Yes to the Best

I’ve been thinking lately about how we become all of the things that we see, hear, read, and experience. We are a composite of all that has come before even when we forget it. Several years ago a good friend of mine was going through a rough patch, and her therapist recommended a little book of meditations entitled The Language of Letting Go by Melody Beattie. My friend gained so much insight and peace from it that it didn’t take much convincing on her part for me to get a copy for myself.

 

In a word, Wow. It seemed as though Melody’s words were written just for me. I bought and gave away several copies of it, and about a month ago, I realized that I no longer had a copy of my own. Thanks to Amazon.com, that problem was solved in a matter of days, and since that time, I’ve been rereading meaningful passages.

 

What’s on my mind today is the author’s treatment of the word yes, my word for last year. Why did I choose that word? Hmmm. After re-reading the August 8 meditation, I’m thinking that maybe I absorbed Melody’s advice into my own heart and soul so much that YES became a part of me. On the chance that her “yes words” might mean something to you, I’m going to list a few:
 

“We can learn to say yes to healthy relationships, to people and activities that are good for us.

We can learn to say yes to ourselves, what we want and need, our instincts, and the leading of our Higher Power.

We can learn to say yes when it feels right to help someone. We can learn to say yes to our feelings. We can learn to identify when we need to take a walk, take a nap, have our back rubbed, or buy ourselves flowers.

We can learn to say yes to work that is right for us.

We can learn to say yes to all that will nurture and nourish us. We can learn to say yes to the best life and love have to offer.”

 

Is that last line powerful or what??? The truth is that way…powerful.

 

 

Bird Babies

A weird and wonderful thing has happened. The tiny blue speckled eggs that Mama Bird has been so devotedly sitting on have hatched.

 

We’ve become so accustomed to seeing her tiny head right in the middle of the eucalyptus wreath where she built her nest that I was a little surprised not to see it this morning. Had I scared her away just by opening the door that leads to the breezeway? I sort of slunk over to the nest not knowing what to expect, and when I peered over into the nest, well, I was astounded. There was fuzzy stuff, lots of it. I stepped back, smiling in disbelief at what I’d seen. After a few seconds, I looked again, and this time I saw movement and lots of pink that I presume were their little bodies. This little drama had just unfolded before my eyes…was in fact still unfolding.

 

When DH awoke and went to check out the miracle, the moving pink mass was even larger, and a few hours later, we saw their little mouths open and waiting for a juicy worm or two. The fuzz that I’d seen earlier was more detectable (drier?), and I knew I was looking at the beginnings of feathers.

 

It has taken weeks for the eggs to hatch, and their fine feathered mother has been faithful in making sure she did her part to bring them to life. Now she appears to be just as determined to sustain their lives by nurturing their tiny bodies. Moments ago, I saw her perched on the side of her nest, leaning over and apparently doing something to/for them.

 

I’m in awe. Life, bird or human, is miraculous, and I’m glad for this recent reminder. These little birds came from eggs, and so did we. I’m told that the human egg cell is about the size of a period at the end of one of these sentences. Just think about that! Our eye color, temperament, predisposition to certain disease, innate abilities, and so many other attributes are all determined by the unique combination of chromosomes and genes within a tiny fertilized egg. If that isn’t a miracle, what is?

 

 

Homecoming Ritual

My daughter has done this to me before, so turn about’s fair play, right? If there’s anything more wonderful than having children and grandchildren for which to be grateful, it’s having a son-in-law who “hangs the moon” in my opinion and in the opinion of his wife and children. Making this blessing even sweeter is the knowledge that my daughter knows and appreciates what a super person he is.

 

That said, here’s something I cut and pasted from her blog. “I must say that my husband is a fantastic father, and his children absolutely adore him! Every afternoon at around 5 the garage door opens, and the world stops, at least in our home it does. The screams reverberate off the walls, “DADDY IS HOME!” Toys are thrown to the side, games forgotten, and books left on the floor, as 3 children run and crawl to get to their precious daddy. Nothing speaks louder than pictures, and here are a few I took yesterday of our daily ritual of racing to get to Daddy. Sad I know, poor little Emma wants attention so bad. Don’t worry though, Rich has plenty of love to go around; she was quickly swept up in his arms with the other two hoodlums.”

 

In my opinion, nothing is more important than LOVE in raising children. What a wonderful world it would be if all of God’s children could have this treatment.

 

Peace on Earth

 Just a quick thought about something I’ve been thinking about off and on throughout the day. It seems that most of the talks and lessons I heard this morning were about relationships with other people, and I think how we treat other people is the best indicator of just what kind of Christian we really are. Carol’s excellent Sacrament talk based on one of President Hinkley’s former addresses set the tone as she reminded us that we are to treat ALL people with respect and acceptance…not just those who have the same skin color or bank account balances.

 

Can we call ourselves one of His followers when we don’t actually show love, respect, kindness, or mercy to others? When we’re rude, dismissive, or even cruel in our comments and actions, is that Christ-like? Did He tease, taunt, or bully others? I think we all know the answer to that. Did He kowtow to the leaders of the day and look down on the lepers, sinners, and poor? Of course not.

 

In Relief Society, the women’s organization, Cookie (love that name!) made the remark that put the icing on the cake. She said that one night after she and her husband had asked for peace on earth during their family prayer, he remarked that perhaps they (like all of us) could begin by sowing more seeds of peace within their own home. If more of us did that, I’m convinced that it could have far reaching effects.

 

Peace in the home could extend to peace in the workplace and from there to the community itself. Even at Wal-Mart, McDonald’s, and the DMV, if we could act with more kindness and sow peaceful seeds, it would make a difference. It makes sense to me that if we pray for something, we’re expected to act to make it “come to pass.”

 

Praying is easy; acting on our prayers requires more effort. As of today, I’m going to make more of a concerted effort to bring about peace on earth, beginning in my own little sphere.

Conference Thoughts

I recently received an email asking for thoughts and impressions related to the most recent General Conference, and Sunday afternoon, I found a few minutes to respond. Every talk was uplifting, inspirational, and informative, thus making it difficult to narrow my comments. Nevertheless, here’s what I sent:

 The “Saints of the South” sometimes feel left out, so I greatly appreciate this opportunity to allow us to share some feelings and impressions about our recent conference.   

 In addition to the beautiful, soul-stirring music, here are some of my personal highlights from Sunday’s sessions:

• Dieter Uchtdorf’s reminder that the gospel is sweet, good, and precious and his story about President Monson focusing “on the one.” 
• Todd Christofferson message that some things are communicated spirit to spirit without words and his encouragement to continue pressing forward with a brightness of hope and love of God and all men.
• Susan B. Tanner’s analogy of Abraham and Isaac walking to Mt. Moriah with the circumstances in our lives. Abraham didn’t know there would be a ram in the thicket but he acted in faith and so must we. We don’t know what’s ahead, but we must have faith and remember that there will be a ram.
• President Monson’s inspirational talk, especially his comments about making our homes a place where God’s spirit can dwell, thus stopping the storms of life at the door. His loving reminders about the need to show kindness and respect for all people everywhere. I actually felt chills listening to his encouragement to those who’ve been away to come back and feast at the table of the Lord. No pressure, no threats, just a heartfelt invitation.
• Elder Bednar comments on prayer. We are to pray and press forward, pray and take action. For instance, he instructed us to do more than pray for missionary success. We need to HELP them to be successful. In our own lives, we are to pray for direction and then discern and accept the will of the Lord.
• M. Russell Ballard’s assertion that no role is more essential or important than motherhood.

 The overall feeling of peace and love was communicated to anyone listening, and I greatly appreciated President Monson’s closing remarks and his desire that we could incorporate the many messages into our lives. What about the rest of my LDS friends? What were some of your favorite talks or most memorable messages?

 

Mama Bird

A few weeks ago I put a spring wreath on the front door, one of eucalyptus and fake pink flowers. Nice and round like most wreaths, I enjoyed looking at it…and smelling it too. One day I noticed with dismay that it seemed a bit elongated. Hmmm. What was going on? The next day as I was standing by the door talking on the phone, I took a closer look at the wreath and could have sworn that it was growing. Peering a bit closer, I was astonished to see a small bird’s nest and a tiny blue egg. Who built the nest, and where was she? The next day there were two eggs, but I still hadn’t seen Mama Bird. A couple of days later, I was saddened to see that one of the eggs had splattered on the front steps. When I took a peek into the nest, however, there were still two eggs. That was a week ago, and now there are four.

 

We’re watching this little drama with great interest. DH noticed that every time we approached the door, the mama would fly away to a nearby tree and wait until the coast was clear before returning to sit on her eggs. Now we noticed that she doesn’t wait so long; within seconds, she’s back. We know that she feels the need to sit on these developing little eggs so that they can hatch into sparrows like she is, and we’ve begun cooperating by using another entrance/exit. This morning when I left for an early morning walk, I left through a back door that necessitated walking around the house in order to get to the road. Not that it was a problem. It’s just that it hit me that the baby chick development has become a priority for us.

 

Why am I relating this story? Because as I was out walking this morning, I found myself thinking about mothers and babies. Whether human or bird, mothers do a lot of the same things, and humans could take a few lessons from our feathered friends. This little mama takes her mothering responsibilities seriously. Instead of gadding about all over the neighborhood, she stays right in the nest protecting and nurturing her eggs. Although there’s a lot to be experienced in the environment, she realizes that the most important thing she can do right now is be there for her baby birds’ development. Once in a while she’ll fly away, but she always comes back ASAP. After the babies are hatched, she’ll venture out to get a few juicy worms for her little brood, but for the most part, she’ll stay right there with them. At some point, she’ll “kick them out of the nest” for their own good…and hers too. Mama birds aren’t enablers.

 

I also realized that just as DH and I are doing our part to assist her, human mothers need others to assist them. Whether it’s advice, free babysitting, a casserole, or words of encouragement, mothers would appreciate it.  I know all these things because I’m a mother and a grandmother, and Mama Sparrow has reminded me of some truths.

Follow up on Cooper River

We awoke at 4:15 a.m. to the sound of a gentle rain and a forecast for thunderstorms across the state. “Do you think we could find another way to honor Mama’s birthday besides driving to Charleston and going across the bridge?” Ann asked, her tone a mixture of hope and doubt. I considered her question about ten seconds before saying, “I vote that we head in that direction and make a final decision as we get closer.” After all, Marjorie Ann didn’t raise her children to be quitters at the first sign of adversity…or that’s what I told myself.

 

We drove along in darkness until nearly 7:00, by which time we had arrived in Mt. Pleasant. Traffic was already awful, and we had to inch along in traffic until we finally found a spot in a grassy parking area. By now it was 7:20, and there were thousands and thousands of people talking animatedly, posing for pictures, and working their way to the start line. The energy was electrifying, and that’s no exaggeration. Someone was playing the National Anthem on a saxophone…LOVED it. We saw a family dressed as a bunch of bananas, a man sort of sitting in an inflatable horse, several men dressed in red dresses, someone dressed as Superman, two people attired in Batman costumes, and too many other interesting outfits to mention.

 

Ann and I separated almost right away because she was determined to walk the whole way, and I was just as determined to do a little jogging and a little walking. I couldn’t help but remember the days when I would never allow myself to walk (only jog) until I had reached downtown Charleston. Those days are long gone. Now I just have fun and enjoy the event as I make my way down Coleman Boulevard, over the awesome bridge, and through the streets of historic Charleston.

 

This year the turnout of encouraging, supportive people seemed extraordinary in number and enthusiasm. There were shouts of “You’re looking good,” and “You can do it,” all along King Street. There was also a lot more music, and I know the other participants enjoyed it as much as we did.  There appeared to be many more volunteers offering water and directions, and I later learned there were 2500 of them. I hope they know how much their efforts were appreciated. Oh, and those water sprays were ultra refreshing.

 

As I crossed the finish line, I heard the announcer say that 19,000 people had now completed the 6.2 mile distance, and I felt good to know that I was in the top half…even if it was the bottom of that half! I also recalled that in my first few years of “doing the bridge,” there were only a couple of thousand participants in the entire event. Someone told me that in the first year, there weren’t even 100. This year, there were so many of us crossing together that I didn’t even see my nephew Greg and his fiancée Anna who crossed hearing the same message.

 

We went on to the park for a feast of apples, oranges, bagels, muffins, and bananas…all compliments of Piggly Wiggly. Oh, and there was water…thousands and thousands of bottles of Dasani. Al Gore would have been pleased to note that the plastic bottles were being recycled.  Highlights of the park finish for me have always been the music and the Chick fil-A cows dancing to the band’s tunes. This year was especially tremendous because the cows had apparently learned to line dance, and they were irresistible to watch. Several race participants joined them on the stage.

 

Ann, Greg, Anna, and I boarded a shuttle that took us back to Mt. Pleasant, all the time chatting about our fun day. It took a lot of effort to get up so early, drive to Charleston, exert the energy, and then drive home, but we all agreed that it was well worth it. By the way, the morning was sunny and warm…a reminder not to let naysayers or weathermen determine your decisions

 

One more detail is worth mentioning. Remember how I mentioned that Ann and I did this to commemorate our mother’s birthday? Well, get this. After we did a little shopping at TJ Maxx, we decided to grab a bite to eat at Cici’s Pizza. To us, it was no coincidence that a little girl was celebrating her birthday there. When her friends sang “Happy Birthday,” I was thinking of another “girl” born on April 5^.

 

Will you join us next year? You won’t regret it.

“Doing the Bridge” for Mama

Tomorrow my sister and I are participating in the Cooper River Bridge Run/Walk, and we’re doing it in honor of our mother.

My sweet Mama (yes, in caps) would have been 79 tomorrow if the “big C” hadn’t taken her life in 2000. Although she’s been physically absent for seven and 1/2 years, her children and grandchildren feel her impact in their lives on a daily basis. Emotionally, spiritually, socially, and in every other way you can think of, my mother was exceptional. Funny, feisty, pretty, kind, generous, competent, loving, smart, and talented, Marjorie Ann was the BEST! Even now, I think of the advice she gave, the sacrifices she made, and the example she set. (My dad was pretty awesome too, but it’s not his birthday tomorrow).

 My children loved her too, and I’m sure Carrie, Elizabeth, and Katherine remember the summer that they all spent a week with her. Everyday was an adventure.  By week’s end, they had visited out of town relatives, made shift dresses using a sewing machine for the first time, written a play to perform at the end of the week, visited area attractions posing as tourists, had their hair cut and styled, and forged an even closer bond with each other. Somehow Marjorie got them all on a schedule which none complained about it. For instance, they ate the evening meal at 6:00 p.m. sharp, and after that the kitchen was closed except for juice at 8:00. Somehow Mama managed to have the cousins think that having juice together around the kitchen table was a treat to be savored. My sister and I still marvel at that because in our homes, it seems that the kitchen is open 24/7,  and our family members complain if there’s orange juice instead of apple…or vice versa.

Tomorrow as we cross the bridge with thousands of other people, Mama will be on our minds…just as she is everyday. It’s important to honor our parents, and I’m thrilled that the Bridge Run falls on her birthday this year because it gives us a chance to celebrate her birth and life in a more special way.

Fog Thoughts

Was it just a week ago that we were touring the Gaylord Opryland Resort and Convention Center? What an awesome place. Even now I can hear the sound of the waterfalls and feel peace. Alas, Spring Break is now a fond memory, lots of them actually. In no particular order, a few include: the snow on the way to Nashville accompanied by a sudden drop in temperature, dining at Applebee’s at 11 p.m. with other Opry attendees, the sweet deals at the Opry Mills Mall, the Country Music Hall of Fame, the almost reverent feeling of the site of the Battle of Chicamauga, riding through Berry College where DH played baseball a few decades ago, and the beauty of the magnificent Ryman Auditorium.  

Driving to work in the heavy fog this morning, I found myself fretting over a couple of challenging issues and thinking of how it’d be nice to escape on another mini-vacation. Alas, that’s not going to happen any time soon! I looked to my left and saw the sun barely coming up on the horizon. Despite the thick fog, I could sense its orange glow and knew the brightness it foretold. I also thought how that same sun would be on the other side of the road, still on my left, as I journeyed back home at day’s end.

I remembered the sliver of the moon that DH and I had spied high in the sky as he left for work in the predawn stillness. Ten miles into my trip, the fog lifted, and world around me came more into focus and illuminated. It then occurred to me (as it has many times) that people in different parts of the world are sleeping. It didn’t take much of a stretch to then ponder all of the mysteries of the universe.

By the time I arrived at work, my challenging issues didn’t seem quite so taxing. After all, if God can control the sun, moon, planets, stars, fog, snow, rain, and the growth of lovely spring flowers, can’t I trust Him to handle my little challenges? President Hinckley used to say, “Things will work out.” And they will.