Eyes That See

The weather has been dreary this week, but I love the rain.  It’s so refreshing.  

Oh, and did I tell you that I won the award for housewife accident of the year?!  Two nights ago when I was preparing dinner in my lovely victorian apron with my Doris Day up-do (j/k), a splat of hamburger grease hit me square in the right eye.  The next day my vision was blurred enough that I found myself sitting at the eye doctor.  Somehow, the hot grease managed to land directly on my cornea leaving me with a nice eye burn spanning my line of sight.  Are your eyes watering yet?  How does this happen?!  It’d be funny to watch a slow motion video of this incident - okay maybe not really funny, but sort of funny.  The doctor said he’d never seen such a target hit.  Luckily, we live in a modern world with treatment options, and I’m well on my way back to 20/20 again.  

Either way, I have eyes that see most clearly when I’m on my knees...leaving unanswered questions to Heavenly Father, finding gratitude in my challenges, and enjoying the simple beauties all around me. 

   (I really enjoy walking to Carlie’s bus stop each day to pick her up from school.)

P.S. Please consider wearing safety goggles if you cook dinner tonight. 

Gabriel, We Love You.

Gabe is 2 yrs & 4 months old now.  He is such a good little boy.  With AnnMarie & Carlie both in school, the two of us have morning time, & I absolutely love it.  I will miss our one-on-one time together when the new baby comes, but we are both looking forward to “baby” joining us soon.  

Today Gabe accompanied me to my OB appointment, and the whole time we were there he insisted on holding my hand while carrying his little diaper bag in the other hand.  He has been a babe of little words, but the past month has been exciting to hear his vocabulary blossom.  Yesterday morning as I walked out of my room after getting all ready for church (actually wearing make-up people), he looked at me and said, “Wow, Mommy!”  

Yeah, it made me feel pretty great. :)

His favorite book is called “Little Blue Truck,” by Alice Schertle and I read it to him every single night; it’s so sweet to hear him try to read along with me, too.  (He loves books more than any of my other kiddos have at that age.)

So basically Gabriel, I love you so much little guy, and I can’t imagine our family without you and your golden cherub curls.    

 

Learning to Forgive

I, the Lord, will forgive whom I will forgive, but of you it is required to forgive all men. [D&C 64:9–10]

I would be lying if I said that anger was not a real part of the grieving process.  Sometimes I am angry at individuals...those closest to me…sometimes myself…sometimes people I don’t even really know.  Sometimes I feel abandoned, misled, or confused.  It’s difficult not to question an emulated lifestyle .  Some days, I feel so alone.  

I choose to forgive.

“It’s all part of the process,” people say.  “It’s totally normal,” which I suppose means I’m validated in my feelings...but how would they know?  No two trials are ever the same.  It’s easy to offer comfort when you’re secretly grateful it’s not you.  However, as a good friend explained to me, I have come to realize that 'grief, sorrow, and pain are universal...enabling us to relate with compassion and love toward those we see suffering.’  

I choose to forgive.

Insensitive remarks can cause so much hurt to the broken-hearted.  I wonder if that’s why some people choose to remain silent in the face of another’s adversity.  “How can they not say something about this?” I ask.  I know we’re all at different points in our progression, and most of us are fighting our own demons anyway.   

I choose to forgive.  

How can I rise above an outcome that cannot be changed?  How can I ever feel the peace I once knew?  I have never known such pain, and I know there will be many days ahead when my heart aches and my tears flow.  

Even then, I will choose to forgive.  

I know forgiveness is not a one-time choice.  I have to choose it every day, over and over again.  Often many times in one day - when I see the grief felt by my mom, my brothers, and their wives, when my own children ask questions that cannot be answered right now, when I look at pictures of happier times or see his pencil markings in all of my music books.

I choose to forgive.

Why?  Because I trust in Him, for “I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me” (Philippians 4:13), and come what may, there is true joy in the promises of eternity.