Mormon Bloggers

Editor’s note: This is another article in our series of BYU students sharing letters and reflections on scripture.

Dear Jenna,

Happy February! You are 19 months old now and getting so big! You are so loved and treasured. This last week in my Book of Mormon class, we began discussing the first few chapters of Helaman. These are the chapters that talk about the Gadianton Robbers and their wickedness. While reading, I was struck by how we can get caught in sin and wickedness, and how Satan works to keep us caught up in this sin and wickedness. When I found myself pregnant with you, I discussed with my bishop the difference between guilt and shame. Guilt is a good thing. Guilt admits that our actions were bad, and it shows that we feel remorse for our actions, and want to improve. Shame is a bad thing. It implies that not only are our actions bad, but our character is also bad. This is what Satan wants. This is how he keeps us in the sin. As it says in Helaman 2:3, we enter into a covenant that no one should know our wickedness. So when we sin, we hide our actions. We try to cover it up and we don’t always confess of the sin.

But this goes against our Savior’s sacrifice. Hiding our sins goes against the purpose of the Atonement. Even if we can hide our sins from the world, we cannot hide them from our Heavenly Father. The Atonement was put into place so that we can confess and forsake our sins, and we can be clean and worthy to return to Him.

When I became pregnant with you, I was stuck in Satan’s grasp. I was making mistakes, and trying to hide them. I was ashamed and unhappy. And even though confessing my sins was difficult, it led to such great happiness. I testify to you, sweet baby Jenna, that the way to happiness is through righteousness. If we live according to His word, and take advantage of the Atonement in our lives, we can live happy and return to live with Him. Do not become stuck in Satan’s grasp; there is no happiness there.

You are adored more than you know. Thank you for inspiring me to loosen Satan’s grasp so I could embrace my Savior and find my way to happiness.

Editor’s note: This is the first in our new series of BYU students sharing letters and reflections on scripture.

Letter to My Single Mom: Thank You for Teaching Me about God

by Rae D.

This week I would like to write to my mom who spent 9 years as a single mother to 7 children. The scripture that stuck out to me was Alma 56:47 which talks about the stripling warriors and how they were raised by their mothers. The majority of my childhood was spent with just you as my mom, with no other parental influences. Although I didn’t know at the time, I have since come to realize what a hard time you had raising us. I know now that you struggled to know if what you were teaching us and how you were parenting us, if it was right because you had no other parent to confer with.

Even today I know that you worry because it always seems like one of us is making a stupid decision in our lives. But this scripture stayed in my mind because it talks about how the sons had been taught about God and religion by their mothers, which is what you did for all of us. But it doesn’t say that the sons were all perfect either. The mothers taught their sons about God, which was the greatest gift the mothers could give. And although none of your children are perfect, it is important to remember that we all know about God because of you and we all know of your own personal love for God.

Just about now you’re thinking this holiday demands a whole lot of work. Baking treats, wrapping gifts, opening Christmas cards, welcoming visitors. Oh, wait. That’s not work. Those moments exist to connect, to celebrate, to feel the joy of the holiday. I felt some of both today—the work and the joy. And, when I feel [...]

All Content Copyright (C) 2007-2009 TJ Hirst. No content may be reproduced without the copyright owner’s express written consent.

A Holiday That’s Worth The Work

You would have to live in a hole to not notice all the buzz about the “Elf of the Shelf” this season.  All my mommy friends are talking about it… good and bad things.  And it seems that just about everyone has an opinion on them.  Some are dead set against them to a point of being cynical, I think.  I read an article yesterday that made me want to personally send the lady a chill pill.  I highly doubt children are going to be scarred for life because of the “Elf on the Shelf.” And they really are saying how detrimental it is to their growth.  As well, there are people who take it WAY too seriously! (I am sure I don’t have to give an example here) And you are a terrible parent if you don’t have an Elf for each child plus an extra just in case!  Then there are those who have the elf, but lack in motivation… these are the people that totally crack me up especially if they have a good sense of humor about it.  Ben and I read an article last night that had us in stitches!

Then there is us.

We can barely afford toilet paper and diapers right now let alone a thirty dollar Elf doll.  So not going to happen.

Now, I strive to be a great mom, and I want to make Christmas as magical for my children as I can while they are small.  It ticks me off a little that there are mom’s out there making me feel less than a good mom because I can’t fork out the big bucks for a silly little elf.  Last year, when I first heard about it, I thought it might be fun to try something LIKE it… just not the same thing…

So I did the next best thing.

I made up my own.

Yep, that’s right, I made up my own elf.  Here is a picture of our Elf, Carl, hiding in the tree:

Can’t see him? Well, it’s not the best snap shot.  How about now?  Can you see him hiding on my mess printer shelf?

Still no?

How about on the fridge?

Okay, I am sure by now you have figured out the Carl the Elf is invisible — sometimes only seen by big people.  Like when my kids are fighting, I will suddenly shout out, “ELF!!!”  Kids all the sudden stop and shout “Where!!!??” And I say something like, “Didn’t you just see him run across the floor and into the Christmas Tree!?”  Kids now looking around like crazy, all fighting forgotten… Me: “See, you were too busy fighting to see him!”  Kids are at this point looking forlorn… then I remind them that Carl the Elf saw them fighting and might be reporting back to Santa.  Then they start apologizing   I, being a bit of a weenie, tell them not to apologize just to me, but to each other and to the Elf.  Lots of hugging, “I’m sorry’s”, and talking to an invisible elf supposedly hiding in the tree ensues.

Then I snicker about it behind their backs.

Last year, they really ticked Carl off (I can’t remember why) and had to make amends by making him new clothes.  So we cut out these little clothes and made little shoes and glued and stapled them together — sewing with my boys was totally out of the question.  Then we left them under the tree for him.  This was great fun for the boys when they woke up and the clothes were gone and in their place was two Hersey kisses.  It was a great lesson in giving for them.

The boys have been having issues about not wanting to flush the toilet since they flooded it a couple months ago.  They have their own bathroom, so I don’t go in there much.  But when I went in there the other day, it was horrible!!  The smell was so bad, I had to run and get my inhaler!  When the boys came home from school, I told them that they had shut Carl in the bathroom and he almost died from the smell.  They were MORTIFIED!  I guess the thought of being stuck in their bathroom was even too much to contemplate even for them!  We talked about the consequences of not flushing the toilet… again, but this time they seemed to get it better.  However, they might be able to make it up to him if we all make cookies together and leave him some.  They were totally up for that… after they cleaned their toys up, that is.

I try not to make Carl and excuse to give the kids for good behavior.  I want it to be a learning experience in being thoughtful, kind to each other, listening to their wise mother, and bringing a happier more loving feeling into the house.  I don’t use it as a way to discipline (okay, maybe sometimes… but only a little), and I certainly don’t use it as a threat.  But I think it is important to teach our kids values in ways that they can understand, and since my boys both have some learning issues, an Elf, even an invisible one, is a good way to teach them the consequences of the choices they make both good and bad by adding a new perspective. And contrary to many popular beliefs it is imperative that we teach our children about consequences  because that’s life and that’s how we raise responsible adults who don’t feel entitled to everything just because they breathe.

Sure, there is no Carl the Elf… but Christmas is a time for believing in things we can’t see to give us hope.  There is nothing wrong in believing in magic… I, myself, miss those days of carefree childhood and waiting up for Santa.  My greatest memories growing up were of Christmas time… if I can give that to my kids, than that’s what I am going to do.  Besides, Carl the Elf has supplied me with an endless source entertainment, and man, does this mom NEED some laughs.

So, in personal opinion, there is nothing wrong with bringing some magic into your home for Christmas time.  We know our kids, we know that one day they will figure it all out… but enjoy this time while it lasts.  Make it fun, make it memorable, and make it great excuse to spend more time and do more things with your kiddos.  It’s Christmas!  Have fun!

I know I am!

-Cat

When I was a kid, I remember collecting soup labels for school.  We would take off the whole label and bring it to school and drop them in big bins shaped like giant soup cans next to the main office.  We would also have class contests to see who could collect the most and all that.  It was a lot of fun.

Now, you have to cut off these little “box tops” or ups codes for points.

At first, I didn’t really care too much.  I just kind of ignored the whole thing because it was such a hassle and having little pieces of paper everywhere to just get lost was getting on my nerves.

Then they started sending these little forms:

This is the recent one on their site

And my little bit of OCD can NOT abide blank boxes… they. must. be. filled.

It was a terrible thing to send something like this home to a mom like me… it was a trick, I know it.  Every time they send one of these babies home, I can’t rest until all the boxes are filled.  I know, I have some serious issues — Ben tells me I need to chill out.  I don’t know why he can’t be more supportive… maybe it has something to do with the fact that I had a melt down when he threw away a Juicy Juice container with 2 Box Tops on the side! TWO!  It had TWO and he just chucked it away like it was nothing!

Breathe.

Okay, I am better now.

Anyway, these stupid box tops have ruined my life.  I can’t just buy the generic ANYTHING anymore, because the brand name is sitting right there next to it on the shelve taunting me with it’s promises of filling up my stupid chart on the fridge with it’s box tops!

Then to make things worse, the school sent out the Campbell’s Labels for Education point collection pages too!  As of now I have 3 different pages on my fridge harassing me every time I go to the fridge to get something.

The frustration!  The stress!  The total unfairness of the whole thing.  Stupid OCD.  And stupid box tops!!

This is just a phase right?  I’ll get over it!  Meanwhile, I am using up my Ziploc bags like nobody’s business because it sports 4 box tops!  Score!

Dang, I need to get a life.

-Cat

Being a Missionary Mom
by Juliana

I had a visit recently from angels. En route from Austin to Chicago, they were sleepy and travel worn, but nonetheless angelic. As soon as the van rolled to a stop, an 11-year old boy jumped out, cradling a carefully wrapped package in his arms and shouting, “We have something for you!”

And the gift that the angels traveled so far to bring me? Inside the cardboard and packing tape and bubble wrap, I found an oil painting and a journal, mementos from my oldest son, who just passed the halfway point of his 2-year mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (LDS). But the real gift was the chance to chat with Jen and her wonderful children, to hear of their love for my son and to catch a glimpse of the Hanu-Kwanzaa-Christmas-birthday celebration they threw for Devin (um, Elder Larsen) in the middle of a hot Texas August. For the mother of a missionary, those reminders that someone watches over your son when you cannot make all the difference.

Just over a year ago, Devin joined the ranks of roughly 55,000 LDS missionaries serving throughout the world in areas from Mexico, Missouri to Oaxaca, Mexico and Rostov, Russia. Like thousands of his counterparts, he rides a bicycle in suit pants and a white shirt and tie, his black name tag identifying him as a servant of Jesus Christ. He put college on hold, tucked away most of his books and music, swore off dating for two years and committed to early morning study sessions and days spent preaching the gospel in all sorts of weather. If that alone fails to make his friends shake their heads in wonder, he also pays $400 each month for the privilege of serving a mission and counts himself blessed for the opportunity.

Those of us back home watch in wonder as the boy we waved off on an airplane last year becomes a man. We look forward with great anticipation for each Monday morning email and the twice-a-year phone calls on Christmas and Mother’s Day. We learn after the fact about bike wrecks and illnesses, the sweet moments when he listens to someone truly talk with God for the very first time, and the frustration of doors slammed and insults hurled. We read about the impromptu doorstep lesson Devin taught in Spanish, a language he does not speak. “I can do all things God needs me to,” he says.

The other day, after my angels climbed back into their van and drove away, I pulled out the missionary journal and, with my son’s permission, spent the next hour reading. One Monday in June, Devin wrote, “We cannot measure our success by what others do with their agency but instead what we do with ours. It is not about how many people have decided to get baptized while we were there, but by how hard we worked, how many people we invited, how eagerly we sought the Spirit as we taught.” Good words to live by, not only as a missionary but as a mother, a teacher, a leader. My heart filled to bursting as I read, and the tears streamed down my cheeks. These are missionary mom moments to treasure, these times when love and joy nearly break your heart.

- – – – -
Read more from Juliana at her blog: http://skippingpastcornfields.blogspot.com/

Back in the day when I was a kid, kid’s meals usually had some pretty cool toys.  But then it was the 80′s, and the 80′s were some good times.  But as the years go by, the toys start getting cheaper and cheaper and stupider.  You may remember the LAST Stupidest Ever:

Well, today I took Nephi and Jake to Carl’s Jr for lunch.  I was tired and making lunch just didn’t sound like something I had the energy to do.  We got the meals and of course, the first thing Nephi does is searches the bag for the toy.  This is what he fishes out:

Now, at first sight, you’re thinking “Oh, it’s a kid’s maze!  What’s wrong with that?”  Well, let me give you a hint:  Look really close and see if you notice something missing…

Yep.  You’re right.  There is no little ball.  At first I thought there was a manufacturing issue, so I took the toy up the counter to ask about it.  I was like: “Umm… where’s the ball?”  The lady told me that the little balls were too dangerous so the company decided to make the mazes without, but that they would drill a little hold in the back so we could add our own little ball when we got home.

I just want to thank Carl’s Jr. for being so thoughtful of my children’s safety.  I am so glad they wasted money and made a POS maze that really upset my kid because he thought it was surely broken.  I will gladly take it home and get out my box of extra-dangerous killer maze balls that all parents have right?  I especially love it that they don’t think, I as a parent, have enough common sense to throw away broken toys if the ball was somehow able to escape.  I love being treated like I am a complete moron…. makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

So not going to Carl’s Jr. any time soon.  I’ll take them to Chick-a-Fillet where they give out children’s books and fruit and non-breaded chicken nuggets are optional.  They come around and re-fill my drink, have a play place, free wi-fi for my Kindle Fire, AND a condiment station.  Carl’s was totally stingy with the ketchup and only let my ketchup lovin’ kiddo’s have 3 packets to share!  For the price that we pay, we should at least get 4… come on!  Boo to Carl’s!

-Cat

When Sam was 3 years old, he started his special needs preschool.  The bus came and got him, and he looked so little standing there with his backpack.  I thought, he’s just a little guy!  He isn’t big enough to go to school yet!

I try really hard not complain … too much.  But sometimes, life just really has a way of biting you in inconvenient places.  Things have been tough with Ben gone.  Car troubles.  Pay check issues. Asthma flareups.  Mounting bills that can’t be paid.  Kids that won’t stop fighting.  And just plain missing my man so badly it hurts.

I admit, it has been a real struggle for me to keep a good attitude about things.  Having hope and faith that everything will work out is tough when it just doesn’t seem to be coming true.

Last night, I had a really good cry out.  So good, it flared my asthma up and gave me a uncomfortable session of coughing my lungs out.  But hey, it was worth it just to let all the stress and worry out in a good old fashioned cry session.  Today, when I woke up, even with swollen eyes, I felt better.  I looked myself in the mirror and said, “Cat, you are doing the best you can.  This garbage that is happening are things that are out of your control.  Remember, you always have a choice on how you are going to deal with it.  Come out weaker, bitter, and angry, or suck it up, get a better attitude and KNOW that karma will come your way and things will start looking up.  You need to get over this!”

Yeah, so I talk to myself.  When Ben is gone, who else is going to give me a great pep talk?

So, I resolved to have more hope and faith that things will look up.  I will cross my fingers and my toes that Ben’s money will come through on the first (Wed) so I can pay the bills.  Meanwhile, I will pray, smile, be the best person I can be…. and take care of my kids and support my hardworking hubby.

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