Because we're all in this together. Everyday.

Hello all, it's C.J. Schneider here.  Today I'd like to introduce you all to my dear friend Virginia Oviatt.  Virginia is a woman of many talents.  She competes in triathlons, she cooks, she manages twin babies, she sews flowers onto headbands, she fights lions with her bare hands...you get the picture.  She blogs at: https://missconginnyality.wordpress.com/. 

Because We're All in This Together.  Everyday. - by Virginia Oviatt

The parable of the Good Samaritan gets me every time.  I see myself so clearly- not in the the man left for dead (although somedays I may look it), not in the thieves who robbed and beat him (at least I try to not be that person). I am not even in the Priest or the Levite who avoid and ignore the hurt man. No, I am a character untold in the story but I am in there just the same. I am the Martha, busy with to her own children, so tired she cannot see straight, fighting  to get the laundry done, struggling to make sure there is fruit in the house, rushing to an appointment or lesson 10 minutes late. I am the one in the story who doesn't cross to the other side of the road. I, taking care of my own little brood, arms over flowing with babies, listening to the constant chatter of my little girl, trying to watch the never ending slap stick of my 8 year old, wanting to but never quite finding enough ways to  support and cheer on my hubs, I cross in the same place as the man. Failing to see him with my cognizant eyes, I take my daughter's hand to help her step over him and we trudge forward on our journey.

Last week I attempted my first large solo grocery trip with my 5 month old twins in tow. With one strapped to my back and the other snuggled in on my front, I had 2 hands free to load and push a very full cart. As I made my way through the store, the responses I got from other shoppers ranged from smiles, the woman cheering me on, whispering she can tell I'm doing an amazing job. There were countless strangers repeating the same tired phrase- "you've sure got your hands full" and the one man who went out of his way to ask "what would you do if you had 3?!?!"  But I was doing well with just my two. As I got to check out and just as I began to doubt, wondering how I would lift all my groceries out of the cart, bag and lift them back in again with my sweet babies clearly acting as obstructions, the customer service women left their station. Without asking what I needed said "we see you've got your hands full, let us unload and pack your groceries for you."
Later they helped me out to the van while I bounced and shooshed my little boys. In a store not generally noted for its customer service, They saw me and they knew what they could do.
From the drivers seat of my vehicle I called out how proud I was of the three of us. We did it! But without the help of these thoughtful women, I'm not sure I would have felt the same. They made the difference from it being a trip we just squeaked through to an experience of success I can look back to in those moments when motherhood successes seem far and out of reach.

I have a dear friend who recently threw her back out; On a Wednesday.
Wednesday night she bought the groceries we would need to make freezer meals.
Thursday morning she stood in my kitchen with her sore back chopping onions and filling bags. That afternoon she took my older two kids sledding.
Friday she came to visit and stopping in later to return something, noticed I was on my way out the door. I was late, trying to furiously get babies into snow suits so we could pick up my little girl from kindergarten. Her offer to stay to help meant that I didn't need to pack babies with me and could enjoy some 1:1 time with my sweet Lady.
Friday night with my husband away, she picked up the same daughter from a dance class and watched her until for me so I'd  have less running around with my two monkeys.
Monday, back still hurting, she came to pick up my older kids for an hour of physical activity after school.

Like me, This sweet friend has laundry, the need for fruit in her house. She has her own kids and her own projects. Though her back was hurting so she could hardly stand straight, she didn't cross on the other side of the road. She saw me and she knew exactly what She could do to help. 4 days out of 6 she checked in with me, included me in her day, served me, let me know she saw me and was there.

At our Relief Society March 17 party, the question was posed "who is an example to you of One who possesses Christlike attributes?"  I thought of my friend. I like to think I'm a person who enjoys giving service. I generally try to be kind and if I'm told what needs to be done, I'm your girl. But she has shown me what Brene Brown meant when she said "compassion is not a virtue- it's a commitment. It's not something we have or don't have. It's something we practice."
She has shown me what it means to practice constant watchcare. To be a Shepard, not just to the lost and lonely but to one of the 99 who just needs a boost, a little extra help to make sure she doesn't get too tired, too overwhelmed, too crazy. Like the ladies at Superstore, she allowed me to feel like more than just getting by, to feel I am handling my life with a little grace.

And so I'm committing to practice. To have my eyes open. To see and to do. Because the real challenge of the Good Samaritan is not in serving those you despise in the rare occasion you find them with a flat tire. It's in seeking and seeing opportunities to chip in, to lighten the load of others. It's in making kindness a part of everything; what we do; who we are; everyday.
Because we're all in this together. Everyday.

- Virginia Oviatt

Some words of encouragement for anyone who has a tough decision ahead of them today.

By C.J. Schneider

 

 

To my dear friend,
 

It has become apparent to me, as I'm sure it has to you, that you are at a crossroads in your life.  A very exciting, scary, important crossroad at that.  Sometimes, it is nice when you approach that fork in the road, to simply sit down for a moment or two and perhaps enjoy a little picnic of cucumber sandwiches and raspberry lemonade as you understandably wish to simply enjoy those last minutes before you must inevitably embark on one path or another.   Sadly, the time for tea time snacking and carefree picnic merriment has passed and when I think of you I envision you, picnic basket in hand, facing the roads ahead with the bittersweet taste of the lemonade still on your lips.  This is, of course a time for prayer and temples but it is also a time for music and poetry - because artists have the loveliest way of taking the plainest of virtues and transforming them into startling beauties.    So I offer you some wise words from a Scottish mountaineer/writer and a song in hopes that it may stir a desire to take those difficult first few steps forward.
 

“Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth that ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way. Whatever you can do, or dream you can do, begin it. Boldness has genius, power, and magic in it. Begin it now.”   -William Hutchison Murray (18 March 1913 – 19 March 1996) 

 

May the magic of boldness, honesty, bravery and courage wreak whatever havoc it may in your life because whatever the choice made after your valiant battle - the outcome of all that heroism will be a thousand times more beautiful than whatever will come from never daring to decide. 

Small is the New Big.

by C.J. Schneider

The other day my friend and I were at our local pool hanging out in the hot tub.  We were not hanging out there because we had just swum a million laps and were trying to relax our exercised muscles.  No, we went there to hang out because last week I slipped on some ice and threw my back out and that was the only place I could imagine sitting while catching up with my friend.

My friend's back is perfectly fine but the fact that she went from having two kids to four with the happy arrival of twin boys means that she is constantly tired as she slogs through living in a foggy haze of life, experiencing a lot of it in angry survival mode.

As we sat in the warm frothy water, my friend brought up the fact that her life wasn't everything she thought it would be.  When we're young we look at adult destination points and dream of how wonderful life will be when we get there.  I think what we don't look at so closely is the paths that get us there.  We don't see that the journey to those incredible places are fraught with disappointment, pain, monotony and more.  When I was young and I pictured myself having children I certainly didn't think about how my bathroom would constantly look like a vagrant moved in with the waft of urine always lurking somewhere.  I didn't think about how my back would suffer from hunching over so many years while I spent hours picking up kids, toys and looking down at my small children.   I certainly had no idea how much cleaning would be involved....I hate how much cleaning is involved.

What is so striking to me is that for every moment you have where you get to feel a euphoric "I made it!"  there lies before and after that moment a million other moments that feel nothing like euphoria.  They mostly feel like work.

So this is what I want to say about those million other small moments that do not bask in any extraordinary glory, the ones that smell of urine, sound like whining and can many times feel so very painful - those small moments are not that small at all.

Women have a regal heritage of understanding the power and potential in seemingly small things.  For thousands of years women have looked at the smallest of babies and have seen greatness.  Women cheer at the first little step, the first little words - not because the step or the word itself are amazing but because they are the glorious humble beginnings of a lifetime of steps and a lifetime of words.  Neil Armstrong would not have stepped onto the moon if it hadn't been for his first tiny step and Maya Angelou's gift of words to the world all began in a little word spoken by a precious little mouth.

This, somehow, is so easy to forget.  It is so easy to look at your small days, doing seemingly small things and see yourself as small as well.  I write this mostly as a desperate reminder to myself, to see the small things in my life with the greatness that small things can hold because in the end, life is nothing more than a stream of a million small moments.

So now I'm going to stop writing and go taste my son's attempt at a smoothie because my little three year old is clasping her small hands and in a small voice is saying excitedly "come mommy, come taste!"  And I will enjoy this small moment.


(My friend wrote her feelings about this idea here:)
https://missconginnyality.wordpress.com/2015/03/03/enjoy-things-for-what-they-are-instead-of-what-you-thought-they-should-be-mandy-hale/

Mormon Women: What You Won't Read in the New York Times

By CJ Schneider - http://authorcjschneider.wordpress.com/

               There’s a lot to read online right now about the plight of Mormon women.   I am sincerely saddened by the disciplinary action taken against both Kate Kelly and John Dehlin.  I also sympathize over the angst, stress and pressure I’m sure church leaders are feeling as they are trying to do their best in maintaining the purity and integrity of the church while striving to be as loving and kind as they know Christ expects them to be.   Not easy ground to walk for both sides.    I am not interested in debating or defending anyone or anything at this time.  However, amidst all that is being said about the challenges of being a woman in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints I really want to share with my friends and family, that my personal experience of growing from girl to young woman to mother in this church has been an extremely positive one.  I don’t believe church leaders are perfect but I do know that there is a divine magic in this religion.  I have been to church meetings in Taiwan, Ghana, Croatia, Russia, England, Scotland and Amsterdam and have felt the same feeling – that God is dancing with Mormons all over the world.    The music plays for both the men and the women.

             This is what I want to write about – (what you may not be reading in the New York Times) - how empowering and strengthening being a Mormon woman can be.    Every Mormon woman is also a member of what is called “The Relief Society”.   The Relief Society is a philanthropic and educational women’s organization and an official auxiliary of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints . It was founded in 1842 in Nauvoo, Illinois, USA and has approximately 6 million members in over 170 countries and territories. The Relief Society is often referred to by the church and others as one of the oldest and largest women’s organizations in the world.    Our mandate is to reach out to those in need and to offer service to the physical, emotional and spiritual needs of the other women of our churches, neighbourhoods and communities.   Having this focus has enriched my life in ways I can’t even begin to describe.  As I have stretched to reach out to women around me I have been supported and strengthened in return.   Last night, I went to Second Cup to meet with three other women of my church.    We met up because that’s what Mormon women do.   Every member of The Relief Society is assigned a companion and then given a list of women in the church who they are responsible for.    Every month we are asked to check in with the ladies on our list, find out how they are doing, offer to lend a hand if they are in need of help or an ear if they need someone to talk to.  We are called ‘visiting teachers’ because we are asked to not just connect socially but spiritually as well.
          When I was in Taiwan the English speaking church I attended was full of wealthy Americans:  I recall a CEO, international lawyer, pilot and a diplomat – it was also well attended by Filipino women who had left their country and sometimes their children to work abroad so they could send money home to their families.  The women visit taught each other and took care of each other.  It is an  extraordinary setting for people of diverse socioeconomic backgrounds to come together and to offer each other varied perspectives and experiences.  
            Relief Society presidents are full of stories of connection and community as they are involved in overseeing relief efforts:  women sending meals to the sick, sewing blankets for a new baby to be wrapped in, offering babysitting when a mother needs some help.  We Mormon women are a part of an extraordinary grass roots support network – something every woman and every mother really shouldn't have to do without.  We create it ourselves, its ours and its beautiful when we as women invite God to orchestrate our efforts.   

           Amoung us last night was a grandmother who is also an office manager, a young aspiring accountant, and two stay at home moms.   Diverse as we were, and despite the fact that we didn’t know each other very well, we came together because that’s what we were assigned to do.  We talked for an hour and a half, sharing stories of personal tragedy and sorrow and discussing how we met those difficulties with faith and prayer.  Each one of us had a story of how God showed up in our lives and let us know how worthwhile and loved we are.  Each one of us spoke confidently of how important we knew our lives were and expressed gratitude at  having the opportunity to navigate the tough waters of life with the winds of divinity guiding our sails.
           Being a Mormon woman means believing that our worth is inherent and not based on our physical appearances, economic or social status.  Being a Mormon woman means we acknowledge the divine worth of those around us as well.  Being a Mormon woman means that our husbands must sit through three hours of moral training every week as they hear over and over about how to be more loving husbands and fathers  and how they won’t be gambling, drinking, smoking or even looking at other women.  Being a Mormon woman means our husbands are told that WE are their top priority and that it is their responsibility to take care of their families just as we believe it is our responsibility to take care of them as well.  Being a Mormon woman means watching men in suits with baby toys attached to their belts as they entertain babies in the halls when they are not in classes learning to become more Christlike, more loving, more forgiving and more patient – even on beautiful Sunday mornings when I’m sure they would be much happier golfing, fishing or resting.

This is the stuff you may not be reading about right now,  but make no mistake, despite some seeming structural inequalities, Mormon women are very privileged in many ways.   I’m hoping that if any Mormon women happen upon this post that they will use the comments section to post experiences when they felt emboldened and empowered as a Mormon woman (please no Kate Kelly or Ordain Women bashing).

I love Elizabeth Gilbert - by Charla J Schneider

Lately writing has been a bit of a tortured experience for me.  I'm like the heroine in Tangled who vacillates between bliss and despair over her adventure.   I love, love, love this TED talk.  It actually makes me tear up whenever I watch it.  Gilbert talks about her own tortured experience with writing and manages to offer hope to anyone who is daring to create. It's twenty minutes you won't regret, I promise.  Enjoy!

I'm On Active Duty

I slept and dreamt that life was Joy
I woke and saw that life was Duty
I acted, and behold, Duty was Joy

- Rabindranath Tagore

During my undergrad I chose quite a few political science classes that dealt with international development. I was fascinated with underdevelopment – why some countries were so poor while others were so wealthy. I really loved learning about this and loved meeting other students who were equally concerned with international social and economic issues. I remember one guy named Mitchell who wanted to farm onions in India when he finished his degree because he was disgusted with our greedy, indulgent North American capitalist system. His parents once returned from a vacation in Mexico and when they went to show him their pictures he mocked “That isn’t Mexico! You guys didn’t go to MEXICO, you went to some American resort that doesn’t even come close to representing what real life in Mexico is…..” He was passionate.
I too wanted to make a difference and my interest in humanitarian work grew….but then my view kind of shifted. At the end of my degree, after all I had read and heard my conclusion was this: The world doesn’t need big heroes as much as it needs needs good citizens, good mothers, good fathers, good aunts and uncles, good grandparents. People who live decent lives and serve their families, neighbours and communities. I’m not saying humanitarian work isn’t important, I just really think there would be so much less of it to do if every one offered their humble contribution of love and duty. I gave up my dream of being a Mother Theresa for being a Mom and I genuinely feel that my offering is just as noble.