Chiropractor for camels

I had a rotten morning (back stories aplenty!) and I was about to turn to this blog and ask both of you out there,

What do you do when you don't know what to do? How do you move forward when you can barely stand?

But then, in the quiet of my empty house, and with no one here to see my tears, or care, I allowed myself to calm down enough to notice the tiny seeds of happier thoughts. 

I already had the answer.

Earlier this month I gave a Relief Society lesson at church. (Yes, my nearly seven-year stint as choir accompanist, which I joked was the one calling that insured I would not sing in the choir, has ended. But they still got me: now I have leadership meetings during choir practice.)

Anyway, as part of the lesson I dissected one of my favorite passages of scripture, 2 Nephi 4:17-28, which I long ago labeled in the margin, "How Nephi overcame guilt to find peace." Most recently I added the word "discouragement" above guilt. In teeny tiny letters I also wrote, "I love this passage! 9/16/97." I don't recall the circumstances that time, but whenever I revisit that page on hard days, my little note inspires me to internalize those scriptures once more.

I consider Nephi a valiant, faithful force for good. He is a hero to me. So to see that he also struggled, but overcame, makes him inspiringly relatable.  I should point out this scriptural interpretation is purely mine, that the beauty of the scriptures is how they can speak to you personally.

All the same, let me share the formula I have learned from these verses:

First we see that Nephi is discouraged. Wallowing in self-pity, even. His father just died, and Nephi is surely overwhelmed.

17 Nevertheless, notwithstanding the great ^agoodness of the Lord, in showing me his great and marvelous works, my heart exclaimeth: O ^bwretched man that I am! Yea, my heart^csorroweth because of my flesh; my soul grieveth because of mine iniquities.

 18 I am encompassed about, because of the temptations and the sins which do so easily ^abeset me.

 19 And when I desire to rejoice, my heart groaneth because of my sins; nevertheless, I know in whom I have ^atrusted.

1. Desire to feel better.

20 My God hath been my ^asupport; he hath led me through mine ^bafflictions in the wilderness; and he hath preserved me upon the waters of the great deep.

 21 He hath filled me with his ^alove, even unto the ^bconsumingof my flesh.

 22 He hath confounded mine ^aenemies, unto the causing of them to quake before me.

 23 Behold, he hath heard my cry by day, and he hath given me^aknowledge by ^bvisions in the night-time.

2. Count your blessings. Recognize God's hand in your life.

24 And by day have I waxed bold in mighty ^aprayer before him; yea, my voice have I sent up on high; and angels came down and ministered unto me.

 25 And upon the wings of his Spirit hath my body been^acarried away upon exceedingly high mountains. And mine eyes have beheld great things, yea, even too great for man; therefore I was bidden that I should not write them.

3. Realize your God-given strengths and your capacity to develop more.

26 O then, if I have seen so great things, if the Lord in his condescension unto the children of men hath ^avisited men in so much ^bmercy, ^cwhy should my ^dheart weep and my soul linger in the valley of sorrow, and my flesh waste away, and my strength slacken, because of mine afflictions?

 27 And why should I ^ayield to sin, because of my flesh? Yea, why should I give way to ^btemptations, that the evil one have place in my heart to destroy my ^cpeace and afflict my soul? Why am I ^dangry because of mine enemy?

 28 Awake, my soul! No longer ^adroop in sin. Rejoice, O my heart, and give place no more for the ^benemy of my soul.

4. Recommit to move forward and do your very best, knowing God will help you. 

34 O Lord, I have ^atrusted in thee, and I will ^btrust in thee forever. I will not put my ^ctrust in the arm of flesh; for I know that cursed is he that putteth his ^dtrust in the arm of flesh. Yea, cursed is he that putteth his trust in man or maketh flesh his arm.

 35 Yea, I know that God will give ^aliberally to him that asketh. Yea, my God will give me, if I ^bask ^cnot amiss; therefore I will lift up my voice unto thee; yea, I will cry unto thee, my God, the^drock of my ^erighteousness. Behold, my voice shall forever ascend up unto thee, my rock and mine everlasting God. Amen.

I am grateful for the scriptures. Nitro-glycerin Samuel (you know, explosive unless handled correctly) surprised me this week with his sweet, unbidden observation, "Heavenly Father gave us the scriptures because he wants us to learn." And learn and learn again.

Dizzy

Sometimes I look in my children's faces and see with perfect clarity their position and feelings in the moment. I see the happiness of an afternoon at the park, the simple thrill of riding the merry-go-round. I see the disgust of having to get out of a warm bed on a Monday morning, or the lip-licking determination of writing each and every spelling word without a mistake.

Other times it's trickier. Last night I sat across from my cursing, confused teenage son on the couch. I bored into his root beer-colored eyes trying to penetrate his anger. What lay beneath? I was seeking understanding of the 17-year-old, yes, but instead I was washed with memories of the 2-year-old so long ago who freely smiled and hugged and loved. And the picture in my mind's eye of the happy toddler blurred into the peach-fuzzed, broken-nose boy before me. They are one and the same, each my son.

Sometimes I like blurry photographs. (I like to make them on purpose!) I like the way they convey motion, or the split-second trap between what has already happened, and what may happen next. I like their artsy, impressionist painting quality -- the way imagination fills in the gaps, or how certain elements are discernible despite the blur, as with James's smile below:

There are times when I look into my children's faces and my perspective is distorted by expectation. Other times the expression in front of me is all the more vivid because I know the efforts a child took to put on a brave face.

I look at my children, sometimes, and see all at once their past and hopeful trajectories.

It makes my head spin and takes my breath away, and keeps me craning to see more.



Photos taken April 1, 2013. Elise, 11; James, 9: Samuel, 5

It used to be my favorite number

My week at a glance ...


Morning trips to the high school with sophomore Emma because her senior brother wasn't ready to take her on time: 3

Wallet raids to ply Kyle with cash because, "Mom, I don't think I have enough gas to make it": 3

Consecutive nights of scrambling to feed my family (but no time for myself) before leaving to attend a meeting: 3

Consecutive nights of coming home to a dirty kitchen and the family watching TV: 3

Church meetings I was expected to attend Wednesday simultaneously: 3

Portion of jars of tomatoes that did not seal after hours of canning: one-third

Family members who have met my requests for house-cleaning help with "Why can't you do it? You're here all day": 3 (only two were children -- contemplate that math)

Big-ticket items picking a fight: 3 (fridge, van, computer)

Handheld deliveries of Samuel to his classroom door because he is fearful to enter: 3

Minutes I'm allowed to vent before laughing and soldiering on: you guessed it, 3

Grateful reminders that these are "first world" frustrations: many

Elementary-age children about to burst through the door with news of their day: 3

Hugs I will get seconds from now: 3


Ah, 3 is looking good ...

Never Faileth

Someone called me and said some very hurtful things. I was devastated. So much so, that when Jeff came into the room soon after and saw me practically hyper-ventilating, he thought I had received news of a loved one's death. Now, I know I'm sensitive, but I am also quite capable of donning a tough skin when I need to, of seeing another's rants for what they are: just words. This time, though, my tough skin was hung out of reach and the words penetrated me all the more deeply because they came from someone I thought was a friend.

What the person said is not important anymore; it never was, really. I won't share it. What is important is how I learned to move on.

I knew it was wrong to get back at this person. Still, I thought it was perfectly reasonable for me to withdraw and avoid future interactions. I decided I would be kind IF I encountered this person, but darn-it-all, I wouldn't make social calls. That decided, I prayed for help overcoming my sadness.

I wasn't thinking of the other person as I prayed. Much to my surprise, the Spirit told me I needed to embrace and love that person who had hurt me. I saw a glimpse of her heart, and was filled with the realization that she is a daughter of Heavenly Father. too.

That week I was teaching a church lesson to the 7- and 8-year-olds. Our lesson covered the period when many of the early Latter-day Saints were driven out of their homes in Jackson, Missouri, by angry, resentful townspeople. Scriptures record that Heavenly Father repeatedly told the saints to "bear it patiently." (Doctrine and Covenants 98:23-24.) This counsel put my so-called persecution in pale perspective; surely I could deal with my small plight, too.

Lastly, I had gone to the temple the day before my encounter. I often think of going to the temple for guidance after something happens, and indeed I have gone to the temple since. I learned, however, that regular temple attendance protects me pro-actively. It arms me with power to deflect certain darts. That temple visit had been a particularly sweet one for its confirmation of my worth, and even though the incident still hurt me deeply, I think it could have affected me far, far worse.

I found peace. Still I wondered, why did this happen? What am I supposed to learn?

The incident still fresh on my mind, I was reading Daughters in My Kingdom, a book about the history of the Relief Society women's organization in my church. The words of our prophet Thomas S. Monson hit me with force: (read his whole talk here)

I consider charity -- or "the pure love of Christ" -- to be the opposite of criticism and judging. In speaking of charity, I do not at this moment have in mind the relief of the suffering through the giving of our substance. That, of course, is necessary and proper. Tonight, however, I have in mind the charity that manifests itself when we are tolerant of others and lenient toward their actions, the kind of charity that forgives, the kind of charity that is patient.

I have in mind the charity that impels us to be sympathetic, compassionate, and merciful, not only in times of sickness and affliction and distress but also in times of weakness or error on the part of others.

There is a serious need for the charity that gives attention to those who are unnoticed, hope to those who are discouraged, aid to those who are afflicted. True charity is love in action. There is need for charity everywhere.

Charity is having patience with someone who has let us down. It is resisting the impulse to become offended easily. It is accepting weaknesses and shortcomings.

Without knowing it, or even labeling it as such, I was being schooled in charity. That was what I needed to learn.

Members of my faith often joke about the "Sunday School answers" -- certain words and phrases it's safe to utter when fielding a class question. Phrases like ... drumroll, please ...  prayer, scripture study and temple worship. Yet I can decisively say these are the very practices that helped me overcome my hurt, and to emerge on the other side with a better understanding of how my Heavenly Father would like me to be.

What about the person who called me? That story goes on. It has been hard, but yes, I have reached out. I don't think she knows how much she hurt me, but her apology is not necessary for my forgiveness. I'm willing to let that go. I still don't understand her motives -- nor may I ever -- but I have learned I don't need to understand this to be able to move forward. 

"Charity never faileth," the scriptures teach us. I used to think that showing charity -- by being kind and loving -- was a successful formula for dealing with people. It is. What I'm learning more and more, however, is that charity's greatest triumph is the change we make inside ourselves.