🏳️‍🌈Pride🏳️‍🌈

Good.Ness. There is so much going on in the world these days!

Pandemic, politics, police brutality, Black Lives Matter, protests, riots, police defunding, natural disasters, Carol Baskin (or is that old news now?).. And this is just the stuff (social) media is telling people! Who knows what else is going on!

Some good news I just found out, ARNOLD SCHWARZENEGGER HAS 2 DONKEYS NAMED WHISKEY AND LULU THAT HE BASICALLY TREATS LIKE PUPPIES AND I SWOON! I SWOON! 

Anyway. I didn't come on here to talk about all of that. It's all very serious stuff. A lot of it hurts my heart. I mourn with those that hurt. I've listened to podcasts, read articles and books and I am listening any chance I get. I want to do better where I can. Be part of the solution, not the problem. But, seriously, I didn't come here to talk about this.

I want to talk about PRIDE. It's June which means it's officially PRIDE month. Usually there's parades and celebrations going on showcasing the LGBTQ+ community but thanks to stupid covid-19 and maybe because of the BLM protests and rallies (you can have protest but not parties.. I don't make pandemic rules 🤷) stuff going on it seems to be pushed aside.

When I was a teen, homosexuality was still pretty taboo. "That's so gay!" and "You're such a fag!" were often heard throughout the halls in school. There was the occasional gay character in a TV show or movie, the guy or girl you maybe suspected at school but they often tried really hard to appear straight. Granted, I live in Utah so maybe it's different elsewhere but I imagine being gay in the 90s was tough. Just Google Matthew Shepard. 

I remember a movie where a guy wants to come out to his parents after he graduates from college and he practices over and over with his friends before finally going to his parents. 

His parents kicked him out of their house. 

Countless stories of prejudice, heartbreak and pain. 

I've been pondering all of this a lot lately as I see so many people that are able explore who they are and at younger ages. Sure, sometimes I balk at what they'll put in a kids show these days and sometimes I struggle with new ideas but I also know that maybe that's reaching a kid that feels a little different from his buddies and just connected with that character and maybe doesn't feel quite so alone. 

It's also been on my mind a lot because of someone much closer to home. My own daughter who identifies LGBTQ+. If it wasn't for those fighting the fight before her, her road may be a little tougher. Now her dad and I would love and support her no matter what but maybe she wouldn't have felt comfortable enough to tell us how she felt when she did? She feels comfortable enough with her friends to be who she is and they love her and treat her with respect. She speaks up on her socials for equality for all and fights for the underdog. 

I don't know if it would have been the same way for her in the 90s or early 2000s. I'm here to say thank you to those who have made it possible for her and others like her to be who they are. I know it ain't all rainbows and butterflies. Society isn't perfect in this area but, holy crap, it's leaps and bounds from where it was, man! When I see a young boy doing makeup tutorials on social media (who does makeup better than I ever will!) I'm thinking we're doing pretty good! 

🏳️‍🌈

Motherhood

It's been six whole years since I've been here. Hi, hello. I've longed to visit, stay a while. I miss writing. Life, Facebook, my own silly expectations have kept me away. But here I am for a visit. Hoping its a new beginning.

The sun has set on another Mother's Day but this one is very different. Largely because of a fast moving virus called covid-19. It has disrupted life as we know it. I won't go into great detail in this post but schools are closed, kids are learning online from home. Businesses have closed, many are working from home, or worse, have lost their jobs. Even our churches and beloved temples have been closed for the time being. We've been having "home church" for a couple months now. ElRey prepares the sacrament for us and then we have a lesson each week. So no "Mother's Day Sunday", no primary kids singing to their mom's, no sacrament talks on mother's making all the women squirm in their seats for one reason or another.

Don't worry, we all still got a cookie.

It may have been one of the best Mother's Days of my adult life and I'll tell you why.

I've always wanted to be a mother. When I was younger I had 3 life goals-Wife, Mom, Degree. Two out of three not so bad! I thought I was going to be the most amazing wife/mom on the planet. I was made for it! I had a lot of love to give and I'd nurture the hell outta my family, serving without complaint and loving every minute of it.

If there is one thing I could tell the young folks, one piece of advice when it comes to building a family-LET GO OF YOUR EXPECTATIONS!! AND NEVER EVER COMPARE YOUR STORY TO SOMEONE ELSE'S SNAPSHOT!

Guess what? The hard stuff sucks. I want to run away. A lot. I'm angry. Often. Tired. All the time. I'm mostly selfish and don't share well.

So after 18 years of parenting I can say that it brings out the good in me but often it's after it's squeezed out a whole lotta bad. And I'm still working on it. I've had several times where I thought for sure I was past reacting badly only to react very badly all over again.

You're probably wondering when I'm getting to the "Best Mother's Day Ever" part, huh.

All week I've told myself that I really don't deserve to be celebrated. I wanted to ignore today all together. But I knew my family wouldn't allow that so this morning I got up ready to embrace it when I read something about Jesus and mothers:

"they{mothers} laid their story on the altar so we could have ours
their sacrificial love brought birth
new life
and that was only the beginning
there’s a lot of Jesus in that
no thank you could ever do
but for once...in church...my wish would be to not just sing to them, but
shock them...
amaze them
like only His grace can
to tell expectation that he can have the day off
and to take shame with him
and make room in a heart used to pushing out
for Someone else to come in
and let Him tell them how much He likes it there
just as it is
to tell them to stop measuring
unless it’s His merits and mercy
we could never count the ways
as many reasons we may give Him to...He just doesn’t give up on loving us
there’s a lot of mom in that
He has a heart we could never get to the bottom of" -David Butler

 I read it over and over and I realized something. I am so incredibly imperfect but I am trying. I have never done anything that has stretched me more than being a parent. I like easy, friends. I love fun. And parenting ain't always fun or easy. 

As I thought about this mini sermon today, I enjoyed each moment I had with my husband and my girls. Oh how I love them. My love for them is endless. It's pretty easy for me to see others the way God sees them, so much harder to see it in myself. But today I made an effort. I let go of those pesky expectations I have for myself and no one else and enjoyed my day with my loves.

Heavenly Light Distilled upon My Soul

"The more we incline our hearts and minds toward God, the more heavenly light distills upon our souls. And each time we willingly and earnestly seek that light, we indicate to God our readiness to receive more light. Gradually, things that before seemed hazy, dark, and remote become clear, bright, and familiar to us." Deiter F. Uchtdorf. (Source)

In the midst of a raging pity party this morning, I read this quote. Shortly after I was trying to read the lesson I've been asked to teach Sunday and came across a quote from President Joseph Fielding Smith (earlier church president) saying, "People die in bed. And so does ambition." Yes, I happened to be in bed crying to myself.

I had friends texting me and checking on me and sending their love. Then my mom called and we talked it out. The strength and wisdom I receive from my parents is a gift I try to never take for granted. If I was even a fraction of the awesomeness that is my parents, I could take on the world.

Then ElRey invited me on a lunch date and we got to enjoy one another's company in peace and quiet because Amy was kind enough to take our Tiny Dictator. I really love that man. He is my one and only forever. I love when we actually get to talk. And then another friend, Erin, followed a prompting from the Spirit to call me to buoy me up with her wisdom, kindness and love. To say my rough morning ended in a lot of "Heavenly light distilled upon my soul" would be an understatement. I'm so grateful to be reminded that God is prevalent in my little life and the Angels He has put in my journey.

Trials weaken us but if we are willing to ask for God's grace and empowering Spirit, they can make us stronger. If we can give in to the Master Carpenter, we can be the work of art we never imagined.

I watched this movie the other night called, "Liberal Arts". I pretty much loved it. It made me think a lot about my own potential and what, if anything, am I doing to reach it. One of my favorite scenes went like this:

Nat: Want some good news?

Jesse Fisher: Yes, please.

Nat: Caterpillars.... they're just scooping along, right? Being caterpillars. At some point, these cells show up, called imaginal cells. Scientists don't know where they come from or why they appear. These imaginal cells show up inside the caterpillar and say: "Get psyched, caterpillar! It's butterfly-turning-into time!" And what do all the other caterpillars do once these imaginal cells show up?

Jesse Fisher: I have no idea.

Nat: They attack 'em! Try to kill 'em! They're, like: "Screw you, imaginal cells. We're happy being a caterpillar. Get lost!" But eventually, the imaginal cells keep growing and overtake the destiny of the caterpillar. They will be in this cocoon! And then guess what happens next?

Jesse Fisher: The caterpillar turns into a butterfly.

Nat: [repeats him excitedly] The caterpillar turns into a butterfly!

Jesse Fisher: That's awesome.

Nat: I know it is!

Jesse Fisher: Yeah, that's good.

Nat: And that is why there is no reason to be afraid. Because everything is okay.

Jesse Fisher: Yeah, I don't know if I believe that.

Nat: It has to be true. There can be no other way.
(Source)

That is why we were put on this earth. To become our own version of a beautiful butterfly. But it hurts. It pulls, it weakens, it molds and carves us. We fight against it by sitting on our couches, by cradling bad habits like newborn babies because it's scary and it hurts.

I've been thinking a lot about the part of the Atonement that we tend to forget. Grace. Enpowerment. Christ is there not only to wash away our sins but to strengthen us in our weaknesses. He didn't expect us to turn into butterflies without a little (a lot) of help. He's there with His arm stretched out begging us to to ask for His help. I just have to remember that after I ask, I actually have to get up and do. Hiding in bed is no way to become stronger.

My kid is hurting. It isn't about me, even though I seem to be pretty good about making it all about me, but being a parent you can't help but take on their hurt, feel guilty, lost, hopeless and scared when you are trying everything to make things better for them, wishing you could just take it away from them and you seem to be getting nowhere. Even though I texted my husband this morning saying, "I just can't do this anymore" and the very next thought was, "Yes, you will. Again, later today, probably tomorrow, and the next day until you find what works." Even though I've been asking for His Enpowering Strength, I have felt so weak, so beat down, so lost. And yet, this morning, even while I was hiding in my bed crying for my kid, crying for me, crying for the the apparent loss of control in our little life together, He reached out to me through written words, friends, my husband, perfectly timed phone calls. He lifted me up. He Enpowered me through His Never-ending Grace. With that, I can become a more compassionate, patient, strong mother through this trial.

"No one has failed who keeps trying and keeps praying." Jeffrey R. Holland (Source)

Light Through The Cracks

I was with a group of friends recently when I happened to notice one of them in a moment that I am sure she thought no one was paying any attention to her. I was. And I saw The Look. The Look behind The Mask she puts on when she is with people. It's The Look of someone who's soul is locked away in solitary confinement alone with only the sounds of her own pleas for help in the prison of Depression. I know The Look well because I've seen it in the mirror countless times.

I'm one to wear my emotions and almost every thought on my sleeve. I'm an open book. Probably too open. But as I felt the fog of Depression creeping back into my life, my reaction was to close that book to others. I want people to see the happy, loving. silly and fun-loving Mindi. I don't want the dark and twisty Mindi to be known to anyone, including myself. To share this feels shameful and embarrassing. Like I've done something wrong. I'm not praying hard enough, not thinking of others, being selfish or just not focusing on the positive or not exercising enough. But truth be told, that's all bull crap. You can be doing all of that and still get slammed with Depression for no other reason than a chemical imbalance.

I remember the day Robin Williams died. I cried. I sobbed. I cried for him that he felt so hopeless that he felt it was his only choice. I cried for his family and the turmoil they had to be going through. But I mostly cried because I knew exactly how he felt. That was when I knew things were getting bad and I needed to get help but I still put it off. It was after getting together with some friends and I knew I was acting weird and I said something that I knew you just really aren't supposed to say about dying (I can't remember what it was now) and the fact that I wanted to be in a dark room alone instead of with some of my favorite people. I finally got the courage and called my doctor.

I was so afraid to get back on medication because it was so hard to get off it and all I could remember from taking it was some of the side effects that I did not want again. I will be the first to tell you that antidepressants have literally saved my life a couple times now but I did not want to go back to it. Before I started taking them again I was driving and listening to one of my favorite songs. I don't know about anyone else but I can feel a song. A good song can take over and I can feel every emotion the song is expressing from my head to my toes (I know, crazy). I was feeling this song and I came home to ElRey and just sobbed worrying about being able to feel emotions like that (antidepressants can sometimes make you feel numb to emotions).

I just couldn't carry the burden alone any longer. I needed my pleas for help to be heard by speaking up. I was carrying a Santa Claus size sack of rocks that made the simplest action seem too much. Waking up and trying to talk myself into getting out of bed, caring one tiny bit about homework, fighting with myself to even shower. A pile of dishes in the sink..on the counter...scattered on the table could send me back to my bed sobbing. The only reason I could even get my kids to school was I knew if I didn't, they'd be here wanting my attention that I could barely give. I needed to actually see my kids, hear my husband, be present in my rich and beautiful life. I just couldn't do it on my own anymore.

I got in with my doctor about a week before I was supposed to run the marathon I had been training all summer for. I was so deep in it that I didn't even want to run it. I was having a problem with my foot and I was seriously considering just not doing it. I knew that once I had things under control I would be very mad at myself for not doing it so I was hoping that if I got on meds really quick, my desire to do it would be strong enough to get me there. Thanks to my awesome insurance, it took a few more days to get it started and when the night before the race came, I was totally fine if I "accidentally" slept through my alarm.

Despite it all, I made it there. Thanks to help from a friend and another Dr, I had my foot under control (not anything else, mind you) and I lined up at the starting line. I couldn't believe what a great run I had! The nice thing about running is no matter what's going on all you can think about is putting one foot in front of the other. And french fries. But that's it. Everything else melts away. So for a few hours I was free from my sack of rocks. I honestly feel like that day was a gift from God. I got through it and accomplished a goal even with all the mountains and struggles I had along the way. It wasn't all rainbows and butterflies from that day on. In fact, after my other marathons I've lived on the high for weeks, even months but this time it was more of a, "oh good, I got that done. Finally." But I'm ok with that because I didn't give up and I will always be proud of that.

It's not 'perfect' yet but I am getting there. I cheer for myself on the days I stay out of my bed, when I get some exercise, when I laugh with my family, when I witness the beauty around me, when I buckle down and clean my house. I still have days I cannot seem to do more than binge watch Netflix and I'm hoping those days will become fewer and far between. I have amazing people around me cheering me on and loving me even when I'm a being a tool and I am grateful beyond words for their love and support! I don't know how or why I've been so blessed!

So why am I writing this down? I don't really know. I haven't felt this inspired to write in a very long time. I've been trying to fall asleep for hours but this just kept pestering me until I found myself hunched over my laptop. This isn't something I'm proud of so I'm not eager to shout it from the mountaintops. Maybe it's just for me, just something I needed to let spill from my messed up head through my fingers, a release. Or maybe there is someone reading this and it helps you realize that no matter what that dark voice in your head is telling you, no matter how trapped you may feel in that dark cell in your mind and heart you are not alone. There is always help. I had to tell myself that the only way someone will know that I need help is if I speak up. No matter how ugly it feels just go ahead and whisper it, scream it, write it but just get help!

Now don't worry, I'm getting it worked out. I'm being more vocal with ElRey and loved ones so they know where I am in this. I'm not so afraid to be my own advocate anymore. I don't want people wondering if they should take sharp objects from me or if I'm going to randomly break down and cry. I'm working through it and it's getting much better. This doesn't define me even if it is a part of me. I'm learning to not only have more compassion for those around me but more compassion for myself. I have hope that the light blasting through the darkness will get brighter, stronger and that darkness will become a mere pinprick in my soul. Things seem to get brighter everyday.

GOOD Night

I tend to start the day feeling overwhelmed with what's on my plate. Its just an endless list of things needing to be done and I always feel 20 steps behind. And to top it off, I have an energetic and demanding 3 year old at my feet all the time. And to be clear, she doesn't give a darn about that stupid list.

The day ends in a similar fashion, I'm still overwhelmed and even more frustrated at what hasn't been done or did get done only for me to do it all over again.

But today was a little different.  As I lay my head down to go to sleep, I still have lots to do, the list is still endless,  but I'm going to bed satisfied with what I did with my day. I see the tan on my arms from getting a great run in when I thought for sure it wouldn't be happening. I see that each child did their chores with little fuss, piano got practiced after only having to ask twice, and we had a nice time as a family tonight. Lots of smiles, laughter and soul exploding love for these people I call "family".

As I relish in my day knowing that list is still hovering over me, all I can picture is me dancing away with my little girl in the middle of a shoe store to the beat of "Billy Jean" without a care in the world.

I will fall asleep with a smile on my face and joy in my heart.

Just another reminder that God is good and He is ever present with a loving hand in my life.

Empathy

I feel a lot.

Sometimes I wish I could just numb the 'feelings' part of my brain(and the "I really like food" part of my brain but that's a different post).

I'm like a sponge taking on the feelings or attributes of those around me. Even the characters in a book or movie. When I saw the movie "Return to Me" many years ago, I cried for three days. Pretty sure my husband was ready to call the Paddy Wagon. I read a book series about people living during the Ice Age and I suddenly wanted a lot of herbal tea and a hankering for mammoth meat. My mom has told me several times that I need to be careful with what I read because I take on any darkness, sadness or light I may read. Needless to say, I avoid Virginia Woolf after I made the mistake of reading Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar. I've gotten better at compartmentalizing what I read or watch but I still can feel any darkness creeping in and I have to read something light, funny or spiritual for a while.

I can put myself in someone else's shoes with relative ease which tends to put me in uncomfortable situations. At girls camp one year, we were doing an over night back packing trip and I shared a tent with my best friend. That night it rained like there was an ark nearby and my friends sleeping bag got soaked. I hate being cold and wet so I told her she could share mine. She was very little. So we squeezed into my sleeping bag but guess what. I am ridiculously claustrophobic so it wasn't long before I freed myself from my own personal hell into another personal hell. I was wet, cold and wide awake all night. My friend slept great.

I cannot watch the news because I just can't handle all the ugliness. A friend posted a video that showed a woman beating her baby. I'm not kidding. she was beating. A baby. It was a "share this so we can find this woman and bring her to justice" kind of posts. I watched a little bit and cried. All day. Because there was nothing I could do for this baby and knowing she was not the only one living that life was more than I could bear.

If one of my kids gets their heartbroken, my heart is broken. I've been known to be upset and crying
long after they have gotten over it. My oldest has already been in some tough situations and every time she has had to deal with these things at such a young age, I break down. Even dealing with the recent issue, I couldn't talk to her without bawling about it.

I know, I'm a total blast.

It kinda makes me feel a little nuts sometimes. It's not a constant thing, I am usually pretty mellow. I contemplate taking antidepressants almost every month just to tone down the feelings so maybe I can handle these moments a little better. I wouldn't say I was depressed (and, trust me, I have been down that very dark and scary road before) but I can get so weighed down by it all that I just want to crawl into a dark hole and be left alone so I don't have to feel. It's times like this that I am very grateful I haven't taken up drinking. I honestly think I would be a drunk.

The awesome thing about feeling so much is the joy. When I have joy, it's a taste of pure heaven! When I can take a moment to stop worrying about EVERYTHING and feel nothing but that moment, it almost makes the heavier times worth it. Like the times I find myself in a place that is so beautiful it takes my breath away. Having a successful and fun outing with the family. A genuine spiritual experience shared with my family. Or an honest and open conversation with my husband over a quiet dinner together. Laughing at something funny a kid has done or said. Watching the pure joy on my baby's face as we play with bubbles or she sees an airplane in the sky, a horse, a flower.

As I laid in bed last night, feeling way more than I could handle, I thought of someone else Who felt way more than any of us could ever handle. I thought of My Savior Jesus Christ as He took on the pains, sins, sorrows and anguish of the world. And He did it all alone while his friends slept. He plead with The Father that this burden may be removed from Him, knowing full well He was the only one that could do it. An angel was sent to hold Him and strengthen Him, but He had to go it alone. The pain was so much, He bled from every pore. After this very long night, He was betrayed by a friend, taken, tried, whipped and hung on a cross by those who didn't understand.(Luke 22:41-23:46)

He did all this for me. And for you. Because of that, He knows my pains, my struggles and He can be my Angel holding me, strengthening me. He didn't pick and choose what He'd take on, He didn't say, "that person does not deserve this", He didn't shut it down when it became too much. He did it all. For each and every one of us.

He knows my name and I all I have to do is ask. He doesn't care about what I did or didn't do, about what I wear or the stupid things I say. He loves me no matter what. And He will take it on with me. He has taken it on for me.

And for that I am eternally grateful.