Mess and Miracles

  I have been quiet on my blog for awhile... because here I am a few years removed from divorce and I still feel bulldozed by how hard things are. In my mind, the level of hard I have had to grapple with over the last several months seems to scream at me that I haven't dealt with the really deep wounds that left me years ago careening down the hill in a runaway trolley frantically looking for a place to jump. See, the last several years I have been working through the steps of "moving on," but mostly, I have just been in survival mode. I didn't realize that one of the consequences of becoming acclimated to single parenthood and finally finding some emotional stability in my life, would mean that I would come to a place where my body would let me know it was time to face the darkest demon from my marriage. And that requires acknowledging the level of injury I suffered from someone who had promised to love me. Even now, it is scary to type these words. It is much easie...

  The part where I thought I could save my husband. Growing up I was often told that marriage was hard...that it took work, but it was work that was well worth it. All around me I had examples of lasting relationships, and it seemed that the only thing I had to learn to succeed at it, was to be all in 100% and then remain committed in sickness and in health, through the good times and the bad til death do us part. Except I am Mormon, so we talk more along the lines of a forever. So early in my marriage when issues started to creep up, I took it upon myself to fix them to prove that I "had what it takes" and could make my marriage not only work, but to thrive. The solutions seemed easy at first. Get into this doctor, see this counselor, find this psychiatrist, read these books! It was bumpy, but doable, and life marched on. We started our family, and our son came along, and with that came a period of unemployment for me who had been up to that point the primary bread winner fo...

  You have been in this place long enough. That is the title. A title that came from a scripture in the Old Testament. At one point, after wandering for 40 years, the Children of Israel were tired. Tired of the walking, tired of the homelessness, tired of the mana, and just tired of not having a place to permanently put down roots. And then God comes to them and says, "ye have compassed this mountain long enough." Because God saw how tired they were, and how they ached for permeance, and knew it was time to move forward and stop circling.  How do I know He knew this? Because as a parent I watched my son struggle, and I knew just as God must have known, when the time for circling the mountain had ended, and the time to get on with the journey had come. My son, who was six at the time, broke his femur while playing tackle football at recess. What followed was a major surgery, screws and plates being inserted into his leg, a month and a half of being in a wheelchair, and months ...

  I wish I could tell you that I never struggle with the concept of a God that knows and loves me.  I still have times where I wonder if he really knows what is going on in my life. And those questions seem to get louder on days like Mother's Day. Today like most women, I had very low expectations for good things coming my way. I had tried to convince my kids to pick something out for me the other day when we were out shopping, but after 30 minutes of a four year old throwing a temper tantrum, and multiple shoppers offering to take her, I knew that wasn't going to happen. Fast forward to Mother's Day eve, and I was at the grocery store by myself (a treat) to pick out what I wanted for a Mother's Day meal, and to select a bouquet of flowers for myself. I had zero expectations of getting breakfast in bed, and knew that the only special meal or gift that I would be receiving the next day, I would have to purchase. So imagine my surprise, when while playing with my kids in ...

  Standing in my kitchen two years ago making rolls for my young family during General Conference weekend I knew that if anyone needed a miracle it was me. Jesus Christ remained the only person who I thought could fix the mess that I found myself in. Home life was hard, my marriage was hard, and the peaceful family life that I had experienced growing up in my youth seemed at times a far distant cry from the regular interactions that existed in my little family. As I moved between watching General Conference in the living room to listening to it from the kitchen, my mind drifted to the current state of affairs in my family. My husband and I were on our third marriage counselor in four years, and between just having moved in after remodeling our home top to bottom, to the both of us working full-time, me going to school full time to finish my Master’s degree, and having a toddler and a 5-year-old to contend with on top of that, life seemed to be unraveling. Too much yelling and not...

If you are like me, it feels a little icky to teach your kids about Santa only to then know one day they will "find out" and realize you've been stringing them along.  Because my oldest went through a lot with the divorce, I wanted to make sure the "Santa conversation " not only helped him still feel the magic of Christmas, but that it didn't erode the trust that I had built with him after navigating some tumultuous years. I have kept my ears to the ground for awhile about this subject, so when my son came to me this year asking, I felt ready. He came home one day from school, and in his rather matter of fact way announced that he knew that the Santa's at the Santa shacks and at the malls were just men dressed up. But with a desire to know the truth in his eyes, looked at me and said, now tell me, is there a real Santa at the North Pole? I told him that he was correct, that the Santa's dressed up weren't real, but that the question of real Santa ...

   It was my little girl's 3rd Birthday on Sunday and wanting to still social distance, I decided to put on a Puppy Parade!  The logistics were simple. And I saw this done on a social media page in my old neighborhood. All you do is invite your community to walk their dog past your house on the predetermined day. I had this sign on my front lawn for a few days leading up to the event, I asked my church community to post the information on the weekly announcement email that goes out, and I posted the information on my local community's social media site.  The day arrived. I rented a snow cone machine (because who doesn't love FREE snow cones on a hot summer night) and I had dog treats for the puppies that would come!  As you can tell, the three year old is not excited for this thing to start at all! And the puppies came!  Big Dogs Black dogs Fluffy and White dogs! Oh my. (Doesn't this photo look like that is what she is saying?)       ...