Primary songs: I just love em!

For the last couple weeks, after we lost our AMAZING music chorister 
I've been filling in and doing the music in primary.

I love the primary songs. 

They are so powerful. 
So pure and simple. 
Eternal doctrines are set forth, carried into the hearts of our little ones by the beautiful melodies, nestled in their minds, ready to be recalled by the Spirit in time of need, 
or strength or comfort. 

Primary songs have been and integral part of my own conversion and I am continually grateful for their influence on my life and that of my family. (For those less familiar with these beautiful songs, I've provided links with lyrics as well as the option to listen to children's voices singing them)

I remember walking to my first day of university, so nervous, feeling so insignificant in what was the largest crowd I'd ever been a part of. I remember envisioning the Lord's hand in my and singing in my mind "Heavenly Father are you really there?" And knowing He was, knowing He knew me personally even if my professors would not.

I remember, as an EFY councillor singing the words "We will be the Lord's missionaries"and knowing that very moment that I should serve a mission, a decision I'm grateful for everyday.

I remember driving to the temple on my wedding day, singing "Teach me to walk in the light of His love" and "I will follow God's plan for me" knowing the I was on His path and feeling His love as I took this step towards the plan He had for me.

The primary songs served as my repertoire of lullabies and I have rocked my babies to sleep humming "Jesus once was a little child" and reassuring their little spirits, so fresh from heaven's realms, that they were still "a Child of God", that He had sent them here dn given them this home, and that I was determined to be the kind of parent the Lord intended them to have.

I remember one particularly challenging night. I had already been up for hours with Aaron, when baby Levi awoke, needing more from his already depleted mother. I was exhausted, from more than one night of this routine, and when I get over-tired, my brain goes into overdrive and I'd started contemplated all of my perceived struggles now and in the future. I was slowly giving way to thoughts and feelings that told me, I just couldn't do this, that it was just too hard. Just as I started to get completely overwhelmed, I started singing "He sent His Son" I thought, to help settle my fussy baby. Instead I was the one calmed, and soothed by the simple lyrics, testifying of the Saviour and all He has done for us. When I sang the closing line, "What does the Father ask of us? What do the scriptures say?
Have faith, have hope, live like his Son, 
help others on their way." It was so clear. This was what the Lord required of me, all He required, and He would  help me.

Now I lay with my "big boy" Levi and we sing together every night, 
"Lead me, guide me, Walk beside me."

I smile when I hear McKye beating his drum in the playroom drums to a rather rocking version of  "We have been taught and we understand, that we must do as the Lord commands!" 

I feel so good about Ben wanting both of us to lay with Aaron each night and let him pick songs from the singalong App, for us to sing to him while we cuddle and he watches the little ball bounce on the words, he may not sing, but he still can feel.

And I chuckle every time I'm trying to get my rambunctious  boys to be obedient by singing "I will go! I will do!" complete with muscles poses to represent spiritual strength (and appeal to their testosterone ;) 

I'm pretty sure there is nothing that brings me as much joy or hope as hearing my children singing primary songs.

Yesterday in Senior Primary, I asked the children to tell me which songs really helped them feel the Spirit. As we sang each of them and talked about how thy made us feel and what truths each taught,  we enjoyed a sweet but powerful Spirit.

Love was Spoken Here was one a few children mentioned. 

1. (Girls) I see my mother kneeling with our family each day. 
I hear the words she whispers as she bows her head to pray. 
Her plea to the Father quiets all my fears, 
And I am thankful love is spoken here. 
2. (Boys) Mine is a home where ev'ry hour is blessed by 
The strength of priesthood pow'r, 
With father and mother leading the way, 
Teaching me how to trust and obey; 
And the things they teach are crystal clear, 
For love is spoken here. 
[3rd ending] I can often feel the Savior near 

When love is spoken here.

This morning on my walk, I listened to the mormon-tabernacle choir sing this beautiful song.  And was inspired all over again.

I was impressed with how it's musical arrangement into parts is very much like the roles of mother and father. Distinct, each with a different melody and feel, 
 but together, that much more powerful as the harmonies combine and highlight one another.




I want my children to "see their mother kneeling" to have their fears quieted by my faithful whispers to my Lord I love. 

I want our home to be blessed every hour by the Lord's power.  I want to lead with Ben in united, loving ways that make our commitment to the Lord evident, even "crystal clear" so there can be no doubt that we trust and love the Lord and that they can too.

I want to feel the Saviour near-- often.
And singing beautiful primary songs sure helps. 

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.

Tired but Trying

So no matter how much I try to put on something cute, and do my make up (even shower!), at least two people every week at church tell me I look tired.

I know they are trying to be sympathetic and maybe are just assuming I'm tired as I rush about like a lunitic trying to keep primary from crumbling before my eyes, carrying at least 2 bags, a couple of binders, and usually a kid (but where are my keys???) And forgetting something at the church, EVERY week, with out fail! Every week. Yup, they assume right. I'm tired.

I just thought I was better at hiding it?  Apparently I'm not.

I try and be more organized, more color coded, more typed out scheduled, and it always seems to be all for naught, and there I am again flying by the seat of my pants, trying to make it work.

But I've decided this calling is not so much about me learning to be more organized (let's face it, their are just a lot of other peopel more talented in that department and it ain't me!) as it is about me humbling myself and learning to rely on the Lord. Not my well planned sharing time or my good intentioned emailed plans. Planning and preparing are important, don't get me wrong. But so are praying and relying--which I need to do more of both. I also need to be humble enough to stop expecting that if I'll just work hard enough, things will go perfectly. Because what they heck is "perfect" in primary???

Perfection comes from the unexpected, and unimaginable things the kids say and do and the unimaginable spirit you feel in the midst of it all. I need to realize even if I am incapable of "staying on top" of "things", it's okay. It's just fine. It might even be better.

I think I'm just tired of feeling dumb. Making mistakes and blunders, I'm certain other primary presidents NEVER make. (Even the ones about to have their sixth baby that make it look so easy...cough cough Amy!)

Like getting up early and doing primary stuff for 3 hours before 9am church, only to get there and realize I missed ward council. And having my sweet visiting teaching companion catch my eye (As I try desperately to "hold it together").

"You look tired." she said it so empathetically, so kindly that I dropped down beside her and starting crying, practically in her lap. She wrote me a nice note that week. It made me cry too.

Crying releases stress hormones, so that's good right.

I cry a lot at church. I worry that's all the primary will remember. 
"Sister Bretzke? Hmmm. Oh ya! She's the one that cried all the time!"

We sang "Because I have Been Given Much" today, and one of the lines started off the tears that would flow freely through out church today. "I shall divide my gifts from thee, with every brother that I see, who has the need of help from me"

I thought about how divided I often feel, pulled by responsibilities, feeling the pull to minister more personally to the children. Pulled by my own children, not only at home, but at church-- Aaron asking me to pick him up while I try to conduct, McKye following suit and clinging to my legs while I try and teach, all the rest of the primary kids eyes looking up at me, all asking for and needing a primary that will prepare them for the intense world they live in. Divided focus. Divided time. 
But the song made me feel like I was giving myself, giving what I'd been given. 
Love. Testimony. Encouragement. Divvying it up as needed. 

And I'm so grateful for those who give too me. The tired, crying primary president.

The wonderful, seasoned primary workers, who caught me after church to say, "It'll all work out. It never feels like it will, but believe me I've been through a LOT of primary presentations, and they ALWAYS work out."

And I know it will. 
Because those blessed,
spirit inducing, 
soul calming, 
bravery giving 
primary songs tell me it will!

They remind me that I just have to try. And I really am trying.

I'm trying to be like Jesus... I'm learning to love as He did.
I'm trying to be a good leader in Primary and I'm learning how as I go. 

And He's right there with me.  Reminding. Whispering. Smiling.
 Just like we do to with the kids.

I am a child of God after all. Still learning. Trying. Crying. 

And just like our kids, sometimes, I'm just tired. 

Our invites. Aren't they cute??? Ya, I didn't make them.

Back to the lambs

I need a new journal. Funny how my journals always tend to run out of pages just as changes come along in life. (Maybe I should start buying thicker journals!!!)

But for now I guess it'll go here...

I'd been home from my girl's weekend less than 15 minutes when my Ben told me the Bishop was coming over.

As I (quickly) tidied the kitchen, I wondered what Ben's new calling would be. After all I'd finally reached that point in my calling where I felt like I kinda knew what I was doing--that I'd "settled"in.
I should have known. 


Instead, as I glanced up at my reflection in our darkened kitchen window, the Spirit told me.

When the Bishop confirmed it, I had one of those flash before you eyes moments (no I wasn't dying, though I could have been in a little bit of shock). In each flash, I saw all these subtle ways the Lord had been hinting--no, preparing me.

Little conversations with friends currently serving in primary who shared their love of their callings. Who spoke of their time there as a privilege and their responsibilities as joyous...who just couldn't imagine a better place to be, then feeling the Spirit with the purest of our Father's children.


Random reunions with women who had lead and taught me in my first experiences with Primary. Sisters of energy, of faith, who absolutely shone with love. I'll never forget how the one president I worked with (who just happened to have an autistic son, and who was one of the first people I wanted to talk to when Aaron was diagnosed because I knew she'd say everything I needed to hear, and she did) applied the principle taught in D& C 89 to primary, by "[adapting] to the capacity of the weak and the weakest" of the children. Who was  so open to trying new things, and adjusting to the needs of the kids, regardless of what was typical done. Who served with such delight. And such enthusiasm--it made everyone else want to give a thousand percent too! Who told me, I was important, that what I was doing made a different and was contributing to the foundation of faith in these individual children's lives and the church as a whole. Who complimented me, and thanked me, who encouraged me to put forth my very best efforts and never give into the temptation to get too confortable or "wing it". But to prepare--not just great visuals or fun activities, but to prepare spiritually, to prepare my mind, my heart and my life so I could teach and testify with power.

Gratitude for the amazing teachers who have served my children in primary. Patient nursery leaders who have pried my crying toddlers from my arms and let them cling to them while they rock and wait for the toys and activities to induce them out of their trepidation. Is there anything you're more grateful for than a nursery leader that convinces your child to stay in nursery so you can (after a year and a half of hiding in the mother's lounge and pacing the halls) finally sit through a sunday school class and a relief society lesson??? I have deep respect for good nursery workers.




And then there's those who have helped Aaron.  I recently read this quote from Pres Eyring:

Many bishops in the Church are inspired to call the strongest people in the ward to serve individual children in the Primary. They realize that if the children are strengthened with faith and testimony, they will be less likely to need rescue as teenagers. They realize that a strong spiritual foundation can make the difference for a lifetime.

Oh when I read that line phrase individual children! Instantly I saw the many wonderful brethren who have sat in primary letting Aaron sit on their knee, play with their beards, and hug them to pieces. Could there be a more Christlike calling? Then to minister to one little special boy, week after week? Their kindness and patience for our different little lamb, who some days just needs to lay on the floor, or wants to watch the drinking fountain for half of class, or gets super squealing during music time or erupts into a fit of laughter right before a prayer, has made all the difference. They have been ministering angels not just to Aaron but to our family. They have helped us make church a "doable" thing, when I remember days I would be holding Aaron in some secluded corner of the church, sobbing and thinking I might never get to really "attend" church ever again, being tempted for the first time in my life with the thought that maybe it wasn't worth it. But inspired leaders were inspired to call great people who took my boy...took him to primary, and helped him belong, and made sure I knew they were happy to do so. Happy to help in what I will always consider a miracle.

Forgotten memories of beautiful spiritual experiences I've shared with sunbeams. Miracles, I'd given up on asking for, but that were nevertheless brought to pass by the inspiring faith of one little boy who told me he was gonna pray for my son, with such ferver in his face that I was chastised instantly for my own disbelief.

That is something primary constantly does for me. It shows me the power of putting away all the doubt and fear and "grown-up" approaches to the gospel, so often diluted by our own biases and pride...and instead see and use the faith of a child.

I remember one little boy, he was attending our ward with his foster family. He'd only been coming a few months. Everything about church--the gospel, the Saviour--was brand new to him.

We'd been preparing for the primary presentation and I was asking the kids if they remembered who we were practicing to sing their songs to (expecting them to say their parents) This little boy looked up at me and with such excitement on his face asked, "Jesus?!?!?"

Of course! Why wouldn't he think Jesus would come listen to him sing? We'd been talking about Him, how much He loves us all. It made prefect sense, to this little boy that Jesus would show up!

And as I realized how real the Saviour was to this boy who had only been taught about Him for a few months, I knew I need to remind myself that He IS that real.

And if He did show up next Sunday...He's head to the primary room!

I love feeling the Spirit of the simplicity of the gospel, as it is taught to the believing hearts of children.


I remember, when we moved and how with a new baby on the way I was feeling a little relieved about saying good bye to my calling, as wonderful as it had been. But then sitting in the bishops office and watching as our our whole presidency was unexpectedly released. Watching my president crying because she loved serving so much. She was called right back in as a primary worker teacher. Had I not served with her and learned not only how to organize and delegate and "run" things effectively but how to make all our efforts spiritual endevers. She had the spirit of her calling directing her, helping her know what to focus on and what to let go, and always in all the administrating, never forgetting to bethinking and serving "the one".

Remember all these things, while I sat there in shock on my couch, nodding at the Bishop, helped me feel that the call had come from the Lord, who had both prepared me and would remain with me.
So it would be okay.




I went into GO mode after being called and tackled my RS binder to get it all cleaned out for the "hand off". I was just changing out the front conver picture when Ben walked in and said "Wow, you transition fast!"

And I looked at these two picture and thought, it's all just love.

I thought about the women I'd tried to know and serve and care about and welcome and pray for and unite with. I thought about how much I loved them.







I thought about all my new little lambs. (Have you seen the Seminary video about trying to save the lambs!?!) I thought about my own three little rambunctious sheep. Each so unique. I thought about the worry, about the hopes, about all th feelings of a mother's heart.
I thought abotu how much I already loved the mother sheep in our ward. How I know the constant worry of their hearts. How I've sat and talked with many of them as they've talked about their kids, with the fever of love only a mother heart can emote.

And I realized, I may be taking out this picture, but I'm still serving those mother's! I was filled with desire and determination to be the sister serving in primary that you hope your child will have. That when you prayer for help and support and for your child to "turn out"... I wanted to be part, however small, of what the Lord gave as the "answer".

Parts of this calling terrify me. But knowing that the Bishop sees that absolute chaos of our Bretzke bench at church every week, that surely would not make him or anyone else think, "Huh, see that lady who seems to have no control whatsoever over her kids??? bet she'd make a great primary president!"


Nope, the Lord knows my heart. He knows my many weaknesses as well, and blessed me with an incredible presidency to fill in my many gaps. I know the only reason I'm not paralyzed by my inadequacies is because I know I have them to lean on and rely heavily upon on their many amazing strengths.

Im gratful for callings and how they take us beyond our perceived limitations into areas were we can't "do it alone". Our service is perfectly orchastrated to help us rely on the Lord. Our Good Shepherd.

I gave a primary training once using Ezekiel 34 where the Lord talks to the shepherds in Israel. I'll never forget looking into those wonderful primary teachers eyes and saying, 
"We have the lambs." 
So young. So fragile. So eager for nourishment. So needing the protection and love of the fold.

So needing to be brought to and held by the arms of our Saviour, who knows His Sheep.
Individually. Perfectly.





I pray I can share my love for the Saviour with the little lambs in our little primary fold, because I truly do love Him and am grateful for His constant shepherding over me.