Bearing one anothers Burdens

"...and now, as ye are desirous to come into the fold of God, and to be called his people, and are willing to bear one another's burdens, that they may be light." -Mosiah 18:8

I am the oldest of six children and being so I have always wanted to take care of those around me and make things right.  I used to think that when someone around me was dealing with a problem I had one of two options: 

 1-  I worried myself sick thinking about their problem and often felt helpless

or

 2-  I tried to fix it for them.

The wiser me now knows there is also a third- and much better option: 

3- I can let the person own their own problem and grow and learn by having to solve it or work through it themselves. 

When I choose to do this I allow myself to have empathy without experiencing anxiety.  I have found it is mentally and spiritually a much healthier approach for me.  As I learn to do it better, I am able to be a stabilizing, calm and positive force for those around me. Their problems may be causing them temporary chaos and stress.  But I can be faithfully optimistic and encourage them to come up with some inspired solutions of their own. 

Seeking for the Lord's help in resolving their troubles can help build their faith and confidence in understanding how the spirit works personally with them.  This spiritual tool is an essential one that they can learn to use throughout their entire lives with any problem or difficulty that may encounter.

   

Some time ago I wrote these words in my journal that apply so well to what I was thinking today....

I must learn after doing all that I can do, to let things go....A good example is schoolwork.  After helping my kids by encouraging them to do homework, showing them how to fill out a planner and trying to enforce a study time each day, they must then be in charge of their grades not me.  I cannot feel like a failure if they choose to fail...they must learn to be in charge of their own destiny.  Another example.... My oldest child is now an adult, who must be in charge of her own life.  She is able to learn things through trial and error, and to establish values and beliefs based on her own experiences in the world.  It is my job to be her exemplar, mother, confidant and cheerleader.  Encouraging her towards becoming her best and showing her I care by loving her and leading a gospel based life is how I can best help. The rest must be left up to her.

Being a micro manager over everyone- my husband, my kids and my extended family is exhausting.  I must learn to let it go and realize that a leader must simply set the pace not continually carry everyone else's backpacks.

My Angel

                                                            

My daughter is my angel.

She's light and love and peace.

She wakes me with her morning knock,

when I am sound asleep.

I hear her feet come shuffling in,

 a blanket in her arms.

I pick her up, she snuggles close.

 She's soft and wiggly and warm.

 Her soft little hands touch my face.

Her eyes alight with love.

 She gives a tickle to her Dad,

with a gentle kiss and hug.

 I ponder now on all that transpired,

and how she came to be.

I can't imagine I could be so blessed,

to have God send this angel to me.

Fellow Traveler

Along life's path I see them.
Some faces
appear weary
from the journey thus far.

Others are harder to read.
Though outward lighthearted.
Inward perhaps
a heart heavy.

What a difference I might make,
if I stop to recognize
these nameless faces
as fellow travelers.

Treading a path similar to my own.
With joys, sorrows and struggles.
All combining to create
a part of their story, their journey.

What would it mean to them,
if I took the time to listen and care?
If I offered a reassuring hand
to help steady my fellow traveler.

What does it mean to me?
When I am in the depths of despair.
To have someone try to understand,
or to hold my trembling hands.

Calm reassurance enters my soul.
To know that I am not alone.
That others walk this path with me.
A great blessing to this life of mine.

Time in Grandpa's Garden

We make the dusty trek from the house to the old mink sheds, just he and I. My small feet follow him as he pauses at his garden, taking me down each row to show me his latest production. He bends down with his arthritic knees and picks a few ripe tomatoes, a cucumber and then a of couple handfuls of beans. He puts them into a plastic sack for me to take home. I love eating things he's grown, they always tasted better than store bought stuff. We venture out of the garden and head towards the sheds. The mink rapidly bob their heads in and out of their cages, as if to see who's there. Grandpa helps me up onto his feed truck, already filled with a sloppy unattractive mixture. He climbs on and we ride from pen to pen dumping food into each trough. Once feeding chores are through we head back up to the house. We talk about things. When Grandpa tells you a story he seems to really get right down on your level, as if you were really his best friend and not just some little kid. He'd tell me I was his favorite (and although now I'm sure he had a lot of favorites) somehow he made me believe each time I was with him it really was true.

 

(These pictures were taken back in 1996. Here my Grandpa

shows his great-grandchildren his love for gardening.

left to right: Colton age 3, Tayler age 6 and Mackenzie 5).
 

 

In 2004 my grandpa passed away in his garden. He had been alone for a number of years after my grandma died and felt extremely lonely. His garden helped to keep him busy during the day but he always said that night time was the worst. A few years later he was reunited with a friend named Mern, who was also a widow. They eventually married and Grandpa moved to her home in Provo and began a  small garden there. He still loved working the soil and sharing what he had grown with others. To him it was a bit of paradise here on earth. How perfectly fitting that he should die there. It was a Saturday morning and he had been out digging and preparing the ground for planting. He sat down to rest for a while on a chair right in the middle of his garden. A neighbor noticed he hadn't moved in quite some time and alerted his wife Mern. I think it was a tender mercy that he could pass on in such a beautiful and peaceful setting. A place where he loved to be most often. A place where he now could rest.