Season for Family

A community of women finding time for family connections.

Our Life Line

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Amy Miles and Family

I am the LAST person that a year ago would have thought I’d be loving family history with my whole heart. One year ago we were fresh off the heels of trauma.

The business my husband worked for & had just moved to Colorado for went under and we didn’t have a paycheck for months. Searching for a job was turning up absolutely nothing.

My husband had fallen hard on some ice that resulted in a serious concussion which led us to get a brain scan that found he had a deep-seated brain aneurysm that was unrelated to his fall.

Just weeks after this, on our way home to Colorado, our family along with our F250 truck slid off a 1000 ft. mountain cliff and were stopped only 30 feet down by an aspen tree & some heavenly assistance. Our family survived while our truck did not.

The next week we found employment!! … in Utah and one month later we landed here to start our new life.

I need to tell you here that I was barely holding things together. I felt like I was called to wade into a stormy sea & kept getting hit with waves. Each time I’d get up and catch my breath, another wave with more power and intensity would knock me off my feet, throw me into the washing machine cycle and then spit me out with sand in all the wrong places, coughing up water and sand, and gasping for air. I realize that sounds a little dramatic. But I felt like life had chewed us up and spit us out.

I had been praying for help to know how I could get my life back and figured a home improvement project would be it. I opened my Lightkeepers book for the first time & the quote with Elder Renlund’s promise about family history and temple work jumped off the page:

“You will find not only protection from the temptation and ills of the world, but you will also find personal power—power to change, power to repent, power to learn, power to be sanctified, and power to turn the hearts of your family members to each other and heal that which needs healing.”

● He promised we’d find “power

● to turn the hearts of our family together

● and heal that which needs healing.” This promise hit me with such force. As I read the words, the spirit told me: “This is your project. This will heal you.” So I pledged to figure out family history -as soon as I’d moved my family to Utah.

Once we moved to Utah a set of new challenges arose: the Utah inversion- for this Arizona girl, new job & schools, a strict budget, worries for my husband’s health, longer term effects of his concussion, and serious mom guilt over moving my kids. Again, and moving my senior for the second time this school year. Life seemed void of hope. Void of light. Even void of sleep. Garrett and I were still experiencing Post Traumatic Stress waking up in a cold sweat around 3 each morning since falling off the mountain. We were walking around in the same bodies but everything somehow seemed hollow and empty. Life moved on and we had to move along with it. It was difficult to keep up with what was expected just to run a home & run a family.

Two weeks after moving here, I was somewhat settled, and was listening to a conference talk while making breakfast. The spirit reminded me that I pledged to start family history. Panic seized my heart. Why did I promise to do that? How on earth do I do that?? It seemed an elephant of a project to take on. But how do you eat an elephant? One bite at a time. Family history is a spiritual work.

Since last February I took small & simple steps doing what I knew how to do and as the spirit directed when I’d ask, “what next?

I started by reading the family book I’d had kicking around for years . I took a photo with my phone of short excerpts that would strengthen my own family and texted them to my kids periodically. I knew they wouldn’t pick up a 500 page book, but they would read a text.

I became familiar with and use regularly the FamilySearch mobile app, the task feature became my favorite tool ever, which we will jump into soon

I shared with family how to read & add a story in memories. While I cooked dinner I’d ask my teens to jump on & find or add a story then share it at dinner.

I continued asking “what next” and acting. In April I was sick & got stress cold sores. I found myself a doctor & while waiting for him to come in, I read the poster about mental health. I was astonished to realize I was experiencing each one of the symptoms. I told the doctor what had recently happened & how I was waiting to feel normal again. He listened and we decided to put me on a low dose of depression medication.

As a family we were mindful & prayerful about how to incorporate little bits of family history into our life. And we found that with just a few simple tweaks, it went along with what we were already doing.

I had the joy of:

•finding my first ancestor who needed her work done, and since then have discovered numerous ancestors and am still working on their saving ordinances.

•I have upped my temple attendance considerably because of the sheer volume of people that are waiting for their temple work. And that in turn has enriched my life.

•I am happier than I ever have been.

•I enjoy clarity and peace that are constant and help me see life, people, and challenges through a heavenly lens.

I share to show just how different a life can look in one year when we ask what next, trust the Lord’s guidance and His promises and then act. Everyone’s journey will look different. My husband still has the brain aneurysm. Turns out his particular case is very unique. We have even changed employment again. My situation has not changed completely, but my perspective has. My family is closer. We are happier. We feel the spirit in our home frequently. And my home now feels like it’s filled with LIGHT. As I shared this write-up with my 18 year old daughter, she nodded at each sentence. She sees it. She feels it. We are far from perfect, but we are being sanctified through this great work.

Elder Renlund promised: God will strengthen, help, and uphold us; and He will sanctify to us our deepest distress. Family History has been my life line. Truly and literally. As I engaged in it, slowly, slowly, I began to breathe a little more, to feel again, to live again. Heavenly Father knew what I needed to do to heal that which needed healing.

Written by: Amy Miles // IG: @sorellamy

Hearts Around the World Project—Belgian Woman

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“In the future, women, rather than men will be the ones to change the world.” ~ Malala Yousafzai

A couple years ago I had this idea for Hearts Around the World Project after reading so many stories about my ancestors—particularly women. These ancestors, who were amazing, normal, ordinary people, who had extraordinary lives. They went through so many trials, and heartache, triumph and love, yet their stories had been forgotten. These ancestors chose to be brave, vulnerable and had to make hard choices, things I don’t think I could make. I love what Brene Brown says about vulnerability.

“Vulnerability is not winning or losing; it’s having the courage to show up and be seen when we have no control over the outcome. Vulnerability is not weakness; it is our greatest measure of courage.” That’s what these ancestors are to me, courageous.

As I learned more about some amazing women in my family tree, I found that my ancestors had similarities with myself, my sister, my mom, my grandmother. I realized that we may be from a different time and place, but we are all similar. We all want love, happiness and peace. We all have a story to tell. We don’t always realize it, but we can all learn from one another, support one another and grow and blossom. 

Stories have been around from the beginning of time, we are all drawn to stories in one way or another. I began searching for women from all over the world who had a story to tell. I asked family and friends and I was amazed at the willingness of people who I got to know through this project. When I started, I thought that I would share a few good stories, that I would help that person share their story and maybe heal a little bit. I thought a few women would be able to relate and that was it. What I didn’t realize is that it would change me. I was impacted by these women and their stories. Each woman that I talked with, taught me something. I may not relate to their experiences, but I understood the emotions and learned from them more than I could have imagined. I feel such a love and respect for these beautiful women, they became my friends.  

Michele was the only person that I was able to meet in person. She was from Vietnam and France, but came over to the U.S. as a young woman. Michele invited me to her home, and it has become one of the most emotional and beautiful experiences of my life. Michele taught me about bravery and courage. She never was a victim, but a survivor. I loved learning about Michele’s courage that she has shown throughout her life. 

Claudia became a friend immediately. We live over 5,000 miles apart, myself in Utah and Claudia in Romania, but we were connected. I may not go through the same things she goes through, but I am a mother as well. I have watched her pure love of a mother get her through the hard times. She is such an example to me. 

Celia is a beautiful mother and grandmother. She lives in Hong Kong and we didn’t even speak the same language, but her daughter translated my questions and her answers. Celia showed me her beauty and grace. It took many trials, but she learned how to love herself and know that her Heavenly Father loves her too. 

These women are strong, brave, loving, beautiful, courageous women. I am a better person for knowing their stories. I love what Dennis B. Neuenschwander said about why are stories are so important to our descendants. “A life that is not documented is a life that within a generation or two will largely be lost to memory. What a tragedy this can be in the history of a family. Knowledge of our ancestors shapes us and instills within us values that give direction and meaning to our lives.” 

A year ago, I went to Europe with my sister, I wasn’t sure why I needed to go, but I felt this need to go, there was a purpose for me. We spent time in France, Belgium, and The Netherlands. In each place we met many people, and each left a little piece of themselves with me. As I got to know different people, without prompting each person shared a little bit of their story and why they were there. I even learned more about my purpose for the trip as I shared with strangers who I was and my own story. 

There was a woman we met, who I will never forget. I call her the Belgian Woman. I never knew her name, in-fact, we couldn’t even understand each other—we spoke different languages. We were walking in a busy touristy part of Brussels, the world seemed to be bustling around her and she stood frozen in time.

When I first saw her, I felt sorry for her, she appeared to be a beggar on the street. We saw many people in France and Belgium who were asking for money and it’s hard to know if they are really in need or just trying to get easy money. When I saw her, I didn’t care the reason, she had a light and I wanted to help her. She held a cup in one hand and a cane in the other. This Belgian woman wore a hijab on her head and wore a button-down green coat. It wasn’t what she was wearing that drew me in, it was her smile. Her skin weathered from time, but her eyes sparkled. I was just drawn to her.

As we walked toward her, I held out my money and gave it to her. The coins gave a loud cling as the bounced inside the cup. She put her cane in her other hand. Without speaking words, she said thank you as she held her hand against her heart.

I held up my camera questioning if I could take a picture of her. She nodded and smiled again. My sister gave her more money as I took a couple pictures of her. Again, she held her hand to her heart and bowed her head in thanks. After my camera dropped against my chest, I gave her some more money. My heart was full. 

We saw her again in the same place the next day. I don’t know her story, I have no idea what she does with the money she is given, but I knew how she made me feel. Not how I felt after I gave her money, but how her smile made me feel. I felt her love and peace. I know that she has had experiences that I may never go through or understand. We don’t always know what is true and what is just perceived by our own thoughts and ideas about someone. However, together we can love, forgive, and help each other. “I alone cannot change the world, but I can cast a stone across the water to create many ripples.” Mother Teresa was so right when she said that. Our stories are important and need to be told. We can help one another by sharing our stories and listening to others. We can learn from each other. What story do you want told about you? Do you want to be the storyteller of your own life?  

I’m so excited to share Hearts Around the World Project with Season For Family. It’s been such a special experience for me, and I think our stories are important. I hope that some of these stories can help others as much as they have impacted my own life. 

“We are mosaics—pieces of light, love, history, stars—glued together with magic and music and words.” ~Anita Krishan 

DANI OLDROYD

roots2blossoms.com
IG: @roots2blossoms

Letters: Preserving our words

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Woman Looking At Letter In Keepsake Box On Desk

Recently we were packing up some things in our home and I came across some letters and notes that my husband and I had written to each other when we were dating and first married. I found myself tearful as I remembered those sweet time we had together; just the two of us. I found myself falling in love all over again. I was so grateful I had preserved these special memories to visit again and again.

This Sunday for #familyhistoryonthesabbath, I encourage you to take some time to find old letters, cards, or even journals to read or share with your family. Maybe you have a letter from your grandma when you were a child, an old birthday card, old e-mails stored on your e-mail account, love notes, missionary letters, or if you are lucky letters written from ancestors.

Get them out! Read through them! How can you preserve these letters for the next generation? When I was a teenager I glued all the letters and cards I had saved (starting at my baptism) into a large notebook with blank pages. When I was feeling down or struggling I would read through them and remember how much I was loved and all the good that people saw in me.

Now, get out some new paper and write your own letters as a family! Sunday is the perfect day to connect with those you love. Who in your family needs to hear from you? Who might be lonely or struggling? What grandparents need a sweet picture and note from a grandchild to hang on their fridge? What child needs to hear how much you love them?

Don’t let these precious memories and feelings get forgotten! Family history is about connecting with our family; past and present.

When have the written words of others blessed your life or your families?


Remember, every week we will share a simple idea for bringing family history into your home on the Sabbath day. If you have ideas that you would like us to share, tag @seasonforfamily in your post and use the hashtag #familyhistoryonthesabbath If you have a private account, screenshot your post and send it to us, or simply message us what you are doing and we will share your message!

KAYLA BERRETT

IG: @kaylaberrett