This week has gone by in a blur. I can't even believe that it is already Friday again. I have been so busy this week with selling our house that I haven't had time for much of anything else. We got two offers on it this week! It has been pretty exciting, but since we are selling it by owner it has been a lot of work. Luckily my aunt is a real estate agent and has been walking me through all the paperwork. We are just praying now that at least one of the offers actually comes through. I've heard so many horror stories from people and keep getting told that you can't start celebrating until you have the money in your hand. I am just trusting that whatever is suppose to work out works out. But it would be so nice if things work out soon-- because keeping my house clean is TORTURE!
I have a confession to make.
I am mildly addicted to the Christian Rock station.
I've gone from being totally weirded out by it to having it be the only thing (besides NPR) that I listen to in the car. It is just SO positive and encouraging-- as KLOVE always likes to say-- and the music is just so good. I have to admit that some of the songs are a bit "evangelical" for me but most of the time I find myself singing at the tops of my lungs-- with Rose singing along in the back seat. Really, I love it. So much better than anything else on the radio.
One of my all time favorite Christian Rock songs is by a band called "Sanctus Real" ( I get such a kick out of the clever rock and roll religious names that bands come up with). It is called "Whatever You're Doing" and the first time I heard it I had to pull over to the side of the road because I was crying so hard. It captures SO perfectly the feelings I had two and half years ago when I wrestled with God. The chorus is:
It feels like chaos, but somehow there's peace
And it's hard to surrender, to what I can't see
But I'm giving in to something heavenly
I was so worried that after Abe was born that all the fear and the anxiety that I had during my wrestle with God would come back. It is has been incredible to me that, except for a few little episodes of doubt, I still feel rock solid about my leap of faith. I feel like the bands on my heart have burst open and the amount of love I feel for God's children, especially those waiting for their mortal experience, is overwhelming. I now understand what Enoch felt when after seeing all of God's creations the scriptures say:
I feel like my heart is swelling as wide as eternity and the amount of love I feel is incredible. I know, and it has changed everything. Perfect love does indeed cast out all fear. I can bear testimony of that.
My Father-in-law sent me this article "Saint Patrick: Worthy to be Called a Saint" by Michael Wilcox, and I thought it was an appropriate thing to share this time of year. I know it might sound really shallow, but until I read this article the idea never crossed my mind that St. Patrick's day was about a Saint named Patrick. I only associated the holiday with leprechauns, wearing green, and pinching people. I had no conception that there might be a spiritual dimension to the day. It was really interesting to read a little more about St. Patrick's life. Here is a snippet from the article:
"Patrick was born on the west coast of England in the early years of the fifth century. He was a Roman Christian, “a simple countryman . . . a beardless boy,” as he described himself. This was a dangerous time to be alive. Rome was falling and the legions that once protected the civilized life in Britain were leaving, exposing the island to a never ending series of raids. One such attack took the teenaged Patrick from family and friends across the Irish Sea where he pastured flocks on Ireland’s hills in the cold rains and wind of the northern winters. Now the boy, who by his own admission, “did not know the true God . . . did not keep his precepts” found his only solace in prayer.
After escaping from slavery and returning home, Patrick later felt called by God to return to Ireland.
"...Patrick came to Ireland as a boy, a slave, he returned with a forgiving heart, with the love of Christ—and God worked his miracle with this youth, for when he died many years later the voices of the children had been answered. They and their own children for generations, into the last edges of time, would know the gentle God who walked the shores of Galilee, would know that they too held a place in his heart. He sent them Patrick—God’s gift to the Irish and to all of us. In time Irish monks, inspired by the example of their patron saint would spread throughout Western Europe teaching the barbaric tribes who had invaded the old boundaries of the Roman Empire. They, like Patrick, would bring goodness and light, the civilizing force of their knowledge, into a world on the brink of darkness.
“I was like a stone lying in deep mire,” Patrick wrote, “and he that is mighty came, and in his mercy raised me up and, indeed, lifted me high and placed me on the top of the wall. And from there I ought to shout out in gratitude to the Lord for his great favors in this world and forever that the mind of man cannot measure.”
Incredible huh? I had no idea about this aspect of St. Patrick's day. My husband's family is all from Ireland and so his family always has big festivities on March 17th. I am excited to incorporate St. Patrick into our St. Patrick's day celebration from now on. Just another amazing dimension of my children's family history!
I was really looking forward to attending the BYU Women's Conference this year. I have never been before and have been planning on it all year. Yesterday though I found out that they don't allow nursing babies to attend the conference! I was so disappointed. I understand that they don't want to have 50 women with crying babies distracting the speakers and the audience but really you think that at a WOMEN'S conference (especially an LDS women's conference) they would try to find a way to accommodate women with little babies. I just find it hard to believe that in a big group of women you wouldn't find compassion and understanding for women who also want to be spiritually enriched and uplifted, but who happen to have a baby. Couldn't they work something out, so that young mothers don't feel "punished" for having a little nursling who sometimes cries, fusses, or drinks loudly? I don't mean to vent, but this just really bothers me.. a lot. I guess maybe if I went with a group of women we might be able to work out some sort of baby watching/nursing rotation... but ugg. I REALLY wanted to go this year!
Okay, vent over.
Speaking of nurslings.
Here is my little one.
He just turned 4 months old. I can't believe how fast he is growing up. He has started to laugh and I don't think there is anything better in the world. He just brings so much joy in to our home. Don't those cheeks just have "Kiss Me" written all over them?!
Have a wonderful weekend!
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