In church yesterday, as I was singing the sacrament hymn, “Reverently and Meekly Now”….something struck me about the words.

I will never look at this hymn the same way as I did before.  Never.  Every time I sing it I will picture His voice…..His face…..His eyes looking into mine…..pleading for me to never forget.

To always remember.

I am never alone.

He has suffered all so that I don’t have to.

He loves me.  Me.

The post Music of the Savior appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Around this time last year, I was so huge and pregnant that the last thing I felt was “holiday cheer.” Then I gave birth to my son Cole and I immediately felt a connection to the Savior and to his mother, Mary. It took me aback in many ways. I didn’t expect to gain the testimony I did in regards to motherhood and Christmas…but am so grateful I did.

The best gifts I’ve ever received didn’t come in beautiful wrapped boxes with bows on top.  They grew within me for three-fourths of a year and then were pushed into this world with all the strength I had.  They were gifts from God…bringing with them promises of a wider road to travel for our growing family.  And with that road, came more than just new, little spirits for us to guide through this life…..they gave my husband and me a reason to walk a little taller, be a little better, work a little harder to be all that we should and could be for them.  And so with the Savior’s birth every year, we celebrate the road that we’re on and the blessing of having a Savior in our life to help us make it through each day.

The post Mormon Motherhood: The Best Gifts… appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

I think too often, we as ladies, when we get up in the mornings, we look at ourselves in the mirror with the intention of finding what we need to fix or correct, and not acknowledge seeing the beauty that is there by simply being who we are. Instead, we anxiously have to make sure our teeth are as white and pretty as possible. Or we have to have on every “anti wrinkle, sun spot, blotchy skin, anything that makes us appear old” cream possible. Or we cringe at acne, hairs on our face where they are not supposed to be, and under eye bags.

Rarely do we get up in the morning, look in the mirror and as Happy Days’ “The Fonz” would do when he’s just about to comb his hair, say “Hey!” with confident approval and leave ourselves just as we are.

I admit, sometimes I am one of those gals.

A wonderful friend of mine though, reminded me that true beauty goes beyond our earthy bodies.

Recently, I was driving in my car and the thought came to me, “I need to go see Becky.” She had just delivered a premature baby boy at a nearby hospital. After being on strict bed rest in the hospital for some time, the baby just couldn’t wait to come into this world, and sure enough, way before his due date, he was welcomed, weighing just over three pounds.

So I got in contact with her, and later that night, I found myself driving to meet her and her latest family addition. Her husband met me at the doors that went into the NICU, took me to the washing area where I scrubbed my arms and hands like a doctor, and minutes later I was standing in a room that their little baby was in, along with numerous other little babies. Becky was standing next to his incubator with a smile on her face, so proud to show me her lil’ guy. My heart leaped within as I looked at him. He was absolutely beautiful. His head was covered with dark hair and his little feet were crossed. From head to toe, I saw heaven.

I was grateful to have brought my camera with me and asked to take a few shots of her holding him.  She had just started Kangaroo Care that evening and had forgotten her own camera at home.  I silently watched my sweet friend gently hold her son on her chest. She glowed. She looked like an angel….an angel mother. I kept my tears back as well as I could. She said jokingly, “Now I don’t have any make up on, so we’re going to have to edit these pictures.” I smiled with her, but inside all I could see on her face, in her eyes, was beauty.  It was something I will never forget.  I felt the Spirit of God so strong in that moment. And I felt honored and humbled to be given such an opportunity to share it with her and her son.

There are so many in this world that simply have no clue, no idea what true beauty looks like. And I am here to tell you, that on that night….beauty like looked a mother holding her child late in the evening in a place full of those whose lives hung by a thread. It looked like a child who didn’t take one breath, one more day lived, one moment with his sweet parents for granted. It looked like a father watching and hoping and praying every second of every minute of every hour of every day that his son would improve and grow and progress and get stronger so that he could fulfill his mission here in this life.

That is beauty. That is real. That is love.

The post True Beauty appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

I love the beach.  I love watching the water come swiftly up to my feet, cover them up, then just as quickly, reside back from the shore.  The wave takes everything away and makes the sand smooth again.

The post At waters edge… appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

I feel like those days happen to me all the time.

And I used to get so upset at the world…and everyone around me….and at myself.  I’m not a control freak, really.  I just appreciate when things go according to plan, you know?

Then after the symbolic storm of a day has ended and I am able to somewhat catch my breath…I realize the lessons I needed to learn from the craziness of it all.

–I remember that even if I can’t control the world, I should never let the world control me.  I decide how I react to life…in all it’s curveballs, I still am the one holding the bat, deciding if I’m going to swing or let it fly by.

–I remember that life is not something you can safely and securely wrap in a neat and tidy little box.  It is messy.  It is flighty.  It is real, in your face, craziness.  And that is okay.  Because if everything went just how I wanted it to, where would the opportunities to grow and learn and become more like my Savior, come from?

And finally…

-I remember to be grateful for those moments of peace when they do come amidst the fast winds of uncertainty.  We can’t truly appreciate the sweet if we haven’t experienced the bitter…in all it’s many, many forms.

Soon the day is over and I fall asleep.  Giving my body and spirit the rest that it needs until I wake up the next morning and deal with another day of unplanned adventures all over again.  But this time, hopefully, I’ve gained a little more insight and let go of a little of that need to control everything around me.

The post When things go wrong… appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Last week, we were running late, so before I started the car, I quickly said a silent prayer and then we were off.  On the way to the school, Josie got very upset that I didn’t say a prayer, and I told her I did but that it was “in my heart”.  To my relief and amazement all at the same time, she understood what a silent prayer was and that was that.

Well, the next day, wouldn’t you know it, we were running late again.  Josie knew I was in a hurry and as soon as she and I buckled ourselves, she asked me if she could say the prayer “in her heart” for us.  I smiled and readily agreed.  So I sat there and watched her in the rear view mirror.  She bowed her head, closed her eyes, and smiled.  A few seconds later, she looked up, unfolded her arms and said, “Okay.  We can go now.”

I love that girl.

The post A day in the life of a Mormon: Our afternoon routine appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

My parents just celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary. My siblings and I threw them a huge bash in the hopes of recreating their original wedding reception back in the summer of 1970. Minus the bell bottoms and Cher-like hair, of course.

We left nothing out. There was a wedding cake with their original topper on it. Original bridesmaids and groomsmen were invited. A guestbook table was set up with their original sign in pages for guests to put their signature on. We even used my Mom’s original wedding colors in the decor. There was reception-like food, professional photos taken, and their first dance recreated. And we were even lucky enough to do this entire celebration in the original church building.

It was a grand night, to say the least.

What was so interesting to me though, was that amidst all the hustle and bustle to make the evening a magical memory for my parents, what I came away with in the end was something entirely different.

I was standing there next to my husband who was DJing the evening, watching my Dad escort my Mom onto the dance floor for their first dance of the night, and it hit me. This was what love looked like. Two old people, awkwardly dancing, holding each other up, with my Mom’s head leaning ever so gently on my Dad’s chest. You could feel the history of their lives together in that dance. Their struggles and triumphs. Their good days and bad. Their many ups and downs. And through it all…here they were….still together.

That’s what true, eternal love is and will always be to me.

Oh how grateful I am for parents who taught me not only how to find love in this world, but more importantly, how to keep it. And by making their commitment to each other more than just a “till death do us part” kinda thing…starting their marriage off in the temple where we can be sealed as families forever and ever. Beyond the grave. Beyond this life. Beyond the skies and planets and stars…..our bonds as husband and wife are eternal. Now that my friends, is true love.

I couldn’t help but smile at my husband as the song ended and my parents remained, holding hands, as they greeted their family and friends who had come to congratulate them on their special day. He winked at me and I giggled. And I must admit…the tears filling up my eyes were ones of pure joy.

The post My Parents Wedding Anniversary appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Some may find it hard to believe, but the gal I am at church on Sunday’s is not always the gal I am the other six days of the week.  And while I strive to merge my “two personalities” into one….I fail most of the time.  But I’ve recently come to accept it.  I am who I am.  Yes, constantly striving to be like my Savior and most of the time seeming to come up short, but nonetheless, still trying.

For those of you out there who find my split personality acknowledgment beyond annoying, please let me explain.  More importantly, let me help you understand that we all, at one time or another in our lives, have the same exact issue as I do.  And it’s okay.  Really, it is.

There is a reason why Sunday has been separated in the eyes of God for us.  It is the ever popular “Day of Rest.”  For us Mormon Women, that may seem like a far fetching definition…but who is to blame for that?  Yes, I’ve found myself cleaning up breakfast dishes, doing last minute laundry for church, washing what seems to be endless heads of lil’ girls and then putting in various bows and clips and ponytails to complete their looks of utter cuteness. And yes, I think to myself, “Day of Rest, my foot!”  But it is what it is.  And when I walk though the chapel doors of my church I look at my family with a smile.  Yes, the smile may only last for a minute or two before one of my children starts to act like a monkey and falls off the pew while reaching for a gold fish cracker…but that smile….it existed.  And I relish it’s existence…short as it may have been.

Then the opening hymn starts to be played on the organ.  And I hear the sounds of my favorite song filling the air all around me.  After a time, I listen to the sacrament being blessed…those words….those beautiful words hold my heart….as I so desperately try to hold on to the child that is wanting to dance and sing Primary songs in between the pews.  She calms down as I gently whisper to her what the bread and water mean.  I tell her of Christ.  I tell her how much He loves her and wants her to sit and be still so that she can feel His love for her through the gift of the Holy Ghost.  She listens and again, that smile is back on my face.

Before I know it, speakers that have been assigned to talk to us are up at the microphone.  The share their testimonies of the gospel with us. They encourage us to be like Christ, to keep His commandments, to live as He would live….and so much more. I’m grateful that my oldest child is paying attention and that my middle child is quietly coloring next to me and my husband. The baby boy is being held by my friend behind me, loving every minute of it.  And yes….you guessed it….my smile has emerged again.

By the time sacrament meeting is over, it’s off the the rest of our church meetings.  For the next two hours I enjoy Sunday School and Relief Society.  I laugh. I cry. I listen. I pray. I sing. I thank.  Boy, do I thank my Heavenly Father for all my blessings.

And then church is over….and it’s back home we go.

I try my very best to keep the Spirit of Church going in my home the rest of the day. And most of the time…it’s there.

Then I wake up Monday morning….and it’s back to the weekly wear and tear in our lives.  And I find myself slowly changing from “Sunday Woman” to “Rest of the Week Woman.”  Like I said, I do my best to merge the two.  But heaven knows I can’t wait for Sunday to roll around again so that I can be “Spiritually Recharged” for the other six days.

It is what it is.  And I’m grateful to just be able to recognize the difference…and more importantly…keep trying to come unto Christ.  To be like Him….

The post Mormon Motherhood: Sunday Mommy vs. Rest of the week Mommy appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

My aunt then expressed how, even though her ancestors weren’t pioneers, that she was still a good member of the church. That it shouldn’t matter if you are a first generation member or if your past relatives shook the hand of Joseph Smith. That the blessings we feel from belonging to Christ’s church on the earth should be universally praised and felt, regardless of the specifics of our lineage.

I come from a pioneer family. On both my mother’s side and my father’s. They traveled across the plains. They faced many hardships after leaving their homelands, some from Canada, many from England and Europe. All the stories you may have heard of death and sickness and pain….my family experienced. I have journals and family history records that could fill a bookcase.

But rarely do I share these truths with others.  And here is why.

It’s not that I don’t appreciate and praise all that my ancestors went through so that I could be where I am today. I do. Believe me I do. It’s just that…I have this feeling…this sacred, quiet and beautiful feeling that my pioneer family would not want to be put on a pedestal so high, so above everyone and everything, praised and adored and made into eternal heroes, that they are revered to the point that we forget why they were who they were.  Why they did what they did.  They would want us to be like the Savior…as they tried to be like Him.

When my husband’s aunt told me of this woman, she was quite upset.  I then told her of my family’s history. Of my own relatives’ pioneer heritage, and that what her church friend said, was not only inaccurate, but that it wasn’t something she should dwell on. In the gospel, we all are on an equal playing field. Jesus Christ, our Savior and Redeemer, suffered for us all so that, if we follow Him, we can live in the eternities with those we love and with our Heavenly Father. And one will not get their simply because he or she married someone of “pioneer stock.”  The only way we can achieve eternal life is by using our agency, our free will, to follow the Savior and by keeping all of His commandments. Not because one of our distant relatives crossed the plains as Mormon pioneers.

I am grateful for my ancestors. But do I follow the Savior because of them?  No. I do it for myself and for my family and for those around me. And I think that my ancestors would be perfectly fine with that…in fact, I believe they would feel the same way.

The post Thoughts on my pioneer family appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Every Tuesday and Thursday the ladies in our ward congregation get together for a big “water playdate.”

We meet at a local city splash pad and watch the kids enjoy the water while we sit in the shade and enjoy each others company.

It’s so fun to be around friends who “get” you.

All the ups and downs that come with being a mommy can become overwhelming sometimes,

but when you have great people to hang with that understand where you’re coming from,

it makes you feel like you’re not alone.  Angels here on earth, I tell ya.

After the morning play date, my kids and I head on over to a friend’s swimming pool to deal with the continued heat of the sun.

I love to watch my kids splash and play with each other, making family memories along the way.  I love my kids.

I am so grateful to have the many blessings I do.

Life is good!

The post Summer Fun appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.