My name’s Trina Browning. My passions are singing, reading, blogging at Tidbits From Trina, teaching CPR and First Aid, secret service and hanging out with my family. I am who I am because of the examples, experiences, blessings and challenges I’ve had throughout my life. Not all of them good, not all of them bad. I wouldn’t change any of them. I’ve learned and been strengthened and shaped by each and felt blessed by the many great experiences the Lord has given me.

I grew up in a home with many challenges. We endured financial struggles and my mom had major health problems including difficulties carrying children due to double female organs, a stroke and cancer. I watched my mom bury more children than most could comprehend. Being the oldest I felt the need to be responsible and a good example to my three younger siblings as well as easy on my parents. The fabulous thing about growing up in our home was I rarely felt the burdens of our challenging situations. My parents were strong. They taught us to love each other and love the Lord. They taught us not to complain. They taught us to find humor and goodness. They taught us to develop our talents. They taught us to look for our blessings. It wasn’t hard – there were many!

The summer between my junior and senior years in high school I was in the Miss Teen America pageant in Hollywood. Although I didn’t place in the top 10 an agent heard me sing during the talent competition. He contacted my parents and offered to put me on tour opening for a successful artist. I was ecstatic. I’d been singing since I was just little. I LOVE to perform. This was truly a dream come true. It was such a huge decision that would affect the rest of my life that I needed to pray about it. After I started to pray I got scared. I’d have to leave my home and tour with a chaperone, being homeschooled on the road by people I didn’t know. Then I had a strong realization that this life wouldn’t be good for my future children. I knew my answer and gave up my dream so I could be the kind of mom I wanted to be. Raising my kids the way Heavenly Father wants me to is worth everything I gave up. No regrets.

At the end of my freshman year in college at BYU Idaho (then called Ricks College) my mom was diagnosed with a brain tumor. She was given three months to live. I remember when a hospice nurse showed up at our doorstep. My mom was lying on the couch and told the lady that no one at our home was dying; she must have the wrong house. She lived for 15 more years, long enough to see all of my children on this earth. Her faith was incredible.

In my second year of college at BYU Idaho (then called Ricks College) Elder Yoshihiko Kikuchi, a general authority in our church offered to give my mom a blessing. She asked if I’d like to come. I wanted to but I already had a date with a really cute guy named Kevin- so I brought him along. After the most remarkable blessing I’ve ever heard, Elder Kikuchi bluntly asked Kevin and I when we were getting married. Embarrassed we let him know we’d only been dating for 2 weeks. He then told us he married his wife only 2 weeks after meeting her. Although I don’t think he was telling us we were meant to be together forever, it definitely put some thoughts in our heads. I became Kevin’s wife just a few months later in the Portland, Oregon temple.

Interestingly enough, Elder Kikuchi was scheduled to seal us but his flight was delayed. He called the temple president from the plane and asked if he’d be willing to step in for him as long as it was okay with us. He came and talked to Kevin and I about it. We had the option of rescheduling or having the temple president seal us. We just wanted to get married so we were sealed by the temple president instead. I’ve never regretted that. I love being married to Kevin and realized then that it didn’t matter who married us as long as it was sealed by the Lord so we could be together forever.

We (intentionally) had 5 kids in 7 years. My husband’s theory was ‘the sooner you get them out, the sooner you get them out’. We thought it’d be fun to have a few years to travel or go on missions after the kids were grown and while we’re still somewhat healthy. A few years ago we added a developmentally disabled teenage boy to the mix through a system similar to foster care. Although he has a family who loves him dearly and is involved in his life we love being his second family and the people he lives with. When he became an adult we realized we were attached to him. So we made the necessary arrangements for him to continue to stay with us. Including him we have 6 kids between the ages of 20 and 13. Being a mom is the most important and rewarding blessing I’ve received. I thank Heavenly Father each day for my children and the opportunity I have of being their earthly mom. I believe these children are mine, on loan from Heavenly Father and I need to do everything I can to guide them back to Him. I constantly strive to be as good a mom as I had. My kids deserve it.

A few years ago, on a very hot summer day, Kevin was coming back from a hiking trip in his truck. His brother was right behind him in a different car. The truck started to over-heat but he was unable to pull over for many miles due to construction on the freeway. Finally, he made it to an exit and parked the truck. He got in with his brother thinking he’d come back late that night when it had cooled down and drive it home then. When they went back to get the truck they found it in more than one piece, burned, along with a lot of land. We learned that just minutes after Kevin parked it, it literally blew up, catching many acres of land on fire. It took three fire agencies including a fire helicopter to put it out. We were shocked to find we would probably be sued for around 2 million dollars. We were numb. I remember sitting in my newly decorated master bathroom wondering if we’d lose our home and everything else. The possessions I’d loved just days before meant very little to me any longer. I realized that we could lose it all but as long as we had each other we’d be okay. It was a relief to know no one could take away the things that mattered most to us, our children and the gospel. We fasted and prayed. We exercised faith that the Lord’s will, would come about. We sure hoped the Lord’s will was our will but were grateful that things were in His hands and would work for our best, whatever that was. After many stressful months we received word from our attorney that the agencies had decided not to pursue a lawsuit any further. That was a life changing experience.

The Lord has given me opportunities to learn and grow, to shape myself into a daughter that he’d be pleased with. I’m a work in progress but I’m improving. Through the atonement of Jesus Christ I’m empowered to do those things He wants me to. I’m grateful for Heavenly Father’s plan and that he puts such importance on families. I look forward to the day that my family and I meet Him again.

The post Portraits of Mormon Women: Trina appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Jenny Oaks Baker, a Mormon woman (member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) has been nominated for a Grammy. This is her first music video, a fun take on “A Whole New World.”

Fast facts about Jenny Oaks Baker:

• She’s a wife and dedicated mother of four. In this Washington Post article, she says: “I’ll drop everything to be there  for my kids. Being a good mother is my number one priority.” (See this article for more about her life.)
• Was performing with a symphony at age eight
• Received her bachelor’s degree from the Curtis Institute of Music in Philadelphia and a master’s degree from the Juilliard School in New York City
• Retired from her seven-year position as first-chair violinist of the National Symphony Orchestra in Washington, D.C. to be more available for her family
• Has performed at Carnegie Hall, Lincoln Center, the Kennedy Center, the Library of Congress and with the National Symphony, Jerusalem Symphony, the San Diego Symphony, and the Utah Symphony Orchestra
• In addition to her Grammy-nominated album, she’s had another album (Then Sings My Soul) that got to No. 1 on the Billboard Charts.
• Music plays a significant part in her family life (all of her children are musicians) and in her faith.
• Daughter of Elder Dallin H. Oaks, who is a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints
• Her violin is over 200 years old. (See this interview with Jenny Oaks Baker.

The post Grammy Nominee Jenny Oaks Baker – Music Video appeared first on Women in The Church of Jesus Christ.

Editor’s note: We are grateful to share this essay from Nicole Carpenter. Nicole is is a Mormon woman, blogger, entrepreneur, wife and mommy to four young children, including a set of identical twins.

~by Nicole Carpenter

Learning I was expecting twins was a shock. Realizing I might lose one was hard. But through faith, the power of prayer and my Heavenly Father’s blessings, I am the lucky mom of two healthy boys.

I’m a busy mom. I’m changing diapers, running car pools and watching soccer games. Every night it’s dinner, dishes, baths, prayers and bedtime — all times four. My husband and I have four children six years old and younger. But we didn’t plan it this way.

A year and a half ago, I was pregnant with our third and final baby. My husband and I received quite the shock when we found out baby number three was actually babies number three and four! We were expecting identical twins. I was never one of those little girls that hoped someday I’d have twins. Yet there I was, lying on my back, staring at two heartbeats on a black and white monitor. All I could do was laugh out loud. It was a nervous laugh, I assure you. Two babies! Me?

Photo credit: Ogden Women and Children's Center/Nicole Carpenter

Things weren’t quite right with those little heartbeats, though. The first one we saw, later to become “Baby B,” was the size of a lima bean; his heartbeat fluttered on the screen. The second heartbeat was found inside a little embryo that looked like a pea and measured six days behind his duplicate. They clearly did not look the same, and the doctors prepared us for what was called a “vanishing twin,” when one twin just reabsorbs. I tried to brace myself.

I belong to The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. I believe life begins at conception. The fact was we were expecting twins. I already had a five-year-old and two-year-old at home. I knew if only one of those babies lived my life would be much easier. What did I hope for? One baby? Two babies? One healthy baby and one disabled baby? The doctors had told me that if “Baby A” did live, he could have birth defects. But I knew I had seen two heartbeats. And once I had seen two heartbeats, I wanted them to become two babies.

I could not pray away my baby! I was an emotional mess. I cried for days.

Our next appointment was two (very long) weeks later. I spent much of those two weeks kneeling in prayer to my Heavenly Father. I believe he has a plan for me and for our family, and I had decided to pray for his will to be done. If this baby did make it, we would love him no matter what.

Finally it was time for the next ultrasound. We were elated to see that not only was he still there, he had been growing! He still measured six days behind his brother, and we still held our breath. We saw specialists throughout the entire pregnancy. “Baby A” continued to grow, always pacing five or six days behind “Baby B.”

Several months into the pregnancy, I remember the day our perinatologist pulled us into a conference room near his office. Holding my husband’s hand, I listened to the doctor tell us they could not find a reason for my baby’s delayed growth. There were no indications of a syndrome or abnormality. At that point there were no signs of twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome. All medical indications were this baby should not have lived, but he had. “We cannot explain it,” the doctor told us.

He kept speaking, but his words began to fade and I was overcome with such emotion. A warm tingly sensation consumed my whole body. In that moment, the Holy Ghost confirmed to me that though the doctors could not explain it, I could. My baby was growing and thriving because of the power of prayer and the blessing of our Heavenly Father. Our God is a god of miracles.

My twin boys just celebrated their first birthday. “Baby A,” who we named Davis, continued to measure a pound less than his brother Mason up until just this month. The first year has been a blur. A happy, sleepless blur. There were moments when I was completely exhausted and wondered how I’d balance it all. I’d stop and realize that this is my Heavenly Father’s plan for me. He has faith in my ability to be a good mom to these four children. If he thinks I can handle twins, then I can handle twins!

Photo credit: Simply Art Photography

Our home is crazy. We’re now running the big kids to and from school, soccer and dance and trying to teach the babies how to safely crawl down the stairs. We have two, always-messy highchairs and toys everywhere, and just last week the twins sneaked into the bathroom and unwound the entire roll of toilet paper!

But when life gets out of control and my mommy superpowers fail, all I have to do is pick up my miracle baby and know that these boys were meant to come to our home, and they were meant to come together. Our lives have been richly blessed ever since.

Nicole Carpenter is overwhelmed by the joy her eternal family and The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints bring her. She owns Sidewalk Communications LLC and blogs at www.TwinsfortheShow.com.

The post First Person: Faith and the power of prayer save our twin baby 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.

~by Heather L.

I always wanted to be a mother… and a detective, and a librarian, and a teacher. And I have always loved to learn!

From the time I was little, my mother was a great example to me of an educated woman – she completed her college degree even after getting married, and got her teaching certificate not too long after I started school. She loved to learn, and took every opportunity to do so, whether it was Friday night “Know Your Religion” classes or a “just because I want to learn” Hebrew class at a local college.

Reading was one of my favorite occupations, and I read voraciously growing up. I can remember my uncle getting frustrated because I was so absorbed in a book that I didn’t hear him calling me… again and again and again. I kept a dictionary in my desk at school that I would read during silent reading time if I didn’t have a novel. I really loved to learn!

Every subject in elementary and high school was exciting to some degree or another – science and dissecting a frog, math and puzzles, reading and writing, creating works of art, playing and appreciating music…. I was blessed with many great teachers who brought those subjects alive and made me want to learn more. Their excitement for learning set fire to mine, and motivated me toward furthering my education, both spiritual and temporal.

They taught as we are counseled in the Doctrine and Covenants 88:78-80, and helped prepare me for my mission in life:

78 Teach ye diligently and my grace shall attend you, that you may be instructed more perfectly in theory, in principle, in doctrine, in the law of the gospel, in all things that pertain unto the kingdom of God, that are expedient for you to understand;
79 Of things both in heaven and in the earth, and under the earth; things which have been, things which are, things which must shortly come to pass; things which are at home, things which are abroad; the wars and the perplexities of the nations, and the judgments which are on the land; and a knowledge also of countries and of kingdoms—
80 That ye may be prepared in all things when I shall send you again to magnify the calling whereunto I have called you, and the mission with which I have commissioned you.

And college — college was like going to an all-you-can-eat buffet -– so many interesting choices, so much to learn, and so much to try! I found joy in geology, solace in singing, an outlet in art, the Spirit in the scriptures (I attended BYU, a Mormon university, so religion classes were part of the curriculum), and so much more. As a matter of fact, when I took a zoology class as part of my major requirements, I thought that if I could do it all over again, I might have chosen zoology as a major – it was like being that detective that I’d dreamed of becoming as a child!

In looking at this buffet, I felt much like Merlin the magician in T.H. White’s The Once and Future King, when he said:

“Look what a lot of things there are to learn…. You can learn astronomy in a lifetime, natural history in three, literature in six. And then, after you have exhausted a million lifetimes in biology and medicine and theocriticism and geography and history and economics, why, you can start to make a cartwheel out of the appropriate wood, or spend fifty years learning to begin to learn to beat your opponent at fencing. After that you can start again on mathematics until it is time to learn to plough.”

I struggled with deciding what to major in – I loved science, and reading, and writing, and history, and math (thanks to a great professor!). How could I choose just one?

So I chose elementary education, to become the teacher I dreamed of being, until I met my husband, and became the mother I had wanted to be all along.

Then, learning became like a torch to be passed to my children’s eager young minds – reading books, going to museums and science centers, doing homework together, mastering technology, passing on my one-handed piano playing skills…. It has been a joy to be able to be at home sharing what I have learned, and watching them surpass me! It is a legacy that we can pass on, and that can last eternally:

Doctrine & Covenants 130:18-19

18 Whatever principle of intelligence we attain unto in this life, it will rise with us in the resurrection.
19 And if a person gains more knowledge and intelligence in this life through his diligence and obedience than another, he will have so much the advantage in the world to come.

Are Mormon women encouraged to be educated? Yes, at every turn, and in both the spiritual and the temporal!

On the spiritual side, we are encouraged to learn from the time we are young, attending everything from Primary classes, to Young Women and Personal Progress, to Seminary and Institute, Family Home Evening, and Relief Society classes. Personal and family study of the gospel and the scriptures is also a key part of being a Mormon woman.

On the temporal side, we are encouraged to be literate and educated, to prepare ourselves for careers, motherhood, and life in general. No effort to learn is wasted –- I have used what I have learned throughout my life in so many ways: at home, in the schools, in the community, at church — and feel that continuing to learn is one of the best investments in my life.

President Gordon B. Hinckley counseled Mormon women to “…educate your hands and your minds. You belong to a church which espouses education. To you young women may I suggest that you get all the education you can. Train yourselves to make a contribution to the society in which you will live. There is an essence of the divine in the improvement of the mind.”

Even as a mother of adult children, I am constantly learning – learning to use my latest cell phone to keep in touch with friends and family; learning to use computer programs to write blogs and make presentations; learning how to research my family history via the Internet and FamilySearch; and my favorite, learning more from the scriptures every day! As I continue to “seek… out of the best books words of wisdom” (Doctrine & Covenants 88:118) I am becoming the librarian I dreamed of being, too.

As Mormon women – as all women “seek learning, even by study and also by faith” it is continual education, — eternal education, life-blessing education. As we share what we learn with our families, friends, and communities, as we learn from one another, our intelligence expands, and together we can do amazing things!

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Q: Do all Mormons home school?

A:  No. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is an international church with members living all over the world and we typically follow the educational norms for our region whether that be public or private, home or boarding schools. A small portion of our members home school when they feel that they can provide a better educational environment at home, others happily send their kids to public school, still others send their children to private school. On occasion members will attend religious private schools provided by other religions – particularly in other countries where public schooling is not offered.

I send my kids to public school. We’ve had a good experience so far. But I am worried about middle school. I would not be opposed to pulling my kids out of school if they fell into the wrong friend group or if I felt they were being bullied by peers or mistreated by the adults at the school. I like having the option of home school and have sufficient education and formal teaching experience to educate my children at home. For now however, I like the education public school provides and my kids are happy.

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As we have now crossed the finish line to the 1st week of school, I am able to pause and reflect on the summer we have enjoyed. I love summer. It’s an extraordinary time. For us, summer is filled with rich memories, people and purpose, time spent with loved ones and of course the excitement of building anticipation for new adventures that lie ahead in the fall.

With school-age children is it easy to get swallowed up in the multitude of tasks associated with being a mother. Being a mother requires skills in all trades but the one skill I value most is patience. Summer really embodies the sweetness of this. During the school year it is rush rush rush… patience is a rare commodity. It is hurry here, hurry there. Taking a cleansing breath can be a rarity, the type of cleansing breath that absorbs the joy of life into every cell of your being. It is hard to do that even during the best of times. Patience is a virtue. I have a deep conviction of its importance.

When summer break befalls, our patience is rewarded as we exhale in relief. Before our busy summer of travels we spent a good two weeks in exhale mode. We played and laughed and enjoyed each other. We played in the rain, blew bubbles, we spent days building forts out of sheets, we enjoyed sleeping in and staying up late. We frequented the pool and skate parks. We listened to music on the internet, built new playlists for my kids who had been begging for months to do so. I purposefully emptied our schedule of everything so I could enjoy the reprieve from my calendar and play with my children, it was heaven on earth.

In Ecclesiastes 3:9  it goes on to say that “What profit hath he that worketh in that wherein he laboureth?”

It is part of God’s marvelous design that we reap the reward after the trial of our faith. We harvest the crop after many days of labor. In many cases we fail to recognize the comfort of warm sun rays on our brow until we have been chilled by winters frost, so it is the case with the love of summer.

Now that kids are back to school and time is once again moving the speed of light, I am loving the new season we are in. Every year at this time I find myself welcoming the change of season, not the weather but the phase of life. I have loved summer for what gifts it brought us but I love that my kids are back in school now, learning and growing and developing as human beings. I love to sit down with them at the end of a day listen to all their doings. Time does pass so quickly and that can be frustrating but I love life and I love that every moment is fleeting, it makes me want to suck as much life and love and joy out of every moment.  I am so very grateful to have the changing seasons of life, I believe that is one of our loving Heavenly Fathers tender mercies in allowing us to fully appreciate the sun’s shine because we have rested in the shade for a time.

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I always knew I’d finish my degree, but I didn’t know it would take me until I was 50 to do it. I had married John during my junior year of college, and we moved away and began having children. Since then I’d been a stay-at-home mom—the only job I ever wanted—but I planned to go back some day and finish what I started.

It seemed like the perfect time when three of our sons were students at the nearby university. I envisioned the four of us studying on the same floor of the library, meeting for lunch once a week, and even taking a class together. Then reality set in. I could only do a tiny fraction of my homework in the library. There wasn’t a single hour where we were all free at the same time, and taking a class together meant taking a nonsense class that wasted time and money.

So, it wasn’t quite like I imagined. In fact, it wasn’t at all like I imagined. The only studying I’d done in 20 years was to help with 5th grade math homework, and only because John was out of town. I couldn’t believe how much they expected me to read! And most challenging of all? I had to learn to use the computer. I was painfully slow at it, but by the end of the first semester, I could cut and paste without scissors, send mail without a stamp and browse without getting out of my chair.

There were other challenges as well. My son, Gary, describes the day he saw a woman across the campus courtyard, contorting and flailing her right arm while trying to get it under her backpack strap. I came from the era that didn’t know what “ergonomics” was, and we carried our backpacks slung over one shoulder, like a purse. But my aching back didn’t like that approach any more, and apparently, my strap was a little too tight, and as Gary drew closer he realized, “Oh my goodness. That’s my mom!” He hurried forward to help me, and probably to keep me from making a bigger fool of myself.

I was a piano performance major when I was a young student, but now, with two teenagers still at home, practicing 4-5 hours a day was out of the question. So I searched for another major. I had recently begun writing songs, and there was a major that sounded perfect for me: Media Music. The only problem was it would take me four years to graduate.

Wrong again. It took me six years. I struggled to complete assignments, and at least once a day, I said aloud, “What was I thinking?!” In the meantime, two of our sons graduated and moved on, and our daughter enrolled as a freshman. I often felt like I was just watching life through a window, not actually living it, and everyone seemed to be progressing but me. More than once, I told John I was quitting, but he encouraged me to hang in there. I was thankful for his support, and for reasonable professors and helpful students. And for Gary.

Gary had a full-time job, so it took him six years to finish, as well. When we discovered that we could graduate together in the spring of 2009, I had another reason to plow ahead.

Along with his own studies, Gary patiently listened to every version of every song, jingle, composition and film score piece I wrote. He has incredible taste in music, and he was my best critic. While most other people had the same reaction to everything (“I like it!”), Gary had the courage to tell me when it wasn’t good. Sometimes he even said, “I don’t like that at all.” Every once in a while, I played something for him for the first time, and he loved it. Then I knew I had something.

Finally, the big day came—April 24, 2009—and I underestimated once again. Only this time, I underestimated how great it would be. There was Gary, looking like a million bucks in his slightly wrinkled gown and his awkward hat, with his arm around me, introducing me to everyone he knew. “This is my mom,” and he seemed to be as proud of me as I was of him.

We took that long walk together, from the administration building, across the sky bridge, to the arena. We waited in the hallway until it was our turn. The announcer had been combining relatives all day (brother and sister, husband and wife), but when he saw our cards, he smiled and whispered, “Cool!” He announced, “Gary Edwards, graduating in biology, and his mother, Shawna Belt Edwards, graduating in music.” There was a long, loud applause from the audience while we posed for pictures, and as we walked off the stage, Gary asked, “Were they cheering for us?” I said it was because I was finally graduating and they were glad to get rid of me.

As the school year approaches, I feel a little nostalgic. I miss going to class, meeting new friends, and drinking in that wonderful back-to-school air. But more than that, I miss Gary, who has gone across the country to medical school. I miss how he makes me laugh at the stupidest things, rearranges my furniture and then puts it back again when I change my mind, plays Hoopla with me until 2 AM, does the dishes, watches American Idol with me, and carries my luggage on every trip. And of course, I miss his critique of my latest song.

Everybody takes a different path through life. Mine has been a little unusal, but I wouldn’t go back and do it differently. I wouldn’t choose to graduate when I was 22 or try to finish faster, or get my degree in something easier, because then I would have missed out on graduating with Gary – an experience that I will cherish forever.

The post Mormon Motherhood Moments: “Graduating with Gary” 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….

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~By Laurel

Surrounded by cardboard boxes turned time capsules, I shifted through the newspaper clippings, pictures, and journals that made up my life so far. I lifted from one of these boxes a green leather journal that held my thoughts from my teenage years; and as I did so, an envelope fell to the floor. It was my life list. When I was 14 years old, my young women instructor handed out slips of paper one Sunday and instructed us girls to list the things we wanted to attain by age 24—a life list. I wrote out my list effortlessly and quickly; I knew what I wanted. I had always known. My list read:

1. Go to college and get a degree.
2. Be married.
3. Have 5 kids.
4. Fly on an airplane for the first time.

We sealed our lists in envelopes, not to be opened for 10 years, and scrawled across their fronts, “Do not open until 1994.” Now, here I was breaking the seal unceremoniously and staring at my life list again more than 10 years later. More than 20 years later. When I wrote that list each item seemed so simple to attain, and I assumed that each of them would come to me effortlessly and exactly when I wanted them to—certainly before I was 24 years old.

Nine years after drafting my life list, my life was loosely following my plan. At age 23 I graduated from college and checked off item 1 from my list. I had my Bachelors degree in one hand, but I did not have my husband in the other. I entered a phase of life that I had never counted on, never even considered. Single life. Corporate life. I began work at a mid-size corporation and met with clients around the country. I quickly crossed off item 4 from my list, but two items still languished on my list. I was on a life detour. This wasn’t the plan I drafted for myself in my young women class. I constantly looked over my shoulder at that life list and at the person I thought I should be.

For the next 10 years I spent my days in a corporate cubicle meeting deadlines and furiously doing my work. In the evening, I luxuriously flopped on my couch in my condominium and ate a cold cereal dinner. At the end of my day I smiled and sprawled in my queen-sized bed. Travel perks. Disposable income. A killer corporate wardrobe. Who could ask for a better unsolicited life? But in its corners and edges, the guilt creeped in of not living up to that life list. Of not becoming the person that 14-year-old girl expected me to be.

I was 33 years old on my wedding day—not the 24 years old I had imagined. My wedding day marked a distinct line in the sand—it marked where my unsolicited life could step off and my planned-for life could step in. But it wasn’t that simple. I had gotten used to my unsolicited life and its self-indulgent ways and wasn’t sure about letting it go. Those feelings surprised me, which caused me more unexpected guilt.

Married life moved fast, and by my fourth wedding anniversary I was the mother of two children. One summer afternoon I pointed my double stroller filled with my 2-year-old son and infant baby daughter toward a nearby walking trail. The trail was popular among the stroller-pushing mom set and with lunch- hour-walking corporate women alike. With my casual clothes and hair pulled into a ponytail, we all knew that I wasn’t a corporate woman. Each time I passed a corporate walker, my guilt told me I was supposed to be out in the corporate world doing something with my degree and making my way. I wanted to appease my guilt and scream at these walkers, “No, you don’t know! I have a degree! I had a career! I had a frequent flyer card! Four years ago I was YOU! I could still be you if I wanted to.” But it’s no use…the stroller and Baby Bjorn are not the corporate uniform. Guilt. So much conflicted guilt. I resented that I felt this way—why did I feel guilt for living the life that I had originally planned for back in that young women class so long ago?

Months passed. An offer to take on a freelance writing job presented itself, and I temporarily delved back into my unsolicited life—my former identity of efficient conversations and conference calls. For weeks I stole time from my usual mothering duties and feverishly worked toward my deadline. On deadline day, I used every last minute and found myself backed up against the last FedEx pickup of the day. In my hurried frenzy to make the pickup time, I left my two kids with my husband and rushed out the door.

As I walked briskly from my car to FedEx’s front door, I realized that this felt familiar. So many times in my corporate life I had sprinted to FedEx to make a deadline. This felt like Corporate Me to be doing this thing… walking fast clutching 300 loose pages stuffed into a FedEx envelop. I looked down and noticed that I was even wearing a jacket I wore back in my corporate days. I thought to myself, “No one looking at me knows I’m a mom. I don’t have a stroller or a Baby Bjorn, and I’m not walking slowly so short, 2- year-old legs can keep up. I look like a regular corporate woman.” I thought I’d play it out. I’d pretend to be the old me for a minute. I walked assertively into FedEx and started the familiar process of sending something Priority Overnight—such a corporate woman thing to do. I put my purse-not-a-diaper-bag on the counter. There, staring back at me was the diaper and wipes I’d shoved in there the day before. My cover was blown. Busted. Betrayed by diaper wipes.

At that moment I stopped and smiled. I dropped my corporate act and felt the conflicted guilt I had carried with me since I abandoned my corporate life suddenly melt away. I was happy to see those diaper wipes, and I was glad they resided in my purse. They reminded me of the two little people waiting for me at home. I am someone’s mom. For me, that is so much more important than proving anything to Corporate America.

I smiled as I looked at that life list, now 26 years later. The shear act of crafting it all those years ago didn’t guarantee me a husband by age 23 and 5 kids by age 40 as I had planned. How well-meaning that life list was. How wise my young women adviser was to suggest that her girls have expectations for themselves and live a purposeful, planned life. But what she failed to mention was that sometimes life doesn’t go as planned. How I wish I could go back—not to change the list, but to change how I reacted to it. How I wish I had had the maturity and wisdom to throw away the guilt when I found myself on a detour and instead embrace the happy and wonderful aspects of any unsolicited phase of life in which I found myself. How I wish I had stopped looking back at the life list, or stopped looking back at my corporate life, and just enjoyed the ride.

“Life is like an old-time rail journey—delays, sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling bursts of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the ride.” (-Jenkin Lloyd Jones, as quoted by President Gordon B. Hinckley)

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