Thankful Thursday: July 10th, 2014

Six years ago I was sitting in our duplex apartment, rocking at all hours of the day, and trying to carefully find my footing and balance as a new mother. Mr. H started graduate school, I left my job (and an office full of amazing friends), and there I was--fulfilling my dream of becoming a Mom...and more specifically, stay-at-home mother.

As the summer turned into fall, I found myself grasping for signs of my accomplishments, seeking out affirmations, and praying for insights on how to juggle my new life and invite calm even on the more challenging days.

I had been blogging our family blog (the old family blog, followed later by the new family blog) for a few years, but decided to start a brand new blog just for me--for whatever it might become. I imagined it to be a space for my own creative needs--sharing parts of my experience and encouraging myself to write. Writing for me always seems to bring a sweetness to the sours of life.

 I wrote my very first post on this blog  on the first of October (my baby boy was now 4 months old)--it was a story from my mission experience in Portugal. It felt great to write. It felt liberating to think beyond the confines of my sometimes very tedious feeling days. To have a space--just for me.

Not long after that, I posted a Thanksgiving post full of the classic "I am grateful for" items and joys. That felt amazing. I started posting Thankful lists on Thursdays--I decided to call them "Thankful Thursday" posts and made it a weekly ritual. I didn't realize it when I started, but over time I noticed something--my Thursdays were so much more fulfilling than other days of the week! 

My perspective of who I was and what my days looked like was changing. I found myself noticing the littlest things and keeping them in my mind to remember for Thankful Thursday. I was less stressed about the challenges I was facing, and I found myself feeling closer to God. 

Thankful Thursday posts gave me a time every week to sit and think about ONE THING ONLY--the {little and big} things in my world for which I was grateful.

The time I spent on the lists was changing my focus, and it felt fantastic!

I have tried to be consistent with my posts--going back and even catching up when weeks behind or posting several weeks for a month or more to stay on track. 

As of today--July 10th, I haven't posted a Thankful Thursday post since April 10th--that's 3 full months! I don't think I've ever been this far behind...and the thought of going back through my weeks to give accurate updates makes me laugh (or cry?). I have shared thankful thoughts on Facebook fairly regularly, though--that counts for something?

What I do want to say is--I am thankful for the power and peace that regular expressions of gratitude brings to individuals & families. I have experienced first hand that it can bring a level of clarity and calm that otherwise is difficult to maintain, without some kind of consistent one-on-one time with your thankful thoughts.

And I have missed this--I am ready to jump back in the game.

_______________________________________

Today is Thankful Thursday, I want to share an inspiring quote from this talk about gratitude:

Right?

So, friends...what are you thankful for today?

*Also, guess what? 

I'm blogging on the family blog again too! 

Not caught up by any stretch of the imagination...

but, I've posted this month!

Lead, Kindly Light {What I Was Doing Eleven Years Ago}

This week—11 years ago.

{A short version which might seem long.}

 

Sister Jackson

The last Sunday (Sept. 29^th) in the Provo MTC felt like an out of body experience. It was the next-to-last day of my 8 week training period before I would be across the ocean and dropped into my new home: Portugal—and I was trying to balance my varied emotions. I remember singing with my district (a tradition—to sing with your district the last Sunday in the MTC) in Porguguese--“Brilha Meiga Luz” (Lead Kindly Light) and bore testimonies. That hymn became sacred for me that Sunday and has since been a tender favorite.

Lead, kindly Light, amid th'encircling gloom;

Lead thou me on!

Advice that I wrote in my journal included a message from Brother Fillmore: “Continue in your gospel study for the best intellectual study you will ever find” I loved that quote and it has come to my mind many times since then. I have found it to be true. Scriptural study is enlightening and offers a spiritual power that cannot be earned in any other means of study.

MTC District

The Monday (Sept. 30^th) before our departure was chaotic at best. We had a long list of To Do’s (written on our makeshift chalkboard (the plastic on an unwrapped mattress in our room)) including laundry, bookstore, copy center, sewing sisters, organize, pack, package stuff to send home, Thank you notes, letter writing, hair cut,  last from-the-MTC letters (many!), re-packing, re-organizing, weighing bags, taking things out, turning in keys, and I ended up sleeping from 2:30am-3:30am after a full day of running. Non-stop last-minute action.

Sister J & Sister J: scrambling to get it all packed up!

We lined up early Tuesday (Oct. 1^st) morning outside building 1M --still dark and now raining—to wait for the bus to pick up the outgoing group of nametagged, anxious Elders & Sisters. It was strange to look out the bus windows and see so many familiar locations in Provo/Orem…and realize that was the last for a long while. The rain pounded hard as we unloaded at the airport and at the United Airlines desk my cheerleading crew (Kendra, Debbie, & Trevor) ran up to me—I felt a rush of calm. Trevor gave me a new, specially made CTR ring and told me he is moving home to Kentucky. My friends showered me with travel goodies and I talked to Mom and a few others on a cell phone before we loaded our first flight. 

Goodbye handshake with Trevor {awkward at best}

SLCà ChicagoàGermany

(where the passenger next to me said “Oh you have a badge, that must mean you’re important”)

à Oporto, Portugal.

Describing the feelings upon walking through airport customs and seeing my mission president & his wife for the first time: “I didn’t know whether to cry or laugh or smile. So I smiled.”

President & Sister Soares: Mission Home in Oporto, Portugal 

The night is dark, and I am far from home;

Lead thou me on!

From my journal on Wednesday October 2nd: “There are 15 Sisters in our mission today, 4 of us are new today. They received all new sisters in July, August, & October—so we’re basically all new. There are 115 Elders.”

Sister Missionaries: Oporto, Porto Mission {October 2002}

“The drive [from the airport to the mission home] was about 20 minutes, not through any big city area, but quaint…laundry hanging up, green trees, small European cars, people smoking, a few bridges, some cool designs with tiles on the outside of buildings…I was trying to drink it all in, but mostly was trying to orient myself…cobblestone streets, colorful buildings, blue-purple flowers…so beautiful!”

That first night we enjoyed a delicious meal and little devotional with President & Sister Soares. We each received a polished rock and a reminder that we are starting out like rough stones, and we will be polished through our experiences & the Savior’s invitation to grow, change, and serve with love. I can still remember going to sleep that first night in Porto. The heaviness of my tired eyes sharply contrasted the excitement in my willing feet.

Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see

The distant scene--one step enough for me.

Thursday (Oct. 3^rd) I woke up in a daze. “I’m in Portugal—Braga here I come! I’m not really sure if I really know what this means—I’m here—and my job? We get up at 7am and are out until 10pm, bed by 11pm. I hand washed my dress last night—I wanted to wear it today because it’s so easy and then I don’t have to iron.”

My first companionship was a ‘tripla’—there were three of us Sisters serving together (instead of the typical two) and we were living and working in the beautiful, hillside, historic city of Braga. It is the third largest city in Portugal and the furthest area in our mission in which Sister missionaries could serve.

Trains, buses, taxis...no bikes for these missionaries!

We rode two different trains to get to our apartment, dropped off my bags and went to Loja de Sopas for dinner before walking a couple of miles to an appointment. I taught principles 3 & 4 in the 2^nd palestra. I was terrified but stumbled through it. Before going to bed I wrote in my journal “I don’t think I’ve walked so much in a big city before…my feet ache! And I’m excited about that.”

So long thy pow'r hath blest me, sure it still

Will lead me on

Friday (Oct. 4^th) I woke up for the first time in my first missionary apartment—at 6:55am. It was an older apartment, up at least one flight of stairs. I remember the outside traffic sounds I could hear in the office and the huge closet in an empty room across the hall where I unpacked my clothes.

From my journal that first day in Braga: “We went to email at a local library for emails and on the way 1)I almost stepped in dog poo (note to self: watch out!), 2) an old man with no teeth stopped us and said I have no idea what, 3) all the old ladies where dresses & heels. At the grocery store I noticed TONS of yogurt, milk in cartons (that can stay on the shelf), no one bags your stuff, and lots of amazing chocolate. Shopping means walking home with lots of groceries which was new & strange. We taught part of the 1^st discussion to a Brasilian lady and her baby Philipe…then also to Luis who believes in reincarnation and loves to talk. We walk everywhere. I can’t believe it.”

Uphill, downhill...cobblestones

O'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till

The night is gone

Saturday (Oct. 5^th) “We left and walked up around the centro to Alena’s house—Her two kids were home alone when we stopped by so we shared with them some scriptures. It was cool to hear these two kids speak Portuguese so fluently and I tried to visualize each word as Ruben & Marisa spoke. I have so much to learn. They live in such sad circumstances...”

Braga Centro

“…we walked through the centro. I love it! It is so beautiful! Shops, stores, market stops, a fountain—quaint and a tad touristy…o minho is the area we’re in and I’m falling in love. I’m so glad we get to live in this part of Braga!”

Braga Centro

“We knocked doors & doors & doors & doors until our appointment with Florenzee. She has dark curles, mysterious eyes, welcoming smile, & a Brasilian ambiance. She is here for work & school but has a few issues with what we’re teaching. Let’s just say…her current employment is in nighttime entertainment.  It was easy for me to get lost in the conversation between the thick Brasilian accent and her slight lisp, but she is so eager to learn and read scriptures with us. We then continued to knock doors until we got to our other compromisso with “the Brasileiros”. I guess the Sisters found them earlier this week, we taught the 1° again—4 rapazes (boys) & 1 rapariga (girl)…they seemed intent and curious. The most marvelous thing—the feelings you feel while teaching are amazing. Even when I’m so nervous. The things I DO know how to say are the most important. Eu sei que… (I know that…”)

And with the morn those angel faces smile,

Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!

 

Balcony of our Braga Apartment

That first week as a sister missionary in Portugal

 was intense

{physically, emotionally, & mentally}

I was given opportunities to push myself

And feel the love of God

Lead me on

Through the truths we were teaching

And the people to whom we were ministering.

And learned more about myself than I ever will again in such a short period of time.

I fell in love with all things Portuguese

And what it means to follow that ‘kindly light’

Which has been the greatest of all the lessons ever taught or learned by missionaries worldwide.

...

I loved to choose and see my path; but now,

Lead thou me on!

...

Lyrics from Lead,Kindly Light

Found hFound hereere

Instagram Great Gram {Family Proclamation Celebration Kickoff!}

Today is "Instagram Great Gram Day"

to kickoff the Family Proclamation Celebration Week

Meet Elizabeth:

(& Samuel)

 I spent some time today "getting to know" Elizabeth through the life story that we have recorded in an amazing book filled with records, dates, stories, and photos. I am grateful for the many hours spent in making this book and that my family & I have it as a resource and record to enjoy and connect with our Jackson roots. 

I am honored to share with you some of what I learned about my great-great-great grandmother, Elizabeth.


"Elizabeth Bott Brough was born March 9, 1838, at Seighfod, Longton, Staffordshire, England the eldest of nine children of Benjamin Bott and Elizabeth Abbott Bott. 

She belonged to the Church of England. When [she] began going with Samuel Brough her parents were bitterly opposed because he belonged to the Mormon Church and in every way tried to oppose it. She went with [him] every chance that she could and was converted and he baptized her. As soon as her parents found out, they turned her from her home. Soon after, she married [Samuel]."

Having family disown you for your religious convictions would be a terribly lonely and heavy burden to bear. Elizabeth was strong in her faith and, hand in hand with Samuel, kept her eyes focused on their commitments to each other and to the Lord. I need to find ways to focus in and march through those lonely experiences.

Four children were born to them while they lived in England in an additional room that Samuel built onto his father's home. I imagined what that would be like to be newlyweds and with a young family--living in an extra ROOM built onto my in-law's house. Wild.

"They left Liverpool on May 30th, 1863, on the ship Cynosure and came with a company of 754 Saints under the direction of David M. Stuart. They arrived in New York harbor on July 19th, 1863."

Two months on a ship. With four small children (by then the oldest was 5 & the youngest was 3 months). I feel a little silly to have stressed out about about our three week trip which was pretty luxurious compared to their ocean crossing travel (and really not at all comparable). Elizabeth was a courageous young mother. I want to be courageous too.

"While on board their little boy Sammy had measles and was very sick. Several times they were afraid he would die and have to be buried at sea. From here they traveled part of the way to Florence, Neb., in cattle cars and crossed the river to Florence on the ferry. Shortly after arriving in Florence, Neb., Sammy died with the aftereffects of measles on August 7th.

They buried him there in the Mormon cemetery in a dry goods box and in a little colored nightgown. [Elizabeth] took the crepe off her bonnet that she had for her father's funeral the year before, and stuffed the cracks in the box."

They stayed for another week before starting to cross the plains to go westward. I imagine that Florence, Nebraska must have become hallowed ground in Elizabeth's heart--to bury her baby boy and then have to leave so soon after. I cannot fathom the heartache she carried (in addition to many other physical items) across the plains with her. 

Up to this point in Elizabeth's life she was rejected by her family, she lived in a small space with her in-laws, she travelled across the ocean (without many accommodations) with four children (all 5 & under), travelled by cattle car with her sick baby boy, and buried him in a little box before leaving--knowing she would likely never return to his gravesite again. Now I feel like a big wimp. My heart is aching for Elizabeth's broken mother-heart. 

"They were held up until the Tabernacle organ pipes came, so the company could bring them. Not much is known of their crossing. A bedridden woman rode in their wagon and [Elizabeth] walked and carried a baby part of the way. [Samuel] walked all of the way. Snow had already fallen before they reached Salt Lake City on October 15, 1863."

What an experience to have crossed the plains--walking, carrying babies, sharing wagon space with someone who couldn't walk, and having the unique opportunity to be in the company that carried the organ pipes for the tabernacle. THE tabernacle! The one we can still listen to today and hear the incredible sounds of sweet music notes. I love that physical reminder and connection with Elizabeth. I wonder if she imagined their significance?

"They lived in a dugout in the side of a hill. Just a hole dug in the hill and lined with adobes and with a fireplace on one side. The next spring when the snow began to melt...the water washed down the chimney and part of the wall."

Sweet, patient, amazing Elizabeth. She lived in a hole dug out of a hill. No doubt there was no other choice and having her own space (instead of boarding with another family) was likely top on her list. What would that be like? I look at my warm, clean house and wish I could have her over for lunch and let her stay here for awhile to rest. I want to be patient like Elizabeth.

"...Emma was born March 25th. This same year Liza died. They watched her all night before she died, with just the light from the fireplace. They moved into a two room log house just before William Thomas was born."

Elizabeth was blessed with another baby girl (5th baby!), and that same year, baby girl Liza slipped away to her heavenly home. I looked on the records, she was 2 years old. My baby girl is almost two years old. I can't profess to know what Elizabeth felt but I know it must have been overwhelming. Elizabeth was strong through trial and she relied on the Savior to walk through the valleys. I want to rely on the Savior more consistently.

Elizabeth & Samuel moved again, another baby was born. They moved again  another baby was born and finally moved to Randolph, UT in 1870. I talk about us moving "four times in the last 4 years" as being a huge deal. Elizabeth was a master mover. Granted, she probably didn't have near the amount of boxes that I do (it's ridiculous), but moving is hard whatever size of moving van (wagon!) you have.  In addition to all the moves, her husband would work out of town during the winters--so she would run the farm, house, & children while he was away. This woman knew how to get things done--even with her husband out of town for work. I want to have work ethic like Elizabeth.

"Elizabeth worked in the Relief Society and she ...[was] among the first members here. She was good to those in need and those without mothers." 

In addition to her eleven children, she raised two more who needed a home and a mother. Elizabeth knew how to serve and use her talents as a woman of God to bless others' lives. She understand her place in the Plan of Salvation and she had confidence in her strengths. She knew she was a daughter of God. I want to serve with a Christlike love.

"[Elizabeth was a] refined and dignified old lady, clean, and always neatly dressed. Her home was always spic and span." 
And I found this detail on familysearch.org: "She always had pretty bonnets that tied under her chin. The way she tied her aprons was to tie the bow in front so she could get the bows even and then slip the bow around to the back."

Clearly, Elizabeth knew how to keep her home (even through the many, small, and dirt-made ones!), self, and family well put together! Even with her meager circumstances, it was a priority for her to keep things neat, clean, and with a lovely presentation (really? bows even?). I admire her humility to live in so many unsettling places but to bloom where she is planted...and bloom beautifully. Now I am really wanting to meet Elizabeth--teach me how to keep a house clean even with little children...and oh those apron tying skills!


"She never regretted the sacrifices she made to come to Zion and leaving her own people. She was 83 years old when she died."

I can sense in the photo of Elizabeth & Samuel that she carried herself with dignity and grace. What a gift of service and love--Elizabeth gave to her many children, grandchildren, neighbors, and friends. I love that the impression she left with her posterity was that of not having regrets for the sacrifices she made. What an inspiring woman who followed her sweetheart's testimony to find her own--raise a family in faith and journey through the challenges of life. I am inspired by Elizabeth's strength in faith, motherhood, and patience. I come from a long line of women who knew who they were and acted on it. My job is to honor their names by doing my part. I can do hard things!




So that's it! Probably a bit more than the "Instagram Great Gram" initial idea was about, but I'm so grateful for that nudging to help me learn and ponder Elizabeth's life story. I hope you've felt inspired by her story as well. Want to find photos of the women and men who came before you?

Go here!! to find photos of YOUR ancestors!

Quotes about Elizabeth's life taken from the Jackson Family History Book

pgs 443, 444

Small & Simple Things {& a link}

I just found this new website yesterday:
Just An Average Mormon. 

I have had a recent experience on my heart and have been meaning to journal it--so I decided to go ahead and send it in to share on this site as well. 

Check out my post: Snail Mail: Small & Simple Things

Prayer Power

Confession: I am already listening to Christmas music.

I can't help myself, I love the energy of the holidays!

The more people I know and the longer I live, the more I realize that life is a continuous, crazy, beautiful series of UPS and DOWNS. Sometimes the downs seem lower than we would ever want to venture and sometimes we don't even recognize the ups or the stunning vistas they offer.


Over the last few weeks,  I have learned that various friends around the country are suffering losses. Job losses, miscarriage loss, cancer losses, broken marriage losses, and loss of quality of life through illness. These hearts are hanging heavy, hands are wringing with stress, and eyes are wet. 


I have tried to find ways to lift, alleviate, and extend compassion and love. I have sent cards & emails, made phone calls, taken meals, and given hugs (even virtual ones). In the end, I feel hopeless to change, solve, or fix any of these challenges. I add their heartaches to my pleading prayers.


I believe in the power of prayer.


I believe that life is not supposed to be easy (although sometimes we think it should?).


I believe that we can survive all of the downs, and there is a soothing energy in recognizing and rejoicing in the little miracles along the way.


I believe that God loves us, and wants the best for us. I have felt His love in my life, most especially perhaps--in the valleys that have formed part of my path.


Today my soul is full of thoughts and love for my friends who are trying to make sense of their various heartbreaks. My heart is full for the many, many more around the world who are aching for relief. May our prayers reach their heavy hearts.

Do you believe in the power of prayer?

Thankful Thursday: April 8, 2010

I bought some Easter candy yesterday for 50% off. There was TONS of it left (I wonder if everyone was in diet mode, hoping for summer to creep closer?), I'm sure it will go on a bigger sale but I couldn't resist the pastel peanut M&Ms.

They are my favorite.

Not the pastel colors, but the crunchy peanut goodness inside.

*Crunch!*

I bought two bags...should I have grabbed more?

Actually, ALL of the Easter *stuff* was on sale--the bunnies with their carrots, the baskets with their fluff, the bright colored gifts. I didn't really pay much attention to the rest of it.

I wondered later if we pay enough attention to the reality of it.

The real Easter.

Unlike my grabbing two bags on sale, Christ the Savior paid full price for EVERY SINGLE PERSON with His perfect life. He sacrificed for each of us. EACH ONE OF US. The grateful and then ungrateful alike.

He lived, served, and offered His sacrifice with the purest, softest, most all-encompassing kind of love. His love and sacrifice make it possible for all of us, imperfect and quirky as we are, to be cleansed and progress in our lives. What a love. What a sacrifice for sin.

And then!

THEN!

On the third day...

*Crunch!*

The bonds of death were broken. He was resurrected. His body and spirit were united again and He literally fulfilled ancient prophecy. His resurrection also guaranteed a free gift to all of us. FREE.

He paid full price.

We get for free.

What a deal.

His resurrection means we will each, likewise, be resurrected (our bodies & spirits reunited) after death. There is no hope, no light, no love greater than this.

When we boil it all down (and set aside our boiled, decorated eggs), THIS is the greatest gift in our basket. We owe so much to Him who gave His all.

I feel so grateful to Him.

His love offers the ultimate hope and light in a dark world.

And really, who doesn't need hope & light?

I am grateful to know these truths.

And I am grateful that anyone can know about them too.

I am grateful for the confidence and peace that His life and gospel offer.

I am grateful to see His love in so many moments of my life--

I am grateful to celebrate His life, sacrifice, and resurrection at this beautiful season...

...all the way down to pastel M&Ms.

Are you feelin' the love?

*I am not anti-Easter bunny, but I am pro-shift-the-focus.