Not Sticking with the Prepared Lesson

I'm teaching early morning Seminary this year and although I'm still writing, I think I'll include reflections of my class on this blog. Since seminary is a daily Bible study class, there may be more insight.

Today I prepared a class on the idea that we have each been called to a great work and that the purpose of our life is to find and fulfill it. I was pumped to get them motivated about their futures and feel empowered. Instead, we spent the entire time talking about the origin of the Book of Abraham, a subject I had only thought to touch on.

The thing is, I felt like we were focusing on the RIGHT thing, even though it wasn't at all what I had planned. As I was packing up, I sort of whined that we hadn't touched the planned topic and one of my wonderfully enthusiastic students made the comment that it was the best lesson because it was what they wanted to learn.

Not that as teacher we shouldn't prepare well, but the concept of customizing our study to the needs of the students surprised me. I hope for inspiration in the preparation and then wanted a tight, entertaining and inspirations production with interactive moments. When you've prepared well, it's sometimes even more difficult to put your prepared work aside to answer questions and go another direction. I'm glad I did and the other benefit is that I can use my planned remarks for tomorrow with very little preparation.

Writing "An Angel"

My latest project is due to hit bookstores in the next few weeks. It's a story about a mom who is asked to stand in for a weary angel for just one day. After flitting around doing what angels do all day, the mom flops in bed exhausted. She expects some great fanfare, but what she gets instead is much more valuable.

Like all projects "Could You Be an Angel" had an interesting beginning. It started with preparing an Enrichment Night. My RS counselor was impressed by Jeffrey R. Holland's talk of angels and wanted to do an angel-themed evening. We got a musical number, a craft, nice refreshments and a speaker, but there was something missing. I wasn't sure what.

As luck would have it, my sisters (I have seven) had planned our first ever sister's retreat about that same time. With three hours to kill on the plane, I took out a pad and pencil and worked the entire time on building this idea. The hardest part was figuring out what guardian angels actually do. I finally decided they mostly nugde and whisper, right at the moment you need it most.

My sister Julia is an incredible poet in her own right and helped me clean up my meter. Then I posted it on line where a few friends added their two cents. At last it was ready, and I copied it on scrolls tied with gold ribbon.

When the night of Enrichment came (now RS Meeting), my musical number canceled due to a cold and the craft person bugged out. I was sure the whole night would be a disaster. We had the angel food cake and strawberries, our keynote speaker and then I stood to deliver this poem.

As I spoke the room was silent and with my last word, I could tell it had really touched some people. It turned out to be a wonderful evening, and I felt the women left revitalized and ready to serve. Afterward, I put the poem away and didn't think about it for a while. Then a woman in my writing group suggested I submit it for publication and here it is.

It's awesome that the final product is inexpensive as a greeting card and can be used for a visiting teaching gift, mother's day card or simply something you give to anyone. It is written to be general enough for any audience, so you can even share it with your non-LDS friends.

A New Direction

So I promised myself I'd blog every day this week and if I don't get another goal accomplished (I've blown my diet and am still four loads behind on laundry) at least I'll get my blogging done.

While we were in the temple last week, my husband turned to me and asked, "Are you doing what the Lord wants you to?"

What a question???

I turned to him and shrugged. I know I could do better in every area of my life, but I think I've got the biggest rocks in place. I doing okay with cubscouts, the kids are thriving and a felt really guided to writing- so I guess the answer is yes.

But questions like that sometimes linger and this one did.

On Sunday morning I was lazing in bed late (we have eleven o'clock church) when I suddenly felt I should go a different direction. The last few weeks I have spent hours researching everything Herod in preparation for my next project, but this impression was so clear I didn't dare ignore it.

Three years ago I lost a baby and then four days later my father died. I had so many personal spiritual experiences and nothing short of miracles happen at that time that I wanted to write it out and share it, but stopped after getting about forty pages into it.

Well, out of nowhere I knew I needed to finish that project first.

Monday morning (yesterday) I started looking for my old file, but I've been through two computers since then. Greg gave me a backup disk, but it wasn't there either. I was ready to give up when he brought out a portable hard drive and sure enough it was there. So I started again.

I think my problem last time is that I tried to edit out the worst parts and so it wasn't really true. Who knows if I'll be brave enough to actually share it with anyone, but for some reason I'm writing.

Chance Meetings

So this morning I went aqua-jogging with my friend. As we were in the hot tub we saw the stake president's wife and waved. She jumped in the hot tub with us and we all began talking. Well, of course my visit to the doctor yesterday came up because SHE referred me to him. I'm supposed to follow up with a GP for chronic pain issues but have struggled to find a good one. The children are going to a man in the church but he is very young. Although great with kids, I wasn't confident he would fill my needs. I did go to a wonderful little Vietnamese doctor when I first moved here but he was a worker's comp doc and most of those are scam artists. Even though my visit with him was wonderful, I worried that there were no women or children in his waiting room both times I went- only huge blue collar workers.

Well, there in the hot tub I was talking to Arlene and asked who she went to and she told me that she had found this wonderful little Vietnamese doctor who is so wise. It was the same man, Dr. Vu. I was amazed. I guess the thing that got me the most is I prayed just last night that I would feel like I was getting better answers and this morning I feel I did. I guess Dr. Vu it is.

Then while I'm sitting there, Arlene introduces me to another writer in the area. I'm so excited. She is connected to a big group of women I'm looking forward to meeting. It was a great morning.

You Get the Right Answers, When You Ask the Right Questions

Funny, my eyes are opening again. I wrote yesterday for the first time in three weeks and its like I'm coming out of a thick fog. Good stuff! Maybe that's because taxes are done, my papers are all in to the loan officer, no big events are looming in the future and I've given up dragging my emotions behind me as I make this move. I'm just going to do it and capture the joy along the way

So church today was WONDERFUL!!! Bro. Brooksby spoke. He is a vital, elderly man who knew my grandparents and parents very well. He serves on a number of executive boards and travels extensively despite the fact that he is probably into his eighties. He told the story of a friend who went into a convenience store with him who suddenly said they had to go. When Bro. Brooksby asked why, he shrugged and they got in the car. Before long they came across an accident and his friend was the first to come to the aid of a young woman, perhaps saving her life. As they left he said to Bro. Brooksby that it was a good thing he had listened to the Spirit or he might have missed that assignment.

We have all read in the scriptures where Nephi went back to get the gold plates the last time "not knowing before hand what he should do." But Bro. Brooksby said that it was really important that we are where we need to be so that the Lord can use us as his instruments. My husband and I both know we need to be in this other house, although we don't know the reason and so we are going. I'm looking forward to the adventure- it just took me a while. We move next Saturday and the first three days of the week I'm spending as George's chauffeur. He is supposed to get his license on Thursday- yahoo! The week is going to be stuffed full but hopefully we'll make it through.

Sometimes You Just Need to Start Writing

I've been doing a lot of reading about plotting a book, laying out characters, creating a calendar of events and prep work that helps a story to be more solid and consistent. So I decided to try it. I had a rough idea of where I wanted my next novel to go but wasn't clear on conflicts or details and set aside an afternoon to diagram it out. Well, it was one of the worst afternoons of my life. Nothing. I couldn't envision my characters, I was constantly side-tracked and ended up wondering if I should abandon the story completely.

Then yesterday my cleaning lady came. I've never had a cleaning lady before but with my writing finally being published, my husband agreed and I LOVE her. She only comes once a week and when she gets here the house usually looks like a tornado hit it. We work in tandem. I do laundry and pick up the kids clothes and other junk, while she does the floors, bathrooms and windows. When she leaves, I love my house again and dance around feeling free! So after she left, I was in a great mood and pulled out the computer, wanting to create something fabulous. Without knowing where I was going, I just started writing. By the time the kids came home from school I had written eight pages of really good stuff. My setting was clarified as was my conflict. It was a fabulous day!

I guess what I need to learn from the experience is that different techniques work for different people. I do think when the first draft is finished, calendaring would be wonderful, but for me I'm not ready to go there until the story is written because I like the story to take form on its own. To unfold like a flower, rather than to be forced into a preconceived form. I hope that way the story is more believable, opens the readers eyes to a new perspective and touches their heart, encouraging them to action.

So today I'm on to chapter two. I don't quite know where it's going to go, but that is the fun of it.

Testimony Meeting

This Sunday I sat in the middle of the row. With my huge teenage boys and husband on either side of me and Anna, Sarah, William and Camron at the edges so I was sure to be safe and trapped. There was no way I was going to stand to bear my testimony. I'd been feeling off all morning and was worried about it.

The bishop began the meeting by sharing about a miserable defeat he had in court this week. He is a lawyer and I think the term he used is that "he got creamed." He spoke of personal times in his life where he was dispondent and discouraged (his first wife died of cancer), but his patriarchal blessing warned him that was the devil's tool and he needed to overcome those feelings.

The next man who got up was our high councilman who told his story. He too had lost a wife to cancer but just recently. When this happened he totally shut down, even stopped attending most of his meetings. So the Stake President called him to be a high councilman. He prayed about it and realized that he needed to stand up and do what he should so that he could be with his wife again. He said that he was filled with the assurance that he was going to do what it took to be in the Celestial Kingdom and that eventhough she was in heaven, that they were both learning the things that they needed to at this time. It was remarkable to see the healing. Then last week the Stake President called him to be in charge of the older singles- that man is going to be snatched up in a heartbeat.

Speaking of heartbeats, you could hear mine from across the room. I sat there knowing I should stand, my heart pounding, until I squeezed out of my comfort zone and stood. Literally, I'm not sure what I said. I talked about how we can't change some feelings on our own. Those changes are gifts of the Spirit. The lifting of grief, the desire to move forward, the hope that we can make it come as we open our minds and hearts to Christ. I ended with telling about a friend who asked me once "what if it's not true." I laughed because I've seen and heard too much with my own eyes and ears. I know it is true without a doubt. That isn't even the question. The question is "Am I true?" and that's a question I'm still trying to work out day by day.

I sat down feeling like just once I'd like to be an example of what to do, instead of what not to do. But I also knew I had fulfilled what I was asked and smiled because I was asked. If my prayers weren't answered so miraculously time after time, if I hadn't been given impressions that have saved my family from heartache and if I never felt compelled to stand up or speak out when I really didn't want to, I would mourn for the loss. It is nice to feel like the Lord loves you enough to ask. You know?