TICK!!!!!!!!!!!!

This was on my leg the other night and I tell you Lyndon could not have gotten it off fast enough. I was  f r e a k i n g out. Mostly because it was eating me and I could not feel it! It was attached...and not as easy to get off and unlatched as I had hoped.  All the yokals, or people used to pulling ticks off themselves daily think I'm a wussy. Maybe. Okay, so I am when it come to ticks. Blah! I think I'd take a spider over this. At least you can feel it bite!

The Best Mother's Day talk I have ever heard (today in fact)from a Brother in the ward...lots of reading, but worth it. I laughed and cried.

Mother’s Day 2010

What I learned…

I’ve been in this ward for almost two years now. I’m not sure if you’re all aware of this or not, but in my whole life, I’ve never been a mother.

So I’m not sure how qualified I am to give a talk on Mother’s Day. But I have been doing some market research.

I would like to share with you a few things I learned a couple of weeks ago as I babysat overnight for a family with 4 young children. From this 28 hour ordeal, I learned:

• If a baby spits up, you should take off the messy clothes but don't put on clean clothes until you're sure he's done spitting up.
• I learned that with kids, there is absolutely no point in cleaning the house. Ever. You’re just rearranging deck-chairs on the Titanic man, cause that ship is going down.
• I learned that kids are absolutely shameless with their demands – give me some chocolate milk, read me a story, come play ball in the basement with me, I have to go potty, I want more chocolate milk, and on and on...
• I learned that little girls who are newly potty trained have bladders approximately the size of walnuts such that they have to go potty approximately every 16 minutes, which as it turn out, usually coincides perfectly with the exact moment that babies start puking and brothers start insisting on having more chocolate milk.
• I learned that 3 kids jumping on the trampoline at the same time never ends well
• I learned that the only way I could survive a 28 hour ordeal like this is by knowing that it would all be over by Saturday at 3:00, at which point I would be free to go home and lock myself in my bedroom where I would remain undisturbed for the rest of the day.
• Most of all, I learned that no one, no one, no one deserves more honor and praise than mothers.

No, in all my life I’ve never been a mother. And chances are, I never will be.

But sometimes in my life, I have felt that just being around those of you who are mothers brings me closer to God. So on this Mother’s Day, I’d like to share a few examples of what I mean.

Heather

I have a sister-in-law named Heather who has struggled with chronic health problems her whole adult life. It was after much prayer and fasting that she and my brother decided to start their family.

Soon enough, Heather was expecting, due to have a baby boy on April Fool’s day.

I was home with my family that Christmas, when Heather was 6 months pregnant.

When I came into the kitchen one day, I saw my mom’s hand trembling as she hung up the telephone. I asked what was wrong. She choked up as she said, “They have to take the baby.”

Heather had developed a condition called toxemia pre-eclempsia.

Though I’m sure the medical professionals in the room could do a better job explaining it than I can, I think the easiest way to think of toxemia is to think of the mother’s body as having a severe allergic reaction to the baby.

It is life-threatening, and the only cure is to have the baby.

Either the baby is born or the mother dies.

Given that Heather was still 3 months away from full term, the baby’s lungs were likely not yet fully developed, so delivering the baby now would likely result in death or long-term damage to the baby.

Every day they could prolong the pregnancy increased the baby’s chances of survival. But every hour they waited came at considerable risk and suffering to the mother.

Try to imagine Heather laying in an intensive care unit with 2 IV pumps in each arm and a tube in each arm drawing blood once every hour. She was on medication to slow the effects of toxemia, but the drug had the side effect of what she described as making it feel like her blood was on fire.

For 48 hours, she laid there, each of her organs slowing shutting down.

Her face and the rest of her body for that matter was swollen

The only thing she could consume was ice or water

She tried to sleep and she tried not to cry, but failed on both counts

She later said, “I didn’t just think I was going to die. I wished I was dead.”

Of course, it was the thought of preserving her son’s life that made her push on.

She was holding on for dear life—not for her own, but for her son’s.

Let me take you now from that intensive care unit, to a scene from the New Testament called the Last Supper. You’re familiar with it—it’s the final meal the Savior has with his disciples before his suffering in the Garden of Gethsemane, his betrayal and crucifixion.

At that Supper, the Savior knew of the terrible things that lay ahead of him.

In his love, He wanted to warn His disciples and to let them know that even though terrible things would happen, in the end, all would be well.

He tried to explain it to them, but they just weren’t understanding.

After all, no one had ever been through what he was about to go through.

So the Savior used an analogy He knew they could understand.

Now think of the Garden and the Cross as you hear His words. He said:

“A woman when she is in travail [a term for child labor] hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world. [John 16:21]”

In other words, the sorrow and suffering and travail is swallowed up in the joy of bringing about new life. A few hours later, Christ took upon Himself my sins and yours. He suffered for every sin, every pain, every sickness, every affliction that you and me and everyone else who ever has or ever will live has suffered. He plead to His Father, asking that if it could be taken away. But it could not. So He held on for dear life—not for His own, of course, but for yours and for mine.

Heather was unconscious when little baby Joseph was born, but he cried as loud as his little 1 pound 15 ounce body could muster.

As part of his graduation from kindergarten, Joseph and his class invited their mothers in for a special program. When Heather walked in, Joseph pointed and her and giggled. Though he is usually shy about singing in public places like church, on this day he beamed and sang his little heart out.

“A woman when she is in travail hath sorrow, because her hour is come: but as soon as she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more the anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world. [John 16:21]”

If you want to understand Christ’s love and sacrifice for us, look at a mother’s love and sacrifice for her children. Because that’s probably the closest thing we’ve got.

Lullaby

Babysitting for my sister, couldn't get my niece to stop crying, tried everything

I started to clumsily sing her a lullaby

Hoping my singing would be bad enough it would distract her away from whatever was bothering her

I didn’t even think about what I would sing, I just started singing what my mom always sang to me:

I love you, little Pauly. 

I love you, little boy. 

I love you, little Pauly,

Cause you bring me so much joy.

I love you in the morning,

And in the night time too,

And I'll love you, little Pauly,

For all your whole life through.

I was surprised I could remember all the words. 

It struck me that hearing this song is probably my first memory on earth.

I thought about my mother singing this to me as a baby. 

“I love you little Pauly, cause you bring me so much joy.”

What had I done to deserve her love?  I was just a baby!

Had I ever helped her with the dishes, or taken out the trash?

Had I ever brought home a good report card, or earned any merit badges?

Had I ever served in a calling, or even so much as said a prayer?

No!  All I ever did was eat, sleep, soil myself, and repeat.

Maybe, if she was lucky, she could get a smile out of me.

But I guess that's all I had to do to bring her what she described as "so much joy"

She loved me anyway, no matter what.

Why? Because I am her child, and because that’s the way mothers are.

President David O. McKay: "The mother's image is the first that stamps itself on the unwritten page of the young child's mind. It is her caress that first awakens a sense of security; her kiss, the first realization of affection; her sympathy and tenderness, the first assurance that there is love in the world…She who rears successfully a family of healthy, beautiful sons and daughters…deserves the highest honor that man can give, and the choicest blessings of God.”

Isn’t it ironic that it is often these very same mothers, these women who love so unconditionally, sometimes feel that they must be beautiful, or thin or smart or make quilts, or 100 other things in order to earn Heavenly Father’s love.

We don’t need any of those things for God to love us.

Yes, He is pleased and proud as we take steps to come closer to Him, and he desires for us to grow and progress

But, mothers, He loves you always, no matter what—right down to the every last inadequacy you think you have.

Why? Because you are His child, and because that’s the way God is.

Interestingly, God has sometimes used “mother”  verbs to describe himself.

Isaiah 46:3-4:

3 Hearken unto me, O house of Jacob, and all the remnant of the house of Israel, which are borne by me from the belly, which are carried from the womb:

4 And even to your old age I am he; and even to [gray] hairs will I carry you: I have made, and I will bear; even I will carry, and will deliver you.

And a few chapters later, 

Isaiah 53:4

Surely he hath bourne our griefs, and carried our sorrows…

What does that mean anyway? Well, I remember the email from my older sister after she took her baby to the doctor to get her first shot.  The doctor wasn't sure who cried louder, the baby or the mother.

If you want to understand the Lord’s unconditional love and empathy for us, look at the unconditional love and empathy of a mother for her children.

Because that’s probably the next closest thing we’ve got.

Closing

No, I’ve never been a mother, and I never will be. But sometimes just being around those of you who are brings me closer to God.

To the mothers here today, we set aside this one day every year to honor you

To be frank, I feel like that is a pretty meager offering.

But God--that God who knows when every sparrow falls,

--the God who said “even the very hairs of your head are numbered unto Him.”

God knows you. And He honors you.

He honors you by giving you His work.

There is no question that bringing to pass the immortality and eternal life of man is work—and it’s hard work! Maybe the hardest work there is! I could barely make it 28 hours!

But on this Mother’s Day I ask you to please never forget that His work is also His glory. In giving you His work, God glorifies you. (See Moses 1:39)

“Motherhood is near to divinity,” the First Presidency has taught us. “It is the highest, holiest service to be assumed by mankind. It places her who honors its holy calling and service next to the angels.”

So if you want to see an angel, look around the room at the mothers here today.

Because they’re probably the closest thing we’ve got.

In the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

Lyndon's hard work

Lyndon did research last summer regarding post operation questions...or rather what types of answers should doctors give to patients who have just had surgery. The survey he developed is for doctors-asking them if they asks such question...follow? I'm probably missing some details here that make it sound cooler than I'm giving him credit for. But he put his hours in for this and it has now paid off. His little "button" if you will- is the one that says, "please take this 8 question survey" and has a check mark by it. You have to be registered to actually see it, and a Doctor too. But you can just imagine.