Time to Write

Evan is finishing up his Faith in God award. He's got the Articles of Faith memorized; he's finished all of his goals. He's only got one things left to do: write his testimony!

And it's got me thinking . . . . and asking myself a question.

When was the last time you wrote down your testimony?

Until recently, my answer would have been, "Ummm, well. . . . maybe I wrote something when I did my Personal Progress in YW?"

And yet I love reading the personal testimonies of my family members. The few I have are real treasures. Maybe it's time to re-read a few of those testimonies, or even better--write one!

Why read?

Why read the scriptures to the kids? They don't really understand and they're not listening anyway!

“Some may think that the language of the scriptures is too difficult for children, but … [w]e need to remember that the Lord has given children faculties for learning language even greater than those of adults."

"The scriptures can be a complete education, as has been shown by those in the past who truly educated themselves from the scriptures when they had no other education. But all of us can get something if we will be read the scriptures. And, indeed, by reading the scriptures thoroughly, we can get a better education than we can in any other way."

Why do I have to read my kids the same books over and over? It's driving me crazy!

“It is good for children to hear their favorite passages of scripture, and their other favorite stories, too, over and over. We should not bring up our children to respond to the exciting, the thrilling. They are a titillation of the nerves. To be moved is one thing; to be excited or titillated, a very different thing. If we bring up our children always to be wanting something new, they will have to have a stronger [and stronger] stimulus each time until they finally [burst]. But if we inure our children to stability, to repetition, to normal life, then they will live decent lives”

Questions by Melanie

Answers by Arthur Henry King who would have turned 100 years old today. He's one of my heroes and he wrote this awesome book.

Three More Letters

This time the letters are:

T A O

Don't worry. I'm not going to launch into an explanation of Chinese philosophy, although I did enjoy that East Asian Religion class I took in college.

For John's birthday, he invited our extended family to see "some Japanese taiko drummers". The group was called "TAO". We all went because it was his birthday and as a former missionary in Japan, we know he loves all things Japanese.

But really, how exciting could Japanese drummers be?

We were expecting something like this:

Instead, we got rock stars on a world tour:

Watching this wild, explosive performance was amazing.
It definitely made you want to go work out.

Who knew that TAO could be so cool?

Apparently John did.
Happy Birthday my love!

Three Letters

My Dad taught me to read the summer before I started kindergarten. He made me flashcards with three letter words: bat, cat, sat, mat, hat or pan, ran, can. Then on to "mom", "dad" and even "the". That one was harder because you couldn't sound it out! Reading those three letter words brought a lot of excitement to my Dad and me.

Tuesday, February 16th was John's birthday--an exciting day in itself. But it was made even more exciting because of three letters.

I got a call from Aaron that afternoon while John and I were driving home. Aaron is a quiet, easy-going type of guy. He doesn't get worked up over anything. Thank goodness for caller id, because I'm not sure I would have recognized the jubilant voice on the phone.

"Mom!!!!" he yelled, "I got into BYU!!"

"Could you repeat that?" I asked, quickly turning on the speaker so that John could hear.

With an even louder voice he hollered, "I said, I GOT INTO BYU PROVO!!!!!!"

We gave him our quick congratulations before he had to go. He needed to call and text his friends of course, not to mention updating his Facebook status. But we got the first call!

Those three letters, B-Y-U really made our day. John said it was his favorite birthday present.


He starts school in June, so I've only got my boy at home for four more months. Sniff.

Evan on the other hand is already hard at work on plans for how to reorganize his very OWN room!

Timing is Everything!

I took a break from blogging because it was the right thing to do. I got that message loud and clear.

But lately, I've sensed that my blogging hiatus was coming to an end. I've been waiting for the right time. Today is the right time to begin again. I love new beginnings . . .

• starting the first page of a brand new book
• opening a well-loved book to read one more time
• a newborn baby
• springtime
• forgiveness
• sunrise
• starting a project
• a fresh, clean calendar for the new year
• resurrection
• waiting for the curtain to open
• the first note of a beautiful song
• opening exercises in Primary
• Sunbeams
• getting out the Christmas tree
• walking or hiking in the early morning
• the quiet of waking up before anyone else
• repentance
• opening a card from a friend
• freshly brushed teeth
• getting my hair cut
• a pedicure
• a new school year
  
• birthdays
  
• a new idea or epiphany

Welcome back to Happy Hartz! What's your favorite new beginning?

From Poetry to Peace

If you read the poems in my last post, you probably gathered that I've been on a quest for peace. I've searched in all the places I usually find peace: in the scriptures, at the temple, through chocolate and in many books. But peace has still eluded me. Finally I remembered some wise counsel given by our Stake Presidency a few years ago. They shared six daily actions to find peace.

6 P's of Personal Peace

1. Prayer - meaningful pleading prayer
2. Page - at least a page of scripture study
3. Ponder - reflection on the atonement and blessings
4. Praise - genuine expression of appreciation
5. Play - take time to enjoy life, non-persuasive family fun
6. Purity - fill your mind with edifying thoughts and music

Pretty good advice, don't you think?

As I looked over this list, I realized that I actually was doing most of these on a daily basis. I could pat myself on the back, except that I STILL wasn't finding peace.

So I decided to step things up. I started a new Book of Mormon reading plan that's been pretty challenging for me. I highly recommend it if you need a spiritual boost!

I also realized that "Play" is my weakest area. But how was I going to find more time to play?? I couldn't come up with a solution, but fortunately Heavenly Father did! My next post will be all about play.


In the meantime I'd love to hear what brings you peace!

Emily Understands

Yes, I know I haven't posted in WAAAAY too long.

What's my excuse? Well I won't go into details, but let's just say my friend Emily understands just how I've been feeling. In fact she understands so well that she wrote about it. I think she says it better than I can!

Here's what she has to say about peace, or more specifically the search for peace:

I many times thought Peace had come

When Peace was far away—

As Wrecked Men— deem they sight the Land—

At Centre of the Sea—

And struggle slacker— but to prove

As hopelessly as I—

How many the fictitious Shores—

Before the Harbor lie—

Emily really understands suffering and knowing that you should feel better because of the Savior, but still you're not quiet there--not quite over it.

After great pain a formal feeling comes--
The nerves sit ceremonious like tombs;
The stiff Heart questions--was it He that bore?
And yesterday--or centuries before?

The feet, mechanical, go round
A wooden way
Of ground, or air, or ought,
Regardless grown,
A quartz contentment, like a stone.

This is the hour of lead
Remembered if outlived,
As freezing persons recollect the snow--
First chill, then stupor, then the letting go.

And just so you know I haven't gone off the deep end with depression, Emily also understands the hope I am feeling and how gently it came into my heart to rest.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul
And sings the tune--without the words
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

Emily Dickinson