Willing to lift

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Priesthood Session of the April 2004 Conference.

This week I was noticing how simply these words from President Hinckley sum up the point of my last post:

We shall go on in this work. There will always be a need. Hunger and want and catastrophes will ever be with us. And there will always be those whose hearts have been touched by the light of the gospel who will be willing to serve and work and lift the needy of the earth.

President Hinckley is always so great at honing in on the essentials, and he does so here. What does the light of the gospel do for us? It touches our own hearts and then inspires us to lift others. It's the first and second commandment in action. I love the simplicity of that: eat the fruit, and then bear fruit by blessing others. I love God's plan!

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A rollicking band of pirates, we

The Christmas decorations are put away, and with them the Christmas gnomes, sadly—but never fear, Clementine still has HER gnomes. She has pink gnomey, Big Big Gnomey—and now, thanks to her sisters, two MORE gnomeys. Junie made a small gnome—at least he seemed like a small gnome until Daisy made Tiny Tiny Gnomey! They are all very cute, but now we have to endure Clementine saying sadly nearly every night, "Where's Tiny Tiny Gnomey??" after she—inevitably—loses him among her blankets!

Here is the tiny gnome in Daisy's hands, for scale. (Daisy just can't help herself. She has to make bigs and tinies of things! It's like a sickness.)

And here is Tiny Gnomey sitting on Big Big Gnomey's nose!

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Speaking of tiny, I made these tiny rolls for sliders on New Years. They were so cute! They were only the size of golf balls or so when I shaped them!

New Year's Day Feast

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Not sure what this is, but some kind of Caw Picnic, I believe.

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Clementine with a ponytail ("my tail," she called it, proudly)

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To Be Fruit

For various reasons, I've been thinking lately about the worth and importance of a soul. Of course I've known since I was young (and I'm so grateful that I have!) that every person has worth as a child of God. But my teenage self had a little bit of a problem with that, since, as it says in The Incredibles, "If everyone is special, no one is." So if everyone is a child of God…how was I, personally, still important? 

For a while I felt like I had special talents or maybe special thoughts that other people didn't have. Or maybe I was less susceptible to certain problems. But the older I got, the more those reasons went away. Turns out there were lots of people more talented than me at…everything. Turns out, I had plenty of problems of my own, even some of the same ones I'd felt superior to other people for not having! I remember one specific instance when I was a young mother, reading the scripture "There hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man" and thinking in some surprise "I really am just like everyone else. All the things I thought I wasn't going to struggle with, I do struggle with." With that realization, again teenage Marilyn's question resurfaced…what makes me special? If God has so many other children to love…why would he need me, specifically? Does he need me? I know I need Him but…what difference does it make if He has me?

In the twenty years since then, the importance of that question has faded for me. Honestly, I don't have much time to think about it anymore! And having children, raising children, has given me a lot more insight into possible answers. But recently as one of my children has been struggling with similar questions, it's made me revisit some of those old thoughts, and this time around I've been reading First Nephi and thinking about fruit.

If the Tree of Life is both Jesus Christ and the Love of God, the the fruit seems to be His love packaged in a form we can digest. What's the point of fruit? What's it for? I've had fruit trees. If the fruit isn't picked from the Tree of Life, it would eventually just fall off and rot! (I know, I know, God's love doesn't rot so the metaphor isn't perfect, but bear with me.) It seems to me that the whole point of fruit is to be eaten. That's certainly true of God's love. It is meant to bless people. It's meant to bring joy. It's meant to be shared. God's love, contained within only Himself, would (I imagine??) be useless. It only becomes fruitful in our lives, as we FEEL it, TASTE it, USE it—as it "sheds itself abroad" in our hearts. Jesus Christ's love for us bore fruit and became real, became operational in our lives, through His fruitful acts of love, especially His supreme act of love, His atonement.

The other (related) purpose of fruit, botanically speaking, is to make seeds. And God's love does that, too. It encourages love in us. It gives us something worth sharing. "We love Him because He first loved us." Because He loves us, we want to share His love with others.

The insight that came to me this time around is that this is what gives us worth: when, like God, we become fruit. Fruit to be "eaten" (?? too weird? ha!) by those around us. We are worthy of love because we're God's children, yes. We are special because He loves us, yes. But we become useful to Him as we become fruits of His love, bringing joy and sweetness and nourishment to others. This is why He gives us talents, it's why He gives us spiritual gifts. It's so we can join Him in His work of bearing love.

When I was younger, I wanted to be really good at something—talented—noticed. I didn't want to be famous, necessarily, but I wanted people to see and admire me for my running, or my piano playing, or my writing, or because I was a Rhodes Scholar [to be clear, I wasn't—just wanted to be], or some other impressive thing. And I don't think all of that impulse was bad! It got me to work really hard and try to excel. I learned to find satisfaction in improving myself even when I wasn't the best one. But my perspective shifted when I chose full-time motherhood and left that chase for "impressiveness" behind me. This isn't news to any of you parents, but children aren't impressed by anything! They don't know or care what your accomplishments are. They just need you to love them (and that simple task will take everything you have).

So why (teenage Marilyn would ask) does God even give us talents? If not to impress people? And if not to make us feel good about ourselves? "To bless others" seemed like kind of a lame answer back then. But I see now that it's the best answer—the only satisfying answer! Impressing people doesn't bring any joy. And being "the best" doesn't bring joy either (partly because most people never are…but even if you win Olympic Gold or become a famous author or whatever you dreamed of…the thrill of accomplishment fades in time). But sharing God's love does bring joy, and the joy lasts! I've felt it so often as I've raised my children. Teaching them is joyful. Talking to them is joyful. Making them happy is joyful. Loving them is joyful! And seeing them love me back is the most joyful of all. 

That brings me back to my first question. What good am I to God? When might I actually bring joy to Him rather than just being one of the many beneficiaries of all He gives us? I think it's when I become fruit—when I become an embodiment of His love. I think he needs me because His love can take new shape through me. Through the combination of gifts, talents, and personality that God gave me, combined with what I choose to do to develop those gifts, I can bless others in ways no one else can. When His love bears fruit in me—and I then share that love with those I love—I am useful to Him! 

I'm not sure I'm explaining this very well. Of course I know God loves me even when I don't do anything, don't deserve anything—I'm His child and He loves me. And I guess, in some way, I'm "special" to Him like my children are all special to me just by existing and being who they are. But that answer didn't satisfy me when I was younger, and this one does. I have gifts so I can share them, and in the sharing of them they become true accomplishments—true contributions—not just ways to feed my ego or impress someone—but things that truly bring more light and love into the world. Not only does Heavenly Father "need me" to help do His work and share His love (not "need me" in the sense that He couldn't do it without me—but in the sense that there would be a real and perceptible loss if I didn't contribute my unique gifts)—but just as Jesus found his ultimate joy and purpose in His sacrifice and gifts for us, so I will find ultimate joy, meaning, and purpose in my sacrifices and gifts for others. It's not what the world would teach. But it's true. 

A few months ago I played the piano for a musical number at a funeral. I didn't know the lady who had died; she was a relative of the friend I was accompanying. She had been an accomplished pianist herself, and also a teacher and mother, and as I listened to the talks about her I found myself wanting to play my very best just to honor her and to comfort her family. I prayed all through the funeral that our music could somehow bring a spirit of comfort and peace and love. And then when it came time to play, it was one of those rare occasions where everything is right. It was transcendent—otherworldly—I don't have words to describe it, but the singing, the music, it all came together and the congregation felt it. My friend and I certainly felt it. Angelic visitors, maybe. People were crying as they talked to us after, thanking us for—whatever had happened. I felt shaky and weak afterwards. I went out and sat in the car and thought, "There are famous artists probably giving concerts today all around the world. Someone is playing with a symphony. Someone is playing in Carnegie Hall. But I'm positive that there was no performance on earth today as powerful as this one, at a little church in a suburb of Salt Lake City, at a funeral for a lady who most people have never heard of. And I got to be part of that. Why?"

I don't know why, but I think it's because that's what it's all about. That's what my gifts are for. That's what I am for. That's how I bear fruit, and that's why God needs me—to "shed His love abroad in the hearts of the children of men" in the ways only I can.

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Stay forever

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Afternoon Session of the April 2004 Conference.

I have remembered this quote from Elder Holland ever since I heard it in 2004:

 “Abide in me” is an understandable and beautiful enough concept in the elegant English of the King James Bible, but “abide” is not a word we use much anymore. So I gained even more appreciation for this admonition from the Lord when I was introduced to the translation of this passage in another language. In Spanish that familiar phrase is rendered “permaneced en mi.” Like the English verb “abide,” permanecer means “to remain, to stay,” but even gringos like me can hear the root cognate there of “permanence.” The sense of this then is “stay—but stay forever.” That is the call of the gospel message to Chileans and everyone else in the world. Come, but come to remain. Come with conviction and endurance. Come permanently, for your sake and the sake of all the generations who must follow you, and we will help each other be strong to the very end.

I love the idea of being "permanently" attached to Jesus Christ. I was thinking this week about the Tree of Life and an article I read somewhere (?) about how trees were a female symbol in ancient cultures, and the "rod" in Lehi's dream could be seen as a sort of umbilical cord that can tie us back to the tree. I like the idea that when we are spiritually born of God, we can dwell within, be tied to, and be nourished by Jesus Christ as surely as an unborn baby dwells within, is tied to, and is nourished by its mother. Elder Holland uses a beautiful tree metaphor too:

For the fruit of the gospel to blossom and bless our lives, we must be firmly attached to Him, the Savior of us all, and to this His Church, which bears His holy name.

Other posts in this series:

"Earthly Debts, Heavenly Debts"—by Rozy 

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'Still walking' is the fundamental requirement

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Saturday Morning Session of the April 2004 Conference.

I really liked two talks this session on enduring challenges. The first was Sister Gayle M. Clegg's "The Finished Story." She tells about a boy in her 6th-grade school class who completed an assignment years later and turned it in to her, and then compares his effort to "finish his story" with all of our efforts to keep going with the tests we face in life. I especially liked this:

With the Lord, nothing is impossible, but we each have to finish our own story. He sends His Spirit, we call out encouragement to each other, but we have to keep writing, keep walking, keep serving and accepting new challenges to the end of our own story. “Still walking” is the fundamental requirement in the journey of life. He wants us to finish well.

Then Elder Eyring's talk went right with that same theme. He has such a good a way of simplifying and clarifying concepts for me, and this time the concept he clarified was "enduring to the end":

So many things beat upon us in a lifetime that simply enduring may seem almost beyond us. That’s what the words in the scripture “Ye must … endure to the end” seemed to mean to me when I first read them. It sounded grim, like sitting still and holding on to the arms of the chair while someone pulled out my tooth.

It can surely seem that way to a family depending on crops when there is no rain. They may wonder, “How long can we hold on?” It can seem that way to a youth faced with resisting the rising flood of filth and temptation. It can seem that way to a young man struggling to get the training he needs for a job to support a wife and family. It can seem that way to a person who can’t find a job or who has lost job after job as businesses close their doors. It can seem that way to a person faced with the erosion of health and physical strength which may come early or late in life for them or for those they love. 

I was reading this and thinking about some of our family's own challenges, "Yes! Exactly! How long can we hold on?" Then he continues:

But the test a loving God has set before us is not to see if we can endure difficulty. It is to see if we can endure it well. We pass the test by showing that we remembered Him and the commandments He gave us. And to endure well is to keep those commandments whatever the opposition, whatever the temptation, and whatever the tumult around us.…

We need strength beyond ourselves to keep the commandments in whatever circumstance life brings to us. For some it may be poverty, but for others it may be prosperity. It may be the ravages of age or the exuberance of youth. The combination of trials and their duration are as varied as are the children of our Heavenly Father. No two are alike. But what is being tested is the same, at all times in our lives and for every person: will we do whatsoever the Lord our God will command us?

I don't know why that seemed so surprising to me, but I think I've never quite considered that the whole thing being tested in this life is just "Will we keep the commandments and choose God?" It's so easy to get hung up on "did I handle this situation right?" or "was there something more I could have done?" or "why didn't I follow that prompting better" or any number of other things. And I guess those are all sort of variations on keeping the commandments…but the way Elder Eyring says it, it seems clear that just trying to follow the commandments, if done persistently, is following the commandments. In other words, continuing to keep trying = enduring to the end. It's not about, necessarily, the outcome of the trials and circumstances we face—whether they last a long time or whether they are painful for us or whether we reacted to them like we should. It's just about whether we keep trying to follow God as we experience them. I like that thought!

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Christmas Day

We managed to stave off the early-risers till 9:00 a.m. this year! Surely a new record. They were up earlier, of course, and not pleased about waiting…but Sebastian had been out on his usual Christmas Run at 3 a.m. and we wanted to let him sleep as long as we could.

Look at the light streaming in the windows! (Seb, when he did get up, was not pleased. "Who opened the blinds! It doesn't even feel like Christmas!" He also managed to darkly imply that if we'd somehow been better people it would have snowed.)

Still, that Christmas Run is always impressive. It was fun for him to run with lots of old friends!

I couldn't sleep once I heard Seb go out, so I got up and went on a little walk myself. Inspired by Seb, I tried to make a Christmas star!😄 Then I got cold and went back to my warm bed.

So finally—after Baked French Toast and Bacon (had to be cooked sequentially rather than simultaneously as we're still down an oven)…

…on to the presents! This long long snake from Seb to Gus. Gus loved it so much and has named it…Chubby. ???

Seb decided, on a whim, to learn to crochet at the beginning of December. Daisy and Junie helped him, and then he made a hat for Clementine's monkey, a cropped short-sleeve sweater for a friend, an ear-warmer for Sam, and this amazing chunky scarf for me—this one was finger-crocheted. I don't even know how to do that!

I mentioned to Seb that someone we know was feeling a little discouraged and sad lately, and Seb immediately said, "Tell him to learn to crochet!"

Fire Engine for Gus, from Junie

At first, Clementine was a little wary of this big gnome Daisy made her…

…but she soon warmed up to him!

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The Birthdays

Malachi, Malachi. How can anyone sum up Malachi? He is a force of nature—and a bastion of principle—whichever principle he has decided to throw his considerable powers of persuasion behind at the moment! When he asked if he could take a speech and debate class a few years ago, I thought "Hmm. The last thing the world needs is a more eloquently argumentative Malachi." But I prayed about it and learned I was wrong. The world did need such a thing!😄 And he's really not argumentative, not always. He's more of a two-edged sword, quick and powerful to the dividing asunder of weak thinking or irrational ideas. He's a clear thinker and a clear speaker. Confident to the point of recklessness, at times, but with a softening dose of self-deprecation. His confident, clever public persona is a little bit of an act, as I suppose it is for most of us. But the person underneath has all the same good qualities and a few more: friendliness, persistence, intelligence, thoughtfulness. The ability to soften conflict and de-escalate a tense situation. A talent for relating to others and noticing their needs.

Malachi always has big plans and big goals, toward which he drives himself hard (too hard, sometimes), and I think he thinks accomplishing those goals will set him apart from "ordinary" someday and justify his self-confidence. But what he doesn't realize is that he's already extraordinary. Seeking those goals is extraordinary. Working at those goals is extraordinary. And those desires for improvement that seem to just be part of his character are going to make him a force for great good in the world—whether he does it on the world stage or in his own quiet sphere. We love him so much!

He turned sixteen in December (having been saying to inquiries about his age since January 1st, "I'll be sixteen this year." It worked, and I thought of him as sixteen all year long, making his birthday a bit anticlimactic!) and, in true Malachi fashion, decided to embark upon "The Twelve Dates of Christmas" as his introduction to dating. I think he managed eight dates in all, which was pretty impressive considering how busy December always is! He planned and prepared and paid for the dates just as one ought to, and I think it was more exhausting than he expected but also a lot of fun. It made a bunch of girls happy too, I think!

Here he is on one of his dates, which made him have to miss his sisters' Nutcracker performance, unfortunately—but perhaps it's for the best, as all he does at the Nutcracker every year is complain about its poor character development and plot structure. :)

Note Ky's tie tied in the Eldridge Knot—his signature knot, you might say. He usually sports it.

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Restoring charity's circular love

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Relief Society Session of the October 2003 Conference.

This session was soooo good! I miss the women's sessions of Conference. I know we can learn from all prophetic counsel (that's why I read the Priesthood Sessions) but it is always so good to hear counsel just for women! I wish we still had more chances for that.

I couldn't pick a favorite talk. Their theme (I also miss themes! I liked it when a session had a theme. Seems like the women did that a lot.) was the story of Mary and Martha, and I liked how Sister Bonnie D. Parkin explored how both of those women loved and served God. I do always feel a little bad for Martha in the story, and relate to her—I think we all do! Sister Parkin said,

Like all of you, I have to choose. We all are trying to choose the good part which cannot be taken from us, to balance the spiritual and the temporal in our lives. Wouldn’t it be easy if we were choosing between visiting teaching or robbing a bank? Instead, our choices are often more subtle. We must choose between many worthy options.

Mary and Martha are you and me; they are every sister in Relief Society. These two loved the Lord and wanted to show that love. On this occasion, it seems to me that Mary expressed her love by hearing His word, while Martha expressed hers by serving Him.

So why did Jesus rebuke (? or at least correct) Martha if she was serving him? I've wondered about that so many times, and Sister Parkin answers it by talking about true charity:

I don’t believe the Lord was saying there are Marthas and there are Marys. Jesus did not dismiss Martha’s concern, but instead redirected her focus by saying choose “that good part.” And what is that? …The one thing that is needful is to choose eternal life. We choose daily. As we seek, listen, and follow the Lord, we are encircled in the arms of His love—a love that is pure.…

The “pure love of Christ” refers not only to our love for the Savior but to His love for each of us.

The story of Mary and Martha also illustrates how the gift of charity can be diminished. Within Martha’s request for assistance was an unspoken but clear judgment: “I am right; she is wrong.”

Do we judge one another? Do we criticize each other for individual choices, thinking we know better, when in fact we rarely understand another’s unique circumstance or individual inspiration? Have we ever said, “She works outside the home.” Or, “Her son didn’t serve a mission.” Or, “She’s too old for a calling.” Or, “She can’t—she’s single.” Such judgments, and so many others like them, rob us of the good part, that pure love of Christ.

We also lose sight of that good part when we compare ourselves to others. Her hair is cuter, my legs are fatter, her children are more talented, or her garden’s more productive—sisters, you know the drill. We just can’t do that. We cannot allow ourselves to feel inadequate by focusing on who we aren’t instead of on who we are! We are all sisters in Relief Society. We simply cannot criticize, gossip, or judge and keep the pure love of Christ. Can’t you hear the Lord’s sweet injunction: “Martha, Martha … ?”

Elder Marvin J. Ashton beautifully observed: “Perhaps the greatest charity comes when we are kind to each other, when we don’t judge or categorize someone else, when we simply give each other the benefit of the doubt or remain quiet. Charity is accepting someone’s differences, weaknesses, and shortcomings; having patience with someone who has let us down; or resisting the impulse to become offended when someone doesn’t handle something the way we might have hoped. Charity is refusing to take advantage of another’s weakness and being willing to forgive someone who has hurt us. Charity is expecting the best of each other.”

In exercising charity, we come to know a sister’s heart. When we know a sister’s heart, we are different. We won’t judge her. We will simply love her. I invite you to not only love each other more but love each other better. As we do this we will come to know with a surety that “charity never faileth.”

As seemed the case with Martha, one of the first things to go when I become cumbered about and troubled is my charitable attitude. Is this true for you?

I’ve learned that the best way to reclaim charity is to uncumber myself and simply love and serve the Lord. How do we do that? We start each day kneeling in prayer to our Father in Heaven, we hear His words through daily scripture study, and we follow the guidance we receive. We put Christ first, restoring charity’s circular love. “We love him, because he first loved us.” This is the reciprocating cycle of charity. Sisters, “charity never faileth.”

If I'm following her train of thought correctly, Sister Parkin is saying that Martha was doing something good, she was serving God through her actions—but she had forgotten why she was doing it, and so she had ceased to feel God's love while doing it. This happens to me all the time, especially when working on some thankless task at home: cooking, cleaning, organizing, managing. I keep doing my duty, but it resent it—or I resent whoever isn't helping me—or I resent that I'm not being appreciated—or whatever. And Sister Parkin is right—it happens when things get hard and stressful and heavy. My charity falters. And that makes everything harder and more stressful and heavier! Jesus didn't want that for Martha and He doesn't want it for me—He wants us to feel His love! That's why we need to choose the "good part"—to choose to feel and receive His love.

I really love the idea of a "circular love." I actually have that "we love him because he first loved us" scripture come to mind quite frequently. I hold onto it in hope when I wonder if my children will ever learn to seek God's love. It comforts me to know that Jesus does love, and keeps loving, all of us—and that His love must inevitably (I hope?) draw us back to Him! I find it so heartening to think that my love (if it's drawn from His love) can do the same—it can draw my children closer to me—and me closer to God—and thus them closer to God as well.

So Sister Parkin's thought about "circular love" makes me feel like we can enter or refresh that cycle at any point. Both sides reinforce each other, like spiritual momentum. If I feel "cumbered about" and resentful, like Martha, I can remember why I'm doing all these things—because I love God. And I love Him because He loves me so well. And if I'm thinking about and focusing on how well He loves me, it makes me want to love Him even more—and it makes me want to serve His children even more—and it makes me not really care whether someone else is doing as much as me, or appreciating me. And when I serve like that—freely, joyfully, willingly—I myself begin to feel God's love and approval even more. It's a positive feedback loop, like breastfeeding or blood clotting. I think that is so joyful!

I can't quote all the other things I liked from this session or it would be too long, but just one more story I loved from President Hinckley's talk which I think goes along with this idea too:

Many of you think you are failures. You feel you cannot do well, that with all of your effort it is not sufficient.

We all feel that way. I feel that way as I speak to you tonight. I long for, I pray for the power and the capacity to lift you, to inspire you, to thank you, to praise you, and to bring a measure of gladness into your hearts.

We all worry about our performance. We all wish we could do better. But unfortunately we do not realize, we do not often see the results that come of what we do.

I remember going to a stake conference in the East many years ago. On the plane coming home, I felt that I had been a total failure. I felt I had not touched anyone for good. I was miserable with a sense of inadequacy.

Then, some years later, I was at another conference in California. At the conclusion of the meeting a man came up to me and said, “You were at a conference a few years ago in such-and-such a place.”

“Yes,” I said, “I was there, and I remember the occasion.”

The man said: “You touched my heart. I came to that meeting out of curiosity. I really had no interest. I was on the verge of leaving the Church. But when it was announced that one of the Twelve Apostles would be there, I decided to go.

“You said something that started me to think. It touched me and stayed with me and stirred me. I decided to alter my course. I turned my life around. I am now living here in California. I have a good job, for which I am grateful. I hope I am a good husband and father. And I am now serving as a counselor in the bishopric of my ward. I am happier than I have ever been at any time in my life.”

I thanked him, and when I left him I said to myself, shaking my head: “You never know. You never know whether you do any good. You never know how much good you do.”

Now, my dear sisters, that is the way with you. You are doing the best you can, and that best results in good to yourself and to others. Do not nag yourself with a sense of failure. Get on your knees and ask for the blessings of the Lord; then stand on your feet and do what you are asked to do. Then leave the matter in the hands of the Lord. You will discover that you have accomplished something beyond price.

President Hinckley, in my opinion, had the perfect mix of gentleness and matter-of-factness. He always had kind, comforting words—given with an air of expectation and no-nonsense that left no room for self-pity. I love it! "Do not nag yourself with a sense of failure"—just "stand on your feet and do what you are asked to do." That's what Jesus wanted Martha to do; what he wants all of us to do. Serve Him. Do it for love of Him. And trust Him to turn the work for our good and our joy in the end.

Other posts in this series:

Choosing the good part—by Rozy

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Juleaften and Lille juleaften

Nobody really likes the name "Christmas Eve Eve" do they? And I somehow disapprove of my girls funnily calling it "Christmas Adam" (tsk tsk). The Danes have a perfect solution: Christmas Eve for the 24th and "Little Christmas Eve" for the 23rd. I always forget to deploy this useful terminology in my everyday interactions but one of these years I'm going to do it!

Anyway, our butterscotch roll party was on Lille Juleaften this year because of the 24th being Sunday. It seems But Yesterday this happened before, but apparently the girls were…this little?? I like it. It's nice to have a buffer day in between the busy-ness of the party and the busy-ness of Christmas. Although, I guess I don't like it enough to do it that way every year, or why don't I?

There was a complication this year: two days before the party, our top oven stopped working! Horrors! It caused me great worry and dismay. Of course, when we called to see if we could get a repairman, there was not a single one in the greater Salt Lake Valley available. I generally make 27 dozen rolls for this party and you can bet I use both ovens! My even greater fear, however, was that the other oven would go out as well (it was an overheating error we were getting, which is always alarming…we discovered it when Seb took a pan of cookies out after the usual 9 minutes and they were COMPLETELY CHARRED BLACK). Of course everyone is already invited, not to mention all those people to whom we've said "Don't wait for an invitation! Just plan on it every year!"

After much thought and prayer I finally decided to just make a triple batch of the dough the night before…let it rise overnight…and start making rolls immediately in the morning (rather than have time for mixing and first rise of all 3 triple batches in the morning as I usually do), hoping to get a big reserve of them out before the party and then just keep up one pan at a time during the party. And we instructed all of our kids to pray mightily for the bottom oven!

Thankfully, this combination of preparation and prayer seemed to work and our party went great! There were a few times there were only 3 or 4 rolls out for people to eat, which is less than I'd like…I always want people to feel like there are plenty and they can eat all they want…but those times never lasted more than about 10 minutes. And the bottom oven performed faithfully from 6 am to 1 pm or so!

I've been realizing just how much I rely on these two ovens for the past several days since then! The good thing is that having no repairmen available forced Sam to do research about the problem online and see that he could probably repair the part himself! He just ordered it in the mail and fixed it this morning…and, so far it's working! Hooray!

I had lots of good helpers in the children this year and I needed them! We estimated we had 120-150 people show up. It is so happy to have so many friends talking, laughing, getting to know each other, or renewing old friendships. Feels like the best part of Christmas.

The pretty sky after the party as we collapsed on the porch swing to rest!

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Out of their bitter struggles they are able to find the sweetness

This post is part of the General Conference Odyssey. This week covers the Sunday Afternoon Session of the October 2003 Conference.

I've been thinking about humility this week. Sam and I were talking to Abe about it a little bit during his weekly call, just remembering times we've felt so frustrated or infuriated about something that's so wrong—and we know it's unfair and wrong—and we can't do anything about it and it just feels so maddening! I don't know if it's worse when that feeling of helplessness comes in interactions with bureaucracy and clearly mortal concerns—where there is no mandate for anything to ever change—or if it's worse when it is in a spiritual sphere where you know things definitely should be better! Both situations are bad. And hard. And frustrating.

I don't actually have any solutions or advice. I'm not very good at remembering Jesus Christ like I should in that kind of circumstance. But I liked what Bishop Richard C. Edgley said about people that navigate unfairness and frustration with humility:

These are the many members I see, admire, and am grateful for. They are not seeking position, prominence, or fame, but each is earning a place in our Father’s kingdom by taking care of the business of everyday living. They are consistently doing the unnoticed, the unspectacular, but humbly and righteously doing the important. Challenges they have, but out of their bitter struggles they are able to find the sweetness that is so often the silent companion to adversity. This picture is duplicated hundreds of times in thousands of wards throughout the world.

…

Many of us live or work in an environment where humility is often misunderstood and considered a weakness. Not many corporations or institutions include humility as a value statement or a desired characteristic of their management. Yet as we learn about the workings of God, the power of a humble and submissive spirit becomes apparent. In the kingdom of God, greatness begins with humility and submissiveness. These companion virtues are the first critical steps to opening the doors to the blessings of God and the power of the priesthood. It matters not who we are or how lofty our credentials appear. Humility and submissiveness to the Lord, coupled with a grateful heart, are our strength and our hope.

Abe seems to find himself running up against challenging and infuriating situations a lot these days. I can tell it's wearing on him, and I don't blame him. I've felt a little worn through with that stuff myself lately. But I do read words like these from Bishop Edgley and feel the truth of them. I still don't know how to have a "grateful heart" in the face of incompetence and stupidity! I don't know how to have a humble and submissive spirit when I feel so completely entitled to my anger at the injustice of it all! But if it was obvious, we wouldn't need God to tell us about it. I sense deep down that "taking care of the business of everyday living," "consistently doing the unnoticed and the unspectacular"—and somehow finding a humble, submissive, grateful heart through it all—is the key to (paradoxically!) gaining the power and strength that we so desperately need from God. 

I hope I will someday learn to display those characteristics especially at these times when it seems most impossible to do!

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Gnomengarten

I have what I would consider a reasonable amount of gnomes. My brother gave me these julenisse, which are gnome-adjacaent, I think.

And I have these guys.

And these.

So that's it! All fairly straightforward. I also have three little Fall gnomes, which I had out for Thanksgiving. And while I had them out…Clementine learned what they were called. (NOMES.) And she started asking for them. And trying to take them with her to bed at night. And jumping up and down and squealing with excitement when she saw them. And saying conversationally every five minutes to everyone she met, " 'member NOMES?" (To which the only accepted answer was "I do remember gnomes.")

When I got out the Christmas gnomes she just lost her little mind! She was asking us to get them down for her all the time, saying in great earnestness (while taking them), "these Mommy's nomes," and then carrying them all over the house. So one day I saw a little soft gnome ornament at Walmart, I thought, "I should get that for Clementine so she will stop taking my gnomes." And I did.

When I gave it to her it was like she had been reunited with a long-lost sister. She hugged it rapturously and said, without prompting, "That TEMentine's Gnomie!"

And just like that…our entire family developed an absolute mania for gnomes. We can't help it! We love them! We exclaim at them when we see them in yards or in stores. We point out "BIG gnomies!" and "Tiny gnomies!" We draw gnomes. We call Santa hats "gnomie hats." We have gnomes on the mind and in the heart. You could probably sell me a rattlesnake if it had a gnome costume on it!

And now when you ask Clementine what her favorite animal is, she says…"NOMES!"

I bought these little gnomes at the same time as her "Gnomie."

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