Happy Birthday, Bryan!

Bryan's birthday was definitely one to remember. I don't think I will ever forget this day--not for the rest of my life. Since his birthday, my mind often reverts back to the moment before my injury and my mind wills the experience to be different--the outcome to be different. However, as I return to reality, I know that the outcome isn't different, and that my reality is what it is. This day has given a lot of growth and perspective, and I am learning to be grateful for each new step of growth.

Journal Entry: On February 9 (Bryan's birthday) I crashed while skiing and tore my ACL and partially tore my Miniscus. After I fell, I wanted so badly to keep going because it was Bryan's birthday. I kept telling him I was OK, and that I could keep skiing. He kept insisting that I looked hurt and needed to stop. In an effort to show me how hurt I was, Bryan started filming my skiing and pointing out that I was only skiing to one side. I finally listened to his protests when I felt completely out of control on the mountain. Later that day, we went to the doctor, which then resulted in many tests and finally surgery last Wednesday. Since surgery, I have continued to try to accomplish life while my family insists on me relaxing. Again, Bryan filmed me in an effort to convince me to slowdown.Slowing down isn't a thing I do well; however through this whole process, I have felt a huge sense of gratitude. I am so grateful to my Heavenly Father for all the blessings He is sending me through this experience. I am humbled at the love He is offering to me and my family--the atonement is real. As I have struggled, I have prayed for the enabling power of the atonement; my prayers have been answered through peace, through friends, and through family. I feel a great sense of gratitude to many others who I am sure are acting on His behalf. Gratitude to my family for helping in every way possible, and for trying to do everything before I have had the chance to do so. Gratitude for friends who have carried my family while I have been unable to do so. Gratitude to my extended family for coming long distances in order to help. And gratitude that my children are gaining a bit more independence as they no longer have a mom to do everything for them. This life is full of challenges. It's how we endure those challenges that makes all the difference, and although there are times I want to cry for my lack thereof... I am also praying to see the silver lining, which gives me a great sense of gratitude and it helps me endure it well. 

Journal Entry: It has now been 6 months since my accident. I am still waiting for the "thumbs up" to be able to run. I feel dormant. I feel lazy. I feel sometimes like life is passing me by while I sit on the sidelines waiting to join in. In my mind, I think of my daughter's soccer games. There are times when she is out playing the game, and then there are times when she is sitting on the sidelines anxiously waiting to be put back into the game. I feel like I am my daughter waiting to be put back into the game; however, the game keeps passing me by. If I am not careful, these thoughts can bring my soul down. They can open the door to depression. Somehow I know this in my mind, and so I begin to take part in what I can take part in--the fight against being overwhelmed by my helplessness. Some days I do well. Other days I don't. However, because I know that the Savior knows all, and has felt all--I have no doubt that He can see me through. And so, each day I wake up, I read my scriptures, and I pray for His power to continue to attend to me. President Ezra Taft Benson once said, "Some of the greatest battles will be fought within the silent chambers of your owns soul." This quote holds true for me today. I am fighting, and I am fighting hard.

Life truly is full of challenges. Right now I am unable to be the active person I want to be, but if I look closer there are things blossoming within me that creates a great feeling of gratitude. I am grateful to have so much empathy for those who struggle with physical inabilities. Had I not experienced this myself--I would have had great sympathy--but I would never feel the empathy I do now. I understand how difficult it is to feel "left out of the game of life". I understand the mental battle of continuing the fight. I understand the physical battle of becoming stronger. And I understand that setbacks can be hard. And perhaps--the greatest lesson of all--I've learned that through any trial, faith is the key. Faith to trust in God. Faith to keep going. Faith in believing in better days to come. 

Journal Entry: My knee still doesn't have extension. I am 6 months from surgery. Most people get extension at 6 weeks. I have done all that I can on my end. My knee still has pain. Great pain. I continue to fight within myself. With that being said, I know that my fight is not alone. Jesus Christ is with me. He carries me through the frustration and leaves me with hope. 

I am getting a second opinion for my knee. There is a possibility of surgery again. My mind can't go there. I won't even let it entertain that thought. I will only entertain it, if I am given no other option. For now, I will remain positive. I will keep working. And I will trust that all will be well. That's faith. And I have faith.

Skiing with my honey. My favorite activity of all time.

When Bryan and I got married, he made one request--"Please never give me 'pink heart cake' for my birthday." --he was joking (somewhat), but it seemed like an easy request. Bryan's birthday celebration had always been shared with his younger sister whose birthday was only 3 days prior to Bryan's. And thus, Bryan had had several "pink heart cakes".  When he made his request, I couldn't even imagine when "a pink heart cake" would ever be an issue. Five years later we were blessed with a little girl whose birthday just happened to be 2 days prior to Bryan's. Still, for twelve years, I always made two separate cakes. Always. Not even a question. This year, Bryan's parents visited on the 8th (one day prior to Bryan's birthday and a day after Amber's), and they brought a "pink heart cake". My intention was to give away the leftovers, and make a cake after Bryan and I went skiing the following day; however, I fell on the ski hill, and my afternoon ended up being full with doctors appointments. When evening arrived, the only cake to offer Bryan was a "pink heart cake". I was so sad. It's ridiculous to cry over a cake, but I did. I could barely walk, and yet--I cried over a cake. Bryan laughed. He didn't care. But I cared. I really really cared. The thing is: I had an expectation for myself that I had to let go, and I don't think I was ready to let it go. This past year--since my accident--I have had to put expectations aside, and be okay with whatever I simply can accomplish. It's been a long road, but a journey well worth it! I am grateful for the opportunity I have had to slow down. When I am all better--I hope to continue to carry this lesson. I hope to fill my days with the things that matter most. I hope to pay less attention to the insignificant "pink heart cake" moments, and be grateful for the blessings that surround me.

School Talent Show

 SCHOOL TALENT SHOW

When Uncle Brandon died, Amber struggled to find peace. During this trying time, Rachel Platt's "Fight Song" became somewhat of a theme in our home. Amber listened to it over and over and over again. The song spoke to her heart; it gave her determination to keep moving forward; it inspired her to hold to her faith.

As part of her fight for happiness, Amber chose to choreograph a gymnastics routine to this song in tribute to her Uncle Brandon, and then she performed it at her school's talent show. As she danced for her Uncle, a miracle occurred--it became one small step of success towards Amber's healing.

The song began with Amber speaking a tribute to her Uncle. The auditorium was silent as Amber's voice told of her fight for happiness, and then as she dedicated her dance to her Uncle. When Amber completed her first flip, there were shocked gasps throughout the auditorium and the crowd broke out in applause. Tears rolled down my cheeks--I couldn't help but be grateful that my sweet little girl was fighting for happiness, and somehow I knew she would overcome.

Amber's older sister, Hailey, played a piano piece at Brandon's funeral. She renamed the song, "Brandon's Smile", and then she often played it to reflect on her love for Brandon. In fact, I often asked her to play it when I was sad--somehow her song gave me peace. Hailey--somewhat inspired by Amber's performance in her talent show--performed her piano piece in two separate talent shows. Both of these performances became a tribute to her Uncle. 

It doesn't make a difference on "How" we fight, what makes a difference is that we choose to fight. Amber's and Hailey's fights have included their talents. It has become an expression of love for them. Somehow through their performances they have been able to communicate to themselves and to others their love for their Uncle. And in the process of communicating that love, their hearts began to heal from the pain of their loss. They will never stop missing their Uncle, but the aching is being replaced with peace.  

Superhero

A Superhero Stopped By Our House Tonight

Jake ran outside and shouted, "I'm Batman!" He quickly took on a defensive stance, and held both hands up ready for combat.

Jake is a Superhero! He isn't just a hero, because he has captured my heart (although that is nice). He is a hero, because of how he faces his challenges every day. School work doesn't come easily for Jacob, but he doesn't give up. He believes that it will all work out, and he faces each new challenge as if it will. He trusts, and then he works hard to make it happen. This kind of faith is inspiring. For Jacob, this kind of faith extends further then school work--he also has faith in God. There is no question in his mind of God's reality. Because he has such a strong testimony of the Gospel, he desires to share it with his friends. This year he has already shared a "pass along" card with a neighbor, and he has born his testimony at school. He doesn't hold any hesitations in doing these things. 

Jacob inspires me. I want to be more like Jacob. He is my SUPERHERO. I think I am writing this today, because I have a friend who I need to speak to about the Gospel. I feel it in my heart, and because of my little man's example, I am finding the courage to act!

ZEITGIEST HALF-MARATHON

I had never ran a half-marathon before. I had never trained for something so long. I know that for many a half-marathon really isn't that big of a deal; however, for me--it was a big deal. When the day of the race had finally arrived, I felt I was ready. I had trained for several months running every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. The training hadn't been easy. My feet were a mess. I had two black toenails from the constant abuse, and my foot ached from the overuse. There was a time when I had to take a break, so that my foot could somewhat heal. I prayed that whole week that I would be able to accomplish my goal--I was truly worried that my injury would ruin my ability to run the half. Bryan gave me a blessing that week. In the blessing, I was promised that I would be able to accomplish my goals. The next week I started running again. There were moments when my foot hurt, but the pain was more of an ache--nothing like the time when I decided to take a break. The morning of the race I felt anxious. I couldn't keep my nerves under control. I don't think my mind was prepared for what I was up against with this race. I knew it was going to be a tough run, but I had no idea just how tough it was going to be. The race consisted of mostly hills. Three overpasses. Someone calculated the uphill miles, and I believe it was 7 miles. The rest was downhill. I had trained on hills, but I had no understanding at how long the hills would stretch. Towards the last big climb I was barely moving one foot in front of the other when I saw my little family holding a sign that read, "There's Good, There's Better, and There's Mom". That sign was all that I needed to keep going. It gave me the extra boost. I felt their encouragement. I heard their shouts. My mind took on sense of renewal. I was determined to push through. I finished the race with the time of 2 hours and 13 minutes. I was proud of my time, but more importantly I was grateful had accomplished my goal. 

I have been impressed with several lessons from this experience. First, perseverance can make a big difference. When I finished the race, the pain in my foot came back to its original condition. The following Monday I visited my doctor's office to find that I had a stress fracture. I then wore a boot for several months to allow my foot to heal. Perseverance to train. During the race, I was overwhelmed at the height and amount of hills I was running. I mentally had to keep myself positive to stay focused on my goal. Perseverance to complete the race. Second, faith can move mountains, but in my case--move a broken foot. I believe that Heavenly Father healed me through the power of his priesthood. I do not think that I would have been able to train or to complete that race without the blessing that my husband offered on my behalf. Heavenly Father allowed me to accomplish my goals. He allowed me to persevere. Third, the power of encouragement. When I saw my family on my last big hill, it gave me an extra burst of energy that I didn't know I had. It helped me to complete the race. It gave me the encouragement to succeed. I think this is similar to life on a daily basis. When we encourage one another--we succeed. No matter our trials, we can be lifted through someone's kind words or deeds.

Margaret Nash and Liz Olson signed up at last minute, to run the race with me. I was so grateful to them!

Me, Margaret, and Liz

After my race, we got ready for family picture, and then we celebrated at KNEADER'S.

FEATHERVILLE with the JARVIS FAMILY

There is a moment in our drive to Featherville where the anticipation of our trip gets the better of us all. Just as we drop into the canyon where the lake is in view, our children inevitably ask, "Are we almost there?" For the past 6 years, Featherville has been our home away from home. This drive is not a new drive--it is a memorized drive. A drive that could be done (if at all safe) with our eyes closed. Still, no matter how many times we have driven the familiar route, the anticipation is real. Not only for my children, but for me as well. In my heart I am counting the minutes, looking at the clock, and inwardly asking "are we there yet?" Pulling into Featherville feels like coming home after a long trip. Every care or worry vanishes when we enter the serenity of the mountains. Our relationships deepen, our hearts are turned towards heaven, and we feel peace. For this trip, we were grateful we could share in the memories with good friends.

 

A tree fell in a storm. My children love exploring the huge roots, and the trunk. Here they are on top of the root base.

 

The roots of the tree.

 

We spent the afternoon swimming at the river. The older children would body float in the current while Jake spent most of his time playing on the side.

 

 

 

Body Floating

 

Rich Jarvis and Joseph Jarvis.
Body Floating.

 

When we finished playing at the river, we continued the fun at the culvert. This is Michael and Brooklyn Jarvis.

This last month (right after this trip), Featherville was threatened by a forest fire. We were told that it "was not if the fire hit, but when". My sweet little family was distraught. I found myself crying over our cabin, which caused me to question my priorities--was a worried too much about the things of the world? However, this wasn't just a cabin to me--it was much more. A thousand little memories of family gatherings have been woven into the framework of our cabin. Those memories have tied our hearts together as a family, and it was heartbreaking to think of losing our gathering place... For weeks, my sweet little family prayed for our cabin. My children prayed morning and night asking Heavenly Father to "please bless the cabin". Another week would pass, and we would anxiously await the inevitable; however, the inevitable hadn't happened, so we continued praying. One day a light rain passed through Boise. As soon as the rain began, my daughter, Hailey, hit her knees and began praying prayers of gratitude to her Father in Heaven for sending the rain. The faith of a child is an amazing thing. And although I knew that it hadn't rained in Featherville, I was touched by my daughter's faith, and I learned a lesson--I needed to pray with more faith. My prayers were prayers of hope; whereas, Hailey's prayers were prayers of complete trust and faith. She had no doubt that Heavenly Father would listen--she knew it. I believe that it was the faith of my children that saved our cabin. The winds miraculously changed directions, and the fire was no longer a threat. Our cabin is safe, and our memories will continue. I am so grateful to a loving Father in Heaven who cares enough about me and my children that He can take time for the "little" things.