It Could Have Been Me

This... this is why I do what I do. 

I was driving to my grandparents and saw a young woman standing on the corner holding a sign. I drove right past her, like I usually do since most people just don’t want the type of help I can offer (they just want money for sitting on a corner). But something told me to go back. And after some internal arguing, I did.

I got out of my car and joined her on the corner. I could read her sign clearly now “Widow with children. We are short on rent and utilities. Any help would be great.”

As you can imagine… the word widow caught my attention. I could have easily been her.

First I informed her I worked for United Way (so I wasn’t just some random creepy person asking probing questions) and then began assessing her situation. Did she have a shut off notice? An eviction notice? What had she already done? Where did she live? Did they have food? And how did she ended up in this situation…

Her husband of ten years committed suicide a year and a half ago. She had 2 little girls. The youngest is just now in kindergarten. Although she gets SSI, the income is small because her husband had worked very little during the ten years. His grief over his inability to keep a job combined with mental illness led to the choice he made to take his own life. She lived right down the street and worked at the McDonald’s across the street because it was close enough to walk. She rented from a private owner, who refused to give her an eviction notice so she could get help…he would simply evict her. He also kept all the utilities in his name so that she couldn’t go get utility assistance either. She had also been sick for 2 ½ weeks, which meant she missed that much pay “It’s my own fault.” She said, “I should have gone to the doctor earlier. But I didn’t, because I couldn’t afford it. It would have been cheaper than this thought.” She felt he was overcharging her on the utilities, since she had quite suddenly found herself $1600 behind on both.

She had been able to pull together $1000, and in desperation had placed herself on the street corner, hoping to fill in the gap so they wouldn’t become homeless. The landlord had given her until today to come up with the money. She had called DWS and Community Action, but without an eviction notice, I’m sure you know what the answer was. She had applied for medical and foodstamps. I asked her if she had heard of 2-1-1. She grabbed a pink marker out of her bag and wrote the number on the back of her sign. It was Utah County, so I gave her the name of someone I knew would take care of her, and then gave her a list of what to ask about; ask about getting on the list for housing assistance, ask about HEAT emergency assistance, ask about counseling, ask about food, ask about rent deposit assistance (she had decided staying in her current situation was a bad idea and really wanted to get out.) And I told her the guidelines for each of those programs, and the best things to say to get what she needed. She jotted all of this down.

At the end of the conversation, I gave her some money and then looked in her eyes. “I am a widow. I have been for eight years. It will get better. I remember being where you are right now. I promise it will get better.”

Her eyes brimmed with tears. “Thank you.” 

I could have been her. I never found myself on a street corner asking for help to sustain my children… but if that would have been my option, I would have. Plus, I lived in the country at that time. We didn’t have corners to stand on. It was like looking back at myself… seeing me in her. And I truly hope, she could see some hope in what she perceived of me… a well-dressed, nice car, actual cash in her wallet woman who had  been where she was.

I am so grateful for my life... for my full, rich, very blessed life.  

Carousel

The CarouselRainer Maria Rilke

For a little while in a roof's shade,

Brightly painted horses turn in a band.

They have all been taken from a land

That hesitates before it fades.

A pinching harness keeps them bound,
But all have courage in their eyes,
A crimson lion terrifies,
And now the china elephant comes 'round.

Just as in the woods there's a buck,
Except that it's saddled and carries
A little blue girl all buckled up.

And on the lion rides in white a young
Boy and holds on with a small warm hand
As the animal shows his teeth and tongue.

And now the china elephant comes 'round.

Bright young ladies are also there,

Almost too old for these wooden mounds,

In the middle of the leaps and bounds,

They look up, around, at us, anywhere.

And now the china elephant comes 'round.

And so it goes--faster, hastening its end,

It circles and it turns and has no aim,

A red, a green, a grey sent around,

A small inchoate outline of a face,

And sometimes we see a smile triumphant

And bless'd that sparkles and is spent

On this blind and breathless game...

Spiritual Economics

So life is rarely what you think it should be. And we all know nothing makes God laugh like a man's plans. Or a woman's plans in this case.

But either way, I'm sure he's been getting a good giggle out of my life lately.

I feel like I need to preface this story with a caveat; I knew this year was going to be hard. Last May, when Paul turned 18 and his missionary calling was imminent, I had a feeling akin to "Brace yourself. Its going to be tough one!"

I originally suspected it was going to be a financial challenge.

Some of the challenges fall into that category, the "financially-annoying- in- nature"; speeding and parking tickets, an accident on the freeway plus the towing incident leading to unexpected costs on the cars (thousands of dollars actually), broken computers, school fees, illnesses that eat into my paid time off plus costly doctors visits and medicines,they're selling our condo and we need to find a new home. They have become piled on top of each other making life more difficult to manage than usual.  Like my friend Doris said "We would all just like to say stop that. No more surgeries. car accidents, etc." True story Doris. Word.

But the real difficulty lies in what has become a very refining part of my life in the emotional, spiritual, and mental areas. A lot of the experiences are the types of things that force you to stretch and grow and bring you to your knees because you have no where else to go. The types of things that make you dig very deep and come to understand who you are, and decide if you're okay with where your life is and where it feels like the Lord is taking you. You are brought face to face with your fears and insecurities and have to recognize they exist...then grab the opportunities to grow and forgive yourself for your weakness or let those situations mow you ever and turn you in human mulch. Most of them are things I can't even yet share the details of the journey... because the journey is still in progress. But it has been hard. And some days have felt like nothing short of despair. It has been professionally and personally the hardest 6 months of my life in recent memory.

Wendy Ulrich in the book Voices of Hope shares this insight:

 "When Christ's teachings or life's demands are hard or offensive, we need special help from the Father to not go back but to continue to walk with the Savior. That help generally comes after - not before - we make the decision to do whatever God requires. We often struggle with this order. We want God to do His part first - to make us happy, cure our ills, bring us love, remove our frustrations, meet our needs - and then we will sing on the dotted line. After all, wouldn't we be suckers to spend all our emotional savings before seeing the merchandise we are purchasing?

Dealing with God is not an economic exchange, governed by the rules of the marketplace. The decision to follow God comes from our deepening conviction that God, unlike our fellow mortals, can always be trusted to do His best for us, free from selfish intent. The decision to follow God is not a bargain we strike but a statement about who we are and an expression of our deepest values, regardless of the temporary outcomes. Our covenant relationship with God is not based on short-term economic exchanges (I'll stay as long as I'm happy, as long as I'm fairly compensated for my efforts as long as it makes obvious send) but on an emerging trust that God's best is as good as it gets, ever, even when we cannot quite see how, Such a commitment provides direction and sustenance regardless of the vicissitudes of life."

I believe in Him. Not only do I believe IN Him, I believe HIM. I believe that his best IS as good as it gets and that the current demands on my life are bringing me closer to that best. And even though he asks us to step forward with faith into a dark and terrifying unknown without giving us all of the answers to the where or the why... he keeps sending us little reminders that in the darkness, we are not alone. That even though he cannot give us the fullness of the blessing until the task is complete, he will always be close enough that we can feel his love. He shows us this love through what many have come to call "tender mercies".

The events of this past week seem to me, the perfect metaphor for this process.

The pain right below my ribs had been constant if not consistent. A dull ache was always there, sometimes turning into sharp stabbing pains that would double me over and leave me on the floor. The severity and frequency of these attacks was increasing. And Sunday was kind of the final straw. I took myself home from church and laid down hoping the pains would subside. They did. Enough for us to be able to run up to my aunts and enjoy some family time. But when we got home, the pains picked back up again. And the timing was impeccable. Marcus had stopped by. And the bishop had just called to ask Paul and I to stop over and sign some paperwork to complete his missionary requirements. Marcus drove us over and it was decided I would seek a blessing from the bishop to know what best to do in this case. Should I wait it out? Should we go to the emergency room? I wasn't sure. Mostly, I just wanted to stop hurting.

The blessing was interesting. I was told that the doctors would be able to quickly diagnose the problem, and that while I healed I needed to remember to allow others to serve me. And to be assured that my family would be provided for.

As he spoke, my mind flashed back to a not too dissimilar situation 9 years ago. I had cut my thumb. And the pain that came a few days later seared my arm from finger to elbow. We had no insurance. I pled with the Lord to take the pain away. I just knew if I could rest that I would be better. The Lord knew far more than I did. The pain, even after my pleading, increased to the point I could no longer stay away, I took myself to the ER (where the pain immediately subsided) and was promptly admitted, given the warning that my entire arm was infected and it was quite likely I would lose part of my hand and arm. The Lord intervened and I kept every part of me person, thanks to blessings, prayers and guidance from those near to me. Had I waited, it might not have turned out the same.

As the bishop finished, the pains sharpened again. I understood the message. Go to the hospital.

Short story; I was admitted and had my gallbladder removed the next morning complete with a recovery time.

But the point is not actually the surgery. Or the pain. The point is the mercies.

First mercy... Marcus. I could not have asked for anyone better to be with me. He is a very good man. And an amazing friend. He deserves a lot of credit for not only going with me, but staying with me through bloodwork, ultrasounds, vomit, and the decisions that had to be made. He did not leave me until I was settled in and practically asleep. His "I love you" is the last thing I can recall before I drifted off into a medication induced slumber.

Second mercy... Bryant, my brother. Also a very good man. He came straight from working the night shift and went to go talk to my kids so they knew what was going on and made sure they were off to school before coming over to see me. He stayed with me until they took me to surgery. And he was back to take me home, letting his second job know he couldn't be there because he had to help his sister. He took the kids to the store and got some groceries. I am so grateful for him and his willingness to be there for me and for us.

Third mercy... Bryant had to leave to go get some sleep and I really thought I would be just fine a lone until later in the day after I had come out of anesthesia. But my mother felt otherwise, and called my Grandma Thacker to come and be there when I got back to the room. I was so grateful for it. As I was coming out of the anesthesia, I lost it a little and started crying hysterically I guess. And there stood my grandmother, holding my hand, stroking it and calming me down. I needed that. I needed her. It was the first time I had really had a chance to cry about any of this, and she was there to help me through it. She stayed the whole day as my company until Bryant came back.

Fourth mercy...  Kayque sent me a facebook message, pleading with me to let him know I was okay. He told me that on Sunday he had just started thinking of me and knew he needed to say a prayer for me. And that God would somehow get that message to me. What was interesting, is about the same time on Saturday when he was praying for me, I was overcome with the thought of him and missed him. I could feel that prayer. It helped to know that someone half a world away from me loved me and was thinking of me.

Fifth mercy...  the outpouring of love and support was incredible! I have wonderful people in my life and their willingness to serve and offer anything they could to us was amazing. The countless emails, messages, texts and calls.  It helped bring an enormous amount of peace to the whole process.

I see this surgery week as a metaphor for all of the things that have been going on...so let me wrap it nicely in a little package. Just like my surprise surgery, life is full of things we didn't plan to go through. But they are necessary. I needed to have that surgery. Like my sister in law Tamra said...surgery is immediate gain for long term pain. Most of what I am going through now is immediate pain for long term gain. But I have to pay the price first. That is how spiritual economics works. The most wonderful thing is that even though I would have ultimately seen the benefits of the surgery regardless of the small mercies, the small mercies made the temporary pain bearable and reminded me why the pain was worth it and that it would not last forever. Just like the many small and simple things that have helped me through surgery and recovery, I have had those moments appear even on the edge of despair; the story I needed to read, the friend I needed to talk to, even the stranger I needed to talk to... all mercies to remind me that the pain would pass. That his best is as good at it gets...even when in the moment, I cannot see how.

Damage to my car that was towed in Provo

A few weekends ago I had planned a nice evening out with a friend. We planned on stopping by a location in Provo for dessert. It was about 8 pm on Saturday February 1st. University Avenue was noticeable crowded, and so we found a parking spot on a side street in front of a small office building, Pro Title and Escrow. We noticed a sign saying that the space was for clients only, but we verbally acknowledged that it this late hour on a Saturday, it was probably okay.

We were in the establishment for approximately an hour.

When we came back, my brand new 2014 Dodge Caravan was gone. We searched, and found a sign giving a number of a towing company. We called and they had our van.

The company tows cars in Provo under 3 names; KPE Towing, Express Towing, and Amber's Towing.

Now I'm not going to lie. The whole interaction with the people of the company was really awful. They were extremely rude to both me, the friend who had been with me, and the friend who came to save us. They refused to show us the contract that gave them the right to tow vehicles. Especially with a newly enacted ruling enacted by the Provo mayor to try and prevent this type of thing from happening. Ultimately, I paid the $200 and took my van.

But it wasn't about that interaction. This is about what we found out had happened unbeknownst to us. And we discovered it on the way home on snow covered streets. We started to slide. I had no control over the car. We quickly got off the freeway, and the danger seemed to be over. But as the weekend continued and into the next week, the problems with control of the care continued.

Now I want to point out I am a widow and mother of 4 children who are all still at home. The thought of what could have happened still terrifies me.

I tried to ignore the problems. I thought maybe I was just imagining things. The final straw however, was the evening of Tuesday February 4th. Driving home from where I work in Salt Lake, I had so little control over the car, I finally pulled of and called my brother to come get me. The next morning I took the van into the dealership where I had originally purchased it just a few months before.

This is what they found.

The rear axle was bent. It had thrown the car out of alignment and affected my ability to keep control of the vehicle. The van was unsafe to drive.

I suspected the damage had been done at some point while it had been in the possession of the towing company, most likely during the process of being towed. But I wanted to be sure. The tech stated that the only other way the damage could have been done was if I had been driving very fast...backwards. And hit something. An adjuster was called in from my insurance company (she is the one that took the pictures), and she stated that the damage was so localized, that had it been something I had done during driving, there would have been far more damage. Even more, because it was this kind of damage, it fell outside of my warranty.

I called the towing company and told them what had been revealed and asked if they would be willing to cover the costs to have it fixed. They refused, claiming that there was not way they could have done any damage because when they tow a car "they only touch the tires".

I want to get the word out. I was willing to be responsible for the mistake I made. I want them to be responsible for their carelessness. I am hoping a little pressure from the public will help make people aware of how these companies bully people, and refuse to take responsibility.

Enough

I will never forget how I felt as I considered the task before me. My husband was dead. I stared at them there… sleeping peacefully, obliviously, entangled in blankets and stuffed animals and one another on the floor in the living room… our three children. And I had to tell them.

I had to tell them that their father was never coming home again.

But for now, I let them sleep.

I went into my closet and grabbed one of his shirts, wrapping it in my hands, consuming myself with the smell of him. I started to cry, sinking to the floor as another wave of disbelief washed over me. I buried my head in my hands. The tears combined with prayers. Until both ceased to fall from my eyes and heart from sheer exhaustion. I fell asleep with his shirt next to my cheek. Awaiting the morning. Awaiting that first horrible task. Awaiting a lifetime of shattered plans. I was lost. I was confused. And I had no idea how I could live this new life that had been forced on me in a matter of moments.

The next morning, my mother sent each of the children in to me. Ashlyn was one. Conner was three. I tried to explain. And regardless of their comprehension, they instinctively felt my sorrow. And I cried as I held their tiny bodies and stroked their tiny cheeks. Grieving for them. Knowing they would always know they had a father, but would never remember him. Never know what it felt like to feel his kisses or see him smile at their accomplishments. It was an emptiness they would always carry.

But Maryn…Maryn was five. And she was daddy’s girl.

I pulled her into my lap, my arms around her as I looked into her face and said the words I had been dreading. The tears were there again. She saw them. And mine were soon joined by tiny tears of her own.

She leaned her head into my shoulder as she whispered, “Mommy?”

“Yes sweetheart.”

“I have a question. Will he still be my daddy in the resurrection?”

The spirit filled my soul. And I felt with an enormous amount of surety that the words I spoke next were absolutely true.

“Yes darling. He will.”

Her response was simple but profound.

“Then I will be okay.”

With those words, all of the confusion, the grief, the loss, the emptiness…was lightened. And it has become the basis of what I have learned over the last 8 years since that moment. It is, above all else…the one thing I KNOW.

I will be okay.

And I will be okay for the same reason that my 5 year old daughter knew with the purest faith of a child that she would be okay…our Father in Heaven, through the Savior will make up the difference when what we can do and what we know is simply not enough to compensate for what is.

In Corinthians, Paul talks about how he had prayed 3 times for the Lord to remove his “thorn in the flesh”. And continually he was told no. Finally, when he asked why, the Lord replied “My grace is sufficient for you”.

Essentially He was saying…

When you are not enough. I am enough. I will fill in the gap. As long as you love me, and you try as hard as you can (even if “as you can” is different from moment to moment), I promise you that through my atonement, through my love for you… I will fill in the gap. Together we are enough.

Whether it is His willing sacrifice and resurrection that enables our bodies and spirits to be reunited and for us to be with those we love most after we have parted in this life…or whether it’s giving me enough to get through the day. Together, we are enough. And I will be okay.

I’m not going to lie. These past 8 years have been hard. And there are nights when that feeling of being lost; the confusion, the grief, the emptiness and the tears find their way back into my heart and soul. Because it is overwhelming and I do not feel up to the task. I am tired. I want this to be over. But the answer is still no. Or at least “not yet”.

And I hate that. I wish the answer was yes.  I feel like I am never enough.  It’s like running a relay race. You’re supposed to share the laps, but I simply have no one else to pass the baton to. So I often feel like I’m not running well enough to finish the race, much less win it. I am not the mother I dreamed I would be. My situation demands that I have a job. And although I love my job, I am torn every moment I am not with my children. I worry that I have not given them enough of what they need most to become healthy, faithful, independent, contributing adults…time, support, love, attention, listening, interaction, teaching, discipline.

And maybe I haven’t given them all I intended to give them. But I can tell you… where I fall short …He has filled in the gaps. I know this. I have seen it in our lives, I have felt it in our home.

We will be okay. I will be okay. Together, we are enough.

Halloween and Birthdays

So let's be honest... October is mostly nothing. Except for Halloween.

So a few days before, Lisa had all of us up for dinner and pumpkin carving.

We had soup. It was lovely.

Well I thought so any way...

Lisa had purchased this cool tool that you put on the end of a drill, and it cleans out the inside of the pumpkins nice and tidy. Bryant was assigned to be the man in charge of that. But there were definitely pumpkin guts everywhere.

Sage and Maryn start carving after figuring out a design.

Kayque's first jack o'lantern!

Our finished pumpkins (in the light)

Our finished pumpkins (lights out!)

Bonus pic...Ashlyn standing on Uncle Steve's hands...

We had trunk or treat at our church. Here's the trunk...

And my cute neighbor Sarah and her kids.

At the end of the month, we took a cake over to celebrate Grandma and Grandpa's birthdays.

Silly boys :)

Dinosaur National Monument Adventure

So Saturday we got up bright and early and decided to take a little jaunt down the mountain to Dinosaur National Monument. Carl and Brenda have lived there for quite some time, and although they had been to the quarry, they'd never explored the whole park. So it was a new adiventure for everyone!

They have this really cool thing where each of the kids can get a with activities in it. They complete a certain number of activities that help them learn about the history encompassed in the park, and then they get a little badge that says "Junior Ranger". Paul helped Alyssa and she was finished first. The ranger was so funny. He had her raise her hand and promise to learn and to have fun in the park. Super cute.

Alyssa takes her oath

Paul help Alyssa pin on her badge.

 Next stop? The quarry!

Now this is kind of cool. They discovered these magnificent fossils in the early 1900's, and were able to extract 350 tons, still leaving some in the rock wall. They covered the wall in a building made of glass and steel to preserve the relics from the elements, and more recently added some interactive, state of the art exhibits to allow visitors to learn even more. 

There's an upper and lower viewing area (of the same wall). This is the lower part.

And the upper.

And there's a part of the wall where you can touch the bones. I have no idea what is with that face.

Next along the journey were a few stops to see petroglyphs and pictographs captured in the rock walls of the area. These date back thousands of years. It was fun to guess what the story they were trying to tell was. We also laughed wondering if it was just some caveman's kid writing on the walls because they were bored. How exactly do you clean up a carving? 

We stopped for a quick lunch along the Green River. Right here, where the water split right through the mountain. The kids all went down to the river... and Ashlyn came running back telling me they had found a "baby lobster". I assume that was a crawdad.

We actually found this last stop uber fascinating. 

It was the ranch of a woman, Josie Bassett Morris,  who decided she had had enough of modern society and moved out by herself into the middle of nowhere. She'd been married, a lot. Her kids were grown. She got a divorce, and moved to this land in the middle of nowhere.No electricity. Hand built cabin. And stayed there until she died.

I get that. It was very peaceful. Maybe not the whole no electricity thing. Or indoor plumbing. But otherwise...yeah.

Here is a link to the whole story.