Basketball

Apparently having a bunch of things I really, REALLY need to do around the house, means I'm finally getting around to blogging some things I've been meaning to forever. 

Nothing like procrastination of one task to inspire the completion of another.

Around the same time I was taking my photo class from the amazing Rhonda Steed, my boys were finishing up their first season of basketball. One of the (many) reasons I wanted to learn to use my camera better was for poorly lit gymnasiums and fast moving kiddos, so this was a perfect opportunity to practice both!  

So I was that crazy mom, who embarrassed my kids trompsing all over the court snapping photos. It was fun and sure made it go by faster (I love playing sports, but I'm not sure I'll make the best sports mom!) They may not have the NBA in their future...but they sure looked cute trying their best!

Glad I listened

It'll be way easier not to take him.
Take him, the Spirit urged.

He hasn't seen his dad all day, let them play, I justified.

Take him, was still the direction.

I was already stressed about my talk I wasn't totally sure about yet.
I should just go to the baptism by myself...they'll be others he can come to.

Take him to this one. 

Maybe because I'd been preparing a talk on the Holy Ghost all afternoon, I actually listened.

On the way to the church, as I tried to think about my talk, the Spirit kept assuring me it would be fine and directing my attention to my son, happily strapped in his carseat on the way to the "big church" that's "rea-wee far away"  (10 minutes instead of 2).

Help them feel and recognize the Spirit. 
Promise them blessings.

So much of of the things I learned as a missionary apply so directly to helping my children learn and be converted to the gospel of Christ.

"McKye?"

"Yeah mom?"

"Ya, know, I bet if you paid real close attention to how you feel during the baptism, I bet you could feel the Holy Ghost?"

I love attending baptisms. So simple. So powerful. Watching a son or daughter of God commit themselves to follow the Saviour.

The woman being baptized has a little boy too.  He sat right up front almost at the very edge of the font, and she looked right at him until she went down under the water. I could tell part of her determination to change her life had come from wanting her son to find the lasting  joy and immense peace promised to those who embark on the path of discipleship.
She told me later he can't wait to get baptized.

I was so touched by their interaction I almost missed McKye's reaction.
I looked down just in time to see it.
When McKye smiles, really smiles, you can see it all the way to his ears,
and that's just what he did.
The moment she came back up, dripping and smiling, an involuntary grin burst across his face and from my vantage point, holding him on my lap, I saw his little temples expand out to make room for the sudden swell of happiness.

As I carried him back to our seats, he whispered in my ear,
"That was weally cool!"

My talk went fine, threw most of my preparation out the window and just tried to help everyone recognize the Spirit we'd felt.

The Spirit my four year old son had felt.

How grateful I am for the Holy Ghost in my life.
For it's fruits of joy and peace and love. (Gal 5:22)

I'll always remember a man we taught on my mission, who, a few weeks after his baptism during a lesson on the Holy Ghost, had looked at me and my companion and said, "I didn't realize what a difference it would make."

That constant companionship, that influence that urges us to our best selves
and inspires us to  serve others.
That prompts me to repent and change, to say sorry and to forgive.
That testifies of truth and confirms pondered and prayed over questions and offers moments of clarity to be remembered when one needs the courage to carry through with revelation received. That heals and helps and comforts. "As the soothing voice of a loving parent can quiet a crying child, the whisperings of the Spirit can calm your fears, hush the nagging worries of your life, and comfort you when you grieve."(True to the Faith, pg 82).
Such wonderful comfort. And always hope.
The Spirit that, according to Elder Parley P. Pratt, "inspires, develops, cultivates and matures all the fine-toned sympathies, joys, tastes, kindred feelings and affections of our nature. [That] inspires virtue, kindness, goodness, tenderness, gentleness and charity."
That to a primary child "feels like sunshine" and
that to me, makes me feel that I am not alone. That I am truly loved.


The Spirit that I pray to be with me every day
so I can do and be what the Lord would have me do and be.
The Spirit that I too often push aside.

The Spirit that told me to take McKye to the baptism.
The Spirit that made him smile.

The Spirit that will hopefully help him always remember how "weally cool" he felt.

I don't wanna

"I don't want to go to church!" was last week's soundtrack to our Sabbath Day preparations. 

McKye's whine--he's spent the entire four years of his life perfecting-- punctuated the hair-combing and teeth-brushing, drowning out the hymns I'd put on to play in the background. to get our family in a spiritual mood. "Scatter sunshine" ended up more ironic than inspiring. 

I look at his little furrowed brow and his pouty lips and try to pull out of my tired- mommy- brain all the best ways to handle  "don't want to"s: 

Somethings I can just force, becoming the drill sergeant barking demands, or with a "too bad, I'm the mom" pick up and lug approach. Other times I can just let go and just give in the happy barefoot hippy mamma, chanting freedom and creativity mantras. And then there's always the endless negotiation tactics, which I'm pretty sure my kids could give lessons to hardened terrorist on getting their way. Yup there are many different approaches to "I don't wanna"s and my kids see them all regularly depending on my day and my resulting mood. But maybe it was those darn hymns playing in the background but this morning, I remember this one matters.

I don't care if my kids become doctors, I don't care what sports they choose (though I joke that they're only aloud to play sports where shoes are the only equipment), don't care if they play an instrument (though dad might push that one). Most days I don't care if McKye wants to wear his beloved orange golf shirt AGAIN, or that Levi can't touch a bowl without spilling it, or that Aaron is naked on the trampoline in the dead of winter. I've gotten pretty good at telling myself not to care. Gotta save the energy for the things that I DO care about.
Like my kids going to church. Because I definitely care if my kids grow up loving the Lord.

McKye tapped into that early on. Before he could even unprompted tell me he loved me, he would, if he felt particular happy with me at the time and wanted to reinforce my good mommy behaviour, would look at me and with a big smile say, "Mommy? I WUV JESUS!" And if he was upset with me? "Mommy! I no want Jesus." Somehow he knew that was the core of his mamma, her soft spot, the button to push to leave a mark. And he's was dead on. For my kids to believe and live the gospel of Christ is my greatest desire and truly matters more to me than anything, just as the thought that they might reject the gospel that infuses everything I am and hope to be, is easily my greatest fear.

So last Sunday morning I tuned out the "I don't wannas" and the inner fears they taunted inside me, and somehow manage to get him into some church clothes and carry him to his carseat where we hold our "traditional family prayer in the van" while we drive the block to church. 

On that same street, on our returning drive,  the Spirit whispered "Look!"

I turned around and saw that same son, that only hours before had fought me so hard, smiling from adorably large ear to adorably large ear. 
His little fingers wrapped happily around his cardboard cut out Choose the Right shield. 

The truth is, McKye loves church. 

He loves sitting on the bench and pointing out every week "Sister Nalder!" his heaven-sent primary teacher. He loves, whispering in my ear "My friend!"  because he can't keep the twin boys straight that come and played with him on the tramp, but he recognizes them as they pass the sacrament. He loves when they sing the children's songs we sing as home, mystified that all the other kids know Jesus wants me for a sunbeam too! 

He gave the scripture this week. He lisped his way through the scriptural language:
 "da Spirit  itself beareth witness wif our spirits that we are the children of God!" 
practically shouting the last phrase into the microphone. 

His unique and youthful Spirit along with The Holy Spirit. 
Coming together witnessing eternal truth. 
Learning. Feeling. Coming to know. I am a Child of God! Me!

I love this year's theme. I am a Child of God. Simple. Powerful. 
What more important truth could we teach to these children than that they indeed have a Father in Heaven who knows and loves them more than anything. 
The foundation of everything else. 

As I looked at him smiling, telling his dad about fishing during singing time, I thought, McKye doesn't just love church, He already loves the Lord. In the pure,  "of course I do" way a child loves a parent... just because. I'm yours. Your mine. End of story. 

I thought about how reluctant we are sometimes are to do the things we know we should-- read our scriptures, engage in meaningful prayer, attend the temple, or really take the time to love, and serve others. 
Do we whine thinking the "rockbands" of our lives might be more fun than "going to church"?
Do we get fooled into thinking the the effort of "getting our church clothes on" is just too much hassel and might not be worth it? 

But it always is. 





When we are on the Lord's errand, doing his work, even when it is hard and they're are disappointments along the way, eventually our soul will smile from ear to ear.

Sometimes preparing another sharing time feels like one more thing, but then I get infront of those kids (who maybe told their mom they didn't want to go to church today) and I get to feel the Spirit as I testify that they have a Heavenly Father who knows each of their names and loves them all so tremendously! I get to follow the Spirit and watch little miracles take place in our little primary. I get to look into little faces and see them feeling the Spirit and know that dispite crumpled ties and mismatched socks they are right where they need to be. 

And so am I. 

Even though McKye is obsessed with using the urinals and so we always seem to end up in the hall during the sacrament, I get to see his little fingers grab the bread and his little lips slurp the water and know that one day it will be more than a mid-meeting snack. 
That one day it will be a profound symbol of the covenants he's made with his personal Saviour. That one day because we rangled them to church--when it certainly could have been easier just to stay home-- they will bring their own little infants and pace the halls through what is usual nap time  and whisper into their ears "Jee-sus" as they point at paintings. They will wonder some days why they are there, and how they can possibly be getting anything out of what some days feels like a three hours gong show! But they'll have been through enough life to know church is more than cardboard cutouts and colouring scripture stories, it is a place of living water for souls that get oh so dry.

Right now I just want my kids to like church because I know one day they will NEED it.  When loss, or heartbreak, or grief, or stress, or any number of inevitable anguishes fill their grown up hearts, they will know the source of solace, they will know where to turn for peace. They will know that God has and is the answer. Every time. 

They will know, as I know, that Jesus Christ is real. That He is our Redeemer and provider of our Hope. He is our perfect Example of perfect Love. They will feel as I feel, the immense grattitude for our Savior's sacrifice and want to serve Him in any way they can and want desperatley for other's they love to to feel what they feel. 

And... they will want their kids to go to church. 

Even if and maybe even especially when at first they say they don't wanna.

Scriptures for my boys

I sat down last week to ponder my new "Word Goals" for 2013. 
But as I started to contemplate each of my sons, 
I kept thinking about a talk Pres. Eyring gave.

In it he shared how that with his own children, he prayed for revelation to know how he could help each prepare for specific opportunities to serve God. 
“And then I tried to help them visualize, hope and work for this future."

He related that he carved a board for each son with a quotation from scripture that described that son’s special gifts and an image that represented that gift.
"If you will try, with any young man," he said, "to sense his priesthood possibilities, I promise you the Lord will tell you as much as you need. The boy may have potential even beyond what the Lord will reveal to you. Help him aim high." 

President Eyring said one of his sons was so shy he wouldn’t talk to a clerk in a store. On that son’s board, President Eyring carved, “Bold as a Lion” beneath an image of a large lion’s head.

“On his mission, and in the years that followed, he fulfilled the hope in my carving,” he said. “My once-shy son preached the gospel with great conviction and faced dangers with bravery. He was magnified in his responsibilities to represent the Lord.

“That can happen for the young man you are leading. You need to build his faith that the Lord can transform him into a servant braver than the timid boy you now see." 

“Now you may be thinking, ‘Brother Eyring, are you saying that I need to learn to carve?’ The answer is no... there are many ways you can shape children’s hearts without carving wooden boards for them..The height boards I have described are only one way to help young people glimpse the grandeur God sees in them and the unique service He is preparing to give,” 

 “He will help you see how to do it for your children or for other youth. But as you prayerfully seek to glimpse this future for yourself, and then to communicate it to the young person, you will come to know that God knows and loves each of His children as individuals and sees great and unique gifts in each of them.”

I may still do my words, but as I sat pondering Pres. Eyrings incorporation of 
the Word into the dreams he had for his sons, I  couldn't help but reach for my scriptures.

At first I thought, how out of all the marvellous counsel, heavenly admonitions and celestial encouragement could I possibly pick only a verse for each of my boys, one that could encapsulate all my many hopes and dreams for them with their unique and distinct talents and gifts.

But that is the magic of the scriptures. If you need to find a scripture, those pages have a way of helping you. Every time.

Well actually the one I found for Aaron, Doctrine and Covenant 8:6-11,
 I had read a long time ago and felt that it was meant to help me see the "gift" my special son truly is. It was easy because it actually has his name in the verse!


6 Now this is not all thy gift; 
for you have another gift, which is the 
gift of Aaron; 
behold, it has told you many things;

 7 Behold, there is no other power, save the power of God, that can cause this gift of Aaron to be with you.

 8 Therefore, doubt not, for it is the gift of God; and you shall hold it in your hands, and do marvelous works; and no power shall be able to take it away out of your hands, for it is the work of God.

 9 And, therefore, whatsoever you shall ask me to tell you by that means, that will I grant unto you, and you shall have knowledge concerning it.

 10 Remember that without faith you can do nothing; therefore ask in faith. Trifle not with these things; do not ask for that which you ought not.

 11 Ask that you may know the mysteries of God, and that you may translate and receive knowledge from all those ancient records which have been hid up, that are sacred; and according to your faith shall it be done unto you.

Every time I read these verses I am granted more insight into my son and the gifts he offers our family. And me. The comforting assurance that he will be ours-- that no power or influence in this scary world will be able to draw him away from us-- but that we will hold him with us in this life and the next, as long as we strive to qualify with the help of our Saviour. So much about Aaron is about the testing and stretching of our faith. In this way this scripture speaks more to us than directly to Aaron. Ever as I typed this, the word translate jumped out at me and I thought of all that I do to help interpret Aaron's communication, all the work to understand his needs and give him access to his wants. 
In all we do for Aaron, we feel the sacredness of each and every soul, and are compelled to know that without the Lord we are nothing, that without faith we get hopelessly stuck but that with faith we can accomplish anything.



Last week as I was picking these scriptures, I also read Jodi Picoult's House Rules. It's the story of a boy with Asperger's, but the sub-story that captivated me was that of his younger brother, and the mix of emotions that his brother's disability had upon him and the way it so subtly but profoundly affected his daily life and even shaped the formation of his own self-concept. I could (and might yet) write a whole post about my own worries about this, but then I thought of how much revelation I've received about the positive effects Aaron's differences will have upon his siblings, especially McKye, my "psychologically oldest" boy. Do I worry about making sure that McKye isn't over burdened, or feels forced into sacrificing normal things for the sake of his brother? Of course. But am I also certain that any sacrifice, any hardship, any sorrow or pain will be generously compensated tenfold with blessings unmeasured? You bet! 

Planned blessings gained from heavenly orchestrated, perfectly personalized lessons, meant for each of us. As I found McKye's scripture, D & C 6:33-36, just a few pages from Aaron's,  I marvelled at the power of the Atonement to make all things work together for our good.

  33  Fear not to do good, my [son], for whatsoever ye sow, that shall ye also reap; therefore, if ye sow good ye shall also reap good for your reward.

  34 Therefore, fear not, little flock; do good; let earth and hell combine against you, for if ye are built upon my rock, they cannot prevail.

  35 Behold, I do not condemn you; go your ways and sin no more; perform with soberness the work which I have commanded you.

  36  Look unto me in every thought; doubt not, fear not.

Fear not to good. The Lord will give you everything you need (and more!) as you serve Him and His children. As a mother, I do fear the world's influence on my younger boys, and I felt that the Lord reminded me in this scripture, to just give them a sure foundation. To help them build upon Christ and then trust that no matter what rages against them, they will be able to stand.

This scripture hints at McKye's incredible strength and points to the source of that strength--his faith. A faith that he will need to dispel fear. That the battle ground that will determine his greatness, will be fought in his own mind and heart. That he will need to look unto the Lord, in every thought...and that I need to show him how.

Then there's Levi. Ah, Levi, my third son. 

For him I turned to the wise father, Alma, who also had three sons, whom he gave counsel to. Three very different sons, who all needed a different approach, some harder than others. One who struggled, one who was to lead and one who only needed 15 verses, of which I picked one-- Alma 38:2. I wonder if Shiblon was the third too.

 2 And now, my son, I trust that I shall have great joy in you, because of your steadiness and your faithfulness unto God; for as you have commenced in your youth to look to the Lord your God, even so I hope that you will continue in keeping his commandments; for blessed is he that endureth to the end.

At the end of Levi's last birthday post, I wrote about how he has a innate trust, and I thought it was significant that this scripture revealed my own sense of trust that Levi will just be a good kid. He has already shown such resilience...surviving as the youngest brother in this crazy house, with only so much to give. He gets what he needs, in such a happy independent way, that I find myself trusting him to do that in life too. He has commenced his little life as such a happy, helpful, willing spirit, I know he will continue on it that same strength of character and learn to be as obedient a disciple as he is a son. That through his steadfastness and faith he will find joy and that that will bring me joy as well. 

So my boys, there you have it. I shared these with your dad and he suggested we get them engraved on leather book covers for you. We plan on putting copies of your baby blessings and annual school blessings and then giving them to you when you receive your patriarchal blessings. A place to keep all the things God has revealed to you about who you are and what you are meant to become. 

I hope these scriptures your mother choose will inspire you to discover your gifts and remind you that you were each such a great gift to her. 
Gifts she will ever be thankful for.

"God knows our gifts. My challenge to you and to me is to pray to know the gifts we have been given, to know how to develop them, and to recognize the opportunities to serve others that God provides us. But most of all, I pray that you will be inspired to help others discover their special gifts from God to serve." (Pres. Henry B Eyring)

Dear McKye

McKye just turned 4 a few weeks ago. 

It's been a magical age. 

First of all, I'm glad he consented to go through with it-- seeing that in the months leading up to his birthday he informed us that he didn't want to turn 4 at all and would just rather stay 3. 

"No, I stay fee," he'd state, with his little end of story voice.

Now he regularly does things we've been trying to get him to do forever, and announces, "I four." like its' the most obvious, self-explanatory explanation in the world.

"I swim by myself now... I four."

"I pee standing up...I four."

"I do up my coat myself...I four."

Seems to be no end to his newly acquired four-year-old-skills!

"I good at rock band...I four."

"I like pizza now...I four." (a great relief  because who wants to go through life not liking piza.?!?!)

Right around his birthday, I thought about a letter I wrote him when he was little. Then I panicked when I couldn't find a copy of it. After booting up an old laptop that wouldn't connect to the internet, and has a broken SD slot, I ended up transferring it directly onto a hard drive--all a little bit too much effort (does the constant changing technology give anyone else intense stress concerning the preservation of our family memories??? How many VHS tapes do we keep saying we're gonna get put on DVDs, but them we realize, we hardly even use DVDs anymore!) Anyways, I told myself, you need to get that on your blog as a nice back up.

So here it is:

Dear  McKye,

I’ve felt impressed to write this letter for sometime. Now with another baby on the way, I felt even more that I needed to take the time to explain to you how much you have blessed our family. As a write this you are barely 18 months, an active happy toddler, who we have just loved getting to know. But I want you to understand this is more than a description of you as a child, because a lot of what I’d like to share has come not just from observing you in our home, but from deep and sacred spiritual impressions about who you truly are, and who you have always been—a spirit child of our Heavenly Father’s specifically chosen to come to our family at a very specific time, to serve a very specific purpose.

Many of these feelings came to me, before you were even born. The summer I was pregnant with you, we were coming to terms with your brother’s lack of development. He had been “my little buddy” for two years, and I could not imagine loving anyone more, until I heard your heart beat, and felt your little body fluttering inside me.  And then I knew that with each child, the Lord endows us with more and more love—His  love. You may have already heard me say this, but a parent’s love is different. Romantic love is powerful and has the potential to be eternal but within it there is an element of choice. I choose to continue loving your father each and everyday. But with you, with all my children, this is different. There is NO choice. I can not help but love you, with a love so intense and strong, that sometimes it is overwhelming.

My overwhelming love and hopes for Aaron were threatened as we began assessing his abilities and coming to terms with the fact that he was not developing in a typical way. Although we were already quite sure, the official diagnosis that he had autism was not made until the day I was in labour with you.

The Lord has interesting timing.

But as I said, many feelings had already come to me before that time.

Now Aaron had been an extremely difficult baby, and I admit I was scarred to undergo the type of sleep deprivation and just hard times that your brothers’ infancy had brought, but deep down I felt the Lord reassuring me that this baby—you—would be different. I thought maybe I was just hoping, until one day when I asked your father to give Aaron a blessing before one of his first formal assessments.

In that blessing your father spoke of Aaron’s brother, you-- and we were told that you were indeed being sent here for a special reason to help take care of and provide for Aaron’s needs. Even as a baby you have already started to fulfill that mission. 

Aaron needs acceptance, and in your innocent, loving way you have never looked at him as strange or different, just as Aaron your brother. You smile at him, and try and give him hugs and kisses, regardless of his reactions. You look up to him and copy him, even if his behaviors are strange.  You love him, with an unconditional love that is beautiful to watch, and that teaches us all.

It was immediately after that blessing that I went to my scriptures with a distinct impression that I was to find you a name that had to do something with being a brother (we’d picked out McKye already but were still undecided about a middle name).  I search the bible dictionary, thought of Moses and Aaron,  but a picture of Joseph Smith with his brother Hyrum kept coming into my mind.  So I googled the meaning of Hyrum.

“My brother is exalted”. 

I knew instantly that your name was to be Hyrum McKye.

In a book I read about siblings of autistic kids, there was one  study done to determine siblings understanding of their brother or sisters diagnosis.  The researchers describes:

“I asked her what autism was. Suzett sadly explained that it meant her brother “doesn’t even know what angles are.” Although I was a bit taken back by this answer. I proceeded with the interview. “Is there anything else you can tell me about autism?”Suzzett thought about it for a moment and then responded, “Yes, the angels help him anyway.”

I want you to know YOU are one of the angels sent not just to help Aaron, but to help our entire family. You can not imagine the joy we felt as we watched you learn to talk and imitate and even when you learned to mirror my “you know you shouldn’t do that” face. Every little milestone you took so easily and naturally was not lost on us. You were AMAZING! We would work with Aaron on something for months and you would just “pick it up” right away.  We were in awe.

You of course came with your own set of challenges. You had your own little will…a strong one. You could  know you weren’t suppose to do something and do it anyway, the whole time looking for our reaction! Unlike Aaron, you wanted to interact with us, and sought our attention constantly. You also wanted to interacted with other children, and I watched as you were shy or embarrassed, and feared the days of jr. high and high school, with their inevitable struggles to try and belong and feel accepted.  But with all the heartache, you will have more joy as well. You will get to serve a mission and marry. To set goals and achieve them, to make friends, and create a family.

There is something sacred I need you to remember. At times when it doesn’t feel fair, or you feel that maybe it would be easier to just have a “normal” brother so that not as much would be expected of you, remember this: Aaron chose to sacrifice for our family. There are things we, his parents and you, his siblings needed to and could ONLY learn from our association with him. Lessons and attributes that will help us return to our Heavenly Fathers presence. “You brother is exalted” but he also gave up a regular mortality so members of this family could learn what we needed, to be exalted too.

There was a book I read right after Aaron was diagnosed, called “George and Sam” about two autistic brothers, written by their mom. The last paragraph described a conversation she had with her third and only neuro-typical son. He had somehow been exposed to the concept of reincarnation and was working it through talking to his mom about it. In the end, he concluded, “that’d be alright I guess, as long as I could still have the exact same brothers.”

As I finish this, I am weeks away from having our third son.  With you we felt so certain that you would not have the same problems as your brother, this child we haven't had (or maybe just  haven't needed) the same reassurances. Regardless, there is one thing I KNOW. You are all meant to be brothers. And you McKye, my little middle child I worry about so much, you are the glue. Your fun, loving personality will always be one that keeps us together. From the moment you were born you brought a renewed sense of hope and joy, that we all needed.  I am so grateful to you for agreeing to be a part of our family, and I can’t wait to see the man you will become.

The  last thing I’d like to share with you is a song. One that I heard when you were only a few months old. To me it has always been a song about you. A voice of hope, sent at a sinking time, a voice sent to remind us, and point us home.  


Chelsea means “safe harbor”, and even though I try really hard to provide that for my children, you McKye have been my anchor all along, the hopeful voice, reminding me to point our family to our eternal home and that everything will be just fine.

Falling Slowly

I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You'll make it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing along.

Happy birthday McKye. I'm so glad you came.