Puny Little Thought Processes

My dog has been contained in my yard for three glorious (for me, not her) months. Three days ago, she started escaping again. I have tried putting up a "white trash" barricade where I think she is getting out, but she is smart and secretive and she won't escape if she thinks I am watching. Various people have started bringing her back again, and I can only thank them and apologize for their troubles. People are always so kind. Olive has been an incredible instrument for me to meet my "neighbors". Come to think of it, she's been an incredible "tool" for a lot of positive things in my life. I am grateful for the "trials" that she has brought into our family's life.

Friday, Jordan and I broke ground on the Middleton Sign plot, for his Eagle project. It took us an hour, and this old farm girl held my own with my darling, strapping, seventeen year old son. Had it been a contest of strength, I would have been panting and begging for mercy, but because it was just good old fashioned work, and I've been taught by the best, I kept up the pace. It's kind of a fun thought to think that in 20 years, I'll be able to drive past the finished product and remember that that is where I spent a good hour, digging a hole with my son. I'm proud of him for all that he has taken on this year and the young man that is developing from the refining fire. Today Fred and I were invited in while he was being set apart to be the 1st Assistant in the Priest quorum, and like only a mother will, I started to worry about the intense load on his shoulders. He is actively involved in student council, has both a ward and stake calling, is trying to finish up his Eagle Scout Advancement and his Duty to God program, is applying to college, preparing for this summer job away from home and trying to prepare for his mission. As our church meetings let out and we met in the foyer, I asked him if he was going to be okay with all of this responsibility or if he felt like he was going to explode. He just smiled and said, "I'll be okay". I told him that I knew that he needed to grow up sometime and this was good training for adulthood, but it felt like it was a crash course in just one year. His reply, "That's what I get for laying around for 16 years!" In truth, he's an amazing young man and I think he's ready to fly; I'm just not ready to watch him.

I just finished reading "The Problem With Pain" and "A Grief Observed" by C.S. Lewis. I didn't mean to read them together, or in the order that I did, it was just a serendipitous chain of events that caused that, but the combination was so insightful and provocative. It is no secret that I am intrigued by the man; an intellect among men in the passionate pursuit of truth. Most of the previous works that I have read by him are analogous. These were more personal--more fraught with doctrines that he was "testing" and that I know he misunderstood, but so full of pieces of truth that he had uncovered, even in his wanderings. As with all of his writings, that are not for children, I am often "falling a little behind", but captivated enough to keep swimming in the deep waters. I am fascinated with what goes on in his head, maybe because intellectualism is such a foreign concept to my puny little thought processes. I found myself reading, and saying to Mr. Lewis in my mind, "Stop thinking so hard; you are making it so complex", and then in the same breath finding that his complexities had found a home. I think in my naivete, I am surprised by the idea of "finding" truth. My heart validates truth that has been found by others, and I know it more surely than if I had searched it out with my head; I don't wonder, I don't waver, but I am awed by someone who comes to those conclusions on their own, and then I remember about the light of Christ and how much Heavenly Father loves all of his children and I am awed again by how we each come to truth individually, through unique ways that are tapered to our personalities and characteristics. I feel so blessed to have the knowledge of the fullness of the gospel, and after reading "A Grief Observed" feel compelled and duty bound to share it, so others need not suffer so desperately. Eleanor Roosevelt said, "You must do the thing which you think you cannot do." ...And so I must.