REFLECTING ON BLESSINGS

I'm posting this a little early since there's a good chance I won't get to it tomorrow morning. You see I've got a turkey to stuff, potatoes to peel, and a few jillion other tasks planned, but I don't want to miss the most important part of the day--just being thankful for all of the many blessings that have come my way.

TODAY IS THANKSGIVING DAY

Ever since October Conference, I've been thinking and talking about gratitude and since today is a day set aside for giving thanks, there are a few more things for which I wish to express thanks. At the top of my list is a deep sense of relief and gratitude that at the moment my family is cancer free. The last few years half been rough on that score with the loss of four family members and hard fought battles by several others. I, myself, am a cancer survivor and my doctor reminded me just last week that it has been seventeen years. I am deeply grateful for the medical teams and the prayers of loved ones who gave me those seventeen years. As hard as it was to face my own cancer, it was harder to watch two of my daughters suffer through their battles with the dreaded disease and I'm doubly thankful they are both strong and healthy today.

I'm part of a very large, diverse family. When we get together, we look like a mini United Nations. I am grateful for the bond of love we share even though we represent half a dozen different ethnic groups and I'm not sure how many different religions. As one niece said "we love each other anyway, warts and all. And man, we have a lot of warts." I'm grateful for every last one of my family members and all of our assorted warts.

I'm grateful for my immediate family, my husband, my children and their spouses, and my grandchildren. I think they're pretty special and there isn't a day that I don't thank God for their presence in my life.

Serving in the Oquirrh Mountain Temple is a choice blessing in my life and I'm so very thankful I've been given this opportunity. In addition to the spiritual blessings I receive and the joy that comes through this service, I also appreciate the many friends and those who read my books who whisper a quiet greeting to me there.

I'm appreciative of my country and the privilege I have of living in America. Like my family, our government has a generous number of warts, but it's a privilege to live in a land where I and every citizen has a voice in fixing those warts.

I appreciate and give thanks for a warm, comfortable home and a generous bounty of food on my family's Thanksgiving table. Even good food tastes better when shared with loved ones and there are a good number of loved ones gathering around my table today. I, indeed, have much to be grateful for.

Some things you CAN take with you...

This week, I am grateful for books. Well ok, I’m always grateful for books. I am, without a doubt, a nerd of the first order, but as I know a lot of other people who love to read and write--and I do hold them in high esteem--I figure I’m in good nerd company.

The reason it’s coming to mind so readily now, however, is because of a quote by Richard G. Scott that I came across a few days ago: “After this life, you will be restored to that which you have here allowed yourself to become.” This is wonderful—after we end our journey here, we will be restored to what we’ve worked on. Basically, it sounds to me like we get to pick up where we left off.

I’ve often heard the quote that runs something along the lines of “you can’t take it with you when you go,” and I’ve always taken that as two-fold. One, the physical trappings here on earth don’t amount to much when we’re dead, and two, since all I can take with me when I go is what I’ve managed to put into my head, I’d better stuff it as full as possible.

Enter real life. Life has a way of intruding on the best of intentions, and the time slips by more quickly every day. I tell myself I’m going to learn about this or that, make a study of some author I’ve been meaning to get to, and it just doesn’t seem to happen. But as much as I do love books, there are lessons to be learned from those real-life experiences that suck up all of our time. I figure if I can somehow sandwich in book time with living, I should be good to go.

This is such a fun time of year, and it’s a blessing, really, to take the time to actually count our blessings and be grateful for what we have. My list this year could probably stretch on for pages, and I think, in fact, that that’s exactly what I’ll do. I’m going to make a list of every little thing I am thankful for and see how long the list stretches.

I challenge you to do the same! Have a wonderful, wonderful Thanksgiving holiday.

Where am I?

As you know, I'm cleaning out and straightening up and putting my life in order - at least my closets and drawers and shelves. Yesterday I pulled my journal notebooks from the shelf to see if I had typed my 2002 journal entries or if they were still on the little floppy disks and needed to be transcribed. Unfortunately, they need to be transcribed - a whole year's worth! That may take me months in trying to decipher the words through the computer garble. But as I put monthly dividers in my 2003 journal, I discovered this page that was a thought to my children.

Sunday, January 19, 2003: "As I was saying my prayers this morning and doing my scripture study (currently reading The Mortal Messiah and the New Testament Doctrinal Commentary both by McConkie who really tells it like it is with no comfortable conscience cushioning as we study the New Testament in Sunday School) I had a thought that was totally unnerving. My life on earth is over half finished - I've been here longer - by far - than I have time remaining. And I am nowhere near a finished product! My biggest problem: subjecting my willful, rebellious body to my spirit which should be leading me and my actions instead of the other way around.

It came as such a surprise because I don't feel, inside, that I'm much beyond - say - 28. I don't feel 64 years old (except occasionally my body reminds me that I am not 28!) So it was a total revelation to me that my time to get it all together is diminishing rather quickly and I'd better get with the program or I'll never make it. Exactly where would I go if I were to die today? Have I gotten myself to the point where I could comfortably and worthily dwell with the Holy Ghost? Certainly I don't think I am worthy to be in the same sphere with the Savior, and what more do I have to do to make myself worthy to dwell with Father - to return to his presence?

The whole thing boils down to governing this rebellious body. When the Spirit quietly whispers "make that phone call" to someone, and I ignore it or feel I'll get to it later, that is disregarding or "rebelling" against the Spirit. When I pray for help in using my time wisely, and yet ignore the feeling I should go do "this" now and I don't, that is disregarding or rebellion against the Spirit. When I have one more bite of high calorie whatever, when I just asked for help to control my appetite and lose 15 pounds, that is rebellion on the part of my body over my spirit. Or when I say something I should not say, or don't say something I should, same thing.

I know these things. I've known them all my life. But sometimes I have to be reminded how simple everything really is. We either do what the Spirit tell us - or we don't. And if we don't, if we ignore or procrastinate, then we are saying: "Thanks, but I don't think I want to live that higher law right now. Tomorrow I'll do it."

But how many tomorrows do I have to bring this body (and tongue and mind) back into submission to the Spirit? What promises did I make before I came here that I haven't kept because I'm not listening to the promptings - or I'm procrastinating - or ignoring them?

Just some thoughts that surprised me this morning - so thought I would pass them along so you can think about where you are at your different points in life - and which sphere or kingdom you would inherit if today was your last on earth. Love, Mom"

So this column today is a reminder of how valuable journals can be, and how often we need to check on our "status" in life and see where we are in perfecting ourselves in preparation for our life in the next sphere. Happy Perfecting!

Scallywag

Scallywag. It was a word my dad often used to gently reprimand us if we were "acting up." My dad was known by friends and family as a character. He told the best stories and made people laugh. If he were alive today it would be his 90th birthday. Happy Birthday, Dad! I'm grateful to have grown up under the tutelage of a man of industry, integrity, and humor. To honor him on his special day, I'm going to share some of his wisdom.

One: Don't be a Scallywag. I never really knew what that was, but it sounded like something to do with pirates. I'd read Treasure Island, and I didn't want my name associated with those rough and one-legged ruffians.

Two: He taught us (me and my sisters) not to be "full of bologna." This meant that on those occasions when we wanted to fib, or expand a personal story into the realms of fantasy, we were to remember not to be full of false meat. It was a disgusting image and therefore a powerful deterrent.

Three: He'd remind us not to "toot our own horns." This one had to do with overt pride and excessive bragging. For some reason, this bit of wisdom always comes to my mind on New Year's Eve when I'm tooting away on one of those little party horns. It really isn't a pleasant sound.

Four: We knew we'd pushed the child/parent argument to the limit when his bass voice would rumble that we "didn't have a leg to stand on." I'd stop arguing immediately, but wonder how I could still be standing if I didn't have a leg to stand on.

The list of platitudes could go on and on, but I've got a busy day: grocery shopping, laundry, researching for my next book, and ten other things...

Dad would say, "Stop burning the candle at both ends!" or, "Slow down and count your blessings." Good counsel.

A week from today is Thanksgiving, and surely my wise and funny dad will be high on my gratitude list.

Time

I had an interesting experience yesterday that gave me an opportunity to stop and reflect.

I noticed a certain clock hanging on the wall. It was the kind that is ran by satellite and it couldn’t find its signal. Therefore the hands on this clock were racing around like crazy ticking away the hours of the day within only minutes.

At first I had to laugh as I surmised there are times I feel I am racing out of control like that.

Then I sobered a bit…

The hours in my day tick by like crazy and at the end of the day I wonder where the time has gone and what I have to show for the minutes that have sped by. Did I accomplish all that was needed? Did I do what was the most important in the grand scheme of things? Did I treat everyone the way I know I should be treating others? Did I spend my time showing my family how much I love them, and enough time caring for them?

I consider myself a fairly busy—even too busy at times— person. Though I am constantly justifying that all the things I am involved in and all that I am doing certainly need to be done or have their place in my life, I still find myself feeling guilty for the things left undone because I ran out of time.

For example, I had to work, so I didn’t spend enough time with my family… that one stabs at my heart almost constantly. I tell myself that on my next evening off I will do a really great family dinner and activity to make it up to them. Of course when the time rolls around, low and behold, I’m either exhausted, (or lately, sick) or sure enough, they have plans. Murphy’s law? So to remedy that, I have had to alter my plans.

Rather than making an elaborate evening out of our time together, we make the most of the time we do have together instead. Maybe we’ll catch a movie, or even rent one and have a movie night at home with treats or we’ll stay in and play a game. Last night I took my son Christmas shopping and we sang Christmas songs together. (Maybe a tad early for Christmas songs, but we had a ball singing at the top of our lungs in the car!)

Time is racing on.

I need to be conscientious of how I use my time. At the end of the day, I want to look back and know that I filled my time with the things that are meaningful to my family, my friends, myself, and of course to my Savior, rather than just doing activities that fill my time.

Author Fame

James Patterson is the richest and most successful author in the US, where apparently one in every seventeen books sold is authored by him. But would you recognise him in the street? What about if you're a fan of his books - would you know him if you stood behind him in the queue at the supermarket checkout? I certainly wouldn't.

Now what about the equivalent Hollywood actor - Tom Hanks? Would you know to ask him for an autograph if he was on the table next to yours in a restaurant? Probably. You might even get a little starstruck and lost for words in the process. What about your favourite sports stars or musicians? Their faces are probably well known, and they are frequently mobbed, or find themselves under virtual house arrest because of the difficulties of going about their daily lives anonymously.

I don't write for the money or the glory, but it strikes me that if I was going to be famous for something, I would really like it to be for writing, if only because all your readers ("fans"?) see of you is a little black-and-white photograph, and that's only if they bother to look at the inside back cover. You get all the good trappings of success - fan mail, financial rewards, the satisfaction of having entertained people - with no need for bodyguards or disguises.

That's not true of every author, of course. Stephenie Meyer (no. 3 on the list) is reputedly not enjoying the pressure of fame at all, and J.K. Rowling (no. 10) is recognised worldwide, but they are the exceptions. When I think of my favourite authors (excluding those above, those I've met in person or those who have also been on TV) I don't think I can picture the faces of any of them. In fact, I've just read The Number One Ladies Detective Agency by Alexander McCall Smith which was a superb book, and didn't include a photograph of the author at all. For all I know, he could live on my street.

There is one reason, and one only, that I would like my name to be well known, and that is because I get so fed up with having to spell it to people. In my mind, I see hubby dearest and I checking into a (five star luxury) hotel somewhere, and discovering that the receptionist is a fan. The exchange goes something like this:

Receptionist: What name is the booking under?
Me: Buttimore. That's B-
Receptionist: I know, like as in Anna Jones Buttimore?
Me: That's right.
Receptionist: And can I take your first name?
Me: Anna. Jones.
Receptionist: Oh..!

Yes, I admit it, I'd get quite a thrill out of that. Mostly out of not having to spell out my name, you understand.

Jump-starting---NaNo-style

So there I was, minding my own business when two things happened almost simultaneously. Within a couple of days of each other, one of my sons called to give me a "pep-talk" about writing . . . something I've neglected lately for a variety of reasons---and not too long after that enlightening chat, my brother called to encourage me to enter a competition called NaNoWriMo. I'd never heard of this particular delight before (don't make fun) but it sounded intriguing.

My brother went on to say that he and his wife had both tried this adventure a couple of years ago, and had enjoyed it immensely. He challenged me to sign up that very night (October 31) while I was talking to him on the phone. I think he suspected I would bail after our phone chat. ;) He was probably right. So he guided me through the process of signing up. After that, we discussed a few other items, then I hung up the phone. Curious about what I had just committed myself to do, I tried to sign in . . . and my user name and password weren't recognized. I figured that was a sign and shrugged the whole thing off.

The next morning, I was stunned to find a plethora of e-mails from the NaNoWriMo group in my e-mail inbox. Somehow, despite the glitch, I was a full-fledged participant in this year's competition.

I tried to sign on, and ran into the same problem with the e-mail and password scenario. So I valiantly persevered and made a couple of changes. Suddenly, I had access to my own personalized screen with instructions on how to participate in this year's event.

Filled with a new determination to follow this through (the old "if my brother can do it---I can too," philosophy) I began typing away. At first, it was like trying to break through a brick wall. But knowing this particular manuscript didn't have to be perfect, nor please anyone else, I kept typing. Soon I had my first 5 thousand words. What a feeling of accomplishment.

I'm currently at the halfway mark at nearly 25,000 words. I'm intent on completing this endeavor, and the story I started a couple of weeks ago is taking shape nicely. I may even submit it somewhere someday.

I think periodically as writers, we hit a brick wall. Some writers refer to it as writer's block. Thank heavens inspiring challenges like this can help us through this obstacle. I would say the NaNoWriMo event that takes place yearly, is indeed a writing vehicle that can jump-start our creativity.

While it's too late to sign up for this year's event, I would encourage anyone interested in the writing world to participate in next year's event. Here is the link:NaNoWriMo

Incidentally, I've learned that NaNoWriMo stands for National Novel Writing Month which takes place each November. I've been impressed with how many writers take part in this event. And I, for one, will more than likely tackle it again next year. ;) Now . . . back to my budding masterpiece . . .