by Faith St. Clair
If ever I saw a stunning rainbow, it is right here in the dark of my home office tonight with only the glare of the computer and a small desk lamp. The background noise emits family night routines of baths, phone calls, kitchen clean-up and the slow summer need to get to bed. In the foreground, the scene is one of colorful beauty and peace. We have education, incomes, children, good health, a home that provides shelter and friends, testimonies of the gospel, relative youth, the opportunity for trials, the fortitude to endure them and the faith to learn from them.
A while ago I wrote about my life spinning out of control and blamed it on my mid-life crisis. Today that crisis still churns, but the glimpses of wonder that I catch sight of in between the frantic rotations are overarching. What I see is colorful, beautiful, peaceful - it is a blessed life. Like a dancer who “spots” when they pirouette in order to focus on just one spot so as to not get dizzy, my spot has become the rainbow. And although my gaze is often interrupted by a stream of people needing questions answered, tomorrow’s to-do list that screams to be added to and trials that await just beyond the corner, I’ll look to my rainbow of blessings, opportunities, daily miracles, answered prayers and God’s watchful care. I don’t think the whirlwind has slowed any, but my ability to spot the rainbow has sharpened.
Reverently speaking…thank God for promised rainbows!
Wherein Marsha Ward (the founder of American Night Writers Association) and a few of her friends blogged about Life, the Universe, and their place in the World of Writing and Publishing. This blog is now dormant.
May 30, 2007
The Joy of Journaling
Valerie J. Steimle
I started writing a journal when I was 12 years old. As a young woman, I wrote all about my dreams and aspirations. (Along with whom I secretly liked at church.) It was a great way to keep track of my goals and vent the frustrations of growing up. That was 35 years ago. Now, nine children and seven journals later I‘m still writing. I started a brand new journal at the turn of the century and looking back on the other journals, I was surprised at the details of my life.
There were some things I had forgotten about. For example, I wrote an entry of what it felt like the first time my oldest kicked me when I was carrying her in my womb. People forget about the details of their life. I am grateful that I took the time to write about the little things.
There are some days I am motivated to record all the funny things that everyone did that day in our whole family. It would take a lot of time but it was worth it for all the memories recorded.
Like the time I wrote about a day which started out “Today, I woke up this morning to ‘one of those days’. I knew it was going to be ‘one of those days’ because I went past the hallway bathroom and found three signs taped on the door:
1) DANGER: Biochemical Neurotoxins DANGER
2) DANGER: Biohazard Stupidity
3) DO NOT ENTER: Quarantine Warning
Let me explain: Last night Naomi’s (17) running shoes were stinking up her room. Tasha (14) and Sarah (19) were complaining about the smell. Naomi washed them and sprayed them with ‘fabreeze’ but they still smelled so she hid them under the sink in the hallway bathroom and Isaac (16) hung up the signs.” The day got progressively more chaotic with trying to locate all the Planet of the Ape movies to have a Planet of the Apes movie marathon. I wrote it all down in my journal.
Then there are other days I don’t care to write at all. (I don’t like those days.) So I came up with an idea on how to keep an even keel. Instead of overwhelming myself with the idea of writing all the details every day for an hour, I think to myself, I will only write five minutes every other day and leave it at that. If I write more fine, if I don’t that’s fine too.
I like to record the funny things that my children have done. When I am depressed, those writings can really cheer me up. Then there were times I recorded unusual happenings that didn’t seem to be funny at the time, but now are priceless. For example, one year in the first week of school, (we homeschool) I recorded the complaints of my children whose ages spanned from 3 to 15. I had run to the store for a few minutes and when I came back this is what I heard:
1. “Nobody is doing school work.”
2. “Isaac didn’t want to cut the lawn.” (My oldest son, 13 at the time)
3. Tasha and Jena (neighbor child) were cheating at kickball.” (both 11)
4. “Tasha didn’t want to cut the lawn.” (They were supposed to take turns)
5. “Sarah (15) hit Caleb.” (8)
6. “Caleb hit her back.”
7. “Tasha hit Sarah with her PEZ dispenser.”
8. “Isaac locked Caleb in the closet.”
9. “Naomi (14) is touching everyone’s stuff.”
10. “Everyone is yelling at Naomi.”
11. “Naomi was walking backwards and ran into Sarah.”
12. “Naomi shot Lydia (3) with a rubber band.”
That entry really makes me laugh. It’s so typical of what children will say about each other when they are annoyed. I never would have remembered all those details if I had not written them down.
My life is so full and my writing reflects that lifestyle. I don’t record all the mundane things I do but I write about what is important to me at the time. Sometimes hanging up bed sheets on a cool windy day is important to me so I write about that. Sometimes swinging gently in my hammock under the trees with my 3-year-old is important to me so I write about that. After I do my weekly biking, sometimes I’ll write my thoughts for the morning. One of the best things about writing is that I’ll always have the pages of my thoughts kept safe for reading on another day.
Not only are there snippets of my children’s life in my journal, but my goals for the year and my spiritual insights are recorded there as well. Writing down my feelings about world events and what is important to me in my life is therapeutic. I feel much better after writing for a half an hour and can face the day of peanut butter and jelly faces, a sink full of dirty dishes and homework to correct. I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone in the world and I have the personal writings in my journal to prove it.
I started writing a journal when I was 12 years old. As a young woman, I wrote all about my dreams and aspirations. (Along with whom I secretly liked at church.) It was a great way to keep track of my goals and vent the frustrations of growing up. That was 35 years ago. Now, nine children and seven journals later I‘m still writing. I started a brand new journal at the turn of the century and looking back on the other journals, I was surprised at the details of my life.
There were some things I had forgotten about. For example, I wrote an entry of what it felt like the first time my oldest kicked me when I was carrying her in my womb. People forget about the details of their life. I am grateful that I took the time to write about the little things.
There are some days I am motivated to record all the funny things that everyone did that day in our whole family. It would take a lot of time but it was worth it for all the memories recorded.
Like the time I wrote about a day which started out “Today, I woke up this morning to ‘one of those days’. I knew it was going to be ‘one of those days’ because I went past the hallway bathroom and found three signs taped on the door:
1) DANGER: Biochemical Neurotoxins DANGER
2) DANGER: Biohazard Stupidity
3) DO NOT ENTER: Quarantine Warning
Let me explain: Last night Naomi’s (17) running shoes were stinking up her room. Tasha (14) and Sarah (19) were complaining about the smell. Naomi washed them and sprayed them with ‘fabreeze’ but they still smelled so she hid them under the sink in the hallway bathroom and Isaac (16) hung up the signs.” The day got progressively more chaotic with trying to locate all the Planet of the Ape movies to have a Planet of the Apes movie marathon. I wrote it all down in my journal.
Then there are other days I don’t care to write at all. (I don’t like those days.) So I came up with an idea on how to keep an even keel. Instead of overwhelming myself with the idea of writing all the details every day for an hour, I think to myself, I will only write five minutes every other day and leave it at that. If I write more fine, if I don’t that’s fine too.
I like to record the funny things that my children have done. When I am depressed, those writings can really cheer me up. Then there were times I recorded unusual happenings that didn’t seem to be funny at the time, but now are priceless. For example, one year in the first week of school, (we homeschool) I recorded the complaints of my children whose ages spanned from 3 to 15. I had run to the store for a few minutes and when I came back this is what I heard:
1. “Nobody is doing school work.”
2. “Isaac didn’t want to cut the lawn.” (My oldest son, 13 at the time)
3. Tasha and Jena (neighbor child) were cheating at kickball.” (both 11)
4. “Tasha didn’t want to cut the lawn.” (They were supposed to take turns)
5. “Sarah (15) hit Caleb.” (8)
6. “Caleb hit her back.”
7. “Tasha hit Sarah with her PEZ dispenser.”
8. “Isaac locked Caleb in the closet.”
9. “Naomi (14) is touching everyone’s stuff.”
10. “Everyone is yelling at Naomi.”
11. “Naomi was walking backwards and ran into Sarah.”
12. “Naomi shot Lydia (3) with a rubber band.”
That entry really makes me laugh. It’s so typical of what children will say about each other when they are annoyed. I never would have remembered all those details if I had not written them down.
My life is so full and my writing reflects that lifestyle. I don’t record all the mundane things I do but I write about what is important to me at the time. Sometimes hanging up bed sheets on a cool windy day is important to me so I write about that. Sometimes swinging gently in my hammock under the trees with my 3-year-old is important to me so I write about that. After I do my weekly biking, sometimes I’ll write my thoughts for the morning. One of the best things about writing is that I’ll always have the pages of my thoughts kept safe for reading on another day.
Not only are there snippets of my children’s life in my journal, but my goals for the year and my spiritual insights are recorded there as well. Writing down my feelings about world events and what is important to me in my life is therapeutic. I feel much better after writing for a half an hour and can face the day of peanut butter and jelly faces, a sink full of dirty dishes and homework to correct. I wouldn’t trade my life for anyone in the world and I have the personal writings in my journal to prove it.
Labels:
Relationships,
Retired Bloggers
This blog is late
by Terry Deighton, Tardy Guest Blogger
This blog is late. Liz went out of town with her family for the weekend and asked me to write her blog on Sunday. I did think of it on Sunday, but I never did get it done. Let me tell you about the times I thought about it on Sunday.
I thought about writing this blog on the way to my Ward Council meeting at church. I had made waffles for my family and gotten ready for church, but I had not thought to write this before I left home at 11:15. Then I started thinking about the fact that I had to report to the other church leaders that my committee hadn't been able to get together due to family needs and illness. The luau we are planning is in less than three weeks, and we haven't actually firmed up any of the plans. One of the men in the meeting did know of some Polynesian dancers in the next town over, so that was good.
I thought about writing this blog during sacrament meeting in which my son gave his report to the ward on his mission. He asked his two sisters to speak with him. They all did excellent jobs, and the growth of my son was so evident. He left here a fun loving, good boy and came back a fun loving, spiritually mature young man. His sisters demonstrated poise and confidence. Well, Renae did refer to a scripture in Helium, but she corrected herself (Helaman) and mentioned that she was a bit nervous. Otherwise, they all three spoke as if they did it all the time. I thought about this blog again while I walked down the hall and thanked everyone for saying how wonderful my children are.
I didn't think about writing this blog in the hour I had at home. I was making dinner for the seven people who live here right now. My husband and the three young adults had raced from our ward to the young adult ward, so they could attend Relief Society and Priesthood meetings and so my husband could count the donations from the members of that ward.
I thought about writing this blog when I was at the stake center to hear my son report on his mission to the high council. It was fun to realize that I had known most of those men for many years. There's something very satisfying about having lived someplace long enough to have old friends even if you don't see them very often. My son stood there and spoke fluently and with conviction about his service to the Lord. Then they asked us to go around the room and shake hands with everyone in attendance. My bishop was there on stake welfare business, so that made it all the better.
Alas, I did not think about writing this blog when I finally got home after 6:30. You would think I would have remembered after all of the times that I thought about it during the day. Why is it that we think about things when we can't do anything about it, but when we have time, our minds just blank out? Maybe it's just me that it happens to, but it happens all of the time. People suggest using a day planner, but I know that I would just forget to look at it. I am grateful for the wonderful day I had on Sunday, but I am sorry I forgot to write Liz's blog until Tuesday morning. Now I have to go to work, so I will leave you to think about what you forgot to do over the weekend.
This blog is late. Liz went out of town with her family for the weekend and asked me to write her blog on Sunday. I did think of it on Sunday, but I never did get it done. Let me tell you about the times I thought about it on Sunday.
I thought about writing this blog on the way to my Ward Council meeting at church. I had made waffles for my family and gotten ready for church, but I had not thought to write this before I left home at 11:15. Then I started thinking about the fact that I had to report to the other church leaders that my committee hadn't been able to get together due to family needs and illness. The luau we are planning is in less than three weeks, and we haven't actually firmed up any of the plans. One of the men in the meeting did know of some Polynesian dancers in the next town over, so that was good.
I thought about writing this blog during sacrament meeting in which my son gave his report to the ward on his mission. He asked his two sisters to speak with him. They all did excellent jobs, and the growth of my son was so evident. He left here a fun loving, good boy and came back a fun loving, spiritually mature young man. His sisters demonstrated poise and confidence. Well, Renae did refer to a scripture in Helium, but she corrected herself (Helaman) and mentioned that she was a bit nervous. Otherwise, they all three spoke as if they did it all the time. I thought about this blog again while I walked down the hall and thanked everyone for saying how wonderful my children are.
I didn't think about writing this blog in the hour I had at home. I was making dinner for the seven people who live here right now. My husband and the three young adults had raced from our ward to the young adult ward, so they could attend Relief Society and Priesthood meetings and so my husband could count the donations from the members of that ward.
I thought about writing this blog when I was at the stake center to hear my son report on his mission to the high council. It was fun to realize that I had known most of those men for many years. There's something very satisfying about having lived someplace long enough to have old friends even if you don't see them very often. My son stood there and spoke fluently and with conviction about his service to the Lord. Then they asked us to go around the room and shake hands with everyone in attendance. My bishop was there on stake welfare business, so that made it all the better.
Alas, I did not think about writing this blog when I finally got home after 6:30. You would think I would have remembered after all of the times that I thought about it during the day. Why is it that we think about things when we can't do anything about it, but when we have time, our minds just blank out? Maybe it's just me that it happens to, but it happens all of the time. People suggest using a day planner, but I know that I would just forget to look at it. I am grateful for the wonderful day I had on Sunday, but I am sorry I forgot to write Liz's blog until Tuesday morning. Now I have to go to work, so I will leave you to think about what you forgot to do over the weekend.
May 29, 2007
I need a holiday after the holiday
by Terri Wagner
For some insane reason, I always find myself overbooked on a holiday like Memorial Day, Labor Day, and even when I take vacation. I always need an extra day to recuperate from the holiday. One year, I actually took my sage advice and scheduled a day off after every holiday I knew I would be busy. It worked beautifully, however, I have never repeated it.
I thought I did a smart thing this holiday. I worked on domestic concerns Saturday. Got everything done. Fasted Sunday because I'll have company next week. Rested mostly on Sunday, got up Monday and headed into fun activities. By 9 pm, I was exhausted, and sluggish this morning, mourning the fact that I drive 50 miles one way each day to get to work, wondering if a nice simple Wal-Mart job might suit me better. I wanted one more day.
I think next year I am going to schedule things so I take the day after a holiday. The more I remember about that year, the more sensible it seems. But maybe that's because I have two Chinese articles to edit (they don't understand English all that well, and I'm not that good in higher math, ha), several layouts to proof and approve, not to mention the regular column copy we do. Suddenly, the whole concept of that extra day off sounds heavenly. Wonder if I'll remember this come next January when planning out my vacation time?! My guess is I won't.
For some insane reason, I always find myself overbooked on a holiday like Memorial Day, Labor Day, and even when I take vacation. I always need an extra day to recuperate from the holiday. One year, I actually took my sage advice and scheduled a day off after every holiday I knew I would be busy. It worked beautifully, however, I have never repeated it.
I thought I did a smart thing this holiday. I worked on domestic concerns Saturday. Got everything done. Fasted Sunday because I'll have company next week. Rested mostly on Sunday, got up Monday and headed into fun activities. By 9 pm, I was exhausted, and sluggish this morning, mourning the fact that I drive 50 miles one way each day to get to work, wondering if a nice simple Wal-Mart job might suit me better. I wanted one more day.
I think next year I am going to schedule things so I take the day after a holiday. The more I remember about that year, the more sensible it seems. But maybe that's because I have two Chinese articles to edit (they don't understand English all that well, and I'm not that good in higher math, ha), several layouts to proof and approve, not to mention the regular column copy we do. Suddenly, the whole concept of that extra day off sounds heavenly. Wonder if I'll remember this come next January when planning out my vacation time?! My guess is I won't.
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