Late Night Rambling

Its late and I should be asleep, but I can't shut my brain down.  That's happened a lot the last couple of years, though usually its been worry about family members or friends that has kept my mind racing.  I've never done well with watching people I love carry burdens that I feel powerless to change, and relatively ineffective at helping to bear, and a lot of people I love have been carrying a lot of heavy burdens the last few years, with no easy resolution in sight.

Tonight, however, the reason I've been unable to quiet my mind is overwhelming gratitude.  For dinner, I ate reheated leftovers from a delicious meal that a friend brought over for my family a couple of days ago.  I only met her about a year and a half ago, but she has become one of my closest, most trusted friends in that time.

I had a seizure Thursday morning and ended up in the ER.  Doug messaged her to let her know, in hopes that she might inform the professor I was supposed to meet with that afternoon.  She notified the nursing department of my situation and then walked over to the hospital to check on me.  Without anyone asking a thing, she offered to bring dinner (not a small task when you're dealing with a family of 6).  I continued to have small, partial seizures throughout the day, and so her presence was like a ray of sunshine when she showed up with a fresh cooked meal for my hungry, somewhat nervous kids.

While I was in the hospital, a few other friends took care of little Keira Belle.  Kaytee has watched Keira on a nearly daily basis the entire time I've been in school, and I couldn't do my life right now without her.  Her generosity has been the energy on which my family has run, to a large extent.  She has a great sense of humor and is a lifeline as a mom-in-arms who just totally gets whatever it is I may be dealing with with the kids on any given day.  Kaytee was supposed to be working that morning (in fact, I was supposed to be watching her kids), and so Tessie, a lovely woman from the ward who lives just up the street, and who, along with her teenage daughters, is pretty much adored (deservedly so) by my kids, took Keira to work with her while we got things sorted out.

Until further notice, I am prohibited from driving, and you wouldn't believe the number of people who have volunteered--entirely sincerely--to be my personal chauffeur.  When you live in rural Montana and can't drive (and its raining), there isn't a whole lot you can do.  But reflecting is always an option.  I've spent a lot of time the last few days reflecting on the last few months, the last year, and I'm having a hard time processing how blessed I have been.

We just returned from a trip to California, where my sister-in-law/best friend was an amazing host: staying up talking with us till all hours of the night, giving fabulous haircuts to me and all my girls, making us fabulous dinners, sending us on dates.  It'd been 2 years since we'd been able to be in the same place, but we talk on the phone regularly and  I don't know what I'd do without her.  I am not someone who puts friendship to the test a lot, but due to circumstances not entirely within my control, her loyalty has been put to the test and she has come through with flying colors time and time again.  I've seldom been more certain of anyone's love for me.  And I adore her--few people make me laugh as much and put me as ease so readily as her.  It was wonderful to be with all my in-laws again; so many people don't even get one solid, reliable family in life, and I got two.  Doug's brother and sisters (and brothers-in-law) are truly wonderful people that I'm privileged to be connected to, and it was fun to have so many reminders of that last week.

Another dear friend sent me several messages over the last few days, checking in on me, reminding me that she loved me.  She gives me courage; I have seldom seen anyone else carry such heavy burdens with such tremendous grace and strength of character.  I don't imagine that's how she sees herself, but I can't not see her that way.  To be loved by such a person is no credit to me; she is simply a person of outstanding love, in both quantity and quality.

Visiting with her reminded me of the goodness of another friend--one I failed to visit while in California--who, through her charitable heart and clear-eyed perception, has been an incredibly Christlike servant of my family and several of the people I love most.  On top of that, she sent us a generous, entirely unexpected Christmas gift.  She was our Santa Clause this year.

My family.  I can never say enough words of gratitude about the incredible family to which I was sent.  Moms simply don't get a lot better than my mom: patient, generous (especially with her time), calm and easy-going, she manages to make most things in my life easier without ever actually interjecting herself into my life.  My sisters, who are always enriching my life with their talents and time, who do so much for me and my kids.  My brothers, who have had a lot of uphill climbing the last year or two and have still managed to be attentive and affectionate to me and my kids.  My littles think they have the coolest uncles on the planet, and they aren't far off.

The extended family is pretty high on that list, too.  I got to talk to two of my favorite uncles last week.  One invited us into his home, stayed up talking with us till 3 in the morning, and then got up and made us bacon and hash browns and eggs before he headed to work.  He makes me smile so much.  The other has been one of my favorite people for literally as long as I can remember.  I love that he is so unashamedly who he is--I love seeing how much fun his kids have with him, and that its easy to observe his love for his kids and nieces and nephews in action.  He helps me feel close to my grandma, and I'll never be able to thank him enough--none of us will--for how generously he cared for her in her waning years.   I love to be able to smile with him, and he smiles readily for me.  I love him for that.

And Doug.  Last week, I noticed him taking my hand more, putting an arm around me more.  Maybe its just that I'm finally to a point in life where I'm not constantly holding a kid, or holding multiple kids' hands everywhere we go.  Maybe it was just him feeling relaxed and attentive, having been able to take a real break for the first time in probably 2 years.  Maybe some part of him sensed that some part of me was wearing a bit thin after 4 very long years.  Whatever the reason, the last couple of weeks its been easy to remember why I fell in love with him.  He's a good father, and I love to watch him teach the kids--something he does at once both very consciously and very naturally.  I love hearing him read novels to them, or explain scriptures to them, or throw out some fun facts about California rail history.  He makes me laugh.  He gives me confidence, because I know that he never says anything he doesn't believe to be true.

There are so many more, so much more that I'm grateful for, but I think I've put down enough now to be able to sleep, and my four greatest blessings will be waking me up in about six hours, so its probably time I lay me down to sleep so that I can see them as blessings when they come marching down the stairs ;)

Every Day Treasures: Why Being Mom is Enough

These items go with me everywhere I go, every day.  My keys, which have two keychains on them: a Monopoly car, and a Westover Ranch centennial medallion, both scrounged from the giant "key chain ball" that was every grandkid's favorite toy at Grandma Umphrey's house.  My wallet, which belonged to my Grandma Lettie.  I don't know where or when she got it, and don't ever remember her using it during my life, but it was hers and that's enough for me.  Grandma Elda's most recent temple recommend.  Grandma Lettie's driver's license.

The truth is, these two women would be with me everywhere I go, every day, without these little tokens.  But it is nice to have something to hold that helps me remember their love and devotion.

Few influences in my life loom larger than my grandmothers.  One was the embodiment of my childhood, the other was my most trusted friend during my years of young motherhood.  They both taught me how to have joy, how to love my family, and showed me over and over and over again that I was always loved.  I often hear thoughts in my mind throughout the day and then realize the voice I heard them in belongs not to me, but to one of my grandmothers.  I sometimes catch myself in the middle of an action, reaction, or way of doing things and realize that it is an approach I "caught" from one of them.  If added up, the amount of time I spent in their presence or on the phone with them would amount to years of my life. Who I am has a lot to do with who they were to me.  I will never be able to thank them enough.

It would probably be safe to say that the only person who has influenced me more than them is my own mother.  I don't have any trinkets in my purse that came from her, but she's with me everywhere I go every day, too.  I think Mom would agree that I was a pretty easy kid, and a pretty difficult one.  I mostly wanted good things.  I mostly desired to be kind--I wanted to be loved, and just as badly I wanted people to know that I loved them.  But I also have an insanely stubborn, sensitive streak.  Somehow, in some Mom-magical way, she managed to work around that so that I never felt pushed enough to want to push back, but also didn't coddle me.  She truly nurtured me:  she helped to build on that independence by making me absolutely secure in her love, patience and affection for me.  She taught, but she didn't dictate: I was given reasonable boundaries, but encouraged to make my own decisions and accept the consequences of them.  As good decisions were made, trust and independence were expanded.

As independent-minded as I tend to be, who I am has been shaped tremendously by the women who devoted their lives to nurturing me.  How I move through the world, how I conduct myself, how I parent my own kids, are all affected--from the biggest decisions, down to the tiny daily habits--by the women who mothered me.

That would be incredible enough.  But I am far from the only individual who feels that way about these women.  They have had that influence on many other children and grandchildren.  When it comes to the types of accomplishments that the world tends to honor and remember, it would easy to think of my grandmothers as lost to history.  But they aren't.  There are hundreds of people who move through life with the name of one of these wonderful women etched on their hearts, with their little, every day actions and habits influenced by these moms and grandmas.

I think about my grandmas sometimes when I see my mom surrounded by her 20+ grandkids.  They all spend so much time with her, and in her home.  They love and are loved by her, and she is, on a daily basis, helping to shape who they are just by being who she is.

I can't think of a better--more meaningful, joyful, or significant--way to spend my life than being a mom. And I am grateful today and every day to have been surrounded all of my life by women who showed me that.

Comfort

Twelve years ago, I had a seizure.  While my brain rebooted itself and I regained consciousness, I couldn't articulate anything, and I was somehow completely aware that if you had asked me what my name was, I couldn't have told you.

The only thoughts to clearly come up in my mind were an image of my soon-to-be husband Doug, and an image of my twin brother, Michael.  I couldn't have explained at that moment who they were, but the image of their faces in my mind somehow made a disorienting and frightening situation OK.

There's been a lot of stress the last few years, in our lives, in the lives of people we care about.  Relationships have changed, relationships have ended, jobs have ended, lives have been rearranged.  But I still find the presences of both these men inherently reassuring.  I've had moments where I've wanted to string one or the other up by his toes, but I've never, never doubted that they love me,  and that I can count on them. 

My first day of clinical for my nursing program, my very first patient died.  His family wasn't there, which made me a little sad, but it was merely an accident of timing, not the story of his life.  An instructor made the comment that we all come into the world alone.  In my head I thought, "I didn't".  No one else may die the same day as me.  But my twinhood and my marriage have made me believe that no one comes to or leaves this world alone.

And a sort of rough Friday last week told me that I'm right to count on those two.   I'm glad that, in a life overflowing with good and generous people, the Lord gave me both of them.  They're good men, good fathers, good friends and I'm grateful to be loved by them both.

Good Cheer

The text--more or less--of yesterday's Sacrament Meeting talk.

Thursday afternoon, I took a break from studying long enough to read some news before starting dinner. That was a mistake.  I just kept thinking, “the whole world is exploding!”  Its a mess out there, brothers and sisters.  So I switched gears, and I opened up Instagram on my phone, and a dear friend had just posted a photo of her daughter, who was one of my girls when I served in YW, who is out serving a mission right now.  And as I thought about Sister Robinson out there preaching the Gospel, bringing people to Christ, I felt better.  Nothing will give you hope for the future quite like working with the youth of the Church.  Suddenly, I remembered one of the last lessons I did with those girls before I was released.  I don’t actually remember what the lesson was about, but I asked one of the girls to read John 16:33 (be of good cheer, I have overcome the world), and two of the other girls started to giggle.  I said, “What’s so funny?” One of them said, “You manage to work this into almost every lesson, no matter what its about.”  I figured there are worse things to be known for.

I am a big believer in putting a smile on your face and, through trust in the Lord and his grace, finding something in every situation to rejoice about.  Our lives can be very difficult, and the world is an atrocious mess, but the Lord is there to lift and cheer us.  Elder Marvin J. Ashton once said, “With God’s help, good cheer permits us to rise above the depressing or difficult circumstances. . .It is sunshine when clouds block out the light.”

I have spent time over the years thinking about the circumstances in which the Lord offered that commandment and comfort.  In Matthew, we read about an experience in the Savior’s ministry where he visited a man afflicted with a palsy.  He whispered gently “Son, be of good cheer; thy sins be forgiven thee.”  When others doubted his authority to extend that forgiveness, he then healed the man physically, commanding him--a man who was bed bound and probably had been for some time--to arise and walk.  In this story we find one of the most tremendous reasons for each of us to be of good cheer, and that is that, whatever our circumstances, through the power of the Savior’s atoning sacrifice, we can be healed and whole, both physically and spiritually.  As long as we sincerely repent, we can be freed from the bondage of any sin or mistake.  Sometimes, like with the people of Alma, the natural consequences of our sins may occur after we have repented, and in such circumstances it can be easy to feel discouraged or forgotten.  We sometimes need to be reminded that the Lord cannot usurp the agency of his children, but he will not leave us in bondage forever and, just as he did with the people of Alma, he will bear those burdens with us, lightening the load and strengthening our backs, so that we might know he is beside us and we might submit “cheerfully and with all patience”.  Relief will come, and the Lord will forgive and uplift as we strive to move forward.                 

After Jesus fed the five thousand, he sent his disciples to cross the sea on a boat as he went away alone to pray.  While his disciples sailed, a wind arose and began to toss their ship about in the waves.  When they initially saw the Savior out on the water, they were afraid, not knowing who or what it was.  He reassured them, “Be of good cheer; It is I; be not afraid.”  By walking across the water to reach them in the midst of the storm, the Savior teaches us that no element or circumstance can separate us from his love and protection.  We are often tossed about by storms not of our making and that we can’t control, but he is there in the midst of the storms to keep our boat upright and to bring joy that would otherwise be swallowed up by fear.  I think its also important that we remember that Peter then stepped out of the boat, with faith in the Savior, and--in the middle of the sea, in the middle of a storm and, as mortal as he was--was able to take a few steps on top of that water himself.  We have the ability, through unwavering faith in our Savior and his power, to conquer any element that besieges us, to walk confidently through any storm that threatens us.  That reassurance of coming off conquerors through him that loved us can give us the courage to follow the commandment to be of good cheer, even while the storms rage.

And that brings me to Paul, who I have always imagined as the epitome of a happy warrior.  When reading his writings, its apparent he was quite serious-minded, but also of a happy heart. I think GK Chesterton probably had Paul in mind when he wrote, “Jesus promised his disciples three things: that they would be completely fearless, absurdly happy, and in constant trouble.”  Paul was all three.  He was a bold missionary, traveling far and wide, fearlessly and unapologetically proclaiming the Gospel to all would listen.  Those who sat in positions of power in many of the places that he taught didn’t appreciate that, including--perhaps especially--those corrupt men who held positions of authority in Jerusalem.  At one point, Paul was scourged--whipped--and thrown into prison for refusing to recant his testimony of the living, resurrected Savior.  As he sat in his cell, the scriptures tell us that “the Lord stood by him”--I choose to believe this is meant quite literally--”saying, Be of good cheer, Paul: for as thou hast testified of me in Jerusalem, so must thou bear witness also at Rome.”  The Lord reassures Paul--as each of us--that as we bear witness of him, no matter the circumstances or consequences, he stands beside us and will protect us as tend to the work he has asked us to do.  As we stand as witnesses for him, he stands as an advocate for us with the Father, and is our most true and constant friend.  Following this experience, the Lord expanded and magnified the opportunities Paul had to teach and testify, further increasing his influence and reward.  No good work in his name goes unnoticed and unrewarded.

Which brings me to the last individuals I’d like to speak about: Noah and Moroni.  Now, in speaking of good cheer, that might sound a bit counterintuitive.  Few individuals in the history of the world have lived through as much depressing, tragic time as these two men.  

Noah was a man of devout faith.  Ordained to the Priesthood at the young age of 10 by his grandfather Methuselah, Noah watched as the world around him disintegrated into abject wickedness.  The Lord commanded Noah to declare the Gospel and preach repentance, and he did so faithfully--for decades.  In return he was reviled and persecuted.  When I was younger, I used to think that that would be infuriating.  As an adult, I have come to realize that it must’ve been terribly sad.  Indeed, in Moses, we read that Noah’s “heart was pained” for his people.  He faithfully built the ark and prepared his family as the Lord had commanded, but how difficult and disappointing it must’ve been to watch the cities of the people he had tried so hard to save flooded and gone.

But thanks to modern revelation, we know that there is another chapter to Noah’s story.  The prophet Joseph Smith taught that the angel Gabriel was actually that same Noah.  Gabriel had the divine privilege of announcing to Mary that “thou shalt conceive and bring forth a son, and shalt call his name Jesus. . .and of his kingdom there shall be no end. . .For with God, nothing shall be impossible.”  The prophet who had had to witness the temporal destruction of all the people of his dispensation was able to bring to the world the glorious news that now was the time for the coming of Him who would bring about their eternal salvation--the baby whose life would become the ultimate evidence that no soul need be lost unto God, that no spirit need be beyond redemption.   I can hardly think of a more cheerful assignment in the history of the world.

Except perhaps Moroni.  Moroni watched the destruction of his people, as well.  In one of the last letters that Mormon wrote to his son, he described the depravity and evil of the people, with rape and murder and other unspeakable atrocities being committed in huge numbers among them.  And then he said, “May not the things I have written grieve thee, to weigh thee down. . .but may Christ life thee up. . .and the hope of his glory and eternal life rest in your mind forever.”  Moroni lived out the rest of his life likely alone, reviled by his people because of their wickedness, but diligently adding to and protecting the record of his people and the Lord’s Gospel.

Atop each of our temples, a likeness of the angel Moroni blows his trump, announcing the good news.  When the Gospel was restored, it was Moroni who had the honor of announcing that the Lord had come again to the earth.  We place the angel Moroni atop our temples to trumpet to the world that the Resurrected Lord is leading his people, that redemption is still possible and that, because of the work he has done, none of us ever needs to be alone.  The Lord is with us, he is with our families and those families can be eternal.  

The evil in the world is growing, but the light is growing, too. And it will never be dimmed again--it will only grow brighter and brighter.  Each year, more temples are built in diverse places around the world, bringing more families together in powerful, eternal units that repel the strength of the adversary.  Tens of thousands of missionaries are working around the world, following in the footsteps of Paul by leaving the comfort and familiarity of home to preach the word of salvation, teaching people about Jesus Christ.  It is easy to look at circumstances around us and feel overwhelmed, discouraged or frightened.  The Lord told the adversary that he would have the power to bruise the heel of the children of Adam and Eve.  He is anxious to convince us that that power is more than it is, and he is cunning.  But we must never forget that the Lord also said that we would have the power to crush the adversary’s head.  That power is our Savior, Jesus Christ, who will forgive us of our sins, heal us of our infirmities, bear our burdens with us, shelter us during storms, and empower us in our testimonies and bless us with the good cheer that comes from that confident faith in him.

Elder Holland recently said, “There is one commandment that we may unwittingly violate almost more than any other commandment the Savior gave, and that is the commandment to be of good cheer.  We’re supposed to hope, we’re supposed to be believing, we’re supposed to know it’ll get better; it will get better, it does get better. ‘These things,’ he said, ‘I have told you that ye might have peace.  In the world, ye shall have tribulations, but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world’. . .The victory has already been won. . .He is the light at the end of the tunnel. . .I have great hope.”

2 Weeks

Finals are over in 2 weeks.  I have five tests and five full clinical days (and the packets of paperwork to go with them) between now and then, but there is an end in sight, and then its summer.  I'll probably have to work a little bit, but mostly I'm going to try to spend as much time as possible playing in the yard, swimming at the pool, climbing around the park, hiking around town, and visiting mountains and ghost towns.  The kids have earned it.

I hate being busy.  I love being anxiously engaged, but I hate being busy.  I figured out very early in the marriage-and-motherhood life that if I say yes to something, that means that the whole family says yes to it.  So, I've always been very dedicated to being a wife, being a mom, and fulfilling whatever calling(s) I may have.  Everything else was negotiable.

So the 35 hours a week away from home and kids (before we even get to homework and studying) has been a challenge for everybody.  My middle children are definitely feeling like middle children lately, my oldest sometimes feels put upon because she's expected to step up a lot, and my delightful, easy, independent baby has a harder time going to school with each passing week.  I enjoy school and I'm doing well, and I'm grateful to be able to do it (and even more grateful that I have the incredible support system I have to make it possible to do), but I'd be lying if I said there weren't days when I wanted to quit, just so I could spend more time not just with them, but actually focused on them.  Doug has been working a lot of 50+ hour weeks the last few months.  God bless him.  Its hard to put in that much time at a job that you love, much less at one you tolerate well enough.  But he loves us, so he's there every day.

I know this is the norm for a lot of families, which makes me grateful that we were able to make the one-parent-at-home-full-time thing work for so long.  Hopefully we can get back close to it within a few years.

In the mean time, we're really looking forward to our trip to California.  Its been 3 1/2 year since the younger three kids and I have been there.  Two years since Keilana and Doug were.  Its been 3 1/2 years since we've seen Grandpa Barnes, or any of our amazing California friends.  Its been almost 3 years since I've been in the same room with Amanda.  That's insane.

I have a lot of thoughts rolling around in my head, and a lot of things about the kids I'd like to share.  You might have forgotten since its been so long since I wrote anything about them, but they are totally and completely awesome.  So I promise that in a couple of weeks I will do better than my once-every-other-month posting record.  Maybe just for the summer.  I might disappear again in September.  But I promise to be here for the summer.  And for me, summer starts in 2 weeks.  It'll be good to be back.

Cosette

I've been thinking a lot about Les Miserables lately.  Its a long-time favorite of mine, but recently I haven't been thinking so much about the contrast between Javert and Valjean, but between Valjean and the Thenadiers, with poor little Cosette tossed around by the decisions of everyone else in her life.

Javert is not the counterpoint to Valjean, he is the counterpoint to the Bishop.  Javert's pursuit of justice is absolute and unyielding:  it doesn't matter at all to him how charitably and selflessly Valjean has lived his life or how he has helped others; what he did was illegal, and he must take his stripes.  To Javert's way of thinking, everything else is wholly irrelevant. The law must be satisfied.  The Bishop sees a convict, as everyone else does, but he also sees a man.  He sees possibilities--what a man could become: something more, better, if only given the chance and the means.  And so he offers Valjean a tremendous gift, before any repentance has even been made.  He creates the debt by sacrificing his own precious things, and then expects Valjean to honor that debt by living worthy of the gift that has been offered to him.

The Thenadiers, on the other hand, offer a contrasting picture to Valjean and Fantine.  Valjean and Fantine try so hard to be good and decent, charitable and honest, and cannot seem to escape long-ranging consequences of foolish decisions made in their respective youths. The Thenadiers are consistently selfish and dishonest and unkind.  Their petty wickedness is terribly destructive.  For many years, not only do they seem to bear no ill consequences for their thievery, their extortion of Fantine (which ultimately leads, albeit indirectly, to her tragic death), or their questionable business practices, they instead seem only to prosper through all of it.

And in the middle of it is Cosette.  Her mother's youthful impulsiveness and poor judgment are responsible for her unfortunate living arrangements with the abusive Thenadiers.  Even after she is rescued by Valjean, who loves and dotes on her as a father, her life is restrictive and half-lived because of his need to be as unseen and unknown as possible because of his earlier mistakes.  She is an embodiment of the all-too-painful reality that you alone are never the only soul who lives with the consequences of your decisions.  Innocent souls with no power over the situation are often tremendously affected by the things you do--sometimes long after you've done them.  Remember that when tempted to do something selfish or stupid.

On the other hand, I think its important to remember how the story ends.  First of all (and this probably isn't the most important lesson, but I'm still petty enough that its important to me), the Thenadiers end up broken and miserable.  The prosperity does not last forever, and there are forms of justice to which everyone must eventually answer.   More importantly, however, is that Cosette obtains the life that those who truly love her hope she will have.  Because Valjean does repent (whether French law recognized it or not) and lives his life selflessly trying to protect and nurture and teach her, she finds a life of happiness and fulfillment.

And I think its just as important to remember that.  Your mistakes don't have to define you forever, and they will not define the people you love who may be now bearing some of the consequences, either.  When you have repented and are sincerely trying to do the right thing for the individuals that the Lord has placed under your stewardship, he will bless them with protection and direction, even if that seems impossible to believe right now.  We cannot control the consequences of our choices, and that it why it is so important to keep the commandments and to live as righteously as we are able. But we, and the people we love, will not be forever punished for our sins.  Just as the Bishop offered the candlesticks before Valjean even admitted taking the silverware, the Savior offered the Atonement before you realized you had gone astray.  It is infinite in expanse and endless in duration, and it can redeem and protect you.  When you offer sincere prayers for the innocent souls you feel unable to protect, the Lord hears you.  He has wrapped the redeeming, enabling love of that Atonement around them, too.  When the mists of darkness press down, hold tight to that rod and keep moving forward.  There is light at the end of that path, no matter how dark and stormy some of the seasons along the way may be.

Decorating the Tree

We finally got our tree decorated tonight.  The tree is not a groomed, symmetrical, farmed fir.  None of the ornaments match or coordinate in really anyway, and are thrown on somewhat haphazardly wherever the kids happen to be able to reach.  I couldn't love it more.

Decorating the tree is always one of my favorite parts of getting ready for Christmas.  This simple activity is consistently one of the best reminders of how much love surrounds us.

This year, the tree itself was a gift.  A man in our ward--who has consistently been wonderfully kind to our family since we moved into the ward a little more than two years ago--found out we were still without a tree.  On Sunday, he asked how high our ceilings were, and then showed up on our porch that afternoon with this beautiful 10 foot pine.  He and his wife had gone out after church in the snow (about 3 feet deep where they went) and cut a tree for us.

The ornaments are a mish-mash of thoughtfulness and affection.  There are the little snowmen ornaments and the temple ones from Mimi and Papa.  There's the pewter one from Papa Clark, and the star fish one from auntie Manda.  There are the shell ones we bought at The Shell Shop in Morro Bay when Dylan was a baby.  The black bear ornaments we bought while visiting Cabela's with auntie Jen and uncle Paul. There are the handprint and photo ornaments of various types that the kids have made over the years with me or in preschool and elementary school. There are so many which have been handmade by auntie Christa over the years for all the kids.  The tree skirt wrapped around the base was a wedding gift--made by Grandma Clark, who has now left us.

For me, it really doesn't really feel like Christmas until there's a tree up, the living room warm with the soft glow of the lights.

Our tree is decorated with love, in every sense.  The tree itself is meant as a symbol of hope, of love triumphing over death, separation, and sadness.  And the ornaments we hang on it every year are simple little reminders of how much love surrounds our family.  Because I married a boy from a town more than 1,000 miles away from the place I call home, every Christmas since we got married has been spent far away from one family or the other (or both).  The decorations are evidence that we are in the hearts of people we love but can't always be with, and I have always been grateful for the homesickness I tend to feel at Christmas time--I have always known that it exists only because there are so very many people in my life who are worth missing.

After I put my camera away and started writing, I noticed that one of our elves found a comfortable spot on the window pane behind the tree.  She's an elf that came to us from my Grandma Umphrey. Grandma said she thought the elf was a little younger than my dad.  We lost Grandma just a few months ago, and seeing little Hope (as the kids named her) perched there amongst the evergreen boughs and sparkling lights is a sweet reminder that even the separations that seem so far, so permanent are--thanks to the glorious, powerful love we celebrate this time of year--merely temporary.  I am increasingly grateful for that every year.