12 years

Me and Jason were married 12 years ago today.  I didn't want to be married in February, so we opted for the last day in January. I was so happy that day, and had no idea what was in store for us.  Jason was the best thing that had happened to me up to that point.  I had no idea how hard life would be, but I also didn't realize how much deeper and stronger my love would feel for him. My love for him was genuine and true at that time. As true as anything had ever been for me. But, it is has much more depth and sincerity now. It has deeper roots and more beautiful blossoms. All relationships are a fragile and constantly changing thing. They are alive, and if they are fed, they grow. If they are starved, they die. A marriage relationship is never stagnant. It has to move in one direction or the other.

I feel like I could have the same pictures taken today and I would smile just as I did that day, but it would mean something different now; it means more now. I think anniversaries have a way of bringing the expectation of a nice gift or an expensive dinner. Somehow those things are a true declaration of ones feelings for their spouse??? Those things are nice, but not without a true and beautiful relationship to go along with it.  This day has such significance for us because it signifies the day that we entered into a sacred marriage covenant that enables us to be with each other and our children forever. That has always been important, but we cling to those promises now. 

It means everything now. 

When someone you love is gone from this world, that is all that matters. So I didn't need a beautiful gift (even though I got one). I didn't need an expensive dinner or a dozen roses. The best gift we can give each other is living worthy of the promises we made to one another and to God.  This, truly, is the most significant day of the year for our family.

We went to the temple today and saw the same man who sealed us 12 years ago. Coincidence? You know how I feel about coincidences.

addendum to important things

Remember my post about: Important things?  I forgot one...

I also wanted to add that I did, in fact, buy this:

I am really wondering why I have never bought one of these before.  I had $100 and an empty basement and it seemed appropriate to bring this into our environment.  Punching the air just doesn't quite do the trick.  I've heard you can punch a pillow...a pillow? Seriously?  I'm not 4.  This piece of equipment is the right tool for the right job.  I was always told growing up that the color red would make me angry.  Is that why punching bags are only red or black?  I can think of plenty of things that make me angry that aren't red...just saying...  And speaking of the right tools, you need the right pair of gloves.  I have some gloves coming in the mail.  And one more piece of information that you might find useful.  You can't use the Kleenexes and the punching bag at the same time.  They are to be kept separate for separate occasions.  (Unless you need to clean off the punching bag.   Maybe that's why they make them red; less cleaning required).

The Rocking Horse

For Christmas, Eli got a beautiful gift from my dad and Tami.  I saw the box and my heart  filled when I saw Eli's name.  He hadn't received any other gifts (except the beautiful, homemade gifts from Ethan).  For some reason, seeing his name on a box did so, so much for me.  I opened it and was absolutely speechless.  My dad had made him a miniature rocking horse.  He has made one for each family as grandchildren have been born.  This small one is an exact replica of the larger ones.  It is even to scale...I believe 33% as big as the original.  My dad's Grandpa Graff and my Grandpa Snow made the "original" rocking horse from a pattern that Grandpa Graff had used as a woodshop teacher at Hurricane high school.  They made it for Rob, my dad's oldest brother.  My dad continued the tradition as he made one for my oldest brother, Tyler, when he was 2.  My dad used that same pattern to make one for each of his children's families for the grandchildren to enjoy.  I couldn't have been more touched.  It was the perfect gift.  Thank you dad and Tami.  It truly is the sweetest and most beautiful little rocking horse ever made.  

Unfinished

I usually like to do things in an orderly fashion.  I don't start several projects at once.  I like to complete one and then start another.  I don't like chaos.  I really don't like it.  Grieving has been an interesting journey for me thus far.  I find that I have mini peaks and valleys a midst the larger, more obvious ones.  There are times that I can't move or think.  But there are also times, when I am on the uphill portion of any given valley, that inspiration or revelation or whatever you want to call it, it flowing so quickly that I am afraid that I will miss something.  I write EVERYTHING down.  I try to write it in the moment.  It is so much more potent and I can capture more of it than if I wait.  I drive in my car and talk to my phone (it takes notes for me).  I talk to my iPad.  I have a huge list of things that I need to: Ponder on later.  I feel like there are times that, if I stop to ponder for too long, the next idea will come and go, and I will miss it.  It is like drought and then torrential down pour.  I try to grab buckets and catch every little drop.  I'm afraid that if I miss it, it won't fall again.  When I feel  drought, I go back to the long list of: things to ponder on later. 

I know that the veil was very thin when Eli was inside me.  It was barely there when he was born.  It has been very thin, but has started to thicken more and more.  I feel it.  It is almost tangible.  It is unmistakable.  I want to catch all I can while it is thinner.  I don't want to forget anything.  So...my normal mode of being neat and tidy and non-chaotic has disappeared.  I have 26 blog posts started that have not been finished.  I have a note in my iPad about 11 more ideas that I have (and about 15 more in my head).  After I had Eli, I kind of wondered what I would do with the blog.  I thought I would tell the story (whatever that was....) and it would fizzle and die.  I'm not sure if anyone is still reading this, but I have a lot I feel like I'm supposed to write.  I have no idea where this has come from.  I feel like I have always had a lot in my heart and my head, but never figured it was worth putting on paper.  I had no credibility to talk of these ideas (or so I thought).  

But, I think this particular trial is something that most people can at least imagine happening to them on some level.  It includes loss...everyone has faced that.  Maybe not in a death, but we have all lost something...even if it was just our lucky shirt.  It includes uncertainty...everyone has felt that.  It includes anger...I'm sure that includes everyone except my one friend, Jenna, who has only been kind of mad once in her life.  I mean that as a compliment.  It includes the fiery trial of your faith...if that doesn't include you, it will.  It includes deep, deep sorrow and exquisite joy.  It includes a lot of things that most people can relate with.  And most people either have children or yearn to some day, so this is something everyone can see, if not fully understand.

I said that I had no idea where this has come from.  That isn't true.  I know exactly where it has come from.  It came from Eli.  He has a strong and immovable and determined spirit.  He isn't afraid of the things that most of us are afraid of.  He has that, and I have a connection to him.  I happen to have a computer and a keyboard and two hands. And together, something is happening.  I'm not sure what.  I get nervous that I don't know the end.  It's like I want to wait until I know where this road is going before I speak up.  But it is more exciting this way, don't you think?

Here is a picture of all the books I was reading when I thought of writing about this (not to mention the 9 tabs I have open in my iPad with conference and BYU devotional talks...mostly from Holland and Maxwell, of course):

I have since finished 2 of these books and started 4 new ones.  I am starting more ideas than I can finish...but there's time for that later...

JaLaine and Laena

After I finished my last post about: 21 days I realized I had forgotten one very important thing about the number 21: 

November 21st was Eli's due date.

April 21st was Laena's due date

July 21st is my birthday.

September 21st is JaLaine's (Laena's mom's) birthday.  

Coincidence?  

It's also interesting that each of these 21st dates coincides with a different season.  Eli (winter), Laena (spring), me (summer), JaLaine (fall).  Me and Eli are in the opposite seasons, and JaLaine and Laena are in opposite seasons.  hmmmm.....I guess Eli is technically in fall, but anyways... that makes the point less intriguing. 

"Do you think the universe fights for souls to be together?

Some things are too strange and strong to be coincidences." -Emery Allen

I read a little bit about the number 21.  It seemed like some of the things I read were similar to a horoscope, but there was some interesting info as I sifted through it.  There was a lot of talk of prime numbers and triangular numbers and I hadn't the faintest idea what any of it meant.   Here is the part I liked... maybe I am grasping for meaning in everything, but I think there is more meaning in things than we usually acknowledge.  God is anxious to teach us truth...He does it in so very many ways:

NUMBER 21: As a product of three times seven, the number twenty-one has long been considered a symbol of perfection. It is also a holy number in the Bible and a symbol of divine wisdom. In the West, twenty-one is a symbol of responsibility and adulthood. 

The number 21 represents harmony in the creation.

Today isn't the 21st, but it has been 2 months since Laena was born.  

How would you like to go to your "6 week check"  3 months before your baby was even due?  How would you like it if your belly is supposed to be growing, but shrinking?  How would  you like to see a bunch of other pregnant women with similar due dates happily anticipating their arrival, when your daughter has already come and gone?  Well...I think it's pretty awful and I love my sweet friend JaLaine.  I love the beauty of her heart.  I love the way she loves all of her children, including Laena.  

"A great soul is someone who loves, even when it hurts."  

JaLaine is a great soul.  I'm grateful for the example of motherhood she is to me in my life.  She loves deeply and genuinely.  

Ethan

 How are the kids doing?  I have talked a little bit about Lincoln.  Now I'll tell you about Ethan.  He is the most tender and sweet.  His little heart understands what has happened, but he is still pretty young (7), and doesn't seem to be negatively affected emotionally.  He talks about Eli quite a bit, but does it in a matter of fact way.  Here are some examples:

The other day he wanted to write Eli's name on our Family Night assignment board.  I asked him what Eli would do for family night.  He said that we could just leave Eli's name on the closing prayer because he could still say the closing prayer...even if he was in heaven.  He always remembers and wants Eli to be included in family activities.

For Christmas, we put up a stocking for Eli.  I wasn't sure what we would do with it, but he is part of our family, and one of my children, and it seemed wrong not to put one up for him.  I didn't buy anything to put in it.  I wasn't sure what to buy.  The whole situation was very odd for me.  Everything was still so fresh and  I couldn't go anywhere in my thought process mid-December.  On Christmas Eve, Ethan made three small gifts for Eli: a candy cane made out of pipe cleaners and beads, a "flute" made out of a old toilet paper roll, and a homemade paper snowflake.  On Christmas morning, I actually had a hard time when there was nothing in Eli's stocking.  It just hung there, kind of limp and it made me sad that I hadn't bought anything.  It's not like he would use it, but I think next year I will buy some things.  It is more about me doing something and treating him like my child than anything else.  But, Ethan saved the day because Eli's stocking did have those three small gifts in it.  Ethan made those same things for everyone and it was no different for him to do it for Eli.  I couldn't have bought anything that would have been as special as the things he made.  Katelyn gave him a hard time about it (I will tell you about her another time), but Ethan was undeterred.  (I definitely talked to her about it!)

When Tawny brought the kids home from the hospital on November 5th, they knew that Eli had passed away.  She very sweetly put them to bed.  What a terribly burdensome responsibility to do something like that after such an eventful and emotion filled day.  I'm sure she had no idea what state of mind they would be in...  I can't even thank Tawny enough for what she did...

As a family, we sing a song to Eli every night.  We started doing it in July.  As the time grew closer for Eli to come, I was so worried about what we would do after he passed away.  Would we still sing the song?  Would that chapter be over?  I never talked about this with anyone.  I just couldn't bear the thought that we would have a "last time" to sing the song to him.  So, when Tawny brought the kids home, Ethan wanted to sing the song to Eli before bed.  Katelyn said that he couldn't sing it anymore because Eli had died.  Tawny, sweetly explained that he could still sing it to Eli.  Eli would still be able to hear him...even in heaven.  So, Ethan sang the song, fully trusting Tawny's words.  We still sing the song.

I just love Ethan so much.  He ha simple and resolute faith.  He hasn't been too emotional about Eli.  He takes everything at face value.  I love that he talks about Eli and very much considers him to be his little brother.  He always wants to make sure that Eli is included and that Eli knows we love him. 

Keep calm

Jeffrey R. Holland

We had our last ultrasound on October 28th.  We knew, without a doubt, it would be our last one.  We knew that we would have to pick the day Eli would be born after consulting with our doctor.  Every time I walked into the hospital to have an ultrasound, after July 3rd, I imagined the day I would walk in and head up to the 5th floor to deliver Eli.  I sat in the waiting room with Katelyn and Ethan.  It had become my habit to look at the floor or my phone and disconnect from what was going on around me.  But, for some reason, I was looking around that day.  I was looking off to my right thinking: "I hate this place.  I wonder if this is what hell is like..."  Now, I don't really think hell is like that, but it was the best way I could describe my feelings of angst to myself.  In my moments of contemplation I saw someone walk around the corner.  Guess who it was!

It was Jeffrey R. Holland!  I watched him for a second, trying to decipher if this was really him.  I realized that it was!  I watched him walk from my right, across the lobby, and out the revolving door.  He was walking fast.  It looked like he was on a mission...very focused; not a leisurely stroll.  Anyways.... I thought I should run over to him and grab him.  That is not something I would normally do.  I would feel too insecure to do something like that. But, I wanted to, and considered it.  I was REALLY big and had my two kids and didn't think there was any way I could catch him anyways.  I hoped he would stop by the valet and wait for his car, so I could walk out and talk to him.  I don't know what I would have said?  I sat there in a daze, stunned at what had just happened. "Maybe this isn't hell," I thought.

I was content that I had just SEEN him in my moments of anxiety.  Jason came around the corner and sat by me. I told him what had just occurred.  He asked where he went and I realized, very quickly, that he was going to try to find him for me.  I thought it was the sweetest thing ever, but was pretty convinced that he was long gone.  I appreciated what he was doing though... So, Jason walked outside looking for him.  He walked toward the parking garage.  He had almost given up hope when he saw someone walking back towards him.  At first, he didn't think it was Elder Holland, but as he got closer, he realized it was.  He quickly sat down on a nearby bench....maybe trying to look casual.  How do you approach an apostle?  Especially one who is walking so fast?!  When he came closer, Jason stood up and said "Hi."  (Because what can you say that is more eloquent than that?) Jason asked him if he was in a hurry and he said "kind of." Jason asked if he could walk with him and he readily agreed.  Elder Holland asked his name, and Jason responded.  He said "Hi Jason."  He explained to Elder Holland what I had been thinking while waiting in the waiting room.  He may have edited the exact wording.... Elder Holland responded that hospitals can be a tough place.  Jason asked him if everything was okay and he responded that his wife was there, but that she was doing much better. Jason was so happy he had asked!  Then, Elder Holland asked why we were there.  Jason explained that we were having our fourth child and that he wasn't expected to live.  We were there for our last ultrasound.  He stopped suddenly, put his hands on Jason's shoulders, looked him in the eye, and said "Jason, everything is going to be okay."  And then gave him a big bear hug.  They walked past the valet and Elder Holland threw his keys to the boys there.

I saw them as they came walking through the revolving doors.  Elder Holland had his arm around Jason's waist and Jason had his around Elder Hollands shoulders.  I have been told that my eyes were quite wide at that moment.  I could NOT believe that Jason found him and that they looked like old friends.  I immediately jumped up (as well as I could with my sizable belly) and hurried over to meet them.  Jason introduced me and I stuck out my hand to shake his.  He ignored my outstretched hand, and embraced me in true Elder Holland fashion.  I just started to cry.  He said that everything was going to be okay.  I believed him.  I felt like even though I had just met him, and had no personal history with him, he knew something about me that I didn't.  This may sound odd, but I was so happy that he didn't approach me with a look of sadness in his eyes and say how sorry he was.  I felt like that was the response I got from everyone.  It was appreciated, but I didn't need someone else feeling bad for me while looking at the ground.  I needed someone to skip over that and tell me it was going to be okay... someone who actually had the authority to say it!  I was glad he didn't preface his remarks by saying he was sorry.  I'm not sorry for the experience.  I'm not sorry I have Eli.  I'm not sorry for any of it.  I'm not even sorry for the pain....because it means I love him dearly.  I haven't enjoyed every second of it, but I'm not sorry to be Eli's mother.  I feel  privileged to be his mother; no  matter the costs associated with it. 

He released his embrace and looked into my eyes.  He put his hand on my cheek and told me it was going to be okay. He was very adamant as he spoke.  He spoke with fervor and resolve.  He wasn't just trying to make me feel better.  He didn't say it tenderly... he said it passionately.  I started to rambling on about how I hated this place, but then I saw him and decided that maybe I didn't hate it.  I told him I had read a talk by him just that morning; Cast Not Away Therefore Thy Confidence.  I wasn't trying to look extra righteous... it had been an answer to some questions I had, and I wanted to tell him so.  I couldn't believe the timing on that point. 

He turned to leave and then turned back and asked us to let him know how everything turned out.  We were left totally speechless. Of all the people in ALL the world, I don't know if there is another person that would have helped me more in that moment.  Who else could speak with that kind of determination?  I didn't need someone soft and squishy.  I needed someone who meant business and didn't mess around.  I needed someone that was loving, but firm in conviction.  I needed someone that I greatly admired.  I needed someone I could trust. I needed Elder Holland! I don't care a great deal for movie or music stars.  I can't even think of anyone I would really want to meet in the entertainment business.  So, Elder Holland is the biggest celebrity that I could imagine at that, or any moment.  The thing that was so amazing to me is that I didn't feel like I necessarily needed it at that moment.  And that's why it was so special.  He came before the moments of my absolute extremity to reassure me that all would be well.

The kids were just staring at us while we talked.  I was so engrossed in what was happening that I didn't even realize they were peeking over the waiting room chairs, until after he was gone.  I felt so bad that I hadn't brought them over to shake hands with him.  The kids asked if he knew us.  I said, "Now he does." He had  talked with us as if we were old friends.  Katelyn and Ethan sensed this, which is why they asked us.  I thought it so beautiful that he talked with us that way. He was so personal.  He didn't act hurried, even though is was obvious that he was.  He was sincerely interested in our family.  

We walked back to our ultrasound room.  Before the appointment, I had been nervous that Eli was still breech and that it would make the delivery more complicated.  I was worried about a lot of things. After we talked with Elder Holland I felt like saying," Hey...he's breech, he's not...whatever...Elder Holland said I'm going to be okay." I wasn't worried or scared.  I had complete confidence in his words.  I hang onto those words still.

21 days

I always look forward to December 22nd.  December 21st has the least amount of sunlight of any day of the year...making it the darkest day of the year.  I like that day after this because we get closer and closer to more light.  I like this for literal and figurative reasons.  

I went to the cemetery on December 21st.  I take a picture each time I go.  As I was driving in that day, I had the feeling that this was becoming very familiar and routine for me...like a habit.  I have heard that it takes 21 days to form a habit (some people say 28 or 31 days, but that is besides the point).  I wondered how many times I had gone to the cemetery since Eli died.  I looked at the pictures I had taken on my phone.  I had been there exactly 21 times.   I thought that interesting.  

And another funny thing about the number 21.  Today is January 21, which Katelyn informed me is my half-birthday.  We don't celebrate half-birthdays at our house or anything, but Katelyn always seems to remember them.  I have a vivid memory of my actual birthday last year.  It had only been 6 days since we found out about Eli's diagnosis.  I remember those feelings very well.  Me and Jason went out to dinner.  We wanted to keep living our lives as best we could.  We had a quiet dinner and talked about Eli.  We talked about what we felt was right for him. Jason expressed the desire to give him a name and a blessing if time allowed.  

We went for a walk on along Provo river after dinner and talked. We talked about what we could put in his casket when he died.  We talked about burying him.  I remember our exact location and what the river looked like during each detail of our conversation.  We didn't talk about those things a great deal after that day.  We became too connected to him and the thought of actually putting him in a casket was sickening.  We decided to wait until we HAD to talk about it and trust that God would guide us through those things when the time came.  He did

And then there were 5

Is the "baby" thing hard for me?

New pregnancies being announced...babies being born....going to baby blessing, etc..

Yes.

If this really is a problem for me, I am living in the wrong ward and the wrong county.

I have tried to figure out why.  I'm not sure all the reasons besides the obvious ones.

When I found out I was pregnant, I knew that 2 of my my sister-in-laws and very good friend next door were also pregnant.  It was exciting!  A couple of weeks later I found out that my sister and my other very good friend who lives behind me were also pregnant.  I don't have a ton of very close friends, so finding out that 2 of my closest friends were pregnant was so fun.  We had never had babies right at the same time.  We have an open back yard and all the kids play together. I imagined our babies learning to do things at the same time and becoming friends.  Sharing bikes and stealing sippy cups... What a great thing!

So it worked out that my little circle of family and friends were expecting one baby in August, 2 in September, 2 in November, and 1 in December. Girl, boy, boy, boy, girl, girl. SO there would be 6 beautiful babies born in a short span of 4 months....but only 5 would stay here with their families. That is hard for me.  It makes me feel singled out.

It has been hard to see a baby born every 3 or 4 weeks since we found out that Eli would not stay with us.   Not just "someone's" baby, but a baby that I will grow up around and love and become very well acquainted with.  All the babies have been born and gone home with the expectation of leading a full and happy life.  But, that is not what happened to me.  Each new joy reminded me of my own pain and intensified it.  My wound is so raw still and the birth of each new baby rubbed it hard.  I tried to not let it.  I love these women and I love their babies, but oh.... how I love Eli. How I miss him.  How I long for him.

It's not even that I want their baby or their life. I want my Eli.  I want what I have...but there is pain with what I want and can't have right now.

Just when the "last" baby of the mix had been born I thought I might be okay for a bit.  But... there also comes a steady stream of baby blessings when you have a steady stream of babies.

Why are the baby blessings so hard?  I have tried to figure this out too. We were able to bless Eli, so I didn't think I would feel immense difficulty with each baby blessing that came.  But, they have profoundly affected me.  I think its because a baby blessing usually signifies the beginning of beautiful things.  A beautiful life with hope and possibilities and expectations.  Birth signifies a beginning, and beginnings fill our souls and minds with newness and hope.  It makes us reverent and grateful for the opportunity to shape and mold and watch this little bundle of joy grow into something beautiful.  They have yet to bloom.

But Eli's baby blessing signified that the beginning was overshadowed by the end. Each new baby blessing reminds me that everyone else's beginning, was our end.

How can you say hello and goodbye at the same time.  It is pretty difficult.  Our "hello" and "goodbye" were almost one fluid motion.  They weren't separated. We knew, just seconds after he was born, that goodbye would be soon.  We didn't get a separate occasions for these very important events.  We had just met him and knew that he would be gone.

Eli's baby blessing was very sacred and beautiful.  He wasn't blessed with the "standard" things... healthy body, ability to make good choices, eventually to serve a mission and get married in the temple.  That wasn't his mission in this life. His blessing was so rich and beautiful and simple.  It was more a privilege to give him a blessing than a need for him to have one.  I am not sad that his blessing was different.  I am grateful and in awe.  I think of his blessing often and especially during the other blessings I have attended in the recent past. I am so aware how different it was because I have heard so many lately.  It was different because HE was different.

The "normal" way to bless a baby is to wait until they are a couple of months old, invite you whole family to sacrament meeting, and have a big luncheon afterwards. I think the thing that is hard for me is that when I see the "normal" occurring, I realize that my dreams of the future were lost.  My dreams of raising him right now are lost.  I'm reminded that it isn't normal to try and bless him as quickly as we could before he died.  I am not sad that I have Eli and that his plan is different.  I am just sad because I am not with him.

When we first found out about Eli's diagnosis, I thought it interesting that all these babies were coming at the same time.  I don't think the world revolves around me, but I did find it significant.  Interesting is definitely the word I used for the first few months.  As time went on, and baby after baby was born and blessing after blessing was attended, the word changed from interesting to hard and finally bitter. It created a bitterness in my soul and I cried out in anger.  How can this be?  Why did it have to happen THIS way?  Why do I have to watch it OVER AND OVER AND OVER again?  Just when I think I have recovered from the last blow another comes along.  It seemed perfectly spaced to provide the most pain. It is incessant and became more weight than I can bear.

I don't want anyone else's life, because that would mean Eli isn't mine and I want him...not someone else. I don't care what the cost is to have him; he is the one I want.  But watching everyone's lives go on WITH their precious new beginning reminds me over and over that my end with Eli came too soon for me.  Saying goodbye to him anytime before I died would have been too soon for me.  There is never a "good" time to lose a child.  We all hope to beat our kids to the grave.  I lost this race.

When I watch their lives go on, I am profoundly aware that they have started a new life WITH their baby and I have started a new life WITHOUT mine.  Our lives that I thought would be the same and full of talks about breastfeeding and teething are now so different that I don't know what to talk about...or if I should even talk at all.

It is a reminder of the future I was planning is lost.  It is a reminder of his immediate future with me lost.  It is a reminder that a beautiful and much anticipated hello was very complicated by an impending and almost immediate goodbye.  It is a reminder that while most births usher in a

beginning, ours ushered in an ending.

You think that you would love your child less if you didn't have an official hello or a long time to say hello. But it just isn't the case. You love them the same, but you know less about them. You think you would love them less if you know them less, but you don't. It's very bizarre. So you want to know them because you love them. You yearn to know who this person is that you have such intense love for. It's very backwards from the way we usually experience things. We usually grow to love someone as we grow to know them. But with your children you love them before you know them. And when you don't get to know them it complicates things.  Your heart gets confused. How can I love someone so much that I barely know? But I wouldn't say that I barely know Eli. I feel like I know him quite well. But I know him in such a different way and than I know everyone else. I know everyone else because I can see them and look into their eyes and watch their rhythm. But I can't do anything physical with Eli. I can't see him or hear him or smell him or touch him. But I can feel him with my spirit. So I do know him. It is a very different kind of relationship and very sacred. I have to be quieter to find him. I have to approach life differently to find him

Even though we knew he was going to die, he was still very much alive to us...up until the time when he did actually die.  

Provo Tabernacle part 2

They are rebuilding the tabernacle. It will now be a temple.  The only thing that will be done there will be saving ordinances.  The old tabernacle hosted many beautiful and spiritual gatherings, but the work that was done there wasn't absolutely essential to salvation.  Now we have to rebuild our lives. As I have watched the tabernacle be rebuilt, I am amazed and overwhelmed at the process of it.  It is taking a long time...  I think it is amazing that they are reinforcing the originally structure instead leveling it and starting over.  I have thought about that idea a lot.  Why didn't they just start over?  It would have taken far less time and money and effort?  Why did they value the original foundation so much?  They value the ORIGINAL.  They didn't want to do a "redo."  The original foundation had to be included to make it the sacred place it was always meant to be. I could go on and on about that.  But, it is a comforting thought. It wasn't meant to be completely destroyed even though we all seemed to fear that when we saw it on fire.

We have to rebuild our "tabernacle" into a "temple" too.  We have to reinforce our original foundation.  When I say "we" I am referring mostly to me and Jason. We have to clean out the stuff that doesn't belong there and bring in a crew to help us.  We need the right tools and materials.  We can't be angry that it burned down (not for too long anyways...).  We need patience and perseverance. We need faith that somehow this is going to be a better place than the previous building. Completely destroyed in less than a day and years to rebuild!  Isn't that how a lot of destruction happens...quickly.  you never rebuild quickly. And you need lots of help.  And sometimes lots of help feels uncomfortable (that's a nice adjective to describe my feelings).

As you make plans to rebuild, it is exciting.  You try to remember all the good you had before and include it in the plans. If you want to put in an extra bathroom or a walk-in closet, now is the time. You start my constructing in your head and on paper.  And then the actual work begins.

The ground breaking ceremony is almost like a rebirth of the original building.  It signifies the start of a beautiful undertaking.  It is the beginning of the future.  I found it particularly significant when I found the picture of Elder Holland at the ground breaking.  We had a very special and personal experience with Elder Holland the week before we had Eli.

And there are miracles, even in the midst of the fire.  Many miracles.  It reminds me of the picture that the fire fighters found in the rubble of the tabernacle. It was the picture painted by Harry Anderson: "The Second Coming."  The print was entirely black, except around the outline of Christ.  How fitting that it was the picture of the second coming (for me, at least).  The building of this tabernacle into a temple will help usher in the second coming of our Savior.  It is the thing we can and should look forward to.  God is building more temples right now.  They are important for the salvation of families.

I like the picture that depicts how the temple will look after it is completed.  I got a kick out of the fact that there is a white Chevy Malibu driving on the road in front of the temple.  Jason has that exact car...it looks like the same year.  I guess we will be there.  It's hard to imagine our life after our fire.  It's hard for me to draw up plans for how I want the new building to look.  But, I think you have to clear a little rubble out before your mind is clear enough to the planning phase.  Planning and rebuilding is a lot of work, but it is hopeful work.