A Bit of Rambling from a Sleepless Mom

"We are doing all we can, Father in Heaven, to reach to heaven," Elder Holland said during the dedicatory prayer. "We ask Thee with great affection, loyalty and love that Thou would bring heaven down to us. We ask that Thou would receive us here, as we stand tip-toe to enter Thy presence, feel Thy Spirit and build Thy kingdom."

Spoken to the Saints in Rwanda, Elder Holland's comments were stirring. Ever since I read them in the Sept. 5th edition of the Church News, I have thought about his trip and the language he used. And now, after hearing his conference message on the Book of Mormon, and having recently studied and taught his April message, I believe this apostle was given the "gift of tongues." But rather than praise this St. George boy, I feel a need to praise his maker; Heavenly Father's love and awareness are more apparent because of this man's ability to speak to a variety of people, in their own love language.

After a long afternoon of piano, karate, dinner, grocery shopping, homework pleadings, and neighbor-children-keeping, I came across this obituary in the Deseret News (lest you think I sat down to read it, (or had any such leisurely moment), I was picking the paper up off the stove where my oldest had discarded it after devouring that day's Sports Section). I feel a kind of silly- almost moral--obligation to read the obituaries as often as I can,--to be mindful of families who are struggling. I'm always a bit more uncomfortable when I come across a person whose birth year is anywhere near my parents'.

James Richard McGhie Pearce

James Richard McGhie Pearce 1940 ~ 2009 James Richard McGhie Pearce died peacefully at home after meeting the challenges of ALS with optimism and faith.He was born May 2, 1940 to Richard Obra and Mary Isabella McGhie Pearce in Salt Lake City. During elementary school and part of junior high, he attended Stewart School on the U of U campus, graduating from East High School and the University of Utah, where he was affiliated with Sigma Chi fraternity. He married Virginia Hinckley September 10, 1965 in the Salt Lake Temple. They enjoyed, cared for, and loved each other immensely. Virginia and their family are grateful for thousands and thousands of priceless memories with Jim. (see more at http://www.legacy.com/obituaries/deseretnews/obituary)


As I skimmed through the article, I realized that this was President Hinckley's Son-In-Law. Brother Pearce is married to Virgina, the same Virginia who I watched give talks, and listened to on tape. I have also read many of Virginia's books and talks. She somehow speaks my language. And thank goodness. I have learned more about becoming more because I have read what she has written.

And so, on this cold, windy Autumn morning, I sit to gather my oldest children into the family room and around the fireplace. We will begin another day with sleepy scripture study --grateful for our warm home, indebted to the Believers who have sought their God, and written down His answers.

Our State Fair....

was a [pretty] great State Fair!

We had a super time at the fair in late September. We'd rented the old musical from the library and watched it and sang along, all the way to SLC. I don't remember ever having been to a state fair before --is that possible? Last year we celebrated Little Louisa's birthday at the County Fair, but this was a first (unless I am missing something from my childhood memories (which is entirely possible).

Max and Sam were enchanted by the livestock,

Checking out the pigs


Of all the livestock --we liked this brand the best.
Millie loved the rides,
Zach and Abbie enjoyed the food, and I was pleased as punch just to have an evening all together and look at the displays (Star kept his promise to have his phone turned off).


Can you see Mill's delight?


Why would one willingly submit to such a ride? Does that look fun?

It looks like Sam was pretty impressed with the displays as well.

Some Catch-up (not Ketsup)

My blue-eyed boys (don't adjust your glasses --this one's just blurry for some reason)
On the first Saturday in September, my third born, Samuel Wells Hall was baptized by his Daddy.

Prideful? Perhaps a bit
Sam was ready and waiting for this big day. He was pleased with the program, (it featured a musical number by Abbie, Eliza and Madeleine; a talk given by Zach; and stories from Mom and Uncle Jed; Aunt Anita played the piano, and we all sang) he was peaceful about his decision. And when my Sam is at peace -- I am at peace. Grandma Hall was in town for Aunt Susie's birthday, and our faithful Aunt Lynda and Uncle Chuck attended (how could we hold a true Wells gathering without them?)

Some loyal supporters

Susie happily enjoying the luncheon afterward
We missed our Chicago and Vegas cousins, and especially our missionary grandparents, but they sent special notes, and loving well wishes. What a support group we have!

Receiving his scripture surprise (his eyes are closed in this one)

"Just what I wanted!"

More Bad News for Sinners

This morning in scripture study I discovered yet another reason to keep my "ducks in a row" as it were. If I don't, I might become like those in the last days mentioned in 2 Timothy 3: 2-4.

Not only would I run the risk of being "covetous, unholy, proud, disobedient to parents (I thought Star had just thrown that one in there for the sleepy children, but it's really there) unthankful, and fierce, but INCONTINENT as well.

Now that's bad news.
I've not wanted to deal with incontinence --ever.

Guess I'll try and shape up.

The Little Optimists

Every March, right around my birthday, tiny yellow flowers push their way clear of the frozen ground at the Grandview house. Dad called them "the little optimists." I always liked that.

Thurs. morning Sam was suddenly quite sick. He had a fever and a severe headache. I kept him home with me until Millie's afternoon Kindergarten when the children's Motrin was doing its job well, and he wanted to join his friends for their daily soccer game. He didn't come out when I arrived to pickup everyone from their school day. The secretary ran over to the car and told me Sam had fallen asleep in the office. I found him curled up in a little ball, sweatshirt over his head. He was confused and feverish when I carried him out to the car.

Friday morning a friend who works at the school called and suggested I take him in to be seen. I almost didn't. After all, he was still eating some, wasn't sneezing or coughing, but just ache-y and miserable. I called and was able to get him right in. When I described the symptoms and my embarrassment at bringing him in, she said, "I'm glad you did, I'd put money in this being the Swine Flu." He was fairly good about the nasal swabs, and then we counted the change in my purse while we waited for the results.

It came back positive. She faxed a Rx for Tami-Flu to the only pharmacy willing to compound the meds into a syrup. They worked quickly to fill the order and reminded me to get this in him as soon as possible. We had caught the virus in the first 24-48 hours. By taking the Tami-Flu we could shorten the length and severity of his bout with it.

I marveled that all those many minor miracles had occurred that put this in motion. I was almost exhilarated as I snuggled him into my red chair, piled him with blankets and kissed his blonde head. I knew what to do, what to watch for, and felt I was being watched over.

I knew it was possible for others in this busy household to catch it, but I felt optimistic.
I felt like those little yellow flowers --ready to face the sun despite the challenge.


PS We are on day four. The fever is completely gone, as well as the headache, and fatigue.

He is back to his imaginative and active self. We of course were confined to home during church. Sam created a time machine and some brotherly mischief.

Sam is inside his Kirkland time machine. "Hey --let me in too."

"Oh yeah? Take that!"

Max's clever Mom finds a cool container for him too.
He's not falling for it. This is his disgusted look.

"Quit taking pictures of me Mom. I'm getting ready to pout..."

"Yep --here I go...doesn't matter how comfy a spot I've got. When a guy needs to mope, he's gotta do it now."