Living Joyfully

For those that are closest to me, it is no secret that I have been undergoing a transformation of sorts since my heart surgery nearly three years ago; a rebirth of my spirit, so to speak. I have paddled hard as the dark waters have tried to confound me and I have struggled to gasp for air as I have fought, sometimes seemingly in vain, to keep my head above water. There has been a light slowly finding its way through the darkness, and now after sinking, drowning, battling to stay afloat, it seems the light has not only pierced through, but has filled my every soul. It has shined it's way into the broken and fragile being I was and brought love and healing into every crevice of my heart, mending it beyond the medical repairs; allowing it to illuminate something nearly tangible as I begin to embrace the new me.

One aspect of me finding my way to the new me has been that I have not been pursuing my music as much as I used to. I went from writing Christian songs up to four times a week, to writing maybe twice a year. I stopped performing, nearly completely stopped creating, and ultimately, stopped walking a path I knew I was supposed to travel since the age of seven. This has not all been bad, wrong, or neglectful. It has simply been what I needed.

As I have stepped away from music for these past few years, I have embraced motherhood to its fullest, and am learning how to put my own needs first. Note: I did not say wants, but rather needs. It is much like the oxygen mask theory I am sure most of you have heard of by now. Still, it is important to have reminders now and again. When an airplane is going through severe turbulence, or is (heaven forbid) on it's way to something more severe, an oxygen mask drops from the ceiling. In the pre-flight information, the attendants explain that if you are traveling with a child, to place your own mask on before assisting your beloved child. This is so that you will have the tools you need to care for your child. Placing your needs first allows you to have the energy and strength to care for those entrusted to you. This is what I have needed to do, striven to do (albeit not always successfully) and continue to do. Yet, there was something still missing.

In order to find that something, that part of me that was either lost, forgotten, or perhaps not yet discovered or unveiled, I gradually left social media. First blogging, then Facebok and Twitter. Some people might think that this could mean the death of a reputation or business you have built. If that's the case, so be it. For me, it became about taking that last step in recreating who I am. In the past two months, I have: cleaned out my house, purged a great deal of “stuff” (which I was sad about then over time realized how freeing this has been), said goodbye to the dearest of friends, parents, my in-laws, and grandmother-in-law (some of whom I may ever again see in this life), buried a soul sister, stayed up all night talking, hugged my brother after he was imprisoned for 10 years, learned to change the oil in my car, moved 2000 miles across the country, fed bison, had nothing to do (aka: been bored), petted donkeys, visited a hidden Civil War Cemetery, been to the Smoky Mountains, walked to a waterfall, missed playing my piano, stayed off social media, made new friends, lived in a tent, developed an infected and excruciating heat rash, healed my body naturally, moved another few hundred miles, and moved into a new home where we currently have camping chairs for furniture, are eating from our camping dishes, have no dressers, no tv, no internet, are preparing to homeschool another year... and are thriving. I have discovered that what I was missing was already a part of me. I am happy. I am light. I am joyous. I am at peace.

One of the best parts of this journey was today, when I sat down at a piano, and just played. I played songs already written, and created new pieces just for me and God. I talked to Him through my playing and was reminded of a scripture once shared with me.  

"For the Lord God giveth light unto the understanding; for he speaketh unto men according to their language, unto their understanding."

Today, I truly communed with God through our common language: that of music. These past (nearly) three years I have felt more and more withdrawn from God, but did not know why. Now I do. I pushed Him away, Him and the incredible gift He gave me. By not aligning my will with His, I was fighting Him. This music is part of me, and when it is gone, I am no longer myself. Without my gifts, and more importantly without God, I cannot be the incredible Daughter He desires for me to be. It is what bonds us, joins us as Father and Daughter, Love and Light. Without the music – the gifts - He has blessed me with, I am nothing. Without Him I am nothing. So today, because I have opened the door and let them both back into my life full-heartedly, I am me once again.

How incredibly grateful I am to be eternally linked with a husband who supports me and never gives up on me; with children who are truly good souls and cheer each other on; with friends (old and new) who remind me how much God loves me; with an incredible Father in Heaven who has never doubted me, but sent His Son so that I could find myself again.

Thriving Joyfully,
Mama Dragon

Tears of Frustration, Tears of Peace

Today, I wanted to cry. In fact, I did cry! In our Primary Congregation, we have nearly 200 kids. They are divided up into to groups: Junior and Senior Primary. Like the other choristers around the world, I had this beautiful plan in place to read a quote by my uncle, Elder L. Tom Perry, about singing a song from the top of our lungs. I finished up our regular song practice with our younger kids and pulled out pictures of a man many recognized, Elder Perry. Regardless of how I tried, the talking would not stop. There were kids climbing over kids, kids playing with their neighbor, kids practicing dance moves.... none of us adults could get them to calm down! Over 50 kids ages 3-6 and they were.... exhausting!! I was working hard to make the moment special, to tell them from a personal point of view how it felt to know this man on a personal level, and nothing worked. Teachers were practically sitting on their students to get them to settle down. We had done everything up to this point, including wiggle songs, whispering, talking loudly, having them stand to sing... 

NOTHING. WORKED. Trying to get through my assigned time, I hastily finished my lesson, telling the next teacher (a member of our bishopric, or a clergyman), "Good luck,"collected my teaching items, then returned to my seat. Things did not go much better for him, as all of the children (who usually are very well behaved) decided that today was the day they would be, well.... kids! (What are they thinking?!) >wink<

While the room was switching to the older kids (ages 7-11), I stood at the piano, my back turned to everyone, and closed my eyes. As I fought tears of frustration, I offered up a prayer that went something like this: Oh Uncle Tom, I am so sorry! This was supposed to be a special tribute for you, and it turned into a hot mess. I have let you down. I am so very sorry. 

As soon as I thought those words, I felt his response of laughing. Laughing! Of all the nerve, why would he laugh at me when I was trying so hard to do something for him?! I felt a whisper from heaven tell me: Young Lady, >laugh< they are kids! Enjoy them! 

Well! I'll tell you what I did! I.... sighed. He was right. They were little kids and probably busting at the seams with the break of rainy weather and beautiful sun shining. I would be too! 

As I turned to welcome the older kids with a song, they immediately settled in their chairs, becoming reverent. All of us leaders were ever so grateful. one of them quickly commented that they were a breath of fresh air. When it was time to pay tribute, these children listened wholeheartedly as I shared stories of my relationship with someone incredibly special. I bore witness that as we sang, the Holy Ghost would let them know if the message of the song held eternal truths, as my uncle taught. It was beautiful and moving as they did indeed sing "from the top of their lungs with enthusiasm." How I rejoiced in that moment in knowing that he could hear us from heaven.

I did not video these students of mine, but other choristers around the world recorded their primaries. One local Portuguese Branch song leader sent me a video of his children singing in their native language. I was moved to tears as these children paid tribute to such a revered man. What a kind service! How grateful I am to be part of such an organization that teaches truths such as "Families can be together forever." How grateful I am for this message being my uncle's legacy. 

Singing with enthusiasm, 

Mama Dragon