Independence? Day

At long last. (Some afternoon mid-January, without anyone mentioning summertime or July or fireworks, Spencer suddenly demanded, "When IS the 4th of July?!!  I've been waiting years!!!!" =)

We love this very most sentimental of holidays.  

I always cry when we get to Provo, the kids always cry when we leave.  

I'll try to get some of the details down in other posts.  But yesterday as I was working outside, refelcting on the Fourth, the phrase "Independence Day" floated through my mind.  Instead of evoking poignant or patriotic thoughts, the words made me laugh out loud.  "Independent" is anything but an accurate description of my life!

Over the Fourth, my phone was constantly abuzz with "thinking of you today" messages.  So much love and support.  Which my heart so much appreciates.

And text messages are just the tip of the iceberg.

Should we talk about how my parents made the two hour round trip drive to Payson nearly every week during this past school year, to pick up my kids after school while I attended teacher meetings?  Every Wednesday morning Spencer would blink his eyes a few times, and then roll over with a huge smile. "It's Grandma and Grandpa day!"  he'd whisper with the anticipation of Christmas in his voice.  The "Grandma and Grandpa day" routine, I was told, went something like: doughnut holes on the drive home from school, a loop around the temple to check it's weekly progress, a cheerful little homework session, and then playing, playing, playing.  And while the kids played, Grandma was busy doing my laundry and making my bed, and cooking dinner, while Grandpa mowed the lawn, or sprayed weeds...etc, etc, so forth.

I tried to independently assert that they could stop coming any time.  But they didn't stop coming.  And it really humbles me to wonder whether or not I'd have made it through that crazy intense year without "Grandma and Grandpa day" every week.

And then, even when school was out, there were all my Truman siblings texting to see if they could drive Spencer and Lucy to Las Vegas for a week of cousin fun so I could get something done?
Well...I guess.

Just a drop in the bucket of ways Wes's family helps us, really.  Like this Wednesday when I tried to invite my newly-moved-to-SL nieces and nephews over to play so their mom could clean, or unpack, or have a nap, but Marci came, and stayed, and helped me overhaul my garage instead.  Riiiiight.

Silly cousins =)

Maybe we should talk about how my sister manages to always sneak my kids away to get me a Mother's Day gift.

Or how sometime mid-June I found this little love note on the shelf of my garage.

And I'm sure I will feel a sincere surge of independence every time my dad comes to help me use it. =)  In addition to that "Father's Day" gift, Ryan has saved my AC unit from demise on several occasions because he's the only one who ever remembers to change the filter.

Hmmm.  Should I backtrack to the winter and write about how my friend Janna, after a hellish year battling her own leukemia diagnosis immediately following the birth of her fourth child, sent her parents to my house with a few bags full of Trader Joe's freezer meals?  To make our school days a little less chaotic, she hoped.

Tonight Spencer went up the canyon for his first Fathers and Sons dinner.  My good home teacher invited him to come along with the sons and grandsons in their family, and Spencer has been beside himself with anticipation all week.

Even Lucy was a little savior to me a few nights ago when she voluntarily brought over some lotion to rub over the hives that have been appearing and disappearing on my back all week.  It honestly brought me a few tears to feel her tender little hands trying to gently sooth my discomfort.

It's certainly impossible to completely document the way my life leans and depends on so many.  But I want to express my gratitude.  And acknowledge that as much as I have a testimony of the Savior, and of the Restoration, and of tithing, and of temples, I have a testimony of the principle of Zion.  That being "of one heart and one mind"  means, in part, this beautiful process of depending on each other.  In all the small and simple (as well as the noble and great) ways that bring sunshine to our souls (wink, Jeanine) and that make such a huge cumulative difference our lives.

Above all I need to record my gratitude for our reliable, accessible, trustworthy, and truly loving Father in Heaven.  Because over these three years since Wes's death, I have learned over and over again how dependent I am on Him.

I wanted to mow the lawn the morning we left for Provo to celebrate the Fourth. Grandma Bert's trusty little push mower wouldn't start for me, so I pulled out the other mower dad recently brought down...supposedly some kind of fancy "self-propelled" whatever.  Dad said I should use it - that it would be so much easier.  I figured I'd try it out someday.  In the meantime, the old mower was running fine (meaning:  I already knew how to start it).  But Mower A wouldn't start that morning, so I was forced to pull out Mower B.  After several awkward minutes trying to start the new-to-me machine, I finally succeeded, and settled into the warm, steady business of mowing the lawn.  I quite enjoy mowing these days, but I remember thinking after about ten minutes that morning, "I don't know what Dad's talking about.  This is not any easier than the other mower."  And after about twenty minutes I was pretty sure that it was even harder than the old mower.  Whatever, I thought.   Good exercise.

And then, just before turning the last switchback of the front lawn, my thumb knocked into the thin bar below the mower's main handle.  "I wonder what this is,"  I thought.  I gingerly brought the bar up to meet the main handle and, whoa!  The mower ran away with me hanging on for dear life.  =)

Needless to say, mowing the back lawn that morning was like a walk in the park.  Same terrain as always, but with the added ease of so much extra power.

The life lesson from that experience hardly needs pointing out.  I'm truly grateful to have access to a power so much greater than my own physical and emotional strength.  I'm grateful that in my weaknesses and insecurities, I can invite the Lord to lift and propel me forward.

There's a tiny phrase in the Book of Mormon that I've always loved and that seems relevant.  It comes just before the Lord gives Nephi the sealing power in the book of Helaman.  After a few verses of praising Nephi's "unwearyingness" in keeping the commandments, the Lord promises to make him "mighty in word and in deed, in faith and in works." And then comes the little phrase I love: 

"Behold, thou art Nephi, and I am God."  

The juxtaposition there is obvious and, depending on my circumstances serves to remind me,"My ways are higher than your ways," or to reassure me,  "Fear not, I am with thee."

"Behold, thou art Nephi, and I am God."  

I also love that the Lord uses "and" instead of "but."   For me it suggests such partnership.  It seems to be both a recognition and appreciation of Nephi's individuality and strengths as well as a reassurance of divine help.    

That simple, meaningful phrase  runs soothingly through my mind sometimes, when I'm feeling frantic about life decisions or endless task lists.  It helps me remember that my small contributions are seen and valued by God and also reminds me not to forget: He is God.  Wise, capable, trustworthy, loving.

Utterly dependable.