Powerful, Purposeful, Nurturing Motherhood

That is my mission.

Several weeks ago God told me my mission was motherhood.  I have been mulling this over, reworking my goals and priorities accordingly, and trying to understand it. The past couple weeks I have been asking for more clarity, for more specific insight into the direction of motherhood God wants me to take.  Tonight as I lay in bed the words came clear and strong:

Powerful, Purposeful, Nurturing Motherhood

I was grateful for the clear revelation, and excited to go to sleep, but the Spirit would not let me. When God speaks to me, I must treasure His words, and for me that means writing them down.

Powerful means that I am firm, vocal, unbending in choosing, defending and teaching that which is good, right, and true.  I refuse, speak against, and fight against - as occasion affords - anything which is bad, wrong, or false.

Purposeful means that I carefully choose the direction I take my family.  I think through the consequences and long term effects of what and how I teach, talk to, interact with and bless my children.  I don't do things because they are normal, easy, or convenient.  Nor do I do them because they are different, hard, or challenging.  I choose how to parent, how to live, how to work, how to teach, how to love, how to play because of guidance from God, and the real long-term outcomes.

Nurturing means that I desire, and work for the growth of my children.  I have charity, gentleness, and meekness as a mother.  I desire their spiritual growth most of all.  I want them to have faith in Jesus Christ, to understand His atonement, and follow His plan of happiness.  I also desire their physical, mental, and emotional growth.  

I am a mother who knows I am nothing.

Last night I said I am divine.  I am.  But I am also mortal, weak, one of billions of others.  I make mistakes.  I have 37 years of experiences and information that have gone into my brain as memory, and not all of it is beautiful, true, or good.  I have habits- oh, do I have habits, some of which I am not fond of.

Just as I am a Child of God, I am also of the dust of the earth.  Alone, left to my own devices and powers, I am nothing.

A woman I highly respect, after reading and counseling me on a personal vision statement that I had spent two months in writing, and rewriting, and revising, and editing, recommended one book to me.  Confronting the Myth of Self-Esteem.  It's message is that all the hype about needing to have a boosted self-esteem and see ourselves as great, sets us up for disappointment.  Just like having a mortal super hero - a ball player, or movie star - is a let down when you find out they made some serious mistakes.  So it is with having ourself as a hero. We  inevitably let ourselves down, because we make mistakes - that is why we are on earth - to learn.  Learning is not about a perfect performance.  That is the end goal, but the learning phase is about  practice, and practice always involves hiccups, mistakes, slower that perfect timing, errors, stretching, growing, difficulty, opposition, a struggle.  So placing our hopes, and faith and trust in ourselves is just as erroneous as placing our trust in any other arm of flesh.  We will be dissappointed.

Deep down we know we are suseptible to failure.  We know we are not perfect.  We know we are not as completely good as the outside world sees.  We always put our best self out - but there is in all of us a weaker self too.  In our hearts we know that, so working too hard at building self-esteem just leaves us puffed up on air.

In the end it is God that we can glory in.  He is perfect.  He is all knowing, all powerful.  He has perfect love, justice, and mercy.  When I have good thoughts, it is inspired of God.  When I do good, it is by his grace.  When I do wrong, it is through His atonement that I am made clean and able to start again.

I am nothing but Jesus Christ in whom I trust, whose side I am on, is Everything.

I am a mother who knows Christ will not leave us comfortless.

Today is Addy Day.  It is the day she returned to our Father in Heaven 13 years ago.   Here is some of what I wrote at the time.


Addy came to our home as a gift from our loving Father in Heaven.  She came to gain a body, and complete a short but important mission in this life.  Our family is greatly blessed to have had her. When I first realized that Addy had died I was scared, hurt, confused.  But very quickly my Father in Heaven blessed me with a sweet peace, and the knowledge that Addy's life on earth was complete, that he had called her home to do his work on the others side of the veil.  I know that Addy is with her Savior, and is happy.  I feel that she misses us with the same sweetness that we miss her, but her spirit will always be near to our family, And Kate will have a sister on the other side watching out for her, as a guardian angel

Addy was beaming, Kate, not so much

My Heavenly Father knew how quickly my heart would break when Addy left us.  he did all he could to prepare things to ease my pain.  The week before she died we had our first ever family picture taken..  Addy beamed for the camera.  The last day that I had my sweet Addy was the day before we had planned to go home for Christmas.  I wanted to have pictures to take to Grandmas and decided to use up the last of my film in the camera to try and get a current picture of Addy, and of Kate and Addy together.  I took pictures of my sweet , happy girls and took them to be developed.  The roll came back with some wonderful pictures.  We had bought a couple of special stories to give our girls for Christmas.  That day, because everything was going smoothly, I took time to write a letter to Addy inside the front cover of her book.

I put two happy girls to bed that night, and finished wrapping a few last gifts and put the last of our clothes in suitcases to go hoe.  I finished at 11 and just then Addy started to wake up.  This was not usual for her. and if I had followed our "rules" I would have let her cry it out to keep her sleeping through the night, but instead, because I was still awake, I got her up.  She was happy and seemed playful so we sat on the floor in front of the Christmas tree, and played.  She crawled across the floor to me a few times and gazed at the Christmas lights.  She sat on my lap, and played with my hand, patting it, and waving her hands.  Then I went and nursed her.

 After eating well she still was not sleepy, so I took her in her room and rocked her and sang to her all my favorite carols. I started with Silent Night, then God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, O Holy Night, Away in a Manger, We Three Kings, many others I don't recall.  I ended with Hush Thee My Baby, and one more time of Silent Night.  She snuggled in my arms and after a while, settled down.  I laid her in her crib, covered her up, and kissed her goodnight.  This sweet little baby knew she was leaving and said her good-byes to ease her mother's pain.  I did not know it was good-bye then, but I am so grateful for such a sweet last memory.


Years later I can say that I still miss my little girl.  I know she watches over our family, I feel her near when I am at the temple.  She is a tangible anchor that keeps me striving to return to Heaven myself.

Most of all I can say that God knew what I needed to experience in order to make me really change and learn and grow.  He gave me the sweet and bitter experience then, to prepare me for other experiences later on, and so that I can have empathy for others.

Each time I turn to God for comfort, with real faith, and purpose of heart, He does give me solace. He lets me choose to turn to Him for peace or to try and fight through on my own.  I have tried both options at different times.  I can definitively say I prefer the peace and comfort that He offers to the pain and loneliness and despair that I find on my own.  He has shown me his working in my life, in the little details, like a picture taken on certain day, and in the big over-arching direction of my life.  I have felt His presence, I know He is there.  He has not left me comfortless.

I am a mother who knows peace.

Merry Christmas 2014!

Twas the night before New Years and all through our house,
There was peace and rejoicing, for me and my spouse.

The children were tucked all snug in their beds,
While visions of happiness danced in their heads.

I had thought through this past year and saw good and bad,
Some hard times of sadness, and the miracles we had.

Our measures of progress were scarce to appear,
Our lives looked the same to those we call dear.

But if you could open and see in our hearts
They now are fast made with much stronger parts.

We learned from our garden that God has a plan.
His cycles teach patience to impatient man.

Bright Kate found her dream to teach others truth
through music and stage about Esther (and Ruth?)

Good Cassidy has served her family in love.
Our expectations she exceeds beyond and above.

Boy Wyatt has grown to love working with Dad.
Also reading, eating, and flying are times to be had.

Joy! Mille has taught us to always keep trying,
Though sometimes life's hard and we find ourselves crying.

Estella Jane's walking and smiles remind
that her health is a miracle from a Father, kind.

At Crossfit we're given the chance to grow muscle
that helps us at home and when life is a bustle.

But greatest blessing this year that I can recall
Is Christ's Atonement to lift us each time we fall.

Jesus came into our home through scripture and prayer
Our lives are changed for we felt him there.

May this new year for you bring a blessing so sweet.
Although the joy comes after tears at His feet.

Home-grown watermelon.  Can't we eat it already?

Home crafted costume of Glinda the good witch

Getting violins for first lessons.

Saying Goodbye to Raksaka

 

Airplane ride for 9th Birthday.

  

Hot date to see the lights.

 

I am a mother who knows what gift to give.

It is one gift that everyone needs:  my husband, my in-laws, my children, my friends, my great aunt, and my neighbors.  Even those who don't want it, and leave it on the front porch or trample over it, need it, they just don't know it.  It is beautifully simple, yet too magnificent for me to fully comprehend.  It is unique for each person who receives it.  It tastes sweeter than anything else I have ever tasted.  It is solid as stone, solid enough to build a house on!  It never runs out, the more I use it, the more there is available to me.  Someone else has already paid for it, so it is not really mine to give, but I can share it!

It is the gift of Jesus Christ!  His gospel.  His Love.  His Life.  His Atonement.

#Sharethegift

I am a mother who knows who to trust.

 I trust in my Father in Heaven.  He is all powerful, all knowing, unchanging, and has a perfect love. His mission is to bring me (and you) to eternal life with Him - which is happiness.  Parts of this mortal journey towards God are very difficult and even painful.  The most rewarding and joyful times come after I make it through the hard ones.  The most peaceful times are when I walk through the hard times with the Lord.  

I am learning and working on, this principle of trusting in God and not in the arm of flesh.  When I live with good people, and love them, it is easy to trust too much in them.  But there is no mortal who has the understanding of my heart, my potential, and my struggles like God does.  No matter how well a parent, spouse, friend, or mentor knows me, they will not see my divine and individual worth as clearly as God does.  They can love me, but not as God does.  God commands us to help each other on our way.  He often does help me through the hands, words, and actions of others, but only by knowing that I am trusting God, can I know who else to trust.  I have to go to him first with each question, idea, problem and desire.  When I have turned my heart to Him, and keep it open to Him, through the day, I am given the answers and help that help me grow, often through the blessings of other people in my life.

I have taken poor counsel from others at times in the past.  When I realized the counsel did not serve me well, I was angry.  Under the anger was hurt.  I have reacted to or been pulled along by the plans and ideas of others, rather than purposefully acting in accordance with my own heart, and what I know God wants me to do.  I am learning that God will answer me, in all things, if I ask with real intent.

So today I choose to get smarter.  I choose to act in accordance with God's will for me.  I choose to be true to myself.  I put my trust in God.  I trust God to tell me when and who else to trust. 

I am a mother who knows what I celebrate. Part 4

I celebrate Jesus Christ.  

This year for Christmas, I want our family's celebrations to teach of Christ.  Here is my vision.

The day after Thanksgiving, my children were excited to decorate for Christmas.  So we pulled up our two totes of decorations.  As we carefully consider what to put out we discuss how it reminds of Christ.  
Most of our decorations are nativities.  One for each room.  A couple that the young children can play with.  We put away the regular toy basket to make a place for the Christ Child.  Janey, 1 year, has loved wrapping up our baby boy doll and putting him in the manger.  "Jesus" is one of about 5 words in her vocabulary.
Lights on the front porch symbolize that Christ is the light of the world.

We hung stockings on the mantle, sharing the story of Saint Nicolas throwing money through the window of a poor family, and it landing in a stocking. His desire to serve and live like Jesus is worth emulating.  We also talked about the Secret Santa that our ward does for needy families and how it is a chance for us to do what St. Nicolas did.
All the lights on our fake tree were dying last year, so we got rid of it.  We have never had a real tree before, but this year we made a switch.  We actually, opted for a living Christmas tree, that we will plant in the spring.  This fit well into our new found love of growing things.  The evergreen tree symbolizes everlasting life, given to us by our Savior.  
We decorated the tree with strung popcorn, we had just read about that in Man of the Family by Ralph Moody, and our children wanted to try it.  The white represents Christ's purity, and that we can be made clean through baptism and repentance.
We have a star on top to represent the new star that signified Christ's birth.
There is a red cloth draped under the tree, to signify the blood of Christ, that he shed in our behalf.

We sing and listen to Christmas carols in honor of the choir of heavenly hosts who announced Christ's birth to the shepherds.
Our read aloud stories this month are about Christmas.  We just finished A Christmas Carol, and I found much of Christ in it, and laughed at my own narrow-mindedness of the past.

We are teaching our children that Santa Clause, and all the wonderful stories and traditions that have evolved around him, come from those who want to live like the Savior and "sell all that thou hast, and distribute unto the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven: and come, follow me."  Luke 22:18.  In this light we are not asking for gifts, (i.e. lists for Santa) but focusing on what we can give.  If Santa visits, it is because there are good people in the world trying to live as Christ did.  We hope each of our children will become excited about doing the same.  

Our Christmas is simple this year.  I am choosing not to go to all the parties, not to spend much time at stores or pouring over catalogs and searching online.  I am thinking more of homemade gifts and service, or gifts that remind of  Jesus Christ: His gospel, His way of living, how we can become like Him, how we can prepare for Him to come again.

I really do want to celebrate the birth, life, mission, atonement and Resurrection of Jesus Christ.  I  want to talk of Christ, rejoice in Christ, and write of Christ that my children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins, for healing from pain, for strength beyond their own, for guidance and truth, for happiness and hope.

I am a mother who knows what I celebrate. Part 2

... Two Years Later.
In April I gave birth to a second perfect little girl. We named her Addy.  She was a happy baby that slept through the night from only a couple months old.  She reached every milestone- smiling, reaching for toys, sitting up, right on target. By mid-December she was learning to crawl.
The night of December 20, Jonathan was on travel, and I was getting us ready for a trip to Utah for Christmas.  Jonathan would be home in the afternoon and we would start driving.  I had the girls bathed, and in bed.  Suitcases packed and the house clean. The presents were all wrapped and carefully hidden in a large suitcase.  Just as I turned out all the lights - except the Christmas lights -and was going to head to bed, Addy woke up.  I picked her up, and she seemed wide awake, playful.  I was in an excited mood, and so I took her out by the tree and we played on the floor. She crawled back and forth to me.  After a while, I decided I should try to get her back to sleep, so I nursed her.  She was still awake, so I sang to her, nearly every Christmas carol I knew, by then she was still awake, but calm, so I laid her in her bed, and went to mine.  

The next morning 2 year old Kate woke me up.  I fed her breakfast and then went quietly into the girls room to get her clothes.  As I peeked in the crib, I was  --- there are no words for what I was --- my baby was dead.  Even now my body goes numb, and my mind blank, as I try to remember that moment.  

My life was eternally altered.  I was carried by the Lord through the next hours, days, weeks and months.  Eventually, the Lord set me gently back on my own two feet, and I had to really confront all of my emotions, thoughts, fears, and hopes.  I had to know what I really believed, about heaven and eternal families, yes.  But I had to know the details, what was my Addy doing as a Spirit.  What would it be like when I met her again? Would she be grown or back to her infant body? Had she died because of something I had done or was it really God's will and timing?    I began a quest for knowledge.  For Truth.  When my yearning eased, the pain of missing my baby came back - a physical aching in my arms to hold her, and in my chest - my heart.  I learned that to ease the pain I had to return to my quest for understanding.   

Through study, prayer, and personal revelation and more study my questions were answered.  I learned that I had to accept God's will.  Trust that his plan was for my happiness.  I had to forgive myself and God.  I had to get to the place where like our Savior, I could say, "Not my will, but Thine be done."  I cycled in and out of faith and hope, and despair and depression.  But always, a tiny thread at a time, my testimony was growing, and God was teaching me.

Once I learned, and really knew in my heart, that my child was in heaven, and I could have her back so long as I qualified for heaven, my quest changed.  How was I going to be sure and make it to Heaven?  I have so many weaknesses.  Make so many mistakes.  Like Nephi my spirit rejoices, but my flesh is weak.  Why do I wallow in depression when I know the truth of the Gospel?

I had to purge out all iniquity from myself and my home - that was the only way I could get my daughter back, or rather, qualify to go where she is someday.

Along my quest, I began to look at Traditions.  I found that I did have some false traditions.  Some traditions that were not serving to bring me to Christ.  I want everything to bring me to Christ.  As a mortal, I need all the help I can get.    How could I change tradition?  Its very nature and definition mean it is part of our culture, ingrained in us.  I had some more painful learning experiences ahead.

To be continued...

I am a mother who knows what I celebrate. Part 1

I celebrate the birth, life, mission, atonement and Resurrection of Jesus Christ.  I talk of Christ, rejoice in Christ, and write of Christ that my children may know to what source they may look for a remission of their sins, for healing from pain, for strength beyond their own, for guidance and truth, for happiness and hope.

Several years ago, I started down a road of questioning all of my traditions.  There are many verses throughout the Book of Mormon that talk about the "false traditions of our fathers."  I wondered if I had any false traditions from my childhood, that I was passing on to my children.  I started looking at holidays and the traditions around those holidays.

What I learned took me on a journey and changed how I celebrate Christmas.


My mother made Christmas truly magical.  There were 10 children in our family, so our house was always bustling, and there were always children young enough to get into the magic.  It took 3 full days of hard work to clean the house and put up the decorations, right after Thanksgiving. All the regular wall decor,  and knicknacks were wrapped up into boxes and in there place we put snowmen, Santa Clauses, elves, reindeer, holly boughs, tinsel, ginger bread houses, mistletoe and of course a nativity.  The pink and blue hand towels were replaced with red and green.  There were Christmas lights, in some form or another in every room of the house.  A beautiful, real Christmas tree upstairs, and a fun one the children could decorate downstairs.   Most of December you could hear Mannheim Steamroller and Johnny Mathis' Christmas Album playing, you could smell the sweet spicyness of wasail in the crockpot, ready when you got home from school, or came in from the cold.   And I'm sure there was always a foot of snow ;-)

Every night we would read a different Christmas story.  The first one was The Last Straw.  It was just on plain typed paper, long before the beautiful picture book was published.  Then we would draw names for Pixies.  That was who we got to secretly serve that week.  And each week before Christmas we drew a new name.  I loved this tradition and always liked to make a big deal of doing something for my person every day.  I also would anxiously look on my bed for love notes, and treats from my pixie.  I remember one year there was a week when my pixie didn't come - the first day, nor the second, nor the third.  I was getting very disappointed. Being young, I think I let that disappointment show to my siblings, in hope that my pixie would get on the ball, I also tried all the harder to be an excellent pixie myself, doing a chore and leaving a love note.  Maybe an after school treat, too. 
Finally, on Friday I came home, with the faintest hope.  Before going inside to look though, I went out to the woodshed to check on a new batch of kittens, - our cats always belonged to me, and I loved to play with new kittens.  As I looked in the shed, the first thing I saw was a streak of red on one of the little white and grey fluffballs.  My first thought was "Oh no, somehow she has been hurt."  But as I lifted her out of the shed, I saw that it was a red ribbon tied around her neck. Attached was a piece of paper with "2. Look where you wash clothes."  It was in my oldest, teenage brother's handwriting. (We almost always figured out who our pixie was, but we never let on.)   This was a piece to a treasure hunt.  That was always considered the ultimate gift a pixie could do. It extended the surprise to the maximum.  I was ecstatic, as I ran into the laundry room and searched for the next clue.  I went around gathering the clues one by one, all around the house, until I was led to the microwave where a cup of hot chocolate and some cookies were waiting for me.  I enjoyed it, although I felt bad for having complained about a slacker pixie.  Really I had the best one!  And after I ate my treat, I had the fun of looking for the first clue.  The fun lasted even longer.

I remember writing Santa letters and giving them to Mom.  One year, I got to wondering, though. I remember writing a different letter to Santa, putting it in an envelope and mailing it off.  However, I never was sure if I had the right address, and therefore, I always believed my test had not really been valid.  Just because I got what I had put on the list I handed to Mom, didn't mean Santa wasn't real.  It just meant she had the right way of getting it to Santa, and I didn't.  I have often been told I am a little too trusting!  

I remember Christmas Eve driving home from our cousins house, and watching the sky, hoping I might see Santa's sleigh.  I had a very real belief.  I remember my Grandma Wood telling me a story of seeing Santa one Christmas Eve night when she was a little girl.

My mom had a little bendable rubber elf.  He moved around our house to random places on a shelf, or end table, or the bathroom counter.  He was Santa's special messenger.  He was always watching to see "who was naughty or nice."  My mom was way ahead of the now popular "Elf on the Shelf"  My mother could have written the book on how to make Christmas magical.

Now jump ahead several years to my first Christmas with my husband.  You will probably laugh at this.  But I actually, was very sad and disappointed that I had to acknowledge that Santa wasn't real, and the only presents I would get from him would have to be put under the tree myself. I believe they call this the disease of Entitlement, that my spoiled generation is so prone to.  I had been taught well enough to not act on those emotions of selfishness, but I cannot deny that I grappled with them.

The next year, I had a baby.  Oh excitement!  I could start trying to be the amazing mother, I had been shown.  I delved into the world of making Christmas magical.  We were on a college student budget mind you, and I had a husband wise enough to have taught me about interest - that we want to earn it, and not pay it, and therefore we must not spend that which we did not have.  So I had to be creative and resourceful, but Christmas would be celebrated and magical nonetheless.

Then, two years later, my life changed forever.  Something happened that made me start to question everything in my life.  I had to know what was real, what was truth.  I had to start living more completely according to that truth.

Continued tomorrow...

I am a mother who knows

My blog theme comes from a Book of Mormon story:

There were a group of people who had been wicked and "bloodthirsty."  They were converted to the gospel of Jesus Christ, and took an oath to never use weapons of war again.  As a symbol of their covenant they dug a huge pit and buried all of their weapons.  Many years later these people were living in the protection of other believers in Christ.  Enemies were coming against them and they were supporting the war efforts by providing food for those who were fighting, people who did not have the same history and had not taken such an oath.  But they felt terribly the burden they were to those who were fighting in their defense.  It was then noted that their young sons had not taken the oath, and could go to war in defense of their families and freedom.  They were put in the charge of Helaman, and he called them his sons.  They fought in several battles and though all recieved injuries, not one was killed.  Here are some of Helaman's words describing them:

"Now they never had fought, yet they did not fear death; and they did think more upon the liberty of their fathers than they did upon their lives; yea, they had been taught by their mothers, that if they did not doubt, God would deliver them.  And they rehearsed unto me the words of their mothers, saying: We do not doubt our mothers knew it." Alma 56:47-48

I love their mother's faith.  I love the hope that is shown by a people who had once been guilty of serious sin, but through repentance they had full faith and hope of the Lord blessing them. Sometimes I think that because of our bad choices, or negative past,  the consequence is that our children will inevitably have to suffer because of our weakness or sin.  Yes, their sons did have to go to war, and did receive battle wounds, but the Lord also had miracles in store that would strengthen their faith and prove his mercy to them because they had repented.  Therefore, I can have hope that as we strive to come unto Christ, our children will also be strengthened and the Lord will provide them with the experiences they need, to overcome whatever negative baggage they have picked up from us.

As a mother, I know that God will answer our prayers, if we do not doubt. 

I am a mother who knows what I want for Christmas. And it is a long list.

I want to be filled with the pure love of Christ - I want the gift of Charity.    

You see, for the past sixteen and a half years, I have fought off and on a terrible, dark, and ugly battle. Sometimes I have called it anger.  Sometimes I have called it depression.  I recently learned a new name for it: co-dependency.  Regardless of semantics, I would tumble down a chasm to a place without love - for myself, or others.  At the bottom of that chasm there is no hope, sometimes it is difficult to feel faith or remember any truth at all.  It was impossible to see anything positive.  I could pray, read, try to do thought changes, or look for blessings and only see failures, negatives, feel cold and dark.  It was hell.  If you have been there, you know.  If you haven't it probably makes no sense.

Here is the long list:

And charity:

suffereth long

is kind 

envieth not 

is not puffed up 

seeketh not her own

is not easily provoked

thinketh no evil

rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth

beareth all things

believeth all things

hopeth all things

endureth all things

Can I ask God to give me all of these gifts?  I know they are the answer to not going down into that chasm.  It is ironic, that for so many years I thought the chasm was of my own digging.  Somehow, something I was doing, or not doing, put me, without realizing it in a place where I would go heading down to the bottom, digging it deeper each time.  But I have learned that I didn't dig that pit.  Satan did.  And he laughs, so loud I can hear him, when I am at the bottom of it.  I have also learned that he doesn't wait to be invited before he pushes us toward the cliff.  He is constantly nudging us and those we love, often so subtly (he is the most subtle of all the beasts of the field) we don't feel or see it - like a silk thread slipping around you, one strand at a time.  Each strand is a glance in the mirror as I walk by and not liking what I see, or a thought of I'm too tired to wash those dishes, or why didn't he take care of that?  I have also learned that sometimes I get yanked into the chasm by someone I love when they go sliding down, because I am holding on to tightly to them.  That is co-dependency.

So how will my long Christmas list help change this awful pattern of misery?  

First, let me say that I have practiced, or at least thought about and studied, each of them with much purpose at times.  When I am not in the bottom of that chasm I am working on several of them at any given time.  Climbing out of the chasm requires believing and hoping for all things.  I have read books on, sought mentoring on and written and practiced diligently on the "not easily provoked and thinketh no evil."  Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth is probably my strongest on that list - I would say it is a gift I was given at a very young age.  Being at the bottom of the chasm has felt like suffering and enduring.  I am not asking for a gift I know nothing about.

Charity and all its parts will help me change this pattern by tying me to the Savior, Jesus Christ.  If I am firmly yoked to Him, then I will not be pulled by Satan, or even those I love. "His yoke is easy and His burden is light," because when I am yoked to the Savior I am tasting, and feeling of his pure love - Charity, and it is sweet.   

The following passage gives me hope that I can be given this gift for Christmas.  I am praying to my Father in Heaven, "who giveth to all men liberrally."  

Moroni 7: 45 - 48 "And charity suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.  Wherefore, my beloved brethren, if ye have not charity, ye are nothing, for charity never faileth. Wherefore, cleave unto charity, which is the greatest of all, for all things must fail—  But charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever; and whoso is found possessed of it at the last day, it shall be well with him. Wherefore, my beloved brethren, pray unto the Father with all the energy of heart, that ye may be filled with this love, which he hath bestowed upon all who are true followers of his Son, Jesus Christ;

President Uctdorf's message this month says this:

"Jesus the Christ, who knew perfectly how to give, set for us the pattern for giving. To those whose hearts are heavy with loneliness and sorrow, He brings compassion and comfort. To those whose bodies and minds are afflicted with illness and suffering, He brings love and healing. To those whose souls are burdened with sin, He offers hope, forgiveness, and redemption."

I have recieved each of these gifts from my Savior.  I am asking for Charity for Christmas, so that I can follow His example, and share with others what He has given me.

I am a mother who knows where I am going.

I just finished reading The Last Battle, the last book in the Narnia series to my children.  We all cried with joy at the end,as we read of how sweet it will be when we at last make it through this life.  It is so insightful to the plan of salvation.  The mercy of the our Savior, Jesus Christ.  I am so imperfect, no better than a dog, as the Calormene put it.  I continue to make mistakes, so often the same ones, but just as Christ has commanded us to forgive seventy times seven, so He forgives me each time I turn back to Him, and try again to do right.  I have felt a great peace, and strengthening from Him over the past few weeks, as I have tried with a renewed diligence to put Him first in my life.  That means I seek His approval, not the approval of my fellow mortals.

It means I follow Him, even when those around won't.  In Narnia, at one point Lucy sees Aslan beckoning to her and knows he wants her to follow him, but the others she is with don't see Him, and won't go that direction, so she stays with her group and go another way.  They end up in trouble and lost and have to redo the distance back.  Aslan again appears to Lucy.  He asks her why she didn't follow Him.  She said the others wouldn't go.  Aslan again asks, "Why didn't you follow me?"  That part has stuck firmly in my mind.

My other favorite piece I learned is that everything is "soon" in Aslan's time.  Just as the Lord told Joseph Smith "Thy troubles shall be but a small moment"  Keeping things in this eternal perspective makes the tough spots much easier to endure.  It is like when my lungs are burning and muscles don't want to go any more at Crossfit.  I tell myself: "This is only a 6 minute WOD.  You can do anything for 6 minutes!"