Service Through a Dress

I decided I wanted to start chronicling (ummm is that the weirdest word in the history of words?) some stories and memories about my mom.

It has been almost 4 years since she passed away, which is so crazy to me.  I haven't spoken to my mom in 4 years!  I still have her in my favorites on my phone, though her number now belongs to someone else. When she first passed away, I found myself reaching for my phone multiple times a day to call or text her, and I still can't bear to delete her information.  It's almost like that would be forgetting her or something.  Every once in a while I'll go look at her Facebook page, too, just to remind myself that there is still evidence of her, that her life hasn't completely disappeared.  It's the weirdest thing to think about her being gone.  How is it that someone is just not here anymore?  One day they are living, breathing, worrying, and the next, nothing.  I honestly don't know how people get through losing a loved one without a belief in an afterlife.

So.  Stories about my mom.  I've told this one to some people, but haven't written it down.  Here goes.

When I was a senior in high school I was really really busy.  I was in a lot of AP classes (like honors classes), I was in ASB (student government), I had a part time job (as the janitor at a dental office, now if you want to talk about glamorous...), and I was on a competitive club cheerleading team that practiced 3 times a week an hour away from my house.  I also attended early morning seminary (a class put on by my church where we studied books of scripture) that started at 5:45 AM.  That's right.  Needless to say I was exhausted pretty much all the time.  Senior Ball was coming up, and I was stressed because I had no time to go look for a dress, and in my 17 year old world that was a catastrophe.

I came home from school one day, two weeks before the dance exhausted as usual.  I walked in the front door to find formal dresses hung all over the living room.  Beautiful fabric, beautiful colors, sparkles and sequins.  As I sat there confused and looking around, my mom explained to me that she knew I was so busy and stressed, so she had gone to the mall that day to find me a dress.  She went to store after store, and looked at dress after dress, and bought 10 or 12 dresses that she thought I would like.  She brought them home and set them up for me so I could try them on and choose one.  She was like my own personal shopper, and my living room was transformed into my very own specialized dress shop.  I was so thankful that my sweet mom took time out of her own busy schedule (which certainly included things that actually mattered) to serve me and help me find a dress.  She could have easily said, "It's just a dress, it doesn't matter.  It's one dance that you will soon forget about."  Instead, she was wise enough to know that even though the dance didn't matter, I mattered.  Even though finding the right dress wasn't important, I was important.

I picked out a dress I loved from the ones she chose, and she returned the others the next day.   Though I do not remember much about that dance, I do remember the love of my sweet mother, and how I felt that love through a dress.

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.

Focus on the Flower

 

When I was in grad school one of my professors told us about the Lotus flower.  I have reflected on the symbolism of this flower many times, so I'm now sharing it with you.

The Lotus flower is sacred in Buddhism.  It means purity, cosmic harmony, potential, and enlightenment among other things.

But what is symbolic to me about this flower is where it comes from.  Lotus flowers grow in murky, swampy, shallow waters.  The seed emerges from the mud at the bottom of a swamp and blooms on the surface of the water.  There is the obvious symbolism that beautiful things are created from dark circumstances, and that is surely significant.  But there is another lesson in the flower.

Imagine being there.  In a swamp.  Shallow, warm, muddy.  Bugs everywhere.  A less than pleasant smell.  Hot, humid, murky as far as you can see.  And there, a Lotus flower.  Amidst the unpleasant surroundings, a beautiful flower has blossomed.  

What do we choose to focus on in our lives?  Are we so caught up in our murky circumstances that we fail to see the beautiful gift that is born from that very swamp?

Are we able to look past the swamp to appreciate the beauty of the flower? 

Without the swamp, there would be no blossom.

We all have swamps in our lives, and each swamp yields something beautiful that would not otherwise be there.  Find your Lotus blossom.  

Focus on the flower.