Sophie Scholl: The Final Days

Valor. Dignity. Truth. A life's mission, fulfilled.

Click here to view trailer.

Note: German (subtitled)

Perspectives

There's a major stresser around here that I have decided it would be best not to blog about. I had decided to do it and then somebody pointed out that it might not be good to draw attention to it. I've been working on handling things in a healthy emotional way. I'm trying really hard. Have you ever noticed how painful it can be to change your ways? Even going in the right direction to new behaviors that are so much better, there's pain in leaving the old behind.

At any rate, yesterday afternoon and this morning, I took my camera outside, hoping that the fresh air and beauty would get my mind on other things. I'm looking around for things that I can see from a new perspective. I've never cared much about photography, except to make sure I had pictures of my kid's important events. I still know next to nothing about it, but it appears to be an outlet for me for now, so bear with me.

A Drawing on the Glass

Yesterday, as we were getting ready to go to our friends' house in Ypsilanti, I saw this drawing on the side storm door:

Sariah's self portrait on the glass

It reminded me of something I read a few years back about Marjorie Pay Hinckley. She said that she loved the sound of the screen door slamming in the summertime. When I read that, it made me wonder. That sound has been a particular pet peeve of mine. Why is that so? How could she love the sound and I dislike it so much? I wondered if she had somehow conditioned herself to love that sound, linking it to her children that she loved. That, like me, at some point she had gritted her teeth to keep herself from scolding (I haven't always gritted my teeth, by the way!). I really don't know. But as for myself, the drawing made yesterday by Sariah signified something for me.

I remember, years ago, before I had children of my own, sitting in my car with Joseph's sister and her little daughter. As the car windows became covered with humidity from our breath, the baby was drawing pictures on the glass. Immature as I was, it bothered me. As I look back now, it's hard to imagine that I felt that way. But I did. The picture on the glass represents growth for me. My first impression, rather than thinking about yet another thing to wash, was "How cute!"

I joined this "blog carnival" called Talk About Tuesday. Check it out if you have time!

The Student and the Teacher

I have spent a lot of this fluffy, puffy white day reading a book recommended by my friend Marni called "The Read Aloud Handbook" because humpf! that snow just wasn't packable for a snowman.

I'll have to make a post later about the totally cool things I'm learning in that book, but for now, I just have to share the inspiration I got today. Most people have probably heard the Buddhist proverb that says, "When the student is ready, the teacher appears." I have found this to be so true in my life.

It takes faith to go out into the world, knowing that my questions will be answered in some form or another. Sometimes that answer comes from a person, sometimes it's in a book, sometimes it's a thought that is placed in my mind. I'm working on having the faith needed to get the answers I need and the patience to wait until the answer comes. I have tended to act rashly in the past, rather than waiting until the answer came.

I have been wanting to reduce the amount of our possessions. I want to live more simply. One of my thoughts was that we could get rid of some of our books and use our library cards more. In my reading today I found that research suggests that having a lot of books and having them spread throughout all the rooms of the house creates an environment that encourages reading in children.

So, I had hit the pause button a few weeks ago after I dreamed up this plan. I'm sure glad I did. We keep the books!

Prayer

I'm a praying person. I guess you could say I always have been. It came from the example of my parents, I'm sure, and the fact that when we go to church we pray a lot there.

My mom made sure to tell me this story of my young self often because I believe she wanted me to "remember" even if I didn't have the pictures in my mind for what happened, cementing my faith from a young age.

When I was about three years old, we had a dog, a little white poodle named Ginger. One day she became lost and hours of search did not provide the relief of our doggie being safe at home. My mom said that I came to her and asked if we could pray. I actually do have a couple of pictures in my mind from that time. I remember kneeling at my bed to pray for the return of our dog. I remember seeing her sitting on the lawn of a neighbor from my car window as we headed out for another search.

I know that when I have suggested to my own children that they pray for help, it is a test of my own faith that is different than when I pray for myself. I remember once when Nathan was preschool age. There were three or four kids in a pre-school group. Each mom took turns holding "Play school" at her house. Once during my turn, the kids and I made bird feeders from half a grapefruit rind and a mixture of peanut butter and bird seed. We threaded these with string so that they could be hung out-of-doors. We hung ours on the post in our front yard. Nathan so wanted the birds to come and visit his feeder. I knew that I couldn't make the birds come and I wanted him to have the experience of seeing birds come. I suggested to him that we pray for the birds to find the feeder. I knew that this could be a formative experience for him and that created some anxiety for me. What would I tell him if birds never came to the feeder? My questioning and anxiety were part of the process. Nathan had the faith of a little child. I had a somewhat more skeptical faith, I think due to my anxiety. Day after day we prayed and day after day no birds came. I know that God is in the heavens and that not even a sparrow falls without his notice, but for some reason the birds were not coming. We had waited about seven days. As we were getting in the car to go somewhere, I noticed a bird darting to and then from the food and excitedly reported it to Nathan. It was the only bird, to our knowledge, that ever found that food. (As I sit here now, there's a black-capped Chickadee eating suet cake!)

I have not always been a consistent pray-er. There have been big gaps in my life where I haven't prayed at all unless I was in some kind of distress. Other times I've been more consistent but focused on myself and my immediate family in my prayers. There have been situations that have seemed so hard at the time that even though a part of me wanted to, I could not seem to pray for anyone but myself, my husband and my children. But, there have been wonderful times as I have striven to change this pattern that I have broken outside that seeming wall to pray for others.

Over the past few years, I have been crocheting afghans for people outside my household. As I crochet, it helps me remember the person I'm doing it for and I pray for that person and others who may come to mind. As I give the gift, I wonder if the person receiving can feel those prayers (as it is not something I have tended to mention).

A couple of months ago, I was stunned as a seventeen year old boy got up in church and talked about how he had taken the ward list (list of all those in the congregation) and prayed over each individual on the list. He promised us all great results if we would do this. Imagine that coming from a teenager. I have not done what this boy suggested, but in my experience of reaching outside of my own tight circle, I have seen good results in my life, mostly in the department of feeling thankful for the good life I have been given.

I believe every person is given one or more spiritual gifts. I have seen people that naturally reach outside themselves regularly. I am in awe of people who give in this way. I am not blessed with that gift (though I'd love to develop it). I do, however, have a lot of faith and I know without a doubt that God answers prayers. I don't ever remember a time in my life where there was silence from God unless it was me not opening the door to his knocking!

I have also been astounded by the response of others when I have requested prayer. This was a different experience for me when I first asked others to pray for a specific need I had. I grew up feeling like I should be self-sufficient, so it was really hard to put myself out there for others to see and then ask for something from them. But, what comfort it is to know that there are people thinking of me and praying for me. Some of these experiences are too sacred to share in this blog space.

At any rate, lately I've had some prayer requests. I've had stories passed on to me through other people's blogs and e-mails. I've watched movies that deal with poverty, political unrest and war. These things combined have started to break down this shell around me and as I remember these things I stop to pray. I feel change deep in my soul. As I sit still, I feel the gratitude and power of God moving in my life.

Never hesitate to ask me to pray for you for any reason, no matter how small. I welcome the request.

And now, if you have the chance, go to this blog and say a little prayer! Here is a little family in need of prayer. The baby was born 15 weeks early to a mom with cystic fibrosis awaiting a double lung transplant.

Media Review: The Great Escape

The Movie

The Great Escape movie is perhaps my favorite movie of all time. Perhaps it is because Steve McQueen's American Airman character is as sarcastic to the German Kommandant as I have sometimes wanted to be to a few tyrannical authorities. Or, it could be that I appreciate watching a bunch of supposedly powerless men snubbing their noses at their captors. Or, it could be that
I have just watched it so many times I have been brainwashed. Who knows. I just like the movie.

The Book

Cindi brought home a book from the library entitled "The Great Escape: Nine Jews who Fled Hitler and Changed the World" by Kati Marton. It chronicles the lives of nine secular Jewish Hungarians who lived in Budapest in a golden age of tolerance and education before World War I. These nine men included the following:

1. Two photographers who first developed photography as an art form rather than as potraiture. One became the greatest war photographer yet known, and the other became an icon of texture, motion, and form.
   
2. Two director/producers who created some of the most beloved films of all time and transformed the British and American movie industries
3. Three physicists who worked under Oppenheimer to create the atomic bomb in the Manhattan project. Two of these understood that the combination of Einstein's E=mc² and Niels Bohr's atomic model implied that a nuclear chain reaction could be achieved, creating a superweapon. They recognized these implications of seemingly innocuous German experiments, alerted Albert Einstein and U.S. policymakers, resulting in the Manhattan project.
4. A famous mathematician/lobbyist who developed the ENIAC (the first electronic computer) that made possible the calculations needed to design the atomic bombs created by the Manhattan Project in the race with Germany to develop superweapons
5. One of the world's most influential political novelists.

This is really an exceptional book. It chronicles an incredibly productive time in history when a small area produced remarkable genius of many types which influenced the world in many ways, not all of them good.

One of the things that I got from this book is the drive that was instilled by (1) education, and (2) crisis. All nine of these men lived through a golden age of Budapest in which education, discovery, and creativity were seen as the point of life; but then saw a rapid descent into blaming the Jews for Hungary's problems. I saw how most of these men changed their names to erase their Jewishness, at least politically. The ethnic ties still remained strong, but the conflict that being Jewish in a time of severe repression is very clear in this book. Each of these men was tortured and driven by the experience.

Though I admire the ingenuity and tenacity of these men who survived setbacks most men would find completely disabling, I also took from this book a lesson on spirituality. These men were raised in the golden age to rely on their own intelligence, discovery, and creativity to solve any problem as clearly secular persons. The problems they faced could not be resolved simply through personal strengths. The torture could not be reasoned away, or channeled away into discovery or creativity. There is a certain powerlessness in the stricture that solutions to life's problems must come through human ingenuity. I lived this life for many years, not reasonably understanding the futility of trying to overcome intractable problems through personal exertion. As I read this book, and now as I write about it, it is so clear to me that the torture described is because of the powerlessness of man to control so many interconnected actors.

It makes me grateful to have learned (albeit the hard way) that God wants me to understand that I need Him to make life work--that intractable problems are indeed intractable to all but God who desires that I acknowledge my inability to solve my problems alone. It is good to have a Savior.

Marx indicated that religion is the opiate of the masses. I feel sorry for persons who believe that because it places an impossibly large burden on people, no matter how brilliant, courageous, or creative.

Chicken Noodle Soup (Warts and All!)

We've got several cases of a flu virus in our house this weekend. I won't go into the gory details of that, but I've washed all of the towels in the house within a 24 hour period.

I thought we might all benefit from some home-made chicken noodle soup. I also decided that I would brave the noodle making process, which up until this time has been Joseph's job. I should add that he makes the smoothest, most tender noodles that I have ever eaten! He had beginners luck, but the charm stays with him.

Noodles aren't that hard to make. Or so I thought. I mixed them, kneaded them, divided them, rolled them, cut them and left them to sit the prescribed 20 minutes before throwing them into the pot of already boiling soup. I went to the table armed with my metal spatula and to my dismay, those noodles were stuck to the table.

The recipe tells you to divide the dough into 4 equal part and roll them each out to a 12" x 12" square. These squares are then cut into noodles which are 1/4" by 2". I'm not going to do the math here, but there were hundreds of these little noodles STUCK to the table. Joseph was kind enough to try to help me out of my predicament. I laughingly said, "I bet when I get ready to throw these in the pot, they will have restuck themselves to the table." He said, "Yeah, that's why I'm turning them over after I peel them up." Boing! Lightbulb goes on in my head. Oh what silliness.

The soup turned out pretty well, despite the fact that many of the noodles were slightly chewy due to being over-cooked. It was a long process getting them into the pot.

In the midst of this, Nathan asks me if I'm going to take a picture to put in my blog. I answered no. I was a little irritated with the situation and also I felt like I was in a hurry and couldn't take the time to grab the camera to shoot a picture. Joseph said something about me not being willing to show my warts on the blog.

I got in a tiff about that one. Defensive. But now I'm remembering a comment from my friend Sue who said she thinks that I paint my life--on my blog--like a Norman Rockwell. That kind-of surprised me because:

#1 My life is NOT like that.
#2 I have anxiety when I see someone who seems to have a perfect smoothly flowing, happy life.
#3 I thought I was blogging about at least some of my warts.
#4 Warts give character! What would we laugh about otherwise?

Now I kinda wish I had a picture of all those little noodles spread around on my table with me madly working to peel them up and then re-peel them up! By the time I gave in to having the picture taken, it was too late!

Love One Another

Today as I was teaching my Primary class (Sunday school), I had a new insight. The lesson was called "I Can Be Kind" and included studying the parable of the Good Samaritan. I love teaching children about the words in the scriptures. I love stopping and telling them the meanings of words and helping them understand what's happening. I love seeing their faces light up as they understand and then asking questions and hearing their answers. After we got the story of the Samaritan under our belts, I challenged them to take their pictures home and ask their parents if they could tell the story in Family Home Evening. Great fun!

I then read another few verses that were suggested and had an a-ha! moment for myself. John 13:34-35, "A new commandment I give unto you, That ye love one another; as I have loved you, that ye also love one another. By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love on to another." I had somehow been mixed up most of my life. I had thought that people would notice me following Jesus because I didn't drink coffee, tea or alcohol. I thought people would notice me being a disciple because I tried hard to keep the Sabbath day holy. I thought that paying ten percent of my income to the church and hence to the Lord, was a sign of a disciple. I thought that refraining from gambling, swearing and instead reading the word of God and saying my prayers was proof of me being a disciple of Jesus. Don't get me wrong, I still think that all of these things are important, but for a much different reason than before.

I realized today that it is my love for others that defines my discipleship. Love, love, LOVE! I was thinking about it this afternoon after church and it occurred to me that doing those other things leaves me open to loving more. If I avoid addictive substances, avoid being an addict, I can spend my time caring for others that would have been trapped in endless self-absorption. If I keep the Sabbath day holy, I rest from the hubbub of week-day life long enough to regenerate and rest my physical body and feed myself spiritually so that I'm more open to being there for other people. If I read my scriptures and pray, I will make myself more open to knowing and understanding the word of God and hearing the Spirit, becoming prepared to serve and love others.

I know that I will struggle with this concept as I've had it mixed up for most of my life, but I'm so impressed at what I've learned today. It amazes me, truly. How many times have I read that verse (or sung the song "Love One Another"), and not understood?

"By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, if ye have love one to another." (italics added)

Do something nice for yourself!!

May has been having some sad feelings about parting with her family (especially Brigham) on a daily basis to go to school. I'm not really sure why this is happening, but we are trying to deal with it in a healthy way. May has approached me each of three nights to tell me that she has a lump in her throat and that she doesn't know why or what to do about it. I have talked to her briefly about saying a prayer to ask for comfort each night. Last night I added that she should ask Heavenly Father if He would tell her what the problem is and what would help (she didn't seem to know why she was having these feelings), but then tonight I had a little extra inspiration. I told her that I like to rub my feet with lotion and it makes me feel good. I told her that doing something nice for yourself is a good way to help with hard feelings. She went and did it apparently and came, looking uplifted, to thank me for the suggestion. Tomorrow night may be something different, but it felt good to have the loving communication with that spiritual aspect added in. I guess that's what relationships are all about.

Garage sale over!

The first day went pretty well. The second day was very slow. I made enough money to save my sanity on our trip west (I bought DVD's to keep my kids entertained while we are driving).

I was very impressed by a lady that showed up yesterday morning. She goes around garage sales buying things that can be donated to the children and adults down in the Apalachia area. I thanked her for coming, told her we had been praying that people who needed our things would find us. Turns out she had been heading to another sale and had seen our signs. I thought a little bit about how prayers are answered. I don't always keep track of the things I pray for, but prayers are always answered. Not always in the way that we think they will be.

We took the left over stuff (enough to fill up the back of our van) to a thrift store where I like to shop. The end of another chapter of our THING filled lives!

Does anybody need any canning jars?

JOSEPH: What Cindi didn't tell you about was the two threatening drunk guys who showed up on day 1. I think next time we hold a garage sale, I will take Friday off.

You hold my soul

I really like this a cappella group called Inside-Out A cappella. I put in their CD the other day called "So It Seems." There's a song on that CD with a line that says, "You hold my soul in your hand like water." I gave that line a lot of thought a some years ago in the crucible of my marriage relationship. Ideas are always easier than actual follow through, but I really tried to apply that idea.

Now later, I'm thinking about it in a little different way, applying to lots of things in life. I think it's all about balance. You can't hold on too tight or else you lose the water by squeezing it out. You have to hold on enough though so that the water doesn't seep through. It has to be done in a strong, but gentle way.

Food for thought!