When You Feel Like Life Has Broken You Down

Like most of you, I'd never given much thought to how caterpillars turn into butterflies. I suppose I'd assumed a caterpillar went into its chrysalis, gradually transformed into a butterfly, and came out when it was finished.

But I recently heard a story on NPR about caterpillar metamorphosis and learned I was completely wrong. When you dissect a chrysalis, you don't find a caterpillar in the process of turning into a butterfly. It's just full of... goo. 

Caterpillars don't go into their chrysalis and immediately start sprouting wings. The first thing that happens is that their body breaks down. Their organs dissolve. Tissues die. The expert interviewed on the radio jokingly called it "caterpillar soup." 

It turns out that metamorphosis is less of an evolution and more of a complete demolition and rebuild. And the crazy part is, science doesn't really understand how it all works: we just know that somehow, that mush of cells and structures gets rearranged into a butterfly.

As we're rounding out the second winter of this pandemic that we all surely thought would be over by now, and as we think about the New Year's resolutions we're already failing at (or never felt motivated enough to attempt in the first place), we can all learn a few things from caterpillars.

First lesson: big transformations are messy. We're wired to like small change. Change that's straightforward and linear, where every day we get a little bit better. But there's a limit to how much self-improvement can be made that way.

Can we acquire new habits bit by bit? Sure. Make small tweaks to our behavior? Absolutely. But when we're talking about major overhauls to our character, things get a lot more uncomfortable and uncertain. Big changes are going to involve some dismantling first. We've simply got to make room for the new creature that's going to be rebuilt in our place.

That's easy to say, but hard to remember when you're in the middle of a heartbreaking loss or a devastating crisis. As Christians, we believe that trials exist to refine us! As optimists, we want to say that what doesn't kill us makes us stronger! But the fact is, you can't emerge a butterfly without spending at least some time (and sometimes it's a long time) feeling like caterpillar soup.

Second lesson: we don't know exactly how metamorphosis works. Going from sludge to breathtaking creature isn't the kind of thing there's a manual for. It might seem impossible to us, but fortunately we're not left to our own devices. 

If you're in the "caterpillar soup" stage of your transformation, there's not much anyone can do or say to make things easier right now, but just you wait. Jesus Christ is the One who knows how to eventually rebuild you into a butterfly. You can rely on Him.

I don't know how He does it, but I've seen it in my own life and the lives of people I hope to be like one day. And I know He'll do it for you. Just hang on.

If you're wondering what Jesus can do for your life or how you could connect with Him better, the author invites you to start exploring that question here. Even (and maybe especially) if you feel like caterpillar soup.

Click to Share:

Read More »

The Hallmark of Christian Discipleship

On Sunday, I was asked to give a talk in church (in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, members of the congregation take turns giving sermons instead of a clergy member) and decided to post it here for your reading pleasure. Enjoy!

One reason why I think our prophet President Nelson has insisted that we use the full name of our church — the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints — instead of the nickname "Mormon" is that he wants us to be perfectly clear about our primary identity: first and foremost, we are disciples of Jesus Christ.

The Cost of Discipleship

The word 'disciple' comes from the same Latin root as the word 'discipline.' Think of a discipline as a subject area you might study in school, like psychology or engineering. 

In order to be a successful student of one of these disciplines, you know that there are certain formulas, concepts, and ways of thinking you're going to have to work hard to master.

Likewise, the word 'disciple' suggests practice, learning, self-control, and working toward a high and specific standard. The kind of discipleship we're called to is more than just belief, acceptance, or agreement. It's actively following Jesus Christ.

The Hallmark of a Disciple

I've taken college courses described as "rigorous," but no discipline I've ever studied is as exacting of the discipline of the gospel of Jesus Christ. The scriptures tell us we need to serve God "with all our heart, might, mind, and strength" (Doctrine and Covenants 4: 2, see also Luke 10: 27 and Deuteronomy 6:5.)

You can't get more rigorous than that.

Because discipleship is meant to fully encompass us, it can sometimes feel overwhelming. We want to follow the Savior's example, but that's a tall order for someone as imperfect as me (and I imagine, as imperfect as you, too.)

That's where the Holy Spirit comes in. It's how God helps each of us know what to do, at what time, and in what order so that we can become our best selves, one day at a time. 

Being able to recognize and act on those promptings is the hallmark of a disciple of Jesus Christ.

One Step Forward with Faith

Between the cold weather and COVID, this has felt like a never-ending winter. And maybe like some of you, I've struggled with feeling like a poorly-cast Bill Murray in Groundhog Day.

The idea of shaking off this funk was so overwhelming that one day I just leveled with God in prayer: I needed Him to tell the one single thing I should do next, because I couldn't handle anything more complicated than that.

I finished my prayer and didn't feel anything in particular, so I thought about standing in front of God and visualizing what he'd say in response.

"Pray," came a thought into my mind. 

Still unsure whether that was an inspired answer or just the first church word my brain supplied, I knelt down to pray again. And as soon as my knees hit the floor, the lyrics of a Primary song teaching kids to pray popped into my head: "I begin by saying 'Dear Heavenly Father,' / I thank him for blessings He sends."

The answer to my prayer seemed so simple and yet so profound: I needed to focus on gratitude.

I can't guarantee that the answer to your Lockdown Blahs will be the same as mine, but I do know if I hadn't followed the first direction to pray then I wouldn't have received the second one. 

And some of the time (if not most of the time) that's what disciples need to do: take the next step in faith without knowing the whole way.

Using the Atonement of Jesus Christ

When I think about discipleship, I think about the New Testament account of Jesus washing the feet of his disciples.

At a basic level, this was a fantastic object lesson about the importance of serving others. In John 13: 15 Jesus teaches, "For I have given unto you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you."

But there's also a deeper meaning, one Christ said the twelve disciples wouldn't understand until later on (John 13: 7.) He hadn't suffered for our sins in Gethsemane yet nor had He been crucified and resurrected, but this foot-washing was foreshadowing those very events.

Peter initially refused to let the Savior wash his feet, quite naturally horrified it wasn't happening the other way around. But when Jesus said to him, "If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me," Peter responded, "Lord, not my feet only, but my hands and my head." (John 13: 8-9.)

Unless we accept Christ's atoning sacrifice into our lives to cleanse us, we simply cannot be His disciples. There is no other way. 

Peter may not have understood everything that was going on, but he knew enough to accept what Christ was offering with his whole might, mind, and strength. Because that's what a disciple is: someone who trusts God and makes full use of the Atonement to repent, partner with the Savior, and become better every day. 

Where Do You Think You Fall?

At the last General Conference, President Nelson gave a talk called "Let God Prevail." In it, he asked some questions that can help us gauge our current commitment to discipleship:

• Are you willing to let God prevail in your life?
• Are you willing to let God be the most important influence in your life?
• Will you allow His words, His commandments, and His covenants to influence what you do each day?
• Will you allow His voice to take priority over any other?
• Are you willing to let whatever He needs you to do take precedence over every other ambition?
• Are you willing to have your will swallowed up in His?

Being a disciple of Christ, as you can see from that list of questions, is a pretty rigorous discipline. It isn't easy and there's no shortcut or substitute for small and simple repeated acts of faith. 

But as President Nelson promises, "when [our] greatest desire is to let God prevail... so many decisions become easier. So many issues become non-issues." And the blessings of discipleship — namely, peace in this life and eternal life in the world to come — are well worth it.

If you liked this post, find "Topics You'll Find Here" (in the sidebar on computers and at the bottom of screen for mobile devices) and click on "latter day saint" to read more!

Click to Share:

Read More »

A General Conference Weekend to Remember

Do you ever cruise along doing an amazing job at life, and then in the middle of congratulating yourself you realize you've also forgotten something very basic?

That was me last weekend.

I was so busy arranging the General Conference Snacks™ and getting out the kids' coloring pages and moving the furniture around to give everyone a good view of the TV that it wasn't until conference had already started at noon that I realize I'd forgotten to feed everyone.

So we all had popcorn and chocolate milk for lunch. Don't judge.

No one seemed to mind.

Twice a year, my family sits down to watch general conference, a weekend-long event where the prophet and apostles at the head of our church speak on different spiritual topics.

We always look forward to conference, but this year was a definite upgrade for us in terms of living room seating.

We got new living room furniture a few months ago. Our old couches were so worn-out they looked dirty even when they weren't (but they usually were,) plus they were too small for the whole family to sit down at the same time (even before one broke a spring and the kids started calling it "the pit of doom.")

This time we were able to get through conference with no one fighting about seats!

I mean, there was still plenty of fighting. But not over where to sit.

Taking a silly break during conference.

Because of social distancing, general conference didn't take place in the 21,000-seat conference center in Salt Lake City like usual. Instead, it was broadcast from an empty auditorium in a church office building with all the speakers seated carefully 6 feet apart.

That was pretty different, especially when no one chuckled at the little jokes the speakers sometimes inserted in their talks.

But you know what? It still felt the same. Just like when Phillip and I went to church in French Canada and didn't understand the words, or when we suddenly had to do church at home when services were cancelled due to COVID, it made me realize all over again that what I love about church isn't in the ritual or the familiarity; it's in the principles of the gospel of Jesus Christ.

This conference also marked a special anniversary for us as a church.

If you don't know, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints doesn't see itself as a product of the reformation, but as a restoration of the church Jesus set up in the Bible.

The events that led up to the restoring of that organization began 200 years ago, and in honor of the occasion our prophet released an official statement about our church's beginnings. If our church was a superhero, this would be its origin story in a nutshell.

I think some people were expecting this general conference to focus more on COVID-19. After all, we are kind of in the middle of a worldwide pandemic right now.

It was, of course, mentioned but it wasn't the main focus of any speaker's talk. Instead, many of the talks seemed to be about what will bring us lasting peace in turmoil.

In fact I noticed this theme running through several of the talks: Jesus is the master healer. He loves to fix what's broken beyond repair. I can't think of a more important message for a hurting world right now. My favorite talk was this 10-minute listen on the subject (watch for my favorite quote at 4:03.)


My kids listened to conference quietly (I can lie to you about it because you weren't there) while they colored, but I was told several times they were unhappy about the selection of coloring pages I provided.

Apparently, they are now coloring snobs. Every one of them, even the 3-year-old, turned up their noses at anything that didn't resemble an adult coloring page and said it was "too basic."

(Pardon me while I find my white gloves and fetch m'lady some fancy coloring material that won't offend her delicate sensibilities...)

And of course, there was the kids' most beloved conference tradition of all: General Conference Snacks.

Before conference, I lay out an assortment of treats with pictures of the speakers on them. Every time a new person gets up to speak, the kids find the right picture and divvy out the attached snack.

Theoretically, this helps them pay attention. In practice, it's sort of a trade-off. They listen, but only after the first few minutes of every talk which is completely drowned out by their intense debate about how to divide each snack fairly. 

My 6-year-old, clearly living his best life.

When we passed out Elder Holland's SweeTARTS, my son looked at them quizzically and asked, "Do you suck on these or bite them?" 

Luckily, the people at SweeTARTS had already anticipated that question and printed instructions directly on the candies:

Apparently, there had been some confusion.

We also pass out blank slips of paper to every family member who can spell and ask them to take a few notes on each talk. We collect them with the speaker's picture in a Ziploc bag to review later.

My 8-year-old did a great job taking notes.

On Saturday evening, President Nelson called for a special fast to ease the suffering caused by COVID-19. While I fully supported the idea and was happy to participate, for a moment I was terrified he would say "starting tomorrow."

Because we still had a table full of snacks! The kids would revolt! There was a tin of homemade chocolate chip cookies hanging in the balance. 

Luckily for the kids, the special fast was designated for Good Friday, so their ability to enjoy Elder Cook's cookies the following day wasn't impacted.

Meet Elder Cookies. I mean, Elder Cook.

By the end, the kids were getting antsy. The 3- and 5-year-old were making monster truck noises while crashing a colored pencil into a tape dispenser from opposite sides of the room. Extensive conversations about what parts of the new couches you can and can't put your butt on were had.

But in spite of all that, they really were listening!

The next day I was helping my 8-year-old put together a quiz for Family Home Evening and I asked her, "One of the talks told a story about someone who lost something in the ocean. Do you remember what it was?"

Before she could answer, the 3-year-old yelled out from the other room, "Glasses!"

They can be taught!

I'm grateful for all the inspiration and hope I got out of this weekend. I can't wait to go back and re-read the talks.

I'm grateful for the prophet at the head of our church, and for the guidance we receive on how to teach our families the gospel (especially since we may be at home doing this on our own for quite some time.)

Most of all, I'm grateful for Jesus Christ, whose message is simple enough for a 3-year-old to grasp but also miraculous enough to study for a lifetime.

That's why I love conference: it's all of that, topped off with a buffet of snacks that lasts all weekend. Life is good.

Click to Share:

Read More »

Review of Stella Nova: A Christian Family Board Game

Raise your hand if you love Jesus and like free stuff!

I'm glad I have your attention because I'm super-excited for this giveaway of Stella Nova, a family board game that is fun and celebrates the true meaning of Christmas.

As a Christian I look forward to celebrating the birth of my Savior every year, but by mid-November I'm drowning in a glossy full-color avalanche of hot holiday toy catalogs and... it's easy to lose sight of why we're buying all those gifts in the first place.

That's why I was thrilled when Christian Haven offered to send me a copy of Stella Nova.

Stella Nova is a Christian family board game — the name means "New Star" in Latin.

With a combination of strategy, luck, and knowledge about Bible trivia, players race their game pieces across a historically accurate map of the Holy Land to be the first Wise Man to reach the Christ child in Bethlehem.

Along the way, players face obstacles like thieves and sandstorms, and everyone has to use their supplies wisely to make it from one city to the next without running out.

Our family has played and enjoyed many board games that follow a similar strategy/luck formula, but the most unique and meaningful part of Stella Nova, in my opinion, was the trivia cards that get you through the game.

There are two kinds of trivia questions: geography or Bible. The ancient history and geography ones were really hard, but my teenagers enjoyed the challenge (and apparently know more about what's where in the Middle East than I do.)

I stuck to the Bible trivia questions, which were all about the Nativity story. I loved that the Bible verse with the answer was on each card, and when I saw that we pulled out our scriptures and made them part of the game.

We made the rule that the younger kids were allowed to look up the answer if they didn't know it, and as a result, my 8-year-old was legit reading from the Bible while we played and having fun doing it, which makes this game well worth it, in my eyes.

The game was rated for ages 8 and up, which seemed pretty appropriate to me since reading and a little bit of strategy is required.

The 5-year-old couldn't play by himself, but he wanted to be on my team and enjoyed rolling the die. The 8-year-old caught on quickly and actually ended up winning the game.

Game play lasted about an hour and 45 minutes with 5 players — of course, we would have finished sooner were it not for the genetic condition all my children seem to have inherited where they need to be reminded every single time it's their turn. (We've been struggling with this problem for years and I'm convinced there is no cure.)

My advice when playing Stella Nova for the first time is to read the directions ahead of time and be prepared to summarize. Even though the rules aren't complicated, the directions take a long time to read and people will get antsy if you try to do it when everyone is already sitting at the table.

Unless you bring snacks, which in retrospect is also a good idea.

Picture a bowl of M&Ms here and you've got a decent game night.

Stella Nova was easy enough for my 8-year-old to understand, challenging enough for my teenagers to enjoy, and focused on Jesus Christ and the story of His birth.

What's more, we had a good time together and I only threatened to duct tape the kids' mouths shut once! (Just kidding. It was twice.)

I consider that a rollicking success, and I'm looking forward to playing Stella Nova again this holiday season with my kids.

Phillip and I are always looking for ways for our family to remember and celebrate the real reason for the Christmas season, and we're happy to add Stella Nova to our toolbox!

If you're looking for family fun and a new way to keep Christ at the center of your Christmas this year, I highly recommend checking out Stella Nova's website.

The giveaway may be over, but you can still get a copy of Stella Nova in time for Christmas and you can get a 20% discount (regular price is $39.95) by purchasing with the "buy now" button below:

STELLA NOVA BOARD GAME GIVEAWAY (Ended)

The prize: one Stella Nova game

How to enter: follow the Rafflecopter instructions below. (U.S. residents only, for this one.)

a Rafflecopter giveaway
Disclaimer: This giveaway is sponsored by Stella Nova and I was compensated for this review. But all opinions are 100% my own, as always!

Click to Share:

Read More »

It's Almost Magical When You Think About It

I love hearing the stories of people who converted to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints later in life.

Maybe it's because I'm a convert myself, but I think it's fascinating how no two people have the same story of where they were before. Some were active in another religion, some were seeking a spiritual home in a lot of different places, and others were completely uninterested in anything with the word "church" in it.

Some were introduced to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints by a friend, or answered the door when two missionaries knocked on it, or had a spiritual awakening when they found a Book of Mormon in a trash can (okay, I don't know anybody who that happened to but I'll bet it's happened to someone.)

No two stories are alike, but they all involve one thing: change.

What I love about the gospel is that it makes change possible, even in the least likely circumstances.

I just finished reading Jacob 5 in the Book of Mormon, a chapter that compares the House of Israel to an olive tree and the Lord to the master of the vineyard.

The master decides to take some of the main olive tree's branches and graft them all over the vineyard (i.e: scatter the tribes of Israel.) He also grafts wild branches into the original tree (i.e: adopt Gentiles.)

After a while he takes a servant around to see how the grafted branches are doing. They come to a tree in a far-flung corner that's doing great and the servant can't believe it. He asks the master why he even planted there in the first place because "it was the poorest spot in all the land of thy vineyard."

I like to picture the master kind of rolling his eyes as he points over to the left and answers, "Look hither, behold I have planted another branch of the tree also; and thou knowest that this spot of ground was poorer than the first. But, behold the tree." (Jacob 5: 21, 23; emphasis mine.) Which is, of course, bursting with fruit.

Sociology tells us that a whole lot in life is determined by the ground in which we're planted. We live out patterns experienced in childhood, which is why abused kids often grow up to be abusers and kids of alcoholic parents often struggle with substance abuse. We rarely leave the socioeconomic status we're born into. Mental illness, physical disease, and even character traits are products of both genetics and environment.

Statistically speaking, the ground where we're planted is important, but I'm not convinced it matters all that much to God.

In fact, sometimes He purposely takes an olive branch to the most barren, rocky, unfriendly place in the whole vineyard just to prove that when He's the gardener, miracles can happen.

The Bible is full of unlikely events: younger brothers supplant older brothers for the birthright (Isaac and Ishmael, Jacob and Esau.) Joseph is sold into slavery in Egypt but somehow becomes one of the most powerful men in Egypt. Virgins and post-menopausal women have babies and people rise from the dead. That stuff just doesn't happen.

As a more contemporary example, I've seen firsthand the transformative power of the gospel. It can take someone who's been broken by life and give them hope. It can take someone who's been hardened by life and make them kind.

I'm continually amazed at how we all walk into church with different strengths and weaknesses, yet the same gospel somehow works like sandpaper on our souls, smoothing out the rough edges that on no two people are in the exact same places. How can something humble the rich and, at the very same time, lift up the poor?

When I joined the church at age 18, changes to my life followed. I cleaned up my language and the way I dressed and the music I listened to. My priorities shifted. Some of the changes I made in my life felt major, but at the same time I felt like I was closer than ever to the person I'd always been on the inside.

I can hardly explain what I mean by that, so maybe it's just easier to say that the gospel is like magic.

It changes us but transforms us into a truer version of ourselves than we ever were before. It's the same for everyone but somehow tempers each of us just a little in the way we need, even though no one's needs are the same! It assures us that even if we're planted in the very worst soil in all the vineyard, that doesn't preclude some very amazing growth.

Which is good because I still have a lot of growing to do. I keep opening up my scriptures and getting on my knees in prayer asking for help with old habits and character flaws that at times seem too deeply ingrained to change.

Honestly, if it weren't for the powerful nature of the gospel I'd be tempted to throw my hands in the air and say "I give up, it's too hard."

And it would be, if it weren't for God's lengthy track record of unlikely successes and beating the odds through His amazing love.

Click to Share:

Read More »

What If You're Too Busy To Be Spiritual?

Whenever I'm sitting in church and the speaker brings up Mary and Martha, I start to get antsy and look for the nearest exit.

I'd never be one to say I hate any passage of scripture — but if I was, I'd definitely hate the Mary and Martha story.

In Luke 10: 38-42, Mary and Martha host Jesus at their house. While Mary is sitting at his feet listening to Jesus teach, Martha is doing all the food prep and serving by herself.

I can just imagine her getting more and more frustrated until she bursts out, exasperated, "Don't you care that I'm doing all this work alone? Tell Mary to help me!"

And Jesus responds:

"Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things, but one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her."

Well, then.

I've sat with my Bible open on my lap, seething as I read these verses, feeling more indignation than Martha herself probably did.

Because actually, I am Martha.

I spend all day, every day picking up and putting away a million things, shuttling kids to doctor's appointments, signing school forms, making meals, doing laundry, washing dishes, reminding kids to do homework and take showers...

To be told that all this work doesn't matter, that I just shouldn't worry about it, is a slap in the face. Not 'needful?' How about I stop buying diapers and we'll just see how needful it is?

The reason I got so mad at the Mary and Martha story was because it made me feel discouraged, depressed, and basically hopeless.

An incredible amount of administrative work goes into running a family, and no matter how much I want to be Mary, the fact is I still have to be a whole lot of Martha if we're all going to have clothes to wear and food to eat.

But after some thought and soul-searching, I've discovered something about the Mary and Martha story that changes everything.

It starts with looking at what Jesus actually said to Martha. Other than pointing out that Martha was "careful and troubled about many things" (i.e: conscientious and a tad stressed-out,) he didn't really say much about her or what she was doing at all.

He mostly talked about Mary. What, exactly, was Mary doing that was so great Jesus called it "the better part?"

I assume that ordinarily, Mary was not a deadbeat. I don't think Jesus would've condoned a life of lounging in a bubble bath with cucumber slices on your eyes while someone else bakes the bread and scrubs the floors. Mary was probably right in there with Martha 99% of the time.

But on this day, Mary recognized that if there was ever a good time to drop her ordinary chores for something more important, this was it.

Think about it: they had the Son of God sitting in their house teaching them about the things of eternity, and Martha (bless her heart) was preoccupied with the table linens!

Of course it's easy to criticize Martha for having her priorities all wrong, but how many times have I done the same sort of thing?

I'm ashamed to admit that sometimes when my family gathers for nightly scriptures and prayer, I'll miss some or all of it because I'm busy finishing up cleaning the kitchen.

In reality, the dishes can wait — not forever, but for a little while — while an important spiritual moment is going on. In ten minutes I can get back to them, but reading and praying with my family in that moment needs to take precedence.

The story of Mary and Martha, thank goodness, isn't an indictment against anyone who's ever mopped a floor or organized a closet or made a weekly meal plan.

It's a lesson in priorities. If we do the work inherent in life while reserving top priority for Jesus, even a hard-working Martha like me can start to become a little more like Mary.

Click to Share:

Read More »

That We Might Have Joy

Several Sundays ago, I was having a bad day.

I was tired, having a fight with my husband that was like something straight out of Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus, and feeling totally unappreciated for everything I try to do for my family.

Church had just ended and the baby was D-O-N-E with being awake and wanted to go home, but Sunday school had just begun (yes, we have Sunday school even for the adults) and we had 2 hours to go.

By the time I collected the scattered Cheerios in and around our pew and dropped off the 3-year-old at nursery, the baby was already perfecting his flopping-around-like-a-possessed-mackerel routine and then I realized that I'd forgotten something at home that I needed.

Since we only live 3 minutes away from the church we drove home to get it, but I turned the house upside-down and couldn't find it. This seemed like the perfect way to conclude the worst day ever, except that it wasn't even noon yet.

I wanted to put on my pajamas and crawl into bed to hide, but I had to go back to church, because I was supposed to be doing the announcements before the last class.

I'm glad I did end up returning, though, and I'm glad Heavenly Father didn't give up on me. As I walked into the building just before our class started, and I felt a peaceful feeling wash over me that I hadn't had all day, like I was where I was supposed to be.

When it was time for the lesson, the teacher stopped to thank me publicly for making the announcements (this never happens, by the way) because she knew how hard it was when you're also juggling a writhing baby who keeps trying to eat the microphone.

I'd been feeling so dark and unappreciated, her comment was like feeling the sun on my face for this first time in the spring.

Then she moved on to the topic of her lesson for that Sunday: joy.

I've always known that God knows and cares about what's happening to us at any given moment, and particularly that He wants us to have joy, but I'd forgotten it that day.

Phillip had to leave for the airport for a work trip directly after church (we were still in an unresolved argument, but Southwest Airlines waits for no man,) leaving me with plenty of time to worry about and obsess over our differences while he was gone.

But through two answered prayers over those days, I felt God's concern for me.

In one particularly angry moment when I accusingly prayed, "How in the world does it make sense for men and women to work together when we are so fundamentally different?" a thought immediately came to my mind: "So you can learn to understand people who are different than you. God wants you to become like Him, and He understands everybody." While that answer didn't change the situation, it did give me peace and helped me feel happier.

The next day yet another miracle occurred, when a friend saw the overwhelmed look in my eyes and offered to take my children, even the baby, so I could have some time to myself.

Another thing that never happens. I don't even remember the last time I asked someone to watch the kids so I could do anything more fun than visiting the dentist. This was like a mini-vacation. And with Phillip out of town and no family within 1,000 miles, I really needed it.

Over the past two days I'd gone from feeling stressed-out and unappreciated to feeling like I was being noticed.

Noticed by other people, yes, but more importantly, I felt noticed by God. For the past three days He had been orchestrating a series of small coincidences for me, all to remind me that it matters to Him that I feel joy.

And no joke, as I dropped my kids off and was driving home along the same route thinking this very thing, I noticed a street sign I'd never seen before. It said, "Joy Lane."

I just started laughing out loud. And then, let's be honest, crying a little.

I've had many answered prayers and experiences in my life that felt to me like nudges from God, but not quite like this. Not so many of them, spread out over several days, all pointing to the same thing.

It was like a trail of breadcrumbs leading me back to the undeniable fact that God wants me to have joy.

As a Mormon, I believe that God's plan for humankind can be summed up in seven simple words that appear in a verse from the Book of Mormon: "Men are that they might have joy" (2 Nephi 2: 25.)

God wants me to have joy. And you, too. Joyfully connecting with God is the entire point of our human existence.

I don't expect that I'll never again have a bad day. Life has ups and downs, which is the way it's supposed to be. But even on the down days, it helps to remember there is still a loving God in heaven who finds ways to help us feel the joy He wants for us.

Click to Share:

Read More »

So We Skipped General Conference and Went to a Mosque

I look forward to the first weekend in April and October every year, because those are the weekends of General Conference.

As a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, I believe in a prophet who's alive today. General Conference is when the prophet gives inspired sermons, along with other leaders of our church, via live satellite broadcast to the whole world.

If you don't know much about General Conference, it's given in four two-hour sessions over a Saturday and a Sunday. When I wasn't fetching cups of water or being elbowed in the eye socket by a small person in my lap, I enjoyed the first three sessions.

But during the fourth and final session, there was also an open house for the public at a Muslim mosque just 15 minutes away. It was only the one day and just for a few hours.

And I really wanted to go.

I love my church, and the more I love it the more richness and beauty I find in different religions, not just my own. Learning about them helps me codify what I believe and why, and drawing parallels between my faith and others' (or noticing the differences) deepens my appreciation for my God and my membership in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

I also knew it could do the same for my children. Aside from being interesting and educating them about the world, I knew the open house would probably create a dialogue about faith in our house.

One of the things I love about the public school my kids attend is how they have friends of all religions, and some with no religion, and their experiences have prompted some amazing discussions about our beliefs and why we live the way we do. It's added a depth to their faith that I don't think would've been there otherwise.

So it was decided that I'd take the older three kids (no need to bring the younger ones and make other peoples' houses of worship as loud as ours is) to the open house.

Skipping General Conference to visit a mosque? Perhaps not the decision you'd expect from a devout Latter-day Saint family, but that's what we did.

When we arrived at the mosque, I was surprised to see that it was a nondescript suite of a red brick strip mall. I'd been envisioning something like this:

Not what we saw.

As we walked up to the door, a little girl who belonged to the mosque started pulling on her mom's sleeve saying, "Americans! Look — Americans, mom!"

With 6 kids trailing behind, I'm totally used to a dull murmur of shock and surprise following us wherever we go. Today it was just for a different reason.

It was very crowded inside, with probably 40 members of the mosque and probably the same number of visitors for the open house. Someone directed us to take off our shoes and we entered the main hall.

The imam was at the front, taking questions from the audience. We'd planned to arrive just in time for the second "Intro to Islam" presentation from the imam, but he got so many questions they ran out of time.

That was a bummer, but we'd watched some videos and read up a little bit on Islam before we left home so the kids still knew what was going on.

Our sock-feet padded across the carpet, patterned like hundreds of prayer rugs all pointing toward Mecca.

We got some refreshments from a volunteer member of the mosque ("Are you sure you want the donuts? You can get those anywhere but I have baklava!") and walked around the periphery of the room, where there were teenagers standing next to tri-fold boards explaining aspects of Islam and answering questions.

I thought it was so cool how the youth were out there, ready to explain their religion, and I suppose that's what being a minority religion does to you. Although Latter-day Saints are Christians, we are still very much a minority, and I'm always proud of our youth's ability to articulate their beliefs and stand on their own.

My girls got temporary henna tattoos at one of the tables, which I assumed would only last a few days. (Only later did I find out that it's more likely going to be 1 to 4 weeks. Hope they like the designs.)

Salat (daily prayer) was about to begin soon, and we were all invited to stay and observe. A boy handed us an English translation of what the imam was going to be singing/saying during salat.

At 5:20 the imam at the front of the room turned his back to us and started singing out the call to prayer. It was beautiful and comfortable, and though people were still talking and milling around the room it gradually grew quieter. Muslims started taking their places behind the imam, waiting.

I eyed a few of the teenagers, just standing in their socks quietly and patiently. They weren't scrolling through their phones. They were just there. Just being still.

I think the ability to be still is one of the greatest losses to our society as it becomes less and less religious. Even aside from the salvation part of religion, believing in God means developing patience and self-control. The ability to wait quietly without being entertained by a glowing screen. The ability to understand that some moments are more important than you are. Everyone needs to learn this.

Prayer started at 5:30. I know a little about Islam, but I've never seen a Muslim prayer before. In between the imam calling out the words of salat, there was a very deliberate silence for a roomful of 80 people to achieve. It was very inspiring.

I thought it was beautiful, all these people bowing and kneeling in unison to communicate with the divine in their own way. I thought of how General Conference, where the beloved leaders of our church were speaking right now to thousands of people in the conference center and millions of Latter-day Saints watching in their homes via the Internet.

Very soon, millions of Latter-day Saints would be bowing their heads in unison as the speaker said the closing prayer of the final session of General Conference, at almost the same time that millions of Muslims across the world (or at least, thousands of Muslims across our time zone) were simultaneously offering their prayers to God in unison.

Salat lasted 7 minutes. I felt like I was witnessing something holy, and yet these were regular people.

There was a crying baby, a Muslim toddler chattering away at the back of the room while her sister whisper-shouted at her to be quiet, and a few guys who came in late for prayer. All things that I see on Sunday when I go to church.

And yet, there's something bigger at church than just us regular people and our individual imperfections. God is there. We are there because of Him.

When we got home, dinner was just coming out of the oven and we watched the missed session of General Conference over eggplant parmesan. It was uplifting and wonderful. We'd had a great day.

My 5-year-old, who we'd decided was too young to go to the mosque, saw her sisters' henna tattoos and decided to take matters into her own hands:

She drew this with a pen and said it was "a henna circus tent."

As I thought about my experience, I remembered an old folk hymn that was actually quoted the day before at General Conference: "All God's Critters Got a Place in the Choir."

I don't believe in the truth of everything I learned about Islam at the mosque, but I felt truth in the reverence for God that I saw there. I felt it during General Conference after I came home, too. I hope to feel it always, and pass it on to my children.

Click to Share:

Read More »

A Matter of Perspective

In beginning art classes, instructors sometimes assign "upside down drawing" exercises. They take a drawing, turn it upside-down, and have students copy it.

The point of upside-down drawing is that it forces us to abandon our preconceived ideas of what eyes, ears, or noses look like and just copy the lines in front of us. We're drawing what we see instead of what we think we see.

When I taught the women's class at my church a few Sundays ago, I brought a sketch of a cat and asked everybody do this. Afterward someone approached me, amazed because she swore she wasn't artistic but her drawing turned out beautifully!

Which was exactly the point of my lesson: changing your perspective often helps you to see something a lot more clearly.

We're all told to love others. The scriptures say to "love thy neighbor as thyself" (Matthew 22: 39,) "love your enemies" (Matthew 5: 44,) and "love one another, even as I [Jesus Christ] have loved you" (John 15: 12.)

But it's sometimes really hard to love others, especially people who are different from us. People who talk, act, or think in ways that are totally backward.

It reminds me of a funny story about someone from my church listening to her 4-year-old daughter  watching TV in the other room. When the little girl complained loudly, "Mom, that chicken is weird" she went in to see what was on TV. "Honey," she said after a minute, "That chicken is a peacock."

Usually when we deal with other people, we don't have all the facts. We can't possibly know all the reasons why someone else acts or believes the way they do.

We may not be able to understand them, but we can always love them. And if you're finding it particularly difficult to love someone, the problem might be your perspective.

If you've ever had a teenager or been one, you'll know how fond they can be of positioning themselves nanometers away from the mirror and fixating on a single zit on their forehead. They can stare at an ugly blemish so closely and for so long that it comes to define their entire being — at least, in their own mind.

Unfortunately we can sometimes be like that with other people that get on our nerves, looking so close-up at the flaw that irritates us until it seems like there's nothing there except for that one thing that drives us crazy.

If you know anyone like that, and we all do, my advice would be to step back a little. The laser-like focus on that person's flaw (or flaws) isn't going to give us a very accurate picture of who they really are.

If we step back, way back, then our perspective changes. Hopefully we can see the whole person, including their good qualities, and even if not, we can take another giant step back and remember that God loves that person more than we can even imagine.

In art, "perspective" is defined as: 

representing three-dimensional objects on a two-dimensional surface so as to give the right impression of their height, width, depth, and position in relation to each other.

Can I just emphasize the "in relation to each other" part?

The most important thing to remember is that the very same God who loves you infinitely also loves that exasperating other person just as much.

Understanding this very important truth, that God loves each of us the most, and that nothing anyone says or does can make God love him less than the most, is the key to loving even the most difficult and unlovable person we meet.

And maybe we can even learn something from people who are maddeningly different from us — that's usually the way it goes.

Click to Share:

Read More »