Sleepless and Silent Night

Poor little Lucy hasn't been sleeping well lately - at nap times or during the night. She's been waking up a couple of times after I put her down at night and before I go to bed myself, and just cries with a sadness that makes my heart break. Then, she's been waking up 3-4 times a night. I think part of it might be her first tooth that's about to poke through. Part of it might be her little body getting used to eating solids. Part of it might be becoming more aware of being left alone when she just wants to be near someone. Part of it might be all the big milestones she's hitting all at once. Whatever it is, I hope we can comfort her through it and help her get back to sleeping better again.

Marc just went in to take a turn comforting her, while I get things wrapped up for the night and can go in to take over. I could hear his soft humming to Silent Night. I love that my baby girl (and our cute boys, too) has such a good Daddy.

A new calling

A few weeks ago there was an important moment for my dad, which brought all of my siblings (except one) out for a quick weekend visit. It was so fun to be in on the surprise for my parents, who were not expecting the large gathering since we had just had our family reunion a couple of weekends before.

Half of my siblings arrived in the middle of the night and crashed at my house as soon as they arrived into town. We live just a couple of blocks from my parents and the halfway point is a big grassy field that you have to walk through to get to each others' houses. Early that Saturday morning, I called my parents to invite them over for a pancake breakfast, telling them that Ben and Hugh were asking for them as soon as they woke up.

What they found as they approached that grassy field was a handful of their grown children playing ball in the same grassy field where we played ball as young children. I wish I had thought to bring my camera to capture the looks on their faces. Precious and absolutely priceless.

The next day - Sunday - my dad was given a new calling (or assignment) for our Church, which was the important moment that caused us all to gather. He was called as the Patriarch for our area. For those of you who aren't of my faith, if you're interested in knowing more about patriarchs, you can read about it here. His primary responsibility will be to give patriarchal blessings, which you can read about here.

I've always felt very blessed for the family I belong to, particularly for the blessing of two wonderful parents. For those of you who know my father, I'm sure you'd agree that this new calling is the perfect fit for the kind of man that he is. I've also been given the unique opportunity to help him with secretarial type duties that will surely bring with it some incredible spiritual experiences to my own life. Good things to come, for sure.

Renaissance Men

Since I'm still staying home, and away from viruses that might harm my babes, I didn't make it to church today. (Last Sunday someone actually asked my Dad how "the bubble babies" were doing... making light of my overly protective ways. Funny John. I don't mind... at least my babies aren't catching others' sicknesses.) 

Anyway, since I was home (with the help of my Mom for part of the time), we watched Music and the Spoken Word. Appropriately the message today was dedicated to fathers. One message that was highlighted was something referred to as "the Renaissance Man," which basically is a title given to men who are skilled and talented in many different disciplines. Lloyd Newell pointed out that in our society there are many to whom we could give this title, but those men most deserving of it are the fathers who find ways to balance being a hard-working bread-winner and filling the tender role of father.

While I listened to the message, I couldn't help but reflect on the two fathers in my life that mean the most to me - my Dad and my Marc. Here are two men who are Renaissance Men in every way.

* My Dad with Hugh

My Dad always seemed to find the extra time for early morning fishing and camping trips, exploring the outdoors, and spending individual time with each of us. And, now, I adore watching the time he gives to my little boys. A year ago I had an intimate talk with my Dad while at our family reunion. I told him how much longed for the day that I could watch he and my Mom loving and caring for my children, the way I've always watched them care for my nieces and nephews. I was so worried that day wouldn't come in time. But, now that time has come and it brings me so much joy!

* Marc with Ben

And, just for the record, I think Marc deserves the title of Father of the Year. I have been so amazed with how well he has managed wearing all the different hats that he has to wear right now... not only in how he has done it all, but how he has done it cheerfully. He has been Ben's nighttime buddy - taking over bath-time, massage-time, and sleepy-time. Then, in the morning he lets me sleep in with Hugh, bringing me breakfast in bed. During the day he works long, full hours... but still making himself available if I need his extra arms. Then, at night we've managed to find at least a half hour that we spend together talking or watching part of a movie or doing something to keep us connected. On top of "Daddy" and "Husband" and "Designer" he also has a busy church calling that keeps him busy throughout the entire week. I've never felt so lucky to have him as my life's companion.

So, Happy Father's Day to my two favorite Renaissance Men... and to all the other amazing Renaissance Men out there!

Divinely Guided

I spent most of Saturday doing some major cleaning. Not the normal dishes, vacuuming, making the bed stuff (although, I did that stuff, too)... I'm talking about cleaning dark corners of the house - going through things that have been sitting in the less-used rooms of the house.

I discovered what appears to be Marc's own life-time supply of his necessities - shaving gel, deoderant, breath mints, pocket knives. If we ever are in an emergency and we can't go to a store for an extended period of time, Marc will smell great! And, if I'm desperate enough I'll smell just like him. Not that he smells bad! Just that I'll smell like a man. Oh well. I guess we need to make an inventory and keep track of what we really need when we go to the store!

So, anyway, it was in the middle of finding his "treasures" that I came across this little white card - smaller than a business card - with a quote on it. In Marc's handwriting it said this:

"I believe I am always divinely guided. I believe I will always take the right road. I believe that God will always make a way, even when there appears to be no way."

- Commander William Robert Anderson

(I had no idea who this guy was, but wikipedia tells me that William Anderson was a naval office and commander of the first submarine to successfully sail under the polar ice cap surrounding the North Pole. Pretty cool, huh?)

So, anyway, I had to re-read the quote for emphasis... and then I thought back to an experience from a couple of weeks ago. I was sitting in one of my classes when my teacher brought up the idea of life being "planned out" for us. I sat back, interested to hear what others would say about it. I was sure there would be others who have seen evidence of some greater plan coming together in their lives - whether they attribute it to their religious beliefs or to some belief in "destiny."

The only vocal people were the ones who thought such an idea was silly. I was left speechless... partly because I needed more time to think through things more clearly. While I don't believe in things being "predetermined," I do believe that there are things that can only come together with divine help and intervention.

I've thought a lot about my own life since that class discussion and tried to explain away the divinely guided moments of my life and count them simply as mere coincidence. No matter how hard I try to do it, I just can't. There are things I've seen come together in such miraculous ways, that there is no other explanation except that God had a hand in it coming together the way it did.

About a million experiences from my mission alone come to mind. Italy is a sacred place to me - a place where I first became aware of the Great Orchestrator of life. The stories I could share! Unbelievable stories... except they are true life experiences.

But, perhaps the divine help I'm most grateful for was finding Marc. It was six years ago this week that we first met. On Halloween night 2001, my roommate Julianna came home and said "Marc found out today that his dad passed away... if you see him, let him know you're thinking of him." To be honest, I didn't even know who Marc was or what he looked like, even though we'd been in the same ward at Church for over two months.

Then it was a week and a half later that the same roommate informed me of Marc being involved in a very serious car accident. At this point, I thought "Holy Cow! Where's this guy's break? Is his father's death not enough?" Then, I thought of my brothers... and I thought of how lonely they would be if they were going through the same awful things being surrounded only by male roommates, who sometimes don't know how to reach out to other men during emotional times. And, I decided I was going to change that.

So, I would seek out this "Marc" at Church the next day and offer my friendship to him... and here's where the story just begins...

...to be continued... :)

These Three Men

We are a little behind, but had to say something about Father's Day. There are three men who deserve my love and appreciation on Father's Day. Here they are...

Some things I love about my Dad... I love the way he whistles while he does the dishes or while he's puttering around the house. I love spending time with him in the yard. I love being in nature with him - camping, hiking, going on walks - it's where I feel closest to him. I love watching Frasier reruns with him - we laugh and laugh. I love talking with him about philosophy or politics or religion. I love the comfort of having his arm around me when life is hard. I love his sensitivity in knowing when I need his arm around me. I love it when he calls me by his nickname for me - Nutmeg. I love being "the spice of his life." I couldn't have been blessed with a better father.

And, I couldn't be more blessed to have Marc as my husband. Although we don't have any rugrats of our own yet, there is little that brings me more joy than watching how much our nieces and nephews love him. They literally climb all over him, and when they're ready to settle down, they love hearing his stories. (I love his stories, too!) Even the young ones, who you'd think aren't paying attention, become engrossed in his stories. He is very patient and sweet with them. He is going to be such a good father. There is so much that I love about him!

I never had the privilege of meeting Marc's Dad. But, I am grateful for the kind of father he was to Marc. I love hearing stories about him, and watching the way Marc fits so many of the characteristics of his Dad. I've decided that the person I'm most excited to meet in heaven some day is Marc's Dad.

These three good men are among my most favorite blessings!

-Megan

Father's Day

Father's Day is past, and I'm just now mentioning it. We thought it would be good to write something about our dads even though it's a bit late. My dad passed away six years ago. He was a great role model.

One day, he was driving me to school when he saw something on the side of the road. He pulled the car over, opened the trunk, and pulled out some pruning shears. Then he walked over to a huge blackberry bush and cut some of it away. The bush had obscured a speed limit sign that was important, yet often ignored.

That small experience really made an impact on me. I had always assumed this sort of thing (trimming bushes away from government signs) was somebody else's job, something that normal people didn't need to worry about.

Ever since that day, I have tried to look for ways to improve my surroundings, even when I feel like it's not really my job, or when I know that somebody else might get paid to do it. It's easy to complain and gripe about things, but you learn a different perspective when you get your own hands dirty.

That's just a small example of the type of man my dad was.

-Marc