. But the opposite is also true.

Then he says:

My young brothers, if you are not proactive in educating your desires, the world will do it for you. Every day the world seeks to influence your desires, enticing you to buy something, click on something, play something, read or watch something. Ultimately, the choice is yours. You have agency. It is the power to not only act on your desires but also to refine, purify, and elevate your desires. Agency is your power to become. Each choice takes you closer to or further from what you are meant to become; each click has meaning. Always ask yourself, “Where will this choice lead?”

I love the idea that agency is our power to become. The question isn't whether we can change. It is what we will choose to change (or be changed?) into. 

Senior Pictures for Daisy

In April I took graduation photos for my niece who was graduating from BYU, and Daisy came with me as an assistant to help smooth windblown hair and cheer up fussy babies and so forth. (Sweet Parker was never fussy though, bless him.) While we were there I took some pictures of Daisy too, since she'll be a BYU Student herself come September!

"Seasons" ballet

 

You would think everyone would have been all balleted out after "Giselle," but the girls' studio did another show too because none of the youngest classes got to have parts in Giselle! This one was more of a recital format (loosely held together with the theme of "Seasons") and it was fun because the older girls could choose more of what they wanted to do, and Daisy got to do a "Senior Solo" since she is graduating this year! She danced a solo from "La Corsaire" and wore this beautiful costume. It was bittersweet to see her dancing her (probably) last solo! When we tried out ballet classes just for fun during the Pandemic, I never knew she would become such an accomplished dancer in just a few short years. This is a part of her life she'll be sad to leave behind!

Lots of good things that happened in May

We had a happy visit with "our sisters," our missionaries from Quebec, long since home and now one of them is even engaged (thwarting our plans to marry her off to Abe, grrr)

Snatches of life

 

Who are those hooligans running across the road as Sam and I drive off for our date night? And what are they running to? I'll tell you: it's a Lamborghini that was parked by someone's house. We told Teddy and Ziggy we'd seen it and they (and then of course Gus and Clementine too) went running off to see for themselves.

Find some way to trust them

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Afternoon Session of the April 2014 Conference.

Elder Scott's talk in this session was characteristically piercing. It was called "I have given you an example" but I'd summarize it more as being about How to guide and influence those we love (such a needed topic!).

Here are some little bits I liked:

• Both Grandmother Whittle and Jeanene loved me enough to share their conviction that the ordinances of the gospel and serving Father in Heaven would bless my life. Neither of them coerced me or made me feel bad about the person I was. They simply loved me and loved Father in Heaven. Both knew He could do more with my life than I could on my own.

• For so many in the world, the first challenge in accepting the gospel is to develop faith in a Father in Heaven, who loves them perfectly. It is easier to develop that faith when they have friends or family members who love them in a similar way.

• Sometimes we get so wrapped up in things that we find fascinating or become so consumed by mundane responsibilities that we lose sight of God’s objectives. As you consistently focus your life on the most basic principles, you will gain an understanding of what you are to do, and you will produce more fruit for the Lord and more happiness for yourself.

"Consumed by mundane responsibilities" is such an apt summary of my life sometimes, and I'm always worried it will become all there is for me. It's why I'm so anxious to find God and His purposes within the mundane, because those responsibilities aren't going away anytime soon. I think it's possible. But it takes focus and attention, and looking for meaning in small things. I like his advice to focus on basic principles: How is what I'm doing right now part of "bringing to pass the immortality and eternal life of man"? How can I reframe my perspective to make sure I'm doing this thing to serve God's children and not just for temporal reasons?

• Remember, loving them is the powerful foundation for influencing those you want to help.

And this one has been the one I've thought about most:

• As a companion to that love, trust them. In some cases it may seem difficult to trust, but find some way to trust them. The children of Father in Heaven can do amazing things when they feel trusted. Every child of God in mortality chose the Savior’s plan. Trust that given the opportunity, they will do so again.

This is a fascinating concept—the idea of trusting someone's past self (or "real" self, perhaps?) to come through with the right choice in the end. And the thought that the act of trusting can produce miracles…not just trusting God but trusting others. It seems so unjustified sometimes! And I know we aren't supposed to put our faith in imperfect mortals. But I've been pondering how I can trust (in an active way) my children, and show them that I trust them. I love to consider that "given the opportunity" and the right understanding, they will choose the Savior's plan again!!

The joyful burden

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Morning Session of the April 2014 Conference.

Last Sunday a bunch of children got up in sacrament meeting and bore their testimonies. It wasn't coordinated or anything, it just happened to be so, and they all gave such cute little testimonies—not prompted by parents, but just short little sweet convictions: "I know Jesus loves me because he helped me when I broke my arm"—things like that. I knew I was feeling the Spirit during the meeting because I felt such hope and peace about the things I'm usually worrying about; this strong sense of "Everything is going to be okay; God is in charge and He's got everyone in His hands!"

I think that felt particularly good to me because in general, my current stage of life has me constantly feeling the opposite—like everything is complicated and messy and paradoxical and full of struggle. It's not that I don't usually feel like "everything is going to be okay," but it's more like "there is a bunch of stuff I didn't understand about how complex and thorny and stretching it is to walk the path of discipleship and get to the point where everything will be okay."

Two apostles talked about discipleship in this conference session, and you can tell from their talk titles that both of these perspectives are clear to them too: "The Cost—and Blessings—of Discipleship" and "The Joyful Burden of Discipleship." 

In the first talk, Elder Holland says

In addition to teaching, encouraging, and cheering people on (that is the pleasant part of discipleship), from time to time these same messengers are called upon to worry, to warn, and sometimes just to weep (that is the painful part of discipleship).

I am always looking for and hoping for the first part, and I do find it so often—that happy, satisfying feeling of loving and serving and fellowship where you think to yourself, "Ah! The gospel is so good!" And it is. But then at times when I'm weeping and thinking sadly, "Is there a single person in the world who isn't carrying a bunch of heavy burdens very few people know about?"… the other part rings so true too. And Elder Rasband has this reminder:

[Sustaining the prophet and the twelve apostles] is not a mere formality, nor is it reserved for those called to general service. To sustain our leaders is a privilege; it comes coupled with a personal responsibility to share their burden and to be disciples of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Of course Jesus does give us rest from our burdens, but this burden—of aching for other people, of constantly worrying what to do, of being forced to stumble your way through complicated and unpleasant situations hoping to somehow do more good than harm—is not a burden we can lay down. I think I have been looking to lay it down sometimes. Of course I can share it with the Lord and with others! But I shouldn’t be seeking not to have it at all.

The hope comes, I guess, not from somehow closing our eyes and hoping the path will get easier, but from holding to that child-like conviction that "everything will be okay" even as we stumble along not feeling okay. President Eyring, in another talk from this session, talks about finding a way to do both:

I suggest that you take both the short and the long view as you try to give the inheritance of hope to your family. In the short run, there will be troubles and Satan will roar. And there are things to wait for patiently, in faith, knowing that the Lord acts in His own time and in His own way. 

There are things you can do early, when those you love are young. Remember that daily family prayer, family scripture study, and sharing our testimony in sacrament meeting are easier and more effective when children are young. Young children are often more sensitive to the Spirit than we realize.

When they are older, they will remember the hymns they sang with you. Even more than recalling music, they will remember the words of scripture and testimony. The Holy Ghost can bring all things to their remembrance, but the words of scriptures and hymns will last the longest. Those memories will exert a pull that may bring them back when they wander for a time, possibly for years, from the pathway home to eternal life. 

We will need the long view when those we love feel the pull of the world and the cloud of doubt seems to overwhelm their faith. We have faith, hope, and charity to guide us and to strengthen them.

It's easy to feel despair when I think about all the cute testimony-bearing children, "Yes, but what happens in a few years when you forget or reject these sweet little experiences you're having now?" But Elder Eyring promises those things will still be inside them! And Elder Holland also ends on a hopeful note:

[The path of Christian discipleship] is a strait path, and it is a narrow path without a great deal of latitude at some points, but it can be thrillingly and successfully traveled, “with … steadfastness in Christ, … a perfect brightness of hope, and a love of God and of all men.” In courageously pursuing such a course, you will forge unshakable faith, you will find safety against ill winds that blow, even shafts in the whirlwind, and you will feel the rock-like strength of our Redeemer, upon whom if you build your unflagging discipleship, you cannot fall.

I do want to walk the path of discipleship. And I want to do it with optimism and courage even when the cost or the burden is greater than I'd anticipated. If Elder Holland, Elder Rasband, and Elder Eyring can do it, hopefully I can too!