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Tuesday
Oct172017

Plowing Through

I knew I had a pre-existing condition with change. An adverse reaction to it. I once replaced my hairdryer and the on/off button and speed buttons were opposite my old model. It nearly did me in. Then there was the time I got a new purse after nine years. Tailspin. Let's not talk about the time I got a new makeup bag and it was 1/4" shorter than my longest powder brush. Tremors.

Yet when I read this Gordon B. Hinckley passage last February I got all excited about moving:

(referring to the Mormon Exodus which began in 1847)

"I stand in reverent respect for Brigham Young. He saw the Salt Lake Valley in vision long before he saw it with his natural eyes. Otherwise I doubt he would have stopped here. There were greener lands in California and Oregon. There was deeper and richer soil elsewhere. There were great fields of timber in other places, much more water, and climates more equable and pleasant.

"There were mountain streams here, it is true, but none of them was very large. The soil was totally untried. No plow had ever broken its hard-baked surface. I marvel, I simply marvel, that President Young would lead a large company...to a place where there had never been a sowing and a harvest."

The gift of being an earth-breaker! I was lucky enough to be the first occupant of a plot of land; my future home was being built on the blank slate I dreamed of doodling on from the moment I saw it.

Then we moved. With the move came a new smart thermostat, water softener, humidifier, grill, microwave, range, oven, steam oven, ice maker, garage key pad, shower faucet, cable provider, and dishwasher. And sunglasses! I short circuited numerous times and Ari can testify I went on an anti-German rant that lasted an entire dinner meal. (My Miele oven was too small for my pizza pan. Don't mess with my homemade BBQ chicken pizza. And the German microwave is too short for a standard baby bottle. Clearly Europeans in general don't care about babies or family-sized dinners.) Greg endured my rant because he's infatuated with our filtered German ice cubes that look like little footballs; nothing pleases Greg more than frigid water. In fact, every night he walks in from his commute and drinks a glass of cold water. Then he sighs and says, "Man, who could ever live without cold water? I want to write an ode to cold water." And I roll my eyes because I drink tepid water all day and his water stings my gums and makes me think I'll be booking a gum graft in the next few years. So we're not dessert compatible OR water compatible. Super.

Six weeks after le move I was on edge. Night after night I had delved into carefully selected reading material from an 11" stack of user manuals, none of which caused sweet dreams. Then Greg bought our new van for a smoking deal on his way to work, two weeks ahead of schedule. More manuals! More not having a clue why my bluetooth was syncing but the rear entertainment wasn't silencing! More searching at the bottom of my Mary Poppins purse until I remembered I had keyless ignition! That night as we walked up to the community mailbox (which I am still getting used to) I said something like, "Honey, if we buy one more thing I don't know how to use I'm going to have a nervous breakdown." He understood the words that were coming out of my mouth and the shopping moratorium began.

Greg took a turn digesting manuals and I found something in my nightly reading that retracted my claws.

Ether 2:5-6

5 And it came to pass that the Lord commanded them that they should go forth into the wilderness (the fringe of Draper), yea, into that quarter where there never had man been (a vacant lot, no existing home). And it came to pass that the Lord did go before them...and gave directions whither they should travel (paved the way, controlled the calendar, caused us to move at exactly the right time for all parties involved).

6 And it came to pass that they did travel in the wilderness (we left a life we loved, drove up a mountain, and plunked our things down in unfamiliar territory)...being directed continually by the hand of the Lord (reminder reminder reminder).

I needed the reminder. Oh, that Book of Mormon is more than magic. How does the verse I need always show up when I need it, no matter where I'm at in life or the book itself? This is the scriptural equivalent of IF THE LORD BROUGHT YOU TO IT, HE WILL BRING YOU THROUGH IT. Everything has changed, but one thing is the same: God is still my guide and He is unchanging, constant, and perfect. Change is how the Lord brings about his purposes. Change isn't a wrench in the plans; change IS the plan! German appliances are possibly not the plan.

Brigham Young saw the Salt Lake Valley in vision before he saw it in person. I similarly saw a glimpse of my life here, in this spot where there had never been a plow, a planted seed, or a house. We bought and broke this ground in good faith. I told myself it would take a full year here to reap a harvest, but I believed I'd seen the coming harvests. On Sunday I discovered an early crop, an unexpected taste of smooth-skinned sweetness. I don't have to suffer a year of famine! This is a good place, and I've barely scratched the surface.

 

Speaking of plows, our landscaping is almost done (shout out to my evil twin and only brother, Matt the Landscape Architect Who Went Rogue, for designing a smart and beautiful yard for us) and TODAY they planted all our trees and shrubs. Being a Highly Sensitive Person, I picked symbolic things to plant. Like three weeping white spruce trees planted in a cluster to represent our three kids, who I hope will only grow closer as time goes by. I picked a skinny oak tree strictly because it had a lone acorn hanging on its top branch at the nursery. Acorns get me every time. All the feels of new beginnings, hope, and potential. Greg said he knew the second I saw that acorn we were buying the tree. He told our landscaper, "She's getting that tree. Acorns tie her to her childhood or something." Yes, my happy childhood in Missouri where my sisters and I smashed up rocks and put the dust in tiny acorn cap bowls.

Photo of a book cover given to me by Frenchie. She binds aesthetically pleasing book covers and lined paper into really chic notebooks. She knew I had to have it since "Jesus, Savior, Pilot Me" is one of my favorite hymns. The book is written by Colonel Robert L. Scott and I'm obviously framing the cover once my notebook is used up. Basically everything in my house is from a dear friend.