Preparation takes work, thought, diligence, and organization. It is hard and made even more difficult when you have children that need attention and food and love and you can’t find a moment of peace to sort through all there is to get ready for.

There will be sun, dirt, and rocks. There will also be hunger, thirst, cuts and scrapes.

But it will be so worth it.

That is what I try to focus on.

On the time we will be able to spend as a family enjoying beautiful natural creations. For challenging our bodies to climb higher and longer and finding success in reaching the top. For gathering around in the evening and laughing and telling stories. For crashing on air mattresses and it feeling like the most luxurious bedding because you are that tired. For time spent creating memories and moments that will be cherished and loved.

One of my favorite church leaders has said, “In family relationships love is really spelled t-i-m-e, time.“

I love that. I am trying to remember that and live true to it. There is always the inner desire for more time for oneself but my deepest desire is not live a life focused solely upon myself. I want look outward. So I will prepare, not just for a camping trip, but for the opportunity of time without distractions. To shut out the noise, internet, and cell service and to see that I have more time than I realize.

This Saturday, Kyle and I will celebrate six years of marriage. We have known each other for ten years and it blows my mind to think of how much we have changed since the summer of 2005.

On a superficial level, he has expanded his palate and I have gotten loads better with money. He knows the difference between a blouse and a t-shirt and I can actually cook a delicious and nutritious meal for our family. Together we have deepened our faith and our understanding of our Heavenly Father and Savior.

Returned home from his 2-year mission to St. Louis

Kyle stretches my understanding and helps me to see life from a more merciful perspective. He loves unconditionally while building me up to believe that there is ALWAYS room for growth. With him, I feel like I can actually become the best version of myself.

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, we worship often in temples which are reserved for special and sacred ordinances such as marriage. We were married in the temple and believe that being sealed (married) in the temple provides the promise that we can be together forever, not just till death, but beyond that.

A visit to the Salt Lake Temple

In many rooms within the temple you will find mirrors on opposing walls. If you stand between the mirrors, you can see yourself and whatever else is between go on and on and on, a physical way to gain a glimpse of what eternity is.

Right after being married, we were given a moment in the sealing room together to stare into that infinite and eternal space. I stood with Kyle by my side and saw us go on forever. It was a good sight and I felt a peace and reassurance standing with him. Our love could be eternal if we let it.

                                                                 Right before and then after having a child.

Over the years I have come to notice that hard feelings can also be eternal if we choose. We decide what exists between the two mirrors of eternity. We can choose love, mercy, kindness, forgiveness, and respect or we can choose resentment, bitterness, and annoyance. What we choose is what will go on and we have to choose together.

James’ burial.

It is not always easy to do this, but it is simple. When you are angry, choose love. When you are hurt, choose forgiveness. When you are annoyed, choose respect. Choose the eternal perspective. Try to see yourself and your relationship through God’s eyes stretching into eternity. Let Him lead and guide you towards knowing how to choose love when it feels the hardest to choose.

I am grateful for six years of marriage. Six years of stretching and growing together. Six years of challenging each other to become better than before. Six years of love.

Laundry means t-shirt attacks. Waiting to strike.

I don’t want to get out of bed partially because I stayed up too late but mostly because for a moment my life seems peaceful.

This is a direct contrast with the rest of my day. Battling with a tiny attorney for more snacks, less quiet time, and the ability to ride his bike whenever requested. In addition to that, baby seems to always want to nurse right when all of these requests are made. None of these things are bad, but they tend to dominate and swallow every moment.

My life is noisy. The crying, whining, and a constant “mom…Mom…MOM!” drown out my ability to think. It blinds me of my ability to appreciate that this is the sound of life of happening. This is the sound of children learning their way.

For a home. For a bed. For food. For work. For health. For love that fills it all.

Tickles from Dad.

What was the point of moving forward? Something terrible occurred and I was powerless to stop or change it. In protest I imagined that doing nothing would show God how mad I was.

You want to ruin my life? Fine. I will waste what is left of it then.

I felt like a small child, logic and reason ceasing to make sense.

The more I held on to my tantrum however, the more out-of-control I felt. There were moments when my senses seemed beyond feeling, I was outside of my body in some dark corner. Light could touch me but I could not feel it. This need to blame God for all of my sorrow was turning into pain that multiplied.

I could not sit in the darkness and be bitter any longer. I focused upon that light and felt it once again. Felt the warmth and comfort it provided. I am speaking both of the Savior as the light of this world and of physical light. I remember sitting in my apartment at the time on the couch and just concentrating on the light hitting me. Nothing else seemed important in that moment other than letting my body feel warm.

It felt like a painstakingly slow process but eventually I figured out what keeps me away from that dark space. Prayer, studying the scriptures for perspective, time with family and friends, writing, and service were all key players. It was a choice to do something rather than nothing.

The light and warmth of the sun and of the Son have given me hope and purpose. The sun reminded me that something as simple as feeling the sun shine on your face has the power to brighten the spirit and my Savior has healed the rest.

He has helped me to live onward, trying my best to do good, to scatter sunshine! So on Saturday for the second year, I marched. I marched forward in memory of James. I marched forward thinking of this tiny life that has had immense impact not only in my life but in the lives of those around me. It has been a good thing. It is like sunshine warming my face.

Thank you to those who marched with me on Saturday for the March of Dimes. Your donations, physical presence, and texts of support brought me gratitude and joy. Thank you.