Music soothes the savage beast

Having been plagued with nightmares of a most horrendous variety for most of my life, there have been some stretches of time where sleep was a vague memory. Night after night, the terror comes and even awake, the dreams bring frightening emotions and feelings that are persistent and feel very real. A constant in all of these episodes is a feeling of impending doom and dread that is as difficult to shake as anything I have ever known.

But, when those times come, I can get a relief and release from the grip of the terror in only a couple of ways.

While I pour my heart and soul out in my prayers, I reach for my scriptures and for my music. They are the only solace for the agony.

I have been directly counseled to do just those two things when the night terrors come. They provide a source of comfort that none else can.

And the blessing of having a worthy priesthood holder in the home who can help me sort through the madness is something I cannot underestimate. No matter what time of the day or night, Rick is willing to help me and share his and the Lord's strength with me at a moment of total weakness and helplessness.

It is a true saying that music soothes the savage beast. While some sayings are just that and full of mostly hot air, this one is right on target as it not only soothes the beast, it removes it.

How thankful I am that a loving and kind Father in Heaven provided solace and calm in the simple melodies and harmonies that can bring peace through the storm!

I remember reading a sign on a billboard by a little country church that I pass on the way to Jared's school now and again. It read "Stop telling your God how big the storm is. Instead, tell the storm how big your God is!"

The simplicity and truth of the statement isn't lost on me.

On those nights when I have nothing left but the tiny flame of hope to cling to, I reach out to the One who can and will make it possible to survive the night.

Then, the beast recedes, the peace and calm are restored and the living presence of an all wise and caring Father and His Merciful Son come and bring a lightness that defies all human understanding. It is a blessing that I ardently seek in those scary hours when the night seems so very dark and long.

Through the inspiration of the scriptures words and the gentle whispering of the Holy Spirit in the music, there is peace and the soothing calm brought by the touch of the Master's hand on a troubled sea of emotional turmoil.

I know I have far more doubts in my life than I should. I can't always claim to act faithfully. I know that Father is willing to reach out to me even when I don't always reach out to take His hand. But in the times that I do, something akin to miraculous occurs. The things that seem so very troubling in the shadows of the night are swallowed up in the glorious light of His truth.

He is in charge.

HE IS IN CHARGE.

And with that, the peace and calm are brought near and the music echoes His promises made in the Holy Scriptures that He will always love and care for us as His Children.

One of those days all day long

There is no such thing as the perfect life.

Dream all you want, but it simply doesn't exist.

Nothing could have brought that thought into such sharp focus than today has. Sometimes, stuff happens. We can't stop it, we can't fix it, we can't make it all better. We have to endure it.

We pray over our family, our circumstances and the many friends who touch our lives, we plan and we dream and we hope. Our towering thoughts create powerful images of what we believe to be the 'best thing', but, through the midst of all of this frenetic activity, we need to remember that our Father in Heaven is in charge.

Sometimes that is a lesson that we forget. He knows things we don't. Really. Some stuff that is historically bad personally and emotionally that leaves a seared and raw scar can also bring some of the greatest and most wonderful blessings of walking with God in order to survive. He carries us through the realities of our mortal life. He makes it possible to know that there is more than this one moment.

Even when we THINK we know how things should be, Father has a plan that sees so far beyond our mortal ability to perceive and understand, that He can create blessings in our life anew that surpass our most wild expectations. He can bless us in ways we simply cannot imagine or even think of until that very moment arrives!

Blend that blessing with the reality of our mortal journey through our personal afflictions and the daily slog through the morass of daily living.

What you get is a complete day filled with reminders that "I am not in charge".

I have cried today and prayed today and in weakness pleaded for understanding to things that are beyond my ability to comprehend.

I have felt the weakness of the mortal part of my eternal self in a humbling reminder that I NEED my Heavenly Father and desperately desire the blessings that the Atonement of His Son, my Savior, can bring into my life.

Then, through the miraculous and most appreciated blessing of the priesthood of God upon the Earth, I have felt the spiritual healing that brings a brilliant shaft of Light into my being and helps bring me back from the arms of despair and into the warmth of a Love so fluid and so wonderful that my entire being - body, soul and all - is suffused with a joy that has helped me to see that I don't need to know everything, I just need to know the One who does.

It's been one of those days all day long.

But I honestly believe we have these days to remind us that we matter on an individual level as real children of God who must seek him on the days when nothing makes sense and tragedy is manifest in the lives of those we care for from day to day.

Peace be unto you.

What beautiful words! And within those simple words is a universe of healing even in a day that seemed to be broken in many pieces and beyond repair.

Cowboy Up!

Springtime means only one thing in Limestone County: RODEO!

And the Limestone County Sheriff's Rodeo is a wonderful event, particularly for the kids like Jared who are disabled and usually are on the sidetracks of life watching everything pass by at a high rate of speed.

We went out to the Rodeo grounds about 9:30 in the morning to participate with the other kids in his class and all of the 'special' guests who had been invited from the area. Schools and organizations that serve the needs of the handicapped youth and adults from our area brought buses and vans filled with eager participants.

Cowboys, rodeo clowns and the Queen of the Rodeo were all at the ready to make sure that each one of these participants went home with memories and smiles.

Jared loved his time there. We did the fishing pond and rode the hayride. Jared watched while some of his friends rode the horses. He got a horse painted on his right cheek and won a little stuffed horse from the fishing pond. While we were there, Jared had his photo taken with the Queen, got her autograph on a beautiful photo of her wearing her crown, and enjoyed his time just soaking in the atmosphere that makes it all great. We waved to the riders and smiled at the clowns.

Although the day was chilly, the warmth of the people who took the time to make this day fun for my son and so many other like him who are less able in visible ways was undeniable. Sometimes, you have to go beyond the norm to achieve something good.

In this case, I have to say, the people who organize and prepare all year for this event have done something more: they have achieved a measure of greatness. They have opened their hearts to the people who are truly a representation of the meek and lowly in our world.

God bless cowboys! Though the cowboys are rough and tough and strong so that they can handle the animals that make the rodeo such a heart-pounding, thrill-a-minute draw, underneath that rough exterior beats a heart filled with a kind of love and compassion that can't be seen by most folks.

Unless they came to the Exceptional Rodeo Friday.

That's the one place that the heart of the American Cowboy is seen in all of its red, white and blue American glory.

It just doesn't get any better.

Pajamas and email

While I normally do a great deal of email every single day, there are times of the day in which I prefer to be in my pajamas for the effort. Virtually every school day, I am in PJ's or my bathrobe for the first few mails of the morning.

I wonder if that is reflected in my answers?

Do they bring on a spell of yawning for the recipients (or is that a natural consequence of reading what I wrote)?

Then there are the times, like now, when I am not only completely dressed, but reasonably coherent. It's Sunday and we all have to be out of the house early for meetings before the meetings.

While I can't lay claim to the content of my messages being any less yawn inspiring, I can at least grab the brass ring and shout out that I am dressed and ready to go, including hair and makeup.

That in and of itself is a major accomplishment since I am not a 'girly girl' who really likes the hair and makeup gig.

But, having said that, I realize that there are times when certain dress and behaviors are expected for certain things.

So what is considered email dressing?

Suits and ties? Slacks and a nice silk blouse?

Pin striped pajamas?

Semi-clean bathrobe?

And, assuming there is a dress code secretly enforced in email sending and receiving, who gets to determine what is considered appropriate?

While I completely understand that pajamas are not considered workwear for the successful business person (unless they work for a pj making factory), I have to wonder what constitutes appropriate attire for various occassions.

I remember years ago receiving an invitation to a reception which indicated that the dress was black tie. Having been raised by a genteel Southern woman, I instinctively knew that wasn't referring to women wearing ties, but rather to formal wear.

We didn't attend the event.

Not because we didn't know the people or wouldn't have enjoyed an evening out, but rather, I don't OWN anything that formal.

Sometimes our opportunities in life are determined by our clothing.

I am glad, that at least for the time being, that we don't have some governmental department of clothing. I expect it any day now. Fashion police will not only be free to be snarky in magazines and on cable programs, but they will be free to actually impose penalties for improper wear for public and private functions.

Soon, I'll find that I am no longer able to stroll to my mailbox in my bathrobe for fear that I will find myself ambushed with cameras rolling in a fashion hostage crisis from the deep ditch in my own front yard.

Boldly broadcasting my fabric and color matching shortcomings during prime time, my lack of fashion sense will earn me some horrible penalty which I am unable to pay - like sewing individual sequins in a garish pattern on a prom dress.

Lacking both the sewing skills and the sequins required for the job, I will be confined to the forced labor of sweeping up after the rodeo horse parade on a hot summer day.

But for now, contentedly I eat my breakfast in my PJ's and read the mail both consequential and inconsequential that fills my e-box today. I am safe. For now.