(Me with my dad at a petting zoo, circa 1982 or 1983)

One of my favorite memories is from when I was a little girl – I’m wearing a dress that my mom made me, my hair is curly and I’m standing on my dad’s toes. He’s wearing jeans and tee-shirt (a red one with a fish on it that reads “Every man must believe in something, I believe I’ll go fishing.”) and he is dancing me around the kitchen while singing the alphabet song. This is the way that I learned my ABC’s. We danced and he sang over and over again.

Looking back, I see how much I learned from my father. He’s an attorney by trade. He taught me how important education is. He taught me how to work hard and how to play hard. He taught me the importance of being together as a family, too. People always assumed that since he was an attorney, we were well off financially. My dad worked in his own practice, going to work at eight in the morning and coming home at five. His evenings and weekends were always available for family time. Looking back I see that he could have worked for a different law firm and potentially made more money, but that wasn’t as important to him as having time to spend with the family.

My dad is not a practicing member of the LDS church, but he was (and is) supportive of us. He would help my mom to get the five of us kids ready for church. He would lead us in prayers over the food at the supper table. He presided over Family Home Evening. He came to church if one of us was speaking or if it was the Father’s Day program in sacrament meeting. In my teen years, my faith wavered because of this – in my mind, I didn’t understand how my dad, the smartest man I knew, didn’t believe. With time, I’ve come to understand that it’s okay that we don’t believe the same things. He respects what I believe, and I respect what he believes.

There were a few things that my dad did while I was growing up that really showed me that he loves me. One was always coming to watch me perform – whether it was the play I wrote and directed with my best friend in junior high school, church basketball games, or recreation league softball games. He and my mom even came to watch once when I was on a bowling league after high school. Another thing he did was read the books that I was reading. He didn’t always comment on them (whether he liked them or not), but it was something that bonded us together.

My dad expected a lot out of us – responsibility, honesty, respect, kindness, and more. But he always gave us the same in return.  I could not ask for more in a father.  I love him.

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There are kids to get dressed for a park playdate, a grocery store shopping trip, an elderly couple in our ward to visit, and back home for lunch and nap time.  Not to mention all the housework to do in between.  And that all needs to happen before noon.  By the time both hands on the clock hit the 12, both kiddies are taking naps, and I’m working on putting together a dinner for the crock pot, an e-mail to a dear friend who lives far away, a phone call to my Mom to see how her doctor’s visit went, and numerous mental sticky notes to get to when I come up for air.

The kids wake up at 2 pm and by 2:30, we’re out the door to pick up our 8-year-old from school and off to take her to one of her many after school activities.  There usually is one every other day.  By the time we walk through our door back home it’s around 5 pm and the house is smelling heavenly from whatever it is I somewhat put together in the crock pot.  Homework is done at the kitchen table.  Piano practicing is done at the….well, the piano of course.  Toys are picked up and put away.  The table is set for dinner and hopefully by the time we have everything ready before we say a blessing on the food, Daddy has come home from work.

After dinner is over, kids are getting jammies on in their rooms and my husband and I get a millisecond to exhale and tell each other about our days.  If one of us doesn’t have to be at the church for our various church callings/activities, we both enjoy our house coming alive with the sounds of Disney channel, or a fun family movie, or kids playing make believe “I’m a Movie star” with various household objects like brooms, dog leashes, and dish towels.  (Don’t ask….what they pretend these objects to be baffles even my brain….and I gave birth to these kids!:))

By 8pm, all their little teeth are brushed and we are kneeling in the girls room for family prayer.  With heads bowed and arms folded we thank Heavenly Father for our blessings and ask for things that we need….and depending on the individual saying the prayer, those needs vary….greatly.  Our 8-year-old often prays that she’ll do well in school the next day.  Our 4-year-old asks that she has good dreams and that her baby brother will stop crying.  (He doesn’t’ cry as often as she thinks he does…but for a four-year-old, any noise that is not pleasing to them can be taken as negative.  Bless her heart.)  I usually ask that we stay safe and that we’ll be protected in our upcoming day’s activities.

The girls get in their beds after we all give hugs and kisses, then we put our baby to bed and…..party!  Not!  My husband and I are just too exhausted for that….like we’re a couple of old folks, I tell ya.  By 9 pm, my eye lids are extremely heavy and I climb into bed, thankful I got around to washing the pillow cases and sheets that day.  My husband soon follows, and soon we are in la-la land.  That is except on the days when one of the girls comes in and tells us they aren’t feeling well and throw up all over their feet.  Those nights are fun….

But it is what it is.  And I wouldn’t trade a minute of my life for anything else.

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I have been a member of the Church all my life. My husband and I raised seven children and I am a contented grandmother of thirteen. I love doing many things: Family History, reading, keeping up with politics, gardening, attending and working in the temple, collecting dolls, and playing the violin.

The more I attend the temple, the more honored I feel to be able to be there. I am grateful to be a worker to help those who come as they participate in sacred ordinances and take time be in this place that for us, as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, is the holiest place on earth.

This Easter, I was asked to play my violin for the temple workers in the early morning prayer meeting.  I didn’t hesitate to accept, but had an extra challenge to be able to play well, because I have had fibromyalgia for about eight years, and the pain and shaking make playing very difficult.  I worried, and took my problem to the Lord in prayer, asking him to help me perform in a manner He would approve of, and to help me overcome my fibro, just for this once.

The piece I chose to play was “The Holy City.” It is an inspiring, stirring, classic piece based on a verse in Revelation where John sees The New Jerusalem.  I have always loved it. But because I would have to play at 6:30 am, it would be hard to get my hands dextrous enough to do it correctly.  Some mornings I arose early to practice, but I was half asleep as I played, and it sounded terrible.  I was really worried, but kept on practicing and praying, neglecting to make dinner and do housecleaning. I tried not to look at the things piling up around me.  I just “sawed!”  Fortunately, I have a wonderful husband who picked up the slack in the kitchen and did the laundry for us.

The night before I was to perform, I hardly slept. I dozed for two hours, then got up and practiced to keep my fingers warm, the notes in tune and consistent, and my vibrato steady, then went back to bed and dozed again. I prayed as I played. At last it was 3 am and I rose for the final time,  got ready and practiced while my husband got ready.  I was frightened and shaking with nerves.  I went on my knees to ask my Heavenly Father to be with me and help me to play in a manner worthy of his holy house.

We arrived at the temple a little before six, and I felt peace and quiet there, and was able to calm down.  I changed into my white dress [we all wear white in the temple] and walked down to the chapel.  My accompanist and I had time to go over it once, and I felt comfortable and prepared. I glanced at my sisters and brothers, dressed in pure white and smiling, and felt their love and support very strongly.  The Lord’s Spirit was there.  My husband sat beside me to silently cheer me on, and when the time came to get up and play, I felt Heavenly Father soothe my nervousness and help my playing  project his love at this Easter time to my fellow temple workers.

When we finished and I sat down, my husband whispered, “Perfect!”  After the meeting, I received compliments from just about everyone, and all throughout the morning they came up to express their love.  Some said it brought tears to their eyes.

I knew that my Heavenly Father helped me to play in a “heavenly” manner in His house, and took away my physical problem for those few minutes.  I felt His spirit there with me, and will never forget that rare privilege.

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Growing up, I didn’t know how good I had it. I had a mom and dad who loved each other, a sister to quarrel with over clothes and friends, two baby brothers to wrestle with, two dogs waiting by the door for me when I came home from school and some lively fish who liked to jump out of their tank. Life was good — so good in fact, that I’m trying to recreate my childhood with my own family. (Well except for the pets part; my husband and I are delaying the inevitable “poop scooping” era of our lives.) Aside from that, we’re following good example set by our parents.

This YouTube video entitled “Life in a Mormon Family” made me reflect on the fun times I had with my own family.  While not all LDS families are this large, we are a people who prize children as wonderful blessings from our Father in Heaven. I admire the time and sacrifice these parents have put into raising their eight children.

Here is the intro provided by the parents for their own heartfelt family video. Have fun getting to know this wonderful family.

You might call us the stereotypical Mormon family. With Mom, Dad, and 8 kids, we are just a little larger than the national average. 😉
Having a big family may not be for everyone and may not always be considered “cool”, but we’ve loved every minute of it.

Do you have fun family videos you’d like to share with others here at mormonwoman.org? Please email us at mormonwoman(at)gmail(dot)com.

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For more Family Friday content, see here.

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Se puede ver un PDF del anuncio en Español .

Browse frequently asked questions about the LDS edition of the Bible in Spanish here.

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Text:

You can find the searchable online text on the LDS Spanish Scriptures site: Las Escrituras

Or go directly to the Old Testament: Antiguo Testamento

Or the New Testament: Nuevo Testamento

Audio:

Audio versions of La Santa Biblia are also available:

Antiguo Testamento, audio en MP3

Nuevo Testamento, audio en MP3

Video will be available on October 3.

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If you are interested in staying updated with the Church’s Newsroom feeds, there are many ways to stay in the loop.

Twitter, Facebook, YouTube, Widgets, E-mail, Text Alerts and RSS

You can also find news and interesting stories about and from Mormons at the Church News site.

(Note that the LDS Newsroom and the Church News are official/authorized sites of the Church. The Deseret News and Mormon Times (featured in the sidebar of the Church News website), are not official Church resources, but often contain stories that may be of interest to those interested in Mormons and Mormon life.)

The post Links We Like: LDS Edition of Bible in Spanish; Connecting to LDS Church News online appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

“Food Storage for Smaller Families”: We wanted to find some ideas for those who have limited space or money and who may feel overwhelmed with the notion of food storage. This article from LDS Living magazine has some helpful tips on starting small and getting creative with limited space. A little food storage is better than none at all! If you are single, newly married, living in a small space, or on a limited budget, this article is worth a read. (p.s. Even though this is in an LDS magazine, the advice is useful regardless of your religious beliefs.)

The Damsel in Dis Dress (you know already she’s clever by that title) shares her “New Old School” tips. A great site full of helpful information, lots of lovely pictures, and a fun writing style. We also love the fact that she’s connecting us with what she has learned from women before her, including her mother and grandmother. Now a grandmother herself, she’s keeping the lessons alive.

Safely Gathered In: This site was created by a woman who had the simple desire to be helpful to the women in her ward congregation. (Her current calling is to help the sisters with home preparedness.) Be sure to browse through the recipes — complete with lots of great pictures! (For anyone with a garden overflowing with zucchini, she’s got some ideas for how to use it.)

Food Storage Made Easy: Follow along with Jodi and Julie as they teach you what they’re learning about emergency preparedness and food storage, one BabyStep at a time.  They have even created numerous videos.

Everyday Food Storage: Get great ideas about how to include food storage foods in your everyday cooking. Includes a broad variety of recipes that use both shorter-term and longer-term food storage items.

Find other preparedness links (including videos) in this previous article on our site.

The post Links We Like: Food Storage and Preparedness appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

…or by sharing your thoughts on a gospel topic.

But if magazines are more your speed, the Church’s Ensign magazine is looking for submissions as well. See here for a list of topics in which they are particularly interested.

In the June Ensign, you can also find a couple of requests for submissions. One is “Tuning Out and Tuning On” (you can find that on the list above) and the other on the best marriage advice you have ever received (see the bottom of this page).

The post Would you like to share a story about how the gospel affects your life? appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

You see, our darling old 1922 bungalow had grown a bit shabby at the farthest edges of its trim, all cracked and peeling. Over the course of our precipitously precipitatious Pacific Northwest winter, unfortunately, that can wreak havoc on the wood underneath. The weather forecasts foretold just one week left until the rains set in for the year. It was ‘now or never.’ As every painter in the area was booked solid, we found that the only choices were to risk damage to the wood or repaint it ourselves. Naturally, we chose to take it on, with a little help from the guys at our local hardware store.

We purchased two sets of ‘paint eater’ power sanders, lead-rated respirators, and goggles, and set to work sanding off the old paint. All went well until we started getting to where we had to use just about all 28 feet of the ladder, approaching the ridgeline of the roof. My husband did make it up there one time, and he even did some sanding. When he made his way back down the ladder, though, he was blanched and said that he wouldn’t do it again. “It can’t be that bad,” I thought, as I began a climb up the ladder that ended about two-thirds of the way up, where I froze. I couldn’t go up; I couldn’t go down. My arms felt numb, and I had to consciously convince myself to keep breathing.

There we were, with the trim half-done, sanded to the bare wood, and neither of us feeling able to complete the task. There was a panicked round of phone calls to every house painter in the local phone book, of course to no avail. One of the painters even joked that not only could he not come paint my house, he needed me to come paint a few houses for him. That was it – no help to be had. Not being willing to risk the inevitable water damage, we had to figure something out.

We finally decided that since I weigh little more than half of what my husband does, it made sense for me to be the one to go up the ladder, with him steadying it at the base. The solution made sense, but that didn’t make it easy.

As I stood at the base of the ladder, with the bucket in my hand, I knew that it was time, and I knew that it was up to me to get it done. For all my sense of duty, my knees still felt as if they’d slide right out from under me any moment; my hands again were numb; and my heart was pounding such that I could feel my own pulse all through my body. As my free hand made contact with the cold aluminum of the ladder, a shot of adrenaline coursed through my veins. Fear gripped me.

I began climbing slowly. As my head was clearing the first story of the house, though, I just stopped. The slightest shift of my weight sent the ladder jiggling. I was climbing one-handed, as I had to hold the bucket with the other hand. The wind was blowing at me from the side in a most unnerving fashion. I tried playing various mental games with myself to get moving again. Alas, again, I was frozen in place on the ladder. “I have to do this,” I told myself, and, even still, I could not lift my foot to move it to the next rung.

A conversation that I recently had with a friend suddenly flashed unexpectedly through my mind, and I found myself remembering remarks about how, with the Lord to call on, we really can handle anything with grace, acceptance, and peace. I closed my eyes and simply said “Lord, help me take this next step.” The bonds of fear that had held my foot fast were gone. I went up one rung on the ladder. “Lord, help me take this next step,” I prayed again, up one more. “Lord, help me take this next step,” again and again. Soon, I found myself at the top of the ladder.

Through every step of my task, as I called out to Him, the Lord heard those little prayers and sustained me, holding my fear at bay and steadying me for the work at hand. I was taught again that with the Lord to call on, we truly can handle anything that life gives, be it scary, tragic, urgent, tedious, intense, sorrowful, puzzling, or random; be it a life-changing loss or a moment of minutia like a climb up a ladder, He is there, and He hears us, strengthens us, and sustains us.

-by Naiah

Read more First Person essays here.

Would you like to submit a First Person essay? Submit essays to ‘mormonwoman’ AT ‘gmail’ DOT ‘com’.

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