Words for sunday.

"In order to get through tough circumstances, focus on who God is — his unchanging nature. Regardless of circumstances and how you feel, hang on to God’s unchanging character. Your circumstances cannot change the character of God. God’s grace is still in full force; he is still for you, even when you don’t feel it. Remind yourself what you know to be eternally true about God: He is good, he loves you, he is with you, he knows what you’re going through, he cares, and he has a good plan for your life. Never doubt in the dark what God told you in the light." R Warren


Have an inspiring sunday. Xo!

{image: pinterest}

Sweet adoption story.

A Woman's Sacrifice

My mom sent me a cut-out copy of this essay printed in The Mormon Times a few weeks ago. Over the weekend, I pulled it out and read it, and in about two seconds, by the time Mr. Keller had time to turn around, I was sobbing. (Again.) You see, in the midst of this crazy ride, it was exactly what I needed to hear.

And I was thinking, maybe you need to hear it too.

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A Woman's Sacrifice by Kathryn Soper

 I shifted my weight on the pew and sighed as the sacrament meeting speaker stood to begin his talk.
Seven months pregnant, I was swollen and sore, big-bellied and exhausted from the constant demands of my five young children. I wasn't sure I could last the remaining 15 minutes of the meeting, let alone the final months of the pregnancy.

I nearly let out an audible groan when the speaker launched into his topic: pioneers. The last thing I wanted to hear was heroic tales of mothers who kept walking resolutely to Zion no matter what they had to leave behind. I could barely drag myself from my living room to my kitchen.

I closed my eyes and drifted into half-sleep as the speaker droned on, only to be jolted upright by my toddler's stray elbow jamming into my abdomen. The baby inside began to kick in response, pummeling my bladder and ribs as he somersaulted in his watery nest. I bit my lip trying not to cry or scream as waves of frustration broke over me.

It's horribly cliché to claim that at that very moment, the speaker said the very words I needed to hear, but that's exactly what happened. He was reading the story of the Sweetwater crossing, the day that grown men and women sat down and cried on the banks of the half-frozen river because their strength was utterly spent, the day that three young men carried dozens of people through the chunks of ice and onto the continuing path west that waited on the opposite bank.

And as those words penetrated the hazy fatigue that enveloped me, the Spirit spoke. Not with words, but with a deep impression that I roughly translate here: "Your sacrifice is like unto theirs."

I sensed within myself and how there were spirits waiting on that bank needing to cross to the other side. And how I was carrying them, one at a time, to the opposite bank, so that they could continue along the path to Zion.

Paul's words sprang to my mind, words that had burned into me years before at the start of my fourth pregnancy, when I was wondering how I would ever manage another baby.

"I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that ye present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God, which is your reasonable service" (Romans 12:1).

Present your body as a living sacrifice. Sacrifice — the word comes from the Latin "sancire," meaning to make sacred. That's exactly what I was doing: offering my very flesh and blood to God, to meet his purposes, to fulfill the desires for children he had planted within me.

All the pain and discomfort and difficulty, I suddenly understood, was having a sanctifying effect.

It sure doesn't seem that way, I thought as I shifted my ample weight on the pew and rearranged the various limbs of my children. I didn't feel sacred; I felt bloated, achy, irritable — even desperate, but even so, I knew it was true.

A year later, I had a miscarriage. My first. In the aftermath I grappled with many difficult feelings— grief, anger, longing. Sure, I had only been pregnant for a few weeks, but I had already invested great physical, emotional and spiritual energy in this new life and for what?

A few weeks later, I spoke with a close friend of mine who had just suffered her second miscarriage. I confided my sense of emptiness and futility. But as I continued to speak, I heard surprising words coming from my mouth.

"It wasn't a waste," I said. "It wasn't a waste."

I wasn't quite sure what I meant. But I knew that somehow, my loss counted. It was known by God and would, in some inexplicable way, contribute to his work and his glory, as well as my personal holiness.

I felt better after that, even though it still took more time to recover, both physically and emotionally. I became convinced that when women offer their bodies as vehicles for new life, they are consecrating themselves to God's purposes, and God honors this offering, whether or not it results in live birth.

I realized that this is true for women in a variety of circumstances: women who try and try, but are unable to conceive; women who face the rigors of adopting a child; women who remain single in this lifetime, who must forego maternity as well as intimacy on a number of levels.

I came to this conclusion. Every woman of faith consecrates her body as a living sacrifice. Whether our particular burden is fullness or emptiness, each of us is pushing against the world's current with our eyes on the kingdom of God.

Kathryn Lynard Soper is the author of the memoir "The Year My Son and I Were Born" and the editor-in-chief of "Segullah," a journal of literary and visual art by and for Mormon women.

Inspiration on womanhood.

{photo via here}

While we've all got motherhood (womanhood) on our minds, I decided I wanted to link up to an essay that really inspired me a few months back. The more I thought about it, I decided it was important enough for me to imbed into this post. It has really changed the way I feel about myself as a woman - daughter, wife and mother.

I hope you find it inspiring as well.

Xoxo!

Manifesto Female: What I Have Learned

By Courtney Kendrick of CJane Enjoy It

My older sister Page once said to me, "I don't know what it is, but giving birth to my daughters was an entirely different experience. It's almost as if they were made out of a different essence."

That is where I want to begin.

I am writing this essay with the essence I was birthed with, the spirit that fills my body, the soul that communes with divinity. This is the part of me where I am most comfortable, though I am not always good enough to be there. This isn't an official doctrine of my church, but it is influenced by what I have studied out in my mind and heart. It is me, essentially.

Every Sunday I stand with the young women in my church and repeat a bold statement called the Young Women Theme. It starts, I am a daughter of God, who loves me and I love him . . . (read the entire theme: here).


If I believe I am a daughter of God then I believe that every woman is a daughter of God.


Every woman who has, will and now exists has characteristics of heaven. This is not restricted to those baptized in my church, this is the genesis of all women. We came from a Heavenly Father who made our female spirits receptive to hearing inspiration and revelation from a Divine Source. These powers are written in the code of our biological make-up, as well as hidden in our spirit. We may know they are there, we may not. I believe they are there.

With these powers of innate wisdom and discernment--given from God, women are capable of anything. They can create. They can destroy. They can change. They can evolve. And because of this I believe in a woman's endless capabilities, that when paired with a God (also known as a sense of self) there is no end to what a woman can choose.


She can fight injustice. She can heal from injustice. She can help other women fight or heal from injustice. She can work. She can be satisfied in work. She can find confidence. She can capture truth and live it entirely. She can rise above. She can be aware. She can find intelligence placed inside of her that no force can destroy on this earth, no matter how hard it becomes. She can listen. She can hear. She can obey. She can develop her own rules, and obey those too. Woman is clever enough, resilient enough and strong enough to find paths that weren't always apparent.


She isn't less than, or more than, the next woman or man. She is her own entity which becomes cheapened when compared to others. When following the promptings inside of her soul to do whatever is important for her own life plan she simply has no equal.


But these powers are the most potent when used to love other women. To support. To carry. Lift. Encourage. Serve. Fight alongside. And in my experience, this is also the hardest part about being a woman. There are forces at work designed to turn woman against woman in an effort to completely destroy the massive amount of good we can do when united. But I also know that I feel the strongest as a woman, when I am helping another woman, or being helped by another woman--whether she is someone I know, or a someone who lives across the world. I'd be smart to unceasingly search for opportunities to serve. (Sometimes I regrettably forget this.)


I can't write for every woman, and every woman's unique circumstance. I am not aware of every tribal, local, religious, federal policy on women around the globe. I believe a woman's ultimate goal is happiness, but I can't begin to describe what that looks like for everyone. What I want to hear from other women, is what I will give in return: We can do it. Whatever it is. We can do it. We have done it before. We will do it again and again. We contain God-given endless abilities. We are here for each other. You teach me. I will teach you. God is with us. We can, I can, you can.


We can achieve our potential as wives, we can do it as mothers, we can do it with no title (or uterus) at all. If all we aim to do in this life is discover our eternal intelligence we'd still be fulfilled beyond human capacity. I will never feel sorry for a woman who seeks the best of what this life is offering, even if what she finds doesn't look like what I have found.


Our bodies are built to be strong in principal and natural femininity. Femininity looks different on every woman-- it is the essence that sets us apart from each other, and from man. Femininity isn't about dresses, make-up or shoes, it is about fulfilling our specific female identity. Only we know what that is, but it is encoded in our bodies. It looks good on us. And sadly, the sacredness of our bodies are the most exploited entity on this planet.


But we can change that too.


Women will seek out what feels inherently best to them--the simple life, the complicated life, the busy life, the communal life. I am learning to trust this as we all share the same birthright of being female. If women want labels, so be it. As for me, Daughter of God is all-encompassing. It is as practical as buying cleaning solvent from the door-to-door salesman, to leaving an unhealthy marriage. I know the women who came before me made sacrifices, fought battles and picked hard choices. I know they were led by the same inner voice I hear today, the voice of a loving God who champions his daughters, gives them hope in all things if they seek it, and looks after them even in the darkest of places. It is impossible to comprehend just how powerful he made us. Sometimes I get a glimpse, and it sends me reeling for days.


I've always like what Emma Lou Thayne said about writing as a Mormon woman, "The pillars of my faith are still intact, but the roof has blown blessedly off the structure to reveal a whole sky full of stars."


I am a happy woman and I owe it to my Father in Heaven.


This is my essence.

One of my heros.

If you haven't already seen this, I think you should.

Have a peaceful day!