I wondered.

After all, as the youngest child in a large family, our Elizabeth has seldom independently faced many of the challenges her older siblings have faced, mainly because there has usually been someone around to help her.  It seems we have consistently come to her aid when she’s asked for assistance. And all of our well-meant support has come rather easily for this lucky daughter, especially when she’s tried to tackle some seemingly overwhelming tasks – like quickly tying her own shoes or cleaning up big messes.

While I believe that giving our children responsibility generally increases their capability and rescuing them often promotes laziness and entitlement, to be completely honest…I am surprisingly similar my young, reliant daughter. I try to be independent, strong and capable. I really do. Yet I’m sometimes weak and overwhelmed by the tasks before me. Like Elizabeth, I often depend on those more experienced and knowledgeable than I am for help.

In fact, I rely upon my Heavenly Father for help daily, hourly, and even moment-to-moment!

And although I haven’t personally experienced a fraction of what He has faced, thankfully, that’s not a prerequisite for receiving his help.

Only “asking” is…

So, the next time your child asks for a little help, be patient.

And remember you’ll be on your knees asking for help in a minute or two.

Asking for help doesn’t make you weak.

It makes you able.

“I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me.”
-Philippians 4:13

At the height of the chaos, she heard a knock at her door. My friend’s neighbor was standing there, without a casserole, without a cake, but with eyes to see what was truly needed at that dark hour. Instantly noticing that the children were all wild and free, she rounded them up in her minivan and took them to a movie so my friend could focus on her mother’s funeral.

This neighbor didn’t just make a call, or make some cookies, she showed up. She saw what was truly needed at that moment through the Spirit. I think most of us genuinely aspire to be like this good neighbor, much like the Good Samaritan who truly “saw” someone in need in Luke 10:33-34.

But a certain Samaritan, as he journeyed, came where he was: and when he saw him, he had compassion on him … then said Jesus unto him, “Go, and do thou likewise.”

Each day we come across the wounded, the overwhelmed, or the needy. (And many of them live in our homes, or share our last name!) Let’s simply follow the Savior’s command by trying our best to be good mothers, good friends, and good neighbors ourselves. Let’s each aspire to truly “see” them as Christ sees them…

…the way He sees us.

The tall son grasped the hood of his mother’s coat, the husband held his wife’s hand, and the daughters clutched their mother’s arm as the bumpy subway car rattled down the dimly lit track. Every person in that little group was – in some way – clinging to this woman as they listened carefully to whatever she was saying. I had no idea what words she was using at that particular moment, but I had some idea of the feelings she was conveying by watching her family members all warmly respond to her message.

Seeing this gentle mother hold so tightly to the strong metal bar above the subway door, with her family all surrounding her, was a striking visual image to me that I hope I will never forget. That moment, that picture, reaffirmed to my heart that our families look to us – they cling to us – seeking stability and guidance when the journey is unquestionably bumpy and dim.

Mothers provide a constant, steady foundation for the family. And though many of us may feel weak and imperfect, hardly “rock-like” at all, we simply must resist the urge to feel powerless and undervalued.
We must hold on to the bar…

no matter how rough the ride…

or how long the journey.

Our families depend upon it.

When I could stand it no longer, I gave myself a little “time out” and escaped to my room, opened up my scriptures, and expected a miracle. My book fell open to Genesis 20:6, where the only highlighted verse on the page read:

“And Sarah said, ‘God hath made me to laugh, so that all that hear will laugh with me.’ ”

Wow. Now I have always believed that God has a keen sense of humor. After all, he gave the ultimate nod on the duck billed platypus, the giraffe, and the ostrich, but this was too much. Coincidence? I think not.

Truthfully, I acknowledge the context in which Sarah uttered these profound words. Her husband was a hundred years old when her son, Isaac, was born — and she was no spring chicken herself.  But I had to smile at the relevance of her insightful comment in my personal situation…in every mother’s situation, now and then.

Mothers HAVE to laugh, because if we don’t – NO ONE DOES! Trust me, I’m not an expert at following this advice, but I believe it with all of my heart. “When mama ain’t happy, ain’t no one happy!”

So, the moral of this little message is simple:

Be happy.

And when you just can’t bring yourself to feel it or fake it…retire to your room with the scriptures. They’ll put a smile on your face.

(They can even make you laugh.)

I’ve come to the frightening conclusion that I am the decisive element [in my home]. It’s my personal approach that creates the climate. It’s my daily mood that makes the weather. As a teacher [a mother], I possess a tremendous power to make a child’s life miserable or joyous. I can be a tool of torture or an instrument of inspiration. I can humiliate or humor, hurt or heal. In all situations, it is my response that decides whether a crisis will be escalated or de-escalated . . . and a child humanized or de-humanized. (Haim Ginott,Teacher and Child: A Book for Teachers and Parents [New York: Macmillan, 1972], 15; adapted from the German philosopher Goethe)

I had a similar reflective reaction during the April 2010 General Conference when Boyd K. Packer boldly stated, “Unless we enlist the attention of the mothers and daughters and sisters—who have influence on their husbands, fathers, sons, and brothers—we cannot progress [in the priesthood]” (Ensign, May 2010, 7).

Do we have even the slightest notion of just how incredible our potential for influence is as women? Have we ever stopped long enough to truly analyze how well we are personally using this God-given power?

I believe Satan is taking careful note of it.

In fact, I sense that masking our tremendous influence as women has been one of the adversary’s most-used tactical weapons during these final scenes here on earth; he daily attempts to blind us, to perplex us, and to place stifling self-doubts in our minds.

Do we allow him to succeed?

With increased awareness of this sacred duty, I am personally reconsidering how I daily use my influence as a wife, mother, sister, daughter, leader, and friend. Not only for the sake of “climate control” in my home, but for the sake of eternal progression.

Just one more little thing to ponder, in all that spare time of yours.

Weeks ago, I had noticed the light seemed dimmer. In fact, I vaguely remembered having two similar experiences with popping light bulbs while working in that room. But I quickly dismissed them because I could still manage on the remaining light.

I knew that replenishing any one of the three bulbs in my light fixture would require a ladder, a bulb, effort, and time on my part. “I’ll just do it later,” I thought to myself as I decidedly adjusted to the lower levels of light.

While musing on this seemingly insignificant event, I have developed a simple analogy to which most women – especially mothers – might relate. I speak of gradual dimming.

Each one of us starts out as a bright and glowing young child – hopeful, optimistic, and believing. But, over the course of our lives, we each encounter “light-bursting” experiences – defining moments where we either chose to replenish our lights, or simply to live on less.

During these moments we may become tempted to rationalize, “It takes so much energy to replenish my light and I simply don’t have the time right now,” as the increasing darkness, being ever so gradual, becomes our new normal.

But without constantly replenishing our own light supply, over time our spirits unquestionably dim and we may sadly find ourselves feeling our way through the darkness of confusion and discouragement. We owe it to ourselves, to our families, and to all those who depend upon our light, to protect and care for this most precious asset.

So this Mother’s Day, if you’re experiencing the gradual dimming we each feel from time to time, resolve to gather your figurative ladders, bulbs, and courage by replenishing your spiritual light through daily prayer, mediation, and scripture study.

If we are willing to make the effort, I am confident we will each be flooded with an increased appreciation and love for of the Light of the World, our friend and Savior, Jesus Christ.

“That which is of God is light; and he that receiveth light, and continueth in God, receiveth more light; and that light groweth brighter and brighter until the perfect day.” (D&C 50:23–24)

But while at the Orlando event, I met a woman who had become unexplainably blind eleven days after taking this very medication. Would my daughter also have had a similar adverse reaction to this drug? I’ll never know. But, for me, this experience felt like a gift from the Lord. I was able to met and connect with this brave woman on a spiritual level I will never forget, and she blessed my life with her courage and testimony. Don’t we love and need Time Out for Women!

Can’t wait to see you again,

DeAnne Flynn

With seven active children, bleach has become my trusted companion – often saving a seemingly hopeless article of clothing. It has disinfected things I would only touch with rubber gloves and a gas mask. But my careless use of this powerful aid has also ruined many more things than I’d care to admit.

Once, in haste, some drops of bleach landed on my favorite laundry room rug. I noticed these drops right away and tried to rinse them out quickly, but the power of that bleach proved to be immediate and irreversible. The next day, I carefully colored the spots in with a mustard colored marker. (I challenge you to find one of those!) It helped, but I’m still reminded of that mistake every time I do my wash. Those bleach spots have taught me a priceless lesson.

You see, bleach is a lot like words.The words we choose can lift and mend, restore and renew. They can also permanently damage and deface. Words are quick and powerful. Once uttered, they cannot be retracted. Whether we use them with care and respect, or thoughtlessness and haste, words can (and do) change lives forever.

I’ll never forget the time I overheard some friends joking about some of my weaknesses to one another in a mean-spirited way. When they realized I had heard them, they quickly came and asked to be forgiven. I did forgive, but the experience has been difficult to forget. Like bleach, the cruel stain was immediate and irreversible. Their repentance helped to fill in the painful spot (like my rare and wonderful mustard-colored marker), but the memory of those harsh words has been hard to completely erase.

The Apostle Paul delivered these wise words to the ancient Ephesians, “Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may minister grace unto the hearers….Let all bitterness, and wrath, and anger, and clamour, and evil speaking, be put away from you, with all malice. And be ye kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, even as God for Christ’s sake hath forgiven you.” (Ephesians 4:29-32)

It’s so easy to speak before we think. But most of us don’t use intentionally hurtful words, we just get lazy and careless. We let our words fly like little drops of bleach here and there without measuring the effect they may have upon the hearer. The problem is, little children (and big adults) believe what we say to them. “Something’s wrong with you,” or “You just don’t get it,” or “If you could just see yourself.”

I once called my daughter a “turtle” because she often moves like cold tar. One month later, while in a piano lesson, her teacher asked her to play more quickly. She replied, “I can’t. I’m a turtle.” My careless words had stained her self-perception. If only I could take those damaging words back…

Each day we have the opportunity to mend hearts and empower lives with our words. When we use them to build and inspire – people grow. We we degrade and criticize – people shrink. Our simple words of encouragement and praise can be life-changing.

As a matter of fact, they are.

Getting that animal was all Sarah could talk about. My starry-eyed five-year-old absolutely knew it would be the very best Christmas ever!

The busy festivities of the season rapidly sped by and before Santa was totally prepared for Christmas Eve, it was time to pick up the little mouse for his early-morning deliveries the next day. The pet store closed at 4:00 pm, and he barely squeezed through the doors before quitting time.

Upon asking for the mouse-on-hold, the pet store owner began to sweat. “It’s been a very crazy day,” he explained. “And things got a little bit disorganized.”

“Disorganized?” Santa questioned.

“Yes,” he continued. “Well, uhhh. You see, in all of the confusion, we sold every single mouse, hamster, and guinea pig in the store! But we do have some rats left.”

“RATS?” Santa replied in shock and amazement.

A sudden sinking feeling crept over Santa as he listened to the pet shop guy give a ten minute oration about how rats actually make much better pets than do mice, hamsters, or guinea pigs.

Thoughts of burning ham left in his oven at home began to blur Santa’s mind and he started to envision little Sarah waking up on Christmas morning, only to see a giant RAT staring back at her through the slits of the clean white cage she had chosen in November!

With no other pet store options from which to choose, Santa reluctantly boxed up two baby “female” rats — a white one with a pink nose, and a light brown one with a grayish nose. (Two-for-the-price-of-one was the very best deal Santa could strike at such a late hour.)

On Christmas morning, Sarah rushed to see the cute little cuddly mouse she had longed for, planned for, and prepared for over the course of several weeks. I held my breath as she peered carefully into the cage.

“Two wats?” she muttered, not yet “R” proficient. She stared at those rats so intently, realizing they were not at all what she had envisioned seeing there that magical morning. I saw her bite her little lip and put a smile on her determined, sweet face.

“Wow! I got TWO wats everybody! Come and see…”

Now, I’m not very pleased about my laid-back planning approach to Christmas that season, nor of the trust I placed in the pet shop owner’s guarantee of raising two female rodents (these rats had several babies – more than once) but I am sort of amazed (and especially pleased) that Sarah was able to just roll with her reality being much less exciting than her expectation had been.

As ambitious, starry-eyed grown women, we might occasionally feel like we’re staring into the cages of our own lives, only to see something MUCH DIFFERENT than we ever planned, hoped, or prepared to see waiting there for us. But like my Sarah, we each have a choice to make when we see the rats staring back. Do we throw a spoiled tantrum? Do we claim we’ve been robbed? After all, didn’t we make our life-expectations ultimately clear to our Father in Heaven through prayer?!

What Sarah had learned so well in Kindergarten that year is also great advice for us when our reality doesn’t precisely measure up to our expectations. And that’s simply, “You get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit.” After all, Heavenly Father may not be giving us exactly what we want because He knows exactly what we need.

At least, for now.

She listened empathetically and comforted me the way she always did, but I soon realized that my need to feel Christ’s arms around me, and that my intense longing to be physically close to my Father in Heaven, wouldn’t completely leave while I was here on earth. In fact, I still have very similar feelings during various times in my life.

I don’t know why I was so surprised when my eternally sunny five-year-old daughter told me matter-of-factly not long ago, “Mom, I’m really homesick for heaven today.” I hadn’t heard those words uttered since my own childhood and they certainly spoke to my soul. I guess we are kindred spirits, Elizabeth and I.

No doubt, we all experience a longing for our heavenly home – inwardly sensing that we’re strangers here – being so far away from our true and most natural setting with God. It’s not hard to imagine how heartbreaking it must have been for our first parents when they were cut off from His presence and sent into this lone and dreary world to fend for themselves.

Today, like Adam and Eve, we’re each doing our best to “fend” and to remain faithful during our mortal sojourn. And even though we’re physically separated from our Eternal Father and His Son, we are gratefully each given a heavenly lifeline through prayer — as well as the Holy Spirit to comfort and guide us while we’re away.

So, when life seems unbearably lonely and you feel like a stranger at the address printed on your bills – remember you’re probably just a little bit “homesick for heaven.” If you endure this earthly mission well, you’ll be there soon enough.

I’m sure they’ll leave the light on until you get there…