Final Thoughts on How My Heart Changed in South Africa

It's the beginning of January, and I am looking back on 2016 with fondness and also relief that it's over.  It was a good year and a hard year.  The end was particularly difficult--with a scary health diagnosis (more on that in another post) and the fundraiser for South Africa that took so much of my time and energy.

But the fundraiser is over, and it was a success.  Thanks to the generosity of a lot of people, we raised $25,000, and I am thrilled.  So thrilled, humbled, and grateful.  We still need $10,000 to finish the community center, but I have complete faith that God will provide.  If being in South Africa taught me one thing, it's that God works miracles--and it's not always in the ways that we expect or through the people we expect--but He always has a plan.  He is faithful.

During one of evening discussions with the volunteer group in South Africa, Crystal was telling us about how much she had wanted to raise the money to finish the building at Reagoboka the year before.  She had decided to donate a portion of the proceeds of one of her products to the building, and she thought if she worked hard enough and had enough faith, it would happen.

But then it didn't, and she was a little disappointed, until a distinct impression came to her: God intended for someone else to help finish that building as well.  He wanted someone else to be part of that story too.  It wasn't all about her.

I loved that.  I was so touched by her humility.  I was also surprised to realize that too often I leave God's will out of the equation when I am looking at outcomes in my life.  I simply rely on my own hard work.

Evening discussions like that one are a huge part of why my trip to Africa was so impactful.  I knew going into my trip that I would be going with a very religious organization.  I also knew that I would probably be the only Mormon and that I would be with born-again Christians who would introduce me to different ways of talking about God and talking with God.  That's a huge part of the reason why I applied to go!  Honestly, I was feeling a little stale in my beliefs and I wanted a little life and fire and "glory hallelujah" in my prayers.  Ha!   In my daily life, I am surrounded by people who share my faith tradition, and sometimes I feel so insulated.  I love to be introduced to different ways to worship and draw closer to God.

Oh how the members of my group touched me.  These people know God.  I already wrote about Pete, who prays so fervently it brought me to tears to listen to him plead with his Father.   There was also Candra, a volunteer in my group who is a mother of eight--yes, you read that correctly, eight--five of whom are adopted.  Honestly when I first heard that, I thought she must be some sort of "holier than thou" whacko--but when I met her, she is the most normal, down-to-earth, likeable, real young mother you've ever met.

She told me her story of adopting her four sons from Africa and her daughter who has Cerebral Palsy out of foster care, and it was just so touching and relatable.  She and her husband were truly lead by God and followed Him one step at a time into this life that He laid out for them.  And it's been hard.  But she and her husband are a team.  And they rely on Him, and their mantra is "Risk is Right," and I have never met anyone (other than Pete and Wanda) who lives with such faith.

I am so blessed that I got to meet these people.  Deciding to go to Africa was not easy.  You should've seen the pros and cons lists that I made.  I mean, who up and leaves their tiny children for ten days to go across the world to Africa?  It felt insane!  And on top of that, I struggle with anxiety.  So getting on that airplane was not easy.  In fact, on the days leading up to my trip, I called my doctor and asked for a Xanax prescription.  (I wish I was kidding.)  But then when I started to have a panic attack on the plane, I couldn't get myself to take the Xanax because I was afraid that it would make me feel or act crazier, so I just suffered through the anxiety without medication!  (Ummm, hello, serious personal problems!)

When I was recently in the Salt Lake Airport with Ryan I started having flashbacks to how nervous I was the last time I was there, when I was on my way to Africa, and I said to him, "Ryan, I don't ever want to do something like that again.  I am so glad that I did it, but never again.  If I ever go to some far flung region of the earth with complete strangers again, you are coming with me."  Ha!

But it was worth it.  It was so worth it to go and meet those people, both the other volunteers, the South African leaders of Take Action Ministry, and the local leaders like Gogo, Mokgadi, and Pastor Norman.  They changed me and taught me so much.

I will never forget on one of our last days, we were all meeting together and Crystal asked the leaders of Take Action--Wanda, Annelien, Jonna, and Darrin--how we could pray for them individually.  It was such a personal even sacred question, and she had no hesitation asking it.  Then they each shared their hearts with us, told us about their struggles and their fears, the ways that their ministry was impacting their families, their hopes and dreams.  And we gathered around them and joined hands and put our hands on their shoulders and took turns praying for them.

It was incredible.  I have never been part of a prayer like that.  It was the embodiment of true community.  Why don't we pray for our family and friends like that more often?  I think we often feel the desire to show our support in such heartfelt ways--but we are afraid.  We are afraid to go there--to open our hearts to each other in such vulnerable and true ways.  Being in Africa, I felt a part of my heart open up.  And it felt scary but also so right.

Coming home was so good.  I wrapped my arms around my babies and held them so close.  My heart was so ready for them.  I was different, and I knew it.  I wasn't sure I could hold on to the ways that I had changed, but I desperately wanted to.

I brought home a little African dress for Sal, and she looks so precious in it!

In the months since I've been home, I have to be honest and say that I've mostly gone back to the way I was before--life has a way of doing that to you--but I still feel a little chamber in my heart opening up in a way that it wasn't before.  I feel it pulling at me, asking me to slow down and listen.  And I feel like 2017 is the time to make that happen.

So here's to a more vulnerable new year.  Here's to reaching into the hearts of my loved ones and pulling out prayers, putting my hands on their shoulders and bowing my head and sincerely pleading for them and with them.  Here's to coming to know God in a way that I haven't before, listening to Him and hearing Him and asking about His will for my life, instead of just plowing forward with my own plans.

I end 2016 on my knees--a little defeated, a lot exhausted, but mostly just very ready for whatever change God has in store for me and my heart.

A Letter to Noah for his Birthparents' Wedding

  

Dear Noah,

A few weeks ago, I watched as you walked down the aisle at your birthparents’ wedding.  You were wearing a little gray suit and a navy bowtie, looking handsome and perfect, so grown up and so tiny all at once.

You walked tentatively between the flower girls, Katie’s youngest sisters.  They are a few years older than you, and you looked up at them for guidance and approval as you clutched your little brown ring box and made your way slowly down the strip of grass that had been cleared for the occasion.  You smiled contentedly, a little shyly, as you walked along, happy to be included in something that you sensed was an important moment in the lives of many people whom you love.

Then you came to sit next to me, and I wrapped my arm around you as we listened to Katie and Drew’s wedding vows. I felt peace, deep peace burning in my heart—a swelling of gratitude, of awe, of miraculous love that transforms lives.

When you heard your name mentioned in the vows, you turned toward me with wide eyes and an even wider grin—surprised, thrilled.  Drew said to Katie, “On the night Noah was born, I was amazed by your strength, and I knew that we could get through anything together.”

It felt right, somehow, hearing your name spoken in their wedding vows.  You have been a key part of their love story—perhaps the real beginning of their love story.  I can’t speak for Katie and Drew, but it seems to me that what might have been teenage infatuation before you came into the picture turned into real, deep, unconditional, painful love as soon as they discovered that you were on your way.

They had to make agonizing decisions, they had to grow up, they had to support each other.  I remember those months just before and just after you were born—and as is the case in every love story, Katie and Drew had to fight for their love.  There were times when they disappointed each other, and there were times when they clung to each other. They learned then what it means to sacrifice for love.

And at the center of it all was a tiny baby whom they loved fiercely and whom they have loved every moment since.

That baby is you, Noah.

When they first asked if you could be the ringbearer in their wedding, I wasn’t sure what to think.  Was that too much pressure for you?  Would it be hard for you someday when you understand more clearly what adoption is?  Would it be awkward for the guests in attendance at the wedding?  Are you too much a symbol of their past when that day should be more focused on their future?

And what about the fact that Katie and Drew were getting married at all?  It’s an unusual situation in the adoption world, and it does bring up questions for everyone involved. Will you feel sad that they didn’t marry younger and decide to parent you?  Will they grieve that decision as well?  How will it feel for you to know your full-blooded biological siblings, the children that Katie and Drew will have together?  Will you resent that you are in our family instead of theirs?

These are hard questions to consider, and I openly admit that I don’t know the answers.  You will probably have lots of feelings about your adoption in your lifetime, and that is okay. Whatever you feel about it at any given point is totally fine. Adoption can be complicated, just like love can be complicated.  But despite all the questions, there are a few things that I have come to know over the past four years, and I want to share them with you, so you never wonder and you never forget.

I do know that Katie and Drew made their decision to place you for adoption out of love for you.  Being as young as they were, they didn’t know yet if they would marry, and they wanted you to have a mom and a dad, stability and siblings—an eternal family.  I saw the tears that poured from their eyes when they handed you to us in that hospital room just over four years ago.  I saw their hearts breaking.  I felt the Spirit of God that enveloped all of us and testified that this incomprehensible act of love was holy.

I do know that I feel to my very core, to the depths of my soul, that you are part of me and always have been.  You are mine.  I don’t mean that in a way that is possessive or diminishes the role of your birthparents in any way.  I mean that in a way that is sacred, that comes from a knowledge that is so deep within me that it’s hard to even verbalize.

You belong, Noah.  You belong with me and Dad and Sally.  I don’t know how that works in the grand scheme of biological vs. adopted, agency vs. predestination—I don’t have all of those answers.  What I do have is a quiet, firm, unmistakable peace that washes over me anytime I start to worry about the complex situations that are involved with adoption.  A voice inside of me, a voice from our Father in Heaven, says, “I am in control, Rachel, not you.  I love you, I love Ryan, I love Noah, I love Katie, I love Drew—and I have never let any of you down.  I work things together for good.  You don’t need to worry; you just need to trust.”

Which leads to the most important knowledge that I want to share with you, Noah: I do know that God is aware of us.  He has guided every step of this journey, and He will continue to do so.  I don’t question that anymore, and that alone gives me the assurance to press forward as new situations arise in your adoption story.

There were times early on that I felt consumed with worry. When Katie was openly and understandably grieving in that first year after you were born, I felt so many emotions—devastation and heartbreak for her, defensiveness and insecurity for me, confusion and anxiety for what that meant for your future.  Many people advised me to pull away from her a little, to close the adoption somewhat, for all of our sake.  But I just didn’t feel right about that. And when I prayed, I felt like Heavenly Father told me to show more love, more openness, not less.

He was right.  He is always right.  And the most beautiful relationship has developed between us and your birthparents in the years since.  It does not feel awkward; it does not feel forced; it does not feel competitive—

It feels like a gift. It feels miraculous. It feels sacred.  It will be one of the greatest blessings of my life to have experienced this kind of love.

I want you to know, Noah, that prayers throughout my life have not always been answered so directly—in fact, in every other area of my life, I have had to learn to wait for wisdom from our Father in Heaven, which generally comes little by little over months and years.  Even before you were born, as we waded through multiple adoption opportunities that didn’t work out, I usually didn’t have clear answers—I just proceeded in patience and faith.

But ever since I held you in my arms, questions about how to navigate open adoption have been answered very directly and almost immediately.  It has been astonishing and humbling to experience, and it has reinforced how much God cares about you.  He has granted me divine inspiration in my role as your adoptive mother that He has not granted me in other areas of my life.  I am grateful beyond words for that blessing, as it has brought peace to situations that might otherwise have been difficult or sensitive.

I feel like He has granted you this kind of insight and inspiration as well, even at your young age.  A few months ago, a friend of mine was surprised to find out that you know your birthparents.  “Does he know what that means?” she asked, a little incredulous. “Well, I have explained adoption to him,” I said, “but he’s only three-years-old, so it’s hard to know what he’s really grasping.”  Then I paused and decided, “Why don’t we just ask him?”<

You were playing nearby on the floor, and I said, “Noah, what does it mean that Katie and Drew are your birthparents?”

You straightened up from your Lego train and thought for a moment, and then you said matter-of-factly, “A long time ago, Mom's body was sick. So Heavenly Father sent Katie to us, and she helped me get to my family.  And that’s called adoption.”

The room was completely silent for a moment as my friend and I absorbed your answer, stunned.  That wisdom did not come from me, Noah.  I never could’ve described adoption so well.  Ever since you were tiny, I explained it to you the best that I could, and then Heavenly Father helped you to put the pieces together in your little mind and testified to you that you are where you belong.  That Katie and Drew were a gift to us.  That this has all been one huge, inexplicable, remarkable miracle.

Heavenly Father has done what He promises—He has worked things together for good.

 

Noah, I want you to know that as you approached Katie and Drew with the little ring box on their wedding day, it felt so right.  All of the questions that I’d had about whether or not it was appropriate to have you as their ringbearer just faded away.  Your adoption story is one of the rare occurrences in life when it is so obvious, so visible, that love has come full circle: where one act of love has lead to another, which has lead to another, which has lead to another—and it will continue on into eternity.

There is no end to love, Noah.  And as I watched Katie and Drew take each other by the hand as husband and wife, I thought of two seventeen-year-old kids in a hospital room in the middle of the night.  I saw them cradling a newborn baby—kissing you and marveling over you, rejoicing in a new life that had been born to bless us all.

I thank God for those kids who have become adults—who showed me four years ago what true love is, and who have been showing me ever since.

Thank God for miracles, thank God for happily ever after.

And thank God for you, Noah, and all the love that you have taught us.

With gratitude and awe,

Your Mama

 

"Being Old and Full of Days"

I am on the cusp of a new week.  Sunday night, the night when I sit down and look at the week ahead and make a "plan."  I always feel a little overwhelmed when I think about all the things I need to/would like to accomplish in the coming days, and yet I don't really know why.  Most of what I do doesn't have set deadlines.  

I think feeling overwhelmed is just part of my nature, but it's something that I consciously try to change about myself every single day.  I have always dreamed of being someone who is relaxed, spontaneous, present, and carefree--someone who is not busy and who people know they can call on a whim if they want to hang out or if they need to talk.  I am making progress on this goal, as I constantly try to simplify my life, say no to commitments that will make me stressed, and manage my time better.  But it's a work in progress.  I'm a work in progress.

In high school, I noticed that one of my best friends was starting to distance herself from me, and when I asked her why, she said, "Oh you're just so busy.  I don't want to be one more thing you have to fit in."  A little hurt, I responded, "But I would always make time for you!!"  I will never forget her response.  She looked at me seriously and, without an ounce of malice, said, "Rachel, no one wants to feel like their best friend is 'making time' for them."

I have never forgotten her words, and they are so so SO true.  So I am working on this.  

I want more than anything to be present with my kids.  I don't want to waste their baby years checking things off my to-do list.  I never want them to look back and feel like I simply squeezed them in between cleaning and projects and to-dos.  I recently heard a sermon in which a busy, young, wise mother was quoted as saying, "Motherhood is not a hobby, it is a calling.  You do not collect children because you find them cuter than stamps.  It is not something to do if you can squeeze the time in.  It is what God gave you time for."

That last line has stayed with me, and I have thought of it often.  Motherhood is what God gave me time for.  

My days with the kids are simple and sometimes frustrating, but I have been praying lately that God will give me "eyes to see" the beauty in this current stage of my life--to see beyond the surface and to recognize the gifts underneath.  As I look around my house and see train tracks scattered across the floor and dirty baby bottles lining the kitchen counter, I try to see the blessings instead of the mess--the blessing of having a creative, active, thriving little boy underfoot and a snuggly, hungry, healthy baby girl in my arms.   

These days are precious.  They are also repetitive and mundane, but they are all pieces of the mosaic that will become my life--and they are pieces of the mosaic that will become my children's lives.

I have spent a lot of time lately thinking about who I am, who I have been, and who I want to be.  Sometimes I miss the "old Rachel" who adventured across the world and had endless energy to accomplish anything and everything (did I really start an international volunteer program while in the midst of my first year of teaching when I had 207 students??  WHO WAS THAT GIRL?!?!).  Sometimes I can't figure out how to reconcile the girl that I used to be with the girl that I am now--and yet I know in my heart that I am the same person with the same core beliefs, values, and characteristics.  How can I honor what has been and never forget it, while also honoring what is and what will be?

It was in that mindset that I recently discovered the last verse in the book of Job, and it has been a long time since a verse of scripture has spoken to me so directly.  As the final words to the story of an amazing life, the Bible simply says, "And Job died, being old and full of days."  

Understanding flooded over me as I read and reread those last few words: "Being old and full of days."  Each day of my life builds on the last.  I am full of days.  Each experience, each trial, each adventure, each joy, each sorrow, each friendship, each bedtime story read to Noah, each lullaby sung to Sally, each conversation snuggled up with Ryan--they become part of my foundation, they are still part of who I am.  

This image makes me happy--the idea of being full of days.  It gives me peace.  It helps me to cherish these routine moments at home with my kids, these days that are adding to the breadth of who I am becoming.  

A wild-haired Noah eating yogurt and watching a show.

A wiggly Sally, climbing all over her Daddy (who is always and forever reading a book).  

A messy house, full of the evidence of Noah's current favorites: trains and forts.  

Date nights with Ryan, holding hands and walking the trail at the bottom of the canyon as we discuss our children, his career, our hopes and dreams, our future.

These are the moments that I want to be full of when I reach the end of my lifetime.  This is who I want to be.  

Tonight as I head to bed, readying myself for the new week ahead, I am feeling comforted in the knowledge that nothing is ever lost.  Days build upon days, and moments build upon moments--the good and the bad, the ups and the downs--they all count, they all make me who I am.  

And when I die, I, like Job, will be old--and full to the brim with a lifetime of remembered and forgotten, meaningful and mundane, simple yet profound, days.  

Walking on Water

Today is Easter, and I have been thinking about Christ all month.  I am somewhat amazed that the Easter traditions and activities that I planned to do with the kids this week actually worked out (!!!), and it was a spiritual, fun, peaceful week of learning for all of us.  I love when I am able to teach Noah about the things that matter most to me.

About a month ago, I admitted on this blog that I was feeling burned out as a mother. The constant cycle of cleaning, diapering, meal-making, picking up, disciplining, dressing—it had just started to wear on me.  The day after day after day of the same mundane tasks, the constant effort to be patient, the helping get shoes on, the whining whining whining…I was suddenly just over it. 

I think this is normal, and I think all parents go through weeks of feeling especially worn out and frustrated—and then somehow, and sometimes without apparent reason, the fog lifts and life seems manageable again.

But one of the things that was weighing on me the most during that week or two of feeling utterly depleted was that I didn’t see an end-in-sight.  I thought, “Is this really what I have to look forward to for the next decade?  Being a stay-at-home mom and cleaning up messes for whining children?  I used to go to work and do something that I knew I was good at.  I used to feel accomplished and successful at the end of the day.  Now it’s impossible to measure how I am doing, and I just feel exhausted at the end of the day.  Do I really have to do all of this again tomorrow?”

Fortunately, my perspective changed one afternoon as I was reading Noah a book before his quiet time.  He had requested the Bible Stories book, and as I read to him about Peter walking on the water toward Jesus (Matthew 14:25-32), Noah asked me, “Why did he start to sink, Mama?”

Not thinking much of it, I said, “Because he stopped believing he could do it.  He took his eyes off of Jesus.  He looked around at the stormy waters and the wind, and he thought, ‘What am I doing??’ and he got discouraged and fearful, and he started to sink.”

All of the sudden, the words I was saying registered.  And I knew that there was probably a reason we had opened the book to that particular Bible story that afternoon.<

I was like Peter.  I had taken my eyes off the Savior.  I had forgotten that these children of mine are a divine blessing from him, that my role as their mother is sacred.  When I had looked around at the storm and all of the challenges of motherhood, I’d started to sink.

This story can be universally applicable, I think.  We all have struggles and challenges of various types and degrees that leave us wondering, “Can I really do this?  Can I defy this storm and stay afloat another day?”

Yes.  Yes you can.  If you keep your eyes on the Savior, you can accomplish miracles and do things you would never imagine—things you could never hope to do without His help.  Doesn't mean it will always be easy, doesn't mean you will never feel discouraged; but it does mean that you will be able to make it through one more day if you simply keep your eyes on Him.

Snuggling Noah close, I read him the rest of that Bible story—how Peter called out to Jesus and He reached out His hand and pulled Peter back up to safety.  Something in my heart told me that I could do the same.  I could ask Christ to help me out of the pit of discouragement I was feeling.  I could reach out to Him, and He would be there to save me.

I am grateful beyond words for Him.  I am grateful that He loved me—me!—enough to suffer for my sins and my sorrows in the Garden of Gethsemane, to be tortured and then killed on the cross. I am infinitely grateful for His Resurrection, which means that I will get to be with Him again, with my mother again, with everyone whom I love on this earth again.

He bore my griefs and He knows how to comfort and lift me in the midst of my sorrows—even the small ones, such as a discouraging week as a mother.  I have felt a difference this Easter season as I have turned to Him and kept my eyes on Him—and as I’ve tried to teach my family to do the same.

"Thanks be to God for His unspeakable, unspeakable, gift."   2 Corinthians 9:15 

Easter Traditions for Preschoolers (and their grumpy mamas)

Easter Week is here, and it's a good thing--because I have been super grumpy lately!  I am looking forward to this week of fun, spring, peace, and Jesus.

For a few years now I've wanted to do some simple, spiritual Easter traditions and lessons with Noah, but I just haven't found/made the time.  (Plus I was pregnant and super sick last year, so I get a pass, right?)  There are so many great ideas on the Internet for spiritual Easter fun with kids--I just needed to take an hour to click around and make a plan.

So I did it on Friday.  And the irony wasn't lost on me that I was incredibly crabby with Noah as I was doing it.  (I think Mom may need these lessons about Christ's life much more than Noah.)

I thought I would share my ideas (which are not actually my ideas because I found them all online, mostly here and here) on this blog, so if some mom out there reading this doesn't have an hour to click around on the Internet, she can just take my list and go with it. You can do these activities/discussions in any order, and they don't have to be elaborate.

I want to give this disclaimer, though, about my Easter traditions:

I was going to start on Saturday with a visit to the beautiful grounds of our temple here in Twin Falls and a discussion about how Christ cleansed the temple in Jerusalem and how we can feel close to Christ in the temple--but Saturday was a crazy day and it didn't happen, so I decided we would start on Sunday.

And then yesterday, we were going to walk to church and gather blooming spring branches for an "Easter tree"and come home and find our favorite pictures of Christ online and print and laminate them and hang them on our Easter tree--but that didn't happen either.  You see, I insisted on taking some photos of the kids before we left for church, and this is how that turned out:

 

And of course because of my (very successful) photo shoot, we cut it too close on time and couldn't walk to church, and when we got home I had to rush to a pharmacy to get some penicillin because, lo and behold, I contracted strep throat AGAIN and all of the pharmacies close early on Sundays, and by the time we'd had dinner, there was no time for Easter tree, so we cleaned up and got the kids to bed and then collapsed in our bed and wasted time surfing Facebook.

So.  All that to say that your Easter traditions don't have to be perfect, so don't stress or get mad at yourself if these activities don't happen according to plan (or happen at all).  This is real life we are talking about.  And real life is messy and busy and unpredictable.

Okay, so here are a few ideas that I plan to make happen this week:

Easter Walk

Tonight for Family Night we are going to start our Easter Week (so help me!), and we will kick it off with an Easter Walk.  (I got this idea here.) You read the clue from the scriptures, and then each child has to run and find an object to match.  If you can't keep the attention span of the little ones long enough to read the actual verse, you can also just tell them about each part of the crucifixion and resurrection story in your own words.  Here are the clues:

Clue 1: Mark 15:17 - Find something pointed and sharp to represent the crown of thorns.

Clue 2: John 19:17-18 - Find something made of wood to represent the cross.

Clue 3: Luke 23:46 - Find something dead to represent the Savior's death.

Clue 4: Luke 23: 44-45 (Bible), 3 Nephi 8:23 (Book of Mormon) - Find something dark to represent the darkness in Jerusalem and in America.

Clue 5: Mark 15:46 - Find something hard and round to represent the stone placed in front of the tomb.

Clue 6: Matthew 28:5-6 - Find something alive to represent that Jesus Christ is alive again.

Washing Feet

One day this week, we will talk about how Christ's whole life was about service, and then we will wash each other's feet in a soapy basin, like Christ washed his disciples feet at the Last Supper. We will sing the Primary song "I'm Trying to Be Like Jesus" as we do it. :) We will also watch this short animated depiction of Christ's act of service.  As corny as the video is, I just know Noah will be completely glued to it, and, hey, it gets the message across.

Last Supper

One night we will have a very simple version of the "Last Supper."  (Maybe Thursday night since that is when it happened during the first Holy Week?)  We will have pitas, cheese, and grape juice--maybe some lentil soup because I actually have some frozen.  (Score!)   We will talk about how Christ instituted the Sacrament and what the bread and wine (or for us Mormons, water) represent.  We will talk about how we can be more reverent during the Sacrament each week at church, as we remember Jesus and what He has done for us.  Maybe I will even set a Biblical-looking table for dinner that night.

Atonement, Crucifixion, Ressurection

This will be the heavy doctrinal day, but we will try to keep it simple.  We will briefly explain each of these key events in the Easter story, and then we will watch these sacred events depicted in videos that will help Noah visualize.  We will explain what is happening as we watch:
            -Garden of Gethsemane video (we will probably start about 4-5 minutes into the video because it's long for a three year old)
            -Crucifixion video (we will start about a minute into the video because I don't want Noah to see the entirety of the scourging scene--painful to watch)
            -Jesus in the Tomb video (we will watch until about 2 mins--when the angel tosses the stone-- because it's long)
            -Resurrection video

**Someday I would like to do more with the Garden of Gethsemane--perhaps take him on a hike  and then talk about the significance of the Atonement and repentance, but he is too young now to grasp the significance of that sacred, infinite act.  I'd also like to teach him this beautiful children's song--maybe next year.

Visiting a Cemetery 

We might make a visit to a cemetery and talk about how the grave has no power over us because of Christ's resurrection.  If we were living in Colorado, I would totally take the kids to the cemetery where my mom is buried to have this discussion.  We might even let go of some Easter-colored balloons to send up to her in heaven.  (Maybe I should still do this here in Idaho?)  If we were living in Buffalo, I would totally do an Easter egg hunt in Forest Lawn Cemetery--which may sound morbid, but honestly you have not lived until you have walked the grounds of that insanely spectacular cemetery.  This cemetery visit would be fun to do on actual Easter morning if the weather is cooperating.

Easter Vigils: Lanterns, Luminaries, Sky lanterns

Saturday night, we will have some sort of "Easter Vigil" on Easter Eve.  We might make these darling Easter lanterns, but I don't think our tree is sturdy enough to hold them, so maybe we will just use the luminaries we have left over from Christmas or even the sky lanterns!  That would be awesome if it's not windy.  We will discuss how Christ is the Light of the World (perhaps using Mosiah 15:9?), and we will go to bed with our lanterns burning bright, waiting for Easter morning to come.

Easter Day Fun

Sunday morning we will wake to some awesome religious music like the Hallelujah chorus and special Easter hymns.  We will watch this seven-minute video which beautifully depicts the entirety of Holy Week and hopefully will recap and tie things together for Noah.

Then we will have a yummy breakfast (maybe this ah-mazing coffee cake with fruit and hardboiled eggs?), and then we will watch our church's annual General Conference. It will have some beautiful, inspiring sermons, if anyone is interested!   (General Conference is the first Sunday of October and the first Sunday of April--it just so happens to be Easter weekend this year.)

I'm sure we will have Easter baskets and an Easter egg hunt that day, and I'd also like to deliver some springy flowers (daffodils? tulips?) to our neighbors.  We have several new neighbors whom we haven't met, and it's about time!

With Easter dinner (and who knows what we will make for that--we aren't exactly gourmet chefs around here), we may have some simple symbolic foods along with our main course.  I'm not going to do a full-out Seder dinner like this post recommends, but I may pull a few of the ideas from it and use it.

Who knows what else this week will hold!  I will try to make it special for our family.  And if all havoc breaks loose and it's not as peaceful as I'm imagining, I will not get crabby with my children.  And if I do get crabby with my children, I will repent and think about Jesus.

Happy Easter Week, Friends!  I hope you have some special moments with your families!

Christmas Spirit

A few years ago, I started compiling a list of ways to manage the stress of the holidays and the pressure to be "in the Christmas spirit" all December long.  It can sometimes put me in a really depressed mood that I am "not doing enough" to engage in this month-long holiday because it really is such a special time of year, and I want to savor it and make the most of it--but too much pressure to do so can leave me feeling the opposite of the Christmas spirit (frustration, discouragement, inadequacy).  I totally relate to little Cindy Lou Who in How The Grinch Stole Christmas when she sings "Where Are You Christmas?" because sometimes I feel like something is wrong with me when I'm not feeling ultra giddy and magical during the month of December or filling my days with awesome, festive traditions.

I had forgotten my list of ideas for making December less stressful until today, when my Instagram feed starting filling up with photos of moms doing cool things to kick off the month with their kids.  Looking at those cute photos, I started to feel a little panicked that the holidays are already sneaking up on me, and we don't have a Christmas tree yet, and I don't have any fun traditions planned, and Noah is at the perfect age for diving in to the fun of this holiday and I want to make every moment "count," and there are so many people to get gifts for, and...

Do you see where I am going with this?

I stopped myself and remembered my list and went to look at it.  I decided to post it here as a permanent reminder for myself, as well as to solicit advice from all of you.  Please leave your ideas/input in the comments.

I want to start with a disclaimer that this list won't be true for everyone.  This is my "notes to self" about how to make the holidays fun and less stressful for me.  I think it's awesome if you want to do an amazing family activity every day in December.  Please post your ideas on Instagram and elsewhere so I don't have to think up ideas for our family activities and can just copy yours! :)

Okay, so here we go...

Rachel's Notes to Self about Celebrating Christmas

1.  Don't feel like you need to start celebrating the day after Thanksgiving or even December 1st.  You can't maintain "The Christmas Spirit" that long.  It's too much pressure.  It's fine if you wait until 12 days before or one week before to do anything "big" to commemorate the holiday.

2.  That said, in the month leading up to Christmas, do little things to get into the mood.  Talk about Christ as much as possible.  When you are driving around town, point out the Christmas lights to Noah and tell him how cool it is that the whole world is celebrating Jesus during this special month.  Rely on easy traditions that require no work, such as watching a favorite holiday movie each Saturday night as a family or lighting the advent wreath and singing a hymn each Sunday.

3.  On a similar note, do quick things to bring the holiday spirit into your home.  I'm not talking about ultra fancy decorations (which are awesome if you can get to them but not necessary).  Make it a habit to do things like playing Christmas carols and lighting a candle every day during breakfast.  Put up simple decorations--some of which should be focused on Christ and the true meaning of the season.

4.  Shop far in advance (or as far in advance as possible) to avoid last-minute gift-giving stress.  Do not try to make gifts.  You do not enjoy crafts.  You will put off doing them, and it will inevitably take longer than you planned, and you will be hating your life as your decoupage a frame for your in-laws late into the night on Christmas Eve.  (True story.)

5.  Find time to ponder and write about the things that matter most to you.  Set aside fifteen minutes now and then to sit by the lighted Christmas tree after the kids are in bed with a candle burning.  Spend that time writing about Christ, family, your children, your marriage, your blessings or writing thank you notes to those you love. (As a side note, when my older sister read this, she said that writing deep thoughts by the Christmas tree sounded way more pressure-filled to her than spending an afternoon baking sugar cookies!  Bahaha!  I know I am kind of a weirdo.  Do whatever works for you and brings joy and perspective!)

6.  Plan some fun family activities that take a bit more effort--just a few of these are enough.  Perhaps a night decorating gingerbread houses with family, hosting a Progressive Dinner with friends, or lighting luminaries on Christmas Eve.

7.  Actively serve others.  This brings the Spirit of Christmas more than anything else.  Service should obviously be part of your everyday life (whatever month it is) but putting a little more focus on it during December can't hurt! Service doesn't have to be grand--a great idea is this simple "24 Days of Giving."  If you miss a day of service, don't beat up on yourself.

8.  When visiting family for the holidays, focus on being present with those around you.  Focus on serving in small but meaningful ways--jumping up to do the dishes after dinner or engaging in conversation with a quiet relative.  Look around you and notice where there are opportunities to bring joy and relieve stress.

9. Make time for the things that help you maintain sanity in the midst of holiday craziness, including exercise (even just a brisk walk with the family after dinner), conversations with Ryan (even if that means leaving a raucous game night for a few minutes to lie on the bed and talk), and occasional early bed times (nothing leads to meltdowns more quickly than sleep-deprivation).

10.  As much as possible, just be still and let the beauty of this season work its magic.  It's not reliant on you and your fancy traditions.  Stand at the window and watch when snow is falling, or go outside and raise your face to the sky and taste the snowflakes.  Watch the excitement on Noah's face as he points out Christmas decorations in the mall.  Talk to him about Christmas and everything it means.  Snuggle Baby Sally into your chest when you are feeding her in the middle of the night and think about that sacred baby born thousands of years ago in Bethlehem, "born that man no more may die."  Thank Him.  Think of Him.  Let your heart fill with love for Him.

December is a month to love.  I am so excited that it's here.  It's going to be a beautiful, Spirit-filled month with my precious kiddos, my amazing husband, and my wonderful family and friends.  As a wise friend once told me, "Rachel, you are too blessed to be stressed!"  (Thank you, Deborah Tilley!) That is my final note to self as we enter this month of gratitude and giving.  I can't wait!

Sally's Blessing Day

Our little Sally Grace was blessed in church by her daddy on Sunday, September 28th.  She is such a treasure, and it was a beautiful and special day.  Isn't she just a cherub in her little white dress??

I loved all of the sweet little details of her outfit, such as the dainty bracelet made by my Aunt Jackie and the darling booties knit by Ryan's Aunt Tammy.  The beautiful dress was a gift from Grandma Nielson (one of Baby Sally's namesakes), and I love how the sleeves kind of made her look like she had angel wings. :) And in an act of uncharacteristic craftiness, I actually made her headband! (Well, I took a pre-made flower and glued it onto pretty elastic--hey, it's something.)  I hope all of these special little touches from women who love her will mean something to Sally someday.

A lot of family came to celebrate Sally: Bapa came from Colorado; Uncle Derek, Aunt Alli, and Lily came from Utah; and Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Ashley, Baby Lucy (who was only two weeks old), and Great Grandpa Nip came from Pocatello.  Sally is so lucky to be so loved.

Ryan did a beautiful job on the blessing, and I was asked to sing a special musical number about Jesus, "Close Enough to Touch."  I hope Sally will remain close to the Savior throughout her life.

I love baby blessings because a father gets to speak to his child and give him/her sacred counsel and gifts--it's like a prayer but spoken directly to the baby.  He spoke all of the advice that he and I both wish for her and had discussed in the days prior.  I love seeing Ryan prepare for the blessings of our babies--he always takes time before that day to ponder and pray and reflect on the sacred responsibility it is to be a father to such precious spirits.  I love his tender heart and the closeness he feels to God.

In the blessing, Ryan told Sally that she is a gift to our family from Heavenly Father and that we are so grateful to have her in our home.  He told her that she has been such a happy, sweet baby.  He blessed her with a healthy, strong body and mind and encouraged her to always remember the good women in her life--to know and follow their examples.  He explained that she is named "Sally" after both of her Grandmas and she should look to their lives of faith and service and strive to emulate them.  He blessed her to understand the significance of her middle name "Grace," which is the enabling power of the Atonement of Jesus Christ.  It was only through Grace that we were able to bring her into our family, and he promised her that the atoning power of the Savior could help her throughout her life as well.  He told her that when she turns to Him, she will be able to do more than she could ever do on her own.

He encouraged her to understand the Gospel and to seek to live it throughout her life--to follow the commandments, search the scriptures, and lean on the knowledge of God.  He blessed her to be a light--to serve and reach out, lift up and inspire others.  He told her that her purpose is to be happy like Heavenly Father and to feel the power of Goodness in her life.

I loved everything he said, and I hope that Sally chooses to heed his counsel throughout her life.  Obviously, it will be up to her, but we plan to teach her all that we can about God because He has brought us so much peace and happiness.  Just like her brother, Sally is a miracle baby, and we thank God daily for her.  We are so lucky to be the parents of these amazing little people!

Noah's hair was a little pink from the color run he did with his dad the day before :)

Dear Sally Grace,  I am so smitten by you and so grateful to be your mama.  Can you tell by the joy on my face in these photos?  Do you see it in my eyes when I coo over you and talk to you as I change your diaper?  Can you hear it in my voice as I sing to you before bedtime?   Sometimes I say to your Daddy, "Do you think she knows how loved she is?"  I hope you do.  You are such a gift.

Thank you for coming to our family.  Thank you for teaching all of us more about love.  We can't imagine life without you.

Love,
Your Mama