Psalms

When Kent and I read Psalms a few months ago I underlined verses as we went. I looked some over this morning, coming to the first, Ps. 5:7 - But as for me, I will come into thy house in the multitude of thy mercy: and in thy fear will I worship toward thy holy temple following a *footnote from a verse in Jonah 2 where we are now.  And I cried by reason of mine affliction unto the Lord, and he heard me: out of the belly of hell cried I, and thou heardest my voice. For thou hadst cast me into the deep, in the midst of the seas; and the floods compassed me about: all thy billows and thy waves passed over me. Then I said, I am cast out of thy sight; yet I will look again toward thy holy *temple. I wish I could say in barely a few words why I paused and marked these verses - and remarked on them here - but this post isn't about that. And I would be long winded.
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I do like Psalms. I didn't know much about the book before this spring, David's beseechings and prayers of faith and God's assurances. Here are some 12 favorite verses, not by any means exclusive of all I marked. There is just SOOOO no room here to gush over all the ones I like.

As you scan these you may find one that sticks with you during the day. I like that that's what the scriptures do.

Ps. 9:10  And they that know thy name will put their trust in thee: for thou, Lord, has not forsaken them that seek thee.

Ps. 19:12 . . . cleanse thou me from secret faults.

Ps. 25:10 All the paths of the Lord are mercy and truth unto such as keep his covenant and his testimonies.

Ps. 30:5  . . . weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.

Ps. 31:24  Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord.

Ps. 50:5  Gather my saints together unto me; those that have made a covenant with me by sacrifice.

Ps. 74:17  Thou hast set all the borders of the earth: thou has made summer and winter.

Ps 90:12 So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.

Ps. 92:5 O Lord, how great are thy works! and thy thoughts are very deep.

Ps. 98: 9 . . .  for he cometh to judge the earth; with righteousness shall he judge the world, and the people with equity.

Ps 103:17, 18 But the mercy of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting upon them that fear him, and his righteousness unto children's children; to such as keep his covenant, and to those that remember his commandments to do them.

Ps 104:33 I will sing unto the Lord as long as I live: I will sing praise to my God while I have my being.
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Abbie's lost another tooth!


Abbie and Joseph

Remains of the Day

Attributes for a mother to have

Could I just pull out a few ideas here and dust them off?

A friend of mine from church wrote me this e-mail a few months ago: I'm currently working on my Personal Progress and one of the Divine Nature value experiences is to ask a mother I admire what she thinks are important attributes for being a mother.  

(Yah, just kidding.)

I am hoping that you’ll be willing to share with me your thoughts on the subject of motherhood and what you think are important attributes for a mother to have.  I am asking this same question of a few of the women I have grown to love and greatly admire and hope that, at some point in time, you’ll have a few minutes to think about this and send me an e-mail with your thoughts. There is no rush – I know that ALL Moms are busy!!!

Okay. Hi, here's your reply.

IMPORTANT ATTRIBUTES FOR A MOTHER TO HAVE

Prayerfulness, scripture power and personal revelation. (See Sister Julie Beck's talk from April Conference 2010.) Can't be understated.

Resolve.  Stay [absolutely] committed to what you have come to believe in righteousness and are acting on personally. Don't waver. *On a personal note this has come to be one of THE most valuable notes to self while I continue parenting adult children. Stay with it.

Choose your words to your family carefully. You never know how and when these will be tested or needed. (Almost every day, right!)

Playfulness. Children are inherently playful; they don't lose this until they themselves are adults and, sadly, shouldn't ever. Their assessment of you as a good parent may be when you play with them.

Love their father. Children don't need to bear the chaos of disunity in the home that comes from mom falling out of "like" (or of course, love) with dad, or vice versa. It's beyond upsetting and children have very few coping skills for this. It's tragic for the adults to live in a loveless marriage.

Health and energy. Of course. It shouldn't be sixth on this list but all of these are important and don't gloss over this. Here's a few tips:
a. Fill your own emotional and spiritual bucket consistently, or surround yourself with girlfriends, visiting teachers or mentors who support you - don't depend on your husband to do this for you. He may, even often, but don't be blindsided if he doesn't or can't. He's male.
b. Exercise.
c. Drink water. (Don't drink soda.)
d. Get sunshine. Go outdoors! Nature.
e. Eat smart.
f. Be grateful.
g. MAKE some spot your SANCTUARY (I really, really believe in this) - draw a line in the sand with the family that allows you to retreat as needed - and I'm not talking about a shopping trip which, though exciting, can cause a rush instead of calming you down: bath; bedroom; closet; patio; mother's or sister's home; park; behind a book. Don't give yourself all away!

Spend one-on-one time with each child, planned. Hold Family Council each week and plan for this, with a backup in case plan "A" has to fall through. You'll move heaven and earth to do this with your children, and others around you will come to know it and not be demanding. SAY NO TO OTHERS WHEN IT COMES TO PRESERVING THIS TIME WITH YOUR CHILD.

Be complimentary.The outcome may be that the children will see others around them as you see them.

Expect your children to achieve. Set the bar high at home (of course you'll comply too) and discuss with them from childhood to young adulthood what it means to live up to their potential.

Evaluate what's keeping you most busy. Prioritize. Choose; don't let the day or the program fall in on you.

Ten tips I've given and I can't leave without repeating what I think is a great equalizer in all things, mothering included. Mothering especially.

Be grateful.

http://mormonwoman.org/2009/05/10/tribute-to-mothers/

Summer Sunday Morning

I look out the back door groggily at the morning, hearing . . .

Nooo . . .



Yes.

Not supposed to happen. Not for a string of days.



You have to run out and take pictures when there's a skyscape.

Raindrops are falling on my head.



Then . . .



ahhh,



and within minutes



full sun and business as usual.
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Summer Fare

We sit to lunch today in front of garden veggies. With the trash can between us and ice water, salt and butter next to us, we tuck in. Doesn't occur to me to take pictures til I'm part way done with my first ear of corn. It's so sweet and crunchy I almost say *pshaw on picture-taking for the blog, but then how else could you know what you're missing?

Yes, I have corn in my teeth.



My lunch.  Just kidding! But between us, yeah, we make little piglets of ourselves.



Almost didn't get my tomato. . .



 . . . cause Kent's fast with a fork. I swipe these  across my buttery-salty corn plate after I've eaten my last ear to mop up all that goodness. On a tomato? Oh yeah.

And watermelon for dessert - it's 102 degrees outside. Perfect summer fare.

*Urban Dictionary: Pshaw: 1. a word used to express a feeling of disbelief  2. a word used when you don't know what else to say  3. an expression showing complete and utter boredom with whomever may be speaking. :-)

An opinion

I touch on a sacred subject.

Kent read to me the other night from Discourses of Brigham Young, compiled by John A. Widtsoe, 1925. President Young was straightforward: "By this you may know whether you are in the path that leads to life and salvation. If you can hear the name of the Deity lightly spoken of and blasphemed, and not be shocked by it, you may know that you are not in the path." (also in Journal of Discourses vol. 12 pp. 219-220)

I'm not out there with religious opinions in public. I wonder at times do I even have them . .  . and compared with women and men I know who do and who voice them and who inspire awe in me, no. Inside myself, YES. And I'm not shy about saying things I'm committed to to my kids - which, yeah, they might say is Your Opinion Only.

On the subject of lightly speaking of the Lord's name, I'm fearless. It isn't to be done. If we struggle, really attempt to love the Lord our God with all our heart, soul, mind and strength, we couldn't, wouldn't think of Him but carefully. I don't love Him perfectly yet - hardly. I do tremble when I hear His name taken.

There's the backside of the issue which is what Brigham Young addresses. If you can hear the name of the Lord lightly spoken of and not be shocked by it... ugh, I cringe and duck.

I've used the analogy of a bug in the oatmeal (or ice cream)

for years when discussing with my family my choice to not partake if a good thing is made dirty - but almost this imagery doesn't cut it anymore. It got my attention when I was young; it does still, but this must seem almost normal through the eyes of another generation and compared with the fare in our society. The bug can be sugar-coated. So what if there's one bad word, even a really bad one or a string of them in the show or the book. I'm okay. It doesn't bother me. Or, I'm used to it. In my opinion, sad. Or, It's not that bad and I'm not a bad person.

I fear for anyone who gets used to the world's sights and sounds so that that becomes their "normal," their way, instead of the strait and narrow way which "leads to salvation." To be not shocked, in my opinion, is a step away from Christ and His promises for happiness. Here and now, and when we stand before Him.

Ghetto Farkle

Okay, so here's our version of Farkle: 6 dice I used in Seminary in the last two years that possibly belong to Linda, four navy and two green; one Fried Garlic plastic jar; Andes Creme De Menthe baking chips (in place of peanut M&Ms for treats. See the teeny-tiny pieces near the bag . . . my concession. Wee bits in the mouth, one at a time. Stop after about twenty ten. A few of these won't put pounds on my hips. And Kent eats Special Dark).

He's also gone into Excel (what'dya expect) and typed up a score sheet. Not a score pad, he uses regular paper for that and adds in his head - a cheat sheet to remind us what the rolls are worth when we roll high. And this all gets tucked neatly near the Lazy Susan on the table when we're done. After three games. Uusually one a tie-breaker.



I won tonight. Had to say.

Hot stuff

I'm sitting under a windy fan in the Florida room at my computer fanning myself with papers and complaining at the heat. I just enjoyed a mild portion of spaghetti with marinara sauce (hot) and green beans (hot too) for dinner. I need a watermelon, I said to Kent, meaning an absolutely ice cold one.

The temps are high and the heat index is higher. Our electric company cycles the compressor unit off about dinner time - routinely; off for a while, then on, then off, etc., a system we agreed to years ago that helps the community's rates stay low overall. Because peak usage then, overall, stays low(er) on the hottest days. We get an annual rebate for participating. It's pittance, and I gripe when it's this hot and I'm this hot and fanning myself.

So I gripe a lot. (I'm getting it.) I tell on this blog about my pains and aches. And how hot it is. And oh me and oh my. Would you like some cheese with that w[h]ine? And I should be telling what my blessings are! Do I do enough of that? I've considered taking out complaining altogether,

right out of my speech, yes. Is it possible? Who would I be?  Who are you and what have you done with her? You know, that big-talker that all the time has something going on with her?   :-D

Ah well. Not so fast I won't. Take complaining right out of my talk . . . it'll take doing; thinking about it. That's the trouble: I think-to-speak. Think it - speak it. I need a pause between the two. I need to think more grateful thoughts, I think. I need a lobotomy.

Function and sparkle

Farkle: accessory. The word is generally accepted to mean a combination of "function" and "sparkle", hence, farkle.

A silly game Jen brought with her and taught us. We roped Mike into playing a couple of nights in a row in MN. 'Cause he just studies and studies and works and works - fourth year residency for oral surgery. One more year. I just sat at the end of the table this night eyeing his M&Ms (uh huh, Mike's, for his birthday and you gotta respect that) and losing...



... roll after roll. 



Mike swept us. A little nonsense in a hurry up world, and a treat, and we had so much fun!

Kidbits

I shouldn't blog when I'm tired. My ideas jump around in me during the mornings like popcorn popping - I'm such a morning person. But in the afternoon. Pluh.

95 degrees outside. I just went from Subway where I met Kent for lunch to Kohl's (following him) to buy him New Balance shoes, then to Ross to return a blouse for Erin (no go sister without tags or receipt, sorry) to the main library across town for audio books, and then to Walmart. Walmart was my destination and the other stuff is on the way. I bleached tan capris in the washer this morning along with white towels (ideas were jumping around in me and it seemed the right thing to do)

and they came out yellow. Only blondes can wear yellow pants, have you noticed? So I need a replacement pair of tan - they were my faves; hoping Walmart has my size - and they do. And I bought them and it's way hot and now I'm tired.

Last night I called to talk to Joseph and he came to the phone whistling. I said, Is that you whistling, Joseph?

Yeah. Wanna hear me, Nana? he said, and took my ear off with a piercing sound.

Get outta town! I said, and he laughed himself silly on his end. 

Nana, he said, serious, I'm kinda worried about your eye. Want me to sing a song for you about it? He made it up, a singsong little prayer about how worried he was and that he loved me and hoped my eye would get better. He ended . . . and I'm the best whistler . . . "  We both laughed and I wished right then I could hug him. Later he confided he has new Primary teachers:

Oh, I said, a lady and a man? (Just guessing.)

Yup.

Is it a man you know or a strange man?

Long pause.

He's a pretty strange man, Nana, says Joseph.

(Yup. I walked into that one.)
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 I think about so many things in the mornings but don't get to the computer to write them down. Then I forget. I'm a funny person in my head. Earnest and even artful and when I'm tired, only droll and none of it really seems note-worthy. What do you care about how I got ready for the day with my eyes closed for like five minutes without peeking . . . or how quirky it was for my capris to come out of the washer sunshine yellow for heaven's sake . . . or how I walked the hill five times on Joy Road at 6:00 a.m. kind of Rocky-style, absolutely triumphant! (Yeah, no wonder I'm tired.)

I just thought these Joseph conversations were pretty funny.

Twitterin' [sat. and sun.]

Still battlin' iritis. Getting a blessing.

Making roasted tomato\garlic\onion marinara. House smells good.

Red/yellow peppers for marinated salad, tomatoes and cucumber with rice vinegar and dill. Threw in garbanzo beans and kidneys.

New potatoes on the counter and Kent's peeling ears off the corn stalks. Tomatoes waiting to be washed.

Beets big as softballs.

Gorgeous watermelon from the store and (blast) it's not ripe. Dump it.

Kent wiping me out at Farkle after dinner.

Slow and easy this morning.

Getting a blessing.

People at church glad to see me. Hugs.

Hootananny pancakes for dinner. Warm syrup and cold milk.

Glad to be home.
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"Do-it-yourself" project

An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the house-building business and live a more leisurely life with his wife enjoying his extended family. He would miss the paycheck, but he needed to retire. They could get by. The contractor was sorry to see his good worker go and asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but in time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end his career.

When the carpenter finished his work and the builder came to inspect the house, the contractor handed the front-door key to the carpenter. "This is your house," he said, "my gift to you."

What a shock! What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently. Now he had to live in the home he had built none too well.

So it is with us. We build our lives in a distracted way, reacting rather than acting, willing to put up less than the best. At important points we do not give the job our best effort. Then with a shock we look at the situation we have created and find that we are now living in the house we have built. If we had realized that we would have done it differently.

Think of yourself as the carpenter. Think about your house. Each day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall.



Build wisely. It is the only life you will ever build. Even if you live it for only one day more, that day deserves to be lived graciously and with dignity.

The plaque on the wall says Life is a "do-it-yourself" project. Who could say it more clearly?

Your life today is the result of your attitudes and choices in the past.  

Your life tomorrow will be the result of your attitudes and the choices you make today.

Dinner plate and pin head

Eye-ritis. Really, iritis.  Inflammation of the iris. Associated with autoimmune disorders. Affects the iris and may develop suddenly and last up to eight weeks, even with treatment. So a prompt fix is vital.

Five years ago I had pain and redness in my right eye and had to see the eye doctor. He diagnosed it and put me through treatment for several weeks. These shades I wore a whole week because he wanted my pupil in my right eye dilated round the clock.



One pupil was as as big as a dinner plate and the other the size of a pin head. No, I won't show you a picture.

He warned me iritis lays dormant and flares up. I carry eye drops in my purse like maybe a diabetic keeps insulin handy. It's way more urgent than carrying, say, Tylenol for a headache. These steroid drops stall the advance of blindness.

Because here's the thing. White blood cells (leukocytes) accumulate near the iris and adhere to the lens if the condition goes untreated. So I'm on vacation . . . Sunday is fine but Monday afternoon I have hazy vision (before even redness or achyness warns me and I can start dosing). What is this? It's acute. It's fierce. I kind of panic and put in drops. Every four hours round the clock, what I've done before. Still the hazy vision. I call the doctor's office and tell the assistant. The day I fly home the doctor is consulted and an appointment is made and she calls me right as I board the plane and I call her back when I land and now this morning I've been seen. In Macon. Plenty early. And it isn't pleasant.

A half hour of observations with lights and scopes and lots of questions about my health. Any stress in your life? Anything changed? [Well yes, I've had paralyzing back pain and TMJ and unexplainable shoulder fatigue and my family doctor says I need to see a urologist because there's leukocytes in my urine . . . and I'm on cholesterol meds for the first time. I think I popped a rib or strained a muscle five weeks ago, I've changed my eating habits and exercised hard for three months and doc, I've been on two vacations. In two months . . . yeah].

He goes to dilate my eyes saying, what's on the docket for today?

I can rest, I state and warn him off dilating both eyes as I need to drive myself home on the freeway in the morning sun. *Danger, Will Robinson! He puts drops in my right eye and leaves for a while, then finishes the exam and gives me take home instructions: Need to continue with the Pred Forte but not like I was. Every four hours isn't even cutting it. Every hour for three days. Then taper off. And new drops, the ones I knew were coming: Dilating drops. Leaving me lopsided. If my pupil can stay dilated for several hours the scar tissue trying to adhere to the lens will break up and I get my vision back. Already I'm lopsided while he talks to me, my one eye blinded by the office lights overhead and the other, I know, a pin hole to compensate. Already I'm going to have trouble driving home. Thank goodness it's just a few dilating drops for a few days and I can put them in at night.

No shades this time around.

Except really I had to wear them to buy groceries in Kroger on the way home.

And sure enough...



*Danger, Will Robinson! is a catch phrase from the 1960s’ American television series Lost in Space. The Robot, acting as a surrogate guardian, says this to young Will Robinson when the boy is unaware of an impending threat. In everyday use, the phrase warns someone that they are about to make a mistake or that they are overlooking something. (Wikipedia)

I am in His watchful care

I went on Sally DeFord's website today looking for special music for Sacrament meeting, and am listening to a recording of this solo composed by her. A man is singing, and it seems an appropriate piece for the topic of Priesthood, the topic for the speakers. One of the best things about my calling with the music in the ward is feeling the spirit in Sacrament meeting when the words of the special music dovetail with the words of the speakers. It's a good feeling when the spirit is strong.
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If the Savior stood beside me, would I do the things I do?
Would I think of His commandments and try harder to be true?
Would I follow His example? Would I live more righteously
If I could see the Savior standing nigh, watching over me?

If the Savior stood beside me, would I say the things I say?
Would my words be true and kind if He were never far away?
Would I try to share the gospel? Would I speak more reverently
If I could see the Savior standing nigh, watching over me?

If the Savior stood beside me, would my thoughts be clean and pure?
Would His presence give me strength and hope, and courage to endure?
Would His counsel guide my actions? Would I choose more worthily
If I could see the Savior standing nigh, watching over me?

If the Savior stood beside me, would I often kneel to pray?
Would I listen to the Spirit's voice, and hasten to obey?
Would I count my many blessings? Would I praise Him gratefully
If I could see the Savior standing nigh watching over me?

If the Savior stood beside me, would I comfort those in need?
Would I try to show the Savior's love in every word and deed?
Would I give to those who hunger? Would I serve more willingly
If I could see the Savior standing nigh, watching over me?

He is always near me, though I do not see Him there
And because He loves me dearly, I am in His watchful care
So I'll be the kind of person that I know I'd like to be
If I could see the Savior standing nigh, watching over me.
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Jenny and I sat outside briefly this afternoon. She's catching some sunshine.



Me too, and reading . . . and dozing.



Quiet here in the back yard.



One place I often am - behind the camera.

Erin

So I haven't put enough pics of Erin on the blog in the last few days. Not any that I can see actually. She's gonna kill me, but isn't she cute! Yeah, she's the mother of three and I've snapped pictures of her when she was looking for it, and posing and, well, looking her very best. Staight hair, sunglasses, cute clothes. All through the weeks. She wouldn't let me get her at the pool Friday so I backed off there . . . who looks great in a swimming pool?  In a swimsuit? Maybe you do, and I'm jealous!!! Here getting ready to go to the movies the other night she turned suddenly from blowing her hair dry and smiled and I grabbed the moment.

I am loving being with my girls. This has been one of the best vacations ever. It's almost over. Sadly.

Movie deal

We saw it in 1984, the original "Karate Kid" - where a handyman slash martial arts master teaches a bullied boy karate and shows him how there is more to the art than fighting. I was so inspired then, a good movie.



I'm not surprised there's been a remake. It was filmed last year in China and opened a month ago, and I saw it last night!



I love the photography and sweeping views.



Jaden Smith, Will's kid. Whadda ya think?



Jackie Chan - Kung Fu master. Yeah, Kung Fu. It should'a been called the "Kung Fu Kid." That's the mildest of criticisms and doesn't even matter in the end. SO good!



I loved the ending. Good triumphs over bad. And boy were the bad guys bad. I loved the middle that taught about good attitude and peace. I loved the soundtrack -  the movie is beautiful. I was inspired before, and am again.

Here's us getting ready to go, well the girls. I'm behind the camera always:



We went to our favorite sandwich place in the same mall as the theater, Pot Belly's (been there done that and love it!) and lo and behold there was a movie deal happening. A movie ticket for just over half the price of regular with the price of a sandwich. Bingo! I'm always about a deal. Made the movie sweeter! Yes.

Recognizing the Lord's Hand

A young couple spoke in Sacrament meeting on recognizing the Lord's hand in all things in our lives. Both talks had great points in them.

1) Take a close look when things in your life seem unfair. The Lord may have created a learning situation for you!

2) He doesn't create our life situations always - he stands by and lets things happen to us for our good.

3) In an analogy of bench pressing, the Lord is the spotter who is with the weight lifter (us) constantly, never leaving. He doesn't just jump in and spot us when the lifting gets hard or too heavy or we are exhausted.

4) Our own constant recognition of the Lord in our lives generates humility and thankfulness, and a constantly renewing relationship with Him

I love the feelings I have generally when I go to church. Taking the Sacrament was for me a thoughtful time this morning. I think it's about how prepared I am to worship and my gratitude level. Some Sundays are better than others for receiving the Spirit and a renewal of commitment.

I still maintain that in general we ARE what we last did or read or talked about. For the moments or hours that follow after. I went to "Karate Kid" last night with Jen and Erin and woke up today thinking all about it. But before I went to bed the VERY last things I did were read from my commentary on the Doctrine and Covenants I'm reading this trip, and pray and lay in bed thinking about God's blessings. So I woke this morning eager to bring myself  to the Sacrament table and able to listen without distractions in my mind to these two good talks.

Time together

We hit the pool yesterday, a good hot day for it. Jen and I took some girl-time to shop in the morning after breakfast while Erin made lunches and gathered towels and packed bags and readied the kids to go, then we drove to the pool and played hard for a couple of hours or more. Jen and Abbie stayed in the deeper end, Jen teaching Abs to do back flips in the water (Abbie's the little pink shadow under Jenny's arms)...



... and Erin and I watching the boys in the shallow end.



And there was lunch...



... on the grass 'cause the picnic tables were full.

Erin and Mike went on a date last night leaving me and Jen with the kids. Everything went great. I always remember when it's me babysitting how much goes into caring for one child. Multiples? Well. Glad it's the thirty year-olds with their high energy that care for large families. I don't run out of steam or determination, I just move slower!

Noah hasn't warmed up to me yet. (Probably won't.) Days and days in Utah seeing me, and now a few days right in his house with me and still he prefers Aunt Jenny. There's the look into my face he gives me, then the push-off if I'm holding him when Jen walks into the room. And the unhappy noises. Last night he woke about thirty minutes after we put him to bed with a nightmare we think because he cried hard and fast and loud. We got him up and brought him and his blanket and binky downstairs with us to watch TV. He sat on Jenny's lap wrapped and content facing the television with one hand patting her cheeks and hair and nose and eyes, smiling. Both of them were smiling when I looked over.

This is another place and time with these two, but you get the picture.