Things are not always what they seem
April 2008

I know a mother. I didn't know her when she had any new babies because she moved in after her youngest was over a year old. She is a kind hearted and fun loving woman that is good at so very many things. In many ways, she was my ideal.

When I was pregnant with Curtis, she made many comments to me to this effect: "I am so glad it is me and not you!" To all of my pregnancy ills, hugeness, and impending labor and delivery, she was, to be perfectly honest, not very sympathetic to my plight. Without me even needing to mention it, she would proclaim all the horrible things she noticed about my condition and proclaim how very glad that it was me and not her.

After Curtis was born, she laughed at his spit-up, poopy diapers, and at the times I had to walk the halls at church instead of hearing my meetings.

One day at a midweek function, she asked if she could hold Curtis. As she was holding him, she said to me (I am paraphrasing): "Sometimes I wish I could have more, but then I have to remind myself of all the things that are not fun about it - then I'm okay again."

You see, with her last pregnancy, she almost died. She has been told her chances if she gets pregnant again are even worse. So she's done. All this time, the lack of sympathy and rather insensitive comments were covering up the emotions of desire for another that she could not have.

That was my moment of insight. Things are not always what they seem.

I know another mother who is one of the most unselfish people I know. To all appearances, she has it all together. She definitely finds time to serve others. But if you knew her personal heartache, you would wonder how in the world she fits it all in. And you may just appreciate your own trials and heartache.

Sam Payne is a Utah folk singer who also happens to be a member of the LDS church. He said this: "Boyd K. Packer used to describe life as a play of several acts. And though there's a lot to be said for the glories of the present scenes, it would behoove us to remember that this is the conflict act, not the resolution act. Hang on, baby."

So hang on, y'all. Through all your secret sorrows and heartsick moments, through all those things that weigh you down, remember, remember that this is not the end. Someday we will look back on all this and know that this is a small moment, even if it seems huge and insurmountable now.

And in the meantime, let's remember that all those around us are carrying their own burdens. My moment of insight reminded me that we are not fit to judge. Not anyone. Not ever.

May I always remember that.

Good vs. Evil
January 2008

I came to a realization the other day. You know the kind: when you "realize" something you've always known, but this time it hits you right in the mind and heart and finally means something more to you.

The city of Enoch grew into a city that was so big and so righteous that they could not be kept from the presence of God, while at the same time the world was ripening in iniquity so much that it would soon be ripe and ready for destruction by flood. The people who joined the city of Enoch and lived in righteousness chose their path. They lived in the world and decided to make their homes (and in their case, their city) a place that goodness would prevail, even if wickedness gathered all around.

Do you think they were mocked? You bet. Do you think their values were questioned on every hand? I'm guessing so. But still they persevered. They chose the right path because their faith was strong enough to overcome the voice of the world.

If they can do it, so can we.

We can make our homes safe havens from the influences that would bring us down. We can build our testimonies on strong foundations that will not break when the evil of the world starts to weigh us down.

We live in a world today that calls good evil and evil good. There are things I hear about that make me sick and/or sad more often than I like!

And yet...

I think of all the people that lift me up and strengthen me. How good friends and neighbors and family help my testimony (and the testimonies of my children!) grow. I think of the Saints meeting together every week and choosing to live their lives the way they know is right. I think of others living their lives the very best they know, without the light of the gospel, but still champions for the right the best they know how. And I know that I am not alone.

This is not a battle any of us will fight alone.

Just like in the prophet Enoch's day, the righteous need not be held back because of the things that surround them. Even in a ripening world, we can make for ourselves a Zion.

An Ode (of sorts) To Aaron
May 2006

Okay, so you see the title and automatically must assume that a little bit of cheese is on the way. But Aaron and I just celebrated our 6th anniversary, and it got me to thinking. Actually, the thinking started before that, but this feels like the perfect time to share.

A few months ago, I re-read my journals. It was a time of many emotions - laughter (the Kenna of old and the Kenna of new have the same sense of humor), regret (those mistakes again), sadness (there were hard times!), and joy (there were great times too) among others. And finally, there was contentment, because after it all, I have grown and learned... and I have so many good memories.

I am not a person who will say "If I had to do it over again, I wouldn't change anything." Because I would! I would be perfect if I could be! And yet, I can still be content. Because things have turned out so well.

Like Aaron, for example. (Yes, we are back to this subject.) I always knew it, but reading my journals solidified it for me: Aaron is the only one for me. Those who knew me pre-Aaron would agree... I was the Queen of running shoes. I thought so many guys ruined it by trying to be more than friends. If I ever did start something, I questioned it so much until it would break. And I (and some of my friends) began to wonder if there would ever be anyone for me unless I made a big change.

But Aaron was different from the start. I moved so easily from acquaintances to friends to dating to engaged to marriage and beyond. No running shoes needed.

And that is why Aaron deserves an Ode. He is the only one for me, no questions asked.

Reflection on Faults and Forgiveness
November 2005

I am going to confess something here (sisters, this may come as a surprise to you, ha, ha): I am not perfect. Like all of us, I would love to be perfect. I try hard, but I am human, and I fail. Often. More than I like to admit. And so, in this season of thanksgiving, I want to give thanks to those who see the best of me and the worst of me and still think that I am wonderful - no ifs, ands, or buts. I am so blessed to have a family who accentuates my strengths and forgives my weaknesses - no matter how many times they surface.

We all make mistakes. Certainly, there are times that we need to forgive. And just as certainly, there are times when we need forgiveness.

To me, the phrase "become as a little child" is a phrase of constant reflection as I spend my days with my sweet children. And here is my latest observations: forgiveness from a little child is immediate and complete. Secondly, they so easily love others and expect others to love them too. They know they are loveable! How much better would our relationships be if we could
1. truly forgive, ourselves and others,
2. let ourselves love, and be loved, even if we've had our feelings hurt,and
3. trust others to love us for who we are, faults and all, and extend that same unconditional love for others.

May I strive to be that kind of person.

I am so grateful for my children, who teach me daily. I am grateful for a husband, who truly is my support when I need to be reminded that I am good, despite my faults. How blessed I am.

Faith and Family
May 2005

There's nothing like a funeral to make you reflect.

My Aunt Myrna recently passed away, and I was able to attend her funeral. My heart was so full of emotions!!! I thought of my Grandma Joan Hilton, who died last year. I miss her! I love her!! I thought of my Grandma Eva Petersen, who died when I was three years old. I want to get to know her!

I have been reviewing my family history this past month, especially my Danish line, and I have imagined meeting Evarena Fredena, Ane Birgithe, and all the rest. And then as I reflected at Myrna's funeral, I thought to myself that she had quite the welcoming party. That must make it a bit easier for all those who miss her so much.

I thought of birth and death, of life and eternity. It made me want to cherish every day. And to spend my time in ways that will count someday. And all of these thoughts and emotions, and the spirit that was there with all those people whose lives my Aunt Myrna touched during her own, combined to uplift and inspire me to do more.

And so, right now, in May of 2005, I rededicate myself to those things that really matter.