Teaching Tithing

To the ♥ of a 7 year old boy,
who has mopped, swept, washed, and worked his way to $30,
is not easy.


"Do you remember that you need to pay tithing when you make money?"

"MOOOooom!!!?? (Big frown, tears pooling up) I need all my money to buy the Thunder Driller."


I didn't know exactly what to say.
I offered a little prayer in my heart.
We were in my room.
I sat on the bed, patted a spot beside me.
He loves to be close to his mama.
I tickled his back-something he REALLY loves.
I could already feel his mood start to change.
He softened a bit, his body relaxed.
He looked up at me with those deep brown eyes.


"I remember when I started paying tithing.
It was hard for me to give my money away.
Paying tithing is showing Heavenly Father that we love him more than stuff.
Stuff breaks, it doesn't last."

I told him my first experiences.
I changed sprinklers all summer.
I worked hard.
I told him my experiences now.
I had just written a check for tithing that morning.
I told him about it.
Told him I could use that money to buy all kinds of things.
Told him I wanted new camera lenses, BAD.

"When I pay the Lord first,
it makes me stronger.
Makes me a better person.
I feel less greedy, and Heavenly Father blesses me for it."

I started crying at this point.
I told him about the all the good things that have happened.
I told him that I know Heavenly Father and Jesus are real.
They were watching us at that very moment.

"When my mom died
I felt their love,
when her spirit was struggling to leave her body.
It was really hard to watch that.
But I knew.
I felt so much love, during a time when it hurt so much.
They're real.
They love us.
Can we prove we love them?
Yes!
We pay tithing.
We give up we want.
Its really hard.
But it makes us good.
Less greedy.
More giving.
When you give your tithing to the Bishop your heart will feel so good.
I promise."

"Okay mom, I want to pay my tithing."

I wrapped my arms around my sweet boy.
Kissed his face...lots.
We found a tithing envelope, a slip, a pen.
I helped him write it out.
He sealed it up with a big, wet lick.
I put it in my scriptures, next to mine.

"On Sunday we'll go up together and give our tithing to the Bishop."


Sunday came.
He saw it in my scripture pouch when I was searching for my gloss.

"Mom, there's my tithing.
I can pay it today."

His smile was the story of his heart.

I taught him again.
quietly
I made sure he knew not to hold it up and show everyone.
Giving is best when its done without show.

The big hand was on the 2.
It was time.
We made our way up to the man on the stand.
The Bishop.
My BIG little boy handed his portion over to the Lord.
He gave the Bishop a solid hand.
Shook it hard.

"That's one good hand shake", he says.

Teaching Tithing?
A good way to mold a sweet boy,
into a sweet man,
and
put one big tear on a mother's cheek.

♥

My sister's thoughts could easily be my own

from my sister Sherri's blog
"So far losing myself in exercise has really helped me start to heal the HUGE whole in my heart. I have a good cry every once in while now and last night was another episode. If I look at my mom's smiling face beside my bed for my than a few seconds, the tears are sure to follow. Dangit, I miss her so much, I could just scream!! I was thinking the other day about how her death is similar to being called on a great mission. This analogy has helped me do deal. To me I picture a lot of really great people that sign up for this mission cause we all want to go. Its a great opportunity to serve and it would be an enormous accomplishment. But, there are only a few people that get chosen to go. Only the most righteous are chosen amongst the crowd. We are all trying to live our best so we can get picked. So out of the crowd my sweet, humble mother got chosen to go. This mission is a Heavenly mission that doesn't allow emails or even phone calls on mothers Day or Christmas. How I wish I could squeeze in just a few more conversations to tell her what is on my mind. This analogy helps me to realize that she is in a great place surrounded by wonderful people and that she is busy, lost in a great work that only I cannot understand. I look forward to the day when I can again kiss her sweet cheeks and feel her arms around me like all the hundreds of time before. In my mothers arms is when I feel at home. I miss that feeling and nothing can take its place. A mothers love is like no other and that is why I feel so empty.

This post started with exercise and ended with me crying. I don't know how that happens. All in all, I feel good and I know that a strong testimony and a great workout are to blame for that feeling within me."


Thanks Sherri.



♥

What's in a name?

When I was in Elementary School kids called me Kimi. Family called me Kimi Sue. Since my mom died, "Kimi" feels like home. At her funeral I saw so many people that I love and have known since my childhood, they called me Kimi. Several years ago I would've been annoyed. Not now. In fact, when Jeff calls me Kimi, I LOVE it.

Fur Elise is "Kimi" for sure. I played that song over and over while I made my sisters dance like ballerinas. I wore the song out.

"I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston is "Kimi".

Day to Night Barbie, my first Barbie, is "Kimi" too.


When I look at this picture, I think Kimi. If you notice, she is smiling. I had just told her how much I loved it when she rubbed my temples, and that I'd always remember her when it was done to me or I did it to my children. I told her how much I loved her. I told her that mothering me was one of her greatest accomplishments.


I miss her.

♥

Life goes on with new perspective.

Since my mom's death I've felt an extraordinary closeness to the spirit and I'm craving music. Good music. The last several months I've wanted so bad to carry the spirit I feel in my Sunday meetings into the week and throughout each day. There are sporadic times of stillness and peace where the spirit is felt in my heart and in my home, but I wouldn't say that it abounds. Watching my mom leave this earth has changed me in so many ways. I don't want to lose that spirit that I felt when she left. I'm finding that listening to Sunday music all week long is making a HUGE difference for me. I feel the strength of her life weaving through my own life. I have an intense desire to live a more Christ centered life.

I feel close to Heaven. Close to the Savior. Without him I would not be able to hug my mom ever again. All my life I've been taught what happens after we die. Its only until now that I've had to rely and test my faith in this principle. I KNOW it is true. I could stand on my roof top and shout it to the world that I KNOW.

Along with all of this has been the game of catch-up. Life for me, was on hold while I was by my mom's side. Unfortunately time kept ticking while my mom was dying and therefore, bills are due, cupboards had to be restocked and I had to brave Wal-Mart the day before school started to buy school supplies. I DON'T RECOMMEND IT FOR SANENESS.

Through it all there lurks an emptiness. As I drove up to my house after I had dropped the boys off on their first day of school, the thought came to me to call my mom and tell her how excited I was to have only my two girls for 8 hours!! Of coarse, I quickly remembered that mom is gone. (Devon told me that its too bad that there's no cell phones in Heaven.)

It feels unreal. The full puzzle of my life is missing a piece. My friend Tami said, "The universe feels different when your Mom is gone and you feel things that you have never felt before. It feels as if you are in a different world than before, and I suppose that in a sense you are. No one can take the place of our Mom's and there is an empty spot in our hearts, and it is OK, and we will be OK."

I will be OK. There are moments of sadness but life goes on and I have my little family to love and teach like my mom taught me. My children will know my mother because they know me. I will keep her memory alive by living the way she did. I feel a better sense of how to comfort others and want to reach out more to my friends and family. I get to wrapped up in my own life and rarely reach out.

I don't know what I would have done if it weren't for dear friends and family that sought me out and helped me through this. I've felt so much love. Thanks Marilyn and Tiffani, Angie, Missy, Noelle, Laura, Nicole, Libbie, Tara, Janene, Pat, Cheryl, Debbie, Sally, Denise, Doug, Amy, Shelli and Trevor, Judy, Kemi and Chris, Dallin and Devon- my Boys, Dennis and Sandra, DeLynn, Jeff H., Mary Ann, Sherri, and Mel, my brothers, my dad, my sweet husband. I love you all.

She's gone.

My mom passed away at 10:45 pm on Monday the 18th. I watched her take her last breath and I will never be the same. I understand now more than ever before how to mourn with those that mourn and comfort those in need of comfort. I feel empty, but full. Full of love for her, for my family, and for my Heavenly Father.

Looking back some more...

This is one of my absolute favorite pictures of my mom.

Yesterday I worked on scanning over 100 pictures so we can have a slide show at the memorial center. I'm so thankful for modern technology! Yesterday there was only one picture and now I can copy as many as I need.

She is pregnant with me in this picture.

My mom is dying.

I've rolled that sentence around in my brain. I've pondered on what this really means for me. I haven't fully grasped all the changes that will happen in my life after she's gone. The other day I sat down beside her on the couch and nestled my face into the crook of her neck. I could hardly restrain my sobs. She always smells so good and I instantly feel comforted when she holds me. My heart cried out because it hit me just how much I am going to miss her sweet smell and so much more.
This sweet woman that I've been privileged to have as a mother is withering away and I'm watching her suffer. As of yesterday, the hospice nurse thinks she only has a week left. She could hardly talk today. She can't breath very well and it seems to take to much energy to speak. She hardly eats anything and when she does she can't keep it down. For some reason she is very nauseated.

Tonight, after family prayer I explained to my kids that grandma is very close to dying and that she's not getting better. Devon, buried his head in his arms and cried. We all held each other and Whitney said, "Mommy, its going to be okay, because Grandma is going to live again, and she will be in Heaven with Jesus." (My sweet sweet baby girl. I love her.) That very thing is the reason I will get through this. There is no doubt in my mind that I will see her again. I'm so very grateful that I know this. Please pray for my family. Goodnight.