I Can Do Hard Things

I watched a BYU Devotional this morning by Dallan Moody. He talked about responding to trials in our lives by telling the story of one of his sons who came into this world with many challenges. Doctors told them to take their little son home and not to bring him back to the hospital because the doctors had done everything they could for him. He might live a few weeks, a few months, or with an outside miracle, up to two years. Brother Moody told of the many days and nights of service that their family and friends gave to that little boy before he returned home to Heavenly Father last month at the age of seven. Brother Moody thought it was a miracle that this beloved child lived for seven years, but a visiting General Authority told him, "You are being exhalted." Then he realized the real miracle was in what happened to himself, his wife, and his family because they had the opportunity of serving a special-needs child for those years.

As the mother of Cameron I agree. These special children are sent to us to exalt and teach us. I look at my children and husband and know that we are all better people because we have Cameron in our lives. Those of us who have grandchildren with special needs realize that they refine us, and their parents, our children, become better people because of the trials. I can do hard things. A Christian friend of mine who has great faith and insight once corrected my motto to say, "I can do hard things through Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior, who lifts me up." And I can--because He is there.

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 My Heart

janjimks: Matters of Heart: Matters of My Heart
I attended my second granddaughter's high-school graduatiion yesterday in Broomfield, Colorado. It was such a reminder that "time flies on wings of lightening; you cannot call it back!" It slips past without conscience.

Twenty-three years ago we welcomed our seventh child into this world. Cameron was a beautiful, eight-and-a-half-pound baby with a round face and fuzzy strawberry-blonde hair. When the midwife handed him to me, something in his face caused me to have a passing feeling that there was something...

A few hours later the pediatrician stood by my bed and kindly went over the signs that my sweet baby may have Down Syndrome. The eyes...the simian crease...the short fingers and small ears. He said we would not know for sure until we had a genetic screening, but I knew. The Asian doctor smiled. He himself surely had slanted eyes. He showed me his own simian crease. Like anyone, my first thoughts were, "Why me?" "Why me, who had never tasted alcohol, tobacco, or drugs?" "Why me who had never even known anyone with special needs?" "Why me, who has six brilliant, creative children?" Then, "Why NOT me?" "Why not our loving and faithful family?" "Why not?" I called my husband, who had just left the hospital and returned to our children. In his shock, he also searched for an answer. Our children worried and wondered how our lives would change...

We broke the news to family and friends over the next few days, and went on with our busy lives as if nothing had changed. Indeed, it had not. We were determined to have this baby be as "normal" as possible. I had no idea what the next few years would bring for our Cameron. What would it be like when he entered nursery at church, kindergarten? What would his elementary years be like? Junior high? High school? Life after that for this little boy who won the hearts of everyone who held him and looked into his blue eyes?

Here we are twenty three years later with a wagonload of memories that we would not trade for all the "normal" boys born those years ago. We always say Cam makes our lives "interesting," but it's really much more than that. Loving a child with special needs makes me a better person. I am more compassionate, patient, humble, self-aware, courageous, faithful, generous, and happy because twenty-three years ago God sent an angel. He wasn't the baby we ordered--he was so much more.

Education Matters: Monday Memo 5.16.2011

Every Monday I write a "motivational" message to the
staff at my school . Here is this week's message:

Dear Friends,

I think spring is finally here! Spring brings hope and happiness if we let it. Remember my globe willow tree that was caught up in a twister and wretched from the ground, snapped at the roots and flung into the corner of my back yard? My son cut the tree back and sawed the wood into logs, leaving a stump that he would later pull out. The stump never quite got hauled away, and now, nearly three years later, the tree is strong and growing again. It seems like a miracle that the tree could flourish after nature’s destruction! Nature often takes care of itself in that way. Have you been to Yellowstone Park following the massive forest fires wiped it out several years ago? It is fresh, beautiful, and new.

Every time a disaster enters our lives we need to remember that it may be a chance to start anew. We sometimes need a fresh start to learn and grow to be the best that we can be. A new grade assignment, a new school, a retirement, new students in the new year, new team members, a new idea: all make us better at what we do. Experience—new experience—is for our good. We can do hard things!

Whatever it takes, our kids are worth it! Have a great week. Do hard things. You are the best! Celebrate all the good things about spring!