A Stolen Scooter

So this 9 year old of mine got her scooter stolen from school yesterday.  She was there for an after school activity (until 4:15, so not late), and she and her friend left their scooters by the front door.  When they were finished and went out to go home both of their scooters were gone.  She came home with tears in her eyes asking why someone would take something that didn't belong to them.  It was a hard thing for me to see, and an even harder thing for me to explain.  I told her that sometimes people do things without thinking about who it will hurt, and we talked about keeping her scooter in a safer place next time.  This isn't the first time we've had scooters stolen from school (different school, 2 years ago), and it's so sad.  It's sad that someone would steal something from a child.  And it was likely another child, and that child will grow up to be an adult.  And that makes me even more sad.

And what makes me the most sad is knowing that this will not be the last time someone hurts her.  She will have her share of disappointments, and a few broken hearts, and the normal aches and pains that life brings.  And I wish I could protect her from it all.  And I wish I could make sure that she stays safe, emotionally as much as physically.  And I wish I could find a way to keep her from having the heartbreaking realization that life can be really, really hard.

This is why it is so important for me to teach her to turn to our loving Father in Heaven when life gets heavy.  To teach her to pray, really and truly and deeply pray.  To teach her to cry out to Him in her darkest moments.  Because He is the only one who will always, no matter what, no matter when, no matter where, always always be there for her.  For her.  He knows her and loves her and will be waiting for her to reach out to Him.  Just as He is waiting for you and me.  Whether it is over a stolen scooter, or a high school boyfriend, or the betrayal of a college roommate, or a difficult marriage, or a struggling child.  He is waiting to comfort and carry.

We just have to let Him.

The Loss of Another

There is so much heartache in this world.  Every person carries wounds, some that are obvious and many that are not.  I have started to notice this interesting phenomenon about other people's pain.  When I see someone who has experienced tragedy in their lives, whether through divorce, or death, or physical ailments or diseases, I want to peek into their lives and know all about them.  I want to know how they are coping.  I want to know about their pain.  I want to know what their life was like before and how it will be moving forward.  I think we are all like this.  This is why people like Stephanie Nielsen are so influential.  People flock to see tragedy.  And the recipient of that tragedy has the opportunity to share their stories to help lift others going through similar things and to be a message of hope and triumph to those watching.

Why do we rush to read about someone's heartache?  Is it because we are just nosy and judgmental?  I choose to believe there is a greater reason.  I choose to believe it is because we are compassionate.  When we see someone going through a great difficulty, we feel their pain.  We imagine how we would handle a similar situation.  We take their lessons and apply them into our lives.  And we gain a greater appreciation and gratitude for the blessings we enjoy.  In this way, we are helping each other.  We are learning and bettering our lives because of someone else's experiences.

Photo by Amelia Lyon

This is where my mind has been the past few days.  A close relative of my ex-husband recently experienced a horrific loss.  She and her husband lost their two and a half month old daughter to SIDS.  My heart has been grieving for them, and I have felt the weight of their loss in my own life.  Each time I look into the sweet face of my 2 year old, I feel it.  Each time my 7 year old wraps her arms around my waist in a quick hug, I feel it.  As I look through baby pictures of my girls, I feel it.  My heart is heavy.  So, so heavy.

And I am reminding myself to be a little more patient with the toddler messes.  And a little less irritated about the child who gets out of bed for one more hug.  And a little more thankful for the three beautiful children I've been blessed with in my life.  And it is for this reason that I am passing along the heartbreaking story of another.  So you readers can pray for their sweet family to feel peace and comfort during this time, and also so you can take the opportunity to evaluate your own life to find the things you take for granted.  Because someday, the moments that now overwhelm you will be fading memories.

To donate to this family for funeral expenses, please visit their donations page.

You are His

I feel the need to say thank you.  Thank you to those readers and friends who have been supportive and kind.  Let me give you some background, and this is going to get really personal.

I love to write.  I used to blog daily (years ago), and I have always been a story teller.  Not the kind of story teller that's a big fat liar (oh, she's a "story teller"), but just someone who can take an ordinary event and make it into a big, long, entertaining story.  Everyone in my family is like this, it's one of our family traits.  I think I'm the worst at it out of everyone in the fam, but that's an entirely different post altogether.

For the past few months I have been feeling more and more like I need to be writing again.  I have felt...compelled, I guess is the best way to say it.  And as I've thought about it, and tried to figure out how much time to put into it, and how to pursue it, I have found myself becoming discouraged.  I have been swimming in self-doubt and insecurity, and it's been confusing to me.  Why in the world would I be feeling so unsure?  It is just a blog!  No one cares if I write, or what I write.  If you feel like writing, Nikki, just write!  But time after time those dark voices would whisper that I wasn't good enough and shouldn't even try.

I had a conversation with my sister, Calee, who really helped me put things in perspective.  She reminded me that one of the most influential tools Satan uses in our life is self-doubt and fear.  And that if I really knew I was a daughter of God, if I really knew He was aware of me, that those dark voices would be quieted, and would not have as much influence on my decisions.

So, I hit my knees.  I asked Heavenly Father to remind me that He knows me.  I asked Him to remind me of my gifts, and to help me discover how He would have me use them.

Later that day, my prayer was answered.

I received a text from an old friend (who I do not talk with regularly) telling me how much she loved reading my blog and how uplifting it was to her. I felt God's love as I read her words.

Moments later, I received an email from another friend who I haven't been in touch with since high school (besides the sporadic liking each other's Facebook posts), telling me that she felt she needed to write and tell me how much she appreciates my posts.  She said that she knows it is difficult to make time to write every day, but that my posts have been helping her get through a difficult time.  Again, I felt like Heavenly Father was reminding me that there are reasons I've felt compelled to be writing.

Just a few minutes after I received that email, I got another email from a woman at church (my Relief Society President).  I am fairly new in our ward, and I don't know many people well.  I have chatted with this woman once or twice, but that is the extent of our interaction.  In her email she wrote that I had been on her mind lately, and that she felt she needed to tell me that I am special, and that Heavenly Father knows and loves me.

As I read through her email, my eyes filled with tears.  I felt overwhelming love from my Father in Heaven, who was gently reminding me over and over that He knows me, and through others, was encouraging me to follow the promptings I've been receiving regarding writing.  I cannot describe the intensity of the feeling.  I know that there is a God.  I know that not only is He all powerful, the Creator of all things, but He is also our loving Father.  He knows us.  Each of us.  He knows what you are struggling with right at this moment.  He knows the desires of your heart.  He knows your heartaches.

I know He knows mine.  And I know He knows yours.

If you are struggling with self-doubt or insecurity, with heartache or loss, with sadness or confusion I challenge you to do what I did.  To pray, and ask God to remind you of His love for you.  Ask Him to strengthen your testimony that you are His child.

Your answer may not come as mine did (there have been many times my answers to prayer have not been so quick or so obvious), but I know it will come.

Since this experience last week, there have been other emails and texts and comments and Facebook posts in continual answer to that prayer.  Thank you to those of you who have followed the promptings you have felt to reach out to me in some way.  You have been His answer.