creating meaningful traditions – Page 5 – Welcome to my backyard city homestead

I Will Walk You Thru the Night. . . . . a mother’s promise

Thank goodness, its not over and I still have time to learn. Grandchildren are the great gift of second chances – a chance to make restitution. Whew! And I hold out hope that one day – perhaps by running out of mistakes to make, I will have exhausted the list, and I will finally get it right, and be the kind of mom my kids deserve.

“If God will grant my wish then I will wait for you
beyond the veil, just before you slip through.
As you softly close your eyes I will sing my lullabies to you,
and before you make your way into the light
I will walk you thru the night.”

There were many times as a younger mom when I knew I had made a mistake.

Sometimes I would be so ashamed – I wanted so much to be a ‘good mom’. I wanted to raise my children to the Lord, and have them be well rounded and strong and healthy in every way. I wanted them to enter their youth and adulthood prepared for all that this telestial world could throw at them. But alas, I was so flawed as a mother – that sometimes I realized I was failing miserably at being the mom they deserved.

Sometimes I would try to make it right – and I’d sit on my oldest son’s bed at night and tell him “I know you didn’t mean to ….. I know you’ve never been a little boy before and you’re just learning how, and that you’re doing your best. I never have been a mommy before either, and I’m just learning how, and sometimes I make mistakes too. But I’m trying to get better.” Sometimes I would make deals with him, and always I would promise to be better at it tomorrow. But I don’t know that I always was. More likely, I just discovered a new mistake to make. I was always great at making discoveries. 🙂
image by Brian Kershisnik
One day when he was a teenager and we were having yet another one of our ‘disagreements‘, he sarcastically asked “Is this gonna be another one of those times when you come sit on my bed and say you’re sorry?”
Whoah! To say his timing was poor – was to put it mildly. I was after all, still the flawed Mother, and I certainly was in no mood to hear that!

“MaaaaayBe.” I retorted “But right now – it doesn’t feel that way!”
I admit it, it wasn’t my finest mothering moment, and I do believe it marked the end of those tender little bedtime talks.
. . . .
So, long story short – we finally made it, and my kids are all grown up. I’d like to say I finally got it right and that all my mistakes are in the past. ….. But sadly – I am painfully aware that I’m still making them. Sheeeesh. I hate to break it to all you moms who are younger than me, but you may never really ‘get it‘. ….. Or maybe YOU will. ….. Thank goodness, I don’t seem to be repeating a lot of the same mistakes. Nooooo, I am inventing new ones as I go. I told you I was good at making discoveries. It is a talent I don’t seem to have lost.

I am comforted by a revelatory experience I had when my oldest was about 7 or 8 years old. It suddenly occurred to me that he was now the age that I was when I began collecting more vivid memories from my childhood, and specifically of my own mom. I realized that the memories my kids were making NOW would be with them their whole lives, and I also realized – with a stark reality check, and a healthy dose of humility, that my mom had done the very best she knew how – just like I was trying to do. And I was filled with compassion for her, and forgiveness – for whatever mistakes she may have made along the way, and for whatever faults she may have had. And I fervently hoped that one day, my kids would realize the same thing, and would also forgive me for all my mistakes in this great circle of life, because one day in their turn, they too would be doing the best they know how to do, and one day to follow, they too would pray for forgiveness for not always getting it right. I hoped they would learn from my mistakes and not make the same ones – that somehow they would be better than me, and that with every generation we could minimize the mistakes in our family, and become better parents and better people. Who knows? Maybe – if we were allowed enough generations before this ol’ world comes to an end, and if we put all of our effort into it, we might even become really good parents.

I came across a quote from May Angelou a few years ago and it is very prominently displayed in my home. “Do the BEST you can until you know better. Then when you know better, DO BETTER.” I don’t beat myself up about things I did. I know I did the best I knew how to do, and there is great comfort in that. But I do know better now, and it is my obligation to act on what I know.

Cherie Call put some of my most tender thoughts as a mom to music (she seems to read my mind sometimes) in this wonderful song WALK YOU THROUGH THE NIGHT on her album GRACE. (Mercy River also sings it on their album COME ALIVE.) Perhaps the words speak for you too. Thank-you Cherie – you speak to my heart.

“I may not be the best at very many things
but I believe I love you perfectly . . . ”

If good mothering could be judged by that attribute alone, then I could be the best mom ever!

“. . . you are bound to have some nightmares
so am I
but you can count on me to hold you
when you cry . . . .
I can’t promise that I’ll always get it right,
but I will walk you thru the night.”

click HERE to find out more about Cherie

image by Brian Kershisnik

Cindy Suelzle

Remember When Jesus Gave You a Present and He Said SURPRISE!?

One day whe Luke was three or four years old, he said to me “Remember when Jesus came to our house Mom?”
hmmmm, I was a just a little confused …. “Nooo Luke. I don’t remember that.”
“Mom! He came. Remember?”
I racked my brain trying to recall some bearded man who had recently come to visit us. But couldn’t. “uh, no Luke. I am sorrry. I don’t remember.”
“Mom! You were there!” Had Brother Blommaert come to visit? He had a beard.
“Mom! He ringed the doorbell!” Had Brother Blommaert dropped something off recently? When I wasn’t home perhaps?
“And he gave you a present.”
…. oh my – this was getting very mysterious. “Jesus gave ME a present Luke?” Brother Blommaert MUST have been by.
“Yes! And the present was all wrapped up in a blanket.”

Feeling very sorry to disappoint him, but not recalling any recent event that might fit into the description he was giving me, I admitted defeat. “No Luke. I am sorry. But I cannot remember when Jesus came to our door and gave me a present.”
“MOM! And he said SURPRISE! and when you opened it up, it was ME!”
The light went on.
“Oh Yes! I certainly do remember when Jesus gave me a wonderful surprise, and you’re right, it WAS you. Best surprise ever. …… But Luke, Jesus didn’t actually ring the doorbell.”

Luke couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t heard the wonderful story of how he came to our family. “A long time ago, there was just Mommy and Daddy, and Jacob, and Sarah, and Zack and Joseph. But no Luke. We thought everybody in our family was home. But you weren’t with us yet. You were still living in heaven. You were waiting for your turn to come to us, but we didn’t know that because it was a surprise. And we were just going about doing our stuff. And you were saying “Wait! Wait for me.” but we couldn’t hear you. We were having a picnic, and riding our bikes, and eating dinner and reading stories and you were saying “Hey! Wait for me!” And then one day, Heavenly Father said “its time to go join your family” and you were so happy. And Heavenly Father told us “Surprise!” and He gave you to us. And we were so surprised! And so so so happy.”

Well that boy is almost thirty years old. And just about three decades ago Heavenly Father really did tell us “Surprise!”, and a few months later, Luke joined our happy family, completing that generation of it. April 7 1990. A Happy Day for all of us. Luke gave Jacob the chance to re-find his tender-big-brother-side, Sarah the chance to practice being a mommy on her own real-live doll. He gave Zack and Joseph a little brother to play with and to take care of. And he gave Dan and I another chance to put into practice all the things we learned from the other kids. Another chance to get it right. Baby Luke was a delight to us all. Never was there a little boy more loved and cared for, and cuddled and read to. He was always in someone’s arms. Sitting in church became a political problem …. he was three years old and everyone still wanted to hold him. I am amazed he ever learned to sit on his own, let alone walk on his own.

Why the story? Because at one point, before 1990 we thought we were finished having children. The doctors had strongly advised that my fourth caesarian should be my last, and after months of confusion, and praying for guidance about such an important decision, we decided at length to follow the doctor’s counsel and leave the details up to the Lord. We never had that conclusive feeling that our family was finished, but we knew with God all things are possible. We had good examples of adoption in our extended families. We had fostered briefly. We had provided a home for two years for the teenaged child of a friend. We knew there were numerous ways a child could join a family. It didn’t need to be traditional. We figured that if we were open and receptive, then one day, when the time was right, Heavenly Father would find a use for these parents who still had years to give. We trusted that one day – we might be surprised, and that if we would just be watchful, and receptive to the promptings, that we would respond appropriately when the time came, and the Lord might be able to work through us. It never occured to us that a child could come to us through the normal means after we had taken measures to ensure I didn’t get pregnant again. We didn’t think that was possible. Well, guess what? It is. With God – ALL things are possible. He knows us. He knows our hearts. He knows what is best for us. And He was patient with our decision five years before – knowing afterall, that He was in control. “You do the best you can until you know Better.” right?

My fear was that one day Luke might hear the word ‘surprise‘ from another source,and another perspective. All of our friends and family knew the miracle by which he came to us. I was afraid that at some point, he might overhear a portion of his story out of context, and he might deduce that ‘surprise’ meant something else. I wanted him to always know he was important, and loved and welcomed to our family with open arms and open hearts. I wanted to make sure that he never had a reason to doubt that, and I concluded that the only way I could ensure he never thought differently was if he heard it all from ME first. So from before the time he could talk, he heard his story. About how we didn’t know he was going to come to our family, but we were so happy when we found out. I told him in a way that I thought he could absorb. Funny how kids fit truth into their own reality. They sort it out in the way that they see the world. In the way that makes sense to them. I was okay with that. I knew that as he grew and his understanding developed, he would sort out the details. The only thing that was critically important was that he always feel loved.

Somewhere along the line, Luke grew up. And now he has two babies of his own. Very wanted and welcomed and loved babies that he shares with his lovely wife Pam, and with the rest of us. Cause that’s what families do. But he’s still my baby. And I still refer to him as my baby. And sometimes the grandchildren feel the need to object. “Uncle Luke isn’t a baby!” they say.
I tell them “oh yes he is. Don’t ever fool yourselves. Uncle Luke will always be our baby. And you know what? He likes being the baby. Don’t you Uncle Luke?”

“Yup.” (that’s how he talks)

And the world continues to turn. And babies grow up. And mom’s get older too. But some things should never change.

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

Would I know Him?

I have often wondered what it might have been like to live at the time of the Saviour, and to have been in His presence. I also wondered if I would have been among those who recognized Him for who and what he was. When describing the world He lived in, Robert Matthews spoke of
“the spiritually barren and parched condition of a people led by proud and insistent Pharisees, [wealthy] and powerful Sadducees, exclusive rabbis and learned scribes, . . .” (Robert Matthews pg 84, BEHOLD THE MESSIAH)(1)

There were many who were in the presence of Christ while He lived on the earth, without recognizing Him. He simply wasn’t what they expected him to be. In John we read that “He was in the world and the world was made by Him and the world knew Him not. He came unto his own and his own received him not.” (John 1:10,11)

John the Baptist taught a group of Jewish leaders that the Messiah was not only already on the earth – but living and walking among them, and yet they had not recognized him. So it is fair and reasonable to wonder if we might be any different. And yet. . . . . . . There were those who DID recognize Him. They testified “we have found Him! We have found the Messiah!”

Andrew, Simon, Philip, and Nathanael were among the first who declared that.
Simeon at the temple recognized him when he was only an infant.
Anna at the temple recognized the baby in Mary’s arms.
Elizabeth recognized him before he was born.
The magi who travelled from the east knew who He was when they found him.
The shepherds who were the very first to visit him knew who he was.

All of these people had two things in common – * THEY were SEEKING Him. They were familiar with the scriptures which spoke of Him, they knew the signs to watch for, they knew the time was at hand. And. They. Sought Him.

There is a difference between knowing the Saviour and knowing about him. We must first learn about Him it is true, and we can do that by reading or listening, but in order to KNOW him, *we must want to know him. *We must actively SEEK to know him. *We must obey his commandments. *And we must be given a spiritual witness from the Holy Ghost. Jesus Christ may only be known through Revelation.

If we had lived in Jerusalem and walked the same streets as did the Saviour, and saw him in the mortal flesh we would not have known that He was the Messiah unless the Holy spirit whispered it to our spirit. The same crucial witness that we require was required of them too. That witness of course, is personal revelation. (2)

So merely being in His presence does not mean FEELING THAT ONE IS IN THE PRESENCE OF CHRIST and vice versa – FEELING the presence of Christ, does not have to mean BEING in His physical presence. In fact, they couldn’t be more exclusive and independent.

“When I Sang” – Cherie Call – open this link to listen to the music (3)
image: You are Mine by Liz Lemon

There are days when I can truly say “I have found the Messiah!” – and my joy is so full that I literally cannot contain it. It leaks out my eyes. On those days there is nothing I’d rather do than be in His service and feel His arms around me, and I want to try my best to be a “window to His love”(4). Then there are other days when life gets busy and I lose myself in the temporal demands of my day, and although I don’t lose my way, I may not feel that same wonderful closeness that I yearn for.

In the Book of Mormon, the prophet Lehi shares a dream. In it he was led to a “Tree whose fruit was desirable to make one happy.” And he “did go forth and partook of the fruit thereof; and [he] beheld that it was most sweet, above all that [he] had ever before tasted. Yea, and [he] beheld that the fruit was white, to exceed all the whiteness that [he] had ever seen. And as [he] partook of the fruit thereof, it filled [his] soul with exceedingly great joy; wherefore [he] began to be desirous that [his] family should partake of it also, for [he] knew that it was desirable above all other fruit.” (1N 8:10-12)

We know from Nephi that the tree represented the love of God. Everyone has the love of God, because God loves us all. But not all of us can FEEL the love of God. What is the difference? Action. Our action. Lehi partook of the fruit of the tree – the fruit of the love of God. What is the fruit of the love of God? Apostle David Bednar says that the “fruit is a symbol for the blessings of the Atonement.“(5) And what is the Atonement? It is the sacrifice Jesus Christ made to help us overcome sin, adversity, and death. He paid the price for our sins, took upon Himself death and was resurrected. So as Lehi PARTOOK of the fruit of the tree, so must we PARTAKE OF THE BLESSINGS OF THE ATONEMENT.

David Bednar said “partaking of fruit of the tree represents the receiving of ordinances and covenants whereby the Atonement can become fully efficacious in our lives.” (4) The love of God is there. Just like the tree. You don’t have to do anything to make it real. It is what it is. Whether you know its there, whether you care if its there – makes no difference. It IS there. And the fruit – it is there too. But in order to benefit from the fruit, in order to taste it and to be nourished by it – one must partake of it. One must EAT it. Just like Lehi did.

Like many of you, I have felt His spirit. I have partaken of the blessings of the Atonement, received the ordinances and covenants that make the Atonement efficacious in my life – and it IS like the fruit Lehi described. He said that it “was desirable to make one happy, . . . . .” and that it “filled [his] soul with exceeding great joy”. When one feels that kind of joy, one really does think immediately of those we love. Like Lehi, we begin to “be desirous that our family should partake also“.

Lehi’s Vision of the Tree of Life by Robin Luch (6)

That must be what it feels like to be in the presence of Christ. I think that – because there is nothing else quite like it. Lehi described it as being more sweet than anything he had ever before tasted, with a whiteness that exceeded anything he had ever before seen, and that it was desirable above all else. Those are very vague attempts at description. It is as if it defies description. As if words just cannot convey. There are times when what we feel simply cannot be put into words. Those are the times, that feelings leak out of our eyes. At those times, we can say “ahhhhh, this is what I have heard about. No wonder they couldn’t describe it.”

It is my hope that we might all feel that feeling at some point. I absolutely know that we can. If we DESIRE to know Him. If we SEEK to know Him. And if we willingly PARTAKE of the fruit of His love.

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

footnotes

quote from Robert Matthews, pg 8 BEHOLD THE MESSIAH
also from Roberta Matthews BEHOLD THE MESSIAH
Cherie Call – song WHEN I SANG
Julie de Azevedo – song WINDOW TO HIS LOVE
Elder David A. Bednar of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles, Lehi’s Dream: Holding Fast to the Rod
Lehi’s Vision of the Tree of Life , on stained glass by Robin Luch

the importance of setting goals

I love the quote by Bill Copeland “the trouble with not having a goal is that you can spend your life running up and down the field and never score“. This is a perfect visual image for me and I think it speaks volumes. Especially, as it seems, though goal setting is encouraged on every corner, in every area of life – educational goals, workplace or business goals, family and household goals, goals in gospel living – it has almost become too ‘common’ a term. And because of that, many of us miss the point. So what is the point of playing the game if all you do is run up and down the field kicking the ball? Eternal ‘practice‘? For what? Goal setting is MORE than a worthwhile endeavour, it is absolutely necessary to becoming the person we would like to become.

The truth is, without goals we will spend our lives either spinning our wheels in one spot, or aimlessly adrift being influenced by every wind. The key is to set attainable goals that are meaningful.

Whether they are long term all encompassing goals like getting out of debt, short term easier goals like getting on the treadmill five times a week, or even eternal goals of living with our families forever, the act of setting goals propels us forward. A ship leaving the harbour with no goal or destination? Preposterous. Throwing a dart without a target? For what purpose? And yet, we are no different when we allow ourselves to go through the whole day, a whole week, month or year without purpose, without visualization of a hoped for destination. A GOAL. Whatever talent and abilities we might possess, whatever potential is ours – without focus and directed energy, they will never amount to anything.

I like to look at the idea of LEGACY. Defined, legacy is anything “handed down” (be it good or bad), but for my purpose here, I am speaking specifically about what we as a person are remembered for after we’re gone. Its humbling to acknowledge that we have a lot of control over the legacy we leave behind. For the most part, what it will be is our choice. Imagine that. We create a good legacy through effort and energy, or we let our legacy default into meaningless. Again our choice. So ask yourself these three questions:
1) Where do you want to be in a year? five years? twenty years?
2) What is important to you?
3) What do you want to be remembered for? What legacy do you want to leave behind?

Whether we realize it or not – whether we actually use the words “goal setting” or not, most of us DO set goals for ourselves. I have some suggestions for ways we can make them more meaningful, and have a more empowering influence in our lives.

1. Goals give us Direction and propel us forward

Setting a goal provides a destination to work toward. When you set a goal you naturally direct your attention toward the first step in achieving it. Focusing on it leads your thoughts in a certain direction, and what you think about becomes behaviour.

2. Goals keep us on the path.

You can not walk a straight line without a fixed point to follow. When you have a goal in mind – a particular destination, you will focus on it, and you will be more inclined to avoid detours that would distract you from reaching it. The more specific your goals are, the more likely your path will be straighter and more direct. For example, it has been a life long goal of mine to eat healthily. Generally I do pretty good, but the goal itself is unspecific. In the last few years, my goal has been to be ‘smarter’ about my choices. Still very unspecific. So recently I committed to avoid sugar for one month. This is specific, and measurable (see point #3), and very relevant to me. A clear and relevant goal sets you on a path and provides incentive to make the sacrifices necessary to achieve it. There are always sacrifices involved in reaching a goal, because the nature of obtaining a desired outcome requires changing established behaviour. And that is never easy. Desirable maybe, but not easy.

3. Goals must be measurable to be of any value

By setting a worthwhile but immeasurable goal of “being a better person” or having a “successful business”, we never really know when or if we achieved it. We need to know where we are right now, and compare it to a fixed destination. Our goal should be “measurable“. A big goal to “get out of debt”, broken into smaller goals of paying off the credit cards, the student loan, the car loan, setting a minimum dollar amount aside for unexpected expenses and to eventually replace the car so you don’t take on another debt, are all manageable, measurable, and as you achieve each step you have reason to celebrate. A big goal of getting in a year’s supply of food storage, broken down into smaller goals of buying for one week ahead, one month ahead, and finally three months ahead, are all steps along the way, and are attainable. And measurable. And worth celebrating. The specificity of my goal to avoid sugar for ONE MONTH made it measurable and therefore attainable. I could see the end of the month from the beginning, the light at the end of the tunnel so to speak. It was a mental exercise that made it easy to track success with every accomplishment. You cannot manage what you cannot measure. And you cannot improve what you cannot manage. (*1)

4. There must be flexibility in resetting your compass when working to achieve goals

Without compromising the end goal, you can be patient with yourself when you fall off the wagon briefly from time to time. Simply get back on. You are still better for being on the path, and it has been my observation that though our heart can change on a dime, behaviour sometimes takes time to follow, especially when you are dealing with a full out change of established habits and routine.

One of my favourite quotes is from Maya Angelou. She says simply “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, DO BETTER.” How very simple and yet profound such a statement is. It gives me permission to be patient with myself when I know that I am doing the best I can – on my path to do better. It steers me away from the temptation to beat myself up over former short comings, and to always move forward reaching for a new bar of excellence. It is motivating by not being unrealistically rigid.

5. Goals provide accountability – especially when written down

When your goal is specific, with a start date and an end in sight – you make yourself accountable to both. By writing it down, you have more accountability. A goal not written down is just a wish. By placing it where we will see it often, it can be a constant reminder, providing even more accountability. And of course sharing that goal with another, or within a safe support group – strengthens that accountability more yet. The combination of all the above, creates the best formula for success. Do NOT allow yourself to procrastinate by giving yourself loopholes. Remember, “the Best time to do better was yesterday. But the second best time is RIGHT NOW.” Be firm. Don’t let yourself off the hook with all your favourite excuses for not changing.

6. Goals provide motivation, and help us believe in ourselves

Setting achievable, measurable goals transforms mountainous challenges into manageable hills. Visualizing the end result provides the incentive to keep working toward it. Without setting actual goals, be honest with yourself, you’re just dreaming. Providing yourself with the accountability of writing your goal down and sharing it, is excellent motivation to move forward. Having a clear, compelling goal motivates you toward behaviour that will help you reach it. The goal to pay off a specific debt is clear and concise. It is easy to understand. It is measurable. Visualizing it and what it can mean for you and your future from that point on provides the motivation necessary to make it a reality. Fixing your focus on the end result, and being mindful of your continual changing behaviour along your path gives you continual feedback by which to measure your success. Success breeds more success, and a constant motivation to move forward. It isn’t simply about creating a plan, it is also about providing the inspiration and incentive to aim for and accomplish great things. Without making that goal and working everyday to achieve it, how would you ever expect to attain any level of accomplishment? When you actually SEE yourself making progress your dreams suddenly become attainable and your motivation increases. Newton’s basic law of physics remains true in all areas of life. “An object that is at rest will stay at rest unless a force acts upon it. An object that is in motion will not change its velocity unless a force acts upon it.” Once an object is moving, it is infinitely easier to keep it moving than to try to get it moving again once it has come to a stand still. And the same principle applies in our journey toward a specific goal.

7. Reaching a Goal should be celebrated as the accomplishment it is!

Seeing progress is addicting. It is invigorating and it sustains momentum. On the path to being debt free are many accomplishments. When you pay off a specific credit card debt (job well done bytheway), you have every reason to rejoice in your progress toward your ultimate goal. On your way to losing twenty pounds, you have every reason to rejoice in losing five pounds, and every other success along the way. Don’t underestimate the mental stimulation of celebrating smaller successes on your way to large ones. Achieving goals builds character. And that is something to celebrate.

Zig Zigler once said, “If you aim at nothing, you will hit it every time.” Of this I think we can be assured. We can never be happy with merely putting in our time till life is over. As children of God, we are simply not wired that way. What we can accomplish by deliberately aiming ourselves toward something meaningful that is in harmony with those things that are most important to us – is absolutely limitless. Remember that what we get by achieving our goals is nothing compared to what we ‘become’ by achieving them.

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

footnote:
*1
I have no idea where that quote comes from, or who may have originally said it, or I’d be happy to give them proper credit. If if was you – thanks

making room in the Inn for Santa

part 3 of “to Santa or not to Santa”

I began my parental relationship with Santa Claus with slight trepidation. After introducing him to our four and five year old children I still worried (I was such a worrier) about whether we had done the right thing. The kids understood that Santa had a few rules to follow if he was to remain welcome in our home, and I tried to tread that ground carefully, balancing my idealism with allowing my children to enjoy the gift of magic and excitement that he had always brought to me as a child. I didn’t want to hold him hostage, but . . . . . .

Santa sitting in Charlie’s rocking chair

Oh how I wish that I could have had the slightest glimpse into the future – just enough to know that all would be well so that I could have relaxed a bit.

As time went on, I witnessed Santa evolve into the central figure in our Christmas celebrations as we enjoyed sharing the holiday with grandparents and aunts and uncles who delighted in the few children in both our families. We were riding a wave that I felt powerless to control, and I wasn’t happy about it. The way Christmas had developed – not because we actively created it, but because we allowed it – left me unsatisfied and feeling that I was letting our children down. Santa had become all I said I’d never allow him to become. He became our Christmas. I knew I could ask him to leave. I had reserved that right after all, but now there were so many others to consider. The overwhelming reality however, was that we were still the parents, and it was our responsibility to follow our hearts and reclaim the way we celebrated Christmas.

I tossed it around for months, considering different angles, and discussing the few that seemed reasonable with Dan. Santa and Jesus didn’t have to be mutually exclusive and although we had tried to talk about the source of the tender spirit-of-giving that motivated Santa, it seemed that our kids were so busy being ‘children’ (huh), full of the childhood wonder of Santa Claus with all his trappings, that I feared I had missed something really important. I sensed that time was ticking, and their memories were becoming more firm and important. It was clear that if were were to reclaim the way we chose to celebrate Christmas, we needed to create meaningful Christ-centered traditions. We were approaching Christmas 1986. We had four children, our youngest was just a year old.

In the end, we hit on a plan. We agreed to give Christmas Day to Santa Clause, but we reserved Christmas Eve for the Saviour. I wanted Christmas EVE to BE about Him. We wanted to talk about him and imagine the night of his birth. I realize that many families re-enact the nativity, but that wasn’t ‘us‘. We needed something that worked for us.

*Journey to Bethlehem by Joseph Brickey*h

We talked about what kind of dinner Mary and Joseph might have had during their travels and after they arrived in Bethlehem. Research resources were not what they are now, but it seemed reasonable that their meal was very simple, and humble.

There was likely cheese. And undoubtedly bread. Flat bread. Perhaps figs or dates if they were lucky. Or dried fish. More than likely they would have drank water from a well or fresh wine / which wouldn’t have been much more than grape juice. It was probable that during their stay in Bethlehem they may have acquired mutton from time to time . . . . After dark, their only light would have been from candles or small lamps.
A picture began forming.

We envisioned, and then planned out our meal. It would be a simple one of white cheese with homemade flat bread, and grape juice. By candlelight. . . Preparing it was a family event. Making the bread. Cutting the cheese. Making the juice. Then we lit the candles and turned off the lights. Low light often reduces volume, and quiet discussion allows for tender feelings to be expressed. These are things we discovered while eating bread and cheese in the soft light of candles.

We have eaten bread and cheese by candlelight every Christmas Eve since 1986. There were years that were lean and cheese was expensive so there was less of it. In those years, we put homemade jam on the table. There were other years of plenty that saw fish and olives on the table. Other foods have been added from time to time. Figs. Dates. Pomegranates have become a personal favourite of mine. Oranges. More varieties of cheese. But always homemade flatbread. Always white cheese. Always purple grape juice. The grape juice has become our own, from our own purple grapes – saved for this meal.

It has become our most favourite Christmas tradition of all. One that we have maintained for over three decades. Half of my life. It is a delight to us to watch our children carry it on in their own homes with their children, and to hear that it remains their favourite tradition.

When does Santa get his time?

When the meal is over and cleaned up, and stories have been shared, and songs have been sung, . . . When guests have left, teeth have been brushed, . . . then we gather into the family room and Dan reads a favourite poem that we all know by heart but we listen to him anyway –

“Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In the hopes that St. Nickolaus soon would be there ….. “

I’ll admit it gets a little animated. And for families who normally don’t role-play, or do charades, kid after kid has always wanted a chance to portray the “plump, jolly old elf with a broad face and a little round belly, that shook, when he laughs like a bowlful of jelly.”

We owe a lot to Clement C. Moore – it is his description we rely on when we visualize Santa Claus. And he should know, because he spied him in his very own parlour all those years ago. I am grateful he took the time to write his experience down so that all of us might benefit.

I have come to love Santa Claus – and all he represents to me. I no longer quarrel with him. I am satisfied that he has done our family a great service in visiting us every Christmas Eve since that inaugural visit in 1982. We have felt his spirit as each of our children have discovered for themselves in their own time – who he really is, and what he really looks like, and WHAT HE DOES.

I think the tipping point for me in making that final decision all those years ago, was that I never felt the betrayal I’ve heard others speak of. Of course like others, I reached the age of doubting, but my mother always maintained that she believed. You could never get her to verbalize anything to the contrary. To this very day at over eighty years old, she still maintains that she believes in Santa Clause and always has. Because she always has, I always have, even though I wondered for a few years, whether I’d invite him into our lives as young parents.

One Christmas Eve when I was fourteen years old my older sister and I talked my mother into letting us help fill the stockings. Our Dad was working that night. We prevailed, and she allowed us into the inner sanctuary reserved for parents on Christmas Eve. The next morning I was shocked to wake up and still feel the magic. I confided to my mother that even though logically I understood, and for goodness sakes, had even filled the stockings, I couldn’t help it – I still “believed”! She never let me help again. Not even when I was seventeen years old and protested mightily. Not even after I was married. Until my own children hung their stockings, I was excluded from her private ritual. Although outwardly I rebelled, inwardly I always appreciated her refusal to give in. It kept the magic alive for me. And I have tried very hard to do the same for my kids.

In this house WE BELIEVE.

I’d love to hear how you incorporate your important family values into Christmas traditions. Please comment below.

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

to Santa or not to Santa

…… that is a question every parent must come to terms with at some point early in their parenting. (part 1 of “to Santa or not to Santa”)

And its not a question to be taken lightly, because whatever you decide, it isn’t your right to wreck it for others’ who may choose a different path. For me, in our very first year of parenting it could be avoided. We had the only grandchildren on both sides, so the precedent hadn’t been established. We in fact, unintentionally – had the responsibility for establishing a precedent in both of our families. A place of considerable pressure for someone as young and idealistic as we were.

The dilemma I felt was that I wanted our children to love the Saviour and to recognize that Christmas was first and foremost about celebrating His birth, and to acknowledging the important part He played in our life. I felt that a celebration the magnitude of Christmas, could be justified just as well with or without Santa Claus. But on the other hand, I had many fond memories of Santa and didn’t want to deny my kids the wholesome magic that he brings with him. But still, Santa had overshadowed any feeling I might have had as a child for the Saviour. In fact in my early childhood, I had no knowledge of the birth of Jesus and its connection to Christmas. Nativities were not a part of our Christmas. Truth be told, I don’t believe they were a part of very many people’s Christmas in those days. I never saw one when I was a child, or a youth.

I successfully dodged that bullet for a few years, while our extended families, the grandparents and aunts and uncles stood a respectful distance away from Santa while allowing us the privilege of making that decision. Christmas of 1982 was the year I needed to jump off the fence and make a decision. Jacob was four and a half years old. Sarah was three and a half. They were going to have memories of this Christmas and it was time for me to make the choice: Was Santa going to be a part of our Christmas or not? The problem was, that I didn’t have a crystal ball and couldn’t tell how inviting Santa into our lives would impact our family long term. Dan wanted Santa. Our folks all wanted Santa. All our kids’ aunts and uncles wanted Santa. . . . . And there were other issues to consider. Like how to introduce him at this point?

Finally, I hit upon a plan. I discussed it with Dan and we had an important family council with our kids. It was time. We told them about the old man who lived at the north pole, who loved children. His delight in life we told them was to make children happy, and because of that, he spent his whole year building toys for them which he gave to them once a year on Christmas Eve. We held nothing back. We laid out for them the whole picture. The red suit and beard, the sleigh and reindeer, the elves, the list, …. everything. They were spell bound, wide eyed and enthralled. We told them that there was only one thing Santa loved more than children. He loved Jesus Christ. And he celebrated the birth of Jesus Christ by giving gifts and spreading good cheer because it made him so happy to do so, BUT his one fear and worry, was that children would get so excited about him and the presents, that they would forget about the “reason for the season” – the celebration of the birth of our Saviour.

His commitment was that if that happened in any house he normally visited, he would simply stop coming to that house. As long as the children remembered Jesus, and were grateful for Santa’s gifts then he would come every year for their whole lives. But if the children got too caught up in Santa and thought that Christmas was all about him and not about Jesus, he would stop coming to them. Of course, he might depend on us as parents to let him know how that was going. We told our kids that Dad and I thought they were big enough for us to invite Santa for Christmas – if of course, they wanted him to come. You won’t be surprised to know that they very much wanted him to come! And they promised that they would always remember the reason we celebrated Christmas, which was also the reason Santa did all his wonderful stuff.

That was it then. We officially invited Santa Claus into our Christmas the year of 1982. We were expecting our third child the next spring. It was time we moved on. I had some trepidation, but I was determined to monitor our Santa-meter and keep our Christmases in balance.

As it would happen, Santa Claus happened to be visiting our local shopping mall that Saturday and I asked the kids if they’d like to go see him. They had never seen him – or any likenesses of him, before then. It is wonderful, the control a parent has over the influence the world has on a four year old. Don’t we all wish we could protect them for a life time with the same care and attention we could when they were toddlers? We controlled what they saw on television, what they read and what they saw of the world. And until we were ready, I prevented any exposure they had to Santa Claus. We made preparations to go the very next day to see him.

As we stood in a long line of excited children, (another new experience for Jacob and Sarah, as I normally avoided crowds and malls) – I noted that Santa was asking kids what they wanted for Christmas. Yikes. I forgot about that important detail. Our kids did not know they could make gift requests. I coached them “Santa Claus may ask you what you want for Christmas. If he does, Jacob why don’t you tell him you’d like a covered wagon made out of wood with horses?”
“Okay!” he readily agreed.
“Sarah, how bout you ask him for a princess dress?”
“Okay!” she joined.
Whew. That wasn’t so hard. We got closer and Jacob and Sarah were very observant of all that was going on around them. I too watched the minutes unfold – this truly was a departure point for our little family, at least where the kind old man of Christmas was concerned. My kids were getting big enough that it was time for me to let some of the world into their lives – while I could still control the circumstances.

Finally, we were at the front of the line. Santa invited them to come near to him. I accompanied. He asked them if they had been good children. They assured him they had. As predicted, he asked them what they would like for Christmas. Jacob announced that he would like a toy covered wagon drawn by horses. Sarah told him she would like a princess dress (which bytheway, in 1982 was not the Disney princess dresses we’re so familiar with nowadays). Santa nodded and made mental note, then asked “What else would you like?”
Oops. I hadn’t anticipated that one.
“We don’t know.” Jacob confided “Our mom didn’t tell us that one yet.”
Whew. Quick thinking Son. We said our good byes and received candy canes for our visit. Dad happily waited on the other side to hear about our experience.

It was a happy day for him and the kids. A bit traumatic for me, but happy nonetheless. Our family was growing up. And we had just taken a big step into a new world that could never be reversed. A tangible innocence was traded in that day, for another circumstance – another innocence that would carry us for several more years until our children were ready to make another transition: a coming-of-age discovery that Santa Claus would play a big part in. In fact, he was here to stay the rest of their lives – in one form or another.

(this is part 1 of our Santa story)
I’d love to hear about how you made that important choice of inviting (or not inviting) Santa into your family’s lives.

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

because I have been given much ….

My heart is full today. I am still feeling the ‘feels’ of an astounding observation that culminated in a few short hours yesterday.

“Because I have been given much I too must give”

For many months of the year I plan for and work to pull off my assigned responsibilities in an annual city wide Food Drive. This is a big event and my husband and I head up the efforts in the southeast part of Edmonton, a specific geographic area that comprises our stake. A “stake” to Latter-day Saints, is a church administrative/governmental unit composed of multiple congregations or “wards”. Each stake has its own leadership that manages the overall affairs that influence each congregation in it. Over the last decade our the “stake” I belong to has been conducting an annual large-scale Food Drive that has grown from the efforts of a single congregation in 2009, to include all five stakes in the greater Edmonton area as well as surrounding communities. This Food Drive collects donations to provide our local Food Banks with essentials to feed those in need who visit them. It has become a major player in the overall collection of sufficient food. Every out-of-Edmonton congregation who participates, collects for their local Food Bank.

“Because of thy great bounty Lord each day I live”

I want to tell you here that I have a tremendous amount of respect for the charity we all know locally as Food Banks, and the special people who work in them. Perhaps I can tell you more about it in a future post, but for now that is another story for another time.

“I shall divide my gifts from Thee with every brother that I see
Who has the need of help from me”

In our situation we have six local congregations who participate with Dan and I in this wonderful charitable event in the greater Edmonton area, and three more congregations who also do so on different days in their own outlying areas. The project has grown to be so big and all inclusive that governing it to mobilize the veritable ARMY of volunteers required to canvas every single home in Edmonton and its satellite communities, is a tremendous undertaking. Currently there is a couple who act as Regional Representatives who undertake to work with each Stake, and there are five stakes each with a Stake Coordinator that have approximately ten congregations within them. Each congregation or ward, has their own local coordinator who divides their ward (geographic area) into routes. They then motivate and gather dozens of volunteer families to take responsibility for one or more of those routes. These route volunteers deliver notices to each home on their route during the week prior to the Food Drive, and then go back and pick up donations from those same homes. The donations are brought to drop off points where they are loaded on to Food Drive semi trailers delivered there the day before.

“because I have been sheltered, fed by Thy good care
I cannot see another’s lack and I not share”

This brings me up to yesterday. I had been working within our stake for months, coordinating efforts of the wards to motivate and enthuse their members to save the date and get involved as volunteers. Some had organized field trips to the Food Bank to provide their members with context and a personal connection for it. Some had spoken in church and born testimony of the meaningful service we were engaged in. All had been regularly announcing and building up enthusiasm. All had coordinated routes and in the weeks prior to the Food Drive, assigned routes to volunteer families. This is a project that our local stake leaders in consultation with each other, had agreed would not only be of great benefit to our community, but would also be one within which the members of our congregations could experience meaningful selfless service. The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are all about meaningful, selfless service, so it was a perfect fit.

“my glowing fire, my loaf of bread, my roof’s safe shelter overhead –
that he too may be comforted”

I arrived at the meetinghouse around 9:30 in the morning. Ashli, Esli and the Becks were already there. It was cold. Bitter cold for September 29 in Edmonton. The wind had picked up and we all wished we had worn something warmer. We brought tables out of the stake centre and set them up. We set up pylons borrowed from the city to use to funnel traffic. More volunteers arrived. I gave them instructions, explained my vision for the day, and charged young Esli (who had taken the day off work to be with us) to be their ‘foreman’. Our donuts arrived with Bishop Siakaluk who set up a table just out of the weather where people could gather and share their experiences and something sweet in warmth. Ward reps arrived and set up stations to take reports from their route volunteers.

“Because I have been blessed by thy great love dear Lord;
I’ll share thy love again according to thy word”

Shortly after 10:15 our first donor car arrived and we put into practise what we had discussed. It always works so beautifully when the cars come by ones. LOL

Then a few more cars, and a few more. Before long it had turned into a veritable Beehive of activity. More cars, and pretty soon there was a line up of vehicles, volunteers unloading as fast as they could to get them on their way. Other volunteers transferred from table-to-trailer. More volunteers working on the trailer began loading up the first of the twenty four bins. Some route volunteers anxious to lend a hand, parked and joined the the brigade that transferred food from vehicle-to-table-to-trailer-to-bin. Many hands make light work.

“I shall give love to those in need, I’ll show that love by word and deed;
Thus shall my thanks be thanks in deed.”

When I could spare a few minutes I did a couple of live videos to share the action with those who could not be there. I would love to have been a bird watching it from above. It was a wonderful thing to be part of.

As it happens, Dan and I were billeting two high school students from Nova Scotia this week, delegates of this year’s Canadian Student Leadership Conference hosted by one of local high schools – HARRY AINLEY. Part of our commitment as a billeting family was to provide some meaningful activity for them on Saturday afternoon. Since both Dan and I were obligated to stay at our posts till 2:00 we invited them to join one of us. They arrived around 12:30, just in time for the busiest part to have subsided, but they were still able to put their shoulders-to-the-wheel and help us finish up. We were happy to have them.
(Big regret that I didn’t get their picture. Argh ….)

In the end – we FILLED all 24 of the bins in that trailer. First time ever!
By all reports, it seems that every other area was ‘up’ in their donations too. This weekend, we blew it outta the water. Full to overflowing, with lots of stuff on the floor that we couldn’t fit in. We couldn’t have fit another box of cornflakes into that trailer!

This morning I sat in church – still feeling the feels …. . SO many good people all gathered together for one huge charitable purpose – to gather food for other people who’s names and faces they do not even know. After months of anticipation and preparation on the part of so many behind the scenes, it culminated in a tremendous outpouring of “love to those in need“. Truth is – although it took hundreds of volunteers to gather the food, it took literally THOUSANDS who voluntarily gave. Gave from their own pantries, or gave what they purchased specifically for the Food Bank. There were some donations that were so incredibly generous we shook our heads in disbelief when we heard the stories. Truly there are those who have tender experience with the Food Bank and who for their own personal reasons – give so generously. At the time of this writing, Canadians are preparing to celebrate “Thanksgiving”. That one time in the year that we really do pause and reflect on the blessings that are ours. We count them one by one, and express gratitude to the source of all those blessings. The significance of the blending of these two great occasions is not lost on me.

The great prophet Moroni tells us that “charity .. is the greatest of all” and I truly believe it. He tells us that in the end, “all things must fail — but charity is the pure love of Christ, and it endureth forever” (Moroni 7:46,47) This weekend I witnessed “charity” and it warmed my heart to overflowing. This morning, by no mere coincidence I’m sure, the opening hymn we sang was that beloved prayer of gratitude and charity by American poet Grace Crowell “Because I Have Been Given Much“. It is probably my most favourite hymn of all. I attempted to sing it with the congregation – to join my voice to this prayer in music, but sometimes sounds don’t come out of my mouth when my eyes are leaking, and I had to be content to listen. I was content to do so. Truly content.

“Because I have been given much, I too must give;
Because of thy great bounty Lord, Each day I live;
I shall divide my gifts from thee With every brother that I see
Who has the need of help from me.

Because I have been sheltered, fed By thy good care;
I cannot see another’s lack and I not share;
My glowing fire, my loaf of bread, my roof’s safe shelter overhead
That he too may be comforted.

Because I have been blessed by thy great love dear Lord;
I’ll share thy love again According to thy word;
I shall give love to those in need, I’ll show that love by word and deed;
Thus shall my thanks be thanks in deed.”

Thank-you Edmonton and district around, you did good this week. You did good.

Warmly,

Cindy Suelzle

a postscript :
At this point there are still many multi-family complexes and apartment buildings that are not getting canvassed simply because of manpower. If you have an interest in taking a route for next year’s event, we would love to recruit community volunteers to help us with our Food Drive 2019. If you will comment below and reach out to me, I will put you in touch with a team leader in your geographic part of the city. If you’re not in Edmonton, tell me where you are. I will do my best to put you in touch with a team leader in your neck of the woods. There are annual Food Drives in many Alberta communities. “By small and simple things, great things come to pass”, and truly this is a Great thing!