My Garden

I'm starting to really enjoy the fruits of my labor in my little garden. I am harvesting spinach, peas, radishes and zucchini. There are blossoms and small green fruits on the tomato and squash plants. The carrots and beets show promise of a fall harvest. The sunflowers are reaching upward along the wall. The flowers have spread out to fill in the empty spaces and are blossoming in a great variety of colors and shapes. My trees (at least the ones in the garden) are growing into REAL trees instead of twigs. There are less weeds and rocks surfacing. I am basking in the beauty of it all.



Isn't it amazing the joy and satisfaction that can come from a little bit of work, a few seeds, some sun and rain, and the good brown soil. I find myself regularly looking out over the garden from the great room just to smile and nod in pleasure. And yet I am still surprised every time I walk into the back yard and find this small magic place that I have created. And magic it is, considering the way I have killed every plant I've ever tried to grow inside!

And so I am including a few photos so you can enjoy it too!

Loss and Grief

I just finished reading "Out of the Canyon" by Art and Allison Daily. It tells a remarkable story of loss and grief, hope and love. Briefly: Art loses his wife and sons in a freak accident and Allison loses her brother to suicide and her husband to divorce. They assist each other through the grieving process, cultivate a loving relationship, marry and have two sons. All of this is helped along by spiritual experiences involving Art's dead family. Though their experience is unique unto them, their thoughts and feelings, expressed so freely in this book, can be enlightening and inspiring for others as all of us face tragedy and death and loss.

Some thoughts I was drawn to from their book:

"...if an empty space of this dimension suddenly appeared in a forest, I know that nature would fill it with as much lushness and beauty as it could. It's the immutable way of our universe when vacuums occur. The human heart seems a lot like that forest. Shatterings are meant to be mended, holes to be refilled. And I believe that God, who created the extraordinary hearts of all beings, intended that they always be full, and that when they are filled with sorrow, an equal measure of joy must be brought forth in order to restore the essential balance of things. This is the magic of hope, the searing heat and glow of our eternal spirit."

"We must put our love into action, for in loving others, we are loving God himself." (Mother Teresa)

"Grief has no rules."

On Angels
(by Czeslaw Milosz)

day draws near
another one
do what you can

They also suggested two books that "are a must have" for those experiencing great loss. "A Grief Observed" by C.S.Lewis and "Only Spring: On Mourning the Death of My Son" by Gordon Livingston. I haven't had a chance to find them yet, but look forward to seeing what they have to offer.

I'm not, of course, going through any particular grief at this point in my life. I do think, however, that we should be armed with what ever tools we can gather to prepare ourselves for that eventuality. For everyone faces loss, and grief is a universal human experience. When that day comes, may we all find our way "Out of the Canyon" and back into the light of love and joy.

Thinking

I like to think.

I like to sit somewhere quiet and let my mind wander, settle on something and ponder. I like to imagine that I'm the first person to think those thoughts, though I know I'm not that original. I like to think about my family, my habits, my work, my world. I like to think about possibilities and probabilities. I like to think about other people, other nations, other places, other lifestyles. I like to think about spiritual things, personal and sacred ideas that motivate me and inspire me. I like to create things in my mind--food, crafts, gardens, quilts, photographs, gadgets, stories, businesses, vacations. I like to plan for weekly jobs to be done, trips to be taken, lessons and assignments to be completed. I like to review the past and take from it lessons to help my today and tomorrow. I like to visualize the future--my trees grown, the house/motel completely finished and business booming, children all settled and grandkids growing, Seth and I in some foreign land teaching the gospel together.

Boyd K Packer once said, "Thoughts are talks we hold within ourselves." It is common knowledge that I like to talk. So I suppose it is natural that I would like to think, have talks with myself.

I believe that if we can't think it, we can't do it. If we can't think it, we can't believe it. If we can't think it, we can't become it. So, I think....and I like to think.

Admiration

Cokeville had a real small town celebration yesterday for Independence Day. It included a breakfast, a patriotic program, an arts and crafts fair, games for the kids, barbecue and fireworks. It was a real fun day (and a lot of work for the organizing committee, I'm sure).

Sandwiched in between all the other activities was the "Little Miss Cokeville" pageant. This involved 15 participants (girls, ages 6-11) who courageously put themselves out there before a fairly large crowd, dressed in their finest and performing their carefully prepared talents. As you can imagine, there were a lot of jitters--emotions do tend to run high in these situations (especially in little girls and some of their mothers). But there, in charge and cheerfully holding things together, was my daughter Sarah. In spite of the inevitable technical difficulties, the pageant came off without a hitch. The hugs the girls gave each other (and Sarah) at the end showed genuine affection and happy satisfaction and little, if any, jealousy or resentment for the winners. Overall, it was a great success.

Yesterday, I saw in Sarah enthusiasm, willing service, organizational skills, real love and concern for each of those little girls, and more patience than Job. She did a terrific job in an assignment that most of us would decline! And she's MY little girl.

It is quite overwhelming to see my children as adults, capably handling their assignments (and lives) with maturity and empathy and wisdom. After helping them through infant and toddler years, elementary school and volatile teenage crises, it is gratifying to recognize that they have become some of my best teachers, good examples and closest friends. Over the years I have often wondered what I did to deserve such great kids. I love and admire them with all my heart....each one.

"To love is to admire with the heart; to admire is to love with the mind." (Theophile Gautier)