Within Our Hands

I have often heard the expression "don't put your children in between you and your spouse." This is often in reference to sitting in a bench at church, but in general is a statement about placing them between our love for each other. 

One of my favorite traditions that we have in our family is that we love to hold hands durring prayer. We feel that it focuses us and unites us together. Whether or not our children choose to join us, my husband and I will always do this because we feel it shows them that we are united in our faith in God. 

Our oldest daughter is nearly 2 years old. She absolutely loves this tradition and wants to be part of it, even if she has already eaten her dinner. No matter where she is in the house, she runs to add her two little hands to the prayer. 

Sometime, however, it doesn't work to hold everyone's hand. If she has Mommy's hand but not Daddy's hand, it makes her exceptionally upset since Daddy is by far her favorite. In her 2 year old way, she exclaims "why does Mommy get to hold Daddy's hand and not me?!?" 

So, in her very sweet way, she found a solution to the problem. She started to slide her little fingers in between our hands. It was so sweet and innocent that we almost couldn't finish the prayer the first few times it happened. As time has gone by, this has become more the norm than the anomaly. She will sometimes wait until Mommy and Daddy take hands before she will slide her own in. 

Durring the sacrament prayer today, we had such an experience. Nothing new in the process, just the same sweet hand trying to participate. However, this time I was drawn to a deeper perspective of the scene. 

I realized that she always waits until Mommy and Daddy are ready. Then, she slips in the middle, very particularly careful not to separate our bond. She gentlely snuggles in the middle, calm and safe in the warmth between. 

What a beautiful representation of our eternal family!  First, before anything else, the husband and wife must take each other's hand and be united in the temple of The Lord. Our hands together in the blessings of that sacred temple provides the foundation for the family to be built. 

As children are added, they do not try to tear us apart, but rather they desire to participate in the sacred union of love between their parents. They add their little hands, their little faith, to the family as an addition, not a subtraction. 

Then, they gentlely snuggle in the warmth thereof. They could hold to one hand or the other, but is in the union of the two that provides the safest and warmest location for them to be. It is within the realm of our love for each other that we create this safe place where our children can be comforted. We call this place "home."

In so being, we do not put our children between us, but rather encircle them within us. It is when we strengthen our love and our union that we create this "home."  It is our responsibility as parents to provide this "home" for the children of our Father. Be they sent to our home by birth, by circumstance, or by the spirit. He has placed them within our hands. 

The Empty Plate

So tonight for dinner, I was making my daughter buttered noodles (her favorite!). When i told her this, she was ecstatic and jumped right up to the table ready to go. However noodles take a long time to cook in the eyes of a 19 month old. 

To appease her while she was waiting, I gave her a plate full of raspberries, which she enjoyed with sweet delight and quickly consumed. I then gave her some cereal to hold her off for the last few minutes, but those as well were gone as quickly as they had arrived. 

Finally, the noodles were done, but needed to be drained and buttered. Oh the agony! As the empty plate sat before her, she cried and whined and asked repeatedly for more. When I was finished with the noodles, I took her plate from the table over to the stove to fill it. She panicked! 

She jumped down from the table and began crying at my feet. How dare I take her plate that had held such foods thus far! "NOT DONE!" she exclaimed. I laughed to myself at the childish misunderstanding, but quickly filled her plate and turned to show her that it had been filled. All crying stopped as she took this new information in. I simply asked, "Would you like some noodles?" She nodded emphatically. "What do you say?" I said. "Peeees!" She said as she rubbed her tummy to sign the word 'please'. 

I then returned the plate to the table and told her that she would have to come to the table to get her meal. She jumped right up and began joyfully downing her feast!

In this moment, I realized how our Heavenly Father must feel when He is trying to bless His children. 

He knows that blessings appear to take a long time in our minds, so He gives us little blessings here and there to let us know that He has not forgotten to feed us. 

However, we often 'devour' these blessings so quickly and without thought that we are left every once and a while with an 'empty plate'. 

Father, knowing our hunger and our need, proceeds to present us with the trial of taking away empty plate. We, in our childish thoughts, do not understand why and are sometimes angry that the Lord would take from us all that we have. We suddenly realize the blessing of the food we have already eaten and implore Him at His feet that we were 'not done' yet, pleading with Him for even just our empty plate back. 

In this moment, I can just see Him smiling down at us and whispering, "oh, my child, do you not see the bountiful bowl before you? Do you not remember the promise that I gave you before it all began? I told you there would be better blessings for you in time. I will never leave you hungry."

In this moment, we feel humbled and cease our whining. Instead, we meekly and cheerfully 'say please'. Then, our most loving and patient Father, places our blessings where we can obtain them, as long as we are willing to work to climb back up to the table. 

How grateful I am for the many blessings that He has given me and my family. May we ever be thankful for the blessings we have and patient for the ones still to come. Thank you, Father, for taking away my empty plate. 

The Love Of My Savior

I was listening to my music today when a new song played. It was "Even When" by Hilary Weeks. What a beautiful piece!  I just love her music! What an inspiration!

So the chorus to the song goes as follows:

He loves me still, 

he loves me through 

me loves me

Even while, even when.

He loves me anyway, 

in spite of and more than. 

When I sip, when I fall, and let go

Even when I should hold on,

He loves me still, 

he loves still,

And something tells me 

he always will. 

This song literally swept me off my feet. I was changing my daughter's diaper when I suddenly began to sob. It just overwhelmed me. However, though the song was beautiful and brought a wonderful spirit, it was not the song alone that left me in tears. 

As I listened to the song, I started to think of my savior and his everlasting love for me. I thought about how he suffered for me. I thought of what his suffering means for me, how he took MY sins and MY suffering. Then, there was a line in the song that spoke about how he suffered for us anyway and either way. I thought for a moment about timing. Christ made his sacrifice so long ago.  His bleeding in the garden was thousands of years ago. And then, when he was lifted upon the cross, he told The Father that the work was done. The work for me was done so many years ago. His love for me is unconditional. He will not pick and choose the sins he is willing to pay for. He will not get to me and say "I just can't do it anymore."  Oh, My Father! The work is done! Even before I was born, he suffered for me. My Savior bought me with his blood before I could even sin! He will not leave me alone. The work is done, there is no conditions on his end. 

What a wonderful blessing to know that my Savior loved me so much that he sacrificed for me. Oh, that I might better use and appreciate this miraculous blessing!  I am overwhelmed with gratitude for My Savior and the work he did for me. 

I pray that when we are weak, when we fall, and even when, that we can remember his love for us. I pray for the strength to utilize his magnificent blessing of repentance. May we never forget his open arms. 

I will praise His name forever!

Never forget that you are loved!

Forgiveness of My Father

I know that this story happened a long time ago, but I have always felt that I needed to share it.  I recently had the impression that I needed to add it quickly, so here goes.

When I was 17, my brother and I needed to attend a CPR rue certification class for our job requirements. With neither of us owning our own car, we borrowed my mother's. the class was in the evening and got out late. On top of that, it was winter and we lived in a small town half an hour's drive away from the class. Thank heavens I had my brother to help me stay awake!

The snow had flown quickly that day and there where many drifts in the road. Luckily for us, we must have just followed a snow plow due to the freshly moved piles.  It had been a really rough winter, and there was 6 feet of snow on the side of the road. (No, I'm not exaggerating. They really were that deep.)

As we got closer and closer to home, I began to relax about the snow and the drifts.  Probably too much. Just a mile or two from home, there was a sharper curve in the road. Unbeknownst to us, the snow plow before us had laid some salt/dirt on a patch of black ice.  Without time for it to take real effect, the ice was made momentarily slicker. Along with my careless lack of attention to the road and the slickness thereof, it is no surprise what followed.

We began to fishtail quickly into the sharp curve and my lack of driving experience became evident. I over corrected and we spun in circles until we finally crashed into the 6 ft wall of snow. Snow covered the front of the car.  We were obviously trapped. In the state o the emergency, and the recent first aid class we had attended, I recognized myself going into shock. I shut down. 

I'm so very great full for my brother. He was immediately proactive and was the source of my rescue.  I handed him my phone, and making a wise decision, he called my father.  I broke into tears. My father would be furious! My mother would never trust me again! How would I ever be able to face them? My father was on his y home from work and said that it would take some time for my other brothers and him to make it out to our aid, but they would be there as quickly as they could. We waited patiently in the car. 

After a bit of time, a snow plow drove up. Seeing our distress, he stopped to see what he could do. What a gracious gesture! However, due to their rules and restrictions, the plow was not capable of giving us any assistance.  Sadly, he just sat there as helpless as we were.

A moment later, another driver showed up.  This time it was a neighbor with a truck.  He stopped to see if there was anything he could do to help, but he failed to have the equipment needed to aid us.  Again, he joined us in our helpless waiting.

Finally, my father and brothers arrived on the scene.  My brother and I slowly and carefully exited the car through the backseat, the only door that was not all but covered in snow.  I couldn't hardly look at my father, I was so ashamed of my actions.  However, with his gracious love, my father wrapped his arms around me, held me so tight, and told me in his ever loving voice how much he loved me and how happy he was that I was protected.

Immediately thereafter, my father, brothers, and our gracious neighbors began to shovel the snow off the car with the tools they had brought from home.  My father then retrieved a tow cable from his car and attached the stuck car to our neighbor's truck.  Being the teacher that he was, he asked me to climb back into the driver's seat of the car.  I was terrified.  I had failed.  How could I ever do what he asked correctly.  He just smiled and assured me that he would guild me.  True to his word, he lead me through the whole way until the car was returned safely to the clearness of the road.

All the work done, we were ready to go home.  Before we left, we thanked those who had stopped and took a look at the damage the car had sustained.  There was no functional damage, but the body around the front corner of the car where we had made impact had been ripped off.  The site was horrendous to me.  I knew for sure now that I would never be trusted with anything again.  My father just hugged me, told me it was alright, and asked me to come home safely.  He turned, reentered his own car, and drove home.  My brother and I climbed back into the little broken car and followed him.

When we arrived home, we were greeted with hugs and kisses from my mother who cried out her gratitude that we were alright.  She cared nothing for the state of the car, but only for our well being and safety.  How grateful I am for her love for me.

How blessed we are to have a forgiving Father and Mother in Heaven.  What a glorious blessing his plan is for us.

Even when we are careless and lose our way, we have our Brother, our Savior,  sitting beside us to help us communicate with Him.  He will be there waiting for us to hand Him the "phone" so that he can aid us.

Just as the plow and truck drivers were willing yet unable to aid us for their limitations and lack of the correct tools, there are so many in the world who have try to help us, but without the aid of the Father, the aid of the world was left useless.  How blessed I am for the placement of helping hands in the world that the Father uses as the truck to pull us from our despair.

What a blessing that we have the Brothers of the church empowered by the tools of the Father who are ready and able to come to our aid.  The power of the Priesthood and the blessing of Forgiveness.

How wisely the Father places us back into the position of trust and guides us through every step if we are willing to trust Him and listen to His words.  He knows the best way out and will help us to learn and to grow.   His guidance can lead us back to the safety and security of His path.

Finally, when we arrive home, we are greeted with open arms full of love.  Our Father loves us so much and cares more for our safety than we can even imagine.

Today, the car has long been gone.  I am impressed by the scar that yet remains.  Although there was no real function damage, the Father leaves the scars as a reminder of where we were.  The pain is gone.  How grateful I am for the forgiveness of my father here on the earth and for the forgiveness of my Father in Heaven.  I will praise His name for all my days!