Homema . . . . Enrichme . . . . Relief Society?

Is it just me, or did anybody else only quit calling it “Homemaking” a few months ago? And what is the second counselor in Relief Society called now? The Sister Formerly Known as the Home Family and Personal Enrichment Counselor? And did I hear correctly? The Enrichment Leader is now the "Organizer?"

Still, all snark aside, Saturday night’s general Relief Society meeting was wonderful. It made me glad that I waited to post on the following comment from Caitlin:

“I have a question for you in regards to Relief Society and Young Women. We have both been Enrichment Leaders and 1st Councilor in YW, so I know you will understand where I am coming from. I think sometimes the RS sisters get a little frustrated with the YW leader attendance, or lack thereof, to Enrichment meetings. Those who haven't served with the youth often don't realize how often we are gone from our families. At minimum I am gone one night a week and it just goes up from there. Do you attend any of the group meetings, or do you just go quarterly? Also- do you have a hard time justifying to yourself or to your family, being gone an "extra" night during the week to attend a RS meeting? Just curious.”

There were a few insights I gained on Saturday night, and I had a bit of a paradigm shift about my role as a Relief Society member now that I am in the Young Women’s organization. Let me start by putting some of my experiences in context:

For the majority of the time that we lived in Houston, I served in the YW. I also ran a tutoring business from my home. Because I always had to clear my schedule for Wednesday nights, I pretty much worked every Monday, Tuesday and Thursday night. This was when those extra-Sunday meetings were held every month. My friend, Forecast Calls for Rain, was the Enrichment Leader for something like three years. Our ward was very committed, so she had a good committee who mostly didn’t have other callings, but it also meant that she had to plan for an average of about 50 at Enrichment night.

Very occasionally, I would be called by some very well-meaning sister on the food committee to bring a specific thing to Enrichment. This always presented a frustrating dilemma for me. I believed that saying “no” to such a request was contrary to me sustaining that person in their calling. Yet, at the same time, my own calling was so demanding! Also, because of my tutoring, I very rarely attended homemaking; or if I did, I went as the sisters were cleaning up and found some of the stragglers to chat with.

I was never sure if the food committee really wanted my food, or if they were using the request as a ploy to make me attend as they were blissfully ignorant of my reason for staying away. In the request, I always heard an accusation. So I would begrudgingly say “yes,” and bring my food to the church or a committee member earlier in the day, and still not attend. The following week when it was time to do an activity or to teach a lesson, I’d always feel a great urge to call somebody on the food committee and ask them to come and do a part of a my lesson or teach the girls to sew or wait at the church with them when their parents are an hour late coming to pick them up, or just listen to them gripe for thirty minutes.

I know, I know, the pioneers buried their babies walking across the plains in blistering heat and freezing cold and I’m grumbling about throwing together a cake mix AND THEN HAVING TO DRIVE IT FIVE MINUTES TO THE CHURCH TO DROP IT OFF.

It is just that the cake seems so irrelevant. How does such an act, particularly one I don’t want to do, build my faith?

Fast-forward to my three years working with the Enrichment Committee where we hustled like crazy to get the sisters to attend. We made a comprehensive effort to be sure all the sisters knew about our quarterly meetings—fliers in monthly newsletters with a name on the front of each, personal announcements in both Young Women’s and Primary, separate sign-up sheets in each auxiliary where there were women, weekly reminders for the upcoming week’s activities on a ¼ page handout nearly every week, personal phone calls before each quarterly enrichment—the women in our ward knew when each activity was and that they were needed, loved and welcome.

Our attendance ticked up slightly. Even after all that work, not to mention the work on the activity itself. I was very frustrated. In the last few months as Enrichment Leader I realized that I had to stop making the attendance thing about me. You know: Do they not like me? I worked so hard and now nobody will come! What could they have going that is possibly more important that this thing I spent so much time one? What is wrong with their husbands that they won’t watch the kids one night a month . . . .etc. etc.

Once again I find the shoe on the other foot, but this time I’ve come to a few conclusions, and Saturday night’s meeting really helped me with this.

The current design of the Home, Family and Personal Enrichment program was (and is) an effort to better suit the needs of the sisters. The quarterly meetings should benefit a broader base of sisters; the midweek and (usually) monthly activities should target more specific needs that benefit smaller groups. The key is understanding the needs of the sisters. (Sister Beck’s comments from a few years back on the sister’s needs are worth close scrutiny. I would leave the link here, but I'm having trouble finding the exact talk I'm looking for.)

There have been unintended downsides to this program—if a ward isn’t very careful, the midweek activities turn into cliques that are very hard for new members to integrate themselves into. If an activity is advertised in RS on Sunday, many of the women attach a certain set of expectations to it, which may or may not be reasonable. In my current ward it also meant that much creativity was dropped from Enrichment planning in exchange for the four activities seen as traditional: a March birthday party with a big meal; a mid-summer garden party with a big meal; a “Souper” Saturday wherein you sign up for pricey crafts or more stamped cards to make for yourself or give away as Christmas presents; the fourth quarterly activity is a Christmas party with, wait for it, a big buffet-style meal and a program. What about humanitarian activities? We can’t do that! Nobody will come.

Charity never faileth. Except when it does.

Don’t get me wrong: the ward I live in now is full of amazing people who do behind-the-scenes service all the time that has nothing to do with a calling. But I think the collective service we can offer as RS sisters is unifying and is a positive way for our church to make a mark on our community. Particularly in communities where the Church is unknown and/or unpopular.

Before I tangent too far from the original subject, here is the first thing that struck me so hard from Saturday night’s meeting: Sister Beck emphasized again and again the need for the RS presidencies to be prayerful about the needs of the sisters and then act accordingly. And yet, do I know what my OWN needs are in regards to this grand organization? In regards to my life? I get so practiced at going through the motions of daily living that I forget to stop and evaluate WHY exactly I am doing some of the things I am doing. What things are truly bringing me closer to Christ? And how do I define that for myself? As I approach my involvement with Relief Society activities from now on, that will be my first question—does this activity fill a need for me?

Two different talks, expressed this same basic concept, “You need Relief Society/Church and the RS/Church needs you!” Understanding my own needs will help me to define when a Relief Society meeting falls into that first category. For example, a woman I know stopped attending our RS book group about a year ago as it wasn't fulfilling her needs. She found too many of the book picks offensive and the discussion was not as uplifting as she had hoped--as perhaps it should have been. However, some dramatic changes in her life have caused her to think that she needs book group again—both as an evening out and as an “excuse to read.” (Yes, yes, apparently some people need excuses to read!) Same activity; different season. So, no Caitlin, if I truly believe it is an activity that I need, I never feel guilty for attending.

I think it is the “Church-needing-you-activities” that we have to be more careful about staying away from, regardless of our other callings or how enjoyable we think it will be. Jenny presented a beautiful post a few months back about a service opportunity her ward had taken at a local “shop” which provided gently-used clothing to the homeless. The turn-out from her ward was pitiful compared to the safe-dinners-at-the-meetinghouse type activities, but the lessons learned were invaluable and eternal. I think each person has to decide if a particular activity or task falls into this essential, second category; but if we are staying home from activities that give opportunity to perform meaningful service for someone truly in need, then we better make sure that what we put ahead of such service it is pretty darn important.

And no, I’m not sure that the Church needs me to bring canned peaches in orange Jell-O to an activity, so please don’t ask.

So, my first conclusion is that it is my responsibility to prayerfully figure out my needs; secondly that I should find time to attend activities that truly bring me closer to Christ and activities that give me meaningful service opportunities. Now for the last powerful thing I took away from Saturday’s meeting.

Before President Eyring’s talk, I hadn’t realized that it was the Relief Society that was the driving force behind the creation of the Young Women’s organization. And I had an epiphany. I think nearly every talk mentioned in some fashion that Relief Society was organized after the manner of the priesthood; even Joseph Smith acknowledged the incompleteness of the Church until the women were “thus organized.” Brother Joseph originally wanted the RS to be selective, allowing only members of a certain worthiness to participate—sounds a lot like the priesthood doesn’t it? Now, let’s look a little closer at the brother-organization of the Priesthood—Aaronic and Melchezidek—the preparatory and the higher law. Isn’t it possible that Young Women’s and Relief Society can also be seen as sister organizations? The lower in preparation for the higher? Young Women’s as a tutorial for a lifetime of service as a woman in the Church?

Now, taking this further, just as my husband always holds the priesthood regardless of his other callings, I need to hold the spirit of Relief Society in my heart, regardless of my other callings. Plantboy's callings are often priesthood callings. Can’t I also view my YW calling as a RS calling? I may not be able to attend Relief Society meetings (Sunday or otherwise) very often, but it doesn’t meant that I’m not fulfilling the mission of Relief Society in every particular by magnifying my calling to serve their daughters—to train the next generation of sisters. What did Sister Thompson say? For all of her cherished goals that didn’t come true, the most important one did—to stay true to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. THAT is the best gift we can give our young people. And valiant young people are the very best thing we can give to the Church.

This realization also helped me view my Young Women in a new light on Sunday. In just a few short years, these lovely “girls” will no longer be just the kids I teach. They will be my sisters in the Relief Society—they will be moms with young babies in need of connection to older generations, they will be young single adults navigating their place in the Church, they will be making decisions and having trials that will require a vast support-system of sister-love.

At the end of Elder Eyring’s excellent talk on the history of Relief Society, he explained that this legacy cannot just be told in words, but that it must be passed heart to heart. I have no daughters to give this gift too. So, for now, loving my Young Women wholeheartedly and committing my Church-time to them is the very best service I can give the Relief Society.

Oh, and visiting teaching.

Validation

Book group started badly.

I was a few minutes late myself, and when I got to our hostess' house, there was only one other guest, and the hostess was on the phone. I could tell from the conversation that three of our regulars were unable to come. Including the sister who was going to lead our discussion. And the person she had called to replace herself.

I sat on the couch feeling more and more uncomfortable by the minute. You know in novels how they talk about people rearranging their features in order to mask their true emotions? I felt this sensation more acutely than I have in years. Relieved to not have to be the center of attention? Embarrassed that nobody was coming? Foolish for having thought this could be a good idea? Selfish for all the other things people scheduled in front of my agenda? You get the picture. Hardly a feeling passed through my brain in ten very uncomfortable minutes that was appropriate to express.

Four more trickled in--two who had read it; two who stopped coming to book group early last year because of serious criticism over book picks and the resulting discussions, and had not read the manuscript.

The study questions that the moderator and I had worked on together, and which she was going to present, were stored safely at home on my hard drive and I stared rather stupidly at MY book that I haven't read in its entirety for months. Rational thoughts flew out the window and I shared a little bit about the process of writing this story and the literal years and tears and hundreds of hours that went into it.

But I was also quick to acknowledge many sisters in the room with amazing talents, saying that any great skill that is worth showing off is often the result of much more than talent, some of it is just vast amounts of time and practice. I also wanted to help the sisters understand that this project is essentially a conversion story, and that each of us, just by being in that cozy living room last night had a conversion story that was worth telling. Like Alma tells Abish at the end of my story,

"The visit from that angel was seen by many as a miracle. But to me, the real miracle is what took place in my soul in the days that followed. I know God can snatch a man from the very jaws of Hell and redeem him if he will but decide to follow. The real story of the gospel is not a record of how many thousand men uttered Lamoni’s covenant and buried their weapons; it is one man who loves God so much he would risk all he has in faith to never again disobey the commandments."

While it is exciting and wonderful to think about the growth of the Church into so many countries and how far the Church has come since its origins, I think the real power of the gospel is in the lives of individuals and in the testimonies of its members.

I paraphrased the above and sort of ended with my words hanging. One sister in our group whom I will love forever and ever if only for the following comment, "I loved this book. It got right to the heart of how simple the gospel is. It made me want to live it better."

The tears that smarted this time were not the stupid self-pitying ones that started the evening, this time I felt so joyful. All of the time and effort and work that went into the novel was worth it for that alone. Maybe I DO have something to say that might help somebody else. For those many, many of you out there who have ever encouraged me in this frustrating journey, please know how much your lovely friendships have meant to me.

I don't know, and probably doubt, that my novel will ever be published, at least for some great number of years. Cedar Fort published this in April. Remembering my rejection letter from them almost 18 months ago made such a discovery bittersweet. But do I have the courage to find out that my very best effort rated a mere 3.83 out of five stars? And only got SIX reviews? Amazon's reviews were a little better--but there are only THREE reviews there. Friends of the author. I don't know about the picture they chose. I think Abish is too pretty, and she is wearing enough make up to make RuPaul blush.

But I do know this: writing Abish was worth every minute. It was worth it for the testimony I gained of the reality of the Book of Mormon. It was worth it for the boost and revitalization this story has given a few others. It was worth it if only to know that I could see something through to completion. As awesome as publishing would be, I think there are few things that could compare to the sweetness of the Spirit I felt in our book group last night when we talked about the beautiful simplicity of the gospel when so much church culture is stripped away and we ask ourselves what it really means to be born again.

Crabby

I came into September WAY over-committed, and sure enough, I was sick by the end of the first week. My baby started with the nursery cough just a few days into the month. (You know nursery cough--it is the illness that starts three days after Sunday.) He had no other symptoms, just a persistent cough. Less than a week later I caught it. A week after that Plantboy caught it. Then Jedi Master. Finally, Padawan came down with it a few days ago. But the BABY is still sick. I bought my fourth round of children's cough medicine this morning. I went to the doctor last week and thought I was kicking it, but then I spent most of yesterday coughing. Today started off better, but I'm now coughing up again. I cough so hard my head aches and I worry I'll wet my pants. Right, TMI.

I guess all of this explains the lack of blogging. My energy is low right now and my depression high. I would love nothing more than to crawl into bed for about three days and hope to wake up cured on the other side. But life goes on, and this month it certainly did. With a vengeance.

The first week of the month I helped our YW put on a modesty fashion show for all the girls in the stake. It turned out wonderful (forgot my camera) and was so much fun. I think we really helped to re-energize some girls on church and activity attendance and they felt like superstars. It was a really fun and positive way to approach modesty, which too often seems like a list of don'ts. If you are serving in YW right now and want details about this awesome activity, please feel free to email me. One of our girls completed her Choice and Accountability goal while helping, but I am sure we could have given two girls ten hours. Of course, all of this is retrospect. If you had asked me one month ago how this particular activity was going, I probably would have ripped out a big chunk of my hair and stuffed it down your throat.

The same week I finished making my parents' anniversary movie. It also turned out great, but it was not without a lot of blood sweat and tears. If you ever plan to do anything in Windows Movie Maker, first of all, DON'T. Secondly, if you DO, please contact me or one of any number of trouble shooting websites first. If your movie is going to be longer than about ten minutes and/or have music, some helpful pointers are in order. Otherwise, you'll find yourself at midnight the day before your deadline re-importing 500 pictures, desperately trying to find all the files and getting them in the correct order in time to your music, though you had already spent weeks doing this very thing. Another project that, in the end, I'm so glad I was a part of, but if you had asked me how it was going on September first, my response would have made the hairball down your throat thing seem downright appealing.

Oh, yeah, and that same week I spoke in Stake Conference. I tried to load the talk here, but it didn't want to cut and paste my footnotes and I didn't think it was worth entirely dismantling the talk in order to post it. Again, if you are interested, feel free to e-mail. And yes, thank you very much, I DO put footnotes on my talks.

And with all of these goings on, we still managed to recreate plenty this month. We started the month with pirate-Star Wars-dart guns. Yes, it is all the same game. Aren't my pirates adorable? I mean, really tough and scurvy?






On Labor Day, some friends invited us to go crabbing with them on the coast. Their dad owns a small fishing boat and this is one of their favorite past-times, especially when they have somebody new to take. Not a big fan of shellfish, but you can't live in Oregon and turn down an opportunity to go crabbing, right?



Crab in a net. He is a little bit tricky to see, but he is there in the bottom. The trap works by putting a bunch of meat in the bottom--we used chicken because other ocean creatures don't like it the way they do fish--lowering the trap, waiting fifteen minutes and then hoisting it up. It was a great day for crabbing and a gorgeous day for chilling on the beach.


Jedi spent a lot of time in the boat, usually riding shotgun and shouting directions. Here he is looking over the water at the sea lions we caught playing out in the bay. How cool is that?


This starfish came up in one of the nets. He is bigger than anything we were able to hold the day we went tide pooling. Isn't it cool?


Yo ho ho and a bucket o'crabs.


Bridge in Newport. There is a science center and a really great aquarium just under the bridge. Last year we also had great fish n' chips Newport. Fun spot. Less than two hours from home. When are you coming to visit us? (Bring the hand sanitizer and the face masks!)



Crabby, indeed. This part freaked out Padawan a little bit, but they move pretty slow and sideways. The males tended to be a lot more aggressive. We slowed them down by tipping them onto their backs. Then, in a move that just about made me a vegetarian, our resident crab fisherman placed them, shell side down, on the edge of the cleaning sink at the public docks and with a strategic thump, cracked their shells and killed them. The meat is mostly in the top of the legs, so the legs were ripped out with all the lumpy white crab meat on the top and put in the "keep" bucket. We (I use this pronoun very loosely) washed some of the shells out for the kids to take home and tossed the rest.






The little girl is our friends' daughter. She and Padawan are BFF. It is pretty cute actually. We all stopped at McDonald's on the way home. There is nothing like having no idea about the source of your meat to make it more palatable. Neither Plantboy or I were able to stomach the crab cakes too well. It was disappointing really--picking the bits of crab off the legs after boiling was arduous and extremely stinky work.


In classic Oregon tradition, school started the day after Labor Day. Here is Jedi in his Star Wars Lego shirt. And if I haven't mentioned it 85 times already, we DO love Star Wars Legos. He came home from school, filled with stories about all the kids who admired his shirt. "But mom, only half the girls did. The rest didn't even know about Star Wars." Poor little lasses.


Later that week, Jeff went fishing and caught this gorgeous salmon. He brought it home at 5:30 pm on ice, showed, changed his clothes, and we took off for Stake Conference. When I got home from dropping our babysitter at the stake dance (a condition of her employment), Jeff had this baby cut in half and the house smelling of the ocean for the second time in a week. I took one look at him and told him that if he planned on slaughtering a chicken or a cow in the backyard then I was done with meat for good. So many sea-creature guts and smells make beans very appetizing. I don't think I would have cut it as a pioneer.

Still, the salmon was quite a bit more palatable than the crab cakes and we had a delicious dinner on Sunday. We also found out on Sunday that one of our sister missionaries, who has been here about four months, was getting transferred. She has a larger-than-life, very fun personality and I have had several teaching opportunities with her. As a farewell present, I told her and her companion that for their last p-day we needed to tie-dye tee shirts as a real Eugene-thing. Her companion made a cool logo to commemorate her time on the Oregon "coast" and I bought computerized iron-ons and a tie-dye kit. My white Chipotle shirt was already getting a bit manky under the arms, so I dyed it. Here is the result:


Cool hey? The kit only had red, yellow and blue in it, but it was quite strategically placed I think. I've tie dyed a couple of times before, but this was probably my most psychedelic result. It was also a lot of fun. I think that I am going to do this with all of our future visitors. So Eugene.




The Youngling is cute in his little hat. He is our budding jock. He wants to carry around a ball of some type all day every day. And though he is starting to actually get some language, the word "ball" is still the first word he used and the plainest. We tried to get him to pose in these shots, but he was just too busy. His cuteness definitely translates better to movie.


We've had a few early autumn days of Indian summer this week. The warm weather allowed our late-in-the-ground corn time to ripen. The boys harvested this yesterday. Each ear was over a foot long, worm free and had amazingly sweet, tiny kernels. It might just be the best corn I've ever had. Ever. Really. (Padawan is wearing his tie-dyed shirt too. He tells me that he wants to wear it every day from now on. I'll have to hope for a growth spurt.) But the picture I'm going to leave you with is the ultimate late summer piece-de-resistance dish. These are four different colors of carrots from our garden--three different oranges, yellow and purple. I sauteed them in olive oil and butter just until tender, threw in a handful of pine nuts (not many, these puppies just shot from $12 to $17 per pound this month) and stir-fried just until toasted. I poured them into the white bowl and threw on some fresh basil. Oh, boy, were they fabulous. And SO pretty.


I like to think that October will slow down so that I can get better and not feel quite so crabby. But October brings an 8th birthday, out of town visitors, swimming lessons two nights each week, a baptism, Halloween and Young Women. Always Young Women. I love it. Really. Because most of our girls are Mia-Maids we only have a presidency, no advisors and we meet together for everything. This is both good and bad--I plan and execute every third activity and lesson, which is very doable. But you know how the youth program is! Besides the activities and lesson there are dances to chaperone, firesides every month, quarterly temple trips, service projects, monthly sleepovers, personal progress. . . . . it looks like the two year-old will nap today.

What do they say? Sleep when the baby sleeps.

Oh, and my book group is meeting tomorrow to discuss my book. I feel like I'm going to puke a little bit every time I think of it. I'll let you know how it goes.

I'll leave the word verification on for another week. I need another entry or two before ending the contest. (See last post.)

Balderdash!

What with three major projects completed and under my belt last week, the kids going back to school, and horrible cough that has been hounding me for two weeks, I'm feeling a bit less than creative, or thoughtful or interested. So instead, I'm going to test YOUR creativity. And give prizes.

For this post ONLY I've turned on that pesky (hm, useless!) word verification for the comments section. To enter the contest, you open the comments section and create a definition for the word verification word that shows up. I will award one prize at random (yes, even if your definition is totally lame you can still win a prize) and one prize for the one that gives me the biggest laugh-out-loud. Because, oh, yeah, I'm desperately in need of a laugh.

Contest ends when we hit forty comments; you can enter twice. Happy balderdashing.

And now I'm off to change a poopy diaper.

It's Fun to Stay at the YMCA

I used to watch the show Dharma and Greg regularly, or at least the re-runs. Like Seinfeld and The Ofice, it is another show that I didn't really catch the charms of until well-past the time the originals aired.

This post isn't really about the show, just a particular clip, but a little bit of background is in order so that it makes sense. Dharma and Greg is about a couple (coincidentally named Dharma and Greg) who pass each other on the street one day after both have just fallen out of very serious and deeply unsatisfying relationships. Greg is highly attracted to Dharma (and honestly, Jenna Elfman with the 90's haircut? who can blame the guy) and she senses some kind of cosmic connection-love-at-first-sight with him. He lets her pass by, but she tracks him down at his office. He is completely smitten, takes the rest of the day off and they spend the next 24 hours together, culminating in a wedding. This takes us to halfway through the first episode.

The gimmick in the show is what happens when two people who really don't know each other at all get married. Dharma's parents are hippies--not WERE hippies--are hippies. Greg's parents, on the other hand, are from one of the richest society families in San Fransisco. And while Dharma and Greg are not as extreme as mums and daddies, there is a lot of argument (and eventually give and take) about how things are "supposed" to be done, emphasizing that no marriage is made up of perfect people who have it all figured out.

During the second season Dharma and Greg decide to adopt a baby. Or rather, Dharma spontaneously tells the checkout girl at the market that she can live with them until the baby comes, delivers the baby at their apartment, then agrees to adopt the baby after the single teenage mother has a complete emotional breakdown. Greg is told about each AFTER it happens, and Dharma is a little bit confused about what his beef is.

So that is the background. When the baby moves in, any prior differences pale in comparison to their differences in parenting. Dharma's mother reminds her daughter that Dharma basically grew up in a commune because "it takes a village." When her mother and father show up to help, they bring a whole entourage of people with them--a spiritual advisor/storyteller, a feminist with a cooler full of breastmilk, an African shaman with a drum--you get the drill. The funniest clip in the episode is here, when we meet the village and see the way they take over the lives of this young couple. Ironically enough, though Greg doesn't understand the village concept and its importance to his mother-in-law, he himself had a nanny, a cook, a maid and various tutors. Later there was boarding school and lessons. Not Dharma's village, but a village nevertheless.

In a comment some time back Genjunky said "not that it takes a village . . . " when talking about raising kids. I think she means that we can't abdicate our responsibilities as parents to the community. We can't think that church or school or the government or whatever will parent for us. Yet, I'm not entirely convinced that it doesn't take a village.

Now, I'm not talking about a Dharma-style village here. But to some degree don't we all have stake in one another's welfare? For example, some of my earnest commitment to the young women in our ward right now is the idea that some day my boys will need scoutmasters who take their callings seriously. Yet, every minute I spend with those girls, is time spent away from my own family; which, I must admit is sometimes very frustrating. As a teacher I sometimes found myself spending a lot of extra time and energy on students, just trying to teach them basic skills that, in my mind, should have been taught at home. Also frustrating.

In Mr. Obama's health care speech this week he finished by quoting a letter from the late Senator Kennedy. Mr. Kennedy's letter makes it clear that he believed that making sure all Americans had access to health care was a litmus test of the American character. I think that Kennedy was saying that it takes a village.

I'm not sure. But I do know this: My brother and sister each had new babies in the past month. It is still a while to go before I see them, and I feel sad that I may not get to see them grow up. As my friends get older, we seem to have a much harder time connecting with one another in meaningful ways because we are so busy. I remember my peer groups in Texas and Utah (where we, incidentally, lived at "The Village") who were so close to one another. I had a ready list of women to call if we needed something, anything. I have a couple of friends here like that, but our ward is geographically spread out and there is very little spontaneous hanging out or stopping by. My parents and in-laws are wonderful people whom I wish had more regular interaction with my kids. Plantboy is headed to the temple tonight on his own because it is too hard to find a babysitter for a big chunk of the day so that we can go together. And while our local school is wonderful, there are no children younger than middle school on our entire street.

I don't want somebody else to raise my kids, of course not. But for all that we love about our current location I don't know if there is enough of a support system for us to raise our kids here--particularly though their turbulent teenage years. Maybe it doesn't take a village, but I'm not sure I'm strong enough without one.

He That Hath the Spirit of Contention Is Not of Me

My first title for this was, "Because, yeah, encouraging kids to work hard and stay in school is REALLY subversive." Then I realized that the whole point of writing this is that after the past few weeks I feel like I've had enough negativity to last a lifetime. So I've tried to eliminate all sarcasm and cutting from the following. If this makes me less entertaining, well, perhaps it makes me less offensive too. And, whatever else you may think, I have no wish to offend.

So let me start with a disclaimer: If you are going to pull your children from school on Tuesday so that they cannot be "brainwashed" by our president, that is your right, of course. I wanted to make that statement right off the bat as I was told on Facebook yesterday by a mother I didn't know that it was her God-given right to control everything her child learned. While I wish her luck with that, I bring up her comment to illustrate just how strongly people feel about this.

Now, if you are keeping your kids home Tuesday because you have studied what is available about the speech, or because you are disturbed by the lesson plan your child's teacher is planning on presenting with the speech, then I commend you for your research and the obvious concern you have for your child. I don't know if it is a God-given right to control each thing that enters your child's head or not (I'm not sure about the scriptural backing for this statement), but it certainly is your right to parent how you wish.

However, if you are pulling your child on Tuesday because of something you heard a television or news radio host say, or because you disagree with Mr. Obama's policies, or because you have been reading opinion columns, I would ask that you reconsider. Here is my reasoning:

1--There is a shocking lack of respect from children in this country for adults in general and particularly for people in positions of power. To teach your children that all respect must be "earned" by some arbitrary set of principles that involves others agreeing with all of your dearly held ideals is to deny the fact that each person is a child of God. Whether you agree with Mr. Obama or not, even in every particular, I am guessing that he has done nothing to offend you personally. I'm guessing that if he were invited to your house for dinner you would find him affable and friendly, optimistic, and eager to talk with great affection about his kids. Naturally, you would avoid politics and religion, but dignified acquaintance demands that these topics not be discussed anyway.

Using negative and incendiary language around your young children about local or national political leaders confuses and hurts them. After all, they are reprimanded severely if they use such language about children they know and interact with. You might think that you are merely passing on political ideaology to your children, but it is important to be very aware of what else you might be teaching them.

2--I believe that running negative talk radio shows or television in your home that involves hosts who shout, berate, belittle and constantly criticize drives the Spirit away. Even if the host of such programs is LDS. If you disagree with this, please find the titled reference in 3rd Nephi in the Savior's initial sermon to the Nephites. He is very plain about the source of the spirit of contention. Children are especially sensitive to the spirit of contention; indeed, it is the opposite of the Holy Ghost. There is nothing wrong with you listening in your car, or after bedtime with your spouse, particularly if such programs lead to mature discussion of ideals and principles that you either agree or disagree with. You wouldn't allow violent or rude cartoons into your home, how much more confusing and even scary is it for children who see and hear talk show hosts using almost violent terms as they urge people to "reclaim their country."

The thoughts expressed concerning Laura Schlessinger last week have really prompted me to think about these talking-head types who feel duty bound to tell the whole world what is wrong with everybody but them. These people, whomever they are, get paid, and well-paid, to set themselves up above others, to mix enough truth with lies that they sound credible, to shock, to divide, and to gain popularity and influence. If you have copy of Mormon Doctrine hanging around your house, look up the definition of "Priestcraft" and see if that doesn't match pretty closely. For how many generations have men been warned about the danger of following the "philosophy of men mingled with scripture." How many more times must we hear it to truly be on our guard?

Again, don't misunderstand, I'm certainly not against people profiting from their labors, intelligence, talents or ingenuity. I am against the preservation of people's right to profit above all other moral responsibility. I am against people using these same skills to incite normally sensible people to extreme anger and divisiveness without offering clear and positive alternatives. I am against people using their God-given gifts (and all good gifts are from God) to wreck and create enmity between people. Just so we are clear--I am not against their agency to do so. I just think they are selling their souls.

3--If your family disagrees with Mr. Obama that doesn't mean something cannot be learned from him. Last month, Bill O'Reilly wrote an article for a weekend circular magazine, Parade. Perhaps you saw it in your paper? Mr. O'Reilly is a Fox News journalist who has routinely been critical of Democrat-sponsored policies and Democrats in general. He is also a shrewd and talented newsman who holds people accountable for what they claim to know and be. His article details some very positive things that American children can learn from our commander-in-chief. Isn't it possible to help our children see, in a calm and rational manner, that there are positive things to learn from all kinds of people, even when we don't agree entirely with them?

I hope that no readers here take offense from what I've said. I have no idea exactly what you believe politically or where your information is coming from. My assumptions here are not aimed at anyone in general, but more at the mood prevailing in our country right now. And I'm deeply disturbed that the heart of such controversies is often in Utah. Gay marriage, which our prophet spoke plainly against is one thing, but to treat a classroom visit by the president as a very affront to all you hold dear, is to create a climate in which Mormons look not only foolish, but as a group that is only allowed to think a certain way by our leaders. Nothing could be further from the truth. I often think of Kennedy and Hatch, life-long friends, when I think of people whose opinions are generally diametrically opposed but managed to form a bond of brotherhood that is built on mutual respect and admiration, and not merely on shared opinion.

Yesterday a friend in Utah sent an e-mail with the following, "I have a friend in Arizona who is being almost bullied by her Mormon mom friends there who are telling her she can't send her kids to school that day, that she needs to send a clear message that she will not be brainwashed by 'that man.' " Of course you should keep your kids home from school if you ever worry for their safety or the appropriateness of what they are learning, but don't assume that because your friends are LDS that they feel the same way about it. And above all, don't judge their commitment to the gospel based on your own perception of politics.

In our "fight to save men's souls" (though I'm quite certain Mr. Obama's speech is not what our leaders have in mind when they use such terminology), let us no lose our own to anger, frustration, discord and ignorance.

Darn that Caller ID

We no longer have a landline. This doesn't make me hip or cool or young. It just makes me cheap. Mostly I like having just a cell phone, but it only identifies callers if they are already programmed into my phone. This is not an issue really: I only screen calls at meal time, after 8:00, when I'm watching a show I really like on TV, when I'm resolving an issue with the kids, doing housework, if I'm talking to someone on the other line, at the store, in the car, when my hands are full, or if I'm just not in the mood to talk. So, yeah, hardly ever.

Two Sundays ago, the phone rang while Plantboy was at meetings and I was in the throes of getting the Jedi off to church. Sunday morning phone calls are generally of two varieties: a missed newspaper customer or my mother. It was not my mother, and not recognizing the number I nearly changed my mind, figuring it was a disgruntled paper (non) recipient. I answered, trying to keep the note of world-weariness out of my voice.

It was not a paper customer.

It was a member of the Stake Presidency. I was surprised to learn that he actually knew me, though I've noticed in this stake that the members of the SP come out fairly regularly to visit the wards. You know how this goes--when anybody from the stake calls you immediately begin the following in your head: What-can-he-be-calling-about-we-just-got-new-callings-please-don't-be-taking-my-husband-away-for-more-hours. But he did not want to meet with me or Plantboy. Instead, he asked if I would speak at the adult session of Stake Conference next week.

I think people say yes to this sort of thing because it comes as such a shock. With some time and reflection, you might be able to give a definitive yes, or at least come up with an excellent excuse. My answer sounded more like a question, "Yes?"

Now for the reason I'm blogging about this rather ordinary event. The topic has me slightly out of sorts. He said that a few people had been asked to take 10 minutes each to share a favorite scripture--one that had influenced our life somehow. He then said the scripture should be centered on Christ and the atonement as much as possible. Seems more like seminary devotional material than adult-session stake conference doctrine.

I wasn't off the phone ten minutes when ideas began flooding 1 Nephi 3 or 8 . . . or 17 ; the last three or four chapters of 2nd Nephi, the first or last few chapters of Mosiah, and Alma! Where to even begin in Alma? 5, 17-26, 32 . . . I quickly realized my thoughts were only in the very first half of the Book of Mormon and there were so many other great ones! Half of the third Nephi, verse 11 of 4th Nephi would make a fantastic talk, not to mention most of Mormon, Ether or Moroni. There are several incredible and influential scriptures in the Doctrine and Covenants too. In Sunday School this summer I think we spent an entire month on just half of section 121. And while not a lot from the Old Testament stood out (Abraham's sacrifice and obedience/Esther's sense of destiny being notable exceptions), there are parts of the New Testament I just love. John 8. Acts 1-10 . . . . excerpts from all the epistles. The entire book of James.

Okay, you definitely get the picture. No doubt with just a minute's reflection you could come up with a similar list. It has really hit me that I don't think I have a favorite scripture. I have passages, stories, chapters that I really love. But a favorite? It's like picking a favorite kid. It just depends on the day, or even the moment.

Now, after some better focused reflection, I'm getting the start of an idea. But as I've been writing the talk, the tendency to sermonize and not just travelogue keeps creeping in. Does that make sense? I don't just want to tell a story; I want to teach a principle. But maybe the assignment just calls for the first? I'm not sure.

So what is YOUR favorite scripture? Either ever or at this moment, I'm not picky, but please give us a reason that you love it. I'm also not going to steal one of yours. I lamented some weeks back about how all of this social networking with a group of such remarkable, like-minded women, kept me from getting on my knees and taking my problems to the Lord. It is not my intention here to do so. Maybe it is that for about fifty un-named reasons this has been a Jonah-week* and I'm in need of some serious uplift. Help me out here, girls.

*Bragging rights to whomever can place the Jonah-week reference!