The Pathway to Peace

These past twelve months have been some of the hardest months of my entire life. Our family has gone through some dramatic and painful changes. In reflection of all that has happened, I keep asking myself what there is to learn from it all. What is the Lord trying to teach me? What is He trying to teach us?

I keep thinking of the Serenity Prayer:

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, 

the courage to change the things I can, 

and the wisdom to know the difference." 

Oh, how I pray through all the struggle, "Please help me to learn wisdom!!"

It's funny, but I almost forgot.

As I typed this serenity prayer, a memory flashed into my mind.
When Joseph and I were engaged, a week or two before our wedding date, he became terribly paralyzed with fear, almost to the point of calling the wedding off. I remember him saying, "I promise, It's not you, it's me. I'm afraid I will fail as a husband and father. I'm afraid I won't be able to endure when things get tough." 

I think we all face similar fears throughout our lives. Turn on the news or take a walk down the street, and you'll see some of the best marriages and families falling apart right before your eyes.  No one wants to become another statistic.

As a response to my husband's engagement jitters, I bought him this serenity prayer etched in glass. It looked a little something like the one I've posted here -- the only difference is the one I gave him was rectangle and also had a rose at the bottom. 

He warned me before we married that he suffered greatly with depression. I told him not to worry because four of my six family members had severe depression and not much could phase me: My mom was hospitalized for at least a month or so more than three times for her bipolar. And my dad, brother, and sister had all attempted suicide and had been hospitalized for that. I assured Joseph then from my family experiences that I was quite familiar with depression.

I don't know if that consoled him or not. Ha! It probably frightened him even more thinking about the genes we'd pass on to our children.  I'm just grateful that our kids so far seem to be doing great and despite my husband's depression through all these years, Joseph has never needed to be admitted to a facility like my mom, dad, or siblings. Of course, he's had his rough moments but who doesn't? He's doing far better than the members of my family did. I think he's done quite alright!

It's interesting though, I look back on how our marriage has unfolded together, all that we've been through, and the little gift I bought when he was feeling so low-- I realize that prayer was more for me than it was for him. All these years, through every hardship we have faced, every struggle, this prayer has come into my mind. 

And guess what? Today, after all these years, I discovered that there is more to the prayer. Can you believe it? All this time and I'm only now finding this out. I love this second half. It's absolutely beautiful! This is the prayer in its entirety:

God grant me the serenity

to accept the things I cannot change; 

courage to change the things I can; 

and wisdom to know the difference.

Living one day at a time; 

enjoying one moment at a time; 

accepting hardships as the pathway to peace; 

taking, as He did, this sinful world

as it is, not as I would have it; 

trusting that He will make all things right

if I surrender to His Will; 

that I may be reasonably happy in this life

and supremely happy with Him

forever in the next. 

Amen.

- Reinhold Niebuhr (1892-1971)

I like that line, "accepting hardships as the pathway to peace... trusting that He [God] will make all things right". So many of us often fear tribulation because in the moment it feels like it's going to take us down, like it's going to crush us - but there is another side to it we often don't see. 

Napoleon Hill once said, "Every adversity, every failure, every heartache carries with it the seed of an equal or greater benefit." That's the vision we want to capture when we come face to face with life's struggles. Wisdom, character, and beauty are forged in the furnace of affliction. Therefore, "Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, for wise men say it is the wisest course." -William Shakespeare

-Alicia

Rise Each Time You Fall

 I wasn't able to sit in Sacrament Meeting for our own ward today because I had Stake business... which meant Joseph was on his own with the kids. I was a little distracted in my other meetings because I was so worried that it was going to be another one of those Sundays where our foster kids displayed their hatred for the Sabbath in every possible way, pushing and resisting, fighting and ignoring, squirming and sassing... you know--the whole nine yards. I just didn't want Joseph to have to deal with that by himself because it's so draining.

You can imagine how pleased I was to find out that everything went well. The foster kids did amazing this time! They got along, they sat still, they didn't complain, or fight, or throw tantrums, or make rude remarks. Even tonight went smoothly for bed.  My foster daughter didn't scream for an hour like she has been for the last couple weeks. She went straight up to bed without a fight. I rotated through each child, scratching all their backs for five or six minutes each. Everyone was contented and everyone went to sleep without a struggle. Wow!

Days like these are just enough incentive for us to keep going.

The Stake business I had to attend to today was another ward's conference.  Bishop Speckheart of that ward spoke first and read this poem. I was glad to be there to hear it because I felt like the words were so applicable for this journey my husband and I are on.  I couldn't stop the tears from streaming down my face. This poem was exactly what I needed! Absolutely perfect!

The Race
by, D.H. Groberg

“Quit! Give Up! You’re beaten!”
They shout at me and plead.
“There’s just too much against you now.
This time you can’t succeed.”

And as I start to hang my head
In front of failure’s face,
My downward fall is broken by
The memory of a race.

And hope refills my weakened will
As I recall that scene;
For just the thought of that short race
Rejuvenates my being.

A children’s race–young boys, young men–
How I remember well.
Excitement, sure! But also fear;
It wasn’t hard to tell.

They all lined up so full of hope
Each thought to win that race.
Or tie for first, or if not that,
At least take second place.

And fathers watched from off the side
Each cheering for his son.
And each boy hoped to show his dad
That he would be the one.

The whistle blew and off they went
Young hearts and hopes afire.
To win and be the hero there
Was each young boy’s desire.

And one boy in particular
Whose dad was in the crowd
Was running near the lead and thought:
“My dad will be so proud!”

But as they speeded down the field
Across a shallow dip,
The little boy who thought to win
Lost his step and slipped.

Trying hard to catch himself
His hands flew out to brace,
And mid the laughter of the crowd
He fell flat on his face.

So down he fell and with him hope
–He couldn’t win it now–
Embarrassed, sad, he only wished
To disappear somehow.

But as he fell his dad stood up
And showed his anxious face,
Which to the boy so clearly said,
“Get up and win the race.”

He quickly rose, no damage done,
–Behind a bit, that’s all–
And ran with all his mind and might
To make up for his fall.

So anxious to restore himself
–To catch up and to win–
His mind went faster than his legs:
He slipped and fell again!

He wished then he had quit before
With only one disgrace.
“I’m hopeless as a runner now;
I shouldn’t try to race.”

But in the laughing crowd he searched
And found his father’s face;
That steady look which said again:
“Get up and win the race!”

So up he jumped to try again
–Ten yards behind the last–
“If I’m to gain those yards,” he thought,
“I’ve got to move real fast.”

Exerting everything he had
He regained eight or ten,
But trying so hard to catch the lead
He slipped and fell again!

Defeat! He lied there silently
–A tear dropped from his eye–
“There’s no sense running anymore;
Three strikes: I’m out! Why try!”

The will to rise had disappeared;
All hope had fled away;
So far behind, so error prone;
A loser all the way.

“I’ve lost, so what’s the use,” he thought
“I’ll live with my disgrace.”
But then he thought about his dad
Who soon he’d have to face.

“Get up,” an echo sounded low.
“Get up and take your place;
You were not meant for failure here.
Get up and win the race.”

With borrowed will "get up,” it said,
“You haven’t lost at all.
For winning is no more than this:
To rise each time you fall.”

So up he rose to run once more,
And with a new commit
He resolved that win or lose
At least he wouldn’t quit.

So far behind the others now,
–The most he’d ever been–
Still he gave it all he had
And ran as though to win.

Three times he’d fallen, stumbling;
Three times he rose again;
Too far behind to hope to win
He still ran to the end.

They cheered the winning runner
As he crossed the line first place.
Head high, and proud, and happy;
No falling, no disgrace.

But when the fallen youngster
Crossed the line last place,
The crowd gave him the greater cheer,
For finishing the race.

And even though he came in last
With head bowed low, unproud,
You would have thought he’d won the race
To listen to the crowd.

And to his dad he sadly said,
“I didn’t do too well.”
“To me, you won,” his father said.
“You rose each time you fell.”

And now when things seem dark and hard
And difficult to face,
The memory of that little boy
Helps me in my race.

For all of life is like that race,
With ups and downs and all.
And all you have to do to win,
Is rise each time you fall.

“Quit! Give up! You’re beaten!”
They still shout in my face.
But another voice within me says:
“GET UP AND WIN THE RACE!”

Stronger

Joseph and I have grown so much closer together in the past three-and-a-half months. One of the reasons for this may be because foster care is such a terribly lonely road, there are so few people who understand how it affects the family. It's just one of those things that has to be experienced to grasp the full scale of it all.  Joseph and I have had to rely very heavily on each other for support, we've taken more time to be together, to go on dates, and to confide our hearts. 

When you foster, you invite an immense amount of trauma into your life and the lives of your children--The medical professionals call this secondary trauma. Because foster care is so taxing, so difficult, and so dramatically life-altering, it's important that we have a good team to work with: helpful resource counselors, informed social workers, and accessible support groups. 

Last night, Joseph and I met with the DCFS team for two hours. The meeting was very productive as we addressed every aspect and angle of the difficulties we're facing.  It felt so comforting to have them listen to us, to supply ways and ideas that will make our job a little easier and provide a better environment for the entire household.  We know our DCFS team genuinely cares about us and wants to make this work. 

In less than a month, the parent visits will increase to four hours a week (2 hrs on two different days), court hearings bi-weekly, and therapy two hours a week. Our schedules will definitely be more tight than they've ever been. I have to admit, this makes me a little more nervous to continue my schooling at BYU but I still believe that it's not impossible.

My husband and I are certainly learning to do hard things. We stumble and fall all along the way but we're learning.

I've been so proud to see Joseph increase in his resilience and optimism. He has been a good example to me of humility and faith.  This morning, he announced that he's going to hike Mt. Timponogos this August and he wants to start training with me mid-March. Anyone who knows Joseph would realize that this is absolutely huge for him! He usually hates any kind of exercise but he said he wants this to be a symbol of overcoming difficulty and persevering in the face of great opposition. It's amazing what has come over him!

We're going to make this. With God's grace, we will be strong enough.  We're going to make all of this together and come out on top. I am completely confident!

-Alicia :)

My Song for the Day

Just Keep Swimming!

Lately, Joseph has voiced very openly his desire to move to a new place.  Ever since our landlord passed away and his wife took on the responsibility of the apartments, things just haven't been the same.  Her husband was so sweet, so wonderful at communicating, he loved children and was very easy to work with.  She is the complete and total opposite!

Yesterday, Joseph was on the phone with our landlady trying to iron out our new contract she just put us under.  After an hour of exhausting conversation and nothing being resolved, she finally let him go.  Poor Joseph woke up terribly depressed this morning, the most depressed I've seen in a long time.  My heart goes out to him and I wish so much there was more I could do to ease his burdens.  As a provider, he feels trapped.  He wants to move into a house but he says it could never fit into our budget.  He's already terribly stressed about having to rearrange our budget for our new van and my schooling.  The adversary is working hard on him.  He says he has felt numb toward everything for several weeks now. Each day, after work he's so overwhelmed that all he can do is lay on the bed and sleep for several hours.  I keep thinking of the foster children who will be coming and pray with all my heart that this won't be too much for him.

I really believe we're going to be alright.  The Lord knows we are giving everything we've got. We will be guided to where we need to be and what we need to do.  I'm confident that everything will work out... it always does.  "Just keep swimming!"

-Alicia

A Preparatory Temple

I had the opportunity of attending both the 9:00 and the 3:00 dedication services of the Provo City Center Temple in March.  I took a notebook with me to write down my thoughts and impressions from all who spoke.

The talk that struck me the most during the 9:00 session was Elder Oaks.  He began his address referring to another Temple in our church history that had risen from the ashes, the Nauvoo Temple.  He spoke of it as being a preparatory temple for those pioneer saints to face the difficult journey ahead of them.  It had just been completed when the persecution against the Church grew so intense that they were forced to leave their beautiful Nauvoo.

In his talk Elder Oaks likened the Provo City Center to the Nauvoo Temple saying that it would also be a preparatory temple for the struggles we would face in these last days.  In order to press through the hardships and trials of our day, he encouraged us to re-dedicate our lives to the building of Zion.  He testified of the ability to access heavenly power by doing temple work for our ancestors and also learning their stories.

Along this principle of building up the kingdom of God and establishing Zion in such a contentious day and age, Elder Oaks quoted from Abraham Lincoln's first inaugural address, "Though passion may have strained it must not break our bonds of affection. The mystic chords of memory, stretching from every battlefield and patriot grave to every living heart and hearthstone all over this broad land, will yet swell the chorus of the Union, when again touched, as surely they will be, by the better angels of our nature." (I especially loved that Elder Oaks quoted this because it was something I had just written about 2-and-a-half weeks prior to the dedication.)

He emphasized that this "union" would be bound by the "mystic chords of memory" the stories of our loved ones, our ancestors, those in our family who have passed away.  He promised that as we learn and share their stories of faith, their personal testimonies, their struggles, and their triumphs, we will be "touched... by the better angels of our nature."  This very simple act of turning and connecting to the faith our forefathers and foremothers will not only soften our hearts and help us connect, instill unity, and increase our affection for one another in our family... but also in our community.

This past year, I have studied the life and stories of my 3rd great grandfather, William Wall (on my dad's side) and my great aunt Sylvia (on my mom's side).  Their stories of faith have astonished me.  I had no idea the kinds of things they had to persevere and press through.  They were every bit as brave and valiant as the prophets of old.  A great spirit of reverence and respect has instilled upon my heart for these ancestors of mine.  Even more wonderful, is that through reading their records I have felt their presence very clearly in my life...
I have felt the presence of angels... Something I think we are ALL going to need... for what lies ahead. (2 Kings 6:16)

-Alicia

Broken Things

At the time of Christ's crucifixion, the earth was broken in pieces.  "The rocks were rent in twain; they were broken up upon the face of the whole earth, insomuch that they were found in broken fragments, and in seams and in cracks, upon all the face of the land." (3 Nephi 8:18)
Was this a symbol of the Savior's broken body on the cross?
Was it a symbol of how we too must be broken?

The hearts of the people during that period had become so hardened from their wickedness that "Many great destructions [had the Lord] caused to come upon [the] land" (3 Nephi 9:12)
I believe it was an act of mercy.

In the darkness, the voice of Christ spoke to the people of Nephi calling for them to offer a "broken heart and a contrite spirit." (3 Nephi 9:20)

Why must our hearts be broken?
This morning, as I read these passages in 3 Nephi, I asked myself this question.  I remembered the words to a song I heard years ago by, Kenneth Cope:

Broken
(Words by Kenneth Cope; Music by Kenneth & Eliza Cope)
—inspired by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

Broken clouds give rain
Broken soil grows grain
Broken bread feeds man for one more day
Broken storms yield light
The break of day heals night
Broken pride turns blindness into sight
Broken souls that need His mending
Broken hearts for offering
Could it be that God loves broken things
Broken chains set free
Broken swords bring peace
Broken walls make friends of you and me
To break the ranks of sin
To break the news of Him
To put on Christ till His name feels broken in
Broken souls that need His mending
Broken hearts for offering
I believe that God loves broken things
And yet, our broken faith, our broken promises
Sent love to the cross
And still, that broken flesh, that broken heart of His
Offers us such grace and mercy
Covers us with love undeserving
This broken soul that cries for mending
This broken heart for offering
I’m convinced that God loves broken me
Praise His name—my God loves broken things
So, broken cloud—Give rain
And broken soil—Grow grain
And broken bread—Feed man for one more day
© 2004 Merge Right Music (BMI)

It all makes sense... this need we have to be broken.  It's beautiful!

And so, I rejoice that I can find hope in the midst of hurt.  There is purpose in the breaking... it's all part of "the making."

-Alicia