Growing up Fast

On Thanksgiving day my beautiful young grand-daughter, Kaylie Sierra, turned 12 years old. I am amazed by what a lovely young woman she is growing up to be.

Because I live many hundreds of miles away from Kaylie, I do not get to visit her near as often as I would like to. But I have pictures of her and her siblings all over my house and in my office at work to help me remember them each and every day. They are never far from my thoughts.

Kaylie has had some big challenges in her 12 years. Her parents split up when she was just a baby and it has been difficult going back and forth between mom's house and dad's house, trying to figure out what was truly "home". Also, she has had to move more times than I can count, between Michigan, Oregon, North Carolina...too often having to say goodbye to special friends. Looks like there may still be more moves yet to come. I know that is hard for her.

Recently she faced the challenge of new family dynamics as she gained a step-mom and four new siblings with her dad's recent marriage. That can't have been easy.

But through it all, Kaylie has developed a wonderful personality, has lots of talents and is genuinely one of the nicest people I know. (of course, proud grandma that I am, I'm not one bit biased!) Honestly, even if she were not my grand daughter, I would be proud to know her just because of the fine person she is. She's smart as a whip, has a wonderfully curious mind about the world, and is just plain fun to be with.

So happy birthday to you my dear Kaylie. Know that even though I'm far away, not a day goes by that I don't think of you and that I love you very, very much!

Giving Thanks

As we approach the Thanksgiving holiday, I am feeling very grateful for so many things. Blessings that come to mind in no particular order include:

Clean running water that is safe to drink.

A husband who is kind, gentle and generous, and supremely patient with my unconventional ways that sometimes go beyond his comfort zone.

High speed internet .

A refrigerator with the freezer on the bottom - I honestly don't know why they are made any other way!

Rich relationships with siblings, cousins, friends, children, grandchildren.

The gift of literacy.

Fresh tomatoes from our garden, picked green before the frost that were wrapped carefully in newspaper and stowed away in the basement. LOVELY to have such yummies just now getting ripe in chilly November!

The new PalmPilot I got for my birthday from my brother. Thanks Wayne!

But most of all, of course, is the knowledge that I am a child of God and that He has a plan for me. I'm still trying to figure out what that plan is, but I've learned to trust that ALL things will ultlimately work out for good as I trust in Him.

The Miracle of Manna

Ever since I was a little kid I’ve heard the stories of Moses leading the children of Israel through the wilderness and how they lived on something called Manna. More recently, I’ve studied the life of St. Mary of Egypt and pondered long and hard the lessons she had to teach me. But all of that was done with the mindset of the word “desert” or “wilderness” being interpreted from my own cultural experience. I grew up in Arizona where we have desert that is lush with cactus, wildflowers and other plants. A variety of birds, reptiles and mammals roam the land. I could well imagine someone surviving there. Granted, it would be difficult and painful at times. But it seemed possible to me.

Now that I’ve seen the Sinai, the whole concept of wandering in the wilderness takes on a whole new meaning for me. I am in awe that anyone could stay alive in that land. The miracle of manna holds a whole new sense of the miraculous. For miles and miles there is nothing but sand and rock. On first impression it seems like utter wasteland not even a lizard would claim. But after being there a while, I truly could sense why it would be the perfect place to let the soul grow quiet and learn to put absolute trust on the Lord.

Choosing the Sacred

One of the places we visited in Egypt was St. Katherine's Monastery on Mt. Sinai. It was an amazing experience that touched my soul in ways difficult to express.

One of the things that was reaffirmed to me there was the importance of choosing to acknowledge the sacred in all of life, and to give special reverence to those places I know to be holy.

Bus loads of tourists come to see this place. In a few areas it was quite crowded with people from all over the world pointing, gawking, aiming video cameras and the like.

As I approached the chapel of the Burning Bush, I had to very willfully put out of my mind the crush of people all around talking and taking pictures so that I could go quiet inside to pray in this sacred place. I closed my eyes and opened up my heart as I repeated the Jesus Prayer for each of my Orthodox friends back home and then turned my spirit to more open communion with my Heavenly Father to seek repentance, to seek council of the Holy Spirit, to lift my face to the sky as a daughter of God.

In that moment it really didn't matter how many tourists were there. All that mattered was that I knew some powerful truths were being revealed to my mind if I were willing to accept them.

So it is each day - even here in my small town in Oregon. I can allow myself to get caught up in the busy events of daily life and focus on the problems of the world. Or I can choose to keep an eternal perspective, allowing myself to be open to the teachings of the Spirit day by day. The choice is mine. I don't have to go half way around the world to seek inspiration. While it was indeed a significant privilege to visit this holy site, I know that God can come to me in all times, in all places, if I will but go quiet inside and seek him.

Foods of Egypt

One of the standard foods in Egypt is Pita bread. Every few blocks we would see street vendors like this one selling bread from their carts. Sometimes we'd see veiled women walking with huge platters stacked high with bread carried on their heads.

There were also lots of fruits and vegetables. We passed by fields where they grew the most giant cabbages I've ever seen. The land around the Nile delta is very fertile, and much valued for the agriculture possible there, which is important since so much of the country is harsh desert where nothing grows at all.

In the suburbs of "New Cairo" there are shopping malls with supermarkets very much like what you would find in the United States, but in the old city most everything is sold by street vendors or small shops specializing in one thing - meat or fruit or bread or what have you.

Most of the meat we ate was beef, chicken or lamb. I was told that camel is quite tasty and would have been willing to try it, but alas I never had the opportunity.

Back in the USA

My husband and I have just returned from a 10 day trip to Egypt. It was an amazing journey. For me, this was a true spiritual pilgrimage. While I enjoyed seeing the ancient monuments and the museums, the most significant experiences of this trip were the times we spent in holy places. I spent much time in prayer and pondering. I read my scriptures. I considered all the things I have been taught as I looked into the faces of my brothers and sisters who are the children of Egypt. I asked my heart many questions about what I know to be true. I had some truly sacred experiences during this journey. I will be forever grateful to the Egyptian people for the sincere welcome they offered. In the coming weeks I hope to find time to post more of the pictures and thoughts I had about this trip. I'm thinking long and hard about what it means to me to be an American, a woman, and a Christian in light of the things I saw and felt in the Middle East. I am so deeply grateful for the experiences I was blessed with. At the same time, it feels awfully good to be home.

Madly, Crazy, Wildly in LOVE!

One of the online courses I teach is Sociology of the Family. In the discussion area for that class the students have been debating whether or not it is possible for a single monogamous relationship to meet a couple's emotional needs throughout the life course and if it is realistic to expect such a relationship to remain passionate over many years. The opinions expressed have been all over the map. Some have said YES, that by making the right choices a relationship can continue to grow in power and intimacy. Others have insisted NO, that familiarity will wear the passion out over time.

This was my response:

After a quarter century of marriage I am madly, passionately, crazy in love with my husband. I look at him and I get weak in the knees. Yes, we have the comfortable security of a long term relationship. But we also have that catch in your throat, heat in the loins PASSION raging strong. I know it's possible. I'm living proof.
I know all too well that long term monogamous marriage is a huge challenge that can get derailed by a million and one things if you let it. But if both partners are willing to do the work it takes, the pay off is well worth it. This is a second marriage for both of us so we both know all too well what happens when the relationship is taken for granted or if either partner is more concerned with self than with the union.
Our happiness together is NOT a product of exclusively shiny circumstances. Our marriage has definitely had some big challenges - merging kids from both our first marriages into one family, dealing with the death of a child, an extended period of unemployment, moving eight different times due to corporate mergers, health crisis, you name it! We aren't blissful because it has been easy. We are best friends savoring our lives together because we have learned to operate as a supportive team during the tough times as well as the celebrations.
Life is messy and families are complicated. But YES, marital satisfaction is possible over the long haul. It's one of the greatest blessings of my life.

LJB

Fish Liberation

Frodo and Sam have gone on a new journey. Not the ones in the Tolkein tale. The ones from my pond.

I have a small pond in my front yard with a bubbling, gurgling waterfall that I love to listen to while sitting out on my porch. Generally I've kept the thing running all winter long by putting a small stock tank heater in it to keep it from icing over.

However, I also have several giant, near 100 year old maple trees that are blanketing the yard (and therefore the pond) with many grand piles of leaves. It's a bit of a battle to keep it clear this time of year.

After giving it some thought, I decided to drain the pond and give the pump a rest for the winter this year. That will allow me to scrub the thing out good, get some new filter material and start fresh in the spring - with the added bonus of not having to keep scooping cold gooey leaves out of the water every few days all autumn long.

However, shutting down the pond for the first time in four years meant I had to find a new home for Frodo and Sam, the two giant Shubunkin fish who made kingdom there. So I scooped them into gallon sized zip log bags of water, put them in a bucket and carted them off to a new pond that happens to be at the college where I work. I walk from my office up to the pond just about every day on my lunch hour just to get some fresh air and exercise. So I'll get to visit my pals and watch them grow in the deeper, larger, more versatile environment. They also now have a whole host of new friends to get acquainted with.

The fish in the college pond are mostly just plain gold fish. I don't know if Shubunkin and goldfish are closely enough related to make babies together...I kinda hope so. My fish are beautiful mottled calico colors of black and white and gold with large, sweeping fins and extra fancy tails. The goldfish are just ordinary, run of the mill goldfish. I think it would be kind of cool if next summer I start to seem some multi-colored babies with long tails show up during my walks there.

The Good Old Days

I was fretting over how hectic my life seems to be these days. Here we are living in this modern age full of miracle drugs, amazing technology, high speed travel and all sorts of conveniences, yet our lives seem to be more frazzled and frantic than our pioneer parents. I was thinking that it might have been nice to live in a time when there were fewer demands and not so many choices to make. I sometimes bemoan the sad state of the world and all the ugliness it holds...yeah, I know there is fabulous stuff to celebrate. But sometimes I see the war and greed and disasters of today and I long for simpler times.

And then I came across this scripture verse:

"Oh, that I could have had my days in the days when my father Nephi first came out of the land of Jerusalem, and that I could have joyed with him in the promised land; then were his people easy to be entreated, firm to keep the commandments of God, and slow to be led to do iniquity; and they were quick to hearken unto the words of the Lord-- Yea, if my days could have been in those days, then would my soul have had joy in the righteousness of my brethren. But behold, I am consigned that these are my days..." (Helaman 7:7-9)

It seems people have been longing for "the good old days" since way back when. Yet we each must live out whatever days we are given.

I am reminded of the exchange between Frodo and Gandalf in The Fellowship of the Ring:

Frodo: I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had happened.

Gandalf: So do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us. ..."

So I take a deep breath and keep plugging along, mastering my challenges as best as I can. I shine some. I fail some. But as long as I keep gettin' back up, I guess that's all that matters.

Refiners Fire

I have no idea who the original author is of the following...it's one of those things that has been traveling around the internet for a while. But I liked it enough to post it here.

*******

Malachi 3:3 says: "He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver."

This verse puzzled some women in a Bible study and they wondered what this meant about the character and nature of God. One of the women offered to find out the process of refining silver and get back to the group at their next Bible Study.

That week, the woman called a silversmith and made an appointment to watch him at work. She didn't mention anything about the reason for her interest beyond her curiosity about the process of refining silver. As she watched the silversmith, he held a piece of silver over the fire and let it heat up. He explained that in refining silver, one needed to hold the silver in the middle of the fire where the flames were hottest as to burn away all the impurities.

The woman thought about God holding us in such a hot spot; then she thought again about the verse that says: "He sits as a refiner and purifier of silver." She asked the silversmith if it was true that he had to sit there in front of the fire the whole time the silver was being refined. The man answered that yes, he not only had to sit there holding the silver, but he had to keep his eyes on the silver the entire time it was in the fire. If the silver was left a moment too long in the flames, it could be destroyed. The woman was silent for a moment. Then she asked the silversmith,"How do you know when the silver is fully refined?" He smiled at her and answered, "Oh, that's easy -- when I see my image in it."

If today you are feeling the heat of the fire, remember that God has His eye on you and will keep watching you until He sees His image in you.

Facing Adversity

I've been watching the progress of the Herrin twins since their separation surgery. This family's courage and faith have been truly inspiring. I know the pain and struggle I've had over difficult things that have come up in my own children's lives. I can't even imagine what it would be like to face a challenge like this.

When our children suffer, we suffer. How God holds us, His spirit children, all in His infinite love I will never understand. Sometimes he must shake his head in exasperation at all the knucklehead things we do and situations we get ourselves into. Other times I am sure He weeps with sorry at our pain. Yet, because of His infinite wisdom, He knows that pain is an essential part of this mortal life. So much we cannot comprehend.

Why do terrible things happen to innocents? What purpose is served? What meaning could we / should we give the pain in our lives?

I've been working really hard at developing more of a "thy will be done" attitude in my prayers. I beg the Lord to take away a hurtful situation that is happening for a family member, but in the same prayer I acknowledge that He knows what will ultimately be best for all concerned and that I do understand this fallen, mortal world is a time of suffering for a reason. I can't always see what that reason is. Of course I want painful things to be removed. Even the Savior would have had the bitter cup he faced removed had it been possible...but in the end He said "thy will be done" so that is the path I am trying to take.

I want the things that hurt me or hurt my loved ones to be taken away. You bet I do! Beyond that, when I see the pain and suffering of so many throughout the world, I want to alleviate that hurting in any way I can. I think we MUST try to make the world a better place. Yet we also must acknowledge that pain and suffering will continue, and that part of the lesson of this life is to learn from it.

I'm afraid I still have a long, long way to go....

Mental illness

Reading a recent post by Matthew triggered a whole bunch of questions in my mind...

In the Sociology course I teach we address the issue that statistically there are way more psychotic people among the "lower class" strata of our society than in other segments. There are two basic theories why this is the case:

1) SOCIAL IMPACT says that the stress of living in poverty, possibly experiencing homelessness, and generally living in more dangerous / unhealthy environments creates pressure that causes some people with a predisposition to mental illness to have a major break that they might not have had if they had experienced a more supportive environment. Meanwhile, according to this theory, there are plenty of people in the middle and upper classes that are more mentally fragile, but because they have reasonably comfortable lives with access to resources, they never fully break out into what we would consider psychosis.

2) SOCIAL DRIFT theory, on the other hand, says that ALL socio-economic groups have an equal occurrence of originally becoming mentally ill, but those that do from the higher classes are more likely to "drift down" in social mobility to the lower classes due to their illness interfering with their ability to cope with life's responsibilities and the healthy folk born into lower classes have the chance to "drift up" through hard work & education, leaving behind those who were ill equipped to make that transition. End result of both sorts of social mobility is more psychotics at the bottom of the ladder.

I suspect there is some of each of these factors at play...

Still others say that there is no such thing as mental illness at all, that it's all a social construct based on certain norms being acceptable and others not but who is to really say what "normal" is?? What is considered flaming crazy in one society may be very acceptable in another. Or, different times in history within the same society will name different types of behavior as "sick" or "ok".

At what point do we think of someone as "sorta quirky" and when do they cross the line into "mental illness"? To what degree should "bad behavior" or criminal acts be excused due to a diagnosed mental illness? How much mental anguish and difficulty should we expect simply because we live in a fallen, mortal world full of adversity and when does personal angst and misery cross over to "clinical depression"?

Lots of question...no clear answers. There is such a trend to medicalize behavior these days in order for individuals to qualify for "help". Things like "adolescent oppositional defiant disorder" used to be called being an out of control kid that needed some discipline. Alcoholism has run the gambit from being viewed as sin or weakness to being a disease. Homosexuality used to be viewed as a form of mental illness. Norms change, those in power take a new vote and suddenly it isn't anymore. Multiple Personality Disorder (now named Disocciative Identity Disorder) was once thought of as a very strange and rare thing.... the diagnostic criteria changed, a few workshops and organizations got popular and suddenly there were hundreds of cases being discovered all across the nation. Specialized units were opened in hospitals and a whole new subspecialty in treatment modalities was born. To what extent do we CREATE conceptions of mental illness in order to generate jobs/industry?

The DSM manual in all it's many incarnations tries to spell everything out clearly and tie it up with a bow....life, in my mind, is more complicated than that.

Power of Love

A dear friend of mine in Arizona sent me this story - AMAZING...just had to share it.

*****
I try to be a good parent. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots. But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.

Eighty-five times he's pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in marathons. Eight times he's not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars--all in the same day. Dick's also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike.

Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much--except save his life. This love story began in Winchester, Mass., 43 years ago, when Rick was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs. "He'll be a vegetable the rest of his life;" Dick says doctors told him and his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. "Put him in an institution." But the Hoyts weren't buying it.

They noticed the way Rick's eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. "No way," Dick says he was told. "There's nothing going on in his brain." Tell him a joke," Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain.

Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? "Go Bruins!" And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, "Dad, I want to do that." Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described "porker" who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles?

Still, he tried. "Then it was me who was handicapped," Dick says. "I was sore for two weeks." That day changed Rick's life. "Dad," he typed, "when we were running, it felt like I wasn't disabled anymore!" And that sentence changed Dick's life.

He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon. "No way," Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren't quite a single runner, and they weren't quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year. Then somebody said, "Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?" How's a guy who never learned to swim and hadn't ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried. Now they've done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii.

It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don't you think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you'd do on your own? "No way," he says. Dick does it purely for "the awesome feeling" he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together. This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time'? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992--only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don't keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.

"No question about it," Rick types. "My dad is the Father of the Century." And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. "If you hadn't been in such great shape," one doctor told him, "you probably would've died 15 years ago." So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other's life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass., always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father's Day. That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy. "The thing I'd most like, " Rick types, "is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once."

Here's the video.... http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WjPrL3n63yg

Just a Bit of Nonsense

Here is a silly little video that my daughter-in-law, Shanoa, sent today.
It made me laugh, so I figured I'd share it.

PERFECT MAN AND WOMAN

Ink Mouth

Morgan Dog, the incorrigible Basset Hound, has struck again. She is usually quite a well behaved beast. Now that she's over a year old, most of her early puppy impulse to chew is behind her. When she was little (about the size pictured here) she would chew up anything she could get to. She destroyed a scarecrow out of our garden. She ruined some nice plants I'd gotten for our pond. (She tossed the parrot feather and lilies into the yard, but really went to town with chewing up the plastic pots they were in.) She's made a mess of plastic spatulas left out by the barbecue. She even used to like to chew up aluminum pop cans. As she got older she has responded fairly well to training and is now hardly a problem at all in the area of destruction. However, she does still consider anything left on the front porch as fair game. That is clearly her turf, and she delights in chewing up any item she finds there.

Which is a problem when I have packages delivered by UPS. She has eaten college text books sent by publishers. This time, she got the package that had 3 ink cartridges from Dell which cost me $75. YIKES!

I don't know whether to be more mad at the dog, the UPS man or at Dell. I was very clear with Dell that I wanted my package sent to my PO box and I was willing to pay extra shipping fees to accomplish this. They refused, saying they ONLY ship via UPS. To me, this is just plain silly. If I want it in my box why is that a problem?? As for the UPS guy - I have a small table right by my front door expressly for that purpose - so packages can be placed there. Anything on the table is safe. But no. The UPS delivery people continue to put boxes on the floor in front of the door. As for Morgan... she's a good dog, as far as dogs go. But this is pretty frustrating.

Food storage gone seriously wrong...

I spent the afternoon helping a dear elderly sister clean out her freezer. It had gotten so iced over inside that the door would not unlock. The door had to be removed entirely and serious work undertaken to put all items into ice chests (about a dozen of them!) for safe keeping so the freezer could be thawed and cleaned. That all happened before I got there. Once everything got taken out, my friend became quite overwhelmed by the project and called me, her trusty VT, for reinforcements.

Little did I know that a simple act of service for a lady I dearly love would become such an ethical dilemma.

The freezer had been tightly packed with boxes and bags and containers of every kind you might imagine. A LARGE portion of those items were dated prior to 2004. A SIGNFICANT portion were dated around 1986 and then on up through the 90's.

And my friend insisted it was all perfectly good.

These jars and bags and boxes were totally encased in thick layers of ice. She was picking them up and whacking each one with a hammer to knock the ice of, taking a peek to try to figure out what it might be, then carefully re-labeling to put each thing back in her freezer. She had finally realized that process would take her all day long and stuff would start to melt, so that's why she called me. She wanted help in the process.

I tried to reason with this dear lady that any food more than two years old really should be thrown away. She was insistent that she wanted it all. I tried to be kind about it, but was very firm that we must at least throw away anything dated from the past century. Anything that bore a date of 1999 or before I would put in a box and cart off to my dumpster for her. She did NOT like that. But grudgingly went along with it, and then questioned each and every thing I started to throw away - saying "oh this one looks pretty good!"

I started giving her tasks to remove her from the work area ("could you please get me another towel to wipe these?" or "I think this marking pen is going dry - would you mind going to get another?" and then I would quickly toss out as much as I could before her return. My husband was there also, a party to my "crime." As soon as I could get a full box ready to go I'd have him load it into our car out of her view. We filled then entire back of our SUV with very old, very freezer burned, very dead nasty looking food for disposal. But we did it in a pretty sneaky way.

So I'm wondering about this... was it my place to do that? Darn right! or was it?

Which leads to the larger issues of how we deal with people we love who lose their judgment as they grow older. At what point do we "younguns" have the right to impose our values and wishes over what they may prefer? How do we say "You really should not drive any more" or "it's not safe for you to live alone" to someone who very much wants to maintain independence, but in our eyes seems to be a danger to themselves or others?

This dear lady is increasingly showing signs of not being able to care for herself or her property. Her family are all totally flumoxed about what to do about it, because any time they make suggestions for other arrangments "grandma" will have no part of it. At what point do they insist?

I am a firm advocate of honoring our elders. And I'll be the first to admit there are plenty of people in their 2o's, 30's, 40's or 50's who have shown poor judgment in a variety of ways that I would never consider putting into an assisted living facility. But when someone is 80 and had previously been sharp yet now is frequently confused or forgetful it seems to be an entirely different playing field.

I have no fear of death, but I am terrified of being left alone as a fragile, dependent person in my senior years. I wonder and worry at times about whether I will live with chronic illness or if I will lose my lucid mind. One thing I do know for sure. If I ever get to the point that I'm keeping 20 yr old food in my freezer and refusing to get rid of anything so much so that my house becomes a wild, haphazard warren of newspapers, special TV offers and old ice cream containers, I'd very much appreciate it if SOMEONE would step up and intervene rather than worrying they might hurt my feelings.

Good Grief!

I usually look forward to Sabbath days as a time of reflection and renewal. Today, however, I came home form church frazzled and exhausted.

I teach a class of 5, 6 & 7 year old children in Primary. Although they can certainly get silly at times, for the most part they are great kids. I enjoy teaching them the stories about Jesus and helping them to understand how very much their Father in Heaven loves them.

Today there were three new kids in my class. Two of them are from families who just moved in to the area and one was the grandson of an investigator. I was trying to make a point of really helping these children to feel welcome and go out of my way to be sure they had a positive experience coming to church. The two move ins were great and went away happy. The third child was a bit more of a challenge.

Obviously this kid was not used to being in church, so I tried to be patient with his wiggles, his chair tipping, his talking out of turn, his general distracting behavior. I kept reinforcing what was expected and trying to gently remind him how we were supposed to act in Primary. He did reasonably well during class time. But by the time we gathered with the other age groups for the singing & sharing time, the kid had all the sitting still he could stand. He started squirming all over the place , kicking the chair, playing with a toy he wasn't supposed to have, and generally being disruptive. I took him out into the hall, got down close to his eye level and spoke very firmly to him about the rules for church. I told him he could choose if he wanted his toy to stay in his pocket or in my pocket, that it was entirely up to him - but it WOULD be in somebody's pocket until the end of class. I showed him again how we fold our arms and explained why we do not kick chairs. He got very serious and solemn, promising to behave.

When we went back in he let out a big sigh and just went all limp, sliding down his chair till he was laying on it with his feet stuck out in the aisle, and somehow he managed to get his head stuck in the hole in the back of the chair. Yep. SERIOUSLY stuck. It took three teachers several minutes to get him unwedged and left a bit of a mark across his forehead.

We have these molded plastic stacking chairs for the little kids that have never appeared to me to be any particular hazard. The opening in the back really isn't very big at all - just makes it easy to lift and stack them. Just how he managed to get his head through that small hole I honestly don't know. He had to have is head tipped in just a certain way to squeeze through it, which is what made it so hard to get him back out.

All in all, I don't think I was his favorite person today and he probably thought the whole scene was a big drag that turned into a nightmare. I guess the event appeared pretty funny to some of the others in the room, but I can only imagine how awful and embarrassing it must have felt for him. Ah, the adventures of Primary.... no matter how hard we try as leaders to provide a strong spiritual base for these kids there's always SOMETHING to add a bit of drama.

St. Katherine's

We are starting to pin down the specifics of our itinerary for our trip to Egypt. Of course we are going to do all the usual things... take a camel ride near the pyramids, see the great Sphynx and go down the Nile river visiting various temples from the time of the Pharos.

But there is one other stop that I am really looking forward to . I plan to spend some time at St. Katherine's monastery.

This is what the Lonely Planet guide to Egypt says about it:

"Tucked into a barren valley at the foot of Mt. Sinai, the ancient St Katherine's Monastery has been a place of pilgrimage since the 4th century. It traces its founding to about 330 AD, when the Roman empress Helena had a small chapel and a fortified refuge for local hermits built beside what was believed to be the burning bush from which God spoke to Moses. In the 6th century Emperor Justinian ordered a fortress to be constructed around the original chapel, together with a basilica and a monastery, to provide a secure home for the monastic community that had grown here and as a refuge for the Christians of southern Sinai. Since then the monastery has been visited by pilgrims from throughout the world, many of whom braved extraordinarily difficult and dangerous journeys to reach the remote and isolated site. Today St. Katherine's is considered one of the oldest continually functioning monastic communities in the world, and its chapel is one of early Christianity's only surviving churches.

The monastery, which together with the surround area, has been declared a UNESCO World Heritage site, is named after St. Katherine, the legendary martyr of Alexandria, who was tortured on a spiked wheel and then beheaded for her faith. Tradition holds that her body was transported by angels away from the torture device (which spun out of control and killed the pagan onlookers) and onto the slopes of Egypt's highest mountain peak. The peak, which lies about 6km south of Mt Sinai, subsequently became known as Gebel Katarina. Katherine's body was subsequently "found" about 300 years later by monks from the monastery in a state of perfect preservation.

Today a Tarmac access road has removed the hazards that used to accompany a trip to the monastery. Although much of the monastery is closed to the public it is possible to enter the ornately decorated 6th century church of the Transfiguration, with its nave flanked by massive marble columns and walls covered in richly gilded icons and paintings. At the church's eastern end, a gilded 17th century iconastasis separates the nave from the sanctuary and the apse, where St Katherine's remained are interred (off limits to most visitors). High in the apse above the alter is one of the monastery's most stunning artistic treasures, a 6th century mosaic of the biblical account of the transfiguration of Christ. To the left of and below the altar is the monastery's holiest area, the chapel of the Burning Bush....

Near the burning bush is the Well of Moses, a natural spring that is supposed to give marital happiness to those who drink from it. Above the well is the superb Monastery Museum, also known as the Sacred Sacristy, which has recently been magnificently restored. It has displays (labeled in Arabic and English) of many of the monastery's artistic treasures, including some of the spectacular Byzantine-era icons from world famous collections, numerous precious chalices and gold and silver crosses, and a priceless collection of ancient manuscripts and illuminated Bibles from the monastery's library.

There are trails up Mt. Sinai for either hiking or camel route. They say the camel route is the easier way, and takes about two hours to ascend, going at a steady pace. The alternative path to the summit, the taxing 3750 Steps of Repentance, was laid by one monk as a form of penance. The steps, 3000 up to Elijah's basin, and then the final 750 to the summit, are made of roughly hewn rock and are steep and uneven in many places, requiring strong knees and concentration in placing your feet.

I'm thinking I'll do the camel route...

Such a privilege to visit this holy ground.

Although I am active LDS and deeply committed to my faith, my Orthodox friends have taught me much about the ancient faith. That has a lot to do with why I am interested in seeing this sacred site. But apart from any of that, just to be in a place with so much history - even if I didn't believe in all that I do about the reality of God, this would be an amazing experience.

Learning about Orthodoxy has been quite the spiritual adventure for me. I had the opportunity to visit St. Anthony's Monastery in Arizona (where I had the privilege of being in the presence of Elder Ephraim) and I've also been to St. John the Forerunner Monastery in Goldendale, WA.

I've learned about the fasts and feasts, the icons, the saints, the liturgies and the prayers. I've read several books about the history and teachings of the early monastics.

While my core spiritual beliefs have some very key differences from Orthodoxy, my spiritual life has been deeply enriched by pondering repentance as I've studied the life of St. Mary of Egypt and following my own version of observing Lent. I praised and celebrated with my pals as we each cried out "Christ is Risen" on Pascha morning. I was deeply honored to be invited to attend the baptism of young Milos, even though my church's position is quite opposed to infant baptism. It wasn't about who was right or who was wrong in what we each hold sacred - it was about every one of us honoring the Lord our God as we understand him to be and standing in holy places together to share that.

I do not expect that I will ever convert to Orthodoxy and I have absolutely no illusions than any of my Orthodox friends will consider investigation the doctrines of my faith. But we are able to set our differences aside to embrace each other as brothers and sisters in Christ and all of us have been enriched by it.

That is a mighty blessing indeed!

8 Cow Woman

I had some work to do around the house today - playing my "domestic godess" routine. So of course I dressed suitably for the occassion.... loose comfortable pants and my 8 cow woman T shirt. I always get strange looks from people when they see me wearing this shirt.

It is symbolic of the story of the Legend of Johnny Lingo. BYU produced a very cheesy movie depicting this story in back 1969. It's a classic in LDS culture, even though the original story the movie is based on had nothing to do with the church. There is a newer version of the movie out now, an expanded full feature film that adds way more production and backstory . Personally, I like the old 20 minute classic myself.

It is such a solid reminder of the power of social influence and labeling.

I have a lot in common with Mahana (called Sarita in original story). I grew up convinced I had no value. I lived in shadows, shame and fear. But I have this amazing man who came into my life, who treated me like I was worth more than any other woman he had ever known. His love and honoring of me, even when I have not been at my best, have made me want to be a better person. I am so blessed to have him as my life partner.

Hard to believe we will have been married for 25 years this November.

When I am with Larry, I truly feel like an 8 cow woman.

MAD LIBS

Do you remember playing mad libs when you were a kid....those crazy stories where you put in your choice of nouns, verbs, adjectives, etc to create your own individualized tale? I used some of these when I was teaching GED.

You can build your own fun story by going HERE.

Thanks to Naddin J over on "What On Earth Is That Smell" blog for posting this!