Homework time...Noooo!

So as one would expect, I've spent a fair amount of time involved in overseeing my children's homework. It's safe to say that it ranks right up there with swimming lessons and band booster meetings on the enjoyment scale. No offense to swim teachers, but after dragging 9 kids to what they perceived as their certain soggy death and watching from the side as they clung to the pool's edge and their teacher's necks to avoid putting their face in the lethal water. I just don't have it in me anymore. Yes, I did it, and yes they can all swim. But it was painful.  Band booster meetings speak for themselves, amiright?

The way I see it, in 3.5 short years I will never have to help with homework again. We've come so far already. According to my supremely accurate calculations I have called words for 300 spelling test practices, I have been the whip-cracker and supply supplier for 24 dioramas, I have quizzed from hundreds of study guides on American History, Georgia State History, West Virginia State History, Kansas History, Nebraska History and World History. I have practiced English vocabulary, Spanish vocabulary and Latin Vocabulary. I have explained math skills up until about 5th grade when my abilities do not equal the task at hand. (Sorry, progeny.) So what I am trying to say is my enthusiasm may be waning a bit.

A couple of Saturdays ago, my 15 year old, who's excitement for homework matches if not surpasses
mine in the negative energy level, warned me that he would be working on a paper and would need my help.  We blocked out the appropriate amount of time-10 hours for 500-700 words. This included snacks and other avoidance activities, time for whining and complaining and throwing oneself on the floor (both of us, but not simultaneously) and went to work. The only way to start an unpleasant assignment is with a grumpy attitude which we both amply provided. He started by telling me how stupid the assignment and how mean his teacher was. I driveled on with my "The only way out of it is through it," "You can do hard things," No matter what you do in life, you'll need to be able to write," "This paper won't write itself." Then we got down to business.

 After informing me of how much his English teacher hated her students and wanted them to suffer, he explained the assignment. At that moment I realized how much his English teacher loved her students and tried to make the assignment relevant and enjoyable. He was to choose a "Life Law" from a quote by which he could live. Then he was to write about an experience from his life where he learned about or demonstrated that "Life Law."

His chosen quote was, "Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime." The experience he wrote about was camping. He related how afraid he was on his first camp out. He relied solely on his dad for survival. Slowly he learned how to put up his own tent, build a fire and cook. Eventually he went on a boy scout camp out without his dad and became one of the helpers instead of just a helpee.

What began as an intense, lets-get-this-over-with, Saturday to-do, evolved into an enjoyable sharing of feelings, experiences and tips for using more words to get your count up.  I started with a high, heavy hand, but as I remembered the pressure of writing to a minimum and maximum word standard on a predetermined topic with a deadline, I empathized and softened and disclosed my dubious essay writing beginnings.  He smiled when I suggested using "will not" instead of "won't." I recanted when I remembered that English teachers spot that old trick a mile away. On his own he thought of using "less fast" instead of "slower" (that's my boy). I impressed him with my knowledge of the word counting ability on the computer. We laughed together when we discussed the difficulty of writing a proper conclusion. I confessed that I once talked a class-mate into concluding with, "I can't really think of a conclusion for this essay so 'the end." My friend received a less than stellar grade with a red pen comment by the teacher, and I have to live with the guilt into eternity.

And then it was over. Two hours down and we had a big fat check on our list. There were 8 hours of Saturday left, and I realized that this homework assignment was some of the best bonding that had happened since there were unwatched episodes of "The Flash" on Netflix.

So I guess these homework years need to be recognized for what they are; opportunities for me to work shoulder to shoulder with my children; a chance to help with what I know, commiserate with what I don't know; develop my googlizing skills, and laugh a little bit about the struggles of being human. I recognize that my best little children friends have mostly gone out the door and won't it be funny when I'm on facebook in 3.5 years saying, "I'm bored. I wish I had someone at my house that needed help with some homework."

Christmas Program 2015

My children know that my heart's desire is for them to provide a program on Christmas Eve. When we have a large group it's a large program. This Christmas we had a small group, but bless their hearts, they still came through for me. We started the evening with this show stopper: "We Are the Pirates Who Don't Do Anything"

2014 brought a new element to the Christmas program... our first ever poetry smash. We shook the dice to determine our topic assignments and then hurried to create a poem or story within the 15 minute time allotment. Here are the results:

Gabe: topic-favorite snack  

                                                            Cheese
Cheese is nice
It has the color of rice
What's so good about cheese?
It's better than bees
So you can eat and do wii
It is a snack
Good thing it's not tack
So don't act wacked
Or they'll come back

Rebecca:  topic-childhood book

                                                          A Kid's meal
Hop pop hop on pop
Make it stop make it stop

How can Mr. Brown always be goin to town?
How can Yurtle the Turtle have the crown?

There is something about the time taken to read.
A distraction before bed, it fulfills a need.

There is something soothing about a once upon a time.
There is a nourishment about the power of rhyme.

That cannot be found anywhere than a book.
A spice of this and something sweet to cook.

To make words have taste and make hearts heal.
These books have made such mindful meals

Andrew:  topic-pets

                                                    If I had a pet rock
If I had a pet rock
Extraordinary it would be
I'd never have to silence it
or take it out to pee

A pet rock can be
Quite a useful thing
You can use it as a paperweight
Or throw it with a sling

A rock is quite magnificent
I really hope you see
If you had a pet rock
Happier you would be

Dad:   topic-favorite smell

                                                  Oh the smells one can smell
As I walk in the house in the morning the smells are apparent
The sizzling of bacon is heard and the aroma as it cooks fills the air
The smell of eggs with onions, cheese and ham can also be hinted at

The smell of the crisp morning air after an extensive rain storm are apparent
As I glide to the kitchen to greet the woman of my dreams
 and draw to the clean smell of her skin,
and the fragrance of her freshly washed hair.

The fragrance is botanical-and intoxicating.

Mom:  topic-If you could teach any class, what would it be?

                                                            Warmth
I would like to teach a class on warmth-you know, gushing, sending the love, welcoming warmly, scattering sunshine, shining the light...
One of the cruelest behaviors is ignoring. If that is true one of the most generous acts is recognition. Understanding the power of a behavior that doesn't take much effort should motivate us to use our power to lift and strengthen all within our influence.
So let's remember those names-call them out with a smile. Wave enthusiastically even if we find out we don't actually know that person upon closer examination. Be a hugger. We all need more hugs than we know. Express gratitude frequently and specifically. Throw out compliments like they're going out of style-of course they never will.


As an add-on, I must include the latest installment of the Eliza-potamus series...."Emmaline-apotamus" as created and performed by Aaron, Andrew and Rebecca:

Christmas letter and picture 2015

Merry Christmas from the Stokers! It’s 2015, and all is well. Jesus Christ is our Savior. Our family has grown to 28 beautiful souls. We’re happily living in a free country practicing religion according to the dictates of our own conscience, solving problems one day at a time, and counting our blessings.

Paul works for Acella Labs. This means he has a considerable commute to Alpharetta, Monday through Thursday, but he has listened to an amazing number of books on tape. He has also been working on his drawing skills (mostly during church) and of course his tennis serve (not during church). Paul has added something new to his portfolio this year. He’s been singing in the church choir (just for me). He doesn’t have experience singing harmony but has excellent pitch. As long as there’s someone sitting close to him in his section (tenor), he’s definitely an asset. He still makes delicious rolls. This is actually the best food our family has to offer, so the Stokers are usually asked to provide rolls when it’s food assignment time. Yay for me.

Since September, I have only had 1 child living at home. I remember when I first started this motherhood journey, I would dream about the things I would do when I got my life back. Now, I wonder what life I was talking about. There isn’t really anything I enjoy more than being with my children. Of course they don’t cry as much as they used to, but to tell the truth, it can be excruciatingly quiet around here. Thankfully, I still teach seminary. I substitute in the schools about once a month. That’s all I need to help me maintain an enormous respect for the intense responsibility teachers have. Substituting doesn’t pay much, but sometimes a sweet student will draw me a picture or give me a hug and that makes it worth it. Other times… it’s my service to the community.

Miss Rebecca went to college this year. I’ve almost recovered from the loss. She’s happy that she’s now 18. Being only 17 for the first few months of the school year gave her friends a lot to tease her about. “What are you doing at this meeting, Rebecca? It’s for adults.” But now she can vote and take herself to the doctor. She loves everything about BYU, except Calculus which she doesn’t have to worry about anymore (she dropped it), and American Heritage which she won’t have to worry about when the semester ends. She takes good care of her mother and sends me pictures and posts on Facebook and calls me a couple of times a week to tell me stories. She cooks food, does laundry and cleans and grocery shops. She’s a great little adult.

Gabe is in 9^th grade. He says he has senioritis. It could be a long 4 years for this guy, but I’m proud of him. He comes home from school every day and does his homework and practices his instrument. He doesn’t like it, but he does it. I’ll call that a win. Gabe’s in my seminary class this year. Someone asked him how he likes it. He said, “It’s okay.” In Gabe-speak that’s very high praise indeed. He has some victories to report. He beat his Perplexus puzzle. He won the Strikers Wii game, and he can play “Joy to the World” on the piano.

The other children are scattered all around the country doing good things:

Daniel, Erica, Caleb and Landon live in St. Louis, not far from Erica’s family. Daniel flies for Delta and the USAF Reserves.

Brandon, Mallory, Annabelle, Josh, Isaac, and Eli live in Portland. Brandon still works for and loves Nike.

Nathan, Ariane and brand-new Caden live in Houston. Ariane works as a Physical Therapist part-time and Nathan graduates in May when he’s hoping to get into a pediatrics residency program.

Aaron, Clarissa and Lucy still live in Las Vegas with one more year down in Dental school.

Jacob, Alexa and Isla live in Sacramento, very near Alexa’s parents, as in upstairs. Jacob started Medical school in August.

Eliza, Joseph, Hyrum and 2 month-old Emmaline are in their 3^rd year of Dental school in Omaha.

Andrew studies at UVU in Orem, UT.

Look who's here! It's Caden!

This awesome little Texan was born on November 4, 2015.  His Grammy Black and Aunt Alanna and cousin Jocelyn met him first. They had a wonderful time playing and rocking and taking pictures and celebrating the happiness.

On Tuesday of this week, (Thanksgiving week) Gabe and I headed to Houston to give thanks.  It was a nice 12 hour drive. We drove through Auburn, Alabama, "War Eagle" or is that "Roll Tide?"This is actually the week of the Iron Bowl. so there was a lot of football energy reverberating onto the highway as we passed.

Travelling on I-10, the only highway to travel on in the winter, is fun for a California girl. I think to myself, "Hey look, it's Mobile, Alabama. Wow, I'm in Mississippi. Louisiana, I wonder if there are gators in that swamp? Baton Rouge, Who ever thought I'd be driving through Baton Rouge?" And on and on until I drive into Houston, TX where I remember that "Everything's bigger in TX." Mostly, there's a lot of flat land, but I'm sure it's awesome flat land. And then we landed at a special place. The place where Caden lives with his fantastic mommy and daddy.

My day of  driving was rewarded with some snuggling time with little guy. Another reward was to watch my son with his son. Such joy and pride and adoring and happiness. I watched him watch his wife and baby and saw that his heart was all tied up in that beautiful sight.

This little family reminded me how thankful I am that God sent me 9 babies so they could bless me as small children and then bless me again as they start their own families. The love just doesn't end. It grows and grows.

On Wednesday Paul flew in to join the Caden party. Grandpa thought Caden would enjoy The Hunger Games so he took us all to what I believe was Caden's first movie. He was a great date. He just hung out with his mom and dad quietly throughout the whole show. Then we ate Mexican food because Wed. is 1/2 price fajita night. We didn't feed it to the baby directly, but indirectly we contributed to what I'm sure will be a long life of salsa consumption.

Ariane and Nathan have a million skills; cooking, crafts, academics, sports, music... but one of the most enviable to me is that they are very organized. I learned a lot about running a household from them. The white plastic grocery bags are stored in a clorox disinfectant wipes container. When the container is full, that's all the bags you get. No saving millions of bags that explode out of the food closet every time it's opened. The brown plastic bags are folded into little school footballs. You know what I mean, the triangles. They are stored neatly in the baby's drawer at the ready for stinky diaper disposal. Baby supplies and diapers are stored in decorative containers over the changing table. The baby station supplies that need to be in the living room are stored in pockets in the rocking chair.

When it was time to decorate for Christmas, 2 boxes were brought out. The tree was trimmed and the nativities and crafty Christmas decorations were displayed in all of 30 minutes. When I thought of the 2 days it took to get my Christmas decoration act together I almost cried.

One might think that cooking Thanksgiving dinner in an apartment with 6 people, including a new mom and baby, might be overwhelming. That problem was solved by purchasing rotisserie chickens that frankly did not disappoint. We still had potatoes, gravy, (delicious from a mix) cranberry fluff, rolls, (one of Paul's super powers) Stovetop stuffing, and Marie Callender's razzleberry pie. And of course, Gabe's favorite part of the meal--cranberry juice and Sprite. It was delicious, and I'm definitely rethinking the turkey tradition.

Pi on the pie. Okay, they're a little nerdy at this house.

Friday was our outing day. Nathan is almost finished with medical school and we had never seen where he has spent the last 3.5 years. It was fun to tour a medical center from the perspective of a student mom as opposed to a patient mom---sooo much less stressful. Maybe I should have been more stressed for my student son, but he's almost done so yay. I did get a little queasy at some of the informative posters such as identifying an abnormal nodule on a thyroid and how to properly perform a tracheotomy. But Paul thought it was very cool.

In the afternoon we decided to take Caden to the USS Texas so he could tour a battle ship and learn about being in the navy in World War I and II. Once again, he loved his outing. His dad took him up and down the stairs and the sea breeze blew and he was a champ. Ariane and Nathan secured us a tour guide even though there weren't supposed to be any official tours on that day. Paul asked a lot of questions and was so excited to find out more that I couldn't help but learn something, like the sailors were in battle station for 52 days. That meant no one left their gun room for almost 2 months. I won't ever forget that fact, and I'm thankful for their service.

Ben Affleck's bunk in Pearl Harbor.

Friday night was time to relax. We watched the ever popular Muppet Christmas Carol  and drank wassail.I The script actually stayed close to the book plus there was some great music. Okay, I'm not a fan of Miss Piggy, but she kept a low profile so the movie was enjoyable and very Christmasy, and I slaved with the baby while we watched :)

So now we're ready for the Christmas season where we celebrate the birth of our Savior, that through him all mankind may be saved and families will be together forever. I'm thankful for each dear person in my family. I'm thankful for their imperfections that help me see my imperfections. I'm thankful for their gifts that bless my life and make me proud. Not only is it a privilege to know and love them, but because of loving them, I am changing into a new and better person. I'm thankful that they have married wonderful spouses and have homes full of love and devotion. I'm blessed to have each little new one that has expanded my heart and filled the world with more love. All this, because of God's love for each of us, his children, and the precious gift of His Son, our Redeemer.

Let the celebration begin.

Crocheting: a tutorial on life.

When I was a little girl, spending time at Grandma Miller's, one of the skills she would attempt to teach me was crocheting. I dreamed of the day I would be able to crochet my own doilies for my own table with my own vase of flowers on top.

 We started learning with yarn. Grandma would create the slip knot, and I would begin my chain stitch. Some were too tight, some were too loose, but no matter, I was doing it! Then she showed me how to go back and make double stitches and triple stitches. I held the yarn in my fingers just so and went in and out with my crochet hook. Somehow, my project didn't always look like Grandma's. Did it really matter which hole I put my hook into? One loop seemed as good as any so if I lost this one I'd use that one. When Grandma came back to check on my work she would identify the problem areas and suggest I pull it out to the point of the error and then start again.  Noooo! The agony of wasted work was more than I could bear. I was all for just moving on. I justified that "no one would notice" and continued to the end. When my work was finished, and I really considered the pattern created by my time spent, I had to admit, my mistakes were definitely noticeable and obviously interrupted the pattern I was trying to achieve. The project was not acceptable. Failing to right my wrongs was not acceptable. I continued to try, but since repentance was hard I tried perfection. Well, as anyone who tries to live a perfect life knows, I was always frustrated because I was never perfect. Besides that, this was all taking way too long. I wanted to be good at crocheting much sooner than was happening, so I quit. That's right, I quit before practice made crocheting easy, and the need for the re-do became much less frequent. and the desire for a quality outcome became greater than my aversion to starting over. I learned as much as my impatience would allow, but not as much I could have had I perservered and humility and desire.

Fast forward to Wednesday night. My friend is in charge of achievement days for the 8-11 year old girls at church. She wanted to teach them how to crochet a trim on a burp cloth for newborns. She called on all women who were free during the hour to help give the girls the one-on-one help they needed. I was not unrealistic about how much help I could be, but I was free that hour and thanks to Grandma, it was not as if I'd never crocheted in my life.

In came the little girls, full of enthusiasm and confidence. The needles and thread were distributed. Okay, I did hyperventilate a little when I saw it was thread, not yarn, but I remembered my doily dream and got excited. I listened to the instructions and then realized that I needed to be shown again. I was the person that was actually supposed to be helping, but no. "Could you show that to me one more time? Could you turn a little bit so I know which hand you're using?"  After monopolizing the instructor's time and attention for as long as I could, I understood enough to help my adorable 10 year old apprentice at least get started.

I was pleased to see that she was ready to go. Her face was full of determination and desire and hope. I showed her how to make the slip knot. (I had at least retained that.) She picked up the burp cloth and the crochet hook and the thread. Well that was definitely too much to hold at once. I decided I could help her best if I held the burp cloth so she could conquer needle and thread. As one could predict for a first time experience there was lots of dropping the loop, failed attempts at finding the right hole, and tension problems, At one point, my wisdom from many years of experience suggested that we throw the entire project across the room and never pick up a crochet needle again and have a nice doughnut, but cute 10 yr. old never wavered. Eyes fixed on her task she continued on.

 After 45 minutes she observed, "It's getting easier." It was true, each inch of progress yielded more accuracy and less disappointment. I was amazed at the determined strength of this little girl. As I looked around the room I saw other little girls with the same fixed resolution to succeed as they concentrated and pressed forward. It occurred to me that I was in the presence of greatness. This idea was confirmed when cute girl shared that  every day she makes a list of her goals and puts them on a poster by her bed.

So just learn a little from my young friends. We must not give up. We must be patient with ourselves and allow our abilities to catch up with our dreams through work and repetition and commitment, and know that our future is in good hands, hands that don't give up, that are patient and persevering, and focused and hopeful and ready to serve.

Grandma goes to Omaha aka the baby+ toddler battle front.

Another little cutie baby came to our family this month. Her name is Emmaline Elizabeth Erickson. She's my 10th grandchild. Gabe's music teacher asked me if it's still exciting. My honest answer was that each new person is as amazing as the first. More posterity, more love, more life, more goodness. So, being a blessed Grandma, off I went to visit the goodness. When I go to help a new mother I don't pack much in my suitcase. I never need any nice clothes. I take 2 pair of yoga pants, 3 short sleeve tees, 3 long sleeve tees, some comfortable walking shoes and a toothbrush. I mean who are we kidding? Baby/toddler bliss includes sloppy kisses, sticky hugs, floor sitting, delicious little new people that are practicing their food processing, and lots of walking and bouncing.

My life-long friend, Joyce, who used to help me rock my own babies, picked me up from the airport and drove me to my daughter's house.  Joyce took the toddler and I took the baby and my daughter was excused for a shower. With 3 adults, we had the 2 children handled, no problem. But then Joyce had to go and there were only the two of us and that wasn't quite enough. We had to step up our game. Luckily, with baby #2, at least my daughter didn't need to learn how to nurse, just the baby.  This shortened the learning curve considerably, so there was definite victory in the baby corner.

However, the smart and wonderful 20 month-old was moving at lightning speed in his mind and body, and it was a stretch for me to keep up. Out of the dusty corners of my mind I was trying to pull out children's songs that were relevant to the moment. You have a bus? "The wheels on the bus..." Oh look a train, "Little Red Caboose..." What does the duck say? "When ducks get up in the morning..." You want to go to the park? Let's get our shoes on. You want to swing? You want to swing higher? You're done swinging? You want to climb over the fence? Did you know that we can just walk around it? You still want to climb over it? That's cool. And then Dad came home and we had the perfect 3 adults to 2 children ratio again.

Toddler went to bed at a beautiful 7:00 bedtime. Baby girl was performing top notch with her nursing and sleeping so the evening was spent recouping and preparing for the next day. I'm pretty sure I went to bed at 8:30. A grandma needs her beauty rest. Actually, beauty shmeauty--I was beat.

I had the advantage of being from the eastern time zone so when the bright and amazing toddler started bouncing in his bed at 5:30 I was at least awake.  I hadn't necessarily planned on being out of bed, but I was flexible. I thought if I brought him into my room and I kept the light off and sang songs, he would relax and rest a while longer. That was a good one. He did enjoy the songs, but he was a little confused with the darkness and put his sweet little hands on my face to make sure I was "Maya". Later I found out the rule is he can't get out of bed until 6:00 am. Good rule.

It wasn't getting any earlier so we went downstairs for breakfast. This family eats a lot of whole foods which I admire, but I usually just pass out the cereal at breakfast time. I'm game for healthy eating so I made the oatmeal and stirred in the frozen blueberries. All was well until I poured a little too much milk which resulted in soupy oatmeal. Toddler doesn't like anyone helping him with his spoon so we definitely had a recipe for disaster. Well lets be real. Food messes aren't a disaster. War, earthquakes, drug addictions-those are disaster. We were just headed for some inconvenience. There was some successful capture of blueberries and then some dribbling of sticky oatmeal on the unbibbed pajamas (sensory issues). Then there was the decided doneness which involved dumping and pouring. This scenario is not new to any mother, it just seems so vivid going through it after a few years of eating with adults.

Morning activities included washing dishes, drawing, and making a track for the train out of paper. I felt pretty good about these activities until I realized it was only 8:00 am. When do we develop our sit around and waste time skills? Not early enough. Toddlers have much to learn from Grandmas.

Speaking of learning, one of the most excruciating lessons first-borns have to learn is that they are not the only person in the world. There they are, living the good life with Mom and Dad all to themselves and then along comes a baby. It's fine when baby's tucked quietly in Mommy's tummy, but then she come out to stay with her cuteness and neediness and littleness. Mom is feeding her when it's time for books, Mom is carrying her when it's time to swing. Toddler just wants to have fun with Mom, but there's a diaper to change. Daddy wants to hold the baby when he gets home from work. It's rough.  This problem is solved by taking a teeny bite of the baby's finger or picking up the baby to show Mom who's the strongest or grabbing the end of the baby's swaddle wrap and pulling hard so the baby unwraps. (That was actually hilarious.) Being a first born I empathize, but it's all for the cause, the Eternal cause, and the sooner a person gives up the idea of being the favorite, the nicer they are to be around, and the happier they feel.

I had a lovely week. I'm so proud of my children, and my grandchildren are beautiful. But here's the truth. Moms and Dads of babies and toddlers are warriors. They don't get enough sleep. They are constantly sacrificing for others. They put duty over pleasure a thousand times a day. It's a loud, dirty, stressful job and they do it. They do it until the battle's over. And the battle is over when all their children and their children's children are safe--safe from sickness, safe from danger, safe from evil and sadness and pain. I guess that means as long as they live.

The Old Testament becomes new.

2015 is my 3rd time teaching the Old Testament in seminary. And guess what? I'm learning a lot. This past week has been glorious as we've been studying my all time favorite Bible hero-Joseph of Egypt. Isn't he just the greatest? For one thing, while his brothers are dealing with morality issues i.e. Reuben and Bilhah, Judah and Tamar, and their anger problems: Levi and Simeon  Joseph chooses to be a champion temptation resistor.  When Potipher's wife presents him with a bad option, he, of course flees. So, Joseph is already on my good side. But what really inspires me is the way he processes.

Today in seminary, the assigned exercise was to have the students consider their future plans in the following areas: School/Education; Occupation; Accomplishments; Church and Family.We talked about it a little and they shared their lofty educational and occupational goals. (Probably 80% want to be some kind of doctor.) Then we considered how Joseph would have completed the assignment. We're pretty sure he didn't list being sold by his jealous brothers into slavery and spending 14 years in prison in Egypt as his educational goal. How could he have imagined his position as being 2nd only to Pharoah as his occupation? And yet, that's how it went down. It's important to make plans, but the take away for me is to be open to and seek to know God's plans because they will be a lot more amazing than mine.

Like Joseph, I want to process the development of God's better plans with more courage and faith and hope. When Joseph was cast into prison, he didn't sit in the corner and pout. He didn't isolate himself because all hope was lost and he didn't like to associate with prisoners. He prayed and followed God and developed relationships  and improved. Mostly Joseph learned to listen to the Lord's voice, so when someone needed him to interpret what God's message was, he could do it. When he was given the opportunity to lead, he was ready because he didn't wait for conditions to be perfect. He and God used imperfect conditions to educate and learn and become.

And my favorite lesson taught by my favorite character is to come through the trials without bitterness and ill will and anger and doubt. He beautifully perceived that his brother's selling him into Egypt was the Lord's way of preserving their family. He freely forgave them and rejoiced in his reunion with them.

How much time do I waste replaying injustices in my mind, when I could be looking for the Lord's hand, learning to hear his voice, and preparing to serve in meaningful ways?

Thanks, Joseph, son of Jacob, for showing me faith, love, courage, hope, obedience and forgiveness. Maybe I can be a little more like you today.