when service makes the world a little brighter: hosting a playdate

I'm so excited to share today's post with you.

My long-time readers know that the holidays can be pretty sad for my family as we commemorate the death of my angel mother. It's impossible to go through Halloween without thinking of three days before in 2009, the day she went from apparent good health to collapsed in the hospital with only a few weeks to live. It's impossible to go through Thanksgiving without thinking of the last Thanksgiving we shared with her - it was one of the last days she was up in her wheelchair, and one of the last days she remembered who I was. On my birthday I think about how we buried my mother in a frozen cemetery the day before, how I had never felt less like a child and more like an adult. A few days later was the bleakest Christmas I have ever had.

That's why mormon.org's Christmas campaign is so beautiful this year. It's all about doing small but meaningful acts of service. When people reach out and help others, it lights up the entire world. Whether or not you share my religious beliefs, I think it's a message we can all agree on.

Nobody was better at service than my mom. When I was thinking about a small act of service to share with my readers today, I went through quite a few possibilities. Should I clean out my closet and donate the extra clothes? Should I volunteer at a homeless shelter? Make care packages for the military? Deliver cookies to some neighbors?

All of those are great ideas, but then I thought - What would my mom do?

She would host a play date.

We ALWAYS had somebody else's kids over at our house. My mom was so great at giving parents a break to go on a date or get work done or just take a nap. And she was so great at loving every single child she came across. The best way I know to keep my mom's legacy alive is to try and be like her.

Of course I'll never be as wonderful as my mom in a million years, but I thought - this is one thing I can do. I can host a play date. I can give parents a little break, and I can love these kiddos.

So I did. It was a small act of service, just a few hours on a Saturday morning, but I really loved it, and I think these sweet kids did too. And that's the great thing about service. It helps you, it helps the person being served, and it helps the world be a little brighter. And it went surprisingly well, considering there were eight children under the age of three running around my small apartment. ;)

To see more examples of my Savior Jesus Christ and the ways he served people, click here. For more information about the #LIGHTtheWORLD Christmas campaign (launches officially this Friday!) click here, or visit Mormon.org's Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram page. And press play below to see the video of our little play date.

Thank you to Mormon.org for partnering with Silver Lining to create this video and blog post today. The content and opinions expressed, as well as my belief in the power of service, is all my own.

blessing day

Over the weekend, our little twins were blessed at church. (If you're unfamiliar with Mormon lingo, blessed = christened. The whole congregation comes together while someone, usually the father, gives the child a name and a blessing on their life.)

The more I think about blessings, the more I think how beautiful it is when friends, family and fellow churchgoers all bow their heads in support and love for the new baby and their family. I kept looking around and thinking about everyone in that chapel who had helped me and my family during this crazy pregnancy and delivery. Sometimes it feels like we're all alone and far from home here in Arizona, but on Sunday, with friends and family who had come, it felt like home. It made me cry. And then of course I had to get up and share my testimony and cry about it some more in front of everyone. ;)

Sam gave two really amazing blessings, we gave lots of hugs to our family and friends, and we generally admired our twins in their cute white outfits. And that was that!

*Let the record show that Sam did not bless the babies with ridiculous things like the ability to fly or walk through walls, despite weeks of teasing me and leading me to believe otherwise. He also stuck to the names on their legal records, again despite weeks of teasing. Oh Sam.

 ^^My family who came down for the weekend. We loved every second of their visit. They even took all three kids one night so we could get some uninterrupted sleep. I slept for 10 hours straight, and then went out for a leisurely brunch with Sam. It was so amazing.

 ^^They still cuddle up like this every night when they sleep. All the heart eyes.

This last picture is my new favorite of our little family. We are crazy and sleep deprived, but we sure do like each other.

house guests and open houses

This week, Sam's mom has been visiting us. Guess what that means? Free babysitter! Date nights galore! I even took a nap the other day, and ran errands without a baby in tow. As it turns out, one can successfully make it in and out of the library in two minutes flat if one does not have a baby to buckle, unbuckle, and carry. Claire has been so spoiled this week with constant attention from her grandma. And I mean constant. When Grandma took a shower this morning, Claire literally sat outside the bathroom door the whole time, waiting to be played with some more. :) It's going to be one sad day for all of us when Grandma has to go home!

We were able to reserve Payson temple open house tickets at the last minute. You guys. It's a gigantic temple, and so beautiful. It was crowded when we went, but still worth it! Basically I walked through the whole thing with my jaw hanging open. So many incredibly beautiful details. And colors! I loved all the floral prints and dark wood paneling. (To learn more about LDS temples or get tickets to tour the Payson temple while it's still open to the public, click here.) We started calling the Great and Spacious Temple.

 Look! I found Sierra!

And on the way home, we stopped at Cafe Rio for dinner. It's really hard to have a bad evening when Cafe Rio is involved.

when in Salt Lake

Lately, I've been taking every chance I have to spend time with my family. I think it's because I'm moving away soon, and it makes me sad to think I'll be 700 miles away from them. Or maybe because they're the only ones who see how weird I am, and they have no choice but to stick with me anyway! ;)

Whatever the reason, I had the most wonderful girls night last week! Krysti got tickets to the Women's Meeting, and all the girls went (except Meghan and Ellie, whom we dearly missed!). We even had a cousin, an aunt, and a grandma come too. 

Our first stop was The Garden in the Joseph Smith Memorial Building. I had never been there, and it was so delicious! Such a fun atmosphere too, with the uncovered roof and the most delicious raspberry chicken salad and hot bread. Already dreaming of eating that bread again.

^^Such a fun atmosphere with the retractable open roof and the festive decorations.

And talk about a view out the window!

Then we took some pictures on the way to Women's Meeting. The weather was gorgeous, and I have some pretty photogenic family members, if I do say so myself. 

The Women's Meeting was wonderful. It left me feeling inspired to try a little harder to be a little better. Here is one of my favorite quotes from the evening:

"Let us help build the kingdom of God by standing up boldly and being defenders of marriage, parenthood and the home." Bonnie Oscarson

On the way home, we ran into some pretty epic traffic, which calls for one thing - a pretty epic car dance party! I sure love these women. Thank you Krysti for putting the evening together! 

little brother all grown up and going to COLOMBIA!

This week, my little brother got his mission call. 

*quick note about mission calls: in the LDS church, young men (and many young women) choose to give two years to missionary service. They put school, jobs, their personal life, and everything else on hold to travel to any one location around the world. They do not choose where they go. They are not compensated with money, college credit, or anything else. They spend every day serving others and telling them what true happiness is all about. To learn more, go to mormon.org or email me.

The post office called in the morning ("what appears to be a missionary call has arrived at our office. Would you like us to hold it here or deliver it with the regular mail today?"). Just like that, cupcakes were made, the globe was brought out, family came over and long-distance relatives were facetimed. 

And then he opened it. And there was much rejoicing. Barranquilla, Colombia!

I'm proud of that kid brother of mine. Way to go, John! And thats three for three brothers called to South America for their mission.

Three cheers for missionaries!

Do you know an LDS missionary?

And who can tell me anything about Colombia?

what matters most

This time of year can get really hard for my family. Lots of memories, the best and the worst. I don't think I want to say any more about it right now, but yesterday I asked Sam if we could just have a quiet evening at home. We turned on the lamps and burned our favorite candle (yes, my favorite candle is from Walmart. It smells like winter, but happy.). He worked on his model football stadium, and I read my book. There were so many good things to come out of that October, and I don't want to miss a single happy memory this year.

Happy Sunday. Let's all be a little kinder, work a little more diligently, and remember what matters most.

general conference swagger

This weekend was full of general conference (my favorite).

We spent Sunday at my family's house. Everyone brought friends, and we all squished in the basement, and Krysti fed us gigantic meals every 3 hours, and is there really any better way to do it?

{In other news, I'm way jealous of my little brother's Mickey Mouse watch. What kind of 10-year-old has that kind of swag?}

Happy Monday!

I'm off to a 3-day week and then FALL BREAK!

What are you up to this week?

And if you watched conference, wasn't it the best?

Mormon Missonaries

I'm a Mormon. {Ha. You know you're off to a good start when you accidentally type "I'm a Moron." Here we go, people.}

In our Church, young men volunteer to do full-time unpaid missionary service for two years. Most young men go when they're 19 years old, placing college and vocational careers on hold. They have no say in where they go, but they go willingly, because that's the caliber of young men that go on missions. Young women may go as well, when they're 21.

My brother is on a mission in Uruguay right now. Missionaries get to email home once a week, and they get to call home on Christmas and Mother's Day.

Yesterday we got to Skype with Covey, or Hermano Wilson, as he is called down there. We all squished around the laptop and talked face to face with him.

He showed us the best way to carry your backpack to lessen the chance of getting mugged, and so you can quickly swing if off your shoulder and use it to fend off attacking dogs.

He couldn't believe how much McKay's voice had changed, or how tall he had gotten.

He told Sam and I he wants sobrinos by the time he came home.

At the end of his allotted hour, we knelt down as a family and said a prayer. It was such a tender moment. Even though we're halfway across the world, our family was as close as it's ever been during that prayer.

I believe in Mormon missionaries. I believe in the good they do for strangers. I believe in the message of truth and comfort that they preach about. And I believe in the blessings that come from their sacrifice.

P.S. To learn more about my church, go here.

P.P.S. To read Covey's crazy missionary adventures, go here. Last week he ate cow bladder paste??

P.P.S. This post wasn't officially endorsed by the Church. It's just an experience I wanted to share.

Easter Sunday

Bunnies and candy and fancy dinners are nice, but this is the real reason I celebrate Easter.

He lives, and He loves me. 

I'm making that count by spending the day with those I love the most, and remembering what this special day really means.

What does Easter mean to you? Share your thoughts here. Happy Easter!

love letter

Sam teased me about blogging tonight. I hate to admit he was right, but I could hardly start packing without wasting time first. So here's the post {and he was right}:

Dear Mr. Almost-Husband,


Thank you for taking me to the temple today. It was the best thing we've done together so far. Let's go again soon. Like, how does your Saturday look?


xo,


B

To the fullest

I went to my best friend’s wedding today, and remembered what it’s all about.

Having a pretty dress on your wedding day is nice.

Flowers and cake and bridesmaids are nice too.

But what it’s really about is this –

Sam and I are getting married in this temple seven Saturdays from now.

You see, we always want to be with each other. Growing old together and spending the rest of our lives together just isn’t enough for us. We want more.

So we decided to be sealed in a holy temple. This way, we can be together forever. Forever. Past death, past separation, past time, towards eternity’s bright light.

That way, when Sam and I walk out of the temple hand in hand, we’ll be the happiest we can be, knowing that we get to be together forever.

That’s what Katie and Nick’s absolute joy told me today. I know it’s true, and I’ve wanted it since I was a little girl. Now, I get to be a big girl and see those dreams come true. It’s the biggest blessing in my life.

Also, watch this video. I can't get enough of these ideas lately.

P.S. As soon as I have pictures, I’ll write more about the wonderful Allred wedding :)

The Daughter of Jairus

Fun fact: I like to go to museums. And I like to go by myself.

Right now at the BYU museum, they have a Carl Bloch exhibit.

This picture, called “The Daughter of Jairus,” made me cry. Right there in the middle of an eighth grade field trip, I cried. It’s such a beautiful painting.

{This tiny picture is no good at all. You have to see it in person}

To quickly sum up the painting, the daughter is dead, the mother is crying, and Jesus stands at the door, about to enter and raise the daughter from the dead.

Why it made me cry:

Christ is here.

He’s here!

No more waiting. No more sorrow. No more death.

He’s not far away, He’s not late, He’s not busy.

He’s here.

And He's here to heal me.

And you too.

Merry Christmas everyone. Christ is here.

Every Moment

Today, I’m thinking about this time last year. I can’t help it. It’s inseparable to me now.

I’m grateful for so many things.

I’m grateful for hospital nurses who pretended they couldn’t count to two so we could ignore the swine flu rule and overflow mom’s hospital room with people.

I’m grateful for my family, who understands that people are always more important than money or things. Examples: when we ripped out the built-in desk without a second thought to make room for mom. When various relatives paid tons of money for airplane tickets to come help us. And when we bought that huge ugly transport van, because “even if she only rides in it once, you can’t put a price on her freedom,” according to dad.

I’m grateful for the flowers that overflowed the counter, and for the tender cards which we strung up in rows. Mom could never read those cards, but that wasn’t the point.

I’m grateful for the sanctity of midnight watches. It was peaceful, sitting there in the middle of the night with the Christmas lights shining through the window and the soft blue chair rocking you. Listening to mom snore; each breath one more blessing, one added moment granted to our shared existence.

I’m grateful for the pure voices of forty primary children piercing the despair that cold, bright Sunday. Standing on the frozen lawn, singing through the window, they were a choir of angels.

I’m grateful for the funny moments. All the code brown jokes, the nights we got two dinners and scrambled to hide the evidence when dinner #2 showed up, the hoyer, the lunch fairy, mom making jokes about her paralyzed left half, the bamboo catching on fire, the cleansing of the shire (aka when dad went crazy with the borrowed dumpster), mom making jokes about how hot tamales give you cancer and since it was too late for that we better let her eat as many as she wanted.

I’m grateful for family and roommates and friends and surrogate mothers and elementary school teachers and even acquaintances that Heavenly Father placed in my path. They still haven’t given up on me.

I’m grateful that the last thing my mom said to me was “I love you.” Even later, when she could no longer talk or remember who I was, when I said “I love you” she squeezed my hand, and I know what that meant. I’ve never doubted that my mother loves me. That’s a blessing so many aren’t privileged to claim.

I’m grateful for pictures, and cedar boxes, and voice recordings, and necklaces that remind me my mom is never far away.

I’m grateful for the angels that watched over our house, gave me strength to get out of bed each morning, and courage to return to it each night.

Most of all, though, I’m remembering all those nights when I laid in bed and sobbed, the cannon sobs that hurt so bad, and I remember thinking no pain could exceed my pain, and that I was going to hit rock bottom. But I never did, and I never will, because my Savior Jesus Christ hit rock bottom for me, so I don’t have to. He died for me, so my pain and my grief would have an end. More than anything, I’m grateful today for the Atonement and for my Redeemer who made it possible for me to overcome everything and be with my mom for eternity.

Happy Thanksgiving. I hope you find occasion to feel as grateful as I do today.

No Longer a Chore

This week, I prayed for a service opportunity to present itself every day.

They did! It was amazing.

Out of the blue, these little thoughts would enter my head. And they weren’t from me.

One day I walked home a different way from campus, and ran into someone who needed a friend.

When I was in Alpine this week, I had the thought to jump on the tramp and read Wayside Stories with the chicklets, like old times. We were able to have bonding time, and talk about mom, and dad, and life, in good ways {those poor children; they’re way older than other kids their age}.

One day, my service was anonymous. Being sneaky for good reasons is so much fun.

Except Friday… not sure what I did for anyone on Friday. Hopefully I at least waved and smiled to someone that needed it?

It was rewarding to be an instrument in the Lord’s hands. His plan for me is way more beautiful and complete than any plans I ever have for myself.

"No matter what circumstances you experience, your influence can be marvelously far-reaching. I believe some of you have a tendency to underestimate your profound capacity for blessing the lives of others. More often than not, it is not on the stage with some public pronouncement but in your example of righteousness and the countless gentle acts of love and kindness done so willingly, so often on a one-to-one basis."

~James E. Faust