Zumba

Wow, I haven't posted anything for so long that I almost forgot how to log in.

I went to Zumba tonight and had such a rush, which I tend to get every time I go. But tonight was one of those nights when I just wanted to stay home. I had been at work all day, felt rushed through dinner, ran to the church for a nutrition/cooking class (which was very good), and then rushed off to Zumba. It has been cold all day and we even had snow. I was dreaming of curling up with a good book and having a cup of hot chocolate, but off to Zumba I went.

As the hour progressed, my energy picked up, and certain songs just make me smile. Some songs even give me chills and bring tears to my eyes. Is that weird or what? I just LOVE it! Music is so powerful.

At one point a woman who had been behind me was clearly out of breath and had stopped dancing and I said something to her about how fun this is and she said she used to dance all the time, and WANTS to, but feels like her body just can't do it anymore. She feels so out of shape and wants to cry. She wonders if she should quit. But she told me that she's been watching me since her first day and that she's able to copy me and feel more confident. WOW! She just expressed all the feelings I had when I started back in April. I felt like such a clutz and wanted to cry, but told myself to give it a month. I didn't think I'd EVER catch on. But there was one person who I kept my eyes glued on and she helped me learn and she encouraged me. She also told me that the day would come when someone ELSE would be watching ME! I didn't believe her, but she was right.

After the woman told me she watches me, it made me work harder and concentrate even more. I'm not that great, but I DO love the music, the energy in the room, the fact that my body CAN move, and the RUSH always comes.

I'm finding that being in the stage of life I'm at right now, makes me notice and appreciate so many little things that make me happy.

Lost.....and Found!

Most times when I am given a church responsibility that will be ongoing for a certain length of time, I feel fearful at first, doubtful, inadequate, and wonder how in the world I will be able to accomplish what's been asked of me. I immediately turn to prayer, take a deep breath, and DIG IN!

Over time I figure out what I'm doing, relationships develop, love for those I serve deepens, experiences are etched in my mind forever, my life is changed; and then... BAM...I'm released from that responsibility, and I am LOST!

For the past 3 years I have been serving in a capacity that oversees the welfare of about 150 women, which extends to their families as well. This entails Sunday and weekday meetings, lessons, classes, funerals, caring for the sick and the grieving, serving in many capacities. I have been on a constant run.

But this isn't about me. It's about what I've seen in others. I have seen, from a different vantage point, the service and love that is freely and willingly given by others. I am amazed, impressed with, and in awe of the many women I have served WITH. Whenever there was a need, whatever was asked, was given without hesitation. Most times the asking never had to happen. Things were being done just because a need was known, and out of love and kindness, the need was met.

I have been made aware of the fact that EVERYONE has challenges; some being extremely difficult, but we all have them. I have prayed for, cried for, and loved these strong women who go through the battle of life with determination and faith. I love these women.

I am grateful for the many opportunities over the years, with various responsibilities, that have made me stretch and grow in ways I never thought possible. I am grateful to a Father in Heaven, who has answered my prayers every single time in order to accomplish what I needed to. He has carried me through.

Upon my release from this latest assignment, I expected to feel relief. I expected it to be a cause for celebration, for relaxation, for a chance to catch my breath. It was not. I felt lost. I felt sad. I keep looking at my phone, thinking there's a problem with it because it has ceased to ring. I feel needed no more.

I tried shifting my focus to all the things I've been wanting to do, that I could now do with my free time. Friends and family have been telling me I need a break. I thought I would too, but when that day came last week, I quickly realized I don't WANT a break. When I serve others, and serve God, that's when I am the happiest. Stretching and growing and learning new things makes me a better person.

I continued to feel lost. What was I to do now? Where do I fit in? Will I go back to being my shy self who sits in a back corner all alone, feeling useless?

THEN, I got a call. As of tomorrow I get a new assignment. I get to teach the 3 year old children on Sundays. I have not stopped smiling. Those children are the sweetest, most pure and precious little people that I now get to associate with. How lucky am I? I have found a new focus.

Lost? Never!

Graduate

My next-to-the-youngest son is graduating from high school next week. I believe this is cause to celebrate, but he scoffs and wonders what the big deal is. He doesn't think he has accomplished much in his life. He hasn't received any awards, he didn't become the athlete he always hoped to be, he hasn't been recognized for anything extraodinary, he's not considered a popular kid, he just feels average.

Let me tell you about this "average" kid. He is a natural-born leader. He does not demand this title, yet others seem to gravitate towards him, and follow him. He is someone who does what he wants without concern for what others may think. As a young boy, he would wear striped pants with a plaid shirt, or play T-ball with bright orange shorts and his cowboy boots. He never was one to buy brand name clothing, but would rather see how far his money would stretch. It has never bothered him to dress or act differently than others. He's happy being himself. He is a person of integrity.

This kid has always made me and anyone around him, happy. He has a cheerful disposition ALL the time. He has a sense of humor and can always make people laugh.

He has not achieved scholoastic, athletic, or other honorary awards, but he is a winner. He knows when to step back and glory in the success of others. He is fiercely loyal and supportive of his friends and peers. He attends events in which he'd rather be a participant, but is a spectator, yet he cheers the loudest, exuding genuine happiness in the success of others.

He is one of the bravest people I know. He tried out for, and earned a spot in competing in "Mr. Springville" at the high school. It was a tough competition, broken down into multiple mini competitions. For the talent portion, there were some boys who sang or danced, always with either a group of other friends participating with them, or with music blaring as their background (or cover-up??); skits, where again, friends joined them in the presentation. My son is the ONLY one who opened himself up to a raw display of comedy. There were no flashing lights, no background music, no group of friends performing with him, just him, all alone on that stage, with the student body and parents staring at him, critiquing him. He would either fall flat on his face and get no laughs, or he'd "nail" it. Guess what? He NAILED it! He was scared to death, but he had everyone laughing and applauding enthusiastically. That experience gave him one of the biggest boosts of his life, but he had to take the gamble and jump into the cold water, head first. He didn't drown, but rose above the surface a better person, having more confidence in himself than ever before. I'm so proud of him.

My son is self-motivated, responsible, and honest. I have never once had to drag him out of bed to get to school or work. I've never had to nag him about his homework, or remind him about his work schedule. He always says to me "Mom...I've got it covered", and he does. He never calls into work "sick", but fulfills his responsibility without complaint. His boss knows he can depend on him and has never been disappointed in him. He's not a "flaky" teenager. He is trustworthy and does what he says he will do. He doesn't look for a "cheat" or a shortcut.

My son went to the extra effort of achieving his Eagle Scout award. He doesn't give himself enough credit for this, but it's a big deal I think.

So while others are receiving their awards and medals of honor, scholarships and recognition, (which are all wonderful), I'll take my "average" son any day. He's an exceptional person, a boy growing into a mature young man, who will contribute to society in HIS way. I am so proud of him and love him with all my heart, and I feel this world is a better place because of him.

Mother's Day...don't need the "stuff"

The calendar says this one day a year is supposed to be something special for mothers. I don't like a date on the calendar to dictate what should happen on that day. It sets everyone up for disappointment when expectations aren't met. I tell myself I have no expectations, but then the day arrives and I find that I secretly DO.

I'm not talking about gifts. I honestly don't want "the stuff". I don't need tangible gifts. I don't want my husband or children sweating over what to get me; worrying about not having the funds to purchase something; stressing over what to do for Mom. When the kids were little, teachers at church and/or school would have them draw a picture, or fill out a slip of paper redeemable for a hug, or a voucher good for making their bed (or mine); things of that nature. Now that they're older, they think those gifts were dumb. Actually, those are the gifts I loved the very most. I don't need "the stuff!!!"

This is a day when mothers sometimes feel guilty and depressed because we don't fit the mold of the perfect mother. We want to hide out and wait for Monday so we can get back to reality.

If I could have my perfect day, it would be to stay home and put my feet up, read a good book, have my children at my beck and call, adoring me; have dinner prepared for me; have the kitchen cleaned up afterwards til it shined; receive heartfelt letters of love and appreciation from each child, along with a hug; take a nap; and just do nothing.

Every once in a while I throw myself a little pity-party, feeling overworked and under-paid, wondering if what I do is even noticed, let alone appreciated. But that party is short-lived and now I ask myself; do I really want what I described as my perfect day? No...I really don't! I want to go to church, I want to be busy and interact with my family and others. I want to be out there living my life. I love my children and would do anything for them. I love the mundane things I do around the house that may go unnoticed by my family, but it brings me joy to serve my family in this way. If I were to resign myself to a recliner, I would die inside. I just can't do it, although it does sound nice for a day. :)

So...I'm good! I'm happy. I have a good life. I LOVE being a mother. It's my greatest blessing. So on this Mother's Day, instead of celebrating ME, I'm celebrating my children. I really don't need "the stuff" (although I certainly wouldn't turn down a meal prepared by hands other than mine).

This is also a day to celebrate my own mother of course. She really is the best Mom I could ever ask for. She gives me unconditional love and she's ALWAYS there for me; ALWAYS!!! In just the simplest ways, she makes me feel like a million bucks. When I call her on the phone, her voice escalates in excitement that it's me. Any time we spend together is the highlight of her day. She makes me feel so special. I love her so much. I hope I can convey to my own children, what my mother taught me, and that's how to love.

Happy Mother's Day to all of us.

ER experience

We had a scare last week. My husband woke up in the middle of the night with an exploding pain in his chest. During the next several hours he had constant pain in his neck, and occasional pains in his chest. He did not wake me up because I had not been sleeping well for weeks, but that particular night I was finally sleeping and he didn't want to interrupt my much needed sleep (foolish man). He headed to work (still without waking me) but then found himself turning into the parking lot of our Dr.'s office (smart man). Of course they sent him directly to the ER. Again, he still hadn't called me (foolish).

During his drive there (he drove himself...ALONE...foolish again) he started getting scared, wondering if he'd even make it. He checked himself into the ER at Payson hospital where he received excellent care for the duration of his stay there that day/night.

He called me (finally) and I was completely calm on the phone. I even took time to shower and grab some things before heading out. I worried about my commitments at work, having heavy responsibilities during tax season, and commitments with my church job. But my place was with my husband, so I just had to "bail out" of everything else.

After joining my husband at the hospital, I sat with him all through the day, watching him go through test after test, and then waiting for the results. I remained calm. I even read a little while he dozed. It was almost a relaxing experience to have permission to just sit. Then results from one test came back abnormal, which caused the cardiologist to schedule a cath test, inserting a catheter through the groin to the heart. My husband was wisked away without much notice. He had received a phone call and was ending the call, handing me the phone, and then he was gone. That's when my calmness disappeared. I felt my hands start shaking, and tears forming, worry building, restless legs that had to move, dread, fear, you name it. I have been through some difficult experiences before, which have taught me that things don't always turn out "OK". I hadn't even had a chance to say goodbye, or say "I Love You".

Luckily my waiting time was much shorter than I expected. My husband's heart and arteries are perfectly fine, totally clear. What a relief. I was SO happy to see my husband again. (Although I admit to briefly thinking of the unfairness of it all that he eats hot dogs and hamburgers and pizza all the time, and does NOT exercise, and his heart and arteries are in perfect condition.) While the problem is not his heart, there IS a problem somewhere, and we'll have to follow up on that with our regular Dr.

While he was sleeping off his anesthesia, I pondered what had happened and the range of emotions I had felt. I thought of all the things in life that keep me busy, occupying my time and my thoughts. And yet I realized what is most precious and important to me; my husband and family. This is not a new revelation. I have had many experiences that have pointed me back to my family. What bothers me, is why I can't seem to let other things go. I keep telling myself that I've learned my lesson and that I need a better balance in my life; that I need to keep my priorities straight (family first), and I'll do it for a day, maybe two, and then I let the other things take over again. Then I feel guilty, like I'm a bad wife or mother because I can't seem to put them first as often as I should. Why do I feel such a drive to do well at work and at my church responsibilities, and whatever else I'm asked to do? Am I being a good example to my family or will it be something they, and I, regret? I don't know.

I DO know this. I...LOVE...MY...HUSBAND! That's a truth that can never be questioned.

Noises downstairs

Basements are notorious for scary things: darkness, monsters, spiders, piled up dirty laundry, the boogie-man, water rushing through the pipes, whining furnace, kids causing mischief, etc. None of that applies to my house (right now anyway). My son, daughter-in-law, and grandson live in our basement. They have brought new life to this house. My talented daughter-in-law has decorated their space down there so cute. But what I love most, are the noises I hear from down below. I can hear my grandson running from one end of the house to the other, giggling. He's not playing alone though, because his giggles are followed by the sounds of his parents chasing him, tickling him, playing with him. I hear his mommy playing the piano while he plays at her feet. I hear singing. I wake up in the mornings to hear the cheerful chatter of my grandson in his crib. (His room is below mine.) I hear the soft, gentle voice of his mommy when he cries. I NEVER hear a harsh word or raised voices. I hear nothing but gentleness and love. I think this little boy is a lucky guy because of his wonderful parents. There is no darkness in our basement. It is a roomful of sunshine.

Tuesday night highlights

Every Tuesday night, I go out visiting women in my ward. Most times one of my counselors goes with me. We visit the young, the older, the sick, new move-ins, those in need of help, or whoever we feel may need a visit. It never fails, that no matter how hectic and chaotic my day may have been, tempting me to cancel visits for the night, I am ALWAYS uplifted by those visits. I don't know that we're doing a thing for anyone else, but it lifts my spirits every...single...time. Tuesday nights is my favorite time of the week.

Tonight was devoted to visiting some of the older women. Sometimes those women feel forgotten; all used up; no good to anyone; but I feel differently. As we ring their doorbell, we wait for what seems like a long time before they open the door. I can see in my mind's eye, how they slowly manuever themselves, sometimes using canes or other aids, to safely make it to the door without falling. Sometimes they're a little breathless when they answer. Then they open that door and look up into our eyes, and break into the biggest smile you ever did see. We could've interrupted their dinner, or whatever else they may have been doing, but they set it all aside to visit with us. They are overjoyed to have us there. As we talk, they share life stories and experiences, and as they do so, their love for others always comes through. They shine with the light of Christ.

They will NEVER be forgotten. They have set the examples for which we try to follow. Their shoes are the shoes we try to fill.

Nearly three years ago, I started doing this each week because I felt it was my duty, part of my calling. Not anymore. Tuesday night is the highlight of my week.

Sacrifice

I think I'm over the hump of dealing with my emotions over sending my son on a mission. Now the reality of funding that mission has set in. He worked hard and saved enough money to get everything he needed before going, with some leftover to help us out a bit, yet we still have a monthly amount to scrounge up. How is this going to work? On paper, it doesn't.

We discontinued Comcast, so have no more TV or land-line phone service. We are selling my husband's truck (no bites just yet), which KILLS him (he loves his truck) and little fishing boat (he loves that too). We cut back on food and any other extras we could find. Things are still tight, and quite honestly, we weren't sure how we were going to make those mission payments.

When we read accounts in the scriptures, or modern-day stories of people who are attached to their material possessions, we think (or at least I do) of how selfish they are, and materialistic, and I become judgemental and wonder why they can't see what they're doing and just let go of those "things" and look to the greater good. Now that we have to get rid of some material possessions, I find myself in a position of true mourning.

My husband's truck has been so good to us. There's nothing wrong with it, and it has served us well. It's not only a comfy ride, but we have used that truck countless times to help our children move, or haul things from one place to another, help ward members and neighbors in various ways, tow broken down cars, pull people out of snow and mud when stuck, haul stuff to the dump, tow the boat to favorite fishing spots, loan it out to others, help with service projects, "flags", etc., etc. I think a LOT of people are going to miss our truck. :)

And then there's the fishing boat. A purchase from my husband's brother; lovingly cared for by brother and my husband. Fishing has been my husband's one stress reliever. He has made memories with our children for the past 10 years, taking them one at time for some Daddy/daughter or Daddy/son time, just fishing and talking, eating jerky and whatever else they scrounged up early in the morning before heading out. Good talks happened on the lake while waiting for the fish to bite. Fish were caught, cleaned, and later cooked and eaten. The boat came with us on camping trips, along with tubes to pull the kids on.

Once these items are sold, all we'll have are those memories. It makes me sad to let the item itself go, but how grateful I am for the good times we've had.

It seems silly to mourn for the loss of such things, yet I do. But we learn that life requires us to make sacrifices, and there are better things to sacrifice for, which makes it worth it.

As I sit down to pay our bills today, rather than try to figure out how it's all gonna work, I remind myself to have faith. I know I need to pay our tithing and mission payment first, then I figure I'll just have to juggle the other bills as needed. But we have been blessed in many ways already, by others helping out. Still, I sit there in my room, surrounded by bills, the checkbook, the calculator, working out the numbers one way, then another, when one of our children walks into the room, expressing a desire to help missionary brother. We are handed what might be considered "the widow's mite", and the warmest, most peaceful feeling floods through my soul.

Everything is going to be alright. I love my family. We are so blessed.

Is it worth it?

I said goodbye to my son today for two years. Through my tears, I silently ask myself if this is worth it.

His room is quickly emptied and then filled with another son's stuff. His guitar is laid to rest in the storage room. I already miss the music he made with that instrument. Items of clothing are donated to DI, others are left behind for his return. Bedding is washed, but I catch a whiff of his scent on his pillowcase and dissolve into tears once again.

I can't help but think of what and who he will miss; his siblings, especially one brother who will be on his own mission when he comes home; his nephews and niece; the birth of another nephew or niece, and who knows what else.

For me, I will miss his mere presence, his smile, his laugh, his teasing manner, his generosity, his humility, his strength, his integrity, his testimony, his patience, his calmness, his love.

I mourn for the life as we have known it. Things will never be the same. Change has taken place once again.

If I were to dwell on these reasons alone, then NO, this would not be worth it at all. But wait...I think of all the growth that will come to him with this experience. I think of the man he will become. I think of the diciple of Jesus Christ he is, and of the many other lives he will touch. I think of how this sacrifice on his part, will return to him blessings unmeasured, which therefore, makes it no sacrifice at all. I think of the language he will learn, the communication and public speaking skills he will develop, the ability to do everything on his own now, the need he will have to rely on God everyday and how his relationship with Father in Heaven and Jesus Christ will be cemented. How selfish am I to want to keep him home all to myself? I would not want to deny him of this wonderful experience.

So once again, I hug my son tightly, express my deepest love for him, and then let him go. I bravely wave goodbye as five other missionaries surround him at the MTC and he walks away, yet I know he's in good hands.

Yes I come home and cry some more, and will probably continue to do so for a while, but I know the benefits far outweigh any sacrifice I selfishly think I am making.

I know he is doing what he needs to do, I know the blessings that come, and even as my heart aches, I loosen those apron strings for one more son. It's time for him to fly, and I know this son of mine is ready to soar. Yes, this is worth it!

My big boy needs his mommy

I took my soon-to-be-missionary son to an ear specialist today. He has been having problems hearing, always saying "huh" to everything we said. It was annoying us at first, as we thought he just had selective hearing, but we finally had it checked out a month ago. The Dr. cleared out his ears as best he could, gave us drops to continue for 3 weeks, but the problem remained, so we were referred to a specialist.

I remained in the waiting room while he went back to see the Dr. I wanted to offer to go with him, but didn't want to embarrass him. He's a 19 1/2 yr. old boy (man?) who towers over me. So I waited, and waited and waited. I started to worry, and wondered at one point if he needed me. I began to get agitated. He came out shortly after that and told me the story.

The Dr. had to do some very invasive work on his ears, touching the eardrum many times (very sensitive), using tools that caused so much pain, my son wished he had been put "out" for the procedure. This is a kid who has been known his whole life for having a high tolerance for pain. However, for this particular procedure, he said at one point his eyes were watering (he doesn't want to admit he was crying) and he thought to himself "I want my Mom". It broke my heart to hear him say that. I should've gone in there with him in the first place. But at least he knew I was right outside, not far away. I'm so glad the problem was rectified before he was in the MTC and sent to a Dr. without me (which happens often this Dr. said).

We had a wonderful time driving home because we could actually have a "whole" conversation, where he could hear every word. It opened up a whole new world to him. I stopped and got him a burger for a late lunch and as I handed him the bag, he said "wow...these bags are so noisy!"

I'm so glad my son is feeling better now, and it melts my heart to know he still needs his mommy.

Mr. Springville

My son competed in the SHS Mr. Springville competition, which concluded tonight. None of my other sons participated in this particular activity so I had no idea what was involved. It was quite the major undertaking.

First he had to apply and be accepted into the competition. The application process was more than just signing a piece of paper saying you wanted to enter the contest.

Then all this week there were daily competitions: Leg Day, Costume Day, Cake Day, Poster Day, and Improv day. There were several weeks of early morning rehearsals for their opening dance number, which was SO good. They had to have a talent, which was shared tonight in front of a packed auditorium, there was a swimsuit competition (very modest and humorous actually), a formal-wear competition, and so forth.

Tonight was especially nerve-wracking for my son as he tried to psche himself out for his comedy routine (his talent). I was just as nervous as he was. I want my son to feel succeess. He just didn't want to bomb, and embarrass himself. Well once he got on stage, he did AWESOME! He had the crowd in the palm of his hand. They loved him. I was laughing my head off, but it's even more gratifying to hear everyone around me laughing too.

My son didn't take home the crown, but I couldn't have been more proud of him. He did a very brave thing. All the other kids did great with their talents as well, but they either had others participate with them, or they had music as their companion. My son took a risk and had to put himself "out there", and even the MC guy, who does comedy for a living, told me afterwards that my son "killed it!" I also saw my son's dedication to all that was required of him, which is good preparation for life itself. I love this kid.

If you care to check out the competition, you can google it and look for Mr. Springville "live" (or something like that.)

A Rosy Life

We had a disappointment today. Our married son who currently lives with us (along with his wife and little boy) has worked so hard to get to a place where he can provide for his family. He has a good job, but it is only parttime. He has tried to prove himself as an employee, bent over backwards to develop a good reputation, gone the extra mile, accepted extra shifts and assignments at the drop of a hat, and FINALLY a fulltime position opened up. He was well qualified and applied for it. He interviewed not once, not twice, but THREE times (which is a great sign). He had to take tests, he had to go on a "drive-along", he had to complete paperwork with the HR department. He interviewed well. The three "big-wigs" who did the interviewing, really liked him and narrowed it down to my son and one other guy. They took a week to make their decision. The other guy got the job.

The first emotion we feel is a sickness in the pit of your stomach that precedes despair. Then anger sets in. We know "the other guy" has only been with the company a very short time, and yet his 20 years in retail, spoke louder than the experience my son has to offer. Well how long does my son have to wait to get that experience so badly needed? Sometime, SOMEONE'S got to give him a shot and let all his other great qualities speak louder than his younger years that rob him of being able to claim years of experience.

All I want is a rosy life for my children. Of course I know there must be opposition in all things. Of course we all deal with disappointment throughout our whole life. Of course "life isn't fair". Of course in years to come we may look back and see why things happened the way they did. But for right now, I just want to fix things for my son. I want to see him rewarded for his efforts. I want OTHERS to see what I see in him. He and his family deserve a bed of roses. Unfortunately, those roses have thorns. If I could pull them out for my children, I would. But instead, I just hurt and ache for them.

God bless this wonderful son of mine.

Grandbaby #3

Baby Jack was born on MLK day, this past Monday. 6 lbs. 4 oz., 19" long. He has some blond fuzz, he has a perfectly tiny round head, perfect little nose and mouth, and is just the cutest thing you've ever seen; well...along with his 2 yr. old sister and 20 month old cousin of course. :)

So was the 3rd time around just as exciting as the first? You bet it was. And this time, instead of sitting in the hospital waiting room, I got to take care of our granddaughter. She talked to me, sang to me, played with me, directed me to her house when I got lost momentarily in the dark, prayed with me at bedtime, read me stories. SHE entertained ME!

When I visited baby Jack in the hospital, fully intending on getting plenty of time holding him, instead I watched in awe, as his sweet big sister displayed her motherly instincts, by insisting on holding him. I can share my time with her...of course. It was delightful to watch her hold him, cuddle him, softly touch him, speak softly to him, kiss his little head, and THEN, when the nurse came in to take him away for another blood test, I watched this sweet little granddaughter display her protective mother bear side of her, that all of us women have toward our children, as she broke out into a full-out sob, crying out to the nurse, "NO...BRING MY BABY BACK!" She would not be consoled for the longest time, UNTIL...her mommy pulled out a Snickers bar. Oh yah, we're SO related!

I had two precious days with my granddaughter, and then to top it off, to come home to my little grandson, who currently lives with us, and he comes upstairs and sees me, breaking out into the biggest grin ever, then says "HI" and runs towards me, well that's just cream on top with a cherry and extra chocolate.

Whether it's grandchild #1 or #21, does not; WILL not matter. It's just sugar and spice and everything nice!!!

Heart leaps for joy...in a reserved way

My sister texted me tonight and told me she went to sacrament meeting today with her husband. My heart jumped to my throat. Dare I hope for her reactivation? My sister can not be pushed to do anything she doesn't want to do, so I have learned to "be there" for her when she has questions, but I have to keep my feelings a bit in reserve so I don't push her away with my exuberant reactions.

I know there is a lot of good in this world, a lot of good in other faiths, a lot of happiness that can be found. I also know that there's even MORE joy and happiness to be found in the faith I have embraced my whole life. I love my sister so much, that I just want MORE for her too.

So...my heart is happy with her choice today, but still just a bit reserved. I'm holding back so I'm not disappointed if things don't progress for her. But I am also filled with hope.