What's messy?
Life is messy.
What's messier than life?
Life with kids.
What's messier than that?
Life with artistic kids.
Super.
Duper.
Mess-mania.
Monday, October 23, 2017
Sunday, October 22, 2017
Questions
I have been struggling with questions.
Lots of questions. Grundles and truckloads of them. Things that had never bothered me before, festering and confusing. Mostly centering around my eternal identity as a woman, and the veiled nature of my Heavenly Mother.
I am an LDS woman, and we believe that as a counterpart to our Father in Heaven, we have a Divine Mother. She was Mother to our Savior before Mary. She is Mother to us all. So, while all of the visible Priesthood responsibility in mortality falls to the men, giving the church the aspect of Ultimate Patriarchy, the eternal reality of our existence must be something different. It has to be.
If the organization of the family here on earth is a type and a shadow of Family in Heaven... well. Just think! What must our Mother be?!
But here is where I get confused, women need each other. In so many ways we need each other in a way that men do not need each other. We need the support of other women, and we need to watch older women and see how things are done. When it comes to being a mother, ourselves, having an example of what to do and how is so very vital.
Any woman who has ever attempted breastfeeding, can I get an amen?
It makes no sense then, that we have all the appearance of having been ditched, here on earth, by the one source of strength that we need the most.
Really? What gives?
Right. I know. You don't have the answer.
I had been studying, and studying it out. Praying and pondering. During my personal prayers the week before last, I felt very strongly that I needed to go and speak to my Bishop.
"Really," I thought? "What can he possibly tell me that I haven't already found?"
Took me a week call and make the appointment, but then last Tuesday finally rolled around, and I went in and talked the man's ear off. Two hours of download. Poor guy.
The next morning he dropped two books off at my door and texted me to let me know they were there. He also informed me that he felt that my questions were inspired questions from Heavenly Father, that He wanted me to search and ponder for answers. For some reason, I had simply assumed that the questions were from my faithless and restless brain.
Well. Changes everything!
One of the books he lent me is Patricia T. Holland's "A Quiet Heart." Not yet done with it, but I see that this is a book that I need a copy of my own. This is exactly the book I needed, and I see that I am only just scraping the surface of this. I also see that this book is gonna make a superior gift for every LDS woman I know.
Funny... the book itself is a pretty little journal thing with a photo of a white rose on the cover and roses printed on the side of each page like some sort of nicey-nice bit of fluff. I will admit to some skepticism as I flipped through it and saw that it came complete with a cream colored ribbon attached to mark your place.
Y'all. This is no nicey-nice fluff. It addresses my more serious questions head on, and I am adoring this woman, this wife of an Apostle of Christ.
Today when Dadguy walked past the table where I was sitting and reading, I told him that I was going to need my own copy of this book for highlighting and writing in the margins. He seemed surprised, did I mention that the thing looks like an overly flowery book of cheesy poetry? I told him that Sister Holland was directly speaking so many of my concerns.
Birdie was standing nearby, listening like a hawk. I'm not 100% sure what all of this means to her, but I hope at least she will learn that God has room for the honest questions of a seeker. I hope she will understand that the concerns of a daughter matter.
"Wow, really?" says Dadguy, "should I read it too, then?"
"Well," I reply, "it's written specifically for women, but yeah.... you should totally read it."
"Whatever," scoffs Dadguy, "I've read Twilight, you know!"
Bwahahahaaaaa! That's my guy. My sweet, sweet Dadguy!
Lots of questions. Grundles and truckloads of them. Things that had never bothered me before, festering and confusing. Mostly centering around my eternal identity as a woman, and the veiled nature of my Heavenly Mother.
I am an LDS woman, and we believe that as a counterpart to our Father in Heaven, we have a Divine Mother. She was Mother to our Savior before Mary. She is Mother to us all. So, while all of the visible Priesthood responsibility in mortality falls to the men, giving the church the aspect of Ultimate Patriarchy, the eternal reality of our existence must be something different. It has to be.
If the organization of the family here on earth is a type and a shadow of Family in Heaven... well. Just think! What must our Mother be?!
But here is where I get confused, women need each other. In so many ways we need each other in a way that men do not need each other. We need the support of other women, and we need to watch older women and see how things are done. When it comes to being a mother, ourselves, having an example of what to do and how is so very vital.
Any woman who has ever attempted breastfeeding, can I get an amen?
It makes no sense then, that we have all the appearance of having been ditched, here on earth, by the one source of strength that we need the most.
Really? What gives?
Right. I know. You don't have the answer.
I had been studying, and studying it out. Praying and pondering. During my personal prayers the week before last, I felt very strongly that I needed to go and speak to my Bishop.
"Really," I thought? "What can he possibly tell me that I haven't already found?"
Took me a week call and make the appointment, but then last Tuesday finally rolled around, and I went in and talked the man's ear off. Two hours of download. Poor guy.
The next morning he dropped two books off at my door and texted me to let me know they were there. He also informed me that he felt that my questions were inspired questions from Heavenly Father, that He wanted me to search and ponder for answers. For some reason, I had simply assumed that the questions were from my faithless and restless brain.
Well. Changes everything!
One of the books he lent me is Patricia T. Holland's "A Quiet Heart." Not yet done with it, but I see that this is a book that I need a copy of my own. This is exactly the book I needed, and I see that I am only just scraping the surface of this. I also see that this book is gonna make a superior gift for every LDS woman I know.
Funny... the book itself is a pretty little journal thing with a photo of a white rose on the cover and roses printed on the side of each page like some sort of nicey-nice bit of fluff. I will admit to some skepticism as I flipped through it and saw that it came complete with a cream colored ribbon attached to mark your place.
Y'all. This is no nicey-nice fluff. It addresses my more serious questions head on, and I am adoring this woman, this wife of an Apostle of Christ.
Today when Dadguy walked past the table where I was sitting and reading, I told him that I was going to need my own copy of this book for highlighting and writing in the margins. He seemed surprised, did I mention that the thing looks like an overly flowery book of cheesy poetry? I told him that Sister Holland was directly speaking so many of my concerns.
Birdie was standing nearby, listening like a hawk. I'm not 100% sure what all of this means to her, but I hope at least she will learn that God has room for the honest questions of a seeker. I hope she will understand that the concerns of a daughter matter.
"Wow, really?" says Dadguy, "should I read it too, then?"
"Well," I reply, "it's written specifically for women, but yeah.... you should totally read it."
"Whatever," scoffs Dadguy, "I've read Twilight, you know!"
Bwahahahaaaaa! That's my guy. My sweet, sweet Dadguy!
Friday, October 20, 2017
You Do You
Last night I was chatting with a group of women from my neighborhood. We are Utah-Mormon women, so that means we are also all in the same church group. It came up that a newly "empty-nester" couple had sold their home and were in the process of downsizing. I fantasized out loud about downsizing.
The things. They pile up.
Sick of cleaning the house, and yard work, and dinner, and, and, and... Like a dumb-ass I listed all the things that suck down my days. One of the women looks at me and says "why don't you outsource some of it?"
Actually, I have been considering getting a guy or a crew or someone to come in and prune and prep the yard for winter. Or, ya know, just let everything go to heck the way I do every year. I angst every year till it snows for really-reals, and then, oh well.
I curse myself for that decision every spring as I muck out the flowerbeds.
I curse myself for that decision every spring as I muck out the flowerbeds.
I say, "yeah, I've been considering that." Sweet visions of a truck full of guys to do all the things so I don't have to.
"They have these things called schools, you know," she smirks back at me, "you could send your kids there and it would free you up for everything else."
Siiiiiiighhhhhhh....
I forgot. This particular woman has raised her children, all of whom are hyper- successful and happy products of public education and a good, solid wallop of higher education to boot. We have had a conversation before where she kindly explained to me what a disaster it will be if my kids don't get a diploma and a degree or better, several degrees.
Look. I don't think homeschooling is for everyone. If you send your kids to the local public school or go charter or private.... whatever. It's your thing. You do you.
I get that not everyone approves of what we do, or believe that it is a good idea. At all.
We homeschool.
It is difficult and exhausting.
But.
Why on earth would I outsource one of my favorite things? Why would I chuck all the personal revelation from my God, all of the gains my children have made, and all of the blessings?
My fault for putting Homeschooling on the list of what my day is.
Let me be clear: Homeschool is up there with food, raising my kids, and prayer. Not out sourcing any of it. Except for the occasional trip to Del Taco.
Because tacos.
Sometimes you just need a big bag of tacos, and maybe a crew of guys to fix up the yard.
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