JAZZY

Rebekah who has been playing trombone with the District Jazz Band this year, was just chosen to play with the District Honor Band, and Christine just tried out yesterday, and made Jazz Band at the high school as a pianist. We're so proud of both girls!

He Lives to Wipe Away My Tears

I know that my Redeemer lives.

What comfort this sweet sentence gives!

He lives, he lives, who once was dead.

He lives, my everliving Head.

That's why I attend church in the first place.

Not because my parents' taught me to go,

not because that's where my friends and family are.

I go because I know who Jesus is, and what He expects of me.

He lives to bless me with his love.

He lives to plead for me above.

He lives my hungry soul to feed.

He lives to bless in time of need.

I have felt His blessings so many times in my life.

Big huge blessings, that were almost hard to fathom.

Small, little blessings that provided help when I needed it -

like friends coming out into the foyer to help me with James.

He lives to grant me rich supply.

He lives to guide me with his eye.

He lives to comfort me when faint.

He lives to hear my soul's complaint.

He hears it all. He sees it all.

He sees the scars left from

James' fingernails digging into my arms,

the bruises on my arms and legs from

his kicks and his punches

(and that was just during Sacrament Meeting).

He lives to silence all my fears.

He lives to wipe away my tears.

He lives to calm my troubled heart.

He lives all blessings to impart.

He is the only one who truly can

wipe away my tears.

I deal with it the best that I can -

we all do - but sometimes,

I just can't help but cry

(even if it does become a public

display of our family's inner turmoil).

He lives, my kind, wise heav'nly Friend.

He lives and loves me to the end.

He lives, and while he lives, I'll sing.

He lives, my Prophet, Priest, and King.

I don't know how I would make

it through any given day,

without His friendship, His encouragement,

His support, and His love.

He lives and grants me daily breath.

He lives, and I shall conquer death.

He lives my mansion to prepare.

He lives to bring me safely there.

Someday this will all be worth it!

Someday the pains will be righted,

the disabilities that cripple the soul

will be smoothed out, and we will find peace!

He lives! All glory to his name!

He lives, my Savior, still the same.

Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives:

"I know that my Redeemer lives!"

When the day is done,

when the crisis has ended,

when the chips have landed where they will,

that's when eternity comes into view,

at least for a moment, and I can see clearly

what is important, and what is not.

He lives! All glory to his name!

He lives, my Savior, still the same.

Oh, sweet the joy this sentence gives:

"I know that my Redeemer lives!"

Knowing that, I can manage another day,

can endure another trial,

can walk a little longer, and try a little harder.

***********************

Sunday.

Ward Conference.

Erik spoke, but I heard none of it.

I was standing in the hall waiting for James to come out of the bathroom.

He never came out, because he never went in, though he told me that is where he was going.

Turns out, he took a drink, and walked back in the chapel, just as Jalen Andrew and I went out to find him.

His morning walk to church, didn't get his contentious inklings out.

True, he rode the rest of the way to church, without hitting anyone else,

but then he saved that for the quiet, reverent atmosphere of the chapel.

Punching, kicking - Joseph and Christine got the brunt of it this time - no particular reason that it was them, it just was.

How did he get out of my arm's reach anyway?

All the other kids were somehow between he and I.

He had to be moved away from them.

They didn't deserve to be hurt in church.

Do you know how many kicks and punches can be given out, as a mother tries to drag a resistant 7 year old across the laps of his siblings?

A lot.

My turn.

"You're such an idiot, Mom!"

Punch, punch, punch.

Dig the fingernails into my hand (doesn't matter that they were just cut last night, whatever is left of those nails still burns under my skin).

Punch, punch, punch.

When did such a skinny little kid, get to be so strong?

Scratch the nails down my arm,

and then swing a punch at Christine.

Punch, punch, punch, and dig in the nails once more, then try to bite.

We got up and walked out - we? - no, I got up and walked out,

carrying my hymnbook in one hand, trying to hold his heavy, struggling body with my other arm.

I'm pretty sure it looked like I was dragging him.

Maybe I was, but I sure wasn't trying to.

Only 3 pews from the door, but it feels like a much longer walk.

I have no idea if Jalen Andrew is calling after me,

or if Erik's eyes are watching us as we leave,

I hear only the soft but firm words, "You are such an idiot, Mom!"

and can feel my flesh burning from his nails.

Angels.

Angels came to the rescue to sit with him.

Seeing angels always makes me cry.

The tears sting, but not as much as my arms.

I regain composure, at least for the moment.

I listen to the soft sound of Erik's voice,

I try to hear what he is saying, but I can't.

Then.

It is my turn.

I get to sing - sing about my Savior, whom I love.

Not my best intro for a song,

I'm feeling a little shaken up,

but that's okay, my performance doesn't have to be perfect,

my only objective anyway is to bring the spirit in.

I hope people can still feel the spirit.

I'll recover.

I can get through this.

He lives to silence all my fears.

I can't even begin to name all the fears that I have had since I have become a mother.

To name just one,

how will he or I make it through today?

He lives to wipe away my tears.

Never mind today, how will I make it through this song?

The tears began, but wouldn't stop.

No, I didn't forget the words.

No, I didn't get nervous.

No, I didn't lose my place.

No, it's not hard standing up in front of everyone and singing.

It is hard sitting in the front of the chapel, where everyone can see what my son is doing.

Seeing him, but not understanding why.

Stop tears, stop!

But they don't stop.

They boil over from somewhere deep inside.

Christine stands holding Jalen Andrew, watching horror struck as her mother cries a very private pain in a very public place.

"Give me my baby," my arms scream out to her, "give me something to hold - someone who loves me."

I hold him tight, but the tears still flow.

Then I feel warmth, as Erik steps up next to me, his arm around me,

his calming voice singing softly in my ear, singing the words that I cannot sing.

I chime in when I can, my voice still cutting out as the tears continue to roll.

Christine enters again, this time with James.

Seeing his big eyes, taking in the situation, and trying to understand what he has done,

somehow pulls me back.

Erik sits down with Jalen Andrew,

and I finish verse #4, singing mostly to James.

I'm not quiet about the struggles our family goes through,

but still it is embarrassing to show everyone in the ward, all at the same time.

This Sunday was not different than any other Sunday,

except that I don't usually have to get up and sing afterwards.

Then.

Amid one person's struggle,

God creates a miracle of some kind.

So many people saying that they were touched deeply by what they witnessed.

Can't even begin to count the number of hugs and hands that reached out to hold mine as I passed through the halls.

But it was their eyes - the look in their eyes - that captured me.

What was it that they saw?

Love, I guess.

Most didn't see the struggle that had transpired in our family's pew,

but they got to witness the aftermath,

the support and love that we feel for each other.

We'll manage somehow.

We'll make it to eternity one day at a time.

Most of it, won't be pretty, as we muddle through,

trying to understand, trying to repair things that we didn't break,

trying to love when that love gets sucked out of the room,

trying . . .

trying . . .

We'll keep on trying.

*And thank you for the angels who held my hand, caught my eye, hugged me close, and cried with me.

Readin' and Singin'

James, on his own, has made a habit of reading his scriptures each night before going to bed. Always he reads in his closet, and always he reads just before bed. During family scriptures he loves to take his turn reading. He doesn't especially like reading books for enjoyment, and often causes a fuss about having to read his little homework books. When it comes time to read The Book of Mormon as a family, however, he is more than ready. He is good at it too, and reads some really big words without any help from us.

**********

In 2008 we gave the kids the challenge to read The Book of Mormon on their own. Joseph, who was 8 at the time, did a lot of reading, but mostly listened to the scriptures being read on tape as he went to sleep each night. We were so proud of the effort he put in, even if he did sleep through most of the reading. Christine read too, and finished her reading at Girl's Camp. Rebekah dutifully plodded along, but kind of lost her motivation after the other two had finished. At the beginning of this year, we challenged her again to pick up where she had left off, and finish the book. After a lot of effort, she finished her goal today. We took the other kids out to eat at the restaurant of their choice for finishing, so we're looking forward to seeing where Rebekah will choose to go. We're proud of you Rebekah for your commitment and your tenacity! I know that it hasn't been an easy for thing for you, but we're so proud of you for persevering and finishing!

Rebekah's winter band concert was the other night. She looked and sounded beautiful, as always. James fell asleep during the concert, which allowed the rest of us to sit and enjoy it. Jalen Andrew, true to form, entertained all the parents behind us, as he enthusiastically led the music. He was frustrated by the 5th grade beginning band, because their songs were so short. He would just get started leading, when the music would end, and the clapping would begin; he would wrinkle his brow, not sure of what was going on, and would patiently wait for the next song to begin.

********

And as for singing . . . we all know how much Jalen Andrew loves to sing. He sings and directs the music at church, at football games, at band concerts, and during our family devotionals and family home evenings. He's good at it too, and is trying to match his voice to mine as he sings. Well, he did a new one the other day. He took my "to do list" and sang it -over and over and over again - at the top of his lungs. It was way too funny, and we couldn't stop laughing!

Some Serious Singing

What started out as a quiet night of reading before bedtime . . .

turned into a bit of a songfest!

A Little Spiritual Cleaning

My husband and kids hate listening to the radio with me, because I'm very sensitive to musical lyrics and the affect that they have on me, and so I'm always announcing, "Oops, that's a bad song," and switching the channel. It takes me awhile to find anything appropriate to listen to.

Recently Erik and I attended a Stake Youth's Standard's Night with our girls. The topics included dressing modestly and listening to uplifting music. It stirred up inside of me a desire to filter through the songs on our i-pod again. I've done this many times through our married life, and although I think I'm pretty good about listening to the lyrics and only bringing good music into our home, it's amazing to me each time, how I can find more music to delete from our library.

For this purging, I decided to read the lyrics of each song (off the internet) as I listened to the song. I was shocked by the content - the messages embedded in the lyrics. Lyrics that seemed innocent enough suddenly became very clear in their message. I was surprised by the way the lyrics seemed to be just random words until I read them. For instance, just reading lines 1, 2 and 3 really didn't make any sense, but when reading lines 1, 3 & 5 or 2, 4 & 6 the messages became blatant and unmistakable. It took me 3 full days to filter through the music on our i-pod, and the process actually made me physically sick. I couldn't believe how much evil I had been singing and be-bopping to all these years, and bringing into our home.

Call me a prude if you want, I really don't care, because this cleansing experience was incredible. There were times when I still couldn't see anything necessarily "wrong" in the lyrics, and many times in those instances I could spiritually discern the intent of the song. I don't have words to describe how that felt to have the Holy Ghost guiding me that way - it was just incredible!

I got rid of a lot of music. I wish that I had kept track of the number of songs, but I didn't. Although I knew I had the help of the Holy Ghost, the messages and hidden meanings that I encountered really took a toll on my spirit. During the process I felt such darkness, and I had to keep pushing myself to look into the next song and then the next, wanting simply to be done with the whole thing, as soon as possible.

There was only one song that I hesitated momentarily before deleting. My thought process for that song was, "Oh, but I really like that song. I don't have to look at it that way. I can just remember the message that I thought it had." The Spirit quickly countered, "What would you give away to know me?" I didn't think twice about it, and immediately hit the delete button. Funny, even though it was only a couple of weeks ago, and I supposedly LOVED that song, I don't even remember what song it was anymore. After deleting that song, it became easier for me to discern and delete the other songs.

There's not much left on our i-pod anymore. There are a few oldies, lots of Christmas, and lots of gospel music, and a smattering of rock, pop, country, and easy listening - but not much. I don't miss any of it, not even one of the songs that got deleted - in fact, I feel so much more free and unburdened.

I remember when Erik's Mormor was in the process of leaving this earthly life. She had always been such a classy lady, always dressed to the hilt, with plenty of jewelry. I remember Jannicke telling me that in Mormor's last days, she started taking all her jewelry off, almost as if she didn't want to be burdened with it anymore. Removing the jewelry made the world have less of a hold on her spirit as she prepared to return to the presence of her Heavenly Father. Deleting that music was like that for me; with each song that got deleted, I could feel the world holding me down a little less.

It was a good feeling, and hopefully just a beginning. I would give it ALL away to know Him, my God, my Eternal Father, better.