Sunday, May 21, 2017

Appear Not Unto Men, But Unto Thy Father



About two years ago, I remember feeling enlightened while reading Christ’s words in 3 Nephi 13. The word “appear” stood out to me more than any other time I’d read it. In the scripture passage, Christ shares examples about how we do things to appear a certain way towards men, when really, we should focus on how we appear to God.

1,4:“…take heed ye do not your alms before men to be seen of them; otherwise ye have no reward of your Father...thine alms may be in secret; and then thy Father who seeth in secret, himself shall reward thee openly.”

18:“That thou appear not unto men to fast, but unto thy Father who is in secret; and thy Father, who seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly.”

Aren’t Christ’s words exactly what we need for our day? We live at a time where people seem to care about being “seen of men” more than anything else. Facebook and Instragram so often are used to push an appearance. And if we are not careful, we can get caught up in it as well. We must remember that our appearance before God is what truly matters.

In 3 Nephi 12:15, when the Savior teaches us to, “let your light so shine before this people, that they may see your good works,” how often are we forgetting the second part of that verse—“and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” It does matter that we shine our light, in order to bring others to Christ and to glorify God—not to bring others to “us” and to glorify “ourselves.” So, do we exercise and maintain a healthy body to bring glory and attention to ourselves or to God? Do we post pictures of ourselves playing with our kids to appear a certain way, but in the same breath stop playing once the picture is posted? Do we attend church to “make an appearance,” but spend the rest of the day breaking the Sabbath? It is so important that we look at our motives behind all that we do.

If I’m being honest, I had a major inner-battle as I considered even starting this blog. I felt strong impressions to create my blog, but almost immediately after, I began to worry what others might think. What if I was criticized for my beliefs? What if I was mocked? What if no one read it? What if it looked like I was trying to get attention? What if it offended people? Because I let myself worry about how it would appear to “man,” rather than to God, I almost didn’t go forward with it. Thankfully, as I continued to turn to the Lord in this dilemma, I was blessed to care more about God’s will than man’s. If Samuel the Lamanite was willing to stand on a wall and testify of Christ—while people shot arrows at him—certainly, I could handle whatever came my way as I shared my own, personal witness.

It is SO easy to slip into worrying about how we appear to man instead of God. What a blessing though, that when we DO only care about how God sees us, we are openly blessed by Him—far more than any “man” could ever “reward” us. For example, I’ve found true happiness in pondering, writing, and sharing as I post in my blog. God has blessed me to not worry about likes, comments, shares, and numbers; but instead, to care about how He views what I’m doing. I feel His validation, encouragement, and love. These sweet blessings inspire me to press on, regardless of what others think.

Think about how liberating it would be for us as women, if we only cared about how we appeared to God. If we did this, we would be better mothers, wives, friends, and people. We would mother our children more gently and lovingly, whether it be in public or within the walls of our homes. We would think positively of other women, rather than fault-find verbally or mentally. We would stop comparing. We would practice complete fidelity in our marriages. We would be okay that our body doesn’t fit the world’s standard, and instead, focus on living a healthy lifestyle in a way that pleases God. We would be more selective in what we watched on TV. We would serve better in our callings. Our motives, thoughts, desires, and actions would improve, enabling us to feel more REAL love and joy in life.

Neil L. Andersen put it this way,

Sunday, May 7, 2017

People Can Be Like Moldy Cantaloupes


During my first year of marriage, I noticed a rotting cantaloupe in the bottom drawer of my fridge. Annoyed with myself for forgetting I put it there, I cautiously pulled it out. The cantaloupe looked disgusting and was covered in mold. Just as I went to throw it in the trash, an unexpected thought crossed my mind—what if? Give it a try. Being a poor college student, I relented to do just that, and gave it a try. I cut it open, and trimmed off the mold-covered rind. Hesitantly, I tried a tiny bite. I could not believe it. It was hands-down the best cantaloupe I’d ever tasted. The sweetness was spot on, and the texture was perfect. Thank goodness I didn’t throw it away!

Not long after eating my gem of a cantaloupe 😉, another thought came to my mind. That cantaloupe was like a person. The thought was so random and strange, but it set off significant fireworks in my heart. Do I ever “toss” a person aside, without giving them a chance? How quick am I to judge someone based off of a short-sighted first impression? Who have I neglected because I didn’t take the time to see the good? How many sweet and fulfilling relationships with others am I missing out on? What if I gave love to ALL, without handpicking?

Joseph B. Wirthlin taught,

Sunday, April 23, 2017

When All Darkness Gathers In

Death. Infertility. Miscarriage. Loss of a child. Depression. Cancer. Divorce. Unmarried. Abuse. Disabilities. Anxiety. Child who strays. Job loss. Financial burden. Poor health. Obesity. Marital Problems. Betrayal. Physical pain. Losing the faith. Suicidal thoughts. Infidelity. Illness. Brain damage. Stroke. Addiction. Widowed/Widower. Failure. 


Every word listed above affects people who are dear friends to me—people who are close to my heart. I am sure many of you could say the same. Unsurprisingly, most of us have had first-hand experience with something on that list, including me. Life brings sorrows, pains, and trials that test us to the very core. Each trial varies in its difficulty; nevertheless, each brings unique suffering and struggle to the receiver. Five years ago, I experienced my own devastating trial.



The Phone Call


I will never forget it—that awful phone call. It was a typical June day, hanging out with my cute toddler in our little apartment. The scorching, humid weather of northern Virginia kept us inside, especially because I was 38 weeks pregnant with my second child. My cell rang and I answered to my sister, Sydnie. She said I needed to pray for Kj, our 16-year-old brother. She didn’t have any specific details yet, but she knew it involved a waterfall at Boy Scout Camp, and Kj needed to be life-flighted.

After I hung up, my heart and mind raced. Maybe Kj was in a hospital with a flurry of doctors surrounding him? Did he hit his head? Break a bone? Was he paralyzed? Possible brain damage? I earnestly prayed that his injuries were minimal. When could I talk to him? I hoped it wouldn’t be long. I imagined sitting next to his hospital bed while he told me his story. What a crazy story he would have to tell! I then wondered if his injuries would affect his sports. I continued to create scenarios of his condition, but I honestly never imagined what I was told when Sydnie called again. She was crying, “Kj is dead.”

Dark Days


Those horrible words caught me completely off guard. I cried out in pure panic and asked hysterically, “How do you know? How do you know?! Did a doctor give up on him? Wasn’t there a way to revive him? Who made the call to quit trying?” My sister didn’t have any answers, but she knew he was for sure, gone. I collapsed to my couch, shaking and sobbing. My little brother was dead, and there was nothing I could do to change that. The next slap in the face came when it dawned on me—I couldn’t go to his funeral. Because I was so far along in my pregnancy, I couldn’t fly out to Utah. I couldn’t go see him one last time. I couldn’t be with my family and grieve. These realizations further stabbed my already broken heart.

The following days were very, very dark for me; days that I don’t like to remember. My world was shattered and I was about to have a baby. My sweet husband took over all of my “mom duties,” while in the mean time, I crawled into a hole of grief and pain. Oh, how I missed my brother! I hated that the last time I saw him was during Christmastime (6 months before his death). I wanted so badly to be with my family and attend his funeral.

Generally, I am a happy and outgoing person. But during those dark days, I felt totally the opposite—sad and introverted. If a visitor came, I pretended to be taking a nap in my room—making myself unavailable. I attended church sacrament meeting and left during the closing prayer so I wouldn’t have to talk to anyone. If I had to leave the apartment, I saw the world in numbness. I honestly wondered if I would ever be happy again. I didn’t smile. If someone called or texted, I didn’t respond.

To make matters worse, I begged and pleaded to the Lord for help—but, to no avail. I did NOT want to be feeling so depressed; yet, no matter how hard I prayed, I felt completely alone and filled with pain. It was as if the Lord had abandoned me.  I’ve never felt so alone.

I couldn't see His hand, but trusted He was there


How would I be able to mother two children in such a terrible condition? I was barely keeping up with my toddler. I felt awfully weak and lifeless, how could I deliver a baby? Even though these fearful questions crossed my mind, I chose to cling to my faith. Past experience taught me to, “trust in the Lord with all thine heart (Proverbs 3:5),” and so I did. Please Heavenly Father, provide a way, because I definitely can’t see it. Please help me. My unwanted feelings of solitude remained, but thank goodness I didn’t give up.

When we face such despairing moments, Dieter F. Uchtdorf offers this beautiful counsel,

“And to all who suffer—to all who feel discouraged, worried, or lonely—I say with love and deep concern for you, never give in. Never surrender. Never allow despair to overcome your spirit. Embrace and rely upon the Hope of Israel, for the love of the Son of God pierces all darkness, softens all sorrow, and gladdens every heart.”

Similarly, David S. Baxter teaches,

“At these moments of crisis and challenge, some choose to abandon faith just at the time when it most needs to be embraced.  Prayer is ignored at the very hour when it needs to be intensified.  Virtue is carelessly tossed aside when it needs to be cherished.  God is forsaken in the all-too-human yet mistaken fear that He has forsaken us…The truth is that our only safety, our only security, our only hope is to hold fast to that which is good.  As the mists of darkness gather around us, we are only lost if we choose to let go of the iron rod.”

What a blessing to know that the Son of God pierces all darkness and softens all sorrows! In moments of crisis, we must embrace our faith in Christ, even if we can’t see the end from the beginning. As I suffered the loss of my brother, I am so grateful that I relied upon my Savior. I clung to the iron rod and prayed earnestly. I held on to the only One who had the power of deliverance, even Jesus Christ. I could not see His hand, but I trusted He was there.

Deliverance


The night before Kj’s funeral, I was restless and couldn’t sleep. The truth is I hadn’t slept much in the last four days. I felt beyond tired and extremely depleted. My head hurt from all the tears, and my eyes were practically swollen shut. I tossed and turned, until suddenly, (at roughly 2 am) I felt a contraction. Could this be it? I moved around the apartment and felt another contraction. Was my baby girl coming? I took a shower and the contractions kept coming.

I do not know how to adequately describe what happened next. Tears are running down my cheeks as I think about it. Christ swept in. He took over. The darkness, the pain, the worry, the anguish, the fatigue…the Lord lifted it. He delivered me from the darkness. I felt a LITERAL, physical, emotional, and mental lift of my burdens. I am here to testify—with all the power that I can muster—that Jesus Christ’s atonement is real and magnificent. I experienced His deliverance first-hand and cannot deny what took place that night.

Jeffrey R. Holland’s testimony describes my experience,

“I testify that the Savior’s Atonement lifts from us not only the burden of our sins but also the burden of our disappointments and sorrows, our heartaches and our despair…There can and will be plenty of difficulties in life. Nevertheless, the soul that comes unto Christ, who knows His voice and strives to do as He did, finds a strength, as the hymn says, “beyond [his] own.” The Savior reminds us that He has “graven [us] upon the palms of [His] hands.” Considering the incomprehensible cost of the Crucifixion and Atonement, I promise you He is not going to turn His back on us now. When He says to the poor in spirit, “Come unto me,” He means He knows the way out and He knows the way up. He knows it because He has walked it. He knows the way because He is the way.”

I found strength far beyond my own. Christ provided the way.

A Miracle


As my husband and I drove to the hospital that night, my heart was filled with gratitude, peace, hope, and love. My Savior was carrying me in every way possible. A special calm enveloped my soul. I also felt my brother near, and I know he was involved in the details of that night and the following morning.

Miraculously, I gave birth to a beautiful, perfect baby girl just before Kj’s funeral started, on June 25th, 2012. Tears streamed down my weary face as I held her in my arms. The Spirit filled the delivery room—for we were in a holy place. What a precious blessing to hold her after losing my brother! She came at the exact time I needed her. Indeed, she was a direct gift from my loving Heavenly Father.
Throughout my hospital stay, I continued to feel astounding peace, hope, and love. I felt close to Kj, and of his awareness of me and my new baby. Normally, after giving birth I am totally wiped out, but not this time. Jesus Christ continued to sustain me with His grace and enabling power.
The news of my daughter’s arrival gently blessed many broken hearts, especially amongst my family. My husband and I chose to name our baby Karoline Janae, giving her the same initials as her Uncle Kj. Karoline’s timely birth is a testament that God is involved in the details of our lives.

Why?


I have spent time pondering why the Savior didn’t immediately take my pain, even when I turned to Him so earnestly. Why did He allow me to suffer for several days? Why did I have to feel completely alone?

Over the years, many answers have come to those questions. Three main reasons stand out to me the most.

First, suffering can refine and strengthen us.


I better understand this principle now that I am a parent. Recently, I took my toddler to the Emergency Room. It killed me to watch while the nurses performed their painful tests. With each poke, I winced for him. Even though it was terribly painful to allow this suffering, I knew it was for the best…it was the only way to help him. My son quizzically looked at me as he screamed and cried. I’m sure he was wondering why I wasn’t freeing him from this terrifying experience. However, I knew these “pains” would ultimately help him. I sought to comfort him the best I could, but I still allowed his suffering.

Likewise, at times God allows us to suffer because He sees the end from the beginning. Sometimes the suffering will be lifted, but sometimes it won’t. There is great growth that can occur through difficult trials and testing. We must trust in the Lord as we journey through mortality. If we choose so, our trials can be for our good and we will come out triumphant. Just because we are suffering, does NOT mean God isn’t aware of every single second of pain. When my son was in the hospital, every pain he went through mattered to me. Because I loved him so much, I had to allow his suffering in order to help him properly. I know the Lord feels the same way for us. He will never forsake us, even if we are allowed to suffer.

Orson F. Whitney put it this way,

“No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude, and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God … and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we came here to acquire and which will make us more like our Father and Mother in heaven.”

I now see that because of the pains I experienced after Kj died, I have far more compassion and empathy for others who suffer. My testimony of Christ’s amazing grace is stronger, and my reliance upon Him has increased. I am less judgmental of other’s situations. I better recognize my need to accept service from others. I learned I am nothing without Christ. I see how much I desperately need His atonement.

Secondly, I have discovered that suffering enables us to witness and experience God’s goodness.


If Christ had immediately taken my burden, I wouldn’t have appreciated or recognized His magnificent hand like I did. Doctrine and Covenants 29:39 reveals this truth, “…if they never should have bitter they could not know the sweet—.” I needed to know the bitter so I could rejoice in the sweet.

What if we never allowed our children to learn to walk, and instead, always held them? What if we gave them everything they wanted, when they wanted it? What if we celebrated birthdays every day of the year? What if we went up to bat for them in their ball games? What if we did their homework for them? Obviously, If we did all of these things, our children wouldn’t know gratitude, hard work, success, joy, independence, perseverance, excitement, love, and so on.

As parents, it is easy for us to see that our children’s challenges and struggles help them grow and become stronger. It enables them to find happiness and success. Undeniably, these same principles apply to each of us as we face the difficulties of life.

Of course, we do not go looking for pain and suffering (If I had it my way, Kj would still be here). And most often we don’t get to choose our trials (unless we bring them upon ourselves through poor choices). Nonetheless, when suffering does come—as we all know it will, we can respond in a positive or negative way. The choice is ours. I am grateful for what I have learned through my harrowing trial, even though it has meant a great deal of pain. I am a better person because of it. I miss Kj terribly, but I trust in God’s perfect plan for His children.

Third, through faithful suffering, we can stand as witnesses of Christ.


Ether 12:6 teaches, “I would show unto the world that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith.”

There will be times in life when we cannot see, and we wonder, why me? But if we press on in hope and faith, our eyes eventually will be opened to understand. Ironically, oftentimes the suffering itself is what gives us the understanding we seek.  And once we gain that light and education, we then have the opportunity to be witnesses for Jesus Christ.

In Mosiah 24:14 we read, “And I will also ease the burdens which are put upon your shoulders, that even you cannot feel them upon your backs, even while you are in bondage; and this will I do that ye may stand as witnesses for me hereafter, and that ye may know of a surety that I, the Lord God, do visit my people in their afflictions.”

This verse holds a special place in my heart, because it is so applicable to how I feel. I know my burden has been lightened so I can stand as a witness for Christ. Nothing brings me greater joy than seeing others come to know their Savior. So, I pray that my witness will help others find Christ the way I did. The blessing of standing as a witness has helped in my healing process, and has helped me to find joy amidst my trial.

Additionally, I am greatly uplifted and strengthened by the witness of others. I find encouragement in my own problems when I see a young mother fight cancer, with her faith centered in Christ. Or to see my parents, after losing their only son, press forward and choose Christ, powerfully touches me. I’ll never forget the man who stuttered terribly, but still chose to testify of Christ at the pulpit. My sweet husband lost his mom to cancer at the age of 16, and I’m continually inspired by his Christ-like example. And to see a dear friend lose her first-born and suffer post-partum depression, but still hold onto the Savior, is a special witness to me. For you see, as we turn to Christ through our sufferings, we stand as witnesses of Christ to each other. And by doing that, we are able to serve and uplift one another, becoming stronger and stronger in our unified faith. It truly is a beautiful thing. We are one in Christ as we stand as His witnesses.

Conclusion


Mercifully, the days that followed my daughter’s birth were just as sweet and full of awe. How could I be feeling so light after losing my only brother? The answer is, and always will be, Jesus Christ. Mothering two was easier than it should’ve been. I felt increased patience with all the demands of mothering. My soul was peaceful and without turmoil. Of course, I still cried tears about Kj’s death and missed him with my whole heart (I still do); BUT, the “gloom and doom” was gone. I was able to miss him without the darkness. Because of Christ, I could miss him without feeling despair. And guess what? I STILL feel this way. Kj’s death is still a very real and sad thing in my life, but I am humbly grateful I can cry and miss him without feeling dark despair. Five years later, Christ’s atonement is a precious gift that keeps on giving.

A beautiful truth about our Savior’s loving atonement is that ALL can have the same outcome I experienced, regardless of the reason of suffering. Jesus Christ can make our burdens light and bring peace to our hearts. In our darkest moments He is there, even if we don’t see Him. He can heal us. It may not be immediate, but His promises hold true. In Matthew 11:28, Christ kindly invites us to, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

I bear my unwavering witness that Jesus Christ lives. He will never forsake us. If we choose Him, He will sustain us in our sufferings. If we choose Him, every battle we face can bring growth and an increased ability to feel joy. If we choose Him, we have the privilege of standing as His witnesses. If we choose Him, we will find healing and happiness as we bless and uplift each other. I will be forever grateful to my Redeemer for His amazing grace. In my darkest hour, He blessed me with His love and light, and I know He can do the same for all of us.

1. Jesus, the very thought of thee
With sweetness fills my breast;
But sweeter far thy face to see
And in thy presence rest.

2. Nor voice can sing, nor heart can frame,
Nor can the mem'ry find
A sweeter sound than thy blest name,
O Savior of mankind!

3. O hope of ev'ry contrite heart,
O joy of all the meek,
To those who fall, how kind thou art!
How good to those who seek!

4. Jesus, our only joy be thou,
As thou our prize wilt be;
Jesus, be thou our glory now,
And thru eternity.

(“Jesus the Very Thought of Thee”. Hymnal, p. 141. Text: Attr. to Bernard of Clairvaux, ca. 1091-1153; trans. by Edward Caswall, 1814-1878)


Details about Kj and his Death


On October 20th, 1995, Kj was born into our large family. My four sisters and I were beyond excited to have a baby brother…finally! My parents were also thrilled to have a son after five daughters. We needed Kj, and he changed our family forever.

I loved holding Kj as a baby, playing sword fights with him when he was a toddler, sleeping out on the trampoline when he was a kid, and sharing a friendship when he was a pre-teen and teen. We went on bike rides and walks, floated the canal, threw a baseball in the backyard, made huts, played Nintendo, planned Family Home Evening together, read scriptures together, rented movies, made movies…the list could go on and on. He was my friend. He was one to say, “I love you”—he regularly showed his love to my family. Kj told the funniest stories, and could make me and my sisters laugh so hard we couldn’t breathe.
Kj was a friend to the “new kid” and left people better than he found them. He stood up for right and was a positive example to many. He found the good in life and in people. He often talked about how he just wanted to skip high school and serve a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. His spiritual maturity was well beyond his years.
He loved sports (especially baseball), and as a Sophomore, he helped his Varsity baseball team win the State Championship. He also loved the outdoors—camping, fishing, hunting, and hiking. Four short weeks after winning the State Championship, Kj left with his scout troop to Havasupai in Arizona.

On June 20th, 2012, a group of boy scouts (including Kj) and leaders swam in Havasu Falls before lunch. No danger lurked and they had a blast. They met as a troop to eat lunch and then a group went ahead to Mooney Falls.
Upon arrival, Kj waded into the 5 ft. deep water. He swam just to the right of the main falls, and immediately got trapped in a strong current that pulled him under. He swam hard, struggling in the whitewater. He called for help saying that he couldn't breathe. Person #1 (excluding names for privacy) moved toward him, but couldn't reach him, so he jumped in. The current was so strong it pulled the shoes off Person #1’s feet. Person #1 was able to reach Kj’s hand, but the current was pulling both of them down and towards the waterfall. Kj was pulled forcefully by the water, breaking the handgrip. Kj disappeared below the whitewater for too long (somewhere between 2-5 minutes). When he finally appeared, he was face down in the whitewater. While standing on the bank, Person #2 was able to see the back of Kj’s head and his shoulder blades. He dove in and grabbed him. Person #2 felt he was being sucked in, but once he grabbed Kj, he felt pushed out of the falls. Person #2 pulled Kj to shore and immediately began resuscitation. In the meantime, Person #1 and Person #3 were stuck behind the falls and couldn’t escape. A human chain had to be formed to get them out.

Several people continued CPR on Kj. It was clear he was not breathing and he did not have a heartbeat. There was no cell-phone service in that area, so it was hard to call for help. Someone ran to get another leader, who was a MD.

Multiple attempts to bring Kj back were made and many priesthood blessings were offered. But after almost two hours of trying, they regretfully announced Kj as dead.

The reason our family did not know many details during this time was because of the cell-phone service. For anyone to call us, they would have to travel a couple miles to reach service. We first were informed Kj was hurt in a waterfall, and later we were told he died.

A helicopter was supposed to come quickly, but never did. The evening of his death, a group of courageous men chose to hike Kj’s body out to the village. This was a very dangerous task and incredibly difficult, but miraculously they completed the task. To them our family will be forever grateful.

My family and I do NOT hold anyone responsible, and we trust that it was Kj’s time to continue his work on the other side. We express deep gratitude for all who were involved in any way.

My daughter, Karoline, will turn 5 on June 25th, 2017. She continues to be a great blessing in my life.


Monday, March 27, 2017

Do you see it, Momma?


A few years ago, I wrote this line in my journal, “I hope I never become numb to how good my life really is.” It is something I still hope for. I hope it for all of us. What do I mean by becoming “numb”? I am referring to things that dull the senses, harden the heart, blind the eyes, and deafen the ears. Things that distract us from what matters most. Things that hinder the Spirit in our lives. Things that blind us from the joy and blessings of motherhood. Those “numbing things” are different for everyone (wasting time on social media, selfishness, negative thinking, vanity, Netflix binging, envy, overeating…the list could go on and on). If we aren’t careful of such numbing vices in our lives, we will slowly but steadily become blind to the sweet and tender moments of motherhood. There is much joy and goodness surrounding us, but we have to do our part to see and experience it. In other words, we have to wake up from being numb.

I had a “wake up” call during one of my pregnancies (pregnancy and I don’t get along as you can probably tell from my other blog posts 😉). Life as a mother was feeling overwhelming and numbness to the good in life was creeping in. Amidst all the nausea, vomiting, sleepless nights, and fatigue, it was hard to see much good. On one particularly difficult day, I sincerely prayed for help. How can I get through this? 

Sunday, March 12, 2017

Fear is a Lie


Fear. Every one of us has felt it in one way or another. And if we aren’t careful, it will cripple us as mothers.

“Who among us can say that he or she has not felt fear? I know of no one who has been entirely spared. Some, of course, experience fear to a greater degree than do others. Some are able to rise above it quickly, but others are trapped and pulled down by it and even driven to defeat. We suffer from the fear of ridicule, the fear of failure, the fear of loneliness, the fear of ignorance. Some fear the present, some the future. Some carry the burden of sin and would give almost anything to unshackle themselves from those burdens but fear to change their lives. Let us recognize that fear comes not of God, but rather that this gnawing, destructive element comes from the adversary of truth and righteousness. Fear is the antithesis of faith. It is corrosive in its effects, even deadly.” 
–Gordon B. Hinckley

Fear is prevalent among us today—especially among mothers. Anytime I let fear enter my heart, it sneakily affects all aspects of my life. It is like a dark cloud that blocks out the sunlight. It blinds my mind and heart. It distracts me from truth. It distracts me from what matters most. It takes away from my joy in motherhood.

Of course Satan knows how destructive fear is, so you better believe he is having a hay day planting little seeds of doubt and fear into our minds and hearts. He is the “father of all lies”, and finds great satisfaction when we fall for his lies. He knows the POWERFUL force for GOOD mothers can have—and he wants to stop that. If he can bring down mothers, he can bring down the whole family.

We must stop falling for his lies. FEAR IS A LIE.

It is time for us to take action and fight back. How do we fight?

Monday, February 27, 2017

Motherhood was NOT the fairytale I expected


For as long as I can remember, I dreamed of being a mother. As a child I always wanted to play “mom”, and as a teenager my friends teased me for being the “mom” of the group. I jumped at any chance to hold a baby. I remember holding a newborn at church and feeling so much awe, reverence, and love for this little human-being that wasn’t even mine. I could not wait for the day to hold my own, precious bundle.

Fast forward to my dreams being fulfilled! There I was at 20 years old—married, pregnant, and ecstatic. I visited a friend who had just had a baby, and I was excited to hear all the details of her wonderful new life as a mom. I was shocked to see someone who looked and talked everything opposite of what I expected. I could tell she was struggling. She shared with me how hard it was getting up all night long with the baby. She was tired and exhausted. Her face looked sad and down. I *hate* to admit this, but at the time I had the audacity to think, “How can it be that hard? I know it won’t be hard for me to wake up in the night with my baby. I am surprised at how hard she is making it.” It’s amazing how quick we are to judge something we have NO experience in. I am ashamed I had such thoughts.

The day finally came! My water broke and my baby boy was ready to make his debut. I felt an immediate love for him the moment I looked into his perfect face. And then it happened…it was time to begin a journey that would try, test, and challenge me to my very core.  


The “high” of just giving birth was gone and I was tired, oh so tired. I couldn’t wait to sleep as the nurse wheeled me into the next room. Then Karter started crying. Okay, okay. I can do this. He is probably hungry. I will nurse him. Why can’t he latch on? What am I doing wrong? Two hours later..Is it normal for him to want to nurse this long? Oh no! I need to change his diaper again..but I just changed it. Do babies really need a diaper change this often? Another two hours later…Oh I am SO tired and I wish I could sleep! I’ll try laying the baby down swaddled. Why won’t he sleep? I will try holding him. Why is he still crying? Does he need to burp? Two hours after that…Should I try laying him down again? Is it normal he hasn’t nursed for four hours now? I’ll lay him down. Shoot—he is crying again. But I am so tired. And so it went. My thoughts raced and I worried about everything. I didn’t sleep for 72 hrs. I cried, prayed, took a sleeping pill, received a blessing, etc. but nothing seemed to assuage my worry.

Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Man oh man was being a mom hard! I loved my baby, there wasn’t a doubt about that, but my new way of life threw me for a whirlwind. Sleepless nights, changing diapers, figuring out breastfeeding, a healing post-partum body, going places with a baby—all of it felt hard. I questioned my ability to mother and if I was really fit to do this. I know every mother’s experience is different, but for me the struggle was in full force with my firstborn. Motherhood was NOT the fairy tale I had imagined, and I felt disappointed in myself for thinking so.

Yet, over the years, I have discovered that motherhood is actually BETTER than a fairytale. It is BETTER than I ever imagined; BUT, It is also far HARDER than I ever imagined. Isn’t interesting how “harder but better” go hand in hand? So often we think that if something is hard it means it is deplete of anything good. But the exact opposite is actually the case. How is that possible? With all the sacrifice, pain, heartache, frustration, fatigue, impatience, worry, and anxiety—where is the good in all of that? How does that make motherhood better than a fairytale? Because motherhood is REAL.It brings us to our knees and opens our hearts. It helps us SEE and FEEL in new ways. It puts life into perspective. It turns us to the Savior. It requires much sacrifice, that in return leads to many, many blessings. I am slowly being stretched and molded into something far better than what I was before. I am learning selflessness and sacrifice on a whole new level. I have more gratitude in my heart for the small and simple things of life—a handmade note with misspelled words, giggles from made-up jokes, an uninterrupted shower, a night out with my husband, first steps and first words, kids voluntarily sharing their graham crackers—the list could go on forever. My patience is increasing. My love is increasing. There are things that used to seem so hard that are now feeling easier. I am less judgmental of other moms. I am closer to God and my Savior. I am becoming more like Christ. I am doing His work and experiencing life through His eyes and heart.

“No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God . . . and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire and which will make us more like our Father and Mother in heaven.” –Orson F. Whitney

I remember a time when Karter was 18 months-old and I was pregnant with my second child. We were in the airport late at night and it had been a LONG day. Karter hadn’t napped in 14 hours and his behavior reflected that. I was exhausted. I saw how much Karter was struggling and I felt the need to help him, even though I was struggling myself. I picked him up and held him over my large belly. I walked to a corner where there weren’t as many people and gently rocked him in my arms. I sang primary songs in his ear and tried my best to comfort him. Suddenly, the commotion around me disappeared and it was as if we were the only two people in the airport. I was overcome with so much love, peace, and strength. I felt my Heavenly Father’s gratitude for me and for what I was doing. I also felt His matchless love for me and for Karter. We were in a holy place and I knew I would never forget that moment. My burden was lightened and my joy was overflowing. My heart was bursting with love for the precious children God had blessed me with. I felt one with Christ.

“9 As the Father hath loved me, so have I loved you: continue ye in my love.
“ 10 If ye keep my commandments, ye shall abide in my love; even as I have kept my Father’s commandments, and abide in his love.
 “11 These things have I spoken unto you, that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy might be full.”  – John 15:9-11

Turning to Christ with every sacrifice and pain leads to an increased ability to feel love and joy. The more I strive to be the mother God needs me to be, the more joy I find in each day. Do I still have difficult moments? You bet. Are there still times I feel stretched to my very limit? Absolutely. Do I ever cry at night because it can be overwhelming? Yes! Do I know many trials lie ahead? Of course. Do I know I am young and I have a whole lot more to learn and experience? Without a doubt. But when I see where I am now compared to who I was before, I am humbled and grateful for every difficulty that has led to the greatest of blessings. It is all worth it.

“…we can have confidence and trust that our loving Heavenly Father can and will rebuild us. His plan is to build us into something far greater than what we can ever imagine. With each step of faith on the path of discipleship, we grow into the beings of eternal glory and infinite joy we were designed to become.” –Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Eight years later and now with 4 kids, my circumstances haven’t changed much…I still wake up in the night with a baby, change diapers all day, clean messes, do endless loads of laundry, worry about what is best for my children, etc…but I have changed as a person. Motherhood is shaping me into something far better than the previous me. I look forward to the continual shaping and blessings that are in store.

“Pressing on in noble endeavors, even while surrounded by a cloud of depression, will eventually bring you out on top into the sunshine. Even our master Jesus the Christ, while facing that supreme test of being temporarily left alone by our Father during the crucifixion, continued performing his labors for the children of men, and then shortly thereafter he was glorified and received a fullness of joy. While you are going through your trial, you can recall your past victories and count the blessings that you do have with a sure hope of greater ones to follow if you are faithful. And you can have that certain knowledge that in due time God will wipe away all tears and that “eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God hath prepared for them that love him.” (1 Cor. 2:9.)” –Ezra Taft Benson

If I could go back in time, I would wrap my arms around my friend who had just had her baby and was struggling. I would cry with her and tell her I understood how hard it was. I would tell her to hold on and hang in there, because blessings and joy were around the corner. My desire is that this blog can metaphorically do that for any mom who could use a hug. I hope to share insights and experiences that will bless and uplift us as we journey through this hard yet beautiful life of motherhood.