Last August I started my monthly injections. I started them one at a time because I was still recovering from radiation which was really hard on my body. Not just my body but my heart and mind, as well. I had a pretty rough reaction each time I had an injection. On one of those evenings I was laying on the sofa in increasing physical pain and fatigue. I had cleaned the living area in our home which is very small and would normally take me 45 minutes max. It took me two hours and I spent the rest of the afternoon sleeping. The emotions were on the back burner. I was just trying to be okay and have the first week of school be as close to normal as possible. I had a senior and a sophomore (first year of high school). It already wasn't. I had been texting a couple good friends who were trying to make plans for a girls trip with our girls. In that moment it didn't feel like I would feel good enough to go. We were thinking about a year in advance as the event we had wanted to go to that fall was cancelled. I had no idea what to say. I had cancer spreading at an alarming rate through my body. And thinking about a year down the road was more than my heart could take. The only solution I could come up with is that if we committed and if I wasn't feeling good, or heaven forbid - not here, that they would take my girls with them still. As I sent that text the emotions overwhelmed me and I got up to start dinner. Haha. Because life goes on and someone has to make dinner. Before I finished washing my hands my little sister texted and asked if I was okay. Normally I can find a way to be okay or make a joke and I feel better. It literally feels better just to have someone ask. But in that moment all I could say was "I'm not okay." She called immediately and I sat in the garage and ugly cried to her on the phone. She cried with me. I was so grateful she followed that prompting to reach out. She didn't know why. Neither did I, really. Until she called. But my Heavenly Father did. Before I did. The next day her husband sent me a thoughtful text and this video. Anyone who knows Jimmy Johnson knows how emotional he is, haha. I watched that video and cried. It was exactly what I needed. And it has continued to inspire me many days since then... It's worth the ten minutes and has lifted my spirits and reminded me of my personal power when it feels like I have lost and am losing so much. Tomorrow morning I will have my routine PET scan. I haven't had one since the miraculous one in January. And Saturday marks one year to they day that I was diagnosed with Stage VI breast cancer. Another story for another day. But today... I will laugh, I will definitely think (overthink because I'm an over achiever, haha), and I will find something to move me to tears... It will be a "heck of a day." Let's live, my friends. Not just live, but live well. Like Sid the sloth, "I choose life." Haha. I hope that each of you have a "heck of a day" as well. Love and light to you all. 🙏❤️ https://youtu.be/SHKzH6zR8xE I'm a bit slow with updating. After updating my sister she asked if I was "at peace" or just "numb" because I wasn't really emotional at all about it. I was grateful to her for putting my text description of everything into simpler form. And the truth was, I was both. And that is okay. So the PET scan itself went great. I didn't have a ton of anxiety like I usually do but that might also be because I had a brunch scheduled with Sandi afterward, haha. (But really... The BrunchHouse in Provo is fabulous!) There is always the worry as I walk out after all is said and done when I am no longer worried or focused on the prep and getting there on time. With each test the process is a little different... MRI's, CT's, bone scans, PET scans and biopsies, etc. Sometimes I panic that I'll forget which one I'm doing and forget something. For the PET scan it's fasting for six hours, but do drink water, dress warm, no exercise for 24 hours prior, low carb and high protein diet the day before, no meds unless your diabetic in which case you take them the night before and if you have anxiety/claustrophobia then you can request valium from your doctor but can't drive afterward. I do have a little but mostly try to take a nap and that after so many I'm getting good at deep breathing and zoning out, haha. the radiotracer that is injected and as much as I really don't mind blood draws or IV's now and then, having only one arm that can be used and two reliable veins that aren't very visible that have been used and abused really has now created more anxiety. Some sticks are great and others dig and after some very painful experiences and even some where I have passed out and getting poked so often I find myself going to my "safe place" more often than not. I used to be more willing for new medical staff or students to practice on me but anymore I just want it done with as little pain as possible because I know there are plenty more down the road.

Cancerversary

Six years ago on a Friday I met with a primary care physician to discuss my mammogram, ultrasound and biopsy results. That process "alone" was hard. I was younger than most women in the waiting area. Everyone else was there with a sister or friend or for routine mammograms. I had felt a lump months prior, tried to convince myself it was fibrous tissue or some other perfectly reasonable conclusion, some of which had come up in years prior. Nothing new. Nothing alarming. No big deal. But I knew something wasn't right. The lump had increased in size from the first time I had felt it. At that point I was a little panicky, but also avoiding reality. At the time I found the lump we were living in a condo in Payson. I was driving the kids back and forth to school in Salem daily. Two girls in elementary school and two in Jr. High. I was serving in the Relief Society presidency in Payson 8th Ward. (Another story for another day). We had moved there in June. Divorce from the first Nelson was finalized in September. I had really struggled with depression. And was learning about narcissism and unhealty vs. healthy behavior in relationships. I had finally brought up the abuse from when I was a child and was addressing that in therapy. The marriage and divorce had ripped those bandaids right offand reopened those old wounds (which had never been acklowledged or healed properly). So in a big way I can honestly say that things have happened as they should. I needed the healing to happen. But I knew something wasn't right. We didn't have insurance, we didn't qualify for government help and we were living on a very tight budget. We made things work, just as we always have, but I could not afford monthly premiums, even with Good Samaritan groups. I tried applying a few times over. I felt stuck and refused to start the process without some way to pay for it. I knew diagnostic testing would be insanely expensive. Thankfully I had first noticed the lump (completely prompted, I never did self exams before) when it was quite small, so even while it almost doubled in size, it was not huge. At this point I was very frustrated. I received another miracle. Through fasting and prayer my answer was quite literally "make the appointment and I'll take care of the rest." I say it so casually. I argued with the "thought" and again it came. "Make the appointment and I'll take care of the rest." How irresponsible is that? Haha. I laugh at myself now, lol. I'm not sure how many of you have argued with God but man, He sure is patient with me. After the third time I submitted. I had already researched the doctor I would see and committed to call first thing when they opened on Monday morning. When Monday morning came I couldn't do it. I started to research other avenues for some kind of insurance. The words came clearly, directly and stronger... not even a few minutes into my continuing search... "MAKE THE APPOINTMENT AND I'LL TAKE CARE OF THE REST." So I did. The receptionist told me that the doctor I requested was booked at least three weeks out. My heart sank. There was a pause and then she saw that there had just been a cancellation for Wednesday morning. Two days away. She didn't know my reason for scheduling an appointment yet, but kept saying "Wow. That never happens. Nobody every cancels with her... this is crazy, I can't believe someone just cancelled... this appointment was meant for you." I wanted to cry. Little did she know how literal it was. I was relieved when she didn't ask for insurance info in that moment. I applied for government assistance ... again. There is judgement even as I type this. And I know I need to let that go. Somehow. But I was truly proud of my independence. (Past tense, hahaha. I have been broken...) I have always been that way. If I can't do it myself then it is not an option. To ask for help (from anyone) felt like failure. I honestly was bracing myself for the notice saying that we didn't qualify for assistance. I went to the temple that morning, begging for a miracle of some sort, in any form... a job with benefits, winning the lottery (which I still hadn't completely given up on, lol), buried treasure or simply for the lump to just disappear, haha. When I came out of the temple there was a voicemail. I had qualified (another miracle that my application was reviewed and accepted so quickly!) and needed to attend a class about it. The entire call I waited for him to say that there was a mistake of some sort... that I didn't really qualify... but it never happened. I cried. HE kept His promise. Friday. April 1, 2016. April Fool's Day. The words of this song were playing over and over in my mind and the song on repeat... "Broken windows and empty hallways, a pale lit moon in a sky streaked with grey. Human kindness is overflowing, and I think it's gonna rain today... Scarecrows dressed in the latest styles, the frozen smiles to chase love away. Human kindness is overflowing, and I think it's gonna rain today... Lonely, so lonely. Tin can at my feet, I think I'll kick it down the street. That's the way to treat a friend... Right before me the signs implore me: Help the needy and show them the way. Human kindness is overflowing, and I think it's gonna rain today." As I get older some songs make more sense. I went to the temple again. The sky was beautiful. The day was beautiful. I was trying to stay distracted with pranking my kids and helped a friend prank her husband... it was fun. But in the back of my mind was this... feeling... I was sad. And worried. My sister Rachel had called out of the blue and for no reason a few days before. Just to check on me. She asked what was going on. I hadn't said anything to anyone but she insisted on knowing what was wrong. I thought I had done pretty good at masking my emotions but she picked up on my anxiety. It has happened a few times since and with my other sisters and family members, as well. I can't adequately express how grateful I am for them. I told her about my upcoming visit and that I was nervous. It was a huge relief to even say that much and gave me courage. I wasn't alone. I was reminded in the temple of who I am and where I came from and that gave me strength. Sitting in the doctors office, alone... was hard. I was hopeful still... but when the doctor came in and gently touched my arm and then made small talk to get to know me a little, I knew it wasn't good. The rest of the afternoon is literally in slow motion and a blur at the same time. I was fine until she left for a minute to allow me some privacy. Then Rache called. I couldn't hold anything back at that point and I was grateful to have someone cry with me but felt awful for being the reason she was sad. I called my parents on my way home. They were already on their way up for LDS General Conference. (My mom translates talks into Navajo...she's amazing!). A tender mercy. They were already on their way and almost half way here. My brother Gabe and his daughters were scheduled to arrive with in a couple hours also. Gabe was attending a missionary reunion and asked sometime prior if they could stay with us. Having him and his sweet girls there that weekend was a huge comfort and another tender mercy... Genesis, who was seven at the time was so sweet and volunteered to do a lemonade stand to help us out. She comforted my girls and kept them busy being "kids" for a little longer... What seven year old does that? Shares that kind of compassion? I spent that evening calling the rest of my siblings and sharing the news. Hours of crying. Hours of receiving comfort, connection and love. It was exhausting but I was so grateful for each of them. The next day was LDS General Conference. There were a lot of emotions. The first song that was sung was one I had always loved but didn't know well. As I listened to the words that morning it was exactly how I felt... exactly what I needed and again... as I get older some songs make more sense. "Come, thou Fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace; streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise. Teach me some melodious sonnet, sung by flaming tongues above. Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it, mount of thy redeeming love... Here I raise mine Ebeneezer; hither by thy help I'm come; and I hope, by thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home. Jesus sought me when a stranger, wandering from the fold of God; he, to rescue me from danger, interposed his precious blood... O to grace how great a debtor daily I'm constrained to be! Let thy goodness, like a fetter, bind my wandering heart to thee. Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love; here's my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above... Here's my heart, oh take and seal it, seal it for the courts above." I cry every time I hear it. Quite literally I wanted Him to heal that which was broken. Quite literally I was giving all that I am... Later that day I received a message from a girl I had done cheer with in high school. We weren't close back then and had no other reason to really keep in touch other than being friends/acquaintances on Facebook, haha. She messaged that she felt prompted to share something with me and asked for my address so she could mail it. I assumed she had heard from one of the few people I had told about being diagnosed with breast cancer. She had not. She simply had been trying to do better at following promptings. And she had been prompted to share with me. She sent me some artwork and a journal with a girl in a pink dress on the front. It was perfect. You guys... sometimes God uses the last person you couldn't imagine just so you KNOW that it is HIM. That He has not forgotten you. To ensure that you KNOW that you are not alone... It's crazy and a bit of an oxymoron, and I joke because I know that He feels this way about everyone (I do about my own kids, haha) but sometimes I feel like I'm His favorite. LOL. It's true! I AM His favorite! Hahaha. (And so are YOU, lol). He's so good to me! Amidst all the chaos and crazy trials I know without a doubt that He has comforted me, blessed me, gifted me, loved ME, supported me... He has corrected me, guided me, protected me and has truly answered my prayers. Some prayers almost instantly! Little miracles on the regular. I've gone through so many emotions and so many phases of grief... I have been the sassy, bratty child that has tantrums and gets angry with him. The complaints have been legit, hahaha. But without fail... HE HEARS ME. And I know He hears you, too. I'm looking forward to listening to the council that has been prepared this weekend. What I absolutely crave and have need is the validation that He remembers me, He has not forgotten me, He knows me and He has a plan for me. I know, it's basic. Simple. Everything else is "extra" in my book. I've learned so much in my journey with cancer. I'm grateful to be here, still learning... As much as I dislike the consequences of this disease for myself, my kids, my family and for others I know, love and admire, I cannot deny the miracles, the growth, the character gifts that I have received, the life lessons, the spirit lessons, the answered prayers, the amazing warriors/healthcare providers/people I have met and connected with, the love I have felt and even the healing that has taken place in my spirit and soul because of the work I have had to do. Would I wish to do it again? NO. Would I wish this on anyone? Not even my least favorite person in the universe! Would I change any of it? NOT A CHANCE. I am a different person now than I was before I was diagnosed. I'm grateful to those who celebrate that growth with me, who stick by me even when I don't do this gracefully. I'm grateful to those who don't judge (well maybe they do a little LOL) but greater than their judgement is their love and compassion. It's been a bumpy ride and I am truly grateful for all who have supported and loved me at any level. So on this Friday? Exactly six years later, I celebrate. I will celebrate this anniversary. I am grateful. Grateful to be here. Grateful for the hope that exists. Grateful for tender mercies. Grateful for angels, in heaven and on earth. Grateful for miracles. Grateful for a loving Father in Heaven. Grateful for the breath in my body and the healing taking place. Grateful for the knowledge given to help me in my healing journey. Grateful for friends. Grateful for each of you and the opportunity to receive comfort and support in this way. Grateful for my family. My kids. My siblings and parents. Grateful for a reason to want to be here. Grateful for a reason to stay. Grateful for my ancestors, for their help and the legacy they have left. Grateful for a loving and generous Father and Mother in Heaven. Grateful for the His son, Jesus Christ. I cannot express adequately my love for them and praise them in all things. "Human kindness, is overflowing...", "Take my heart, oh take and seal it, seal it for the courts above." Much light and love to each of you. Embrace the good that is here. Celebrate each day. Find joy in little things. Watch for God's hand in your life. You might be surprised and what you find. :) (This was going to be a journal entry. It is loooong... and could have been much longer. I'm grateful I created this page for this reason, haha, so not everyone has to scroll by it if they'd rather not read. Thank you for reading and for being a part of my life and my journey. Namaste).

Between The Rainbows And The Rain

3/10/2014 Yesterday was the 9th anniversary of the passing of a legend. A rodeo man, a true cowboy. A very talented musician an excellent performer and song writer. A great man, a country boy. To the rest of the world, anyway. He was also someone's husband, someone's father, someone's hero. He chose his family over fame and fortune. And he will always have my respect. I was first introduced to his music by my neighbor at 15 years old. Is it funny that I still remember that moment? I had been babysitting their kids and we were talking as I was leaving and she asked if I knew who Chris LeDoux was. I didn't. She was so excited to share with me! She screamed in shock and and kept saying "Oh Suzie, you'll love him!" over and over while she found the CD to play for me. The song she played was County Fair. And I LOVED IT! A few months later they were going to one of his concerts a few hours south of where we lived. She invited me to go, she was so excited! It was just her and her husband and I felt awkward about that, I was also really shy and wasn't sure what we'd talk about for 5 hours of driving, lol, so I declined and stayed home to watch their kids. They brought me back a signed autograph, lol. It was so sweet! I think I still have it. There was such a crowd around Chris that they figured the picture was good enough so they began their exit. On their way out they ran into Chris's son Clay, and had him sign his dad's photo for me. That hung on my bedroom wall until I moved out of my parents home. :) As I began dating and making the "list" of things I was looking for in a man music was always on there in some form. I do love music. But I found over those years of dating that I never spent much time with anyone who didn't know who Chris LeDoux was, lol. I almost subconsciously made that one of my requirements. It was always one of the questions I'd ask at some point if I really liked someone. I remember the time I asked my Brian if he knew who Chris LeDoux was. He was a bit of a renegade, a claassic rock n roll kinda guy. He listened to AC/DC, Metallica, all the old school rock so I was completely floored when he answered. He replied with listing all of Chris LeDoux's albums and his favorite songs. LOL. I remember the day Chris Ledoux passed away. That same neighbor stopped by with a plate of cookies for me. We both cried. Anyway, anytime I think of Chris LeDoux it reminds me of my Brian. So today, as I was reminded about Chris LeDoux and the day he passed away, my mind was also with my love. I miss him.

Every birthday after I married him, I would wish on my birthday candles that we could always be together always. Every year. Every cattle guard. Every shooting star. Every dandelion. Every wish chip. Every lucky bite. Every lucky spoon... Sigh. I still do. I miss you, B.

Saying Good-bye

I wish I didn't fight it so badly. The truth is I take every opportunity I can to say good-bye now since Brian passed. I didn't get to say good-bye to him. I didn't get to say anything. Not even "Love you." He was up and gone before I was even completely awake. So I say it. I do. Yet still, I fight it. The anxiety builds. It's partly the desire to keep things "upbeat" and "happy." Some people request that. And that is good. But in my heart I really just want to lay down next to them, to hold them. To tell them that I love them. And cry.

"Karma's a b*@*#!"

How many times have I heard that?

So in meditation this morning I almost laughed out loud. When this thought flowed into my mind. Karma doesn't have to be a bitch. She doesn't. Karma can be the kindest and sweetest ever. Or she can be funny and genuine. Or she can thoughtful and giving. Because she is what we make her. What we give is what we receive. It is a law of the universe.

That's what meditating does for me. Gives me great moments of insight, hahaha. :)

SOMETIMES... out of the blue...

SIGH. It's been awhile since this has happened. And I'm not sure to whom I owe the thank you card. I'd like to thank SOMEBODY, haha. My old friend grief. As I've referred to him in the past. How am I ever surprised at his arrival? As my brother commented just before I logged off of Facebook. It isn't "sometimes... out of the blue...". It's ALWAYS out of the blue... It made me laugh out loud. He's right. It has been sometime since I have had tears hit me this hard, not being triggered by anything in particular. Ya know? I talk about Brian often. I read quotes everyday about loss. Love and loss. It's nothing new, really. To me. As I was brushing my teeth, sitting on my bed and trying not to let snot and tears get mixed with the toothpaste, I was thinking. (Which I don't know why I do, because it doesn't have to have a reason really, but nonetheless, I over think it). But I was thinking "why?". Why am I sad RIGHT NOW. It was kind of those sweet comments made by my an old friend on Facebook. It was kind of that video I watched of Jason changing Jax's diaper for the first time. It was kind of the blog post I read and commented on. Maybe it was kind of my subconscious realizing that the holidays are here? Maybe. Kind of. Sigh. Maybe it was kind of the accomplishments of the day. I finally ordered a shower door for my shower and in a girly kind of way felt like that was an accomplishment because I spent so much time trying to find the right one with the right measurements. I even watched a video on how to install them, haha. I called all the medical billing offices for my ER visit. THAT was a huge accomplishment and task that I'd been avoiding completely. Sigh. It was such a relief to get it done and get a few paid. I paid more bills. I made dinner. I made a homemade breakfast. AND I made home lunches. It was a good day. I accomplished a lot of things I needed to cross off my list and a few that just make me feel good. Like home lunches. A mommy date to Walmart with Gracie and helping Bree learn a song on the piano. So am I crying because it was a productive day and I feel relieved? Or am I crying because it was a productive day and I'm lonely? Or am I crying because it was a productive day and yet it wasn't enough? (As I type I am sitting on the floor, almost in the doorway of my room because I sold my small desk to make room for a better fitting desk, but still need to sell the other desk and the only desk left is bulky and the only spot it will fit in my room is the corner where all the boxes sit, still unpacked there contents unsure of where they belong, sigh). My list is still never ending of things I don't know how to do, things I am very capable of doing yet don't have time to do and things I simply don't want to do but need to? Not to mention the loving mother I want to be. I want to be less stressed. More joyful. Less distant. More present. And the older my children get, the more I worry. What have I lacked in teaching? In my example? Did they need more repetition? OF COURSE. And I didn't follow through. Sigh. I did fall short, I know that. Before the remarriage/divorce I did a lot of teaching, scripture study, family home evenings. I had an excitement and less doubt. I had trust and hope. In my weakness and recovery did they lose hope, too? I know I am not as strong as I once was. Sigh. And here we are with these struggles. It is getting better, and I thank my Father in Heaven for that blessing. But we are still far from "safe." Sigh. Yet. Wasn't it just yesterday I was telling myself that I haven't been this happy in awhile? A long while? I truly am, haha. I haven't been this content and at peace for years. Or ever, really. And for that I'm pleased. But in this moment. Sigh. For whatever reason... not sometimes, but always... out of the blue... all things point to you. I love you. I miss you. And I hope today was a good day wherever you are...

After a while you learn
the subtle difference between
holding a hand and chaining a soul
and you learn
that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn
that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises
and you begin to accept your defeats
with your head up and your eyes ahead
with the grace of a woman,
not the grief of a child
and you learn
to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans
and futures have a way of falling down
in mid-flight.
After a while you learn
that even sunshine burns
if you get too much
so you plant your own garden
and decorate your own soul
instead of waiting for someone
to bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
you really are strong
you really do have worth
and you learn
and you learn
with every goodbye, you learn
-Veronica A. Shoftstall, 1971

The TRUTH.

The truth is, time doesn't heal all wounds. The truth is the scars will always remain and they are, on occasion scraped off leaving the wound open to bleed, once again. Not in the way that it was in the beginning, and not as often... but painful, still painful. The truth is, this life IS like a grain of sand in the eternal perspective of things. But it is also true that the small, tiny, minute grain of sand which is my earth life has often times found itself embedded in my eye causing pain, tears, turmoil, hurt and heartache. The truth is time really does fly. It goes by quickly without permission or care taking up all the memories with it. Yet at the same time it seems to crawl at a snails pace when my heart hurts my soul misses the physical presence of my love. The little moments of joking and teasing in the stillness of the night as we are drifting off to sleep. The terms of endearment. The physical and casual ways he would show me affection. It's his presence in all things, big and small, that I miss. For now we wait. We wait happily. We are definitely more happy on some days than others. But we do our best to endure cheerfully. It is a learning experience. Every time. My old friend Grief is a contradiction in himself. To have him near is comforting, it reassures me that we loved. We loved deeply. It reassures me that there is still love. That I haven't forgotten. Yet it is exhausting to feel it, and I am sometimes angry with his untimely visits. Yet he whispers "when would you have me come? have you made time for me? for healing?" So, I listen. And I learn. As I reflect on those visits I realize that with his parting and at the conclusion of each visit, I am left with a gift. Understanding. Compassion. Humility. Hope. Love. Unconditional love. Sacrifice. Memories. Connection. Belonging. Belonging... Isn't that what this is all about, anyway? All of that? And for that I am always grateful.

PAIN

"As long as you make an identity for yourself out of pain, you cannot be free of it." ~Eckhart Tolle


One of my favorite blogs is Storybooks for healing. They post on FB often and I find the many of their quotes and thoughts tug at my heartstrings and say things that I had not yet found words for. This was one. Grief. Pain. In whatever form it has taken in your life, does not define who you are. In my case letting it define me could benefit me in some ways. . . Remembering the moments, the people, the event, and the lessons are very important and are partially responsible in molding us into who we are today and to acknowledge and to be grateful for that is very important. For we are not the same people that we were last year, the year before and the year before that. We change day to day and especially after traumatic experiences. But to let pain define who you are daily, is suicide for the soul. The balance of remembering the pain and sorrow that refines you, while not letting it define you is a delicately complex and ongoing journey... Pain will always be present. It will always hurt. It will be a part of creating you. But IT is NOT YOU.

Happiness is not found until YOU ARE.

The 23rd Psalm

The 23rd PSALM 1 The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. 3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake. 4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. 5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. My mother in law would recite this subconsciously as she lay in bed suffering through the last stages of breast cancer. It was more audible when she was more awake, of course. But there came a time when she was on pain medication consistently, even though she tried her best the entire fight to not use medication. In those times her words were slurred, lips barely moving. But those of us who knew her, knew her recitation. I hope that one day, when my mind is cloudy and my body is near the end, that I will be this kind of woman. The kind whose spirit and heart ar so engrained in Christ that I will also willingly and unkowingly sing His praises in my darkest hours.

The Infinite Power of Hope

For my scripture study today I picked a talk that I'd printed out forever ago. As I looked at the date I vaguely remembered this conference. November 2008. I remembered crying through most of it. I haven't read it until today. I LOVE it. So now I will mark my scriptures up!

My TESTIMONY.

I am a daughter of a Heavenly Father who loves me, and I love Him. I know He hears me. And I know He cares. I know without a doubt that he answers my prayers. Sometimes I feel like a spoiled child because it seems that EVERY thing I have asked for, I have received. Just as the scriptures say Luke 11:9-13 "And I say unto you, Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened. If a son shall ask break of any of you that is a father, will he give him a stone? or if he ask a fish, will he for a fish give him a serpent? Or if he shall ask an egg, will he offer him a scorpion? If ye then, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children: how much more shall your Heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?" I know that the things that are important to me, are also important to him because He wants me to be happy. Even and especially the little things, the details that shouldn't be so significant to anybody but are to me. From burned fingers, to foot injuries, to dog issues, to finding matching socks (irnonically this prayer was a pretty desperate one, but was STILL answered...), to locating important papers, to making the budget work, finding encouragement and hope, my list goes on and on of prayers that he as answered. Most often times through other people. Through the past few years I have learned over and over that specific prayers will receive specific answers. One of my favorite quotes is "God is ANXIOUSLY waiting for the chance to answer your prayers and fulfill your dreams, just as He always has. But He can't if you don't pray, and He can't if you don't dream. In short, He can't if you don't believe.” We must believe that He will. I continue to learn and relearn many lessons and most recently my lesson learned is to "BE STILL and know that I am." That when things get hectic and I feel like I'm not getting answers that all I need to do is pray, stay calm and be patient for the answer. While remaining calm. THAT seems to be the hard part for me because I am continually telling myself that "If I don't do this, who will? This is MY responsibility and nobody else's" etc. I think that many times I say my prayers and then jump up to get to work answering my own prayer. And I'm not so good at answering prayers. It's very hard for me to let someone else take control of my life when lately it seems like I have had no control. I overcompensate and try to gain as much control over everything I possibly can. My poor kids. :( The truth is I've had control all along. Just not how I was expecting. I may not completely remember the conversation in which my earthly trials were discussed, and I'm honestly glad that I don't. But the truth is I CHOSE THIS. And the truth is that given the chance I would not give these experiences back or trade them with anyone. The truth is I am SO very grateful for the opportunity to struggle and to be humbled because when all is said and done it has driven me to gain a stronger relationship with my Father and with my brother, Jesus Christ. Just like in the Book of Mormon. I've heard comments about people not liking the war chapters, and it's true, there's a lot of disgusting behavior and sadness in them. I, personally, happen to love them. Not for those things but for the very specific prayers voiced and the very specific answers given. It seems to me that the times when they struggled the most are the times when Heavenly Father sent miracle after miracle. I am so grateful for the specific prayers that He has answered for me. I want Him to know that I love Him with all my heart and am so grateful for his love, trust, patience and faith in me. I am so grateful for the tender mercies He gives me daily. I am so grateful for this gospel. For the commandments we are given that if followed really do lead to true happiness. I am so grateful for the Book of Mormon. I testify that it IS TRUE. I'm so grateful for the examples of the people who lived and struggled and believed and had hope and faith, for the prophets who sacrificed and loved and taught them. I'm so grateful that they wrote their stories down so that I could read them and apply the lessons they learned and the teachings they were given into my own life. I testify that Joseph Smith was a true prophet of God. I'm grateful for him for having the courage to stand alone. For enduring the persecutions he endured. For the dedication he had to our Father in Heaven and for his desires to do as he was asked. He didn't have to. He could have said "this is too much" and walked away, but he didn't. Because of his love for Heavenly Father and Jesus, for his family, and for us. I'm grateful for his sweet Emma. I'm so grateful to my brother Savior Jesus Christ, for loving me enough to dedicate his existence to save me, to carry my burdens, to comfort and sustain me with his hand, to wash away my sins and heartache. He promised that he will provide. And He has, in so many ways. I love Him with all my heart and I bear this testimony of Him. I KNOW he lives.

The Book of Mormon: Another Testament of Jesus Christ

Today I finished the Book of Mormon. I cried through the entire last chapter. It's not the only time I cried. So many emotions. I cried for the people. The degrees of wickedness are not mine to judge, but regardless, the suffering and torture they endured and pain and agony they inflicted upon each other was hard to read about. Hard to imagine. For Mormon and for Moroni it must have been heartbreaking. Heartbreaking and lonely. I cried for them. I wonder if Moroni cried as he reread the epistles his father sent to him. I wonder if he included them because he missed his father so much. If in sharing them he felt somewhat closer, and a little less alone. I know that a great prophet like him knew that God was with him. That Christ was strengthening him and lifting him up. But as I have lived through my own trials I know that this knowledge does not make you exempt from these feelings or the trials of life. I cried because I didn't want it to end. There were so many moments that I would try to imagine what it would be like. The details of any one persons life were not given. But these people lived. They had lives. They had daily experiences. Daily hardships. Daily goals. Just like me. There were many widows throughout. I often wondered what she longed for. A loaf of bread? Like the one that sits on my counter? That may have been all that she prayed for that day. A blanket or clothing for her child? The clothes in my closet could clothe her entire family, cousins, aunts and uncles included. The blankets in my closet could again, protect more than one family from the elements. There is so much that I have. Is it retarded that I wish that I could share what I have with people who have been dead for centuries? SIGH. And yet I can. I can share with those in need now. As I prayed afterward I DID ask. I asked if the book was true. I felt silly, because I knew that it was and knew that I didn't need to ask to know of it's truthfulness. But I am glad that I did. I did get an even greater confirmation. Nothing huge. But thoughts that came to my mind. I wished that I could thank Moroni and Mormon, and all these great prophets in person. I imagined myself embracing each of them in gratitude for the sacrifices they made so that I could have this book. So that I could read of the teachings of Christ. So that I could be uplifted by their strength, by their love, by their examples. Again, I cried. I thought of a journal entry after a session with Pam when she shared with me that Brian was doing a great work. "October 5, 2009. Brian was here today. He was here along with native american ancestors who are concerned about their family. They are working together. Part of the work Brian has to do on the otherside is with them, especially now in allowing this family to heal." I immediately remembered a fifth Sunday adult meeting in 6th Ward when the topic of couples serving missions was taught. As I sat next to him that day I laughed as he commented about the mission we would to serve together one day. Without hesitating and in a teasing voice (but I was mostly serious at the time) I replied that we are not serving a couples mission. I told him that there is no way that the two of us would survive spending 24 hours a day seven days a week together and that we'd end up divorced if we weren't by then anyway. I told him that I was fine to forgo my dream of serving a mission in order to save our marriage. Then end. (With a chuckle). There aren't many moments that he didn't have a response and that was one of them. The look on his face made me feel bad about being so blunt. I cried remembering this, knowing that what I said was true. We would never have the opportunity to serve a couples mission together. I cried in regret, for him and I. These thoughts filled my mind in moments, as I prayed, and I was filled with love and compassion for him. For the great work that he is doing for me AND my family right now. And just as quickly came the thought that we can. We can serve that mission. That as he works on the other side of the veil to bring my ancestors to the gospel, that I can serve with him. We can serve together in a very nontraditional couples mission with a the very same purpose. This thought led back to those I had of the widow, or the child or any mother or sister in the Book of Mormon. I can share. I can share more than a loaf of bread. I can share more than a blanket. I can share more than clothing. I can share something even more dear, and even more important. I can share this gospel. I can share my testimony of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon and the prophets who wrote it. I can share my testimony of Joseph Smith who translated it and restored the Gospel of Christ on this earth in our latter days. I can share the existence of a Father who lives and loves me. I can share of the tender mercies he continually pours down upon me and my children. I can share the love that I have for His son, Jesus Christ. My brother. My saviour. My friend. My supporter, my advocate, my ally, my redeemer, my defender, my protector, and my comforter. I can share....

"Namaste"

It was about one year after the accident that a friend suggested I try a yoga class. We had been on the drill team in high school together and shared a love of dancing and she explained that yoga/pilates had a very 'rhythmic' feel to it that she just knew I would love. :) Dancing was something that I still did on my own, not anything formal by ANY means, lol. Just turning up the music and dancing around the house with my kids was something I really enjoyed and did especially when I felt overwhelmed and stressed out. It also helps when I feel myself slipping into the depths of despair, although I don't always think of it when I'm already down. It is very much an 'out' for me. At the time she suggested it I had been a widow for one year. It was the most difficult year of my life trying to figure out WHO I was and WHAT I wanted. I felt out of place everywhere I went. I had already been in a relationship, and out of it. And that alone was very devastating. My first day of yoga class was very uncomfortable. I remember feeling very self conscious about even attending. Very self conscious about what people might be thinking of the choices I was making. I was very uncomfortable with where I was, my situation and everything about it. I didn't feel like I belonged. I felt out of place everywhere. I didn't know any of the ladies very well. I didn't know any of the moves. I didn't know what to expect at all. By the end of class I felt a deep sense of relaxation. Something that I hadn't felt in a long, long time without the help of medication. That in itself was an accomplishment for me! I went for one month, then periodically after that. Yesterday was my first day back in almost one year and I am determined to be more consistent because it helps me stay calm, centered and focused throughout the day. Something about all that deep breathing! Lol. Seriously, there is a spiritual connection somehow in doing yoga, I can't quite pinpoint it, I just know I need it and it helps me to heal. TODAY, I learned part of why that may be. The instructor was helping us with handstands. I've done handstands before in my life. They were no big deal at the time but for some reason, I didn't know if it was because it had been so long since I'd done one, or because I think I'm old and old people don't do handstands haha, or what, but I felt panic! I immediately stepped back, afraid of putting myself in a position that was uncomfortable. It was definitely out of my comfort zone. Afraid of not being able to control my body and afraid of hurting myself somehow. Afraid of being upside down? Lol. I know it sounds retarded! But I was! Logically it didn't make sense. I have an intense fear of heights and I was feeling those same feelings that I get when I see someone standing too close to a cliff edge. But WHY? I was on stable, flat ground and my head would be even closer to the ground...it was my feet that would be up-not even 'high', just UP. Lol. So I listened to the instructor as she was giving us pointers to work into the position. I listened but knew that I didn't want to do it. Then she said something that struck me. I knew that this was what my problem was. TRUST. You have to TRUST yourself. You have to TRUST your body and it's abilities. You have to TRUST your partner/spotter. It hit me hard. I knew that trust was something I struggled with, but enough to make me afraid of doing a handstand? Apparently so. In that moment I realized that this 'yoga' thing was more than just a calming/relaxing/stretching thing. This was huge. This was a step in learning to trust myself and my instincts, to trust others, to trust God. In that moment I was determined to conquer this fear of trust. To trust in God again. It wasn't pretty but I did it. WITH help and spotting. But I did it. Not even a complete handstand. She saw my fear and had me start in a forearm stand. Good enough. Baby steps. And with time I'm planning on not just doing a handstand, but being confident and comfortable (not TOO comfortable, haha) in that position. {Let thy bowels also be full of charity towards all men, and to the household of faith, and let virtue garnish thy thoughts unceasingly; then shall thy confidence wax strong inthe presence of God; and the doctrine of the priesthood shall distil upon thy soul as the dews from heaven D&C 121:45} Later as we were doing stretches on the floor something again made an impression. It was something I already knew but hadn't related to spirituality until she said the words. The instructor was helping us to get a deeper stretch, which to do this she instructed us to LET GO and relax the muscles, the body knows what to do. It sounded simple enough but really took concentration to let the muscles relax and to leave them relaxed. It almost seems backwards, doesn't it? To have them do as little as possible they will gain the best stretch and really lengthen. Weird concept (maybe it's just me). And she was right, as I relaxed and let go of the control I suddenly felt a much deeper and more comfortable stretch without really trying. In this moment I thought of my control issues. They were present before the accident but since the accident had erupted into a force to be reckoned with. I felt so out of control that I overcompensated and attempted to control as much as I possibly could in my life. Partly for fear of loss, partly in grief from losing Brian and Linda, partly for safety and security, and partly because I was lacking in trust. I'm sure there are other reasons that I haven't figured out yet... To say that you trust in God is one thing, to TRUST HIM is another. To LET GO and truly trust that He will take care of me, having no fear in what the future holds is my goal. As evidenced by handstands and yoga poses. ;) {Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding. Proverbs 3:5} {For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7}

Everything Is Beautiful ~Ann Marie Boskovich

In the end, after the storm, the fog, the chaos. After the fear, the pain, the tears. Comes the peace. Through it all my perspective has become clearer, just as the world does in the moments after a storm. Suddenly it seems as though colors are brighter and more vivid. A rainbow appears, the dark and terrifying clouds of the storm behind it, reminding me that it's beauty was not possible without the storm that preceded it. Life is beautiful. Even in the eye of the storm there is beauty...