Ivy and I pray together often. Most nights at dinner. Most nights before bed.
I used to say the prayer almost every time. Then most nights we both would say a prayer. Then we started splitting it 50/50, sometimes I would say it, sometimes Ivy would say it. Now she says it almost every time.
It’s really neat to see her try to replicate what I say. When we were both saying a prayer each night, she would usually ask me to go first. When it was her turn, it was clear she was trying to repeat as much of what I said as she could remember.
When she started asking to go first then demanding I repeat things she said, I knew she was close to taking over this important responsibility. I was very happy.
It’s fun watching her prayers evolve.
Recently she’s started saying something profound and powerful every night.
“Heavenly Father, thank you for everything we have, and thank you for everything we don’t have.”
When is the last time you thanked God for everything you don’t have?
When Beth and I got married, we were required to leave our ward or church building we had been attending. That ward was for young single adults (YSA). As we were no longer single and saying goodbye to the days of young, it was time for us to leave.
That ward held an important place in my heart. It was that ward that helped me come back to Christ. It was the leaders there that helped me re-establish my faith. It was the people there that helped me feel welcome and helped me to stay.
I didn’t want to leave.
Beth said we had to.
After the YSA ward Beth and I joined a family ward that didn’t last long before it was split, boundaries were reset, and we joined another ward.
We’ve now been in the Chaparral ward for most of our marriage.
We recently moved so we’re joining a new ward, a new group of people, a new building. It won’t be that different, aside from the people.
And yet it’s been really hard for me to say goodbye.
We’re just moving down the street, I’ll still see some of the people from our old ward sometimes. But it won’t be the same.
I compared it to moving away for college. Moving away for college was really difficult for me. I love my family. I knew when I left for college that everything was changing. I also knew it was something I had to do to grow.
When I left for college, of course I’d continued to see my family. They’d only be a 5-hour drive away. But I wouldn’t see them every day. I wouldn’t talk to them every day. We wouldn’t be in the same house.
In the same way, leaving our ward, they’d just be a 15-minute drive away. But I wouldn’t see them every Sunday. I wouldn’t talk to them every week.
I guess I just don’t like goodbyes.
It’s difficult saying goodbye to my family every time I leave home.
And that’s when I realized that the Chaparral Ward in the Scottsdale Arizona North Stake had become my family, and I would miss them.
My calling in our ward for the last year was Elders Quorum President. Before that I was an Elders Quorum counselor so I’d been in the Elders Quorum Presidency for the Chaparral Ward for a couple years. I had pages and pages of notes. Tons of spreadsheets. Tons of information, and thoughts, and to-dos for and about these people I had come to care a lot about. As I compiled it all into one email for the person taking my place, I realized I wouldn’t need most of this information ever again.
As I closed 15 browser tabs on my computer that I’d had open for a year, it was like saying goodbye.
A ward family is unique and special. I will miss those people. I will miss those relationships.
A little over a year ago the Chaparral ward received a new member. A man was baptized into our ward. Soon after his baptism, he moved to a new area, so he left our ward. But he was still family. He started dating a woman from our ward and they were sealed in the Gilbert temple recently. Beth and I were privileged and blessed to be there.
Beth and I found a babysitter that very morning, just in time to get to the temple. We were one of the last to arrive and walk into the sacred sealing room. We had only been out of the Chaparral ward a couple weeks. As we walked into the sealing room, we looked around at all familiar faces, all faces from the Chaparral ward. I realized that for this couple getting married, with no local family or family in the church, this was their famliy: Ward Family. Everyone there were members of their church. Everyone there loved them. This is the significance of a ward family. This is the power and the love of a church.
I guess this is what Christ wants. It’s why His church is important. Over time we spend so much time with these people. We love and we serve. During my time in the Chaparral ward I thought about this group of people so much, sometimes at the expense of my family. Sometimes my family needed me but I was at someone’s new home at 8am Saturday morning helping them move. Often I would be on my phone with someone needing help while my girls crawled over me. The time put into those people I loved so much connected me to them.
A new Elders Quorum President comes in and the ward will continue with business as usual. All will continue seamlessly. This is the structure of Christ’s church.
It’s the love of Christ that allows us to serve in these callings. I’m grateful for that calling. It was so hard. I couldn’t believe I only served in that calling for a year because it felt like so much more. That calling stretched my limits and taught me a lot.
I’m grateful that Christ asks us to serve when we’re so incapable.
But now I say goodbye and we move on to new opportunities, new people, new chances to serve.
“To ten million fireflies, I’m weird ‘cause I hate goodbyes
Sage is very much forming full sentences now (callback to last post). She has a lot to say. A really neat thing to see is Sage’s adoration for her big sister. She follows Ivy around everywhere she goes. She’s started wearing Ivy’s slides to school, even though they’re way too big for her, because they’re Ivy’s old shoes.
Sage is still shy. She’s getting better, but still has her moments. She’ll open up to people rarely. If a stranger is around she becomes super coy. She’s gotten especially better with family and people she sees regularly. But once she knows you and trusts you, she is full Sagey Sunshine. She is a linchpin in nursery at church. She walks in and gets other kids toys. It’s weird because despite being shy she likes to sing as loudly as she can during sacrament meeting in church. The only way to get her to be quiet is to tell her everyone is watching her because she’s being too loud. She immediately quiets down and starts looking around. I hope I’m not irreparably damaging her psyche.
Ivy’s growth and transformation since Wren was born is extraordinary. She still has her toddler moments. but overall she seems like a new person. A new maturity has immerged. She is smotheringly loving with Wren.
Ivy and Sage are constantly asking to hold Wren. They love her.
I’ve been telling people the oldest child has to grow up fast, the middle child has to learn to survive, and the youngest child will be the toughest. Wren has been mauled since the second she got home. If you look closely at her eyes you can’t help but see a, “I left heaven for this?” Look on her face.
It’s interesting watching this dynamic develop between Ivy, Sage, and Wren, and then think about myself and my siblings. I think about how quickly I had to grow up, how Adie followed me around, and how much I used to beat up Garrick and Dresdan.
Recently Garrick sent me a video. It was a guy talking about his older brother. He was saying how he was grateful for his older brother because he watched his older brother take all the speed bumps so he didn’t have to. That meant a lot to me.
Now I’m seeing Ivy already start taking the speed bumps that Sage and Wren won’t have to.
Transition into a heartwarming sister story.
Bedtime is of course an adventure/disaster/struggle pretty much every night. Ivy and Sage share a room. Most nights they lay down, all seems quiet, then Sage gets out of bed, turns on the light, climbs onto Ivy’s bed, and they start playing. This would be okay, except that it turns into tears and pain almost 100% of the time if left unchecked.
One night we put Ivy and Sage to bed a little earlier than usual. I watched on the monitor as Sage turned on the light and got into Ivy’s bed. I went upstairs and opened the door. Sage immediately reacted by starting to frantically scoot towards the edge of the bed, as she was used to me angrily coming in to tell her to get back in bed. This night I decided to give another message. I told Sage she could stay with Ivy as long as they did calm and quiet activities like read and tell stories. Sage got so excited. The smile on her face. She scooted back toward Ivy and started quietly clapping with the biggest grin on her face.
Ivy said, “Okay, I be just a little crazy.”
I told her no crazy at all. She said, “Just this much crazy,” and showed her forefinger and thumb pressed tightly together indicating a tiny bit of crazy. I reiterated that there was to be no crazy. I left them to quietly play. They ended up peacefully going to sleep.
Bedtime, sitting and playing quietly together, turning on the light, I’ve learned every so often it’s okay to just let it go. It eventually ends up in Sage crying, but at that point she’ll just get in bed and go to sleep. Ivy will usually lie down quietly facing her lamp going through her books and audio sleep stories.
We recently moved. The days during the move were…hard. It was difficult for the girls. I could tell. It’s interesting how our personalities, the things people don’t see, get passed onto our children. I could sense my girls feeling unsettled because I felt unsettled.
I didn’t recognize Ivy and Sage during the move. They were not themselves. In the midst of this chaos, after they went to sleep, I had to write as I do every night. I came back to this post to continue on it.
Writing about them was just what I needed. I re-read this in progress post and it reminded me of the normal disposition of my girls. This wasn’t them.
I came back and read this –
I was in the car with Ivy on a long drive. I was zoned out, in my own head.
Suddenly Ivy said something to me. I just responded automatically without even thinking about what she said, “Yeah, Ivy.”
Then I processed what she said. “The moms on the bus go beep beep beep.”
Once I processed it, I realized Ivy was making our classic joke, saying something on the bus does something it doesn’t actually do.
I cracked up and told Ivy she got me, and that it was really funny.
She was silent so I didn’t know if she was over it because I took too long.
I looked in the rearview mirror and she was sitting in her car seat with a smug grin on her face.
“I made Dad laugh,” she said just loud enough for me to hear.
Gosh I love these girls so much and I’ll try not to turn this Ivy and Sage moments post into a parenting post but… parenting is so hard. All the cliches – there is no playbook for this, I don’t know what I’m doing, etc.
I am an apprentice parent. And who am I an apprentice to?
The Father of the universe. What an honor. I know I’ve written about this before but how could He possibly entrust me – so incredibly flawed and faulty – to care for these precious souls?
Anyways, back on to the positive, funny, and uplifting moments of parenting two amazing girls.
Sage is crazy in the pool. Ivy as a baby had a semblance of this behavior before she got old enough to know better, but it was nothing like Sage. If we’re sitting on a step in the pool, Sage will repeatedly walk to the edge of the step and dive out into the water as far as she can. She’s not just stepping off the edge, she is diving. She’ll do one of two things at this point. She will either curl up into a ball or she will stretch out completely like she’s trying to reach the other end of the pool. It goes without saying we watch her very closely in and near the pool.
My family likes to go cliff jumping at the lake. It’s one of our favorite activities. Looks like Sage is going to be my cliff jumper. Ivy will too, but Sage seems to have an innate desire for danger.
As a kid I hated roller coasters. Hated. I would be peer-pressured to go on rides, and I would hate it. I remember my cousin Sarah loving roller coasters and having the feeling that I needed to toughen up. My parents now say it was Adie getting old enough to ride roller coasters that made me start embracing them. Now there’s nothing I love more than thrill rides and thrill activities. Roller coasters, sky diving, cliff jumping – these are my favorite things to do. If you told my 8-year-old self I’d grow up and my three favorite things would be roller coasters, jumping out of an airplane, and doing a gainer off a 35-foot cliff, I’d probably have thought that unlikely. It’s interesting how those around us influence us so much, sometimes for the better.
Like I said, I think Sage is going to be a natural cliff-jumper. Ivy may see that and become a cliff-jumper as well.
Ivy does already love the lake, though. Let the record show.
There’s a mini battle Beth and I have had the last two summers when we visit Las Vegas. Beth doesn’t want Ivy to go to the lake with me and my family. I always think it goes without saying that she’s going.
I kind of understand Beth’s reservations.
I understand that Ivy is little, it can be the slightest bit dangerous if we don’t watch her closely (which we do), it’s hot, open water, etc.
On the other hand, Ivy has to come to the lake with us!
Beth’s main concern I know is that I’m not fully engaged in parenthood when at the lake. Hard to watch your daughter while you’re leaping off cliffs. That said, when I’m not jumping off cliffs, there’s nothing I want more than to be sitting with Ivy on a boat, a kayak, or swimming with her.
When we finally did take Ivy to the lake for the first time, she loved it. She spent 8 hours at the lake, took a little cat nap in the shade while cruising around in a boat, went home, drove to St. George, and proceeded to stay up all night. Ivy’s a lake girl.
One last funny Ivy story and Sage story to conclude this post.
Ivy the other day started to say, “We’re going to do Halloween, then Thanksgiving, and Christmas.” As I was starting to think to myself, ‘Wow, how’d she know the order of holidays? My girl is growing up..’ Ivy concluded, “We’re going to do it backwards this year.” That made me chuckle.
As I mentioned, we moved. The new neighborhood is full of little kids under the age of 9. Coming from essentially a retirement community at our condo, that’s been great.
The other day Ivy and Sage were sitting in the grass playing with a new friend. Ivy was talking a lot, telling this new friend stuff. Sage, still her coy and quiet self at times, was repeating everything Ivy was saying, just extremely quiet. So Ivy would say, “This is how you make rock people” and Sage would whisper, “how..make.. rock people.”
Why would she want to raise her children after life on earth? Their souls will be grown, and they will no longer need rearing to adulthood like they would have needed on earth. Are there children in heaven?
Then the other day I was spending time with Ivy and Sage. Wren was also in the room. Ivy said something very smart. Sage said something very cute. Wren spit up. I realized how precious each of these phases was.
While I’d always considered this promise strange, in that moment it made sense. I wouldn’t want to miss out on any of these moments or phases with my daughters. Each age, each moment, each day is so unique with each of them.
Right now Ivy is becoming so smart and so helpful.
Right now Sage is so trusting and so happy.
Right now Wren is so innocent and so cute.
I could add 100 more individual adjectives for them at these specific moments. They are each so unique.
A common theme of my prayers is asking God the question: What did I do to earn these precious gifts?
I don’t know how I could possibly be worthy of these unique and special souls that have been sent down to me. I look at Ivy, Sage, and Wren and just marvel at who they are.
I marvel that the world goes day-to-day without answers to these questions:
Why am I here?
Where did I come from?
Where am I going?
What happens to those we love when they move on?
This life is so hard but without the inkling of an understanding of what comes next, it seems so hopeless.
The Plan of Salvation is a Plan of Happiness. Because God loves us He gave us families. Because He loves us He gave us the chance to come to this planet to learn.
I marvel at this plan and that I get to be a part of it.
I don’t know exactly how things work after this life. I don’t know how eternity works. But I do know that God is perfect and He loves us perfectly. I know that nothing will be lost – not one moment, not one gift.
I know that God gave me these daughters not for this life but for eternity. I know we’ll be together forever.
I was working on my laptop and Ivy saw a picture. It was an abstract-looking drawing of a long-haired individual meditating.
Ivy said, “It’s Jesus.”
Her and Sage say this if they see pretty much any image of a long-haired individual.
It makes me happy every time.
I chuckled.
Then Ivy said, “Show Jesus with the light.”
I paused like you often have to do when talking with 4-year-olds to figure out what she meant.
Jesus with the light…
Hmm…
Then it came to me what she meant. I pulled up this image and showed it to her:
“Yes! That’s it!” She looked fondly at the picture.
My happiness turned to joy.
This picture has a special place in my heart as it was once an answer to prayer that I’ve remembered ever since.
When I was just returning to church, I attended a fireside one Sunday evening. I dragged Chris along with me. As he and I were walking around the church building halls before the meeting got started, we paused at the above picture, which is present in so many of our church buildings.
We both looked at it.
“Why do they look the same?” Chris asked.
Huh. I’d looked at this picture at least 346,000 times but never really realized or thought about it. They did look the same. I didn’t know the answer.
Chris shrugged and moved on. I was kind of annoyed I didn’t know the answer to a question I felt I should know. Or at the very least something I should have noticed in my 346,001 viewing of the painting.
We went into the fireside.
The speaker was introduced and he stood to speak. He powered on a projector and an image was displayed behind him.
Drum roll please.
You guessed it.
The image displayed was none other than the painting Chris and I had just been observing in the hall.
The speaker began, “Does anyone know why the figures in this image look so much alike?”
My head jerked to look at Chris next to me. Was he hearing this?!
I can’t remember why the speaker talked about this. It wasn’t a major point. It was something I think he assumed most of us knew (I didn’t!). He proceeded onto his main point that I can’t remember.
I was shocked.
Chris asked a question. We received an answer.
I considered this a miracle.
I think Chris shrugged and thought, ‘what a coincidence.’
I have joy today because I came back to church. I have joy today because I consider every day what Jesus Christ did for me yesterday, today, and tomorrow. I have joy today because Ivy and Sage say “Jesus!” every time they see an image of a long-haired man.
No Coincidences 