Shawna Edwards Music

THE "W" IN CHRISTMAS?

2011-12-08T13:25:00.000-08:00

Children at a Christmas Play / C. David Lynch

Great Christmas story from Bella. I know you'll like it.

The "W" in Christmas (author unknown)

Each December, I vowed to make Christmas a calm and peaceful experience. I had cut back on nonessential obligations --extensive card writing, endless baking, decorating, and even overspending. Yet still, I found myself exhausted, unable to appreciate the precious family moments, and of course, the true meaning of Christmas.

My son, Nicholas, was in kindergarten that year. It was an exciting season for a six-year-old. For weeks, he'd been memorizing songs for his school's "Winter Pageant." I didn't have the heart to tell him I'd be working the night of the production. Unwilling to miss his shining moment, I spoke with his teacher. Click to read more. She assured me there'd be a dress rehearsal the morning of the presentation. All parents unable to attend that evening were welcome to come then. Fortunately, Nicholas seemed happy with the compromise.

So, the morning of the dress rehearsal, I filed in ten minutes early, found a spot on the cafeteria floor and sat down. Around the room, I saw several other parents quietly scampering to their seats. As I waited, the students were led into the room. Each class, accompanied by their teacher, sat cross-legged on the floor. Then, each group, one by one, rose to perform their song. Because the public school system had stopped referring to the holiday as Christmas, I didn't expect anything other than fun, commercial entertainment - songs of reindeer, Santa Claus, snowflakes and good cheer. So, when my son's class rose to sing, "Christmas Love," I was slightly taken aback by its bold title. Nicholas was aglow, as were all of his classmates, adorned in fuzzy mittens, red sweaters, and bright snowcaps upon their heads. Those in the front row-center stage -- held up large letters, one by one, to spell out the title of the song. As the class would sing "C is for Christmas," a child would hold up the letter C. Then, "H is for Happy," and on and on, until each child holding up his portion had presented the complete message, "Christmas Love." The performance was going smoothly, until suddenly, we noticed her; a small, quiet girl in the front row holding the letter "M" upside down -- totally unaware her letter "M" appeared as a "W." The audience of 1st through 6th graders snickered at this little one's mistake. But she had no idea they were laughing at her, so she stood tall, proudly holding her "W."

Although many teachers tried to shush the children, the laughter continued until the last letter was raised, and we all saw it together. A hush came over the audience and eyes began to widen. In that instant, we understood the reason we were there, why we celebrated the holiday in the first place, why even in the chaos, there was a purpose for our festivities. For when the last letter was held high, the message read loud and clear:

"C H R I S T W A S L O V E"

Bella began her email to me by saying that she is now 77 years old, and that she still gets emotional when she hears the songs and hymns of Christmas. Thank you, Bella, and may your Christmas be filled with His love.

Shawna

Not Home for Christmas -- a Reader's Favorite Memory

2011-12-05T07:47:00.000-08:00

Harmony Farm House by Karen Masters

Here's a great story from one of my readers, Donnette, who wrote to me about the time their young family was moving from Alaska to Idaho at Christmastime.

We had a tough time of it and traveling was slow with 4 kids in a VW Rabbit pulling a trailer containing all of our earthly possessions. We had left Alaska with every intention of being home with our families for Christmas, but with unforseen circumstances, mostly flat tires on our trailer, that was not to be.

Donnette then tells of yet another flat tire -- and they weren't even halfway home. I can't imagine the frustration, especially with four young children in tow! Fortunately, the flat happened near a farm house, where they knocked on the door and asked if they could make a phone call. (Read more)
The owners of the farmhouse gave them much more than access to a telephone:

He assured us that the only tire store was closed for the Holiday but also that he was a friend of the owner of the store so while he and my husband met the very kind gentleman at his store the farmers wife entertained my children and I with stories while she was making cabbage rolls for her family's celebration the next day.

It wasn't long before our husband were back with the trailer in tow with two new tires on the trailer and one on the spare also. We were on our way again with a case of oranges for our babies and the Spirit of Christmas in our hearts!

I asked Donnette if I could share her sweet story, and she graciously emailed back and gave me a few more details:

My story took place 25 years ago and we were in Alberta, Canada not too far from Edmonton where we ended up spending almost a week. Our car gave up the ghost and we had to wait for my father in law to drive up in my parents' truck and camper to rescue us! It is one of the best memories of our lives!

What a heart-warming story, Donnette -- thanks for sharing.

Shawna

Making Christmas Simpler -- and Sweeter

2011-11-30T03:38:00.000-08:00

We don't do Christmases like we used to. But then, if you've followed my blog the last two years, you already know that. Because of the collective Christmas experiences we've had, I'm a little sensitive to the overblown, overspent, overcooked, over-the-top Christmas celebrations we fall into. And I use the term "fall into" deliberately, because it's a trap. In fact, it's sort of become one of my life themes, which led me to write the song, "Do You Have Room?"

So, to begin the Christmas season this year, I have a "Simplify Christmas Challenge" going on over on my website. Click here for more information. My first rule is: "Less is more when it comes to decor."

Just fyi: This challenge is not for the person who just wants to be more organized while they are yet doing more Christmas stuff. It's for the person who actually wants to get off the Christmas merry-g0-round.....you know -- that frantic, endless rush that sounds fun but just leaves you feeling sick inside? Yeah, you know.

Check it out here, along with other good ideas from my readers: Simplify Christmas 2011

Jaxson

2011-10-29T05:40:00.000-07:00

Pardon me for gushing, but this is my newest grandson. He’s one week old now, and he’s perfect.

I sat down this morning to try to write a post about him, but alas, I can’t find the words. How do you adequately describe a newborn baby? Like someone else long ago who was filled with emotion, “I cannot say the smallest part which I feel.”

So I’m just going to post this picture I took of him and let it go at that. Welcome to the family, Jaxson. You are loved.

SHE DID IT

2011-08-17T14:09:00.000-07:00

Rebecca likes celebrations. She likes them so much, in fact, that she wants them to last forever. For example, she somehow finds a way to celebrate her birthday for at least a week. So of course, we had to have more than one graduation celebration.

BECAUSE, after

1,454 days,

45 classes,

5 apartments,

9 roommates,

4 boyfriends,

3 different jobs,

2 student body offices,

1 internship,

a whole lot of work, sweat, time, emotion and sacrifice,

not to mention a small fortune,

REBECCA GRADUATED FROM BYU LAST FRIDAY!!!!!

So, we held a party -- a Becca party.

Gary, Nate and Scott were the balloon brain trust. The balloons had to be color-alternated, in increasing order of height. It took three of them to accomplish this feat. And the shoes? They're symbolic of her "walking" in her convocation. (Not to mention keeping the balloons tied down.)

We had "Becca's Bistro," with all her favorite food. Yep. Kraft Mac and Cheese, biscuits and gravy, pot stickers, hot chocolate and peach pie. Okay, so I know that sounds like a perfectly terrible combination. And it was. But hey, we threw in a salad for good measure. And the peach pie was to die for. Seriously.

The table -- complete with gerbera daisies. Her favorite.

The surprise. Becca loves surprises.

The food -- I know I've already talked about food, but we're all about the food.

And, oh yeah, there were people there, too.

This makes me laugh. What's with that look?

Then, two days later, we had another celebration. And guess what we did?! Yeah, you guessed it -- we went out to eat. Rebecca got to choose the place. So she has a choice of probably -- what -- 250 restaurants in Utah Valley? And she chose Sam Hawk. Korean food. REALLY? I'm pretty sure that was the LAST place in the world I would have chosen.

But you know what? I thought it was pretty good! Especially the beef kalbi.

Mmmmm, mmmmmmm!

Becca, I'm proud of you. Way to go, and now you can go have your beautiful baby boy and go off to Medical School with Landon and live happily ever after.

And if you're reading this and you happen to be in the Provo area any time soon,

give Sam Hawk a try. I think you'll like it.

BEST. DAY. EVER.

2011-08-16T15:19:00.001-07:00

So, I haven’t posted in a long time. But there are so many things to write about and I can’t possibly fit them all in one post. At least not in their entirety. So, these are just the highlights, including our best day ever:

May: Our beautiful friend, Jacqueline, got baptized, and 8 of us flew to Chicago to be there.

May: I built garden boxes and planted a garden. (Okay, I know this one pales in comparison to the other events, but I’m picking my first tomatoes now, and I’m pretty happy about it!)

June: Elder Edwards returned home from his mission. This is it. The best. day. ever.

July: John and I went to Girls Camp for a week. Loved it!

August: Rebecca graduated from BYU.

Whew! Can’t believe the summer is gone. But Gary and Jacqueline and Nate and Sarah and Landon and Rebecca have all gone home. And it’s pretty quiet around here. Just me and John and Scotty.

And speaking of Scotty, I have one last thing to write. He’s home. As days go, this day — when missionaries come home — is a mom’s. best. day. ever. This is when you get to see the boy you sent come home a man. Confident. Calm. Happy. Good.

This is when you see him be unusually grateful for the most ordinary things: Mom’s rice pudding. A clean bathroom. A clean bed. A sofa to sit on. Shoes without holes in them. A car. This is when you hear him tell you the most remarkable little miracles that happened, and the way he was blessed, and the things he learned, and the people he loved.

And you realize that whatever little sacrifice you or he made was nothing. Really, nothing. And you wish you could meet those people he taught and baptized, because you know they love him almost as much as you do.

Welcome home, Elder Edwards. It’s good to have you around again.

No Responses to “Best. Day. Ever.”

Nate and Sarah (and the wedding photographer)

2011-05-10T11:16:00.000-07:00

This is Nate and Sarah.

They were married in April. You can't really see their faces here, but take my word for it. They're darling.

When they were married a month ago, I doubled as the mother of the groom and the wedding photographer.

Why?

Because a few years ago, we paid a professional photographer a small fortune to take wedding pictures, and we have 12 whole pictures to show for it. That’s right — 12. (Twelve. In case you need it spelled out.) Sure, some of them are big. But so what? You can order a big picture from Costco now for $10. Okay, so I’m not a purist, because a “real” photographer would gasp at the word “Costco,” but my goodness — they’re good enough!

More about that whole fiasco later, including our wedding restage / retake session.….

So, I was the photographer for Nate and his darling bride, Sarah. And guess what it cost us? Absolutely nothing! And we had 100 pictures to show for it. That’s one hundred. Good ones. At least.

You can tell that it is totally making my day to be able to say this.

So, as part of the celebration of the marriage of Nate and Sarah AND my complete delight about pulling off their wedding photography, I’m posting some of their pictures. Enjoy.


Okay, now you see them.

Ah.......

Did I use the word "darling" already?

Vintage. A throwback to the 40's maybe?

Snapped this one at the very end -- and got the only blue sky of the day.

All I can say about this picture is "Nate must REALLY love Sarah." Because there is no way in the world I would have ever persuaded him to do this.

More about the wedding and my brief wedding photography career later.

Have a great day.

Shawna

Mom

2011-05-02T16:12:00.000-07:00

This is my mom. Actually, it's my mom with my son, Nate and his darling wife, Sarah. My mom, as you can see, is a tiny little thing. But she has a big heart and a generous nature, and she's still one of my best friends.

Even now, when I have grown children of my own, I call my mom, and I know she will answer. Because she's always there, just like she was when I was growing up. Moreover, she's always pleasant -- one of the only people I know whose mood isn't affected by anything external. Maybe that's why I love this picture so much. It shows her being there, and being happy about it.

Today, I had a conversation with my mom, and she said, "I can't really do great things any more." I thought of this quote I recently read -- the closing quote in the book Middlemarch, written by George Eliot, in the 1870's:

“Her full nature … spent itself in channels which had no great name on the earth. But the effect of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs” (George Eliot, Middlemarch [1986], 682).

Mom, do you remember just 3 weeks ago, when Sarah and Nate were married? You told Sarah she was the 81st person in your family. 81 people owe the biggest blessings of their lives to you and Dad. 81 people have watched you face life alone with both guts and grace. 81 people call you Mom or Grandma. 81 people love you.

You have contributed to the 'growing good of the world' unhistorically, continuously, and faithfully.

Those seem like great things to me.

Thank you, Mom. I love you.

Shawna

Temple Square

2011-04-10T22:01:00.000-07:00

It was half raining and half snowing when we went to Temple Square on Saturday. And it was cold and windy, and I kept wishing the clouds would clear and the sun would come out.

But I started taking pictures.....and I can always see things through the lens of my camera that I don't see through the lens of my eyes. For example, the reflecting pool didn't reflect, but the sidewalk did.

Here are my pictures of Temple Square from Saturday, April 10, 2011. It's a remarkably beautiful place, no matter what the weather.

The Star "Strangled" Banner

2011-02-07T18:58:00.000-08:00

I love the National Anthem. And every single time I hear or sing it, I feel a rush of emotion on the words, "....that our flag was still there." Sometimes I even shed a tear or two. And when it's over, I always cheer -- and not for the upcoming sporting event, but for the good old US of A.

I imagine Francis Scott Key, waiting through the night to see the sign from a ship out in the harbor -- the sign that would tell him whether or not the Americans had won the battle. And I imagine the flood of emotion he must have felt when he saw the stars and stripes raised over Fort McHenry at dawn. I hope he has somehow had many occasions to see and hear thousands of people rise up, place their hands over their hearts, face the flag and sing that song together.

I also hope yesterday wasn't one of those occasions. Because if he heard the performance of The Star Spangled Banner at the Super Bowl, he wouldn't have recognized it.

Now, to be fair, it's a very difficult song to sing. And 111 million people is a rather large audience, and might make you nervous. I understand that Christina came out with an apology today, and I think that was the classy thing to do. But I have a couple of questions.

A) Doesn't the NFL pretty much have the entire population of the world to choose from?

B) What in the world is wrong with singing it like it's written? It's a great song -- just like it is.

I didn't watch the game, and I didn't see any of the halftime show, but I can't imagine how bad IT must have been, after reading this in a Dallas paper: "The NFL should have let Christina Aguilera redeem herself by singing the National Anthem 10 times during halftime, instead of subjecting us to the Black Eyed Peas."

Wow.

I have an idea. To the NFL: Ditch the celebrities. Hold a national tryout for a chance to sing the National Anthem at SuperBowl 2012. "American Super Idol...." Choose somebody who can REALLY sing it, with the right words and the right melody. Now, THAT would be worth tuning in for.

Grateful

2011-01-10T15:09:00.000-08:00

I’m feeling grateful today for everyone who sang Do You Have Room? this year. Or played it on the piano. Or listened to it.

I’m especially grateful for everyone who wrote to me about it. As you know, I offered free single copies of the music, and a lot of people took me up on it. Although I couldn’t respond to every message, I read them all, and they made me happy.

Those letters are paychecks for me.

Here are a few of the most recent:

From Kristine:

Your beautiful, sacred, tender uplifting, song has touched our hearts; and brought tears to our eyes.

From LouAnn in Atlanta:

Thank you for your inspirational song. This has to be the number one Christmas message, through song, I’ve ever heard.

From Emy in the Phillipines:

Hi! I am from the Philippines. This song was played before the Mass on December 24. I am part of the choir in our parish and I would love the other members to experience the beauty and heart of this song. It is a gift you give to the world and an act of service to our Lord.

From Ryan, in Virginia:

What a talent you have – to have written such a beautiful song about the Savior. I heard this song for the first time last Sunday and it touched me (and every one in the congregation). God bless you and your family, and Merry Christmas!

From Cathy in Vancouver:

Thank-you for this beautiful song. As life’s trials intensified for me over the past couple of years, I have come to realize that my Sav ior is always there for me, especially when things seem the bleakest and the most lonely. All that is required of me is to invite him in. I have been struggling this Christmas with feelings of despair, but as I listened to your song, I felt such peace and joy in the Lord’s birth, life and atonement. Thank-you for sharing your talents and blessing the lives of strangers.

From Rocio in Mexico:

Thank you for this beautiful song and video it made a difference for me and my family, it helped to prepare our hearts for the true meaning of Christmas.
May God Bless you and thank you for using your gifts and talents for His Praise and Glory, and to bring people close to Him.

From Jonathan, in Pennsylvania:

I just wanted to report back to you that my daughter did a wonderful job with your song at our Christmas Eve service. Obviously it was the first time the folks who came heard it and it was received very well. We had a pastor from Pittsburgh visiting with us and as soon as the service was over he asked about the song. I am sure that it will become a favorite (it already has for me).

So maybe you can see why I had a smile on my face the whole Christmas season. If the song helped you enjoy the season a little more, or lifted your spirits for just a moment or two, I’m grateful. Thanks again for listening, and we’ll talk soon.

Shawna

Where's Mr. Monk when you need him? (And why is there a picture of Spam on my blog?)

2011-01-06T20:46:00.000-08:00

Can I just say, before I get to my real point, that I LOVE the show “Monk”? If you haven’t ever watched it, it’s about a lonely, over-the-top OCD, head-case of a detective who just happens to be brilliant, and, of course, solves every case. And even though he has to touch every light and make everything add up to 100 and wash his hands constantly, you just can’t help but love him. In fact, I sometimes say I want to adopt him — because then my house would always stay clean. AND he could help me solve my current little problem.

Which brings me to the real point of my post. My website has been attacked by SpamBots. Have you ever heard of them? I hadn't. Until today.

SpamBots are not, like the name sounds, Spam-flavored treats. I only wish they were that harmless! SpamBots are annoying computer robots that cause mischief on the Internet, and for some reason, they targeted my little corner of it.

Don't worry -- they won't bother YOU. Just ME. Today, some little Bot started filling out my sheet music forms. And he did it a whole bunch of times. He sent me a lot of total garbage, like ireighejqkeufgaYDNJGOWKGAL.

This bugs me.

I feel like somebody who's just come home from a wonderful night out and discovers that her home's been broken into. So, she walks around the entire house, and everything is exactly the way she left it. That should make her feel better, right?

WRONG!

That makes her even more paranoid -- she thinks, "WHY, then?" And "Okay, what did they REALLY want?" And "Ewwwww! What do they KNOW about me?"

Much better if the flat screen TV is missing, or the jewelry box. Because then there's at least a POINT to the break-in.

So, after I started receiving this junk email, I looked all through my website, expecting to find some evidence--maybe some of my pictures wouldn't load, or some of my links would be broken. Or maybe there would be dummy content everywhere.

But no. Absolutely nothing was changed.

Which makes me a little crazy.

Ahhh! Where's Mr. Monk when you need him? HE would know what to do.

Anyway, all of this to say that my sheet music and mp3 forms are down. That means you can't get the music for a while. But check back, because they'll be up again soon. After I figure out what to do, and after I find a way to be ready for the next time that Bot guy comes lurking around my website.

I intend to make Mr. Monk proud.

And you can always email me, if you really want a copy of the music. But I'm not giving my email out here. (I don't want "him" to get a hole of it.) So you'll have to go to the "contact" page, and hopefully you won't run into any unsavory characters along the way.

And so this is Christmas

2010-12-29T02:41:00.000-08:00

Christmas is over.

It feels a little like coming to the end of a really, really, really good book. Or like saying good-bye to a friend. No matter how many Christmases I spend, I always feel a little sad

on December 26th.

We had a quiet Christmas -- only 4 of us here together. But still, it was fun and peaceful and memorable. Here's my Top Ten List of Fun Stuff:

10. Our made-up "A Minute to Win It" game

9. The snow

8. Sending out CDs

7. Eating food made by Becca

6. Skyping Josh and Nate (and their parents, of course)

5. Answering emails about "Do You Have Room?"

4. Going to the MoTab/David Archuletta concert with John

3. Opening this present from Nate:

2. Having Gary home for Christmas

1. Talking to Elder Edwards.

Christmases come and go. I'm just happy that I got to spend another one with the people I love.

Day 21: The Santa-conomy

2010-12-23T04:21:00.000-08:00

We never made a big deal of Santa at our home. Yes, he "came," but he only ever brought one gift per child, and it was generally understood that we paid Santa for those gifts. Maybe it was our way of justifying the fact that he brought so little to our kids when their friends made a Santa haul. Don't get me wrong -- our kids had plenty for Christmas -- but the petty part of me wanted us to get the credit, not a fictional character.

I sometimes think about the weird Santa-conomy in our society, where everything revolves around getting stuff, and teaches that "he knows if you've been bad or good," and that he'll come to your home on one condition -- IF you've been good. Therefore, when parents have little or no resources to buy gifts for Christmas, the logical conclusion is not "Mommy doesn't have much money," (since Mommy isn't bringing the presents) but "I'm no good." It makes me kind of sick to think about that.

And while we're on the topic of fictional characters, I have to add my two cents about the Easter Bunny. While I get the correlation between giving gifts and the birth of Christ, I just can't do the same for the resurrection. And so the Easter bunny has not been part of our family traditions at all. My kids complained about the awkward moments when their friends would ask, "What did you get for Easter?" I told them, "Just say, 'I got redemption, and the gift of life eternal." Their response was to roll their eyes and claim they'd be scarred for life.

I've been thinking about all this again, and I coincidentally received an email yesterday from Marilyn, in Idaho. She and her husband never led their children to believe in Santa Claus, but let them in on "the secret," and instructed them not to ruin it for others.

Marilyn's motivation for doing this was different than ours. she wrote, "Parents teach their children to believe in many things, and one by one they admit to them in later years that each of these fantastic characters they have believed in wholeheartedly are not real. A myth and pretend. Some children are devastated, almost all are disappointed."

So Marilyn's parents, and subsequently she and her husband, decided they wanted their children to be very clear about what was real and what was not, so that they would "never have reason to doubt their parents when they bore testimony of God the Father and his Son, Jesus Christ."

I have a close friend who believes that Marilyn's approach is the only safe one, because basically, she says, everything else is a lie. And she would rather not lie to her children.

What do you think? Is this a legit concern, or do we just need to lighten up?

Day 20: Confessions of a New Blogger: Life's Tough. Get a Helmet.

2010-12-20T04:53:00.000-08:00

Okay, so this isn’t a Christmas post, but on the 20th day of my experiment, I just wanted to reflect a little.

I’m pretty new at all this. I haven’t really had a forum for people to listen to my music before, and I haven’t blogged much at all, as you can see. (Maybe it’s the influence of my sister, who calls them “blahhhhhhhgs.”) But now that all this stuff is out there, I’ve learned a few things–some of which I didn’t really want to know.

When John set up my site, he added Google Analytics — stats designed to help me, but instead, they make me crazy.

Like these categories, for example:

Bounce Rate: This is how many people look at a page and immediately leave it. But to me, it screams: “This is dumb.” And I actually have 100% bounce rate on a few things, and I have to admit – it’s a little hard to take, and I say to myself, “You’re right. That IS dumb. Don’t know what I was thinking.” Or “Yeah, I never liked that song, either.”

% Exit: I think this is a stat that tells you which pages are the last to be viewed, in other words (to me), the thing that makes someone say, “That’s it! I’ve had enough of this site! I am SO out of here!” Wow. I should delete those. Only problem is, people have to exit on SOMETHING, and by the time I’m done deleting, there won’t be any site at all.

Average Time on Page: If this relates to a song, and the average time is only 30 seconds, I think, “What?! They didn’t even get past the intro!” And then, “I always knew that intro was too long…” And then, inevitably, I have to face the real truth and say to myself, in my most grown-up voice: “Okay, Shawna, just admit it. They didn’t like your song. Life’s tough. Get a helmet.”

And lastly, there’s Viewer Loyalty: A percentage of the people who come back. Mine isn’t as high as a serious blogger would like it to be. …. This takes my craziness to a whole new level. “Just take the sheet music and run”.….I feel like I’m standing at the door, calling out, “But what about all the other stuff?!?!” as I watch somebody leave as fast as they possibly can. And since I don’t want it to end on a bad note, I add, meekly, “Okay then.…it was good to see you.….Come back sometime…”

Actually, I’m kidding. Mostly. I’m not really a basket case–I’m just a little sensitive. And so I take a minute to look at the rest of Google’s stats, which tell me that I’ve had a whole grundle of page views, and that people are staying longer than I expected, and that makes me feel a little better. So, if you’re reading this, thanks for visiting. And thanks especially for staying long enough to read the entire post.…and I’ll try not to have a breakdown if you leave the site now.

Day 18: Christmas at the Waffle House

2010-12-18T04:48:00.000-08:00

After the experience I had with “Do You Have Room?” last Christmas, my resolve grew even stronger to simplify, but I didn’t know how simple our Christmas would actually be. In fact, we would have one with hardly any trappings at all.

But that wasn’t necessarily our plan. We planned to take the two sons who were in town with us and fly to Indiana, where our oldest son lives with his family, including our only two grandchildren. It was to be a surprise – we would land in Indianapolis, buy food for our traditional Christmas Eve dinner, and go caroling to their home just as it got dark.

We boarded the plane the morning of Christmas Eve and checked one large duffel bag with everyone’s presents in it. We had been in the air for about 2 hours, when we heard this over the intercom: “Folks, this is your captain speaking. I wish I had good news for you, but I do not.”

Now, I’m pretty sure this would make the top ten list of “Things You Never Want to Hear Your Pilot Say.” Along with the next part. The electrical system on the left side of the plane had failed about 30 minutes before. And the system on the right side had just gone down, also. “So,” the pilot said, “We’re running totally on auxillary power, and we’ll have to make an emergency landing as soon as possible.”

I thought of all the emergency landings I’d ever heard about — on crowded freeways, into wooded hillsides, or worse – neighborhoods. I was very nervous. Then a really happy thought occurred to me. We were over Kansas. I couldn’t see anything out of my window except for clouds, but I was pretty sure that there’d be a place to land in Kansas. I pictured climbing out of the plane and into a cornfield. Turns out, we didn’t have to land in a cornfield, but we touched down, safe and sound, at the Kansas City Airport…..which we got to know well, because we were there for nine hours.

Then they put us on a plane bound for Atlanta. Why? I have no idea, but that’s where we went, and when we landed, the airport was deserted, except for one poor Delta agent, trying to help 300 people. My husband asked, “Is there anyone else here?” And she answered, “It’s Christmas Eve! Everyone’s gone home.”

What a great idea….

By the time we checked in to a nearby hotel, it was 11:30 PM. We were really hungry, and the only place to eat was 2 blocks away, and it was pouring rain. So we ran, through the rain, and arrived sopping wet at the Waffle House, which advertised that it had been open for 50 years. And it looked like it. I mean, I don’t think they’d changed a thing. There were a few quiet customers scattered around the restaurant, and 3 employees working in the open kitchen, and I was pretty sure none of them wanted to be there.

I wondered how to lift the spirits of the place and make it seem at all like Christmas Eve. I spied a juke box in the corner. Music! Music would change the whole atmosphere! I knew there wouldn’t be anything religious, but maybe “Jingle Bells” or “White Christmas.” No. My choices, inexplicably, were, “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer.” And “Daddy, Don’t get Drunk this Christmas.” Christmas Classics. Needless to say, I didn’t play either one of them.

We sat at the table and laughed like you do when you are tired enough to be giddy. It didn't matter what anybody said -- it was funny. Our food came. Here it is.

The first time in 30 years we didn’t have Teriyaki Steak and homemade rolls and cheesecake for Christmas Eve dinner. Still, it tasted pretty good, and we finished eating, got a short night’s sleep, and flew to Indiana the next day.

Not only did we arrive much later than we planned, but we did not come bearing food or gifts. Because all the grocery stores were closed, and the duffel bag that held our presents had been routed… to Cincinnati.

But we were safe, and we were together, and it was still a surprise. We read the Christmas story, ate a simple meal, and played with the boys. It looked a lot different than years past, but just like 18 years ago, we didn’t miss Christmas. We had a great time. And there wasn’t a present, a feast, or a function in sight.

I learned again the true gifts of Christmas, and was reminded how our Savior seeks to enfold us in His arms, no matter who we are, or where.

Day 17: Long Walk Gifts

2010-12-17T04:56:00.000-08:00

What are the best Christmas gifts you’ve received? Most likely, they are “long walk” gifts, like the one in this short story, told by Norman Vincent Peale:

An African boy listened carefully as his teacher explained why Christians give presents to each other on Christmas day. “The gift is an expression of our joy over the birth of Jesus and our friendship for each other,” she said.

When Christmas day came, the boy brought to the teacher a seashell of lustrous beauty. “Where did you ever find such a beautiful shell?” the teacher asked as she gently fingered the gift.

The youth told her there was only one spot where such extraordinary shells could be found. When he named the place, a certain bay several miles away, the teacher was left speechless.

“Why…why, it’s gorgeous…wonderful, but you shouldn’t have gone all that way to get a gift for me.”
His eyes brightening, the boy answered, “Long walk part of gift.”

I remember a few “long walk” gifts I’ve received: A written family history from my mom, a notebook full of letters from my kids, a beautiful hand-stitched quilt from my sister.…These are the gifts that I treasure the most, and continue to enjoy, year after year.

What are your “long walk” gifts?

Day 16: I Heard the Bells

2010-12-16T04:22:00.000-08:00

Makes me cry every time I watch this moving musical story told by Ed Herrmann, with the Tab Choir, about the poet Longfellow, who wrote the words to “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day,” after tragedy struck his family. Best Tabernacle Choir performance ever.

Day 15: The Red Stocking and Other Good Ideas

2010-12-15T04:19:00.000-08:00

A few good ideas about making room for the Savior that I’ve received lately:

1. On Christmas Eve, Melissa’s family hangs a red stocking for Christ by the fireplace. Everyone writes on a piece of paper what their gift to Jesus is this year and we read them together on Christmas morning. These stay in the stocking so we can read them year after year.

2. Anne Marie and her neighbors have decided not to buy neighbor gifts this year. Instead, the neighbors are pooling this money together, and they will donate it to a good cause — maybe a family that needs a little extra help this Christmas.

3. Tanya’s family focuses on one figure in their large nativity set each day. They talk about that person, read scriptures about him or her, and then add that figure to the display. On Christmas Eve, they focus on the Christ Child, and then place Him in His central place, making the nativity set complete.

4. And last, but certainly not least, from Mike: “I am trying to be a better husband and father.”
I can’t think of a better way to make room for the Savior than that. Thanks, Mike.

More good ideas to come in the following days.

Day 14: The Missing Christ Child

2010-12-14T04:16:00.000-08:00

This story is from Sally, and I love it:

My story begins years ago when I was backpacking through Israel and bought a beautiful hand-carved nativity set from olive wood. I set it out every year as my favorite Christmas decoration. When my youngest son was two, he kept taking the little baby Jesus from the manger to play with him. I would tell him not to, but he loved that little piece. Then one day, the baby was lost. I was so disappointed — what was the point of having a nativity if the focal point was gone?

I didn’t set it out for the next couple of years, but one Christmas I was thinking about how we needed to incorporate the Savior more in our Christmas celebrations and I thought of that set. When we lost the piece that year, I spent a long time looking all over the house for the baby Jesus, and then I realized — that is what I should be doing every year! That is the whole point of Christmas! So I now set that nativity out with the missing baby and it reminds me every year to focus on spending my time searching diligently for Christ.

Thank you, Sally.

Day 13: From Medical School

2010-12-13T04:02:00.000-08:00

A med school student refuses to study on the Sabbath, even if his grades suffer. This is the email he sent me a few days ago:

When I started Med School, I decided I wouldn’t study on Sunday. Ever. It’s something I felt I should do–but it’s been very difficult.

In medical school, your performance is largely based on how you compare to your classmates. Doing well here means doing better than everybody else. Reguardless, I knew I needed to put the Savior first in my life, even if that meant that I would get worse grades.

Shortly after making that decision, I realized that all of the tests were scheduled for Monday morning–and I knew that would make it even harder.

I honestly expected God would somehow make things easier for me–as a reward for putting HIm first. I imagined having endless capacity to learn and understand, being the smartest student, and getting the highest scores on all the exams.

I’ve found, however, that quite the opposite was true–the first exams in didn’t go as well as I would have liked. My scores were hardly the best. One night, I sat in my room feeling frustrated, and prayed to ask why I hadn’t received any help. That question went unanswered that night.
So my next train of thought was–if I wasn’t going to be blessed for doing it and if it was going to hurt me…than why was I prompted to do it in the first place?

The answer to that question came today as I sat down to visit (home teach) one of the girls in my ward (congregation)–I played your song for her and gave a message about making room for the Savior– She cried and said that she really appreciated the message and that this, along with the message I had shard with her the previous week, had really helped her out.

So the bottom line is this—had I been focused on school, I would never have taken the time to think about what I would share with that girl in my ward, and I would have never been able to deliver the correct message for her–For me this makes it worth it–to be able to serve God and our neighbor is more important that individual distinction and honors.

Now–for fear of short-changing the Lord, let me point out a few things—

1) my roommate contracted some sort of viral infection. He was totally out for an entire day. The next day my other roommate got the same infection with the same result. The following day, my last roommate got it–day four I was my turn, but I didn’t get sick–coincidence? I say no.

2) most of my classmates have lost the desire to study–they’ve become burned out. I have never felt burned out once. Coincidence? again I say no.

Shadrac, Meschach and Abed-nego knew that the Lord was able to save them…but if not, they still wouldn’t worship the Idol. The same goes for me: I believe the Lord can help me in med school, but if not—I am still willing to serve him.

Gary, I love your story, and what a great way to make room for the Savior. Good luck in Med School — I know you’ll be blessed for your faithfulness.

Day 12: The Story Behind "A Christmas Carol"

2010-12-12T03:55:00.000-08:00

Through the storm of tribulation, Charles Dickens did his best work, and discovered the joy of the Christmas season, and new-found faith in himself.

I love this story, written by Thomas J. Burns, behind the writing of “A Christmas Carol,” which makes the timeless story even more meaningful:

From its first publication, “A Christmas Carol” has charmed and inspired millions. There have been scores of editions and translations, and many stage, TV and film adaptations, making it one of the best-loved stories of all time. Less well known is the fact that this little book of celebration grew out of a dark period in the author’s career — and, in some ways, changed the course of his life forever.
On an early October evening in 1843, Charles Dickens stepped from the brick-and-stone portico of his home near Regent’s Park in London. The cool air of dusk was a relief from the day’s unseasonal humidity, as the author began his nightly walk through what he called “the black streets” of the city.
A handsome man with flowing brown hair and normally sparkling eyes, Dickens was deeply troubled. The 31-year-old father of four had thought he was at the peak of his career. The Pickwick Papers, Oliver Twist and Nicholas Nickleby had all been popular; and Martin Chuzzlewit, which he considered his finest novel yet, was being published in monthly installments. But now, the celebrated writer was facing serious financial problems.

Some months earlier, his publisher had revealed that sales of the new novel were not what had been expected, and it might be necessary to sharply reduce Dickens’s monthly advances against future sales.
The news had stunned the author. It seemed his talent was being questioned. Memories of his childhood poverty resurfaced. Dickens was supporting a large, extended family, and his expenses were already nearly more than he could handle. His father and brothers were pleading for loans. His wife, Kate, was expecting their fifth child.

All summer long, Dickens worried about his mounting bills, especially the large mortgage that he owed on his house. He spent time at a seaside resort, where he had trouble sleeping and walked the cliffs for hours. He knew that he needed an idea that would earn him a large sum of money, and he needed the idea quickly. But in his depression, Dickens was finding it difficult to write. After returning to London, he hoped that resuming his nightly walks would help spark his imagination.

The yellow glow from the flickering gas lamps lit his way through London’s better neighborhoods. Then gradually, as he neared the Thames River, only the dull light from tenement windows illuminated the streets, now litter-strewn and lined with open sewers. The elegant ladies and well-dressed gentlemen of Dickens’s neighborhood were replaced by bawdy streetwalkers, pickpockets, footpads and beggars.

The dismal scene reminded him of the nightmare that often troubled his sleep: A 12-year-old boy sits at a worktable piled high with pots of black boot paste. For 12 hours a day, six days a week, he attaches labels on the endless stream of pots to earn the six shillings that will keep him alive.
The boy in the dream looks through the rotting warehouse floor into the cellar, where swarms of rats scurry about. Then he raises his eyes to the dirt-streaked window, dripping with condensation from London’s wintry weather. The light is fading now, along with the boy’s young hopes. His father is in debtors’ prison, and the youngster is receiving only an hour of school lessons during his dinner break at the warehouse. He feels helpless, abandoned. There may never be celebration, joy or hope again…
This was no scene from the author’s imagination. It was a period from his early life. Fortunately, Dicken’s father had inherited some money, enabling him to pay off his debts and get out of prison — and his young son escaped a dreary fate.

Now the fear of being unable to pay his own debts haunted Dickens. Wearily, he started home from his long walk, no closer to an idea for the “cheerful, glowing” tale he wanted to tell than he’d been when he started out.

However, as he neared home, he felt the sudden flash of inspiration. What about a Christmas story! He would write one for the very people he passed on the black streets of London. People who lived and struggled with the same fears and longings he had known, people who hungered for a bit of cheer and hope.

But Christmas was less than three months away! How could he manage so great a task in so brief a time? The book would have to be short, certainly not a full novel. It would have to be finished by the end of November to be printed and distributed in time for Christmas sales. For speed, he struck on the idea of adapting a Christmas-goblin story from a chapter in The Pickwick Papers.

He would fill the story with the scenes and characters his readers loved. There would be a small, sickly child; his honest but ineffectual father; and, at the center of the piece, a selfish villain, an old man with a pointed nose and shriveled cheeks.

As the mild days of October gave way to a cool November, the manuscript grew, page by page, and the story took life. The basic plot was simple enough for children to understand, but evoked themes that would conjure up warm memories and emotions in an adult’s heart: After retiring alone to his cold, barren apartment on Christmas Eve, Ebenezer Scrooge, a miserly London businessman, is visited by the spirit of his dead partner, Jacob Marley. Doomed by his greed and insensitivity to his fellow man when alive, Marley’s ghost wanders the world in chains forged of his own indifference. He warns Scrooge that he must change, or suffer the same fate. The ghosts of Christmas Past, Christmas Present and Christmas Yet to Come appear and show Scrooge poignant scenes from his life and what will occur if he doesn’t mend his ways. Filled with remorse, Scrooge renounces his former selfishness and becomes a kind, generous, loving person who has learned the true spirit of Christmas.

Gradually, in the course of his writing, something surprising happened to Dickens. What had begun as a desperate, calculated plan to rescue himself from debt — “a little scheme,” as he described it — soon began to work a change in the author. As he wrote about the kind of Christmas he loved — joyous family parties with clusters of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling; cheerful carols, games, dances and gifts; delicious feasts of roast goose, plum pudding, fresh breads, all enjoyed in front of a blazing Yule log — the joy of the season he cherished began to alleviate his depression.

A Christmas Carol captured his heart and soul. It became a labor of love. Every time he dipped his quill pen into his ink, the characters seemed magically to take life: Tiny Tim with his crutches, Scrooge cowering in fear before the ghosts, Bob Cratchit drinking Christmas cheer in the face of poverty.

Each morning, Dickens grew excited and impatient to begin the day’s work. “I was very much affected by the little book,” he later wrote a newspaperman, and was “reluctant to lay it aside for a moment.” A friend and Dickens’s future biographer, John Forster, took note of the “strange mastery” the story held over the author. Dickens told a professor in America how, when writing, he “wept, and laughed, and wept again.” Dickens even took charge of the design of the book, deciding on a gold-stamped cover, a red-and-green title page with colored endpapers, and four hand-colored etchings and four engraved woodcuts. To make the book affordable to the widest audience possible, he priced it at only five shillings.

At last, on December 2, he was finished, and the manuscript went to the printers. On December 17, the author’s copies were delivered, and Dickens was delighted. He had never doubted that A Christmas Carol would be popular. But neither he nor his publisher was ready for the overwhelming response that came. The first edition of 6000 copies sold out by Christmas Eve, and as the little book’s heartwarming message spread, Dickens later recalled, he received “by every post, all manner of strangers writing all manner of letters about their homes and hearths, and how the Carol is read aloud there, and kept on a very little shelf by itself.” Novelist William Makepeace Thackeray said of the Carol: “It seems to me a national benefit, and to every man or woman who reads it a personal kindness.”
Despite the book’s public acclaim, it did not turn into the immediate financial success that Dickens had hoped for, because of the quality production he demanded and the low price he placed on the book. Nevertheless, he made enough money from it to scrape by, and A Christmas Carol’s enormous popularity revived his audience for subsequent novels, while giving a fresh, new direction to his life and career.

Although Dickens would write many other well-received and financially profitable books — David Copperfield, A Tale of Two Cities, Great Expectations — nothing would ever quite equal the soul-satisfying joy he derived from his universally loved little novel. In time, some would call him the Apostle of Christmas. And, at his death in 1870, a poor child in London was heard to ask: “Dickens dead? Then will Father Christmas die too?”

In a very real sense, Dickens popularized many aspects of the Christmas we celebrate today, including great family gatherings, seasonal drinks and dishes and gift giving. Even our language has been enriched by the tale. Who has not known a “Scrooge,” or uttered “Bah! Humbug!” when feeling irritated or disbelieving. And the phrase “Merry Christmas!” gained wider usage after the story appeared.

Day 11: The Gift of Love and Devotion

2010-12-11T03:49:00.000-08:00

Beautiful, simple message, from Janet in Utah:

I think your message is so poignant, yet simple. I strive each Christmas to ”Fall on my knees and hear the angel voices” every day. I have a large family and a long list, but I ask the Lord to guide me as to what I should accomplish in this day. Sometimes, the most important item of the day isn’t on the list. I have a certain burden this year that I will lay at His feet, trusting Him to lift it or carry it with me. My gift to Him is my Love and devotion.

Day 10: Room at the Inn

2010-12-10T03:46:00.000-08:00

“The blizzard began Thursday night, three days after Christmas, last year. In their small adobe ranch house on Route 56, about 40 miles west of Clayton, New Mexico, five miles from the nearest neighbors, the Glover family was prepared.”

So begins a beautiful Christmas story by Gary Sledge, called “Room at the Inn.” I noticed the story because of its title, of course, but was touched by this account of a family who welcomed one stranded traveler after another into their home during a terrible snowstorm. The story is part of a Reader’s Digest series entitled Real People, Real Miracles. As I continue to read your emails, I am convinced of the power of the individual to make a difference, if they are willing to make room for someone in need, like the Glover family did during the Christmas season of 2006.

Day 9: Willing to Share

2010-12-09T03:42:00.000-08:00

My friend, Joel, has a weblog, where he writes about technical stuff I don’t even pretend to understand, but last week, he was kind enough to feature my video.
A few days later, I got a letter from a woman named Michelle in Las Vegas, who’d been searching to find the right way to emphasize a Christ-centered Christmas at her Church activity. Two days before the event, she still didn’t have what she wanted. She wrote:

Then, Wednesday morning I came across the video and song you put together — Do You Have Room for the Savior? — through Joel Dehlin’s blog. My husband reads that blog. I have never read anything from it, but for some reason that day, I clicked on it. As soon as I saw that video I knew it was my answer. It was perfect! It covers everything I wanted and in exactly the way I envisioned it.

Joel and Michelle and I are sort of “strange blogfellows” – but such randomly good things can happen on the Internet, if you’re willing to share.
Thanks, Joel.

Day 8: An Eight Dollar Tree and a Nativity

2010-12-08T03:39:00.000-08:00

Without a job at Christmas, Lynn put up an $8 Christmas tree and a nativity, and called it good. I admire her pluck, along with a lot of other people, forced to look at Christmas in a different light because of economic struggle and uncertainty. These women are making the best of things.

From JBM in Arizona:
Dear Shawna,
This year, after many hard months with little to no paychecks, we have decided to do as much of our giving as possible, with the least amount of money. It really makes one think…what is their favorite color, what sport do they like, what is their favorite hobby, can I give a gift of service to them? How can I LOVE them better.…as the Savior would love them? It has made a profound difference in the way I, as a mother, listen, and in the ways that I know I can give and serve my loved ones. Thank goodness for savings.…we have more than most of the world and are very blessed at this time. To have our Savior as the focus of our Christmas season is the most important part of our holiday traditions.…

And from Lynn:
I first listened to your song in [church] and it was very touching. This holiday had been difficult due to employment problems for my husband. The Christmas spirit had just not found a place here because it was so discouraging. After hearing your song, I went and got a little $8 dollar tree and put my lights on it and part of my nativity set beside it with one dove hung on the branches and a star on the top. As I sat there, trying to decide what to do next, the simple message of your song made me realize that this was sufficient. A simple tree with a simple message, just like your song. Then after my husband’s job disintegrated 3 days before Christmas, your song…buoyed me up. Thank you. It has helped me remember not to focus on my difficulties and to focus on others.

Day 7: The Real Gift of Christmas

2010-12-07T03:29:00.000-08:00

You know that moment every year–when the true Spirit of Christmas unexpectedly appears? I love this video from the LDS Church Christmas topics page, which captures that moment in the life of one family. The message reminds us of the real reason for the season, and how focusing on the Savior can lift us out of the sometimes frantic and troublesome Christmas crush, and into a place of peace and goodwill.

Day 6: In My Arms Again

2010-12-06T03:25:00.000-08:00

If you only read one story from my blog this Christmas, read this one. I received this story from Tamara last year, but I’m posting it again, because it’s such an incredible example of faith and hope through tragedy. Tamara was also king enough to share this beautiful drawing of her children with the Savior. Thank you, Tamara.

Eight years ago this coming April we lost our little 2 1/2 year old [girl] when she was run over by a [car]. Such an extremely painful thing to go through…it truly makes you hold on to what you know to be true. We learned a great deal and the experience changed us in ways that only that kind of pain can. My other children became very focused on what was truly important. At that time we had five children. After a couple of years we had two more boys.

It had been over four years since we lost our little girl and we were finding life to be a little easier. We had just moved to our new property as we were building a new home together and felt like the Lord had brought us to this little valley.

Six months after we moved we had morning of fresh fallen snow on the ground. My three oldest headed off to school along with their two friends. They never came home. Their car went into an icy pond on their way to school. Five amazing, righteous, beautiful kids were called home that day in February 2007.

I have lost half of my eight children. Our friends have lost half of their four children. And just over a year later [another] friend lost 2 of her four girls, as well as her husband, when their truck went off the road into the river. Our little valley has suffered much loss as well as experiencing much growth and perspective as we all miss whom our Bishop calls the ‘Valiant 8′.

God truly has his purpose in calling them home and I see it often as they are remembered and are an inspiration to so many. As their friends tell of feeling their love and influence. As their quiet involvement in our lives becomes more apparent. As we have learned that the Savior is truly the only comfort we can find…knowing that because of Him, we will see them again.

One day I will hold them in my arms and they will never leave me again. The baby in the manger is truly a gift of immeasurable worth to me.

Thanks again, Tamara.

Day 5: From a Humble Apartment

2010-12-05T03:11:00.000-08:00

From Monica, in Oregon:

There’s one split-second clip in the video, right near the end, that shows a [family] praying. I can’t tell you how much that little part meant to me when I saw it. I had just been watching scenes of other great service that people render for those in need, and I felt a bit ashamed that I’m not currently doing any of those things. With a husband in law school and an active little two-year-old son, I’m happy to keep afloat most days, let alone find time for organized acts of service.

But when I saw that clip of that sweet mother praying with her children, I thought, “but I am doing that.” I felt such a powerful witness of how mothering provides some of the greatest opportunities for making room for the Savior. I don’t always feel like I’m making a huge difference in the world right now — my world is diaper changes, macaroni and cheese, sippy cups and naptimes. But that little portion of the video reminded me that I can make room for the Savior in my home and in my child’s heart through the little things — the hugs, the prayers, the scripture stories, the Primary songs sung as lullabies.

Tonight as I rocked my little one before bed and sang “I’m Trying to Be Like Jesus,” I heard your song in the back of my mind and felt that tonight, in a humble little apartment, there was room for the Savior.

Thanks, Monica, and all those diapers and mac and cheese and sippy cups are part of the greatest service you will ever do.

Day 4: Christmas the Way it was Meant to Be

2010-12-04T03:04:00.000-08:00

From the state of Washington, I got this email from Cindy:

My husband has been without work for 7 months now and as a mother of 3 small boys 10, 7 & 7 there is no harder time of year to find yourself without financially. I have had great heart ache over the reality that Christmas as we have known it in years past would not be a part of our lives this year. So what does that leave then?? It leaves me the chance to open my heart to the Savior and the true meaning of the holiday and humbly teach myself and my children what Christmas is supposed to really mean. It gives me a chance to find gratitude for my abundant blessings.

I have decided on wonderful creative ways to spend time together this month that are free or low cost and will create lasting memories and new traditions. What a GIFT!!! This has also lead me to the realization that the greatest gift to my children and the Savior this year will not be found in the toy store. It will be the time we spend building our relationships and testimony’s as a family as we DO. With this in mind I have found great hope, joy and unexpected anticipation for the Christmas Season and think this will be our best Christmas yet!

That was last year, but just 2 weeks ago, Cindy sent me an update, saying, “We had the chance to experience Christmas the way it should be: simple, spiritual, uplifting and calm.”

Thanks, Cindy.

Day 3: Balloons and Birthday Cakes in Michigan

2010-12-03T02:58:00.000-08:00

Michelle wrote to me about how she wanted to teach her three girls the true meaning of Christmas. Instead of focusing on presents last year, they decided to have a birthday party for Jesus. They opened one gift a week throughout the month of December. Then on Christmas Eve, they made a a cake together–a birthday cake for Jesus. And on Christmas morning, they opened one last present, had birthday cake, and went outside to let off a whole bunch of helium balloons, in honor of Him. I think this is one of the greatest Christmas ideas I’ve ever heard, and I am going to plan a neighborhood balloon release late Christmas morning. Can you picture how cool that would be?

Anyway, here’s the rest of Michelle’s story: She said she worried that the girls weren’t really getting the message, until one day when she picked her youngest daughter up from school. She had made a paper Santa Claus in her class. Michelle did a double take when she saw it, because there, right in the middle of Santa’s hat, was a simple drawing of the manger, with Mary and Joseph, and the Baby.

Thanks for your story, Michelle.…and I’ll let you know how the balloon release goes.

Day 2: A True Friend from Virginia

2010-12-02T02:54:00.000-08:00

I received this story in my email yesterday, from a woman in Virginia who learned the meaning of the word “friend.” She asked that her name be withheld.

I have felt inspired to share the story of a woman that I visit taught about ten years ago. It was the year that I learned what it meant to serve with the pure love of Christ.

I was a young mother, one toddler. My companion was pregnant with her first child. And we were asked to visit teach this sister who was 13 years older, the Primary president, a breast cancer survivor, mother of 6 children, etc. I was a bit nervous to visit her, because we seemed worlds apart.

But we went and this sister was so very kind to us. She was a great example of motherhood and love, and she taught us how to serve her. She had a surprise 7th pregnancy, and one day when I was trying to schedule visiting teaching visit, she said, “Do you know what would really help me? My father is coming to visit and my kids have been rubbing their hands all over the stairwell, and it’s hard for me to wash the walls because of my pregnancy.” That was the first time that I really understood that visiting teaching is so much more than visiting once a month. And when she called me one day and asked if I could take her to the doctor, because she was in so much pain she couldn’t drive, I grabbed my daughter and drove to her house, and realized that this is why I was her visiting teacher. So that I could help her right now. Her cancer had come back–lumbar, spleen, and kidney. Her baby wasn’t due for 2 more months, so they gave her steroids so the lungs could develop, then induced her so that they could start chemotherapy.

In the months that followed, I was part of the sacred experience of serving that family. Of course there was babysitting and meals–half of the ward was involved, but what touched my heart the most was the little acts of service as so many ward members used their talents to help bring this suffering family joy. One sister would keep the little girls overnight and give them pedicures, and she would also go over every Sunday morning to do their hair before church. Another sister loved to chat, so she would go over and visit regularly. Others would come and clean. The Young Men made sure that the 12-year-old son got out and had fun like a normal teenage boy every once in awhile. The High Priests would take the wonderful husband out to give him a break. A blind sister in the ward was distraught because she could not babysit or cook, but she was a masseuse, and someone else would give her a ride, and she would massage this sister’s feet and hands and bring her great relief from pain and swelling.

It was like being in Zion, where we were all knit together in unity, of one heart, because all of us had room for the Savior. All of us were seeking how to help the best. All of us felt the pure love of Christ, felt honored that we could serve this family. From these wonderful people, I gained inspiration. I babysat her children once a week. I brought her her favorite color roses when mine were in bloom. I brought her fun movies to watch. I helped her to write her life history and personal letters to her seven children.

And when I gave the eulogy at her funeral, there was a word next to my name that made all time and effort seem nothing. The word was, Friend. There is no greater joy than knowing that you have helped the Savior to serve someone, to love someone, to help be His hands for a time.

Thanks for your beautiful story–an inspiration to all of us.

Day 1: From India

2010-12-01T06:00:00.000-08:00

This is the first of my 2010 Do You Have Room? “stories.” I wasn’t going to start quite yet, but then I got a particular email this afternoon — simple and perfect — and it just seemed like the right time. . Besides, I figure if I post a new story every day from now until January 1, 2011, that will be 25 posts.

And that seems like a good number.

I received a lot of comments and stories last year on Do You Have Room? from all over the world. I’m not sure why, but when I posted the video this year, I didn’t expect to get any more of those. At least not from far away places. It just seems so improbable, still, that someone who lives on the other side of the world can hear and see something that I created in my family room.

That’s what Francis did today. And she’s from a far away place. Mumbai, India, to be exact.

It’s nighttime there now, and Francis is probably gone to bed. I don’t know hardly anything about her. But I know that she teaches music to children in her church congregation. So do I. And I know that she is a disciple of Jesus the Christ, and wants to share His message. And so do I.

And now, Francis and I are friends.

This is her simple note to me, in my Inbox early this afternoon:

Dear Ms Shawna Edwards,
We were amazed at the depth in the words of your creation: “Do you have room (for the Savior)”.
If you could let us have the lyrics we could teach the song to the children in our parish community, this Christmas.
Thank you.

Thank YOU, Francis. Your email made all the work I put into this project worth it — just yours alone. And I’ll send you the sheet music right away so the children can learn it. And maybe it will help them remember to make room for Him now and throughout their lives. As you obviously have.

I’ll be posting a new comment or story every day, from now until Christmas, so check back often, and hear from more people like Francis.

Wearing Boots in the Summer - and Other Good Ideas

2010-09-17T13:40:00.000-07:00

I went to the park today with Josh and Nate. Josh wanted to wear his boots, because, he said, "All my shoes are dirty."

I pushed them in the swings, and it reminded me when I used to push Johnny and Gary and I could never push them high enough or long enough.

Nate wanted to climb on the playground equipment and go down the slide by himself. I was sure he was going to fall, but when I tried to help him, he scolded me.

Kids know what they want, and sometimes, parents don't get why they insist upon things like wearing boots in the summer and going down the slide by themselves.

But grandparents know. Because they've seen it. They've seen how ordinary, quirky kids can grow up to be extraordinary adults.

If they're allowed to be themselves.

Graduating With Gary

2010-08-24T17:12:00.000-07:00

Graduating With Gary

It's been over a year now, but a friend of mine saw this picture and asked if I would write the story for the website she manages: http://mormonwoman.org

You can go there, or you can just read it here:

I always knew I’d finish my degree, but I didn’t know it would take me until I was 50 to do it. I had married John during my junior year of college, and we moved away and began having children. Since then I’d been a stay-at-home mom—the only job I ever wanted—but I planned to go back some day and finish what I started.
It seemed like the perfect time when three of our sons were students at the nearby university. I envisioned the four of us studying on the same floor of the library, meeting for lunch once a week, and even taking a class together. Then reality set in.
It wasn’t at all like I had imagined. The only studying I’d done in 20 years was to help with 5th grade math homework, and only because John was out of town. I couldn’t believe how much they expected me to read! And most challenging of all? I had to learn to use the computer. I was painfully slow at it, but by the end of the first semester, I could cut and paste without scissors, send mail without a stamp and browse without getting out of my chair.
There were other challenges as well. My son, Gary, describes the day he saw a woman across the campus courtyard, contorting and flailing her right arm while trying to get it under her backpack strap. I came from the era that didn’t know what “ergonomics” was, and we carried our backpacks slung over one shoulder, like a purse. But my aching back didn’t like that approach any more, and apparently, my strap was a little too tight, and as Gary drew closer he realized, “Oh my goodness. That’s my mom!” He hurried forward to help me, and probably to keep me from making a bigger fool of myself.
I was a piano performance major when I was a young student, but now, with two teenagers still at home, practicing 4-5 hours a day was out of the question. So I searched for another major. I had recently begun writing songs, and there was a major that sounded perfect for me: Media Music. The only problem was it would take me four years to graduate.
Wrong again. It took me six years. I struggled to complete assignments, and at least once a day, I said aloud, “What was I thinking?!” In the meantime, two of our sons graduated and moved on, and our daughter enrolled as a freshman. I often felt like I was just watching life through a window, not actually living it, and everyone seemed to be progressing but me. More than once, I told John I was quitting, but he encouraged me to hang in there. I was thankful for his support, and for reasonable professors and helpful students. And for Gary.
Gary had a full-time job, so it took him six years to finish, as well. When we discovered that we could graduate together in the spring of 2009, I had another reason to plow ahead.
Along with his own studies, Gary patiently listened to every version of every song, jingle, composition and film score piece I wrote. He has incredible taste in music, and he was my best critic. While most other people had the same reaction to everything (“I like it!”), Gary had the courage to tell me when it wasn’t good. Sometimes he even said, “I don’t like that at all.” Every once in a while, I played something for him for the first time, and he loved it. Then I knew I had something. I played some of his favorites at my Senior recital.

Finally, the big day came—April 24, 2009—and I underestimated once again. Only this time, I underestimated how great it would be. There was Gary, looking like a million bucks in his slightly wrinkled gown and his awkward hat, with his arm around me, introducing me to everyone he knew. “This is my mom,” and he seemed to be as proud of me as I was of him.
We took that long walk together, from the administration building, across the sky bridge, to the arena. We waited in the hallway until it was our turn. The announcer had been combining relatives all day (brother and sister, husband and wife), but when he saw our cards, he smiled and whispered, “Cool!” He announced, “Gary Edwards, graduating in biology, and his mother, Shawna Belt Edwards, graduating in music.” There was a long, loud applause from the audience while we posed for pictures, and as we walked off the stage, Gary asked, “Were they cheering for us?” I said it was because I was finally graduating and they were glad to get rid of me.
As the school year approaches, I feel a little nostalgic. I miss going to class, meeting new friends, and drinking in that wonderful back-to-school air. But more than that, I miss Gary, who has gone across the country to medical school. I miss how he makes me laugh at the stupidest things, rearranges my furniture and then puts it back again when I change my mind, plays Hoopla with me until 2 AM, does the dishes, watches American Idol with me, and carries my luggage on every trip. And of course, I miss his critique of my latest song.

Everybody takes a different path through life. Mine has been a little unorthodox, but I wouldn’t go back and do it differently, because then I would have missed out on graduating with Gary – an experience that I will cherish forever.

SWAMPED

2009-12-20T08:23:00.000-08:00

Dear friends,

I've been flooded with emails, and am trying to get to them all. I plan to take some time this afternoon and tomorrow to sort through everything and give you a summary of all that has happened, and a plan for the song "Do You Have Room" going forward.

Although I took the video down, this is only the beginning for the song, and there will be many ways to continue spreading the message. In the meantime, enjoy your Christmastime activities, and check back for more information.

Thanks for being part of my Christmas, sure to be one of the most memorable of my life.

I'll keep you "posted."

Much love,

Shawna

OUT OF THE ASHES

2009-12-16T19:50:00.000-08:00

This letter came to my inbox today. The writer gave me permission to post, but asked that his name be withheld. Wonderful story of friends and neighbors coming together to help two families in great need. And to his comments at the end of the story, I say, "Amen!"

Two families in our [neighborhood] just experienced a house fire in which they lost pretty much all of their earthly possessions. The blessing here is that they all made it out of the house with no injuries. As one could expect, the loss of everything still brings tragic circumstances. Their little girls were standing outside immediately after the fire barefooted in below freezing temperatures. This was very traumatic for these two beautiful little girls who have done nothing to deserve this.

As do all good faithful members of our Church, we rallied to their aide. Some brought blankets, clothes, new wrapped Christmas presents, RV's for temporary housing, generators to provide power into the burned home to light pathways to salvage what could be salvaged and to assess the extensive damage. Of course, food was supplied, and our wonderful Relief Society sisters wasted no time putting a meal schedule together to ensure these families do not have to worry about any meals in the weeks that lie ahead. There have been volunteers galore to help inventory every single item that was lost for insurance replacement costs. A fund was set up in the family's names to help them pay their insurance deductible and provide for immediate needs like clothes, shoes, toiletries etc.

....I have witnessed the hand of God at work in these two family's lives, through the love, support and service of our members. Out of the ashes, the pure love of Christ has been manifest. My testimony of His gospel has been strengthened because of my association with the Saints, our love for one another, our love for Him. "For inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me."

It is my hope and prayer that we all would just take a moment to notice those around us and look for opportunities to serve our neighbors, family and friends. When we make room to serve others, we make room for Jesus Christ. May the light of Christ burn brightly in all our lives.

IN MY ARMS AGAIN

2009-12-15T20:49:00.000-08:00

This letter, from Tamara, tells the story of immeasurable loss and remarkable faith. Tamara was kind enough to also share a drawing of the four children they dearly miss and the Savior, who is "the only comfort they can truly find." If you only read one story from my blog this Christmas season, read this one.

Eight years ago this coming April we lost our little 2 1/2 year old [girl] when she was run over by a [car]. Such an extremely painful thing to go through...it truly makes you hold on to what you know to be true.
We learned a great deal and the experience changed us in ways that only that kind of pain can. My other children became very focused on what was truly important. At that time we had five children. After a couple of years we had two more boys.

It had been over four years since we lost our little girl and we were finding life to be a little easier. We had just moved to our new property as we were building a new home together and felt like the Lord had brought us to this little valley.

Six months after we moved we had morning of fresh fallen snow on the ground. My three oldest headed off to school along with their two friends. They never came home. Their car went into an icy pond on their way to school. Five amazing, righteous, beautiful kids were called home that day in February 2007.

I have lost half of my eight children. Our friends have lost half of their four children. And just over a year later [another] friend lost 2 of her four girls, as well as her husband, when their truck went off the road into the river. Our little valley has suffered much loss as well as experiencing much growth and perspective as we all miss whom our Bishop calls the 'Valient 8'.

God truly has his purpose in calling them home and I see it often as they are remembered and are an inspiration to so many. As their friends tell of feeling their love and influence. As their quiet involvement in our lives becomes more apparent. As we have learned that the Savior is truly the only comfort we can find...knowing that because of Him we will see them again.

This Holiday season has been particularly hard for me as we have moved into our finished home this past year and there are so many empty rooms, empty places at the dinner table, along with all those things that would be part of our lives with 4 additional children.....but I know that one day it will all be made right. One day I will know why my children needed to go Home so soon. One day I will hold them in my arms again and they will never leave me again. The baby in the manger is truly a gift of immeasurable worth to me.

IT STARTED WHEN HER TREE FELL OVER

2009-12-15T20:33:00.000-08:00

I love this letter from Shirley in Montana, who has successfully traded in the traditional trappings of Christmas for a lasting and meaningful tradition.

My children had grown and gone from our home, carrying the traditions of Christmas into their own homes. I did the usual preparations one year, putting up the Christmas tree and lights. The next morning I came out of the bedroom to find my beautiful tree tipped over, lying on its side across the floor. The mess was not fun to clean up, but I did and got it all setup again. Three days later, I found it on the floor again. The tree went out the door and I have never put up a tree again. That marked the freedom I feel now with a change in my Christmas traditions.

Our mother had traveled to Israel and brought us back one of those beautiful handcarved olivewood nativily scene. It is truly a work of art and we love to look upon it. That became our central point and "Christmas Tree" from that year forward. I have a large crystal vase in which I place cut branches of greenery from the evergreen in our yard. I arrange a small string of lights on that greenery which hangs over and around the nativity scene and we place our gifts at the "feet of the baby Jesus", which reminds us that it is His birthday we are remembering.

The other change I made was I STOPPED shopping. Completely!! I spoke with my children and told them I did not want to spend my time shopping for something they did not want, did not fit, or was useless to them. I told them they could count on the X amount of money from me each year and if it was a good year they may perhaps see more than that, but please do not make me go shopping any more. Each child was pleased with that arrangement.

Now, instead of shopping, I bake fresh bread and go caroling to each of my neighbors, which is about 25 on the length of our 3 mile long Lane. I make up a new song each year with words that fit with the neighborhood and friends and put the words to [a] Christmas song that I love. I take time to visit with each neighbor about the events in their life throughout the year. I do so enjoy the neighborly feelings of love and support for each other. We feel kindness and care throughout the entire year with all the neighbors because we take time to visit with them each Christmas season. Opportunities to help have opened up to us for various reasons through the years that I have been doing this. I never really thought how much this action would effect me or my neighbors. It has only become apparent now, after all these years of consistently doing this.

NOTHING LIKE I HAD IMAGINED

2009-12-14T11:33:00.000-08:00

I couldn't post just one letter today, because I've received so many touching ones. This one, from Brian, tells the story of their son, and what he has taught them about life, love and making room for the Savior.

I would like to share with you the story of how one Christmas has changed my wife's and my life forever. It will be thirteen years ago this Christmas we awaited the birth of our first child. We had been married for ten years but had no children as yet. Getting nearer to her "due date", we, like other new parents, [were] growing with excitement by decorating the new nursery, picking out possible names etc. Our baby was due on Dec 11. As things progressed and became close, the doctors made a plan to "induce" Cindy if she did not go into labor. This was planned for Dec 18th. The drive to the hospital was calm. We even stopped for a bite to eat as they said it would be a long night. We talked bout our final choices for names. For some reason we seemed to know it was going to be a son.

I still remember thinking how I would teach our child to read, ride a bike, take to the park and play catch with. After arriving at the hospital and checking in, they were monitoring the vital signs of both mom and child. They said our child had turned during the last week and may be in trouble. A caesarian may be best, the doctor advised. At 10:18 our son was born. I did not hear the usual cries I had expected. They rushed our son to a special bed to take care of him. I later found out he was not breathing and needed some help. After 24 hours they wheeled our son by my wife's room so she could see him for the first time and before he has taken by helicopter to the hospital.

We were able to take him home after two weeks. After many months and seeing our son with delayed development, I knew raising him would be nothing like I had imagined. I did learn of our son's love to be held like a Teddy Bear and his love for music. Since then we have noticed that he responds differently to and loves inspirational music, especially music about the Savior Jesus Christ. I know he knows about Jesus Christ, that he his our Brother, our Savior and our Friend. Our home is now filled with this music.

My son and I have a close relationship and have shared many spiritual experiences together. I owe him much because he has helped me become closer to the Savior. I watch were ever he goes, he shares a contagious smile with those he is in contact with. We spend Sunday afternoons listening to music from some of his favorite artists, always checking that www thing for something new.

When he heard your song about "Making Room for The Savior", you could see the glow in his eyes that it spoke of someone dear to his heart. Thank you for sharing your gift with us all that we may all make more room in our hearts and our lives for the Savior. May we all "Be a little kinder, a little more generous, a little more thoughtful of one another" even to strive to be more like the Savior. As Tiny Tim said "Merry Christmas and God Bless us everyone."

AS HAPPY AS I CHOSE TO BE

2009-12-14T11:30:00.000-08:00

A beautiful letter from MaRee, who finds happiness despite some serious trials...a lesson in perspective for all of us.

I am from...a little wisp of a town in the southern part of Utah. I guess the way I am making room for the Savior in my life is simply being happy and trying to pass it on. The last four years have been a bit of a trial for me. In 2005 I lost my dad to kidney disease. In 2006 my mom was diagnosed with vascular dementia and suffers with TIA's (mini strokes). I'm the only daughter and the only one living here in town out of my family, so I am responsible for taking care of her immediate needs. In 2007 I was in an auto accident that totaled my car, compound fractured my ankle, and while I was down, I lost the job I had had for eight years. In 2008 I was diagnosed with cancer.

I found that I could be as happy or as miserable as I CHOSE to be. The one constant in my life has been my belief that the Lord loves me and that he indeed carries me through the rough spots. Why complain? It doesn't make things better or go away. Why cry? It just makes your eyes red and your make- up run. Why become bitter? Nobody wants to be around you when you act like that and you NEED people around you during times like these.

How do I make room for the Savior......I simply open the door, push everything to the side (and believe me things can get pretty deep at times), and invite him to sit down with me for a while. After a good heart to heart with him, I go out and look for those who might be having a bit of a struggle themselves. It makes me forget my troubles and I realize that there are definitely other people who have struggles and when it comes right down to it....I'll keep mine when I look at theirs.

"I WILL CARRY YOU"

2009-12-13T03:45:00.000-08:00

This letter is from Cynthia in Utah:

My mother is 90 years old and is in need of quite a lot of care and so I spend as much time with her as I can. She is such a strong and courageous woman who is slowly losing her identity through dementia and that is hard to come to terms with, losing your mother, while she still in her earthly existence. I think it is harder to have her here in body and have what makes her the sweet women she is lost somewhere in her mind. I also lost a dear niece in October, the same age as one of my daughters, and am feeling that great void that losing a loved one brings. However, I know that through our Savior, and His loving example and atonement I can feel His spirit wherever or whenever it is needed and I know that we will all be together again some day. Amy Grant has a song with the lyrics that are something like this... “lay down your burden. I will carry you, I will carry you, my child, my child”. I know He has carried me more often than I realize and the only way I can show Him my love and gratitude is to “make room” in my life for His love and to continue to follow and serve Him by perhaps making others burdens a little less.

Thanks again, I cannot begin to tell you how much your beautiful words and that wonderful video have comforted me and made me ponder if I really have made enough effort in making “room” for Him.

SHORT AND SWEET, BUT ONE OF MY FAVORITE COMMENTS

2009-12-12T06:54:00.000-08:00

From "Gymdaddio":

Thank you for softening my grissled heart. I am a believer.

GARDEN VARIETY CHRISTIANS

2009-12-11T05:35:00.000-08:00

From Ruth in Washington:

We live in the little farm village....This is orchard country.

I am involved in the music of the small Presbyterian Church. We also have a very small Lutheran group and the LDS church is the largest. They have good music which they share with the entire community each Christmas. I have a special love for the music we share with our fellow Christians.

We have 3 adult children living lives that are guided by our Lord and they have raised 3 grandchildren to follow.

I became a Christian as a teenager. It has been a bumpy road at times, but the Lord never let me slide away. As an older person, there is a great concern to do whatever we can to enrich our faithful .

We are just "garden variety" Christians, but believe that God has a use of every one of us.

IN A HUMBLE APARTMENT (Letter from a young mother)

2009-12-08T14:56:00.000-08:00

From Monica, in Salem, Oregon:

There's one split-second clip in the video, right near the end, that shows a mother praying with her children. I can't tell you how much that little part meant to me when I saw it. I had just been watching scenes of other great service that people render for those in need, and I felt a bit ashamed that I'm not currently doing any of those things. With a husband in law school and an active little two-year-old son, I'm happy to keep afloat most days, let alone find time for organized acts of service.
But when I saw that clip of that sweet mother praying with her children, I thought, "but I am doing that." I felt such a powerful witness of how mothering provides some of the greatest opportunities for making room for the Savior. I don't always feel like I'm making a huge difference in the world right now -- my world is diaper changes, macaroni and cheese, sippy cups and naptimes. But that little portion of the video reminded me that I can make room for the Savior in my home and in my child's heart through the little things -- the hugs, the prayers, the scripture stories, the Primary songs sung as lullabies.
Tonight as I rocked my little one before bed and sang "I'm Trying to Be Like Jesus," I heard your song in the back of my mind and felt that tonight, in a humble little apartment, there was room for the Savior.

UNEXPECTED ANTICIPATION (another letter)

2009-12-07T08:58:00.000-08:00

In this difficult financial climate, I've received a lot of letters like this one. Although they have been out of work, Cindy, from Washington State, finds a reason to believe that this will be her family's best Christmas ever.

"I needed to hear your song and it needed to find me last night! My husband has been without work for 7 months now and I think that as a mother of 3 small boys… there is no harder time of year to find yourself without financially. I have had great heart ache over struggling with the reality that Christmas as we have known it in years past would not be a part of our lives this year. So what does that leave then??
It leaves me the chance to open my heart to the Savior and the true meaning of the holiday and humbly teach myself and my children what Christmas is supposed to really mean.
I have decided on wonderful creative ways to spend time together this month that are free or low cost and will create lasting memories and new traditions. What a GIFT!!!
The greatest gift to my children and the Savior this year will not be found in the toy store. It will be the time we spend building our relationships and testimonies as a family.
With this in mind I have found great hope, joy and unexpected anticipation for the Christmas Season and think this will be our best Christmas yet!"

THE WAY GOD DOES (Another letter)

2009-12-05T17:59:00.000-08:00

From Gillian in Northern Ireland:

"Every Christmas I organise our Christmas Eve time of reflection and thought I was going to get this year off as we have a new Pastor at our church here in Belfast, Northern Ireland. He has however asked if I would help him. I have a chldren's story book which is based around the experiences of the Innkeeper, and this led me on a trail, the way God does, to your beautiful meaningful song on Youtube. Happy Holidays to you, and thanks again. Keep listening to the Spirit and letting the rest of us hear the message so clearly."

FROM AROUND THE WORLD

2009-12-04T12:42:00.000-08:00

I am posting a letter each day between now and Christmas -- all representative of hundreds of others I have received in the last few weeks. This one is from Tatia in Gilbert, Arizona:

"I had just a couple of weeks to put together a ward Christmas party. I wrote a narration and created a power point presentation, I knew it would be a lovely night, but something was missing. Then a friend sent me an email with a link to your website, and there was your song! I had found my missing link.

I found the missing link not only for our ward party, but also for myself. In an effort to try and make Christmas fun and happy for everyone around me, I was making myself frazzled and overwhelmed. I knew what I wanted Christmas to be for my family this year, but I kept skipping over it with everything else.

I have so much to be thankful for right now. Heavenly Father has blessed our family in allowing our Dad to still be with us this year. He is in Australia recovering from a second open heart surgery - without the surgery he may not have made it to the end of the year. I have two healthy wonderful children – a sweet young couple we know will be burying their first baby tomorrow. I have two brothers-in-law away from their families in Iraq and East Timor fighting to protect our freedoms and liberties. I have a brother and sister and their families who survived the earthquakes and Tsumani that hit the Pacific a couple of months ago; they live in Apia Samoa. And most of all I have the blessings of the gospel of Jesus Christ in my life. With the testimony that I have that He lives, how could I not have room for Him in my heart and in my life!

Thank you so very much for the reminder of what is most important to me and what should be most important to us all. The blessing of a Savior who came to earth, atoned for all of us, and has marked the way for us to return to be with Him again. This is what Christmas is all about. It is time for me to slow down, reflect and little and allow the true meaning and Spirit of Christmas to permeate my life, my home and my family."

MR. DUDE

2009-12-02T16:30:00.000-08:00

After

4 years of planning and studying

25 applications

5 trips across the country

a bunch of rejections

hundreds of hours of volunteer work

and thousands of dollars,

DRUM ROLL PLEASE

Gary has been accepted to medical school at Michigan State!

We celebrated by having a green and white day --

Green and white balloons

Green and white food

and to top it off, a green and white Spartan cake.

Gary wrote a letter about it to all of his beloved students, parents,

and fellow teachers at Wasatch.

He said, in closing, "Don't worry.

Wherever I go, the MD after my name will always stand for "Mr. Dude."

(In case you don't know, that's what the kids call him.)

Gary, way to hang in there.

I'm proud of you.

ALL HAIL TO THE TURKEY

2009-12-01T22:45:00.000-08:00

Becca hates it when people gloss over Thanksgiving and go straight from Halloween to Christmas. I'm not sure why it bothers her so much. Could be that she hates the commercialization of Christmas and loves the kinder, gentler holiday, and the natural sense of gratitude that Thanksgiving brings. But I don't think it's that complicated. I think she feels sorry for it. Yeah, sorry for Thanksgiving when people ignore it.

So, when she came home the day before Thanksgiving, and our Christmas tree was up and full decorated, the first word out of her mouth was "MOM!!!" And then, "What IS this?"

She set out to find a way to have Thanksgiving trump Christmas, and with the help of a table, a barstool, several books and a 3-foot wooden turkey, she did it.

Yes, the turkey was officially higher than the tree, and she decreed that it could not come down until AFTER Thanksgiving.

It didn't actually stop there, either. At ten seconds to midnight, Becca led everyone who was here in a countdown to Thanksgiving from her perch on the table, and then proceeded to have a ball-dropping ceremony. When the big day had officially arrived, everybody celebrated.

Okay! So I won't put my tree up early any more!

EDWARDS FAMILY SPORTS GRILL

2009-12-01T22:30:00.000-08:00

So, my family loves sports. Everything except soccer and girl's basketball, that is. A few Saturdays ago, there were three games on that everybody wanted to watch--A BYU football game, a Yankees play-off game, and some other college football game--all at the same time. And Nate had the answer....Check it out.

We had it all: GAMES,

FOOD,

and FANS!

What more could you ask for, really?

GRANDMA

2009-10-17T16:49:00.001-07:00

This is Grandma.
For 33 grandchildren and 47 great-grandchildren,
so far.
The first time I met her (my second date with John),
she fed me until I was stuffed, and Grandpa said,
"Mary, you've really outdone yourself this time."
He always said that.
Every time I go to her home, she offers me food--
including yesterday.
She's in terrible pain, has pneumonia and shingles,
and she's so weak she can hardly move, but she says,
"Shawna, do you want something to eat?"

Dear sweet Mary,
Thanks for:
laughing at our jokes
being present
not caring a thing about things
never forgetting a birthday
being steady and sure
filling us with good food
and comfort and wisdom and faith.

Most of all, thanks for raising John,
who is unfailingly kind,
just like you.

We love you, Grandma.

Pull up a chair

2009-10-12T06:18:00.000-07:00

This is my first post.
I guess that makes me an

OFFICIAL BLOGGER,

although I have no fancy layout, no gadgets or widgets
or whatever those things are, and,
most disconcerting of all, no followers.

MAYBE YOU WILL BE THE FIRST :)

Whether you are or aren't, I hope you'll come back --
where you can
PULL UP A CHAIR
for a few minutes,
maybe read something interesting,
or just listen to some new
MUSIC.
In the very least,
I hope you will share with me some of the ways
we can all get

A LITTLE CLOSER TO HEAVEN.