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.

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. 

Stuck in a Rut?

Have you ever had a rut problem?  Well, lately I've been having one.  And it is about time I stopped being stuck in it.  Living in Utah in January during an inversion is pretty much like living in dry ice smoke.  It's bitter cold, hard to breathe, and lacking in sunshine. It's rather depressing actually.  I think it's part of my rut problem, but definitely not all of it.  I'm feeling sluggish after the holidays, crazy in the head, and a bit downhearted.  In fact, I didn't realize just how bad I was stuck in my preoccupied rut until this last Sunday when I discovered that I'd entirely forgotten something very necessary.  I'm embarrassed to say that I became so scatterbrained getting my family ready for church that I actually forgot to wear a bra.  And to make matters worse, for 6 full hours I had no clue that I was even without one.

Photo Courtesy of Christopher Sessums via Flickr

 

Now to some of you this might not seem like a very big deal, but I've never gone outside without a brassiere since I was in fifth grade. In fact, I absolutely shouldn't. I can't even explain to my own brain how it even could have happened unless I tell myself that DownEast must put a lot of spandex in their t-shirts.  Other than that, I think I've completely lost it and gone out of my mind.  I actually don't remember having such a tough time overcoming feeling so out of it not since I was nine years old.

The favorite activity for all of my friends when I was a kid was riding bikes.  Packs of kids would race through the neighborhood having a great old time.  But I couldn't participate in this joyous freedom because, much to my embarrassment, I didn't know how to ride a bike.  And by the age of nine this had become a huge, humiliating problem.  It meant that I got left out and left behind.  Well, one day I decided that I'd had enough.  I decided that I was tired of being left out and left behind.  I vowed I would teach myself to ride a bike no matter what the cost. And so I wheeled my hand-me-down purple bike out of the garage and down our steep driveway. 

I lived on a street that had deep gutters and I found that if I put my bike in the gutter, I could push along with my feet on each side of the gutter all the way around the block back to my house.  That is exactly what I did for several days until I found my balance.  After I learned to balance, I learned to put one foot on the pedal and push.  I wouldn't even pedal all the way around at first.  I would just push hard on the pedal and coast as far as I could.  It was not without misfortune, however.  There was one place on the block where the gutter was especially filled with silt and mud.  I got stuck there often and actually fell in once, covering my legs with the awful mucky stuff.  It was hard to keep going after that, but I wanted to learn so badly.  I wanted to be free and with my friends and out of that restrictive rut. 

Eventually I learned to pedal all the way around with both feet and I found that if I just kept pedaling, it was easier to keep going all the way around the block.  I still fell sometimes, and I fell hard.  Riding around in a gutter wasn't the safest place to ride a bike.  There was a lot of stuff in that gutter that got in the way.  Steering helped eventually.  Once I learned to put the pedaling and steering together, I could avoid most of the sand, the rocks, and other junk.  Not much time passed before I realized I was ready to leave the gutter.  One day I pedaled super hard right out of the rut and I found that I was completely free with the wind in my hair and a thrill in my heart. 

While I was contemplating this morning on freeing myself from this annoying and depressing January rut, I realized that I'd taught myself years ago some important truths when I learned how to ride a bike:

1. First, decide that you've had enough and you are going to get out of your rut, no matter what!  Focus your energy on gaining freedom from whatever is that is keeping you stuck.

2. Find your balance.  Sometimes it take a few trips around the block using the sides of the rut for needed support.  It's impossible to get your balance with just one try.  Make little changes.  If something isn't working, try something new.  Whatever you do, do something that will bring a lasting change to get you out of your hum drums.

3. Put your foot on one pedal and coast.  Go easy on yourself.  Things are not going to get better all at once.  It takes work and it takes time.  So if there are bumps and messes along the way, don't get discouraged.  It will all turn out alright eventually with just a little practice.

4. Don't stop pedaling.  Keep going.  Someday you'll look back on this and be glad that you didn't give up.  In the words of Martin Luther King, "If you can't fly then run, if you can't run then walk, if you can't walk then crawl, but whatever you do, you have to keep moving forward."

  

5. Get a grip and steer.  There will always be obstacles to leaving your rut.  Do your best to steer clear of them.  If you keep pedaling and keep steering, eventually you'll find your way out, no matter how deep.

6. Pedal hard when you're ready.  There are much better roads ahead!  As soon as you leave your rut there will be wind in your hair and a thrill in your heart and the knowledge that you can overcome anything!

"Gold, Circumstance, and Mud"

There is a story written by Rex Knowles entitled "Gifts of the Wise Children; or Gold, Circumstance, and Mud" that rings true for me this time of the year especially after last week's tragedy: 

It was the week before Christmas, I was baby-sitting with our four older children while my wife took the baby for his check-up. (Baby-sitting to me means reading the paper while the kids mess up the house.)
 
Only that day I wasn't reading. I was fuming. On every page of the paper, as I flicked angrily through them, gifts glittered and reindeer pranced, and I was told that there were only six more days in which to rush out and buy what I couldn't afford and nobody needed. What, I asked myself indignantly, did the glitter and the rush have to do with the birth of Christ?
 
There was a knock on the door of the study where I had barricaded myself. Then Nancy's voice, "Daddy, we have a play to put on. Do you want to see it?"
 
I didn't. But I had fatherly responsibilities so I followed her into the living room. Right away I knew it was a Christmas play for at the foot of the piano stool was a lighted flashlight wrapped in swaddling clothes lying in a shoe box.
 
Rex (age 6) came in wearing my bathrobe and carrying a mop handle. He sat on the stool, looked at the flashlight. Nancy (10) draped a sheet over her head, stood behind Rex and began, "I'm Mary and this boy is Joseph. Usually in this play Joseph stands up and Mary sits down. But Mary sitting down is taller than Joseph standing up so we thought it looked better this way."
 
Enter Trudy (4) at a full run. She never has learned to walk. There were pillowcases over her arms. She spread them wide and said only, "I'm an angel."
 
Then came Anne (8). I knew right away she represented a wise man. In the first place she moved like she was riding a camel (she had on her mother's high heels). And she was bedecked with all the jewelry available. On a pillow she carried three items, undoubtedly gold, frankincense, and myrrh.
She undulated across the room, bowed to the flashlight, to Mary, to Joseph, to the angel, and to me and then announced, "I'm all three wise men. I bring precious gifts: gold, circumstance, and mud."
 
That was all. The play was over. I didn't laugh. I prayed. How near the truth Anne was! We come at Christmas burdened down with gold—with the showy gift and the tinsely tree. Under the circumstances we can do no other, circumstances of our time and place and custom. And it seems a bit like mud when we think of it. 

But I looked at the shining faces of my children, as their audience of one applauded them, and remembered that a Child showed us how these things can be transformed. I remembered that this Child came into a material world and in so doing eternally blessed the material. He accepted the circumstances, imperfect and frustrating, into which He was born, and thereby infused them with the divine. And as for mud—to you and me it may be something to sweep off the rug, but to all children it is something to build with.
 
Children see so surely through the tinsel and the habit and the earthly, to the love which, in them all, strains for expression. [The Guideposts Christmas Treasury (Carmel, NY: Guideposts Associates, 1972), pp. 197–98]

Sometimes I wonder how to deal with all of the "gold, circumstance, and mud" in life, especially after the loss of so many beautiful innocent lives this week. I've struggled to write about it.  Every time I see a picture of the angelic face of Emilie Parker or any of the children lost, I have to choke back tears.  The only thought that gives me comfort is that of the arms of the Savior encircling these 20 sweet children as they returned home to Him, bearing their own sweet loving gifts.  Each of these special children seemed particularly amazing, and the love and light that they showed us with each of their lives tells us just how wonderful they were.  

Jack Pinto's family released a statement saying, Jack was an "inspiration to all those who knew him."

"He had a wide smile that would simply light up the room and while we are all uncertain as to how we will ever cope without him, we choose to remember and celebrate his life. Not dwelling on the loss but instead on the gift that we were given and will forever cherish in our hearts forever."

Olivia Engel's family tells us, "Olivia was smart, bubbly, and unbelievably entertaining. Her physical loss will be felt every day by those who loved her most, but her sparkly spirit will live on."

Alissa Parker, Emilie's mother, told Katie Couric she doesn't know how to answer people anymore when they ask how she is doing. "I feel like the only way to move forward," she said, "is to think about these beautiful children and their lives and be so thankful that we had them."

I am thankful for the Sandy Hook victims and survivors.  I am thankful for their enduring examples in all the "circumstance and mud."  I am thankful for the "gift" of each of their lives. 

Many years ago our Heavenly Father sent the most pure and innocent of us all to be slain for the sins of the world; a perfect being who never had an impure thought or action, ever.  How grateful I am for God's tremendous gift of the Savior and the Savior's willingness to overcome the world so that He could welcome these precious babies home in His loving arms after such a tragedy.

Life is a perfect gift to all of us, one that we should cherish.  I hope that my life and all our lives will be more than "gold, circumstance, and mud."  In the tradition of the wise men, I hope that we can all bring goodly gifts to the Savior this Christmas season by reaching out to those around us, letting go of ill will, becoming more like Him.  Surely there is more that we all can do to show our gratitude for the Lord's ultimate gift and sacrifice.  Surely there is more that we can do to show our deep abiding love for Him.  There is already enough evil in the world.  Let us do what we can to bring the world His light, so that tragedies like the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting never happen again.