Neglected Rainbows

For the last several months I feel like I've had a little black raincloud hovering constantly over me.  I've had one thunderstorm after another in my life until I must say I feel quite waterlogged by the steady downpour.  Have you ever felt that way?  Have you ever felt that there was no relief from the storms of life?  The other day I read a quote from a wise 12-year-old girl named Alyssa Knight, "Count your rainbows, not your thunderstorms." The quote kind of hit me hard.  It made me wonder if I had spent so much time contemplating my thunderstorms lately that now all I could see were the ugly, dark clouds.  It reminded me of a quote by Gordon B. Hinckley,  “Stop seeking out the storms and enjoy more fully the sunlight.” 

In all of my storm wallowing have I forgotten that there is sunlight behind those dark clouds? After all you need both sunshine and storm clouds to make rainbows.  Without both, I could never truly experience the beauty or enormity of that sky filled spectacle. And so today I've decided to "create my own sunshine" so I can count my neglected rainbows.

Here is a short list of my lately forgotten rainbows:

1- It's spring.  Flowers are abundant.  I can visit a garden center for self-therapy whenever I need to.  The blooms accumulating in my yard are evidence of my need for growing things.

2- I have someone to snuggle me when I need a good cry.  Enough said.

3- I have five great kids that are making great choices and becoming great people. I know how unusual this is.

4- Storms are the best times to curl up with a blanket, hot chocolate, and my favorite read.

5- I have several true friends who are great listeners and keep my secrets. :) What an amazing blessing a true friend is.

6- A sister is a gift to the heart, a friend to the spirit, a golden thread to the meaning of life.  ~Isadora James.  God blessed me with three beautiful sisters.

7- Chocolate and sushi, need I say more?

8- Summer is coming with all of its long, warm days, blockbuster movies, and a vacation from my busy schedule.  That extra sleep sounds like sunshine.

9- I can still dream!  My imagination is endless.

10- And most important, I have a Savior who paid the price for me.  We are all engraved in the palms of his hands.

Take time and count your neglected rainbows today. It will make the storms seem so much less ominous.

 “Through all of living have much joy and laughter, life is to be enjoyed, not just endured.” Gordon B. Hinckley.

Valentines from Heaven

After listening to a wonderful, inspirational class this last Thursday given by David A. Christensen, he concluded with the question, "Have you felt the love of God today?"  He asked the question as though it were completely normal to feel the love of God every day. To me the question was profound and left me wondering, "Can I feel the love of God every day in my life? Have I felt it today?"

Certainly there have been many times when I have experienced God's tender mercies, His forgiveness, the sweet assurance that He is there, but I know I had never thought about experiencing that love daily.  

I love the scripture in Romans 8:38-39 where Paul tells us "that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God..."

Why then if His love is always there, do some of us not feel His love daily?  One answer might be that perhaps we fail to recognize His love in the world around us.  I remember sitting in church one Sunday with my youngest daughter, Savannah.  She couldn't have been more than five or six years old at the time, but she noticed that the light above her was shining directly on her.  She piped up and said, "The light is shining on me, that means that I am loved!"  In that moment because of a simple beam of light, she recognized God's love.

C.S. Lewis has said, "Something of God flows into us from the blue of the sky, the taste of honey, the delicious embrace of water whether cold or hot, and even from sleep itself."

I have often felt God's love in the warmth of the sun on my face, in the scent of a sweet flower, in the tenderness of a child cuddled on my lap, in the taste of a sweet, tangy orange, or in the grandeur of the view from a mountain height.  You can feel God's love in all of His creations.  Sometimes we forget to recognize and be thankful for God's sweet, simple gifts of love.

Another reason we might not feel God's love daily is because we forget to check-in. Thanks to the wonderful invention of text messaging, my children are constantly checking in with me, especially when things aren't going the way they might like them to be.  I'm the first to hear when they don't feel good, or they didn't do so well on a test, or that someone didn't treat them so well that day.  Often when they message me, they are just looking for the reassurance that someone is there who cares; who can share in their disappointment and sorrow and give them a few words of comfort and love.

God can do the same for us if we make him a daily part of our lives.  I believe He wants to! We should talk to him countless times a day.  Do we tell Him our troubles and take time to receive His comfort? We know He just loves to listen to us.  Doesn't He ask us to pray always?  Doesn't He ask us to "Learn of me, and listen to my words; walk in the meekness of my Spirit and you shall have peace in me."  Do we take the time to walk with Him in His light each day?  If not, perhaps when we find ourselves feeling miserable, it is because we aren't taking the time to feel His abundant love.

C.S. Lewis tells us, "God cannot give us happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there.  There is no such thing."

If we cannot feel happiness and peace without God, isn't it true, then, that every happiness we feel is a manifestation of God's love for us?  I think that every happiness must be, especially after going through the last few days trying to experience God's love daily.  And I have found by being just a little more focused on His love, that it is all around me like a shower of beautiful "Valentines from Heaven."  

I know that all of you can have this same experience.  Take the time to receive your own "Valentines from Heaven" this Valentine's Week. God is just waiting to bless you with His abundant love!

A Shovel at a Time

One day, some time ago, my teenage daughter came bounding into the house, breathless and with a huge smile,  "Mom," she said, "I heard the best quote today. Do you want to hear it?"  After an amused nod from me at her obvious eagerness, she repeated the words, "By the yard, it's hard, but inch by inch, it's a cinch."  She was even more thrilled to find that I had actually heard the quote before.  I had to chuckle inside at her enthusiasm for a quote that for me had lost its appeal after being repeated so often over the years.  I had to wonder how at the age of 15 she had somehow missed hearing these simple words.  To her this quote was completely amazing and had even sparked in her a new wonder and zest for life.

I've thought about this quote since then. The message given is straightforward, but valuable.  If we try to solve a really big problem all at once, it may seem impossible at times, but if we break it down into little pieces the problem becomes much easier to overcome, bit by bit.  

Photo Courtesy of Oleksandros via Flickr

I am reminded of an experience I had a few years ago.  My husband was just recovering from an unexpected heart attack.  We'd had an especially large amount of snow that year, just like this year.  After several large storms, there was literally a mountain of snow on both sides of the driveway, but there was also a mountain of snow in front of the mailbox due to repeated passes by the snow plows.  We'd received a message from the postal service telling us that we needed to clear the area around the mailbox in order for the mail to be delivered.  I remember looking at that mountain of snow and ice that was almost as tall as me and wondering how in the world was I ever going to be able to move it.  I was tired from taking care of five kids and a husband.  I'd already been shoveling snow for days and was really sore.  The task seemed especially daunting to someone who was definitely not the epitome of upper body strength, but I knew this was my mountain to move.  There was just no one else to move it.  I remember thinking of the Lord's words about faith and moving mountains.  His words encouraged me because I knew then like I know now that we don't have to have the faith to move mountains all at once, we only need to have the faith to move mountains a shovel at a time. Eventually after many shovelfuls, some large and some wimpy, I was able to shovel my mountain down to nothing. 

All of us have challenges in life, some as large as mountains, but they all can be overcome a shovel or an inch at a time.  Whatever the challenge may be, whether it be weight-loss, debt, addiction, or depression, we just need to have the faith to take one shovel and then another until our "mountain" is removed.  If the shovel seems too heavy, we can break down our challenges into even smaller bits if we need to. 

A wise man, Garth Toone, once said, "I have learned that success is often measured in millimeters... Rather than expecting miracles overnight, I have learned to repeat the words, 'Have I done any good in the world today?' and if so, count that as success."

Sometimes our progress does come in millimeters, but even if we are working in millimeters we are moving in the right direction and we are bringing good to the world.  Louisa May Alcott has said, "Far away there in the sunshine are my highest aspirations.  I may not reach them, but I can look up and see their beauty, believe in them, and try to follow where they lead."  

Let us set our sights on our own aspirations!  Let us follow where they lead, bit by bit.  We can do it!  Someday our "mountains" will be removed with a little faith, a shovel at a time. 

The Magic of Believing

"It is the personal thoughtfulness, the warm human awareness, the reaching out of the self to one’s fellow man that makes giving worthy of the Christmas spirit.”
~ Isabel Currier.

In the spring of 2006, my husband and I took four of our children to Hogle Zoo in Salt Lake City.  Just as we entered the zoo, my youngest daughter who was four at the time shouted excitedly, "It's Santa Claus!"  We turned around and sure enough there HE was entering the zoo right behind us.  At least it was someone who looked exactly like Santa was supposed to look, minus the traditional red suit.  He definitely was a jolly round soul with a beautiful white beard.  My little four-year-old ran to him crying, "Santa!"  Embarrassed, I went to collect my excited little girl from this poor Santa-looking man, but that's when something amazing happened.  The man, without missing a beat, stepped right into the role of being Santa.  In fact, in no time at all, he even had me believing he was Santa.  He accepted the firm hug around the legs from my exuberant daughter, asked her if she was being good, and then asked the same of each of my other awestruck children.  He then invited us to come and see him and his reindeer the following December.  I can't remember the place now, but he kept his reindeer nearby in the city of Sandy.  After admonishing my children to be good, Santa wished us all a cheery morning and then excused himself to go "help the animals at the zoo."   My nine-year-old who was almost past the "believing" stage at this point in her life turned to her younger siblings and told them in a wise voice, "That's what Santa does when it's not Christmastime, he helps the animals at the zoo."  It was a magical Christmas moment that I will always remember even though it was a warm day and nearly summertime.

 

Norman Vincent Peale once said, "Christmas waves a magic wand over this world, and behold, everything is softer and more beautiful.”

This wonderful Santa, "warm with human awareness," made the zoo more beautiful that spring day.  He brought with him the magic of believing.  One of my favorite movies this time of year is Miracle on 43rd Street.   I love the response by the editor of the New York Sun written to Virginia O'Hanlan and to all of us:

Yes Virginia, there is a Santa Claus

By Francis Pharcellus Church, Editor of the New York Sun,
in response to a letter by Virginia O’Hanlan

“We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the
communication below, expressing at the same time
our great gratification that its faithful author is
numbered among the friends of The Sun:

Dear Editor,
I am eight years old. Some of my little friends say there is no Santa Claus. Papa says, “If you see it in the Sun, it’s so.” Please tell me the truth, is there a Santa Claus?
Virginia O’Hanlon

Virginia, your little friends are wrong. They have been affected by the skepticism of a skeptical age. They do not believe except they see. They think that nothing can be which is not comprehensible by their little minds. All minds, Virginia, whether they be men’s or children’s, are little. In this great universe of ours, man is a mere insect, an ant, in his intellect as compared with the boundless world about him, as measured by the intelligence capable of grasping the whole of truth and knowledge.

Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus. He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, and you know that they abound and give to your life its highest beauty and joy. Alas! how dreary would be the world if there were no Santa Claus! It would be as dreary as if there were no Virginias. There would be no childlike faith then, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence. We should have no enjoyment, except in sense and sight. The external light with which childhood fills the world would be extinguished.

Not believe in Santa Claus! You might as well not believe in fairies. You might get your papa to hire men to watch in all the chimneys on Christmas eve to catch Santa Claus, but even if you did not see Santa Claus coming down, what would that prove? Nobody sees Santa Claus, but that is no sign that there is no Santa Claus. The most real things in the world are those that neither children nor men can see. Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn? Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there. Nobody can conceive or imagine all the wonders there are unseen and unseeable in the world.

You tear apart the baby’s rattle and see what makes the noise inside, but there is a veil covering the unseen world which not the strongest man, nor even the united strength of all the strongest men that ever lived could tear apart. Only faith, poetry, love, romance, can push aside that curtain and view and picture the supernal beauty and glory beyond. Is it all real? Ah, Virginia, in all this world there is nothing else real and abiding.

No Santa Claus! Thank God! he lives and lives forever. A thousand years from now, Virginia, nay 10 times 10,000 years from now, he will continue to make glad the heart of childhood.”

Don't you just love that!  I love the magic of believing!  One of my favorite Christmas stories about the magic of believing is the following by Kitty L. Mickelson entitled, From Santa With Love:

          At Christmas no request is too large or small, no person is too young or old to hope their dreams will come true.

          I remember back when I was nine years old standing in the line to see Santa.  If I wasn’t the eldest child in line, I was certainly the tallest.  My friends didn’t believe in Santa anymore, but that didn’t bother me.  I believed.

          When it was my turn, I not only told Santa what I wanted for Christmas, I assured him how much I believed.  He reached into his sack, handed me a candy cane, and sent me on my way.

          “That was quick,” said my dad, who was waiting for me.  “Did you tell Santa what you wanted for Christmas?”

          “This year I only want one thing,” I replied, spreading my arms wide.  “My own spaceship.”

          My father’s face went blank.  I guess he had expected me to ask for one of the special dolls that were popular then in the early 1950′s.  But I had been hooked on Space Patrol and Captain Jet since we got our first television set and thought nothing could be more exciting than driving through the universe.

          However, during Christmas vacation, Clyde, our town bully, made me his special target.  “Santa Claus,” he derided me.  “I suppose you’ve seen a reindeer fly, too?”

          “No,” I said defensively.  “Some things I just know.”

          “Like getting a spaceship for Christmas?” Clyde hooted.  “You must have rocks in your head!”

          I didn’t answer.  Clyde was three years older than I was and he always had the last word.

          On my way back to our neat house with the fenced-in yard, tears burned my cheeks.  For the first time I had doubts.  When I got home I found Father sitting in the living-room recliner.  “Why the long face?” he asked.

          “The kids say I’m crazy because I asked Santa for a spaceship,” I sniffed.  “Do you think it’s crazy?”

          The Christmas tree lights reflected in his glasses.  “The only thing that matters is what you think.”

          I sighed.  “It does seem silly, I guess.  I don’t even know how Santa would get it here, do you?”

          “Not offhand,” said Father, smiling.  “I believe anything is possible, though.”

That Christmas morning I woke up early still hoping that somehow my dreams of a spaceship could come true.  I ran downstairs to find that Santa had been there.  Our stockings on the hearth were filled to overflowing, and the milk and cookies I’d left out the night before were gone–but there was no sign of a spaceship.  I was disappointed but not really surprised.  Asking for a spaceship was dumb.  Clyde was right.

          Christmas music flowed from the radio and the tree lights burned brightly against the pine branches.  While Mother poured cocoa into our cups and Father distributed the presents, I quietly rummaged through my stocking.  Among the small items, I found a note.  It directed me to look in the front yard.  I ran to the door and threw it open.  A group of kids with awestruck faces were huddled in our driveway, their Christmas presents forgotten.  I ran outside and pushed through the circle, hardly able to believe my eyes.  There stood a five-foot long spaceship, built of plywood, with four wheels and a padded seat that faced a panel of instruments just like the ones in a real cockpit.  Though only pedal power could make it move, there were enough switches and dials on the control panel to keep any child happy.  Everyone was pleading for a chance to ride my spaceship–even Clyde.

          Our imagination took us to many far galaxies that day.  In between those trips I saw my father’s face, watching from the window.  I knew the spacecraft had not come from Santa.  My father created it with a hammer and nails and, most of all, love.

          Years have passed since then, but the memory of the spaceship is still alive at Christmas time.  My father had not only given me my heart’s desire that year, he helped me to discover what he already knew–that Santa Claus is the magic of believing.

I am thankful all these years later to my Hogle Zoo Santa and to all who continue to invite the magic of believing.  Andy Rooney said once,  "One of the most glorious messes in the world is the mess created in the living room on Christmas day. Don’t clean it up too quickly.” I believe that!  Children grow up so fast!  I hope we can all keep the magic alive!

"Christmas–that magic blanket that wraps itself about us, that something so intangible that it is like a fragrance. It may weave a spell of nostalgia. Christmas may be a day of feasting, or of prayer, but always it will be a day of remembrance–a day in which we think of everything we have ever loved.”
~ Augusta E. Rundell