We were so glad to see you. We love you so much, we even came outside in our pajamas for hugs. We are sorry your car got wrecked in Phoenix. That’s the #1 place for traffic and all things awful for travel.
Thanks for wrestling the boys during all the rehearsals and providing a sugar wonderland in our lives. We are thinking you must have fed Sparky something good, too. He doesn’t try to stow away in just anyone’s car.
We are so glad you came.
Love,
The Richard Rosses
Friday I offered a prayer at our annual homeschool club Christmas party. One prayer request came from a friend who simply wanted us to pray as a group for an undisclosed need. And we did.
I’ve been thinking about that request. We all have private struggles and challenges, and many try to face them alone. One thing I have learned (and love) about my Christian friends is that they openly express needs and pray for one another. I find my own troubles tiresome and my mind wanders when I pray only for myself. This year, I have seen friends and family struggle with illnesses, death, and other challenges. I have felt powerless and worried, but when I prayed, I felt like THIS act was the best service I could give for problems that were just too big for me. Learning to transform my useless worry into meaningful prayer has been a common theme in 2009.
I’m grateful for the love that naturally grows as I pray for someone and the miracles of healing and comfort that have come this year from a loving Father in Heaven.
Paige did a lovely job and we are so proud of her. We hope you enjoyed the photos.
Lately, I’ve been thinking about the value we place on certain things. I don’t think of my time in terms of money. I don’t have a paycheck, so it seems silly to do it. However, if someone talks loudly during one of my violin performances, the time I took to practice and prepare seems wasted and I feel undervalued. I’ve been thinking about value in terms of time management. How should I best spend this next half hour? Should I attend to my writing or should I do the dishes and prepare for company tomorrow? Tonight the sorting and ordering of my thoughts is more valuable.
Time is the currency we use to show what we most value. Some people receive a paycheck for their time; others find other means of assigning value. I like tangible proof that I existed. I don’t have pay stubs, but I keep charts and journals and blogs and I publish my children’s work in a local newsletter every month.
Since writing the title of this post, I’ve veered from course a little. But I want to share my funny story to introduce my final point.
There was a Louis Vuitton purse in my mom’s closet in the 90’s. I think it was a hand-me-down from Aunt Susan. Mom didn’t like the purse, and let me have it. I was looking for a bag that could carry diapers without looking like a diaper bag. I had seen the logo before and figured it must be popular. After carrying it around town for a while, this cavernous purse with no lining or pockets didn’t suit my needs. And it really wasn’t very attractive.
So I donated it to charity along with some worn out clothes.
Later, I learned the “value” of the bag I had thrown away. I felt sorry that I hadn’t realized what the bag had cost; but then I felt silly for worrying about what value the world has placed on an ugly purse with some initials on it.
On a personal level, I’ve learned that feeling valuable is something that shouldn’t be measured by what others think. Being valuable and feeling valued by others are not always going to coincide…Just something to think about as you google the price of a Louis Vuitton bag…
There’s a lot to do; Things that we’re expected to do because it’s Christmas time. There are 4 food drives that I am aware of this week for different groups to which I belong. There are performances and craft activities; dinners to attend and cards to address. I’m still waiting for that Christmas inspiration to ring in my mind, telling me what I need to do to make this Christmas special for our family this year.
I’m pretty sure that special “something” won’t be anything spectacular or expensive.
One year the “thing” was to help purchase a musical instrument for someone.
Another year, it was to sit in at a Mormon Tabernacle Choir rehearsal on Temple Square. That seems like a long time ago.
One year I went into labor in the midst of over 100 donated Christmas gifts and didn’t make it to the hospital in time to deliver. It’s taken nearly 7 years for me to say, “Boy, that was special.” But really, it was, even then. I held my baby extra close that Christmas and the donated gifts made it to their families. And it was unforgettable; A Mary and Joseph moment, even.
Some years, the special “thing” has been to visit our parents. This is the third year my parents are on their mission, so no Spring Lake Christmas for us this year. We may hop in the car after Christmas and visit someone. Who knows? I certainly don’t.
Christmas is saturated with expectations. I don’t care who you are. You just expect to feel a certain way at some point. I am hoping that I haven’t missed an opportunity help create a memorable Christmas for my family with my indecision and busy-ness.
The tree is up and we are healthy. We are thriving. This year, it may not be one “thing” that defines our Christmas. It may be the memory of a summation of warm feelings and peace. But I’d like it to be more. I’d like an element of sacrifice.
The first Christmas gift I gave Richard was a copy of O Henry’s The Gift of the Magi. It sums up my Christmas expectation: The best gifts are those that require sacrifice. And finding the right sacrifice seems more tricky to me when there’s money in the bank. From my abundance, I wish to give until I feel a lack. And I want to teach that to my children. This doesn’t mean that I believe in spending all the savings. It means sacrificing self to make someone else happy.
There’s the rote answer, “Time is the best gift.” I’m looking for something beyond that. I’m looking for something requiring an element of myself that only I can give, which requires more than time or money.
And in the writing of this, I think I have found my answer.
I’ll keep it my little secret for now. Merry Christmas.
Today was the day we finished making our own hovercraft. I’ve been holding on to this idea since college.
Here are some photos of our process today. We tried all of this yesterday but it failed. Today was try #2 so we were professionals (and true scientists).
Sir Isaac Newton would be proud.
Well, we did it. After almost 15 years, we have finally purchased a sofa for our family room. It’s big and everyone will have a place to sit. It also comes with an ottoman so we can all put our feet up. And no more fights over who gets to sit in the red chair. It’s a good move for peace.
I gave Paige and Daniel the assignment to read about our Mayflower ancestors last week. We’re descendants of Mary Chilton and Richard Warren, who were passengers on the Mayflower. Mary was orphaned at age 13 when her parents died within a week of each other after landing at Plymouth. She later married Mr. Warren John Winslow who arrived in Plymouth in 1621.
I have been thinking about those ancestors all day. The Chiltons were Separatists who had fled from persecution in England to live in Holland. Although they were financially better off in Holland and were able to exercise their religion in peace, they were troubled by the worldly influences around them, such as a lax sabbath day observance and also some cultural differences. These parents were concerned about their children. They were concerned that the principles for which they had left their homeland were being watered down in the environment in which they now lived.
Mary’s parents died in what I believe to be a heroic struggle to maintain purity in the next generation.
Paige is writing a report about this young girl, Mary Chilton, who was orphaned in the new land. Will Paige be able to see a pattern in conviction and courage carried through the generations to her own family? I want so much for her and the boys to drink in this heritage of strength and fearlessness. I have seen it in my parents and grandparents: Strength to be different; Strength to stand alone and follow through with what they feel inspired to do. Our ancestors were fearless in being counted with the Separatists, driven from England, and later the Mormons, driven from the eastern United States. I see the same fearless strength today in my parents who are missionaries; and I’ve seen it in my grandparents who have made a difference by their service and faith.
I hope we’re doing enough to see that this courageous pattern is carried on in the next generation. Learning about these ancestors makes my decisions seem easy and my burdens light in comparison. However, this doesn’t mean I believe the battle is of lesser importance. The same enemy fights against good and it’s still the children for whom we struggle to preserve. And the enemy is insidious and permeates our culture so blatantly that I find myself shocked all the time at what I have just seen or heard.
I’m feeling a little more empowered by this new knowledge of our roots. As I said before, I hope Paige feels the same through her study of these ancestors.
