Category: Life according to Angela

Remembering

These were my grandmother’s books. On this anniversary of her death, I have been looking at photos I took of little corners throughout her home. I can still find her wisdom and her voice folded away like a sachet that sometimes gets jostled and leaves a subtle scent. She was so good at imparting family stories, gifting us with a sense of who we came from.

In 2018, I overheard her telling my mom about her father Axel’s passing. Assigned to the shift that night was a nurse who could speak his native language, Swedish. The nurse was not just able to speak words of comfort, but do it in the language of his parents and childhood. She spoke to him, quietly and tenderly, easing his fears during his final hours.

My parents and my aunt were with my grandmother on her last night. They told me that they read to her from the book of my dad’s childhood memories. I don’t know what she heard or understood, but I am glad that there were words of comfort and memory in the room for her, too.

Know as I am Known

I read about a group of blind patients who received an experimental surgical procedure to have their sight restored. The results were the gift of vision, which you would think would be positive. Yet, the longer a patient had been blind, the less likely they were to be initially happy with the sudden ability to see. Distances, physical features, complexity of patterns, and relative heights were not anything like they imagined before they could see. One patient kept their eyes closed for days, as everything seemed like too much to process. Another was driven to insanity. One begged to have a reversal of the operation so they could experience things the old way once again. Children were much more open to a change in vision and lifestyle. They weren’t as burdened with habits and perceptions that stood in the way of a new life.

This story made me understand that it is a gift not to know all things just yet.

To me, the concept of faith is a gift. We are here to act according to our best and purest beliefs, without absolute knowledge. We get to live freely and fully, and as unencumbered as faith in Jesus Christ can make us.

Another gift is that we arrive gradually at stunning truths and principles that will require a lot from us. We have time to figure things out, and have the luxury to fail and try again. We build our capacity for knowledge as we do simple things day after day, week after week, year after year. Sometimes faith requires us to make a “leap,” but more often, it requires small, routine steps. When my personal faith feels shaky, it is usually because the little faithful acts aren’t being done, or they are being done without humility.

So, what is my reaction when smacked by something from church that doesn’t match my ideas of just or right or true? Can I curb the impulse to form fists, dig in heels, and let indignation grow? Can I summon the faith of a child during times when I need to show humility, not defiance?

I want my journey of faith to be like throwing off the blindfold and walking towards the blinding light of difficulty, and facing the challenges to my own way of thinking. I don’t want to shrink, abandoning the Way for my own path. In forty years of Church membership, I have navigated lots of things that prove that “[Our] thoughts are not [God’s] thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:8)

I chose the path of God’s mercy and grace when I was baptized, and it has been a blessing to live in a covenant relationship with Him. I want to be one who keeps looking at something until I can comprehend it. I know that I “see through a glass darkly,” but I “shall know, as also I am known.” (1 Corinthians 13:12)

Faith leads to knowledge. Knowledge of what? All things. God himself.

67 And if your eye be single to my glory, your whole bodies shall be filled with light, and there shall be no darkness in you; and that body which is filled with light comprehendeth all things.

68 Therefore, sanctify yourselves that your minds become single to God, and the days will come that you shall see him; for he will unveil his face unto you, and it shall be in his own time, and in his own way, and according to his own will.

Doctrine and Covenants 88:67-68

No lentil soup?!!

We celebrated Richard’s birthday this weekend with all the good things. He is definitely worth celebrating. We had so much fun that I *think* he will forget that I neglected to buy a key ingredient for his birthday meal so it had to be postponed. Also, I sewed him a minky winter hat which turned out to be too small for his sweet head. Really, though, in memory, the wins should outlive the fails. I hope.

A very fun dinner in an Alpenglobe in Midway
Paige attended her new ward and discovered one of her youth leaders from Arizona is a ward member there. I call that a miracle

Hellooooo out there

A photo from my first blog post in 2009. Tim and Mark were enjoying cupcakes in our yard in Arizona.

It takes time and dedication to maintain a blog, and I’ve been doing this for nearly 14 years.

Reasons I enjoy writing the blog:

  • It has proven to be a good record of family life.
  • It is a place to develop ideas.
  • It is a place to express some creativity and sharpen my writing.
  • It gives some validation for my life.

Things that are difficult about it:

  • It is a one-sided conversation, whether I allow comments or not, and sometimes this heightens my feelings of isolation.
  • Most of our kids are out of the house, so its focus has shifted from our adventures to my thoughts. (Scary.)
  • Some of the most important people in my life no longer read it. (Ouch.)
  • I am growing more private about my thoughts.

When life changes so fundamentally as it has for us during the past few years, the old routines need to change. This blog has been my longtime playground and I would like to find a way to enjoy it again in new ways.

Love,

A

Best wishes to our girl

Paige and Michael drove away this morning to live in a new state with all our best wishes and love. She has lived away from home for nearly 8 years, but seeing her room without furniture feels like a final toll of a bell. Today they face a fresh beginning while perhaps we see more evidence of an ending. It is a good, terrible day.

Good job, all of us.

Surprise!

For my Christmas gift, Richard secured a ticket to an Itzhak Perlman concert that was supposed to be tonight. There weren’t two seats available, just one, so he bought the ticket for me. He also insisted on driving me to and from the concert, despite not being able to attend. I filled my pockets with tissues so I could cry as I heard Mr. Perlman play the violin.

But I didn’t meet my violin hero tonight; I met a religious hero instead.

There were a few of us who didn’t get the memo that the concert had been rescheduled, and we congregated at the doors of the music hall in our fine clothes, each showing disbelief in our own way. One of the people was Jean Bingham, former Relief Society General President. Her presence is beautiful and so bright. My interaction with her made me feel that the night wasn’t a loss.

This is my favorite image of Sister Bingham during her presidency. It shows her cheering for missionaries who came home during the early days of 2020. She was a light to me during this confusing time, and I took this screenshot to remember the impact she made on my heart and mind. In many instances, she showed she was a worthy hero during the pandemic.

Thinking is work

So wrapped up in my thoughts, I misread the clock yesterday and made dinner very early. With my extra evening hours, I redecorated the shelves to embrace February, ready or not.

It is ward conference season and I am thinking a lot about my stake speaking assignments and ministering to very different needs among the wards. I am thinking about Paige and Michael’s move, and I am on the hunt for all the places I can display Paige’s art. Thinking is work. Writing talks and lesson plans is work. Planning is work, and so is settling into a new reality. When I accomplish something tangible, like cleaning out a closet or desk, I call it a nice break from the more arduous and intangible work going on within. Thinking is work.

Winter nest

It is winter proper; cold weather, such as it is, has come to stay. I bloom indoors in winter like a forced forsythia; I come in to come out. At night I read and write, and things I never understood become clear; I reap the harvest of the rest of the year’s planting.

Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

This was a paragraph that I read today and continue to think about. I, too, like the winter habits of reading, being still, thinking, and writing. I can flourish in dark winter as long as I have reminders that I have friends out there.

This afternoon I hung a very large magnetic board to display handwritten notes and some art. You’re right, it isn’t arranged very well yet, but we’re on our way to something good.