I've been helping my dad with his Christmas card this year. (He's learned how to google, but he's afraid to print anything unless I'm sitting right next to him. It's really cute.)
So as 150 cards have been emerging from my desktop printer this week, I've been thinking a lot about my parents and siblings.
I grew up as the seventh of eight children, and I was so happy to be a part of a large family.
I remember sitting next to my dad in church when I was five, and to keep me quiet and happy, he would draw 10 smiley faces on the back of the program. Then we would label them together:
Dad, Mom, Bobby, Linda, Susan, Laura, Lisa, Page, April, and Ryan.
With so many people looking out for me, I always felt safe, loved, and part of something really special.
This is from my mom and dad's wedding in 1958:
And this is the family photo we took the day before the first child (my brother Robert) got married.
(That's me in the bottom left corner--8 years old.)
And then this is the photo from May, when the 8th child (Ryan) got married, and all ten of us were there with our spouses:
It's amazing for me to see the family they have created over the years. This is exactly what they always wanted, and when I looked at my dad's face as his eighth child got married, I couldn't help but get choked up. This was his dream, and he and my mom have been working hard for 54 years to make it happen.
The scripture that really stood out to me this morning is "be not weary in well-doing, for ye are laying the foundation of a great work. And out of small things proceedeth that which is great."(D&C 64:33)
I can't even tell you how much that means to me.
There have been lots of sweet, fun, happy moments around here lately, and Eric and I are closer than we've ever been.
However, there are certainly times when I do feel weary, and it often seems like everything I do is small.
But feeling weary is a choice, and it's the small things that grow into the great things.
I know there were times when my parents were tired and couldn't necessarily see the fruits of their labors. They worked hard to support us every single day, and we gave them plenty to complain about. But they didn't give up (and they didn't even complain) because they had a vision of what they were creating.
Today, as I get my children ready for school, do the laundry, return our overdue library books, catch up on emails, and complete dozens of tasks that are waiting for me, I'm going to keep my eye on the vision and remember that these small things are simply part of of a foundation for beautiful things to come.
What thoughts help you to keep you eye on the vision?