Sunday, January 31, 2010
Christmas Layout
I finally finished my layout for Christmas 2009! I'm so excited! It has taken me a ridiculous amount of time to complete. Here it is for your viewing pleasure:
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Jesus Does Housekeeping?
It was Mason's turn to say the family prayer this morning. Before he began, Michael reminded him to thank Heavenly Father for Uncle Ryan's recovery and to ask for help in cleaning the kids bedrooms today. So Mason said, "thank you that Uncle Ryan can go home, and please bless that Jesus can clean our rooms today."
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Sunday Services
Today, we made it to church on time. (Early, in fact.) And got a pew. But that's not what I'm writing about (although that is miraculous in itself). After our three hour block of church, we went home, quickly fed the kids, and then went to a old folks' home for sacrament meeting. We arrived a little early (again, shocking - I know) and helped set up. There were already people in wheelchairs (they look like oversized strollers to me) waiting in the room, and soon some other folks were wheeled in.
I thought it would be nice to visit with a resident or two, but Michael beat me to it with one guy, and I had three little seagulls that I was feeding goldfish crackers to (I mean children... you know - "mine" "mine" "mine") and trying to keep reverent. So I let Michael be our family ambassador to the old people. The other residents were pretty out of it, anyway. There was one woman whose hands were gnarled and her arms seemed locked in a fetal position. Her jaw moved constantly as though she were chewing imaginary gum.
The meeting began, we sang a hymn, Michael said the opening prayer, and then the sacrament was prepared and passed. A deacon passed the bread while a teacher walked with him to assist the older people in receiving the sacrament if needed. At first, I didn't understand why it took two young men to pass one tray, but then I watched as the teacher took a piece of bread and carefully put it in an old woman's mouth. Only, he didn't get it in all the way. I was transfixed as I watched her struggle to get it the rest of the way in her mouth without being able to use her hands. Meanwhile the teacher stood uncertainly as he wondered whether or not he should push the bread the rest of the way into her mouth. Finally, he walked over and with one finger lightly prodded it all the way in. I watched as the next resident took the bread, and then the next. The sacrament service was so sweet. I thought it was wonderful that these young men give of their time each week to provide this sacred service, and that they did so with such compassion.
The third resident was the woman with the gnarled hands. The room was very quiet as the sacrament was passed. My curiosity as to how these residents would take the sacrament held my attention on them, instead of my boys. I watched while the elderly woman slowly lifted her gnarled hand and selected a piece of bread from the tray. She opened her mouth widely and as she stuck her tongue out to reach the bread in her hand, the stillness was broken with a very loud, "EEWWWWWWWWWW!" and then Thomas and Mason busted up laughing uncontrollably. Mason tried to add to his comment, but I was terrified at what more he would say, so I impulsively stuck my finger in his mouth under his tongue so that he couldn't get a word out.
At the same time that it was mortifiying, it was also hilarious. I hadn't realized that my children had been watching the residents with the same fascination as I had. It seemed like Mason and Thomas laughed for a long time, though in reality I'm sure it was only for a minute. It was one of those tear-inducing laughs that you just can't stop. Michael took Mason on his lap and I pulled Thomas near me to help quiet them down. When it was time for the water to be passed, Michael advised me to turn Thomas' head away from the residents to prevent anymore outbursts. He was blocking Mason's view, as well. The rest of the meeting went pretty well. There were two short talks. Thomas and Mason kept asking when we were going to go home. Megan yawned loudly. Just after the closing prayer, as I was returning to my seat, Thomas said, "Are we going to go home now? Because I don't like to be around dying people."
I don't think we'll ever be asked to go help at the old folk's home again.
On the way home, I asked Thomas how he knew those people were dying. He said "because they had their eyes shut." McKenzie said, "That doesn't mean they're dying. They're just sleeping." But we thought Thomas' assessment was correct. They are dying a long, slow death. Michael said that if we live that long, we are going to start going on a lot of windy road trips.
I felt so bad for the old woman. I hoped she didn't realize that my children were laughing at her. She looked over at us as we were hushing our boys, and I was desperately trying to supress a smile. I rationalize that they could have easily been talking or thinking about something else and Mason's exclamation was just bad timing.... only, everyone else knew what they were laughing about. Well, I'll pray that she forgets. That should be an easy prayer to answer.
I thought it would be nice to visit with a resident or two, but Michael beat me to it with one guy, and I had three little seagulls that I was feeding goldfish crackers to (I mean children... you know - "mine" "mine" "mine") and trying to keep reverent. So I let Michael be our family ambassador to the old people. The other residents were pretty out of it, anyway. There was one woman whose hands were gnarled and her arms seemed locked in a fetal position. Her jaw moved constantly as though she were chewing imaginary gum.
The meeting began, we sang a hymn, Michael said the opening prayer, and then the sacrament was prepared and passed. A deacon passed the bread while a teacher walked with him to assist the older people in receiving the sacrament if needed. At first, I didn't understand why it took two young men to pass one tray, but then I watched as the teacher took a piece of bread and carefully put it in an old woman's mouth. Only, he didn't get it in all the way. I was transfixed as I watched her struggle to get it the rest of the way in her mouth without being able to use her hands. Meanwhile the teacher stood uncertainly as he wondered whether or not he should push the bread the rest of the way into her mouth. Finally, he walked over and with one finger lightly prodded it all the way in. I watched as the next resident took the bread, and then the next. The sacrament service was so sweet. I thought it was wonderful that these young men give of their time each week to provide this sacred service, and that they did so with such compassion.
The third resident was the woman with the gnarled hands. The room was very quiet as the sacrament was passed. My curiosity as to how these residents would take the sacrament held my attention on them, instead of my boys. I watched while the elderly woman slowly lifted her gnarled hand and selected a piece of bread from the tray. She opened her mouth widely and as she stuck her tongue out to reach the bread in her hand, the stillness was broken with a very loud, "EEWWWWWWWWWW!" and then Thomas and Mason busted up laughing uncontrollably. Mason tried to add to his comment, but I was terrified at what more he would say, so I impulsively stuck my finger in his mouth under his tongue so that he couldn't get a word out.
At the same time that it was mortifiying, it was also hilarious. I hadn't realized that my children had been watching the residents with the same fascination as I had. It seemed like Mason and Thomas laughed for a long time, though in reality I'm sure it was only for a minute. It was one of those tear-inducing laughs that you just can't stop. Michael took Mason on his lap and I pulled Thomas near me to help quiet them down. When it was time for the water to be passed, Michael advised me to turn Thomas' head away from the residents to prevent anymore outbursts. He was blocking Mason's view, as well. The rest of the meeting went pretty well. There were two short talks. Thomas and Mason kept asking when we were going to go home. Megan yawned loudly. Just after the closing prayer, as I was returning to my seat, Thomas said, "Are we going to go home now? Because I don't like to be around dying people."
I don't think we'll ever be asked to go help at the old folk's home again.
On the way home, I asked Thomas how he knew those people were dying. He said "because they had their eyes shut." McKenzie said, "That doesn't mean they're dying. They're just sleeping." But we thought Thomas' assessment was correct. They are dying a long, slow death. Michael said that if we live that long, we are going to start going on a lot of windy road trips.
I felt so bad for the old woman. I hoped she didn't realize that my children were laughing at her. She looked over at us as we were hushing our boys, and I was desperately trying to supress a smile. I rationalize that they could have easily been talking or thinking about something else and Mason's exclamation was just bad timing.... only, everyone else knew what they were laughing about. Well, I'll pray that she forgets. That should be an easy prayer to answer.
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