Scripture Squiggle: Mosiah 23:21

"Nevertheless the Lord seeth fit to chasten his people; yea, he trieth their patience and their faith."

Few things try my patience the way potty training can. Especially with my youngest son. I had decided, after six kids worth of potty training experience, that the best time to start working with a child was around the time they turned three. So, I was quite content knowing I had until next May before I even had to think about potty training. Until Levi decided he was ready for potty training, shortly after he turned two.

At first I humored him, taking his diaper off every time he indicated he needed to go and plopping him on the toilet. This went on for a week. Then one day, I pulled off his diaper, sat him on the toilet with a sigh and was surprised by a tinkling sound as he actually went potty. He was rarely dry when he said he needed to go, but he began consistently going every time he told me he needed too, usually no more than a small trickle, but going nonetheless.

So when summer started, with the older kids out of school to help, we tried putting him in underwear. He of course wet every pair we put on him. After two days we ran out of clean underwear and put him back in a diaper. The only times he wanted to go potty were during Sacrament meeting, at Wal-Mart, at Grandma's house, and after we put him to bed each night.

But he was still going. I began to worry that if I didn't try to harness his desire to go potty in the toilet and actually waited until he turned three, he would be harder to train. Alas, I determined to start things again after everyone settled back into the school routine.

I bought him new Thomas the Tank Engine underwear and we began. The first day he peed regularly--in his underwear--anytime he laughed, cried, screamed or sneezed. I prayed almost constantly for patience as I cleaned up after him each time. In the morning, I dreaded the moment he would wake up and the battle would renew.

When he did wake up, though, he was dry. He gave me his usual trickle in the toilet and then stayed dry for nearly an hour. Progress. Or not. He continued to wet, continued to refuse to go when I knew he needed to, and I continued praying for more and more patience.

We tried candies. I gave him a jelly bean every time he was dry. I checked his pants each half hour, celebrated with him when he was dry, gave him the candy, and invariably changed him a few minutes later. He hardly stayed on the toilet long enough to accomplish anything, so we tried Smarties. One Smartie if he went a little, another if he would get back on and go some more. For a while, it worked, but when he tired of the Smarties, we went right back to him jumping of the toilet before he'd even started.

Patience. A week and two days after we started full fledged training, I felt inspired to place board books in all of the bathrooms in the house. The next time he went potty, I pulled out one of his favorites and was rewarded with a boy who sat long enough to finish going.

Yesterday, he actually went nearly the entire day without an accident. He still has a way to go, but we are definitely making progress.

And the Lord continues to teach me patience--now the boy demands multiple readings of multiple books before he will got off the toilet!

Hmmm. Maybe I should be careful what I pray for...

Scripture Squiggle: Ephesians 5:25

"Husbands, love your wives, even as Christ also loved the church, and gave himself for it."

My father is a dragon slayer. I've seen him in action as he defends his castle, and my mother, from the fearsome beasts. Fire breathing? No. Taller than a skyscraper? No. Massive jaws and killer claws? Again, no. Hairy, six-legged and creepy? Yes! My mother's dragons are ugly, brown, two-inch cockroaches. And my father is her hero.

My brother is also a dragon slayer. As is my husband. The dragons that terrify my sister-in-law differ from those my father slays and from the ones that attack my home. Hers are spiders; mine are scorpions. While the species of dragons differ, the love and affection the slaying of those dragons show for my mother, my sister-in-law, and for me is incredibly strong--the damsel-in-distress-knight-in-shining-armor connection.

Sure, I'm a strong, capable woman. More than once a dragon has reared its ugly head when my dragon slayer hasn't been home, and I've had to kill the monster myself. But when he is home, I'm a willing damsel in distress, and in doing so, I feed his need to protect and defend me.

All husbands should be dragon slayers--protecting the women they love from the things they fear most, whether the dragon is tangible or not. And all wives should often be the damsel, giving her husband a chance to rescue her. Stories are full of the rescued falling in love with the rescuers.

I know my heart swells with greater love every time my dragon slayer defeats another beast, scoops it up in a plastic cup and disposes of it in the garbage can.

Scripture Squiggle: Proverbs 22:6

"Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it."

My mom had a unique way of slipping bits of the Gospel into the lives of her children. She liked to place uplifting quotes, pictures and Mormon-ads throughout the house in places where we could not ignore them. Like the bathroom.

Even though I have been out of the house for over seventeen years, I can still remember many of the Mormon-ads on the wall of the bathroom: "Reflect on Eternity," "Rise above the Blues," "Cutting Remarks are really Hurting." I see the picture of the girl looking into a mirror and seeing, not her reflection, but her future self with a young man standing outside the temple; the one yellow balloon climbing above the group of blue ones; a young man with knives coming out of his mouth as he speaks.

On the wall beside the bathroom door, my mom placed a handwritten copy of the final stanza of the poem by Ella Wheeler Cox entitled "Gethsemane." I never saw that poem anywhere else, never studied it in church or school, but I can still quote those closing lines.

When my mom picked me up from church activities or school games, she always had uplifting music playing. Although I would unfailingly pop her cassette out of the player and turn the volume up on my own music, lines from the songs she played would linger in my mind, often steering the course of my attitude later on.

Mom never forced spirituality on us. She never argued when we changed the music, and we always had the option of using the bathroom with our eyes closed, but she surrounded herself with goodness. And because she did, when we were with her, near her, that goodness encircled us. And her children have been blessed by it.

Scripture Squiggle Doctrine and Covenants 46:32

"And ye must give thanks unto God in the Spirit for whatsoever blessing ye are blessed with."

During an address during general conference in October of 2008, President Monson reminded us, "Our realization of what is most important in life goes hand in hand with gratitude for our blessings."

(Finding Joy in the Journey)

The Spiral Notebook

We didn't feel very thankful as November of 2009 approached. My husband and I and our seven children were living in a three bedroom trailer without hope of improved circumstances anytime soon. It seemed the complaints multiplied with each day that passed, and I was beginning to feel crushed beneath the weight of our unhappiness. "Mom, when will I have my own room?" "She never helps me clean up." "I HATE this house!" And, although I didn't voice it, I felt the same way. How can I ever keep the house clean with so little space? A dishwasher sure would be nice. Another scratch in the linoleum?

Something had to be done. Something to remind us of all the blessings Heavenly Father had given us. So I found a lightly used spiral notebook buried in a junk drawer, tore out the used pages, and decorated the cover with a few stickers and a marker: Our Book of Daily Blessings. I showed the notebook to the family and told them my idea. Each day, everyone in the family needed to write down a blessing that they were thankful for. Those who could not write, could draw a picture or have an older sibling write it for them.

I placed the book in an accessible location and stocked the area with pens, pencils and crayons. At the end of the first day, I discovered that my family was grateful for food, clothes and other basic necessities. But by the time Thanksgiving arrived, our blessings became deeper; we were far more aware of God's hand in our lives. My son, who struggled with sharing a room with three loud, energetic siblings, wrote, "God showed me how loving my family is and how to be thankful for my trials." A daughter observed, "God gave me the ability to help a student I didn't know with work and she became my friend." And my husband, perhaps the loudest of all the complainers, penned, "Heavenly Father helped me to recognize that our current lifestyle is not as bad as some people."

We enjoyed the Book of Blessings so much that we continued writing in it long after Thanksgiving passed. We became a family full of gratitude, a family that saw God and His magnificent blessings in everything around us-- thanks to a slightly tattered, wide-ruled spiral notebook.

Scripture Squiggle: Doctrine & Covenants 18:23-24

"Behold, Jesus Christ is the name which is given of the Father, and there is none other name given whereby man can be saved;

Wherefore, all men must take upon them the name which is given of the Father, for in that name shall they be called at the last day"

When I discovered that some unknown someone was using my name and social security number, I felt like screaming and crying. My entire body trembled, my stomach cramped and I thought I would be sick. I felt a total lack of control. What could I do? I didn't know who was using my information; I didn't know when it had started or where they had gotten it. I just knew that someone had my name, and I wasn't sure I liked how they were using it.

In many ways, the Savior is a victim of identity theft. He warned us of Antichrists and false prophets. We've read about Sherem and Korihor in the Book of Mormon. More recently we've heard claims of imminent judgement and the end of the world, despite the declaration in the scriptures that only Heavenly Father knows when the Second Coming will occur.

What about those of us who have chosen, not to denounce the Savior or deceive those who would follow him, but to take upon us his name? Are we living in a way that is consistent with his life? Or do our actions cause him anguish. Are we damaging our Savior's love and trust in us with how we are using the name that he has given us just as the person who has stolen my name is hurting my credibility?

In an article in the April 1982 New Era entitled, "Taking Upon Us His Name", Ardeth Kapp relates, "It is in reaching out to others that we qualify ourselves and become more worthy of his name. It is our ordinary work, our seemingly routine duties, and our familiar relationships that can become sacramental in nature."

We should consider our actions daily to be sure we are not falsely using Jesus' name. Then we can partake of the promise given in Mosiah 5:9

"And it shall come to pass that whosoever doeth this shall be found at the right hand of God, for he shall know the name by which he is called; for he shall be called by the name of Christ."

Scripture Squiggle: 3 Nephi 12:6

"And blessed are all they who do hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled with the Holy Ghost."

Until last night, I didn't give these words much thought. To me, this verse meant to seek after righteousness, and if we do so, we are worthy of the companionship of the Holy Ghost. But to hunger and thirst after something means that we really want, need, that thing, and when we attain that which we seek, we are satisfied.

I'm no stranger to feeling physically full--especially on pizza night. However, I never really considered what it meant to feel spiritually full.

Last night, at a relief society activity, I learned what that feeling is. It's knowing that I helped turn a stranger's anger into a smile by sending my daughter over to move the shopping cart out of the parking space. It's the warmth of fellowship that comes from attending Sunday meetings and chatting in the hall. It's the peace that settles my mind when I read a verse of scripture that must have been written for me, for just that moment in my life. It's a tear cried for someone else, a tear wiped away. It's a hug or a smile, or countless things, little and big, that I can do each day--for my stubborn little boys or someone I've never met.

It's a feeling I need to know so well, that I crave it as much as I crave a steaming cup of hot chocolate on a frigid day.

Am I spiritually fed each day or am I unknowingly starving, when nourishment is within my grasp? Am I teaching my children to recognize their own hunger for spiritual things? I think I'll look a little closer at my family's spiritual diet. It's never to late to start being healthy!

Scripture Squiggle: Helaman 12:2

"Yea, and we may see at the very time when he doth prosper his people, yea, in the increase of their fields, their flocks and their herds, and in gold, and in silver, and in all manner of precious things of every kind and art; sparing their lives, and delivering them out of the hands of their enemies; softening the hearts of their enemies that they should not declare wars against them; yea, and in fine, doing all things for the welfare and happiness of his people; yea, then is the time that they do harden their hearts, and do forget the Lord their God, and do trample under their feet the Holy One--yea, and this because of their ease, and their exceedingly great prosperity."

The phrase was becoming one of my most frequently asked questions. As my husband and I toiled to convince the water pump to actually pump the water the grass so desperately needed. Why can't it ever be easy for us?

Again, when we tried to build a shelter for the tomato plants, wilting and baking in the sun. Why can't it be easy?

I asked the question every time a task turned out to be more difficult than I felt it should have--which was quite often. My husband's standard reply was, "Because we're Anderson's." To which I would grumble something about only being an Anderson by marriage and therefore should be immune to any curse.

But even the simple job of replacing windshield wipers became a frustrating, lengthy chore that left us both cross.

I was beginning to believe my husband's joking reply one night as we struggled to install a simple three-piece mount for our flat screen TV. Surely it should not take an hour to determine where to place the screws, drill the pilot holes and tighten everything into place. Alas, more than an hour had passed as we searched for the stud locator, searched for the drill bits, broke one of the thick screws, and misplaced the ratcheting screwdriver.

In the midst of the angering chaos, while trying to coax the last two screws into the back of the television I wondered aloud yet again why things couldn't go smoothly for us. From behind me, my husband gave me a soft chuckle.

"Hold on," he said and than he began to read Helaman 12:2. When he finished he set his scriptures aside. "That's why it isn't easy for us."

I tightened the last screw into place. "Things have to be difficult to remind us that we need the Lord?"

"Pretty much. I'd rather have things hard and remember that I rely on the Lord to accomplish things, even the little things instead of relying on my own strength out of pride and finding myself on the wrong side of things when Savior returns."

He moved over beside me and we lifted the TV together, attaching it to the mount on the wall. It was a little off balance, and we grinned at each other. "It can't be easy can it?" I laughed.