Doors and Windows

Having gone through quite the rough spot in life lately (by rough spot I mean that I fell in a pot hole in the road that literally swallowed me whole and spit me back out for round 2) I have had some amazing people give me some even better advice. All well meaning and so kind and loving. One of my favorite people said, 'there is a light at the end of the tunnel' and then with the announcement that the only man I have ever really loved was marrying a 19 year old blond girl after dating her 7 weeks, I called that light a freight train. Being left alone in my apartment for a few days made that a special kind of freight train, one with a reverse. It happened to run over me repeatedly while on a bridge. It didn't take me long to figure out that my options were to keep getting run over or dive into the water, and at that point all I really wanted to do was choke the driver and stick him in the coal box. It took me several days to decide to dive. Once I did, I then had another decision to make. (P. S. I HATE HATE HATE to make decisions. Especially when I know that they will effect others.) After the proverbial jump from the train track bridge I realized that while in this water I could sink or swim. I have always consider myself quite the water baby. I have been surrounded by it my entire life. So why all of a sudden did I feel like just drowning? At this point I remembered some things about water like how there are snakes and that sometimes you can't see your feet, and then the best known fact, that every single body of water has a shoreline, somewhere it all ends. There is always a way out. I decided to be a big girl, popped the little swimmies of self doubt that I was letting weigh me down and took off for the shore. It wasn't long before I realized that my heartache, like this water, was, now more than ever, a choice. I could stay in wallow in the fact that I had lost love, been hurt, and made to feel like garbage, or I could move on and accept that it was a sign from Heavenly Father that it really was all over and I could move on and seek something better. Cold water surprisingly does a lot for freight train damages to the mind and spirit.

Another well meaning love in my life always tells me that, 'one door closes and another one opens'. Harry Potter lovers see this as a room with lots of doors always spinning and that actually opening one is like playing Russian roulette without a gun, but there could very well still be a bullet. On the subject of doors, I am woefully undereducated. I know that I like the view from my back door at home, the swing, the rocking chairs, the babies, the men grilling, the boys fishing, the women just a talking, and the dog being lazy in the sun. I know that I like the leaded glass that adorns my front door, and the way the lights look at Christmas time. I love the doors from my childhood. Aunt Katrina's painted like a barn door, for all 8 of her kids to come racing through at any time day or night with most of the neighborhood kids in tow, or Aunt Randy's big green door. It was probably the coolest. For some reason Aunt Randy's door always attracted those tiny green rain frogs. We caught millions and accidentally squished 10s of millions in the door! Grandma's door was hand made by grandpa with a huge glass oval, welcoming all to come and join in. That's about all I've got on doors. So I have been learning so much about them lately. I've learned that sometimes they close and there is no key that will open them again. Sometimes they slam behind you and shatter into a million pieces. Sometimes when you don't walk through them fast enough they hit you in the bum as a subtle reminder. Sometimes when I manage to make a key to reopen them, I open myself up to more hurt, by finding answers that I didn't really need. And then sometimes the door I am facing is locked and I don't have the answers to open it. That is probably the worst part.

While I was thinking about that today on my drive down to Provo, I heard a song on the radio by Rascal Flatts. One line says, "If one door opens to another door closed I hope you keep on walking till you find the window." It made me really think about the windows in my life, real and otherwise. A little higher up off the ground, a little harder to get into or out of, a little less obvious, a little more effort to navigate, and most of all STILL an opening, they can STILL lead you to the right path. In the words of Katy Perry, 'Maybe your reason why all the doors are closed, so you could open one that leads you to the perfect road.' What is my perfect road? Is it a country lane or a mountain path? Who is going to help me navigate it? What will the scenery look like? Green hills, lots of trees, or just red Georgia clay? When will I get the courage to climb out the window that I have been given, and quit trying to unlock the door?

It was then that I realized that I have so many windows that I should be getting sunburned. I will always have doors, tunnels with lights, and hopefully a few windows. I can make those lights not be trains and I can walk through doors with confidence, I can even build ladders in my life and in my heart that make those windows reachable and not so surprising. I will always have decisions to make and that it is NOT considered selfish to make decisions in my own best interest. Sometimes it is necessary, even vital to think of my own heart and what is best for my future.

In light of that, (pun intended) I was given the most glorious and beautiful set of windows any girl could ask for. They even have names. On Sunday afternoon I was kidnapped by the 4 cutest little kids ever (obviously with the greatest parents ever, considering they did manage to get from Utah to Idaho for the above mentioned kidnapping). They make a pretty cute window. Their parents were married a little late in life and it gives me hope that maybe I will find an Andrew to fill my window pane one day.

In my actual window I see the temple when I wake up in the mornings and that is probably the best view that could or will ever be in my window. Sometimes I just need to be reminded of what is supposed to be in my window and what the window is actually for. Thanks Chloe for helping me remember and loving me when I forget about how beautiful the view really is from where I sit.

The Balm of Gilead

As I sit here at work eating my turkey sandwich, I can hear my boss streaming General Conference over the Internet. It has become his ritual to listen to different talks throughout the day. It has brought much comfort and solace to my troubled soul. As I bowed my head to thank my Heavenly Father for one of the messages I realized that I have been praying about a 100 times a day lately. I know that we are to pray morning, noon and night but when things aren't going well I am guilty of praying more than aunt Katrina, if you can believe that! When I was a little girl I used to stay with her all the time. When we all loaded up to go somewhere one of us 11 younguns, without fail, would have lost something, usually me or Jed, and it was usually some piece of clothing that we needed to be wearing. She would always say a prayer and then go to looking for it. I can't count how many pairs of shoes, ponytail holders, shirts, belts, and purses were prayed over in the doorway of the old trailer they lived in or even in the front seat of the old prison van she used to drive. I am so grateful for that example. I have learned a lot of lessons over the years but none are quite as strong as the ones that I have been taught by example. Same thing with Aunt Randy. When Trey was having Dylan and we were all in hospital. Dylan struggled for a good little while and we were all so scared. Every single one of us was praying our little Doodle Loop through. Now almost 4 years later I can still remember the quiet hospital hallway lined with my family, every head was bowed, ever single set of eyes closed and ever pair of arms folded so tight our hands were white, in humble prayer that we could get to keep our little Dylan, and miracle of miracles we did. Another strong example of prayer in my life is from my mama. She seems to always have the inner confidence and quite calm that I often long for. When Elijah got his eye hurt I can remember many different times when we said family prayer that she would pray for him to be healed or to at least be given the strength to endure his trial well. I was always so impressed with her calm assurance that whatever came out of any given bad situation would be the Lord's will and that our task was to accept it and make the best of it. I can also remember her always saying, "Well the Lord will just provide." Her faith and constant prayers to accept the will of the Lord in our lives has been a huge building block for me throughout my life. At family parties we always eat. We enjoy our southern roots and part of that has always been, and will always be good fixins. But the thing that I remember the most is always grandpa's prayers before we dig in. He prays for those of us that are there, those that are not, those that are serving missions, or just married, or having babies, or having hard times. He never forgets to express his deep gratitude for all of us, as wild and crazy and imperfect as we sometimes are. As a missionary in the rice fields of the Philippines I can remember feeling those prayers and the strength and courage that I knew were coming from those back home praying for me. Enough courage and strength to take one more step, talk to one more of Heavenly Father's children, and do just a little bit more before my time was up. The prayers for those in my family that struggle have never ceased either. Whether it was divorce, loss of a spouse, a baby, a job, a testimony, a love, a physical illness, or a spiritual one, it all gets wrapped up in a prayer somewhere. My life lately has given me great cause to seek the refuge of the temple and the peace that comes from within those walls. As I sat in the chapel yesterday the organists was playing hymns and one that he picked was 'Did You Think To Pray' (LDS Hymnbook, Hymn 140). It reads: 1. Ere you left your room this morning, Did you think to pray? In the name of Christ, our Savior, Did you sue for loving favor As a shield today? [Chorus]Oh, how praying rests the weary! Prayer will change the night to day. So, when life gets dark and dreary, Don’t forget to pray. 2. When your heart was filled with anger, Did you think to pray? Did you plead for grace, my brother, That you might forgive another Who had crossed your way? 3. When sore trials came upon you, Did you think to pray? When your soul was full of sorrow, Balm of Gilead did you borrow At the gates of day? Text: Mary A. Pepper Kidder, 1820–1905 Music: William O. Perkins, 1831–1902 Elder Boyd K. Packer said, "The Bible records that in ancient times there came from Gilead, beyond the Jordan, a substance used to heal and soothe. It came, perhaps, from a tree or shrub, and was a major commodity of trade in the ancient world. It was known as the Balm of Gilead. That name became symbolic for the power to soothe and heal." (New Era, August 1979). The hymn recognizes prayer as one of those balms from the land of Gilead. I would also suggest that temple worship, good music, scripture study, service, and a strong family support are wonderful forms of this healing balm. My favorite thing about the 'balm of Gilead' is that it is not a balm for our mortal bodies, but one for our souls. It can and will soothe the burns of abuse, mend the broken heart, and comfort the weary soul. My Heavenly Father will always be here for me, as long as I let him. He has given me His balm. The knowledge of His son and the sacrifice that He made for me. I know that when sore trials come up me I need look no further to my Savior, the eternal source of my very own kind of balm, to heal my broken heart, soothe away the pains of life, and give me the strength to continue again. It can not be bought or sold. It is always available to me if I but seek it. My heart, when in the middle of pain and overcome with despair, often times has cried, with Jeremiah of the Old Testament, "Is there no balm in Gilead?" and just as often, after I have turned to my Savior, I received the blessed answer from my loving Heavenly Father as did Joshua in olden times, "5.There shall not any man be able to stand before thee all the days of thy life: as I was with Moses, so I will be with thee: I will not fail thee, nor forsake thee. 6. Be strong and of a good courage....." (Joshua 1:5-6). He lives. He is my Redeemer and the Savior of the World. As I choose to use the balm that has so liberally been given me, I will be healed, as will you. I have an usually large family that are always teaching me and have become one of my favorite sources of healing and comfort. This picture shows some of the best Balm that Heavenly Father has blessed me with. LtoR: Mama, Aunt Katrina, Aunt Randy, Little Randall, Grandma and Grandpa

Tender Mercies

Just one of the many tender mercies that my loving father in heaven has seen fit to bless me with recently. Until I can get home to real sunshine, beach sand, and my family, this little reminder will do. I am so grateful for the knowledge that I have of my Heavenly Father and the plan that He has for me. He knows me. He loves me. And he saw fit to remind me today. My heart is grateful.