Warmth

Today I was listening to Andrew Pudewa's seminar on How to Nurture Competent Communicators in the context of teaching writing skills. He is the founder of Institute for Excellence in Writing. In this class, he explains that you can't expect students to write unless they have a database of correct and sophisticated language patterns already stored in their brain. He was elaborating on how the two top resources for acquiring this are reading aloud to them and memorizing poetry, among other things. He spoke about how it's okay to listen to audio books because we just don't have time to read aloud to our students for hours on end each day. He made a comment about how different these audio books are, though, from having a loved one read aloud to you as a child.

When a parent or grandparent is reading aloud to you, there is a certain warmth that goes along with it. There is a sharing of souls that happens in those moments. I thought about how when I really get into reading aloud well to my children, I put inflection, tone and body language into the story. I look at their awe-stricken faces and experience the suspense with them. I laugh with them and sometimes cry in front of them. When you listen to an audio book with a professional actor reading the text, you do not experience that same feeling of warmth and personality. So, he suggested actually having grandparents read aloud some of your favorite books and record it to pass down to your children and grandchildren. What a family heirloom to create in this day of technology!

His comment about warmth caused me to reflect quite deeply. I questioned whether or not I am a source of this warmth myself. With all my striving to live the gospel, to serve others, to educate myself, to teach self-government, to be calm, to have order in my home and life, etc, etc, etc... am I warm toward others? Do they feel a sense of love and acceptance, of validation, just from being in my presence? A while ago, I noticed that a friend would often sign her emails with “Warmly.” And I felt such a warm fuzzy from her each time I would read this! I wanted to convey that same feeling to others and began signing mine that way sometimes, too.

I suffered through some bittersweet moments of realization today. I am not as warm as I thought I was. In analyzing my actual communication with family members, friends, and acquaintances, I've realized that I often portray a false sense of connection. At times, I am too hurried to really listen, too self-absorbed to even make more than a glance of eye contact, too worried to notice a need, too busy to serve, to insecure to share. I politely wait for the interruption they caused in my life to be over so that I can continue. I am sometimes, in essence, COLD. I am reminded again of the lesson from The Anatomy of Peace on seeing people as people, not objects. Life is about relationships, not accomplishments.

Thankfully, these bitter realizations led to some sweet experiences as my awareness of warmth increased. As I sang to my 9 month old before putting him down for a nap, I just gazed into his eyes and really focused on him. The distractions of the day were silenced and my heart filled with joy as we shared a loving connection. I began to see the many interruptions that my four-year-old comes to me with as his way of inviting me to rejoice with him over something that brought his heart joy. He wants me to feel it, too! Instead of standing across the room and glaring down at my eight-year-old while correcting her, I lightened my tone and sat down beside her with my arm around her. She felt my love, we connected; she cracked a smile and accepted my correction. Warmth.

Just looking into the smiling eyes of a really warm person is like getting a hug from them. Souls connect. I am a pleasant surprise to them instead of a distracting interruption. I immediately feel boosted, validated, loved. I am welcome.

I've never been a very good greeter. I sort of walk up to someone and dive right into my objective, my drive for efficient accomplishment dominating all else. Oh, what heavenly treasures I've missed out on in the carrying out of this habit!!

Warmth. You can see it in the eyes. You can feel it in a hug. You can hear it in a laugh. You can sense it in someone's pace and focus. So I will look you in the eye. I will feel my heart touch yours when we embrace. I will really laugh with you, not just laugh at something together. I will welcome your interruption. I will make an effort to actually pause my train of thought so that I can give you my full attention. At least I will try! Let's try together, shall we?

To Dare Mighty Things

Around Memorial Day, we found a blue robin egg shell on our sidewalk.

We also looked at pictures of Mount Rushmore and wondered about the life of Theodore Roosevelt. I wasn't quite sure why he was on Mount Rushmore, I'm ashamed to say. I remember astonishingly few facts from my schooling.

While at the library today, I quickly chose two books from the New Books display shelf. To my pleasant surprise, I ended up coming home with a book about Teddy Roosevelt and a book about nesting robins!

First, I read “Have You Heard the Nesting Bird?” by Rita Gray. Not only did it specifically answer the question about how the mommy bird removes the egg shells from the nest to protect her babies from predators, but it offered me a sweet message from the Holy Ghost as I read. All the birds are singing throughout the book except for the Nesting Bird, who is completely silent and stays at the nest. As I read about this little robin quietly performing her duties as a mother, I felt a sense of peace wash over me. I realized that this is my place (and pace) right now: home, and close to my children. I worry sometimes over the many things I'd like to be doing, several of which include finding my “voice” – writing a chapter book series, furthering the work on my novel, completing my 7 Keys Certification for Leadership Education, reading the books for my Mentoring in the Classics class, reading for Relief Society Book Club, creating posts for my blog... the list could go on and on. And on. But as I related to this mother robin, priorities fell into their proper place and I felt my capacity for joy in my home increase. All things have their season.

Next, I read the inspiring story of Theodore Roosevelt in a book entitled, “To Dare Mighty Things” by Doreen Rappaport.

This story tells about the thorough education that Teddy gave himself growing up. He is an excellent example of the Leadership Education model I am following in my home school. He was curious about things, read about them, drew them, set up his own museum as a child, and wrote books about them. I could go on. He also took time to feed his soul when he needed it. His family and life's work were a joy to him. Then I read this quote from a speech he gave.

“Far better is it to dare mighty things, to win glorious triumphs, even though checkered by failure...than to rank with those poor spirits who neither enjoy nor suffer much, because they live in a gray twilight that knows not victory nor defeat.”

Again I felt a message of encouragement come from my Heavenly Father. Certainly I may not accomplish all that I am setting out to do, but it is so much better to be trying and failing than to never have tried to succeed at all. I feel as though I have found in Teddy Roosevelt a kindred spirit, one who sees the wrong and takes action to make it right. For this message to come to me alongside the message of the mother robin is in itself a third message to me from God: Have peace and take joy in the motherly pace of raising your children, but also keep trying to fulfill the other parts of the mission to which I have called you. Don't give up. I will prepare a way for you to accomplish the things you've been commanded to do.

I know the Lord placed these books in my hands today at the library. I feel assured that my Heavenly Father knows the challenges I face and He is there for me. He watches over my every step and patiently waits for me to come unto Him and His Son, Jesus Christ. When I do, He is ready to pour out His blessings upon me and help me, not only to succeed, but to have joy as I am working to do so. (Incidentally, as I was reading these books to James, he fell asleep! Voila! The way was prepared for me to write this! I feel so blessed!)

Worth It

Yesterday, my daughter was reluctantly folding a basket of laundry. I turned to my daughter and said, “I will finish folding your basket of laundry if you will go outside and get the dish pans for me.” (We'd been using them to build snow bricks and they were likely going to blow away in the wind.)

“Really?” she chirped. Then her face fell as she realized that she would have to put her snow gear back on, likely get wet, have to change clothes, etc. After a few moments' debate, her eyes brightened and she jumped up, exclaiming, “It's worth it!” Motivated by relief from the task at hand, she bounded down the stairs and out the door.

Earlier this week, I finally met one of my daily goals: going to bed early. What a blessing it was to get up early the next morning and have time to pray, study, write and accomplish a few things while everyone else was still sleeping! My day snow-balled and was filled with more and more blessings as the chain reaction of that one decision played out. Many prayers were answered. (I should add that heartfelt repentance and prayer were a major part of what led to the blessings, not just sleep).

The next night, however, did not go as well. When I awoke the next morning at 5:30 to feed Baby Hack, I had an internal debate. Should I go ahead and get up or go back to sleep for an hour or so? Sleep won. But I didn't. I awoke only minutes before the rest of the household, so my prayer and study were brief and there was not much time to accomplish anything, and no time to write. By the end of the day, I was discouraged and frustrated – a slave to my sorrow – again.

So the next day I found myself awake at 5:30 again and asking myself the question: Is it worth it?

A myriad of memories has been swimming through my head ever since. A speaker I'd heard, who said, “God told me that this blessing I was asking for would not come through casual effort.” A homeschooling mom who said, “If you don't get up early, you know you will have a bad day.” Part of a book called The Dream Giver, in which the author asserts that, like Abraham, there will come a point in your journey at which the Lord asks you to sacrifice the thing you love the most (food, sleep, pride, your self?). The message of the book, The Anatomy of Peace, which said that when you have a thought that you should do something and then you betray yourself and don't do it, you end up unhappy, making up excuses for your behavior and rationalizing your guilt away. I thought of my daughter's anticipation of relief and how it motivated her to act. Relief from guilt and sorrow could be a powerful motivator.

In essence, do we not all face this debate constantly? Is it worth it? We all have some thing (or more likely many things) lingering before us that is hard for us to do. It may be overcoming shyness so that you can speak to others. It may be overcoming fear so can do what you know you should. It may be sacrificing a bit of sleep so that you can have the blessing of powerful scripture study and prayer, or exercise, in your life. It might be sacrificing the pleasure of eating junk in order to preserve your health. Whatever it is that you feel you should do, but are finding trouble actually doing, take a step back and look at it wisely.

It all came together when I read Stephen Palmer's article, in which he says, “Wise people learn to foresee consequences and act accordingly.” He went on to quote Viktor Frankl, who said, “Live as though you are living already for the second time and as if you had acted the first time as wrongly as you are about to act now.”

I'd wager that most of us are walking around making most of our choices out of habit. If it's our habit to stay up late in the name of accomplishment even when that time ends up fruitless day after day, then we just keep doing it. Often, we feel powerless to change, thinking things like 'well, I slept late this morning, so I can't go to bed early tonight.' If it's our habit to procrastinate tasks that scare the living daylights out of us, or make us feel inadequate, then we will procrastinate them again and again. Each choice drives us further into the spiral of despair at the heart of our souls, where we know that we are not doing things that we should do.

I was deep down one of these spirals when the voice of the Lord said to me, “Where is your faith?” I realized that I was succumbing to the devil's convincing voice that I was just a failure and therefore could not succeed in overcoming. I wondered where my faith had gone? Faith is a principle of action. I should be acting, as I am free to do, to solve my problems. I should be acting to do the things that I know I should do.

Jacob 6:12 says “O be wise, what can I say more?” Wisdom helps me to see beyond the choice I am about to make. Wisdom foresees, “You will get sick if you continue eating this way.” “You will feel guilt and sorrow if you do not call those people and set up appointments with them this week, but real relief and happiness if you do.” “You will be blessed with power and calm throughout the day if you get up early and take care of your spirit and body.” Wisdom foresees that the craving, discomfort, and sleepiness will be short-lived if you make the right choice and plow through them.

Faith decides to actually care about what Wisdom says and do something about it. Faith puts away the box of graham crackers and chews a piece of gum. Faith picks up the phone and faces fear and reluctance. Faith goes to bed and gets up early. Faith doesn't do things the wrong way you've always done them. Faith makes a change.

“I can do all things through Christ, which strengtheneth me” (Philippians 4:13).

Faith first believes this, then, through prayer and consistently acting and doing what should be done, Faith comes to know it is actually true. With Christ, I can. And I will. It doesn't matter how many times I've failed at it or how many times I still will fail as I am trying to improve. Each new day begins: With Christ, I can. And I will.

It. Is. Worth. It.

Do what you know you should.