All Is Well

Written the night of July 23, but never finished/posted:

I spent the summer after the first year of my master's degree program as an editorial intern for The Liahona, or the International magazine of the church. This summer just happened to be the sesquicentennial of the pioneers' entrance into the Salt Lake Valley, and the magazine and the church in general was saturated with pioneers. My work days were filled with reading and editing pioneer stories, often the same stories over and over again. I grew thoroughly sick of the original pioneers, modern-day pioneers, and everything remotely "pioneer."  

Now that my Summer of the Pioneers is receding farther into my past, though, I've come to once again love the pioneers and the symbolism of their journeys and their stories. This year, I happened upon this talk , given by Tessa Meyer Santiago, a fellow instructor of mine at BYU back in 1997, at a BYU devotional. Tessa speaks about the significance of pioneer stories to her, a convert from South Africa, and to all of us. In her application to all of us, she says, "Saints under covenant must be devoted to the concept of journeying, not destination." She laments that often

In our zeal we fail to realize that we are judged not on whether we reach the Salt Lake Valley but on whether we wore ourselves out in the effort to bring ourselves and all for whom we are responsible as far along the trail as possible. . . .  We cannot stay in our Nauvoo forever: we must wade the Mississippi River, join the wagon train, and begin the journey. Ultimately though, this covenant journey is about willingness and worthiness to enter the kingdom of God.  

In the end, the Lord doesn't care if the pioneers made it to the Salt Lake Valley. He cares if they began the journey and wore themselves out in the process of journeying.

When I was in graduate school, one of my good friends who entered the program at the same time as me was (is) married to a Congregationalist minister. She also had a Mormon roommate at Boston University. She told me that she and her husband and daughter still visit her old roommate and her family when they can, and when they visit, they go to church with them. "We love your pioneer hymn," she said immediately upon learning that I am Mormon. "It's one of our favorite hymns of all time."  I never asked her why exactly she loves "Come, Come, Ye Saints," but if I had to guess, I would say that it has something to do with the truths in the song--the truths about journeying, about the nature of our God, and about the nature of life in general:

• We must find the joy in the journey, as we "wend [our] way" and strive to drive out "useless cares."
• God will help us--Grace will be with us, "our God will never us forsake," and He has prepared a place for us.
• Despite what happens, "All is well! All is well!" 

Recommitting

“Those who write are writers. Those who wait are waiters.” 
― A. Lee Martinez

“And what, you ask, does writing teach us? First and foremost, it reminds us that we are alive and that it is a gift and a privilege, not a right.” 
― Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing

“Writing is the great invention of the world.” 
― Abraham Lincoln, Discoveries and Inventions: A Lecture by Abraham Lincoln Delivered in 1860

"It is easy to lose sight of the fact that writers do not write to impart knowledge to others; rather, they write to inform themselves."
--Judith Guest, Foreward to Writing Down the Bones

"I write because there are stories that people have forgotten to tell, because I am a woman trying to stand up in my life."
--Natalie Golberg, Writing Down the Bones

#BecauseofHim

I loved the Church's video and social media campaign preceding Easter this year. We watched the #BecauseofHim video a few times as a family and each time, the music and words and images resonated deeply--food for my soul. The message that because of Him we can start again, that there is no end, not when we die, nor as we live our lives each day, is truly what gives me hope through the daily grind. This career and calling of mine--mothering these 4 children, being a companion to J, loving those around me--is beautiful and joy-full, but it is also frustrating and discouraging, and many days (most days?) I end the day humbled, feeling as though I have not been very good at any of them.  But because of Him, I feel peace in the midst of discouragement. Because of Him, I start again each day.


I used to love the week before Easter and the short nightly devotionals we did with the kids. The last 2 years have been difficult, though, as kids have scattered every which way in the evenings for soccer, track, cub scouts, you name it. We haven't come together in our short daily remembrance and celebration, and I miss that.

Most of my Easter pictures this year are from my parents' Easter/spring party, which was really a lot of fun, thanks to my mom's skill at planning. She had family games, kid games, egg hunts, egg dyeing, a scratch-off prize box for the games, a treasure hunt, a short spiritual lesson, and dinner! Phew! I'm tired just listing all of that!

  

 

Little Zelly in hog heaven, swinging and having just polished off something delicious

Finding their Easter baskets Sunday morning:

About to tear into her hollow bunny and looking so pleased about it

Doing it all

I wrote this last week and never hit the "Publish" button:

It's 11:30 pm exactly, and I am almost done grading research papers. I wanted to document, for people who have asked me, how I "do it all," meaning, I suppose, how I live the normal life of an LDS stay-at-home mom and teach college as well.  The answer is that I don't. At all. In the past 4 months, I haven't read a book for fun, I'm woefully behind on my TV shows (Downtown Abbey, I'm coming!), I don't read every day to my 4-year-old or take him on outings or throw the ball to him or sit and laugh with him, I don't have regular and meaningful conversations with my husband since I spend my kid-free time in front of a computer screen, I have a house full of unfinished projects, and my daily exercise happens only if I get up before the kids and only if I cut down my daily time to 30 min because anything more than that would eat into my sleeping hours, which seem slim to none, given that most of the grading and class prep I do happens after 9pm, when the kids are finally in bed (older kids=more activities, more school work, later bedtimes=a tired Mom!) So, there are plenty of things I'm not doing. There's really no such thing as doing it all.

But I am usually getting meals on the table, getting kids to activities, helping with homework, and keeping my house clean (since I can't think when it's not clean). And I am rocking my teaching. Last week my teaching group leader called me to summarize her observations of my class and her evaluation of my teaching and said she couldn't think of one thing to write that I needed to improve on. My students' evaluations were similar. Not one negative comment and not one suggestion for improvement. Only glowing reports.

I'm happy about that, of course, but I'm also woefully aware that not one suggestion for improvement reflects on the fact that I've thrown all my efforts, the best of me, into teaching my class because it's more measurable and it has a deadline and I'm getting paid to do it.

This is what usually happens when I teach. Tonight I'm reminded of what one of the women in my dissertation study--Les--wrote about the value of unpaid work:

"There has been so much talk lately, of this of 'us' the 'opt out generation'. The women who are 'turning their backs' on the opportunities now available to them to stay at home. I listened to such an interesting discussion on NPR- polling young women in elite colleges- expressing their likelihood of staying home in the future, many feminists troubled by the numbers. Thinking our society must be sending the message you can't do it all- the clocks must be rolling back. Why is it 'Choice feminism' is not accepted. How is choosing to care for others not a choice? I am deeply troubled by the way caregiving is undervalued in our societies. This extends to caretaking professions as well-- the pay and respect meeted out to a teacher is far less than that of a lawyer, business executive. Linda Hirshman contends the only way to flourish as a human being is through paid work.
To her I suggest the only way to flourish as a human being is unpaid work. The work that is the great equalizer of men and women across cultures, across all history and time. The work of care. I feel far greater satisfaction at night when I help someone far more than when I get a paycheck. I am not godless or a slave to the god of self glory-- development of my own personal morality is far more rewarding than another plaque on my wall--
So my social statement is this- I am a woman, a smart woman, I don't want another woman to speak for me. I have a voice, my own voice. The press may not quote me, like Linda Hirschman, so my voice may not be as loud- many whispers can create a great sound--I am one woman just as she is, of equal importance, with a voice as unrelenting, as strong and as valid- Don't pity me, don't trouble yourself that society has done me wrong, don't fear I may never escape this domestic drudgery and become enlightened--This life, as a mother, as a mother who stays home, is my choice. . . . I wanted to experience motherhood without distraction. Homemaking is not drudgery, paid work is not bliss."

So, I sit here reflecting at now 11:43 at night, with a bad cold and case of laryngitis and a deep end-of-semester fatigue, ready to throw in the towel, to submit the grades, to "opt out," and just go back to not "doing it all."

My testimony of education

It's been a month since I've posted. Life has been crazy busy and I guess I'm trying to decide if I should keep my blog going or not.

But in the meantime, join me at Segullah. I posted last week about my testimony of education.

Obsessed

Lately, Sweetie and her friends have been obsessed with Rainbow Looming. Check out Sweetie's jewelry designs.

Sweetie's other obsession this past month was the opera that her A.L.L. class put on. Sweetie was an i-pad and spent plenty of time preparing her costume and practicing her songs. It was fun to see the finished show come together!

Lastly, Sweetie spent February taking as many tumbling classes as possible since her tumbling teacher announced his retirement at the end of the month. We are so sad to see him go!

Schmalentine's Day

Valentine's Day came fast this year--right on the heels of our trip to Arizona. Let's just say we weren't ready. The night before, we were still paper-macheing Olaf's head and trying to figure out how to tape a bowl to a box. But, Friday morning, I went out bright and early and cut a few twigs for Olaf's head and arms, I convinced Mister to give up the dream of having his toilet box actually flush (by recording it on his I-touch and taping that to the toilet as the handle), and I drove them to school with Valentine boxes, Valentines, Valentine party assignments, but without their lunches. So, I returned, still in my sweats, lunchboxes in hand, just as Sweetie's class was headed to lunch.

Usually, we get take-out and give the kids little Valentines from us, but this year, we had hook-ups for Valentine's Day, thanks to J's cousin who manages PF Chang's, so J and I escaped the Valentine madness by heading to Salt Lake City and to the restaurant where, as it just so happens, we celebrated our first Valentine's day as a couple 14 years ago.