Continued Story

Story Continues:

Clarissa joins the race full force and of course Joe is noticing, and liking it. Janet, a little stunned, doesn’t know quite what to do. Should she back down? Should she continue the chase? Deep down, she’s smart enough to know how this ends if the current patterns of behavior continue, but at the same time, she still is in the running. After all, just last week Joe did hold her hand. Joe was regularly flirtatious. And what about the great conversations on the phone lasted well over an hour? Ya know what? It Didn’t count. Joe was really interested in Clarissa the whole time.

How did Janet know? The last great phone conversation she had with Joe ended up being a coaching session consisting of her reassuring Joe that Clarissa would definitely say yes if he asked her out and he needs to just ask instead of hanging around all the time. Lame, for Janet. More lameness occurred at the end of the said coaching conversation when I… I mean Janet told Joe that the whole buddy/flirty friend thing would have to end from that point on because she (Janet) didn’t want to be in the middle of things. Joe didn’t get it at first, then after Janet explained it in simple terms, he got it. The “more lameness” part enters here. Right after the conversation ended, as in they hung up the phone, Janet sent him a text of some conversation related info she forgot to tell him. It was nothing big, but it had to be sent and a text sufficed. His response text was “What will I do without you?”. What a stab to the aching, longing girl’s heart. Joe knew Janet liked him. Why would he tug at that girl’s poor heartstrings like that? Joe. Keep your mouth shut Joe. Please? Oh life. What a ride you are.

This story (actually it was pretty much a journal entry) is dramatic and pathetic. I wrote it the other day and have had a good laugh reading it since. I'll say it once again. "Oh, life". And I move forward. It's a good thing I can laugh at such situations. Besides there's no time left for wallowing. My heart is now occupied with other pressing troubles...

One of my girls is due to deliver her baby today, March 31. I don't know what it's like to be a mother but I think about her constantly and worry. How is she going to take care of her baby? She didn't even know how a baby exits the mother's womb, how a baby comes out, how a baby is born until she was shown a video in the nurse's office not too long ago. Is there anything else I can do at this to help prepare her for the dramatic life change that is about to take place at any given moment? She is so sweet and loves babies but what will she do when her baby is screaming with a fever of 100 degrees? Will she remember how to read the label found on the back of a medicine box? We've been practicing the skill for two weeks... but will any of that stick? She has no clue how her world is about to change forever physically, emotionally, mentally, and etc. Oh how she's on my mind and in my heart.

Oh, Joe.

Story Time:

Janet and Clarissa are great friends with ties unseverable. Clarissa is wonderful. She has many friends and graciously includes Janet in the circle. One day Janet meets Joe from the circle of friends and decides she is liking that fine young fellow, whereupon the fond emotions of springtime and fancy enter her heart and take the center stage. Janet is vocal about this buck but not boisterous about the whole affair. Love and springtime are such a magical mix that spin a girl round throughout the day. Oh how they flutter in the heart of a young lady (okay, Janet wasn't THAT lilty over Joe). Still, Janet likes Joe. Shortly after the newfound fancy takes flight, Clarissa takes interest in Joe too. Dum dum dum.

Pause and Question:

Is it okay for Clarissa to jump in on the pursuit and run alongside in the chase of almighty Joe? Do you overrun your friend in pursuit of your ideal prospect? All is fair in love and war, right? And after all, Joe came from Clarissa’s circle of friends and not Janet’s, right?

Continue:

Clarissa joins the race full force and of course Joe is noticing, and liking it. Janet, a little stunned, doesn’t know quite what to do. Should she back down? Should she continue the chase? Deep down, she’s smart enough to know how this ends if the current patterns of behavior continue, but at the same time, Joe did hold her hand. Joe was regularly flirtatious. And what about the great conversations on the phone lasted well over an hour? Ya know what? That stuff doesn’t count. Joe has really been interested in Clarissa the whole time.

Stay tuned:

More story to come. What will these love affairs bring!?

Fitting For Today

Laughter

One of the most, the very most, soul-satisfying feelings I experience in life happens to be drinking in my mom's gut-deep, face-scrunching, total-body-encompassing episodes of laughter. She's been doing it more often lately than she ever has in the past. I love it. Its more satisfying for my soul than soaking in sunshine or singing in the shower. Speaking of singing in the shower, I'm so out of the habit. I can't believe I've been off the bandwagon for so long. Tomorrow morning, I'm singing in the shower.

Lessons From Lucky

I was running an errand not to long ago and came upon Lucky grocery store. Oh man. I haven't seen one of those since I was a youngin so it was so very nostalgic to walk in those front doors. As a child, we used to visit Lucky for all those grocery needs. I learned priceless life lessons there. Of course this present store I found was in a completely different state and looked completely different inside from the original. No matter. Let me share some incalculable wisdom obtained solely from this franchise.

Lesson 1: Avoid cages of balls at all costs. When Boo was little-little, one glance in the ball direction would result in her squirming and bugging till she got those idolized balls. As a reader, you might suggest that a quick swat on the bottom would have done well to deter her insistence? You don't understand. This girl was determined. No swat could stop her devotion to the glorified, bouncy-ball cage of splendor. I remember having to stand there till she got it all out of her system (maybe sometimes I played a little with the balls too). Needles to say, we eventually got smart and let her carry a ball around as we shopped then snuck it away at the checkout. At any rate, stay away from cages of bouncy balls!

Lesson 2: Mom is the coolest and will let you mess around with the blood-pressure arm machine near the pharmacy every time we pick up a prescription.

Lesson 3: If you're ever in a hurry to finish making a delectable dinner for guests, and forget that you don't have any OREGANO in your cupboard, don't drive Erica over to Lucky, shove her out of the car with the directions to "get some, and get it quick" while you wait outside. If you do choose such a routine, the following will occur...

Erica will run in the store to the spice section all flustered because she has to hurry. She'll scramble over to the looming wall of spices and look for ARAGANO. She'll search and search. Knowing that she's flustered, she'll search once more thinking "Slow down girl. You missed it. Hurry, slow down!" After failing to find it, the thought will occur "Duh, maybe it's spelled URAGANO!"

The search process will repeat with lack of success only to be followed by the next somewhat doubtful thought "Duh, maybe it's spelled ERAGANO!" Mind you, the whole time she'll feel some impeding pressure because her mother (still sitting outside in the car) who was really frustrated about the setback is now probably ferocious because the time keeps ticking and ticking and ticking (sort of like when Boo would play with the balls).

After the whole ERAGANO search fails, she'll empty-handedly run like the dickens out to the car, full of trembling courage to approach her exasperated mother. The conversation will go something like this:

Mother: Where is it!!??

Erica: They don't have any here.

Mother: What do you mean? Yes they do!!!

Erica: I looked over and over. I couldn't find it. I checked for all the different spellings.

Mother: O-R-E-G-A-N-O?

Erica: Oh.

Erica will then run back in and buy the OREGANO in less than a heartbeat. Many life-lessons can be learned from this little heart-warming (or should I say heart-boiling) story like make sure you have your ingredients before you start cooking or be a patient mother or don't shove innocent daughters out of car doors while you wait outside. Mind you, those are all very good noble lessons to learn (Mom) but the one I will never forget is that if you need some spice, O-R-E-G-A-N-O is the definite way to go.

Lesson 4: After that last OREGANO lesson you might be thinking my mom was a feisty one, right? Now, now. She's a gem I tell you. Just not in that story, or the time when we were little kids (that naturally quarrel, which was what we were doing one day) and she locked us outside, dripping with sweat, while she in turn swam right in front of our tortured faces. But that's another story altogether. At any rate, this last lesson I'll share is a positive one that shaped my mentality as a young woman (not that I'm old now)...

The checkout lady at Lucky that day was a grueling meanie. Picture a middle-aged woman fraught with frown lines and a furrowed brow. Now picture a little bit of saliva drooling down her chin as she growled. Any question asked of her was responded to with with a tight remark. Basically, she sucked the happiness out of each customer as they wanderingly approached checkout. This woman was a doozie. Bummer that we (the kids and Mom) went through her line. No worry though, we made it through the line and even out the doors.

We all had two bits to say about that rude behavior as we walked to the car. How could she be so rude?! What was her problem?! How dare she?! I was all worked up and in a slight huff when mom commented "Maybe her dog died this morning." What!!?? It was a statement that jerked me into deep thought and feeling. All of a sudden I felt, what was it? Compassion? Surely her dog didn't die. Mom is just so corny sometimes. But maybe, maybe her dad died or she needed money really bad to pay for surgery or.. or.. or..

I've since talked to my mom about that day and she doesn't have the slightest recollection of it (I can tell you though that she definitely remembers the OREGANO incident). There were a couple of lessons that can be taken from that walk back to the car but the one I'm ever grateful for, that has often shaped and reshaped my thinking is this: People act all kinds of ways in all kinds of situations, positive and negative. Rather than reacting instantly, take a step back and remember who that person is, who I am, and where we are going. By doing so, often brash judgements and thoughtless reactions/behaviors are not only avoided, but that invitation of compassion and a sense of understanding connects individuals, allowing them to be more on the same page, at one with another. What a way to avert the mumbo jumbo!

So there you have it. Lessons from Lucky. Pretty cool grocery store, huh? Do you have any grocery experiences? Reminiscing has me now remembering all sorts of grocery goodness. Oh, what fun it is to shop.

Viewpoints

1. Kindergarten Jess, mentioned before HERE (number 3) and HERE (the whisper story), started chatting today at lunch about going to Disneyland, which will happen for her as soon as everyone (2 little boys and sister w/autism) at home are potty trained. The conversation moved on to how her autistic sister Jen, when asked what you do in the potty, says "poo" or "pee". Jess was excited Jen could respond to the question, which is very positive as she hardly communicates verbally. The end of our conversation went like this:

Me: Well it'll be nice when you get to heaven and she'll be able to talk to you. She'll probably tell you "thank you" for giving her so many hugs (I've seen Jess give her quite a few hugs).

Jess (with raised eyebrows): Actually, I think she'll say sorry.

Me: Why?

Jess (wide-eyed): Last time she gave me a hug, it was too tight.

2. Today, I enlisted aid from some naughty fourth-graders to help me transfer class sets of textbooks from classrooms to the library. Those guys needed to stay busy while the rest of the 4th grade classes were gone on a field trip to The Grand Canyon. Anyway, as we hauled books back and forth, those guys and one girl kept acting like they were about to have a heart attack from the "heavy" labor. I think they honestly believed it was strenuous, no matter how significantly I let them lighten their loads. I thought it was funny that transporting a pile of 3 teacher manuals could evoke painful moans and require a water break upon delivery. I told them that this work would build character and muscle, and to take a look at their muscles now, so they could see how much they'd grown when they checked them out at the end of our painful task. They sort of believed me (the muscle part) and the moaning died down a bit after they showed each other the "before" muscles. I was entertained the whole morning while watching them lug books around like they weighed 100 pounds.

3. So the mini life lesson I got today from the above stories combined:

Like Jess, I'm sure that sometimes when I view present situations through my scope of eyesight and understanding, there is another pair of eyes from above that twinkle, and have twinkled before, with a knowing laugh. Like my fourth graders, I will have to do difficult tasks. I've already had such tasks that I've moaned about and thought were going to almost kill me. In fact, I can think of times that I'd been reminded that character and muscle were being added upon. Past loads, that seemed iron cast and impossible really were completely doable, though I was wanting the nature of the featherweight business, and man, even though I don't have a six-pack now, you should check out my guns.

Something of Dreams

A while back, during one of my literacy classes, my teacher briefly posted a quote on the overhead. It was intriguing and I copied it down quick so I could ponder it at a later time:

"It's in the morning for most of us. It's that time, those few seconds when we're coming out of sleep, but we're not really awake yet, for those few moments we're something more primitive than what we're about to become, we have just slept the sleep of our distant ancestors, and something of them and their world still clings to us. For those few moments, we are unformed, uncivilized. We are not the people we know as ourselves, but creatures more in tune with a tree than a keyboard. We are untilted, unnamed, natural, suspended between was and will be."

-STARGIRL by Jerry Spinelli

I thought it was interesting. I liked turning it over in my head a couple of times. Just the other day, I read through a speech given by Richard G. Scott. You can read the whole thing HERE. One of his comments that caught my attention reminded me of the above quote from STARGIRL:

"One of the most memorable and powerful patterns of communication by the Spirit is through dreams. I have learned that when the transition from being fully asleep to being fully awake is almost imperceptible, it is a signal that the Lord has taught something very important through a dream."

Hm. I do like finding little connections between other's ideas and then comparing those to my personal life. Not only is it enlightening to identify those pieces that fit into my personal experiences, but I like to be on the lookout for/figure out those other ideas that I haven't quite fully realized, if they even are to be.

P.S. The polk-a-dot flower background was getting to be a bit much to look at. I was starting to feel pretty allergic to the whole situation. So, back to plain and simple.

On the Mind...

1. On the way home tonight, I saw a guy get pulled over by a cop. I hate it when that happens. I felt so bad for the helpless chap and I didn't even know him.

2. I love donuts and ice cream and chocolate eclairs and cheesecake.

3. I have a chancre (see definition HERE) under my top lip and it's causing my lip to swell. Gross! I haven't had a chancre since I was little. What's the deal? Get it off me!

4. I'm so close to the end of the semester. Just hang on.

5. I really miss the temple. I've been every week since I went through in October and two weeks off seems like forever. I'm so grateful its only 10 minutes away and will be open next week.

6. I have always planned on graduating and continuing my education, but I also hoped that I'd have kids by now, not in pursuit of a career. It's weird to start planning for one but I'm excited. There's a fulfilling satisfaction obtained on the job that can't be obtained by any other means.

7. I really want to go on a mission. I've wanted it so bad for so long but it just isn't right. In my mind, it's the perfect thing for me to do, yet I just can't get the go-ahead. The whole prosessing of the situation is like meeting a guy, working the charm, then waiting for the treasured phone to ring... and he just doesn't call. Argg. Oh, I wish I could go. At any rate, I'm grateful for personal revelation and the confidence that comes from living in line with it. Though I'm not on a "mission", I'm grateful for the opportunities I have in my daily life to help build others around me.

8. Also, guys can be so dumb sometimes.

Caught Off Guard and Headed for the Campout

Over the past couple of months, I've felt on a couple of occasions that life would be moving forward. Ha ha! Of course it moves forward. What I mean is that I felt that a new stage/change is coming on. The brief inspirations weren't anything specific, or grand declarations, but quiet small feelings that snuck in and out and left me to carry out my daily doings on the lookout. Even while on the lookout, the changes have taken/are taking place have come so subtly. This process has been quiet and patient and slow, but its happening. On some occasions I've quietly observed and discovered them and on others, I've been caught off guard.

I was out with some friends not too long ago. Midst the whole sha-bang, I felt a spark of the old fire that's been lying dormant in me for so long. So long ago it left me; that period of time, when I did have it, became like a dream. Oh, how I've longed to get that back. Don't get me wrong, now. I've been productive and doing well, feeling gratitude and joy in life, but this old friend of a feeling was that of laughter mixed with light and excitement. Its the delight felt before pulling a clever prank with expert mischievousness. It's the twinkle in my eye. For so long I'd wondered if it might be dead and gone for forever. It couldn't possibly be, right? When time seemingly passes at such great length, those thoughts do cross the mind.

Anyway, it was a weird feeling to have fly through me. I felt a little uncomfortable, not bad uncomfortable, just uncomfortable. I was caught off guard. The feeling was so brief. A flicker of a moment. I love to be caught off guard and that was the best one in a long while. Since then those sparks have started to smolder and grow brighter. The fire's coming back. I'm thinking there's going to be a camp-out soon.

Deep Thoughts continued

In honor of my great great great Irish grandfather named Patrick, who many many many years ago was born on this day, I give you a Saint Patrick-ish Day Deep Thought plus extras:

"Children need encouragement. So if a kid gets an answer right, tell him it was a lucky guess. That way, he develops a good, lucky feeling."

"Dad always thought laughter was the best medicine, which I guess was why several of us died of tuberculosis."

"If you ever catch on fire, try to avoid seeing yourself in the mirror, because I bet that's what really throws you into a panic."

"I remember we were all horrified to see Grandpa up on the roof with his Superman cape on. 'Get down!' yelled Uncle Lou. 'Don't move!' screamed Grandma. But Grandpa wouldn't listen. He walked to the edge of the roof and stuck out his arms, like he was going to fly. I forget what happened after that."

"If you were a gladiator in older days, I bet the inefficiency of how the gladiator fights were organized and scheduled would just drive you up a wall."

Aunt Katy, there are too many good ones to put in a post. I agonized over which ones to leave out; I just couldn't decide so I'm going to mail you a copy of all of them.

Happy St. Patrick's Day to all!

Deeper Thoughts

I found Deeper Thoughts by Jack Handey at D.I. the other day. I love those bite-sized inspirations. I'll share a few nuggets with you now and then some others in a later post. Here they are:

"I think a good novel would be where a bunch of men on a ship are looking for a whale. They look and look, but you know what? They never find him. And you know why they never find him? It doesn't say. The book leaves it up to you, the reader, to decide. Then, at the very end, there's a page that you can lick and it tastes like Kool-Aid."

"It's easy to sit there and say you'd like to have more money. And I guess that's what I like about it. It's easy. Just sitting there, rocking back and forth, wanting that money."

"Instead of trying to build newer and bigger weapons of destruction, mankind should be thinking about getting more use out of the weapons we already have."

"To me, it's a good idea to always carry two sacks of something when you walk around. That way, if anybody says, 'Hey, can you give me a hand?' you can say, 'Sorry, got these sacks.'"

"Whenever someone asks me to define love, I ususally think for a minute, then I spin around and pin the guy's arm behind his back. Now who's asking the questions?"

And one of my very favorites:

"If you ever drop your keys into a river of molten lava, let 'em go, because, man, they're gone."

Phone Gnomes

Time flies away so quickly. So does my cell phone. I rarely have it. Even when I go out and about I forget to take it. It isn't uncommon for me to lose it and not find it for a day or two. I'm just not a big cell phone fan. I think I was 20 or 21 before I even got one and only did so because my family insisted. One day, at the mall, my sister and mom led me into a cell phone store. I thought they needed pick something up but as we entered my sister informed me, "Erica, it's time." I resisted that instant but a week later found myself in possession of one.

With that being said I'll present to you that which happens to my phone when I lose/leave it laying around the house. Two phone gnomes seem to find it all the time. Often enough, when I retrieve that precious, fine piece of plastic, I find it has been graced with a different wallpaper. Here are some of the photo backdrop surprises:

Phone Gnome James

Phone Gnome Las

Oh how I love my phone gnomes!

Celebrate Good Times. Come On.

The other night I was driving in the car listening to Queen's "We Will Rock You" and out of nowhere I thought "This has got to be played at my funeral." Whoah. I don't no where it came from and it might not make sense to you but I was definitely feelin it.

Last night sis Las (pronounced Loz) showed me a youtube video of a legitimate wedding procession. Wow. Exactly what I was feelin/envisioning for my earthly departure, only wedding style. For a few brief seconds I thought "Is this a go for major life event number two? Yes. Done deal." Technically the wedding would be event one and the funeral would be number two, a done deal, because, well, I'd be done. In all reality I for sure would never have this happen for my funeral or wedding but I definitely can't say the thoughts didn't cross my mind.... and heart. I was feelin it.

Are you feelin it?

Do-be-do-be-do!

Holy Smokes! This is a long post! I foolishly laid down to rest/think/ponder last night at 7 p.m. I foolishly woke up at 9 p.m. Who does that? To top it off, I chugged some pop as soon as I got up. Needless to say, I later lay in bed trying to go to sleep when I just couldn't take the lying-still-with-jitters-in-the-dark. No more! Regardless of heading back to work and school the next day, I had to get out of bed and jot down the thoughts swimming in my head. I'll blame it on that darn sugary pop. Anyway. My jotting got going and as I had lots of wakefulness, I let it rip out on the key board. I hope it makes sense because once 12:45 rolled around, I was losing patience for organizing my thoughts. So, what you see is what you get. I hope it makes sense. Mostly, I hope it makes sense for me because I'll go back and read it one day and it better make sense. So there. Enjoy, if you dare read the mini-novel of thoughts digested during the early morning hours...

So today in Young Women’s (I’m an advisor for 16-18 year-old girls at church) the lesson had something to do with the effect that we can/how to come to know Christ. One of the leaders made a comment about the way Christ treated people. She gave the example of how he treated “the adulterous woman” when she was brought before Him and the other men (click HERE for the quick story). A thought struck me… For the Savior to be able to treat her in such a manner, with such dignity, He probably didn’t view her or classify or know her as “the adulterous woman”. He didn’t recognize her by her sin. Did He see her as the woman, the spirit that she was before descending to this lone and dreary wasteland called Earth? Did He see her not as an adulteress, but as a divine daughter of His Father? Did He see her in her future full potential, a perfect individual, a ruler and future God? How easy and quick it is in human nature to evaluate/judge a person by immediate or present circumstances, circumstances for which we have such a narrow and sometimes blinded scope of perspective.

I got to further thinking… If we are to become as our Father, we must do as He does to become as He is. Logical, right? One of my childhood friends gave a speech at his high school graduation. I wasn’t there, but saw a video of it much later. His speech was much anticipated and ended up being very brief. I haven’t forgotten it. To begin, he quoted a famous philosopher saying (in essence) that it is our actions that determine what/who we are. He then provided another philosopher’s counter statement saying (in essence) that our actions are determined or stem from who/what we are. He then quoted Scooby-Doo, yes Scooby-Doo, in a manner that in the moment seemed juvenile and irreverent for such a graduation setting. The statement he made was something to the affect of “Maybe the great philosopher Scooby-Doo said it right when he said ‘Do-be-do-be-do’.” His whole speech probably took a whole 2 or 3 min. The audience laughed and graduation went right on with the traditional procedures. I’ve since thought about that quick speech many a time.

There is a fine balance between doing -becoming/being and our doings stemming from that becoming/being. Did that make sense? It’s such an interrelated process (the Scooby-Doo connection made it visual for me). The adulterous woman was mid process of the do-be-do-be-do, and to think that the typifying savior for her turn of doing/being was the Savior who stood right before her. How fortunate for her, right? I find it interesting that the scriptures didn’t include a follow-up of what came from her experience. Did the woman take advantage of her opportunity, truly commune with her Lord, or was she relieved and thankful to get out of a stoning moving forward to carry on with her daily life without that crucial communion? Knowing her outcome wasn’t the intended point of the story, I guess. With the story ending in such a way, I think that I can easily fit myself into her place. Don’t I stand in that same manner before the Savior every Sunday as I, in earnest need, am presented with the opportunity to take the sacrament? Though I have the earnest need, do I wait in reverent anticipation for communion, or are my thoughts quick, trite, and right back on to my Monday to-do list at the flicker of thought? I may not commit adultery very often (all right, I don’t ever) but I do have the same opportunity as that “adulterous” woman to come before the Savior covered in dirt and sin. In fact, unlike the “adulteress”, it isn’t a once in a life-time opportunity for me. I can experience it every week. How blessed and fortunate I am. I wish I could be more instrumental in providing others with the opportunity to receive such numerous, priceless opportunities as I have to sit present before the Lord. I stand in awe that I have those opportunities at my fingertips not just once in a lifetime but every Sunday at 11 o’clock a.m.

To Do (Longterm List):

There are some important artists/concerts I need to see live before I die:

Mikhail Baryshnikov

Billy Joel

Neil Diamond

Nickel Creek

There are some important artists/concerts for which I'm going to have to die in order to see "live":

Michael Jackson

Louis Armstrong

Frank Sinatra

Gregory Hines

There are some important artists/concerts I hope I never see regardless of life status:

Air Supply

Michael Bolton

Kenny G

Dan Fogelberg

There are some authors I'd give an arm and a leg to as a few questions of/talk to:

Carson McCullers

Pearl S. Buck

John Steinbeck

There are some places I must live:

A few select locations back east

Nowhere cold or snowy

South America

There are some extended vacations I must take:

The Louvre and other scattered art museums (2 months)

Washington D.C. (1 month)

Peru/Machu Pichu (3 weeks)

Africa (1 month)

There are some graduate degrees I must obtain:

Children's Literature

Early American History

Physics

There are some languages to master:

Hebrew

Spanish

English

There's more stuff to say but it's 11:23 and I'm tired and my brain is shutting down. You know what? I'm going to head off to bed. But before I go, do you have anything you'd like to do? Merry Christmas to all and to all a Goodnight!

Comical Discoveries

I love this quote here below and the book that it came from for that matter. I read it a couple of years ago while living in Provo. The book is entitled Invincible Louisa by Cornelia Meigs. It's a biography of Louisa May Alcott and it won the Newberry Medal in 1934. The book was simple, revealing, quick, and very enjoyable. As I read along, I was so fascinated by their lives and extreme circumstances of living. The quote/comment made in the book was stated in reference to the attitudes and living of the Alcott family during those times of hardship. It can be found on page 146. It is simply stated as thus:

There is no place where something comic cannot be discovered.

So true. So true. Don't some of the funniest moments happen in some of the most trying times? If you've ever seen the movie Steel Magnolias the phrase "Here. Hit Wheezer!" is a prime example of what I'm talking about. Do have a funny moment from a serious/trying time to share? Don't be shy. Say it via comment!

The Name Game

Note: I started out writing a post then it turned to a conglomeration of thoughts, sort of like a stream of conscious writing. Be warned. It might not all flow or fit together perfectly.

I get to know a lot of kids working at an elementary school that has hundreds upon hundreds of students. I've been at this school for awhile. This year marks the fourth year of my employment, I think. Anyway, I've filled so many different positions/roles that I've worked with tons of students. Every once and a while, a child will come up and say "Hi Erica!" after I exchange a hello, the inevitable question follows "Do you remember my name?" At this point working there, I usually don't remember the student. It sounds terrible, but there are hundreds of them. I spend hardly any time with many of them, but still, every time this happens a part of me desperately searches deep into the rusty storage files of names. Most times the question is posed, I feel the child imploring "Do you really know me?" The child is usually so searching that I feel like he/she can see right into my insides for that connection.

It is such a very present and real, almost tangible need to have people "know" me. Family, friends, and even strangers share those connections at times. I think such connections are part of what make us human.

It is easy to see people as objects sometimes. When such views/attitudes arise, those "knowing" connections are lost and the possibility for such is blocked. No wonder the first great commandment is to love the Lord your God. When we truly do, we cannot see people as objects.

Just the other night I was sitting at the counter with family members and a conversation about Christmas presents was being had. Though the recipient of the gift was right in the room with us, much unspoken conversation went on. It was almost eery (but not in a spooky way) to be able to converse so much with such little spoken word. There has to be those deeper connections for that to happen.

Sometimes there are longing feelings of loneliness or feelings of joy that even the most intimate of friends and family cannot "know". At times when I feel that way, I am drawn to prayer. At those times when I feel a longing to be "known", I am turned in/to a process of coming to know our Father in Heaven. The focus turns from me needing to be known to actively communing seeking rather to know instead of being known. This scripture comes to mind:

3 And this is ^alife ^beternal, that they might ^cknow thee the only true ^dGod, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast ^esent.

I'm not saying it isn't good to have the need of being known. It is natural and a good thing but maybe that need to be known is best met by seeking to know? Hm. I read this today and was grateful for the guidance of how to better "know" the Savior. It's all so misty in my mind so if you don't get it, well, I don't have the firmest grasp either. I'm still trying to understand the connections.

Back to names. I've been having random thoughts that aren't yet solidly formed but they all deal with names. First, as a baby born of parents who are members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, a name and blessing is given officially at church. Names are important. A name is the label of you, the representation of who you are. Second, when we are baptized, we covenant "that we are willing to take upon us the name of the Son". Interesting. The Son is known by many names. When we make that covenant, we covenant willingness to take upon us those names? Well, they all refer to Him and are representative of aspects of his being as a whole, but it's interesting to consider those names that we are willing to represent. From there, the journey continues to other times and places that names are dealt with, but I'll just leave it at that.

In connection with wanting to be "known". There is also wanting to be heard vs. listening. Chew on that.

All of these thoughts are random and a bit messy but there you go. There is so much to learn and so little time!

Irritated

I don't know why I keep using the word "jazzed" lately. It's really irritating. I don't like the feel of it and it's especially distasteful to say it out loud. Let me give you an example of it's usage: "I'm so jazzed I get my Wednesday classes off this week!" Bleh! It makes me feel like a headache is coming on every time I use it. One other word that has been bothering me lately is the word "tickled", as in "I'm so tickled that you are coming to visit". AAahh! Why do I continue to use these ill choices of words? I wish they would leave my vocabulary bank alone. Scram! Git!

On the other hand, I just can't seem to get enough of the phrase "pleased as punch". I look for any opportunity available to employ it's use. I can't help but give a wide grin when I say it. Some other words I like to say/hear are regal, snack, and carnivorous.

Why do I have little word quirks? Surely there are word quirks in others. What are words you like and dislike?

Oh Snap! Oh Snap!

There are certain care-free idiosyncrasies that elementary school children exhibit. No matter where you go, you'll find the same in any elementary school. I love it when I catch a child mid-idiosyncrasy. Doing so allows me to bask in that carefree state and then carry a little bit of that feeling on for the rest of the day. There are many, many idiosyncrasies of children, but here are my favorite carefree/trying to learn carefree ones:

Skipping

Skipping at full speed

Skipping so fast that tripping is inevitable

Whistling a clear, loud tune

Just whistling

Barely whistling

Blowing air, trying to whistle

Casually walking around with hands in pockets

Pulling treasures out of pockets

Whistling with hands in pockets

Whistling with hands in pockets while skipping (Just Kidding)

Snapping

Trying to snap

Some of these carry on into adulthood you say? Why yes, they do. Hopefully you're not the one skipping so fast that tripping is inevitable, but then again, if I'm around, maybe, hopefully you are. O.K. In all seriousness do you do any of these? At any rate, I'm definitely going to have to post other types of idiosyncrasies. These are just my favorite, care-free ones. Did I miss any other major carefree ones?

Scripture/Thought for the Day

As a counselor at a youth conference, I attended with the youth a musical performance. It was accompanied by a slideshow of The Reflections of Christ. As the music was performed, the pictures moved along in sync. I had seen the original Reflections of Christ works prior to the conference so the slideshow wasn’t anything new, but at one point during the performance I was struck by one of the images. The particular work depicted Christ standing above a kneeling blind man. I was instantly fixated on the grip that the blind man had on his Savior. This was not a grip of desperation, but a grip holding firmly with knowledge of whom it was he clung to and what it meant to hold on with firm faith. He knew who Jesus was, and not by physical sight either. Unexpectedly, tears formed on the rims of my eyelids. I knew that man. I knew that grip. I knew his need. I realize that art is subject to the viewer. As I saw in that representation a man who recognized the Savior and knew to cling to Him, not in desperation but in resolution with rock solid faith permeated by hope and desire, another viewer will experience alternate insights and feelings.

Sometimes life experiences occur that move, change, turn, deepen, lift, carry, sustain, and awaken our inside in ways that words fail to accurately express. Viewing that picture at that particular time stirred some of those deepened feelings. There was moving with in me, and I didn’t understand completely what I was feeling inside.

Time has a way of allowing us to process experiences and grow in understanding. Time pressed forward about a year and a half and I found myself taking my grandparents to visit the original Reflections of Christ exhibit that had again been put on display at the Mesa Art Center. The artist, Mark Mabry was present and handed out small picture cards of some of the selected works. Lo and behold, the blind-man-rock-solid-grip was one of them. On the back of the card, the scripture St. John 9: 2-3 was printed.

St. John 9:2-3

2. And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?

3. Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him.

I was impressed to find this scripture on the back. My prior experience with the work was even more individualized and significant now as I considered some personal inspiration received…

Many times in recent past years I have felt utterly helpless, plagued by my physical conditions that have had nothing to do with my choosing. The Savior shared the reason for the blind man’s condition, “that the works of God should be made manifest in him.” During my early struggles with Bipolar Disorder, before I even knew that I had it or what was going on with my mind and body, I would plead in prayer with my Father to know if I had done something wrong. If I had, shat was it that I’d done? Was I still doing something wrong? What is/was it!!!? Through my process of pressing forward, I have learned the error of my thinking. Just like the blind man, I hadn’t committed any “sin” that would result with this disorder I possessed. Genetics, chromosome 16 specifically, is the genetic weak link I am physically made of.

As I continued to consider the phrase “that the works of God should be made manifest in him,” another insight struck me. I’d previously considered the “works made manifest” to mean that the blind man would receive his sight by the miracle of Jesus’ restoring his sight. Now, as I saw myself in that blind man, I could see that the implications were also applicable inwardly. The Savior did physically heal the man. It was miraculous; the people did manifest Christ’s works in that physical manner but the lasting, necessary, miraculous, and essential work of the Savior was not that He was to go about healing the sick. His work is a deeper concerning matters of the inner man.

Individually, that blind, non-name-mentioned man had some important lessons to learn in life, just as I do. I don’t think that those changing, turning, deepening, lifting, carrying, sustaining, and awakening experiences were solely accomplished by his miraculous healing. If his physical healing was and is the way that Jesus’ works were/are accomplished, there are precious few that may find themselves recipients of that physical work. Could it have been that “the works made manifest” were personal for that man. Yes his eyes were physically healed and works were performed in front of an inquisitive crowd, but was it that man’s physical blindness that allowed him to truly see the works of God in his life?

I realize that I don’t know this man’s background. This man very well could have just been some random recipient of priesthood power, but I walked away with the understanding that I am that blind man. I have had a plaguing, physical blindness in my life. That blind man as portrayed in the picture had seen works of God in his life. His sure grip and humble kneeling portrayed that. This was before he was even healed. Likewise, it has been during those difficult, plaguing times that I have come to know my Father in Heaven and Savior more deeply. During my blindness His works were made manifest in my life in oh-so-individualized and specific ways. While my physical condition isn’t completely healed (though it is well-cared for now) I have received healing in ways that I didn’t see that I needed. I received some sight (I definitely don’t see all, but some). I have Bipolar Disorder and as I’ve sought, I have seen the works of God made manifest in my life in miraculous, individual, personal ways.

So I leave the scripture with you again:

St. John 9:2-3

2. And his disciples asked him, saying, Master, who did sin, this man, or his parents, that he was born blind?

3. Jesus answered, Neither hath this man sinned, nor his parents: but that the works of God should be made manifest in him.

Are you the blind man? Are the works of God made manifest in your life?

Here is a link for the Reflections of Christ Exhibit.

P.S. The blind man picture is number 10.