Thursday, January 15, 2015

Ava's Birthday

Ava turned 9 this November.  I can't believe it.  She made me a mother and everyday I'm still learning from her on how to do that exactly.  The oldest kid is just like a lab rat.  I remember driving home from the hospital feeling like we had just held up a bank or something...really?  They're letting us take this helpless infant home...but we know nothing!


She was an angel baby.  Too bad I couldn't just chill out.  I was too busy logging all her bowel movements and checking if she was still breathing every five minutes.

I think this was the first time I'd really gotten gussied up after having her, i.e., a shower, makeup and hair - the trifecta.  Apparently I'd spent the previous nine months in a cave.  Casper is that you?!
She loved her binky.
She was a good eater...
So she grew...
Did I mention she was a good eater?  Look at those rolls!
At about 9 months her hair had an identity crisis.  It went curly.

Ava and her Dad.

And then when she was 4 she wanted a haircut.  And her curls never came back.
Along came little sister.  I think her face says it all.
But she learned to love her.





Our relationship is not always easy.  She's a very strong willed girl, and it's tough to come up against iron all the time.  But she is also so smart, and really intuitive when it comes to kindness.  In fact she's always doing things to surprise me, whether it's setting up an art gallery in the basement or selling fruit I just brought home from the grocery store on the sidewalk in front of our apartment, she has great ideas and goes after what she wants.  Happy 9th Ava Katie!

Sunday, January 11, 2015

On Forgiveness

There are so many things I love about my calling in the Young Women's program...hanging out with enthusiastic, optimistic and all around funny girls, fast Sundays where the gospel is compared to Frodo and Sam's relationship in The Lord of the Rings during the last ten minutes of class set aside for testimony bearing and well, learning with the girls as I prepare lessons every other Sunday. 

Today we talked a little bit about forgiveness.  Recently I got to know a woman in her early twenties who had been sexually abused by a relative when she was in her teens.  This brave woman had somehow managed to overcome addiction and an apathetic nuclear family to find a young man, who also had been through some pretty heavy stuff and together they were recently sealed in the temple to their toddler. 

Her mother essentially told her she was asking for it.  That she wore inappropriate clothing.  Over the past few years her mother and this relative have intimidated and guilt tripped her into keeping quiet about what happened. 

She shared with me that after her family was sealed, her mother approached her while still in the temple and told her she wasn't even sure if this woman was worthy to be there since she had not forgiven the offender relative for what he had done. 

If your head's not exploding with anger right now the way mine was when she told me this then you must have had your heart removed at some point. 

You could tell that this comment had really bothered this woman.  That she had begun to question whether she had been worthy to be there since she had not forgiven her offender. 

I think so often in this church, or maybe just in the Mormon culture we have an all or nothing view on forgiveness.  If we want to be forgiven of our trespasses, we must forgive others.  This is true.  But no one said it had to happen overnight, or next month or in a decade. 

The fact is, most hurts that are done to us are inflicted by people who should love and cherish us the most.  These hurts cut the most deeply because the person wounding you is someone you love.  Confusion and self-blame follow.  It's hard to wrap your head around being so misguided in your judgement. 

The thing about these wounds...they leave scars.  But what I've been learning is that sometimes the changes that come from hard experiences make you into the person Heavenly Father wants you to become.  Someone with stripes hidden and sometimes not so hidden on their hearts.  Someone with reserves of empathy and love for other imperfect humankind.  Each of us have a story to tell. 

Forgiveness is a process, and sometimes just when we believe ourselves free from the bitter pill we find ourselves swallowing it once more as we relive the offense.  As I get older, the more I see all the gray in the world.  Nothing is black and white.  Judgement is for God.  Empathy and love are for us.

I'm sure it's hard for the fifteen and sixteen year-olds sitting there to comprehend that there may be a time where they are faced with holding onto or letting go of the pain and the anger that comes from being betrayed or mistreated by a loved one, and I hope that everything is smooth sailing in their lives, but I know that it won't always be.  I hope that they remember that the Savior has felt every one of our darkest feelings, the anguish and the sorrow of our entire life, and that He is always there waiting for us to give over our pain to Him.  Because whether we wrap it inside of ourselves and try to contain the damage to only ourselves, the fact remains that He has already been through it with us. 

And that is what is truly wonderful about the atonement...there is hope for those who have suffered at the hands of somebody else, and there is hope for that somebody that has made the suffering happen in the first place. 

And that's all I really have to say about that.