He Doesn't Even Know

At church on Sunday, my one-year old bent down to pick up a toy. His head was right below the hymnbook holder on the back of the bench in front of us. My husband quickly reached out and put his hand between the wooden holder and our son's head. Our son stood up and went right along with his playing without a second thought. Ryan looked at me and whispered, "He doesn't even know."

It really made me think. How often do we "not even know"? How often do we fail to notice the hand that's protecting us? How many times in a day or a week or a month am I helped, rescued, saved, guarded, or watched over - and I don't even know? When was the last time I sat down and really pondered on the near-constant stream of blessings that is mine every single day? How many times has my life been saved, saved from pain, sorrow, or even death, because I am worth it, and I am loved, and I am cared for?

I have been pondering on this all week long, and it occurs to me that being a child of Heavenly Father is so much more than I have ever considered before. As I make my journey through parenthood, learning and growing and observing along the way, I am constantly struck with the sheer number of times I save my children - from all sorts of dangerous, precarious - and sometimes hilarious - misfortunes. I am never too tired to jump up and catch him as he slides trustingly off the edge of the table. I am never too busy to pull him away from the "poky bushes." I am never too frustrated to give a hug in a moment of overwhelmed sorrow. I'm not a perfect parent, and I can't catch everything. Plus, sometimes I have to also recognize that saving them means allowing them to experience a minor struggle in order to learn. But I am constantly watching them, waiting ready to save them again.

On this Easter weekend, I simply want to add my witness to so many others that God is our loving, eternal, Heavenly Father. He knows us. He loves us. He is our parent, and we are His children. That love that I feel for my boys every single day is but a tiny glimpse of the love He feels for me, and for you, and for all of us. I am so grateful to Him for providing a Savior for me, who suffered and died so that I could live my life, learning and growing and many times not even knowing all the ways that He has saved me. He lives, and because He lives, I can live, too.

Used to Be

Used to be.
What does that even mean? We say it all the time.
I used to be thinner.
I used to be more exciting.
I used to be popular.
I used to be the life of the party.
I used to be a more regular blogger.
I used to be different.

What does that say about us now, if our thoughts are full of used to bes? Does talking about what we used to be diminish what we have become? Do we do it because we feel inadequate in what we are now and there's some kind of unspoken requirement that we reminisce on what we used to be? If that's the case then it's sure ironic, because all you have to do is log in to Facebook and you're almost guaranteed to run into some stock photo of a beach or a sunset or a river that has some cute quote plastered on it about becoming something better every new day or something cheesy like that. And yet everyone's still so focused on what they used to be and how great they were back then that it seems to be a common struggle to accept who we are now and learn to be happy with it, even when it's not exactly who we expected to find at this point in our lives.

I used to be different, too. Pinning down exactly who and what I used to be is difficult - because here's the challenge: nobody remembers perfectly. Certain moments stand out like trees on a distant horizon, and that's really all we remember. We forget much of the detail and remember only the highlights, which allow us to tint our "used to be" picture whatever shade we want. I could say I used to be happier and more exciting and more the life of the party and provide a convincing handful of examples, or I could tell you I used to be sad and lonely and depressed and provide just as many details.

Perhaps we're fixated on what we used to be for this very reason. We can manipulate it to make us look as good or as bad as we want, and nobody's the wiser.

Maybe that's why it's so hard to accept the who we are right now. We can't paint a rosy picture for everyone around us by blurring the details, because they see them, every minute of every day. They know the real us, right here, right now.

Who are we really?
Did I used to be a nicer, happier, gentler, more content person?
Or have I only successfully convinced myself that I was, and in reality I had just as many ups and downs as I ever have?
Is there really any productive point in comparing my here and now self with the self that I used to be?
Or is that a cleverly disguised way of denying the power of the Atonement in my life by continually dragging up the past in order to cloud or brighten the present - artificially?

Maybe it would be better to forget the used to bes and simply concentrate on the here and right nows.

Here and right now I'm not the life of the party. I'm not exciting, and I'm not always happy and bubbly. I stress over things too much and let it affect my mood for days or weeks. I'm not very confident or faith-filled.

But I can sit and blow bubbles on the porch with my toddler. I teach Relief Society lessons that people claim to like and feel like I do a good job with them. I make friends with people I never expected and have random conversations that end up making a difference to people. Sometimes I make jokes that make people laugh,

Maybe that's enough, for now.

Viva la Vida.

Looking Up

Sometimes you're the windshield; sometimes you're the bug.

After a long, difficult summer of often feeling like the bug - I'm ready to be the windshield. For many days now I've started the day determined to change things, to be the windshield again and start making things different. Every night I feel like I crawl into bed defeated. I suppose it's good that every day I try again, because I know that change isn't easy and it takes time. But the disappointment that comes when I head into a situation determined to be different and then find that I'm just not strong enough yet is almost too great to bear. 

I gave a relief society lesson about a year ago that I felt strongly impressed to give. I discussed with the sisters the times that we feel ourselves being beaten down by the winds of life, the adversary, consequences of sin, etc. I challenged every sister to go home and write down her testimony, with the help of the Spirit. Then I challenged them to hold onto that testimony for dear life, to treasure it, and to go back and cling to it in times of difficulty. We ended watching the Mormon Message by Elder Holland, in which he says the following:

"Don’t give up. Don’t you quit. You keep walking. You keep trying. There is help and happiness ahead—a lot of it. It will be all right in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come. Some blessings come soon, some come late, and some don’t come until heaven; but for those who embrace the gospel of Jesus Christ, they come."

There was hardly a dry eye at the end of the lesson. We all felt the Spirit so powerfully. But I didn't take the challenge. I was good, I thought. I had it all together. I was the one who gave the lesson, the challenge was meant for those I was teaching, not for me. I was wrong, and there have been many days since then that I have truly regretted not writing down my feelings that day. Fortunately, Elder Holland was right. There are so very many good things to come. Blessings await those who are faithful to the Lord. I know from my past experience that things always get better, and that the times where we feel like the bug on the windshield do pass. It just takes time. 

I am so very grateful to be a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I have a wonderful husband, a sweet son, loving parents and in-laws and extended family. I have so many blessings in my life, and those are the things I treasure, even on days where I feel like things will never turn around. Life is truly wonderful, even though it is filled with challenges. 

Viva la Vida.

My Best Self

I really like reading Al Fox's stuff - whenever someone shares it on Facebook. I liked this post a lot today - as I sit here with wet, thick, kinky hair feeling frustrated that looking fabulous takes more time than I have - well, seeing this post was timely.

#myworth #imatter

Daffodil Flashback

I ran across this poem today and couldn't help but chuckle. I wrote it when my awesome coworker was learning the poem "Daffodils" by William Wordsworth, and she would recite it over...and over...and over...and over... It still makes me laugh. If anyone knows of a parody-to-famous-poetry contest in which I could enter it, please let me know :)

Daffodils - by William Wordsworth
as adapted by Jen Parks

I wandered lonely as a clown
That stumbles along on crazy stilts
When all at once I saw a crowd
A host of angry daffodils.
Beside the wall, upon the rocks
Shouting and yelling at a fox.

Continuous as the taxis roll
And honk upon the motorway,
They marched and pushed a bouncy ball
Along their hot and angry way.
Ten thousand saw I at a glance
Raising their spears in Spartan dance.

The grass beside them withered brown
They pierced the leaves upon the ground.
A poet can’t help but be afraid 
Of such a fearsome flower brigade.
I stared in fright, and every thought
Was on escaping from this lot.

For oft, when in my bed I lie
Shaking with terror from the sight,
They flash upon that inward eye,
Remind me oft of all my fright.
And then my heart with terror fills
And runs, screaming, from the daffodils. 

New Year's resolutions

I've always thought New Year's resolutions were a little silly. For one, nobody ever sticks to them. Secondly, it comes right after the holidays in the middle of the winter (if you live in the northern hemisphere) and it's not much of a time to feel motivated to start a fresh new perspective on life. However, most years I make resolutions, if for no other reason than that I like setting goals. I do it all the time and hardly ever achieve them. Why not do it again on January 1st?

I can't promise I won't make more resolutions on January 1st, 2014. However, after watching General Conference this weekend, I decided this was a good time to set some goals. So I did. And I'm hoping they change my life a little bit. I'm kind of in a rut, and I'm not as happy as I could be. I feel like since I graduated and lost my job and started working from home, I'm not progressing in life as much as I could be. There's not really any reason I shouldn't be progressing. I don't have to be attending college classes to better myself. After all, "lifelong learning and service" is one of the AIMS of my BYU education - and if I can't figure out how to do do that, I missed something very important in the five years I spent going to class.

So here's hoping for a fresh start on October 7th - that the upcoming year and years will be better, more fulfilling, and happier. I don't expect they'll be perfect - life here never is - but maybe they'll be a little brighter and I'll be just a little bit better. After all, that's the point of being here in this mortal life in the first place - to continually progress toward the perfection our Father in Heaven knows we can achieve.

Viva la Vida.

Viva la Vida - today and always

Viva la Vida - I started this blog over three years ago.

It's documented a lot of hard work, thoughts, dreams, hopes, and life changes, not the least of which was getting married and starting out on another journey that was different from anything I'd ever experienced.

And yet, through all the life changes and exciting events, I still keep going back to the title that I chose on a whim. I can't even remember when I chose it, I just remember I picked it one day and it stuck. Viva la Vida. Live the live. Live my life. Not his life or her life or the life I wish I had or the life I used to have. My life. The one I'm living in right now, at this very moment, the one where my heart is beating, keeping me alive, keeping me living here, right now.

It's so easy to miss that. So easy to fall into the trap of living a past life, or a different life, choosing to ignore the moments that don't fit, like puzzle pieces that you can't find quite where they go. I have some of those. But hiding the puzzle pieces, or pretending they don't exist - it leaves you with an empty, half-complete puzzle, staring at the bits of what might have been.

So viva la vida. The good and the bad. The easy and the hard. Viva la vida even while life is a whirlwind of change and you haven't any idea what's ahead or how to possibly find success, or peace, or even happiness. Live it. Don't give up on it. Just live it. It's your life to live, to make the most of every moment, because each moment is a gift from an all-knowing, all-loving Father, who knows what He's doing.

Viva la Vida.