tender mercy #9948390483902

I believe in an amazing God. A God that can create worlds, move mountains, walk on water, bring people back to life, and cure people of cancer. He can also heal hearts hardened by anger, sorrow, or abuse. He can give people a whole new perspective. He can change lives.

Not only can He.

He does.

He does those things and many more every single day.

I made a last minute decision to mentor a math class this fall and I need a specific, somewhat obscure math book for it. I am quickly running out of time to create this class. I found the book online and it is about $10-$15 on Amazon. On Friday, I got the prompting to go look at our local used book store for it. I looked at the three shelves of math books and the third book in on the top shelf was my book! For $3.99! I quickly scanned the rest of the books to see if their were any more amazing treasures. Nope. All the rest of the books were boring and dusty and far too technical for my taste. Just the one book, waiting right where I would find it, at a great price, in perfect condition.

God knew it was so.

And He sent me there.

Not because I couldn’t have ordered it off of Amazon. But because He chose to show His love for me. His intimate knowledge of me and the fact that I needed that book right now, not whenever it would come from Amazon. His compassion for me. His tender mercy.

He knows. He loves. He does.

He is.

I hope to always remember that.

jane’s new home

Top row, then bottom row:
RuthAnne 17, Daniel 15, Noah 18, Sophie 18, Elizabeth 14, Isabelle 9, Jane, Elijah 12, and Kate 9.

This is Jane. She is my friend and has been for the last thirteen years or so. I remember the day I first heard about Jane. Her sister-in-law lived in my ward and she said “You are my sister-in-law’s twin! You remind me so much of her! I attended her last birth and she was just like you, laboring in water, eating healthy food, breastfeeding. You would love her. Maybe some day she will come visit and if she does, I will make sure I introduce you two soulmates.”

Well, pretty soon Jane not only came to visit, but she moved right down the street from me. We started hanging out together. A lot. I went over every few days to have lunch with her at her huge wooden table with benches (Guess what? Now I have a table with benches) or to picnic on the lawn. She taught me how to make pesto, shared her love of gardening, fed me delicious homemade bread, and gave me her heart. We spent hours talking about life, mothering, music, hiking, cooking, and faith. She taught me how a mother trusts the Lord. She showed me how a busy mother of many children can serve her friends and neighbors. She blessed me with her knowledge of the Savior’s love for her and helped me see the Savior’s love for me. She taught me how to nurture children and be a busy homeschooling mother. She grounded me in goodness.

Quite simply, she was my friend.

I moved away and we kept up our friendship. I would drop in on her whenever I went to Pocatello. We would sit around nursing our babies, laughing, discussing wonderful books, and listening to Sophie practice her cello. She watched my girls when I attended births or had doula appointments. She fed me delicious food. She threw a party for us after a cello recital. She shared her garden’s creations.

I remember once when she was watching Blythe for me and Blythe and Elizabeth cut their hair. Jane knew that this was Blythe’s first “haircut” and she saved all the pieces of hair for me in a ziplock bag. How precious and dear is that?

I remember when she was pregnant with the twins and how huge her uterus was. She birthed those two precious girls with bravery and beauty. She nursed them, two at a time, with a smile on her face.

Her husband left her and still she kept smiling, kept serving, kept loving.

Sometimes we would meet at a park and watch our children play together all afternoon. I remember one day, my friend Delinda and I were at Ross Park and in swooped Jane and her eight children on bikes. We had so much fun together and truly loved one another deep down to our little toes.

I can’t even count the number of times I was at her home and she was cooking dinner for someone else. As a single mom, without an income, without hope of getting an income, she was constantly cooking, giving, and loving others. Always. It didn’t matter what was going on in her own life, she was thinking of others and blessing all of us with her love.

Then Jane discovered she had breast cancer. Her hair fell out, her body struggled, and her faith shone. We laughed at her various head coverings and tried to design ones that would help her look her best. We prayed and fasted and worried and hoped.

Jane was beautiful as she went through treatment because her spirit kept on being beautiful. Kept on reaching out to others.

Then her house caught on fire. She insisted she didn’t need anything and shared her gratitude that her family was safe and together.

Then she discovered she had a brain tumor.

And now? Now she has been given a new home by Extreme Makeover: Home Edition. Her community has created a miracle for my dear Jane and I cannot even think of it without crying my eyes out.

People are good. Yes, they are.

Old Home:

New Home:

Today is the day her family will be welcomed home. To their home. Designed for them and built with the love of thousands of people.

I am so happy for her. For each of them.

mamahooper: she writes, i read

Another one of Elise’s mind-expanding, soul-filling, heart-warming posts. Her words of wisdom and truth help me feel as if I am curled up with a hot rice sock, a dear friend, and yummy food.

Someday I hope to meet her in person and give her a big hug for the good she has done my impatient, impertinent, and imperfect self.

i can only imagine

Two posts from me in one day? Well, after the drought of the past eight days I thought I would bless you with some life-sustaining nourishment for the soul.

You have perhaps heard of Dick and Rick Hoyt. If not, let me tell you about them. Rick was born with cerebral palsy. His doctors told his parents he had no cerebral functioning, would never understand anything, and would be a vegetable of a person his whole life. They recommended he be put in an institution and left behind.

His parents said “No.”

They brought him home and loved him. They held him. They talked to him. They watched Bruins games as a family and he watched with them. They tried to raise him like any other child. They knew something was going on in his brain because of the light in his eyes and the strange sounds he would make at jokes. After many years they were able to have a computer made for him that would allow him to use his eyes and mouth twitches to type out his thoughts. No one knew if it would work or if something really was going on inside his brain.

GO BRUINS was what he typed that first day.

The beginning of his communication journey.

Later, he found out about a five mile run. He typed to his dad that he wanted to do it. His dad was overweight, out of shape, and in no condition to run five miles. He said “Okay son, we will do it.”

They finished second to last, but they finished. To everyone’s amazement, they finished.

He typed another message “Dad, when I was in the race I didn’t feel disabled.”

The beginning of his athletic journey.

Now, he and his father have done hundreds of races and specialize in the triathlon. They love doing Iron Man races and together they are changing the meaning of the word CAN.

If you want to give yourself hope, joy, and determination, go watch this video now. Do yourself a favor, get the tissues before you hit play.