Pivotal Friends

Three days ago, our family had just finished a big dinner together.  We were full and happy, and the air had everything in it that I love about Fall.  To perfectly set-off the year's holiday spark, afterwards we plopped ourselves down on the family room floor and turned on The Polar Express.  (Is it crazy that I get a little choked up just sitting here, remembering it, while typing in the title?)  I love this movie.  I love how it epitomizes the magical spirit of Christmas.  I love that it is about faith and love, and believing in something bigger and sweeter than your finest dreams.  But, there is one moment that I love, more than all the others.

There is this poor, little boy who ends up boarding the train.  He is the only kid on the train whose name the viewers are privileged to know.  He is Billy.  He's the little boy who has watched life let him down over and over again.  He is the little boy who is wondering if hanging on to that last strand of hope is even worth it.  By the end of the movie, he ends up receiving three amazing gifts.

The first is the Christmas he always wanted, with the tree, and the lights, and the big present with his name on it, wrapped up in a bow.  The second gift is even greater.  It is the gift of two new, trustworthy friends.  The third gift though, is of the highest value, and ultimately, my most favored.  It is in the words that the conductor punches into his golden train ticket.  Three phrases.

Rely on.  Count on.  Depend on.

There was a time in my life when I truly believed that anyone who had ever professed to love me would eventually stop.  Not just stop, but completely turn away from me.  The voices in my head would say things like, "Oh, they love you now, but they'll soon leave you, just you wait."  It sounds awful and sad.  And, it was.

As a full-fledged grown-up now, I can see how and when this fear surfaced.  Sadly too, I was just a kid.  So, things that didn't even relate would still somehow solidify the fear.  Every time we moved and I lost people I loved, any time a relative or friend would pass away, any time a crush would fade or a relationship would end, my immature head would turn it into fate, a curse, the inevitable.  Whatever you want call it.  It was there for a long time, telling me that love wouldn't last.

And then, there came a moment.  A moment when I was wondering if that last strand of hope was even worth hanging onto.  Pivotal.

Now, I was like Billy.  I had already been granted two amazing gifts.  The first… I knew God.  I knew that He listened to me.  I knew that He was aware of me and all that surrounded me.  I knew His love well enough that I could recognize blessings that He had put in my path.  Even when I was very young.  I knew that He knew that I was capable.  The second… I had friends.  No matter how many times we moved, there was always some amazing soul that embraced me in friendship.  These weren't just your average, run-of-the-mill friends, either.  They were quality.  They let me laugh and relax.  They gave me compliments that I remember to this day.  They had no idea that compliments were scarce for me.  They let me see the other side of the looking glass.  They lifted me, rescued me, loved me, and let me really live in their friendship.

These gifts sustained me, but my third gift, the pivotal one… the third gift made me.

At the time, certain circumstances in my life were crushing, and I lacked everything that I needed to leave them behind.  I was so stuck and it was killing me.  But, I had this friend.  This amazing, selfless friend.  She had talked to her mom about me, and together they made one beautiful decision.  They offered me a place in their home.  Gift number three.

I recently got the chance to thank her personally for all that she did for me.  Even now though, I know that I didn't do it justice.  Her whole family embraced me.  Her brothers teased me.  Her sister inspired me.  Her mom filled me with amazing food.  Their family dinners were epic.  Their home buzzed.  She gave me everything.  She let me see a real home, not a perfect home, but a home filled with real love.  She let me sink so deep… deep enough that I could start climbing out.  She made me laugh.  And laugh.  She gave me joy.  Honest joy.  And, she relied on me too.  She let me be a friend back.  And, then, she was honest with me.  They all were.  They pushed me, and I learned to make it.  Without them, I never could have.  Because of her.  Because of them.  I learned to… rely on, count on, and depend on.

I suppose God saw what a gift He gave me in her, because years later, when I was a young mom with three little munchkins and one very busy husband, and I felt like I had nothing left for anyone else but my tiny crew, God gave me another pivotal friend.  No matter what I said or did, she wouldn't leave me alone.  She called me and invited me to everything.  Everything.  In fact, she'd act like it was my idea to go in the first place.  She'd want to do crazy things like get our families together for dinner, or carpool for preschool, or go out for one serious girls night.  At first, I thought it was all insane.  After all, who on earth needed to be that social!  Plus, she had no idea how much her idea of fun pulled me out of my happy little comfort zone.  And then, one day, it dawned on me how un-lonely I was.  I had had no idea that I even needed a friend at that time in my life, but Heavenly Father knew, and she was it.  Perfectly insistent.  Perfectly stubborn.  Perfect.  She taught me again how much I could rely on true friends, and how beautiful it felt when I knew, that they knew, that they could also depend on me.

And now?  I am blessed beyond measure.

You have no idea.

After every phone call, after every girls night out or late night walk, after every book club, church event or double date, I am rejoicing.  Rejoicing in my greatest gifts.

Above all, I know from whom they come.  President Monson recently counseled us, "May we ever strive to be close to our Heavenly Father.  To do so we must pray to Him and listen to Him every day.  We truly need Him every hour, whether they be hours of sunshine or of rain.  May His promise ever be our watchword:  'I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee.'"

Never forsake.  Never.

Rely on, count on, depend on, for His friendship will not fail.

Better

There is this pigeon that resides four houses down, to the left of us, near the tree in the side yard.  He's not a boastful pigeon.  And, to be honest, I am taking great liberties in even calling him a "he".  Who knows what lies beneath those feathers?  But, he is a beautiful pigeon.  While I wouldn't go so far as to call him a strutter,  he is definitely one who likes to "step out", which he does for the better part of each day.  I doubt that there is anyone within our neighborhood who has not taken notice of this unique, little guy.  He stands out, but he doesn't flaunt.  And, he makes you smile, whether you like pigeons, or not.  I keep thinking that he had to have once resided with one of those pigeon fanatics.  Fed with the best bird seed...pampered in a lovingly built chicken wire cage.  I keep thinking, "This guy won't stay around forever.  Eventually he'll remember where he really belongs."  But, every morning, there he is, walking with that pitter-patter pigeon gait in his oh, so familiar spot.  Making our little gravel landscaped street a little more beautiful…a little bit better.

The most remarkable thing about our local pigeon?

He is stark white.

What I admire most about him?

As a pigeon, he is nothing spectacular.  He still does his pigeon things.  The sidewalk beneath him is not any cleaner than you would think it would be.  Some may even say that his pure-white coloring comes from a defect of sorts.  Or, that his coloring is not unique at all, only out-of-place.  But he, in his own small way, makes my pocket-sized world, better.

I have been thinking the past two days about one thing…

Is the world better because I am in it?

Do I help or do I hinder?  When there is gossip to spread, am I the one who gives it "lift-off", or the one who changes hearts?  When judgements could so easily be made, does my focus lie in them, or in my ability to love, extend, cheer, or revive?  Do I add?

Do I add?

On a scale, where do I lie?  Each time I complain, gossip, judge, succumb, interfere, frustrate or dishearten, my scale is tipped.  Crazy thing is?  In order to get the scale back to it's level state, I don't need to add a ton of actions to compensate for my cynism and criticism, I only need to just remove those actions which prevent me from being steady, serene and true.  Those actions which prevent me from making the world better.

In the Bible, Hannah is rejoicing after the blessed birth of her first son, Samuel, a true gift from God, and a boy whom she whole-heartedly gives back to God in service.  In her prayer of thanksgiving she praises the exalted Lord, and then she says, "Talk no more exceedingly proudly; let not arrogance come out of your mouth: for the Lord is a God of knowledge, and by Him our actions are weighed."

We have no right to strut.  When we do, our scales are tipped too low.  We have no right to judge.  Each time that we do, we hinder.

All of us are pigeons.  One of many.

Moses stated, "I know that man is nothing, which thing I had never supposed."  But he also knew, as professed by Elder Uchtdorf, that "we are everything to God."

Through the embrace of a loving Heavenly Father, do we sincerely make the world better, or do we forget Him and consistently hold it back?

Is it really just that easy, to "add"?

It is.

Every Soul

You know that moment, just before you wake up, when your dream state suddenly becomes conscious of that incessant alarm beeping its "Good Morning" call on the other side of the bed?  Well, my body kinda does that, too.  Just before I get really sick, I have a day or two where I just do not feel up to par.  My teeth hurt, my throat is strained, my ankles are tired, my muscles have a dull ache, I'm too thirsty and not hungry enough, and I could literally sleep all day.  This is my alarm, telling me to take it easy, or else I will wake up the following day truly ill.

This used to drive me nuts, and, if I am honest, sometimes still does.  Usually I'd handle it marvelously well.  (note the not-so-slight sarcasm) I'd be stubborn and do even more.  I'd ignore it and think that hypochondria must run deeper in my veins than I thought.  Or, I'd get mad at it, and feel guilty for it's indication that I was "less than".  "Less than" what I am not sure, but definitely "less".

Why did I think that way?  I have no idea.

I mean, I have some theories that make perfect sense.  The only thing that doesn't make sense is why I put any validity into those theories.  I'm stubborn enough, I should've written them off long ago.

Kinda crazy what we hang onto.

I have this quote hanging in my hallway that states, "Once you become consciously aware of just how powerful your thoughts are, you will realize everything in your life is exactly how YOU allow it to be."  That was written by Melanie Moushigian Koulouris.  I have no idea who she is.  I should probably Google her name sometime, and see what other brilliant things come up.  But, this statement of hers, is commanding...compelling, I can't decide which one it is more than the other.

Is everything in my life really exactly how I allow it to be?

I don't know.  When you grow up a victim, even a strong, faithful victim, little processes of thought get stuck in your head.  You feel guilty for nothing, and nearly pressured in everything.  But, I believe that working out the kinks of our thought processes is a lifetime effort, no matter who you are or how you were raised.

One of my favorite hymns says, "Know this.  That every soul is free."  We all have that agency within us.  Yes, we are all influenced by that which surrounds us, but we have all been given that great gift from God to "choose for ourselves".  It comes at a price, but not even one that we had to pay.  Our Savior paid that price.  Our faith in Him frees us to change.  Because of the safety of His atoning love for us, we are, as we follow His will, able to "become new creatures"…to "choose the good"…to "hope with surety"…to "choose our lives and what we'll be.  For this eternal truth was given, that God will force no man to heaven.  He'll call, persuade, direct aright, and guide with wisdom, love and light.  In every way be good and kind, but never force the human mind."

We blame too many things on everyone, everything, but ourselves.

I memorized that hymn when I was a teenager.  I only know three verses by heart, and kept thinking that there must have been a verse that I had forgotten.  So I looked it up.  And, there is…

May we no more our pow’rs abuse,
But ways of truth and goodness choose;
Our God is pleased when we improve
His grace and seek his perfect love.

 I recently learned about grace and what it really is.  Grace is "the free and unmerited favor of God".  Grace encompasses all those blessings, talents, experiences, love, happiness, etc., that we receive from God, not related to the obedience of any commandment, the holiness of our actions, the depth and breadth of our faith, or because we even deserve it.  Grace is what we receive from God just because He is God.  When we "improve" His grace, we take these unmerited favors gratefully, and kindly let them increase the light within us.  When we do this, we find His perfect love.

It is amazing to me, when I ponder on the small things of life, how it often leads me to the larger truths.

I am still not feeling up to par.  I smile as I type that, because it seems so nearly pathetic after such a proclamation of God's love for us.  And, yet, the truth of the matter is, I am a human.  I am a stay at home mom.  I live a simple existence, full of great periods of solitude wrapped in rushing moments of parenthood.  And, in this simple existence, little things like waking up not feeling so good, make a difference.  It means I cannot run today.  It means I'm not up playing with the kids.  It means I fall asleep while my toddler watches Sesame Street in the bed beside me.  It means I cannot pull out that sheet music I was dying to practice.  It means a simple dinner, one which I will ask for help with from the kids.  It means having patience with myself and whatever clutter gathers in my home.  It means staying at home and forgoing library storytime today.  It means putting off my errands until tomorrow.  It means a lot of time to think and think, and try to not think.

Wow.  I have literally taken you on a hike in this post.  Up to the summit and right back down again.

So.  Is everything in my life just as I allow it to be?  Probably.  But, now I am determined to seek out what I want it to be.

And, what do I want?

I want to wake up, feeling a little bit under the weather, just plain rejoicing.  Rejoicing that God has given me my own warning system, knowing that if I just pamper myself for a day or two, I'll avoid a 2 week long illness.  Rejoicing that I can slow down and take a minute to just see my kids.  Rejoicing that I have seasons of Gilmore Girls just begging me to watch them, and a book club book calling to me.  Rejoicing that I have an excuse for making a simple dinner and letting mundane tasks slide for a bit.  Rejoicing that storytime today means on my lap, in my sweats, with my kids hair tickling my face as I read to her.  Rejoicing that I had enough time to ponder on some pretty big things and find Heaven in the process.

I want rejoicing. :-)

How far ahead?

I am training to run a 5k.

The program I am using to train has me walk a little, run a little, walk a little, run.  Today my runs were 1.5 minutes long, with 6 alternating runs. That's a half a minute longer than I have been running each time.  A half a minute is a lot more than you think.

While I was running I would do one of two things.  I would either focus on the very tip of the mountain in the horizon directly ahead of me, or I would focus on a point down the road about 12 yards away.  Both would get me where I needed to be.  Both would push me faster and harder.  Both made the run possible and successful.

When I looked to the mountain tops, I was in my head, picturing the hike, the last climb, and the exhilaration of making it so high.  I was focusing on something I love to do.  And somewhere I'd love to be.  I was ahead of the game and it was joyful.

Running takes work, especially with this small stride of mine.  When I felt the exhaustion creeping in, I'd switch my focus, and pick a point straight ahead.  A light pole, a spot on the asphalt, a curve in the road, and then I'd tell myself that I could make it to that point and then we'd see.  I'd run it, and if time hadn't run out yet, I'd pick a new spot, a new short-range focus and run that.  Until the time when my headphones beeped the cue that I could walk for a bit.  And then I'd celebrate what I had just done.  I was diligent and it made me proud.

This morning I woke up with a purpose, I planned for a run, I ate a good breakfast, I rejoiced in something that I had done for my kid that seemed to be exactly what he needed, I laughed, I read scriptures with my family, I prayed, I hugged and kissed goodbyes, I stretched, and then I ran.

And I learned.

Sometimes the lessons are so obvious, they need no clarification.

Oh, happy day!

-Amy

Sometimes it is just the end.

I've been thinking today about endings.

Most things end with the hope of something new.  The loss of an old job with the excitement of a new career.  The sadness of a permanent move with the prospect of meeting new friends and seeing new places.  The end of high school with the thrill of college and independence.

And, some things just end.

Things that we cannot get back.

Mostly people.  People who pass on, and no matter how hard we try to focus on what will be in the next life, we solidly know that our time on earth with them is something we will never get back.  Not ever.

And, when that happens, we realize that we have lost a part of us.  And, that we will never be the same.  Not ever.

And, that's me.  I am not the same.  I see life altered.  My weeks are different.  My holidays are not complete.  My worth is not fed in the same way.  My joy comes from other sources.  My pain has a distinct focus.  My service is diminished.  My moments are lacking.  I am not the same.

And, it is deep.

So deep that when other changes come, they are harder to handle, and hope is more of an effort.

I've tried to go back to who I was before I lost someone so important to me.  It has been a forceful battle and a vengeful endeavor.

But, today I know something that I didn't know yesterday.  Today I know that whoever I was before, I no longer am now.

So.  Who am I?

I will always be the puzzle with its missing piece.

But, that is what makes me so beautiful.  Because every missing piece has a story, and those stories will always be mine.  That missing piece that has taught me patience and tolerance, but mostly compassion. That missing piece means that no one can "put me together" without remembering that which is lost.  It means that what I cannot get back, here on this earth, will always be with me.  It means that that which has made me old and nearly ready to be discarded, has also made me unique.

And, if I am not who I used to be, then that can only mean one thing... that I am new.

How often do we grieve and not recognize that our grief forces us to become new creatures?  I grieved as a girl when there was too much anger and too little understanding.  I grieved as a teen when I knew I had to be stronger than those that were given me to protect me.  I grieved when I realized that you cannot escape hurt.  I grieved when I lost.  I grieved when those around me lost too.  I grieved when I realized that I was still scared.  I grieved when that baby inside of me, so itty bitty, didn't live.  I grieved when I lost that one amazing person who gave me a mother's love.  And I grieved when I recognized that I had absolutely no idea how to grieve.

I have cried often.

But, today... right now?  Well.  Right now I have this idea forming in my head.  The idea that, I. Am. New.

New.

Do you know how many people in the scriptures "become new"?  So many.  Do you know that it is a commandment from God to "become new"?  Well, it is.

New.

I may not be anything else, but today I am new, and that is something to look forward to.

-Amy