About faith.

I don’t think faith is a foreign subject around here.  I would like to think that I post about it often, because it is an area where I have strength.

(But now with saying/typing that out loud, there will be some huge test to that statement..)

Or maybe I post about it because I am strengthening it.

Either way, I had an experience that took place when I was a teenager, I was reminded of it this last summer.  I thought then, “I should record that experience.”

Have I?

No.

So I am now.

I was 15.  It was the August before I started my sophomore year in high school.  My parents would go camping just about every Thursday evening as soon as dad was off work.  Being employed by the government, he had the 4-10 work week, and it worked out fantastically.  He was also bishop of our ward at the time, and there was little time to actually get away. 

They almost always took my younger brother Kevin.  Sometimes I went along.  We have always enjoyed camping and hiking.

We would go to a campground on the other side of the mountains from us.  It was a pretty nice place, unless partiers showed up.  It was also an area where there was lots to go and see and do on foot.

(Okay, so there still is..)

We decided on this particular trip, that we would hike to Ben Lomond Peak.  It was just intended to be a day trip, hiking to the peak from the North Fork trailhead about 8 miles in each direction. 

Wish I had my own photos of Ben Lomond..  here’s a nice one though:

(Photo Credit)

Ben Lomond is the highest peak in the middle there.  Willard, the one to your left, is actually higher by 52 feet.  Snow is usually still on the north-facing side for the most part of the year.  It was when we were this particular summer.  We even had a snowball fight on the way down, even skied in our hiking boots.

(That was dangerous though.)

In preparation for our hike, we ate a good, hearty breakfast, packed up our day packs with lunch and snacks and lots of water.

We knew we couldn’t possibly pack enough water, so we had to count on a water source being along the way to refill our bottles and canteens.  My dad and brother brought along water-purifying pumps and iodine tablets (my favorite!) to clean whatever water we would find to use.  My dad also studied his topographical map to find whatever water sources were available.  We estimated that we would have enough to get to the skyline arm of the trail, and we would need to refill for the last bit up to the peak and again, for the hike down. 

He found Cutler’s Spring on that map right there along the skyline trail.  We said a family prayer  and we left confident that we would be okay.

The climb up was amazing!  The views were terrific and only continued to be increasingly more awesome as we continued to ascend.  We saw so much wildlife, and just enjoyed being together.  We’d stop for snacks of grapes and drink our water and continue on.  We got to that skyline trail, needing the water.  There was only a few swallows left among all of our canteens, and we needed more for the rest of the way up the peak, and the trip back to camp.  We set out to find Cutler’s Spring.

We searched for quite a while.  When dad started to get worried, we did too. 

We stopped what we were doing, gathered together as a family in that beautiful, most humbling place, nearly on top of the world, and my dad offered a prayer.

It was a simple prayer.  It was a prayer of thanksgiving..  for our safety, for our being able to spend this time together, for the beauty of all that surrounded us, for all of God’s creations.  Then he asked that we would be able to find water.  Simply stating that “we need it”.  We knew it was there, somewhere, and we needed help to find it.

*Just a little side note on my dad, when he speaks, we listen.  When he prays, we especially listen.  There was no doubting in me, ever, that Heavenly Father wasn’t listening to our prayer, and there was no doubt in my mind that we would find the water.*

As he ended the prayer, I remember opening my eyes, my head still bowed, seeing all of our feet there in a circle, and the first thought that came to my mind was: tracks.

We had already seen a variety of wildlife, so we knew there were creatures there.  Animals leave tracks, animals also need water. 

Kev and I started looking for tracks.

Soon we found some broken grass off the mail trail and started to follow it.  Soon it turned to dirt and there were deer tracks.  We followed them.  They were still, just in the dirt at first, then the dirt slowly turned wetter and wetter.  We were hot!  Then there was mud, and before we knew it, there was water, springing from that mountain.

The water we needed.

We filled our canteens, offered our prayer of gratitude, and continued on to that peak. 

Once at the top, it was beautiful.  You could turn in any direction and see views of the entire valley.  Ogden, Logan, Huntsville, even into Salt Lake.  It was gorgeous!

We ate our lunch, signed the book that hides in a metal pulpit of sorts at the peak, found small rocks for our souvenirs, and headed back down the mountain to camp.

For a long time, that is what I remembered the most, that incredible view!  It was quite an accomplishment to hike it all, to see it all.  It was a great experience.

We also ran into a moose butt.  Like literally RAN.  Kev and I were running down the trail, rounded a switch-back and there was this gigantic moose peeing in the middle of the trail!

I will never forget that!

But then a different memory was brought to mind as we sat around the campfire that one night this last summer.  We sat there as a family, in the shadow of that peak, my dad sharing stories, and just listening to him speak in this setting, I began to recall that great story of faith.

Water is such a basic, essential thing.  Something that sustains our very life.  We needed it.  But we needed to have faith to find it.

How many other things in life do we need to exercise our faith in order to find and to obtain?

From now on, along with all the other memories of that trip, I will remember what I learned that really matters.

Faith.

Faith.

This morning, Ashley had a major freak-out.
I mean, epic.
It has been building for a while now, the anxiety started over Thanksgiving break.  Whenever she would think about the up and coming “writing journals” in her kindergarten class, she would get a little sick.  She is a perfectionist (like someone else I know..) and worries until she is sick, about spelling anything correctly.
I tell her that I still don’t know how to spell everything correctly.  “There is this magical thing on the computer, that whenever I spell something wrong, it underlines it in a squiggly red line.  Then, I know I have spelled it wrong.  But the cooler thing, the thing that makes this even more magical, is that I can right click (sad that my 6  year old knows just what this action is) and it gives me options for words that I could have possibly meant to spell.  Except for amoxicillin, it has no idea what that word is most of the time.”
Back to the epic freak-out…
So, she was suddenly sick.  (Insert fake coughs here.)  She couldn’t possible go to school.  But me and my mad mommy skills knew she was faking it.  We talked about why she didn’t want to go, what she was afraid of, and I thought I had cleared it all up.  We even ran through how to sound out and then spell a word phonetically.
“Your teacher loves you.  You can ask her for help and she will help you.  This is what kindergarten is all about, nobody in your class is perfect, you are all learning.  We can say a prayer before you leave, just me and you, and ask Heavenly Father to help you.”
But when I walked into her room at 8:05 (five minutes before she should leave to walk), she was sitting on the ladder of her bunk bed STILL IN HER NIGHTGOWN.
I resisted the urge to scream at her, and instead, took her by the hand to help her get ready.  We talked (well, I did most of the talking) while she got ready.
I asked her what the problem was, I said that I thought we’d solved it.
“Aren’t we going to say a prayer, just you and me?”
“But mom, I know the prayer won’t work.”
“It won’t with that attitude.  You just need to have faith.”
“But I don’t know how to have faith…  how do you have faith mom?”
In that moment, a million memories flooded my head.  Experiences I have had in my life, dealing with faith.  I was trying to come up with the most age-appropriate one, one that would be on her level.
“When I was 3, I got a doll for Christmas.  I named her Susie.  I thought that was the most beautiful name.  Susie had eyes that would open and shut when I laid her down.  She even had eyelashes.  I loved her.  I also loved her eyelashes.  I would touch them and explore how they worked.  I even started to pull on them to see where they came from.  I kept pulling, and they came out.  I was so sad, my beautiful doll wasn’t so pretty anymore.  I was sorry that I wasn’t more careful. 
“I knelt down that night, by my bed, with Susie, and said a prayer.  I asked Heavenly Father to help her eyelashes grow back.  I told him how I was sad and wished I hadn’t pulled on them.  Do you think that Heavenly Father could have fixed my doll?”
She just shook her head, her eyes wide.  I knew I had her attention.
“I thought that somehow he could, but I didn’t know how.  I fully expected to wake up the next morning with Susie, perfect again.
“I didn’t know, and I don’t remember how all of this happened, but I remember getting out of bed, Susie wasn’t with me in my bed.  I saw that there was a light on in the kitchen, and I went to see what was happening.  I saw grandpa, my dad, standing at the stove, with the hood light on, Susie laying there on the stove.  Grandpa had one of his paint brushes, he was curling the hairs on the brush with my mom’s tiny curling iron.  He was fixing Susie.
“He cut some of the curled hairs off the brush, and carefully glued them back into Susie’s eye lid.  He fixed her.  My prayer was answered.  Did Heavenly Father fix Susie?
Ashley just shook her head, but I corrected her.
“Grandpa heard my prayer and knew that he had to answer it.  My faith depended on it.  Years later, as we would talk, grandpa told me that he didn’t know how he was going to fix my doll, but Heavenly Father helped him to know what to do.  He was given ideas of what he could use to fix her, and it worked.  Heavenly Father answered my prayer.  I had faith that he would.”
After that, being a little too late to walk to school, I took Ashley into my closet, shut the door, and we knelt down together and we said a prayer.
She was so calm after that.
I dropped the girls off at school, not a problem there.
When I went to pick her up, she was beaming.
“Guess what mom!?”
“What?  How was you day?”
“It was great!!!  The writing journal wasn’t a big deal.  It was so easy!!  We did letter “F” and I spelled “fox” and I did it right.  You were right, there was nothing to worry about.”
“Did Heavenly Father answer our prayer?”
“Yup.”

Let Me Explain...

For those of you still reeling from the candid post I did Monday, let me explain...
I grew up in a home where nothing was off limits. There wasn't a question you couldn't ask, or one that wouldn't be answered. While my parents were very open and honest, they also taught us when the appropriate time would be to participate in that... and I only use that word as to not offend further...
How open?
Remember my flashback Friday about camping? Cereal boxes having sex in the cupboards? That was basically every day at my house. There were questions asked, conversations that followed, always humor... it's not like we are all perverts, or obsessed or something. We knew how sacred it was (and still is... when it's happening;)...) we just didn't cringe when the subject was brought up. We weren't shy to ask, because my parents weren't shy to talk.
There was one time my dad was bragging to me about how knowledgeable he was. He said that there wasn't a question I could ask, that he couldn't answer.
So, I tested him.
Me: "Does it hurt to use a tampon?"
Dad: A brief look of panic, then a smile, cause I got him... "You got me... But the answer is, it doesn't hurt me!"
Another time, at the dinner table of all places (talk happened there a lot too...), we were talking about toys from our childhood. I get my words all mixed-up sometimes when I am talking faster than I can think and I say something wrong, that happens a lot, and I asked dad if he had a erection set when he was younger. Everyone laughed, my friend Teresa was in shock. Then I realized what I had said, then dad answered, "Yep. I played with is all the time!" As if Teresa weren't already red...
Then I said the correct word, the word I had meant to say, "I mean, an erector set..."
Dad said, "Yeah, I had one of those too."
So in contrast, Merrill grew up in a house that wasn't, well, that open. He described his "sex talk" or, "the birds and the bees" to me like this:
His dad: "Son, do you know how a girl gets pregnant?"
Mer: "Yeah."
His dad: "Don't do that."
See... I think that is what affects us now, some of us are more open than others.
Some of us also cope with humor.
So that's why you might be reeling, or laughing...
And no, he doesn't know. But he does know me, he knows that if something is bugging me, it'll get talked about...
So I'd like to say sorry if you are shocked or offended, but I can't, cause I am not, this is the way I am!

Count Your Many Blessings...

I won't take the time to name them all one by one... I have to go and pump soon... Yes, the milk is in full flow.
I know that I am blessed. Today, I was just thinking about it a lot more. There have been things I have been so worried about, and everything is coming together. I have had to learn how to pray, and then let it go. Two such examples...
Peyton's birth. I prayed and prayed about it going well, no complications. I put it in the Lord's hands, and everything is fine. I know it is a blessing, my body was able to do things that I was told it would not be able to do. Faith and prayer... I was blessed. Mer and I were talking about it last night. How thankful I am to have the priesthood in my home!
The pic is my mom & dad. I have been so worried about his cataract surgery. He went in today, and I prayed... They stopped by after wards. He can see!!! Another great example to me of putting your faith in the right place, and you have nothing to worry about. I literally did just that, I prayed, and did not let myself worry about it anymore. He has never seen better. I didn't realize how bad it was until my dad studied my face for quite awhile today.
We have such a great family and great friends that surround us. We have gotten phone calls and visits everyday to see about our well-being. How much more blessed can we get?