The BIG six

Well hi there. I tell you, this packing business is serious. And the cleaning, well, it has begun (and somehow will end by Saturday morning, don't ask me how).  Really and truly it all isn't so bad. It's the two active kiddos that want to be played with and held incessantly that makes it all so difficult. Good thing Jeremy's parents just drove into town. Debbie is on Ginny-holding duty all day tomorrow. No complaining allowed.

Well, that was a lengthy tangent because this post is NOT about packing or cleaning or moving. It's about the fact that today is Cinco de Mayo, also known as the day I came home from my mission SIX years ago.

You read that right. SIX!

I think I'm as shocked as you are. Except that at the same time, that mission feels like it happened a lifetime ago. Part of me really can't believe it's only six years ago. While the other part marvels that it was the equivalent of four missions ago (that's a year and half times four, in case you were confused). How did that happen?

If I had a scanner I would add some of my favorite mission pictures to this post (I can even still see the box I packed them in). But alas. Nothing is happier than blue skies and banana and mango trees in the background. Plus really and truly I have never been (and will hopefully never be again) so tan in my life as I was for the year and half I lived in Honduras. You should see it.

I had full intentions of writing a nostalgic post about that glorious time in my life. And the many many things I have learned in the past six years since then. But shoot, I tell you what, I am plum too tired to think that hard. All I can manage at the moment is this endless rambling. My appologies.

So I'll end with a happy Cinco de Mayo to you. And a happy six year anniversary to me.

The old ways

Tede's comment on my last post made me sink back into a well of memories and want to write about Honduras.


Living in Honduras is like stepping back in time 150 years. It is almost like being in some sort of new kind of reality. An odd mix between ancient and modern. At least in the places I spent my time.

The majority of the people have outhouses. Real outhouses that were outside--if they were lucky with a porcelain toilet. And yet, most people also had small rickety TVs inside, wired to who knows where. Go figure.

There are cowboys--young boys and old men riding donkeys and horses, herding the cows in and out of town. Wearing cowboy hats and flip flops, ragged t-shirts and cut-off jeans, some riding saddles, others without.

All over the pueblo you can smell the wood burning stoves--made from adobe with a metal trash-can-like disk being the stove above the fire. Cooking corn (for making tortillas) or the tortillas themselves, bottomless pots of small red beans, and rice. All the while little kids run barefoot in the dirt roads outside eating bags of potato chips and drinking bottles of coke a cola.

Hand drawn community wells are in some places, infrequent bouts of outdoor running water in other places. The pila (outdoor water basin) being the hub of the woman's life--a place to wash the food, clothes, children, and home--all with bucket-fulls of ice cold water.

Small uniformed children walk to and from school in crisply ironed white shirts and knee highs. While little siblings watch from the windows of adobe or cement brick homes. I marvel at how clean the women could get those white shirts when washed by hand at the pila.

Narrow two lane roads meander through curving mountain passes, trafficked with old American school buses crammed full people standing and sitting, holding their wares and hastily reaching out of windows during stops to buy from the food venders calling prices below them while pushing home-fried foods at them on long sticks.

Poorly paved highway roads dead end on Main Streets to trails of dust and dirt. Most small towns have only one paved road--for the buses. Donkeys outnumber cars in some areas, mingled with roaming pigs, chickens, and horses. In the summer, the dust of the roads settles on everything in sight--leaves, trees, and children's faces. Women systematically water, rub, and pat down their packed dirt floors to give the appearance of cement and decrease the loose flying dirt that inevitably eddies up in their small one or two room houses.

Self constructed stick-and-wire fences gate the adobe houses, fencing in the mango and papaya trees, pila, outhouse, and stray animals. Although most gates lay slack as children run eagerly to the nearest pulperia (corner store--out of a neighbor's front window) to spend their cents on candy, chips, and whatever is needed for the next meal by mama. Animals also come and go with ease. There is a definite air of freedom, openness, and community among close neighbors. By early afternoon the women have done their daily chores and cluster around soap operas; by late afternoons, the menfolk--home from their labors in the fields--lean against the door jams or crouch in the dirt and drink coffee, calling hallo to passerbys. By sundown, dim electric lights begin to flicker on, and then soon flicker off as families crowd into their rickety family beds, small children snuggle in hammocks hanging from the ceiling and all drift off. It is quiet as the stars hang low and bright in the sky.

Honduras is a mix of the yesterday and the today. It is it's own world and lifestyle, just as, I presume, most places are. Sometimes, I ache for the quiet simplicity of that life. But I know, that for all it's calmness, it is a hard life. It is a life, more often than not, of simple survival.  I used to muse that I would someday buy a small plot of land in some small obscure place in Honduras--somewhere in the mountains--and I would live in a house made with my own hands. I would spend my mornings making tortillas while watching the sun rise and the afternoons tending a garden or embroidering or washing clothes. By night I would write poetry and watch the stars glitter. And I would have many children--just as the Honduras women do--and call to them at twilight from the soft yellow light of my small home to come in and wash up.

Providing in the Lord's Way

"Let us work for what we need. Let us be self-reliant and independent. Salvation can be obtained on no other principle.  Salvation is an individual matter, and we must work out our salvation, in temporal as well as spiritual things."  --Marion G. Romney, Ensign Nov. 1976

So many thoughts, not sure where to start.

We talk a decent amount about politics at our house (shocking on my part, since I used to have a hard time remembering to watch the news, quite predictable on Jeremy's part).  I am grateful for the things I am learning and becoming passionate about. I can finally tell, with surprising clarity, the difference between a democrat and a republican. And I can say with certainty why I am one over the other. It only took me 27 years to figure out.

Anyhow, much of my background on anything (including politics) always goes back to the principles of Welfare that simply put are an essential part of who I am and how I think. I was a Welfare missionary (for the church) and then taught the Welfare sisters for a year at the MTC. The doctrines of self reliance and caring for the poor and needy have tender (and permanent) places in my heart.

It scares me (big time) when I see the world (and specifically the American Government) overriding and flat out rejecting principles that have been revealed through modern prophets to be the Lord's way of taking care of the needs of his children. The Lord, in fact, is very clear about how He would have it done:

    I, the Lord, stretched out the heavens, and built the earth, my very handiwork; and all things therein are mine.

    And it is my purpose to provide for my saints, for all things are mine.

     But it must needs be done in mine own way; and behold this is the way that I, the Lord, have decreed to provide for my saints, that the poor shall be exalted, in that the rich are made low.

    For the earth is full, and there is enough and to spare; yea, I prepared all things, and have given unto the children of men to be agents unto themselves.

   Therefore, if any man shall take of the abundance which I have made, and impart not his portion, according to the law of my gospel, unto the poor and the needy, he shall, with the wicked, lift up his eyes in hell being in torment. --D&C 104:14-18 (emphasis added)

Those are some strong words. It is clear that the Lord wants us to have the things we need, to be provided for. He has created this earth, and he has enabled us to be "agents unto [our]sevles." In other words, he wants us to be self reliant. To use the blessings and talents and opportunities the Lord has given to us to take care of ourselves and our families. Spencer W. Kimball has said,

"No true Latter-day Saint, while physically or emotionally able will voluntarily shift the burden of his own or his family's well-being to someone else. So long as he can, under the inspiration of the Lord, and with his own labors, he will supply himself and his family with the spiritual and temporal necessities of life."

But becoming self-reliant through hard physical, mental, and spiritual effort is not meant to bless our families alone. The Lord is equally clear that we have what we have in order to share. That the poor shall be exalted.

It is not the government's job to take care of our neighbors, it's our job. As individual agents. It's not our job to judge how or why someone has come to "have not", but to live up to the doctrine taught by the First Presidency in 1936 when the Church's welfare system was established:

"Our primary purpose was to set up, in so far as it might be possible, a system under which the curse of idleness would be done away with, the evils of the dole abolished, and independence, industry, thrift, and self respect be once more established amongst our people.  The aim of the Church is to help the people help themselves.  Work is to be re-enthroned as the ruling principle in the lives of our Church membership."

That's a very different purpose than what might be heard today in the government sector about the aims of welfare. Giving without helping someone to be reestablish independence isn't really giving at all. It is demeaning and destructive.  Not only to those who have received the dole, but to each of us who may come to think that we are no longer responsible to help our neighbors since it has been forced upon the rich.

What a terrible calamity for the welfare of our nation.

I'll be honest, when I say I'm not sure what to do about it. Politically, I mean. I'm not sure how to reverse the tide of false welfare doctrine. But I know that 1. we need to have a sure knowledge of the "Lord's Way," (for a fantastic place to start, go here) and 2. we need to actively live those principles, and 3. we need to do whatever necessary for our voices to be heard. Even if in the long run it doesn't make a difference. We must defend and uphold the Lord's way of providing for his children. 

I feel like I didn't even scratch the surface here (although if you've made it to the end of this post, I'm sure you feel like I said plenty). 

But, thoughts? What are we going to do about it?

All my love

Five year ago I was in Catacamas, Honduras as a missionary. And I was filled up with a deep and abiding love for the people of that beautiful place, for the Gospel of Jesus Christ, for my family. In a Valentine's letter I wrote home that year, these were my thoughts...

"I feel so filled with love today. I love to see missionaries happy. It was good to have a preparation day together to rejuvenate our spirits. I love the missionaries in the mission. I love my companion [Hermana Perez]. I shall miss her. She has been one of my favorite companions. We have so much fun together. I love sharing the gospel of Jesus Christ. In the last few days I have been asking in my prayers to feel the love of the Savior for me and for my investigators. I have had so many experiences of being in a lesson to talking with a member and suddenly I just feel an out pouring of love for that person. Often it has happened while singing a hymn. Song is a way we show our love for the Savior and often when we can feel His love for us.   I have also been praying more for each of you and have felt a deeper love and connection to you in the past week or so.  We are all so connected one to another by the love of the Savior.  Charity is His great love for each of us and the way we must feel love for each other.  Without charity, we are nothing.  We must learn to love one another and sacrifice for one another. It is what the Savior did.  It is how we can grow personally.  When we (collectively or individually) sin, we begin to isolate ourselves. Sin not only separates us from God, but from one another--our eternal family.  It is Satan's plan that we lose the connection, and it is the Savior's plan that were be a welding link of some kind (D&C 128:18).  We must fight to stay connected. We must sacrifice our own selves to do it.  There is no other way.  I feel a deep connection to each of you as you sacrifice to write to me, to mention my name in a prayer, etc.  I connect to you as I do the same.  I feel a deep love and connection to the Honduran people as I knock on their doors and climb the hills where they live, and pray for their hearts to be opened.  I feel a love and connection to my Savior as I study His life and His gospel, as I try to represent Him and try to emulate Him. ... I know He loves us. I know I cannot make it alone. It is WHY we came to earth as families.  Man was not made to be alone.  It is not part of the plan to come alone. We must join hands. We must love one another.  We must love as the Savior loves us. We must go and do what He is calling us to do and be.  Hand in hand--each connected and part of the family of God.  I have grown to love the Plan of Salvation. It is so complete.  So hopeful. I know this life is not the end.  The Father wants us to be connected with unbreakable bonds to Him forever.  So  much depends on us now.  It is so filling with loving. ..."

 I am glad Valentine's Day is on Sunday this year. It reminds me of the true Love of the Savior that we are striving to emulate.  I love this little day to help us remember and act on the love we feel for each other. I hope you have a love-ly day filled with true and real and lasting love.

All my love,

cj

The MTC

I was just singing a little "Swing Low Sweet Chariot" to the man child while changing his fuzzibunz and had an intense reminder of the joy of singing in the MTC. For the most part (when I taught there) I always had districts of missionaries that sounded so good singing. Mmmm. I loved being in a room full of male voices and being the solo soprano. My kind of harmony. Oh that music was joyful.

I also had wonderful singing experiences with my Welfare Sisters. My last group I remember in particular. It was a bitter/sweet week. The very last group of welfare sisters ever (Salt lake did away with us--a justified but tragic decision). There were only two sisters that week (a typical number) and one of them was a gal who had been in my BYU singles ward for the past year and a half. Sister Tippetts. She was fun and energtic and had an amazing singing voice. Goodness. Oh how I loved to sing the opening and closing song with that companionship. My kind of beautiful.

I'm so glad for happy, tender, sweet memories. They make me smile. They make me glad to be alive. Glad to have lived wonderful experiences. Glad that everyday has the potential for more. Who knows, in five years I may suddenly have the intense memory of singing to Raymond John at the top of my lungs while he grins ear to ear up at me from his changing table.

I hope so anyway.

Brace yourselves...

After much debate, deliberation (and too many Wal-mart runs) we've officially gone cloth. As in Cloth diapers.

Keep breathing.

A lot of factors played into this decision. Way back in pregnancy days Jeremy had come across a spreadsheet indicating cost saving benefits of cloth diapers. At the time my only experience with cloth was what I saw in Honduras. It was highly ineffective and quite frankly a mess. I wasn't so interested in joining that club anytime soon. I saw a few modern, American versions on the internet sometime thereafter and was appeased that it didn't have to be the pre-folded, safety-pinned version... but I still didn't give it much thought.

Then Raymond arrived. And in about 2 weeks our supply of gifted disposable diapers was quickly coming to an end. We made our first Wal-mart run for diapers. The pack of 92 lasted no more than two weeks. I started taking the idea of cloth seriously. Honestly, who can afford roughly $40 a month in diapers? Who wants to?

I started doing some serious research. Most of my early searching started from this blog: theclothdiaperreport.com. She gives a lot of basic information about different types of cloth diapers, brands, etc. Since I was completely novice, I started at the beginning.

There are a wide variety of cloth diapers out there: prefolds, pocket, all-in-ones, one size... the list goes on. That is not to mention brands. Wow. Who knew? I spent seriously a full week doing internet searches and trying to figure out what would work best for us.

In the end, we have purchased Fuzzibunz sized diapers. They are pocket diapers--meaning there is an insert that I stuff inside the diaper before use. The beautiful thing about Fuzzibunz is that I do not have to de-stuff the diaper before washing. I simply throw it in the washer and the rest is history.

Oh wait... that's the part about this whole thing that grosses most people out: the washing. So far, I must say it's pretty easy. I do not need to rinse or soak these bad boys. Like I said, I simply throw them in. Someday when Raymond has more solid bowel movements I will need to dump it in the toilet before stowing the diaper in my diaper bin awaiting wash. But that's all. From there I do a cold pre-rinse, and a regular wash cycle. And I only use 1/4-1/2 the detergent. Since we've bought the lower end of the recommended number to have on hand, I plan on washing about every other day. Not so bad.

They seem to do ok with leeks so far. They do need the recommended initial 5-6 washings to be the most leak proof... but they still only leak about as much as the disposables.

And the best part? Besides saving the land fills from billions of diapers... there will be no more Wal-mart runs in the near future.