Surprised by Joy

http://www.amazon.com/Surprised-Joy-Shape-Early-Life/dp/0156870118
(C.S. Lewis book)

It's been forever since I posted and it's time to get back to the blog!

Have you been where I've been lately? You know the church is true, you attend church every week, you still pray daily and spend time in the scripture most every day, but you're not really seeking, just going through the motions and you feel kinda empty inside.

I'm just coming out on the other side of one of those. It lasted too long, I'm ashamed to say.

The biggest emotion on this side? Surprise at the joy I've been missing out on. Why didn't I do what it takes to feel this sooner?

I have known and believed all my life that "men are that they might have joy" (2 Ne 2:25), that God gives us joy as we obey . I've felt it, experienced it, as I've tried to keep the commandments, sought to come to know my Savior and become more like him. And yet, I'm still continually surprised by the  depth of joy that comes through simple obedience.

I want to be lazy, to do things just for me (and things for me aren't wrong in moderation). But when I get up and serve (my family, sisters that I visit teach, anyone who crosses my path), there is this joy that fills my soul in ways nothing else does and it surprises me... every...time!

The past few weeks I've made decisions to consciously serve, daily. You think you don't have time, but I've had just as much free time as ever and the difference in how I've felt is just monumental.

It's a beautiful thing!

(Sarah, can you tell you inspired this post?)

Have Joy

It's so interesting when God is trying to teach me something, it starts popping up everywhere. The newest? A deeper understanding of God's desire for us to have joy, not just in the eternities, but in the here and now.

The current frustration--the proverbial spilled milk of the moment--is real. You know what I mean, the torn grocery bag whose contents scatter over the garage floor, the child who is being obstinate, the friend, neighbor, family member, co-worker who has misjudged (or is simply hard to be around), the finances that are strained, the hole in the stocking, etc.; those things are a constant in this life. However as I choose to focus on the spilled milk, obsess over the unfairness, get angry at the unkind person, etc., I pull blinders down over my eyes to beauty and strangle my ability to see or feel or savor or be grateful for what God is giving me right now.

2 Ne 2: 25 ^aAdam ^bfell that men might be; and men ^care, that they might have ^djoy.

I LOVE that verse. God's plan for us is to find joy. How beautiful is that?

Choosing to look at the downside is working at cross purposes with God--never a winning prospect--and, I think, a direct refusal of God's gifts. Hmmm. Gonna have to think some more about that one.

As One

Sitting in sacrament meeting today, amongst those that we've worshipped with for more than a decade, I was struck beyond the ordinary with the power of that gathering publicy showing their desires to always remember Him. Just run-of-the-mill people who mess up, but remember and seek and try again. In thousands of congregations world-wide that sacred ritual was performed today, and grace was sought and found and hearts were filled. It's enough to give one hope beyond measure in this troubled world and it's a beautiful thing.

Jane Austin Got it Right!

This quote from Elder Boyd K. Packer has recently come to my attention and knocked my socks off! (Dean says he's read it to me before, but I, apparently wasn't ready for it, because I didn't remember ever hearing it).

"Romantic love is not only a part of life, but literally a dominating influence of it. It is deeply and significantly religious. There is no abundant life without it. Indeed, the highest degree of the celestial kingdom is unobtainable in the absence of it." (BYU Fireside, Nov. 3, 1963).

I had never thought of romance in that way! "Deeply and significantly religious", I love that! Have you ever thought of God as a romantic? (Coupled, of course, with having all good attributes in perfection, but I think romance truly is one of those attributes!)

The whole concept just makes me happy and is a beautiful thing!

Funk

This is gonna be quick and dirty. The to do list is looming larger than my abilities and I've only given myself ten minutes at the computer, but I want to post about an issue.

I've been in a funk lately. I've been fairly unproductive, with less drive and determination (which means no pounds are leaving my hips and the wedding is only 30 days away! whimper!). The house is messier than average (which is saying something). The meals have been more junk food-ish. The projects I have started have been left half done. My visiting teaching needs a kick start. I've just felt thbthbbbt.

I know that the underlying problem is lack of seeking. You know the kind I mean. The real personal, soul-searching seeking that brings the Spirit into our lives.

In the rush of life, there have been more than the average days missed of scripture reading lately. When I do read, I tend to rush through and say to myself, "There, done with that!"

All this has added up to less joy and peace in my life and who needs that?!

This morning, I determined that it's time to quit going down that dead end road. As I said, my list right now is beyond me, but I put all of that aside. I spent a bit more time on my knees and when I got up, I grabbed, not just my scriptures, but my marking pencils as well. I read, pondered, flipped to cross references, marked and wondered in prayer as I went.

Wow! It's small and will need continued watering, but what a sweet little seed sprouted in my heart this morning!

I love the gospel!! It's such a happy thing in my life!

(and my ten minutes are up!)

Art thou stuffy?

As a child, I was taught that to show reverence and respect, the words thee and thou should be used in prayer, rather than you and yours. I accepted this and it has become my comfortable language of prayer.

It came as a sweet revelation to me when a few years ago I learned the proper usage of thee and thou. Contrary to the now widespread belief that thee and thou are stuffy and formal, the opposite is actually true. When those words were in the common vernacular, you and yours were also used. However, thee and thou were for addressing those closest to us, you and yours for stuffy, formal occasions and when speaking to those whom with you did not have an intimate relationship. In one of our family's favorite books set in the Appalachian mountains during the great depression, Grandpa properly expresses his love for Grandma with the words, "I kin ye, Bonnie Bee."

This past week, much of the world focused on England and we twice heard the words, "I pledge thee my troth." Of course the word thee was used. To say "I pledge you my troth" would imply that I'm marrying you, but I have no deeply held feeling for you and don't know you that well.

If Heavenly Father were an "unknown God", you and your would be sufficient. I think it's a beautiful thing that as we use the language of prayer, we are acknowledging and confirming our intimate relationship Him.

Random Thoughts

I'm taking a break from Christian Connection Thursdays today. I'll bring it back next week, but it's just not happening today and I'm gonna embrace that and move on.

Some thoughts that are dancing around in my brain:

Random thought #1
I sometime wonder if my children are "getting it". Do they understand why we live the way we do? Are they developing a love for, and a desire to be obedient to our Father? Am I providing opportunities for them to come to know God? Am I filling them up with my love so it will be easier for them to recognize His? It's so easy to get caught up in the minutia of life that you don't take time for the big important stuff. You know, cuddles, laughs, pointing out the blessings and savoring them, teaching them in the moment, even if the moment falls in the middle of a rush to get somewhere, asking what's on their mind. I truly believe these are some of the most important things, but they're not the squeeky wheel and so often don't get the "grease". (This random thought was brought to you by the desire to do better)

Random thought #2
The other day, Girlie-Whirl offered family prayer. I think the following is word for word:
Note: She says, Thankly for we thank thee, but what she really means is "please bless". We've worked on it, but she persists and since I wish I were more thankful for the trials and struggles, I haven't tried too hard. Her thankly's are a little whisper of reminder from God (when I let them be).
Henly Father,

We thankly for those that are sad to be happy.We thankly for Mrs. Frandsen's husband. We thankly for Sister Jones. In  the name...
Sweet, simple, direct, and all about others who need help.


Random thought #3
Is it possible to keep an organized house without putting in any effort? I keep desperately searching for a method that will not take time and energy, but alas, I can't find one!

Random thought #4
Having older children call home and "dish" is one of life's great joys!

Gasp! Are you a Utah Mormon?

Although I now live in the midwest, I'm a Utah Mormon. Born there, raised there, lived there for the first thirty-five years of my life. Growing up I would occasionally hear comments about church members outside of Utah (you know, in the mission field! Ooo, exotic!).

After moving to the midwest, I began to notice occasional remarks about Utah Mormons. Probably no more than I'd heard about saints in the "mission field", but being a Utah Mormon, I paid more attention.

For example, not long after my move to the midwest, a truly sweet lady told me she'd heard that Mormons in Utah don't even DO their visiting teaching! She was aghast and wondered if it was really true. It was after that conversation that I began to think in earnest about the issue and pay attention to the stereotypes.

My conclusion, after exhaustive research and study (okay, after mulling the issue over for some time) is that saints are the same regardless of where you live. Shrewd , huh?

In every ward I've lived there have been three types of people. These are my classifications, and may be lacking. If you disagree, write your own post! (Or comment on mine) The following will surely seem judgemental, and probably is. It should also be noted that the classifications are not strict divisions, but more like markers on a continuum. There may be more members between the classifications than actually in them.

People in all three groups attend church meetings on a regular basis, and, I would assume, have testimonies of the gospel.

Here are the three categories:

1. High yield, low maintenance saints (I stole this phrase from a conference talk, but can't remember who said it. My vague memory is that it was Elder Maxwell, but I didn't bother to look it up). From my experience, every ward, whether inside of Utah or out, has a core of workhorse members. Those that give in abundance (at least of their time, and talents, I've never been privy to tithing receipts) and ask for little if anything in return. They work through all but the biggest of their own trials without thinking of asking the ward for help. They are the ones who step up and act when others have a need, accept whatever callings come their way and serve without fanfare. That their testimonies are deep and abiding is evidenced by the way they live quiet lives of service.

2. Luke warmish saints. These are members who, though active, can't necessarily be counted on to follow through when it comes to service. They serve well and lovingly at times, but frequently aren't willing to put forth the effort. (As I write this, my lack of visiting teaching so far this month nags at my conscience). I've known more than one person who started out luke warm and ended up being high yield, low maintenance.

3. High maintenance, low yield saints (reversed the phrase from the conference all by myself!) These are ward members that are repeatedly in need and tend to loudly make their needs known while expecting a crew to come and get them out of their fix. They infrequently are on the giving end of service, but expect to be on the recieving end on a continual basis. I'm not talking about hard working families that have fallen on hard times and, while doing all they can, still need help. These are saints who expect others to do the heavy lifting whenever they're in a bind. I'm happy to say that this group is the smallest of the three.

I've lived in ten wards and each has had individuals running the entire spectrum. I believe that all three groups are necessary. We learn and grow as we interact with each other. And interacting with whiners in a Christ-like manner helps us grow in ways that interacting with fab, fun, folk simply doesn't.

Give me your thoughts. Do you think people are different inside and outside of Mormondom?

When a Rabbi comes to dine.

Our home had the rare opportunity of having a Rabbi as a dinner guest yesterday. The mere thought of it so fired the imagination of Girlie-Whirl that she spoke of nothing else all morning. Her dolls became part of a Jewish themed playtime, she made a card to welcome the Rabbi, and she continually asked me how much longer until he would come.

This opportunity came to us as a result of a two-day Jewish/Mormon Conference held this weekend in our neck of the woods. Hubders had been asked to be the local LDS representative for the question/answer session, and since the Rabbi (from L.A.) wanted to speak in an LDS congregation it was arranged for the two of them to speak at a combined Priesthood/Relief Society in our ward.

Our church starts at 1:00 pm. The Rabbi wanted to meet with Hubders at 11:00 and since he would have to eat somewhere, I had Hubders invite him to dinner, fully expecting him to decline because of kosher issues. But he seemed grateful for the invitation and when asked, said that we could serve anything we wanted; however, since we asked, he didn't eat pork or shell fish and didn't mix meat and dairy. Grateful that I wouldn't have to worry about which bowls I prepared which food in, and that I only had to make minor adjustments (no milk in the mashed potatoes etc), I nevertheless felt the weight of hosting a Rabbi for dinner.

The Rabbi was humble, gracious, personable, and clearly wouldn't have complained regardless what fare we had offered him. He was willing to sit with our family and explain what a Rabbi was and what he did. He consented to offer a blessing on the food (the first motzi ever uttered in our home) and taught us as he did so. He was interested in all our children had to say, even when Girlie-Whirl babbled on about nothing. It wasn't long before my worries over whether the meal was kosher were banished and we simply enjoyed each others company like old friends.

Sunday was one of those huge days for Hubders (you know the kind). He spoke in Sacrament Meeting, it was his week to teach Gospel Doctrine class, he spoke with the Rabbi during priesthood/Relief Society, and then participated in the question/answer discussion at the Jewish/Mormon conference in the evening. He was grateful when it was all over and tried to minimize his roll, but as his wife, I was all sorts of impressed. Gonna have to sew the buttons back on my blouse!!

The sister who introduced Hubders at the conference is a good friend and rather than just read his bio (thank you!--don't you hate it when they just read what's already printed on the program?) she spoke more personally of attending his classes, his depth of scriptural knowledge, his enthusiasm as a teacher, etc and she ended by saying that even after twenty-five years of marriage, he still opens every door for his wife; which he does, but who knew that she'd noticed it! I sat there in the audience and enjoyed hearing someone sing the praises of my man and resolved to take his kindnesses to me less for granted.

The whole weekend was unforgettable. Our family has always had an affinity for Judaism. We own a menorah, shofar, Torah scroll, prayer shawl and yarmulke; and have taught multiple Jewish folk songs to our children. I've loved reading Chaim Potok's The Chosen to my children because I feel it gives them a window into the lives, strugglings and faith of modern Jewry. But our ties to the Jewish community have been enhanced and deepened because of the conference. On Saturday, after the dialogue at the synagogue, I was able to attend the Jewish worship service, which happened to be a Bar Mitzvah. Although much of the service, being mostly in Hebrew, was lost on me, parts of it were deeply moving.

As one who loves the standard works and wants very much to help my children come to understand the power of the word of God, I felt a great kinship there. The Rabbi spoke of their ancestor's love for the Torah. He then took the Torah scrolls out of the ark, handed them to the father, who handed them to the mother, who handed them to the older son, who handed them to Jacob (whose Bar Mitzvah it was), who then held them in his arms and carried them through the aisles of the congregation as members kissed their fingertips and then touched the breastplate of the Torah. Their obvious joy in the scriptures and their desire to pass that joy onto their children is a commonality that transcends dogma.

I hope to continue the dialogue with our Jewish neighbors. I believe it was helpful and interesting to members of both faiths. A Rabbi who sat by Hubders on the stand last night continually asked him questions of clarification as the LDS speaker gave his address. I carried on religious conversations with my daughter-in-law's mother and her grandfather's girl friend (both Jewish), something I never imagined doing. Rabbi Shmuley Boteach said in 2003, "The Mormons are our brothers, the Christians are our kin." After this conference, I feel that familial relationship more than ever and am looking forward to the next family reunion.

I'm still mulling the weekend over in my mind and it will be some time before I feel like I have a handle on all that happened and what it means. The most obvious lesson is that they, like us, truly love God and want to live his law. The differences between our religions which divide us are nothing compared to the similarities which ought to unite us as believers in God and in his word.

The Temple

Hubders and I went to the temple last night. We're lucky enough to live only 20-ish minutes away from one.

I'm at the point where it feels like coming home walking through those doors. I don't go often enough, but I went more last year than I had in a while and I'll up it again this year.

A few of my favorite things about the temple:

The quiet. In a home with multiple children, quiet is a rare luxury that never lasts long during daylight hours. But in the temple, hushed, reverent quiet permeates for the duration of my visit. You can ponder and reflect and be circumspect about where you are and where you're heading without interruption.

The order. I am a cluttered person. I've learned that I can keep an immaculate house (and do when my home is on the market), but cleaning to that level takes over my life and I'm not willing to do that unless I'm in selling mode. I've been working for years to find the happy medium of fairly tidy with enough time for other stuff, but I'm miles away from it. In the temple every thing is white glove clean with nothing out of place. Beauty and order abound everywhere you look.

The fellowship. I never go to the temple without seeing some people that I love, and even the people I don't know seem happy to see me. No one is grumpy or ornery. All of the workers smile and make me feel welcomed. And I never hear a single whine there!

The Spirit. As I ponder and seek and ask in the temple, the joy that comes from above slowly spreads through me seeping into all the crevices and filling me up. I'm always ready to face the world when I walk out the doors and feel happy about my lot in life.

The love. It sounds cliche' but that doesn't make it any less real. In that holy place I feel my Father's love for me and for all his children more abundantly. And both Hubders and I have noticed that we always love each other more after a temple session.

The direction. When I focus on the temple, there is a clarity in my life that it just so helpful! I know what's important and what is not. Little things that tend to sidetrack me are easily dealt with. My husband and children become my all important focus. And as I act on the clarity, I can feel Heavenly Father's approval and know that I can go to Him and he will help me.

All in all going to the temple makes me deep down contented in way that nothing else on earth can.

Now to hang on to that feeling in some measure and replenish all year with frequents visits. That's the goal.

Nauvoo Surprise!

We took the three younger kids out of school Friday and took the fam to Nauvoo so that our newly returned missionary, Ruggles, could see Grandma and Grandpa again! It was their P-day and they planned to spend all day with us, except they had an important meeting that afternoon that they couldn't really tell us about.

We had already decided to spend some time on the temple grounds with our children. Hubders had set us up in three teams and we were to look for the symbolic and decorative things on the temple. Each team had a notebook and we were to sketch, count, and describe each item we found in the notebook. We left for the temple a bit before Mom and Dad's meeting and were enjoying our time there when someone came out of the temple and said that President Monson was inside!

We were there when he came out of the temple, quite a thrill! Hubders took some pictures, and we would have left it at that, but there was a couple standing near us and the wife called out President Monson's name just as he was about to get into the car. He looked up, came over to where we were, and shook all of our hands! There wasn't a crowd, just the couple, the six of us, and, as President Monson turned to go back to his car, a newly married couple and their photographer walked up. He shook their hands and their photographer captured it! Quite the wedding pictures for them!!!

None of us could have imagined that we would get to see the prophet! We didn't even know he was in Nauvoo!! But what a sweet experience for our family!!!

Why I'm a Mormon

(Note: This post liberally uses Mormon lingo which may be unclear for those not of the LDS faith. If you have questions, you can ask me, or click here (an official website of the church), or here, (a fabulous "Ask a Mormon" feature by a trusted fellow blogger).

I love going to church. I love the fellowship, the spiritual uplift, the knowledge gained and the opportunity to serve. One of my favorite things about church is that out of ordinary people doing ordinary things come quite extraordinary blessings.

A quick example from last week. In Sacrament Meeting each Sunday, between speakers we often have a special musical number. This week the Priesthood brethren, Aaronic and Mechizedek, were asked to sing. When it was time, almost half of the congregation stood and went up to the front. They completely filled up and overflowed the choir seats, standing room only. Only three males over twelve years of age were left in the pews.

It was a great mix. Young and old, tall and short, thin and fat,; handsome and homely, rich and poor, confidant and shy, musical and couldn't carry tune in a bucket, stalwart and semi-slacker they all went up and started singing.

They sang We'll Bring the World His Truth. (If you're not familiar with the song, you can listen to it here.) I'm pretty sure they had practiced in Priesthood meeting opening exercises, because everyone seemed familiar with the tune, but there was nothing particularly musical or well done about their presentation. And yet, the impact was immediate and anything but subtle.

It was one of those times when you could palpably feel the power of God and his priesthood. They are just ordinary, garden-variety saints, as Elder Packer once put it, but collectively, what a powerful force for good in this world! Most of those standing up there on Sunday have been a blessing to my family in one way or another over the past nine years. I love these brethren! I love that they have testimonies and try to live them. I love that they try and sometimes mess up, but get back up and try again. I'm grateful that my sons have learned from them, in classrooms and campgrounds. They have helped my husband give blessings and have brought us chocolate as home teachers. I've watched them overcome difficult family situations and watched some of them newly embrace the gospel and press forward on the path with a faith that is beautiful to behold.

And Sunday, they sang. Most of them aren't comfortable with that kind of thing, but they were asked and so they did it. And as they sang, they bore a powerful witness of the truthfulness of the gospel that the spirit carried into the hearts of those who listened and we were filled, and lifted and blessed.

This is part of why I'm a Mormon. And I love this church!!!

By Small and Simple Things

I love the LDS hymns. Nothing brings the Spirit of the Lord and the peace that always follows, into my heart quicker than the singing of hymns. My testimony has been strengthened more in church by the singing of hymns than by listening to the sermons given. (Is that terrible to admit? Maybe so, but it's nevertheless true). There is something about sacred words put to music that bespeaks holiness and sinks the reality of the truths sung deep into my heart and soul. Truly "the song of the righteous is a prayer unto me" [Doctrine and Covenants 25:12]; and many's the time that my heartfelt singing of hymns has been answered with "a blessing upon (my) head".

We went to choir practice after church the other day, something I really didn't want to do. I was tired. We were all hungry. I had to drag all of the kids with me, and two of the three really didn't want to go. But we went. We only sang two songs, both hymns of the restoration. As we sang I again felt the witness that our Redeemer truly is our "shadow by day and our pillar by night" That he saves us today, just a literally and readily as he saved ancient Israel. That the "tokens already appear" and so, we can be sure that "the hour of redemption is near." It's all stuff that I already know and love, but to have it reafirmed as we sang was a sweet and tender mercy from a loving Father.

It's interesting to me that the spirit speaks so powerfully in such quiet ways. No one sitting near me had any idea that anything beautiful and sweet was being experienced nearby, but I came away from that practice refreshed, uplifted and more sure than ever that God is intimately acquainted with me and my struggles. All just from a hymn. "By small and simple things..." [Alma 37:6].

Taking time and feeling guilt

I've had some thoughts wandering around in my brain for a few weeks that I hadn't found time to write down. Blogging yesterday, I read Mommy Snark's latest on writing and that was the catalyst to get me started. I love that she's actually written a book. What a beautiful thing! And I believe it's wonderful in God's eyes whether or not anyone else ever enjoys reading it. (It should be noted that comments on her blog from those who HAVE read the manuscript are very positive and I hope to have the opportunity to read it for myself someday.) You can read her post here

My thoughts have been on creating and writing and learning and growing, and the smiles I feel from above as I make the attempt to do these things. Every time I purposefully embark on a new learning/growing experience, I palpably feel my Heavenly Father's approval, and this is true whether or not anything actually comes of the attempt. I first noticed this years ago when my husband, observing that I had an interest, bought for me the equipment needed to tune a piano. He suggested that I hire a tuner that would be willing to show me the ropes as they worked on ours. I found one and jumped in. As I proceeded, I felt a great sense of well-being about the process; a sense that my Heavenly Father was tickled pink that I was actively growing and learning something new just because I wanted to. Other things came up, and it mostly fizzled (please do NOT ask me to tune your piano!), but I was intrigued by the message from above.

That feeling has been repeated recently as I've signed up for and started training for a half triathlon, joined and then taken over responsibility for a book club, actively pursued increasing my sign language skills, and now I feel it about blogging of all things! Although I've thought about and wanted to write a book since high school, I have been loathe to start. The actual writing process was always drudgery to me in high school and I've avoided writing as much as possible in the intervening years. But blogging now has this hold on me that I need to explore. I've been pleasantly surprised at how much I'm enjoying this writing thing, and once again, I feel God nudging me forward to, literally, heaven knows where.

I , of course, feel God's approval as I try to be a better wife and mother, serve more diligently in my church, or help out the sick and needy, but for some reason, the immediate inner blessings of peace and approval, for taking "me time" to grow and learn just for the joy of it, were a real surprise to me. A sweet, happy surprise. I know it shouldn't have been. He is, after all, our Father. And being a father with all good attributes in full, he obviously wants me to learn and grow and find joy. I think I got caught up in all the selfless things that we're called on to do and had learned, rightly, to find joy in them most of the time. Doing things just for me seemed to be somewhat of a guilty pleasure, a necessary evil; something that I should minimize as much as possible. (Don't get me wrong I do it all the time, but I feel a bit selfish for it.) To learn that actively pursuing things just for me is heartily approved of by the Lord is a sweet and beautiful thing. (and a bit of a "duh" moment!)

So I'm pressing forward with writing, fitting it in between loads of laundry, doing dishes, and reading to my preschooler. I don't know where it will lead, probably not to a finished manuscript, but, at minimum to some improved writing skills, to more knowledge, and definitely to more joy. And that's a beautiful thing!

Paradigm Shift

Occasionally, something happens that rocks your world, and nothing is quite the same. I think that’s just happened to me, in a good way. I’m still thinking over the ramifications, but I'm already seeing some impact in our family.

Last night Hubders was reading aloud to me. It was from the book titled: "Strengthening our Families: An In-Depth Look at the Proclamation on the Family". He read me an essay by Kristine Manwaring called: "My Home as a Temple"(pg. 94-96). As she recounted her frustration at her attempts to make her home a sacred place, I felt she had read my thoughts and put them down on paper

Excerpts from her essay are in a different font. The rest are my words.

"Only the home can compare with the temple in sacredness" the LDS Bible Dictionary (p.781)" She wrote about how she tried to make her home sacred like the temple (clean, orderly, quiet) and her frustration at her inability to make it so. She eventually started to resent some of the things homes are meant for (cooking and laundry, for instance) because they made messes. Even children coming home from school, resulted in more disarray. She said: "The harder I pushed my family to fit my narrow definition of sacred, the more anxious and less temple-like we all felt"

She came to realize that "the work of feeding, clothing and nurturing one another is every bit as spiritual as it is physical... that when ordinary, life-sustaining tasks are done together as a family, they bind family members to one another in small but critical ways. Tasks that had previously been viewed as "obstacles to sacredness" came to be seen as sacred, in and of themselves. The author came to understand that she doesn’t need to make her home sacred. "The sacredness is somehow already there."

Still quoting the essay:

"My husband and I no longer simply delegate chores to our children each day. We wash dishes and make beds alongside them. By doing so, we have been blessed with opportunities to teach our children and be taught ourselves with a frequency and a depth we previously never imagined...It is only when doing dishes together that my twelve-year-old son, who mostly speaks in monosyllables about his experiences at school, reveals who his friends are and why he has chosen them, the pressure he feels about his grades, how much he likes math, and what he thinks about his teacher. Paradoxically, what I previously labeled "mindless" and once thought of as interruptions to spiritual growth are becoming the core of what makes my home feel sacred."

There was more to her essay, but I’ve included here the parts that spoke the most intensely to my soul. Both Hubders and I changed some things in our interaction with our children today. The difference was immediate, tangible and sweet.

In the past, I’ve always looked at chores as something to finish as quickly as possible so that we can play and have some together time. I did chores with the kids only at first; to teach them how to do it. Once they understood how to perform a chore, they were pretty much on their own; they’d do their chores, while I did mine so that we could then go and do what we really wanted. I now realize that I’ve been going about it all wrong!!! A big part of our together time should be in the chores. So, this morning, I told Girlie-whirl that her and Mommy were going to fold her clothes and put them away together. We went upstairs and folded together. She talked to me about some things that happened in primary on Sunday and we giggled together as I kept tossing unders on her head. It only took about ten minutes, but they were ten of the sweetest minutes she and I had had for days (and we'd had some good ones). As we walked back downstairs, and I pondered what had just happened, I knew that those ten minutes had been sacred in a very real way.

Last night, after reading, Hubders said he felt he needed to start helping the kids with their before-dinner-jobs. So, while Girlie-whirl and I fixed dinner and Bikey-boy set the table, Hubders and Banana-girl emptied the dishwasher. Nothing earth-shattering happened, there was just a nice feeling as the whole family chatted and worked together. It was one of those moments that actually fit the song: "There is Beauty All Around, When there’s Love at home".

We’ll have to see where all of this leads, but my heart tells me, and the Spirit seems to affirm, that we’re on to something big and beautiful here.

Feel free to share if you have any thoughts, or experiences on the subject.

Elder Uchtdorf

I'm avoiding laundry and dishes, but you know how the internet is. You get on to do one quick thing, and then you keep doing just one more thing, and before you know it--it's been an hour! (or more!) Before I go be productive I wanted to post this link to Mormon Messages on You Tube. I LOVE the one titled Create!!! It's sooo true!! Watch it--you'll be glad you did!

Here's the link:

http://www.youtube.com/MormonMessages