Making Enough of Me: September 2014

Monday, September 29, 2014

The reason we went -- Part 3

I heard his call, I followed Him, and cast my net to all at sea.

Then caught up in a wave of joy, I found His net had gathered me.

I think I was a pretty naive 24 year old when I left on my mission to Washington D.C. I thought I was doing this great service and that I would be blessed for doing so.

I was doing a great service.

I was blessed for doing so.

But It wasn't about me. Not ever.

When my companion and I were back visiting a few weeks ago, I realized that truth more and more. It was the Lord's work. He would have gotten it done whether I boarded that flight after 9/11 or not. And this sweet family would have been found if Bingy and I decided to go ahead and call it a day and not knock one more door. It wasn't me who did all these great things, it was the Lord. And He gave me the greatest gift by letting me take part in it.

We went on our mission to find them but in the end we found ourselves and found Christ. And our lives will never be the same. Ever.

And we went on the trip because The Lord loved us enough to give us that reminder. I won't ever forget it.

She was born after I left the mission

and now we share the same name...

My companion and I taught and baptized this sweet girl, too.
Recently she stopped coming to church and we were determined to find her and invite her back.

We were so happy she received us and I loved that she and I both just had baby girls!

The future missionary

Coming off the plane I was so excited to see her wearing a missionary nametag!

When she got closer, I saw what it actually said.

It was my nametag that I had given her 12 years before.

You know that verse in the Doctrine and Covenants that says,

"How great shall be your joy!"

Yeah, that's kind of an understatement.

I loved this girl like she was my daughter way back when.

I had to get a picture of these two together.

Passing the baton to this wonderful girl.

See you in 18 months, Hermanita!

Sunday, September 28, 2014

Even unuttered prayers get answered

Remember when I wrote that parable post three months ago about the Steri-strips not hurting if they get ripped off fast? I said then that I thought ripping things off fast was still painful. But maybe I was wrong because this slow removal of the strips is killing me.

It's been three months today since we said our goodbyes. People have done far worse and for much longer. I wish that brought me more comfort. Tonight my heart is heavy because I am currently going through the longest period of time with zero contact. The not knowing and the wondering is what is killing me. Trying to keep a stiff upper lip in front of my littles is proving to be difficult, but I am doing it. Darn the shower and late nights because that's the only time I am by myself and that's when I am not as strong as I should be.

The other day I had to take Makenna to the doctor. I had been putting it off because I feel like I have so much "experience" taking care of my Marcus all these years and his respiratory ailments, but she wasn't getting better. After four nights of very little sleep (think middle of the night breathing treatments for one baby and nursing another simultaneously), I had reached my end. We drove up to the base and saw the doctor. It ended up that she had pneumonia in her right lung, and a pretty big spot of it at that. She had to have an x-ray, so the military doc (who is about as kind as they come) sent me to an adjacent office on base where they do radiology. When I walked up to the window the lab tech took one look at me and then at my baby in my arms (who has to go with me pretty much everywhere because I am her source of nourishment), and said they couldn't do an x-ray on Makenna because she was too young to be alone. I told her I would go in with her and she said no because I had the baby. I said I would just put her outside the door in her car seat asleep and she would be fine. Again, no, that wasn't allowed. "Well what would you have me do then?" I asked, trying to get her to be a bit more flexible. Surely I wasn't the first person who ever came with a small baby and another child in tow. "Well, can't you just call your spouse to come and sit with the baby?" Her words stung me to my core. I felt the burning sensation in my eyes and the lump getting larger in my throat. "No, I can't just call him." And then my voice cracked and the tears flowed as I told her where he was. (Shocker. We were on a military base.) She asked if I had someone, and I explained that I was alone and had no one and was 35 minutes from my sister's house. She rolled her eyes --oh yes, she did-- and said she would go ask the doctor what he wanted to do. I excused myself to the bathroom and hid in a stall while Makenna rocked Maegan in the car seat and I sobbed. And sobbed. And sobbed. (Thankfully a kind woman in the lobby saw my plight and offered to sit with the baby. And when I got back to the doctor's office he was so upset and so apologetic that had happened. He said she should have glanced down at my chart to see the big old capital D for deployment, but she didn't.) Makenna is getting better, but I've not been able to completely pull myself out of the pain that whole experience and absolute feeling of aloneness caused me.

With General Conference coming up, my heart is turning more towards prayerful and heartfelt pondering, as I prepare for what the Lord needs to tell me through the mouths of His holy prophets. Last night we had the wonderful Women's meeting where the women from our faith all over the world gathered to be instructed together. As I was thinking about it this past week I wondered if I dare pray that someone could say something to offer me comfort as a military wife. Surely the events of the week had just about done me in. But, I will be honest. I didn't actually offer the prayer, though it was surely in my heart. Last week at the re-dedication services of the Ogden Temple, another unuttered but heartfelt prayer was answered when one of the sisters that spoke talked about military service, separation, and comfort that comes from the Lord. I was amazed then and surely didn't expect to have an un-offered prayer answered twice. Truthfully I didn't dare offer it because I felt a bit selfish asking for something that shouldn't be as difficult as I am making it.

But my Father knows me. He loves me. He knows my heart and spoke directly to it.

Sister Jean Stevens stood and spoke about the strength and power that comes from keeping covenants. (Which was ironic to me since that's the subject I had to speak on in Stake Conference a few weeks before my husband left. Surely the Lord was telling me something back then, too.) She shared the example of her beautiful mother who went without any type of fanfare for her wedding so she could send her husband on a mission. They were apart for two years, just six days after they married.

She said:

Their clear focus was on the temple and their covenants. For them, the covenants were everything….Their marriage was more than just the deep love they had for each other. They also had a love of the Lord and a desire to serve Him. The sacred temple covenants they had made gave them strength and power to carry them through the two years of separation. They had an eternal perspective of life’s purpose and of promised blessings that come to those who are faithful to their covenants. All these blessings transcended their short term sacrifice and separation.

Oh, how my heart was humbled! Three months vs. two years? Yeah, I haven't been asked to do something that difficult. I felt the Lord's love speak to me as I listened to what she said. I knew the Lord had heard the prayer in my heart and was satisfied with what I heard.

But then she said this:

Three years later WW2 was raging.... He was away from home for four more years while serving in the Navy. It was a difficult time for my parents to be separated again. But for my mother those days of loneliness, worry, and uncertainty were also marked by whisperings of the Spirit that spoke of eternal promises, of comfort and peace amid the storm. Despite her challenges, my mother lived a rich life full of happiness, joy, love, and service. Her love of the Savior was reflected in the way she lived her life. She had a remarkable connection to heaven and a gift and capacity to love and bless everyone around her. In all the seasons of her life, they were marked by her love of the Lord and the covenants she faithfully kept.

I couldn't believe it. And yet, I could believe it. He had heard the prayer in my heart and spoke directly to me in my time of serious need as a military wife. In addition to needing comfort on that subject, I had actually prayed that during all these sessions of conference (including the women's session), I would learn how to be a better mother and a better wife to my husband when he returns. So not only did the Lord answer the prayer in my heart, He answered the one that I gave vocally as well.

This short season of my life is ending soon, and I will be a better person for having been through it. I want to be one of those strong women who can do pretty much anything and do it well. For now that's not me. But I'm taking good notes so that the next time this happens, I will be better prepared. (Because it will happen. Thankfully, however, I won't have a tiny baby to take care of when it does, nor will I be in school full time, homeschooling my other kids, or living out of a suitcase in someone else's home.) For now I will cling to those covenants and promises, and relish in the blessings and answered prayers my Father continues to give me. (And stay away from all civilian lab-techs, too.)

Monday, September 22, 2014

D.C. Day 2-- Is this really happening?

In addition to being able to see the family we had found, taught, and baptized, my companion and I were privileged to see another eternal friend we made so many years ago while on our recent adventure to D.C.

When I first got to the area of Falls Church, VA, in April 2002, and was assigned to Hermana Bingham as my companion, she had already been teaching a sweet woman named Hilda from El Salvador with her former companion. Hilda had not committed to baptism yet but right off I knew we had a special connection and that she was what they called "golden."

Sometime in May she accepted our challenge to be baptized and was baptized shortly thereafter. I loved being with Hilda because we always LAUGHED. And there was such a goodness and a sweetness to her, it was infectious. Right after I was married, my husband and I went back to D.C. to be her escorts as she entered the temple. (Hermana Bingham was there, too. We have done all of this together!)

Hilda was the 2nd person I called when I got my tickets to D.C. and arrangements were made for us to stay with her at a close friend's beautiful home. She also knows this special family from Argentina and so it worked out perfectly that she would be part of all of the festivities over the weekend.

With our sweet eternal friends

I actually didn't recognize her when I saw her, which I still feel so badly about! But in my defense her hair is a lot shorter and tomorrow I have an eye appointment to get glasses so I am finally not so blind. As soon as we were together, the laughter commenced and it was as if we had never said goodbye 10 years prior. A decade! I kept saying that I couldn't believe it had been that long. We vowed to not let that happen again.

Poor Maegan was pretty maxed out by a long day of travel and unfamiliarity so we left around 9 PM to put her to bed. Once she was good and asleep, Hilda, Bingy, and I stayed up way too late like a bunch of silly teenagers and laughed until our eyes were swollen from tears and exhaustion.

When we finally decided to call it a night around 1:30 AM, I was so hyper I couldn't sleep. I texted my husband and since his day was pretty much beginning, we were able to Facetime. I just kept telling him over and over that I couldn't believe this was all happening. It just didn't seem like so many miracles and tender mercies were possible. He loved seeing the perma-grin on my face, which wasn't as sweet as it could have been only because he wasn't there with me to enjoy it all in person. (It was his mission too!)

The next morning we woke up to a beautiful breakfast by our sweet Hilda and then she took us out to brunch (memories of all the eating in the mission were quickly becoming a reality once again) at her daughter's restaurant. She didn't want to let baby Maegan out of her sight and we had the best time catching up and finally enjoying time with no restrictions. When we were in the mission, we typically taught her lessons later in the evening and then always had to rush to get home on time. I was always sad because I wanted more time with her. This visit we just soaked it all in and talked and laughed as much as we wanted to. It felt like no time had passed at all and we were able to pick up right where we left off.

We wanted to be tourists if only for a few hours so we could get some little presents for our babies back home. Hilda happily obliged and accompanied us into downtown. We felt so rebellious driving into the District because we were never allowed to as missionaries. I was loving every minute of it, having the best of both worlds with me: Mission and D.C., my two favorite things ever.

Our first stop was at Arlington Cemetery to see the Iwo Jima/Marine Corps Memorial, mainly because I had my husband's military service on my brain and wanted some pictures. I have seen this place countless times and it never gets old or less sacred, that's for sure. It was POURING buckets and poor baby Maegan was trying her best to keep it together. Thankfully Hilda has the faith to move mountains and offered a prayer for the weather to clear up and it clear up it did!

We also visited the beautiful and new WWII Memorial, which I hadn't seen before. Hilda pushed Maegan all over the site so I could enjoy it on my own, thinking about my husband obviously, and my Dad's service in the Pacific. (I took a lot of pics there, too, and will have to post those another time.) After the rain finally stopped we went to the American History Museum to make some purchases for our kiddos. I got me this awesome hat because I never buy myself anything. Hilda spoiled us and bought shirts for our kids because she wanted to do something for them. She really is such a lovely, genuine person. My life is better because I know her.

We stood here and took a picture just before she was baptized over 12 years ago.

On Sunday we had the missionary farewell, but sat with Hilda at church. While taking this picture, several ward members were waiting to say hello and everyone was snapping pictures. I'm no Angelina Jolie, but it was quite surreal. I couldn't stop smiling there was so much love in that place. Sitting together with her in church and then attending her Sunday School class where SHE was teaching the investigators the gospel, was almost too much and I sat in the back of the room, feeding the baby, silently sobbing to myself. I just couldn't believe I was blessed with such a gift, being there to witness and be a part of something so miraculous. I took it all in, minute by minute, wishing that time could stand still and I could stay forever.

On Monday morning we had to leave for the airport and Hilda had to leave for work, so after extending our time together as long as we possibly could, it was finally time to say Hasta Luego....not Adios. I cried so much when we hugged one last time. I love this woman and I know we were friends before this life on earth. I have no way to prove it, but I know it to be true. She is one of the Lord's most faithful and trusted servant's and I'm honored to know her and to be part of her life story.

But wait, there's more....

And now it came to pass that as Alma was journeying.... to his astonishment, he met with the sons of Mosiah ...

...Alma did rejoice exceedingly to see his brethren; and what added more to his joy, they were still his brethren in the Lord; yea, and they had waxed strong in the knowledge of the truth; for they were men of a sound understanding and they had searched the scriptures diligently, that they might know the word of God.

But this is not all; they had given themselves to much prayer, and fasting; therefore they had the spirit of prophecy, and the spirit of revelation, and when they taught, they taught with power and authority of God.

Alma 17

Sunday, September 21, 2014

I cannot say the smallest part I feel

In my last post where I shared the miraculous intervention of the heavens bringing my sweet missionary companion and I back together again, I mentioned there was a second part of the story that I would write about later. I had to wait to post about it because it was such a huge surprise.

The story I want to share has about a million little miracles all wrapped up into one giant perfect weekend package. It commenced with me heading home. Not back to my house but rather to the place my heart resides and feels most comfortable....

After running into my sweet companion, Hermana Bingham, plans quickly came together rather miraculously for her to join me on a trip back to our mission to attend the missionary farewell of a very sweet and special young woman. She is the oldest daughter of the sweet family from Argentina that Hermana Bingham and I had found tracting (knocking doors) in April 2002.

Just a few days after we met after we met this family in 2002

And the family baptism just a few months later

Wedding reception we held in the mission after we were married

July 2003

It was Bingy and Gleason together again, where we drove to the airport in SLC and took separate flights into Washington D.C. I waited for her plane to land and then we were off on the Metro to surprise our special family. The family knew that I was coming but didn't know that Bingy would be coming with me.

My emotions were very near the surface as we made our final descent to the place I had grown to love since I was a child. The fact that I had been blessed to serve my mission there was further proof of God's awareness and love for me. Being able to return countless times has been such a gift in my life. This time would be different than all the rest, however. This time I knew what I was going to do, who I was going to see, but I didn't know the extent of how it would feel.

I didn't have to wonder very long.

Waiting at the metro for them to come and see their surprise!

Shout out to baby Maegan who was such a trooper on this trip.

The looks on their faces when they pulled up to get us were priceless. I was literally jumping up and down! Amidst tears and laughter and a quick brush up of our Spanish, we celebrated the most wonderful reunion AND the birthday of the dad of the family. It was one of the best nights of my life and I kept waiting for someone to wake me up from such an incredible dream.

Reunited after 10 years!

I honestly wouldn't know where to begin to describe the feelings of this very special once in a lifetime weekend. It was like the perfect storm, but a positive one. Everything came together at just the right time and the Heavens opened up and poured down a million tender mercies on my head. Even if I were to share every detail, it wouldn't come close to describing how it felt to be there and to hear them thank us and to see their growth.

I thought the party would be the best part of the weekend, but it was only just the beginning....

I do not boast in my own strength, nor in my own wisdom; but behold, my joy is full, yea, my heart is brim with joy, and I will rejoice in my God.

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

Behold, how many thousands of our brethren has he loosed from the pains of hell; and they are brought to sing redeeming love, and this because of the power of his word which is in us, therefore have we not great reason to rejoice?

Therefore, let us glory, yea, we will glory in the Lord; yea, we will rejoice, for our joy is full; yea, we will praise our God forever. Behold, who can glory too much in the Lord? Yea, who can say too much of his great power, and of his mercy, and of his long-suffering towards the children of men? Behold, I say unto you, I cannot say the smallest part which I feel.

Alma 26

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

C.Y.M.B. post #3-- And a really cool story

As my little balding brown eyed beauty softly snores next to me, I feel the need to count my blessings and share some tender mercies once again. I have been busy with so many things. I can fill a 24 hour day with about 32 hours of stuff. Even when I'm sleeping, I'm doing something because baby girl is laying next to me getting her nourishment. Before you judge me for sharing my bed with an infant, please know I had to place two things on the scale: A happy, healthy baby who was fed as she desired while trusting my Father in Heaven that He would wake me if something was wrong VS. a tired mommy zombie who gets up every hour or two in the night to feed the baby thus having zero coping skills come morning to take care of the other three who place heavy demands on me. The choice was simple. And we're all much happier for it.

Despite the chaos that seems to be my normal, I do take the time to realize how blessed I have been through this very unplanned, but very much needed journey. The tender mercies have been anything but few and far between.

13. My sister. Oh my sweet sister. She and her family have let my family all but take over their home. They've fed us, cleaned up after us, held the baby for me, listened to me, prayed for us, blessed us, played with my kids, thrown two birthday parties, shared zoo passes, and more. This is a debt I won't ever be able to repay and she has no idea how much her hospitality and generosity has meant. It takes a lot to welcome a tearful mom of three crazies and a baby, and she's done it with an open heart and a willingness to sacrifice a few months of privacy to ensure our comfort. I love her so much. My kids may or may not have asked to live with her permanently on more than one occasion. And subtly told me I was free to go back to Texas if I wanted.

14. Poor Marcus got one of his famous colds over Labor day weekend and I was without medicine. A kind friend rushed to the post office to mail me some of our stash from home (on her daughter's birthday no less!) because our insurance wouldn't pay for another prescription. Another friend and one that I haven't seen since I graduated from high school (!!!) sent me a text out of the blue and offered her services. She's a pediatrician in a hospital and drove up 40 miles away on her day off to listen to Marcus' lungs and check his breathing. Sure enough there was a lot of gunk in there and we now think he actually had that enterovirus that everyone in the news is trying to scare us about. He was so sick and she made everything okay. It truly touched my heart and I will never be able to thank her adequately. Sweet Dr. Charmaine, how precious and generous you are!!

15. I wrote about this next tender mercy on instagram when I shared the picture, but I have to write about it here in detail. It was truly one of those rare moments in life when you know there isn't such things as coincidences. It's all about divine intervention and I believe in it with all of my heart.

In April of 2002 I was serving as a missionary for the LDS church in the Washington D.C. area. I had been recently assigned to a new area with a new companion. On a hot and muggy afternoon, we found ourselves walking up and down flights of stairs, knocking on doors, trying to share the message of the gospel of Jesus Christ. We had one building left to go and had been at it for hours. I was exhausted. I was more than hot. And I was hungry. I wanted to get into our air conditioned car and take our lunch break. My companion encouraged me in her humble and kind way to knock one more building. So we did. And on the top floor, we found them. I will write about them more very soon, but suffice it to say, we found the family we had both come on our missions to find. On July 6th, an equally hot and muggy yet truly miraculous day, they were baptized. You couldn't wipe the smiles off our faces. Not ever.

Like I said, I will write about them soon....

For now I need to tell you about this precious companion of mine. I don't know anyone like her on earth. She is a living angel and someone that I love so dearly. After we were both married and went our separate ways, we lost touch. Christmas cards have been exchanged, but I have never known if the address I had on file was correct until the next Christmas when I would get one in return. But she's always been that special one because of the life-altering experiences we had during those hot and muggy months in Northern Virginia.

Each summer we come to Utah and I wonder where sweet Hermana Bingham is. This trip I was determined to find her, even if it meant stalking her parents in order to track her down. One night just a few weeks ago, I was reading in The Book of Mormon. The verses involved two missionaries being reunited and being overcome by exhaustion on account of their joy. All I could think about when I read those verses was my Hermana Bingham and how I just had to find her.

The next morning I took the kids to the newly renovated Ogden LDS Temple. It was quite a hassle getting them there on time and I was one big hot and sweaty mess by the time the tour was over. I kept mumbling to myself, "What am I doing? this is not worth it!" When we came out the doors into the vast sea of temple goers, we paused briefly to take a picture. My kids weren't having it. They were hungry and hot and the sun was too bright.

Bless their hearts.

They couldn't take a normal picture that day to save their lives.

We were going to walk back to the van and forget the other sites when someone tapped my shoulder.

"Hey you! what are you doing here?"

And there she was. My sweet Hermana Bingham. I fell into her arms and just sobbed. She was used to my sobbing all those years ago, so she let me use her shoulder for my little emotional breakdown.

I couldn't believe it. We just kept hugging and giggling and I kept crying. (She was always the more stable of the two.) It was a miracle. An absolute miracle. Out of all the people I could have seen. Of the many other days and times we could have gone. Even writing it now I can't believe it except for the fact that I lived it!

This one is a tender mercy and a blessing I will count forever. I will write part two of this story in just a few days. It gets better. SO much better. Gleason and Bingy, together again. It's like nothing has changed ... except we both have kids and my hair is gray. Oh, and we don't have to wear those sweaty black skirts nada mas.

I know The Lord loves us. I know God, His Father, our Father, is looking out for us. We are His children. He sent His son to earth to make it possible for us to return to live together as a family forever. We are not alone. He cares about us and is with us as much as we allow Him to be. He is aware of what's happening to my husband in a war zone far away and He is aware of me wanting to see my Hermana Bingham and he is aware of you. He lives and He loves us. He lives to love us.

I can't wait to share part two of this amazing reunion story...