I've been busy...

It's a lame excuse I know. I really do miss blogging but my kids are older, homework is harder (for ALL of us and it just seems like there aren't enough hours in the day! I know I know! It's the saddest story you all live through each and every day! But I moved to a different city on top of it! ;-)

There has been one thing on my mind for months though, and I really, really want it documented. Last May (hanging my head in shame) my Preston turned 12. The majority of you who read (or used to read) my blog understand the significance of a boy turning 12. Shortly after his birthday, Preston was interviewed by our bishop and was found worthy to be ordained a deacon in the Aaronic Priesthood. It was such a special day for our family. His Papa, Uncle Brandon, Uncle Robert and of course, his father, stood in the circle of men who were there to show their love and support for our son. There is nothing more sweet than watching my husband use his priesthood to bless our children. Watching him pass the keys of this same priesthood onto our Preston is an image and memory I'll hold dear for the rest of my life.  What a blessing it is to me to have them both in my life. I was overwhelmed by them all day. It's such an amazing responsibility for a young boy but I also know he has been preparing for this day and is ready. I don't often share my testimony of the gospel here but I feel its appropriate to do so now. I know this gospel is true. I know the priesthood was restored and that my husband and son hold the power of God to bless those of us around them. It warms my heart when I think of the goodness and mercy of my Savior. My son is not perfect but he is an instrument in the Lord's hands and I pray that he will listen to the Spirit to know when he is needed to go about the Savior's work.
Preston, we are so proud of the young man you are becoming. You are the perfect oldest son and we love to watch how warm and compassionate you are to your siblings. We love you so much!

Ontario Stake Youth Trek 2012

Last spring, Trevor and I were asked to be a Pa and Ma on our stake's youth trek. We said yes, because we say yes to everything (who wants to look bad in front of a member of the high council), especially callings, but we were more than a touch apprehensive about actually going. Trevor, because he hates taking time off work and me, because I would have to sleep outside, no tent, no shelter, with wild animals (insert rattlesnakes, bears, mountain lions, spiders, mice...) running amok all around me. *Shudder*

I wish I would've been more excited to go. I'm not kidding when I say that this was one of the greatest experiences of my life. Seriously. Even if one of those wild animals/insects (I'm still telling myself it was a spider not a mouse) woke me up the second night by crawling on my hand. Trev and I had 9 kids to look after and I know it sound cheesy but I'm so homesick for them right now. They were all so different and all so very awesome. Let's start the travel log shall we?

Wednesday night: Meet your family night/Make Family Banner/Drop off personal bucket. The list was posted on a random room in the Stake Center. I knew 2 of my kids and knew OF 3 more. The other 4 were complete strangers. When one of our daughters came to the door, looked through the list and promptly told her friends who in our family she didn't like, we started to get nervous. Everyone was really quiet, with the exception of muah. Typical of me to get louder as the situation gets more uncomfortable. On a side note, my heart was aching because I had just dropped off my 4 real children and it was William's birthday AND we hadn't even had an opportunity (or didn't make an opportunity) to sing to him. My baby was 3 and I was with a bunch of teenagers that didn't particularly like each other or us for that matter.


~Trevor, Devon, Kim, & Alina~

Thursday dawned bright and early. We had stayed up too late (NOT because we had procrastinated packing all the equipment our family would be needing and therefore having to make late-night runs to Home Depot and Target for supplies) and still being riddled with apprehension, I think I got 2 hours of sleep. We met at the Stake Center and all caravaned up the mountain to Riley Farms. I did make Trevor drive through Jack-in-the-box for one last Diet Coke. That was probably 90% of my apprehension, being cut off caffeine for 2 days.


~Trevor, Daniel, Me, Kim, and Alina in the back. Josh, Steven and Paula up front.~


~Trev, me, Daniel, Kim and Alina.~


~Ana, Steven and Paula in front. Devon, Alina, Me, Trev, Brooke pushing and Josh in back.~

We started the trek with a vignette of "Joseph Smith" (aka Matt Tesimale) being "tarred and feathered" (with chocolate syrup and marshmallows) by a "mob" (all the Pa's, including Trevor). I'll not lie, it started out more comical than dramatic, but we all did our best to imagine what it must have felt like. Then we started to walk. And walk. And walk. And walk. It was by far the longest walking day and most of it was done in silence. Awkward silence. If it wasn't for my Ana, we might have fallen apart then. But she would occasionally crack a joke about Kim having a model body or about reaching ZI-ON where there was root beer. She managed to get most of us giggling and smiling. Five minutes into the walking, the sole on Josh's boot started to desert the rest of it. By the way, duct tape fixes everything.


~Paula, Steven and Ana. Devon, Brooke, Kim and Daniel in back.~

There were other vignette's along the way and we heard real stories about real pioneers and real trials. We each had been given the name of a pioneer in the Martin or Willie handcart company that we would be representing, so to speak. My lady was awesome. Amy Loader. Mother of 8 girls. Six on the trek. She lost her husband and a granddaughter on the trek to Utah. One day, all her daughters had collapsed and refused to get up. She knew if she didn't get them moving again, they would die where they lied. She pulled her weary self to her feet and started to sway back and forth. Then started to twirl until she was full on dancing. She got her daughters smiling but they still wouldn't get up. Just then, she slipped and fell on some ice. All six daughters rushed to her aid. With a grin she told them she had fallen on purpose, knowing that they would all scramble up to help her. Clever mama.

Trevor's guy might have a cooler story than mine. Jens Peterson was crossing the plains when a member of his company sat down on a rock and out of sheer exhaustion, refused to go any further. Many people stopped to talk to this man, including Jens's father. But he refused to budge. Jens asked permission to talk to him. Everyone told him it was pointless but he wanted to anyway. He tried to reason with the man, tried to persuade him to no avail. Finally, he said, "Well, I'm not going to go without giving you a good whipping". He hit the man across the face and sprinted away to catch up with the rest of the handcart company. The man was so indignant that he ran after Jens. He never caught up to him on the trail, but later found him in Salt Lake City and thanked him for giving him the whipping that saved his life. Awesome right?


~Steven, Josh and Trevor resting after day 1.~

We walked for 7 miles that first day. we started warming up to each other and were fairly friendly by the time we reached camp. Dinner was stew in the dutch oven and then a sing-a-long. Lights out at 10 (and I couldn't sleep by Trevor, he had to be on the "boy side" of camp). I woke up to this view between the buckets (I took this picture with my banned iPhone).



A rooster woke me up at 3am and I swore I would have him for lunch, but other than that, the night passed by without event.

Friday


~Trev and I loading up Friday morning.~

We had yummy (read: bland) oatmeal for breakfast and we were off. The kids really started to talk more and joke more and stick together more. We crossed rivers with rafts (super fun for all) and the boys got to carry the girls across the "lakes" (fun for the girls...and the boys felt super tough). This part of the trek was a little more...hilly. It was harder but shorter. We stopped midday to sharpen our pioneer skills (sawing logs, shooting rifles, making rope, ropin' cattle, bow-hunting, etc.).


~Kim and Devon steading the handcart.~


~Josh carrying Devon across the water. He was always touched by the Valley Boy stories and this moved him a lot. Then his real mom mentioned it in her letter to him. The kids' parents were so inspired when writing those letters!~


~Part of the fam chillin'.~


~Devon, Kim, Brooke, me, Josh, Trevor, Steven and Paula sawing logs.~


~My favorite of us. I was so exhausted.~

That night after we got to camp and had dinner (chicken and rice and peach cobbler for dessert) we had a special Family Home Evening with our kids. We talked about the attributes of Christ and then had each of our youngun's go their separate ways to take a self evaluation of themselves as measured to Christ's attributes. Then we gave them each a letter from their parents. Steven lost his mother in October (stinking cancer!) and the wound is still healing. His dad just remarried and there is the tiniest bit of a chip in his shoulder about that. It didn't take him longer than a few sentences into his dad's letter before the flood came. It broke our hearts in two. We sat next to him and rubbed his back offering physical comfort, but not knowing what to say to him. After a few minutes, he collected himself enough to finish the exercise. There's more to this story, but I'll get to that in a minute.


~Paula during solo time.~

We had a hoe-down that night and my fancy footed husband (go on and laugh) even favored me in a dance. We slept in outdoor bunks that night, and sometime around 2:30am something woke me up. It was tickling my hand. I tried to shake it off but it clung to me. I flicked it off with my other hand and whatever it was, was so big, I heard it land several feet away (*shudder*).

Saturday

We woke and had another delish breakfast of bland oatmeal. Then we had an unwelcome surprise. All our men folk were taken away to "fight" for the Mormon Battalion. What the what? The ladies were on our own! It really made us appreciate all they had done physically throughout the trek. At the end of our little jaunt, we had a little hill to traverse. At little hill with a 70% grade to it. Man we have awesome girls! It was so hard but they all pulled together and got all 10 handcarts to the top. Waiting, at the top were our menfolk. There was a line drawn in the dirt that they couldn't cross. It was so moving to see the anguish on their faces when they saw their sisters struggling and there was nothing they could do to help. Quite emotional too.


~The Miles Ladies.~


~The start of the girls' hill.~


~This doesn't do the hill justice. It was so steep!~


~I love this picture of Devon. This really shows what we were all feeling.~

All that pulling took it's toll on our girls. There were several girls suffering from heat, hyperventilation, panic attacks, and sheer exhaustion. Those awesome men stepped in and our kids were able to witness the priesthood in action. One of my "sons" was able to give his first and second blessing. What an experience. The Spirit was so strong in that little grove of trees!


~While the girls were pulling the carts alone, the boys were practically repelling (without ropes) down this hill. Scary!~

Then our last and final push to Zion, testimony hill. It wasn't as steep as the girls hill, but it. Was. Long. Trevor helped 6 of the 10 carts up the hill (I managed 3), but our boys were stellar and did all but one. As we were pulling our own cart up, I happened to be by Steven. He had done so much already and I could tell he was exhausted. 20 feet from the top he collapsed on the side of the mountain. The rest of our group couldn't stop, otherwise we would've lost the cart over the side of the cliff face. I did stop, however and sat there trying to get him to slow his breathing to match mine, offering what comfort I could. I told him I was right by his side and I wasn't ever going to leave him. Just then he popped up, and sprinted to the top of the hill with me right behind him. I don't know where he found the strength but it was amazing to watch. He was able to go back down the hill and help with all the remaining carts and without having any other issues.


~The last cart up Testimony Hill.~

The walk in to camp was awesome. We each had our families with us, kids in the front of the carts pulling with the Ma's and Pa's behind. Each of them had their own parents waiting for them in camp and there were plenty of hugs and tears all around. We had one last family prayer, and Trevor told them how they were the elect of God, sent here at this time and place because they truly were strong enough to handle these last days. He doesn't get emotional very (if ever) often, but he was struggling then. Again, such a strong spirit.


~Our family pulling into "Zion". Paula, Josh, Steven, Ana, Daniel, Devon, Brooke, Kim, Alina.~


~Our family with Trev and I bringing up the rear.~

We had a great BBQ with the whole of the group and their families. I'll admit to feeling a little homesick for them as we walked away, back to our car and reality. On a side note, Josh's boots completely betrayed him in the end and he ended up walking on nothing but socks and didn't get so much as a blister, miracles much?


~Sole-less Josh (with Alex Matheson on the left)!~


~Last family prayer.~

It was fantastic to get back home to a hot shower, diet coke and our four own babies. We slept like the dead that night!


~Home.~

Sunday night we had a fireside testimony meeting for all the kids and their ma's and pa's. All my "kid's" testimonies were awesome but one will stick in my brain forever. My Steven. He talked about how hard his mom's death has been on him. On the night we gave them their parents letters and Steven had broken down, it had been because his father had written that his mother was watching over him through the veil. She was beside him and she would never leave him. Then, when he collapsed on that last day, he thought he could go no further, that his body had been pushed beyond what it was capable of, there was someone next to him, telling him that she was there beside him and that she wasn't going to leave him. He said he knew it was his Ma, but in that moment it was like I was his real mom. He found that inner strength and was able to finish the trek stronger than he could have imagined. I was hysterical. We're talking ugly crying here. What a sacred experience to be a part of. I'll never, ever forget it.

Paths

This post is going to be a bit random. I'm sending out the warning now, it's a bit sentimental and a tad long (however, there's a cute picture at the end to try to make amends). There has been so much going on and I don't really know where to begin. How 'bout in April?

Most of my faithful blog readers (all 3 of you) already know that Trevor was laid-off in April. I really didn't feel like blogging about it at the time, or the following four months for that matter. I just didn't feel like going to that dark corner of my mind every time I sat down to the computer. This is my happy place. I wanted it to stay happy. I'm not bagging on those who have shared this same experience with the rest of us, in fact, I gained a lot of comfort by those who have. I guess that makes me selfish in a way by not returning the favor.

We tried not to dwell on the negative side of life, like having no job or income:) and instead, started counting our many, many blessings. We were able to stay in this house which should have been sold years ago. We still had a way of putting food on the table. We had an amazing support system in all our family and friends. We had our health, which, according to my sister Holly, is everything. We had a very happy little family that was about to get a little addition. Trevor and I like each other, so we knew we weren't going to get on each other's last nerve. We had several family visits to look forward to. And most importantly, we had faith.

We've had a fling with unemployment before and we've always been taken care of. We've never been homeless or foodless or anything...less. We've always been watched over and have never been without the necessitates of life. We knew this experience wasn't going to be any different. So as time went by, what do you know, we were looked after. We had a very busy summer to keep our minds off the stress that this struggle should have given us. We had a baptism, a crazy birth, a baby blessing and lots and lots of family time. It was hard to think about trials when we were having some of the most wonderful experiences of our marriage. Like I said before, Trevor and I really like each other. We just enjoy being around each other. Through all our crazy skirmishes with life, we've always grown closer together, not to brag or anything. We decided that we need to be independently wealthy so Trevor could retire and we could just hang like the lazy bums we are for the next 60 years or so.

Still, we needed a job. It was pretty frustrating at times, not seeing much movement in that department. But we kept plugging along (when we weren't hanging out) and eventually the interviews started to come. Last Friday he got a job offer and he started this past Monday. We are, obviously, incredibly grateful. Once again, someone had His eye on us and our faith in our Heavenly Father is stronger than ever (is it disrespectful to say, He's the Man?). Maybe that's what this trial was for. A faith builder. Or maybe Heavenly Father knew I was going to need Trevor's help adjusting to life with four rug rats. After the last 3 days alone, I think it might be the latter reason. Next Monday is the first day of school and I don't think it can come save me fast enough. Getting rid of half my kids for half a day sounds pretty appealing (even if it's the least demanding half). I'm not complaining, honest. Sigh, I've always been a bad liar.

I have to take this small opportunity to thank everyone for their prayers offered in our behalf. I know there were a lot of them. I know they were heard. We all know now that they were answered. So...thanks. So much.

I've been thinking a lot about plans and paths and purposes and designs lately. Mainly, the Divine plan or path or purpose or design for each of us. I have a rad nephew. He's had a rocky path lately. I have two cousins who are on rocky paths. Why? That's a question I try not to ask very often. It doesn't help. More often than not, it infuriates me. My rad nephew is only 14. What he is facing is not fair. I think of his mom, my sister, I just can't comprehend what she must be feeling about the path her son has been placed on. I marvel at her strength having to watch him go through this. She's a rock star. What I do know, is that although Jax's rocky path, and my cousin's rocky path and my rocky path aren't fair. We are not alone. This life can be stinky for sure. It makes absolutely no sense at times. But there are little miracles along the way that show us we are not enduring our afflictions companionless. We aren't going stag to this dance. His hand is everywhere if we choose to look for it. It's in the healthy birth of a baby boy and the service from family and friends. It's in a busy summer, or an expert doctor from Texas.

We may not like all the stretches in the road, but I think we need to enjoy the pavement while we can. And when the road gets rough, try to enjoy the scenery.

Blessing Time

~Our family is complete...we think.~

William was blessed by his good lookin' father on August 2nd. It was a beautiful blessing that was enhanced by the presence of much family. We were fortunate enough to have ALL of Trevor's family and a partial batch of my family at Will's blessing. We realize we were a bit fast on the draw, our baby boy being only 2 weeks old at the time, but having my mom and sister in town was too strong a temptation NOT to have it whilst they were here. Here are a few shots of the day...


~Mom, Becky & Co., and us. Trevor was behind the camera.~


~The Miles Family (with Louise as an added bonus).~

Tomorrow (or the next day, or the day after that) I'll post a little more about Mom, Rebecky, and Courtney's visits. For now, I'm just too lazy.

Preston's Big Baptism Day

~Preston Scott Miles, baptized July 11, 2009.~

What can you say when your first born gets baptized? Should you get all emotional, write about how proud you are of this awesome decision he has made? Should you get all sappy over your husband who is worthy to baptize and confirm him?

~Trevor and Preston suited up twice.~

Should you reveal that you cried over how fast time is flying and how grateful you are that so many family members came out to support him? Or that you instantly started bawling when your mother started playing the prelude music?

~Our awesome extended family. Seriously, the awesomest family ever.~

Or should you be more light hearted and mention the very easy nacho bar you provided for dinner afterward or how your husband forbade you to decorate the cultural hall?

~Preston's biggest fans.~

Should you mention that your 5 year old was so bored during the intermission movie that he fell asleep on a folding chair? Or your nephew who was actually snoring through it?

~I thought he was kidding at first.~

Or should you just say what a wonderfully perfect day is was and how you're a little relieved that it's all over?

Ditto Kylie...Talks Are Scary!!!

I was asked to speak next Sunday. I swear I did it a few months ago but I was reassured it's been 18 months or so. Here's the problem. The talk is on "Christ was sent to be the Redeemer of the world" or something to that effect and I need to make it Christmasy. That's not the problem. I can write the talk just fine. But there is no way I'm going to be able to do it without sounding like a blubbering idiot. I would much rather print out a copy of the talk for everyone in the congregation and have them read it to themselves silently for 10-15 minutes and be done with it. And I'm also the final speaker of the meeting. So in summery, I have to talk about my Savior and the greatest gift He has given me, tying it all together with a Christmas theme (which makes me start to cry just thinking about it) and be eloquent and poignant enough to leave everyone inspired for next few days until Christmas. Pressure much? To top it all off, I was inspired to write about my Grandma Bishop (who, if we were Catholic, would totally be a saint). Anywho, I was reminiscing about her and Christmas and all the wonderful times we had with her. Yes. I cried. A lot. So, I wanted to write down one of the many Christmas memories I have of Grandma. First, a warning to all my readers who knew Grandma, it may make you cry. Then again, it could just be me.

Grandma loved to shop. And when I say "loved to shop" I mean she was dead serious about the business. Do you all remember how she used to bring two pairs of shoes so she could change them half way through the day so her feet wouldn't hurt? The lady was a pro. I believe she truly enjoyed shopping for all her 23 grandchildren. There was always something handpicked by her for us to open on Christmas. Without fail. The Christmas I was remembering was in 1994.

Many of you remember that, after several months of being very sick to her stomach, Grandma was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. This was three weeks before Christmas. She had been too sick to shop, so instead she decided to give us all money. Here's what touched me, though. She hated the thought of us not having a present to unwrap so much that she called her Mary-Kay consultant and ordered a bottle of lotion for all of us. I think all the boys got pocket knives or something. Here our sweet Grandma was dying and she was worried about us not having a gift from her to open. She was always so selfless. 18 days later she passed. It's hard for me to think that it's been 16 years since then. I miss her so much.

Just the other day, I got a Christmas card from her sister, my great aunt, Eloise. It made me cry that I wasn't sending and receiving cards from Grandma. She would have loved getting all those cards from us.

Anyway, sorry about this little trip down memory lane. I just miss my Grandma and wanted to share a little bit about her. I must get back to preparing my talk. If anyone has any great ideas, PLEASE let me know. If anyone wants to give the talk for me, I'm willing to pay...

"A More Determined Discipleship"

I thought this was appropriate, in light of all that has been going on, this election year. Many members didn't agree with the Churches support of proposition 8. I, for one, am compelled to follow the voice of the Prophet. It astounds me that others find fault in the same voice. How many times have we said, while reading the Book of Mormon, "why can't the Nephites just figure it out? When they follow the Prophet and obey God's commandments they are blessed and when they don't, they have to endure mass destruction, bondage and poverty." I don't think it's much different today. Will those who come after us, say the same things about our generation? Will they wonder why we blatantly disobeyed our Father and disregarded the pleadings of our Prophet to stand up for the sanctity of marriage and the preservation of the family? I thought this quote, given nearly 30 years ago was inspired at least. I marvel at they way these out of date words may be more applicable now than they were then.

"Make no mistake about it, brothers and sisters, in the months and years ahead, events are likely to require each member to decide whether or not he will follow the First Presidency. Members will find it more difficult to halt longer between two opinions. President Marion G. Romney said, many years ago, that he had 'never hesitated to follow the counsel of the Authorities of the Church even though it crossed my social, professional or political life.'"This is hard doctrine, but it is particularly vital doctrine in a society which is becoming more wicked. In short, brothers and sisters, not being ashamed of the gospel of Jesus Christ includes not being ashamed of the prophets of Jesus Christ. . . . Your discipleship may see the time when such religious convictions are discounted. . . . This new irreligious imperialism seeks to disallow certain opinions simply because those opinions grow out of religious convictions."Resistance to abortion will be seen as primitive. Concern over the institution of the family will be viewed as untrendy and unenlightened.... Before the ultimate victory of the forces of righteousness, some skirmishes will be lost. Even in these, however, let us leave a record so that the choices are clear, letting others do as they will in the face of prophetic counsel. There will also be times, happily, when a minor defeat seems probable, but others will step forward, having been rallied to rightness by what we do. We will know the joy, on occasion, of having awakened a slumbering majority of the decent people of all races and creeds which was, till then, unconscious of itself. Jesus said that when the fig trees put forth their leaves, 'summer is nigh.' Thus warned that summer is upon us, let us not then complain of the heat."--- Elder Neal A. Maxwell Feb. 1979 Ensign

For the record, Proposition 8 passed. We have protected marriage for the time being and are now "knowing the joy of having awakened a slumbering majority of the decent people of all races and creeds...". The fight is far from over. There is already a pending lawsuit, fighting to overturn the peoples will that was expressed yesterday. Summer is upon us...

President Hinckley

My sister Heather just called me with some terribly sad news. They had breaking news in Utah, our beloved President Hinckley passed away tonight at home. She shrewdly assumed it wasn't going to be breaking news in California. But it should have been in my opinion. This might be a tad lengthy for post of this nature, but it's not only my blog, it's kind of my journal.

It's not a shock, he was 97 after all, but, he was kind of "my guy" as far as Prophets go. I was very young when President Kimball died, as well as when President Benson died. I never felt really connected with President Hunter, as his time as President was so short. President Hinckley was prophet for almost 13 years. And they seemed to be the most influential years for me gospel wise.

I loved his sense of humor. He was so eloquent and kind, but had a sweet quirkiness about him too. I will always remember his legacy of temples. I can't remember the number, but so many temples have been built under his direction. I especially admire his love of his wife. I was always so touched when he talked about her. In the conference after her passing, he said about her death, "As I held her hand and saw mortal life drain from her fingers, I confess I was overcome. Before I married her, she had been the girl of my dreams, to use the words of a song then popular. She was my dear companion for more than two-thirds of a century, my equal before the Lord, really my superior. We've walked together side by side through all of these years, coequals and companions through storm and sunshine. And now in my old age, she has again become the girl of my dreams".

So sweet right? Anyway, reading that again makes me happy for him. He's reunited with his sweetheart and is in a much more peaceful and beautiful place. Anyway, I just thought I'd share some of my thoughts about him. He was truly a prophet of God and I just adored him. I know that President Monson will be a wonderful president as well and I'm grateful to know that the Lord has a perfect plan for His church and that we never will be left without successor to our prophet. I take great comfort in that, and great comfort in this testimony from our dear President Hinckley, "Now, my brothers and sisters, I express to you again my love. May heaven smile upon you. This work is true. Never doubt it. God our Eternal Father lives. Jesus is our Redeemer, our Lord, the Son of the living God. Joseph was a prophet, the Book of Mormon is of divine origin, and this is God's holy work in the earth. I leave you my witness, my love, my blessing as we separate to go to our homes. May God be with you till we meet again is my humble prayer".

I can just see him now, waving his cane goodbye to us all. He will be missed.