Last year, we drove our youngest daughter to college in Idaho. We stopped in Salt Lake City and attended a session before it closed it's doors in December for a massive four year renovation. I was pondering my children and was concerned about their testimony and whether they would remain active in the gospel.
It was just before entering the celestial room that I received an answer that acted as a balm and gave me courage. I realized that through the power of the priesthood (our family having been sealed in the temple) that somehow, all would be well as long as we continued to strive towards perfection. It has been said that as long as our feet are on the pathway towards the Lord when our mortality ended, that the atonement would make our works sufficient.
It is the hardest thing to allow our children to grow up and make their own choices. It's so hard to remember all the false starts and ill-thought-out decisions we made at their age. It requires so much faith to believe they will grow out of their youth and return to the Lord. But I believe the Spirit has whispered to me to trust the power of the Priesthood to be upon my family, so I falteringly move forward and hope that I can be the parent they need.
Sunday 2 February 2020
I dreamed a dream or in other words, I had a vision 1990
When I was about 27 I had a dream, but it was so much more like a vision. The dream was so vivid and wasn't disjoined like a regular dream. I'll just tell it the way I remember it so perfectly.
The first I remember I was in an operating room watching as doctors and nurses were frantically working over a person on a table. As they bustled about, I saw the person they were trying to recesitate was ME and I was watching this from the corner ceiling of the operating theater. I was distraught as I watched them insert needles and tubes into my body, the body which had ALWAYS served me well. My heart had always beat strong and regularly, my lungs had breathed without any thought on my part, but now it was betraying me. I was so upset, worrying about my 2 young daughters and who would care for them.
As I looked away to my left, the operating room faded and I saw darkness. When I had turned 180 degrees, I was in a plain room and the things I was thinking about all of a sudden became absurd, silly worries. A laugh burbled from my throat as I, remembering how foolish it was to worry about such childish things, and said, "Oh yeah!" remembering with a certainty that everything was already taken care of. Then I noticed that in a simple chair sat a woman that I have never seen before with my mortal eyes. As my glance fell on her I joyfully cried, "Mother!" and ran to her, sitting at her feet and placing my head in her lap. She spoke to me, telling me important things that I remember thinking, "I need to remember this."
The next part of my dream finds me in a restaurant with Michelle and Kimmy's father and his parents. I was in great humor thinking how great it was that I had been resurrected and was visiting with my earthly family. I was very animated as I mentioned to them my new immortal state. I remembered feeling so unafraid. I was unafraid of death because I knew how fantastic it was to leave the mortal existence. But they looked at each other and I could tell something was up. I asked what was going on and they looked like they didn't know who should tell me. Finally, my mother-in-law told me that I hadn't died, that the doctors were able to save me, but that I had an aneurism in my brain and that one day it would burst and I would die instantly. I was so ANGRY! So angry at those doctors for pulling me away from my afterlife. I felt the mortal mantle of fear begin to settle around me as I realized I was going to have to die.
I got home and my two preschool children were there, needing to be fed, to be dressed, to be cared for and all I could do was think, "I've got to write down my life for them so when I leave, they will know me. I was trying to wipe a face and find something to write on, but only came up with a piece of an envelope to write on.
Then I woke up, knowing that keeping a journal for my children was the most important thing I could leave them. So here I am, nearly 20 years later doing just that. And those things "Mother" told me about that I wanted to remember were veiled from my memory, but I testify, when she told me them, it was amazing and made so much sense and I know when I return, I WILL remember.
The first I remember I was in an operating room watching as doctors and nurses were frantically working over a person on a table. As they bustled about, I saw the person they were trying to recesitate was ME and I was watching this from the corner ceiling of the operating theater. I was distraught as I watched them insert needles and tubes into my body, the body which had ALWAYS served me well. My heart had always beat strong and regularly, my lungs had breathed without any thought on my part, but now it was betraying me. I was so upset, worrying about my 2 young daughters and who would care for them.
As I looked away to my left, the operating room faded and I saw darkness. When I had turned 180 degrees, I was in a plain room and the things I was thinking about all of a sudden became absurd, silly worries. A laugh burbled from my throat as I, remembering how foolish it was to worry about such childish things, and said, "Oh yeah!" remembering with a certainty that everything was already taken care of. Then I noticed that in a simple chair sat a woman that I have never seen before with my mortal eyes. As my glance fell on her I joyfully cried, "Mother!" and ran to her, sitting at her feet and placing my head in her lap. She spoke to me, telling me important things that I remember thinking, "I need to remember this."
The next part of my dream finds me in a restaurant with Michelle and Kimmy's father and his parents. I was in great humor thinking how great it was that I had been resurrected and was visiting with my earthly family. I was very animated as I mentioned to them my new immortal state. I remembered feeling so unafraid. I was unafraid of death because I knew how fantastic it was to leave the mortal existence. But they looked at each other and I could tell something was up. I asked what was going on and they looked like they didn't know who should tell me. Finally, my mother-in-law told me that I hadn't died, that the doctors were able to save me, but that I had an aneurism in my brain and that one day it would burst and I would die instantly. I was so ANGRY! So angry at those doctors for pulling me away from my afterlife. I felt the mortal mantle of fear begin to settle around me as I realized I was going to have to die.
I got home and my two preschool children were there, needing to be fed, to be dressed, to be cared for and all I could do was think, "I've got to write down my life for them so when I leave, they will know me. I was trying to wipe a face and find something to write on, but only came up with a piece of an envelope to write on.
Then I woke up, knowing that keeping a journal for my children was the most important thing I could leave them. So here I am, nearly 20 years later doing just that. And those things "Mother" told me about that I wanted to remember were veiled from my memory, but I testify, when she told me them, it was amazing and made so much sense and I know when I return, I WILL remember.
He will direct us 1988
The next time I really remember the Lord answering prayers was when I had my own baby, Michelle. She was 18 months or so and needed to get her immunization shots. We had an appointment at the health center and I needed to be on time. The problem was, I couldn't find my car keys. We lived in a small 2 bedroom apartment, simply furnished. I looked EVERYWHERE for those keys, but they were literally not to be found They weren't in my purse, the diaper bag, the counter, the dresser. I was going to miss her appointment if I didn't find those keys. In desperation, I knelt down and told Heavenly Father my problem. I told him how important this appointment was and asked for him to help me find the keys. As I stood up, I looked around the bedroom but no inspiration was finding its way into my mind. I half heartedly checked the dresser tops again, wandered out into the living area and thought, "Look in the book case." I glanced at the top of the 2 foot book case but the keys obviously weren't there. I knelt down and put my hand behind the books thinking this was the most ridiculous place to look, knowing I would never put the keys there. And yet, there they were! As I pulled the keys out and hustled to make my appointment, I realized that Michelle must have found the keys and put them there. I was SO incredibly grateful for the Lord inspiring me to look for those keys in a place I would never have looked on my own. This was another testimony to me that God wants us to come to him even with our smallest concerns and he will direct us for our good.
The Still Small Voice 1980
I think the very first and most clear experiences I've ever had was when I was about 16. I was babysitting for the O'Banions. They were members of our church and as far as I could gauge, the richest, most beautiful people on the planet. I was always happy to babysit so I could make a little cash, so I wanted to do such a good job, they would ALWAYS ask me to be their babysitter.
They had a little boy about 6-9 months old and a little girl about 2-3 years old. I wanted to follow to the letter the directions they gave me. I put their son to bed exactly as directed and everything was going fine. Then I put the daughter to bed, but she started fretting and crying and that wasn't working so well. I finally got her to bed but then little brother woke up. I tried everything I knew to get him settled but he just cried and cried. I took him downstairs to get him a bottle, which he refused. I tried walking and singing softly to him but he cried on. I was so worried the O'Banions would come home and see I was an inept babysitter and never have me back. I remember holding that baby boy in my arms and kneeling down in their living room asking the Lord for help. As I stood up, I heard clearly and distinctly in my left ear the words, "Put him to bed, he will be fine." I turned my head to the left to see who it was who had spoken so clearly to me. I HEARD it. No one was there in that empty living room, I knew I had just heard the Spirit of the Lord speak to me. I walked up those steps, put that poor screaming boy in his crib, turned off the light and closed the door. I went down to the kitchen where the baby monitor was located and listened fearfully as he cried. What if the O[Banion's walked in and witnessed me doing nothing while their son was crying? Within a minute, the cries settled and then silence as he fell asleep. I was SO grateful for the answer to my worried prayer. It has been a testimony to me that the Lord hears and answers our prayers, even if they are just simple problems.
They had a little boy about 6-9 months old and a little girl about 2-3 years old. I wanted to follow to the letter the directions they gave me. I put their son to bed exactly as directed and everything was going fine. Then I put the daughter to bed, but she started fretting and crying and that wasn't working so well. I finally got her to bed but then little brother woke up. I tried everything I knew to get him settled but he just cried and cried. I took him downstairs to get him a bottle, which he refused. I tried walking and singing softly to him but he cried on. I was so worried the O'Banions would come home and see I was an inept babysitter and never have me back. I remember holding that baby boy in my arms and kneeling down in their living room asking the Lord for help. As I stood up, I heard clearly and distinctly in my left ear the words, "Put him to bed, he will be fine." I turned my head to the left to see who it was who had spoken so clearly to me. I HEARD it. No one was there in that empty living room, I knew I had just heard the Spirit of the Lord speak to me. I walked up those steps, put that poor screaming boy in his crib, turned off the light and closed the door. I went down to the kitchen where the baby monitor was located and listened fearfully as he cried. What if the O[Banion's walked in and witnessed me doing nothing while their son was crying? Within a minute, the cries settled and then silence as he fell asleep. I was SO grateful for the answer to my worried prayer. It has been a testimony to me that the Lord hears and answers our prayers, even if they are just simple problems.
Sunday 7 May 2017
The Rest of the Story
When we entered the alternate universe of mental health disorders, I thought that once the chemical imbalance was straightened out, we would be good to go. Unfortunately, for us, the self harm morphed into an eating disorder. I think it had been lurking all along, but the residential treatment center did not deal with eating disorders. Since we had bigger fish to fry, we put that on the back burner and just tried to find the right dosage of the right medicine to help our child not self destruct. On December 23, 2014, we drove our child home, the long term treatment ended. I was terrified. Would we be racing back to an emergency facility within three weeks? Could I care for my own child? Luckily, things did smooth out. No more police visits, or hospital visits or CPS visits. However, our child "coped" by eating as little as possible. She lost 20 pounds before we finally found help. This was our journey:
Although everyone talks about how evil health insurance companies are, I need to tell you that ours was super helpful and caring and understanding. They covered all of our child's hospitalizations and medication and therapists. Sadly, they did not cover nutritionists. We realized going in that we were going to be paying out of pocket for this, but the alternative would be to allow our child to slowly starve as body dysmorphia controlled reality.
I searched for a nutritionist that dealt with eating disorders. There weren't very many. When I found one that did, I made an appointment and poured out our story. She was very kind, she totally understood, having lived with an eating disorder herself, but she couldn't help. She wasn't licensed to treat patients with eating disorders. I cried. That may not mean much unless you know how I hate crying, especially in front of others. But I ugly cried with grief, frustration, anger and fear. How was I going to keep my child from wasting away?
Joining an eating disorder support group online was an inspired move. I wouldn't have known what to do without their advice, pep talks, and support. Everything I read said eating disorders had to be hit HARD. I found a place in Austin that specialized in eating disorders. Macallum Place was our answer. I remember when we visited, I hoped we could do outpatient, from 3pm to 5 pm Monday through Friday and all day Saturday, but after speaking with them, realized we had to do their all-day program in order to eradicate this very insidious mental illness. Dan was on a business trip and I didn't feel I could handle dropping the news that we were going to "hospitalize" our child yet again. My support group was there for me. I am SO grateful to this day for those faceless strangers who became my lifeline during that really dark time.
Once we did the paperwork, the hard part really began. Dan would make the drive to Austin in the morning before going to work to drop our child off and I would leave work at 2:30 every day for the pick up. Between us, we basically spent 6 hours on the road every day. I can't even remember how in the world we did weekends. But we did this for months. MONTHS! The toll fees alone mounted into hundreds of dollars. Our insurance company didn't bat an eye. In May, our child finally reached the weight requirement and graduated from Macallum, a place that holds good memories for our family. The staff helped us find a nutritionist (still not covered by insurance) as well as a therapist so we could transition away from such intensive therapy.
It's almost two years later. Things are stable. Eating isn't an issue. Yes, I still get triggered when our kid picks at the meal or won't eat everything, or chooses to drink a Boost if dinner doesn't sit well (it happens VERY infrequently). We're all still here. Things are much better. Not all the parents on my support group had such happy endings, so this was miraculous. I count this as a blessing.
Although everyone talks about how evil health insurance companies are, I need to tell you that ours was super helpful and caring and understanding. They covered all of our child's hospitalizations and medication and therapists. Sadly, they did not cover nutritionists. We realized going in that we were going to be paying out of pocket for this, but the alternative would be to allow our child to slowly starve as body dysmorphia controlled reality.
I searched for a nutritionist that dealt with eating disorders. There weren't very many. When I found one that did, I made an appointment and poured out our story. She was very kind, she totally understood, having lived with an eating disorder herself, but she couldn't help. She wasn't licensed to treat patients with eating disorders. I cried. That may not mean much unless you know how I hate crying, especially in front of others. But I ugly cried with grief, frustration, anger and fear. How was I going to keep my child from wasting away?
Joining an eating disorder support group online was an inspired move. I wouldn't have known what to do without their advice, pep talks, and support. Everything I read said eating disorders had to be hit HARD. I found a place in Austin that specialized in eating disorders. Macallum Place was our answer. I remember when we visited, I hoped we could do outpatient, from 3pm to 5 pm Monday through Friday and all day Saturday, but after speaking with them, realized we had to do their all-day program in order to eradicate this very insidious mental illness. Dan was on a business trip and I didn't feel I could handle dropping the news that we were going to "hospitalize" our child yet again. My support group was there for me. I am SO grateful to this day for those faceless strangers who became my lifeline during that really dark time.
Once we did the paperwork, the hard part really began. Dan would make the drive to Austin in the morning before going to work to drop our child off and I would leave work at 2:30 every day for the pick up. Between us, we basically spent 6 hours on the road every day. I can't even remember how in the world we did weekends. But we did this for months. MONTHS! The toll fees alone mounted into hundreds of dollars. Our insurance company didn't bat an eye. In May, our child finally reached the weight requirement and graduated from Macallum, a place that holds good memories for our family. The staff helped us find a nutritionist (still not covered by insurance) as well as a therapist so we could transition away from such intensive therapy.
It's almost two years later. Things are stable. Eating isn't an issue. Yes, I still get triggered when our kid picks at the meal or won't eat everything, or chooses to drink a Boost if dinner doesn't sit well (it happens VERY infrequently). We're all still here. Things are much better. Not all the parents on my support group had such happy endings, so this was miraculous. I count this as a blessing.
Thursday 12 March 2015
Waiting for the Other Shoe...
When we lived in Bosnia, we were fortunate that our landlord's daughter spoke some English. One day she was telling me about a product she didn't like and she told me, "It is sheet." I was taken aback at her language. Then I realized that she didn't understand the offensiveness of that word. To her, it just meant, "worthless" or "no good". I totally get her now.
Last year was sheet.; serious sheet. I'm afraid this year might be it's ugly twin. Our family is in crisis. I don't know how to write about it...we are battling a sinister alien who has taken one of our children hostage. The doctors have named it Depression. Anxiety. Possible Bi-Polar Disorder. We went through four emergency psychiatric facilities and a long term residential hospital in nine months. Those nine months included four attempted suicides, two runaway incidents an one melt down in a police car. Our child called Child Protective Services after an altercation in our home. They wouldn't close the case until they knew that this child (suffering from a poor cocktail of SSRI medications) was locked safely away in a residential treatment center so that the other child in our home would be safe.
Residential treatment was the ticket. It got the right meds on board and we have been 50+ days without a meltdown. But that *@$! hijacker is back, this time clothed as an eating disorder. Our baby is melting away, starving, terrified of food. Our child's hostage whispers lies, makes the image in the mirror look distorted, ugly, fat. Our beautiful child won't even eat half the calories needed to sustain health. This makes our usually cheerful child morbidly surly and critical. Today I hugged my baby and gently murmured that athletics needed to be cut since there weren't enough calories to maintain that level of activity. "I'm afraid for your heart. I love your heart. I don't want it to be damaged," I whispered quietly. Tuesday, we go to the pediatrician to get the ball rolling on this newest development. I feel like we are trapped in Satan's own Fun House where each turn is met with a new and more fearful specter. I feel like we are strapped into a roller coaster from hell being pulled slowly up, up, up. I don't know when the drop will come, only that it will. I hate roller coasters. They are sheet.
Friday 24 January 2014
My First Snow Day EVER
Weather in central Texas is an enigma. Which is awesome because how many times do you get a chance to use the word "enigma"? But we ARE going to discuss the weather because it's been bizarre and puzzling and difficult to understand…which is the exact definition of an enigma, so there you go.
See, on Thursday, it was chilly when I arrived to school at 6:30 a.m.. Then it became pretty brisk by 9:30, evolving to bitingly cold by lunchtime. At 4:00 p.m. as I was waving good-bye to my last student, it was decidedly arctic. I was going to stay awhile to clean up my classroom, but the roads were starting to ice up, so I abandoned ship. It was SNOWING by dinnertime. It was still snowing when I went to bed with the liberating news that school would be delayed two hours on the morrow.
See, on Thursday, it was chilly when I arrived to school at 6:30 a.m.. Then it became pretty brisk by 9:30, evolving to bitingly cold by lunchtime. At 4:00 p.m. as I was waving good-bye to my last student, it was decidedly arctic. I was going to stay awhile to clean up my classroom, but the roads were starting to ice up, so I abandoned ship. It was SNOWING by dinnertime. It was still snowing when I went to bed with the liberating news that school would be delayed two hours on the morrow.
We woke to find we had ourselves a bona fide Snow Day, giving us an unintended three day weekend! You Northerners don't understand the phenomena that is snow when you live in TEXAS where a cold snap means temperatures will be under 50 degrees.
The kids were up and we giddily high fived each other and whooped as we read the text message that freed us from all responsible behavior for the rest of the day. Granted, it was just a dusting of the magical white crystals, but the kids got dressed and romped around in it, making snow/dirt angels and a legit-looking snow-dwarf. They would warm themselves occasionally in front of the fire pit where flames crackled smartly. Then, using all the snow they could find in the yard, they made a snowball two feet in diameter and parked it by the back door. They played video games for too long. They made a batch of chocolate chip cookies and then ate them all. Yeah, it was the perfect day…
The kids were up and we giddily high fived each other and whooped as we read the text message that freed us from all responsible behavior for the rest of the day. Granted, it was just a dusting of the magical white crystals, but the kids got dressed and romped around in it, making snow/dirt angels and a legit-looking snow-dwarf. They would warm themselves occasionally in front of the fire pit where flames crackled smartly. Then, using all the snow they could find in the yard, they made a snowball two feet in diameter and parked it by the back door. They played video games for too long. They made a batch of chocolate chip cookies and then ate them all. Yeah, it was the perfect day…
Tomorrow the temperatures will be in the mid 60's. Sunday will be a sunny 71 degrees. I love our winters!
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