God is Good to the Johnsons

Here atop a balance beam wobbling here from side to side Hoping to find peace between Justice's wave and mercy's tide I know that I am not to judge unrighteously, but how to know the place between a gentle heart or to deliver a firm word's blow I'm tired of the ceaseless mobs of those denying Jesus' truths And people leaving from his fold They couldn't wait to see the fruits. I'm told to love, and told to peace Told to stand firm, to give relief And I'll defend, midst pain and grief All of my tender heart's beliefs But sometimes I haven't clues to see Whether to draw quietly in the dirt Or overthrow the seller's wares Or simply, situations skirt... For there are those whom I call friends Whose course and mine no longer bend in the same strait from north to south... But friendship can't see journey's end So you and I, our minds once one Apart now in ideals and faith Maintaining our relationship But spli

I remember holding you, the first morn after wedded And thinking then, as our eyes met midst smiles How could I ever love you more? But here we are dear, riding hand in hand Teasing and laughing as the Jeep takes us south And I love you now more than all the days past. And I can't imagine loving you more tomorrow, but now, after 1,528 days of waking up next to your eyes and smiles, I know that I will. ~~~ I remember holding you, that morn when you were born And thinking then, amidst tears and cries and your soft newness-- How could I ever love you more? But here we are munch, playing duplos and singing You grab my cheek to plant a kiss, you place in my hands just one more book-- And I love you now more than all the days past. And I can't imagine loving you more tomorrow, but now, after 608 days of teaching you and reading to you and watching you grow, I know that I will. ~~~ I remember looking at the positive sign, a glow in

It's been a hot minute. I haven't posted anything, because quite frankly, I've been afraid to write. My writer self looks gaunt in the face and weepy for neglect. She has so many beautiful ideas and at least thrice weekly she has a brilliant subject for a blog post or journal entry. But, admittedly, she's been held captive by my insecurity demons, those brutes who whisper bitter nothings... Sometimes they attack my artistic side: " you can't post a recipe. You don't even have a picture, and if you did take a picture, you just have a smart phone camera. That photo would look pathetic. What a newbie  you'll look like next to your favorite gorgeous food blogs like 'cooking classy' and 'six sisters stuff'  ... or ... " you think you're a poet? Bah. Half your poems don't even have matching syllables from line to line. Your imagery is weak and your ideas are all over the place. What are you even trying to convey? They'll

SEVEN THINGS YOU MAY NOT KNOW ABOUT ME I often take the long way home, just so I can drive by the farm that houses two darling Arabian foals in their frontmost pasture. I most certainly squealed the first time I spotted them. Making friends with people my own age does not come naturally to me. While I've worked at it over my lifetime and I'm fairly competent at having a conversation with someone born in the same decade as me, I feel most comfortable talking with people my grandparents' age. Brushing my teeth is at least a four-times-a-day occurrence for me. My husband laughs when I brush my teeth right before dinner. A delicious meal is always more enjoyable when partaken with a truly clean palate.  I'm a cheddar cheese snob. After sampling a smattering of cheddar cheeses from Harmon's, Walmart, Macey's, and more, I can confidently tell you that Smith's Kroger-Brand-Sharp-Cheddar-Cheese-Block is supremely superior. Secretly, I'm an old person

Dear Friends, Family, Acquaintances, and you lovely random passerby of the Blogosphere-- A year and 10 days ago I set out on a journey to write a blog post a day, for two months straight. I did that successfully, and then decided to extend my challenge to a one-year challenge. My report? I wrote 317 blog posts in a 365-day period. And I think that's pretty rad. A few reflections on this experience: Firstly, I started this blog not just because I love writing, but because I needed help. I was suffering from some intense postpartum anxiety, but I didn't know that's what it was at the time. Every moment of every day I felt like I was under severe stress and pressure, even when there were no evident triggers for such. The feeling in my gut on an almost constant basis felt like the queasy stomach, racing heartbeat, and unsettled mind that greeted me before every math test and job interview I've had growing up. I knew something was wrong, but I didn't know how

Apparently, Charlie's got the bill. Thanks bud. Somos cuatro ahora. I want to make this recipe, but I don't know where to buy figs? Tips? In heaven at Grandma's house. A discovery amongst papers from my high school days. What kept me sane during difficult classes were these margin doodlings. Apparently I organized these wrong. Thanks for helping me sort things out, little man. Amen. Potato Peel Pie (Admittedly, without potato peelings. I know, I don't know that the Guernsey Literary Society would accept me fully). Barber Dad extraordinaire. The best thing to wake up to after he's left for work 💗 Day #317

OK Guys, so I know we're well into 2019 at this point, but I'm feeling this empty hole in my heart from not writing about the best parts of 2018 in a blogpost. So I'mma right this right now. Here's my gratefuls from last calendar year, in no particular order: My 3 year anniversary with the love of my life, Kevin J 😍 My baby boy's 1st birthday Visiting Washington D.C. with my parents and brothers. My appreciation for the freedoms I enjoy, and my respect for all those who have sacrificed so much to offer those freedoms to me, increased tremendously. Plus, late nights playing Codenames in our hotel and enjoying Larry's ice cream in the Reagan Building food court were pretty awesome too. Love my family. The first Christmas in a long time where I gave gifts I really put a lot of time, thought, and sweat into; and received beautiful gifts of the same kind. Finally reaching a weight and status of activity/health that made me feel comfortable and happy in my

Sometimes people ask me when it was that I first rightly knew that a Savior stands beside me, and knows me through and through. I can't tell them of a certain time, one sure moment, or firm scene Because God's been so good to me, I see his Son in everything I see Jesus in my Mother's smile as she makes friends at the store I see Jesus in the starfish when I walk along the shore See, my mother follows Jesus when she's kind to strangers and to friends And the creatures on this planet made by him, their breath he lends I see Jesus in my father, his hands work with tools and wood I see Jesus in my students, when a concept they've finally understood You See, Jesus was a carpenter too, and he continues to shape and build And He's the master teacher, and with each thing I learn, He's thrilled I see Jesus in my brothers, when we talk, they lend an ear I see Jesus in his prophet, for He is God's chosen seer Jesus is my brother too, my troubles he

Have you ever planned a vacation on paper... or Google docs, and not taken it yet? And maybe you won't, for a long, long time? I have, I have and it's not that we won't go it's just that the vacation days and the pennies in the jar haven't added up yet but that ain't stopping me from making my vacation files and getting giddy about the far-offs in the far-future with you because why not? And don't worry, I'm enjoying the now, too But on occasion, I just need some time to dream up a trip 'cross the sky or the water or the road just for fun. And all the foods we'll eat at the pier and all the candies we'll taste in the Europe and all the shows we'll see on that Broadway and all the sun that will kiss us and all the rainwater that will drench us and all the hidden waterfalls we'll become acquainted with. And then I click save, and close. The vacation files, they stay where they be and I open them up sometimes

In my High School yearbooks, the students of the graduating class each year got to choose a quote to accompany their picture. I'm pretty sure mine was by Dr. Seuss, but to be honest, I can't rightly recall. However, I distinctly remember a quote that my friend, Cami, included beneath her picture, I've thought of it often throughout the years: "I believe the secret to life is someone to love, something to do, and something to look forward to." -Elvis Presley I've found a lot of truth in that. I'm a lucky girl, and I've never had a shortage of people to love--and honestly, I can't think of a day when I haven't had plenty of things to do (or should do). But when I find myself in an emotional slump, I sometimes think of this quote. It doesn't always work, because heartaches and letdowns are real, but often my spirits have been cheered when I remember something wonderful coming up in my life. Here's a few I've got cooking in my look

So... Kevin Johnson and I may or may not be obsessed with Rice Pudding at the moment. We're trying to be more responsible adults now that we have a mortgage, so going out on a whim for ice cream or stroopwaffel all the time isn't our style anymore (at least, that's what we're aiming for 😉). Rice pudding is this amazingly delicious, creamy, and inexpensive-to-make dessert that has us smacking our lips and wishing for more the very next night. Here's our go-to recipe, credit given to allrecipes.com ! Ingredients:  3 cups rice (already cooked. To cook it: Just boil 3 cups of water and add 1.5 cups of rice, boil for 15 minutes and you're golden) 3 cups milk 2/3 cup sugar 2 eggs vanilla and butter (optional) Instructions:  Mix the rice and 2 cups of the milk together in a medium size pot. Heat it for 15 minutes over medium heat, stirring at least once a minute. In a separate bowl, mix together the eggs, 1 cup of milk, and sugar. After the rice mixtur

About four years ago, I told someone I look up to and trust that now that I've studied Spanish, I wanted very much to learn French. I'll never forget their look of general disdain as they asked me pointedly, "Why?" Their reaction surprised me. I don't remember how I responded. And sadly, I let that moment shape me. I put French on the shelf. I can't blame my confidant for my lack of effort. But I do think that the "shut-down vibe" as I'm going to call it is far to common in our tone as we converse with those around us, and that strain of negativity destructs the speaker and the recipient. Some other examples--a dear friend of mine (as a teenager) asked his mother if she thought he could finish the Book of Mormon in a week's time, she told him "No, I don't think you can." When I asked a talented classmate of mine some tips she'd have for me while I prepared for a high school choir audition, she responded that I shouldn

I'm well aware this picture is blurry. But I love it. I love it because what if we were all as excited about literacy as my son? Excited to the point of reading our favorite books to our stuffed animal Monkey? Elated enough about words that we preferred them to playing with Duplo Legos and Hotwheels cars? What if we prioritized reading with our family members, and invited them to read with us, as he does when he hands books to me and his Dad and our friends and fellow babies and people in the pew behind us at church? What sort of well-read, intelligent, with-it and well-communicated world would ours be? I wonder sometimes. I'm also grateful that my toddler encourages me to read, and to love it, and to share it with others. Day #310

Sometimes I forget  how much I've learned in my life til seeing your hands Small, sweet, and shaky you sit in Daddy's strong lap trying out a fork I eat without thought I walk without noticing speak without effort But my little love, you're teaching me to give thanks for all that I've learned That God's given life To me, Dad, and you kids And time to learn much So next time I start belittling my efforts I will look to you Clapping your small hands When you cross the room in strides Despite a few falls God smiles on your growth I've learned He smiles on mine too Instead I'll rejoice. Day #309

Have you ever read a book that spoke so deeply to your soul that you wept while you read it, couldn't put it down even for the pain, and thought about it for days after you finished? I have. I've been fortunate to wander upon many books that have done such for me, but the most recent literary treasure of this variety in my life has been "Between Shades of Gray" by Ruta Sepetys. I don't want to give much away, but I will say this: this book brought to my awareness of the WWII era histories of many Estonian, Latvian, and Lithuanian people. Previous to this novel I was aware that Jews (and other persecuted groups alongside them such as gypsies, the intellectually disabled and homosexuals) were victims of holocaust crimes under Hitler. But I was not aware that Stalin held his own "cleanse" and subjected millions of people to labor, cruelty, and death. The reason why I loved this book was because of the humanity and true charity many victims chose

A few weeks ago, I was inspired by a post my friend John shared on Facebook: "Sometimes church is staying home to cuddle your depressed wife and trying to help her be okay, where you let go of logic and reason to just be for a while. Sometimes church is going alone and sitting between young good looking couples with promising futures, sticking out like a sore thumb, but only because you're trying to sing tenor and bass instead of the melody. Sometimes church is being reminded of things you've forgotten, having good conversations in the halls instead of being on time to class, or making old friends new." I was truly blessed by his words, they've stuck in my mind the past couple weeks as I've started to think of what "church" means to me. I have also been thinking HARD on a video my church released a few months ago, it's only a minute long so PLZ watch it:  Before I continue, I want to emphasize how much I enjoy attending my co

Ain'tchu too quiet, country roads? I though I could recall the quiet of your streets from childhood, interrupted only by the passing train and the occasional whirr of a pickup. But city life, even in a college town, it went and gone got me used to all the noise like a welcome hum of a songbird that never skips town and keeps his place on my front tree. It's like I don't notice him, till all of a sudden he be gone and here I be with all the quiet surrounding me, like a blanket tucked in all the places I can't reach to get out from under it. Those motorcycles, those passerby, the conversations I wasn't meant to hear (but I did hear, cuz they wafted their way through the window, and now I know how she really feels about Blake Smith in biology class) The herds of honks and sirens and music pealing through the windows of every dumpy college car, I miss their ditties like I miss old friends. And I know, I know, I know the calm will reach it's place in

You knew, Lord, that a little extra time to sleep in is just what my body and mind needed today? There are plenty of mornings when I have to hold on and carry on even though I'm a zombie, But not today. Thank you for helping my weary body and my restless toddler find synchrony in staying a sleep, just a little longer, this morning. You knew, Lord, that I was scared of being the new kid again. I should be used to it by now, the many times I've been new at a neighborhood or job... but this time the butterflies still came. And there she was, my old friend from Gig Harbor, with her son and baby sitting behind us at church and I know I disrupted the meeting when I ran to hug her but I think you understand, and my heart was filled with assurance that this is the right place for my family and I'll belong here, too. You knew, Lord, at my panic before the doctor's office and you know perfectly the awful pain I felt there before And while it hurt some, this

The worry babe, It's plain to see it's affecting all of me and I'm trying hard to have faith, believe but help me in what I can't see you've got the strength of many souls to trust in how God's plan unfolds but honey, why's it eating me? This inability to see what's coming next in anything? Day #304

I've been gone a while, I was in the middle of packing. I was in the middle of moving. I was in the middle of throwing up and feeling exhaustion even after good nights' rests and naps. I was in the middle of unpacking. I was in the middle of meeting new people and missing the old ones with ardor. I was in the middle of weeping. I was in the middle of hoping. I was in the middle of caring for five children as a substitute mom to four and a for-reals mom to one, I was in the middle of walking the paths of my childhood while making memories in the present. I was in the middle of art projects, play dough, homemade pizza and movies at the sticky shoe. I was in the middle of l i f e and in the middle of it all I left my writing on the shelf in order to just live. But I'm back now. I started this blog thinking there would never be a day I didn't want to write, because I love love love  to put words on pages. I just didn't anticipate that there are times

How long does it take? Til a house feels like a home? I’ve forgotten since the last time. How long does it take? To adjust to the steps? You know, to the point where you can navigate the house in the dark, and fetch your baby a bottle and rock him to sleep without turning any lights on. How long does it take? To stop calling the other place home? Because right now, I still feel like a stranger (a happy stranger, but foreign at that) And I miss Provo. Day #302

I didn't expect tears, and I didn't expect him to put his hands in front of mine to stop the tape. At first he thought it was a game, as I took books off the shelf, so did he He giggled as he did it, making his floor a library instead of the shelf. It was cute. But now, now he dives into the boxes, pulling out the things I've placed inside and gazing at me through tearstained eyes, confused. It didn't hit me til today, after days and days of this placing and packaging that I'm placing his whole world into boxes. These little walls, these four rooms. It's here we gave him a tour after he came home from the hospital, showing him each and every corner of our little home. Daddy and me weeping and laughing because we'd never lived our life with three before, and the joy spilled over. We walked and talked through every room, We were introducing him to life in a duplex, life in our home, our sanctuary. For his 15 months, this has been his place and I

Baby, last night you found two white circles on our friends’ floor Two itty bitty fat and flat cylinders And how was I to know they were Altoids? You’da been fine. But baby, I didn’t know til that moment How fast I could scoop you up, How my fingers could pry open your stubborn little lips to pry out that pill, How the adrenaline kicked me to high-gear in a fraction of a moment Because Baby, last night I learned that I’m a momma bear And I’ll do what it takes To protect you Always. Day #300

I never liked the games they'd play those boys, who'd wile the hours away in lines for lunch, or rides, or class And all that time they'd gruesomely ask "Would you rather" that or this from hearing a roar or a rattlesnake's hiss to death by rabbits or death by goats Allergy to water, or inability to float But midst the nasty situations splayed in this yucky game that boys would play when faced with sleep loss or hunger's pains I knew from which I would refrain For while it's not pleasant to hear stomach rumbles Without sleep, I know, I'd endlessly grumble. But would I tell those boys? Why no, Interest in their talk I'd never show But if I had to pose my own quest, a dementor or an orc, would you rather best? Day #299

Today I was lunching with an old friend (I've known her since we were wee toddlers) who is expecting her first baby, due in just a few short weeks. She confided in me how difficult it has been for her to hear acquaintances discuss in terribly negative tones how taxing and trying motherhood has seemed to be for them. She continued to tell me in strength and optimism that she believes that since God has commanded us to multiply and replenish the earth, that it should bring joy to us. I heartily agreed. Now, I fully recognize that motherhood brings unique trials (exhaustion, postpartum/antepartum depression and anxiety, wayward children, etc. to name a few), but I believe it's important to give just as much time--nay, MORE time--to discussing the positives. With that, I also want to extend a heartfelt hug across time and space to mothers of every kind, those who have given birth and those who haven't, mothers who are married and those who are single, those mothers of every

Mijo, Mijo Estoy aquí mientras sonríes y lloras Juntos, Juntos Estás allí mientras sonrío y lloro Yo, Yo Day #297

Who:  Martin Luther King, Jr. was a Baptist minister, and leader of the Civil Rights movement from the Mid 1950s until his death in 1968. He led thousands in peaceful, non-violent protest; and, as a result of his and others' noble efforts, the Civil Rights Act was passed in 1964 and the Voting Rights Act was passed in 1965. He is a champion of equality for all people. How I Learned About Him:  I have studied Martin's life for as long as I can remember, mostly at school, but during some leisure reading as well. Many children's books have given me the general and minute details of his life, including titles like Martin's Big Words by Doreen Rappaport and My Brother Martin by Christine King Farris (who also happens to be Martin's sister). Why He Has Blessed My Life:   I am grateful to Martin Luther King Jr. because his efforts have made my friendships and acquaintanceships with dozens of people of various ethnicities possible--because I met them in school and

Who:  Jane Manning James was one of the early members of the restored church of Jesus Christ . She hungered to find God's true church, and when she was a teenager she heard the missionaries teach in her Connecticut home, felt the veracity of the truths they taught, and was baptized a member of Christ's church the following Sunday. During her long life as a member of the church (her membership spanned over 70+ years), she traveled from Connecticut to Nauvoo, Illinois; from Illinois to Winter Quarters, Nebraska; and from Nebraska to Salt Lake City, Utah. She suffered many racial persecutions along her journey (including from other members of the church), endured cracked and bleeding feet along her long journeys on foot, and survived the crop failures that resulted from a cricket infestation in 1848; among many, many other trials. She married Isaac James in 1844 and raised 10 children. How I Learned About Her:  I first learned about Jane during a worldwide broadcast in J

Who: Jackie Robinson was the first black major league baseball player. He joined the Brooklyn Dodgers in 1947, won the MLB 1947 Rookie-of-the-Year Award, and only two years later was awarded the National League Most Valuable Player Award. He played with the Dodgers in six World Series. He was a champion of baseball, and he was a "Champion of Civil Rights" (History Channel). Not only was he the pivotal start to the integration of races in Major League Baseball, but he also spoke out against southern Jim Crow laws and pushed for integration in other fields of employment. He married Rachel Robinson in 1946, and they became the parents of three children. Jackie was a devoted husband and father. How I learned about him:  I have known who Jackie Robinson was since elementary school, I distinctly remember seeing one of his MLB photos in a school textbook. I knew he was a key part of the civil rights movement and was a talented ball player. However, I don't feel I knew much of

This post (or rather, series of posts) has been on my mind for months. I have hesitated and ruminated and bit my lip and held back my typing, for many reasons. Some of them include: I'm a white girl from Utah.  I have no black relatives or ancestors.  I'm under-qualified to write about a topic like Black History. I'm afraid of offending someone because of my inexperience writing about this subject, and because of the above statements. Despite my reservations, I'm writing about this topic because: I have friends, teachers, and previous students that are black. I am inspired by dozens--nay, probably hundreds--of people of African descent. This topic is important. This topic is important to me. I pray that you'll be patient with me and my imperfections as I write this week, and I hope that you'll see and feel of the vision, faith, spunk, courage, and grit of these amazing people of African heritage that I admire and revere so much. To start,

Sometimes I go back through my photo library, I find writing inspiration in my memories. I'm often brought to poetry, recipes, and anecdotes from these photo jaunts. Today I simply want to tell the story behind this picture, because the people that staged it make me laugh and I love them. My twin brothers Jordan and Tyler are a dynamic film duo, and have been from the age of two when they commandeered my mom's camera and took shots and footage of everything from the kitchen pantry to the bathroom toilet. So, interestingly, their birthday gifts over the years have often included bizarre props, stage makeup, and other odd doo-dads. None could be quite as gruesome as the gallon of fake blood they received, but these pair of plastic skeletons come pretty close. What's funny about these skele-bones, though, is that they were utilized by said brotherly duo to prank the rest of the family. I pulled out of the driveway on my way to work to find a skele-buddy in my passenger s

Today, son, you grabbed this book off the shelf and I couldn't have been happier. Today, son, you started to show me your hunger for the word of God and is it wrong for me to wish you to always be hungry for that? As long as you will feast each time you read. Today son, I want you to know that I know the Book of Mormon is true I KNOW it to be the word of God, for as I've read of Christ and as I've striven to live by the principles he's taught, I've felt peace and joy amidst storms I've felt light and hope amidst pain I've felt God's love for me, and for you. Today son, and for always,  read and live this book. Day #291

hay unos dulces corazoncitos Parecen en el kiosco cada año, en el mes febrero y aunque sé que son totalmente azúcar Los compro igual Y los como igual (la caja entera...) Y estos corazoncitos saben de amor, mi niñez, y una visita al dentista 🦷 Y me encantan  💙💕❤️💛💞💚💜💓

I ain’t never liked laundry Or dishes Or weedin’ But baby with you... there ain’t nothin’ bout it That’s doldrums or humdrum like before. I’d never thought to wrap our little boy in things to fold  like they was sand on a beach Or turn washin’ dishes into a favorite you-tube video showing session with suds a flyin’  Or make yard work play Because you pause for piggy back rides and kisses In between all the mud In fact, while covered with mud. So the grunt work, the hard work With you babe, it passes right by And is it doldrums or humdrum anymore?  Nah, not with you Not when you’re there too. 

Here we are, little boy Wrapped in blankets, me feeding you a bottle At three AM While thunder cracks and lightning whips and rain pelts from the outside world. That storm, It would fain have us drenched and frightened and shocked to our cores, But here we are, safe, safe and sheltered with Daddy in our little home, protected by the roof and walls Holding onto each other while we cozy up in the night Away from the wiles of the storm Safe together. Here, here we are little boy Wrapped up in breakfast, me feeding you applesauce and stories of Jesus At seven AM while sin cracks hearts and the winds of life whip and pain pelts in the outside world (and sometimes, our inside world) That storm in life, it fain would have us fall and feel hopeless and rocked to our cores, But here we are, safe and sheltered with Daddy in our little home, protected by our faith and the grace of God Holding on to each other while we traverse through life’s storm Saved from the wiles through Chr

UN DEUX TROIS QUATRE " There is no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard No song that I could sing, but I can try for your heart Our dreams, and they are made out of real things Like a, shoe box of photographs With sepia-toned loving I'll tell you one thing, it's always better when we're together."  -Jack Johnson “Here ends another day, during which I have had eyes, ears, hands and the great world around me. Tomorrow begins another day. Why am I allowed two?” -G. K. Chesterton