Have you ever had pavlova?
Cuz you should.
It is heaven.
Easiest dessert ever to make and everyone thinks it is super fancy.
Especially when in the shape of a bunny : )
Hope you all had a very happy Easter!
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Saturday, April 19, 2014
The Miracle of Easter
About a month ago, I was asked by a woman at my church to help her out during her lesson to the sunday school children, ranging from ages 3 to 12. She was having special "visitors" from the scriptures come and tell their story of meeting and knowing Jesus Christ. They kids would pick a picture of one of these people out of her pile and slide in under the door on their "time machine" and out would walk that person to visit them and tell their experience. She asked me if I would be Mary Magdalene. I was so excited! I got to dress up and everything! I prayed that I'd know what to say to these little kids. I knew the story of Mary Magdalene so well, but what should I share with these children in the 60 seconds I got to talk to them?
As I walked out of the "time machine" and into the room crowded with precious little children, I knew EXACTLY what I should say. I looked into their excited eyes and knew without a doubt that they were each loved by Jesus SO MUCH. I recounted the story of Mary Magdalene in the garden outside the empty tomb. I said that I was the first to see the risen Lord. I talked about how I had been so sad that Jesus was gone that I didn't even recognize him when he came to me. And then he spoke my name, MY NAME, Mary, and I knew him. I told them that Jesus knew all of their names, each and every one. That each one of them was VERY special in his eyes. That each one of them was loved and important, so much so that he died for them and rose again that we can all rise again some day. He loves them THAT MUCH.
It was short. It was simple. But my heart was filled to bursting as I looked at these wonderful, sweet, precious children and told them that they were something truly special and that Jesus knew it.
I am so grateful for Easter. Because of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Savior and Redeemer of the World, death has no sting, the grave has no victory. We know that there is a purpose to this life and that life continues after we pass on and leave our mortal body. We know that we will live again, that our imperfect bodies will become whole and glorious. We know that those that we love that are taken from us are only taken momentarily, and we will be reunited again in incomprehensible joy. We know that we are important, so very very important, to our creator and god, and that we are loved with a love so immense that we cannot even begin to fathom it. How great the goodness of our God, that he would send his Only Begotten Son, to atone for our sins and to die on the cross and to take up life again so that we too can have hope of a beautiful and glorious eternity, pain-free, illness-free, strife-free. What marvelous hope has been given to us all. We need not fear, only believe.
If you have a moment, please listen to this beautiful sermon on Jesus Christ and his Resurrection.
D. Todd Christofferson: The Resurrection of Jesus Christ
May you all have a beautiful, joyful Easter!
As I walked out of the "time machine" and into the room crowded with precious little children, I knew EXACTLY what I should say. I looked into their excited eyes and knew without a doubt that they were each loved by Jesus SO MUCH. I recounted the story of Mary Magdalene in the garden outside the empty tomb. I said that I was the first to see the risen Lord. I talked about how I had been so sad that Jesus was gone that I didn't even recognize him when he came to me. And then he spoke my name, MY NAME, Mary, and I knew him. I told them that Jesus knew all of their names, each and every one. That each one of them was VERY special in his eyes. That each one of them was loved and important, so much so that he died for them and rose again that we can all rise again some day. He loves them THAT MUCH.
It was short. It was simple. But my heart was filled to bursting as I looked at these wonderful, sweet, precious children and told them that they were something truly special and that Jesus knew it.
I am so grateful for Easter. Because of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the Savior and Redeemer of the World, death has no sting, the grave has no victory. We know that there is a purpose to this life and that life continues after we pass on and leave our mortal body. We know that we will live again, that our imperfect bodies will become whole and glorious. We know that those that we love that are taken from us are only taken momentarily, and we will be reunited again in incomprehensible joy. We know that we are important, so very very important, to our creator and god, and that we are loved with a love so immense that we cannot even begin to fathom it. How great the goodness of our God, that he would send his Only Begotten Son, to atone for our sins and to die on the cross and to take up life again so that we too can have hope of a beautiful and glorious eternity, pain-free, illness-free, strife-free. What marvelous hope has been given to us all. We need not fear, only believe.
If you have a moment, please listen to this beautiful sermon on Jesus Christ and his Resurrection.
D. Todd Christofferson: The Resurrection of Jesus Christ
May you all have a beautiful, joyful Easter!
Holidays away
I LOVE holidays. They are just so fun. So much energy. So many smiles. So much tasty food. And PLENTY of excuses for family time.
This weekend is Easter. Right now my mother, father, brother, sisters, and all the grandkiddos are running around having the Easter egg hunt to beat all egg hunts. Last year my mom had 500 eggs! 500! They are eating a marvelous breakfast together and opening their baskets. I know my mom is eating Peeps, my sister and brother Reese's eggs, my dad whatever chocolate might be found. I can see how excited all the 4 grandkids there are with their baskets and as they race to grab as many eggs as they can. Who will get the most eggs this year? It is always an epic battle between my brother, my sister, and her rugby-playing husband. Last night they celebrated the Passover as my mother taught them the symbolism between Christ and the sacrificial lamb. Tonight they'll have their big Easter feast, starting with the pear bunny salad appetizer that my mom has made my entire life. Tomorrow is devoted to worship of our Savior and rejoicing in his resurrection.
And I am not there.
And it is hard.
If it were up to me, all my family would live on the same street, just like in Elder Perry's talk from conference (it made me cry. I missed my family so much!). I'd bake cookies every day for all grandkids. My older sister would teach us all about gardening to keep our yards looking beautiful. My little sister would be in charge of all things cute, like decorating and scrapbooking. Gramma's house would have the awesome toys, the tramp, the swing set, the pond. My big brother has the video and computer games, my little brother the amazing fantasy library collection. It would be perfect. We'd get together for Sunday dinners and holidays. We'd all be around for birthdays, blessings, and baptisms. I know all these fun little details about the nieces and nephews. We'd all be in each other's business and have little squabbles and it would be awesome : )
As I was moping this morning, my husband lovingly reminded me that what we get to celebrate out here is pretty awesome too. It is our first Easter celebrating as OUR little family. We have a son that is old enough now to understand what is going on get excited. He asks me to tell him about Jesus and the cross and the tomb multiple times every day. He is so excited that the Easter bunny is coming and he gets to have treats in his basket and find eggs. He is old enough to dye eggs and help me make birds nest cookies. We have a little girl who can crawl around and shake eggs and clap her hands and try to climb over her brother to get his candy. We have a big yard to hide eggs in. We have a YARD!
And because we don't have family to celebrate with, that means we get to invite friends over to be our honorary family for the festivities. Friends that maybe are missing their family too. If family were in town, we'd be tempted to forget to reach out, but instead, now we get to make memories a different, but still good, way.
And everything is still going to be awesome.
This weekend is Easter. Right now my mother, father, brother, sisters, and all the grandkiddos are running around having the Easter egg hunt to beat all egg hunts. Last year my mom had 500 eggs! 500! They are eating a marvelous breakfast together and opening their baskets. I know my mom is eating Peeps, my sister and brother Reese's eggs, my dad whatever chocolate might be found. I can see how excited all the 4 grandkids there are with their baskets and as they race to grab as many eggs as they can. Who will get the most eggs this year? It is always an epic battle between my brother, my sister, and her rugby-playing husband. Last night they celebrated the Passover as my mother taught them the symbolism between Christ and the sacrificial lamb. Tonight they'll have their big Easter feast, starting with the pear bunny salad appetizer that my mom has made my entire life. Tomorrow is devoted to worship of our Savior and rejoicing in his resurrection.
And I am not there.
And it is hard.
If it were up to me, all my family would live on the same street, just like in Elder Perry's talk from conference (it made me cry. I missed my family so much!). I'd bake cookies every day for all grandkids. My older sister would teach us all about gardening to keep our yards looking beautiful. My little sister would be in charge of all things cute, like decorating and scrapbooking. Gramma's house would have the awesome toys, the tramp, the swing set, the pond. My big brother has the video and computer games, my little brother the amazing fantasy library collection. It would be perfect. We'd get together for Sunday dinners and holidays. We'd all be around for birthdays, blessings, and baptisms. I know all these fun little details about the nieces and nephews. We'd all be in each other's business and have little squabbles and it would be awesome : )
As I was moping this morning, my husband lovingly reminded me that what we get to celebrate out here is pretty awesome too. It is our first Easter celebrating as OUR little family. We have a son that is old enough now to understand what is going on get excited. He asks me to tell him about Jesus and the cross and the tomb multiple times every day. He is so excited that the Easter bunny is coming and he gets to have treats in his basket and find eggs. He is old enough to dye eggs and help me make birds nest cookies. We have a little girl who can crawl around and shake eggs and clap her hands and try to climb over her brother to get his candy. We have a big yard to hide eggs in. We have a YARD!
And because we don't have family to celebrate with, that means we get to invite friends over to be our honorary family for the festivities. Friends that maybe are missing their family too. If family were in town, we'd be tempted to forget to reach out, but instead, now we get to make memories a different, but still good, way.
And everything is still going to be awesome.
Wednesday, April 16, 2014
Namesake
When I first started working at Parkland Labor and Delivery, one of the seasoned nurses that had a locker across from mine in the dressing room said "You'll know you've made it as a delivery nurse when you have a baby named after you."
Well, about a year into my job, it happened.
I was taking care of a sweet laboring patient. She and her husband were refugees of a sort. Because of her husband's assistance to the United States Armed Forces in the Middle East, their family was no longer safe in their home country and had to flee under protection of the US military, ending up in Dallas, TX. This woman was nine months pregnant, far from home, family, friends, and everything familiar, having just escaped an attempt on her life. Understandably, she was terrified.
Her English was poor but her husband's was excellent. As I spoke with this couple, I learned about her previous delivery back in her home country. Her due date had come and gone with still no baby. Whatever people there help in the delivery of babies came to her and beat her to induce her labor, triggering contractions as a stress response. She had no medications available to help relieve her labor pains. During the delivery, she tore horribly, so badly that she needed major reconstructive surgery. Her surgical site got infected over and over again, required surgery after surgery. It took months, if not years to heal. She was traumatized.
And now I was going to a major part of her initial impression of America. I explained to her that we had special medicine that we could give her to gently induce her labor. I taught her about the magic of epidurals, that she need not feel pain during labor or delivery. I reassured her of the competence of our midwives, that she would have not only a safe and healthy experience in the hospital, but also a joyous one. And then I went out the door and prayed like crazy that everything would go perfectly for her.
And it did. A little pitocin and she was off to the races. Soon after her contractions started in earnest, we got her an amazing epidural. She progressed wonderfully and in no time was ready to push. She had the best midwife on the board and together we coached her through the whole delivery process. Her little girl came out smoothly and screaming with out any injury to mother or baby. She and her husband were crying from relief and I was too!
To express their gratitude for making such a previously horrible process into an incredible one, they named their little daughter Laura. They took a picture of me holding my namesake and showed me their happy post on the husband's facebook profile.
Coolest. Feeling. Ever.
And then, with my heart overflowing with gratitude to my Father in Heaven who cares about the desperate plea of a delivery nurse, I went and offered up my prayer of thanks.
Well, about a year into my job, it happened.
I was taking care of a sweet laboring patient. She and her husband were refugees of a sort. Because of her husband's assistance to the United States Armed Forces in the Middle East, their family was no longer safe in their home country and had to flee under protection of the US military, ending up in Dallas, TX. This woman was nine months pregnant, far from home, family, friends, and everything familiar, having just escaped an attempt on her life. Understandably, she was terrified.
Her English was poor but her husband's was excellent. As I spoke with this couple, I learned about her previous delivery back in her home country. Her due date had come and gone with still no baby. Whatever people there help in the delivery of babies came to her and beat her to induce her labor, triggering contractions as a stress response. She had no medications available to help relieve her labor pains. During the delivery, she tore horribly, so badly that she needed major reconstructive surgery. Her surgical site got infected over and over again, required surgery after surgery. It took months, if not years to heal. She was traumatized.
And now I was going to a major part of her initial impression of America. I explained to her that we had special medicine that we could give her to gently induce her labor. I taught her about the magic of epidurals, that she need not feel pain during labor or delivery. I reassured her of the competence of our midwives, that she would have not only a safe and healthy experience in the hospital, but also a joyous one. And then I went out the door and prayed like crazy that everything would go perfectly for her.
And it did. A little pitocin and she was off to the races. Soon after her contractions started in earnest, we got her an amazing epidural. She progressed wonderfully and in no time was ready to push. She had the best midwife on the board and together we coached her through the whole delivery process. Her little girl came out smoothly and screaming with out any injury to mother or baby. She and her husband were crying from relief and I was too!
To express their gratitude for making such a previously horrible process into an incredible one, they named their little daughter Laura. They took a picture of me holding my namesake and showed me their happy post on the husband's facebook profile.
Coolest. Feeling. Ever.
And then, with my heart overflowing with gratitude to my Father in Heaven who cares about the desperate plea of a delivery nurse, I went and offered up my prayer of thanks.
Monday, April 14, 2014
"Then Sings My Soul"
The summer before I was married, I took off to do a couple internships while I was still single and my choices still only affected me. One of those involved working at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN for ten weeks. We were assigned which floor we'd be working on. I was given Urology. I was NOT excited about it, and often saw lots of things that I wish I hadn't had too (suffice it to say, my experience there led me to become a Labor and Delivery nurse in the future. No more old men with plumbing issues!!). BUT there were some good experiences too.
One of those came as quite a surprise. During one of my shifts, an elderly lady was transferred to our floor as an overflow from the GI service. Her insides were riddled with cancer. She had tubes and drains coming out of everywhere. She looked so incredibly frail and uncomfortable. In fact, I KNOW she was uncomfortable. She made sure I didn't forget it by way of calling me into her room every 5 minutes or so to adjust a pillow or rearrange her legs. But my frequency of trips into her room allowed me to talk with her as well and get to know her. Turns out she was a really sweet and pleasant lady, just in a very distressing and honestly dire situation. One Sunday morning, towards the very end of my internship there, she buzzed me into her room. She was tired and hurting and so down from her troubles. She asked me to sing a song for her, stating that she couldn't remember the words or how the tune went, but needed to hear it to comfort her troubled heart. As she described the song to me, one about Jesus and trees and mountains, I realized she was referring to "How Great Thou Art". Turns out I know that one ; ) All four verses. I sang them to her.
Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee; How great Thou art, how great Thou art! Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee: How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
It was such a sweet tender experience for me to watch that dear, sick woman just close her eyes and lay her head back and worship Might God. I witnessed the tears streaming down her face and could feel her love for Jesus Christ and her need for his peace. I felt truly blessed and humbled to have been able to witness and participate in some way to ease her discomfort.
When I was leaving the Clinic at the end of my internship a few days latter, she gave me her address and asked for me to write to her. She'd be being discharged to live at home for a little while longer instead of at the hospital. We wrote back and forth a couple of times until the responses stopped and I knew she was now singing in heavenly choirs, freed from earthly cares and pain.
Being a nurse is pretty awesome, huh? Better than awesome ; )
One of those came as quite a surprise. During one of my shifts, an elderly lady was transferred to our floor as an overflow from the GI service. Her insides were riddled with cancer. She had tubes and drains coming out of everywhere. She looked so incredibly frail and uncomfortable. In fact, I KNOW she was uncomfortable. She made sure I didn't forget it by way of calling me into her room every 5 minutes or so to adjust a pillow or rearrange her legs. But my frequency of trips into her room allowed me to talk with her as well and get to know her. Turns out she was a really sweet and pleasant lady, just in a very distressing and honestly dire situation. One Sunday morning, towards the very end of my internship there, she buzzed me into her room. She was tired and hurting and so down from her troubles. She asked me to sing a song for her, stating that she couldn't remember the words or how the tune went, but needed to hear it to comfort her troubled heart. As she described the song to me, one about Jesus and trees and mountains, I realized she was referring to "How Great Thou Art". Turns out I know that one ; ) All four verses. I sang them to her.
- O Lord my God! When I in awesome wonder
- Consider all the works Thy hand hath made.
- I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
- Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
-
- Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee;
- How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
- Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee:
- How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
- When through the woods and forest glades I wander
- And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;
- When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur
- And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze:
- Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee;
- How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
- Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee:
- How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
- And when I think that God, His Son not sparing,
- Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
- That on the cross, my burden gladly bearing,
- He bled and died to take away my sin:
- Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee;
- How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
- Then sings my soul, my Saviour God, to Thee:
- How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
- When Christ shall come with shout of acclamation
- And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart!
- Then I shall bow in humble adoration,
- And there proclaim, my God, how great Thou art!
It was such a sweet tender experience for me to watch that dear, sick woman just close her eyes and lay her head back and worship Might God. I witnessed the tears streaming down her face and could feel her love for Jesus Christ and her need for his peace. I felt truly blessed and humbled to have been able to witness and participate in some way to ease her discomfort.
When I was leaving the Clinic at the end of my internship a few days latter, she gave me her address and asked for me to write to her. She'd be being discharged to live at home for a little while longer instead of at the hospital. We wrote back and forth a couple of times until the responses stopped and I knew she was now singing in heavenly choirs, freed from earthly cares and pain.
Being a nurse is pretty awesome, huh? Better than awesome ; )
Sunday, April 13, 2014
Yellow Cheese
My first actual nursing-related job was as a CNA in a nursing home. I think everyone should work at some point as a CNA in a nursing home. You learn so many important lessons in that role, lessons of gentleness, patience, charity. It is tricky to help an individual retain even an ounce of dignity as you change their dirty diaper, shower them, pull up their pants, comb their hair, put in their dentures, and spoon feed them pureed meat mystery. You CAN'T do all that stuff without your heart softening a bit. There were patients that drove me CRAZY at times but as I served them, I couldn't help but love them. You got to know so much about them as you assisted them throughout the day and in and out of months.
I still remember all of my patients. I remember Mrs. Gardner with the terrible shingles. She hurt SO badly yet always smiled at me and asked me about my love life while I messaged her poor back. Mr. Basker was left partially paralyzed from a stroke but was VERY particular about what he'd let you help him with. If you tried to brush his hair or button his shirt he'd HOLLER! Flora was as angelic a woman as I could ever imagine. She no longer talked, I suppose she couldn't, but her beautiful blue years shined so brightly and her hair was a gorgeous fluffy white, silky soft halo. To thank me for my assistance, she'd reach up her small, thin, wrinkled hand and brush my cheek. I spent all my free time making Rosemary comfortable. She must have been less than fifty but was already confined to bed without anyone to assist do to Multiple Sclerosis. Having a dear friend of mine also diagnosed with MS, I was drawn to her room to help in whatever way possible, praying that some day, if my cherished friend also found herself in a situation like Rosemary's that she'd have someone like me to help her.
My very favorite patient was Genevieve. She was spunky and cute. With her salt and pepper hair and owl rimmed glasses and cat socks and hot pink slippers, I couldn't help but smile every time I saw her. She would shuffle down the hallway in her wheelchair, forgetting that she could use her hands to push her, instead just scoot along by brushing her barely-touching feet along the floor. She would often do laps around the care center after mealtime or activities, not for the exercise but because she couldn't remember where her room was or even what she'd been doing, so she just kept going in circles until I'd find her and give her a lift. And she LOVED cheddar cheese. Every day, as I brought around the snack cart, I knew to save her out a little packaged cheddar cheese. Without fail, when asked what she'd like for a snack, she'd forgo the Oreos and pudding and Ritz Bits, asking instead for the "yellow cheese". "I just love that so much. It is my absolute favorite, you know!" Yes, I knew.
Time went by and eventually I had to leave my job. I skipped town for 3 months and returned married and licensed as an LPN. My previous place of work didn't need LPNs so I found work elsewhere. Months went by and one day, as I was passing out medications, I saw a familiar figure turn the corner of the hallway and start scooting toward me. It was Genevieve. Supposedly, her family had removed her from the previous facility after a battle with the owners and had relocated to this new one. I was SO happy. I ran up to the snack cart, grabbed out a cheddar cheese, and hurried down the hall to give it to her along with a hug. She looked up at me with a smile and said "Thanks, Lovey! Yellow cheese is my favorite!" She didn't recognize me, just like she never had recognized me day to day before, but I recognized her and was filled with joy. I never saw her after that. She passed away before my next shift.
The joy I felt on seeing her reminded me of how I imagine that heaven will be, only it will be so much better. Eventually, we'll all see each other again, all those wonderful, dear people that we love yet have been separated from for such a long time, but this time we will be made perfect. Someday, I will see Genevieve again. Her mind and body with be new and whole and well, but her soul, her beautiful soul, with be the same, and I will recognize her and rejoice with her.
I still remember all of my patients. I remember Mrs. Gardner with the terrible shingles. She hurt SO badly yet always smiled at me and asked me about my love life while I messaged her poor back. Mr. Basker was left partially paralyzed from a stroke but was VERY particular about what he'd let you help him with. If you tried to brush his hair or button his shirt he'd HOLLER! Flora was as angelic a woman as I could ever imagine. She no longer talked, I suppose she couldn't, but her beautiful blue years shined so brightly and her hair was a gorgeous fluffy white, silky soft halo. To thank me for my assistance, she'd reach up her small, thin, wrinkled hand and brush my cheek. I spent all my free time making Rosemary comfortable. She must have been less than fifty but was already confined to bed without anyone to assist do to Multiple Sclerosis. Having a dear friend of mine also diagnosed with MS, I was drawn to her room to help in whatever way possible, praying that some day, if my cherished friend also found herself in a situation like Rosemary's that she'd have someone like me to help her.
My very favorite patient was Genevieve. She was spunky and cute. With her salt and pepper hair and owl rimmed glasses and cat socks and hot pink slippers, I couldn't help but smile every time I saw her. She would shuffle down the hallway in her wheelchair, forgetting that she could use her hands to push her, instead just scoot along by brushing her barely-touching feet along the floor. She would often do laps around the care center after mealtime or activities, not for the exercise but because she couldn't remember where her room was or even what she'd been doing, so she just kept going in circles until I'd find her and give her a lift. And she LOVED cheddar cheese. Every day, as I brought around the snack cart, I knew to save her out a little packaged cheddar cheese. Without fail, when asked what she'd like for a snack, she'd forgo the Oreos and pudding and Ritz Bits, asking instead for the "yellow cheese". "I just love that so much. It is my absolute favorite, you know!" Yes, I knew.
Time went by and eventually I had to leave my job. I skipped town for 3 months and returned married and licensed as an LPN. My previous place of work didn't need LPNs so I found work elsewhere. Months went by and one day, as I was passing out medications, I saw a familiar figure turn the corner of the hallway and start scooting toward me. It was Genevieve. Supposedly, her family had removed her from the previous facility after a battle with the owners and had relocated to this new one. I was SO happy. I ran up to the snack cart, grabbed out a cheddar cheese, and hurried down the hall to give it to her along with a hug. She looked up at me with a smile and said "Thanks, Lovey! Yellow cheese is my favorite!" She didn't recognize me, just like she never had recognized me day to day before, but I recognized her and was filled with joy. I never saw her after that. She passed away before my next shift.
The joy I felt on seeing her reminded me of how I imagine that heaven will be, only it will be so much better. Eventually, we'll all see each other again, all those wonderful, dear people that we love yet have been separated from for such a long time, but this time we will be made perfect. Someday, I will see Genevieve again. Her mind and body with be new and whole and well, but her soul, her beautiful soul, with be the same, and I will recognize her and rejoice with her.
Friday, April 11, 2014
Feet
During my 4th semester at college I went through a small bout of depression. What triggered it was really quite silly but it was a HUGE deal to me at the time. I knew that I had no reason to be as depressed as I was. I was TREMENDOUSLY blessed. I would make list after list of my MANY MANY blessings. I was surrounded by amazing roommates, wonderful friends, and even a very involved and caring brother. School was going splendidly. I had just gotten into one of the most competitive nursing programs around. I was healthy and had a job and had all my physical needs provided for. And yet still I sat around perpetually crying. No amount of reading talks or studying scriptures or listening to uplifting music could release my heart from the fog and darkness it was in. I was alive but not really living.
My first clinical rotation began. I was assigned to a nursing home an hour north of where I was living and was to visit there every Thursday for 8 hours, arriving around 5:30 a.m. and leaving around 2:00 p.m. After each clinical I would travel to my favorite temple in the area, the Mt. Timpanogos Temple. I would walk the grounds and sit in my car listening to church music and write in my journal. That provided me tremendous peace despite my depression but still couldn't completely shake it.
My first patient was a grumpy old man from out of state that had been life flighted to the university hospital because his oxygen tank exploded when he was smoking, leaving him with severe burns over 75% of his body. After months in the burn unit, he was finally transferred to a nursing home to continue his recovery just in time for me to be assigned as his student nurse. He hated everyone and everything. He told me about how he wished he had died, that there was no point in living. He would cuss and yell and make everyone miserable like himself. After an entire day of taking care of him, I was worn out and SO ready to be done with him forever.
The next clinical day came and again I was assigned to this old man. I was so disappointed. I went and found a quiet corner and prayed for strength. His nurse informed me that his legs, where the doctors had been forced to take a skin graft from to use on badly burned parts of his body, where dry and cracking and bothering him and could use some special moisturizing cream. I timidly entered his room and put on my best smile, offering to help him with his sore legs but dreading it. As I bent down and took his scaly, scarred, and painful-looking feet and legs in my hands and slowly worked this lotion into his skin, my mind recalled a similar image. I saw the Lord of all creation bent over the feet of his disciples, bathing their feet in reverence and humility on that Passover night. His apostles didn't understand that after that meal, Christ would offered them a great service even, the ultimate sacrifice, in the Garden of Gethsemane and on the cross at Golgotha. I imagined his tremendous love for these disciples as he went on to teach them "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another." (John 13:34). In that instant, my heart softened toward this man. I saw him as a person loved by his Savior, loved so much in fact that Jesus Christ was willing to suffer and die for him. An then I saw myself as someone loved by the Savior as well. I knew that even if I was the only one in the world that had needed rescuing, that would have been enough and he would have carried his burden for me.
The words of the song "A Poor Wayfaring Man of Grief" came clear into my mind.
A poor, wayfaring Man of grief
As I cared for this old man and his wounds, I felt the wound inside of me healing as well. I felt my broken heart being put back together. Tears wet my face, but they were tears of a soul finally at peace. I was whole.
Thursday, April 10, 2014
Weaknesses to Strengths
****All names have been changed in the following account****
I have always known that I was going to be a nurse. From my earliest memory, I was pretending to be a nurse. When I was six, I would fill my parents' medicine syringe with Kool-Aid and have my little sister "take her medicine". We had a play doctors kit and I was always listening to lungs, taking temperatures, and checking reflexes. My father is a dentist but for some reason had an otoscope and an opthalmoscope and was FASCINATED by them. I'd ask him to look in my ears and eyes all the time. My father also had an old molecule kit from his Organic Chemistry class at college and I loved hearing him explain atoms to me and teach me about the building blocks of the universe. In 4th grade, we were taught about the eye in school. I LOVED it, learning all the parts of the eye and how it worked. I couldn't wait to run home and share the news with my little sister. Bless her heart, this was the first of MANY long medical explanations that she would be forced to endure over the years; parts of the ear in 5th grade, bones of the body in 7th grade, Punnet squares and parts of the cell in 9th grade, etc. On nights when she had difficulty sleeping, she would ask for me to teach her something about the human body because she knew it would put her right to sleep (we were blessed to share the same room until I turned 16 and she decided to move out on me. Broke my heart...). Everyone knew I was going to be a nurse, so joining the College of Nursing when I went off to Brigham Young University was a no brainer.
My first semester at college, though, my plans hit a slight snag. I was required to take an Intro to Nursing course where they provided an overview of what all nurses do. I learned that my first clinical rotation would be at a nursing home, taking care of patients recovering from strokes or dealing with Alzheimer's and the like. Nursing homes were a HUGE terror to me at the time. I didn't like the smells or the sights there. I felt out of place whenever we'd go there as a church group. Old people already made me uncomfortable. I was really shy and had NO idea what to say or do around them. Then, add on mental instability and I was TOTALLY out of my comfort zone. I remember sitting in class and thinking "What am I going to do?! I guess I can switch and be a chemistry teacher. I really enjoyed AP Chem and didn't do too shabby on the AP exam..." but then I remembered a scripture from my youth. "I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them" (Ether 12:27). I realized that this was a huge weakness of mine, but God wanted me to be an nurse, and even more, He wanted me to love everyone, ESPECIALLY those of His children that were in need in nursing homes. I knew that if I asked Him for help and truly tried to love these children of His, that He would help me turn my fear of the elderly and the handicapped into a strength.
I started searching out volunteer opportunities that very day. I found a small place, half an hour away by bus, that would accept me as a volunteer. They where a mixed facility. They had residents ranging from 18 years of age to nearly 100. All of these patients had some disability of one kind or another, either mental, physical, or both, that required full-time nursing care and the assistance of occupational, speech, and physical therapists. They wanted a volunteer that would show consistency and would make a real time commitment to them. I started a schedule where I would work and study like crazy during the week days in order to be completely through with all my academic responsibilities for the weekend by 2 p.m. on Friday. Then, I would hop on a bus and arrive at this small care center by 2:30 to spend 3-4 good hours with the residents there before catching the last bus of the night back to the university.
My volunteer duties were small; play basketball with Kevin, talk NASCAR and body shop with Tim, play Sorry! with Kera and LaNae, help John color a picture, teach Josephine how to weave a shoelace in and out of a heart cut-out, sing songs with Jamie. As menial as these tasks were though, I found myself looking forward to my Friday outings. I would be greeted at the door with shouts of hello and hugs. I'd be pulled in multiple directions at once with requests to play a game with one resident or take a look at what another resident had made earlier that day during crafts. I learned their interests and started planning how I would surprise them or care for them in the future; learn a little song on the piano for Jamie, bring a picture of a cool new car from a magazine for Tim, wear my running shoes to better shoot hoops with Kevin, ask some of my college friends to teach me a few signs so I could communicate better with Jenny in ASL. In no time, I found that I loved them all and was comfortable with them in ways that I never was with my peers. When Josephine needed a shoulder to cry on, I was honored to be able to proffer mine. When Jenny was signing something over and over with tears in her eyes, I was surprised when I recognized that she was telling me she was in pain and I was able to alert a nurse to her toothache. I was moved deeply when I saw the miracle of Robert sit down at the piano and play gorgeous Debussy one last time despite his severe Alzheimer's that kept him from completing even the smallest tasks or forming the shortest sentences. My time there was incredible.
In our prophet Thomas S. Monson's most recent General Conference address, Love- the Essence of the Gospel, he shared a wonderful quote from another prophet of this dispensation, Spencer W. Kimball. It reads “We must remember that those mortals we meet in parking lots, offices, elevators, and elsewhere are that portion of mankind God has given us to love and to serve. It will do us little good to speak of the general brotherhood of mankind if we cannot regard those who are all around us as our brothers and sisters.” President Monson went on to describe the love of the Savior, Jesus Christ, and shared a popular poem:
I have always known that I was going to be a nurse. From my earliest memory, I was pretending to be a nurse. When I was six, I would fill my parents' medicine syringe with Kool-Aid and have my little sister "take her medicine". We had a play doctors kit and I was always listening to lungs, taking temperatures, and checking reflexes. My father is a dentist but for some reason had an otoscope and an opthalmoscope and was FASCINATED by them. I'd ask him to look in my ears and eyes all the time. My father also had an old molecule kit from his Organic Chemistry class at college and I loved hearing him explain atoms to me and teach me about the building blocks of the universe. In 4th grade, we were taught about the eye in school. I LOVED it, learning all the parts of the eye and how it worked. I couldn't wait to run home and share the news with my little sister. Bless her heart, this was the first of MANY long medical explanations that she would be forced to endure over the years; parts of the ear in 5th grade, bones of the body in 7th grade, Punnet squares and parts of the cell in 9th grade, etc. On nights when she had difficulty sleeping, she would ask for me to teach her something about the human body because she knew it would put her right to sleep (we were blessed to share the same room until I turned 16 and she decided to move out on me. Broke my heart...). Everyone knew I was going to be a nurse, so joining the College of Nursing when I went off to Brigham Young University was a no brainer.
My first semester at college, though, my plans hit a slight snag. I was required to take an Intro to Nursing course where they provided an overview of what all nurses do. I learned that my first clinical rotation would be at a nursing home, taking care of patients recovering from strokes or dealing with Alzheimer's and the like. Nursing homes were a HUGE terror to me at the time. I didn't like the smells or the sights there. I felt out of place whenever we'd go there as a church group. Old people already made me uncomfortable. I was really shy and had NO idea what to say or do around them. Then, add on mental instability and I was TOTALLY out of my comfort zone. I remember sitting in class and thinking "What am I going to do?! I guess I can switch and be a chemistry teacher. I really enjoyed AP Chem and didn't do too shabby on the AP exam..." but then I remembered a scripture from my youth. "I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them" (Ether 12:27). I realized that this was a huge weakness of mine, but God wanted me to be an nurse, and even more, He wanted me to love everyone, ESPECIALLY those of His children that were in need in nursing homes. I knew that if I asked Him for help and truly tried to love these children of His, that He would help me turn my fear of the elderly and the handicapped into a strength.
I started searching out volunteer opportunities that very day. I found a small place, half an hour away by bus, that would accept me as a volunteer. They where a mixed facility. They had residents ranging from 18 years of age to nearly 100. All of these patients had some disability of one kind or another, either mental, physical, or both, that required full-time nursing care and the assistance of occupational, speech, and physical therapists. They wanted a volunteer that would show consistency and would make a real time commitment to them. I started a schedule where I would work and study like crazy during the week days in order to be completely through with all my academic responsibilities for the weekend by 2 p.m. on Friday. Then, I would hop on a bus and arrive at this small care center by 2:30 to spend 3-4 good hours with the residents there before catching the last bus of the night back to the university.
My volunteer duties were small; play basketball with Kevin, talk NASCAR and body shop with Tim, play Sorry! with Kera and LaNae, help John color a picture, teach Josephine how to weave a shoelace in and out of a heart cut-out, sing songs with Jamie. As menial as these tasks were though, I found myself looking forward to my Friday outings. I would be greeted at the door with shouts of hello and hugs. I'd be pulled in multiple directions at once with requests to play a game with one resident or take a look at what another resident had made earlier that day during crafts. I learned their interests and started planning how I would surprise them or care for them in the future; learn a little song on the piano for Jamie, bring a picture of a cool new car from a magazine for Tim, wear my running shoes to better shoot hoops with Kevin, ask some of my college friends to teach me a few signs so I could communicate better with Jenny in ASL. In no time, I found that I loved them all and was comfortable with them in ways that I never was with my peers. When Josephine needed a shoulder to cry on, I was honored to be able to proffer mine. When Jenny was signing something over and over with tears in her eyes, I was surprised when I recognized that she was telling me she was in pain and I was able to alert a nurse to her toothache. I was moved deeply when I saw the miracle of Robert sit down at the piano and play gorgeous Debussy one last time despite his severe Alzheimer's that kept him from completing even the smallest tasks or forming the shortest sentences. My time there was incredible.
In our prophet Thomas S. Monson's most recent General Conference address, Love- the Essence of the Gospel, he shared a wonderful quote from another prophet of this dispensation, Spencer W. Kimball. It reads “We must remember that those mortals we meet in parking lots, offices, elevators, and elsewhere are that portion of mankind God has given us to love and to serve. It will do us little good to speak of the general brotherhood of mankind if we cannot regard those who are all around us as our brothers and sisters.” President Monson went on to describe the love of the Savior, Jesus Christ, and shared a popular poem:
I have wept in the night
For the shortness of sight
That to somebody’s need made me blind;
But I never have yet
Felt a tinge of regret
For being a little too kind.
God helped me overcome my fears and insecurities, even my weaknesses, so that I could better serve and love His children. I can tell you that it was all SO worth it. I gained even more from these sweet people than they did from me.
Wednesday, April 9, 2014
A Special Lesson on Happiness
When I went back to my Labor and Delivery job after 24 weeks of maternity leave (yes, I took 24 weeks away. I just couldn't bare to leave my sweet little baby to go deliver the babies of other women. Call me selfish.) I had a very special experience that changed my life. It was one of my very first nights back. I was asked to take over a patient in the recovery unit.
The nurse that I was relieving pulled me aside to explain what was going on with this patient. Our patient had just delivered a little girl. This girl had some extremely severe and incredibly rare developmental malformations that aren't compatible with life. Most babies affected by this disorder never make it even close to term. This precious little one made it to term but would now be put on comfort measures only. She wouldn't make it long, considering these malformations made it impossible to eat and many of her organs weren't functional.
On top of all this, my patient had already had another baby born with the exact same disorder a couple years back. She had already gone through the pain and sorrow and grief of slowly watching one child pass away and now would have to go through it again.
All I could think about was my healthy, happy, perfect baby sleeping comfortably at home in his crib. I cried for fifteen minutes straight before I could even go in and meet my patient.
When I finally composed myself, I entered my patient's room. She was cradling her sweet little girl and singing to her in Spanish. Over and over again she repeated "Hello my sweet, beautiful princess! I LOVE you! You are so beautiful, my dear sweet girl! My princess, my princess." She had such a wonderful smile on her face. I was completely shocked. I expected to see eyes red and swollen from crying. I expected sorrow and despair. And instead, I was witness to her smiling and loving on her little baby. In her eyes, her daughter was beautiful and precious and she was SO grateful for every moment she got to hold her and kiss her and look at her.
At first, I thought "Surely, this woman must not know what is going on. She must not understand the situation clearly." And then I remembered that she knows EXACTLY what is going on. She has been through this before. She knows EXACTLY what to expect. And instead of crying, she has chosen to REJOICE. She has chosen not to waste a MINUTE of her short time with her daughter in sorrowing.
I was deeply touched. After checking on mother and baby, I left her room and again cried for fifteen minutes before I could return and actually be her nurse for the rest of the night.
That shift I witnessed something truly special, truly extraordinary. This woman understood what life is all about. It is about cherishing the moments and finding beauty everywhere. It is about rejoicing in the time we have and focusing on JOY.
I have thought many times about how I would react in her situation. I don't think I can truly know unless it happened to me, but what I DO know, is that this worldly experience is just temporary. There is life after death and our trials and burdens won't last. In fact, I believe that some of our hardest moments are some of our most spiritual. We can find ourselves incredibly close to God during those times that we feel our world has crumbled to pieces.
This last week, my church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, held it's semi-annual General Conference. We heard from leaders of our church for 10 hours over a 2 day span. It was marvelous and uplifting in every way. One of our apostles, Dieter F. Uchtdorf, gave this beautiful talk entitled Grateful in Any Circumstances. I thought of this sweet patient and her daughter as I listened on Sunday. Here are some of my favorite parts:
The nurse that I was relieving pulled me aside to explain what was going on with this patient. Our patient had just delivered a little girl. This girl had some extremely severe and incredibly rare developmental malformations that aren't compatible with life. Most babies affected by this disorder never make it even close to term. This precious little one made it to term but would now be put on comfort measures only. She wouldn't make it long, considering these malformations made it impossible to eat and many of her organs weren't functional.
On top of all this, my patient had already had another baby born with the exact same disorder a couple years back. She had already gone through the pain and sorrow and grief of slowly watching one child pass away and now would have to go through it again.
All I could think about was my healthy, happy, perfect baby sleeping comfortably at home in his crib. I cried for fifteen minutes straight before I could even go in and meet my patient.
When I finally composed myself, I entered my patient's room. She was cradling her sweet little girl and singing to her in Spanish. Over and over again she repeated "Hello my sweet, beautiful princess! I LOVE you! You are so beautiful, my dear sweet girl! My princess, my princess." She had such a wonderful smile on her face. I was completely shocked. I expected to see eyes red and swollen from crying. I expected sorrow and despair. And instead, I was witness to her smiling and loving on her little baby. In her eyes, her daughter was beautiful and precious and she was SO grateful for every moment she got to hold her and kiss her and look at her.
At first, I thought "Surely, this woman must not know what is going on. She must not understand the situation clearly." And then I remembered that she knows EXACTLY what is going on. She has been through this before. She knows EXACTLY what to expect. And instead of crying, she has chosen to REJOICE. She has chosen not to waste a MINUTE of her short time with her daughter in sorrowing.
I was deeply touched. After checking on mother and baby, I left her room and again cried for fifteen minutes before I could return and actually be her nurse for the rest of the night.
That shift I witnessed something truly special, truly extraordinary. This woman understood what life is all about. It is about cherishing the moments and finding beauty everywhere. It is about rejoicing in the time we have and focusing on JOY.
I have thought many times about how I would react in her situation. I don't think I can truly know unless it happened to me, but what I DO know, is that this worldly experience is just temporary. There is life after death and our trials and burdens won't last. In fact, I believe that some of our hardest moments are some of our most spiritual. We can find ourselves incredibly close to God during those times that we feel our world has crumbled to pieces.
This last week, my church, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, held it's semi-annual General Conference. We heard from leaders of our church for 10 hours over a 2 day span. It was marvelous and uplifting in every way. One of our apostles, Dieter F. Uchtdorf, gave this beautiful talk entitled Grateful in Any Circumstances. I thought of this sweet patient and her daughter as I listened on Sunday. Here are some of my favorite parts:
"Everyone’s situation is different, and the details of each life are unique. Nevertheless, I have learned that there is something that would take away the bitterness that may come into our lives. There is one thing we can do to make life sweeter, more joyful, even glorious.
We can be grateful!
It might sound contrary to the wisdom of the world to suggest that one who is burdened with sorrow should give thanks to God. But those who set aside the bottle of bitterness and lift instead the goblet of gratitude can find a purifying drink of healing, peace, and understanding.
We can choose to be grateful, no matter what.
This type of gratitude transcends whatever is happening around us. It surpasses disappointment, discouragement, and despair. It blooms just as beautifully in the icy landscape of winter as it does in the pleasant warmth of summer.
When we are grateful to God in our circumstances, we can experience gentle peace in the midst of tribulation. In grief, we can still lift up our hearts in praise. In pain, we can glory in Christ’s Atonement. In the cold of bitter sorrow, we can experience the closeness and warmth of heaven’s embrace.
We sometimes think that being grateful is what we do after our problems are solved, but how terribly shortsighted that is. How much of life do we miss by waiting to see the rainbow before thanking God that there is rain?
Being grateful in times of distress does not mean that we are pleased with our circumstances. It does mean that through the eyes of faith we look beyond our present-day challenges.
This is not a gratitude of the lips but of the soul. It is a gratitude that heals the heart and expands the mind.
In any circumstance, our sense of gratitude is nourished by the many and sacred truths we do know: that our Father has given His children the great plan of happiness; that through the Atonement of His Son, Jesus Christ, we can live forever with our loved ones; that in the end, we will have glorious, perfect, and immortal bodies, unburdened by sickness or disability; and that our tears of sadness and loss will be replaced with an abundance of happiness and joy, “good measure, pressed down, and shaken together, and running over.'"
*************
What a beautiful reminder. How grateful I am for my savior, Jesus Christ, and the hope and JOY that he gives me. I would be nothing without him.
Friday, April 4, 2014
HAPPY World Down Syndrome Day
My friend shared this a week ago for World Down Syndrome Day. It was so beautiful, so VERY happy.
I am a firm believer that people with Down Syndrome are some of the most wonderful, beautiful, and special individuals in the world. I have known many of these amazing individuals over my life time and every single one has been a light and a blessing to me. Their smiles brighten up the room and make everyone live life a little lighter. They are stars in my book.
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Some Pretty Darn Amazing Women
Last night, all the women in my church, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, ages 8 years old and up met together for a meeting. It was held in the beautiful Conference Center in Salt Lake City, UT but it was broadcast to meeting houses all over the world. The leaders of our church spoke to us and gave us the most uplifting messages. There was beautiful music and moving videos. I walked away feeling uplifted and invigorated. If you want to listen to the broadcast, you can find it HERE.
As I sat in our chapel, surrounded by so many wonderful women, I felt a sweet sisterhood with them all. It ALMOST took away the sting of not sitting with my mother and sisters, who I knew were also listening in THEIR meetinghouses elsewhere in the country. I have been blessed to have wonderful family. My mother is as selfless as they come. I treasure my memories of her and love the time I get with her. My older sister is such a role-model to me. Being 6 years my elder, she has experienced all life's major events before me and handled them all with just poise and wisdom. My younger sister is my best buddy and I have had more fun with her over the years than I have had with ANYONE else and my heart is forever tied to her.
So last night I missed them. A lot.
But the pain of separation is SO worth the happiness I have received from having them in my life!
In the meantime, I am so grateful that I am surrounded by so many wonderful gals out here that are taking care of me and loving me and including me.
Life is good.
As I sat in our chapel, surrounded by so many wonderful women, I felt a sweet sisterhood with them all. It ALMOST took away the sting of not sitting with my mother and sisters, who I knew were also listening in THEIR meetinghouses elsewhere in the country. I have been blessed to have wonderful family. My mother is as selfless as they come. I treasure my memories of her and love the time I get with her. My older sister is such a role-model to me. Being 6 years my elder, she has experienced all life's major events before me and handled them all with just poise and wisdom. My younger sister is my best buddy and I have had more fun with her over the years than I have had with ANYONE else and my heart is forever tied to her.
So last night I missed them. A lot.
But the pain of separation is SO worth the happiness I have received from having them in my life!
In the meantime, I am so grateful that I am surrounded by so many wonderful gals out here that are taking care of me and loving me and including me.
Life is good.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Spring!!!
Spring is HERE!!! It has been the 5th coldest winter in Minnesota on record. In the last 150 years, only 4 winters have been colder. I am a Texas girl. I'm not MADE for the cold. The average temperature was in single digits. We almost set the record for most days below zero, as in zero FAHRENHEIT. BRRR!!! We had plenty of days when it was so bitterly COLD that school was cancelled because it was dangerous to be outside for 5 minutes even. You could boil water and then throw it up in the air outside and turn it into snow. It was CRAZY.
And yet I made it through. I thought that I would get some sort of seasonal depression but I didn't, which I GREATLY appreciate. And now we are done. Today it was sunny and we had a high of 42 degrees! Absolutely incredible. The piles lining our driveway and sidewalk that were as tall as I am are now melting and I can SEE my lawn in a few places. I saw a small river moving down my street. Our small family was outside for ages today tromping around in our snow stuff. Soon it will be shorts and sandals!
Spring, I am welcoming you with the biggest hug EVER!
Food coloring
I absolutely LOVE St. Patrick's Day. There is something terribly exciting about planning how many ways you can incorporate GREEN and shamrock shapes into every meal : ) green eggs, shamrock french toast, green milk, shamrock quesadillas, green jello, green veggie straws, green applesauce, green mashed potatoes, green beans, shamrock biscuits, etc.
Not sure what makes me happier, seeing the excitement on my 2 year old's face from a plate full of funny green foods or seeing my husbands disgust!
Hope you had an awesome St. Patty's Day!!!
Not sure what makes me happier, seeing the excitement on my 2 year old's face from a plate full of funny green foods or seeing my husbands disgust!
Hope you had an awesome St. Patty's Day!!!
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Favorite Things
A huge group of gals from my church got together the other day to have a "Favorite Things" party. It was awesome to hear everyone's favorite songs and learn a little bit more about these ladies and what they love.
If you've never been to a favorite things party, you bring multiple of something that you adore and wrap them up separately and trade them all around and end up with some new "favorite things" from the other gals. I absolutely LOVE pedicures and my favorite part of the pedicure besides the painted toes is the sugar scrub. LOVE sugar scrubs : ) so I made some!
Here was my basic recipe:
2/3 c coconut oil (purchased at Costco)
1/3 c avocado oil (purchased at Costco)
2 c granulated sugar
1 lime zested
Lime and coconut flavoring oils (purchased online from the Gygi Company- one of my favorite stores ever, located in Salt Lake City, UT)
I mixed them all together and put them in adorable jars. Now these lucky ladies get to enjoy the magnificence of coconut-lime sugar scrubs ; ) here's to spreading happiness in a jar!
If you've never been to a favorite things party, you bring multiple of something that you adore and wrap them up separately and trade them all around and end up with some new "favorite things" from the other gals. I absolutely LOVE pedicures and my favorite part of the pedicure besides the painted toes is the sugar scrub. LOVE sugar scrubs : ) so I made some!
Here was my basic recipe:
2/3 c coconut oil (purchased at Costco)
1/3 c avocado oil (purchased at Costco)
2 c granulated sugar
1 lime zested
Lime and coconut flavoring oils (purchased online from the Gygi Company- one of my favorite stores ever, located in Salt Lake City, UT)
I mixed them all together and put them in adorable jars. Now these lucky ladies get to enjoy the magnificence of coconut-lime sugar scrubs ; ) here's to spreading happiness in a jar!
On Hearing
Do you remember THIS post?!
It was one of the first blog posts I did on here, all about the miracles of hearing and medicine. I find it ironic that I have had such a strong interest in cochlear transplants, one that started over a decade ago, and I now have a daughter that quite possibly will be a candidate for one some day!
We learned of our daughter's hearing loss on the very day that she was born but are still trying to figure out the extent of it. Turns out it is hard to determine what all a baby can hear because they can't tell you what they are hearing! So far, we believe she has moderate to severe loss in one ear, necessitating a hearing aid. We will learn more the older she gets!
Our daughter has had her hearing aid for 4 weeks now. Already we have seen such a change in her responses to sounds. Over the last 6 months, as I have been tutored by audiologists, I have gained such an appreciation for all the every day things that my daughter will struggle with. I hear a noise and INSTANTLY know exactly where that noise is coming from. In crowded rooms, it isn't difficult for me to zone into a particular conversation and completely ignore all the others that are happening around me. If a person is talking to me while facing another direction, I can still tell what that person is saying. In school, chairs scrapping across the floor, fingers tapping on the desk, or pencils scribbling on paper were not a major distraction that effected my learning. These are all challenges that my sweet daughter will have to learn to live with.
All that being said, our daughter can still HEAR. She loves to laugh. She already shows a great appreciation for music. She enjoys experimenting with noises; banging metal spoons on pots, crinkling newspapers, shaking rattles, etc. Despite her handicap, she LOVES noise and she has reminded me to be grateful for noise.
Some of my favorite noises:
-Laughter; I don't think there is anything better than pure, wonderful laughter. Nothing makes me smile like hearing my husband or my children laugh
-Music; I love every instrument in different ways. All move me and fill my heart with beauty
-Sounds of nature; gurgling brooks, wind in trees, rain on rooftops, chirping of birds, waves on the sand
It was one of the first blog posts I did on here, all about the miracles of hearing and medicine. I find it ironic that I have had such a strong interest in cochlear transplants, one that started over a decade ago, and I now have a daughter that quite possibly will be a candidate for one some day!
We learned of our daughter's hearing loss on the very day that she was born but are still trying to figure out the extent of it. Turns out it is hard to determine what all a baby can hear because they can't tell you what they are hearing! So far, we believe she has moderate to severe loss in one ear, necessitating a hearing aid. We will learn more the older she gets!
Our daughter has had her hearing aid for 4 weeks now. Already we have seen such a change in her responses to sounds. Over the last 6 months, as I have been tutored by audiologists, I have gained such an appreciation for all the every day things that my daughter will struggle with. I hear a noise and INSTANTLY know exactly where that noise is coming from. In crowded rooms, it isn't difficult for me to zone into a particular conversation and completely ignore all the others that are happening around me. If a person is talking to me while facing another direction, I can still tell what that person is saying. In school, chairs scrapping across the floor, fingers tapping on the desk, or pencils scribbling on paper were not a major distraction that effected my learning. These are all challenges that my sweet daughter will have to learn to live with.
All that being said, our daughter can still HEAR. She loves to laugh. She already shows a great appreciation for music. She enjoys experimenting with noises; banging metal spoons on pots, crinkling newspapers, shaking rattles, etc. Despite her handicap, she LOVES noise and she has reminded me to be grateful for noise.
Some of my favorite noises:
-Laughter; I don't think there is anything better than pure, wonderful laughter. Nothing makes me smile like hearing my husband or my children laugh
-Music; I love every instrument in different ways. All move me and fill my heart with beauty
-Sounds of nature; gurgling brooks, wind in trees, rain on rooftops, chirping of birds, waves on the sand
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Exertion
One of my cure-alls for a bad day is exercise. Hard, intense exercise. There is something incredibly energizing about working your body until it is exhausted. I love taking off down the road in my running shoes and going till my legs just won't go any more. My new favorite (since this cold weather up north is kicking my trash) is group cycling. I bought a gym membership and go to the spinning classes as often as possible. They have these teachers that are SO good at motivating me to push myself as hard as I possibly can. I know that for 55 minutes, my time on the bike is MY time. No distractions. No kids needing my attention, no dinner to cook, no house to clean. Just my mind and my body, working together. It is my time to sweat and pant and feel my body getting stronger as I am pushing it till it is weak. I LOVE it.
I could give you all sorts of stats from research articles telling you the benefits of exercise but I'm not going to. It is just awesome and it will make you feel awesome. I sleep deeper. I like myself more. I have more energy. I stand taller and sit straighter. I move quicker. I think clearer. We are MADE to be pushed and tested. Our bodies and minds need it.
It is good.
And I am happier.
I could give you all sorts of stats from research articles telling you the benefits of exercise but I'm not going to. It is just awesome and it will make you feel awesome. I sleep deeper. I like myself more. I have more energy. I stand taller and sit straighter. I move quicker. I think clearer. We are MADE to be pushed and tested. Our bodies and minds need it.
It is good.
And I am happier.
Monday, March 3, 2014
Life Goes On
Every Monday night, members of our church the whole world over gather together in their own families in their own homes to have an evening dedicated to family growth and unity. These Family Home Evenings, as they are called, usually involve the singing of hymns, scripture study, lessons on gospel topics, prayer, and sometimes a fun activity and dessert. In my childhood home, I always loved our family nights. They were fun and happy and brought a good feeling into our homes. I was blessed to have wonderful parents that were dedicated to God and knew the importance of raising their children to have devotion to the Lord as well. I can remember many of the lessons that my parents gave to us. I have fond memories of us all playing games together and bonding over some delicious treat. One thing I so looked forward to in having my own family was implementing these Family Home Evenings.
Our oldest is two now and old enough to sit through a short lesson (at least KINDA sit through it...) and even remember some of what we teach and I LOVE that we get to start the tradition of family nights in our home. Each time I have the opportunity to tell him about his Heavenly Father or Jesus Christ or prophets it just reaffirms my own faith. Today, our lesson was about God's plan for us. We talked about how God is the father of our spirits and how we lived with Him before we came to earth. We talked about how God made this beautiful world and everything in it for us. We talked about our bodies that He gave us and how special they are, that they are similar to His body. We talked about how this life is time to learn and be happy and be grateful for all that God made and help others. And then we taught that when this life is over, we get to go back to Heaven and be with God again and how happy that will be. We talked about the different members of our families that have already gone back to heaven before us, how they are waiting for us and will hug us when we get there, and how God and Jesus especially will be wanting to hug us.
Aren't these beautiful truths to be able to teach a child. Is there anything more important to teach a child than who they are, where they came from, why they are here, and what happens next? And is there anything happier?
As we were discussing our family members that have passed beyond this life, I found my heart filled with gratitude that I will have a chance to see and hug these members of our family again and that Nathan will be able to meet them some day. That is the silver lining behind the sting of death, that death is not the end, and that we can continue these beautiful family relationships beyond this earth.
Happy isn't even the right word for how wonderful that makes me feel.
Our oldest is two now and old enough to sit through a short lesson (at least KINDA sit through it...) and even remember some of what we teach and I LOVE that we get to start the tradition of family nights in our home. Each time I have the opportunity to tell him about his Heavenly Father or Jesus Christ or prophets it just reaffirms my own faith. Today, our lesson was about God's plan for us. We talked about how God is the father of our spirits and how we lived with Him before we came to earth. We talked about how God made this beautiful world and everything in it for us. We talked about our bodies that He gave us and how special they are, that they are similar to His body. We talked about how this life is time to learn and be happy and be grateful for all that God made and help others. And then we taught that when this life is over, we get to go back to Heaven and be with God again and how happy that will be. We talked about the different members of our families that have already gone back to heaven before us, how they are waiting for us and will hug us when we get there, and how God and Jesus especially will be wanting to hug us.
Aren't these beautiful truths to be able to teach a child. Is there anything more important to teach a child than who they are, where they came from, why they are here, and what happens next? And is there anything happier?
As we were discussing our family members that have passed beyond this life, I found my heart filled with gratitude that I will have a chance to see and hug these members of our family again and that Nathan will be able to meet them some day. That is the silver lining behind the sting of death, that death is not the end, and that we can continue these beautiful family relationships beyond this earth.
Happy isn't even the right word for how wonderful that makes me feel.
Sunday, March 2, 2014
Our True Identity
Today at church, we had a marvelous lesson about strengthening our relationship with ourselves. Too often we are too hard on ourselves. We are our worst critic. Things that we might never say to another person, we inwardly say to ourselves. We set expectations for ourselves that we would never set for overs. We berate ourselves when we do not meet those expectations.
During our lesson, I was reminded that we are loved by the creator of the universe, a person that has all power and is all knowing, a god that organizes worlds and moves stars. If He cares for us, we MUST be of tremendous worth. Doesn't that make you feel important? Doesn't that make your heart sing within you knowing that you are of value to the most important being in all creation? Can you not feel your soul fill with light as you remember your divine origins as children of God?
As I sat holding my sleeping baby girl the other night, I was amazed by how truly beautiful and precious she is. I know and love every curve of her face; her sweet button nose, her long delicate eyelashes, her plump rosy cheeks, the soft roundness of her chin. I have stared at that face so often that I could easily draw it from memory. I look at her face and see pure perfection.
And then I realized that my sweet mother surely thought the same thing of me when I was her little baby girl, rocking me to sleep in the late hours of the night. I am certain that her heart burned with all the same feelings of love and awe that mine do now. I think of how hard I have been on myself over the years. How it must have broken her heart to see me so hateful of the nose that she probably kissed over and over and over when I was a baby. Surely it made her cry to see the drastic measures I took to be thin and desirable to the world when she thought I was perfect the way I was. I know now the perfect love of a mother and want desperately for my daughter to know how truly marvelous she is.
If us terribly imperfect beings can love our children so deeply, how much more does God love HIS children. I am sure that it is incomprehensible. We have reason to rejoice in his love.
Our teacher shared this beautiful video with us about self-worth. It is one of the many uplifting Mormon Messages videos produced by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. This one is based on a talk given by one of our apostles, Dieter F. Uchtdorf. Enjoy!
Our True Identity
During our lesson, I was reminded that we are loved by the creator of the universe, a person that has all power and is all knowing, a god that organizes worlds and moves stars. If He cares for us, we MUST be of tremendous worth. Doesn't that make you feel important? Doesn't that make your heart sing within you knowing that you are of value to the most important being in all creation? Can you not feel your soul fill with light as you remember your divine origins as children of God?
As I sat holding my sleeping baby girl the other night, I was amazed by how truly beautiful and precious she is. I know and love every curve of her face; her sweet button nose, her long delicate eyelashes, her plump rosy cheeks, the soft roundness of her chin. I have stared at that face so often that I could easily draw it from memory. I look at her face and see pure perfection.
And then I realized that my sweet mother surely thought the same thing of me when I was her little baby girl, rocking me to sleep in the late hours of the night. I am certain that her heart burned with all the same feelings of love and awe that mine do now. I think of how hard I have been on myself over the years. How it must have broken her heart to see me so hateful of the nose that she probably kissed over and over and over when I was a baby. Surely it made her cry to see the drastic measures I took to be thin and desirable to the world when she thought I was perfect the way I was. I know now the perfect love of a mother and want desperately for my daughter to know how truly marvelous she is.
If us terribly imperfect beings can love our children so deeply, how much more does God love HIS children. I am sure that it is incomprehensible. We have reason to rejoice in his love.
Our teacher shared this beautiful video with us about self-worth. It is one of the many uplifting Mormon Messages videos produced by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. This one is based on a talk given by one of our apostles, Dieter F. Uchtdorf. Enjoy!
Our True Identity
One Beautiful Year
I haven't added anything to this blog in almost a year. It has been a year of some tremendous changes and I felt the need to settle in, adjust, and appreciate those changes a little without worrying about capturing them on this blog. Have you ever been in a really good lecture or lesson and force yourself to just set down your pen, keep your paper blank, and just LISTEN and enjoy what is being said. I find that sometimes I get so caught up in keeping record of what is going on that I don't fully appreciate what is actually going on. Like when I see a beautiful sunset or gorgeous waves on the beach or the smiles of my children and try so hard to catch it on camera and then miss the opportunity to just savor the moment. That's how I felt about blogging this last year.
That being said, I'm going to start back up again. We left our old home and town of 4 years almost 50 weeks ago. We moved to a new state and bought our first house almost 10 months ago. Almost 9 months ago, I gave birth to my second child and my husband started his first post-graduate job. Between adjusting to being the wife of a resident, the mother of two wonderful yet busy children, a first-time homeowner, and starting a new life in a totally new town and state, my life has been so full that sometimes I forget to appreciate that it is full of JOY.
I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. We believe that we are children of God and that we are here to learn and to grow and to be HAPPY. In the Book of Mormon, our companion scripture to the Bible, the attitude that we should have about life is clearly stated. It says "Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have JOY" (2 Nephi 2:25). God wishes for us to be happy, to rejoice, to cherish life.
Here's to happiness
That being said, I'm going to start back up again. We left our old home and town of 4 years almost 50 weeks ago. We moved to a new state and bought our first house almost 10 months ago. Almost 9 months ago, I gave birth to my second child and my husband started his first post-graduate job. Between adjusting to being the wife of a resident, the mother of two wonderful yet busy children, a first-time homeowner, and starting a new life in a totally new town and state, my life has been so full that sometimes I forget to appreciate that it is full of JOY.
I am a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. We believe that we are children of God and that we are here to learn and to grow and to be HAPPY. In the Book of Mormon, our companion scripture to the Bible, the attitude that we should have about life is clearly stated. It says "Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have JOY" (2 Nephi 2:25). God wishes for us to be happy, to rejoice, to cherish life.
Here's to happiness
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