I love Elder Holland

I remember when this talk was given in October, 1999. At the time, I was pregnant with Joe and so, so, so sick--losing weight, throwing up constantly and in terrible pain.

I read the talk again and again in the next several months as I was on over three months of bed-rest and in excrutiating pain every time I'd have to get up to use the bathroom. It was inspiring and helpful and given just for me.

A few months after Joe was born, I was grocery shopping at Fred Meyer in Bountiful, when I saw Elder and Sister Holland in the produce section. Hesitantly, I approached him and with tears in my eyes, told him how his talk had impacted me and how important it had been during that hard time. He admired my beautiful baby and curly-haired little girl, gave me a hug, and told me that Heavenly Father loved me and knew good things were just around the corner.

How inspired are the brethren. I love conference and I love Elder Holland and this inspired message.

Good Books

Here are four books I've read over the past few months and would recommend.

A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini - Requires a bit of a strong stomach as you read about the difficult lives of a couple of Afghan women. The story is heart-breaking, disturbing, inspiring and hopeful.

Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet by Jamie Ford - This story is set in the 1940s and the 1980s in Seattle. This was a sweet story that told of the lives of many Japanese Americans that were placed in Interment camps. I really enjoyed this story.

Half Broke Horses by Jeannette Walls - I was moved and disturbed by Jeannette Walls first book, a memoir called The Glass Castle. While it was incredibly well-written, it broke my heart and her father had an uncomfortably foul mouth. This, however, had much less cursing and the writing was equally good. This told the story of the author's grandmother, a woman we meet briefly in The Glass Castle. She was a colorful character with a fascinating life. I thoroughly enjoyed this book.

Driven by Larry H. Miller - I couldn't put this book down. It was fascinating, entertaining and inspiring. Full of interesting stories that I remember living through but had no idea what was going on behind the scenes. Larry Miller was an imperfect man who wanted to do as much good with what he'd been blessed as he could. I read this book in two days and was sad to see it end. It made me wish I'd have known him.

Lessons From Mom

I’ve always known I have an amazing mom, but as the years have passed, I shake my head in wonder at the life my mom has lived. Mom’s life hasn’t always been easy. It’s been filled with sacrifices, challenges and trials, but not being afraid of hard things is just one of the lessons I’ve learned (and continue to learn) from Mom. Disclaimer: I do not claim to have mastered the many lessons mom has taught, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t teach them. In fact, while I was lucky enough to have a mom who read to us, taught family night lessons and taught homemaking skills, most of what she taught was from her example. Here are a few of the lessons Mom taught.

To write letters – Never have I known anyone who was better at corresponding that Mom is. Probably her biggest obsession and personal indulgence is paper products. Mom is a sucker for pretty cards. Then she uses those cards to say thank you, hope you’re feeling better, I miss you, I’m proud of you, and more. Personal, hand-written correspondence is almost a lost art, but Mom has done her part to keep it alive.

To love babies -- She had eleven of her own and would willingly have had more. But even that many babies doesn’t stop mom from loving every grandchild, every niece and nephew and really about any baby she sees.

That we are our children’s defender – Mom taught me that Mom’s MUST defend their children—from injustice, from bullying, from mean teachers, from the world. I’ll never forget her following a bully (who was bigger than her) home from the school bus and defending her children. She was fearless.

That we are our children’s cheerleader – With eleven kids, I can’t even imagine how exhausting it must have been to listen to every story from school, attend every concert, sporting event, art night, dance program, and more. But she did and made us feel like she loved it.

To fulfill church assignments – Mom is more than willing to be in the background. She doesn’t like a lot of attention and she’s not an exhibitionist. Her favorite callings have been behind the scenes—a small primary class or compassionate service leader. But when asked, she’s willingly, if nervously, taken on the roll of leader. She’s always done what she’s asked.

To do it ourselves (make the things you can’t afford) – Mom never wanted us to do without, so when graphic tees came into style, she used fabric paints and made graphic tees. When western shirts with snaps came into style, mom learned how to use a snap tool and made the boys snap-up western shirts. When everyone was getting cabbage patch dolls, Mom made us cabbage patch dolls. She was always good at seeing something that we couldn’t afford and making a version of it for us.

Creativity -- Mom taught me to be creative. She sewed most of our clothes. She made dolls. She quilted. She cross-stitched. She fabric painted. She decorated our home with the things she made.
To accept the Lord’s will – Mom had two miscarriages and lost a son to death in a car accident. Even though there were really hard things, Mom taught that we need to accept the Lord’s will. When I was eighteen, she had her last miscarriage. Dad was out of town so she called me at work and asked if I could come home and take her to the doctor. On the way home, brokenhearted, she said, “It must have been the Lord’s will.” No bitterness. Just acceptance. I’ll never forget that.

To work hard – Mom fed a huge family on a budget by baking her own bread, making butter and cheese from our own cows (this included straining milk and washing huge pieces of equipment), and more. She moved bedrooms around more than anyone I’ve ever seen, even though it was a huge job. She canned and gardened and did laundry. The work never ended and she did it willingly and I don’t remember her complaining.

Patience – We kids fought. We complained about helping. Some of us were not great students. Through it all, Mom was patient. When I think about how long it would take me to do a sink full of dishes, I don’t know how mom stood it.

To love good books – Mom loved to read and introduced me to Jane Austen and Bess Streeter Aldrich, two of my favorite authors to this day. In spite of how busy she was, she read Where the Red Fern Grows and all the Laura Ingalls Wilder books to us at night before we’d go to bed.

That it’s okay to stay home from school once in awhile – I never wanted to go to school. Most days she made me go. I was rarely allowed to stay home unless I could demonstrate a fever (which I learned to do by putting a thermometer under hot water or on a light bulb). I now know she wasn’t fooled all the time. Surely, when she saw a fever of over 105 and didn’t instantly run me to the emergency room, she had to know I was just needing a day off—a day to stay home and help or watch gameshows. Because of that, I occasionally let my kids have a day off. It’s good for all of us!It is impossible for me to ever thank Mom enough for the lessons she taught me, the incredible example she has been and is, and the wonderful friend that she is. I love you, Mom. Happy Mothers Day.

Thoughts on Marriage

Last week we heard some heartbreaking news. Some friends of ours are divorcing after about twenty years of marriage and four children. It weighed on my mind all week as I thought of the devastation and heartbreak of each member of that family.

At Stake Conference Saturday night, our Stake President shared a portion of an Ensign article by H. Burton Howard. It was excellent and I want to share it here. If you're married, please read it and apply it to your marriage. If you aren't married, please read it and store it for the future.

"We started as poor college students, but her (his wife) vision for our marriage was exemplified by a set of silverware. As is common today, when we married she registered with a local department store. Instead of listing all the pots and pans and appliances we needed and hoped to receive, she chose another course. She asked for silverware. She chose a pattern and the number of place settings and listed knives, forks, and spoons on the wedding registry and nothing else. No towels, no toasters, no television—just knives, forks, and spoons.

The wedding came and went. Our friends and our parents’ friends gave gifts. We departed for a brief honeymoon and decided to open the presents when we returned. When we did so, we were shocked. There was not a single knife or fork in the lot. We joked about it and went on with our lives.

Two children came along while we were in law school. We had no money to spare. But when my wife worked as a part-time election judge or when someone gave her a few dollars for her birthday, she would quietly set it aside, and when she had enough she would go to town to buy a fork or a spoon. It took us several years to accumulate enough pieces to use them. When we finally had service for four, we began to invite some of our friends for dinner.

Before they came, we would have a little discussion in the kitchen. Which utensils would we use, the battered and mismatched stainless or the special silverware? In those early days I would often vote for the stainless. It was easier. You could just throw it in the dishwasher after the meal, and it took care of itself. The silver, on the other hand, was a lot of work. My wife had it hidden away under the bed where it could not be found easily by a burglar. She had insisted that I buy a tarnish-free cloth to wrap it in. Each piece was in a separate pocket, and it was no easy task to assemble all the pieces. When the silver was used, it had to be hand washed and dried so that it would not spot, and put back in the pockets so it would not tarnish, and wrapped up and carefully hidden again so it would not get stolen. If any tarnish was discovered, I was sent to buy silver polish, and together we carefully rubbed the stains away.

Over the years we added to the set, and I watched with amazement how she cared for the silver. My wife was never one to get angry easily. However, I remember the day when one of our children somehow got hold of one of the silver forks and wanted to use it to dig up the backyard. That attempt was met with a fiery glare and a warning not to even think about it. Ever!

I noticed that the silverware never went to the many ward dinners she cooked, or never accompanied the many meals she made and sent to others who were sick or needy. It never went on picnics and never went camping. In fact it never went anywhere; and, as time went by, it didn’t even come to the table very often. Some of our friends were weighed in the balance, found wanting, and didn’t even know it. They got the stainless when they came to dinner.

The time came when we were called to go on a mission. I arrived home one day and was told that I had to rent a safe-deposit box for the silver. She didn’t want to take it with us. She didn’t want to leave it behind. And she didn’t want to lose it.

For years I thought she was just a little bit eccentric, and then one day I realized that she had known for a long time something that I was just beginning to understand. If you want something to last forever, you treat it differently. You shield it and protect it. You never abuse it. You don’t expose it to the elements. You don’t make it common or ordinary. If it ever becomes tarnished, you lovingly polish it until it gleams like new. It becomes special because you have made it so, and it grows more beautiful and precious as time goes by."

A Few Photos from the Past Week

This week's quote.
Bruce and Savannah strike a pose on Sunday afternoon.

Veronica doing what she does whenever she doesn't have homework--reading a book.

Joe with his friends, Isaac and Dylan, right after the community haircut. I pulled out the clippers, both boys got permission and we cut a lot of hair.

And I do mean a lot of hair. Most of that came from Isaac. Once again, I stink at taking before pictures.

INSPIRING!

So thankfully, I was referred to a wonderful message by Elder F. Enzio Busche, that he gave at a BYU devotional several years ago. The message gave a series of quotes that he tries to live by--a philosophy of life that can't help but improve his life and give it more meaning. I was REALLY touched by all of them and decided I want to try to make them more a part of my life and my family's lives. So I spent the morning printing off the quotes on nice paper and then framed them. There is one framed on the table where we enter the house and one in the kitchen. Hopefully this will help us all memorize them and get them engrained in our lives.

Each week I'll switch them out for a new one. Hopefully everyone will feel inspired by them and they'll help us focus on eternal things.

Thanks to those of you who brought this amazing talk to my attention!

Easter, General Conference & My Conference Weekend Project

As happens on occasion, General Conference weekend was also Easter. I figured there would be some amazing talks centered on the Savior and the resurrection and I wasn't disappointed. The testimonies were powerful, the music was beautiful and it was a perfect way to commemorate the most important event in the history of the world. I also loved the messages to mothers and parents.

One thing I love about conference weekend is that I can listen to the talks while accomplishing something. Sometimes it is handiwork, sometimes a scrapping project, sometimes it is just coloring with the kids.

This conference, I decided I was going to tackle one of my organizing projects for the year--twenty years worth of family pictures as well as two missions worth of pictures and an album of wedding cake photos. So from two fruit boxes of loose photos, as well as some old, falling-apart photo albums, I started. I spent about eight hours on Saturday and about seven hours on Sunday. This is my finished project. I now have eleven albums, one photo box of loose photos and one photo box of negatives.

"The greatest test in life is to see whether we will hearken to and obey God's commandments in the midst of the storms in life. It is not to endure the storms, but to choose the right while they rage." - Elder Henry B. Eyring

Our Personal President Hinckley Experience

We enjoyed the funeral of President Hinckley today. Many shared their own personal experiences with this wonderful man. I'd like to share ours.

When Bruce was 2 1/2 years old (just before President Hinckley was made President of the church), my Dad worked at the church office building. We had gone in to see him and ended up riding the elevator with then Elder Hinckley.

"What a cute little boy," he said.

"Thank you," we said.

"What is your name? No, don't tell me. I'm pretty good at guessing names. Hmm, is it Steven?"

"No, it's Bruce," we said.

"Well, Bruce is a good name, too."

He was kind and funny. Bruce says he's considered naming a son Steven because of the story. It would be a great story for how you got your name.

We will miss President Hinckley, but look forward to wonderful things from President Monson.

Remembering September 11

On September 11, 2001, I was getting kids ready for school when Mom called and said, "You should turn on the tv. A plane just hit the World Trade Center." We turned it on in time to see the second plane hit, and then watched in horror as the towers crumbled and the events of the day continued. It was such a sucker punch. My heart continues to hurt at the terrible events of that day.
Travis and I were in New York three months before the attacks. If only we'd have known what was going to happen, we'd have sprung the big bucks to take the formal tour. We went back last summer and the gaping hole was very sobering.
This is a picture of the kids at a fountain just outside the fence that surrounds Ground Zero. I hope we never forget the events of that day and that we pray for our leaders to be guided so we never have to feel that vulnerable again.