Monday, December 28, 2009

Sugar

. . . I'm giving it up.

Maybe. I think. Hopefully.

It's been about two weeks. I haven't done it very thoroughly--I give myself one day a week off. And I haven't eliminated white bread and rolls. And I bend the rules a little with non-desserts, such as yogurt. And I put honey on my grape nuts.

But still. Compared to how much I used to eat, this is a big step.

I haven't stipulated a time-frame or anything. We're just taking it a day at a time.

So far, here's what I've noticed:

I haven't lost interest in sugar--things still look good, especially if I've let myself get too hungry. But I haven't had any huge, undeniable cravings either. In fact, the change has been surprisingly easy.

I haven't lost any weight. Sigh. But that wasn't my reason for doing it. Still, I had hoped . . .

I haven't gained energy. This WAS one of my reasons. Probably I need to eliminate white things in order to get this benefit. Or give up my day off.

I HAVE gained in appreciation for the taste of healthy things. Most noticably: cucumbers. I never liked them before. Now they taste so good! And apples and kiwis are so amazingly sweet.

I've had no sypmtoms of withdrawal, as far as I can tell. (Now, if I had to give up Cafe Rio, this might be a different story.)

Saturday, December 26, 2009

Little Drummer

I was brought to tears today listening to "The Little Drummer Boy" in very bad Christmas Eve traffic. This is all going to sound obvious because everyone knows what that song is really about, but I was so deeply touched to realize that Christ smiles at me, too, when I give my little awkward offering that is embarrassing to me because it seems so small compared to what others give.

I am a mediocre mother. There are many ways I could improve as a wife. I'm a bumbling friend and only passing-fair as a den leader. Even my writing skills (with which I've been trying to redeem my sense of worth?) are only moderate.

But I try. And I keep trying.

That little drummer probably felt embarrassed with such a strange gift compared to what others gave (OK, I know it's all a made-up story anyway—but as we know, we learn the greatest truths from fiction). But still Christ smiled.

My prayer this year is that I can feel Christ smiling at my offering, and that I can somehow radiate His smile to those I interact with.

And even though I've given it to you before, here is my Christmas poem for you, just because it says the same thing I've been trying to say here. Merry Christmas, my friends.

Shepherds
by Darlene Young

Don’t tell me about rose-cheeked Arcadian youth
gathering daisies on a hillside
piping tunes to their cloud-fluffy sheep
under the stars.

No, these were foul-smelling, lusty
men with dirty necks, greasy hands,
snorting, arguing, joke-telling, nose-picking
men—one wearing stolen
sandals (although I admit he felt
guilty about it)—gambling on who
had the best aim as they chucked rocks
at a nearby lizard.

You talk about salt of the earth—
these men were salty, alright
downright ornery, some of them,
fighting sometimes and yelling
at their wives when they were home,
which wasn’t often.

Yeah, I’ll grant you Dan
was an innocent
and Dave had some noble moments
and none of them was really evil
but they all had dirty fingernails
of one kind or another
when the light came—
yes, it came.

But don’t take away that moment just before—
flies whining over the sheep dung
and Jake and Zeke having a
spitting contest—
that’s the key moment, you see,
in all their grimy glory;
it has to be

because the light came to me too,
Alleluia.

Thursday, December 24, 2009

For your holiday enjoyment

Click on this if you are a fan of Handel's "Messiah."

(I really do wish I knew how to embed these things into my post. Sorry for my lack of technical expertise.)

Wednesday, December 23, 2009

Light

I've had some difficulties this winter with my health. It's probably due to a change in medication, but it came on just about the time that we had the daylight savings time change. The cold and the dark have affected me strongly and I find myself very sluggish.

I continue my love affair with what I don't have: robust, blooming, strong health. I wonder sometimes if anyone really has it; it seems like people do, but maybe they're faking it, like I am. How about you—do you feel fantastic? Even when I've felt well in my life, I've never felt strong. (My jr. high gym teacher called me "Bird Arms." It wasn't until I had grown up, earned my own teaching certificate, and learned to enjoy at least some small exercise in my life that it dawned on me what an atrocity it was that the teacher in charge of helping me find joy in taking care of my body was actually the cause of my hatred of anything having to do with exercise for many years.) I so look forward to the resurrection when I will be strong and run like a gazelle (also, I will have long, thick hair and a strong chin instead of this weak, doughy thing).

But in my foggy fatigue this winter I have been grateful more than ever before for the lights with which we celebrate Christmas. When even the middle of the day seems dark outside, I keep my outdoor decorative lights on. And all day I keep the Christmas tree lights and the ones decorating the banister burning. I can't believe how cheering it is to me to have them on.

I won't bore you with obvious statements about what light at Christmas-time really represents—you know it already. But I like to ponder how they keep burning, steadily along, regardless of whether the sun is up or down, or whether I am feeling well and triumphant or tired and grumpy.

They make me want to cry.

Tuesday, December 01, 2009

Bet you didn't know . . .

. . . the fabric on the benches in the chapel of the new Oquirrh Mountain Temple is pretty cool. You can actually make it 3-D if you let your eyes relax the way you do when you're looking at a "Magic Eye" picture. Really!

There are, of course, many other very good things to be found at the temple. Ahem.