Food Matters

Three young men, university students, from Korea spent the last month living in my home and student-teaching in my school. It was quite an experience. Jin, Jin-Ho, and Jason quickly fell in love with America—especially the food! They ate and ate and ate, but somehow stayed very thin. I guess that is what happens with 24-year-old men. I laughed when they took pictures of the food and oooo-ed and ahhhh-ed over everything we cooked for them. Of course, they LOVED Golden Corral and all the meat choices there.

Jin and Jason also loved the shopping. WalMart was a daily favorite along with the malls (especially the Outlet Mall in Park City) and COSTCO. America certainly is about retail!

All three boys (as Cameron called them) would have liked to stay in the United States. It became like home to them very quickly. What they expected to find in America was not necessarily what they actually found. They expected to find undisciplined chaos in the schools. They were surprised to learn that students are engaged and learning—disciplined with classroom-management strategies and positive-behavior reinforcement. They thought the children had a sweetness and a happiness that made them endearing. The BOYS also loved being part of our family. It must have seemed a little overwhelming to eat and play with our large, extended family at celebrations through the summer. They enjoyed the games, the laughter, and the food. Cookie salad was a hit.

When the boys had been gone for a couple of days, Cameron asked, “Mom, you miss the boys?” Yes. They became a little part of our hearts—besides, they loved my cooking and insisted I was a “hero” for fixing them yummy food. No one else seems to appreciate it that much. They will miss the food and family and school, and maybe we will be a little part of their hearts, too.

Matters of Strength

I had a conversation with a dear friend a couple of weeks ago. She was distressed over a particular hardship her family is challenged with. She said she sometimes gets angry with God that someone she loves has to go through such hard things, even if it strengthens all of them to be better people. I have been thinking about our conversation a lot lately as I watch those around me dealing with their struggles. Another friend almost lost her darling daughter who was giving birth and lost half her body's blood. She said she didn't know what she would do if anything happened to any of her children. The next day we welcomed our beautiful twentieth grandchild under perfect circumstances. Another of my friends prays for her youngest son who is fighting a brain tumor, his fourth bout with cancer, and awaits her husband's open-heart surgery in a couple of weeks.

All of us deal with trials, tragedies, suffering, and heartache. At this point in my life I am finally developing an eternal perspective. I look at my Cameron and know that he will be whole in the resurrection. He is who he is. Would I change him? I used to think people were lying if they said they would never change their special-needs child, but now I can see Cameron's mission in this life as a ministry to the rest of us. He makes us better people--all of us. I think of the song from My Turn on Earth, "You can never know the good if you've never known the bad; You can never be happy if you've never been sad. You have to know the bitter so that you can taste the sweet; You have to be hungry to be glad you can eat..."

If we could choose, most of us would never have anyone we love experience pain or loss. We would have all of our children be perfect--beautiful, brilliant, popular, happy, healthy, and untouched by broken marriages, lost jobs, or financial struggles. The funny thing is that none of us can become who God wants us to be if nothing in life causes us to stretch, question, search for answers, forgive, heal, and learn. I want the kind of strength that will make my children become the best they can be, and in order for them to do that, they will have scrapes and bruises along the way.

I remember the day my grandparents stopped by our house on the way home from Island Park to the disasterous news that my mother, their beautiful, 39-year-old daughter, had slipped from this life suddenly and unexpectedly. I remember their tears and their lamentations that no parents should ever have to bury a child. It was a hard time, but it was the start of a testimony-building time for all of us. We became stronger, better, and more faithful. It was not what any of us would have chosen. We have an eternal perspective that we are a family forever. Now my grandparents and my dad have joined my mother, and through the losses and pain I've come to understand better Heavenly Father's plan for me--and for my children and grandchildren. I can understand Cameron's purpose. I can understand a little more why it is important to learn through trials.

They say that if everyone hung his trails out on the clothesline, they would gather their own back in at the end of the day. "Teach me all that I must BE to live with Him someday."

THEY Matter

Rango is a strange little movie with a great lesson. On a vacation trip our little green gecko and his aquarium get bumped from the car, and Rango is left in the desert, not knowing what to do next. He meets a wise old armadillo who sends him on an adventure to find Dirt. “To find water, you must first find Dirt.” Rango tries to help the little town find water, but he becomes an accidental hero along the way. The expectations seem too overwhelming when he realizes he is up against some pretty tough characters. He is ready to give up when he meets the wise armadillo again. Rango argues that he cannot be the hero. It is too hard. (Maybe he has never heard of “I can do hard things!”) The armadillo argues, “It is not about you. It is about them.” So, Rango is inspired to go back and save the townspeople (if you can call rodents, reptiles, and varmints ‘people’!).



We sometimes find ourselves in circumstances that don’t really seem to fit us. We wonder what we are doing here. We think another job would be easier. I think we don’t land in education by accident. We look around and say, “What am I supposed to do here, in this situation?” It is not about us. It’s about them. We are going to make a difference to somebody. We can be someone’s hero. We can do hard things! Have a great week. I’m glad you landed here!

Matters of Pain

My husband is such a help to me that I am quite spoiled. We had a big weekend coming up last week when his back and leg practically crippled him. Saturday morning we were trying to put together salads and good food for the family party that was to follow our granddaughter's baptism. I wanted everything spruced and cleaned becaused our ex-son-in-law would be bringing his family, and his new wife's family would be joining us. The whole situation was a bit stressful, and Jim's indisposibility was frustrating. He hates to take medicine, but finally gave in to the pain, and I sent him in to get a couple of Alleve. I told him I had some in a baggie in my medicine box--little blue pills. I went about, preparing my talk and working on the party preparations. Everything went well. As the family gathered for lunch, however, I was quite irritated that Jim kept dozing off. I always tell him that he can sleep if he wants, but he must NOT look like he is asleep. He said the pills did not really help the pain that much. It was a frustration to try to entertain all these people without his attentions. Then, this morning I went to get him more Alleve and saw that the only blue pills in the baggie were Tylenol P.M.!!! (Now aren't you ashamed that you thought I was going to tell you about those other little blue pills?)

Have a wonderful, happy week! If you take little blue pills for what ails you, make sure you know what ailment you are treating.