Musings on Life and Beauty Archives - Page 48 of 146

Joy, week 4 revisited

January 30, 2012 jennifer JOY in 2012, Musings on Life and Beauty

I have received some emails today inquiring after my reference yesterday to the phrase, “don’t look ahead to the pain.” The original quote comes from a book called Lone Survivor , which I have not read, but have heard great reviews from people I know who have read it.

My association with the phrase comes from a speech given a year ago by D. Todd Christofferson which influenced me deeply when I first heard it. I listened to it again and again, then printed it and read it several times. I have learned a lot about receiving my daily bread from the Lord, a lesson begun by this message.

For your convenience, I share the passage I was referring to below. If you want to read the entire speech, which I highly recommend, you can find it here .

Elder Christofferson’s words:

“Asking God for our daily bread, rather than our weekly, monthly, or yearly bread, is also a way to focus us on the smaller, more manageable bits of a problem. To deal with something very big, we may need to work at it in small, daily bites. Sometimes all we can handle is one day (or even just part of one day) at a time. Let me give you a nonscriptural example.

“A book I read recently, titled Lone Survivor, recounts the tragic story of a four-man team of U.S. Navy SEALs on a covert mission in a remote sector of Afghanistan five and one-half years ago. When they were inadvertently discovered by shepherds—two men and a boy—these specially trained Navy servicemen had a choice either to kill the two or let them go, knowing that if they let them live they would disclose the team’s location and they would be attacked immediately by al Qaeda and Taliban forces. Nevertheless, they let the innocent shepherds go, and in the firefight that followed, only the author, Marcus Luttrell, survived against well over 100 attackers.

“In his book, Luttrell recounts the extreme training and endurance required for one to qualify as a SEAL in the U.S. Navy. In Luttrell’s training group, for example, of the 164 men who began, only 32 managed to complete the course. They endured weeks of near-constant physical exertion, in and out of cold ocean water, swimming, paddling and carrying inflatable boats, running in sand, doing hundreds of push-ups a day, carrying logs through obstacle courses, and so forth. They were in a near-perpetual state of exhaustion.

“I was impressed by something a senior officer said to the group as they began the final and most demanding phase of their training.

“First of all,” he said, “I do not want you to give in to the pressure of the moment. Whenever you’re hurting bad, just hang in there. Finish the day. Then, if you’re still feeling bad, think about it long and hard before you decide to quit. Second, take it one day at a time. One [phase] at a time.

“Don’t let your thoughts run away with you, don’t start planning to bail out because you’re worried about the future and how much you can take. Don’t look ahead to the pain. Just get through the day, and there’s a wonderful career ahead of you.”

1 “Generally it is good to try to anticipate what is coming and prepare to deal with it. At times, however, this captain’s counsel is wise: “Take it one day at a time. … Don’t look ahead to the pain. Just get through the day.” To worry about what is or may be coming can be debilitating. It can paralyze us and make us quit.

“In the 1950s my mother survived radical cancer surgery, but difficult as that was, the surgery was followed with dozens of painful radiation treatments in what would now be considered rather primitive medical conditions. She recalls that her mother taught her something during that time that has helped her ever since: “I was so sick and weak, and I said to her one day, ‘Oh, Mother, I can’t stand having 16 more of those treatments.’ She said, ‘Can you go today?’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Well, honey, that’s all you have to do today.’ It has helped me many times when I remember to take one day or one thing at a time.”

“The Spirit can guide us when to look ahead and when we should just deal with this one day, with this one moment. If we ask, the Lord will let us know through the Holy Ghost when it may be appropriate for us to apply in our lives the commandment He gave His ancient Apostles: “Take therefore no thought for the morrow, for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient is the day unto the evil thereof” ( 3 Nephi 13:34 ; see also Matthew 6:34 ).”

Close quote.

Aren’t those wonderful words? While I know my daily experience is nothing like that of a Navy Seal, I can’t help but think that the words of the officer apply so aptly to motherhood, to daily life. So to all of us who are tired or worried or frustrated, let’s finish the day. Let’s take it one day at a time when we need to. Don’t look ahead to the pain, and there’s a wonderful life ahead of all of us.

How can you not have a great day after considering that?

Jennifer

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Life with 8 kids, no. 2

January 23, 2012 jennifer Musings on Life and Beauty

Sunday night.

My two oldest boys are wrestling with their Dad, who “ties them up like shoelaces” every time they attack. I admit that it’s fun, and I know that it’s healthy but I can only handle so much because it makes me cringe and wonder what will break before we’re done, especially with bodies this size flying around the room. But they’re laughing. They’re bonding. They’re making a memory.

My youngest is sitting next to me on the chair, doing my hair, which really means she’s pulling my hair. Three of the girls sit at the table calmly and quietly, giving themselves a little lesson in who knows what. The seven year old just ran into the room and turned off the light mid-match. Suddenly our five year old son is bouncing happily on the couch, waiting to dive on top of the next pile.

This is my life. Crazy, noisy, children sitting on the table, laughing, crying, yelling, smiling. Now seven of the children have combined to attack their Dad and somehow he’s like an octopus with an arm shooting out in time to catch anyone about to get away. And in the middle of it all he finds a moment to reach out and tickle my feet with a happy smile on his face. Then he rolls over, lets them all climb on his back, and does a pushup just to show that he can. He makes their lives so much more fun than I do. I’m so grateful for him. At last even our two year old wants in on the action, and he pauses to let her “pin” him.

Our four year old yells, “Dad! Remember the pygmy stuff?” [referring to a wrestling match from Friday with just the little ones] She runs to the other room and returns with a roll of wrapping paper, her sword of choice. She bounces a little and looks up with an enormous smile on her face, ready to take him on.

Soon someone will get hurt. Dad will be done and we’ll read scriptures, pray, and put them to bed. But for these brief moments we’re all in a jumble, four year-olds and fourteen year-olds in a tangle of screaming bodies. Vaguely I wonder what someone would think if they stood on our porch right now. We wouldn’t hear them knock or ring, but I’m sure they’d walk away wondering what kind of crazy people live here.

So, naturally, I’m typing. Because it helps me stay calm while they howl. Because all of this craziness is part of being a family – an important part – and THEY. LOVE. IT.

Suddenly the craziness ends, as quickly as it began. Everyone collapses on the couch to catch their breath. My oldest daughter helps the baby hide under the nearby desk, behind the chair and the last activity of the night is for Dad to find her. He looks happily in all the silliest places, in big brother’s shirt, in big sister’s backpack, in big sister’s lunch box. Then he pulls out the chair she’s hiding behind, turns his back on her, and looks under the chair, all the while yelling “Puddles! I can’t find her!” He gets on his knees and grabs the camera bag right next to her to see if she’s in it. He looks on top of the desk. And she sits there, calmly, still as a statue, watching him look all around her while the other seven pile up behind him squealing with laughter and delight at the ridiculous nature of the search, the knowledge that we all know where she is, the fun of pretending that we don’t. All of it happens inches from my elbow and I pause to look at them. All of them, oldest to youngest, faces plastered with happiness and wonder and LIFE, laughing together.

And I think, THIS is why we had 8 kids. THIS is what life is all about.
I cannot, I cannot forget THIS. I sat there, absorbing the joyful faces around me, trying to fix in my memory this moment so I can return to it when the laundry pile seems bigger than I am, or when the homework battles rage, or when I’m just plain tired.

Life with 8 kids is a lot of things. It’s legos all over the floor, more laundry stacked up than I care to admit, toilets always needing cleaning. It’s two dishwashers running every night, a pile of toothbrushes and toothpaste smeared all over my counter, books everywhere you look. It’s a fifteen passenger van, a grocery bill that amazes me, a life fuller than any calendar has room for. It’s a mother who forgets a lot, but remembers a hundred things for every one thing she forgets, a mother who goes to bed exhausted at the end of the day thinking “I’ll try again tomorrow.” It’s worries and hopes and fears multiplied. It’s a father who carries the weight of our needs on his back, giving up time and hobbies to provide financially by day then come home and provide emotionally by night. It’s planning and teamwork and tears and toil. But 8 kids is mostly about love. All those pluses and minuses somehow add up to more love, more laughter, more joy than you can imagine.

And by some incredible twist of fate, it’s my life. My life with 8 kids. And I love it.

Janie & Jack

January 17, 2012 jennifer Musings on Life and Beauty

I stumbled upon the store, Janie and Jack , entirely by accident during the Christmas shopping season. I walked in and two thoughts hit me simultaneously:

1. Yes! I can’t believe I’ve never seen this before! I have five daughters!
2. It’s a really good thing I’ve never seen this before! ($$$ in my head) So, it’s my new favorite children’s clothing store even though I can’t afford it. Their clothing is beautiful, high quality, and well, the style I love. I scoured the clearance rack and came away with new dresses for three of my girls, all at a great price. {thank goodness for clearance racks!} With shopping bags and coordinating gift boxes that look like vintage wallpaper, I was smitten.

I had already decided I didn’t want to buy more “Christmas” themed dresses; we have enough of them. But I did want to get all of the children something new to wear to church. So on Christmas morning my younger three girls went to church in these:

And for Easter I would LOVE to be able to put my two year old in this dress . Sigh. Having seen it in person I’m pretty sure it’s the cutest dress I’ve ever seen. If you can afford $150 per outfit, you should head there. If you’re like me and you only think of $150 in terms of utility and grocery bills then you can join me in drooling. Either way, pretty is pretty.

Let’s get something straight. I know that clothing and stores and dresses mean very little in the big scheme of things. But I also know this, that every girl who grows up dreaming of having a family has, included in her dreams, little pictures of the cute clothes they’ll wear, pictures of little girls twirling in pretty dresses and little boys looking dapper in their shirts and ties. I had those dreams. I want to remember that I lived them, too. My children don’t wear a lot of high end clothes, but they look nice. They look clean. And the dresses, oh the dresses. I have been so blessed to watch many a girl twirl in their pretty dress and felt that clench of joy in my heart that accompanies it. I want to remember that feeling. Soon everyone will be choosing their own clothes, then buying their own clothes, and then I’ll be watching them twirl in white wedding dresses. My heart will break a little, but in breaking I hope it will also burst with joy, and that I’ll discover the bursting allows it to grow even more.

Until then, I’m treasuring all the little girl moments with cute clothes and pretty dresses that I can get. Because I love it, and I guess part of me is still a little girl, too, except that they look a whole lot cuter in their dresses than I do in mine.