Steve & I just spent a glorious Labor Day weekend at portions of the Timpanogos Storytelling Festival, and I was inspired! We should be telling our stories. Unfortunately, my best thoughts come while driving and listening to NPR. By the time I get to where I can actually record them, I resemble a Jack Webb character from 1960's TV: "Just the facts, Ma'am". I came to the conclusion at the Festival that my stories would be greatly enhanced if I were from Cuba, Ireland, or Appalachia, or just about anywhere in the South, because everything sounds better with an accent. But then, I also realized that my students hardly understand me, so maybe a good vocabulary could substitute for a cool accent. Ya think?
    With the 50th anniversary of the March on Washington just this past week, I thought maybe my first story should be how that intersected with my life. I'm 56, a white, middle-class, California-born female and so it would seem that I'd be worlds apart from the Civil Rights movement that the March on Washington symbolizes. And when I was 6, that was probably true. I was busy skipping 1st grade to 2nd and being confident when a classmate asked me what 'H-U-G-E' spelled that I was right. I said 'hug'. But almost immediately I realized that I had forgotten about that silent e making the u say its own name. But- I -didn't- admit- i- had- been- wrong. I don't know how long that classmate walked around with that error!
    BUT in terms of civil rights (small letters), I knew that people ought to be treated kindly and what was good for the goose was good for the gander (a saying my parents and grandparents said). I understood that to mean that all people were created equal. Well, really, I suppose at six I understood that if I got to sit down on a bus seat that anyone else who got on that bus ought to be able to sit down as long as there were seats. We rode the jitney (the little bus) from Hillside Blvd. to the Top of the Hill in Daly City, CA.
   I actually wasn't aware of the March on Washington when I was 6, when it was happening, but I became very aware of our country's inequalities just 2 years later, in 1965. That was the year we were moving to La Habra in Southern CA AND the year of the Watts riots. I saw them on the news on our brand new color TV. It was even more horrifying than the footage of the VietNam war. This was in my country AND in the place where I was going to be moving very soon. Why were people so angry? I really don't recall getting an explanation. I was frightened. I think I understood from the news that it was a community problem, but of course later I could see that it was an eruption in response to oppression. At 8, I became aware for the first time that people with different skin color lived in different communities, and I began to wonder. From that time forward, I began to pay attention to Martin Luther King, Jr., and the injustices and oppressions that I could never have thought about from my seemingly ordinary position.

Why Sam Needs A Truck

Just wanted to write down the conversation I had with Sam in the car yesterday. Just for a little background: Sam really likes old trucks. The 40's to early 50's models seem to be his favorite, but just about any old truck will turn his head. Part of his 10-Year-Plan is to buy an old truck to restore with Daddy when he's big enough to drive. So in the car yesterday we passed by an old truck that I knew he would notice and sure enough I heard,

"Mommy! Did you see that cool truck?"

"Yeah, I did, it was pretty nice."

"Yeah, I wish I had a truck like that. Except I don't think there would be enough room for me and you and Jonas and Daddy and the new baby, so that wouldn't be very good."

"Yeah, but when you're big enough to drive you could just take Jonas and the new baby with you and that would be fun."

"Yeah, and if I needed to carry anything I could just put it in the back ... like a really big basket ... or dead animals ..."

"Dead animals???"

"Yeah, like if I found a dead kangaroo I could just put it in the back of my truck."

"Why would you want to put a dead kangaroo in the back of your truck???"

"Or like if it wasn't dead but it was just like kinda hurt then I could take to ... you know that place ... where they fix 'em up."

"The veterinarian?"

"Yeah, I could take it to the veterinarian and then I would have a pet kangaroo."

"Oh, ok."

"Or if it was just a little tiny baby kangaroo then I could put it in a little basket like a carseat and then it could be in the front part with me and be toasty warm."

"Yeah, that would be good."

"So that's why I wish I had a truck like that."

"That makes perfect sense."

He knows!

What do my 16 year old self and my nearly 54 year old self have in common? Give up? It is not my girlish (um..really?) figure, my (now) auburn hair, or the knowledge I have. We were and are both loved by God, a Heavenly Father, a real being who existed then and exists now. I recently experienced a distinctive manifestation of that love that I want to share with the people I love the most.
Our family has many levels of belief and understandings of God. In order to communicate this experience best, I'd like to put my belief and understanding out here so as you read, you can use it as the context. I believe in God who directed the creation of a beautiful earth to give his beloved children a place to live and grow, and who set in motion natural laws that govern the earth's processes (geologic, meteorologic, etc.) Each part was created spiritually before it was created physically, including me. God knew me then, as he knew each spirit creation. He gave me a particular, unique package of personality, intellect, and propensities, and just like the natural processes, He set governing laws for my existence. His hopes for me as I became a mortal being through birth in a human family were such that the interplay of my "package" with the circumstances that I encountered and choices I would learn to make would propel me to become like He is, a perfect being. He wants me to come back to live with Him.
Because He loves us, He has distributed His power, the Priesthood, among mere men. These are pretty ordinary men who have promised to follow His Son (and thus Him) and keep the commandments. In fact, all of my sons have had the priesthood conferred upon them. It is only useable if they keep their covenants. One of the offices of the priesthood is a Patriarch, which is a formal calling to use the priesthood in a particular way: they receive revelation from God in order to give a once in a lifetime blessing to those who seek this information. Each blessing is unique to the person receiving it, and gives guidance about gifts and weaknesses that helps an individual throughout one's life.
When I was 16, I received a Patriarchal Blessing. I have often read it, worked to develop gifts mentioned, and recognized (sometimes in hindsight) what God knows about my potential. It is NOT in any way connected to predestination. God does not limit his children. There ARE hints or direct statements about what that potential is, and what one's purpose in life may be.
I have developed through the years a vibrant knowledge that God is real, that he knows ME as an individual, and cares about what I do. He loves me. I really can't explain the depth of His love, but because I have experienced it, I know it. The closest I can come to understanding or explaining it is through my experience as a mother.
My life recently has been pretty intense in preparing for a new professional chapter in my life. I have felt guided and have gained more confidence in the moving forward to unknown paths, because of God's love for me. I have had an underlying feeling that somehow this fits into the potential God would like me to reach.
Now to the recent experience: Wednesday (March 30) was the day I was to begin my interview experience at Weber State University. When I left home that morning, I would do 5 classroom observations, spending over 6 hours at a school before going the additional hour to Ogden and the dinner with the search committee. I had gotten a priesthood blessing from Steve Tuesday night, in which I was calmed and encouraged. My prayers Wednesday morning were pretty selfish prayers focused on what I was going to be doing, with a little praying for others. As I rose from my knees to continue my morning routine, to my mind came a phrase from my patriarchal blessing given almost 40 years ago. I have come to recognize these kinds of thoughts as messages from God, whispered by His Spirit. "You will achieve and gain knowledge and great skill as you continue in the realms of higher education and learning. Through your humbleness and prayerfulness and by listening to the promptings of the Holy Spirit, you will know all that you should do." For me, this was a direct message, revelation, that God was encouraging me. I HAD achieved a measure of knowledge & skill, and He would help me as I went through the interview experiences. I felt His confidence in me during my teaching, during all the various interviews with the Dean and numerous faculty, and during my research presentation. How could I NOT have confidence in myself? I realized more strongly than ever that He knows me.
Because of my great love for MY children, I want to share this experience in hopes that you will also come to know or come to know more deeply and firmly of His love for you. Amidst all of the demands of this life, the more one tries to find how to align one's life with God's, the more an individual comes to know and feel His love. It's always there.

Leprechauns!

Today while Sam was at preschool I thought it might be fun if he got a visit from the leprechauns. I have some teensy tiny baskets in my craft stuff, so I put a chocolate covered miniature marshmallow in each one and hung them on the branches of a bush outside. While Sam and I were working in the garden I casually mentioned that I saw something moving around in the bushes, but Jonas needed something so I didn't have time to go check it out. I told him he should go look and see if maybe there was a squirrel's nest or a bird nest or something in there. He went over about 5 feet from the bush and sort of glanced in its direction and said there was nothing.

"Oh, ok," I said. "It's just that it's getting close to St. Patrick's Day and I wasn't sure if Leprechauns come around here or not. We should probably keep a look out for them."


That changed things. He definitely thought we needed to take a closer look. Key word: WE. He was definitely not going near that bush by himself. So while I kept weeding we talked casually about it. There was definitely nothing to be scared of. Even if it WAS a Leprechaun, you'd NEVER see one. They sleep during the day and they definitely don't want any little boys to catch them. It was probably just a bird or a squirrel or something anyway.


When he couldn't stand it anymore, I finally got up to take a look at the bush. We went to the opposite side of where the treasures were, and pretty soon I heard,


"Mommy! I see something!"


It was a ball. Not our ball. Some random dirty old ball was under that bush. The leprechauns must have taken it from some other kid's house and hid it there. Awesome.


We kept looking for quite a while. The baskets were inches from his face and he looked right past them. Finally he saw one. You can imagine the look on his face.


"Mommy!" he gasped.


"Wow, what's that inside?"


"Chocolate!"

"Is it?"


"Yeah! ... or maybe poop or something."


I laughed pretty hard. "You think a leprechaun pooped in that basket?"


"Maybe, because they play tricks."


Then he noticed the 5 other baskets still hanging up. "Mommy! A LOT of poop!" ... "This is magic!"


We gathered up all the baskets and there was quite a bit of deliberating on whether it was poop or chocolate. He wanted me to try it first. I wanted to try it together. I kept counting to 3, but he seemed to have no intention of putting it in his mouth. Then all of a sudden he popped one in and pronounced it to be chocolate. Brave boy.


After some more treasure hunting we heard someone's voice and both looked up at the same time. In our driveway, about 20 feet away there was a surveyer wearing a bright orange work vest digging a hole.


"There he is!"

"Ya think? You wanna go see?"


He nodded and ran right over to him. I should explain here how funny an orange vest can make someone look when you have leprechauns on the brain. He was a round, jolly looking fellow, but a big guy, not leprechaun size. He would make a great Santa, though, if you slapped a white beard on him. He had a big booming voice, and when he saw Sam running over so excited he called out, "Hey, Buddy! I'm looking for treasure. You wanna help me?"


Sam turned back to look at me. His jaw was on the ground and his eyes were huge. He turned back to the orange-vested leprechaun and nodded up and down as big as he could.


He showed Sam his magic stick that made funny noises. He waved it over the ground and said, "When we find treasure it'll sound like this," (and he waved it over the hammer in his tool belt.) I was trying SO hard not to bust up laughing. You could just see exactly what Sam was thinking: I AM LOOKING FOR TREASURE WITH A REAL LIFE GIANT LEPRECHAUN!!!


After that it was pretty much just boring surveying stuff. (Sam was really hoping to dig a hole, I think.) They were looking for the property line and were radio-ing back and forth but couldn't seem to find it. "Nope, no treasure today. Sorry, Buddy."

I didn't want Sam to think road workers and surveyors and anyone wearing an orange vest are all magical people that play tricks and leave treats for little boys, so I told him that he should tell the man about what he found. So Sam showed him the baskets and said, "We found these in our bush."


For a second there the man's eyes got really big and he looked at me like, what the heck??? Maybe for a half a second he thought we found some indian baskets or something? I don't know, but he was definitely surprised for a moment.


I told him that we were pretty sure the leprechauns left them and that when we saw him in our driveway Sam thought maybe HE was the leprechaun. He got a good laugh out of that and assured Sam he was a little too big to be a leprechaun.

Sam had some candies in gold wrappers left over from his pinata, so he put those in the baskets and hung them in the bush for the leprechauns to find. I have a feeling we may be spending a lot more time in the bushes the next couple weeks.

anyone?....anyone?

I'm channeling Ben Stein as the boring teacher. "The war of 1812 was fought in the year...? Anyone? ...Anyone?
I was reading the past blog posts and while I enjoyed writing them, only Ellie ever commented or tried to play with me!
Maybe because I'm the mom, but mostly because I have a tender heart, it is important to me for our family to grow closer. To me that means trying to know each other for who we are now, and not relying on old conceptions. I realize that part of being family is sharing a history. I think that is incredibly valuable. It at least gives some context for why we have become who we have become, as well as giving grounds for a kind of family shorthand. When a particular event or era is referred to, the whole story doesn't necessarily need to be told. A phrase or a single word communicates the shared idea of the experience.
I realize that it is MY need to grow closer that I am putting out here. How would all of you propose to accomplish that need? As a corollary, is there a need others feel, or is everyone else fine the way it is?
I've considered why I feel we are distant, and offer the following explanation as it applies to me. As we've transitioned into all adults, I find that I enjoy watching the changes, but that our ways of relating to each other haven't kept up. Maybe as a parent, you 'children' expect me to still consider you as I did when you were children. That would certainly affect our relationship. If one is expecting to be treated as the person they were in an earlier time, then the relationship could get stuck in the past, using past communication types. That is not satisfying for me, because I am continuing to change, and I hope as I grow, my ability to be genuine, to be warm, and to consider others' growth will also deepen.
Gotta go to choir now, but I want to post in hopes that more of you will respond.

May Day! May Day!

Ok, so there is really no need for an SOS or help of any kind. It was just a fun title. May is the month of May Day, Cinco de Mayo, Proms and Mother's Day, all flowery kinds of things. Here in Utah, it is also a month of graduations, and the beginning of BYU Spring term. The beginning of May is also the beginning of a new year for me, with my birthday falling in the last week of April. I'm still startled to find myself over 50, with no sign of letting up. I took inventory last week, and counted my blessings. I am amazed at the things that have occurred for me. Having been born of goodly parents, I learned to keep on keeping on. From my point of view, at least, part of the legacy from both the Oakley and Elliott people is that quitting is never an option. It's a two-edged sword. It has, at times, been hard to know when to cut my losses. But it has also kept me persevering when things were simply hard. I think about my Grandma Oakley and Grandma Elliott. Both born in the late 1890s, they got through a number of hard things, including disappointments, deaths of loved ones too soon, not to mention 2 world wars, a flu pandemic, and the Depression. I realized this week that the Lord has put people in my life who have shaped me, and continue to shape me. He's trying to make me in to something useable for Him!
I've been teaching Sunday School for adults, and we've been studying the Old Testament. Most recently we studied about Moses and the Israelites. Their "wandering" in the wilderness for 40 years was both necessary and un-necessary. Un-necessary if they would have been quicker to develop the skills to be faithful that the Lord expected and needed his people to be. Necessary in that in order to be prepared for the experiences in Canaan, they needed certain capacities built, and the Lord tutored them with loving kindness during the 40 years. He was trying to prepare a people useable for Him --a people filled with faith, and an understanding of the Plan of Happiness, willing to serve each other, and love one another. In some respects, my last 35 years or so have been like that. My combination of stick-to-it-iveness and the flip side of bull-headedness, my family legacy, have been given to me to refine. It has been quite a process of coming to trust that God knows what will bring me the greatest joy, and to seek His direction instead of having my own head. I have had much more success as I continue to fine tune the seeking, listening, and hearing. And part of learning has been being associated with outstanding people, including my family, my co-workers, my cohort, my professors, my neighbors, and my Ward members.

Happy Birthday Gramma Sue

Every morning Sam wakes up and, while still rubbing his eyes, says,

"Mommeee? I thought maybe it was Easter today."

He's not much of a morning kind of guy so getting bad news every morning since Easter is kinda rough. After this conversation the other morning, we decided to talk about all the holidays coming up, the first of which is ... Gramma Sue's Birthday! Sam immediately perked up and said,

"I would like to make her a cake."

Excellent. However getting the cake to Gramma Sue ... not gonna happen. So we decided to make you birthday cupcakes and enjoy them for you. Less calories that way, right?

Why are they green you ask? Well, because that's the color of cupcakes puppies like, of course. (James decided that makes them "pupcakes.") Unfortunately, by the time the pupcakes were done, Sam was also done being a puppy and decided,

"I don't think I like that green part."

But the Chocolate Horchata Frosting with baby m&m's was a hit, and Sam was very happy to celebrate your birthday, even if it wasn't quite Easter yet.