It feels good to be used

I think I realized this morning how MUCH this month has been about me.

My crazy schedule.
My needs.
My tiredness.
My overwhelmed-ness.
My "I'm too busy."

And then Tuesday?
Yeah, that was ALL ABOUT ME.

And so, when I woke up this morning, I asked the Lord to use me if He could.

And, as always, when you ask Him to use you...He does.

I love that tonight on my way home from work, I heard...clearly and distinctly (because too often I'm slow or I hesitate) to put my own little life aside and take dinner...without calling ahead...to a friend with a new baby.

(That idea got planted by Hilary Weeks this weekend at our TOFW event.)

I was worried I was too late.
I was worried I'd be imposing.

But, there were tears in their eyes when they opened the door...
and an opened package of Top Ramen waiting for the water to boil on the stove.
And I just walked in and took off my coat, trusting the Lord really did need to use me.

And it felt good to hold the baby while they laughed and ate in the kitchen.
And it felt good to tell them I had an hour but end up helping for two.
And it felt good to have them say, "you were an answer to prayers."
But it felt better to be able to respond, "actually, you were an answer to MINE."

Because it feels good to know I was needed.
And it feels good to know He let me...
...be used.
(Hmm...does that make it about me again?)

This wasn't about me serving or trying to do good.
It was about me wanting...needing...to feel good.

Observations from my much-needed day off

- I'm glad I don't have a family dog who needed to go for a walk this morning.

- The treadmill inside my warm house can be a better option than the path ouside at cold SugarHouse park.

- I think I realized I eat out a lot & so when given the choice I actually prefer a homemade lunch. My nearly famous (for the few who've been lucky enough to partake) Grilled Cheese & Chutney sandwich on multi-grain bread? Yep. Today it was perfect.

- The post office has 4 open counters at 2:00 in the afternoon when there are only 3 people needing assistance. And yet, they have 2 open counters at 9:00 in the morning when there are like 11 people who need help. What is up with that?

- I like to clean my kitchen, including a mopped floor & everything! I know. I can't believe it either.

- I've seen way too many episodes of Law & Order to be completely comfortable in an empty movie theater with exit doors (and thus entrance doors for crazy psychos) leading right out onto state street.

- But its more comfortable to sit there alone than to have someone come in as the movie starts and sit just 2 seats away from me on the same aisle. Who does that? It's just creepy...

- Last Chance Harvey is one of the most delightful, albeit sweetly predictable, movies I've seen in a really long time. Stop whatever you are doing and make plans to see it this week.

- And what does it say about me that the memorable line for me was: "I think I'm more comfortable with being disappointed and I think I'm angry with you for taking that away." (oh....SO much we could say about my connection to that line and my past few relationship situations...)

- Shopping at Macy's is fun but making the return & NOT buying something else because me & hubby are still paying off my student loans & I wanted to show him my priorities are straight...yeah, that is even funner.

- You don't realize how long it's been since you sat and took a deep deep breath, until you sit and take one.

It's been a great and much needed relaxing AND productive day. And I have much needed clarity. It's also been an amazing though exhausting couple of weeks and I am truly grateful for my life.

My good good life.

And though, it would have been fun to pick the kiddos up on the way home from my day...and have a hubby come through the door with a "I decided to cancel the trip"...so we could all have dinner together tonight...

Though that would have been fun...

Life is good.
It's very very good.

Laurel's "stay-at-home mom" day

Tomorrow I'm pretending to be a stay-at-home mom
who's hubby is leaving on a business trip
and who's kids are getting farmed out
and who doesn't have any laundry to do
or a house to clean
or a church assignment to fulfill
or errands to run.

(And I PROMISE I know that this is a rare thing for stay-at-home moms. I'm friends with PLENTY of you...But, sometimes when you are a really tired working girl, it's fun to pretend.)

SO, tomorrow, in my world, as a stay-at-home mom, I will:

- wake up with the sun (since I don't have to make breakfast for the family)

- take a jog through SugarHouse Park (with the family dog)

- return some clothes to Macy's (and maybe pick up a little extra something because my hubby said I should)

- go to lunch somewhere yummy (totally by myself because I never get out of the house alone)

- find a movie to go see (turning off my cell phone to really get a break. I mean, did you see that picture of me above? I am a busy multi-tasking chick!)

The meltdown never came. (God really is SO good!)
And I think I just need a little rejuvenation.
So I'm doing it.

And it feels good.
Really really good.

I haven't even started my day of pretending yet, and already I could get used to this.

Oh, gotta run.
Hubby's calling us to family prayer.
He's so good like that.

Too many for Him?

I sat down in Sunday School yesterday and someone asked me how I was doing. "I'm so tired", I heard my little spirit say out loud. She said, "we have church at 12:30 now. You shouldn't be tired!"

I knew I couldn't even start to try and explain.
The meltdown I had been pushing aside since Saturday afternoon was bubbling up again.

I got in my car right after Church. I had everything I needed to rush to my 4+ hour next assignment. And half-way there, I started to weep in my car.

I was not sad.
I was just physically and mentally exhausted.
And also grateful and overwhelmed by my feelings...yet, knew there was no time for a meltdown and so I asked for a little more time...again.

And at the end of the 4+ hours, I found myself driving home...wanting to talk about it all and not having anyone to talk to it about. And not because I don't have anyone to call. And not because I don't know other people who would "get it". But, I just didn't even want to do the work it would take to actually do the talking.

And so, I just talked to Him for a little while and eventually fell asleep.

Yesterday as I was partaking of the sacrament, I was spent and didn't see how I could possibly get done all the things He was needing me to do. And I found myself reading Judges 6 & 7...the story of Gideon. Do you remember it?

Gideon needed an army in order to free the children of Israel from the Midianites. And he had access to a big army...plenty big enough to accomplish the task.

BUT...

The Lord said, "The people that are with thee are TOO MANY FOR ME to give the Midianites into their hands, lest Israel vaunt themselves against me, saying, Mine own hand hath saved me." (Judges 7:2)

Sometimes people say, "the Lord won't give you anything you can't handle."

He will.
He absolutely will.

He does.
He absolutely does.

If He did not, we would never be brought to the place of total and utter dependance on Him...the place of asking for His delivery, getting it, and then KNOWING that it was HIS hand, not OUR hand, that saved us.

And right now, at 3:00 in the morning...when the meltdown still hasn't come and somehow I have it in me to keep moving forward to do what needs to be done today?

Yes, right now, I see clearly that He doesn't want there to be "too many" ways to do what needs to be done, lest I vaunt myself and think in any way, my own ability, my own energy, my own hand...got it done.

And I know I'm not unique.
And I know I'm not alone.

He's doing the same for my dear friend who is feeling "done" with the physical exhaustion of being a new Dad, trying to survive one more day on "new parent sleep". This time will eventually pass and he'll see it was HIS hand that got him through.

He's doing the same for another dear friend who doesn't YET see a way out of the trap she is in and can't imagine there being a better life waiting for her. She'll eventually have new doors opened to her and she'll see it was HIS hand that opened them.

He's doing the same thing for countless others.
The list could go on and on.

This little period of time will pass but not without my knowledge that HE got me through it.
The meltdown just might never come but not without my knowledge that HE helped me have it in little spurts 'til I got it out of my system.
The "to do list" will get finished but not without the knowledge that HE checked those things off for me.

When there doesn't seem to be enough to get it all done, maybe one more person to help...or one more ounce of energy to survive...is just "too many" for Him. Lest you have no need to ask for His help and then have room for ANY DOUBT it was HIS HANDS, not your own, that saved you.

There's no doubt Who is doing the saving here.

No words

I know that's a shock.
And I've tried so hard to process my feelings and thoughts of the last 24+ hours.

I've felt the need to share it.
Shout it from the rooftops.
Communicate what has happened.

All I have is this:
I'm exhausted.
I don't remember the last time I was this tired.

And I don't remember ever feeling this level of physical exhaustion caused by physical and spiritual work...not even on my mission.

Which is why, yesterday at 3:45 p.m., when we finished our first 3-day event (only to have to come home last night to prep for a large Church training meeting I was involved with today), I walked to the corner of the back of the stage...

And sobbed.

Wanting to collapse, I bent over and I sobbed.

I knew.
I KNEW...
that the Lord had sustained me.
He had pulled off a miracle.
And had allowed me to be a part of it.

And all I could say, over and over again...
through the sobs...
while trying to take a breath was...

THANK YOU.
THANK YOU.
THANK YOU.

I am overwhelmed, not just by the tasks that lay before me but by the undeniable witness that when it is HIS work, it gets done...not because of us...but inspite of us.

I have seen His hand before.
I have felt His sustaining power before.
I have witnessed His grace before.

But, something about this time is different.

And I have no words.
So I borrow another's:

I know that I am nothing;
as to my strength I am weak;
therefore I will not boast of myself,
but I will boast of my God,
for in his strength I can do all things...
Therefore, let [me] glory,
yea, [I] will glory in the Lord;
yea, [I] will rejoice, for [my] joy is full;
yea, [I] will praise [my] God forever.
Behold, who can glory too much in the Lord?
Yea, who can say too much of his great power,
and of his mercy, and of his long suffering towards [me]?
Behold, I say unto you,
I cannot say the smallest part which I feel.

I cannot.
I want to.
But, I can't.
I simply have no words.

Home Depot & ... flirting???

"You can do it. We can help."

That's the trademarked slogan for
Home Depot.
I always thought they were talking about home improvement.
Who knew that they were talking about flirting too?

I have a few friends who tell me I'm a flirt.
I laugh because I'm generally a nerd around men (unless their married. I'm completely delightful around married men)...and nerds don't flirt.

But, lately, I've been working on it (I realize that sounds totally lame) and every now and then I can tell I'm actually doing it.
The flirting, I mean.

Enter Shawn at the service area of Home Depot on my way home from work.

Say I, "I have this Martin Garage Door opener that isn't working anymore and I really want to get it fixed (and holy cow your eyes are amazing) because I had a little break in. Can you help me?"

Shawn takes the remote and opens it.
Tells me what battery I'll need and says, "just come with me" (and not in a "oh, alright, I guess I'll help you" sort of way).

"I love Home Depot. This should be a commercial."
(What was that, Laurel? what are you saying? He's the guy at the SERVICE counter. He's supposed to be helping you. Abort. Abort.)

"Oh, really? Why's that?"

(I don't know. I have no idea what to say next. But, your eyes are amazing and you just have that "what a nice guy" look. Are you straight? Over the age of the 32? I can't tell. I can't tell.)

"Nothing", I kind of half-laugh.

We (and by "we", I mean "cute shawn with the amazing eyes") find the right battery and he starts to tell me how to sync it up with my opener.
I use my classic "dad" line (because my dad says it all the time), "Can any dummy do it?"

"No, but I bet you can."
(what was that? Was that cute flirting?)

"And if I can't?"
(I know...I even surprised myself with that one. Well done, Laurel. Well done.)
"Do you make house calls on the side?"
(LAUREL! do you remember you just had a break in? Who are you? And what have you done with the girl who gets nervous around men? Amazing eyes do not a "safe guy" make.)

He laughed. I did the arm thing (Tammy taught me that). We talked about his name...he shares a last name with a friend and before I knew it we were talking about Wyoming and dead grandmas (just trust me on the connection there) and laughing.

But, here's the problem...I don't know where to go after that.
Do I accidentally drop my drivers license?
(that would still have my wrong address on it...I have GOT to get that changed!)
Do I actually say, "you should call me"?
(who says that? do people even still say that in the 21st century?)
Do I find a reason to go back?
(the garage door worked the first try...don't think I was secretly hoping it wouldn't.)

And then do I risk the, "Oh, I'm sorry...I'm married."

Well, at any rate, every little bit of practice surely helps.
And if life really is a Jane Austen novel, we'll meet again.

And in the meantime?
I can do it.
And apparently, Home Depot can help.

Gone but here

Gone are the cute high heels.
Here will be the shoes that I wear at my events.

Gone are the straight knee-length skirts.
Here will be the "floor friendly" fashions.

Gone are the excuses for strength training.
Here will be the mornings of squats to strengthen my knees.

Gone are the moments of ignoring that my ovaries hurt.
Here will be days of getting my fill of cute little munchkins.

Gone are the questions of "Are you listening, Lord?"
Here will be the answers "Heavenly Father is watching you."

Gone are the lessons that sometimes impress.
Here will be the opportunities to teach with pure motives.

Gone are the Sundays that are all about filling my cup.
Here will be the Sabbaths that are all about filling their little ones to overflowing.

I just spent my first of many Sundays to come in the nursery with the "2 going on 3" year olds.

One more way, lately, the Lord is making my life enough...
not for Him...
but for me.

And know you'll know...

the rest of the story.

Couple of things to help you fully appreciate this short Sundance-worthy film:
a.) If you listen right at the beginning, the officer actually says, "You wanna know how to get out of this ticket?

b.) I totally ignore Noah (Erin...shhhh.) who is trying to talk at the beginning. I'm such a jerk...I didn't realize it until I saw this. I should walk around video taping my interactions with people more often. Do I really not listen to other people?? (don't answer that if you're one of the "other people".)He was trying to get me to shut up lest I dug myself a bigger hole...but mostly I totally ignored him. (Thanks for overlooking that!).

c.) Noah is on his BlackBerry which is why he's looking down. He's not shy. And yes, those sunglasses totally make him look like he should be in a Top Gun sequel.

d.)When I say "that officer said he should give me 2", you hear Officer Millett laughing in the background...go ahead, listen again.

e.) I clearly didn't know how to take my camera off "zoom in" once I went there.

f.) Yes, watching this makes me realize I'm a tich obnoxious. Working on that.

g.) And YES, David, I know I have a weird lisp...I was chewing gum. And I was a little nervous. AND I was trying to talk a cop out of a speeding ticket. Mission accomplished, btw...at least for the speeding.



I have like 5 started-but-not-finished posts.
Be back soon.

Someones to watch over me...

(my apologies in advance to my cute mom & dad who are finding out about this on my blog...it's been a crazy week and I know we need to catch up.)

Yesterday morning I was saying my prayers at about 6:15 a.m. when I heard the sound of heavy garbage cans moving outside.

"Someone must be taking out the trash," I said in the middle of my prayer.

"But it's not trash day" I quickly responded.

I finished my prayer and opened my front door (there's a locked glass and metal framed door between the outside and my front door, lest you think i'm an idiot for opening my door).
The garage door was up.
Again.

"Close the door and call the police," I felt the spirit say.

They came...it took nearly 8 minutes.
"Good thing no one is trying to kill me, eh?" I said to the dispatcher at minute 6.
When the two officers arrived, they looked around...flashlights out...hands on their guns...and found nothing.
Tried to tell me that garage doors come up on their own sometimes.
But, I HEARD whoever it was.
I felt dumb and bugged and then hurried off to my work obligation and haven't thought about it much more sense.

Because here's the thing...
I don't feel unsafe.
I don't feel worried.
I don't feel paranoid.

I probably should.
But, I don't.

You see, ever since since some things from my Grandpa & Grandma came to stay in my home for a little while, I have had this intense feeling I'm being watched over.
Truly.
And I have felt a measure of their spirits.
Literally.

And I know that I have a Father in Heaven who is ALWAYS watching over me.
I KNOW that.
But, sometimes bad things still happen to good people and I just kind of like knowing that maybe I have a few other people now paying extra special attention.
Pointing out the need for a few more angels to "head over to Laurel's".
Interrupting planning meetings to request extra help for my situation.
Keeping me safe.

In addition to them maybe preparing my children-
or helping the planets align to meet my husband-
or working things out for other areas of my life-

I believe they are watching over me...protecting me...inspiring me...whispering to me...literally...

"...the Father of us all is watching and assisting. And always there are those angels who come and go all around us, seen and unseen, known and unknown, mortal and immortal." (Elder Jeffrey R. Holland.)

And sometimes that's all a girl needs to know.
ALWAYS, there is someone...maybe several someones...watching over me.


(so much to share...and hope to find time for some blogging this weekend.)

Do I stinketh?

I hate to admit it, but I think I do.
I think I might stinketh.
Let me explain...

I'm not a conspiracy nut.
I mean, my first research paper ever (in 4th grade, thank you very much) was entitled: WHO KILLED LEE HARVEY OSWALD
But didn't every 4th grader write about that?

And I don't think this is a conspiracy anyway, but a couple of months ago after like the umpteenth woman in my life was diagnosed with breast cancer, I finally had just had enough.

It makes me SO mad.
Surely there is something going on...

And I started thinking.
These women have all been very different.
They've ranged in ages from 30-65.
They've been all sizes.
They've been all exercise levels.
They've had all eating habits.
What on earth is going on that so many woman have breast cancer?
What is the common thing?

And I know this is probably crazy and I promise I'm not a nut (though definitely a little less "not a nut" since shopping at Whole Foods Market, but I digress...) but the only thing I could think of that all the women have in common?

Deodorant.

Think about it.
We use it every day.
We put it on our underarms, right near our breast tissue.
It actually goes into our skin.
Have you read the "warnings" of deodorant lately?
Hello...kind of disturbing.

So, I got kind of freaked out every morning when I would put it on.
Really, I got kind of weird about it.
So I decided to look at alternatives.
A friend of mine made the switch to "natural" deodorant. She said he hubby thought she smelled for a while but eventually her body got used to it (or his nose did). It took about a month.

SO...while at Whole Foods, I bought this:
(I did my homework, people): And finally started using it Sunday.

Sunday: smelled the lovely natural lavender for a while and then, stinketh
Monday: smelled the lovely natural lavendar most of the day and really, no stinketh
Tuesday: applied once after the shower and once right before getting dressed and I don't STINK as much as I just don't smell as good as I'd like to.

But, I figure now's a good time--
--It's January...we bundle up. Layers create a barrier to the "odor".

--I'm not really dating anyone...And even if I WAS, if he really loved me, he wouldn't even notice, right? (That's always been my "take away" from King Lamoni's wife. I mean, he was dead...they said "he stinketh"...he surely smelled FAR WORSE than I do right now and yet...to her, he did not stink. How sweet is that?)

--And really, I don't notice that I don't smell "shower fresh" until about 4:00...and then by then, is anyone really even noticing anymore?

So, the question for the jury:

What think ye?
Worth the experiment?
How long do I give it?

And, until I decide...the next time you're around me, will you tell me if I stinketh to you?

I'm not a harlot!

I'm not!
I'm not!
(Today just can't end without this post.)

Several years ago, I served as a leader in the Primary (Children's) organization at Church. I was responsible for the gift the children were going to give their dad's for Father's Day.

I wrote this cute little poem that was to be put on a card and tied to a little baggie of Hershey's kisses. It went something like this:
K is for the kindess you show to me each day
I is for the incredible man you are in every way
S is for the special times we share and all you do
Another
S and that spells "KISS", a kiss from me to you.

It was barely cute.
It was barely clever.
But it surely was good enough to be a sweet little gift for the kids to give to their dads.

I was really busy that week and so one of the women I served with offerred to assemble the little gifts. She would take the poem, copy it onto cardstock and then attach it to the little baggies.

I was grateful to have the help.

The appointed Sabbath Father's Day came.
And at the end of church, I stood at the door and helped pass out the goodies to the children as they left the Primary room.
"Give this to your dad", I would say as I handed them their treat.
"This is for your dad. Make sure to give it to him when you get home!"

I think I was maybe to the second to the last baggie when I looked down to see the cute little card.
And then I yelled.

"NO! NO! NO!"

"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!"

To my horror, TO MY HORROR, the well-meaning gift assembler had put MY NAME as the author of the poem...but JUST MY NAME...so imagine, the poem (yes, scroll up and read it again) with a " - Laurel Christensen" at the bottom...being given to ALL the children with the simple instructions of "give this to your dad".

I was horrified.
Seriously.
And when I got home, there were several voicemails waiting for me.

One was from the Relief Society President:
"Laurel, would you like to explain to me why you gave a 'kissing' poem to my little Richard asking him to give it to his father? Is there something you need to tell me?"

And another:
"Laurel, my husband loved his gift and said he'll meet you at the corner in 10 minutes."

I was teasingly called "the ward harlot" the rest of the time I was in that ward.
(it still makes me giggle...and cringe...all at the same time).

Why that story tonight?

Well, there is this really great kind single father in my ward who comes to church every Sunday with his 2 boys. I've been totally impressed by him AND he's been really sweet about shoveling my walkway and driveway almost every time it has snowed. And, well, when a nice committed single guy shovels your walkway and driveway almost every time it snows? Yeah, you pay attention.

I was careful at first, of course...no wedding band doesn't always mean single. But, I didn't notice him ever with anyone but his boys and even asked about him (very casually, of course) to make sure.

I hadn't said anything to anyone about my potential new crush, of course...but had determined that TODAY would be the day I would find out more about him.

I was sitting in Relief Society talking to a new friend. She leads the music in Sacrament meeting and we've talked a few times. She seems to genuinely like me and has made efforts to get to know me. I wondered if she would be "safe" to talk to.

We were chit-chatting and she mentioned something about her sons.

"Oh, you have boys?"

"Yes, they are teenagers."

"Oh. Did one of them bless the sacrament today?" I asked trying to put faces to names.

"No, but you'd know them. They have red hair."

("Well,isn't that interesting," I wanted to say. "My new crush's sons also have red hair.")

"Oh, Brother Smith has a red-head that shovels snow with him sometimes. He seems like such a great guy. He's been shoveling my snow after almost every storm. I totally need to do something nice for him. Do you know Brother Smith?"

"Yes, I know him well."

"Oh, really. How well?"

"He's my husband."

"OH! That's so great" I say, kind of wanting to die.

"He doesn't wear a wedding ring so sometimes people think he's single...since I'm always up on the stand leading the music...and he sits alone with the boys. Did you think he was single?"

"What? Oh my goodness...NO...no...I've learned better than to assume any guy is single."

We both giggled.

And then I thought of the "poem incident" and said a silent "thank you prayer" that I found this out before Father's Day...I was totally thinking of trying the "kiss" poem on a NON-husband this year...

I'm not really a harlot.
Am I?

Make it enough, Lord.

I had an experience Thursday morning that is still lingering with me and that is one of the ways I know of its truth.
Truth for me, perhaps.
But, truth worth sharing.

I've talked before about the hole in my heart.

Well, it's still ever present.
But, I'm okay with that because I believe it's supposed to be.

And it hasn't been making me sad necessarily.
But it's been making me feel...
...
...
I don't know quite how to articulate it,
but do you know what I mean?

And Thursday morning as I was spending a little more time on my knees (because that's what I really needed that morning), I was talking to God about it.

And I was actually thinking about ways that hole could be filled in 2009.
All of the amazing ways.
And I started getting ready to share those ways with Him.

But, I was stopped.
I wasn't stopped by any force or any power.
I'm not saying that at all.
But, it was as if my spirit stopped talking right before my body caught up.
I'm a believer that when we listen to THE Spirit...or even just OUR spirit...we pray differently than when we are just talking.

And for some reason, I felt that the things I was getting ready to pray for weren't right. And it's not that they weren't righteous or worthy...they just weren't right.

Because I needed to pray for something else.

And these are words that first left my lips about a month ago while I was in the temple.
But I didn't really understand fully what it meant for me.

And so maybe that's why I needed to say the prayer again.

"Make it enough."

I must have said it three or four times.
And then, while still in prayer, I thought about the widow of Zarephath.
And while I've always liked her story, she hasn't often made it into my prayer.
And then, before I could fully process that, I thought of the miracle of the loaves and the fishes.

"Make it enough. Please just make my life enough right now."

While still kneeling, I grabbed my scriptures...something I haven't done nearly enough lately but have felt prompted...invited...no, compelled...to do lately.

And I reread the story in 1 Kings 17.
I think I always thought the cruse of oil and the barrel of meal just kept multiplying in order to make it enough.
But, it doesn't say that.

And so then, I read Matthew 14. And the same accounts recorded by Mark...and Luke...and John.
And I think I always thought the 5 loaves and the 2 small fishes were multiplied in order to make them enough.
But, it doesn't say that either.

Go ahead and read it all for yourself.

It's not that the Lord gave them MORE.
Maybe He did.
Maybe He did.
But, it doesn't say that.

All we know is that He took what they had
be it oil
or meal
or bread
or fish;
He took what was already there and just made it ENOUGH.

I don't need MORE in my life.
I have meaningful relationships.
I have a faith that sustains me.
I have great friends.
I have a job I'm passionate about.
I have incredible and plentiful opportunities for service.
Frankly, I don't have room or time for MORE.
I just need what I have...the blessed life I have...
I just need it to be ENOUGH.

Enough to fill the hole.
Enough to feel content.
Just for now,
I need it to be enough...
so that I can feel...
whatever it is He wants to teach me.

Ah...now I get it.

This morning I rediscovered this 1973 gem:

MAY YOU HAVE...
Enough happiness to keep you sweet,
Enough trials to keep you strong,
Enough sorrow to keep you human,
Enough hope to keep you happy,
Enough failure to keep you humble,
Enough success to keep you eager,
Enough wealth to meet your needs,
Enough enthusiasm to look forward,
Enough friends to give you comfort,
Enough faith to banish depression,
Enough determination to make each date better than yesterday.

Make it enough, Lord.

Thank You...for making it enough.

My unwritten resolution

My 2009 New Year's Resolution that I said I wouldn't list...
is to just do every day what needs to be done.
I don't want a long list...
I just want to approach every day with a commitment to do what I need to do.

I might need to exercise.
I might need to spend more time in prayer.
I might need to call a friend.
I might need to read my scriptures longer.
I might need to go to the temple.
I might need to work more.
I might need to work less.
I might need to clean my bathroom.
I might need to say "I'm sorry".
I might need to say "I love you."
I might need to pay more towards my student loan.
I might need to drink more water.
I might need to eat more veggies.
I might need to not buy any more shoes (but that would be CRAZY).

Do I need to do all of these things every day?
Well, I probably should.
But, I won't.
I know I won't do all these things every day.
And so I'm not going to expect it of myself...
And set myself up for any reason to feel like I've failed.

But, I do believe I'll know everyday, if I sincerely ask the Lord, what is needful THAT day.
What He needs me to do...that day.
What my spirit needs me to do...that day.

And that's my unspoken unwritten goal...
that I just wrote down.
And I guess there's something to that.

So far today, I did pretty good...on the things I really needed to do.
Not a list.
Just what needed to be done.

This unwritten resolution thing just might be the thing that works.