The Caterer

So for Thanksgiving I hosted 25 hungry, thankful people on Thanksgiving.  ("I", meaning I did most of it, with some handy help from my husband and a little, teensy weensy help from my children).

Four guests informed me, the night before Thanksgiving, they were coming. 15 of our guests were children under 16 years old (okay, nine of them were mine, but during Thanksgiving they are "guests" because we try to use our best dinner manners with other people over :).

We served a 22# turkey and a 22# ham, smashed patooties (that's what we call them), sweet papas (that's what we call them, too), red Jell-o with whipped topping, stuffing, blue cabbage (a family tradition), cranberry sauce, rolls, pies, ice cream and soda.

We ate till we could eat no more. . . then we started on dessert.

The NEXT morning, we again hosted another set of 25 for a Family Brunch, complete with yogurt parfaits, bagels and schmear (that's what Einstein's calls it) and juice.

And after TWO DAYS days of feeding and cleaning up after a meager 50, I've decided, HANDS DOWN, that Jesus Christ is THE Ultimate Caterer!

Family Home Evening - River of Victory

This week for Family Home Evening we watched THIS video.

It made for a very healthy discussion - not only following the video, but all during the week.

Here are some themes we discussed:

* God's love

* Family

* Poverty

* Gratitude

* Faith and Healing

* Entitlement

* Excessiveness


On a side note, for a REALLY, REALLY, REALLY great fiction read . . . READ THIS!!

Comparing Myself

There was a story recounted in General Conference years ago that comes back to me every once in a while . . .

This usually happens when I step foot into a house that's "more" than mine, or when I'm in the company of women who are more educated than I, or when I come across incredible blogs that jump out and seem to say "Hey, can you see my ten-digit following!?"

And I am learning that happiness NEVER comes from comparing myself to anyone else . . . it only comes as I look to God and live.

BTW, the word happiness is not found in the Bible. But can be found 26 times in the Book of Mormon!!

Oh, and here's that wonderful reminder story told by Elder Gordon T. Watts of the Seventy, (which can also be found HERE.)

As a young boy, life on our small family farm was heaven. Often in our humble home there were not as many shingles as we had roof. The rest-room facility was connected by a long path that required some advance planning, and sometimes my worn shirt had more buttonholes than buttons. The Saturday night bath in front of a warm stove, where your body experienced both extremes in temperature, was a luxury.

Then something changed. I started school and began to notice possessions I had not known. Some had nice clothing, beautiful homes with all the modern conveniences, and drove newer automobiles. Many my age were not required to arise early and do chores before going to school, only to go home at night and do them all over again. While they were popular and confident, I became backward and shy. Regretfully, I began to forget how happy I had been with my basket of blessings as I indulged in comparing their seemingly endless bushels to mine. Thus, the blinders to humility began distorting reality, giving way to ingratitude. The expectation that more is deserved can cause our plate of plenty to appear empty. Gratitude has many faces and takes on many forms. Failure to recognize the Lord for all we have will soon result in selfish behavior.

Occupy Kitchen

Today is Thanksgiving.

I spent 99% of my time occupying the kitchen.

Cooking.

Baking.

Cleaning.

From start to finish.

And I find it interesting how excited everyone was to join me in the kitchen to help me create.

Squeezing the juice.

Mashing the potatoes.

Sprinkling the cinnamon.

Rolling out the pastry.

Tasting the cranberry salsa.

But how tired everyone was to help clean up when the feasting was all over.

Clearing the table.

Putting the food away.

Doing the dishes.

Wiping down the counters.

The creating part - fun.

The cleaning part - not so fun, but oh, so very necessary.

Which got me thinking about how grateful I am for a Savior, even Jesus Christ.

He who is Author and Finisher.

He who was there at the Creation.

And He who will be there for the Cleanup.

Our Friend to the end.

Remember the Receiving

I will not lie when I say there have been dark times in my life when I was certain I couldn't go on.

Certain that no one really could know the depth my pain or the height my despair except God Himself.

And He did.

He always sent help.

His help has come to me in the kind, thoughtful service of others.

Those divine acts of love and mercy have made deep, everlasting impressions upon my heart. Impressions that can't be erased, but can only be remembered as I give in return.

That's why I've joined with so many others in supporting this month's cause to raise money for single moms. (See my sidbar widget!!!)

While there are lots of statistics out there about single moms (CLICK HERE),the bottom line is I want to show the Lord, in my small way, that I do remember His kindnesses towards me.

And this month this is how I'm choosing to do it.

Will you remember a time when the Lord has been kind to you. Perhaps even overly kind and downright merciful?

Will you remember how you felt?

How humble and how joyful?

In that same spirit of receiving, will you give?

Maybe today you can only afford to give a dollar.

Then just give a dollar.

Perhaps today you can give a little more.

Then give a little more.

Whether giving big or small, if we remember how our hearts felt in our times of humble receiving, I am certain that we will be filled with His love, even charity, as we bless the lives of single mothers who will be able to do incredible things for themselves and the ones they love!

Fathers Are Responsible to Provide the Necessities of Life

For the longest time, I had this very twisted notion stuck in my skull (you know, like David's rock planted dead center in Goliath's forehead) that in order for my husband to obey The Proclamation, he would need to provide our family with $$$,$$$ (although a very high $$,$$$ with 9's would also be acceptable) which, in turn, would allow me to most successfully fulfill my part of The Proclamation, which is to nourish our children.

Um, hasn't happened yet.

Not the $$$,$$$ or the $$,$$$$ with just one nine in the very front.

So, since my head wasn't making money sense of what "By divine design, fathers are  . . . responsible to provide the necessities of life" meant, I decided to look in a book - The Dictionario.

And what did I learn?

The word provide comes from the Latin word:  providere (pro, - before + videre  -to see).  It means:

1: to take precautionary measures

2: to make preparation to meet a need

And here's what else I learned!

There is NOTHING (nada, zippo, zilch) in the definition that says provide= $$$,$$$ or $$,$$$ with a fat, juicy nine leading the way. (If you see it, point it out to me, because that is how thick my skull is sometimes).

Which means after years of looking all around me and thinking I knew what "provide" meant, I've learned two things.

1) As my husband (wonderful, kind, sweet husband) continues to do his best in righteously providing for our family financially and physically and spiritually and emotionally, then HE IS obeying his end of the deal as taking responsibilty as a father

and 2) I am SO not excused from doing my part to nurture our children just because we do not have the $$$,$$$ (a.k.a. luxuries of life).

Because (ahem), n.e.c.e.s.s.i.t.i.e.s. are things that are required to live.  You know, stuff like food, clothing, shelter, fuel.

And last I checked, I'm living.

And so are my husband and our nine kids.

And we've got food in our pantry and milk in the fridge.

And we've never, ever walked out of our house naked.

And this morning I got all all our kidlings to school  - on time!!
Boy, am I ever thankful for spiritual brain surgery!!

Why I Scrape Burnt Toast and Other Things I Thought I'd Never Do

I admit, I scrape my burnt toast.  But I didn't always.

Like when I was a teenager.

I was a bit of a toast snob back then.

Okay, a BIG toast snob.

For because I would shake my head and chuckle when I would watch my mother scrape, scrape, scrape that black crust off her toasted bread.

Because when I burned toast back then, I simply tossed it in the garbage. And started toasting all over.

Now, I'm a mom of NINE kids (Eight who currently eat toast. The ninth is trying to work her way up to rice cereal). And I don't know if anyone has visited the grocery store lately, but the price of food is interfering with saving for college.

And now, I TOTALLY understand why my mom still scrapes her burnt toast.

* * *

My favorite breakfast in high school was cold, day old pizza with an icy, cold glass of milk.

Talk about refreshing. And a breakfast meal with all the necessary food groups: grains, dairy, vegetable, meat.

And the foods I had a hard time eating? Watermelon, strawberries, tomatoes, and cooked onions.

Blech.

"You may not always like pizza for breakfast. And you may start liking everything you hate," my dad would tease.

Bah-ha-ha. Not my terrific, teenage tastebuds.

Umm, guess who was right?!

* * *
Growing up, our family didn't have a lot of money.

My dad worked really hard providing for our family. My mom stayed home and did everything she could to extend his meager earnings the best she could by bottling fruits, making bread, sewing clothes.

While I didn't go without, my obvious "lack" was juxtaposed with friends who lived in homes with walk-in fridges, saunas, game and theatre rooms and swimming pools in their houses. (And that was over 30 years ago!)

So being young and naive (and obviously not in my parent's situation), I didn't quite understand why my mom and dad would have to say repitious, irksome phrases like,

"We can't afford to get you those jeans (those jeans happened to be 501's)" or "You don't need a Sony Walkman. You have a clock radio (a CLOCK radio?!?!)" or "We sure wish we had enough money to put you into gymnastics . . . but sorry, we don't."

And more often than I wanted to admit, my mother would always put on a sweet, humble smile and reply to my complaints, "We may be poor in money, but we are rich in spirit. We have the gospel of Jesus Christ."

I got SO irked when I heard those words because what they meant to a teenager was "WE ARE POOR!"

And I vowed a vow that I would never ever, not in a million, billion, trillion years say those irritating words of obvious financial poverty to my children.

Let me just say right here, right now, just for the record, I've put on A LOT of poundage over the years for eating. my. words.

And the phrase that has made me the most fat - the one I have used more often when my children ask me why we don't have this or why we don't have that- is "Children, we may be poor in money, but we are rich in spirit. We have the gospel of Jesus Christ. We are members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints! Woo Hoo."

(Hopefully you noted that I've added a little to my mother's phrase. So you can see why I've gained all that "never-say-never" weight).

I admit that it's funny how I use those words my mother used with me. The only difference is, now I know exactly how she felt when she did.

Tidbit Tuesday - Gratitude

I saw this video for the first time today.

It opened the flood gates to count my many blessings.

30 Days Hath November

30 days hath November

for me to thankfully remember,

to count 30 ways that I’ve been blessed

by the One who knows me best.

1. The Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Without Him I am nothing and with Him, nothing is impossible.

2. My membership in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. A blessing to me that is worth more than anything in this world.

3. My sweet, wonderful husband. Because once upon a time I really thought marriage was the beginning of an end. But, because of his love and kindness to me, he has proved that theory wrong over and over and over again. (I love you!)

4. My children. They have allowed me to live life in High-Def, Surround Sound 3-D!

5. My Mom and My Dad. My mom for instructing me how to accompany for musical numbers, teaching me how to cook from scratch and instilling in me the love of chocolate. My dad for teaching me the importance of hard work, encouraging me to reach my goals and inviting me in my youth to love – with all my heart – the word of God.

6. My siblings. For loving me even after all the stuff I dished out to them many years ago.

7. The gift of the Holy Ghost. The Record of Heaven.  The Comforter.  The Truth of All Things.  That which quickeneth all things, which maketh alive all things.  That which knoweth all things, and hath all power according to wisdom, mercy, truth, justice, and judgment.

8. Acetaminophen. Without it I would be one BIG headache during the entire nine months of pregnancy . . . (and then some)!

9. Sleep. For because the Lord knows that sleep is the best thing for me to start off a new day!

10. “My” Young Women’s President and the first “real” returned sister missionary I knew. Her testimony of the gospel motivated me to serve a full-time mission.

11. Priesthood blessings. For direction, for guidance, for peace.

12. My very bestest friend in high school. Sweet, happy cherished memories!

13. Seminary. Where the truth that had always been taught to me began to sprout and grow and live.

14. My Granny. She taught me how to sew, how to enjoy a fresh cup of peppermint tea with a liverwurst sandwich . . . and instilled a fear of drinking Coke (do you know what it does to clogged drains??).

15. Serving as a young Primary teacher in a Laotion Branch. It was the beginning of my understanding of the great love God has for all of His children.

16. Sacred, holy places. The temple. Quiet, wooded mountains. And feeling a baby move in my belly.

17. Indoor plumbing. Of all the modern inventions, I would put running water and a flushing toilet as the one for which I am the most grateful.

18. Corrective lenses. For because if we lived in the time of Jesus I would be a blind beggar. So would my husband. Four of our children. And the dog. (But the dog would probably fare better).

19. The invention of the printing press. Where would my life be without good books?

20. Stake Presidents. I will always cherish the recommend interviews with one during the time my husband served as a Bishop; and the memory of another blessing the Sacrament.

21. A 15 passenger van. 15!!! How else could I drive all my children to and from and all the way back again?

22. Cilantro. In my book one of the tastiest Mexican-food garnishes out there.

23. Newly fallen snow. Because there’s no better way to see what repentance and forgiveness look like.

24. A visiting teacher who turned out to be one of my dearest, most cherished friends.

25. My sewing machine. My creative outlet and a calming pastime. (Thanks Granny)

26. Ice Cream. Particularly the homemade kind . . . and Cold Stone!

27. Fire. I happen to enjoy being warm when it is cold. And a REAL fire (with wood) is the most yummy heat I know.

28. Bread. The kind we ate fresh – everyday – in Spain. Ahhh!

29. My mission companion during the holidays while I was far away from home.

30. Baby #9 . . . And it’s is a girl!

Family Scriptures

So I was feeling a little sorry for myself this week.

Maybe A LOT sorry.

I was Pathetic.  Yes, with a capital P!

Got myself all riled up over things I can’t control.

Made a list of This and That and Those and These.

And then, for family scriptures, it was decided (by the Spirit, mind you) to read a 1989 Conference Talk by then, Bishop Henry B. Eyring.

I thought FOR SURE the message was for the children.

After all, aren’t they always wanting what others have and they don’t?

So here is what we read together  (CLICK HERE to read Bishop Eyring's entire talk):

You and I would like to know how to control our wants and increase our gratitude and generosity. We are going to need that change. Someday, in our families and as a people, we will live as one, seeking each other’s good.



You know from studying Church history that we have tried to live as one in a variety of settings. A story from one of those tries, in Orderville, Utah, gives us a clue as to why it is so hard.


Orderville was founded in 1870 and 1871 by people who wanted to live the united order; in 1875, they began the order. They built housing units in a square, with a common dining hall. They built a storehouse, shoe shop, bakery, blacksmith shop, tannery, schoolhouse, sheep shed, and woolen factory. They grew and made nearly everything they needed, from soap to trousers. They had carpenters, midwives, teachers, artists, and musicians. They produced enough surplus that they could sell it in neighboring towns for cash: with that they built up a capital fund to buy more land and equipment.


The population rose to seven hundred people. One hundred and fifty of them gave Orderville a special advantage: they had come to Orderville from the mission on the Muddy River, where they had nearly starved. When those who had been called to the Muddy were released, they were in near destitution. Twenty-four of those families went to Long Valley, founded Orderville, and pledged all they had to the Lord. They didn’t have much, but their poverty may have been their greatest contribution. Their having almost nothing provided a basis for future comparison that might have guaranteed gratitude: any food or clothing or housing that came to them in Orderville would be treasure compared to their privation on the Muddy mission.


But time passed, the railroad came, and a mining boom put cash in the hands of people in the neighboring towns. They could buy imported clothes, and they did. The people in Orderville were living better than they had in years, but the memory of poverty on the Muddy had faded. They now focused on what was in the next town. And so they felt old-fashioned and deprived.


One ingenious boy acted on the discontent he felt when he was denied a new pair of pants from the Orderville factory because his were not worn out yet. He secretly gathered the docked lambs’ tails from the spring crop. He sheared the wool from them and stored it in sacks. Then, when he was sent with a load of wool to sell in Nephi, he took his sacks along and exchanged them for a pair of store pants. He created a sensation when he wore the new-style pants to the next dance.


The president of the order asked him what he had done. The boy gave an honest answer. So they called him into a meeting and told him to bring the pants. They commended him for his initiative, pointed out that the pants really belonged to the order, and took them. But they told him this: the pants would be taken apart, used as a pattern, and henceforth Orderville pants would have the new store-bought style. And he would get the first pair.


That did not quite end the pants rebellion. Orders for new pants soon swamped the tailoring department. When the orders were denied because pants weren’t yet worn out, boys began slipping into the shed where the grinding wheel was housed. Soon, pants began to wear out quickly. The elders gave in, sent a load of wool out to trade for cloth, and the new-style pants were produced for everyone.


You know that isn’t a happy ending. There were many challenges Orderville faced in the ten years they lived the order there. One of them they never really conquered. It was the problem of not remembering. That is a problem we must solve, too.


Just as they forgot poverty on the Muddy, we so easily forget that we came into life with nothing. Whatever we get soon seems our natural right, not a gift. And we forget the giver. Then our gaze shifts from what we have been given to what we don’t have yet. . .


You could have an experience with the gift of the Holy Ghost today. You could begin a private prayer with thanks. You could start to count your blessings, and then pause for a moment. If you exercise faith, and with the gift of the Holy Ghost, you will find that memories of other blessings will flood into your mind. If you begin to express gratitude for each of them, your prayer may take a little longer than usual. Remembrance will come. And so will gratitude.

And when Family Scriptures was over, I realized how I had been the one forgetting.

How I was the one who needed to remember.

Oh how grateful I am to my Giver. . . and for family scriptures!

Dear LandLady

Dear Landlady:

You will never, ever know what a blessing you are to me.

Really!

I mean, who, in their right mind, rents to a family of ten? 10!

You’re the only one I know of so far.

And just so you know, every. single. night. when I look up and see a ceiling over my head, AND hear my children STILL carrying on when it has been 3 hours, 27 minutes and 19 seconds since we’ve put them to bed, AND hear the “shloosh” of the dishwasher washing every last bit of silverware we have in the house, AND then open the window to feel the cool, night breeze, I thank Heavenly Father for you!

Thank you for being His hands!

Memorial Day

Today as we visited two cemetaries and saw the beautiful and colorful display of flags and flowers, my heart overflowed with deep and sincere reverence for the millions who have fought for the cause of liberty and freedom and the millions more who received the news that their loved ones would never return home. Though a "thank you" may be trite, you have blessed the life of this one girl!

The Routineness of it All

"We all have the choice whether to see the mundane or the beauty.

"Most of the time, our family life is dangerously mundane.  Most of the time, we are in the living room, plopped on the couch and it all seems pointlessly ordinary.  Now and then we get flashes - we feel tapped into a very intense parallel universe of unbearable feeling.  But we do not hang out in that state of connected grace for very lone. We tend to forget about it.  We are back on the living room couch.  We ask, What is it all for? So we could sit on the couch together doig nothing particularly significant?

"Do not be fooled by those incredibly orfinary stretches into believing it is not something profound.  Do not be fooled into forgetting about the special moments.

"We all undergo this trial.  We are tested by this very situation.  Routinely.  The routineness of this test is part of its trick" (from Why Do I Love These People by Po Bronson).

So today, I tried real hard to look beyond the routineness of it all while . . .
- cutting seven boys' heads of hair
- watching four additional children (making it 12 children all under the age of 12)
- shopping for milk and bread (the cashier really asked me if we were having a breakfast party because I was buying so much for this family of 10 we have)
- doing two full loads of dishes in the dishwasher
- washing seven loads of laundry (and it's still NOT done)
- saying family prayer

And you know what? There is beauty all around!

Beauty to seen, beauty to be heard, beauty to be felt - and all while undergoing this "trial" of being routine.

And tonight, before I go to bed, I will thank Heavenly Father for it.

For giving me the experience - even if it is mundane.

For today, I really tried to enjoy the ride!

Today's Big and Little Miracles

On Saturday night, at the Adult Session of Stake Conference (one of the best kept secrets in the Church – if I didn’t mention that already), a member of our Stake made such a profound comment. He said, “There are big miracles and there are small miracles. But really, no miracles are small, because if it happens to you, it’s BIG!”

And today – THIS VERY DAY - there occurred in my life, two BIG miracles!

MIRACLE FIRST
Over the weekend my six-year old niece was diagnosed with Kawasaki’s Disease.

After eight days of intense, unexplainable symptoms, including an over-the-top high fever, my sister took her to an urgent care doctor, who gave a careful but exact diagnosis and sent them on their way to the ER!

She spent two nights in the hospital - complete with an echocardiogram, ultrasound of the heart and a gamma globulin transfusion.

And during these past ten days, our family has PRAYED that she would be okay.

We prayed that her little body could recover from “The Unknown Plague” that was infecting her body.

We prayed that the doctors would know exactly what to do for her symptoms, because we didn't know.

We prayed during family prayer, during dinner prayer, and even included her in all the prayers we said before we left the house.

And the BIG miracle for us today is that her heart looks GREAT! For Heavenly Father needs that little six-old on earth for a little while more!

MIRACLE SECOND
I have this ring.

It’s not a fancy ring or even an expensive ring.

I got it at Girls’ Camp two years ago.

Inscribed on the plain, silver band is the reference: D&C 88:133.

The ring reminds me of my covenant to be fixed, immoveable and unchangeable as a sister in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

To walk always in His commandments.

Well, after I got home from Scouts this afternoon, I looked at my finger AND IT WAS GONE.

It's not a ring that I can replace.

And part of me felt so devastated.

But the other part of me calmed the devastated part of me because even though this was a special ring, it was really only something temporal.

Because I thought of the ring story President Hinckley told in Conference a few years ago.

And I realized that the loss of my ring wasn’t THAT important.

But I offered a little prayer, anyway. Because it REALLY bothered me that I lost my ring.

I told Heavenly Father how that ring meant so much to me.

How that silver ring connected me spiritually to incredible young women who strengthened me and inspired me as I watched them stand for truth and righteousness.

And I told Heavenly Father that it would be okay, too, if I didn’t find it. Because I would remain true to Him, with or without my ring.

And after I prayer, I knew that I would be okay if I didn’t find it.

Then, when I picked up a dish towel and out of it fell my silver band from Girls’ Camp, I remembered the last part of that verse in D&C 88:133 about walking in thanksgiving to God forever and ever.

And I quickly went and told all my children (who, earlier, had heard my lamentation) and told them how good Heavenly Father was to me, for letting my ring fall out - right onto the kitchen floor.

And my little miracle second became, as Saturday Night’s Speaker said, such a BIG, wonderful miracle for me!