Our school district has a new middle school opening in the fall. While it is nowhere close to us, the trickle-down effect means that when boundary changes were determined last year, it was determined that starting in the fall we will be in the boundaries for a different middle school. This is a decision that has been universally unpopular in our neighborhood. Instead of going to the middle school that is one mile from our house and hence within walking distance, the kids will now go to a school three miles away. At least the district has conceded the fact that there is no safe walking route from here to there and provided a bus, but still, we are not alone in loathing this decision.
What that means for our family is that next school year, Matthew would be required to change middle schools. He is thriving at our current school and Kevin, Matthew and I all agreed that staying would be the best thing for him. But the hurdle has been the special permit process. In these situations, there are a lot of kids who want to stay and so the district holds a lottery to determine who is issued a special permit and who is out of luck and must attend their assigned school. When we got the results of the lottery earlier this month, Matthew was #67 on the waiting list. That meant that all available slots were filled and a whole bunch of kids would have to decide to go elsewhere before Matthew came to the top of the list. Needless to say, it was pretty discouraging.
At that point, we started thinking about who might be able to help us get that elusive special permit. Matthew had the jazz band teacher mention that he would have to see what he could do the help Matthew stay and I reached out to the regular band teacher who is amazing (and one of the reasons we want him to stay) to see if she had any pull. And throughout, we began gathering info to get him registered at the different school since registration is happening right now and while we were still hoping for that elusive permit, we were all realistic enough to know that it might not happen.
Throughout this entire process, I’ve been praying that the Lord would provide a way for Matthew to stay where he is. In addition to all the academic and musical reasons he is thriving, all his friends from elementary school will stay at our current middle school. Of the kids he has been in school with since second grade, those in our ward are the only ones who will be required to change schools. Since Matthew doesn’t have any close friends in the ward, that would be a bitter pill to swallow. And it’s an emotionally difficult situation in which to find yourself. I know. When I went to junior high, the only kids from my elementary school who went to the same school as I did were those in my ward. Luckily for me, I consider those girls some of my best friends ever, but even with that, it was a very difficult transition. It was so hard that I have tried to do everything I can to prevent my kids from having the same experience. So there have been many sincere, heartfelt prayers, months’ worth of prayers. And I know that there have been other family members praying as well.
This afternoon I received an email stating that Matthew’s lottery status had changed. Afraid to hope, I thought that maybe he had moved up the list a bit. What I read when I opened the email led to an audible cheer and then immediate tears. It was a notification that Matthew had been offered a seat at his school. The elusive special permit had been granted! I immediately sent the news to Matthew, who was on a field trip to the elementary school to teach the 6th graders how cool band is, and within 3o seconds, he was out in the hall calling me. It was a good day, such a good day!
I know that my prayers were heard. I also know that if the Lord had wanted Matthew to go to the other school, he would have done so and we all would have eventually reconciled ourselves to the fact. But I’m so enormously grateful for this boon, this blessing, this answer to a prayer that came from the bottom of my mama heart.
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label prayer. Show all posts
Thursday, January 23, 2020
Friday, November 22, 2019
Safety
There are many common elements in prayers, ones that everyone seems to say without thinking about them. One of those is safety. It came up in a lesson in church once. Someone made a comment about how everyone always asks that we will get home from church safely and really, what was going to happen between the church and your house one block away? We are taught not to pray with rote, repetitious phrases, but I often find myself praying for the same blessings in heartfelt, sincere ways. Safety is one of those. In my mind, I disagreed with that comment made in church because many things can, and do, go wrong in just such a short distance. In my life, I have had multiple occasions where I needed, and was blessed with, safety in the course of my normal travels, whether short or long.
When I was freshman at BYU, I was living with my Aunt Geneal and Uncle Deverl in Orem. I was driving a little old Honda and it was a persnickety thing. When it decided to act up, it went home so my parents could get it fixed and I generally drove my mom’s station wagon on those weeks. The brakes on the station wagon were a lot touchier than those on the Honda, so try as I might, I always ended up jerking to a halt rather than slowing down nicely. I happened to be driving that station wagon one day in mid-winter when things were extremely icy, and the roads were treacherous. At that point in time, BYU owned twenty snowplows, but Provo city only owned three. That meant the campus roads were kept pretty snow free, but off campus was another story. One morning I was headed to campus. I was driving cautiously, knowing that I was on a stretch of road that was always particularly icy. As I traveled down the road, I felt the car begin to slide. I slowly depressed the breaks, but since the brakes were super touchy and there was no such thing as antilock brakes in those days, the brakes locked and suddenly I was sliding down the road. The car turned completely around as I slid and in the rearview mirror, I could see that I was headed directly for a UPS truck that was parked by the side of the road. I knew things were completely out of my control at that point, so I just sat there and waited for the impact. But the impact never came. One second I was sliding, and the next, the car had stopped. When I say stopped, I don’t mean it slowed down and gradually came to a stop. I mean that one second I was sliding and the next the car was at a complete standstill. There was literally only about a foot between me and that UPS truck. With my heart pounding, I realized that my morning prayer for safety had been answered. I have no doubt in my mind that without a little divine help, I would have hit that truck.
A few years later, the Honda was long gone, and I was driving a dependable Subaru wagon. Its only caveats were its tendency to overheat in very hot weather and the fact that it was an oil guzzler. Other than that, it was a great vehicle. One Sunday evening, I was headed back to my apartment after eating dinner at my parents’ house. Just as I was approaching the point of the mountain, my car lost power and I quickly steered to the shoulder where the car stopped and would not start again. It was just getting dark, I was wearing a black dress, and I was quite a long way from both the exit behind me and the one in front. So I sat in my car, said a prayer for safety, and then got out and started walking. I had only gone about a car’s length when another car pulled over. Now in general, that’s not a great situation to be in, right? It’s getting dark, a young girl is alone on the freeway, a stranger sees her and pulls over. Sounds like a great situation for a kidnapping or something, right? But despite all my knowledge about how not to become a victim of a heinous crime, I knew absolutely without a doubt that I could trust the people in that car and so I got in. The Spirit told me I could trust them, and I believed. Back in those days, cell phones were a rarity and the ones that did exist were the size, shape and weight of a brick. What are the odds that the couple who pulled over would have one? And that the man would be a BYU employee? And that despite their hard rule never to pick up strangers by the side of the road, when they saw me, they knew that they were supposed to stop and help me? When you factor in the Lord’s tender mercies, it all makes sense. They called my dad and he must have broken every speed limit between home and my location because he made it there in record time. After conversing with my helpers, my Dad felt safe letting them give me a ride back to Provo. Seriously. Once again, a prayer for safety had been answered.
About a year after we moved to our current home, I was still attending book club in my old ward. I had good friends there and didn’t really feel connected in our new ward yet, so I looked forward to that once a month gathering with my cronies. On one book club day, I spent the entire day feeling like I should not go to book club that night. I didn’t know why because I’d read the book and was really looking forward to going. It just didn’t seem to make sense. I argued with that feeling all day, rationalizing that I really wanted to go and just couldn’t see any reason not to. But by the time dinner rolled around, I finally conceded the battle and decided to stay home. By bedtime, I actually found myself feeling very glad I had not gone, although I still didn’t know why. The next day, I saw on the news that there had been one particular stretch of road that had become dangerously coated with black ice in spite of the clear weather and dry roads surrounding it. In between 9 p.m. and midnight, there were six car crashes in that one spot. On book club nights, I would drive that exact stretch of road between 9 and 10 p.m. Although I have no way of knowing exactly what would have happened had I gone to book club, I know for a fact that I would have been in a dangerous situation at exactly the wrong time. I can’t express how humbled and grateful I was that the Lord would keep me safe, even when I tried to deny the impression I received.
We had another one of those experiences yesterday. This time it was Nathan’s experience, but it supports my own experiences concerning praying for safety and having a prayer answered. Although he often lingers after school, yesterday Nathan was headed straight home so he would have time to get some homework done before his call time for the school musical. As he hit the foyer of the high school on his way to the parking lot, he suddenly had a thought that he needed to go back to the choir room. He said it was a strange thought because he knew he didn’t need to go there, but he listened and went anyway. Before he ever got back to the choir room, his phone rang, and a friend told him that his car had been hit in the school parking lot. The accident ended up damaging six cars, Nathan’s being one of four parked cars involved. Three cars were totaled and while our little Aveo ended up having only bumper damage, the impact was hard enough that it was moved completely out of its parking space. As Nathan looked at the timeline of the accident, his return to the choir room and the phone call, he realized that if he had not gone back, he would have been in the parking lot, walking to or getting into his car at the time it was hit. And had he been in the vicinity but not yet in the car, he most definitely would have been in harm’s way. He believes, and I concur, that he was the recipient of some divine inspiration.
With all these experiences resonating in my heart and mind, if I don’t pray for the safety of my family and myself every day, I spend the day weighed down by an impending sense of doom. And so I pray for the same thing every single day, but I do it with sincerity and the knowledge that the Lord has heard my prayers and blessed me and my family on multiple locations. And I have an immense sense of gratitude for those occasions when my prayers have been answered and I have seen his hand in my life. I know that those prayers will not change the outcome should the Lord deem otherwise, but I trust him. I know that he hears me, and I know that he answers. And I know that my repetitions are not vain, but sincere.
When I was freshman at BYU, I was living with my Aunt Geneal and Uncle Deverl in Orem. I was driving a little old Honda and it was a persnickety thing. When it decided to act up, it went home so my parents could get it fixed and I generally drove my mom’s station wagon on those weeks. The brakes on the station wagon were a lot touchier than those on the Honda, so try as I might, I always ended up jerking to a halt rather than slowing down nicely. I happened to be driving that station wagon one day in mid-winter when things were extremely icy, and the roads were treacherous. At that point in time, BYU owned twenty snowplows, but Provo city only owned three. That meant the campus roads were kept pretty snow free, but off campus was another story. One morning I was headed to campus. I was driving cautiously, knowing that I was on a stretch of road that was always particularly icy. As I traveled down the road, I felt the car begin to slide. I slowly depressed the breaks, but since the brakes were super touchy and there was no such thing as antilock brakes in those days, the brakes locked and suddenly I was sliding down the road. The car turned completely around as I slid and in the rearview mirror, I could see that I was headed directly for a UPS truck that was parked by the side of the road. I knew things were completely out of my control at that point, so I just sat there and waited for the impact. But the impact never came. One second I was sliding, and the next, the car had stopped. When I say stopped, I don’t mean it slowed down and gradually came to a stop. I mean that one second I was sliding and the next the car was at a complete standstill. There was literally only about a foot between me and that UPS truck. With my heart pounding, I realized that my morning prayer for safety had been answered. I have no doubt in my mind that without a little divine help, I would have hit that truck.
A few years later, the Honda was long gone, and I was driving a dependable Subaru wagon. Its only caveats were its tendency to overheat in very hot weather and the fact that it was an oil guzzler. Other than that, it was a great vehicle. One Sunday evening, I was headed back to my apartment after eating dinner at my parents’ house. Just as I was approaching the point of the mountain, my car lost power and I quickly steered to the shoulder where the car stopped and would not start again. It was just getting dark, I was wearing a black dress, and I was quite a long way from both the exit behind me and the one in front. So I sat in my car, said a prayer for safety, and then got out and started walking. I had only gone about a car’s length when another car pulled over. Now in general, that’s not a great situation to be in, right? It’s getting dark, a young girl is alone on the freeway, a stranger sees her and pulls over. Sounds like a great situation for a kidnapping or something, right? But despite all my knowledge about how not to become a victim of a heinous crime, I knew absolutely without a doubt that I could trust the people in that car and so I got in. The Spirit told me I could trust them, and I believed. Back in those days, cell phones were a rarity and the ones that did exist were the size, shape and weight of a brick. What are the odds that the couple who pulled over would have one? And that the man would be a BYU employee? And that despite their hard rule never to pick up strangers by the side of the road, when they saw me, they knew that they were supposed to stop and help me? When you factor in the Lord’s tender mercies, it all makes sense. They called my dad and he must have broken every speed limit between home and my location because he made it there in record time. After conversing with my helpers, my Dad felt safe letting them give me a ride back to Provo. Seriously. Once again, a prayer for safety had been answered.
About a year after we moved to our current home, I was still attending book club in my old ward. I had good friends there and didn’t really feel connected in our new ward yet, so I looked forward to that once a month gathering with my cronies. On one book club day, I spent the entire day feeling like I should not go to book club that night. I didn’t know why because I’d read the book and was really looking forward to going. It just didn’t seem to make sense. I argued with that feeling all day, rationalizing that I really wanted to go and just couldn’t see any reason not to. But by the time dinner rolled around, I finally conceded the battle and decided to stay home. By bedtime, I actually found myself feeling very glad I had not gone, although I still didn’t know why. The next day, I saw on the news that there had been one particular stretch of road that had become dangerously coated with black ice in spite of the clear weather and dry roads surrounding it. In between 9 p.m. and midnight, there were six car crashes in that one spot. On book club nights, I would drive that exact stretch of road between 9 and 10 p.m. Although I have no way of knowing exactly what would have happened had I gone to book club, I know for a fact that I would have been in a dangerous situation at exactly the wrong time. I can’t express how humbled and grateful I was that the Lord would keep me safe, even when I tried to deny the impression I received.
We had another one of those experiences yesterday. This time it was Nathan’s experience, but it supports my own experiences concerning praying for safety and having a prayer answered. Although he often lingers after school, yesterday Nathan was headed straight home so he would have time to get some homework done before his call time for the school musical. As he hit the foyer of the high school on his way to the parking lot, he suddenly had a thought that he needed to go back to the choir room. He said it was a strange thought because he knew he didn’t need to go there, but he listened and went anyway. Before he ever got back to the choir room, his phone rang, and a friend told him that his car had been hit in the school parking lot. The accident ended up damaging six cars, Nathan’s being one of four parked cars involved. Three cars were totaled and while our little Aveo ended up having only bumper damage, the impact was hard enough that it was moved completely out of its parking space. As Nathan looked at the timeline of the accident, his return to the choir room and the phone call, he realized that if he had not gone back, he would have been in the parking lot, walking to or getting into his car at the time it was hit. And had he been in the vicinity but not yet in the car, he most definitely would have been in harm’s way. He believes, and I concur, that he was the recipient of some divine inspiration.
With all these experiences resonating in my heart and mind, if I don’t pray for the safety of my family and myself every day, I spend the day weighed down by an impending sense of doom. And so I pray for the same thing every single day, but I do it with sincerity and the knowledge that the Lord has heard my prayers and blessed me and my family on multiple locations. And I have an immense sense of gratitude for those occasions when my prayers have been answered and I have seen his hand in my life. I know that those prayers will not change the outcome should the Lord deem otherwise, but I trust him. I know that he hears me, and I know that he answers. And I know that my repetitions are not vain, but sincere.
Wednesday, July 17, 2019
Prayer and Priorities
Scout camp for the Deacons is this week. Earlier this year, we talked to Matthew about going, knowing that a weeklong camp has some definite challenges for a food allergy kid, and he decided he wanted to go. Kevin planned to go with him for the first half of the week to help him get everything established. Once that was decided, our brains went on to other things and because our current deacon advisor is not much inclined to plan in advance, two weeks ago we got the reminder about camp including the medical forms, etc. that needed to be done before camp. That kind of sent us into a frenzy and we madly completed the paperwork, planned a menu, made a shopping list and purchased everything he would need. Saturday was the prep for camp day and neither Kevin nor Matthew could really get moving on getting anything ready. As they talked about how reluctant they both felt where camping prep was concerned, they ended up on their knees asking whether Matthew was supposed to go to camp. The answer they both got was no. Matthew was not supposed to go.
I think we all felt more at ease once that decision was made. Kevin realized that this is something Matthew has never done and while he knows how to cook and stay safe at home, food prep while camping is an entirely different beast, one that he’s never done. We think he needs some training on how to do that before we drop him off in the wilderness and tell him to stay safe.
Matthew felt fine about the whole thing except for the temple trip the deacons had planned for this evening. Matthew has always been very temple focused. He wants to be there and has wanted to be there since long before he was old enough to go. He has also always been interested in visiting a variety of different temples. So not being able to go to the Payson Temple was a blow. After further discussion, it was decided that Kevin would drive Matthew down for the temple trip portion of the camp. Matthew was very happy about that.
Matthew has been such a great example of making the temple a priority in our lives. He goes as often as he can get there (which is just about as often as he can convince one of his brothers to let him go with them on one of their trips) and is always bummed when he can’t go for one reason or another. I know that life gets busy and as he gets older he have more and more responsibilities that he have to juggle, but I hope his love for the temple never wanes and that his enthusiasm will spread to all those around him. I, for one, could learn something about where my priorities should lie from my amazing twelve-year-old.
I think we all felt more at ease once that decision was made. Kevin realized that this is something Matthew has never done and while he knows how to cook and stay safe at home, food prep while camping is an entirely different beast, one that he’s never done. We think he needs some training on how to do that before we drop him off in the wilderness and tell him to stay safe.
Matthew felt fine about the whole thing except for the temple trip the deacons had planned for this evening. Matthew has always been very temple focused. He wants to be there and has wanted to be there since long before he was old enough to go. He has also always been interested in visiting a variety of different temples. So not being able to go to the Payson Temple was a blow. After further discussion, it was decided that Kevin would drive Matthew down for the temple trip portion of the camp. Matthew was very happy about that.
Matthew has been such a great example of making the temple a priority in our lives. He goes as often as he can get there (which is just about as often as he can convince one of his brothers to let him go with them on one of their trips) and is always bummed when he can’t go for one reason or another. I know that life gets busy and as he gets older he have more and more responsibilities that he have to juggle, but I hope his love for the temple never wanes and that his enthusiasm will spread to all those around him. I, for one, could learn something about where my priorities should lie from my amazing twelve-year-old.
Thursday, January 25, 2018
Sisterly Love
When Malia said her prayers tonight, she thanked Heavenly Father for all the awards Matthew has won this week. How sweet is that? 😊
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)