My tenderness for all things memorable has created a bit of a problem. It’s a problem I’ve kept hidden in a very large upstairs closet for years. Though this closet is out of the way it often cries out to me—“Nannette, you are a treasure saving junkie! Get a grip! Get some sanity! You may be able to hide your neurosis in a closet, but that does not make it any less of a problem.”

Now that I’m living in recovery from compulsive eating the Lord is doing some excavation work on other aspects of my life, and this is one of them. Thankfully, recovery is an ongoing phenomenon. I have heard it shared many times that those struggling with addiction are addicted to “more”—more of anything. My collection of treasures certainly bears this out.

I’m grateful I have not passed my propensity for saving on to my daughters. They seem to have a keen eye for the savable and the expendable. They also have digital cameras and know how to use them, and when the refrigerator door has no more space for one more drawing by one more budding artist they simply take some pictures and send the originals on to a better life, better for moms anyway.

Though I’ve got miles to go, I have come a far piece. I began this cleanup nearly three years ago. One of my daughters and I packed our bags and loaded a car with boxes of photos and took a weekend trip to the home of another daughter and spent a day and a night and a day doing a quick initial sort. When I returned home I kept at it. Every Monday afternoon I take a box of “scraps” down to my daughter’s house, where I can receive all the encouragement and sanity I need. Thanks to her gift for clear minded evaluation, decades of photos are almost in order, by year, in shoe boxes and ready to be scanned. All doubles and photos of trees in forests long forgotten have been thrown away. The digital age of being able to scan the photos and papers and then scrapbook on the computer may bless my life yet. Now I’m going through paper treasures I have saved for one of my sons. I don’t want to pass the mess on to him or his wife. His three boxes are becoming three orderly journals. We’ve actually had a great time skimming over our past. “By littles” my chaos is beginning to take shape. With the help of the Lord and His angels no mess is too big. No mess is too small.

I’ll never forget the first time I shared with someone just how compulsive I was with about saving treasures and what a mess I had created. I also shared with her what a crazy perfectionist I was with the use of my time. I showed her the schedule I had created for myself that frankly six Nannettes couldn’t possibly pull off. I thought my recovery friend was going to simply tell me that I was nuts, but she didn’t. She listened to me and then she said, “Nannette, you must be so precious to the Lord. I can see that you want to please Him with everything that’s in you.” I was really taken back by her comment. She was actually saying that some of my craziness has its roots in my compelling desire to do good—that the Lord knows our hearts. Knowing He loves me and understands me makes me want to “put God first” ahead of other treasures or desires, good as they may be, and allow Him to put all things in their proper place.

There is one thought that has given me courage to throw things away, and this is it. The Lord is a great keeper. All my life I have been taught that the Lord is a good forgetter. If I repent He remembers my sins “no more.” What a blessing! But, as a young mother there have been thousands of moments I wanted to somehow keep, somehow capture and never ever forget. Impossible! There is no way you can possibly capture all the good—I don’t care how good a photographer, videographer, journaler extraordinaire you are! It can’t be done. I have finally had to imagine that Heavenly Father and Jesus are also infinitely tender toward all the good—They are the first ones out with their camera snapping and videoing all the good. In fact they’ve got Heavenly technology we can’t even imagine, love for us we cannot even comprehend, and a great eye for keepsakes. If our Father in Heaven loves all His kids half as much I love the ones He lent to me, He’s chronicling not just our big milestones, but every precious step we take in the right direction. He’s like me. I’m depending on it! Anything that reminds Him of how much He treasures us is a treasure to Him.

By Nannette W. posted Wednesday, February 22, 2012

Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.

By Nannette W. Posted Friday, February 10, 2012

Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit.  This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.

One of my “grands” is a life-size 17 month old dolly.  She’s a tiny little thing.  It’s still surprising to look down at the white feathers starting to grow on her baby head and see her walking about.  She’s learning to talk and has recently started stringing words together.

Hattie doesn’t have a magical button.  This little dolly is more technologically advanced than the dollies on the shelf at Wal-Mart. She’s actually voice activated. If I sing a few words to a song she has heard several times she responds.  For example:   If I sing “Twinkle Twinkle” she sings, “little star.”  This is not really too surprising in the world of raising babies.   What is unusual is that she quickly catches on to difficult songs. We were all a bit flabbergasted the other day when her daddy sang, “We are all enlisted ‘til the conflict it o’er,” and immediately, without hesitation, she looked up at him with those heavenly blue eyes and sang out, “Happy are we, are we, are we!”

Her older cousins love to hear her perform, and she is happy to comply—“Happy are we! Happy are we!” she responds to their prompt, and the air erupts with laughter. (The cousins are as bad as me at Kohls with the piggies.)  I’ve heard the opening words to the song “We Are All Enlisted” countless times now throughout the house.  Each time I hear her sing I think, “What a great reminder!”  These words tell us that we are in this to the end and we can be happy even though life is hard—It’s full of conflict between nations and neighbors, within our communities and families, and within ourselves as we battle it out with Satan or simply wrangle with the hundreds of tough decisions that have to be made every day.  According to the song we can somehow endure happily.

One day as I heard her performing for someone, in my mind I pointed the following thought in the Lord’s direction—“I get the general message Lord, but how?  How am I to be happy throughout and until the end of all the conflict in my daily life?”  I told Him that I knew that a great part of the answer to that question lies in whether or not I pick up and use the magnificent tools of the Gospel that bring the Spirit of the Lord into every situation.   I know that when I have the Spirit with me I do find greater happiness, even in difficult situations, but was there more to be learned here?

Once again I allowed the words to run through my mind, only this time I felt the Spirit invite me to focus on the words we sing to Hattie—“We are all ENLISTED.”  In my mind’s eyes the word ENLISTED was in capital letters.  Was that my clue?  I searched my understanding for some sense of the word.  I remembered that during the Korean War my dad “enlisted” in the army to escape being drafted, and he had a great experience serving in Germany, and most recently, my youngest son has “enlisted” in the United States Air Force.  This is not exactly what I had in mind for my son. From the moment the doctor announces “It’s a boy,” I dread the thought that one day my sons might be drafted. But come to think of it, except for the two years he served the people in Uruguay on an LDS mission, I’ve never seen him more resolute and yes, happy.

Hmmm… “Drafted?”  “Enlisted?”  I got my dictionary.  To be “drafted” is “to be enrolled in the armed forces by compulsion or conscription.” To “enlist” is “to join up or sign on to the armed forces.”

That’s it!—one of the great keys to being happy!  I enlisted – on purpose! I signed up!  I’m not here having earth life, with its huge range of experiences, because I was forced or ill informed about the hard parts.  I was not drafted.  I chose.

Every day I experience some of the pain that comes from frustration, anger, sickness, sadness and disappointments over situations, some of my own making and those I am completely powerless to control. It’s tempting to imagine I’ve been forced into difficult situations by life, by people, and by God Himself!  If I dwell in self-pity, imagining that I am simply a pawn on the chess board of life, then all I want to do is something, anything, to make me feel better, something to dull the little pains and the big ones. And why would I reach out to God for help if I think He sent me into this mess against my will? Drafted! So I turn to something I can trust, something immediate—eat a little food, spend a little money, watch a little TV, take a little pill…Addiction is about doing something to make myself feel better, knowing that God can’t possibly be the answer.  My addiction is anything I turn to habitually, that’s destructive, instead of turning to God.

Today I know that my pain only multiplies with every thought that I was conscripted into this War that started in Heaven. There is actual pain relief and power to endure connected with the recognition that I enlisted in this earth life experience, that I was not compelled against my will. In Lehi’s vision He says he follows a Man in White to a dark and dreary waste.  On some days life is dark and it is dreary, but there is something really important to my ability to get through hard times in acknowledging that following Jesus Christ into this world was a decision I made.  That thought actually hastens my travels on that strait (difficult) and narrow (single file) path to the fruit that ensures joy in the battle zone.

Step 3 of recovery is to “Decide to turn my will and my life over the care of God the Eternal Father and His Son, Jesus Christ.  In essence it is to surrender to an experience in which I chose to participate.  Sometimes during hard seasons I say to myself: “Life just is not going according to my plan.”  Though that may seem true with my limited vision—there is a PLAN and I signed on!

A new recruit has recently been assigned to our family squadron, one of earth life’s newest enlistees.  His tiny feet were not even planted on earth’s soil before life became challenging.  In fact life was a challenge for him the minute he was assigned his body and for his family from the moment the doctors suggested they might be seeing signs of Down Syndrome.

As I hold my nephew in my arms, all hooked up to feeding and breathing apparatus, as I feel the rapid  pulse of his tiny heart that needs mending, I sense that his faith in the truth that he was not compelled, not drafted into this body for his earth-life experience, is very much intact. It’s the rest of us who need to keep this understanding burning in our hearts. Not only did he know what he was getting into, but so did all of us who are blessed to be a part of his life and blessed to participate in all of life.

Thanks for the reminder Hattie.  “We signed on! We chose!  We enlisted!  “Happy are we!”

By Nannette W.

Posted Thursday, February 2, 2012

Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit.  This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.

My message was short and simple.  Whether or not we have a happy new year, or not, is largely up to us.  It begins with a choice.  For me it’s not a matter of commandeering my attitude and pasting an “I will be happy” smile on my face. I want more than the look of happiness.  I want the real thing through and through. I choose it!  I want it!  And what I really want is an important part of the recipe. It’s the first ingredient.

Today I understand that my choice is not the only factor.  I literally can’t change a thing about myself—sad to happy, discouraged to cheerful, frustrated to peaceful, or angry to accepting—without the power of God.  But the truth is that He can’t change a thing about me without my permission—without my choice.   I have learned that change is a matter of my will—my choice, and His power.  I can desire happiness and I can work for it to the best of my present God given ability.  I can choose to let go of some things that stand in the way of my happiness and choose to do the things that bring happiness.

This year I “chews” to have a Happy New Year and leave the miracle to the Lord.

By Nannette W.

Posted Sunday, January 15, 2012

Copyright 2008 by Nannette W.All right reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit.  This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.

This year I think I could’ve left the tree up indefinitely or at least until the glacier of ice and snow in our front yard melts. My children all voiced to me at Sunday dinner January 4^th that this would be highly inappropriate.  I knew they were right, but I love plugging in the tree on December 26, when all the Christmas parties are over and all the gifts have been bought, wrapped, unwrapped, and taken home.  Somehow at that moment the light on the tree looks different to me. There’s almost a tangible feeling of rest in the room. I had the idea of maybe putting everything away slowly and asked my husband if he would just bring the storage boxes into the house and tuck them away in the family room.  Well, I guess hadn’t really shared with my husband my plans to enjoy the Christmas setting a little longer; I went out for a couple of hours and when I walked into the house the whole tree was down and all the decorations were stacked in neat little piles waiting for my attention.  I gave up and spent the rest of the evening boxing up Christmas. I made the best of it, but I felt like I was boxing up “peace.”

As usual it feels nice to have it all tucked away in the garage again.  And as I write I am struck with the truth that many things don’t keep forever, but Christmas does. Taking the wreath off the front door, boxing up the decorations, and throwing away the last of the goodies on the kitchen counter – Those are the things we do to declare the holiday has ended.  But, there really is no end, because Christmas is Jesus Christ.  His life and the life He has given us is never ending, everlasting.

No matter how much we wish they would, babies don’t last. This year was Mandy’s first Christmas with her first baby.  Now she’s the one with a lump in her throat as she celebrates the lasts of all the firsts.  Even the little glass birds don’t last forever. One by one they have been replaced by more durable, less delicate varieties. But Christmas lasts forever. The day after Christmas and the day after that and on and on day after day the same blessings that come to us because of the life of Jesus remain available.  Christmas is truly The Gift that keeps on giving.

When I box up Christmas I’m not boxing up the His peace, His love, His grace, His revelation or the daily tender mercies that come because of Him. He said, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you: not as the word giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid” (John 14:27).

We can endure all the things of this life that change before our very eyes, because Christ has made all the good and all the joys of this life Eternal. We Don’t Ever Have To Put Christmas Away!

By Nannette W.

Posted Friday, January 9, 2009

From Nannette’s Christmas Archives Re-posted January 6, 2012

Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit.  This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.

You can read this post by going to http://thethingsilovemost.blogspot.com/

I hope you enjoy this thought!  Happy New Year to you all!

Exhausted and touching on frantic, I completed my Christmas buying that year by going to three stores just as the 24^th sun of December was setting, trying to find that perfect, within my budget, healthy (at the request of the children) stuff to stuff in the…(well you know).  First, I flew in and out of some store with the word dollar in the name but obviously not geared for the authentic “I’ve got no money left” shopper!  Then it was on to The Dollar Store with a big finish at Kmart.

I miraculously ended the Christmas shopping within budget, but as I pulled into the garage I had a sinking feeling that what I had purchased was just not right at all.  I entered the kitchen, helloed everyone, turned on the Christmas music and declared that the holiday could now begin.  I noticed my daughters had removed the unfinished chicken, thankfully, from the crock-pot and put it into the ever-faithful oven “in hopes that the dinner soon would be there.”  (Is that a line from a famous Christmas poem?)

As I stood at the sink working toward perfection in the kitchen, I pondered, as I often do while cycling the dishes.  “Just why, Nannette, why is gift giving so completely unsettling to you? Why do you put off the thinking of, looking for, purchasing, wrapping and giving of gifts?  Why are you so “anxietous” (a family word) over every phase of this activity?  I’ll tell you why,” spoke the Messenger to my mind.  “It’s because you always want to give the perfect gift, isn’t it?  You want it to be just the right thing and there is never enough time or money or creativity or understanding to pull it off.  That’s it, isn’t it?”

Then came the instruction.  “Nannette, there is only one perfect gift and it will not matter how early you line up at Shopko the day after Thanksgiving or whether or not you have a wheel barrow full of money with which to fight off the crowds and pay at the register.  You will not be able to buy it.

Your Heavenly Father already conceived of it and His firstborn and only begotten Son already volunteered to be it and it has been offered to every one on your Christmas list!  So let go of the notion of reinventing the magnificent and allow your humble giving of the less than perfect to be a perfect reminder.  Let it bring to your philanthropic heart and near empty hands the testimony that His gift is The Gift that makes up for all lesser offerings.  There is no other gift beside Him.  Allow the contrast to be a symbol of your humble station and His abundant, priceless, perfect present.

By Nannette W.

Posted Wednesday, December 24, 2008

From Nannette’s Christmas Archives Re-posted Saturday, December 24, 2011

Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit.  This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.

“Michael’s Thanksgiving Day Prayer” – Abstinence

It was finally pie time.  So many pies! So many flavors! So many decisions! Pie with whipped cream? Pie with ice cream?  “Maybe just a little of both,” I heard someone say. The turkey and rolls started to make their way back out onto the counter, something to balance out all that pie I suppose. “Hey, who brought the eggnog and 7-Up?” questioned one of the uncles with great excitement!

The Thanksgiving Day sun was setting. The cousins were starting to get a little wound up.  My grown children, the parents, were starting to say things like, “Stop! Remember we don’t run in Grandma’s house!” and “No you may not have a fourth piece of pie!” In our family, generally speaking, the later it gets the more energy the children have. With 17 children and 21 adults we were almost outnumbered and it was time to either mesmerize them by playing The Santa Clause 1, 2, 3, and 4 videos, or for the adults to gather up all the energizer turkeys and head toward home for a long post-pie nap.

I stood at the kitchen sink visiting with my brother. “Before we leave,” he said, “I’ve got a story to tell you: This morning before driving down to your house for dinner, I gathered everyone for family prayer.  I called on Michael (age 14) to pray for the family and this is what he prayed, ‘Please bless us that we will be able to eat as much as possible without getting sick.’”

We had a good laugh.  I’ve prayed that prayer myself a thousand times. I’ve been so certain Heavenly Father would hear my prayer and grant me my wish that I’ve gone ahead and put Him to the test.  Time and time again I have hoped for a negligible outcome as I’ve taken in more food and more calories than my body has the capacity to deal with in a healthy way only to be shocked at the after pains.  Without exception I felt sick not only physically, but also emotionally and spiritually.

I don’t think you have to be a compulsive eater to relate to Michael’s prayer. In many Addiction Recovery Meetings I’ve heard participants say, “Hi, I’m _____ and I’m addicted to MORE.”  It doesn’t seem to matter if our destructive practices center around the computer, the bar, the refrigerator, the mall, or the neighborhood pharmacy, our prayer has been much like Michael’s Thanksgiving Day request.  “Dear Heavenly Father, please, just this time, grant me the miracle of indulging without consequence.”

This year I am happy to be a compulsive eater who is a grateful Thanksgiving dinner survivor, ninety-seven pounds down from my top weight, but I certainly have not finished my course work on the subject of cause and effect.  I had to smile at the Lord’s sense of humor the other night.  I started developing this little piece of writing late in the evening.  Before climbing into the covers and without thought of what I had just finished writing, I knelt at the foot of my bed and said, “Dear Heavenly Father, once again I’ve stayed up much too late. I know I should have been in bed a long time ago, but please bless me with the ability to wake up early, feeling great, and with energy to accomplish good things in the morning.” As I whispered these words Heavenward I could almost see the corners of the Lord’s mouth turn up just a bit, and with a twinkle in his eye, and His brows slightly raised. He seemed to whisper back, “Oh, I see Nannette, might you be asking for the miracle of indulging without consequence? It reminds me a of the Thanksgiving prayer of a little boy I know, ‘Please bless us that we will be able to eat as much as possible without getting sick?’”

By Nannette W.

Posted Monday, December 7, 2009

From Nannette’s Christmas Archives Re-posted December 20, 2011

Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All rights reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit.  This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.

My daughter called and related the following experience to me.  She said she might call it, “Wild Boys on the Loose,” “Irresponsible Mothers,” “Christmas Tree Festival Gone Bad,” or “So There I Was…” but her first thought after it happened, after everyone in an auditorium full of Christmas Tree Charity Cheer was staring at her and her children, was “Here’s Something For Mom To Blog About.”

Today my daughter and her children went with some friends and their children to a charity event where decorated, donated Christmas trees are on display. They remain on exhibit for several days.  Each tree is sold to the highest bidder and the money goes to charity. Things were going great in the beginning. There was a band playing. The children had a great time dancing to the music. They walked up and down all the rows of trees. She reports being pretty impressed at how good the kids were about not touching things.

The moms decided the Princess Tree was the perfect opportunity to take a picture of all their daughters.  They lined all the little ladies up in front of the Disney Christmas creation. Then one of the moms suggested that they take a picture of all the little boys in front of one of the sets of three twenty foot, attached to each other, wooden, lighted trees that stood in multiple places in the hall as decorations for the festival. As the moms focused their attention on their princess daughters their royal sons started crawling in between the wooden trees. They got them to stop, line up, and smile for the camera. My daughter’s friend turned around to tell her she had gotten a very cute picture of my grandson, TJ. My daughter looked up just in time to see that the boys had resumed their play near the wooden trees. She was about to step in and break up the nonsense when catastrophe struck! Too late!

One little fellow pushed another one, who fell against the three wooden trees. Suddenly the trees began to fall down right before their eyes. She said she was amazed by the number of thoughts she could have in the 5 seconds it took her to get over to the trees. She said that the whole thing felt like it was in slow motion.  Her first thought was, “Those trees really aren’t going to fall are they?” She pushed her friend aside and they both ran toward the disaster in progress.  In desperation she thought about running behind the scene but rethought and was glad she hadn’t!  The three wooden twenty-foot trees would have fallen on her.   In the end all they could really do was watch them crash to the ground!

She stood there shocked over what had transpired, with complete embarrassment as the crowds turned and looked on, but feeling much gratitude that no one had been hurt and that there had been no domino effect on the other trees in the building.

Finally she addressed her two-year-old son. “TJ, tell me what happened.”

“I pushed Mowoni ( Moroni ), Mowoni pushed the twees (trees), and the twees fall down.”

As my daughter finished sharing this incident with me Step 10 came to mind—“Continue to take personal inventory and when you are wrong promptly admit it.” I don’t know what it is about the Thanksgiving/Christmas season, but I seem to have more than average opportunity to practice this step at this time of year.  Maybe it has something to do with high expectations, too little money, long to-do lists, hurry, hurry, and more social gatherings than my calendar can handle.  My daughter’s experience caused me to think about the obvious nature of most of my own wrong doings.  Like crashing twenty-foot Christmas trees, my daily errors are not usually hidden out of sight or wrapped in “who’s to blame” confusion.  This season I want to stay ahead of the game and be like TJ.  When “the twee falls down” my confession should be immediate, simple, honest, and without excuse.

By Nannette W.

Posted Friday, November 28, 2008

From Nannette’s Christmas Archives Re-posted December 19, 2011

Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit.  This notice must be included on each copy made or sen

One evening, just before Christmas one year, Eliza and Ethan were working on a project at my kitchen table.  I had Christmas music playing in the background and they were singing along to the songs that were familiar to them.

In the middle of a song they both obviously found quite silly, Ethan laughed and hollered out, “Hey Liza, what if we really saw mommy kissing Santa Claus?”

Eliza’s all-knowing response was, “She’d be on the Naughty List!”

So often I think I have things all figured out too, only to find later that I am missing a critical part of the picture. In recovery we often talk about the importance of being “honest, open-minded, and willing.”  These qualities are the humble path we take that allows the Lord to fill in missing information and replace false perceptions with truth that is critical to our progress. The “ah-ha” moments that come when we are honest before the Lord and open to His mind and His will are priceless.

I imagine I am being observed by the spiritually more mature in Heaven and on the earth. I’m sure some of my childish perceptions must bring a shake of the head and knowing smile to their lips. Their reaction is probably very similar to my own.  As my grandchildren discussed the placement of their mother on the “Naughty List” (should she ever fall and give Santa a kiss), I had every hope that in time their perception would change.

Today, even though I am the oldest child on all sides, I’m OK with not knowing everything.  In recovery we “come to know” and we “come to believe.”  Progress is a process, not an event. I am learning to welcome any change in perception that helps me grow.  It makes every new day an adventure!

By Nannette W.

Posted Monday, December 1, 2008

From Nannette’s Christmas Archives Re-posted Sunday, December 18, 2011

Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit.  This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.