Our Savior's Love. . . .

I have felt like an outsider in my ward ever since our stake realigned the boundaries 9 months ago. Also with my job, I have had to deliver a firm hand to many ward members creating a not so welcoming relationship connecting me to the ward. Needless to say, I am invisible to the ones I seek to connect with and make myself invisible to those who I try and avoid. Not the best situation I've created for myself and if you happened to read my last blog about my ward, my feelings toward the whole thing are rough.

So, why do I bring this up? Well only for me to write down one revelation for myself. My cousin commented something on my last aforementioned blog that has sat inside me and grown into a bit of light.

"Church is just chaos and imperfection coming together for one purpose."

I feel like defending myself with that thought because some people in my ward think I'm losing my faith and I so very much want to tell them my faith in God has not wavered. In fact I've grown closer to him now than any other time in my life. But it's my tolerance for the ward that has weakened and this bug of a thought my cousin planted in me is what's keeping me in attendance.

I know for whatever reason, I'm suppose to be here and I'm suppose to learn something important to my character. So this is why I still attend church. And yes I am writing this during church, sitting here listening to the missionaries speak. And no my faith has not left me. I just don't like being here.

The Stranger. . . .

Do you remember when you were little and you would get teased at school? You'd run home crying and hurt from dagger-like words spewed at you from someone else in anger and your Mother would always say, "They are just jealous of you!" I've notice through facebook and Pinterest posts that even as adults we are teased and hurt by others, and our natural response is still the same. "They are just jealous of me." Except as adults we are more poetic in our response and say something more to the affect of, "Whatever they don't like in you, is just a reflection of what they don't like in themselves." I love this thought anytime I am feeling attacked by others. It makes me feel like the bigger person. The "winner" in an argument. But what if you were not the victim, but the one throwing the daggers?

I have been battling with some anger issues towards others who have hurt me in the past. I know I should just turn the other cheek, but I really don't want to. This group of random people have collectively, in one way or another, either threatened my livelihood, told direct lies about me, or have gone out of their way to make my life miserable. Now, this group of people are ones I see at least once a week and they on the rare occasion speak to me as if none of the aforementioned daggers were thrown into my back. (A bit dramatic I know, but I'm upset, so I'm allowed.) This is where the other cheek comes in. I know, deep down in my Christian heart, I should be the bigger girl, turn the other cheek and forgive, but I just can't. And since I can't, my bitterness towards them has festered into something that I don't find fitting to my character. I hate them.

Every time I see them or talk to them or even notice their existence, I give off the energy that they are not welcome near me. I don't say anything rude, or even out loud, but I most definitely dislike their proximity to me and do everything I can to translate it to them by short answers to their questions, lack of eye contact and obvious changes of direction. The discomfort that I feel has even prompted thoughts of moving and/or changing where I attend church.

So today when I read someone's repeated post about one person's attitude being a reflection of what they dislike in themselves prompted me to think, wow, what does all my anger towards these people say about me?

I had posted something on facebook where I shared a belief I had about how it is best if we not compare ourselves to anyone else because then we don't have the expectations that create fictitious ideas of what "good" and "bad" are. One dear friend of mine posted her opinion on it and I'd like to take the liberty to share what she had to say.

 "First we need to love ourselves, in order to love others. I personally feel that people who have love and respect for themselves, have a much easier time than people who dislike or don't respect themselves. Make sense? Love begets love....judgement begets judgement. Once we stop judging ourselves, we can stop judging others. Just my humble opinion ♥"

*sigh* Okay, so obviously I agree with her. And as much as I dislike the idea that I could be in the wrong, I must admit that I am. *grrrr* Not that it excuses at all what they did to me, I must stop treating them the way I have been.

This is not going to be easy, and because I am stubborn, I know it will take some time to completely overcome the urges I have to punch them in the face when they walk by. However, I know my Lord would have me do so. Besides, I don't want to have to ask for their forgiveness at judgement, so I might as well grant them the forgiveness my Savior has asked me to give them.

This whole blog has really brought me inner reflection. I hope it will for you too. I know the next time I reach into my figurative bag to pull out my imaginary poison tipped dagger, ready to throw at annoying people, I will take that second to look at myself in the mirror and find out what is going wrong with me. I am the only thing I have control over in my life. If I'm angry, then I have control over it. If I want forgiveness, I have control over it. If I want to truly be a happy person regardless of whom I encounter, I have control over that. And whatever I send out into the universe, is what will come back to me. So I better be sending out good energy.

So the next time we have anything bad, or ill spirited to say or do towards anyone for whatever reason, maybe we could take a moment to reverse our wise Mother's words and ask ourselves, "What am I jealous of in them?"

She Doesn't Know. . . .

I have been battling with self esteem issues for my whole life. And even at my age, I still have demons that stop me from being positive with myself. For the most part, I simply feel like I don't ever measure up, whether it's in inches or miles, I see myself falling short every day. Most days I can handle it, and try to give myself some slack, but other days are too overwhelming and I cannot stand tall. I'm either not thin enough, not strong enough, not talented enough, house isn't clean enough, dinner isn't good enough, I forgot this, I forgot that, I didn't notice enough, budget's not covering enough, I missed this, didn't go to that, didn't spend enough time here, should be better at this there, should serve more here, don't waist time here, I shouldn't be so tired, etc. Etc. ETC. . . . I'm not good enough! This is what plays in my head each day.

Now I know I can't say "I'm the only one" because I'm not. Pinterest is filled with little funny saying that translate to a cry for help being re-pinned all the time. My most recent one is, "I smile to hide how completely overwhelmed I am." A theme to my blog is, "I'm not that good, I just smile that well" because I have adorned a fictitious smile many, many days of my life just so it will make others feel comfortable. If my face actually showed what I was feeling, no one would sit by me. (Not that they do anyways.) But it's easier for me to fake it, than burden others with what's really going on.

So why is this going on anyway? Why do we, in general, put ourselves down? No one's going to drag you through the mud better than yourself, so why do we do it? My husband compliments me daily and I find it so hard to believe him because what's playing in my head drowns out his words. Is it easier to be on the bottom? Is there less to live up to if we always say we're less than a certain level? What is stopping us from being positive? What is stopping us from being happy with what we can do and who we are?

I love female comedians, and one of my favorites posted something online a bit ago that made me realize the tape that played in my head needed to be erased and replaced with something I do every day anyways. Please take a moment to watch and listen to her advice.

I would never tell any one of my daughters that they are not good enough. Or that who they are is not who they should be. I fill my day for them with compliments and "good job"s, "I'm so proud of you"s, and anything else I can do to get them to feel happy about themselves and what they've done. When did that way of talking stop for myself?

I do believe that regardless of the choices we have made, the way we look, the cleanliness of our homes, the amount of nutrition in our dinners, the intentions that we have and the efforts that we make, our Heavenly Father loves us. And just like the way we speak to our children, He wants us to feel happy about ourselves. I know God is an advocate of happiness. I know that he wants so much for us to find the happiness that is within us. God does not make crap! God does not make someone who is not good enough. It is what we compare ourselves to that changes how we view ourselves. This video was a swift kick in the butt for me. I want so much for my daughters to love themselves, I cannot forget that I am their greatest exemplar.

I hope that each one of you reading this realize how wonderful you are and start saying that to yourselves each day and be happy!

So I ask you this, Are you happy today?

The Nurse Who Loved Me. . . .

Today I feel the need to write. But I'm also afraid of writing what I'm feeling. I'm sorry, but I must be cryptic because this is not exactly my story.

It's been a rough day for me. I received some news that stings an all to familiar sting, and yet I'm calm. When news like this came around the first time, I panicked and immediately went into denial. Now that the similar news is here again, I'm not so naive. So as I'm trying to figure out how to navigate the next two weeks the title of this blog's song pops into my head, and I think for just a moment what it would be like to slip into another world and not experience what is happening right now. I can imagine myself lying on the floor, experiencing life in a deliriously happy slow motion while everyone else runs around in chaos behind me. Myself being completely oblivious to the truth and pleasantly distracted by the simple topography of my living room rug. Alas, I cannot.

Even though I feel completely drained from the day's news, I find myself at peace. Not a happy peace, but more a "God knows what he's doing so relax" peace. I can't even get mad yet.

I don't have an ending to this blog. Like I said I just needed to write. . . .

I guess I ask you this question, How do you cope with something you don't want to face but know deep down you can't avoid?

Settle Down. . . .

I have had a thought plaguing me for over seven months. It's a thought that makes me cry and go into an almost depression like state. If I were a doctor, I'd diagnose myself with a pre-midlife crisis syndrome. But since my doctorate is only from WebMD, I'll explain.

I have three beautiful daughters and for the past three years I have been counting down the days until my youngest was in school full time. Well, those days now equal less than three months and the knowledge that I won't have to worry about a sitter during the day any more is liberating and brings the sensation I'm sure Kate Winslet felt as she stood on the tip of the Titanic, arms spread wide, wind on her face and a handsome man breathing his warm breath down her neck, unadulterated attractive freedom! So when I remarried earlier this year, my mind reset into a past phase. My mind said, "Well Heidi, you're married now, time to have kids." Panic attacks set in quickly when I realized my body was "nesting" and my emotions were preparing for me to have another baby. This was something that my hubby and I discussed quite deeply before we were to wed because he is 13 years older than me and is to be a grandpa this year. We had decided that the option was on the table, but that it was not to be acted upon in the first year as to limit the amount of drastic adjustments we would in no doubt face while blending our families together. Unfortunately for me, my body and mind didn't read the memo.

When my youngest was born, my then-now ex-husband and I had decided we were done having kids. This was something that killed me inside. Our marriage was only a business transaction at that point and I felt it was one more thing that had died as a result. However, circumstances led me to needing a cesarean for delivery and when it came time to conveniently make an end to my fertile womb, something frightened me to a degree of silence and I only quietly wept as I was stitched up. I chose to not have the procedure. For years I thought it meant that I was not finished having kids and weighed that knowledge heavily against the men I dated as a deciding factor of if I would marry them. It was a bit of a challenge weighing it against my hubby because it seemed that the likelihood of us having kids was very slim. But I realized that regardless if we were to have kids, I wanted to be married to him, and so, here we are today.

This is what I am now stuck between:

~On one side of me lies the innate, "programed" way of life as a traditional wife and mother and the very strong desire to have a little one running around that looks like my hubby. A very good way of living.

~On the other lies my job and the ability of advancement, all my kids being independent, a full night's sleep, weekends where it's just my hubby and me, and the knowledge that I could possibly only share my life with him for another 30 or so years. Another very good way of living.

I am torn, not between the two, but at the realization I may be ready to leave the baby making phase behind, let my kids grow up and identify myself as someone more than a mom with young kids.

I'm only 33 and my mom was 36 when she had her youngest and my older sister is pregnant with her fifth the same time my baby sis is having her first. So it's not like the idea of having more kids at my age is far fetched. AND Bruce Willis just had his forth and he's 57ish so thinking that Handsome is too old to have kids at 46 is not really true, also considering his brother of 40ish and just had his first.
So this whole rant now leads me to this blog's question, When did you know it was alright to stop having kids?

I spoke about this to my sister(in-law) just the other night because like I said, it's been plaguing me. She at 30 decided four years prior she was done having kids and adamantly expressed how she did so with the reason being, "she wanted to enjoy her husband".  I feel the same way. I relish in the nights where it is just us two in a quiet home, free to run here or there or even naked around the house without the chance of a child interrupting our bliss or cutting the evening short by way of the babysitter's curfew. It is very probable that in ten years, Handsome and I could take off at will for any destination, just us two without the shadows of whining kids darkening our fun. (Not to say that family vacations aren't a bucket of fun!) Yet, I look at him and almost cry because I don't have a kid that looks like him.
Would it be all that terrible if I didn't have any more kids? Would it be all that hindering on my adult life to have another? I DO NOT KNOW!! What I do know is that the more time that goes by it leaves me feeling more and more reassured that my family is good enough the way it is and that I may be ready to switch from the diaper phase to the high school phase and not realize it, and this scares me. What are your thoughts on this? Did you just know you were done having kids or was it a struggle for you too? I feel very frightened at times when I contemplate this life altering decision (which doesn't need to be made today, it's just an imminent decision).

So I ask you, When did you know you were done having kids?
-or- When did you know you needed to have one more?

Thank You Very Much. . . .

I simply have to say how blown away I am with the responses given towards my last post Lost. . . . I was actually overwhelmed by all of the advice and responses. Some of you wrote that you were sorry or thought I might be offended at your opinions, but to that I say, Heavens NO! Life is such a learning process and I only took your opinions to heart for the better. Better for myself and better for the way I should write in explaining my thoughts. Writing for me is a way of releasing what can sometimes torment me. I was bothered by last Sunday so much that I couldn't sleep and needed to release my anger through words. I was only writing it for me and did not expect such passion to be released from all of you. And just like I have a right to my thoughts, you have a right to yours and I respect that. So thank you.

Lost. . . .

I'd like to paint you a picture, if you will:

It's Sunday, and church is the norm. You get yourself respectfully dressed and walk the block to church on a beautifully cool summer day. You step into the chapel expecting to become edified and are taken back by the most beautiful improvisational piano prelude music. You have never experienced such music in church before. The melismas and melodic depth transforms the most simple hymn into a work of moving art. Tears were brought to your eyes until your ears become clouded. The grey, dark cloud of adult conversation billow over the pews and begin to drown you in gossip, cackles and unnecessary noise until the view of the colorful melody being performed from the stand disappear from sight. This was my Sunday.

A gentleman with exquisite talent was filling in for our regular organist and I do wish he would more often. It was simply beautiful! An experience rarely seen and from my point of view deeply appreciated. Unfortunately, it was literally drowned out by the noise a majority of the congregation was making. I wanted to go to the pulpit and ask them to be reverent and listen to the music being played, but the meeting started too soon for me to no doubt stand on my soap box and offend many. So instead, I will stand on my soap box here. I am ashamed of my ward.

I am ashamed of my ward to the point where I do not enjoy attending church. Ironically, as I was sitting there with tears in my eyes and my thoughts reeling with frustration for the noise that continued through the meeting and distracting many from the messages of the best talks I had heard in a while, one gentleman spoke about the importance of the church. (Again, I am LDS.) I loved what he said as a point to his talk. He said that he does not come to church to have friends, but that he comes to church to be edified, taught and strengthen his own testimony. His words prompted a thought in my own mind. Is church really that important anymore?

I look at the many people in my ward, and other wards, who only come to get their bills paid, or attend because their wives make them, or don't care if their kids run wild through the stand, or break out lunch as if it's okay to even eat in the chapel, or carry on a conversation so loud it's completely clear to everyone in attendance, etc. etc. and I think to myself, "Why are you even here?!" I understand that church is for everyone, and one of my favorite quotes is, "If your sacrament meeting doesn't smell like cigarette smoke, you're not doing your job." Which means, it's open to all walks of life and if it's not filled with that, you aren't doing your job as a member missionary. So I am not at all saying that you must be perfect to go to church. I'm also clearly admitting that I've had my days where I check my facebook during a meeting and have dozed off a time or few. What I'm getting at is the noise. My point is the noise. Better yet, my point is the lack of reverence or respect for something so sacred and wonderful as what goes on during a traditional meeting. So if we are loosing that genuine respect and adopting the idea that it's okay to talk, eat, and let your kids be as noisy as they want to be, is church really that important to us?

I think of a certain individual who used to be such a beacon of light at church for me. He was one that I admired so it was such a shock to me that he suddenly stopped going to church stating that he could feel the spirit better at home than at church. I never really understood his statement until today. I really feel that the spirit in my home is stronger than the spirit that was in that meeting. So what do I do about this? I don't want to not go to church and I have faith in my Lord's gospel, I just have found myself in a state where I have no desire to attend church. I still love visiting teaching, FHE, prayer, scriptures, etc. etc. I attend my activities and encourage my girls to go to theirs. My husband and I are planning to be sealed in the temple, I just don't want to go to church because I seem to always come away feeling frustrated. Do any of you feel this way?

I have no idea what to do. I am lost. I know the primary answer would be to understand that we are all human and that no one is perfect, but I'm not seeking perfection. Am I? Is the expectation of a reverent sacrament meeting too high? I'm sure I need to take a slice of humble pie and take a positive twist to all of this by diving in and serving so much that by example things may change, but I have no desire to do such things. I just want my desire to attend church to return.

Let me explain my thinking to you. For me, the gospel of Jesus Christ is my religion. I am LDS, but only believe the church to be a tool to guide me in the living of my Lord's gospel. The church is not what is true for me, the Gospel is. I do believe that being LDS is the true path for me to take, but I take it to be a part of the Gospel. Do you see the difference between the two? The Gospel is true. The church supports the Gospel. In my mind they are separate things that need each other to work. Because the Gospel is run by God and his Son Jesus Christ, it is constant and true and what I have for my foundation of faith. Because the church is run by humans and will always have an element of imperfection, my faith is not supported by it only guided by it with my own judgement. I hope you have a clear understanding of how I believe in my religion. (If not, ask away and I will do my best to explain.)

So has my faith in God dwindled? Not at all. Has my desire to bring forth the knowledge the LDS church has to others? Not at all. Do I still wish for others to come closer to God through the church? Yes I do. I just don't feel like attending anymore. It's like I have too much respect for what should go on during church to witness what really does. I really wish I had an answer to this question today. I have about 40 people reading my blog. Would you please give me some advice on this? I love my Lord, I love the LDS church, I just don't like how it's being treated. I hope I have not offended anyone, I am just being honest and sincerely ask for your help on this.

So I ask you, Is church really that important to you anymore?