Seasons of Loneliness . . .

I am a young girl watching my three older brothers wrestle around, embark on grand adventures with their bikes, and tease each other. I long to be one of the boys, to have the sort of relationship they have. Even when I’m invited to play, I feel like an outsider and am filled with loneliness.

I am a tomboy – chubby and larger than all of my adolescent friends during the awkward “tween” years. I am filled with loneliness as I long to be thinner, prettier, and garner the attention of boys.

I am a freshman in high school - pretty, curvy and slender (for me), outgoing, popular, and have many friends. Yet, I feel alone as I try to make sense of who I am and the choices before me. Sadness overshadows me as I allow my insecurities to take the wheel.

I am 18, standing in my dorm room, 1,000 miles from home, waving goodbye to my parents, the tears welling in my eyes. I feel that ache of loneliness as I seek to find my place, where I belong in this new realm of adulthood and college life.

 I am a newlywed sitting on the stairs of our first home together sobbing on the phone to my sister-in-law. The loneliness of living on a dead-end country road in an old farm house is threatening to ensnare me. I miss the hustle and bustle of life in a busy apartment complex surrounded by friends.

Fast forward just 20 months later; I am consumed with loneliness and uncertainty as a new mother – a huge wave of insecurity threatens to envelop me. As much as I love being home with my son, I long for interaction with others. The days are long. I talk my husband’s ear off when he walks through the door.

I am new to town, pregnant with our second child, and longing for a familiar face. My dad has just been diagnosed with cancer 1,000 miles away. Worry and loneliness consume me. My husband is worried about me.

I am living in an old log cabin up in the mountains, now pregnant with our third child. I love the beauty which surrounds me, living next to my in-laws, and raising our kids on the farm. Yet, I long for friendship – to find my place in this little community. It is a new sense of loneliness.

I am a 32-year-old stay-at-home mom of five, happily married to my best friend for the last 11 years, living the life we dreamed of together, richly blessed in more ways than I can count, surrounded with breathtaking beauty each day, encircled with loving family and incredible friends, and yet, I am pained with feelings of insecurity and loneliness once again. How can I feel so alone when I am surrounded by so much love?

As I look back on the seasons of loneliness I’ve experienced, there seems to be a common thread – CHANGE. Change brings about loneliness (for me anyway). I am currently working on improving myself and taking control of my life again – making some pretty BIG changes. It is a difficult process fighting the nameless, faceless enemy that resides within me – my inner demons. They scream out my insecurities, my faults, and try to beat me down – instilling doubt, fear, and even feelings of loneliness and despair. However, I am not in this fight alone. My Heavenly Father and my Savior Jesus Christ are fighting with me and for me. I know that they love me and desire my happiness. You see, I’ve never been alone. God has always been with me – providing relief through others, tender mercies, and healing through our Savior’s Atonement. Therefore, I will continue to trust and exercise my faith in my Heavenly Father. He will see me through this, as He has in times past. It’s going to be a difficult, even painful journey - but such is the process of transforming coal into a diamond.

Elizabeth George suggests, “Allow God to use the difficulties and disappointments in life as polish to transform your faith into a glistening diamond that takes in and reflects His love.”

Whatever season of loneliness you may be experiencing from the awkwardness of youth to finding your place in the world; to waiting for the next step – whether that be marriage, children, or a career to the ache of unfulfilled dreams and empty arms; to the chaos of parenthood and the silence of an empty nest; to the death of a loved one, the loss of health, and the sting of age. . .  YOU ARE NEVER ALONE! Our Heavenly Father loves you. You are His child. He has a plan for your life – a plan that includes refinement. Hold on and reach out to Him in the darkness of despair and loneliness. He will offer relief to the broken hearted and hope to the hopeless just as He has done for me. Seasons of loneliness will ebb and flow, just remember you are never alone.  ~Love me~ Kristen

Sorrow That the Eye Can't See

I've had these thoughts running through my mind for quite a few weeks now, but not a lot of time to put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, as the case may be.) I finally decided that if I want to get this post done, I must MAKE the time, for it cannot be found anywhere.

A few weeks ago in Relief Society, we were singing one of my favorite hymns, and the lines struck a note in me. "Who am I to judge another, when I walk imperfectly? In the quiet heart is hidden, sorrow that the eye can't see. Who am I to judge another? Lord I would follow thee."

As I sat there, singing the words, a feeling of shame and sorrow washed over me. I thought of the many, many, MANY critical and unkind thoughts I had running through my head about my fellow brothers and sisters that week. I thought of all the unkind words I had spoken to my children, to my spouse, the ones I hadn't said to strangers but I certainly had thought them!!  I thought of the many ways I had failed to see the sorrows of my fellow man and respond in a loving and compassionate way. I thought of all the times I had judged another, without knowing the whole story, without mercy or compassion in my heart. My heart was heavy as I thought about all the ways I walk along this path so very imperfectly.

The truth is, we are all walking along this path in a very imperfect way. We are all struggling to do the best we know how, in a world that is fraught with sin, struggles, sorrows  and wickedness. The truth is, we are all, each and every one of us, sinners, struggling to get back to our Father. So, really, who am I to judge another, just because they sin differently than I do? Just because their weakness is not mine, doesn't mean I shouldn't have compassion for their struggle, their battle, their war. The truth is, they are my brother, my sister, fighting a battle I may not understand. Struggling with sorrows I cannot see.

The question then, for me, is this: How can I love my brother? How can I do a better job of loving and serving those around me? Does it matter that their sorrows may have been caused by their own actions? Shouldn't we still love and lift to the best of our ability?

I think back to a time when my own actions caused much sorrow in my life, and the lives of those who loved me. I am so grateful to those who loved me without judging me, who helped me find a way back to the path, who helped me to feel the love of my Heavenly Father, without condemning me, or criticizing me for losing my way in the first place. Where would I be without them? I don't know, but I am pretty sure it would be a much darker place than I currently occupy.

The truth is, every person you know, every single one of us, is carrying burdens that the world can't see. Sometimes they are giant boulders in our paths, like the death of a loved one, or illness, or addictions that have caused our world to spiral completely out of control. Sometimes they are pebbles in our shoe, that irritation that just won't go away. Always, we need the love and compassion of our fellow man to help us get through them.

So how can we love our brother?  A few ideas from my oh-so-wise Facebook friends:

• Pray: I, for one, believe in the miraculous power of prayer. When I feel helpless, like there is not one thing I can do to make a difference, I pray. It unites our faith with our Father, and can help bring about mighty miracles in the lives of those we love.  
• Be Kind: Be that safe place, that refuge. Listen without judging, without giving unwanted advice, without thinking in your head about all the ways you would have done it better. (I never do that, ever.) (Using my sarcasm font here, in case you were wondering just how self-righteous I can be.)     
• Serve: It doesn't have to be huge, a smile, a note, a nod at the grocery store. A Dr. Pepper left at the door of a friend you know is having a rough day. Sometimes, it is the little actions of others that let us know that God still knows we're here, struggling along, trying our best to keep swimming, Dory-like, even when we can't remember why. 

It comes down to love, Without judgement, without restrictions, without boundaries. It is looking at our brothers and sisters, and trying to see them as our Father sees them, with limitless potential and endless beauty. I know I have such a long way to go in this endeavor, but my hope is that, in writing this down, in recognizing the desire for improvement, maybe next time I sing those beautiful words, I can feel a tiny bit less guilty...  ~Kim

Just another episode of COPS, except I'm living it!

I'll never forget a particularly warm summer day three kids ago. . . I loaded up my boys and drove "oh so carefully" to town. I slowly pulled into the parking lot at Target and parked my grandma mobile. I decided to first get a shopping cart - (this is just far easier to do without my baby in my arms while trying to restrain my two-year-old from running in the parking lot). I pulled the cart around to the side of the car to get my toddler out. As I am lifting him into the basket of the cart, I recall a news story I read about people snatching purses out of carts. So being a "safe" mom, I threw my purse over my shoulder, checked to make sure my keys were in my purse, locked the doors, and then proceeded to get baby G out.

I had just gotten my baby unbuckled when I realized the shopping cart with my precious cargo (toddler L) was gone! Bewildered, I looked up to see my son flying down the parking lot in the shopping cart. At that exact moment the cart hit a car that was backing up. Mortified, and the adrenaline pumping through my veins like Wonder Woman, I ran to my toddler at world record pace. He was smiling and absolutely fine. I quickly mumbled an apology to the teenager driver, who looked at me as though I were a mental patient. She smiled politely and left. I wheeled my precious cargo back to the car, grateful that he was unscathed.

However, in the midst of the shopping cart commotion, I had shut the door (the door that I had already locked). I then reached for my purse and realized it too was in the car with baby G. What was I to do? I couldn't very well just leave him in the car while I went in search of help. I'd be charged as a negligent mother for sure! Fortunately, at that exact moment a sweet old lady pulled in beside me (a tender mercy from God). I quickly explained the situation to her and asked if she could stand by my car while I went for help. She happily agreed. I ran into the store with my toddler tank on my hip. I scanned the store and saw a security officer. I flagged him down and he called the police to assist me.

I was waiting in the parking lot for a few minutes with the security officer, the sweet old lady holding an umbrella to shield the sun from my baby, and my toddler dancing in the cart, when a patrol car pulls up. The officer gets out assesses the situation and tells me he doesn't have the right tool to get the door open, but that another officer should be there momentarily. Baby G, who was unbuckled, is now crawling around the car enjoying his freedom. Then an officer on a motorcycle arrives. Again, he doesn't have the right tool. By this point, I'm beyond embarrassed as it appears I’m living an episode of COPS. People are staring, some are glaring, and there's not a thing I can do about it.

Another patrol car arrives. I'm now surrounded by police officers on all sides. The officers are chatting with each other; some are playing with baby G through the glass. Finally, a patrol car with the right tool arrives. At this point, a lady brings me a bottle of water – (another tender mercy). The officer gets the door open in a matter of seconds. I get baby G out, look him over, and decide that he is just fine - not even breaking a sweat yet. I thank the officers and the sweet old lady for all of their help as they leave. I want nothing more than to drive home, but I’ve driven 45 minutes to run my errands and I can’t leave empty-handed. So, I square my shoulder, take a deep breath, strap my boys in the cart, and proceed into the store . . .

Moral of the story: (other than displaying my many mishaps as a mom) despite our best intentions, things can go wrong. Fortunately, (as has been the case for me time and time again) God provides tender mercies – usually in the form of a kind person who offers to shield the sun from my baby locked in the car, to the many officers who responded so quickly to assist us in our time of need, to the kind woman who brought me a bottle of water. There is goodness all around us, if we but open our eyes to see it. To me, the kindness of others is but an extension of God’s love.

So friends, how will you help another today? Will you stand idly by, uncertain of what to do, worrying about what others will think of you, and how this may interrupt your plans for the day? Or will you accept the call to act and help another who may be having a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day? It may be as simple as a smile, a hug, a note of appreciation, holding the door open . . . to the more complex tasks of making someone dinner, running an elderly woman to the grocery store, or helping someone change a flat tire. Whatever you do, I firmly believe that kindness returns full circle. So, let us be kind. Let us give people the benefit of the doubt. Let us be instruments in God’s hands to help and uplift those in need - we may just be the answer to their prayers.

~Love me~Kristen

The Wrong Line and Integrity . . .

So, I've come to the conclusion that I am magnetically drawn to the wrong line in the grocery store. You know the lines, where it's the cashier's first day, the bank card won't work, lady has more coupons than I do diapers for my children, etc. Such has been my experience more often than not. This is the infamous story of my adventure with three kids (three and under) in tow at a large grocery store for the annual caselot sale.

As we enter the store, my three-year-old spots the race car cart and decides that this is what we need for our shopping experience. I mean this thing is the Cadillac of shopping carts - just as large and awkward to steer as the Cadi's of the 60's. So, I oblige him and drag the kids back into a cubby hole filled with hundreds of carts. Fortunately, the race car cart was near the front so that I didn't have to juggle the carts too much. My young boys excitedly jump into their race car, ready to conquer the store. I, on the other hand, realize that I have a problem, a rather big problem. Where am I going to put my baby? I can't very well put her in the basket. I mean, I'm at the caselot sale and I have a long list of items, where would I put all of my cases of food? And did I mention this fancy race car, covers the bottom rack of the cart, so that is clearly not an option for stacking food. I try to convince my boys that we should get a different cart, but they wouldn’t hear it. It was like trying to convince my boys that liver and onions tastes better than ice cream - it's not going to happen. Anyway, I decide to break the rules, ignore the clearly marked posting on the cart that says, "Do not put your child here." I figured I could balance her car seat on the bar between the basket and the race car and she wouldn't fall. I was right. It was a perfect fit; however, I am what you would call, vertically challenged or short. With my sweet baby up on that bar in a car seat I could barely see over her to steer the cart.

So, I set off with high hopes of tackling my list in the shortest time possible and without any tears, fights, or whining. As I begin, I realize just how difficult it is to push this race car, Cadillac cart. Here I am trying to go up and down aisles in a grocery store that I am not familiar with, realizing that what I want is now behind me. I attempt to turn my cart around and nearly take out a cardboard display of soups. I decide to just back up. At this point, I realize that I need a little beeper like they have on the motorized scooters to warn other patrons that I am in motion. That and perhaps a wide load sign. You should have seen the looks I was getting. I don't know if they were looks of sympathy, frustration, awe, or please don't run my children over!

Somehow, I managed to find most of what I needed and a few other things that I didn't really need. I was truly becoming quite a spectacle. My basket was overflowing, I had boxes shoved underneath my boys' feet and I still needed buckets and rolled oats. After walking up and down 17 different aisles, I finally found the buckets. Now where to put them? I rearranged the items in my basket for the fourth time and managed to secure my buckets into the cart, however, now I can't see over Callie and the buckets. This creates quite the situation. I decided to press on. I was on a mission, you see and there wasn't anything that was going to stop me. I decided to stop and ask for directions to the rolled oats and was directed to a narrow cubby in the front of the store. By this point, I almost have to get a running start to even get my cart moving. I reach my destination and realize that the oats are in a 50 lb. bag. Now, I'm an optimist and a realist. I realized there was no way I could fit this into my cart. I decided to head to the check-out and let the cashier know that I wanted one of those bags of oats to add to my already bulging cart.

I found a short line and thought, "Yay me! I survived the caselot sale without any tears, fights or whining. My baby didn't fall off of the cart and I didn't run anyone over." I was feeling pretty proud of myself. I approached the cashier and jokingly stated, "You are going to love me with all these groceries!" He said something humorous in return and I thought I'll be out of here and on my way home within minutes . . . or so I thought.

I'm pretty sure it had to be the cashier's first day. He did fairly well at ringing up my regular groceries. He only deleted one item, however with my caselot stuff, it was a nightmare. Now, with most caselot sales, you just tell the cashier what you have and how many and they punch in the codes so that you don't have to unload everything. My cashier didn't know any of the codes and apparently wasn't given a "code book." So, the bagger boy, trying to be helpful, would read him the bar code. I watched in awe and stunned silence as the cashier typed only two of the 7-10 numbers bagger boy just read. The poor kid just didn't know where the numbers were or couldn't type fast enough. Then, cashier boy would say it didn't work. Bagger boy would then read numbers again and AGAIN it somehow didn't work. Now, I've been a cashier at a grocery store before and I know it can be a bit stressful, so I was really trying to be patient and understanding. But, as the line behind me continued to grow with people in a hurry (who seemed to think that this was somehow my fault) giving me dirty looks, I began to lose patience. Cashier boy finally found his book and entered a few codes correctly. Yay for him! But then he would accidentally delete the item and we would be back at square one. He entered a wrong code for applesauce and almost charged me over $50 for what should have cost maybe $8. I started unloading my Cadillac and putting items to be scanned, while bagger boy held my 50lb bag of rolled oats on his shoulder. I was almost to the point of getting mean and getting mad. Finally, somehow, by some miraculous means I was exiting the store with my Cadillac of carts overflowing with groceries and children after checking out for nearly 15 minutes.

Bagger boy offered his assistance, and well, I had to accept it because there was no way I could get everything to my car by myself. Once at my car, I told bagger boy to put the buckets in my front seat so that I could get everything into my trunk. Bagger boy didn't listen and threw them in my trunk, at which point I dismissed him. I mean, he wasn't going to do it right anyway and I had had enough! Well, here I am with my three kids in the cart, unloading groceries when a lady who was behind me in line, comes up to me and offers her assistance. What a kind and sweet woman. So, together we loaded my car with several cases of food and other groceries. I thanked her for her help, loaded up the kiddos, started the car and was ready to finally leave the large unfamiliar grocery store, when a thought entered my mind, "check your receipt."

This seemed like a good idea, given the many complications that had occurred in the checkout line. I took out my shopping list and compared it to my receipt and what do you know? Cashier boy didn't charge me for a case of juice. Now, at this point you might be thinking, just forget about it. You deserve the free juice after your horrendous experience. But, I couldn't. A line from a *General Conference talk kept repeating in my mind, “Are you willing to sell your integrity for a 25-cent newspaper and three hotel towels?” My integrity was worth more than the $10 of juice. So, I turned off my car, unbuckled my children, and marched across the parking lot with three kiddos in tow to pay for the juice. I can't say that I had the best attitude about the situation, but I was grateful that I had done the right thing for my conscience was clear. The cashier was genuinely surprised as I returned to pay for the juice.

I don’t tell this story to boast of myself, but to illustrate that we each have opportunities to exhibit honesty and integrity daily. Sometimes those opportunities present themselves at the most inopportune times. We may be prone to make excuses to justify our inactions thinking no one will ever know. But dear friends, you know and our Heavenly Father knows and the guilt that follows can be a heavy burden to carry. I am by no means perfect or even close to it. I have made and continue to make mistakes, but I’ve learned that mistakes can be the best teacher, if we utilize them as opportunities for growth by repenting, improving and striving to be better. 

How will you respond when your integrity is on the line? Are you willing to sell your integrity for a 25-cent newspaper and three hotel towels (or in my case, a case of juice)? It is my hope that we will be men and women of integrity striving to do that which is right at all times and in all places.

~Love me~Kristen

* Link for the talk

https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2006/10/three-towels-and-a-25-cent-newspaper?lang=eng