Siblings who are friends (most of the time).

A few months ago I was writing for a blog called How Does She. It was a good experience for the most part and the blog still exists, but I am no longer writing for them. There were a lot of different reasons why but they aren't really very important. What is important to me is the content that I wrote. There were two posts that I felt impressed to write- at the time I was feeling like I should start writing more on my personal blog about these things but I didn't do it. So today I post the article I wrote about helping your kids be friends. I feel it is important information for any size family and want to make sure it isn't lost in cyberland.

 After all, this blog is about what I believe- and this is one of those things. So here goes, a recap of the post:) 

How to make your home a friendship factory -give those sibling rivalries the boot!

As famous as sibling rivalries are, I don’t know any parent that relishes them. Most often they are viewed as the side effect of having more than one child. While I agree that often these rivalries are produced from circumstances outside our total control, I do believe we can have an influence on them. In fact, I believe it is our duty as parents to insert ourselves into these rivalries and diffuse them as much as we can, teaching our children through the experience how to diffuse conflict in any life situation. Though it is most effective if begun at an early age, here are some methods I have found aid in diffusing rivalries between any age siblings and turning your home into a friendship factory!

1-  Make memories, relive them often. Make a good memory and then totally exploit it. Make a point to put up pictures of your family or the two kids who get on each other’s nerves the most having fun together and being friends. Remind your family at opportune moments of that time so-and-so said “_____” that put you all in stitches. This may be from a great vacation had together, the afternoon where everyone got along and threw leaves on the trampoline or just that time your brother stepped on a mouse in the dark, squealed like a girl and hung onto you for dear life…  It will bring a smile to everyone’s faces and remind them that they are friends.

Can you hear the choir singing? Oh, its just me as I frame this image and                                                 post it life size in their room to remind these two they had a lot of fun doing this together.

 2- Make family playlist. Maybe a favorite song from each person? All Disney? Oldies? Best dance beats? It’s your call- but make it and pull it out when you work together. Our dishes soundtrack not only motivates us and the kids to work faster and harder to get the job done, but creates some show-stopping kitchen moves as well. In short,  It makes work fun. If you can have fun playing AND working together- that’s even more memories being made. In addition, every time they hear those songs wherever they may be- good family memories come to mind. WIN.

Having fun while sweating it out together moving sod.

3-  Let them help each other. As helicopter parents, many of us struggle with the idea of letting someone else heal our child’s owies- but what if, just what if- we allowed sister to kiss it better this time. What if we sent brother to the rescue? Not only does the sibling gain sympathy for others in pain but the trust between siblings grows. The one being helped learns to trust that sibling more, the one on the helping end gains the satisfaction of being needed in the family and the empowerment of filling that need well. (This may have to be a bit scripted the first few times, ie: “Natalie it sounds like your brother has fallen down, will you go help him? He would love a hug from you.” Then follow her. Encourage her to help him up instead of waiting for you to do it. Now help brother along “oh look! Natalie was worried about you! Isn’t she kind, that hug feels good, say thank you Natalie…” Wrap them both in your arms.) In my experience, both parties usually walk away feeling more love toward each other. You can hug on the injured party all you want when this exchange has concluded but usually they skip off to play together.       If your children are older it might sound like this- “Emi, Olivia really had her feelings hurt by her friend today. Remember when that happened to you last week? Maybe you could give her a hug and help her feel better since you remember how it feels…”  Take the opportunity to put some laundry away in the room they are having this conversation in (haha, sneaky momma) and listen to how it goes. Have an idea of something they can do together to renew their friendship with each other as an immediate follow up.

How to make your home a friendship factory, give those sibling rivalries the boot!

  4. Eliminate sarcasm.  This can be hard if it is the main form of humor in your home, but generally it promotes hard feelings. Encouraging sincerity can be such a powerful tool to bringing more love into a home. A good way to start is to encourage sincere compliments toward each other. Perhaps you can make a game of it but however you accomplish it- promoting sincerety promotes trust. When siblings can trust each other and parents, (who can often be guilty of instigating this type of humor) they have a chance at forming sincere friendships. Eliminating sarcasm is like taking all the questions in a relationship and throwing them out the window. All that is left are the sincere, unquestionable respect for each other.  An that’s good stuff right thar’.

The first hate note I saw at our house. “Mom is mean”.  It obviously didn’t hurt my feelings, but I                     still talked to her about how notes we write should always be kind.

5.  Don’t put up with anything that would make someone feel bad. The first time I saw a note on the door of a bedroom forbidding a certain sibling from entry, I immediately pulled the bedroom owner aside and asked them how they would feel if a friend at school put a note like that on their desk- forbidding you to come near. Or how would they feel if dad put a note like that on his door about them? How do they think the sibling feels? When sympathy is established, address the concern- (“why do you want him/her to stay out?” Answers usually include something like ” he gets into my stuff,” or  ” they barge in while I’m dressing” etc… Address the problem ie: put the most valuable possessions in a safe high place, arrange for a lock only to be used during dressing times… Come up with a solution together emphasizing the goal of making that sibling feel welcome/valued AND, respecting the problem of the bedroom owner at the same time.

At the same time, get rid of influences that make putting someone down (especially a family member) look funny. There are a number of TV shows that glorify “coming out on top” with the best comeback, punchline or funniest insult. We make a special effort to blacklist these forms of entertainment.

Throwing leaves is a perfectly acceptable form of entertainment!

Increasing our children’s sensitivity could be argued that you are setting them up for a lifetime of hurts in the world. I like to say that this world needs more sensitive people who throw out less hurt to others.  When they recognize behavior that is rude towards others or themselves, they will know to walk away from a damaging relationship, or jump in and act as a friend to a victim. Being sensitive to the feelings of others will make our homes more peaceful, and in the wise words of Miss Congeniality, ultimately lead us to “world peace”.

This looks like the beginning of world peace to me :)

"Nooooo" Baby.

   Who doesn't love a "noo baby" as Amelia puts it. There are perks to knowing what your course is, and trying for a baby was the most immediate perk on our journey.  ( Sean was dedicated to "doing his part" as he referred to it haha.)
   We are expecting! The Lord is merciful and loving. Although I know a hard pregnancy is in order I also know that He blessed us to start that path quickly so I could move on to medicinal healing quickly too.
   I found out while we were at our family reunion, the timing was right and I was hoping for a positive so I had brought a test with me to take on the last day... Hallelujah we are on our way! I feel the accelerating of the arthritis everyday and hope that with this pregnancy comes some sort of remission. I have been told that it happens for many women, but I have been pregnant before and not too long ago at that! many of my worst complaints during the last pregnancy feel a lot like arthritis does now, so who knows... I remain optimistic.
    Sean absolutely glowed when I told him. I recall vividly telling him when we were expecting our oldest , sweet Emeline, and his joyous reaction. Every announcement since has been met with even more joy as we have come to understand that blessing that parenthood is. To be a mother, a father, to be co creators with God and part of the miracle of life. These blessings are better understood now than ever before. We shared the news with our family immediately. Amelia wrote me this note soon that day and I texted it to my mom and sister as the announcement to them. My due date is March 31st, 2015. I love spring babies!!

Prepared and blessed.

I am beginning to understand that asking the right questions is possibly one of the most important things we can do in this life.

  "I want to be healed" leads to "Do I have faith to be healed?"
Which the leads to, "I have faith,but only if it is the Lord's will. Is it will of the Lord that I be healed?" because I know that if it is, it will happen.
 "How do I know the Lord wants me to be healed," and then I find myself at,
" If healing is His will, what is the purpose of this experience?" And finally I come to the root of it... "What if healing isn't the purpose of this experience, am I willing to accept that too?" And
"If I'm not willing to accept as a possibility that His will may be my educational growth through suffering, how do I embrace that and proceed with hope that I will still be able to be the mother I know He wants me to be?"
 "What is the point of suffering?"
"Is there something else that needs to be done outside of these questions?"

   This leads me to want the confidence of knowing His will for me before I ask. I want to ask the Lord appropriate questions. I know that receiving revelation encompasses study in our own minds first.
 So that is where I began.

   I have studied everything I can get my hands on about RA. And anything new that is introduced to me I will study as well. This study took me on a journey through the holistic world- partly because the medicinal worlds solution isn't too complicated- we would have to carefully choose a medicine to battle the disease and manage side effects.
   The other reason I walked down the holistic road is because I really do believe our bodies were made to be healthy and glorious. And frankly the info I was getting from holistic sources about the long term effects of medication were terrifying!
I thought perhaps this disease was the Lord calling me to repentance for
 years of taking my body for granted. My staple diet in college was noodles and no bakes... Paired nicely with the date to eat program...

     Anyhow, I found myself wanting to know with absolute certainty what to do.  Somehow I felt that my often lazy prayer routine wasn't going to cut it for an answer I would need to direct my life this significantly.
     I evaluated the top ten things I knew I should be doing but wasn't. My list included the basics, more effort in prayer and study of the scriptures, more consistent and deliberate temple attendance. Obedience to basic commands like getting my family prepared for an emergency situation and feeding my family foods that were more inclined to produce overall health in everyone... 

I dove in.  I began with a fervor to implement each of these actions.  I sought answers in the temple. I was lead to better questions.  I studied the benefits of suffering.  I studied the fertility effects of medication (which can be severe) which made me wonder if the time for me to stop having babies was here. I changed everything about the way I ate and studied evening I could possibly find about healing, spiritually, holistically, medicinally, emotionally.... I sold our tv and sought to root out anything else that might have distracted my mind from the whispering of the spirit. I wanted no other influence to influence my direction. 

     After a couple of months having fulfilled a weekly commitment to attend the temple and having learned much there, I found myself in the celestial room praying. I earnestly told the Lord that I had truly studied it out in my mind and was willing to accept any and all solutions He had in store for me.
      I acknowledged that I was willing to welcome another baby if that was the plan, that I would take whatever medicine, that I would eat whatever he guided me to eat- that I had faith to be healed today-but that I just needed a clear and undeniable answer. I felt inspired to ask Sean when he would be ready to give me a blessing. We agreed that the next Saturday would be the day.  He invited my parents and his to join and support us.

     Saturday came and we met our family at the temple. After a temple session, and a day of fasting we all felt that we had done all we could to invite the spirit to speak to us. We convened at Sean's parents house and these wonderful priesthood holders whom I knew and love very much placed their hands upon my head and gave me a blessing from the Lord through my tender-loving, worthy husband. 

      The message was clear. A baby was the first blessing and order of business. Following our obedience to that direction I was promised healing- through medicine. 

   Oh the sweet relief of clear answers! My heart burned within me, confirming the answers I had received. I was reminded in the blessing that the Savior had felt all that I had and would and that this experience was to help me understand His love for me. That because He walked that path alone, I do not have to. Tears of gratitude streamed down my face and all who were there.

 I feel grateful for the ability to ask the Lord inspired questions. 

Desire, fire.

 According to the desires of our hearts.

We read in the scriptures,  that the desires of our hearts will be granted.  I can't decide if this is the most telling characteristic of our loving God or if it is the most telling characteristic of human weakness. Maybe both.

     For our Heavenly Father to love us so much, and want us to be comfortable SO much that even though He loves us more than we can even begin to comprehend he would allow us to separate ourselves from Him- if that is truly our desire.
    This kinda hits me right here as a parent.  I don't really care how much my kids don't want to eat their veggies,  I know it will make them healthy and happy.  It is a struggle everyday to persuade them to partake of this happiness because of their immediate want for sugar.
    I don't know how old I was (I'm sure wayyy too old) when I finally began making the connection that a cookie for breakfast literally rendered me incapable of accomplishing anything the rest of the day.  That first sugar rush would bring on a headache so fast. I would battle the rest of the morning to stay coherent from the sugar drop and clamoring to climb back in to those warm blankets and shut my eyes... Oh glory-its naptime! followed by a long afternoon of no-motivation-to-eat-anything that could possibly pull me out of the slump because it just didn't taste good after the cookie. Except maybe more cookies. Those would taste good. Cycle repeat.  That sweetness was so darn hard to get away from.
    But kids, well, they love to run and play.  A kid sick on the couch is miserable (and encourages misery in those around him I might add). So is the sugar the desire of their hearts? Or is running and playing? I tend to see a lot more happiness from the kids running and playing long term than the ones crashing from sugar.  (Or maybe my kids are the only ones who suffer from sugar crashes in the most unattractive ways...) BUT we all know that it takes a few years before they will realize this and regulate their own sugar consumption.

    Perhaps that is the total sum of this life,  to define our desires.  Certainly there are elements of genetic, environmental and circumstantial influence.
    Elder Maxwell teaches,
        "Desire denotes a real longing or craving. Hence righteous desires are much more than passive preferences or fleeting feelings. Of course our genes, circumstances, and environments matter very much, and they shape us significantly. Yet there remains an inner zone in which we are sovereign, unless we abdicate. In this zone lies the essence of our individuality and our personal accountability."

     Weakness in that even if we know we will be miserable like unto Satan, we could even possibly still desire it over the blessings and happiness that could be. And that our Heavenly Father loves our liberty to choose-enough to let us choose it.  He loves us enough to teach us what our choices mean.  He loves us by letting even the smallest desire for good work and grow in us. He shows His confidence in us by giving us choice AND accountability. He wants us to be happy, but He won't force us to be happy. Anything achieved by force is accompanied by unhappiness.

  He honors us by letting us choose fire, if we so desire it.
   So what,  what do I desire?  I guess a good long look at my actions is the only true measure.  And if I disagree with what my actions are spelling out- I suppose its time to change them. Praying with my small amount of mustard seed faith to change my desires to His.

Faith to be.

 

(Above: My parents with my little Luke. Best Parents Ever.)

       Healed. Mom was crying as she said it, I could hear dad emotional in the background of the phone conversation. They wanted me to be healed. Why couldn't it happen for me? I know the Lord moves mountains. I know He heals.  There are lots of faithful people in this family, surely if there is such thing as healing and having the faith for it, we could muster it.. Fasting was going on already in my behalf. I knew that my parents yearned for me to have this gift, just as I would have for my daughter...
     But somehow, it didn't sit well.  I couldn't imagine that I had been given this obstacle today just to try and give it back tomorrow... Why was this conversation making me so uncomfortable?
      And yet surely healing was a righteous desire- right?  Asking in faith for our righteous desires is something the scriptures encourage us to do!
      His will for us is to gain all that He has. This is my firm belief. I am confident that anything I am required to endure in this life is a smoothing salve to my rough exterior- more polish to my stone if you will... I have been given a challenge. What will it make of me?

    Some days,  a heaping ball of why's.
    Other days a more convinced daughter of God.

    I pour a hot tub, dissolve in my Epsom salts and baking soda-and sink in. I know it completely depends on choice. My swollen joints float effortlessly in the calming water and I know what I must choose. To embrace the gift (or challenge) He has given me, its just a choice. Am I allowing it to build my testimony with stronger mortar? Where do I allow my thoughts to go?
    If my Heavenly Father wants me to seek healing- I will.  If he wants me to experience the benefits of suffering- I will.

   My question at the beginning of this journey is what he would have me seek. What experience do I need most to refine and polish this rough stone that I am? My flesh is weak, but I want to do the most right thing. I am grateful for faithful loving parents and for their example of how my Heavenly Father loves me too.

   "Courage is exhibited in every virtue at its testing point." Elder Boyd K. Packer.
 

Morning.

  Today,  there is a lump in my foot. Just below my small toes.  I found it because it hurts.  All I want to do is nothing at all.  But then I would have nothing to think about but how it hurts.  But it hurts to move.

   In my mind I decide I must get up,  but the body is taking a long time to get on the action end of the idea. I hear wailing downstairs.  I feel guilty. I should be down there putting out that fire, calming the chaos. I feel this way every morning and by now, the thought cycle is worn out.

   It is then that the instigator of this chaos toddles into my room, swinging the door open with a loud thump as it hits the wall and swings back.  Little curly head boy reaching up, grabbing the air with his hands. I thank heaven for this tender mercy,  for bringing this boy to me, and scoop him into the warmth of the covers I am still in.  Tears turn to rhythmic breathing until he is asleep on my chest. Thoughts of pain melt away as my mind fills with all the good things in life. My breaths match his and I soak him in, for I know all too well I must enjoy this sacred moment. Babies never keep long enough.

Why.

    I have had a lot of thoughts lately. They need to be written. If only for my future self. But I don't want my future self to get bored-to-tears with my journal style writing. So I have begun a new blog here.

(Above:  My eight lovable, naughty and delicious hooligans.)

    I have a great life. It is full in nearly every way. Full of people. Full of emotions. Full of ups and downs. If I had to describe my life in one word it would probably be- FULL.  Through all this fullness, inside I'm trying to sort it all out. Why I am here. What is my purpose. Am I fulfilling that purpose? Today a little, yesterday not so much. Tomorrow I hope for better...

    The gospel gives us so many answers to these questions. It clears up the basics for us- who we were before we came and why we are here in this testing earth life, where we are headed after this dance is over...

    But my soul yearns for specifics.
    I want to know WHO I WAS before I came. What part did I play in the unfolding of this world? What promises have I made and am I living up to them?

    The only way to know the answers is to allow the spirit to tell them to us. Problem is,  even though I want to know the answers, my choices do a good job of telling the spirit I don't have time to listen. It seems that lately my earnestness to know if I am fulfilling the measure of my creation has made me more aware than ever of the things I am doing to quiet the spirits voice. Some days I'm not sure I know what it sounds like exactly.

    I do know what it doesn't sound like. It doesn't sound like much of anything I have heard coming from the TV. Or from the radio, (though I may flip through channels looking for something good like a caught bass trying to find water.) I don't hear it when the sound of my own voice is nagging the kids or highly emotional.
I can't even hear it in my own mind when all that runs through it is the drama from the last episode of Downton.

    AND NOW.  Now, after years of opportunities to practice hearing the spirit- the time has come when I REALLY NEED TO KNOW FOR SURE.

    This blog is an invitation. Join me on this journey.
     I'm not sure where it will take me- but I love company :)

The beginning, a very good place to start.

     

(Above: Me and the hubbs.  Love this guy.)

        I made my way into the sterile elevator, my mind racing.
      "The levels were high,  this wasn't a pointless, expensive exercise", I reminded myself over and over.

      It felt selfish- taking Sean from work, leaving the kids and meeting with a specialist.  Specialist...  another word for more expensive. It felt a like a gamble.  I managed in life, I wasn't on my death bed.  I certainly didn't look sick (at least that is what every doctor I met with before and after told me). I wondered if Sean was right.  If I would walk through that door, have the specialist look at me like I was totally wasting his time, tell me it was all in my head, handing me my "wuss-card" and a hefty bill on the way out.
       It was with some trepidation that I had met with our family doctor in the first place.  I had mentioned these aches and pains numerous times to other doctors I had met with... most often the response was "Well, that is to be expected when you are pregnant"  or, "Of course you feel tired, you have eight kids!" or, "give it a little time and if it bothers you, let me know."   That is why I began my list of complaints with that preface myself-  "I know this is probably nothing,  but I just need to know for sure if I am being wimpy and need to buck up or if this is something..."
    Dr. Moorehouse hadn't looked at me like I was crazy.  He promptly ordered blood work to be done and a B12 shot to follow.  The B12 made me feel much better immediately- so much so that I almost forgot about the blood work being processed. UNTIL. Until the phone call came. The nurses casual matter-of-fact voice almost masked what she was saying..."how are you... blood tests back... rheumatoid levels a little high... concerning...referral had been sent to a specialist..."   Thirty seconds later I was scheduling an appointment for what? What did she say exactly?
        All I knew about rheumatoid arthritis was that my Nana has it, and that it has taken quite a toll on her. I already suspected that medical treatment had come a long way since she had been diagnosed, but it was still a visual aid to what lay in store. I had often thought about Nana's absolutely unfailing optimism in spite of trial and wondered if I could be like her.  And all of these thoughts hinged on the fact that I really had no idea what "rheumatoid levels a little high" meant. Up till that point I thought it was pronounced rhuema"tory" and didn't even spell it correctly!

(Above: Amelia taking a picture of my Nana last summer at my brothers wedding.

 See that smile?  I told you she was optimistic!) 

      It was two months before I could get an appointment- which gave me wayyy too much time to read up. In which time I also learned that the nurse had put it kindly,  that my levels weren't a little high.  They were a lot high.
       What I found out was that if you have any level at all,  you have something. There aren't really any false positives in this arena.  The extent of that "something" was what I wanted to know the day I stepped into the elevator and felt the pull of gravity.  Up to the third floor and into the waiting area. Sean tapping his foot and checking his phone and taking a call... and its my turn to go in.
     On the way there we had taken separate cars so he could rush to work afterwards and I found myself wishing I hadn't asked him to come.  What if it was negative? (Most people would think that was a good thing, but I was afraid of it. I was afraid that I was maybe a certifiable weakling. And I was afraid we were walking in to prove it.) Looking back I realize he was in denial- he didn't want to think I was sick. He didn't want to believe that something could be wrong... but at the time all he said in joking tone was, "prepare to be handed your wuss-card." I had retorted back with something like "you should never say anything like that to a woman who has birthed eight children." But, he was right- it could be a possibility, a possibility he yearned for and I feared.
           The specialist arrived. He didn't look at me like I was nuts for showing up. He had my blood work in his hand from Dr. Moorehouse. He smiled. He asked me to tell him ALL about how I felt.  I guess I hadn't been laying it all out there for Sean (mostly because listing your symptoms sounds a lot like whining) and I saw surprise in his face at what I described feeling.
     I hoped for something real to be wrong.  I hoped for it, because if something was there-  it meant I wasn't just lazy. If there was a reason for how I felt, it meant I wasn't just bad at controlling my irritability. It meant I wasn't just imagining that cold temperatures, wearing shoes and standing for more than five minutes -to name a few of my complaints- actually cause me pain. MOSTLY, it meant that if there was a real problem- there was also likely a real solution to that problem. It meant that I wouldn't have to feel this way forever, blaming my lack of discipline and laziness for the extreme fatigue and waist-high piles of laundry waiting at home.
        I had read a lot about the disease, but Sean hadn't.  He simply hadn't had the time to research something he hoped to know nothing about. So when the doctor sat down and launched directly into treatments it took him by surprise.  Soon, I was having an ultrasound done of my feet and chatting with the nurse while Sean waited in the lobby.
     "Feels like the flu,  all the time, doesn't it." She said. The cold gel tickled my foot. "That is because you kind of have the flu, you know?  Your body is fighting itself, it fights all the time. It fights all night- that is one reason you feel tired all the time."  She was reassuring, "people struggle to understand what this is like,  but I find it to be like having the flu a lot. Low grade fever, foggy memory and general achenes to start with." I nodded, slipped into my flip-flops and turned the corner to a solemn Sean as he hung up the phone.
     "That was Mary (the hospice nurse from his office, who he really trusts). I asked her what this means. I asked her what would happen if we did nothing. She told me... she told me we are looking at a crippling diagnosis if we choose to do nothing about this."  It was the first time I saw him register everything. He was pale. Suddenly he wasn't in a hurry. I found myself talking him through it. It was going to be fine. Everything was going to be fine. I didn't feel guilty anymore and for the first time, I didn't feel like I had something to prove- it was proven.
    We went out for breakfast. Stared at each other, knowing somehow this was the beginning of a new chapter in our lives. I was on the road to recovery. I had an ally. He held my hand, concerned and full of love. I would look back on this as the moment when he became my greatest champion and defender in this battle.
     We munched on our kneaders french toast. The moment was full of everything silence can say.
    A problem I have, yes. But I had known that.  I felt physically terrible, and now- now there was a solution. That, to me, was relief already.

Benefits of Suffering

  Are there any? Elder Bednar talked about "spiritual traction" in his conference address last Sunday. He talked about a man who was drove his truck in the mountains to gather firewood, and the truck got stuck.  He was waiting for help and decided to fill the back of it with firewood while he waited. The heaviness of the wood actually gave him the traction he needed to pull out of the rut he was stuck in.
     Yes.  "Absolutely Yes", I thought. Trouble turns our hearts to God. My trouble gave me a bit of the "traction" I needed to fulfill goals I had made long ago and not yet fulfilled. Goals concerning temple attendance, making my study more meaningful and increasing my intensity in prayer.  These are things for the last few years every conference I would feel the prompting to do. They were new year goals that were made with enthusiasm only to be with enthusiasm again six months later.
    The traction of my load is exactly the motivation I needed to get me out of that rut.
 I WANTED to know what the Lord's message of healing was.  I wanted to know how to pray and ask for it. I wanted to know what the most right thing to do right now was. Which led me to wondering if asking to be healed was even an appropriate question to ask.
    SO then, how to you know what questions to ask?  You can see how the level of questioning changed when it became so personal to me. I began studying healing.  But the study didn't stop there as I gained momentum. The temple and scriptures mean more to me than ever before as I have discovered more answers and... more mysteries:)
    I sometimes feel guilty that it took something as drastic as RA to give me traction,  that I couldn't seem to generate it on my own...  but when I am calm, I know it has been a tender mecy from the Lord,  helping me to finally break out of the monotonous six-month-leaf-turning-tradition!
     What better way to remember than to suffer?  Remember the prayer rock we made in primary? The one that you put on your pillow so you'll hit your head on it at night and remember to pray. At which time you will toss it on the floor and stub your toe on it in the morning and remember to say your morning prayers?   Pain.  It stays with you. And every morning when I wake up and my feet and knees ache and I don't want to stand up off the bed and do the fancy "ouch" walk to the bathroom, I remember to pray. And I worry that if I were healed right now,  it would all go away and I would lapse into my state of carnal security again, forgetting who enables me to take the steps I need to every. single. morning..
     This is why I am beginning to understand the benefits of suffering.
     I'm moving on!  New goals,  new challenges.  I will not be held back by my disobedience to the commandments I have always known I should follow any longer!  I have a constant reminder,  PAIN!
Its a benefit of suffering. I want the doors to open to more growth, more knowledge,  more confidence in the promises the Lord is bound by when I am obedient.
     And when I feel confident that I have gained the habits necessary,  perhaps I can honestly ask for healing and really want it to come.

   

WHAT?!!

    Recently, I was diagnosed with Rheumatoid Arthritis.  An aggressive form of the disease that for me began taking hold in my feet and ankles.  Every morning I wake up feeling as if someone poured concrete into my joints. The sheets make my feet hurt before I even step onto the cold floor. I'm tired. Really tired. Usually the only person in a room suffering from chills in the middle of a warm day lately I have felt like I fight a constant fever. The morning commute to the commode is similar to a dance on hot coals in slow motion.

  I step out, hobble to the bathroom making great effort to stay on the outsides of my feet. (Stiff foot joints cause the tendons in the bottom of my feet to retract during the night and tear at the heel and ball of my foot when I step onto the floor.) When I am finally able to walk that out without tearing too much I slip into my clothes for the day (usually something semi-presentable that I don't mind having snot, spit up, peanut butter and possibly blood wiped upon.)

  I suffer minimally compared to suffering in the world. I'm more aware of that suffering. I pray daily and feel the strength of the Lord come to make things that seem insurmountable possible. Family, friends, my children, myself.  All catalysts to this relief.