My sad, sad experience with the little birds I grew so attached to make me look forward all the more to this:

Isaiah 11:6-9

6 The ^awolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them.

7 And the cow and the bear shall feed; their young ones shall lie down together: and the lion shall eat straw like the ox.

8 And the sucking child shall play on the hole of ^athe asp, and the weaned child shall put his hand on the ^bcockatrice’ den.

9 They shall not ^ahurt nor ^bdestroy in all my holy ^cmountain: for the ^dearth shall be full of the ^eknowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the sea.

 

I wish it were like that now!  Faith, faith…

 In honor of our twittering friends that are finally returning to our yard I made these little birdies for my kids for Easter. They are felted wool stuffed with wool batting with Barry-engineered copper wire feet.  I also got this book.  It has been hiding in my closet and I can’t keep my hands off of it when the kids are in bed.  It is way, way cool.

Snow has been fluttering down here all day, but still thoughts of rebirth and renewal are at the forefront this weekend.  My mind has been so full of mental clutter.  It seems like the “We’re moving” thoughts are bulky and distracting– taking up so much space, sucking up my time in thoughts of getting the oven fixed, researching carpet prices, finding a match to the white paint on our baseboards and doors.  And while these things are necessary and even exciting in their own way I’m excited for tomorrow, the Sabbath, the most important Sabbath.  I am thankful for the time to focus and reflect on what life is really all about.

It seems the things I read, the lessons I learn from my children, the conversations I have with friends, the sad, painful experiences of loved ones in my family highlight so much what this season of rebirth is all about– love.  Pure, selfless love.  Knowing, believing, seeing that we are all of infinite worth, of infinite potential, full of infinite beauty.  That is what Spring teaches us–and that no matter how bleak and gray and cold the winter is, no matter how dark and deep we are buried, there is rebirth.  The little green shoots will poke their heads up again.  Blossoms will bud, meaning fruit will grow.

There is an infinite source of good, of peace, of renewal, of love.  The sun will always rise, there will be warmth and growth, because the Son did rise.

I hope you have a wonderful Easter!

I didn’t make my Sunday post yesterday so I’m going to do it today. President Hinckley, the prophet of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, died last night.

I will never forget the day he was sustained as prophet. It was a Saturday morning and I was getting ready for my Homecoming date with Ramon Relyea. The General Conference broadcast was on the TV in my parents room and I was drying my hair and various other girly things in front of the mirror in their bathroom. I could see the TV’s reflection in the mirror above my mom’s dresser. After the Mormon Tabernacle Choir sang the opening song I felt the power of the conference– that I was witnessing something monumental and eternally significant. The opening prayer was said and then we sustained President Hinckley as the new president and prophet, seer, and revelator. It seems such an ordinary thing– just watching TV and getting ready for the day, but it really was one of the defining moments of my life. As I stood with millions of others around the world to sustain a new prophet I KNEW that it was true. It was real. I felt the overwhelming power of the Holy Ghost with every fiber of my being.

Later, during my second year in college, I had the opportunity to hear President Hinckley speak in person. I need to go through my old journals and see if I can find my notes and impressions from his talk. What I do remember was that I was serving on the Utah State University Institute of Religion council and got a special floor seat. I sat on the very front row, right in the middle. I was face to face with him! I felt the same witness– that he was truly a prophet of God. It reverberated through my entire being.

I am so thankful for his council, wisdom, and insight. I am so thankful for his visionary leadership in helping people throughout the entire world. I am most personally grateful for the example of his beautiful marriage, the partnership he had with his wife, and his obvious love and reverence for her. I want to follow his example. More than anything else in the universe I want a marriage like that– more than anything.

He emphasized the basics of education, personal prayer, meditation and scripture study, of praying daily as couples and families, of holding weekly family home evenings. All such small and simple things that carry profound power. I hear over and over how hard it is to go to school, to pursue life long learning, to commit to daily scripture study and prayer, to gather wiggling tired children everyday for payer and scripture reading. It may be hard, I guess, but my response is this: IT IS SO MUCH HARDER NOT TO. As children of God we need time with him daily. We need to experience the quiet of our own minds– to know what is at our core, to feel who we really are. We need the routine and bond of daily focus on things greater than ourselves with our children and spouses. I believe the one thing that has had the most powerful impact on my family for the good is a very simple thing. Each night before we go to bed Barry and I kneel beside our bed and pray together. We take turns being voice– I’m even days and he’s odd. We kneel in gratitude for the love and friendship we share, for the joy we find in our children, for the comforts we enjoy. We ask for help and insight– that we can grow in love and understanding for each other, that we can guide each of the unique personalities of our children, that we can know how to serve and love others. There is such comfort being united in gratitude, every single day. Sure, I guess it might be a little tricky to establish routines, to go to bed at the same time or overcome whatever obstacle, but my life is easier by doing these little things. We can never get too far off track. I love doing these hard things. IT WOULD BE SO MUCH HARDER NOT TO.

Thank you President Hinckley for your council and example. I love you.

 

John Hafen

The Mountain Stream

1903, oil on canvas, 26 x 23 inches

Springville Museum of Art

 

My mom sent me this quote by LDS artist John Hafen this week:

 

“The influence of Art is so powerful in shaping our lives for a higher appreciation of the creations of our God that we cannot afford to neglect an acquaintance with it. We should be as eager for its companionship as we are eager for chairs to sit upon or for food to sustain our lives, for it has as important a mission in shaping our character and in conducing to our happiness as anything that we term necessities.”

 

When I read this I thought of a journal entry I wrote my last year in high school– the time I was trying to figure out exactly what it was I would do when I grew up. I wrote:

 

“”Art is the symptom of a soul.” ( That’s a quote from my English teacher Mr. Dempsey.) The very fabric of our being which separates the men from beasts is our ability to create, to think on abstract and elevated levels, and our awareness of those abilities. Whether the means be visual, literary, musical or physical– the arts are humanity’s vehicle to express self awareness, imagination, creativity, and develop abstract thinking skills. Art sharpens our senses, and through expressing self awareness one becomes keenly aware of his surroundings. Reading, writing, drawing, acting, dancing; these give us emotional connections to the people, places and things around us. These connections instill value and appreciation for all creation. “

 

I really believe this. In making, in creating we weave threads into our relationship with the ultimate Creator. We start to feel our own potential and can see more clearly the infinite possibilities in other people. Art is an extension of our spirituality in a very real and concrete way. My favorite Joseph Smith quote today is “If men do not comprehend the character of God, they do not comprehend themselves.” Human creativity is at the very core of our divine nature, our inheritance from God– in using it we can come closer to comprehending both.

 

I’ve been clicking through the 7th International Art Competition at the Museum of Church History and Art. Here’s one of my favorite paintings by Joshua Baird entitled By Design:

 

 

Happy Sabbath! Do something creative this week– even if it is making your kitchen sink clean. If that’s the case, really make it sparkle!

 

 

Just three this week.

But, that was my goal. Two weeks down, 50 more to go.

I’ve spent the past 2 weeks preparing of a funeral for a woman at church. Echo Pryor Arnesen left behind a husband, 6 children, and 19 grandchildren. She was one of those people you just can’t forget once you meet her. She was exhuberant and always had something to say. It was actually pretty hard to keep her from saying anything There were a few times during Sunday meetings that I would cringe as she recounted stories of dreams she had and how the Lord directed her to get a child out of bed because its head was wrapped in covers…I can’t think of any more right off the top of my head, but most Sundays there was something. The stories were true though. She had a simple faith and not only believed in miracles, but expected them.

In the room where the family set up the viewing were tables of pictures and scrap books. She was a wonderful record keeper. She kept a journal for each of her 6 children from the time they were born and continued to add to them after they left home. What a treasure. She was unforgettable by virture of her personality, but her love and commitment to her family ensures that she will never be forgotten.

I don’t love my children any less than Echo loved hers, but will they remember that when I’m gone? I’m just so deeply impressed by her committment and dilligence to write so personally for each of them.

Maybe I should take a page from her book…

Eight years ago today Barry took me up Logan Canyon to go cross country skiing. It was going to be an epic trip, from one canyon to another, through the pure white snow and blanketed forest, the two of us doing something we loved to do– together. It was REALLY snowing, my skis weren’t waxed quite right for the conditions, I was sliding backwards down small hills, I was tired, I was cold, I wanted to go home, we turned back… I foiled his plan, but he asked me to marry him anyway. I knew I loved him then. In fact, I knew I loved him the moment we met. We were soul mates before the world was.

But, I am so thankful love grows with time. We have three children. We’ve lived in three different states. A lot of the time we’ve only had each other. And we like it that way. He is a part of me. I’m a part of him.

This week will be a milestone in my life. As I sat and read and meditated while everyone else was at church on Sunday I realized that I have given birth– I had to endure the physical pain, I had to will myself to relax through contractions, I had to cry and bleed and suffer and endure. I went through the whole process, and though I did not come out of it with a baby, I did give birth to something.

I gave birth to a new beginning, a chance to start over…

I gave birth to a realization that God loves me with no strings attached–
and that a relationship with Him does not mean I will just have more things to do.

I think too much.

I need to let myself feel;

to feel my body, to feel my emotions, to delve into my heart and really experience what is there,
without the noise and crowding of quilt plans or book plans or blog entry plans or Relief Society lesson plans or conversation plans (I design, cut, sew, bind, view, display, discuss the same project from start to finish over and over in my mind. So much so, that most of them never get made, and I miss what is happening in the moment.).

But I think more than anything I gave birth to a realization of my absolute dependence on Barry– to a deeper love. I feel swallowed by it. We are so inseparably connected. I wish I could explain it or have the right words to say to him, but I just can’t.

Barry, I love you. I need you. I thank you.

Love, jess

I don’t write much here about what I do in service to my church– partly because I don’t want to be all, “Look how nice I am,” because a lot of what I do should be kept confidential, and also because I’m not in this position because I campaigned or earned it, but because I was asked to and feel like that’s what Heavenly Father needs me to do. But, the load is getting heavy and today has been a crappy day.

We have a welfare system which is amazing a very inspired, and so as Relief Society President it is part of my job to assess the needs of people in our ward and help order the food and stuff they need. A truck comes from the Bishop’s Storehouse in Columbus every other Tuesday. Anyway, I sent one of my counselors to the truck devlivery today because I wasn’t feeling up to lifting and loading, and 8 families’ orders weren’t on the truck! I started writing this in frustration and bewilderment, not knowing what to do, but now we’ve figured out that there wasn’t enough postage on the order forms, that they didn’t get there in time, but that copies of them have been found, people can head up to Columbus to get the missing food and it will all be okay.

As I was sitting here near tears because 8 families were going to have to be without food and it was probably somehow my fault, my e-mail inbox dinged and I had a message from Denyse to make me smile.

I wasn’t sure it was okay to post pictures of her new fabirc line, but she said it was just fine to start the buzz. The fabrics she designed are so fun– with her great color sense and vintage charm. Here’s the picture I took at her studio:

But even better is the picture she just sent me of “Flea Market Fantasy”

I sure can’t wait to get my hands on those browns and blues, how ’bout you guys?! Okay, the orangey yellows and greens are great too… Keep your eyes peeled in the quilt stores this spring/ summer

Barry is being promoted to Captain today. It’s a beautiful day outside and I have this overflowing feeling of joy and graditude and, well, I can’t put my finger on it…

Yesterday something got me thinking about my mission in life, what I want, what Barry wants, what I’m made for. Clearly I’m made to be a mom, my service is needed in God’s church… but what about this unquenchable drive I have to make things? I remember as a little girl I would scheme and dream about the tree house I would someday live in, the art I would make, the lessons I would teach, and how I would somehow be a big influence for good. When I was in high school I was convinced that this urgency to be known by a large audience and have some positive, creative, good influence must mean I needed to be famous. I would tell my mom maybe I’d be in musicals. Maybe I’d draw for Disney movies. I’m still going through the maybes. But this nagging feeling of urgency to BE, to create, to DO the things I idle away daydreaming about ebbs and flows throughout my life, and it never goes away. It seems to be high tide today.

This may seem completely unrelated, but yesterday I started looking into Signing Time. It’s a video program to teach toddlers and preschoolers sign language. It’s beautifully put together. We checked out some of the videos from the library yesterday. The music is great. Logan is already making the sign for milk when he wants to nurse. But, the thing that is most striking to me is that it is put together by Mormon moms who found their purpose, took some risks, used their God-given talents and circumstances to create something useful and influential in the world.

All day I’ve been listening to Peter Breinholt. His music has sentimental value because Barry and I fell in love at one of his concerts. But, his music just feels good. And he is good. If you have time, read this. Another Mormon who found a place with his uniqueness, and is a humble influence for good.

I need to be a DO-er. I’m built to day-dream. I read this quote from President Monson the other day: “The work of reactivation is no task for the idler or daydreamer. Children grow, parents age, and time waits for no man. Do not postpone a prompting; rather, act on it, and the Lord will open the way.” It peirced straight to my heart. And not at all within the context of serving in the church and working to reactivate people who have fallen away. It talked of daydreamers– and time doesn’t wait for them. Well, if anyone is a daydreamer, I am. And so, I need to make my dreams; I need to do them and not simply dream them. Time will run out.

So, I need to put a lot of inhibitions aside. I don’t have to make money. I don’t have to be completely practical. I don’t need to worry about what people will say about the things I make (particularly our parents). I don’t have to paint pictures of the Saviour to make art with a spiritual impact (an “aha” from Peter Breinholt). I think this list is much longer…

I think a lot. I combine things and find connections. I visualize and go through elaborate constructions–but I do it all in my head. So, what good is that? It all disappears.

I think I do have a mission and a purpose that Heavenly Father wants me to fill. That’s why I feel this urgency. I’m still searching through the maybes…

but time waits for no man.

Did you know that if your mom takes the jam out of the fridge and sets it on the counter while waiting for a bagel to pop out of the toaster, but you wanted to get the jam out yourself, the world may come to an end and you must scream “Mom you don’t do very nice fings” and “You make me feel really, really mad.” and “DON’T SAY THE WORD!!” over and over again?

Did you know that the prospect of making your bed all by yourself while the rest of the family goes downstairs can cause your stomach to ache, your legs to shrivel up in pain, your fingers to tingle too much to move, and your back to itch, all while you melt into a heap and wail like the boogey-man is after you?

Did you know that if you’re ten months old your high chair is a torture chamber that causes ear splitting screaming?

Well, I discovered all of these things at once this morning and had three kids screaming hysterically for a good solid 45 minutes while I begged and pleaded for them to just let me eat half a bowl of Cheerios so that I could see straight and maybe even think a little bit.

Barry has decided he wants to go into work earlier so that he can come home earlier, so i get mornings to myself again. And my mom was also here visiting for the past week and a half and has sadly returned to her regular life. And we stayed up late last night and watched the BYU-idaho dance teams perform… anyway, it was a crazy morning I momentarily thought I might not survive.

And, there’s more i have to process. A family in our ward lost most of their worldly possesions in a house fire last night. So, I spent the day on the phone tracking them down, finding what they need, answering phone call after phone call of questions and offers for help…

It feels good to be busy serving and knowing that my efforts are really needed…

Anyway, so much to do… so little time. Imagine not having underwear or shoes, or even a toothbrush.

The yucky pukey feeling was all over with yesterday, but the coughing!! I can’t stop coughing.

I also can’t turn my brain off. I am restless to make art and found some new inspiring blogs (here and here). I think over this Christmas break I will be doing some drawing (and spinning of course) and overhaul my site.

I’ve also been working on my talk for our Home, Family and Personal Enrichment meeting tonight. As a Presidency it is our Christmas gift to the sisters–a night titled “Fill the Well Within.” There will be musical numbers and talk about how in order to truly serve and give, we must first be filled. Not in the pop culture sense that we should go get a pedicure or something, but that our spiritual wells can run dry if we don’t do what’s neccessary to replenish them.

I based my talk on 2 Nephi 2:25-27

25 Adam fell that men might be; and men are, that they might have joy.

26 And the Messiah cometh in the fulness of time, that he may redeem the children of men from the fall. And because that they are redeemed from the fall they have become free forever, knowing good from evil; to act for themselves and not to be acted upon, save it be by the punishment of the law at the great and last day, according to the commandments which God hath given.

27 Wherefore, men are free according to the flesh; and call things are given them which are expedient unto man. And they are free to choose liberty and eternal life, through the great Mediator of all men, or to choose captivity and death, according to the captivity and power of the devil; for he seeketh that all men might be miserable like unto himself.

We are the creators of our lives. We can choose either to act, or to be acted upon. By choosing to act, we fill our wells and create joy in our lives.

Here’s a list of choices we can make to fill our wells:

Choose optimism rather than pessimism.

Choose gratitude over selfishness.

Choose productivity and creativity–don’t waste time!

Choose peace over clutter–or in other words simplicity over complexity.

and most importantly

Choose love.

If everyday we could think about what we are doing and feeling and thinking and ask, “Am I acting, or being acted upon?” If we could focus on being the creators of joy–which is the full measure of our creation–then our wells would be full. We could gain a more proper perspective of what really matters and simply love.