Happy Earth Day (Musings)

The kids and I didn't go on a nature walk or plant vegetables or any such organic activity in honor of Earth Day.  Lucy's been home sick, so besides the several books she's read, it's been technology central around here.  She and Spencer are in the basement watching a movie right now, in fact.  And I'm looking out the back windows at our grass that's dying because our sprinklers need a little TLC (please rain this weekend, please rain this weekend).  But.  If I lift my eyes above the faded, dry grass, the t r e e s in the backyard are at a peak of springtime loveliness.

The little Cinderella Crab we planted for Lucy's baptism...

May 2013

...has been growing about as fast as she has, and it is so beautiful when it blossoms in the spring. 

Grandpa and I chose it for it's white blossoms.  Seemed appropriate for a baptism tree.  What I didn't know was that the blossoms would start out as dark pink, almost red buds...

...and then open into beautiful thick white blooms.  

And that transformation seems even sweeter to me than if the buds were white from the beginning.  Reminds me in such a dramatic way of the beautiful invitation, "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."  Isaiah 1:18

Mom used to quote that scripture so often.  Especially the "come let us reason together" part.  Mom practiced that kind of open door policy in her parenting.  She was always accessible.  I knew I could bring any conversation to her table.  No matter how tough the topic.  I knew she'd always be loving. And that she'd always be honest.  And that no matter how hard the conversation (and I brought some challenging ones her way over the years), our relationship would be stronger for the discussion.  

Lately, I've been trying to make decisions for our family.  And naturally I've been praying about those decisions.  But my prayers have been dominated by the realization that the choices I'm weighing are all good, and that Heavenly Father might not actually care which I choose, and that I probably just need to decide already and go forward.  But it's been hard to decide.  Hard not to have a spouse to consult.  Hard not to have a mom to call twice a day as new considerations play through my brain (although I have the dearest dad and the dearest mother in law who have taken the divided brunt of those calls in Mom's absence).  

But this afternoon, as my mind was ping-ponging between options, I looked out at Lucy's Cinderella Crab covered with scarlet-turning-white blossoms and I remembered that Isaiah invitation - that open door:  "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord."  And so I said yes when Lucy and Spencer asked to watch another movie (Happy Earth Day!) and I spent an extra couple of hours with my scriptures.  

Those hours didn't yield a decision, but they yielded so much love.  And such renewed confidence that while Heavenly Father does indeed ask us to use our agency, to weigh options, to consider ramifications, and to make hard choices - he invites us to do those things at his table.  Where he can nudge us with ideas and wisdom, and remind us of his continued support.

I've spent the past week or so frustrated about not having an easy answer to this particular decision.  But tonight I feel grateful for the process of grappling.  Because I feel like my relationship with God is stronger for the discussion.  And that is, no doubt, why life is so full of difficulties and decisions in the first place.  

A few months ago Lucy was complaining of aches in her knees.  After ruling out several possible concerns, I finally said, "Maybe it's growing pains,"  at which comment Spencer cheerfully chimed in from across the room, "Well, at least you're growin' while you're painin'!"  

Smile.

I'm not sure, though, that the idea of personal growth alone is always worth the pain to me.  But the relationship growth - actually experiencing the way difficulties and decisions help me grow closer to God - that does truly ease the sting of mortal pains.  That strengthened relationship is a tangible enough blessing for me to reign in my murmuring and to redouble my efforts to "reason together," with God, whatever the dilemma - sin or otherwise.  

I'm so glad for the reality of God's availability to us.  

And I'm so grateful for the beauty of the earth today, 

that prompted me to take advantage of his open door.  

I've always loved Moses 6:63 where the Savior states, “All things are created and made to bear record of me,...things which are in the heavens above, and things which are on the earth, and things which are in the earth, and things which are under the earth, both above and beneath: all things bear record of me."

And that seems the very best reason to celebrate this beautiful, remarkable planet - on earth day and  everyday of the year.

Make a Wish...

That's...maybe a third? of the pictures I took at the cemetery last night.  Couldn't help myself.  The beauty was overwhelming.  I'll post the others one of these days.  But first I want to flesh out that story of last year's tumultuous Easter that I alluded to on Sunday.  It still will be very incomplete.  Too many of the details are private treasures.  But it goes something like this:

It was Easter Sunday.  No one had slept a wink.  Wes's condition was plummeting in spite of our family's best efforts and even after a brief hospitalization.  All of our doctors were difficult to reach.  It was Easter Sunday. 

But around 10 o'clock there was a knock on the door.   We weren't expecting anyone.  10 o'clock was right in the middle of our church block.  And it was, after all, Easter Sunday.  But there on the porch were Bishop Clark and Dr. Kendall.  My relief was instant.  I led Dr. Kendall back to Wes's room and she was immediately on the phone getting things done.  After what felt like hours of making medical arrangements, I left the room to track down my neglected children.  What were they up to?   Did they know what was going on?  Were they worried???  I found Spencer asleep, but Lucy was at the kitchen table, chattering happily and trying her very best to copy Bishop Clark's crayola marker masterpiece.    

His

Hers

It was a sight I won't ever forget.  I'm not sure anyone has ever seemed more like the Savior to me than Bishop Clark seemed in that moment, clothed in his Sunday best, sitting next to a five-year-old girl, and surrounded by colored markers. 

There were other quiet visitors that day and other treasured moments.  They are all, likewise, seared into my memory.   A beautiful priesthood blessing.  A beautiful Easter dinner (prepared by the same Dr. Kendall who'd spent hours with us in the afternoon).

And so much more. 

The joy of human love.  Every bit as overwhelming as the beauty of the earth. 

Oh How Lovely

Spring has snuck up in exactly the way I love.  Slowly.  Deliberately.  With quiet conversations, long hours in the windy sunshine, a splash of plum blossoms in the kitchen.

I love it all.  The birds.  The bare trees on the brink of green (or purple or white or pink).  

 

I love the inevitability.  Inevitability that avoids being routine because the symbolism is so deep.  Deeper with each passing year and each difficult life experience. 

       

We had our first spring picnic at the cemetery last week.  (If you call Cadbury eggs a picnic.  I do.)  Lucy read The Friend, I read The Ensign, Spencer ran around wielding sticks.  It was a beautiful afternoon.  The prophet's words were so powerful. 

“We laugh, we cry, we work, we play, we love, we live. And then we die."

But then we live again.  Because of the Savior.  "And that same sociality which exists among us here will exist among us [then], only it will be coupled with eternal glory." (D&C 130:2) 

And I'm glad for that.  Because I really love all this laughing, crying, working, playing, loving, living business.  I really love all the people who do those things with me.  

Lucy and Spencer and I spent the bulk of last Saturday in the backyard. I held Spencer for a long time on the swing set, but later, when he was busy with a little friend, I persuaded Lucy up onto my lap.  It's been years, probably, since I held that girl on a swing.  We laughed and laughed and talked and talked. 

"Which is your favorite season, Mom?"  she asked among a million other questions.  "That's always been a hard question for me to answer!"  I confessed.  We talked together, in simple terms, about the colorful, intentional beauty of fall - a reminder that there is beauty even in death, if we know the Creator's plan.  We talked about the cheerful, budding beauty of spring - a reminder of Christ's resurrection and our hope of redemption and immortality.  We decided together that we love living in a place where seasons come and go, filling our senses with gratitude for God, our Eternal Father, and for his Son, our Savior.  

MMMmmmmm.

I'm going to try to actually blog over the next couple of weeks.
So see you soon.
And h a p p y  s p r i n g.

The Flowers Today

Oh, give us pleasure in the flowers today;

And give us not to think so far away

As the uncertain harvest; keep us here

All simply in the springing of the year.

A Prayer in Spring, by Robert Frost

My feelings about this time of year and it's crowning Easter Day run deep. They're not really recordable. But I occasionally have the urge to try.

Last week Wes began his new cancer treatment. Four hours every other week will be an improvement over the previous months of eight hours every week. And he came home feeling pretty good. Only several slurred sentences gave away the fatigue. I love him.

And I love our children. And as we welcomed Spring together with an early Easter celebration last Monday night, as we laughed and romped and ran together (Lucy in her springtime gown and crown), I couldn't help a silent, sincere recitation of Frost's springtime prayer:

"Keep us here
All simply in the springing of the year"

But later that evening, after the chilly March breeze drove us indoors to open each of the eggs we'd collected and to discussed the corresponding segments of the Easter story (bless you Amy & Jeanine for that beautiful idea last year - we LOVED IT), I realized again:

The ultimate harvest is not uncertain.
Because "He is Risen."
And were it not for that reality, there would be little pleasure in today's flowers and there would be no peace in tomorrow's unknown.

But there is pleasure and there is peace. And we are CELEBRATING. Trying to soak up the symbolism of springtime. Trying to teach our children. Because we want them to know.

Tonight's FHE: an Easter walk (haven't read the book, but love the idea)
Still looking for a copy of this.
Thought these illustrations were nicer than many I've seen and that the writing was well done.
Am waiting anxiously for this to arrive in the mail (so glad for my friend Michelle's recommendation a couple of years ago! Spencer and Lucy will both like this one!)
Any other good recommendations?
HAPPY CELEBRATING!!

"The World Itself Keeps Easter Day"

I didn't enter - because I couldn't decide!

Clusters of Crocus?

Popcorn popping?



My daughter trailing my dad through the garden (the way I did as a girl), scrutinizing all the signs of new life?

Spring sunshine slowly turning brown grass green, glowing between the shadows of still-bare branches (always reminds me of stained glass windows. Wes tells me he can't see it.)?

I think I was most tempted to submit this exchange of spring treasures:

(I'm in the middle of writing a picture book about this so delightful spring evening in Grandpa's backyard. It's called Through the Fence. Ok, I'm not. But someday...)

Oh, and what about the blossom castle Lucy lovingly created last year as a haven for fairies?



What about that?

I just really couldn't choose!
But there are some gorgeous choices! Go vote!

The world itself keeps Easter Day;
And Easter Larks are singing
And Easter Flowers are blooming
And Easter buds are springing
ALLELUIA, ALLELUIA
John M. Neale

It's Official.

Spring, that is.

Which means the laundry has to wait awhile.

Because we have things to do.

Important things.

                 

             

Happy Spring!!