Heroes

It is pretty cool to read about heroes in books or stories but it is really cool when get to know one and extremely cool when you get to have one in your family. My sister Lindsay definitely falls into the hero category. Her life has been anything but easy but she has used all of her trauma to fuel a fire to help other people.

She was first diagnosed with a brain tumor when she was only two. After her first surgery she had to relearn how to talk and struggled keeping up with the other kids her first few years of school. Soon though, she was at the top of her class and was very much an advocate for anyone who struggled physically or emotionally. She was an excellent athlete, a wonderful artist, a gifted musician and a great student.

Then while I was home, in Cairo, from my freshman year of college a family friend of ours approached me and asked if Lindsay had ever had any seizures. He had thought he had seen her have a small seizure and so after many medical tests my family returned to the States. Lindsay struggled to attend classes at the local community college on increasing medication that made her speech slurred and her hands shake so badly it was hard to play the piano or paint. Eventually it was decided that the risks of surgery were greater than the risks of letting the tumor stay, so she was admitted to Johns Hopkins for a second surgery.

Lindsay's second surgery was successful and a few weeks later she became engaged to a good man (with great medical insurance). My mom told me that she was so excited, she left the house with out her head scarf to go ring shopping. In the next few years she moved to Hawaii, graduated from BYU-Hawaii with a BS in social work, had a beautiful little boy, moved to St. Louis to attend one of the best grad schools in the country for social work. She then worked with African refugees, foster kids that lived in a group home and at a battered women's shelter. She graduated with her Masters and had a second sweet little son. Soon after her baby was born the seizures started again.

In the last few months she has had to live in my parents house so they can take care of her and her boys while her husband tries to work in both Virginia and St. Louis. She couldn't drive, was on a cartload of medications and couldn't be alone in case she had another seizure. After waiting for almost eight months in fear and uncertainty she went in to her third brain surgery. While I was with her in the hospital, even while in considerable pain, she was concerned about me and my comfort, talking to me about how excited she was about our adoption and telling me about the foster kids she had worked with.

She was discharged this last Saturday and is doing relatively well. Her two surgeries in ten days left her in excruciating pain for several days but seems to have been successful. I know she is self-conscious about what years of surgery and medication have done to her body but I can honestly say she is one of the most beautiful people I know, in every sense of the word. She will carry scars from her surgeries but each one of them represents a trial she has overcome, a heart that she has helped heal, a broken life that she has helped sew back together, and an underdog that accomplished something because she was a champion for them.

I don't know how much direction God had in choosing who was born into what family but I know I have been so blessed to have Lindsay as my sister. After years of sibling rivalry, fighting over clothes, makeup and boys, I can say that I am lucky to count her not just as a sister but as a best friend.



My sister Mary donated her hair to Locks of Love in Lindsay's name

Go fish

9 years

Tomorrow I will have been married to Paxton for nine years. I will spend our anniversary three thousand miles away as I am out with my family helping while my sister goes in for brain surgery. But time spent away from Paxton makes me appreciate him all the more. Considering the difficult things my family has endured in the past few years, having my dad gone for a year in Iraq, losing my baby boy, and watching my little sister go in for her third brain surgery has given me a lot of time to reflect what my family and my marriage mean to me. I guess when it comes down to it, family is my reason for everything I do. It is why I get up in the morning and why I sometimes get up in the middle of the night, why I sing in the shower and sometimes cry in the shower, my motivation for making good choices as a kid and my reward for making good choices as an adult. I have so many people to thank for these nine wonderful years, my parents and siblings included but most of that credit goes to the wonderful man I am so lucky to call my husband. I thought I loved him when I promised to spend the rest of eternity with him, I thought I loved him even more when we held our first beautiful baby he helped me create, I though I loved him even more when he had to hold my life together when we lost our Colin, and yet now I realize each of those experiences I loved him to the greatest capacity I could and with each new experience, my capacity to love him grew. I have learned that great trials and sorrow can stretch someone to their limits but in that stretching one can also expand the limits of love and faith beyond what they could feel before. I can only dream of the love I will share with him in another ten years from now and another ten years after that. Thank you Paxton, for this wonderful life I am so lucky to get to share with you.

Livin' in a small town!

Gotta love the small town parade. Lots of horses, home-made floats and tractors. A lot of the bigger parades can't throw candy any more but this one had plenty and the kids had a blast. I have decided I love living in a small town but withing 20 minutes from the mall. It is just about perfect.

Inappropriate

It has taken me some time to be able to get over the humiliation of this enough to write about it. I don't know if I have ever acted so badly in my life but it was honest to goodness involuntary.

So, a few weeks ago we attended Paxton's grandfather's funeral. I had never been to a viewing before and I appreciated the reverent spirit in the room. We all went through the line and said good-bye to grandpa. The kids were relatively well behaved and stayed pretty quiet. We were one of the last to go through the line and were standing back in a corner keeping the kids out of the way while the line finished and we all stood in a semi-circle around grandma and grandpa. I didn't get too teary until grandma leaned over and gave grandpa a last kiss. Then, as I was trying to choke back tears, Avery walked through the crowd up to the casket. I tried to discretely dash up behind her but she was out in front of everyone when I reached her. As I picked her up and started walking back to the corner she said quietly, "Mom, why is grandpa dead?"
I said,"His body was very old and it didn't work anymore." She looked over my shoulder back and the half open casket and in a panic said, "Mom! Where are grandpa's legs?!
The question caught me totally off guard, I could see what connection she had made. Grandpa's body quit working, he died and his legs seem to be missing, that must be why he died. And as I had been on the brink of overwhelming emotion anyway all of the sudden, standing in front of all of grandpa's loving family, I started to laugh... hysterically. It was a face-crumbling, snorting, tears running down my face laugh. All I could think in my head was, "Stop it, right now! This is horrible, stop it!" but that made it worse. I looked up though my tears to see Paxton, totally mortified looking at me like I had just lost my mind. I handed Avery to him as she was still saying, "But mom, where did his legs go?" and I headed to the corner only to hear my neice say, "Grandpa died of a brain tumor. My rat Daisy had a tumor and it was THIS big. She died too." That set me off some more so I faced the wall and hunched over hoping it looked like I was bawling. When I turned around my eyes were so red out of humiliation and hysterics it probably looked like I had been crying. Eventually, I pulled it together in time to follow the group into the service. As I sat down with my kids I just hoped that from heaven Grandpa could forgive me and maybe even got a little laugh out of it. I guess it is true that God gave us children to keep us humble.

Speaking Help

I had a friend who was just put in a church position ask me if I had any ideas about that to do about being nervous before speaking to big groups. I didn't have any real words of wisdom to cure all the jitters but I know it is a big fear for anyone (myself included). What I have are suggestions that work for me but they are just that, suggestions but they come from three years of trial and error (including my first EFY when I got so scared I almost fainted in front of the whole class).

First, when you know what topic you are to teach on I would do a little basic research early and then (with a prayer in you heart) let it sit for a day or two. Watch for examples of your topic in everyday life, with you family, husband or other people interacting. I think that sometimes the little personal stories that people can relate to can personalize a message, scripture or teaching.

Second, I know this may seem like I am preaching to the choir but as I go to write my talk, I pray to know what God would like me to teach. Sometimes I get something I KNOW should be included in a talk and other times I just hope that Heavenly Father will stop me if I am wrong. Learning to discern what is coming from God, what is coming from me, and what is coming from me trying to be God, has been one of my toughest lessons and I don't always get it right but that only means I need to listen better the next time.

Third, one of the biggest things I do is to start with something kind of funny or a story. Since those first seconds are the most terrifying, I like to start with a story I can tell easily while looking at the audience. It gets people's attention and it helps you get through the worst of the nerves. Then I would add another personal story for every 10 min or so of doctrine or scriptures. It gives people a minute to absorb what is being taught and brings attention back for people who have lost the thread of the lesson.

Finally, when it gets down to actually speaking, I never can do it without being nervous but there is comfort in knowing that I am speaking about something that is bigger than me. That despite my weaknesses, God will open the hearts of those who want to be taught. With that being said, the only practical advice to give you is the Holy Ghost is the bringer of peace. Being nervous is only a sign of your humility and that you are willing to submit to what the Lord has asked you to do. If that is what He asked, He will provide a way for you to do it. That has been promised to us. I wish I had a magic cure to make the jitters go away but the only way I can get though it is to put my trust in the ultimate Comforter and pray that your heart won't stop before you stand up.

I hope this little bit of info can help someone next time they are asked to teach or speak (particularly in church).

Paxton also adds that he finds comfort in knowing that half the people aren't listening or are asleep anyway ;)

EFY-BYU!

I got to speak at my first EFY at BYU this week. It was great. Paxton came with me and was awesome moral support. I also got to have family from both sides sit in on some of the classes. The kids were great. I got to teach four lessons each two times for a total of eight lessons. I had a smaller room that fit about 120 kids each lesson. My lessons I taught were Anger vs. Agency, Born of Goodly Parents, Special Witnesses of Christ, and Youth of a Noble Birthright. I think the class that the kids liked the best was the one on parents. It was great to hear that some of the kids left class and immediately texted their parents and told them thank you for bringing them to EFY and that they appreciated them. It is good to hear that I wasn't wasting my breath.

This was the first time I got to each with another girl and more than one, I got to teach with TWO! (The seminary teachers had a training this week so I get to meet some of the less traditional teachers.) The other teacher with us was Brad Wilcox (talk about intimidating) but he was very personable and humble. It was a great experience to work with him.

All in the family

Like Father, like son.

Like Mother, like daughter.