"When you're looking for life to give you nickels, but you're only receiving buttons, put them in your piggy bank anyway. At least you'll get a cool button collection!"
Friday, January 29, 2016
Wise words
Lately when I am sleeping, I fancy myself with the wisdom of Solomon. This could be because I am reading the book of Proverbs right now. Subconsciously I find myself creating these deep philosophical adages, but when I wake up and recall them they don't make as much sense as I originally thought. Here is one of the things I came up with in my sleep last night:
Monday, January 11, 2016
Fighting My Dragon
I run in terror; I know it can destroy me. It pursues me easily. I can't outdistance it. It is more clever than me. I try to deceive myself: it doesn't really exist. In response it rears its beautiful head, opens its powerful maw and demands my acknowledgement. I turn its ugly bellow into a song, and decorate the beast, hoping that by doing so it will blend in and disappear. It laughs at my pitiful attempts and simply absorbs all my disguises. No disguise can hide that creature.
Knowing I shall never defeat it I raise my weapons and scream my battle cry. Desperately I rush into a fruitless battle; for as soon as I dissect it and beat it into the ground, it springs up elsewhere. It has the power to melt down and seep into other things! I even discover remnants of it in my weapons themselves!
Failure! Oh, bitter taste! I cannot prevail! I must take a different option: Denial. I tell myself to ignore the beast. But even as I look away and busy myself with other tasks I notice it grow and strengthen. Everything I accomplish gives it more stature and power.
As it grows in strength because of my help, its cries out with a terrible voice: "Look at me! Admire me! Or be jealous and despise me!" I turn away in shame. Others laugh at me or shake their heads in scorn as the giant monstrosity follows me around. Some look upon me with varying degrees of pity or contempt. They hiss to one another, "How can she let that thing trail after her? Does she carry its leash? She certainly cannot control it!" In spite of my resolve to deny its existence I find myself thinking, At least it is an attractive beast in its own right. And it lends me a certain amount of prestige. Again the creature grows.
I have no choice but to acknowledge its presence. It is simply too big to ignore. I remind myself of my potential. I envision that unreachable star.
Strengthened by this noble vision I attack--chipping my enemy down, destroying every part I come in contact with. I ignore my own wounds (some of which are caused by my own reckless persistence), determined to succeed at last or die trying.
I battle on as twilight descends. I look forward to nothing but an exhausting night of battle. I encourage myself by rejoicing in my small victories. But I know I cannot ever exterminate that dragon, for it is a being of my own creation. As fast as I destroy some parts, I unwittingly create others. This is no way to become a conqueror.
Finally I realize what I have missed. I can't do it alone. I am powerless against the creature who defines me. Still wielding my weapons with all my vigor, I send out a seemingly pathetic plea straight from my heart: "Please, help!" As weak and frustrated as that cry began, I watched as some other power that I cannot comprehend took that supplication and fashioned from it a sword.
I hoisted my new defense with more hope than I have ever had. Sending up another entreaty for help, I raised the sword and slashed downward. With one slice, the dragon seemed to collapse upon itself. Lifeless. I warily approached the inert heap. Was it really dead? Had I (with that astonishing help) triumphed at last?
But something was strange. As I examined the lifeless mound that had been such a challenging rival, I notice it wasn't made of the remains of a living creature. It was hollow and made out of ornaments and cloth. I peered inside the façade and saw something that disturbed me much more than the dragon ever had, for within was a small, desperately thin being with large fear-filled eyes. In spite of its small frame, the creature emitted a powerful aura of different types of fear. As I looked into those eyes I recognized the creature. This was the very same creature I had been endeavoring to hide for all those years. I remembered why I had wanted to hide it when the pathetic creature reached out its bony hand and took mine. Instantly I was filled with overwhelming emotions: anxiety, horror, shame, panic and dread. I tried to take my hand back, but the creature would not release it. It had a ridiculously tight grip, and I could not shake my hand free or pry my fingers loose.
In desperation I screamed at the creature to free me! And in response I was hit with such a wave of panic that I fell to my knees. I was now staring at the emaciated being eye to eye. As I fought my feelings of panic, I dragged the creature back to the remnants of the dragon. If I could force it back into the dragon costume, I could handle it much better. But as I tried to put the dragon's head on, the mask feel straight through the creature as if it were merely a wraith or a shadow. I tried again to loosen my hand, with no success.
I could no longer cover it with a guise of beauty. There was nothing I could do to rid myself of it. I recalled the lesson I had learned previously and I sent out another sincere plea. As I did so, I realized that my fear was tempered a bit with another feeling. I gazed down at the little wretched creature and saw in its huge watery eyes my own plea for help. I reached down slowly and picked the creature up, surprised that my hands didn't go right through it as the mask had. I cradled the creature, still aware of my on-edge nerves.
I carry that creature with me always. At times it demands more from me than I can deny, and I give in to it, and we both quiver in fear for a few days. Other times I let it throw its tantrum and I continue on with my life in a slow and careful way. But my favorite times are when its ugly thin body transforms into something beautiful--not because I have found another mask for it, but because I have found a way to let it work for me to help me become better. These times always happen with that incomprehensible help, as I am much more prone to become as sniveling and pathetic as that creature without that help.
Moroni 8:16 : "...Behold, I speak with boldness, having authority from God; and I fear not what man can do; for perfect love casteth out all fear."
Knowing I shall never defeat it I raise my weapons and scream my battle cry. Desperately I rush into a fruitless battle; for as soon as I dissect it and beat it into the ground, it springs up elsewhere. It has the power to melt down and seep into other things! I even discover remnants of it in my weapons themselves!
Failure! Oh, bitter taste! I cannot prevail! I must take a different option: Denial. I tell myself to ignore the beast. But even as I look away and busy myself with other tasks I notice it grow and strengthen. Everything I accomplish gives it more stature and power.
As it grows in strength because of my help, its cries out with a terrible voice: "Look at me! Admire me! Or be jealous and despise me!" I turn away in shame. Others laugh at me or shake their heads in scorn as the giant monstrosity follows me around. Some look upon me with varying degrees of pity or contempt. They hiss to one another, "How can she let that thing trail after her? Does she carry its leash? She certainly cannot control it!" In spite of my resolve to deny its existence I find myself thinking, At least it is an attractive beast in its own right. And it lends me a certain amount of prestige. Again the creature grows.
I have no choice but to acknowledge its presence. It is simply too big to ignore. I remind myself of my potential. I envision that unreachable star.
Strengthened by this noble vision I attack--chipping my enemy down, destroying every part I come in contact with. I ignore my own wounds (some of which are caused by my own reckless persistence), determined to succeed at last or die trying.
I battle on as twilight descends. I look forward to nothing but an exhausting night of battle. I encourage myself by rejoicing in my small victories. But I know I cannot ever exterminate that dragon, for it is a being of my own creation. As fast as I destroy some parts, I unwittingly create others. This is no way to become a conqueror.
Finally I realize what I have missed. I can't do it alone. I am powerless against the creature who defines me. Still wielding my weapons with all my vigor, I send out a seemingly pathetic plea straight from my heart: "Please, help!" As weak and frustrated as that cry began, I watched as some other power that I cannot comprehend took that supplication and fashioned from it a sword.
I hoisted my new defense with more hope than I have ever had. Sending up another entreaty for help, I raised the sword and slashed downward. With one slice, the dragon seemed to collapse upon itself. Lifeless. I warily approached the inert heap. Was it really dead? Had I (with that astonishing help) triumphed at last?
But something was strange. As I examined the lifeless mound that had been such a challenging rival, I notice it wasn't made of the remains of a living creature. It was hollow and made out of ornaments and cloth. I peered inside the façade and saw something that disturbed me much more than the dragon ever had, for within was a small, desperately thin being with large fear-filled eyes. In spite of its small frame, the creature emitted a powerful aura of different types of fear. As I looked into those eyes I recognized the creature. This was the very same creature I had been endeavoring to hide for all those years. I remembered why I had wanted to hide it when the pathetic creature reached out its bony hand and took mine. Instantly I was filled with overwhelming emotions: anxiety, horror, shame, panic and dread. I tried to take my hand back, but the creature would not release it. It had a ridiculously tight grip, and I could not shake my hand free or pry my fingers loose.
In desperation I screamed at the creature to free me! And in response I was hit with such a wave of panic that I fell to my knees. I was now staring at the emaciated being eye to eye. As I fought my feelings of panic, I dragged the creature back to the remnants of the dragon. If I could force it back into the dragon costume, I could handle it much better. But as I tried to put the dragon's head on, the mask feel straight through the creature as if it were merely a wraith or a shadow. I tried again to loosen my hand, with no success.
I could no longer cover it with a guise of beauty. There was nothing I could do to rid myself of it. I recalled the lesson I had learned previously and I sent out another sincere plea. As I did so, I realized that my fear was tempered a bit with another feeling. I gazed down at the little wretched creature and saw in its huge watery eyes my own plea for help. I reached down slowly and picked the creature up, surprised that my hands didn't go right through it as the mask had. I cradled the creature, still aware of my on-edge nerves.
I carry that creature with me always. At times it demands more from me than I can deny, and I give in to it, and we both quiver in fear for a few days. Other times I let it throw its tantrum and I continue on with my life in a slow and careful way. But my favorite times are when its ugly thin body transforms into something beautiful--not because I have found another mask for it, but because I have found a way to let it work for me to help me become better. These times always happen with that incomprehensible help, as I am much more prone to become as sniveling and pathetic as that creature without that help.
Moroni 8:16 : "...Behold, I speak with boldness, having authority from God; and I fear not what man can do; for perfect love casteth out all fear."
Sunday, January 10, 2016
My little 8 Year Old
Evelyn has a strong sense of justice. She loves rules and structure and sometimes even punishments. (I have no idea how she pulls that one off.) One time she read a political billboard that stated, "Stop punishing students!" Evelyn was indignant! "Stop punishing students?!?!" she exclaimed, "why, that is ridiculous! If you don't punish kids, they will never learn! I'm a student, and sometimes I definitely need punishments!!" But Evelyn definitely avoids being in trouble.
Evelyn loves responsibility. And she excels at logistics. Whether we are cleaning the church building or setting up a party, Evelyn loves to be right in the thick of things. She is very patient when she can't help and she has to wait for me or her daddy to complete something.
Evelyn has a surprising sense of humor. She terrified Michael and I one day when she borrowed a realistic looking rubber rat and set it painstakingly in the hall for us to find. We thought a rat had found its way into our house and died. Just as we were about to get a broom, Evelyn cried, "Its just a toy!" and walked right up to the rat and picked it up! We saw the tail flopping about and we just about had heart attacks!
Evelyn has a sweet heart and she likes to make people happy. She also wants people to like her, but she won't do anything to gain that love. She knows that standing for something will eventually make most people like or at least trust you and she wants that. So she knows how to say "no" to people. Evelyn is a leader, not a follower. But she also works to be a listener.
Evelyn is my hero. She teaches me all the time that life is what you make it, and the richest and best moments are with family and friends. She notices when people are lonely and tries to brighten their day. She loves to share her possessions with anyone she's around. She is not afraid to try new things and faces life as an adventure. Sometimes life hands her a disappointment and she lets herself cry for a moment, but then she bounces back with more determination to do better next time and enjoy herself in the meantime. I love you, little angel! Thanks for all the laughs and the proud tears and the teaching moments where I come away having learned more from you.
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