What the Sunflower Lacks in Elegance

Sometime ago I was given one of my most treasured gifts.  It was simple.  It was elegant.  What it lacked in worldly value, it more than made up for in spiritual and emotional wealth, and was poetry to my ears.  It was, in fact a poem, written by my daughter Miranda, who has a way of seeing beyond the obvious and in the lovely way of a poet, imbues the common with sublimity; adding layers of meaning to what may be dismissed as ordinary. 

In her poem, my four children become the hallmarks of a garden, each represented by a distinctive flower that graces my life with unique attributes.  All so different from one another, yet all blessing my life with beauty and grace.

I have been thinking a lot about my Sunflower lately, the fourth addition to my garden of beauties, and have felt to pay tribute to her with my latest creation of glass fusion.  It is easy to see her golden hair.  It is easy to see her big brown eyes.  But most importantly,  "What a sunflower lacks in elegance is made up in the soul, 

For only when they give all things is when they're really whole."

She has chosen to sacrifice her time and all her talents to her Savior, Jesus Christ, serving Him as a full-time missionary. Putting aside the distractions of a busy, silly, crass and crude world, she walks with God, looking for opportunities to serve His children, to teach them the Gospel of Christ and bring them into the fold of the Good Shepherd.

A sunflower keeps its face toward the sun, knowing that is from where it draws its strength.  My prayers are with Miranda every day as she has chosen to be in the world, yet not of the world, keeping her face directed toward the Source of all Light.

My Mother’s Garden

Written by M.L. Haws

For my mother.

Four little beds filled to the brim

Each bright in blazing color

Planted in their youth by a loving hand

In the Garden of My Mother

One is lush with Poppies

In a drowsy and dreamy red

Smooth to the touch, daring the eye

And stubborn in the head

The Poppy will stand vibrant

And have its way, still

But will honor those who need their rest

And serve them with a will

Next, the Birds of Paradise

That stand up straight and proud

Showing off their sprays of light

With wise heads humbly bowed

The Proficient Paradise gives promise

Of strength, beauty and charm

Standing tall in stormy weather

And finds home where it is warm

Third in line, the Orchid

Glowing in elegance

But beneath those pearly petals

Beats a heart of amethysts

The Orchid is all loveliness

With an inner glow of fun

Light and grace, vibrant joy

In its soul unite as one.

Last of all a humble patch

The Sunflowers nod away

In Morning face toward the sun

And contemplate the day

What the Sunflower lacks in elegance

Is made up in the soul

For only when they give all things

Is when they’re really whole

Four little boxes tenderly kept

By their gardener expertly

This gardener who loved them

Though they all grew differently

Four little boxes surround a tree

Growth from a seed of faith

That bears the fruit and creates the light

In which they daily bathe

And from my Mother’s tree of Life

That stands unfailingly

New vines still grow and intertwine

And blossom verdantly

In my Mother’s Garden

There still is much to grow

But come and see, the Faith and Family

Are quite enough to show.

The Miracle of It All

Some days are life changers.  Today is one of those days. I am waiting this morning for a fellow to come and put a For Sale sign in front of our home.  As we have anticipated this big change, I have felt very anxious, but as the day is finally here, I am surprised that the anxiety has subsided to a large degree.  I feel remarkably at peace as I note the closing of a chapter.

That's ALL it is!  What an epiphany.  It truly is merely the closing of a chapter in a book filled with joy and wonder.  And the expectation for the next chapter is joyful and purposeful--no excuses, no regrets, no hesitation.  It is, in fact, a great blessing that we have the opportunity to build a new home.  And it's going to be a wonderful home--built with the objective of being a gathering place to draw together our growing family.  Our children and grandchildren will comfortably be able to come home as often as they desire.  My job will be to make certain they desire that OFTEN.

I can do this!  I feel the Lord's blessings everyday as I press forward with this project.  And He is filling me with His Peace at a time that I had worried so much about.

It's ALL Good.  It really is.  Why am I such a worrier?  Has life never managed to turn out for my good in some way?  It does.  It always manages to teach me something and have my peace restored eventually.  I do not understand all the mysteries of God, but I KNOW that He loves me!  Of this I am certain.  He manifests His love in so many ways.  And today, He has filled me with peace.

And THAT is a miracle.

Die With Memories, Not Dreams

I was startled by this quote the other day:  "Die with memories, not dreams."It caused, as great quotes do, some introspection. I asked myself, what memories do I have tucked away as the treasure of my life?  And which are in danger of existing merely as dreams, never to be fully realized and converted into memories?

I dream of a place to gather my growing family. I thought the BeachHouse was to be that place. After some experimentation I have come to believe that that was shortsighted. Once every seven weeks is not reliable nor flexible enough. We need a place that is available 365 days a year; 24/7; for better or for worse; in sickness and in health.  Not to mention in quickly encroaching old age.

We need our home to be that place.

Much conventional wisdom would lead the empty nester to believe that down sizing is the  answer.  For many it may be.  For one who dreams of a gathering place, that would seem to be shortsighted too.  Why would I move to a home which is devoid of memories, and is also insufficiently sized to create new ones? My present home has been the growing up place for my children, as well as the growing up place for my own immaturity and weakness and foolishness.  My children have come out on the other side of their childhoods with confidence, assurance, and courage to face lives as adults, and hopefully many happy memories of time spent together as a family in our beloved home of the past seventeen years.

I believe that I too have come away from my time spent here with experience, with lessons learned, with faith in a still-bright future, with hope for many more years of family gatherings and one-on-one time with grandchildren and hobbies to be pursued and wisdom to be harvested and things to be beautified.

So it's time for movin' on my friend.......

No. Really.

It is actually time for moving on.  We have worked very hard to polish and shine our beloved old homestead, which will soon bear one of those dreaded "For Sale"signs. Family pictures have been removed. Our characters have been erased with neutral walls and neutral floors and neutral decor. It is very lovely. But the rooms, for the most part, don't feel the same anymore. And that is intentional. Staging a home for sale is purposefully about inviting the lookers to be able to imagine it with their own things and their own families, not being distracted by our distinct stamp of ownership.

Our memories have been carefully tucked away, but not to remain in boxes forever. Plans are already in the works to build that gathering place of which we dream. It will include minimal stairs, because let's face it, this will be our last home and we're not getting younger.  How about a glass studio with sufficient power outlets to fire up a kiln?  Undeniably.

We are taking with us the important things of a home, things which will never be as prosaic as rooms and painted walls and gardens. We are taking the people that we love, and we are taking our treasured memories of the sweetest childhoods that ever were.

And any other dreams acquired along the way? Certain to be resolutely converted into long lasting memories.

On Belay

When I was a kid I learned how to climb.

My natural instinct seemed to be to climb any tree that passed my simple analysis as a tree-climbing tree.  It was liberating to me. When the trees were mastered, I would find ways to climb onto the roof of my home.  I loved the challenge and especially the enhanced view of my little world.

But the best things to climb were mountains and my dad was an expert.

What began with simple climbs of large boulders and learning how to look for holds, soon graduated to larger challenges with ropes and pitons. I still pride myself on knowing what a caribiner was long before they became ubiquitous.

As any climber knows, the cherry on the top of a good climb is the chance to rapel down, a sort of harnessed backwards dancing which eventually brings the climber to the safety of the ground.

The key element to successful rappelling is the skill of the belayer.

A belayer is the climber's partner, who typically applies the friction at the other end of the rope whenever the climber is not moving, removing the friction whenever the climber needs more rope in order to be able to continue climbing or descending as the case may be. A belayer is the safety net between success and failure. I could not fall because my dad was literally my anchor.

I was always very secure in knowing that my dad was my belayer.  He was the strongest man in the world and I knew that in his hands I was safe.  No doubts. Ever. He was a mountain himself.

My belay has become unsteady.

My rock is crumbling. My security is jeopardized.

My father is ready to pass on.



I'm not ready to be off belay.

Standing As A Sentinel

It would seem a rather lonesome job. A sentinel often stands alone, always at the ready; to watch, to guard, to raise a voice of warning. 

A few years ago I had the amazing opportunity to visit a part of the world in which my husband and I witnessed a startling juxtapose.  It wasn't where one would expect to find knights in shining armor standing as sentinels atop fortress walls, but there amid the beauty of the Aegean Sea where it flows into the Mediterranean, we found this anomaly.  We found Rhodes, one of the splendid islands of Greece.

Perhaps many already know of  its unique history, an amalgamation of mythology and legend, but I didn't. I was startled to see that along with the expected sandy beaches, jagged cliffs, lush mountaintops, and ancient ruins of Greece, we found the astonishing preservation of medieval fortresses, a lingering tribute to the Knights of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem that came during the time of the Crusades to protect against Turkish invaders.

I have been reminded recently that among the many roles and responsibilities of parents, there falls a supreme accountability as sentinels for the family, as guardians upon the watch tower to be ever vigilant and faithful in protecting and giving a warning voice when necessary against the challenges and dangers of the world.

When those once-protected children leave home to make lives for themselves, does that role as watchmen upon the tower diminish and fade away?  Often that is how it would seem.  I recently read a reminder that put things into perspective for me:

"...at times the sentinel misses the essence of his existence.  To man the outpost, it is not.  Maybe rather it is to pen the revelations found in the solitude of introspective adventure."

This old knight sometimes gets a little rusty and weathered from being left out to stand alone in the rain, but perhaps my job is not to merely "man my post", obediently, quietly, solitarily.  As I watch ever-cautiously, maybe I can use my enhanced perspective gained from extra years of living to be the watchman on the tower, and those long hours standing alone need not be wasted.  I can be a much more effective sentinel if I use this time to study and learn and grow and fine-tune myself.  Then I can be better prepared to teach and counsel and advise and warn of dangers ahead.

And I am certainly not alone.  I am aided by others who are brave enough to share their insights and discoveries.  Let us unite together and look out for one another.  I will not desert my post, and I will try to learn something while I am here.  And if I happen to gain any enlightenment, I will pass it along.

Well Pleased

Thankfully, we are never too old to learn.  I received an important lesson this past weekend.  It doesn't change what I do, but it has made a major change in the way I think, and hopefully in how I express my feelings.

As a delightful Mothers Day gift, my husband took me to Idaho to be with all of our children.  It was the only thing I had wanted.  It was a weekend filled with love and laughter and warm fuzzies and opportunities to see my grown children in action as outstanding young people.

We were able to hear one daughter speak in church, giving an eloquent address on the motivating force behind service, that being love as taught by the Savior.  Brilliant.

We were able to gather for a family dinner prepared by my innovative daughters who found a place big enough for all of us, who served wonderful homemade food, and who made it as lovely as it could be.

We were able to also attend church with my son and his family, witnessing his great contributions in leadership and music. 

This was when I received my significant learning moment.  Following the meeting we were able to visit for a few moments with my son's bishop and I expressed to him how proud I am of my son, a rather trite and hollow-sounding, yet sincere sentiment. This good man took a moment to teach me a more significant expression.

Being proud of our children is good, but more importantly, it is good to "be pleased" with them.

I was taken aback.

Surely he was absolutely right. 

Being pleased with our children bespeaks something even greater than pride.  I can be proud of what they do; proud of their achievements; but on a higher level is this idea of being pleased with who they are, being pleased with their choices, being pleased with the development of their character and their integrity.

So today I pay tribute to my children and express to them how pleased I am in who they have become.  I may be proud of how hard they work at becoming educated and independent.  But of more significance, they are outstanding, thoughtful, virtuous young people in whom I am very pleased.

And to add a bit of wisdom from Emerson, I hope my children will always remember:

"I wish the man to please himself, then he will please me."

Dream Until Your Dream Comes True

I knew it would be great.  I suspected it would be very fun.  I imagined what it would be like with my entire family dressed in costume, reuniting with Miranda, wandering the streets of the Magic Kingdom with trick-or-treat bags at Mickey's Not So Scary Halloween Party.

Oh. My. Stars.

It was outrageous.  It may have been one of the craziest, funnest, most memorable nights of my life.

The fun had begun with the planning.  As the mother, it once was my responsibility to plan everyone's costume for Halloween.  Now that my children are all adults, I am merely a facilitator, helping them pull together their own ideas.  I trusted that they would each have a great concept.  They did.  Some let me in on their plans; some chose to make an entrance with surprise on their side.

Some attracted a lot of attention. 

Some had little boys coming up and wanting to feel their muscles.

Some had little girls coming up thinking she was a real princess.  (Really? C'mon, really? It must have been too dark for them to see the wrinkles...)

My only regret was that my energy drained out long before the party was over.  Grumpy and I had to resign ourselves to a bench in front of the castle, watching as all the merrymaking went on around us.

It was extravagant.  It was an extra expense, requiring extra planning and packing to bring costumes in our suitcases.  Was it worth it?

Every penny.

Dream on, dream on, dream on.  Dream until your dreams come true.....

Turning Hearts

I love the scripture that speaks of the prophet Elijah turning the heart of the fathers to the children, and the heart of the children to their fathers.  I get it.  I feel it.  I believe it.  Family connections should be foremost in our lives and should be our greatest source of happiness and strength.

Mine are.  I am overwhelmed with the gratitude I feel toward my family.  My parents have given me a legacy of love and faith, and I am trying to pass that along to the next generations.  It's my job.  And I take it seriously.

My energies are spent in bringing this bunch together as often as I can.  We have a lot of fun and look forward to our little circle expanding exponentially.

Thanks for the joy.

A Summer of Cupcakes

They're everywhere, aren't they?  There are bakeries that specialize only in cupcakes.  There are TV shows devoted just to cupcakes.  For some reason, cupcakes have become the little darlings of the treat world.

I'm a fan.  To me, few things are as irresistable as a perfectly baked, perfectly iced little single serving cake.
I have been perfectly willing to get on the bandwagon and join the trend, and my family seems to have been willing as well.

While my granddaughter was staying with us, one afternoon was devoted to cupcake baking.  I'm not sure if my motivation was the delicious results, or the photo opportunities.  Either way, they were both very sweet.

What's the perfect thing to do while you're waiting?  Dance Party, of course!

Last week, while all of the family was at the beach, Jackie suggested we have a Cupcake War.  No throwing was involved; just seeking for bragging rights for having baked the best cupcake! 

I was overwhelmed with the creativity, the effort, the teamwork, and the mess!  But mostly I loved the beautiful, yummy results.  Thanks to all for the memorable birthday treats!

We had cupcakes that resembled cups of cocoa, and Titleist golf balls.

We had cupcakes that explored a variety of flavor profiles.

And we had some whose mastery and expertise simply couldn't be denied.  I am hereby declaring Jackie's delectable peanut butter and chocolate masterpiece as the winner.  Sorry, guys.  You know her's were the best!

It's No Trouble

There is an old movie that has become a classic for many.  It features action, romance, humor, tenderness, and just plain old good storytelling.  The lines are clever, memorable, and most importantly, quotable! Many people know whole sections by heart and are quick to recite them if prompted.

One of my favorite parts is the poignant running theme of love expressed by the simple words:  "As you wish".  This lovely phrase becomes synonymous with the often overused words, "I love you". 

This past week I have discovered another phrase that carries just as much affection, just as much devotion, and just as much love as either of these.  It is the humble, unpretentious "It's no trouble".

Frequently when these words are spoken, it is indeed "some" trouble, some inconvenience, some interference with normal circumstance.  But it is the desire to downplay that inconvenience that makes the subtle statement of love. 

May we turn you out of your bed for the night, and make you sleep on an air mattress? 

"It's no trouble."

May we inconvenience you to get up at 4:00 in the morning to drive us to the airport?

"It's no trouble."

May I rest my old bones while you chase a 2-year-old around the house in order to wear her out for bedtime?

"It's no trouble."

These are only a few examples of the way my family serves me.  And it doesn't stop at family.  I have valued friends that are quick to offer help and kindness and comfort when I am in need.  And it is extended with immeasurable love and those simple words that mask the bother or inopportune timing.

It's no trouble.  As you wish.

I love you.

Our Own Sweet Caroline

One of my favorite things about my mother has always been her name.  It is old-fashioned, yet chic at the same time; a classy name that sets her apart from the crowd. Unique and yet familiar.

Her life began in a tiny town in southeastern Idaho, a tomboy that grew up on a horse, who then began leading cheers for the Bancroft Cowboys and reigning as Rodeo Queen.  That small town girl has since become a world traveler, collecting friends and silver spoons, and leaving a trail of friendship wherever she goes. 

She caught the eye of a football star from Soda Springs, and two beautiful people began their life together.

Four daughters and one son rounded out their family, and Caroline devoted her energy and enthusiasm to providing fun and adventure and security and love.  Her efforts in making a happy home were rewarded with children that are devoted to their lovely mother.

Not afraid to tackle any challenge that came along, she maintained the status as the mother that could do anything.  She still holds that honor.

I feel so blessed to call you Mother.  You have taught me about life and love and motherhood.  You have taught me about service and kindness and excellence.

Thank you.  With all my heart.

Happy Mothers Day.