Remembering Septemeber 28, 1995

I still remember it almost as vividly as I remember yesterday, in some ways it's even more vivid. It was a pretty average September day for me in 1995. I was running late for 7^th grade as my parents helped me put the finishing touches on a Social Studies project. I felt awful that I had procrastinated (yet again) and missed the bus, forcing my mother to drive me all the way out to school – a good twenty minutes or more out in the rural countryside and the opposite direction from her work.

As the first class change came that day I was showing my project to a friend and walking slowly, far behind everyone else and bound to be late for our next class when another girl we knew came racing around the corner of the building. I can still remember her strawberry-blonde curls flying out behind her and the panic stricken look on her face as she raced past us screaming that someone had been shot. At first I thought it was some sort of bad joke, convinced that things like that only happened in the movies, not in real life and certainly not in towns as small and close-knit as I thought ours was. Her words were confirmed moments after in the look of terror on our school secretary’s face as she screamed for everyone to get inside the classrooms.

We waited, locked in the classrooms for what seemed like an eternity. The only thing we knew for sure was that there was a gun and someone had been shooting. The teachers tried desperately to keep things as “normal” as possible. For the students that were in the right place that meant a few poorly timed jokes followed by some busy work. My two friends that were with me tried to work on homework. I wasn't so lucky and there was nothing for me to do aside from wait so I began to write and pour out my heart on paper writing a poem that still to me captures the tumult of emotions I was experiencing. 

After what seemed like hours the official announcement came that there had been a shooting. Nothing more was said then but everyone was gathered to the cafeteria and in the days before everyone had a cell phone the few that were found were eagerly passed around as we all tried to contact our parents and arrange to be picked up.

By the time we left the outside world knew more about the situation than we did. As it turns out, a 14-year-old boy brought a gun to school and fatally shot another student who had only been 13. I had been within 30 or 40 feet from the end of the building where I would have been a first-hand witness. At first the investigators said it might have been a personal grudge or even a racist attack. There was some strong suggestions of gang-activity. In the end it seems like it was just a tragic case of a youth who was mad at the world finally reaching a breaking point. 

As the students and staff of the school tried to pick up the pieces amidst the grief counselors, television reporters, and instructional sessions from police I thanked my Heavenly Father for the blessings that He had given to me through all of it. As I look back now I am even more grateful for the things I was able to learn even in the middle of all the turmoil.

The first thing I learned is that we can never show too much love or kindness to someone else. As I sat waiting to know what happened my first thoughts were for my classmates and friends. I didn’t know if I’d see them again. Were my last words to them words of kindness and love or had I been mean and rude? Would I ever get the chance to let them know what they meant to me?

I learned that we never know who is hurting inside and needs our help. I rode on the same bus pretty much every day as the boy who brought the gun to school. As often as I had seen him I had no idea that he was capable of such violence. Others that were closer to him knew a little more of his aggressive nature and struggles with drugs and the like but from a distance I only saw an average 14-year-old boy.

I learned how much we all need to understand the plan of salvation. I went to a lot of the grief counseling sessions with my friends. Many of them were much more traumatized by what had happened than I was. They had questions and desperately needed the answers that the gospel provides. I still remember getting a tear-filled phone call from one of my friends one evening. We drove out to her house and my mother sat with her and tried to explain what happened to our spirits and our bodies after we died. I don’t think I had realized before then just how fortunate I was to have grown up knowing that we can live again with Heavenly Father.

Today as I read an article from the newspaper back home that marked 20 years I also learned that as adults we can make a difference. Shortly after the shooting the schools began a program for school resource officers. The idea was that they would work with the students and form a relationship with them so that they would feel more comfortable going to someone if there was a need for help. I never realized that the officer that came to our school day after day and befriended everyone with the perfect blend of authority and approachable humor and kindness was one of the officers that had arrived on scene to help apprehend the shooter and then been the lead investigator in the case. He decided that he would do whatever he could to help prevent this from happening again and made a very real difference in the lives of many of the students there.

Perhaps the greatest lesson for me in all of it was simply that God knew me and He loved me. I was just a little 12 year old girl but on that day there were so many things that happened to protect me and show me that He was in control. A few of them might be able to be explained away by some people as lucky coincidences. Others simply can’t be explained unless you believe in His all loving power.

Each of us faces trials and challenges every day. In the months that followed there were four more untimely and tragic deaths from our school. Since then we’ve seen Columbine, 9/11, Virginia Tech, and Sandy Hill. We’ve also seen local police and military officers attacked, innocents suffer, and devastations from war and natural disasters around the world. Then there are the thousands of personal struggles that we each experience in our own individual lives. Many of them, like this, have the power to change us forever. Heavenly Father has told us though that all our trials will work together for our good if we can trust in Him. I know that this is true. I may have lost a lot of my childhood innocence that day and had to struggle for a time with feelings of fear and uncertainty but I learned so much more. 

Looking back I can say with absolute certainty that because of my own trials and experiences I know that God will bless us even when things look darkest if we can have faith in Him and keep looking for the good.

Being Mindful of the Moment

In trying to think about what I wanted to say today I knew I wanted to talk about motherhood. Should I tell you a little more about my kids? How thankful I am to have them in my life? How I still feel every day like I worry that I’m going to mess them up? My guess is that if you’re a parent you already know those feelings pretty well. If you’re not a parent yet well, you’ve got a lot to look forward to someday.

No, as I start today I’m thinking about the daily rat race of life as a parent. If you’re a parent it is so easy to get caught up in the daily tasks of life: everyone wakes up, everyone gets ready for the day, everyone goes to work and school, everyone comes home, everyone gets ready for bed, and hopefully everyone gets to sleep. If you’re lucky everyone’s managed some semblance of three fairly balanced meals.

Is that what parenting is supposed to be like? Is that how our families are supposed to experience life? I’m horrible about getting caught up in the rat race. My “to do” list is insanely long and impossible. I never seem to get to half of it. I’m always worrying about jamming everything in. Thankfully kids aren’t like that. Over time they learn to grudgingly conform but their natural tendencies are to take life minute by minute and if you let them, they’ll teach you a lot about what’s really important.

Getting to know Monkey at 11 has been so much fun. She’s really starting to get into the deeper stuff of life and she’s handling it so much better than I did at her age. She’s always studying people and coming up with plans for how she can help others. She’s a lot like me in wanting to really understand why people are the way they are and why we make the choices we make and respond the way we do to different things. She makes me remember to look at the big picture and look for ways to show more love.

Tiger at 8 has been amazing. He has grown so much this past year. He loves to dream big and appreciate the small. One minute he’s talking about his dream of becoming an astronaut and finding a new Earth and the next he’s making friends with a caterpillar. He just loves to be happy and to make others happy and is always thinking of the most interesting things to be thankful for – like trees that clean the air and the stars so night isn’t so dark. He makes me remember that anything is possible if you can only stop and enjoy the moment and notice all the little gifts and joys around you.

Bear at 2 ½ is a blessing and a joy. He just loves his family and he’s usually happy doing anything as long as it’s with someone he loves. Of course he has his favorites like trains (we’ve been building A LOT of trains lately to help him pass the time with the other kids at school). He’s also happy to help me do the laundry or dishes. He always greets his family and friends with a big smile, a hug, kisses, and often a few silly faces. He makes me remember that happiness comes from love, not from the toy store.

If we are willing to listen children can teach us so much about the really important things of life. They teach us that dreams and joy and love aren’t found in the rat race – they’re found in the moment. Only as we pause and are mindful of the moment can we really feel and understand the greater things of life. When we take the time to just love and enjoy being with our children they will inevitably find a way to turn it back to us in even greater amounts.

Becoming Domestic - My Journey as a Novice Domestic Engineer

“So what do you do?” 

“I’m just a Stay-At-Home-Mom. I spend all day taking care of the kids and house.”

“Oh, you mean you’re a domestic engineer!”

This brief part of a conversation with someone was a major boost for me. I didn’t particularly like the idea of identifying myself as a SAHM. I felt like there was so much more to it than that. I’ve seen my share of viral posts trying to define and support all of the different roles that women who choose to put off outside employment are involved in and only a small part of it is just staying at home.

I struggled often with my feelings of in-adequacy in my roles as wife, mother, and especially as homemaker. I knew I had so much room for improvement and it didn’t help that when people asked me what I could do I could either say I was a SAHM and feel like I was conjuring images of a couch potato mooch who sat around all day watching television and ordering in pizza while complaining about everything or try and list out all the different things that I did every day and feel like I was trying to prove myself and my worth.

Looking at myself as a domestic engineer helped me rethink my role. If I began to look at myself as an engineer of all our family’s domestic needs I could see that I had a skill set that was needed and could be improved upon even if I wasn’t already a master. The burned French toast and make-a-mix casseroles were only my first steps. If I had a problem with cleaning or organizing it wasn’t the end of the world, it was an opportunity for learning.

So I’m a domestic engineer. Every day my job is to look after the things that make our home comfortable and happy and take care of my family. It's an important job with lots of room for improvement and growth and joy. I may still feel like a novice somedays but that’s ok. I can’t think of anything that I would rather be.