Living by the Spirit 

We are planning on leaving for a family reunion this evening; however, in order for us to be able to leave, my husband has had to work many late nights. Last night was one of those "late nights", and because he had ridden his bike to work, he needed me to pick him up from work. After putting the kid's to bed, I walked around the house making sure everything was locked. As I was locking the backdoor, I noticed that I hadn't covered the grill earlier in the evening so I stepped outside to do so. I live in a quiet neighborhood. I have never felt unsafe; however, as I was covering the grill, I felt anxious, and unsafe. I kept feeling as if I should go back inside my home. As I worked, I chided myself for being silly, and perhaps discounted those warning feelings I was receiving.
After locking the backdoor, I went in to my children fully expecting to kiss them goodnight, and then leave to pick up my husband; however, as I walked into their room they seemed unsettled and nervous. The begged me to allow them to come. I thought of all the reasons in which they should stay and simply go to bed. My oldest daughter is old enough to babysit. I have left her home with the kids on several occasions, so leaving to pick up my husband wasn't an issue; however, after saying another family prayer, I felt prompted to bring my children with me. It was then that I started wondering about the feeling I had recently experienced at my backdoor. Looking at the late hour on my clock, I sighed and told my kids to go buckle up. We don't always know why we receive the impressions; however, I know we are kept safe as we choose to follow the promptings. Last night was no exception to that--as we were pulling out of our garage, Amber noticed three police cars parked on our street, close to our home.

I have a niece serving a mission in Philadelphia. Her letter yesterday was similar to our experience last night. She wrote: "Earlier this week I had the impression that I needed to knock on one of the doors with a shaded porch. (There were about 6 of them at the end of these row homes.) It was insanely hot and we were walking to our next lesson, so I almost kept walking. But I've promise The Lord I will act on every impression He gives me, so I flipped around and went to the first door. We met a nice potential. As I walked away I was thinking, "..alrighty. I did it. Anything else?" I knew it wasn't the person we were needed to help. This time I stopped to listen carefully and felt which door was right. We knocked on the door and met Ana. She greeted me like I was her long lost daughter. She hurried us in, gave me a big kiss on the cheek, and started telling me all about her granddaughter and the rest of her family. Then she said, "Would you like a drink of aqua?" I turned to Sister Wood to see if she would like a drink and found her staring at me like I was a crazy person. She looked bewildered. I turned back to Ana and said, "We would love two waters. Thank you so much." Then she looked at me with a similarly confused expression and said, "no hablo Ingles." It was then I realized that she had been speaking Spanish the entire time but I had been able to understand every single word. And apparently she had understood me as well. I stammered out, "Uh... Si. Dos aquas. Gracias." (So by now I had exhausted my entire Spanish vocabulary. Ha.) Throughout the rest of the visit I was still able to feel exactly what she was saying and she started crying when I bore my testimony. I've never experienced the gift or tongues or conversed with angels, but I imagine those conversation being similar to the one I had with Ana. Thanks to the Holy Ghost we were able to speak spirit to spirit. My other favorite "miracle" from this week was when I felt the blessing of my protecting angels The Lord keep promising me. There were a group of people, a family, standing a crossed the street from where we were walking and, Instinctively, I started over to talk with them. Almost instantly my heart was drained of all desire to share my testimony. It was the strangest thing! While I was saying a quick, fervent prayer asking for forgiveness and charity I felt somebody gently grab my elbow as of they were holding me back and reassuring me not to go over. I was filled with peace. I looked around — expecting to see Sister Wood — but I saw no one. We continued on to our appointment, which couldn't have been a block away, and watched as three police cars came around the corner and either arrested or questioned every individual that was amongst that group of people. Obviously I'm not sure why or what would have happened had we been standing with them, but I do know that there are forces, both seen and unseen, guided me and protecting me in this miraculous work. Everyday, if I'm listening, I find that 'his angels [have] charge concerning [me]: and in their hands they shall bear [me] up.'"(Matt. 4:6.)

I am grateful to a loving Heavenly Father who sends promptings and impressions. As we live close to the spirit, we are promised guidance through the Holy Ghost. I have an unshakeable testimony of the reality of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. I know that my Heavenly Father loves me. I know that this Church is true.

FAITH: BE BELIEVING

I had a moment of panic last week while in the lazy river at Roaring Springs. The management at Roaring Springs chose Friday as a day to test their lifeguards. While we were in the Lazy River, one of those "testings" occurred. All of a sudden, a panicked lifeguard was pointing, running, and blowing on her whistle. As I turned to see what she was pointing at, I could see a lifeless toddler on the bottom of the pool. My brain went on autopilot, and I gripped tighter to Jacob as I began running towards the child's body. I'm not sure why I didn't let go of Jacob, so that I could better help the child. Jacob was on a tube, and completely fine, but my mind didn't register that I needed both of my hands to better assist the drowning child. Instead, I tried frantically to lift the body with my one remaining hand. I felt alone as onlookers watched my struggle. One man seemed to come somewhat to his senses, and began moving to help as I slowly worked to pull the lifeless body to the surface. When the lifeguard finally arrived, she quickly pulled the child the rest of the way out of the water. It was then that I realized the child was only a mannequin, a decoy in an effort to train the lifeguard. I walked away from the lifeguard and the limp mannequin, and I cried silently. I was grateful to have been wearing my sunglasses. I was hoping that they were shielding my children from my grief. I kept chiding myself for being upset--all the while, grateful that it WAS a mannequin and not a real child. I think this experience was simply too close to home for me. I have a fear of my own children drowning. I don't really believe that it will ever come to pass, and I don't live in fear of it happening; however, I do all that I can to prevent it from happening. Ever since my children were small, they have had countless hours of swim instruction. When my brother died eighteen years ago, my father told me that I couldn't stop living. He counseled me to love the water, and persevere through my uncertainties. (After Eric died, I had moments of not wanting to play in the water, or to even participate in activities where water was concerned.) Through my father's counsel, I found peace. It was then that I decided to make water a part of my life. I refused to allow fear to keep me from living my life to the fullest. This experience at Roaring Springs took me back eighteen years to the time when my brother was pulled out of a river, and all those fears came rushing back. We have been taught that fear is not from God. We have been commanded to "be strong and of good courage, be not afraid neither be thou dismayed, for the Lord thy God is with thee" (Joshua 1:9). To me, fear is faithless. I may not understand everything in my life, there may be uncertainties, and most definitely there will be bad things that happen--I cannot prevent that. Fearing the bad will not stop the bad from coming. My little guy has been faced with many fears in his life, and what it has taught me is that when we face our fears with faith, God is near. He promises us that he will be with us. We must be believing. In D&C it states, "Search diligently, pray always, and be believing and all things will work together for your good." That is what faith is all about--it is believing that no matter what happens it is for our good. Alma further states that, "Faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore, if ye have faith ye hope for things that are not seen which are true." I may not understand why bad things happen, and I may not be able to prevent all the bad that will come my way, but I can face life with faith, and believe that no matter what happens--God is with me.

Power of Examples and The Power of God in Our Lives

Last night we went to a piano recital for my kids. One of the students performing was a young man in our Stake who has Down syndrome. He was placed in the front of the room with the other students. His mother sat directly behind him, so that she could remind him to be quiet through the performances. Every so often he would turn around, wave at his dad, and loudly whisper—“I love you dad, I love you dad.” His turn to perform finally arrived, and he was ecstatic. I could tell that music connected with his soul. When he was finished with his piece, he clasps his hands together, and threw them up in the air, shaking them from side to side as he seemed to be shouting, “hooray, and hooray.” Again, I was touched by his enthusiasm, and his genuine love. The last number of the evening was played by his sister, and much to her embarrassment—he insisted on her bowing more than once, because of his pure joy at how well she had done.

As I watched this young man express love to those around him, I thought of his example of pure love. I looked at my family, and I was reminded of the precious gift they truly are. I found myself moved to tears as I recommitted to speak of my love more often, to express it in action as well as word. Sometimes I get so busy with the day to day tasks that I neglect to stop and enjoy the moment. I don’t want the “moments” to pass me by.  

The other day as I was working with my son on his reading, I found myself getting frustrated. Jacob struggles with reading, but he is extremely capable. As we work, he gets better day by day. Sometimes he has a desire to persevere and to work, but other times—it’s just too hard. It was one of those “it’s just too hard” kind of days, and I found myself losing my patience at his lack of effort. I’m not sure what the “best” parenting technique would have been in this scenario, but I know that being impatient wasn't the technique I should have been using. Last night’s recital reminded me of the sanctity of our families, of the things that matter most, of the importance of patience even when it is so hard to be patient. I’m grateful to my Savior for his patience with me. Because of Him, I get to have a “redo” today. The atonement is a beautiful gift. I cannot adequately express through words my gratitude to my Savior—He loved me enough that He gave His life, so that I might continually work at becoming more like Him. Today I will start again. I will pray to be guided, and as I seek Him, I know that day by day I can overcome. I can express the love that is in my heart, and I can be the mom I want to become.

I'm so proud of the hard work and effort my kid's put into their piano this year. Both Hailey and Amber received an award that takes at least three years of near perfect performances at the spring festival. Here's my description from my journal, of what they did to prepare, and the miracles that have transpired through prayer:

My girl’s have been in piano for quite some time. Every spring they play in what is called “Spring Festival”—they don’t necessarily perform for an audience, but rather a judge. The judge holds their music in hand, while they perform. She critiques everything about what they are playing—their dynamics, quarter notes, eighth notes, tempo, crescendos, memory, timing…essentially the song has to be perfect in order to receive a superior. Once a superior is earned for three years, then the pianist is presented with a trophy of achievement. It is something my girls have worked extremely hard to obtain. This year happens to be the third year for both Hailey and Amber, and they have been anticipating the Spring Festival for quite some time. When they received their music, all was well for a time; however, it soon became apparent that the music Amber was being asked to perform was outside of her ability. With only a few weeks left to her big performance, Amber approached her dad for a Father’s blessing. In the blessing, Amber was promised that if she continued to work, the Lord would bless her with the ability to perform. At Amber’s next lesson, her piano teacher was amazed at her progress. At the following lesson, her teacher admitted that she had been worried, and explained that Amber’s progress was a miracle. Amber told her teacher of her Father’s blessing, and her teacher—with tears in her eyes—bore testimony that the blessing had been pronounced upon Amber’s head. That Sunday, Amber stood during Fast and Testimony Meeting, and bore her testimony of the Priesthood power. She explained how she wasn't prepared for the festival even though she had worked extremely hard to be prepared. She bore testimony of the power of Heavenly Father in our lives' when we turn to Him for help. She testified that her progress was through Him. After Sacrament Meeting, while in Relief Society, someone commented on Amber’s testimony. One of the women touched by Amber’s testimony was a visitor to our ward. After the meeting, she asked me to inform her mother (who was in our ward) of Amber’s results as she would be praying for Amber throughout the week.  I was touched by her kind thoughts and her willingness to pray. The following week Amber performed her songs for the judges with very little mishap, and received a Superior on both of her songs. The hard work and dedication had definitely paid off.  With a great deal of relief, I silently put the whole experience behind us; however, the following Monday I received a phone call from the mother of the woman who said she would be praying for us. It had slipped my mind to contact her, so when I received her call, I felt terrible that I had neglected to report. I think I secretly wondered if she was truly interested in the results, or if she was simply being kind. The mother explained to me that her daughter had been praying for my daughter’s success, and needed to know how the piano festival had gone. I was touched that the woman who had said she would pray—truly did pray. I was also touched that she remembered Amber, and I could feel the Spirit whisper a tender mercy we had been given. I was grateful to this woman for her generosity, and thanked her for following up with me.