Morning prayer, a little writing in my journal, read and liken a few verses out of the Book of Mormon to myself, a few minutes in some recovery literature along with some writing, plan my food for the day, and a call to my sponsor – that’s how most of my mornings begin. Last week after coming home from the 12:00 pm support meeting I stood at the kitchen sink putting my lunch together and making three outreach calls to other people working to apply the 12 Steps to their individual struggle.
As I hung up the phone and sat down to the lunch I’d committed to my sponsor in the morning I thought about all the tools of recovery I had used before lunch, and a little saying marched through my mind that made me smile: “These are the tools of the trade, Nannette.” The trade? That’s absolutely right! In recovery we trade our relationship with a substance or a behavior for a relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ. The tools of recovery or “the dailies” as they are affectionately call are a wonderful gift. They are the tools of the best trade I’ve ever made!
By Nannette W.
Posted Monday, January 19, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W.
All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Monday, January 19, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
Humility Bridges the Gap – Step 12 Carrying the Message
My Relief Society experience began back in the olden days before we began our study of the teachings of modern day prophets. We rotated between these subjects: Spiritual Living, Cultural Refinement, and Mother Education. I spent quite a few years being the Mother Education teacher. Having the opportunity to study each month about motherhood was a great blessing, but this assignment had its challenges. I taught one Sunday each month. Without fail the morning I was to teach Mother Education always turned out to be the worst “get five children ready for church and out the door without loosing the Spirit” experience of the month. By the time we were all seated in Sacrament Meeting my feelings about the joys of motherhood were definitely in question and I certainly did not feel qualified to teach a lesson on some lofty quality of good mothering. The double whammy came when the Mother Education lesson and Mother’s Day fell on the same Sunday, which it invariably did.
Every month as I went in to teach a lesson on the most important work I was involved in, I was invited by Satan to feel humiliation because my kids were kids and because I was in the process of learning how to be a great mother and hadn’t quite arrived. As I sat in Sacrament Meeting, in the light of the Spirit, my humiliation would slowly turn towards humility. The Spirit would whisper to me that my morning and my week of mothering had probably been very much like the mornings of all those I would teach. We are not so very different from each other. In that Spirit I could teach. In that Spirit I could feel the love of the Lord for those I taught. I could feel His concern. I wasn’t all wrapped up in weather or not I had mastered the subject at hand. I could share my experience, what seemed to work and what didn’t. Others felt free to share their triumphs and even their failures. There was a feeling of “We’re all in this together.” And more important, there was an atmosphere of humble testimony that none of us could do this work without the enabling power or grace of Jesus Christ.
We will be called to teach in areas where we have struggled. We can be powerful teachers if our experience has brought us past humiliation to a place of humility before the Lord and before our brothers and sisters. The experience, faith, and hope we have to offer will be genuine because it will have grown out of the fire of experience. In humility we can demonstrate the before and the after. We can stand as witnesses, not of ourselves but of the power of God to transform. That is the testimony the world waits to hear. Humility bridges the gap between the truth we teach and the truth we try to live.
By Nannette W.
Posted Friday, January 16, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W.
All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Every month as I went in to teach a lesson on the most important work I was involved in, I was invited by Satan to feel humiliation because my kids were kids and because I was in the process of learning how to be a great mother and hadn’t quite arrived. As I sat in Sacrament Meeting, in the light of the Spirit, my humiliation would slowly turn towards humility. The Spirit would whisper to me that my morning and my week of mothering had probably been very much like the mornings of all those I would teach. We are not so very different from each other. In that Spirit I could teach. In that Spirit I could feel the love of the Lord for those I taught. I could feel His concern. I wasn’t all wrapped up in weather or not I had mastered the subject at hand. I could share my experience, what seemed to work and what didn’t. Others felt free to share their triumphs and even their failures. There was a feeling of “We’re all in this together.” And more important, there was an atmosphere of humble testimony that none of us could do this work without the enabling power or grace of Jesus Christ.
We will be called to teach in areas where we have struggled. We can be powerful teachers if our experience has brought us past humiliation to a place of humility before the Lord and before our brothers and sisters. The experience, faith, and hope we have to offer will be genuine because it will have grown out of the fire of experience. In humility we can demonstrate the before and the after. We can stand as witnesses, not of ourselves but of the power of God to transform. That is the testimony the world waits to hear. Humility bridges the gap between the truth we teach and the truth we try to live.
By Nannette W.
Posted Friday, January 16, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W.
All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Let’s Buckle Up and Enjoy the Ride! – Step 3
Here’s a paradox. We often become involved in destructive behavior in the name of personal freedom. Then to our dismay, this sign of our independence actually leads to bondage.
It is also a paradox that the only way to become truly free is to become truly submissive. Those who have practiced this manner of living have discovered the following reality – “The more we become willing to depend upon a Higher Power, the more independent we actually are. Therefore dependence [as we practice it in applying the 12 Steps to our lives] is really a means of gaining true independence of the spirit” (Alcoholics Anonymous Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions Page 36).
I was thinking about these curious truths the other day when a picture came to my mind. It was the picture of my children strapping all their children into car seats every Sunday night after our big family dinner. Most of the time the kids are very cooperative but every once in awhile one of them goes through a phase that is very frustrating. I’ve seen the babies arch their backs, kick and scream, and resist being secured in the car seat with all the strength they can muster. I watch as the parents patiently work with their out-of- control little one, finally getting them strapped into the seat and the seat strapped into the car. It’s exhausting!
Sometimes I’m like a fit throwing, car seat resistant child in relation to God. The Lord promises me that if I will submit to Him I will be free from every type of bondage. Then He will be free to take me and transport me back to the arms of my Heavenly Father. I want so badly for the Lord to orchestrate my life for good. I want Him to help me go and do all that He would have me do. I sing “I’ll Go Where You Want Me To Go Dear Lord” with gusto. But sometimes I refuse to get in the car seat. I’m finding that if I’m not buckled up we’re not going anywhere.
For me the car seat represents yielding to the loving parameters the Lord sets for me. I do this by submitting to those things that secure my safety - like daily prayer and scripture, abstaining from compulsive addictive behavior, attending my meetings, attending the temple, working through the 12 Steps and supporting others in the process etc. Today I feel like I am strapped in pretty tight and I testify that I have never felt more free! When I start to resist I say to myself, “Nannette, relax and allow Him to make you secure. Allow Jesus Christ to be the driver, the director. Allow Him to be the vehicle and proceed by His power. That’s real freedom!”
Divine Security, Direction and Power! It’s this combination that allows the Lord the take us any place we need to go. So Let’s Buckle Up and Enjoy the Ride!
By Nannette W.
Posted Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W.
All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
It is also a paradox that the only way to become truly free is to become truly submissive. Those who have practiced this manner of living have discovered the following reality – “The more we become willing to depend upon a Higher Power, the more independent we actually are. Therefore dependence [as we practice it in applying the 12 Steps to our lives] is really a means of gaining true independence of the spirit” (Alcoholics Anonymous Twelve Steps and Twelve Traditions Page 36).
I was thinking about these curious truths the other day when a picture came to my mind. It was the picture of my children strapping all their children into car seats every Sunday night after our big family dinner. Most of the time the kids are very cooperative but every once in awhile one of them goes through a phase that is very frustrating. I’ve seen the babies arch their backs, kick and scream, and resist being secured in the car seat with all the strength they can muster. I watch as the parents patiently work with their out-of- control little one, finally getting them strapped into the seat and the seat strapped into the car. It’s exhausting!
Sometimes I’m like a fit throwing, car seat resistant child in relation to God. The Lord promises me that if I will submit to Him I will be free from every type of bondage. Then He will be free to take me and transport me back to the arms of my Heavenly Father. I want so badly for the Lord to orchestrate my life for good. I want Him to help me go and do all that He would have me do. I sing “I’ll Go Where You Want Me To Go Dear Lord” with gusto. But sometimes I refuse to get in the car seat. I’m finding that if I’m not buckled up we’re not going anywhere.
For me the car seat represents yielding to the loving parameters the Lord sets for me. I do this by submitting to those things that secure my safety - like daily prayer and scripture, abstaining from compulsive addictive behavior, attending my meetings, attending the temple, working through the 12 Steps and supporting others in the process etc. Today I feel like I am strapped in pretty tight and I testify that I have never felt more free! When I start to resist I say to myself, “Nannette, relax and allow Him to make you secure. Allow Jesus Christ to be the driver, the director. Allow Him to be the vehicle and proceed by His power. That’s real freedom!”
Divine Security, Direction and Power! It’s this combination that allows the Lord the take us any place we need to go. So Let’s Buckle Up and Enjoy the Ride!
By Nannette W.
Posted Wednesday, January 14, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W.
All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Monday, January 12, 2009
Family Support – Give It Time!
Early in my application of the 12 Steps I admitted to my spouse and children that I was working on changing some things about myself. I let them know that I was not only going to work on my compulsive overeating, I was also going to work on my perfectionism. Becoming honest about our own imperfections and struggles and practicing the principles of recovery in the open, in front of our children, spouses, parents, siblings, and friends is a challenge.
First, it is tempting to others to use our weaknesses and our honesty about weaknesses as an opportunity for manipulation. Here’s a little example: One day I requested that my child clean his or her room (I’ll let this child remain anonymous). To my utter amazement, in retaliation, I was reminded by the child that, “You’re just a perfectionist mom! You should see my friends’ rooms!” I was accused of acting out on an obsessive desire to have a clean house because I asked a teenager to clean up.
The reality of addiction, the discomfort of withdrawal, coming to understand that we can’t fix each other, coupled with a new honesty in the house makes for an environment where any of us might seize the opportunity to throw recovery in the face of another instead of working on our own.
Second, sometimes in a family setting, with recovery on the front burner, hard things are pointed out to us, not to manipulate, but because they’re true. I find that if I am honest, open minded and willing to listen, those who are truthful with me can be truly helpful. Here’s an example: The other day I was on the phone with someone who needed to talk to me as soon as possible. I was on my way out the door to go to a meeting. I told the woman I would be home about 1:15 pm and I would give her a call. My husband overheard the conversation. When I hung up he said, “Why do you do that?” “Why do I do what?” I responded. “Why do you tell her you’ll be home at 1:15 when you’re never home until after 1:30.” In my perfectionism and my desire to please people I chronically make appointments I can’t possibly make on time. It’s crazy I know. Well, I was tempted to be defensive with my husband and his observation. But instead, and “in recovery” I said, “Your right. I’ll call her back.” I called the woman back and made an appointment not based on my desire to please her but on my honest ability to keep the appointment. I’m trying to practice not getting defensive in the face of the truth about me.
It’s tempting to take advantage of someone’s newly admitted fallen state. It’s also hard to hear the truth about ourselves from people who know us best. When my honesty becomes their means to manipulate I pray for the ability to not take it personally. I try to remember that we are all learning. When their honesty presents an opportunity for me to have a good look at myself I pray for the humility to use it as an opportunity to grow. It takes a while to establish an atmosphere of honesty, humility, accountability, and loving patience with the process, in the home. We not only recover and heal as individuals, but as families. Family Support - Give It Time!
By Nannette W.
Posted Monday, January 12, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W.
All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
First, it is tempting to others to use our weaknesses and our honesty about weaknesses as an opportunity for manipulation. Here’s a little example: One day I requested that my child clean his or her room (I’ll let this child remain anonymous). To my utter amazement, in retaliation, I was reminded by the child that, “You’re just a perfectionist mom! You should see my friends’ rooms!” I was accused of acting out on an obsessive desire to have a clean house because I asked a teenager to clean up.
The reality of addiction, the discomfort of withdrawal, coming to understand that we can’t fix each other, coupled with a new honesty in the house makes for an environment where any of us might seize the opportunity to throw recovery in the face of another instead of working on our own.
Second, sometimes in a family setting, with recovery on the front burner, hard things are pointed out to us, not to manipulate, but because they’re true. I find that if I am honest, open minded and willing to listen, those who are truthful with me can be truly helpful. Here’s an example: The other day I was on the phone with someone who needed to talk to me as soon as possible. I was on my way out the door to go to a meeting. I told the woman I would be home about 1:15 pm and I would give her a call. My husband overheard the conversation. When I hung up he said, “Why do you do that?” “Why do I do what?” I responded. “Why do you tell her you’ll be home at 1:15 when you’re never home until after 1:30.” In my perfectionism and my desire to please people I chronically make appointments I can’t possibly make on time. It’s crazy I know. Well, I was tempted to be defensive with my husband and his observation. But instead, and “in recovery” I said, “Your right. I’ll call her back.” I called the woman back and made an appointment not based on my desire to please her but on my honest ability to keep the appointment. I’m trying to practice not getting defensive in the face of the truth about me.
It’s tempting to take advantage of someone’s newly admitted fallen state. It’s also hard to hear the truth about ourselves from people who know us best. When my honesty becomes their means to manipulate I pray for the ability to not take it personally. I try to remember that we are all learning. When their honesty presents an opportunity for me to have a good look at myself I pray for the humility to use it as an opportunity to grow. It takes a while to establish an atmosphere of honesty, humility, accountability, and loving patience with the process, in the home. We not only recover and heal as individuals, but as families. Family Support - Give It Time!
By Nannette W.
Posted Monday, January 12, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W.
All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Puzzled? - The Power of Example
One thing I didn’t get to do this season was to put together a puzzle. Relaxing is not my forte, but when a puzzle is on the dining room table and the members of my family who like that sort of thing are sitting around chatting and laughing and announcing every puzzle piece they have been cleaver enough to place – I simply can’t resist! The one problem my family has with putting a puzzle together is that there are not enough lids to the puzzle box to go around. The picture is the key to all our success. If there is ever any upset during the activity is it likely because someone has taken possession of the box lid and no one else can make any progress.
I was doing a little spring-cleaning after the holidays and ran across a box of 500 and 1000 piece puzzles we had done in past years. They were all the “really cute” ones that we had such a good time putting together and I couldn’t bear to throw away. Apparently no one wants to do them again because they’ve already been done. As I looked through the box there were a couple of puzzles that did find their way to the trash. They were puzzles that for some reason or another had been put into zip lock bags. No Box! No Picture! As I pulled them out my thought was, “There is no way in the world anyone would ever dump these thousand pieces out on a table and try to put this puzzle together without a picture of the finished product, without any clues.
That’s what trying to apply the 12 Steps would be like without the example of those who have already taken this road. When we hear their stories, what their life was like, what it’s like now, the steps they took, and the tools they used, we begin to feel a spark of hope that we too might be able to make progress. For me, that’s the blessing of attending recovery support meeting, calling support people, and reading about the experience of others.
It’s so tempting to resist coming to meetings, making calls, seeing examples in the scriptures, and spending time reading about the recovery of others because we’re embarrassed by our great need. We hope that somehow we can figure it out on our own. I want to remember that going it alone in recovery, with no example of how it works, is impossible. The “old timers” are key! Trying to apply these 12 principles without examples is like trying to put together a 1000 piece puzzle that’s been dumped in a baggie. There’s a reason we all fight over the lid to the puzzle box. Without it we're sunk. With it there is every reason to believe that, as we work together, the puzzle will come together.
By Nannette W.
Posted Saturday, January 10, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W.
All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
I was doing a little spring-cleaning after the holidays and ran across a box of 500 and 1000 piece puzzles we had done in past years. They were all the “really cute” ones that we had such a good time putting together and I couldn’t bear to throw away. Apparently no one wants to do them again because they’ve already been done. As I looked through the box there were a couple of puzzles that did find their way to the trash. They were puzzles that for some reason or another had been put into zip lock bags. No Box! No Picture! As I pulled them out my thought was, “There is no way in the world anyone would ever dump these thousand pieces out on a table and try to put this puzzle together without a picture of the finished product, without any clues.
That’s what trying to apply the 12 Steps would be like without the example of those who have already taken this road. When we hear their stories, what their life was like, what it’s like now, the steps they took, and the tools they used, we begin to feel a spark of hope that we too might be able to make progress. For me, that’s the blessing of attending recovery support meeting, calling support people, and reading about the experience of others.
It’s so tempting to resist coming to meetings, making calls, seeing examples in the scriptures, and spending time reading about the recovery of others because we’re embarrassed by our great need. We hope that somehow we can figure it out on our own. I want to remember that going it alone in recovery, with no example of how it works, is impossible. The “old timers” are key! Trying to apply these 12 principles without examples is like trying to put together a 1000 piece puzzle that’s been dumped in a baggie. There’s a reason we all fight over the lid to the puzzle box. Without it we're sunk. With it there is every reason to believe that, as we work together, the puzzle will come together.
By Nannette W.
Posted Saturday, January 10, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W.
All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Friday, January 9, 2009
“We Don’t Ever Have To Put Christmas Away” – Step 3 Trust In God
This was the first Christmas in years I have been completely void of the desire to “take down Christmas” as we say. The first year I remember feeling this way was my first baby’s first Christmas. My mother-in-law had always decorated her tree with little birds. She was growing older and was unmotivated about setting up Christmas trees etc. A nice poinsettia was all her heart desired. She graciously gave me all her little birds and the family tradition was carried on in our home. Mandy was just the right age to be fascinated with the tree and especially with the delicate birds. I remember taking the tree down, sometime after New Years Eve, during her afternoon nap. Tears streamed down my cheeks at the thought of her waking up. It would never be her first Christmas again, and her first Christmas tree covered with little birds would be nowhere in sight. Vanished!
This year I think I could’ve left the tree up indefinitely, or at lest until the glacier of ice and snow in our front yard melts. My children all voiced to me at Sunday dinner January 4th that this would be highly inappropriate. I knew they were right, but I love plugging in the tree on December 26, when all the Christmas parties are over and all the gifts have been bought, wrapped, unwrapped, and taken home. Somehow at that moment the light on the tree looks different to me. There’s almost a tangible feeling of rest in the room. I had the idea of maybe putting everything away slowly and asked my husband if he would just bring the storage boxes into the house and tuck them away in the family room. Well, I guess hadn’t really shared with my husband my plans to enjoy the Christmas setting a little longer; I went out for a couple of hours and when I walked into the house the whole tree was down and all the decorations were stacked in neat little piles waiting for my attention. I gave up and spent the rest of the evening boxing up Christmas. I made the best of it, but I felt like I was boxing up “peace.”
As usual it feels nice to have it all tucked away in the garage again. And as I write I am struck with the truth that many things don’t keep forever but Christmas does. Taking the wreath off the front door, boxing up the decorations, and throwing away the last of the goodies on the kitchen counter – Those are the things we do to declare the holiday had ended. But, there really is no end, because Christmas is Jesus Christ. His life and the life He has given us is never ending, ever lasting.
No matter how much we wish they would, babies don’t last. This year was Mandy’s first Christmas with her first baby. Now she’s the one with a lump in her throat as she celebrates the lasts of all the firsts. Even the little glass birds don’t last forever. One by one they have been replaced by more durable less delicate varieties. But Christmas lasts forever. The day after Christmas and the day after that and on and on day after day the same blessings that come to us because of the life of Jesus remain available. Christmas is truly The Gift that keeps on giving.
When I box up Christmas I’m not boxing up the His peace, His love, His grace, His revelation or the daily tender mercies that come because of Him. He said, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the word giveth, give I unto you. Let not you heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27).
We can endure all the things of this life that change before our very eyes, because Christ has made all the good and all the joys of this life Eternal. We Don’t Ever Have To Put Christmas Away!
By Nannette W.
Posted Friday, January 9, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
This year I think I could’ve left the tree up indefinitely, or at lest until the glacier of ice and snow in our front yard melts. My children all voiced to me at Sunday dinner January 4th that this would be highly inappropriate. I knew they were right, but I love plugging in the tree on December 26, when all the Christmas parties are over and all the gifts have been bought, wrapped, unwrapped, and taken home. Somehow at that moment the light on the tree looks different to me. There’s almost a tangible feeling of rest in the room. I had the idea of maybe putting everything away slowly and asked my husband if he would just bring the storage boxes into the house and tuck them away in the family room. Well, I guess hadn’t really shared with my husband my plans to enjoy the Christmas setting a little longer; I went out for a couple of hours and when I walked into the house the whole tree was down and all the decorations were stacked in neat little piles waiting for my attention. I gave up and spent the rest of the evening boxing up Christmas. I made the best of it, but I felt like I was boxing up “peace.”
As usual it feels nice to have it all tucked away in the garage again. And as I write I am struck with the truth that many things don’t keep forever but Christmas does. Taking the wreath off the front door, boxing up the decorations, and throwing away the last of the goodies on the kitchen counter – Those are the things we do to declare the holiday had ended. But, there really is no end, because Christmas is Jesus Christ. His life and the life He has given us is never ending, ever lasting.
No matter how much we wish they would, babies don’t last. This year was Mandy’s first Christmas with her first baby. Now she’s the one with a lump in her throat as she celebrates the lasts of all the firsts. Even the little glass birds don’t last forever. One by one they have been replaced by more durable less delicate varieties. But Christmas lasts forever. The day after Christmas and the day after that and on and on day after day the same blessings that come to us because of the life of Jesus remain available. Christmas is truly The Gift that keeps on giving.
When I box up Christmas I’m not boxing up the His peace, His love, His grace, His revelation or the daily tender mercies that come because of Him. He said, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the word giveth, give I unto you. Let not you heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27).
We can endure all the things of this life that change before our very eyes, because Christ has made all the good and all the joys of this life Eternal. We Don’t Ever Have To Put Christmas Away!
By Nannette W.
Posted Friday, January 9, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
"I'll Get Out And Sit With You" - Step 2
My sister recently told me about an experience I want to share. One morning during the holiday break Jane called her daughter Amy. It was her grandson’s 1st birthday. No official extended family celebration had been planned. After their phone visit Jane had the thought that it would be fun to pick up all the local cousins and drive the hour and a half for a spur of the moment party for the birthday boy. She called her daughter to let her know they would be coming. Amy was thrilled.
“The way down was really quite pleasant,” she explained. “I put Carter and Drew (around age 4) in the very back seat, the two two-year-olds in the middle seats by the doors, and Abigail (age 7) between them to help them out if needed. We listened to children’s music all the way there. When we got there we ate a simple meal, opened presents, and ate cake shaped like a horse along with ice cream. Then, not wanting to get home too late, we said our goodbyes. It took me about 15 minutes just to get everyone back into their car seats! This was quite an undertaking!”
“The ride home from the party did not go quite as well as the ride to the party. Abbie, the 7-year-old “mother in training” started things out by turning around, looking at the 4-year-old cousins in the back seat and saying, "Now when I click my fingers like this.... it means that you guys better behave!" I should have known that was a sign. By now it was dark outside. About 10 minutes into the drive, Drew and Carter began to get wild, and Drew punched Carter in the face. Carter wailed! He called up to the front seat and told me what had happened and I scolded Drew and told him to stop, but as time went on, things didn't change. I was very frustrated and after several more tries from the front seat, I decided it was time for new measures. I pulled the car over, got out and leaned over the back seat to get to Drew. I think he was a bit surprised. I shook my finger at him and said, "Now if you don't cut this out right now, I'm going to put you outside in the cold and you can sit out there and settle down. Do you understand me?" "Yes," he replied.”
“Needless to say it was quiet for several minutes and I was grateful. Then I heard this little voice come from the back seat. It was Drew, who said, ‘Well, grandma...if you put me outside the car, I won't know where you are and I'll maybe get lost.’”
“Then I heard the sweetest response, also from the back seat. Carter (who had been the receiver of the hitting) said, ‘Hey Drew, that's OK, I'll get out and sit with you.’”
“I felt at that moment I had been taught by a little child. I saw a parallel, vividly. In my mind Drew was like you and I and Carter was like Jesus.”
Step 3 says, “Come to believe that the power of God can restore you to complete sanity.” The most stunning aspect of the Lord’s power to restore us is His patience in the face of our outbursts and His loving willingness to sit with us. We’ve each hurt the Savior on more than one occasion and He’s felt the pain, more than we can ever understand. But the Savior, like Carter, is always willing to and in fact continues to sit out in the cold with us, until we are ready to behave and get back into the car for the rest of the journey.
By Nannette W.
Posted Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
“The way down was really quite pleasant,” she explained. “I put Carter and Drew (around age 4) in the very back seat, the two two-year-olds in the middle seats by the doors, and Abigail (age 7) between them to help them out if needed. We listened to children’s music all the way there. When we got there we ate a simple meal, opened presents, and ate cake shaped like a horse along with ice cream. Then, not wanting to get home too late, we said our goodbyes. It took me about 15 minutes just to get everyone back into their car seats! This was quite an undertaking!”
“The ride home from the party did not go quite as well as the ride to the party. Abbie, the 7-year-old “mother in training” started things out by turning around, looking at the 4-year-old cousins in the back seat and saying, "Now when I click my fingers like this.... it means that you guys better behave!" I should have known that was a sign. By now it was dark outside. About 10 minutes into the drive, Drew and Carter began to get wild, and Drew punched Carter in the face. Carter wailed! He called up to the front seat and told me what had happened and I scolded Drew and told him to stop, but as time went on, things didn't change. I was very frustrated and after several more tries from the front seat, I decided it was time for new measures. I pulled the car over, got out and leaned over the back seat to get to Drew. I think he was a bit surprised. I shook my finger at him and said, "Now if you don't cut this out right now, I'm going to put you outside in the cold and you can sit out there and settle down. Do you understand me?" "Yes," he replied.”
“Needless to say it was quiet for several minutes and I was grateful. Then I heard this little voice come from the back seat. It was Drew, who said, ‘Well, grandma...if you put me outside the car, I won't know where you are and I'll maybe get lost.’”
“Then I heard the sweetest response, also from the back seat. Carter (who had been the receiver of the hitting) said, ‘Hey Drew, that's OK, I'll get out and sit with you.’”
“I felt at that moment I had been taught by a little child. I saw a parallel, vividly. In my mind Drew was like you and I and Carter was like Jesus.”
Step 3 says, “Come to believe that the power of God can restore you to complete sanity.” The most stunning aspect of the Lord’s power to restore us is His patience in the face of our outbursts and His loving willingness to sit with us. We’ve each hurt the Savior on more than one occasion and He’s felt the pain, more than we can ever understand. But the Savior, like Carter, is always willing to and in fact continues to sit out in the cold with us, until we are ready to behave and get back into the car for the rest of the journey.
By Nannette W.
Posted Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Perfectionism Is…
Perfectionism is the debilitating fear
Of being in trouble with myself
and
Always being
In trouble with myself
And
Blaming other people and circumstances
For my private discontent
Of being in trouble with myself
and
Always being
In trouble with myself
And
Blaming other people and circumstances
For my private discontent
By Nannette W.
Posted Tuesday, January 6, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
A Lesson From the Wood Shed – “Doing the Next Right Thing”
My dad was raised in a charming little lumber town in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. Nearly everyone in town worked for the lumber company which consisted of a lumber mill and a box factory. My Grandpa ran the warehouse. The main street of the town was lined with small, wooden, bungalow type houses. Each house, including the house my dad grew up in, was painted barn red with white trim. Everyone’s back yard was a never-ending wonderland of pine trees. It was quite the backdrop for growing up.
Over the years most of the big timber was been cut down, and shortly after I was born it was determined that the mill should be closed. The day the mill was to shut down it caught fire and burned to the ground and my relations moved away. When I was a little girl I loved nothing more that to sit with the grownups and listen to them reminisce and swap memories of days gone by in this little corner of God’s creation. I was a girl growing up in the big city listening to stories about a two-room schoolhouse, horses, winter snow that reached the eaves of the little red houses, and forts and tree swings in the forest. In my mind I imagined it all, including family picnics to the lake, complete with a basket full of grandma’s cooking and a red-checkered tablecloth. As described by my grandma and grandpa, and my aunts and dad, their upbringing sounded like pages out of a book, that kind of book you wish you could crawl inside.
Sometimes my dad would use stories from his life in this little wonderland to illustrate some particular life lesson he wanted us to grasp. The illustration that most readily comes to my mind is a very simple one. My dad would pull this metaphor out of his back pocket anytime there was a job to be done that was too big, to daunting, bigger than me or bigger than the combined heart might mind and strength of all his children.
As I mentioned, part of the lumber business was a box-making factory where wooden boxes were made. These were the kind of boxes like the ones we sometimes find at the small town fruit stand filled with peaches or pears. The construction of these boxes also produced a mountain of wood scraps. Before the snow began to fly, the lumber company would distribute small mountains of scraps in the driveways of all the little houses in the lumber village to be used as wood in their stoves throughout the winter.
Behind dad’s barn red house was a red slant roofed shed. The sole purpose of this shed was to house the firewood supply that would keep the family warm through the frozen winter months when all those pine trees were laden with frozen white snow. It took four loads of wood to fill the shed. Though, as a little boy, dad didn’t work for the lumber company, he was required to work for his family. His biggest chore involved this mountain. His assignment was to toss every piece of scrap wood in this daunting pile through the shed window.
When we were faced with something overwhelming dad would often bring up the memory of this childhood responsibility. He described it as a very discouraging job for a little boy. He told us that at first he would look up at the mountain of scraps and think of his assignment in despair. Then he made a simple discovery that gave him what it took to get each and every piece of wood from the driveway, through that window and into the shed. He found if he would focus on tossing in one piece at a time the job could be done. The advice my dad offered, whenever a task seemed to big, was to “wood shed it.” We all knew what that meant. No matter what we were challenged by, success would come as we were willing to exert the smallest bit of effort, consistently, in the right direction.
I remember the first time I sat in a meeting and listened as the 12 Steps were read aloud. I was dumbfounded at the list of 12 simple but not easy recommendations. I know I’m not the only one who's felt such initial fear. The book Alcoholics Anonymous, affectionately know as the Big Book, discloses the feelings of those pioneers who forged the way for us, “Many…exclaimed, ‘What an order!’” (Page 60) The book goes on to disclose the stories of men and women who, by the grace of God, were able to do the work required - one day at time, one prayer at a time, one meeting at a time, one moment of reaching out to another sufferer at a time, and one step at a time, for a lifetime.
“What an order!” Those words take my mind to that little woodshed, filled to the brim against the coming winter by a little boy who was willing to pick up one piece of scrap wood at a time and toss it in the window.
By Nannette W.
Posted Saturday, January 3, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
Over the years most of the big timber was been cut down, and shortly after I was born it was determined that the mill should be closed. The day the mill was to shut down it caught fire and burned to the ground and my relations moved away. When I was a little girl I loved nothing more that to sit with the grownups and listen to them reminisce and swap memories of days gone by in this little corner of God’s creation. I was a girl growing up in the big city listening to stories about a two-room schoolhouse, horses, winter snow that reached the eaves of the little red houses, and forts and tree swings in the forest. In my mind I imagined it all, including family picnics to the lake, complete with a basket full of grandma’s cooking and a red-checkered tablecloth. As described by my grandma and grandpa, and my aunts and dad, their upbringing sounded like pages out of a book, that kind of book you wish you could crawl inside.
Sometimes my dad would use stories from his life in this little wonderland to illustrate some particular life lesson he wanted us to grasp. The illustration that most readily comes to my mind is a very simple one. My dad would pull this metaphor out of his back pocket anytime there was a job to be done that was too big, to daunting, bigger than me or bigger than the combined heart might mind and strength of all his children.
As I mentioned, part of the lumber business was a box-making factory where wooden boxes were made. These were the kind of boxes like the ones we sometimes find at the small town fruit stand filled with peaches or pears. The construction of these boxes also produced a mountain of wood scraps. Before the snow began to fly, the lumber company would distribute small mountains of scraps in the driveways of all the little houses in the lumber village to be used as wood in their stoves throughout the winter.
Behind dad’s barn red house was a red slant roofed shed. The sole purpose of this shed was to house the firewood supply that would keep the family warm through the frozen winter months when all those pine trees were laden with frozen white snow. It took four loads of wood to fill the shed. Though, as a little boy, dad didn’t work for the lumber company, he was required to work for his family. His biggest chore involved this mountain. His assignment was to toss every piece of scrap wood in this daunting pile through the shed window.
When we were faced with something overwhelming dad would often bring up the memory of this childhood responsibility. He described it as a very discouraging job for a little boy. He told us that at first he would look up at the mountain of scraps and think of his assignment in despair. Then he made a simple discovery that gave him what it took to get each and every piece of wood from the driveway, through that window and into the shed. He found if he would focus on tossing in one piece at a time the job could be done. The advice my dad offered, whenever a task seemed to big, was to “wood shed it.” We all knew what that meant. No matter what we were challenged by, success would come as we were willing to exert the smallest bit of effort, consistently, in the right direction.
I remember the first time I sat in a meeting and listened as the 12 Steps were read aloud. I was dumbfounded at the list of 12 simple but not easy recommendations. I know I’m not the only one who's felt such initial fear. The book Alcoholics Anonymous, affectionately know as the Big Book, discloses the feelings of those pioneers who forged the way for us, “Many…exclaimed, ‘What an order!’” (Page 60) The book goes on to disclose the stories of men and women who, by the grace of God, were able to do the work required - one day at time, one prayer at a time, one meeting at a time, one moment of reaching out to another sufferer at a time, and one step at a time, for a lifetime.
“What an order!” Those words take my mind to that little woodshed, filled to the brim against the coming winter by a little boy who was willing to pick up one piece of scrap wood at a time and toss it in the window.
By Nannette W.
Posted Saturday, January 3, 2009
Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.
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