Sleeves...

I wore long sleeves… to the gym… to a class where everyone else was wearing clothes to really sweat in. I had massive second thoughts as I stood outside the glass door, biting my lip and fighting the urge to walk away. Too late. My sweet, encouraging friend saw me, brought me in, got all the equipment I would need and quickly set it up for me. How could I walk away now?

The class began and I found myself moving my body in familiar forms, keeping time with the music and rejoicing in the fact that maybe I could still do this! Two years with a trainer and consistent daily exercise had toned my muscles and they remembered! They remembered the movement at least… but the last three months had taken a toll I did not realize until I looked at my hands. They did not match. My right hand was swelling, bulging slightly around the bottom of my compression sleeve. At the next break I sat on the end of my risers, holding out my hands and taking stock of what I was actually looking at. Was one hand bigger than the other? Really? My friend came over to see if I was ok and agreed that I probably shouldn't keep going.  Thus began another public admission (try going through airport security with a Jackson Pratt drain - as humiliating as you can imagine!) that I was not the same as everyone else there. Not any more. I put my equipment away, fighting tears and fears of having my arm swell up to the size of Pop-eyes massive forearm before I could get out of there.

Something I wouldn't care to experience again

Tender mercies of the day:  For some reason I hadn't worn my glove which would have masked the swelling, I did get home before my arm got any bigger, and most importantly, my husband was still home and could enfold me in his arms and tell me it would be alright and what to do because he knows...

An agonizing week has gone by. My arm has slowly deflated like a balloon with the air released, as close to matching my other arm as it may ever get. My loving husband, who says that ANYTHING is better than having a single cell of melanoma in my body, continues to love me in spite of the scars, bumps, and losses incurred from health problems. How was I so fortunate to have this man choose to love me? That is a subject for another blog on another day.

So happy, so carefree… so FALSE advertising

Adam and Eve's Clothing

I've been enjoying a book called "Your Endowment" by Mark Shields and thought of something I never have before. When Adam and Eve were given animal skins as garments to cover their nakedness, it is not improbable to think that the animals would have probably been "sacrificed" to provide coverings for them… It is also not improbable that was probably a "type" of the sacrifice of the Atonement, right?! I just had the thought that it might have been lambs!!! Lambskin is SO soft it would make sense... and how poignant would it be to think about Adam and Eve knowing the lamb from the time spent in the Garden of Eden? 

But if you think about it, we ALL know "The Lamb" as our Elder Brother. The book talks about how the whole LDS temple ceremony points to our Savior and teaches of the Atonement, and that everything is symbolic. I am looking forward to seeing more meaning in the symbols as I attend.

Trials Make Us Good Timber

http://www.flickr.com/photos/shotslot/8147080749/

Interesting article here "When Trouble Comes" about trees that grew in the Biosphere dome experiment. New trees planted in the protected atmosphere grew rapidly but toppled over before they could reach their height and reproduce. Adding to the tragedy was the final failure, the wood was too soft to be useful. Without the wind to buffet them, the trees did not develop the strength to stand tall with strong, sturdy trunks and branches. So it goes with men and women. This poem says it perfectly.

Good Timber

by Doug Malloch

The tree that never had to fight

For sun and sky and air and light,

But stood out on the open plain

And always got its share of rain,

Never became a forest king

But lived and died a scrubby thing.

The man who never had to toil

To gain and farm his patch of soil,

Who never had to win his share

Of sun and sky and light and air,

Never became a manly man

But lived an died as he began.

Good timber does not grow with ease.

The stronger wind, the stronger trees,

The further sky the greater length,

The more the storm, the more the strength.

By sun and cold, by rain and snow,

In trees and man good timbers grow

Where thickest lies the forest growth,

We find the patriarchs of both.

And they hold counsel with the stars

Whose broken branches show the scars

Of many winds and much of strife.

This is the common law of life.

"Marriage Isn't For You"

My daughter sent me this link because she thought it was so profound. I agreed and enjoyed reading the thoughts I've been having the past few months expressed so simply and so beautifully. Yes, there are many more facets to marriage, and in every relationship we have actually, but thinking of someone besides yourself is a great place to start. It doesn't have to be more complicated than that.
It turns out this young couple was born and raised under our very noses. We are good friends with both of their parents! The wisdom Seth's father bestows his son is not uncommon or exclusive to this particular time. He and his wife are already great examples of this truth and many others. Their family is a great benefit to our congregation. Much love to them and a shout out to Seth and Kim!

Click here to read "Marriage Isn't For You" by Seth Smith

What a blessing to have this message receive so much national attention.
They are especially eloquent in this brief interview on Good Morning America

Click here to see interview

Relationships Have Risks

We sit side by side in the same room, listening to the same things, and hear it so differently.  As the competent and caring cancer specialist spells out the numbers and their meaning, I hear the 80% chance of me surviving 10 years but my physician husband hears the 20% chance of me dying in 10 years. The specialist shows us a graph of my 10 yr survival chances so we can have a visual. I see how close the line is to the top of the page but he sees ANY space between my death and his life continuing beyond that as a vast Sahara desert.... still too much risk to ever be comfortably peaceful again. I wish I could calm his fears... but he knows so much... so much more of death and unexpected outcomes than I ever will.

As the doctor is speaking to us, my mind leaves to explore other paths. I wonder at everyone's desire to stay on the earth when if we truly believe what we are taught as toddlers, that life is INFINITELY better on the other side, (I mean that IS why we call it Heaven...) then why do people fight so hard to stay here?

I look down at his hand holding mine and think, “Oh... the unknown distance between the joining of hearts and hands again. That, I do understand....”

I also wonder what makes men wear bowties...