Some Thoughts for the New Year

When I was five years old one of my most prized possessions was my Strawberry Shortcake doll. I had the lovely version from the '80s that blew strawberry-scented kisses when you pressed her tummy. I knew she had been a relatively expensive Christmas present, and I treasured her.

Years ago my mom found her and sent her to me, along with all my old Strawberry Shortcake miniatures. My girls have had a great time playing with my old relics.

However, I have a friend whose two-year-old has a unique talent for finding Sharpie markers I never knew I had and coloring walls or other miscellaneous surfaces with them. (She also has a knack for having potty-training accidents every time she visits, but that's a topic for another time.) So after a recent play date this is what I found.

Yup. My old Strawberry Shortcake doll covered in permanent marker that I have yet to find a way to remove.

Abby looked at me and looked at my doll. "Are you mad?" she asked.

I surprised myself with my response. "No. That would be a waste of energy," I said.

And instantly I wished I had the strength to apply that wisdom to all of my life's difficulties.

If every time someone said or did something thoughtless or ill-intentioned I had the strength to just take a deep breath and let it go...

I could think about why they feel the way they do or act the way they do...

I could choose to remember that sometimes it's better to be kind than right...

Or I could remember that being frustrated or angry only wastes my energy. The bigger the frustration the more energy I could waste. (I have four small children. I need all the energy I can muster.)

I could remember Him.

Of course, by myself I don't have the strength to just let offenses float past without latching onto at least some of them. But then again, He never asked me to do it by myself. And when I pray for help to forgive and let go, He answers. And those answers are beautiful.

The change to a new year is often a time to reflect and set goals. It seems to me no coincidence that New Year's follows so closely on the heels of Christmas, when thoughts of Christ (and desires to follow Him more closely) are fresh in our hearts. As for me, in 2015 I would like to be a little kinder, a little more forgiving, and a little quicker to reach out and serve others.

I want to be a peaceable follower of Christ.

Picture by Brent Borup, courtesy of LDS media library

I want to be more like Him.

The Real Christmas

Note: I wrote this little post last Christmas but never posted it so you get to enjoy it this year instead. 

Years ago my mom sent a Fisher Price nativity set for the kids. They absolutely love it and wish I would take the "activity set" out of storage for longer than just Christmas time. (I figure its scarcity holds its charm, so it graces our living room from the end of November through the beginning of January.)

I'll admit to being a little neurotic about that nativity set. If one of the pieces is missing for more than a few minutes I start to fret that it has been relocated to a distant part of the house never to be seen again. I love that set and don't want any pieces lost. So I like it when it looks like this--everything arranged perfectly so I know at a glance that no pieces are missing.

Of course, this is occasionally problematic because it's a toy and toys really are meant to be played with. So recently I sat in the rocking chair nursing Emma, glanced over to see the nativity set looking like this, and heaved a sigh of resignation. I just had too much on my hands to worry about it.

Then I was struck by a thought: the current disarray of the nativity set was probably a lot more like what that first Christmas felt like. As much as we like to think and sing about sweet-smelling hay and fluffy white sheep, that's not very realistic. How did Mary feel giving birth miles from home amidst animals and their food and waste? No clean bed, no homey familiarity. I'm sure she craved a few more comforts than she enjoyed.                                                                                                            

Photo courtesy of LDS media library

                                                     
And so it is with me right now. Since Emma's arrival I've become keenly aware of how much I crave order (over chaos) and peace (over the din of a houseful of noisy children). Right now my life doesn't contain enough order or peace. Perhaps Mary's didn't either. Perhaps the real beauty of that first Christmas is the fact that life doesn't offer us enough peace but Christ does. We find meaning in life as we find Christ and He helps us make order from chaos and peace from turbulence.

Life's joy isn't from having everything perfect. It's from finding Christ and the joy, peace, love, and light that He offers. That is why we rejoice in Christ every day and even more at Christmas.

Picture courtesy of LDS media library

                                         
Thank goodness for Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, the Light of the World, and our personal
Savior.

Merry Christmas.

Gifts I Want to Give My Kids

It's that time of year again--you know, the time when we celebrate the humble birth of the Son of God with excess and extravagance. I love Christmas. I love the music, the lights, the sounds, and the decorations. I love the warm feeling I feel inside when I think of the birth of Christ and what that means to me. But I wonder how to help our children feel the true meaning of Christmas when they are surrounded by such a consumer-oriented society. Every year as Christmas comes I wonder how to scale back--how to give our kids less physically and more spiritually--how to give more to others and focus less on what we are getting. I wonder how to draw our family closer to Christ and pull a little farther away from the "What did Santa give you?" culture. And so I've been thinking about the gifts I would like to give my kids this year--not just at Christmas but throughout their lives.

The Gift of Work
Feelings of worth don't come from packages--no matter how big, expensive, or nicely wrapped. But when kids learn to work hard they feel good because they learn that they are capable. They learn to think, solve problems, and accomplish things through sheer grit. And they value what they get because they worked to get it. I want to give my children the gift of hard work so they learn that they are good and they can do great things. They won't know that because I told them that--they'll know because they did the work to find out for themselves.

The Gift of Service
My kids are surrounded by generous and loving family and friends who shower them with nice things. I wish I could peel open their blinders and expose them to the needs of others. When we serve others we feel God's love for them. And we feel good about ourselves because we are able to serve and to give. Cameron and I actively look for ways our family can serve those around us. But service is something we can never expose our kids to enough. Service opens our eyes and our hearts, squelches selfishness, and opens the door to a life following Christ. That's what Christmas should really be about.

The Gift of No
It is common for parents to want to give their kids what they never had. But I fear that in the process too many of us (myself included) deprive their kids of the very experiences that made them strong. Instead of saying yes to so many luxuries I would like to say no more often. I don't want to give my kids all the toys and gadgets they want or all the financial privileges we can afford. I want to say no and teach them that money doesn't buy happiness and less is more. Having more, bigger, and fancier too often detracts from happiness because it distracts people from the things that matter most. Christ wasn't known for his big house or fancy clothes. I don't want our family to be, either.

The Gift of Love
At Christmas we celebrate the love the Savior has for us--demonstrated by his humble birth and life. But too often Christmas celebrations are devoid of Christ and filled with emptiness. I want our Christmas season to be filled with sacred moments, reminders of Jesus' holy life and pure love. I want our children to feel the true beauty of Christmas. It doesn't come from the store. You can't wrap it in a box. But we can be wrapped in his love if we choose Him. Anticipating presents is fun, but Jesus' love lasts forever. This is what I want them to feel and know at Christmas and throughout their lives.

Frankly, planning, preparing for, anticipating, and enjoying Christmas morning as our kids open presents is delightful. I have been counting down the days till Christmas for a while now. I can't wait to give our kids their gifts. But as fun as these things are, I yearn to give my children more.  Hard work, service, and the love of God are gifts that will keep giving and giving as my children grow. These are the things I want to give my children.

Nine Years

Abby and I were driving to the store this week.

Abby: Mom, is the world moving?

Me: Yes, sweetheart, the world is moving.

Abby: How does it move?

Me: Um, that's a Daddy question.

Abby: What do you mean?

Me: I mean Daddy knows more about the world moving than I do.

And then I thought silently to myself, "English majors are content to know that the world is moving and then go on to dissecting symbolism in great works of literature. Engineers are much more concerned with what makes the world move."

Nine years ago today Cameron and I walked out of the temple giddily holding hands, completely elated to be married.

Nine years later I am more grateful than ever that I married my perfect complement.

Where I am weak, he is strong. He answers the questions I can't and does things I can't do. He is a thoughtful, loving husband. He wrestles, tickles, gives piggy back rides, reads to, praises, and prays with our kids. On top of all this, he can answer all the questions the universe can present to young minds. Wow, did I do well or what? Thank goodness I have him forever.

Happy anniversary, darling! I love you!

Christmas Decorations and the Love of God

For my fourth birthday my parents gave me a nutcracker. I was instantly enchanted. I remember playing with it each Christmas throughout my childhood. I couldn’t wait to pull him out of the boxes of holiday decorations each year. He was my nutcracker, and I loved him.

And then there was that not-so-lovely Christmas after I lost my eye. I was still grieving, adjusting, and feeling uncertain about the future. I found my nutcracker in the box of decorations and happily set him next to me while I kept unwrapping other decorations. A few minutes later I glanced back at my nutcracker and was startled to see this: 

He had lost his eye. Cameron and I now joke that my redheaded, well-meaning guardian angel knocked it out while my back was turned to help me feel less alone. Cameron made a little case and put the dismembered eye in it, and they sit together like this each Christmas. 

It may seen silly, but having a one-eyed nutcracker now reminds me of how much the Lord knows me and my struggles. I've never seen it as any coincidence that my beloved nutcracker somehow lost his eye the same year I lost mine. Now when I see my nutcracker I feel the Lord’s love for me. I know that He knows me, how I feel, and what I need. And it just so happens that during that dark Christmas and in happier Christmases since, having a monocular nutcracker has made me feel joyful and loved. It’s OK that my nutcracker only has one eye. And it’s OK that I only have one eye, too.