The One

A few years back a pregnant mother of 5 relayed something to me that still rolls around my thoughts to this day. She told me how having 1 child is really no different than having 5 because your attention is still being drawn to 1 child's needs at a time. I'm sure mothering 5 kidlets compared to just my 1 is a lot different in many ways, but I so cherish her inspired words that at the heart of it all - it is the same.

Caring for the one.

As a christian, you seek to pattern your life after Christ. And through learning and studying His example it rings ever true that He always sought after the one. Whoever, wherever, His hands and heart were there caring for that one person. Seeking diligently to be with that one soul whom His strength could heal, whom His hands could bless. The atonement itself is highly individualized; Christ didn't suffer for a blanketed the-human-race-all-at-once moment. He suffered for your life. my life. his life. her life. and so on. It was an 'at-one-ment'; Him placing himself in each of our specific lives and circumstances and preparing a way for us individually to turn to Him to find comfort, forgiveness, and ultimately saving grace. He always cares for the one.

I get overwhelmed (shocking I know). It seems I feel all at once that this person needs me, and this person, and this person. All of a sudden I have 10+ people rolling around in my head that could use some sort of help and care from me and I choose then to just shut down and contact none of them, barricading myself in my house huddled in a corner feeling defeated at the task. (DO NOT DO THIS). All of the overwhelming guilt rush of feelings however, can all go away the instant I choose the one. I've come to realize you can be a force for good without feeling the guilt and anxiety of it all by just being there for the one.

Recently I've seen back-biting articles coming out, bashing certain charities stating that those sufferers are a minority and therefore not as important as other causes we should be spending our time on. They say 'You should quit fighting for that cause because this cause has greater numbers.' It truly breaks my heart because I know of a surety that this is true:

"...the worth of souls is great in the sight of God" -D&C 18:10

Therefore EVERY soul is great in the eyes of God. If 1 person can be helped in some way, is it not worth our efforts? Though our caregiving tasks at hand for the list full of people is seemingly an unbearable burden, if our efforts are concentrated to one individual at a time, I've come to know that the burden is not only made light, but even more influential.


Heaven's slice is focusing on the one.

Clothes Shopping

I absolutely LOVE shopping for clothes (It's one of those girly things I kinda hate that I love so much - Tomboy envy), but only  when certain circumstance are in order like a) I have the time to be slow and selfish (AKA I am alone) b) There's crazy sales and c) My hair and makeup are done and I feel pretty. So in light of this love of mine I thought I'd snag some photos of my fave clothing items:

I have to bend one knee on all my outfit photos because that's how J-dawg rolls.

Purple and polka dots, how can I not love this dress!

 

Recent find - long loose t-shirts!

  The hands have thumb holes!

  O how I love a good ol' navajo aztec print.

Sometimes you have to do sassy poses with a "duck" face.

And sometimes you have to chop off your head.

I love this sweater even though my face doesn't look it.

I broke my frugal rule on this sweater, so don't tell Julie!

And lastly, my all time favourite outfit. The shirt is from a community softball team I played a game or two in when I was around 10 yrs. old (yes it drowned me and yes I'm pretty sure I played due to a potential forfeit). The pants are the most comfy hospital pants ever! I got them handed down to me when I was around 11ish by my sister. This outfit pretty much makes me feel like a carefree kid again. It's not flattering, nor is it pretty, but I feel amazing in it! 

Heaven's slice is feeling good in your clothes.

My gift shall be the gift of...

I recently saw the movie maleficent, which was actually a pretty good movie, BUT make no mistake that it doesn't hold a candle to the original Disney version of 'Sleeping Beauty' (my fave Disney movie, which ya, makes me SUPER biased).  With the hype of the new movie over the last month or so, I couldn't help but remember the original. My mind soon turned to the fairies bestowing gifts to the baby princess. I started to ponder what gift I would give as a fairy to the baby princess if I could grant any gift I could. Instantly I of course thought of my own little princess in what gift I would give her; being able only to choose 1 precious gift.

My gift shall be the gift of Knowledge.

For me, no other gift could compare to this in importance. Grace, beauty, and song could never dive down near as deep as knowledge could touch. It's being able to decipher truth from falsehood. It's knowing right from wrong. Knowledge is what gives us the motive and ambition to deliver our best in life. It's the whole foundation on why moments touch us the way they do, how and why we make certain decisions, and the route in which gratitude and charity are brought about. If everyone in this world (myself included) only but knew the truth of things, happiness would always be present and love would forever abound. Money, physical health, vanity, popularity, fame, and even those around us will come and go, but knowledge forever stays. It is the loyal comfort that can abound within regardless of anything going on on the outside.

To gain the knowledge, and KEEP the knowledge we need in this life that is of upmost importance it all comes down to this:

"...ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith." - Ether 12:6

Basically we need to believe and put that belief into trust acting in faith before the gift of knowing can reside within us. Believing turns into seeing and not the other way around.

For a Family Home Evening activity a while back, in the spirit of a story relayed in a talk, the hubs and I took the time to write down 25 words we each would give to our baby girl if they were our last. As we pondered in heavy consideration, the limited words gave light to what was of most importance. These words all came down to our testimonies - what we knew to be true. We do not know what she will be confronted with in this life, but we do know what things will forever stand true as the trials wave on. The words chosen had nothing to do with marrying a righteous man, getting a good education, or being smart with money. The words had everything to do with God, love, kindness and faith. It was the knowledge we had that we knew would prove to be the most vital that she would need to arm herself with in order to be happy. That is after all what we ultimately desire for our kids - that of true happiness. The knowledge of our Saviour is what I truly desire my daughter to have.

And of course this post must end with our own little  Sleeping Beauty :

Heaven's slice is knowledge.

Raindrops On Roses...

These are a few of my favourite things!

Sentimental Edition

For me the word "few" actually means 3-5, but really 3 is the number that always stands out when the word few is said. So, here are 3 of my favourite things. (note: that when adding "quite a" before the word few it actually turns equivalent to "a lot" for me.)

(THESE ARE IN NO PARTICULAR ORDER OF FONDNESS)

#1 These cowboy boots

They've since retired from use due to the heels overlapping the back lip of the boot causing spurs to slide right off (they kind of look odd without the spurs on). I got them when I was about 14 years old. A father's surprise gift to his daughter. My Dad just came home one day from a rodeo and presented them to me. There was no special occasion that enforced it and I had no idea he was getting them. They came from a store - they were brand new! My first none-hand-me-down cowboy boots. They lasted me 10  wonderful years of roping, riding, and rodeoing (I think I even did a few barrel runs and bending of poles in these in the early days). They've seen everything from manure and mud to a wedding dress. They moulded onto my feet  through a decade of real hardships and true happinesses thereby making a home in my heart.

#2 This rocking chair

My mom used to rock me in this rocking chair when I didn't feel well, or just before bedtime. I remember the noise it made as it tipped forward and it just soothed me so well and made me feel safe and loved. It had sat unused in my parent's basement for quite sometime and I knew when I had my little one I just had to have it for her. It now sits in my little girls bedroom in the corner where she rocks and plays on it. And sometimes when she's sick or scared she'll snuggle into me as we rock. We've fixed the noise it made by adjusting where it sits, but every once in a while when I'm lucky, it slips back out and that same sound comes back when I tip forward as we rock. Also, the doily thinger on the back was on the tables at our wedding reception.

#3 That Table

It could be because it was one of my first pieces of furniture given to me when I graduated high school/moved out on my own. It could be because I redid the seat cover in a really darling paisley blue and brown fabric that I adore. It could be because we sit together for supper as a family almost every night to it and catch up on each other's day. But really, it's because the love of my life knelt down and asked me a very important question as I was sitting up to it. Yep, this was the table that started my very own forever. 

Heaven's slice is memories.

To the left to the left

I stare at clocks. When I'm typing at the computer I stare at the clock. Oblivious to the time I am viewing, oblivious to anything really. But yet, my eyes gravitate towards staring at the clock if there is one around when I'm deep in thought. As I sit at my computer typing this blog there is a clock to the left (to the left)  that my eyes and head tilt up towards. Why do I do this? May be it's the soothing tick in silence that places my thoughts into rhythms. May be it's the gentle reminder that time is on my side still, giving me the needed space not to rush my ideas.

Or may be I'm running out of passionate posts this week and needed to grasp at something to fill my weekly quota...
Either way,


Heaven's slice is time.

Fighting Wrong with Wrong

Recently an incident occurred that left my ears stinging and my heart saddened. A stranger speaking to someone I was sitting beside began talking about the morals in other places compared to where we were at. Then suddenly he used extremely rude, offensive, hurtful slang to describe those persons whom he encountered elsewhere. I have heard terms like that used before, but never have I had such a hard time with hearing it as I did just then. May be it effected me the way it did because I saw it for what it was - HATE. Hate for another human being; a fellow child of God. I'm not sure if I handled the situation as best I could, but given I had my little one in tow, I quickly got up and left that area until the individual was gone.

My mind has spun since then about past experiences I have witnessed or heard about in headlines regarding individuals originally attempting to fight for what was RIGHT, but diving into WRONG in a much failed attempt to do so. There are too many examples of this in today's world. (Comment sections especially have gotten WAY out of hand.)

It's like there are two teams with a line drawn down the middle dividing them. Team Right and Team Wrong. Instead of staying on the Right side of the line as Wrong runs their play, you lash out at them lunging yourself to their side to "teach them a lesson," but little do you know, you crossed the line and joined their team... Ooops!

When someone makes fun of us or someone else, degrading and bullying them, do we really think calling them horrible names, and swearing at them is really going to fix the problem? NO!!! It obviously just fuels the HATE fire. A fight has now broken loose, instead of the opportunity to change someone's wrongful behaviour. I know personally from way back when(I'm talking below grade 4. Bully = me), whenever I would purposely hurt someone and they did it right back to me, it made me want to continue on being hurtful to them. However, when it was called out to me in a calm way that that was a very mean thing I had done and that it hurt them, the immediate remorse over my actions consumed me and I became ever-so sorry and desired desperately to change. Bullying someone back never works, but calling them out in an honest way does. You have to teach people how to treat you. It really comes down to this simple and wonderfully put quote:

"Defend your beliefs with courtesy 

and with compassion, but defend them."

- Jeffrey R. Holland                                        

the-cost-and-blessings-of-discipleship

I've really thought about it and I think I can see where we as individuals error - we don't listen. When faced with a difficult situation where something wrong is being done, instead of quieting ourselves and listening for that still small voice to guide us in our words and actions, we give into our inward screaming's of selfish pride and fear. We completely bypass our Heavenly Father (the lawmaker of right and wrong) in His infinite wisdom and guidance; therefore deciding to take matters into our own imperfect hands. ***We kick out our only true and sturdy leg that we had to stand on.***

We need to fight what's wrong in the world, we do, that's how changes for good can be brought about. BUT, we need to caution ourselves in knowing what the RIGHT thing to do is before we jump the gun in a riotous rage, because when we do so, unfortunately we just joined the wrong team.



Heaven's slice is actually fighting for what's RIGHT.

Trumped

I don't always wear a crown... but when I do, chances are I'm taking a blog photo.

I come from a long line of Rook players (and royalty...but we won't get into that), so I learned at a young age how to play the card game. In the game, there is 4 card colours: yellow, green, black, and red numbered 1-14, and 1 rook card. At the beginning of the game/round the highest bidder gets to determine what colour trump is going to be. Trump thereafter refers to any card that is that decided colour plus the rook card. The lowest card in trump (the Rook) beats any other card in a different colour; even the highest one.

Being trumped on a round humbles you. You throw down your highest in red and they throw down a trump-yellow 2 and take all your points with them.







Trump always wins, always.















I've been trumped, and trumped others hundreds of times in Rook, but also in life.

Love is trump.

It's easy to love people that love you; they constantly lay down trump for you and you to them. Following suit comes naturally to us (and is the rule in Rook). So on the flip side, when another colour is constantly thrown your way from someone, you as well throw down that colour. It's victim card after victim card, judgement card after judgement card throw down between both parties. Until one humbling day... you get trumped. You're shocked, naturally, your victim cards cease to hold any value in your hand, you're embarrassed at what you chose to lay down previously, feelings of guilt, shame, lowliness, and utter absolute gratitude fill your heart. You suddenly realize what you've had in your hand all along that sat unused: trump! You gladly return it back to them once your confusion of feelings subside. Sometimes you get to be the one who trumps; who shows another love after they give you a card of no value... and it feels awesome! You won! You went against the natural man to just follow their suit, and you determined that you in fact chose the road less traveled by, which as you know, makes all the difference.

There are times when winning is a necessity, and love can always be there for you to do so.

So when someone constantly gives you lemons, trump them!
(I don't like lemonade)



Heaven's slice is love.