Tuesday

I apologize for the lack of creativity in the title of this post.  Since this will contain several thoughts, I just didn't know what to call it.

I've recently started painting my fingernails.  One could call it a minor obsession.  I never used to do this because the polish would start to chip and I'd spend the next few days chipping away at the remaining polish.   I was never satisfied with the way it looked--every wrinkle, bubble, or fingerprint would annoy me to no end.

I wish there was some sort of trick for achieving the perfectly polished fingernail.  I know--I could spend money and go get them done somewhere, but most nail techs kind of freak me out.  It's nothing personal.  Also, I don't really like to go somewhere and try to be friendly to someone I don't know while they "service" my nails.

So, I guess I'll suffer through polishing, not being satisfied, taking polish off, re-polishing...lather, rinse, repeat.

I have a Stake Primary leadership meeting on Thursday, and I'm in charge of a 30-minute break-out session with the Primary choristers.  I've tried to contact each of them, because I want them all to bring an idea to share.  Only three of the eight have returned emails, texts, or phone calls.  Frustrating.  One of them commented that she's having a hard time getting the children to behave.  This is a difficult issue for many, and I hope that I will be able to share some thoughts and ideas that will help.

I've been feeling pretty lousy the last several days.  I just don't seem to have any energy, and I am so exhausted all of the time.  Last Friday's dialysis was the worst it's been in a long time.  I dry heaved and vomited nearly the entire time.  When my stomach is upset I have to ask someone to take me off of the dialysis machine so I can use the bathroom.  This process takes at least five minutes, as they have to rinse all of my blood back and unhook everything.  When you're sick, this five minutes is an eternity.

I came home and slept the rest of the day and night.  Saturday and Sunday I stayed in bed with an upset stomach.  I wasn't able to eat much and just didn't have any energy.  I hated missing church, but I just couldn't do it.  As I was falling asleep Sunday night, the words to the song, "O Divine Redeemer" came to my mind.  As they ran through my mind, they became like a prayer for me.


Ah, turn me not away, receive me though unworthy. 
Ah, turn me not away, receive me though unworthy. 
Hear Thou my cry, hear Thou my cry, 
Behold, Lord, my distress! 

Answer me from Thy throne, 
Haste Thee, Lord, to mine aid! 
Thy pity show in my deep anguish, Thy pity show in my deep anguish. 
Let not the sword of vengeance smite me, 
Though righteous Thine anger, O Lord! 

Shield me in danger, O regard me! 
On Thee, Lord, alone will I call! 

As I approach this busy and important week, I know that I will need His help.  My prayer Sunday night became a plea to give me strength to do what needed to be done.  I woke up Monday morning feeling a little better, and actually felt pretty good after dialysis.  I'm still tired, but I'm able to eat a little again, and my strength is returning.  I'm so grateful.

Well Done

Matthew 25:21 His lord said unto him, Well done, thou good and faithful servant: thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.

I've been thinking about this scripture for the past week or so.  It has come to my mind several times, most recently while I was in the temple last week.  As we covenant with our Father in Heaven to consecrate all of our time, talents, and everything He has blessed us with to building up the Kingdom of God on earth, I wonder if I am doing all I can.  Do I rest on my laurels?  Is there more I can do?

My deepest desire is to return to live with Him and to be with my family forever.  I want to be able to see His face and to not be ashamed with how I have used the time He has given me.  I want to be able to say to Him that I have done all I can do to make Him proud of me.

I've been thinking about this time I've been given to be at home and away from work.  While it has been difficult to feel rather useless, it has also given me a lot of time for reflection.  I'm alone with my thoughts a lot!  Recently I've been evaluating my graduate work opportunities and where they will lead me.  I'm currently enrolled in the Human Relations master's program at NAU, but I don't know where that will take me in the future.  It seems more and more like a "throw away" degree.  (Not that gaining education is ever a waste...)

I was in Utah last week for my nephew's baptism.  My sister's sister-in-law was there, and we started talking about her career in social work.  I have had a good relationship with the social worker at my dialysis center, and talking to Jayne made me consider this as a possibility.  One of the aspects of my job as a teacher that I really enjoyed was building relationships with my students.  I enjoyed the times that they would come in and talk to me and I could help them with their problems.  Is this a good time in my life to take a different career path?

My patriarchal blessing tells me that I have a special heart and a gift for understanding.  My experiences and trials make make me more empathetic.  Perhaps this is the reason I am having these experiences right now.  I believe that when a door is closed another one opens.  Is this the door I'm supposed to take?

*Sigh*

In case you're just tuning in, we've had yet another delay.  This makes delay number 648,204 (or so it seems.)

In July, my brother Bill was here for testing to be my donor.  On the third day of testing, he got a phone call that he was not going to be able to donate as he had the same multiple artery issue that my sister Michelle had.  That same day my brother Andy called.  He said, "Word on the street is that you need a kidney."  :)

He was a perfect match for me, and came to Arizona for further testing.  He went through all four days of testing, and was told by a surgeon on the last day he was here that there shouldn't be a problem using his kidneys.  He was told that he had the same multiple artery issue, but that there was one artery that could work.  We would know for sure if he would be accepted the following Tuesday after the selection committee met.

We got a call on Tuesday and were told that the committee decided to try and find a better donor.  Andy would be a "plan B" if we couldn't find a better donor.  So--we were back to square one.

I had a few people ask for information on becoming my donor, and my Aunt Sarah is another perfect match. The next step is to see if she has the same artery issue that my siblings have.  I've fasted and prayed so hard that the perfect kidney would present itself.  Maybe this time--finally--will be it.

Sometimes I feel like I'm alone in this, and it just gets so hard.  I just want so badly for this to be over with.  I would love to not have to go to dialysis anymore.  I would love to feel good and have energy to get through the day.  I'm tired of trying to be strong all of the time.  I try to keep a smile on my face and tell myself that it's going to be okay, but it gets tough sometimes.  I just found out that the October 31 surgery date I was hoping to keep is no longer possible.  It seems like every time we have to reschedule it ends up being another three months.  I just don't want to wait that long.

A couple of weeks ago, Gordon was called to be the executive secretary to our bishop and was set apart by our stake president.  While he was in the middle of the blessing, he stopped and said that he felt impressed to bless me through Gordon.  He said that through Gordon's service, I would be blessed and that my health would be restored.  This was a powerful testimony to me that my Heavenly Father knows me and my situation.  Even though it gets hard, I know that He is guiding me and has a plan for me.  Patience is hard, but I'm learning.

The Dog Days of Dialysis

Once again, it's been more than a few days since I've posted.  I think about it all of the time...thinking of things I'd like to write about, thoughts I'm having...but I never seem to get around to getting the laptop out and typing away.

It's been a rough couple of months. 

In May I had another CT scan to check the status of the arteries in my abdomen.  They have become blocked so many times in the past few years that I almost expect something to be wrong.  I have been on Plavix and Coumadin the since November 2011, and I think that is helping.  Following the CT scan, my nurse called and said that the surgeon wanted to do an angiogram to more closely evaluate the blood flow in those arteries. 

I had that procedure done at the end of May, and it was not as easy as we'd hoped.  I have so much scar tissue in my femoral artery area that the surgeon couldn't access my arteries.  He had to go in through my left arm.  Very strange.  Anyway--he didn't have any definite answers for Gordon, but said that it would be up to the transplant team to decide if we were good to go for our July 31 surgery date. 

At this time, my sister Michelle was still slated to be my donor, and had been since November 2011.  We have been waiting for my complications to clear up before we could proceed, and were finally ready to go. 

Gordon and I spent some time together over Memorial Day weekend, and I told him that I just felt that something was wrong.  I couldn't put my finger on it, but it just didn't feel right.  I even talked to him about what would happen if I couldn't ever get a transplant. 

The next day I emailed my nurse and asked her if I could just get a confirmation that we were good to go and that there weren't going to be any more hang ups.  I was so tired of getting just before the transplant date and finding out that something was wrong.  She emailed me back and said, "The doctor will call you."  Uh-oh.  He called me later that day and told me that he didn't feel comfortable using my sister's kidney any longer.  She has multiple blood vessels coming from her kidneys--something that 10% of the population has--and the surgeon really wants an ideal kidney for me...one with one artery and one vein.  Why he couldn't have said this sooner, I don't know.  He must have seen something in the angiogram that concerned him. 

We discussed my options, and I told him that I had other possible donors.  They said that they would do everything in their power to keep the July 31 transplant date, and would try to get the testing done right away.  I called my brother Bill and asked him if he'd call and offer.  I'm so grateful that he was willing and able.  He took the blood test and was a match.

We scheduled the testing for the week before the surgery--which had been moved up to July 24!  Bill and his son Ammon flew in from Texas and the testing began Monday.  Everything was going along really well.  Bill is in excellent health, and I was so confident that things would finally work out.  Wednesday he had his CT scan.  While we were driving back to Prescott Valley from Mayo that afternoon, he got the call that he has the same blood vessel issue as Michelle, and would therefore not be a good donor for me.  I was pretty devastated.  I was just so sure this time.  What are the odds that both of my siblings would have this same RARE issue?

After crying the entire way home, and then crying some more when Courtnie met me in the garage to give me the world's biggest hug, I realized that I just needed to be more proactive.  In the past, people would offer to donate a kidney to me and I would tell them that I was taken care of.  I have six siblings, and I just knew one of them would have a kidney that would work.  After finding out that Bill's kidney wouldn't work, I knew that I just needed to start accepting the offers and letting the Lord take care of the rest. 

The following day, at least ten people called in to Mayo asking for the blood test kit.  I know that there are more people that I don't even know of who have called.  I can't believe it, and am so honored that there are people who are so willing to give.  I just feel so blessed. 

I found out Friday that my brother Andy is a match.  While I'm excited and SO grateful, I'm also a little nervous.  I just don't want to get my hopes up again.  I don't know how much more I can take. I'm just hoping that his blood vessels are compatible.

The last couple of dialysis treatments I've had have been so hard on me.  I'm not sure why, but it seems to be getting worse.  I dry heave almost the entire time, and have a splitting headache afterwards.  I feel so completely drained of energy.  Yesterday the thought came to me that it's probably a little bit like how Superman feels when he's around kryptonite.  (Not that I'm Superman, but it gives you a little better visual of how it feels.)  This "kryptonite" feeling lasts for at least 24 hours following treatment.  All I want to do is sleep.

Mostly, I'm just tired of being in this holding pattern.  I feel I can't make any plans, any promises, or have any kind of future.  I feel like an idiot every time I have a surgery date fall through.  I'm tired of telling people that it just didn't work this time.  I want to remember again what it feels like to feel good.  I don't even remember the last time I had energy to do much of anything.  I want to be a good mom and a good wife.  I know it will happen, I have faith that it will happen, I just want it to happen soon! :)

Parenting Teenagers

It's a scientific fact that teenagers are ill-equipped to handle their own lives.  The part of their brain that controls rational thought and seeing the final outcome of decisions is not fully developed until you are in your early 20s.  This is why they are risk-takers, are often hostile and irrational, and are extremely selfish.  It's not really their fault, it's just the way they're hard-wired.  Teaching teenagers for fifteen years has taught me that this is true.  There have been a few exceptions throughout the years, but for the most part it's fairly universal.

I thought that teaching teenagers would give me greater insight into being a parent of one--when the time came.  Boy, was I wrong.  While I theoretically know why my teenager acts the way he does, I still can't comprehend it. It seems like overnight he has gone from being a sweet, loving boy who was very sensitive to the feelings of others to a moody young man who only cares about himself (and thinks that his dad and I only exist to put limits on what he can and can't do.)

Our latest drama revolves around him wanting to go to our town's skate park.  He has friends from school who go there regularly to skateboard, but I know for a fact that so much more goes on there than just skating.  It's also located by the soccer fields where Courtnie had practice last year, and I would often sit and watch the teenagers that hung out there.  Most of them smoked, the girls dressed like hoochie-mamas, and the foul language was abundant.  I have heard that drug deals and gang activity happens there, and there are frequent fights and other unsavory activity.

Our son is a good kid--he has tried hard his whole life to make good choices and he has our trust.  While I don't believe that he would engage in the activity that goes on there, I just don't feel right about allowing him to go and hang out in that environment.  I know that I can't protect him from all of the evil that goes on in the world, but I feel like it's my job to save him where I can.  When his dad talked to him last night and presented different scenarios that could happen to him while he was there, he didn't have a clear "what would you do" answer. 

I've always hated the term "peer pressure," but I do know that it is REAL.  Even the most stalwart of youth can be persuaded to do wrong if put in a situation where they want to save face.  It's a parent's job to see situations through to their final conclusion and to help their children see that every action has a consequence.  I know that children need to learn some things the "hard way," but if I can help him avoid heartache, I would certainly like to try.

Children don't come with owner's manuals or instructions.  Gordon and I have made mistakes as parents, and I am sure we will make many more, but we are trying so hard.  Our family has been reading the Book of Mormon the past few months, and I am reading it with a different perspective as a parent.  1 Nephi was especially helpful, as Lehi deals with his two rebellious sons.  It was a perfect parenting manual, and has helped me to understand how to deal with difficult situations.  I'm so grateful for the scriptures--a solution to all of life's problems can be found therein.

So in between wanting to pull my hair out in frustration, worrying constantly, and being happy for his progress and accomplishments, we're getting through.  I love him.  I think he knows that, and I hope that some day he will look back at this time and know that his dad and I only had his best interest at heart.

Star Wars Geek

I think that I've seen each of the six Star Wars movies about 50 times each.  When I was teaching Jazz Band, after our concerts we would play the Star Wars Trivial Pursuit game.  I had a few "kindred spirits" in the group. :)

Some of my fondest childhood memories revolve around watching movies with my family.  We love movies, and I think we all enjoy the Star Wars movies.  The Empire Strikes Back was in theaters when I was going through my cancer treatments, and I remember my mom and I stopping to watch it late one night when we were on our way home from the hospital.  It was a special treat, as we didn't have a lot of money, and seeing a movie in the theatre was a big deal.

George Lucas is a genius, and I've always believed that if he were to learn about the LDS religion, he would find that his movies have a lot in common with our faith.  One of my favorite scenes is in the Empire Strikes Back when Yoda is training Luke on how to recognize the dark side from the good.  It is exactly how you recognize the Spirit--when you are at peace.  There are too many parallels to mention, and it would all be the "gospel according to Amie," so I won't elaborate any further. :)

I remember seeing all three of the prequels in the theaters.  I think we took Ian to see the first episode when he was still in a car seat.  He sat very still and watched the entire thing.  (Well, at least it looked that way...)  While the first two episodes were visually stunning, and helped to flesh out the story of how the characters in the last three episodes came to be, I was rather underwhelmed.

The third episode affected me very much.  In fact, I think I cried in the theater the first time I saw it.  To watch a person go down that slippery slope to the dark side was difficult for me.  It was especially difficult to watch this character I had grown up with go from being an innocent child to someone so evil. 

This movie was on TV today and I was again affected by it.  What hit me today was how much the Chancellor/Emperor is like Satan.  He gained Anakin's trust and then used that friendship and exploited it for his own purposes.  He flattered Anakin into believing that his power was the only way to bring peace to the galaxy.  In this way the Chancellor was able to get Anakin to turn his back on the good and to do his bidding in destroying the Jedi.

 In the Book of Mormon, we learn more about how Satan does this:

2nd Nephi 2:22-23

22 And there are also secret ^acombinations, even as in times of old, according to the combinations of the ^bdevil, for he is the founder of all these things; yea, the founder of murder, and ^cworks of darkness; yea, and he leadeth them by the neck with a flaxen cord, until he bindeth them with his strong cords forever.

23 For behold, my beloved brethren, I say unto you that the Lord God worketh not in ^adarkness.

In the Doctrine and Covenants, section 10, we learn how he flatters us and leads us to do evil for him. 

25 Yea, he saith unto them: ^aDeceive and lie in wait to catch, that ye may destroy; behold, this is no harm. And thus he flattereth them, and telleth them that it is no sin to ^blie that they may catch a man in a lie, that they may destroy him.

26 And thus he ^aflattereth them, and leadeth them along until he draggeth their souls down to ^bhell; and thus he causeth them to catch themselves in their own ^csnare.

Am I comparing the gospel of Christ to a Star Wars movie?  Absolutely not, but the paralells are interesting and to me are an example of the power of the "dark side" in our lives.  It starts small, but soon we are trapped and are led by that flaxen cord down to hell.  Recognizing the Spirit in our lives and avoiding those things that would allow us to become ensnared is what will keep us from becoming someone we don't want to be.  Happiness is temporary; true joy is forever.

Forever Grateful

I was up late again last night flipping through the channels on TV, and came across a program called "Birth Moms" on TLC.  As a mother of two adopted children, I was intrigued.  Even though it was midnight, I stayed up and watched.

The show followed three pregnant mothers, ranging in ages from nineteen to twenty-five.  Two of them already had children, but were having trouble providing for them and had made the decision to place their unborn children for adoption.  They were working with an adoption agency based in my home town of Orem, Utah, and were living there in an apartment complex while they were expecting. 

The birth mothers searched through profiles of couples wanting to adopt.  One of the birth mothers chose a family right away, and the other struggled with the decision up until the day before she delivered her son.  She kept waiting for something to click, and it really never did.  The reason she struggled so much is that she really hadn't settled on the decision to place her baby for adoption.  Once she gave birth and saw her son, reality hit and she realized that her current situation was just not fitting for a newborn. 

Another of the birth mothers told the adoptive parents that she did not want her baby to know that he was adopted.  She didn't want him to come and find her later on in life.  She wanted to move on and not be reminded of him.  I wonder if she just didn't want to deal with the pain.

I didn't give birth to my children, but I know that they are mine just as if I had.  The thought of giving them to another family--even if I thought it would be better for them--is extremely painful. 

My daughter's birth mother told me that she worried that people would judge her and think that she took the "easy way out."  Anyone who thinks that is not only wrong, but incredibly stupid.  Placing your child for adoption is the most difficult path to take.  Difficult, but incredibly selfless. 

Both of my children's birth parents knew that they would place their children for adoption as soon as they found out they were pregnant.  They knew that they weren't in a situation to provide a stable home, and knew that we could provide the home with a mother and a father who would love and nurture them.  For this I am eternally grateful.  Because they thought of their unborn child first, they were able to provide happiness for Gordon and I, and were both able to go on with their lives. 

We were only able to meet Ian's birth mother once, but we exchanged letters and pictures for the first year.  We sent a letter once a year for several years, but the letters from her stopped and we took that as a sign that she was at peace.  If I could see her again, I would thank her for giving us the greatest gift any human being could give to another.  Ian is an amazing young man, full of potential and love.  His dad and I have done our very best to raise him in a manner that honors her.  I hope she would be proud.  We're not perfect--by any stretch of the imagination--but we have tried hard to do our best.

While it is up to each individual to decide whether or not to place their child for adoption, I would say that in our situation, it has been nothing but positive for all parties involved.  It's not easy, and the pain is real, but time truly does heal all wounds.  Adoption allows an unplanned pregnancy to become a blessing.

Once Upon a Time

Every once in a while I spend some time on Pintrest.  I've decided that it's pretty much a time-killer, and it makes me covet, but every so often I'll find a great little pin that hits home.  This was it for me today.

I love President Uchtdorf.  His talks are so personal, and are very timely.  I thought this was great way to sum up what life is really all about.  I'm so grateful for this knowledge, and for leaders of our Church who are inspired to share it with us.

What's to Become of Me?

Before I start, let me just say that I had NO idea it had been this long since I've written.  Perhaps by the end of this post it will start to make sense...

As you may all know, I've been waiting on a kidney transplant for nearly two and a half years.  The first issue was mine to resolve, then I got to resolve it again.  My viral load was finally low enough for the hepatologist to clear me for transplant in February.  I was thrilled! 

My sister and I started calling Mayo Clinic trying to schedule the transplant, and we were told that the middle of March would be the most likely date.  She was here in Arizona mid-February and was able to get her testing updates done at that time, and we assumed we were good to go. 

At the end of February, we were still trying to pinpoint an exact date, and all of a sudden we were getting the runaround.  I had an appointment with the head of the transplant department at the end of February, which again, I assumed was just a formality.

You know what they say about the word "assume?"  When you do it, you make an "ass" out of "u" and "me."  That's pretty much what happened.

After reviewing my file, which he clearly hadn't done before the appointment, and asking me a bunch of ridiculous questions, he told me that we would need to schedule the transplant for sometime in July.  He explained (without a shred of compassion) that transplant centers have to maintain a certain rating, and thus are only allowed a certain number of live donor transplant failures every six month period.  By the beginning of March, they had already had two.  He didn't mention how many they are allowed to have, but I'm sure that was a high number.

(On a side note, a woman in our stake had a kidney transplant on March 20 and it ended up failing as well.  They're not in good shape...)

The failure rate for a typical kidney transplant is less than 2%.  Because of all of my pre-existing conditions--especially my vascular issues--my chances for failure are 10-15%.  Not the greatest odds in the world, but I'm still confident that I will be blessed and that things will go well.  The doctor even went one step further and told me that most transplant centers wouldn't even take my case, as the risk for failure was just too high.  Thanks so much for THAT information!!

I sat there as he explained all of this to me, and the realization that I had four more months of hell (dialysis) to endure was just too much.  I also realized that a July transplant date would make it impossible for me to start teaching on time for this upcoming school year.  (School here in Arizona starts the first Monday in August.)  I figure that I'd need about a six week recovery period, which puts me into mid-August at the earliest.  Another year wasted...

I started to cry a bit, but managed to hold it together until I got to my truck and then the flood gates opened.  I don't remember crying that hard in a very long time.  I was frustrated, angry, and wanted to hit someone.  I tried calling Gordon, but was crying so hard that he couldn't understand me.

It took a couple of weeks to get used to the idea, but I was still angry.  As I've said before, I'm not asking to win the lottery, or for a new car, or a bigger house.  I just want to be healthy so that I can get back to what I love--what I feel I was placed on this earth to do.  We live in a small community, and band director jobs just don't open up every year.  There is a middle school position available for the upcoming school year, but I can't see myself interviewing for the job and then saying, "Oh, by the way, I can't start until September."

In the movie version of the musical My Fair Lady, Eliza goes through so much to become a lady.  After she attends the state ball and passes the "test," she becomes angry with Henry and asks him, "What's to Become of Me?"  She wonders where she belongs, what she can do, and who will accept her.  That thought has come to my mind many times over the past couple of months.  I registered for classes for fall, and if I really push myself, I can finish my Master's degree by next summer, but then what?

I also keep telling myself the line from The Sound of Music (yes, I watch way too many musicals!), "When God closes a door, somewhere He opens a window."  I'm trying, and wanting, to believe that, but I also miss the security that my old life provided.  Perhaps this is all the test I've been preparing for my entire life.  I know that only time will tell.

Where Did I Come From?

One of the greatest questions to ponder is the question, "Where did I come from?"  (I know...it ends in a preposition, but it sounds better this way.)

As I was falling asleep last night, and pondering my rather weepy day yesterday, a line from my patriarchal blessing came to my mind.  It tells me that before I came here, I knew my elder brother, Jesus Christ, and that I was present and active in the council in heaven.  This statement brought me a great deal of comfort, but I had to ask myself if I still knew my Savior.  I don't think I'm as close to Him as I could be.

For those of you not familiar with "Mormon Doctrine," I'll sum up what I'm referring to:

We believe that we consist of two separate entities: our spirits and our physical bodies.  Our spirits are literally the offspring of our Father in Heaven.  We lived with Him before we were given an opportunity to come to earth and get a physical body (through the conception/birth process.)  Because we are all spirit children of our Heavenly Father, we are all related--spiritually speaking.  This includes our brother, Jesus Christ as well as Satan, who was also a spirit son of our Heavenly Father.  (Not to get on a side topic, but other Christian denominations call us a "cult" because we believe this...oh, well.)

Before we came to earth, Heavenly Father presented a plan that included us coming to earth, being tempted, and having wonderful and trying experiences.  This could only happen if we came to earth and had a physical body.  A key element in this plan is our choice to do good or evil.  Because He knew we would make mistakes, he wanted to provide for us a Savior, who would suffer for our sins so that we could ask for forgiveness and be made whole again.  The eventual goal for all of us is to return to live with our Father again.

Both Satan and Jesus Christ were present at this meeting, as were we all.  Satan spoke up and said that he wanted to force everyone to choose good, and thereby ensuring that all of us would be able to return to His presence.  Satan also believed that he should receive the credit/glory for getting us all back.

Jesus spoke second, and said that He would go, and would do the Father's will and that the glory and honor would go to the Father, as Jesus wanted none of it for himself.

When our Father chose Jesus to be our Savior, Satan became angry and was dismissed from Father's presence.  He left, and took one-third of the spirit children with him.  Because these spirits chose to follow Satan, they never got the opportunity to gain a body.  I believe that they are extremely jealous of us, and do all they can to make us miserable like them.

Our Savior came to earth, gained a body, and had some amazing experiences.  Some were so beautiful and spiritual that we may can't comprehend them.  Some were equally painful and difficult.  We have been taught that He had to suffer everything so that He could understand our suffering.  As bad as I think I have it sometimes, I need to remember that there is One who understands exactly what I am going through.  He has been through it, and will be there with me every step of the way and through every tear.

I know I've posted this hymn in the past, but it is one of my favorites, and it has brought me so much peace.

Where can I turn for peace?

Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole?
When, with a wounded heart, anger, or malice
I draw myself apart searching my soul?

Where, when my aching grows?
Where, when I languish?
Where, in my need to know?
Where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?
He, only One.

He answers privately.
Reaches my reaching.
In my Gethsemane, Savior, and friend.
Gentle, the peace He finds
For my beseeching.
Constant He is, and kind.
Love without end.

I know that in my own little Gethsemane, I can find peace and solace for my aching heart in one place.  I will forever be grateful for Him, and seek to develop a better relationship.

My Life is a Gift

A Primary song I remember teaching a few years back keeps coming to my mind today.  Wanna hear it?  Here it goes:  (You'll have to add the notes yourself...)

My life is a gift, my life has a plan
My life has a purpose, in heaven it began
My choice was to come to this lovely home on earth
And seek for God's light to direct me from birth.
I will follow God's plan for me
Holding fast to His words and His love
I will work, and I will pray
I will always walk in His ways
Then I will be happy on earth, and in my home above.

In the last couple of days, I have received some lovely Facebook posts from former students.  They both thanked me for my contribution to their lives.  It's funny how a simple suggestion like, "Hey--you could play the cymbals/tuba/etc." can change people's lives.  One of my former students, now a college freshmen is writing a paper about a pivotal moment in her life, and said that the moment I asked her to join the drumline was that moment. 

I started to cry last night when I read what she wrote to me.  I miss having that kind of influence on young people.  I hate sitting around, feeling sick and feeling worthless.  I feel like I'm just taking up space, and it annoys the crap out of me.  It's easy to say that I have other things I am doing right now that are just as important.  I tell myself that there is a purpose for this time in my life...my "career hiatus."  Maybe if I had more faith I would know what it is.

I'm tired.  I'm tired of feeling tired.  I'm tired of not feeling like doing anything; feeling like spending the entire day in bed; not feeling good enough to go shopping with my daughter or even make dinner.  I'm tired of having to rely on my amazing husband for everything from grocery shopping to laundry.  I just wish more than anything that things were different.  This is not what I had planned...

The "pat" answer to all of this is that life doesn't always work out the way you want it to.  I know that.  I know that there is Someone Else in charge, and that I'm on His timeline.  I just needed a moment to pout and feel sorry for myself.  Sometimes it's hard to put on your "big girl panties" and move on.  Sometimes a good cry is in order.

I just want so badly for this to be over so that I can get back to what I've planned for my life.  I'm not asking for much--just the capacity to do good and to be an influence in the lives of others.  It's not even a selfish request, it's just an answer to a simple, heartfelt prayer.

This is a Test, This is Only a Test...

Last Saturday, Ian (reluctantly) went on a hike with his wrestling team.  He did not want to go, and murmured about it all morning.  As we were driving to the meeting point, I encouraged him to make the best of things and to realize that everything he was doing was only making him stronger.  I told him to imagine his next opponent with every step that he took. 

After I dropped him off and was on my way home, I thought of challenges that we all face.  Growing up as a member of the LDS church, in Sunday School we were often asked, "Why are we here?"  The pat answer was "to gain a body and to be tested."  Although I believed that to be true, I hadn't really thought about it. 

Being tested is something that is near and dear to my heart lately, but I know that I am not the only one.  One of my cousins has a sister-in-law who just lost her 1 1/2 year old son in a tragic accident.  Her blog is amazing: http://inthequietheartishidden.blogspot.com/.  Full of heartfelt despair, but also hope and such a strong testimony of eternal families.  Her test makes my current situation seem rather insignificant.  I can't begin to comprehend losing a child.

I got more bad news yesterday.  My hepatitis B count has gone up--again.  Only ten points this time, but it's still headed in the wrong direction.  I feel like I've been on a roller coaster for the past two years and all the time I'm yelling "LET ME OFF!!" at the top of my lungs.  I just wish I had answers...

Nevertheless...this is what I believe:

The reason we are here on earth is to gain a body, have wonderful life-experiences, and be tested...a lot.  I believe that without the hard times that those tests bring, we wouldn't know true joy.  I believe with absolute certainty that if I hadn't had cancer as a child that I wouldn't be the person I am today.  I also believe that even though I am in the middle of a pretty big test right now, I will one day look back on this time with gratitude for the lessons I learned.  I'm already recognizing blessings that could have only come from a loving Heavenly Father.  I know He knows me, I know He loves me, and I know that He weeps with me during my lowest moments. I'm so grateful for this knowledge, and I can't imagine going through life without it.