God knoweth what things ye have need of even before you ask

In my patriarchal blessing, it told me to memorize 2 chapters of scripture. A few years ago I finally memorized the first one, and amazing things happened as a result. About a month ago, I kept getting the feeling that I should memorize the second chapter: Hebrews 11. And so it began. For a few weeks, I used the time set aside for scripture study to memorize the chapter. It is an interesting chapter. It is a chapter about faith. For the first little while, I memorized verses about Moses, Abraham, Enoch, etc. Mighty, prominent men in the scriptures who worked miracles and great events through their faith. And then one day, I came to a verse near the end. The first half of the verse continued the theme of miracles being performed through faith, but halfway through, it took a drastic turn. It started talking about people who were tortured, stoned, sawn asunder, etc. It spoke of all these people who were severely afflicted, and yet stayed true to their faith in God. Each day as I read or spoke that verse aloud, it brought tears to my eyes, maybe it was the juxtoposition with the other men and women spoken of earlier in the chapter. Needless to say, I thought about it alot. I wondered why these verses of sorrow and trial were connected so closely to the other examples. I came to the conclusion that these people, "of whom the world was not worthy' were pillars and examples of faith just as powerfully as Moses, Abraham, Enoch, and all the others were. Here were people who had sore trials and sorrows heaped upon them, who by any of the world's standards, should "curse God and die." And yet they remained faithful. They did not let their tribulations rob them of their trust in God. As I studied and memorized this chapter, it was a powerful experience.

A few weeks after I finished memorizing it, I found out something that broke my heart. A good friend of mine from my high school days has been experiencing what seems to be an endless supply of tribulation. Three years ago, her son was born with a heart defect that required an almost immediate transplant. But even after that, he has continued to spend most of his life in the hospital with strange illnesses and life-threatening diseases that leave doctors puzzled. She keeps a blog so that family and friends can be easily informed of the latest happenings with her son....whether they are still in the hospital, or if they've gone home until the next time (which is never too far away). Her husband is in medical school and they live far away from family.

She was 7 months pregnant, and she wrote a post that broke everyone's heart. She found out she has thyroid cancer. Here is a modern day example of someone the world would look at and say, "Curse God and die." Because of her son's transplant, there are people all over the world that are aware of her and everything that she's going through. Several of them made comments to the extent that they can't believe this is happening. Hasn't she been through enough already. So off she went, getting surgery, crossing her fingers her son wouldn't require hospitilization while she recovered, wondering what the outcome will be of all the testing, hoping both her baby and herself will survive the surgery, wondering how much the cancer can grow in the two months before she can get treatment.....You can see how people would look at her and think, "Enough already! Give the poor girl a break."

My heart broke for her. This was the girl who was always quick to smile, my running partner and therefore confidant of all things cruch-related. Never did either of us imagine that this was what awaited her. As I thought of her and prayed for her, my thoughts kept returning to the scriptures I had just memorized. Because of all the experiences with her son, there were people all over the country who knew of her, who followed her life through her blog, and who know waited anxiously to see the outcome of this new development. And she did not stumble. She held on to her faith. She stood as a witness that no matter what, she would trust in the Lord. No matter what.

As I pondered about her circumstances and these scriptures, I kept feeling a desire to send her a message. And so I did. She responded. She talked about how my message and thoughts were something that she needed to hear, and said that they had helped her. I knew that I had been an instrument of the Lord in giving her a message of love. I was in awe of how the Lord had prepared me so that I could do it. Weeks before either of us knew this was coming, He prompted me to study and memorize these scriptures I'd put off for years. I didn't know that He'd need me to use it to bless her life. But I'm so glad I followed that prompting. I'm so glad that the Lord was aware, that he knew in advance, exactly how to succor this sweet daughter of his as she struggled under tribulations that many thought would be too much to bear.

Answering My Own Prayers

I have someone in my life that I love, someone who has struggled for several years, someone who is unable to fulfill their dreams because of choices they've made, someone who might have given up hope on themselves, someone whose life is more often filled with sorrow than joy. About a year ago, something happened that left me bawling all night. I've shed many tears for this person over the years because of everything they've been through, but this night was different. My heart ached so badly for them, for all that they were missing in life, all that they'd suffered, all that they had given up. I made a commitment that night. I knew that God was the only one with the ability to work a miracle in this person's life, and I resolved that I would petition Him and pull down His power in this person's behalf in any means available to me. I have been praying and fasting on a daily and weekly basis. I try to be specific in my pleadings rather than simply asking God to bless them. A few weeks ago, I started asking God to surround this person with people of good influence who would pull them back to God. This was the thing that I felt would be most powerful at this point in the person's life. I didn't think much of it when a certain idea kept coming to my mind. This specific idea had filtered through a few times before, but I had never committed to it, maybe out of fear or maybe out of doubt. But this time, I made a decision that I was going to act on this impression that kept pressing upon me. It would take a lot of preparation, it would involve a form of directness that had always resulted in bad results previously, and I was more than a little scared to carry it out, but I was committed. I felt really good after making the decision and knew that it was something God wanted me to do. A few days later as I was reiterating my plea that people of good influence would come into this person's life and pull them back to God, my heart froze with a spiritual realization. It was me. I was the person I had been praying for.

My Newest Epiphany

Lately I've just felt myself being overtaken with negativity. I've felt negative about the things I need to do for church, negative about the things I need to keep my house up and running, negative about my marriage, negative about myself, NEGATIVE. I was furtively praying and trying to stop myself, correct myself, but it all seemed to no avail. One morning, I woke up and thought to myself, "I don't want to get out of bed. What's waiting for me...give the girls a bath, do all three of their hair, shower, get dressed and do my hair, the dishes need to be done, John is going to watch the football game for four hours, I should vacuum, I need to write those letters that have been haunting my mind for the last month, I don't even know what I'll make for dinner,etc...." Seriously, I didn't want to get out of bed. I didn't feel like there was going to be anything in my day that I'd enjoy doing. Isn't that awful? I thought it was awful. I knew this was the path I'd been going down, so I wasn't surprised to find myself here. But I didn't WANT to be here. I didn't want to be missing all the joy in my life. I didn't want to be a complainer and a whiner. I didn't want to be so ungrateful. But as much as I didn't want all those things, I didn't know how to fix it. I could get up and fake it, put a big smile on my face and infuse the day with false cheerfulness, and no one else would be the wiser (I'm an excellent actress as long as no one is filming). But I'd feel exactly the same inside, wake up the next day feeling the same, and have to start the charade again. I didn't know what to do. But, I did get out of bed. After a lecture from my husband, I decided to slow things down that morning. I let the girls play long in the bathtub while I read an uplifting book. I let the dishes sit in the sink a little longer. I kind of let life unfold in what seemed like slow motion. And it was a little better. But I knew that rock in my heart was still there. That night, we had a church meeting to attend. It wasn't exactly where I wanted to be, but knew we should go. When the second speaker began by asking how many of us were feeling joy in our life, my heart tuned in. It was a great talk about how we can choose to just live a mundane life or how we can find the joy in it. I took notes and went home with a stronger desire to stop feeling how I was. But still, I had no concrete way of accomplishing it. The next day was Sunday. I fasted and prayed a lot that day that God would help me. And I feel like I got an answer. A little over two years ago, there was a week where two major things happened. First, I found out I was pregnant with my fourth child (my others were 4, 2, and about 10 months old). Second, I got called to oversee the young women (12-18 years) in our church. This would involve lots of meetings and teaching on Sunday, as well as an additional activity each week. It would involve a week in the summer spent at camp. It would mean planning, preparing, and executing all these things. It also meant an emotional load as I carried the responsibility for the well-being of these girls. This meant prayers, notes, late night phone conversations, birthday treats, etc. It was a big job to accept. Anyway, since that time, I have felt this overwhelming pressure to organize my time, to not waste it, to be so careful so that I could accomplish all that was asked of me. Seconds, not minutes, have become precious to me. In order to get it all done, I feel like I always have to be mindful. There is always a running list of tasks in my head and I'm constantly figuring out how I can possibly do it all. Then I started homeschooling my second grader for the majority of school. I know, I seem crazy! But it was one of those things where I knew it was right, and if so, God would provide the way.

You get the picture. Gone are the days of boredom and wondering what to do. And all of these things that I'm doing are good. I chose these things. I chose to be a mother. I chose to have 4 children close together. I chose to accept the task of caring for the young women in the ward. I chose to homeschool. I wanted to do all these things. But suddenly I found myself resentful of the things I had chosen, the things I knew I wanted to do. That bothered me. I knew if I was able to go back and do it all again, I would make the same choices. But something wasn't right. Somewhere along the way, I lost myself in the "tasks". I lost myself in the "task" of running my home, instead of finding joy in serving the people in my home. I lost myself in the "task" of the young women, instead of finding joy in serving the sweet, beautiful girls. I lost myself in the "task" of marriage, instead of finding joy in spending my life with a man I love. I lost myself in the "task" of homeschooling, instead of finding joy in teaching my child.

My life hasn't changed. The dishes still need to be done. Dinner will still have to materialize. I still have meetings and activities and things to do with the young women. I still have schoolwork to complete each day with my son. Those things haven't changed. But I have found the answer to HOW to get out of my negative state. I need to go back to the people, how much I love them, and remember why I WANT to do the things I do. I'm excited about that. It is something I can hold onto.

This morning, life was crazy. We wanted to go to the library, but we had schoolwork, and jobs, and books to find... I found myself getting negative, feeling upset. But I stopped. I thought to myself, "Whatever. If we don't get to the library today, whatever." And it worked. I chilled out and quit stressing, put the baby down for a nap, and cleaned my house and did my tasks with a happy heart. It was wonderful.

Bubble Bath...

Last night I was getting in the bath, wishing once again that I had some bubble bath. Everytime I take a bath, I think the same thing. This has been going on for well over a year. Why, you might ask, don't I buy myself some bubble bath? Last night, I finally asked myself the same question. I go to the store all the time, I am the one primarily responsible for keeping our house stocked, why in the world did I not have bubble bath? It only took a moment for the ridiculous excuse to come to light. A long time ago, on a dark and chilly night, I got into the bath and thought to myself how much nicer this bath would be if only there was bubble bath. Maybe, I thought, someone will buy me some for my birthday or Christmas or Mother's Day, or some other holiday. And so, here I am, a year later, waiting for the inspiration to strike one of my beloved family members to buy me bubble bath. Meanwhile, each time I take a bath I lament the absense of the sweet smelling bubbles.

Does that not just sound absolutely ridiculous? Dang woman! Stop waiting around for someone to do it and go out and get what you want!

But the worst part, is that I find myself doing that with things far more important than bubble bath. I find myself doing that with love, with relationships, with dreams, with goals. I find myself wanting things to be different, and yet I do nothing but sit and wait for someone else to make it happen. I am responsible for myself. I have the power to make things happen. It is time to stop waiting for inspiration to strike someone else, and do what I can to change things.

Let's just hope that I still know how to do that.

Finding the Holy

Awhile ago, I read something about how motherhood is holy. The first presidency said, "Motherhood is near to divinity. It is the highest, holiest service to be assumed by mankind." As each of my children have entered the world, I've felt that holiness. There are few things holier than holding a spirit who has just entered the world. I've felt it at other times too. It might be a night when all my children are sleeping and I go to kiss them goodnight. Sometimes I feel it when my children are overflowing with love for me. There are definitely a lot of times I've felt that being a mother is a holy service. Until a few months ago though, all those times were related to times when mothering was peaceful, easy, sweet, etc. When my children were happy, calm, and loving. But this thing I read really made me think. What about all the times when things were hard? What about the times when my 3 year old is throwing a massive tantrum? What about the times when she doesn't want to go to nursery? What about the times when my 7 year old is whining and complaining about insignificant stuff? What about the times when I have to go fulfill my church responsibilities and I have 4 children running out the door crying because mommy is leaving? What about the times when my kids don't want to eat their dinner? What about the times when I'm getting up for the 10th time in the middle of the night? What about the times when my 5 year old doesn't want to go to dance class? What about the times when I think I'm going to go crazy if I see another dirty dish or load of laundry? What about the times when I'm trying to pay bills or accomplish some other task only to have a 1 year old climbing all over me and throwing paper and envelopes all over the floor? You get the picture. There are a lot of times when mothering is hard. There are a lot of times when as a mother, you don't know what to do. There are a lot of times when mothering stretches you way past what you thought were your limits.


"Motherhood is near to divinity. It is the highest, holiest service to be assumed by mankind." Did this only apply to the easy times, the times where it was easy for anyone around to feel the holiness that can be a part of motherhood? Or was there holiness to be found in every second of motherhood? Was there holiness lurking in tantrums, in messes, in disciplining, in mistakes and bad choices? I thought about this a lot. First, it was simple pondering, and then it turned into asking, and then it turned into seeking. I found myself uttering over and over a simple prayer of "Help me find the holiness" when I had a child in a meltdown, when I felt like I had zero patience left in dealing with a tired, whiny child, when I felt overwhelmed in maintaining our home. And I can now say with all the conviction in my being that there is holiness in those moments. Maybe even more holiness than the moments that instantly come to mind when we think of motherhood being holy. But what I've learned is that it only presents itself when I'm seeking for it, and responding in a way that allows it to come to light.

"Help me find the holiness." Can I just say how much that simple plea has changed me? I am a different mother. I can't give you a big life-changing experience that happened with my children as a result of this. But motherhood is not about the large events. It is about the details. The other day, I was taking my three year old to nursery. She was tired. She didn't want to go by herself. I was supposed to go to my class. I told her she could come with me, but reminded her there wouldn't be any toys, etc. She didn't want to go to class with me. She didn't want to stay in nursery. She didn't want to leave nursery. She wanted what she couldn't have: she wanted me to stay in nursery with her. And after a few minutes of this going on, my 20 month old was starting to follow her lead. I was trying everything I could think of, nothing was working, and I was getting frustrated. I found myself instinctively asking, "Help me find the holiness." Immediately, immediately my whole attitude, feelings, thoughts, everything, changed. I changed. Nothing changed with my tired, insatiable 3 year old. She didn't suddenly decide to stay and be happy about it. She was in the exact same place. But I wasn't. I had changed. I knelt down with her filled with love instead of frustration, and reminded her of all the things she liked in nursery. And THEN she changed. She went right in and didn't even look back.

Like I said, it was a simple experience. But it felt like the final straw on the heap of evidence that made me realize the answer is yes. There is holiness in those moments. And if I seek God's help, I can find it.

To Save

To Save:
* to salvage: save from ruin, destruction, or harm
* to bring into safety
* to deliver: save from sins
*to spare/refrain from harming


Last night I lay in bed with my mind whirling. Just before bed I was reading a book that made me reflect on how much our lives can be changed and altered by negative experiences in our past, oftentimes experiences that were entirely out of our control or at the control of someone else. As I say my prayers each night, the people in need of prayers is lengthy. A girl who lacks the affections of attentive mature parents. A girl with good parents that just aren't around enough to let their good influence be felt. A woman struggling in the depths of depression. Kids who come to church and sit in the foyer each week because their parents are inactive. Girls who were sexually abused and suffer with ramifications of their worth. Boys and men who have lost themselves to addictions they can't conquer. Grown men who have lost confidence because they've lost jobs or wives. Children suffering from the divorce or desertion of their parents. People grieving the loss of a loved one. Teenagers who feel overwhelmingly alone. There are so many people suffering. At times like last night, it is overwhelming. I think to myself, "How can it be done? How can all these people ever be saved? How can the overcome all the effects of negative situations or actions? How can they be whole again?" Last night I wept as these thoughts and these people were running through my mind. But as I lay there, the Spirit bore witness to my heart that it CAN be done. They could be saved. Through our Savior, Jesus Christ. I don't think that title of Savior has ever gripped me before as it did last night. Not only does Christ through His atonement have the power to save us from physical death, but He has the power to save us from our burdens, to save us from the effects of sins, whether they be our own sins or the sins of others. For so many of our sufferings, the world offers little hope in the way of saving. The world merely offers hope that we'll be able to cope well. But the Savior offers to save us, from everything. His atonement gave Him the power and ability to do just that. He said, "Come unto me, all ye that labour, and are heavy-laden, and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28)." It doesn't seem possible. It doesn't seem possible that all of us can be saved from all of this, by something so simple as coming unto Him. But I know it is true. I know that more than anything else, He is our Savior.

Small and Simple Things

"Behold I say unto you that by small and simple things are great things brought to pass" (Alma 37:6)

I had a special experience today that touched my heart. Over the last month or so, my mind was continually drawn to one of my Laurels. This was a girl who I thought the world of. She has an amzing personality, good sense of humor, awesome talents, beautiful, etc. But as I watched her the past month, I sensed that there was something going on behind the scenes. There were times I'd look at her face, and I saw the darkness I've felt at different times in my life reflecting back at me. It felt like one of those times spoken of in a blessing, where the depression I'd experienced would give me the empathy to help someone else suffering through it. After awhile, I felt a strong prompting that I needed to write her a letter. I'm 28 years old, and you'd think I'd be more mature, but I was scared. I get scared butting into other people's private lives, but my calling has been good in pushing me to do things even though I might be scared. So I sat down and wrote her a long letter. I told her what I suspected, shared experiences, told her how amazing and special she was, and that if I was wrong, she could just write it off as a crazy example that Sister Roberts loved her. I also attached a great talk by President Benson: Do Not Despair. It has great suggestions on how to cope with depression. Anyway, I was so nervous to give it to her, but I did. She didn't say anything to me about it, and I didn't feel prompted to bring it up. I had no idea how she took it. Well today, I heard from her. She wrote,

"I don't think you realize how very right you are. In the letter you mentioned that the Lord sends us angels to help us. You are my angel. I remember when you were first called to be the YW president that I had this feeling that you were going to be really important. As time went on, I couldn't help but notice our many, many similarities. Then, reading your letter, it all became very clear. God put us into each other's lives for a reason. For years I have been so confused as to why I couldn't just be happy like everyone else, like I used to be. Part of me know all along what it was, but I didn't want to accept it. I didn't want to be able to put a name on it, because that makes it seem more powerful, more permanent. But I know that you're right.... Reading and hearing your testimony and seeing your strength now gives me hope that I have never found in anything else....Now that I've finally accepted what I'm up against, it's been a lot easier to try and do something about it. Even in these few short weeks there has been a difference, however small."

As I read this, I was so touched. Heavenly Father loves this daughter so much. He knew her situation, when most everyone around her was blind to it, and He opened my eyes, that I might minister to her in the most simple of ways. As I've thought about it, I've pondered about the fact that I could have easily shrugged off my promptings to reach out to this girl. I could have easily chickened out and tried something else I was more comfortable with. And what a tragedy that would have been. I don't think we realize how big of an impact simple kindnesses towards others can have. I am so grateful that I followed the promptings, and hope that I always can. I know that Heavenly Father is aware of us. He knows what we have need of. He does send angels into our lives to strengthen and comfort us. And most of the time, those angels are the people walking among us. I am so grateful for a Heavenly Father who can lead and guide me and magnify my efforts that I might be His servant and do His word.

Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things; yea, behold, many mighty miracles we have wrought...for which we will praise his name forever” (Alma 26:12).

Down Time

Our nights are usually crazy trying to fit everything in before bedtime so the kids don't wake up tired. The other night was such a blessing though. We had about an hour where we were just chilling. I was sitting on the couch, C. snuggled up so he could tell me about his day, the girls were dancing to some sweet tunes. Even K. was joining in, trying to spin and put her arms out pretty like she was one of the big girls. Pretty soon, C. was showing us the steps he was learning in school (one, two, three, bow...One, two, three, stop). Then it turned into A. and C. dancing together and me showing them some basic lifts (John was wondering if he needed to step in at this point, but the look on my face was enough to tell him he had better not :). It was just so nice. One of those nights where I look around, surrounded by people I love more than life, and realize how blessed I am. I wish I could have bottled up the evening and saved it to enjoy again and again.

What is Love?

My sister and I always joke about how different our husbands are from most of the other guys we dated back in the day. When we were young and in high school, the stereotypical displays of affection scored big points. There were dozens and dozens of love notes, flowers, obviously well-thought out dates, etc. I have to admit too that we seemed quite skilled at manipulating (don't know about that being the nicest word) our followers into producing these love tokens (we knew how to be clear about what we wanted, and we got it :). Fast forward to now. I've been married for almost 9 years, we have four kids, a dog, a house to take care of, a fridge to keep full, a sink to keep empty, a job to bring home the bacon, some seriously time-consuming church responsibilities, etc. Going into our marriage, I knew John would never win any awards for "leading romantic man." All of his love notes were occasion cards, just not the occasion we were celebrating. My valentines card was a "Get Well" card. For my birthday I received a "Sympathy" one. And it was rare that John actually signed his name. Most of my love notes from the time were from "Travis." The first time John tried to give me a flower (bought from a lady on the pier), his approach was so comical, I seriously thought he bought it as a joke for his friend Todd who happened to be with us. I think the whole event ended with him throwing the rose in the ocean. Our first kiss....I won't even go there. Let's just say we both agree it would win awards for "Least Romantic Kiss."

But here is the point. I don't have a Costco membership. John signed up with his mom before we were ever dating, and it never seemed to be a problem until the last year or so. We liked going to Costco together, it was kind of fun. But now with all the demands on our time, it is really hard to find a night we can squeeze it in. I know we need to fix this, but that is another story. So the other night I ran out of milk (I hate that I'm in that stage of life where I run out of milk). Considering everything else I needed at Costco, I decided we better make a trip. I asked John if we could pick him up for lunch and head to the Costco by his work. Nice hubby that he is, he agreed. Well, lunchtime was coming and he called. He said he'd just meet us at home, we'd go to the one down here, and that way he'd be able to help me unload it all before heading back to work. Now THAT is romantic. The kind of romantic that doesn't win awards, but leaves a bigger mark on my heart than flowery words and plants. Right before he called, I was thinking about how much I was not looking forward to unloading everything and putting it away.

We get programmed in our culture to assess love based on the things the world has deemed "romantic." But really...what is more romantic? What is a better indicator that our spouse loves us? I love my husband. I love that he changes diapers, that he does the dishes WHILE he's watching the kids so I can take care of the Young Women. I love that he goes to work everyday even though there have been times it was total misery. I love that he will drop anything to be with me when I need him. I love that not only did he not get upset with me when I backed into his car, but he felt bad that I was so upset. I love that he shares the computer and the tv :) I love that he never complains when we are having another crappy dinner. I love that he lets me put my cold feet on him at night. I love that he'll give me his jacket even though it is my own dang fault that I didn't bring one. I love that he pushes me to do things that are in my best interest. I love that he never complains about how much I like to hang out with my family. I love that he takes out the trash. I love that he'll get up in time to take Carston to school every day. I love that when he's all out of options to lift my spirits, he never fails to resort to tackling or tickling me. I'm so blessed to have such an amazing husband who loves me in the ways that truly matter.
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1. What other grown man climbs on the M&M in New York? 2. Is it really that funny when you get in my shot of the shower I like? 3. Why in the world was it so important for me to get on your shoulders? 4. I don't think any other 30 year old man had as much fun as you did in the subway-nor was there another wife more embarrassed :) 5. Do you see my frustration in trying to get a picture of us we could actually use?













(Chelsey-John no longer has legitimacy when he calls you a "poser")

Itching for a change

I'm in a funk. I think it is because we had an offer on a house I REALLY REALLY wanted! It was perfect for my plans of part-time homeschooling to start next fall. RIGHT next to a school. It had an AWESOME layout: all the bedrooms on the top floor, nice open space on the main with two large family rooms, etc. It was also in need of serious updating: I know that would be a drawback for most people, but it is a serious bonus in my book. Anyway, it was a short sale, we had an offer on it, the only offer, and they detained foreclosure because of our offer. So we wait. We were prepared to wait...that's what "short" sale means right? Waiting. Well, come to find out, while the sellers have the house up for sale, they are trying to negotiate with the bank for a loan modification so they can lower their payment and stay in their house. So things are not looking in our favor. I'd do the same thing if I was in their position, but I'm still bummed. I know the Lord will lead us to the right place at the right time. I know that without a doubt. But I'm still bummed. I was really trying not to get my hopes up about that house...but...obviously I did. So now I'm in a funk. And I'm itching to get out of it. I've been drawn to finding great remodeling blogs. Things that will inspire me. But instead of cheering me up, I think it is having the opposite effect. I don't have a new house to remodel. It would just be silly to spend money remodeling this one if we are leaving. I have already organized my house from top to bottom, so that form of appeasement is out. The only place left is my garage and it is sooooo cold that isn't even a realistic option. What to do.... Shopping comes to mind, but I don't want to spend money out of boredom and I've already hit all the after-Christmas clearances. Ideas?