The quaint village of Cesky Krumlov, in the Czech Republic behind us.Our 28th Anniversaire
There's a lot going on this weekend. Friday was our 28th anniversary and today is also Father's Day. I have a lot of thoughts racing in my head. Today, as usual, Kurt went to early morning Bishopric meetings and I drove myself to church. I arrived a little late and walked in as Kurt barely started conducting the meeting. As we sang the sacrament hymn, I was unexpectedly overcome with emotion as the words of the hymn began to take a life of their own as each word and meaning caught me like a soft embrace. I tried very hard not to let the tears flow.
My father suffered from severe mood swings that ranged from mania that involved all sorts of dangerous behaviour--from endless spending and gambling with staggering financial losses to violent outbursts and other unspeakable acts. At times he fancied himself as having the answer to all the ills of the world and became this charismatic leader, musical genius and organizational leader. At times he was just fancy-free and super fun. And then, infrequently, he would just be normal, loving and nurturing. This bipolar life resulted in memories half bitter and sad and the other, strangely secure and happy. There was a long time in my life when the bitter half engulfed and scorched my life in flames. Those were my lost, dark and dreary years filled with dangerous behaviour, flirtations with death both physical and spiritual-- a sort of draconian drama. As I learned to manage my own inherited bouts of manic-depression, age and experience became my best friends and I learned to choose the better half that happy memories can still purchase from my bitterness.
My constant Northern Star has been my best friend---my husband. I chose wisely. When my lows seemed insurmountable and my desperation rendered me paralyzed with self-doubt and a serious case of self-loathing, he was immovable. When I thought myself unworthy of being loved, he gave me reason to believe that there HAS to be something, though infinitessimal, in me that is worth loving. He gave me a bright and shiny world on a silver platter when I thought life betrayed me. And when my highs appeared, he let me soar and gave me assurance that when things inevitably fell and I am hit with the 'funks', he would be there to catch me and gave me permission to shut myself out from the world so I can regroup. He saved my life. And does so every day. Without getting exhausted. How he does it, I will never know. But I'd like to think that I have something that completes him as he completes me.
These two fathers shape my life in ways that refine and perfect me. And I cannot imagine life without them.
Gratitude cannot even describe how I feel today thinking about these things. Deeper still is the knowledge that I have that there is a God who loves me. Though many times I feel that my challenges seem insurmountable, intellectually I know that He has never given me anything but countless blessings and favours. My life is filled with emotional highs and lows that often paralyze me and when I do walk through these 'calvarys' I hold on to what I know are true. I see these events as opportunities to practice faith--holding on to something true, slippery and foggy as it may be. And practice makes perfect. Challenges and life's experiences are merely tremendous gifts and opportunities for refinement and perfection. Ergo, there is nothing that life can bring that does not require gratitude as remittance. All things that I receive from Him are good. If I can just remember to be grateful every day, I can find peace and therefore have the ability to keep on learning and growing---achieving more light and knowledge.
I thought I would record these thoughts today, on Father's Day. It's no coincidence that my wedding anniversary always falls close to this day. I hope that my children will learn to also forgive and choose to remember the better parts.
My father suffered from severe mood swings that ranged from mania that involved all sorts of dangerous behaviour--from endless spending and gambling with staggering financial losses to violent outbursts and other unspeakable acts. At times he fancied himself as having the answer to all the ills of the world and became this charismatic leader, musical genius and organizational leader. At times he was just fancy-free and super fun. And then, infrequently, he would just be normal, loving and nurturing. This bipolar life resulted in memories half bitter and sad and the other, strangely secure and happy. There was a long time in my life when the bitter half engulfed and scorched my life in flames. Those were my lost, dark and dreary years filled with dangerous behaviour, flirtations with death both physical and spiritual-- a sort of draconian drama. As I learned to manage my own inherited bouts of manic-depression, age and experience became my best friends and I learned to choose the better half that happy memories can still purchase from my bitterness.
My constant Northern Star has been my best friend---my husband. I chose wisely. When my lows seemed insurmountable and my desperation rendered me paralyzed with self-doubt and a serious case of self-loathing, he was immovable. When I thought myself unworthy of being loved, he gave me reason to believe that there HAS to be something, though infinitessimal, in me that is worth loving. He gave me a bright and shiny world on a silver platter when I thought life betrayed me. And when my highs appeared, he let me soar and gave me assurance that when things inevitably fell and I am hit with the 'funks', he would be there to catch me and gave me permission to shut myself out from the world so I can regroup. He saved my life. And does so every day. Without getting exhausted. How he does it, I will never know. But I'd like to think that I have something that completes him as he completes me.
These two fathers shape my life in ways that refine and perfect me. And I cannot imagine life without them.
Gratitude cannot even describe how I feel today thinking about these things. Deeper still is the knowledge that I have that there is a God who loves me. Though many times I feel that my challenges seem insurmountable, intellectually I know that He has never given me anything but countless blessings and favours. My life is filled with emotional highs and lows that often paralyze me and when I do walk through these 'calvarys' I hold on to what I know are true. I see these events as opportunities to practice faith--holding on to something true, slippery and foggy as it may be. And practice makes perfect. Challenges and life's experiences are merely tremendous gifts and opportunities for refinement and perfection. Ergo, there is nothing that life can bring that does not require gratitude as remittance. All things that I receive from Him are good. If I can just remember to be grateful every day, I can find peace and therefore have the ability to keep on learning and growing---achieving more light and knowledge.
I thought I would record these thoughts today, on Father's Day. It's no coincidence that my wedding anniversary always falls close to this day. I hope that my children will learn to also forgive and choose to remember the better parts.
