Auntie Muriel

Happy birthday to my crazy Auntie Muriel!  My mom's brother, John, tries to claim that my mom was "the crazy aunt."  But we all know better.  No one laughs louder, tells wackier stories, lives more boldly, and exudes more joy than his wife, Muriel.  Muriel is crazy in the very best sense of that word--crazy fun!  She is also crazy thoughtful, and she has extended some pretty incredible gestures of love to my family throughout my life, particularly as we have gone through trials and heartache.

When my mom's cancer came back when I was in sixth grade, Aunt Muriel sent me my very first journal.  It was called "Sark's Journal and Playbook."  It was a big 8x10 journal with blank pages for writing, drawing, and dreaming.  Many of the pages had creative prompts at the top, and I filled every page of that book.  I poured my heart and soul into it, and it is still a treasure for me to look through.  Muriel's gift may very well be the reason that I got hooked on journaling at such a young age and am a prolific journaler today (it's kind of out-of-control how much I journal).  I think this type of journal is a perfect gift for a pre-teen going through a difficult family struggle, and Muriel somehow knew that.  (She had a few pre-teen girls of her own at that time!) :)

That same year, I had spine surgery to correct my scoliosis, and to aid in my recovery, the doctor forced me to join a year-round swim team.  I am a terrible swimmer, and I dreaded going to those practices where I was the slowest in the pool.  Around that time, my aunts each took a turn coming for a visit to help my mom (who was still recovering from cancer treatments, while also taking care of my recovery from surgery and my two sisters' daily needs).  During Aunt Muriel's visit, she took me to get a special swim cap in order to make my swim practices a bit more fun.  I remember picking it out--it was Speedo brand with a pearly sheen and all sorts of pink and purple swirls on it.  (Sounds lovely, doesn't it?)  When Muriel dropped me off at practice, she told me I was going to have the most fabulous swim cap in the whole pool, and I just needed to remember how fabulous and beautiful I was, inside and out.  Pretty awesome advice for a discouraged middle school girl!

Years later, when my mom passed away, Muriel offered to do a painting for my dad.  Muriel is a professional artist, and she is so talented.  She painted my dad's favorite photo of my mom and him together, and it still hangs in his home office today.  She has an incredible gift, and I think it is very special that she can use her gift to bring comfort to those who are struggling with loss and heartache.

She has continued to use her artwork to bless our family, first when she did a painting for me when I was going through infertility (I've written before about how much that meant to me), and last year when she did an entire art show about breast cancer which she dedicated to my mom.  Here are some of my favorite images from that exhibit:

 

This painting is titled "Why me?" It touches my heart to realize that my mom must have had moments like this when, as a 35-year-old mother of three little girls, she was diagnosed with stage three breast cancer.

Muriel used a photo of my mom (wearing a scarf due to chemo treatments) reading to my sisters and me as her inspiration for this painting.

 

I love how my mom's irrepressible spirit is captured by Muriel's use of color! As you can see, Aunt Muriel is crazy talented.  And like her artwork, she herself is full of COLOR and life and beauty.  I am very grateful that I've always had such a vibrant, thoughtful, generous, loving, crazy cool woman in my life supporting me and my family.

Happy birthday, Auntie Muriel!  I love you!

My Dad

Today is my dad's birthday.  I love him, and I am so grateful that he's my dad. 

A few years ago, I called my dad to talk to him about a woman in our church congregation who had an extremely difficult life.  When she and I talked about her struggles, my heart broke because I just wanted to make it all better for her, but I knew that I couldn't--the difficulties she was facing were too complex.  When I mentioned that to my dad and told him I was discouraged by my inability to help her, he gave me some great advice that I've never forgotten: He told me that there is always something we can do for others, even if we can't do everything.  He told me to think about my skills, resources, and abilities and just find something I could do to make her life a little bit better or a little happier.

This is how my dad has lived his life.  For years, I've watched him quietly serve others and go out of his way to make their lives a little bit better, giving of his professional expertise, his time, his resources, his love and attention--whatever that person needed that matched what he was able to give.  I've always admired my dad for the quiet strength, kindness, and commitment that are so evident in the way he loves and serves others.

When I was a kid, I remember people from church stopping by and going into my dad's office to get legal counsel.  Though I didn't know the particulars of their situations, I knew that these people had difficult lives and were so thankful for my dad's assistance and concern.  I remember feeling grateful that my dad was able to help them, even if it was just in small ways.

When we first moved into our neighborhood in 1992, my dad was asked to be a Sunday School teacher for the 10-year-old boys at our church, and he loved those wild boys so much that, 21 years later, he is still in touch with many of them.  He writes them cards on their birthdays, and I know he has been a mentor to them throughout their young adulthood and now their adulthood.  One young man from his class has a mental disability, and to this day, my dad is one of his best friends and takes him to dinner every few months.  My dad has shown me what it means to invest in relationships and do little things over the course of many years that add up to make a big difference.

When I was away at college, I loved coming home for a holiday break and looking through the notes on my dad's desk.  He had a tray on the corner of his desk where he would put cards and letters from friends and family, and I was always astonished by the evidences I would find of the little things my dad was doing for people.  "Thank you for bringing over chicken tortilla soup when I was sick."  "Thank you for remembering my birthday and taking me to dinner."  "Thank you for spending all day on Saturday helping our family move."  Sometimes there were notes from young people whom my dad was sponsoring so they could participate in extra curricular activities or semesters abroad or church missions--usually, those notes were addressed to "my sponsor" because he didn't want recognition for the help he was giving.  I never told my dad that I peeked at the notes in his tray, so he never knew that I was aware of the quiet kindnesses he was extending to the people in his sphere of influence.  Reading those notes impacted me deeply and made me admire my father all the more.

My dad has been a widower for almost ten years, but that has not stopped him from serving and reaching out.  Service was very important to my mom as well, and I love that my dad carries on many of the good things that she did for others.  I feel like it's a way that he honors and remembers her, and I know she is proud of him.  I am proud of him too.  He and my mother are my greatest heroes.

My dad once told me that sometimes he looks in the mirror and thinks, "You've gotta be kidding me!" because he feels so blessed.  He says he doesn't even know how it's possible for one man to be so richly blessed. That's how I feel when I think about my parents: "You've gotta be kidding me."  How did I get so lucky to have them?  They will never know the profound blessing it has been to be their daughter.

Happy birthday, Dad.  I am grateful beyond words for you--for your love, your wisdom, and your amazing example to me and so many others.

Miracles Happen

A few months ago, I posted this guest post written by a mother who beat the odds in her battle against cancer.

A video was recently made about this courageous mother and the miraculous story of her recovery.  Check it out here.

xo

Good News

Well, the good news is this: Ryan has a job!!  It's actually been official for a few weeks (maybe even a month?), so it feels a little anticlimactic to just now be making the announcement.  But in case some of you out there don't already know...we will be moving to TWIN FALLS, IDAHO in July!
Yee haw!

I must admit, a few years ago I never thought I would want to live in Idaho.  On my first date with Ryan, when he told me he was from a city called "Pocatello," I about died.  I had never heard of it and thought it sounded like the smallest hick-town ever.  Well, go figure, Twin Falls is actually much smaller than Pocatello...it's about 40,000 people and surrounded by lots of farms.  I know that's not that small, but I'm kind of excited about pretending I am a country girl for a few years.  Ryan is too.  In fact, last night, he was looking for rental properties on Craigslist and found a house about twenty minutes outside of Twin on 2.5 acres of land with a horse corral.  I told him that was taking it a bit far.  We will not be buying horses any time soon.

I doubt we will be in Twin Falls forever, but it should be a fun adventure for a few years, and I am so excited to be closer to Ry's family.  I love them.  We will be living about 90 minutes from Pocatello, which will be a quick day trip for Grandma if she is just dying to see Noah.  We will be about 3 hours from Utah, where we will be able to see Ryan's brother and his wife, as well as Noah's birthparents.  And if any of our friends who have family in Utah are visiting them for the holidays, they better expect us to crash the party for an evening so we can see them!  Oh, and did I mention that we will only be living 90 minutes away from the family ski cabin in Sun Valley? Ryan is very excited about that, and I have a feeling Noah is going to learn to ski next winter.  (We'll see how that goes.)  

More than anything, we just feel really good about the job.  It is a great opportunity for Ryan.  He will be in a pediatric office with several other dentists, so he will have mentors as he is starting his career.  Dentistry can be a lonely profession because there is usually just one dentist in an office, so I am glad that Ry will have some buddies to talk with and learn from.  (The guys he will be working with are really cool and fun.)  He also won't be the boss, which I am very happy about.  I want him to learn the ropes of the profession before he tries to jump into it on his own.  Eventually, he may want to run his own practice, but for now, I think it will be great to have him work 9-5 and come home with no stress.  (After his hellacious residency--more on that in another post--I cannot wait to have my relaxed, chill, happy husband back!)

And the BEST reason to move to Twin Falls???...

Tackiest Santa in history, we will be back for more next year!!

(Lovely photo taken at the ironically-named "Magic Valley Mall" in Twin Falls when Ryan first went to check out this job opportunity back in December!  So glad it all worked out, and can't wait to partake in more Idaho magic!)

Bubble Boy

Just wanted everyone to know that I'm alive.  I have lots to write about, but I just haven't found the time or energy.  I have been working on a big project for Power of Moms, and I am headed to their annual Board meeting and retreat in Utah this weekend.  (Noah is staying home, so it should actually be a restful vacation for me!)

For any of my friends who live in Utah, you should attend their retreat too.  I think it will be excellent.  Today is the last day to register.  Details here.

As excited as I am, I will miss my Noah Bug, and I know that the rest of you are probably missing him too (it's been too long since I've posted photos of his cute face). Just to "tidy you over" (as Ryan would say) until my next long post, here are some pics from this week.  My friend Lexi was babysitting him...while I was at traffic court...eh hem...and took some darling photos.  I told her she should make it into a business: babysitting and photography in one!  She has some mad photo skills.

 

I love him.

A True Story About Answered Prayers

It was about a year ago that my prayers were answered in a most unexpected way.

I was out for a run with a new friend--someone I didn't know very well but whom I hoped to get to know better--when totally out of the blue, she said, "Did I ever tell you that I went to counseling for an eating disorder a few years ago?"

"No!" I said, surprised and concerned. "Are you okay now?"

"Oh yes," she said, "but that was such a difficult time in my life.  When I look back now, it's hard to believe that person was even me."

As we jogged along on the Highline Canal trail, she talked for probably ten minutes about the nightmare of living with binge-eating disorder.  She talked about waking up in the morning or the middle of the night thinking about food, feeling swallowed up by perfectionism and the fear that she would never be enough, grazing on junkfood all day and yet still feeling empty, eating in secret because she was ashamed, knowing she had a problem but not sure how to fix it.

I listened to her, but I didn't say much.  My friend has since told me that she thought I was so silent because I was confused by what she was telling me, because I just didn't get it.  What she didn't know then was that I was quiet because my heart was pounding and a lump had gathered in my throat.

There's no way my friend could've known that she was describing me and my life.  There's no way she could've known that I had been yearning, for several years, to be delivered from a struggle with food and body image that felt all-consuming.

When she was done talking, she said, "I know this sounds crazy.  Most people just don't get it.  But through counseling and prayer and a lot of hard work, my life is so different now.  I don't struggle with food issues at all."

I was silent for a moment, and then I took a deep breath and said, "It doesn't sound crazy.  And I do get it.  In fact, everything that you just described...it's what I am living with right now."

It was one of the first times I allowed myself to talk aloud about my problem.  I had talked to Ryan, my sisters, and a few of my closest friends about my struggles--but I felt so ashamed, and I think I tried to tone down just how truly desperate I felt, even when I was talking to them.  "I should be able to fix this," I always told myself.  "I should have the willpower.  I should have the faith."  But no matter how many resolutions I made and how many lofty goals I set, I didn't change.

I felt trapped.  I felt discouraged.  To be honest, and it hurts to even write this, I felt worthless.  And so so alone.

I finally realized that my own willpower was not going to be enough to deliver me.  And that's when I turned to God in earnest.  Every moment of every day, I asked Him, "What should I do, Father?  What should I do?"  These words were sometimes audible, but most often, they were deep within my heart.

He was always, always listening--but for months, He let me grapple with my question.  I had to come to a place of total humility and reliance on Him.  And then He gave me my answer.  On a run with a friend whom I barely knew.

As we continued jogging along the dirt path, she told me about her experience in counseling.  She told me there was hope.  She told me about a book that she had used in her therapy called Intuitive Eating, and by the time I got home from running errands later that day, she had ordered me a copy from Amazon.

This was just the beginning of my journey.  I read the book, and I loved the principles that it taught, but I wasn't quite sure how to implement them.  I thought about them on and off for months, sharing insights with Ryan as they came to me, occasionally discussing my progress with that same friend who had been an answer to my prayers.  But the change was slow.  A seed had been planted, but I wasn't totally ready to change.

And then in September, with support from my sisters, Ryan, and my dad, I started counseling.  I Googled "intuitive eating counselors, Denver" and found a counseling center that focused on eating disorders.  I spoke on the phone with a therapist who had overcome her own food and body-image battles several decades before, and I felt good about it, so I moved forward.  I did one-on-one counseling with her for six months, first once a week and then twice a month.  I also attended a weekly group lead by another counselor about dealing with stress in healthy ways.  And now, I am doing a four-week "narrative therapy" group with yet another counselor at the office.  She is encouraging me to write my story, and it has been so helpful and eye-opening.

I am amazed by the impact all three of these counselors have had on my life.  They've each contributed in their own way to my journey and my recovery.  I sometimes think about the countless hours that they have sacrificed for their education, and the countless hours they spend listening to other people's problems (sounds so draining to me!), and I feel so grateful to them.  They will never know how they've blessed my life.

As for me...I am so much happier than I was a year ago.  Incomparably happier.  I now relate to what my friend said on the running path--looking back, it's hard to believe that lost, hopeless person was even me.  Though I am not yet totally "free" of my eating disorder (and yes, I've realized over the course of my therapy that this truly was an eating disorder, not just "struggles with food" as I used to describe it), I am well on my way to living a healthy, balanced life.

I feel hope, and I feel happy, and I feel very, very grateful.

I've grown so much and learned so much from this struggle.  More than anything, I've learned that the wise words of Spencer W. Kimball, one of the leaders of my church, are true: "God does nothing by chance, but always by design as a loving father...God does notice us, and He watches over us, but it is usually through another person that He meets our needs."

God worked through my friend when He inspired her to open up to me during our jog just over a year ago.  Looking back, I find it remarkable that she randomly shared something so personal with someone whom she didn't know very well.  She has since become one of my closest friends, and I've asked her if she had any suspicion of what I was going through when she brought up the conversation.  Maybe I had said something in passing that alerted her to my struggle?  But she claims that she had no idea what I was going through when she started talking that day on the running path.  I know God prompted her to share, and I know that He knew I needed her friendship in my life.

God worked through my family as I slowly opened up to them over the course of several years.  He encouraged Ryan, who witnessed more of my eating disorder behaviors than anyone, to just keep loving me, being patient with me, and telling me of my beauty and value.  He inspired my sisters to be a listening ear for me whenever I was actually willing to share.  And He inspired my dad to talk to me about the option of going to counseling when I did not want to talk to anyone about it and constantly pushed him away.  I am overwhelmed with gratitude for my family, especially because I know that most people in the world do not have so much loving support.  I try not to feel guilty about that and instead commit to loving and supporting anyone who may need it throughout my life.  I want to bless others as I have been blessed.  

God worked through my counselors to guide me and give me tools on my journey to recovery.  I think sometimes there's a belief amongst religious people that if we just have enough faith, we should be able to power through anything difficult in our lives.  If we just read scripture more and pray more, we shouldn't need the help of counselors or other professionals.  But just as God inspires doctors to help heal our physical bodies, I believe He can inspire counselors to help heal our minds and hearts.  I have felt Him in every step of this journey, both as I've knelt in prayer and as I've sat in a session with my counselor.  God's power isn't limited to certain activities or places--I believe He can and does work through every method as He mercifully reaches out to bless His children.

And now, I hope and pray that God can work through me.  He has always loved me, even when I didn't love myself.  To Him, I am precious.  Every one of us is precious.  If sharing my story can help anyone else who has struggled as I have, I will do it.  I want to be a resource to anyone who struggles with any sort of pain in this life.  I want everyone to know just how valuable and loved they are.

I thank God for hearing my prayers.  I thank Him for loving me and being mindful of me.  And, most of all, I thank Him for sending His Son to redeem me and to set me free.  No amount of willpower, no well-planned goals--even spiritual goals such as scripture study and prayer--will be enough to deliver me from my own humanity.  I need Him.  And, miraculously and mercifully, He is always willing to reach out and answer me, through various methods and various people, and often in the most unexpected ways.
 

A Visit from Noah's Birthparents!

  

Noah's birthparents came to Denver to visit this weekend.  We love them.  I can't tell you how much I enjoyed having them here and seeing them interacting with Noah, showering him with affection and attention.  The whole weekend, I just kept thinking how lucky he is to have them in his life.

We packed a lot of fun into three days: multiple trips to the park, a visit to the Denver Zoo, a morning at The Children's Museum, as well as lots of good times at home, playing, reading books, and cooking together.  I hope they had as much fun as we did!

The park:

We walked to the park, and when Noah spotted the slide and the swings in the distance, he took off running toward them. :)

The Zoo:

My favorite pic from the entire weekend.
They are so cute!

Drew informed us that if he were a kangaroo, he would be built like this. :)

Our only full group shot from the entire trip, and of course Noah is grumpy! :(

We all showed up wearing our Vans. 

Ride on the little train

The Children's Museum:

Tea party?

Fun at home:

Baking with Katie

Cookie dough stuffed cupcakes--yum!

Callum and Noah had fun wrestling with Katie and Drew in the big open space at my dad's house
(he is getting his main floor redone and has almost no furniture right now)

Reading lots of stories together.
So sweet!

And this is how Noah felt after we dropped them off at the airport to head back to Utah:

Come back soon, Katie and Drew!

We love you!