Monday, August 24, 2009

Dedication

We had the privilege of not having regular schedule church meetings today. My younger kids were celebrating a day off from church. What is wrong with that picture. But instead members of the church in the Salt Lake area were able to participate in the Oquirrh Mountain Temple dedication.
Hubby and I were able to bring our oldest with us. Only those 8 and up are able to attend.
I was feeling especially proud to have MTV with us. I thought how special it was to spend time with just her.
And this always present nag was there too...there should be someone else enjoying the dedication with us too. He would be 9 and thus old enough to attend. So again I felt that "empty aching arms" feeling.

But as I was feeling sorry for myself...my thoughts turned to another temple dedication I attended. Almost exactly 9 years ago (August 26,2000) I was sitting outside the celestial room in the Houston Texas temple.

(Houston Texas Temple)

Oh how I grew to love that temple. It was a place of special memories, a place of priceless teaching and a place of refuge from the storm.
The temple open house was the last major family outing we had with our Mason. We took random pictures that day..but who knew they would turn out to be the last. But they were also the best pictures we had ever captured of Mason. He was so happy...so smiley...so full of life.
Weeks after the open house, hubby and I sat quietly, reverently waiting for the dedication to begin. My heart was full, my thoughts were on my little son at home who was getting sicker. We heard some people coming and our little group quickly rose to our feet, as our dear prophet at the time, President Hinckely, entered the room. He stood and in his usual peppy optimistic demeanor, he stopped and greeted us. I wanted to reach out and grabbed his hand and beg him to go bless our baby. OR maybe more likely I wanted him to go command a healing blessing upon our son. I could not hold back the tears and emotion at that thought. If only a prophet of the Lord could touch and bless Mason then he could be made whole.

As I resisted the urge to lunge at our sweet prophet...a thought, an impression, a revelation was given to me. I turned to look at my husband and in that moment I knew that the same priesthood power that President Hinckley had to bless the sick was the same priesthood power that Mason's Dad beheld. And that there was no one on this earth who would have wanted to save his child more. I watched countless times over the past 8 months as hubby laid his hands on my head to bless this baby while I was still carrying him and then many times over he blessed Mason with strength, comfort, peace and healing.

The temple is truly a place of learning, a place of teaching. And I was taught that day to trust in my husbands priesthood power. I am so blessed to have that priesthood power right in my home to be used at a moments notice. I learned to never take that for granted.

And finally the temple became a house of refuge to us in our deepest moment of grief. After having exercised all the faith, hope and prayers that we could muster, Mason had a much greater calling and returned to the one who gave him life. Exactly a week to the day of the temple dedication...we were now standing in the holiest of places for a much different reason. A place to grieve, a place to ponder, a place to express gratitude, a place to feel His spirit around us. I can't remember how long we lingered in the celestial room trying to reconcile his birth, his life, and his death. Trying to imagine with our celestial eyes what our reunion would be like. Trying to find peace at the deepest sorrow of our life. Trying to find the promise amidst the pain. Trying to exercise faith in His eternal plan for Mason and for us. Trying to grasp the depths of what lay ahead and what huge responsibility we have as parents to make it back to our son.

Those are the thoughts I had as I waited for the new temple dedication to begin. I looked over at my eternal companion and my eldest daughter. These are the 2 people who were with me all the way through the incredible journey of my Gethsemane. These are the 2 who helped me heal, who wiped away the tears, and helped me laugh again. And now I was sharing another eternal bond with them inside the church building which was an extension of the temple that day.

It was then that I had a small glimpse of what our eternal family would be like. I am grateful for the outpouring of the Spirit that day to remind me of how blessed I am to have had a temple near me at the time I needed it most. And how blessed that I can go there and still feel connected to Mason as I think of the missionary work he is doing for our ancestors on the other side. And how Mason still needs me to finish the work he is doing by doing their baptisms and ordinances so they can receive the full blessings of the gospel of Christ.

Heavenly Father sends me tender mercies of thoughts like this often and when I need it the most.

Thursday, August 20, 2009

SkOol DaZe

6:30 came bright and early this morning, as we dragged our summer lazy bodies out of bed. I was trying to keep my eyes propped open and put a little war paint on my dark circles before I woke Ra-Ra up. And before I could even wipe the sleep out of my eye...my little blonde hair beauty came bouncing into my bathroom fully dressed in her new little school uniform...ready to take on the day.
What my children lack in physical similarities to the one who bore them life...they make up in similarities to my personality. No, not one of morning optimism, that is not a blessing I was gifted with. But waking up excited to wear her new outfit. She was a doll...so preppy...so polished...so cute...and she KNEW it. She had a sheepish smile plastered on her face.

Daddy made her favorite breakfast...waffles with Chocolate Agave Syrup. She gobbled it up. On any normal day...this is a child who rouses around 9 o'oclock...eats breakfast hours later...and stays in jammies as long as she can get away with. So for her to be up dressed (darlingly I might add) and have eaten before the clock struck 7:00 was no small feat.
But again she had brand new clothes to model to make up for the lack of sleep.
After complaining about Utah schools for the last 2 years...I finally was able to get them into a charter school. Oh my lucky stars...things are looking up.

So this was a brand new school...so to help alleviate any fears...I presented her (and another cute family in the ward whose kids were also going to this charter for the 1st time) ...a Schultuete. Which is a tradition in Germany..where on the first day of school the parents present their kids with a obscenely LARGE and overly decorated cone. The cone is filled with all kinds of treats and goodies. The kids take them to school...have their picture taken holding them in front of their school sign or classroom sign..and then wait ALL day before finally getting to open them at home.
Great idea in theory. I presented them to Reagan and the other kids the night before and all agreed to take them to school. Mind you we don't live in Germany...we have NO German descent...but none the less we carried these gigantic things in to snap their picture.
OH the looks we got...the questions we were asked...the embarrassed and horrified look Reagan had as I shoved it in her arms to embrace and hold.
I got my Kodak moment and took it back.

But she was excited to get off the bus that day and tear into her long awaited Schultuete.

Happy 1st Day of Skool my prep school child.

Next week its Madisons turn.