frazzled & frumpy

Last week was my birthday. It wasn't a "big" one that ended in a zero. All the same, it felt big. Maybe because the one ending in zero is next year. And that zero will have a 5 in front of it. Yes, it's true. I turned 49. And honestly, I'm wondering how the hell it happened. No, I'm not kidding, not being glib. I really don't understand how I'm suddenly an 'older' person. OK, maybe it wasn't so sudden. I've been 'older' for a few years now. But, this year, I feel it. I could blame it on college. I walk around campus in the ant-like crowds and can't miss the age differences. I'm fully aware of the smooth skin and tight everything on those kids. They're overly stylish even in their I-don't-care fashion. They talk about dating and roomates and who just got home from what mission. I walk among them as invisible as a tree--something to maneuver around. But it's more than my new-found student-status. It...

"There are two lasting bequests we can give our children. One is roots, the other is wings."  -Hodding Carter Jr. May 24, 1963 They are no longer young. Their steps are slower. Dark hair has lightened to gray. The years have carved wrinkles into their fresh faces. This roller-coaster we call life has taken them on a very long, sometimes thrilling, sometimes terrifying, ride. And, through it all, they have clung to each other and their faith--and they have come off victors. There are 525,949 minutes in a year. More than half a million moments. Moments of happiness, sadness, joy and heartache. Times that by 50- more than 26 million. How do you fill that many pieces of time? In my parent's case, you fill them with love. The years have brought them seven children, 22 grandchildren, one great-grandchild.  There have been countless moves, friends come and gone, the loss of parents, cancer, surgeries, tests, trials, and tears, so very many tears. I have learned en...

There's been a buzz going around the internet this last week.  A little misquito flitting from blog to blog to facebook to news site.  It all started with this blog post by Josh Weed , where he admits to being Mormon, married and gay.  I loved the posts written by Tara and Mike and loved being part of their discussions. (They are brilliant, thoughtful and married to each other. Talk about a power couple.)  This has caused a lot of thought on my part.  I started a couple different posts, and couldn't quite decide what I wanted to say about this.  And, then I decided to write about what I know for sure.   The young women in our church have a theme.  This is repeated every Sunday as they gather for class.  I'm way too old to have had this theme when I was a teen, but because I worked with the young women for almost three years, I memorized it.  I can still recite it. The beginning line says, We are daughters of our Father in Heave...

"He loves us because He is filled with an infinite measure of holy, pure indescribable love.  We are important to God not because of our resume but because we are His children.  He loves every one of us, even those who are flawed, rejected, awkward, sorrowful or broken.  God's love is so great that He loves even the proud, the selfish, the arrogant, and the wicked." -Dieter F. Uchtdorf I know that I am lucky. I was raised in a home where my  parents were married. (Still are. 49 years in May.)  I grew up with two loving parents who cared for me.  They worked hard and we were poor.  But, our home was filled to overflowing with love. Because of this, it's easy for me to believe in a loving Heavenly Father.  While I believe that He is all-knowing and all-powerful, I also believe He is caring.  That He wants me to be happy.  This belief brings me great comfort and hope.  I recently read a post about prayer .  The author was ask...

I wonder, on days like today, how the Savior would want us to celebrate.  I'm sure that the increase in church attendance is pleasing. All the chocolate? I don't think he minds.  But, I have a feeling He'd like us to be doing what He would if He were here.  That isn't always easy. A few days ago, I got a call. A friend told me that a girl, Rhonda, was staying at her home. (Rhonda is a friend of my son.)  She told me that Rhonda couldn't stay any longer, but was a bit reluctant to leave.  She couldn't get her out.  I said I would help. I'd had a bit of a confrontation with Rhonda recently and had no problem telling her to go. Though she had been friends with my son, I had sort of 'written her off' because of some bad behavior.  As I drove to her home, though, something strange happened. My frustration and anger at Rhonda flew out my open window. See, here's what happened.  Heavenly Father, knowing my temper, put images in my mind.  He made...

My two teenage boys tower over me. It sometimes seems strange to think of them as little, but then, it doesn't feel like that long ago. I remember well when they were in 1st grade and kindergarten. They walked to the bus each morning. I could see them as they went down our block, across a street and right up until they got to my friend, Kim's house. There, they would get their two friends and the four of them would go on to the bus stop. I would stand on my front step while they walked each morning. One day, Richie got down our street and looked back at me. "Mom, will you watch me?" I nodded and waved. Confident in the knowledge that I was watching, he went on. I've often thought of that day and how it parallels my life. I know that many times, I have looked heavenward and asked, 'Are you watching me?' We have an inherent need to know that we're being watched over, that someone cares. I'm grateful for the many instances in my life that have assured...