The Heart Healing {Chapter 4}

This is the final chapter of my heart story - at least for now...

A week passed and life started up again full throttle. All summer we had been preparing for something new - homeschool to start in the fall. The Lord had placed this desire, this mandate so to speak, upon my heart earlier this spring and countless hours had been spent researching and planning and preparing for the start of this new adventure. 

With such a busy summer I knew I would need to rest after having the baby so I would be refreshed and revitalized when school commenced. But life rarely goes according to plan - it's a lesson I keep learning again and again. And the week I had penciled in my planner - the week Patrick had off work - I planned to rest. I had visions of snuggling my new baby boy, getting to know him, napping - just slow, gentle time easing our family into this new season.

But the "heartbreak" happened and the restful week turned into a testing week. We were exhausted, but still we plunged on - charged with the energy of what seemed a second chance at life.

So, with my heart on the mend, the children were ready and anxious to begin school, and before I knew it, we were thrown back into life. The zest of excitement in teaching my children, the magic sparkle of embarking on a learning adventure with them every day was rich and soul-satisfying. I felt I had stepped into a fairy tale. Motherhood took on new layers of depth and meaning I never before knew existed. My heart swelled with a joy so complete that I almost forgot about my heart complications.

And yet, in the midst of all this goodness, there was a nagging inside me. It was a small feeling of unease but I couldn't decipher what it was trying to tell me. Not until last weekend, when I came down with a cold, did the small feeling turn into a small voice...I needed to process the trauma I had been through. I stumbled upon Ann Voskamp's most recent blog post and the hot tears that coursed down my cheeks as I read about her daughter's recent heart surgery made me realize I hadn't journaled about my experience fully. You see, there's a danger in moving too quickly from the wake of a storm back to regular life. We need time. Time to process the lessons as we heal. Otherwise, the lessons are lost. The Master Sculptor is ever trying to shape us into beautiful works of art. But if we don't take the time to learn from our trials, our sculpting process is slowed or halted altogether. Yes, there was more to be discovered from my Peripartum Cardiomyopathy and it could only be found in the stillness.

And like He always does, the Lord provided a way for me to do just that. To my delighted suprise, my sweet grandparents called me up and offered to take my three older children for a visit to their house. They came on Tuesday, and with the flexibility of school at home, my children left with their backpacks bulging and ear-to-ear grins on their faces. I was alone with my baby and it was time to go within.

I opened my rose-gold planner-journal to a clean, smooth sheet and titled it: "Heart Pondering." For the next several hours, my pen flew across the page as the words flowed through my mind.

I started with questions: "My heart was breaking and it hurt to breathe. Why was it breaking? Why was it beating so slowly? Why was it enlarged? Why was there excess fluid around my heart and lungs?"

And as I pondered there, the answers came. Perhaps I had been packing away too much "unnecessary fluid" in the forms of criticism and judgments toward myself and others, and the ever-alluring path of perfectionism. Perhaps on a mental and emotional level, this lack of love had slowed my heart down.

On a physical level, perhaps I had asked my heart to do too much. With all good intentions, I had planned to rest during this pregnancy, but instead I increased my pace with moving to the Middle House, planning homeschool, and living out family vacations. I had over-sacrificed myself throughout the pregnancy and despite the fact that I had promised myself I would slow down and take it easy, I sped up.

And when the heart problems came, they forced me to slow down and come to a complete halt as I lay there in the emergency room feeling so close to death. All I wanted was my family. All I cared about was my family. And all I wanted was to be healed so I could go home and hold them once more. Nothing else mattered. Life felt altogether so overwhelmingly beautiful and so achingly fragile. 

And while the lessons from that fateful night were so poignant and my perspective had shifted permanently, I realized that my actions had not. Soon after the trauma I was right back to where I had started - over-sacrificing and not taking enough time for myself to rest and recharge.

I determined the lessons would not be lost on me. 

"Listen to the beat of your own heart. Listen to what it's telling you, to the rhythm it wants you to keep. Listen to the bravery of your beats -- believe that your heart is pounding together something new. This is how He made a heart to work. Listen to this and rest. The way to recover is to cover everything with grace." -Ann Voskamp

This grace? This love? It's the antidote to every heartbreak on earth. It was the love of my Savior through words of scripture. Love of my husband and love for my children that I held onto for dear life. Love of family and friends through their charitable service and those heavenly angels that are just across the veil. I was mended back together in that broken place by Love.

And now it's time to love my heart back to wholeness. I will love my Savior stronger than I ever have before. He will be my anchor and my rock. I will love myself better through the continual gift of stillness and self-compasision. I will love my family with kind words and kisses, gratitude and grace, shared memories and lots of listening. I will love my friends and my enemies with just a little bit more service, just a few more prayers in their behalf. I will love my life by leaving the "path of perfectionism" to pursue the "art of excellence."

Because in the end? Love is all that matters. Love binds up our hearts, binds us to Christ, and binds us together. Yes, it is true. Overwhelming love is the prescription to all our heart afflictions and it's this love that will keep our hearts beating strong.

The Heart Healing {Chapter 3}

Ann Voskamp described it this way:

"You must surrender to a breaking that must happen if you want any of your brokenness to heal.

"I hadn't known this or felt this -- but I have now and I cannot forget.

"And this is a harder thing -- You have to trust that the breaking of your heart will heal you into a kind of stronger."

The morning dawned bright and beautiful after that eventful night in the Emergency Room, but the pain was still there. I hoped for answers as we took our newborn son to the doctor for his 5-day old check-up.

Our little boy looked wonderful, but my doctor was concerned about me. After reviewing the cat scan from the night before, he gave me the diagnosis: Peripartum Cardiomyopathy. It's a rare form of heart failure induced by pregnancy. My symptoms of pitting edema, chest pain, stabbing back pain, and shortness of breath all checked out with the results from the scan. My heart was slightly enlarged and there was fluid around my lungs and heart. In effect, my heart was backed up with all the exertion of trying to eliminate the excess fluid. But it couldn't keep up and had subsequently slowed down. He ordered more blood tests, prescribed medication, and sent me to a bigger hospital for an echocardiogram.

And so the week progressed. Tests and more tests. More anxiety. More worry. "Even though you're in recovery, you're still in pain. This can happen. And somehow you still have to keep breathing through the ache."

But through it all my Savior was there - to lift me up and strengthen me to meet the demands. We marveled at the tender mercies He was showering upon us day after day. Tender mercies like how my case was mild - it did not result in cardiac arrest or more severe complications. Tender mercies like how Patrick was able to take a whole week off work to take care of me and the children and drive me around to all my doctor's appointments. Tender mercies like prayers and calls and texts from sweet family and friends. Tender mercies like sweet sisters from my Relief Society bringing us meals each night. After each taxing day in the hospital we would return to a warm, home-cooked meal made with love and pure, Christlike charity. Indeed, the Lord never forgets us in these dire moments of need. We need only to notice.

By the end of the week, my body was healing. I lost fifteen pounds of fluid which eased the excruciating pain in my back and chest. My heart gradually picked up its pace and returned to a normal rate. I could finally sleep because I could finally settle into my bed and get comfortable.

It seemed my heart was on the mend and I knelt, weeping, before my Maker in praise and thanksgiving. Gratitude that He had sent me early warning signs to signal something was amiss. Gratitude that I had listened. Gratitude that there was no clot and no cardiac arrest. Gratitude that my doctor had answers and treatments for my condition. Gratitude for sparing my life and most of all, gratitude for my family and the promise of eternity.

Our hearts break many times as we journey through life. I know mine has. And I don't know what you are facing in your life story right now. I don't know how your heart is breaking - may it be physically, emotionally, mentally, or spiritually. But I can promise you this. There is a purpose. And it will be sorted out in the end. And when your heart finally heals, it will be even stronger than before, because it will be stitched back together with the threads of grace by the Master Healer. 

My heart healing story? I thought it was over. I thought I was healed. But in the week to follow, I would learn even more about what it takes to mend a broken heart and how God leads us forward, ever forward, to the place He wants us to be...

To be continued...

{Chapter 4 coming soon}

The Heart Healing {Chapter 2}

I couldn't ignore it any longer - that pain in my chest. Each breath felt like a knife stabbing right in the center of my back. Perhaps most disconcerting of all was the slow thrum of my heart - as if giant hands were holding it tight and each beat was trying desperately to break free. It felt like it would drop out of my chest at any moment. Just feeling that slow, pounding drop of my heart beat after beat sent a wave of nausea over me. I don't do well when I think about blood.

The pain had been my companion since just after the birth, but it had gradually worsened over the two short days since coming home. I felt for my pulse. Could it really be ticking this slow? Lightheaded as I stood up, I carried my baby into my husband and told him my symptoms. I asked him to check my pulse. He's a physical therapist - I knew he'd know what to do.

The concern in his eyes betrayed his voice as he told me my heart rate was only 37 beats per minute.

Just the thought that my heart was not working properly sent me into a wave of panic. I remembered how the hospital monitors beeped a warning every time my vitals were checked. My heart rate was low then, but now it was even lower and physically palpable. I couldn't get my mind to think of anything else except the pain. And the ever-present nagging that something wasn't quite right.

So I tried to rest as the hours ticked by. But the pain persisted. By 11:00 that night, Patrick started worrying that my symptoms were pointing towards a possible blood clot in my lung. He consulted with his uncle, a PA, and then made a decision. "We're taking you to the Emergency Room," he said with urgent soberness.

But how could we leave when our little ones were asleep in their beds? What would we do with our baby? I thought about calling my sweet friend, but knew she has four little children of her own and I didn't want to wake her. We tried calling several kind neighbors, but to no avail. Everyone was either asleep or out of town. I contemplated calling my parents, but I knew they would have a long drive ahead of them. We were getting frantic. I mustered the courage and called my dear friend. I prayed she would answer.

Hearing her sweet voice made me choke up with relief and gratitude and all the worry spilled out as I asked her if she could come sit with our children while we were gone. There have been few times in my life when I have ever been so grateful for true friendship.

Patrick had called ahead to the hospital so they were waiting for us. I was poked and hooked up to all kinds of machines and for a few minutes I was calm knowing everything would be all right. I would soon be taken care of. But then the waiting began...waiting for blood results which came back too astronomical to be accurate...waiting for the cat scan...waiting for the second set of blood results...and the cat scan results...It was amidst all this waiting in that cold, sterile room that I think my panic attack began. Tears poured uncontrollably down my cheeks. You could have cut through the silence with a knife. The clock wouldn't move and I couldn't stop hyperventilating. And why was I so cold? They brought me a blanket but the shivering continued. Why could I not get warm? If it was a blood clot, it could be fatal. I wondered if I was going to die.

The white board on the wall, displaying the care team and treatment measures had not been erased from the previous patient. I couldn't stop staring at the words on the bottom of the board: "Going Home." I assumed this section was meant to be filled with a time of discharge, but I couldn't help wondering which "home" I would be returning to that night.

Thoughts like that only made my blood pressure skyrocket. If my health condition didn't kill me, my anxiety surely could.  I tried to think of my sweet family to get my mind off the stress, but each memory was haunting. Flashes of my children played before my eyes like scenes on a movie screen. I saw them playing and dancing, their laughter echoing through the corridors of my mind. Would I ever get to see them again? My heart sunk - in the rush of getting to the ER, I hadn't kissed their sleeping faces. What if I never had the chance to say goodbye? I called my husband over and squeezed his hand. "If something happens, will you please tell the children that I love them? I didn't get to say goodbye." We were both crying at this point.

"Everything is going to be okay. You will be fine," but his voice was shaky.

"I know," I cried, "But what if something happens? I had to ask you -- just in case."

Ann Voskamp once said, "And the people who love you, right in the midst of the aching? They will need to be brave. (Sometimes the greatest courage is to trust enough to let go.) They will need to hope that miracles can make a home right inside of broken people. They will need to believe that broken things can become new things.)"

He placed his hands on my head and gave me a blessing. I felt the peace enter the room, but my heart just wouldn't accept it. Every single thought would lead me to remember my children and each memory broke my heart in pieces wondering if I would be granted the opportunity to continue to raise them. All I wanted was to go home and play with them once more - to wrap my arms around them and hold them tighter than I ever had before.

Finally, when I felt I couldn't take it anymore, my mind caught hold of one glimmer of hope - my mother's example. I remembered back to when she had her thoracotomy - those long agonizing nights in the hospital when she nearly died. But instead of giving in to the despair, she reached over with the little strength she had, picked up her cell phone, and called her sister. She could barely talk, but she managed to ask her if she could read to her from the Book of Mormon. It was the middle of the night, but my aunt stayed up for hours, reading chapter after chapter of the scriptures. I remembered when my mom later told me this, how I felt her faith, and the power of the word of God.

And when my mind caught hold upon this thought, I knew this would be the only thing that would bring me peace - that would calm my state of panic. Days later I would find this quote for the first time and it would ring true: "The best kind of intensive care for a broken heart is to let the words of Christ intensively care for you...If you let His Word wash your wounds, let His grace caress your pain, let His Truth touch your bruises, let His hope heal your ache, you can feel a kind of resurrection on earth. His promises are more than true - they are your resuscitation."

With tears blurring my vision and threatening to overtake me, I looked to Patrick: "Would you read to me from the Book of Mormon?"

He read from 3 Nephi - when our Savior, Jesus Christ ministers to the Nephites, heals their afflictions, and blesses the children.

As I listened, I could feel the tension leave and my body relax. The beautiful words drifted through my mind and I clung to each one like a lifeline tossed out to a drowning sailor. I silently prayed that my life would be spared and that I might have the opportunity to continue to raise my three precious children and my new baby boy. I pleaded that the Lord would allow me to stay. I just wasn't ready to go Home yet.

As I prayed, I felt angels nearby and I pleaded that they would surround my sweet children as I could not be with them at this time. The calm washed over me like a gentle summer wave. I finally felt a semblance of peace. It was going to be okay.

Finally the doctor came in with the news - there was no blood clot and everything looked good. He didn't know why my heart rate was so slow or why it was hurting so badly, so he ordered a Holter monitor for me to pick up the next day - one that would track my heart.

With tears of gratitude swelling in my eyes, we walked out of the hospital that night with assuaged fears, but nagging doubts. I was ever so grateful my life had been spared, but still I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The ache was still there, the heartbeat still slow and thrumming so painfully. My body was trying to tell me something, but what I didn't know. 

But even with all the unanswered questions my perspective had shifted and light flowed into the broken cracks of my heart. I was going home and no matter what the morrow held, my Heavenly Father's mercy had rescued me on the darkest night of my life. I would never be the same.

"It's okay to let the tears come, to weep over all this pain, all this love, all this beauty, all this brokenness and the hard roads that we somehow find ourselves walking, forcing one step in front of the other...Turn to the window and wait for the sun to rise, to keep always rising. Never stop being surprised that it does, never get over the miracle that you get to see it."

 

To be continued...

{Chapter 3 coming soon}

The Heart Healing {Chapter 1}

My heart was hurting. Deep inside my chest, I felt a heavyweight pounding with each slow, strained heartbeat -- as completely confusing as it was altogether disturbing. Pressing my fingers into my wrist, I felt for my pulse.

Something was wrong.

But it hadn't started out that way.

Just three days prior I was counting minutes between contractions instead of number of heartbeats. My mother recorded the minutes on a sticky note as I talked to her on the phone, pacing my bedroom.

I wondered if I should go in to the hospital. She thought yes, but I wasn't convinced. This pain felt different than the last pregnancies, just a dull, uncomfortable ache in my abdomen that wouldn't go away.

But the odd contractions continued and I could barely walk. After a few more hours, Patrick came home from work and picked me up. It was time to go.

I told the nurses it might just be a waste of a visit, coming in when I wasn't in excruciating pain. But a check revealed that I was indeed progressing in labor so the doctor was called.

After the initial procedures and epidural, the doctor and nurses left the room, explaining that maybe in an hour I would be ready. But just fifty minutes later, I felt a plunging drop of my heart and a wave of nausea came over me. We called for the nurse and she said it was time.

The labor was more laborious this time around. Each push left me utterly drained and exhausted. But thankfully, less than twenty minutes later, and with a last-minute turning from posterior to anterior, our little baby boy made his grand entrance into this world.

He was glorious, so fresh from heaven and angelic. I held him close and I'll never forget how he curled right up, so content. This skin-to-skin contact had been recommended by the doctor, but our little one was so content, he just snuggled into me and wouldn't breathe consistently. It wasn't until after I asked the nurses to take him to check his APGAR score that he finally started to cry and turn a healthy rosy pink.

But oh the rapture I felt during our hospital stay. Everything was perfect. The instantaneous love for this precious boy came just as suddenly and powerfully as it had for his brothers and sister before him. I studied every feature of his perfect face and marveled over the exquisite details of his tiny body. I breathed in his newborn scent and wondered at the sweet nobility of his spirit.

The next day the children came and met their new baby brother. They were absolutely smitten. My oldest son, who usually isn't too interested in baby events like this lit up like a candle when he held him. His dimples were glowing at the peaks of his genuine smile.

My second son exuded a peaceful calm as he tenderly placed his head on his baby brother and gave him the gentlest of snuggles.

Then my daughter was given a turn and tears brimmed up in my eyes at the sound of her sweet, angelic voice singing her new best friend the most beautiful lullabies I've ever heard.

How could my mama heart be any fuller? Nothing could compare to the love I witnessed that day.

And nothing could prepare me enough for the trials I would face in the coming few days. But one thing's for certain. As the battle ensued, I would cling to this memory with all of my heart...

To be continued...

{Chapter 2 coming soon}

The Christ-Centered Home

With the celebration of Mother's Day yesterday, it's natural for mothers to enter this new week wondering where to go next. With cards and flowers, breakfasts in bed and little homemade gifts, our hearts are renewed to continue strong in our mothering journeys. And yet, we desire to be just a little bit better; we long to make a greater difference in our children's lives. We fully realize our role as homemakers is to be the heart of the home and create an atmosphere of love, peace, and refuge for our families. And yet, does it ever feel a bit daunting when we consider just how to accomplish this?

May I suggest a little book that might help?

"The Christ-Centered Home" by Emily Belle Freeman


I have dearly loved every book by Emily Freeman, but this one is my new favorite. With her gift of weaving stories and ideas into practical life lessons, Emily invites us on a 12-month journey to center our homes on our Savior, Jesus Christ.

In addition to inspirational stories and scriptures, each chapter includes journal questions for introspection and a lesson to teach our families (complete with a conversation, a connection activity, and a celebration treat to make together).

This book came at just the right time for me - in this transition phase of renting a little home while building our farmhouse. I've been searching for a way to unite my family and provide some sort of stability for them in this bit of upheaval. My answer is clear - I must create a Christ-centered home. Because it is only through Him that we will find the peace and stability we all seek in this ever-changing world with its continual trials. As I've taken the time to read, my cup has been filled with joy and resolve to reclaim my position as homemaker and home-changer. I hope that throughout this year, my family will feel a noticeable shift in the atmosphere of our home and by next Mother's Day, our hearts will be knit together in Christ.

Perhaps one of my favorite quotes from the book is this:


This is how I feel every. single. day. I feel to rejoice with all my heart for all of the ordinary and spectacular miracles He grants me each day. The tender mercies never stop raining down upon me, and the more I notice them, the more I find. Heaven has not forgotten me and heaven has not forgotten you. I hope that with the start of this new week you will feel how very much your Heavenly Father loves you and your family. He wants you to succeed and receive all the glorious blessings He has prepared for you. And if you seek for His grace, you will surely find it.

With love for all of you,

Your friend,
Jamie

The Race of Grace

More than ten years ago, the spring snow still frozen in icy patches here and there on the yellowed grass, my body was poised in runner’s lunge on the rubbery track, every muscle quivering in anticipation. I filled my lungs with cool, spring air, and the gunshot blasted — sending me off on the 400-meter dash.

My old, weathered gym shoes methodically hit the track and my steady breathing kept time with my steps. I started out strong, like I always do in this mid-distance race, leading the pack as we rounded the first bend. Even so, it was hard to judge how I was doing when the lanes play tricks on your perception.

The straightway stretched further than I recalled and I questioned my sanity in running the race that requires an all-out sprint for the whole quarter mile — the race deemed “the killer race.” Just the thought reminded my legs how tired they already were.

Still I ran on, hoping that maybe this race would be different.

Today, I know you’re weary. You give your all day after day, but this race of life is more taxing than you ever expected.

I know. I've been there too...

***To read the rest of my post, click here and join me over at DaySpring's (in)courage website where I am so honored to be guest posting today. {And while you are there, don't forget to sign up to receive free daily encouragement delivered straight to your inbox.} 

Join me today as I share a lesson I learned from a dear high school track teammate. And as you read, let the words breathe encouragement into your heart.

If Only You Believe

I keep thinking about Lazarus. How the impossible became possible when Christ raised him from the dead. But can you imagine the agony his sisters Mary and Martha must have endured for the four days before the miracle?

If only Christ would have been here. If only we would have sent for Him sooner. If only all of this would never have happened. The if only's must have run rampant through their hearts during those four long days.

And when Jesus came to Bethany, Martha uttered her grief: "Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died." If only.

But if only is never part of the plan. God's ways are always higher than our ways, and our lives unfold exactly according to His will for us. Not because He wants us to suffer. But because He always has something greater in store.

For Christ himself told his apostles before they traveled to Bethany, "...I am glad for your sakes that I was not there, to the intent ye may believe..." The death of Lazarus was not a heavenly oversight but a vital part of the heavenly plan to show forth the glory and power of God.

Even so, Martha still doubted. She worried that the body of Lazarus would stink having lain in the tomb for four days. Christ's response is both humbling and hopeful: "Said I not unto thee, that, if thou wouldest believe, thou shouldest see the glory of God?"

We know the rest of the story by heart. Lazarus comes forth from the tomb, alive and well and "many of the Jews which came to Mary, and had seen the things which Jesus did, believed on him."

The question is, do we?

It's easy to believe in the miracles that Christ performed in the Bible. We have hindsight. But do we believe in the midst of our own daily struggles? Faith is not true faith until is tried.

I have wondered time and again if my faith is strong enough to withstand horrendous, terrible blows. With the grace of God, I have overcome many challenges, yet even still I often wondered if my faith was strong enough to endure even more?

But that afternoon in September, just a few months ago, when we were broadsided by a car, I found out what my faith is really made of. There were at least a dozen thoughts simultaneously running through my head seconds after the wreck. But the one I remember the most is the resolute, steadfast faith that came to my aid. I silently stated to my heart, "This happened for a reason and somehow the Lord will turn this to our good."

In the coming days the if only's ran through my head on replay, but they were always combatted by an unwavering faith that the Lord was with us and would not abandon us.

The blessings we received because of the accident far, far outweighed the trouble it caused us. The Lord showed forth His glory and it was all for our good.

Last week our bathroom flooded, and while there were a million inconveniences this caused, we knew that somehow, in some way, the Lord would turn this experience to our good as well. And He has. We are not finished with the remodel that has ensued as a result, but in the end, I have faith that there are no accidents in heaven. Everything the Lord asks us to pass through will sooner or later, show forth His glory and turn to our good. Sometimes it doesn't happen for several months or several decades, but this I know: the Lord will compensate in ways we can't even imagine.

I have many trials in my life and I know you do too. My message to you today is to take a step back and find your faith. Silence the if only's and put your trust in the great God of heaven and earth. The promise the Savior gave to Martha is extended to us even today:

"...If thou [wilt] believe, thou [wilt] see the glory of God."




{All scriptures quoted from John 11}

Seeking Peace.

There are just over two weeks until Christmas and all I can think about is writing "peace."

But how can I even think about writing peace when I can hardly find it amidst the afternoon chaos? Coats and backpacks are all entangled and littered on the ground, accompanied with corrected homework sheets, school newsletters and the like spread out over counter, table, and couch. I see markers under the table and coloring pages lying in piles on shelves. Everywhere I look there are paper airplanes and half-finished origami creations resting like tufts of snow. Everyone needs me at once so I can listen to their read-aloud books and sight word sheets and help with story pre-writing. Where in all of this can peace be found?

We stumble along, getting everything sorted, but after an hour I can feel my patience growing thin and I know I need to escape for just a bit. It doesn't seem practical when there's so much to be done, but it might just be life-giving. 

So with the remnants of clutter tossed, and most of the homework tucked away, the little ones go upstairs to rest with a short movie and I retreat to my bedroom. 

I fall onto my bed and let my eyes close. I take a moment to just breathe. 

I breathe in gratitude for my oldest boy who is so responsible and talented. 

I breathe out all the anxiety. 

I breathe in love for my firecracker princess and breathe out overwhelm. 

I breathe in thanks for my middle son's easygoing nature and breathe out the noisy chaos. 

I breathe in appreciation for my home with its simple white decor and vintage charm.
I breathe out any lingering unhappiness. 

I breathe in pure awe and gratitude for my Savior, Jesus Christ, whose spirit fills my home and the deepest corners of my heart.
I breathe out all remnants of distress. 

It's okay to let everything go. It's okay to give your day to the Redeemer so He can redeem you from burdened to blessed. 

And I realize this: Peace is never far away when you realize your peace comes from Christ. 

When the movie is over and my respite is ended, I return to my family with smiling eyes and a peaceful heart. I resolve anew to take a small break of spiritual whitespace on a regular basis to restore my center--my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. I also commit to remembering that this peaceful center, this hub of the wheel that can only be found in Christ, can be a resting place even when I can't retreat. If I rest my heart on Him, His peace can be found even in the midst of a struggle. When the afternoon becomes an avalanche, I will draw upon my center, my firm foundation in Christ. Therein I will find everlasting peace.

So go to Him in the quiet moments and in the busy ones too. Breathe in His peace as you tuck little ones in, or peel carrots for the soup, or referee the endless quarrels. Breathe in His peace at any moment, at any time. And let His peace wrap your heart in wonder...

{I'm linking up to #onewordadvent over at Bonnie Gray's blog. I was beyond thrilled to create this week's hand-lettered badge for her link-up!}

Day 30: Tune My Heart

If you have a chance today, listen to Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing. It's one of my favorite songs. Patrick and I were privileged to sing in the choir during my graduation commencement ceremonies. We sang this song. The lyrics are so powerful and perfect that nothing I could write would add any value. So I will simply quote the lyrics below:

Come, thou fount of every blessing, tune my heart to sing thy grace.

Streams of mercy, never ceasing, call for songs of loudest praise.

Teach me some melodious sonnet sung by flaming tongues above;

Praise the mount, I’m fixed upon it, mount of thy redeeming love.

Here I raise my Ebenezer, hither by thy help I come,

And I hope by thy good pleasure safely to arrive at home.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.

Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.

Jesus sought me when a stranger wandering from the fold of God.

He, to rescue me from danger, interposed His precious blood.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.

Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.

O to grace, how great a debtor, daily I’m constrained to be!

Let thy goodness like a fetter bind my wandering heart to thee.

Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it, prone to leave the God I love.

Here’s my heart, O take and seal it, seal it for thy courts above.

Seal it for thy courts above.

May our hearts ever be tuned to sing His everlasting grace.

Day 21: Come What May

{To view this print in my etsy shop, click here}

Elder Wirthlin gave a monumental talk in October 2008. It's one of those talks that you never forget. The main message of his talk exhorted us to endure adversity well. The short video below shares the advice of Elder Wirthlin's mother to "Come What May and Love It."



My favorite quote from his discourse:

"The simple secret is this: put your trust in the Lord, do your best, then leave the rest to Him."  ~Elder Wirthlin

Day 19: Look

All the Israelites had to do was look to the brazen serpent to be healed and live. But because of the simplicity of the way, so many would not look, but chose to perish instead. Why wouldn't they look? we wonder to ourselves. It was so simple, so easy.

But how often do we do the same? The scriptures filled with the healing word of God wait for us on dusty shelves. But do we pick them up? Our church meetings, and especially the sacrament offer forgiveness, refreshment and nourishment to our parched souls. But do we go? And if we do, do we bring a softened, open heart? The great God of the universe, our very Eternal Father in Heaven waits patiently for us to commune with Him in prayer for all the things we need, but do we come?

Abundant life is freely offered to us at any and every moment of the day. All we must do is look.

Look to God and live.

Will you?

Day 18: His Child

This simple phrase is the basis and foundation of my life. It transcends all things of this earth and grants me overwhelming peace. 

To think that we are the children of the great Creator of the Universe is incredibly humbling and awe-inspiring. 

I believe we can let this simple, divine truth settle so deeply into our hearts that it actually softens our hearts and makes us more like Him. If we could grasp onto this thought and let it guide our daily actions, think of the love and grace we could extend to those in our circle of influence. Think of the difference we could make. 

You are a child of God.

I am a child of God.

Let this truth change you and mold you into the Divine royalty you have always been destined to become... 

Day 15: Remember

Throughout the scriptures we are encouraged to "remember." I would encourage you to do a study on this beautiful word and find it sprinkled throughout the beautiful scripture accounts. 

It is good for the soul to remember. Remember your blessings. Remember your hardships and how the Lord never left your side, and ultimately delivered you. Remember His power and miracles. Remember His love. Remember Him. 

It's a beautiful thing, this remembering. It takes a tired, worn-out day and makes it feel brand new. 

How has remembering blessed your life?

Day 14: Be Still

Stillness is so good for our souls. It is in the stillness that we can feel the comfort, the peace, and the love of our Heavenly Father. All we have to do is quiet our minds and hearts.

Today I encourage you to pause whatever you are doing right in this very minute--and choose to be still. Take a few, long deep breaths, and in this sweet moment of stillness, feel the presence of the Spirit. Remember the mercy, grace, and love of the Lord towards you, and choose to trust Him with your life, your heart and your dreams. He cares about you so much.

It is in the stillness that we can most readily find Him--waiting for us to come unto Him.

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Day 13: Beautiful Destination

What is your destination? If you have a great vision of where you want to be in life, then hold fast to that dream even if your road today feels rough. Keep your dreams ever before your eyes and savor the little moments along the way. It will all be worth it in the end. 

Sometimes dreams are easily chosen, but other times they're more elusive. If life finds you traversing a difficult road without a specific "dream," take heart. Keep walking the path. Stay close the Lord and He will guide you just where you need to be. You see, sometimes dreams come true that we never even knew would be possible. Your next destination may be a beautiful surprise.

My dreams right now are many: to raise a happy, righteous family, make wonderful memories, write and publish a book, live in a little farmhouse in the middle of nowhere, return to Portugal, go on missions with my husband, and maybe even change the world through words...What are your goals and dreams?

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Day 12: His Will

"And I do this for a wise purpose; for thus it whispereth me, according to the workings of the Spirit of the Lord which is in me. And now, I do not know all things; but the Lord knoweth all things which are to come; wherefore, he worketh in me to do according to his will." -Words of Mormon 1:7

This scripture inspires me. Mormon was just about to deliver up the plates to his son Moroni when he found this small record--the plates of Nephi. He could have easily dismissed it and set it aside. He had just finished abridging the entire Book of Mormon--surely this one small record out of the hundreds was insignificant, right? But Mormon was in tune with the Spirit, so he heard the whisper to include this record with his abridgment. He wrote the verse above following his decision. What faith Mormon had to listen to such a small and seemingly insignificant prompting. This decision would prove invaluable considering the loss of the 116 pages that would happen centuries later.

In short, the Lord knows what needs to happen. He orchestrates his plan perfectly. All we need to do is trust Him and listen. If we do, He will work His great and glorious will through us.

Day 8: I Love to See the Temple

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From the back windows of my home, if you search the horizon, you can see the temple way off far in the distance. At night you can see the glow of the spires. Truly, I love to see the temple. These beacons of light are a piece of heaven on earth and I delight every time I am honored to step inside temple doors. In the temple I always feel perfectly at home.

Lately I have felt stirrings in my heart to retreat to the temple more often. It has been our goal, as a couple since we were married, to attend once a month. For the most part, we have kept our goal, and it has proved such a blessing, but there was a special time in our married life when we were blessed to attend the temple weekly and it made such a difference.

I miss those days when we lived just down the street from the Rexburg temple. We would each pick a day during the week to rise at 5:00 in the morning to attend the temple at 6:00. Since we had little babies, we would switch off and go separately. Then once a month, we would get a babysitter and go together. There was a special feeling in our little cottage apartment during those two years we lived there and I believe it was because of the choice we made to increase our temple attendance.

Now I live 20 minutes from the temple, and while it seems so far, I remember in Portugal when we lived a country and 9 hours away from the temple. I am so blessed where I live, and in fact, so spoiled to live so close. I still have young children, and while this seems a valid excuse, the price to pay to attend the temple is so small in comparison to the blessings we receive.

To end, I would just like to quote from our beloved past apostle Elder Richard G. Scott:

"Because I love you, I am going to speak to you heart to heart, without mincing words. I have seen that many times individuals have made great sacrifices to go to a distant temple. But when a temple is built close by, within a short time, many do not visit it regularly. I have a suggestion: When a temple is conveniently nearby, small things may interrupt your plans to go to the temple. Set specific goals, considering your circumstances, of when you can and will participate in temple ordinances. Then do not allow anything to interfere with that plan. This pattern will guarantee that those who live in the shadow of a temple will be as blessed as are those who plan far ahead and make a long trip to the temple.

"Fourteen years ago I decided to attend the temple and complete an ordinance at least once a week. When I am traveling I make up the missed visits in order to achieve that objective. I have kept that resolve, and it has changed my life profoundly. I strive to participate in all the different ordinances available in the temple.

"I encourage you to establish your own goal of how frequently you will avail yourself of the ordinances offered in our operating temples. What is there that is more important than attending and participating in the ordinances of the temple? What activity could have a greater impact and provide more joy and profound happiness for a couple than worshipping together in the temple?

-Elder Richard G. Scott 

Today I will be establishing a new goal of how frequently I will retreat to the temple to gain the peace, direction, and blessings that await. I can't afford not to.

May we never lose sight of the temple, and all of the glorious blessings that await us there.

Day 5: Ponderize

Inspired by Elder Devin G. Durrant's talk from yesterday's General Conference, I hand lettered my ponderize scripture verse of the week. It's slightly messy as I didn't sketch it out or perfect it, but it is wonderful to me. Hanging on my fridge, I read it every time I pass and feel the power of the scriptures uplifting me.

I love how these verses of scriptures can be safe places of refuge for our minds to rest. I often struggle with discouraging, negative thoughts, and this ponderize challenge truly came as an answer to my prayers. By meditating upon the scriptures, we provide a higher place to redirect our thoughts when they get out of hand. And as we add scripture upon scripture to our repertoire, we will gain valuable, reliable friends who will cheer, edify, and uplift us whenever we think upon them {see this beautiful talk by Elder Richard G. Scott}

Will you join me in the #ponderize challenge? Elder Durrant says he and his wife have made the goal to ponderize for 20 years--and they only have 17 year left.

It's a beautiful, simple, yet lofty challenge that will bless our lives in more ways than we can imagine.

What scripture verse are you ponderizing this week?

Scriptures are like packets of light that illuminate our minds and give place to guidance and inspiration from on high. They can become the key to open the channel to communion with our Father in Heaven and His Beloved Son, Jesus Christ.

~Elder Richard G. Scott 

Day 3: Discipleship

General Conference washed over me like a wave of peace today. Heavenly Father is so good to us. He always provides waters of stillness and refreshment to quench our souls. I feel wholly filled with living water and empowered onward in my life's journey.

Heaven feels so very near.

This quote, (along with dozens of others) touched me deeply. {Click here to view this print in my Etsy shop}

Discipleship doesn't need to be complicated. All it requires is our heart and a willing mind. Come unto Christ and He will show us all things that we should do. He will lead us to places of green pasture and comfort us when the storms billow. Life doesn't require complicated solutions. All it requires is Christ.

He is the answer to our every need.

He is the spiritual bread and water that will eternally satisfy.

He is the one true Friend who will always be there for us.

He lives, and as His disciple, I renew my commitment to daily come unto Him and let His mercy and grace heal my soul.

For if we knock, He will open His door, welcome us into His home, and give us words of eternal life.

Day 2: Have Joy

Last week President Dieter F. Uchtdorf spoke in the Women's Meeting. I think his talk was just for me...and probably just for you too because Conference talks are always like that. Somehow they reach the inmost parts of my heart and deliver to me the exact answers I need while at the same time, they reach the inmost parts of your heart and give you the answers you are seeking. Somehow the Spirit can teach us universally and individually at exactly the same time. I call it the miracle of Conference.

This quote struck me when President Uchtdorf spoke and I haven't stopped thinking about it since. How comforting it is for us to know that we are designed for joy, not for sadness. We all sincerely desire joy, and I believe President Ucthdorf's talk is an outline for how we can find this abundant joy that Heavenly Father desires for us. My heart needed his words, and I'm looking forward to diving into this talk for further instructions on the happy life. You can find this print in my Etsy shop by clicking {here}. It's on sale today for $7.

I hope you have such a marvelous General Conference weekend. For more information on Conference you can visit this site to learn more.

Happy Friday friends!