Can You Feel So Now?

It’s my favorite time of year.

The days are getting longer.

My morning run is a lot brighter these days.

My morning run is a lot brighter these days.

There are colorful pots of joy all around my yard.

Happy!

Happy!

The citrus trees are starting to bloom.

Trust me when I say you wish you could smell this.

Trust me when I say you wish you could smell this.

Soon, we will be celebrating Easter–which is pretty much my favorite holiday (even though I love Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, and I usually do a lot more to celebrate them with my kids) it is Easter that brings me hope and joy. And I love that Easter is a holiday completely centered on Christ.

Now…before I go on too much about Easter, another thing I LOVEEEE about this time of year is General Conference.

In case you are not familiar with General Conference, once every six months, we in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints have a meeting where we hear from the Living Prophet, 12 apostles, and other leaders of our church. For me, General Conference is always just what I need to get through the next six months.

I have a few thoughts about two talks.

In Quentin L. Cook’s talk, he asks the question posed by Alma in the Book of Mormon:

“And now behold, I say unto you, my brethren, if ye have experienced a change of heart, and if ye have felt to sing the song of redeeming love, I would ask, can ye feel so now?” – Alma 5:26

I have been thinking about this question because, to be honest, I’ve been in a little bit of a funk lately. Sometimes, when I’m having depressing thoughts, it effects me in such a way that I begin to question everything: the purpose of my life (as in where I’m headed in life), my faith, and my testimony…Obviously, this isn’t good.

here’s the thing.

I have experienced a change of heart

My change of heart didn’t happen in one amazing or startling moment. Over time, my heart has changed. It has shifted toward the Lord. I can see that I’ve grown closer to the Lord over time. I was baptized when I was eight. My testimony has grown a lot since then, but I still have the same feeling about God that I did then. I know that He loves me. I know that I matter to Him. I know that I want to please Him.

Though there are times when I give in to many of my natural desires and weakness, I know where my heart is. I want to please the Lord. I want to bring him happiness and glory through my good decisions because I have felt so much love and blessings from Him.

I have felt to sing the song of redeeming love

Yes. This joy is also something I’ve experienced.

I have felt it when I look in the eyes of my children, and I see how much the Lord has blessed me–even though I, in no way, deserve it.

I have felt to sing the song of redeeming love when I have sinned, then repented, and have been forgiven. I know what that kind of deep, abiding joy is. I know that this is a miraculous feeling.

Sometimes I feel it [that love] and sometimes I don’t…Why???

When we can’t feel to sing the song of redeeming love anymore, Elder Cook suggests the possible reasons why:

“Many who are in a spiritual drought and lack commitment have not necessarily been involved in major sins or transgressions, but they have made unwise choices. Some are casual in their observance of sacred covenants. Others spend most of their time giving first-class devotion to lesser causes. Some allow intense cultural or political views to weaken their allegiance to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Some have immersed themselves in Internet materials that magnify, exaggerate, and, in some cases, invent shortcomings of early Church leaders. Then they draw incorrect conclusions that can affect testimony. Any who have made these choices can repent and be spiritually renewed.” – Quentin L. Cook

Now…as I read this, I have to amid, I don’t feel like I’m in a spiritual drought. Yet, I don’t feel as much happiness or joy as I’d like either. While Elder Cook’s advice is true and valuable, I don’t feel like actually applies to me right now. There is something else that is inhibiting my happiness, and I think that I found my answer in another conference talk given by President Uchtdorf.

One thing he said that I found especially interesting:

“So often we get caught up in the illusion that there is something just beyond our reach that would bring us happiness: a better family situation, a better financial situation, or the end of a challenging trial.

The older we get, the more we look back and realize that external circumstances don’t really matter or determine our happiness.

We do matter. We determine our happiness.

You and I are ultimately in charge of our own happiness.” – President Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Here is my answer. Why do I have trouble, at times, with feeling the joy – in singing the song of redeeming love–that I have felt in the past? It is because I get caught up in an illusion.

Sometimes this illusion is caused because I suffer from physical pain and weakness (hormones, anyone), and I mistakenly forget that I can find happiness and comfort in Christ, despite my weakness.

Sometimes this illusion is caused by boredom and ingratitude. I forget the blessings in my life, and become deceived that certain circumstances would make me happier.

But we are reminded, we matter; we determine our happiness.

If I determine my happiness, then what am I doing about it?
In the same talk, we learn to resolve to:

  • spend time with people I love
  • live up to potential–to be the person God knows I can be
  • find happiness; regardless of circumstances

And the amazing thing is: when I take the time to do these three things, then I can answer the last question of Alma’s with a resounding Yes!

***
I’m so grateful for general conference. I’m grateful for the practical advice, reminders, and warnings that we receive from the Prophet and apostles. I’m grateful for their testimonies. I’m grateful for the Book of Mormon and how it has clarified so much of the Bible and doctrine of Christ. I know that this Gospel is the true and living Gospel of Jesus Christ. I know that Heavenly Father loves us and wants each of us to feel the joy of forgiveness and conversion. I also know that He wants us to remember it.

How do you answer the question posed by Alma? How has General Conference and the Book of Mormon been a blessing to you?

Check out more experiences with General Conference and the Book of Mormon at Jocelyn’s blog.

4 Comments
by chococatania on March 12, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in General Conference, Insights
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Posted by chococatania on March 12, 2013

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Two Weeks and a Major Decision (Part 14 of the Ham Love Story)

Homey and Me

Homey and Me

This is part fourteen of the Homey and Me Love Story. It is when my marriage to Rusty was ending – long before I met Homey, but an important part of the story, nonetheless.

***
Saturday morning, 9AM finally came. It was my mom’s 10th year anniversary. My marriage was ending. I got myself ready and then went to the church. The day was cold and grey, reflecting how I felt. I was full of nervous energy, on the verge of vomiting.

When I got to the church, I saw my Bishop*. My sweet, tender Bishop. Through the service of this Bishop, I knew that not only did Heavenly Father love me, but He ached for me – and that He had been aching for me for longer than I even realized.
“Hi Bishop.”
“…Catania.” He replied, his face full of anguish for me. As I think of my Bishop at the time, the following scripture comes into mind:

“Yea, and are willing to mourn with those that mourn; yea, and comfort those that stand in need of comfort, and to stand as witnesses of God at all times and in all things, and in all places that ye may be in, even until death, that ye may be redeemed of God, and be numbered with those of the first resurrection, that ye may have eternal life–” – Mosiah 18:9

This Bishop fulfilled these roles. He mourned with me, comforted me, and both his service and words testified of God.

It’s funny. The Bishop had just gotten a job in Washington, D.C and was considering moving down there, but had been prompted to stay in PA until the end of the school year. I honestly feel like he was saved for me. I don’t believe in any coincidences.

Anyway…I met with the Bishop, and then Rusty arrived. Visually, we were stark opposites. Although I know I didn’t look my best, I was showered and dressed in Sunday Clothes. I had (minimal) make-up on (make-up is no good when you’re busy crying your eyes out…although a little doesn’t hurt–it makes the crying even more dramatic! ;) Rusty arrived in the same clothes he had on the night before, crumpled and wrinkled. He wore a hat, and his hair was dirty and greasy. I doubt he had brushed his teeth. There was a sense of desperation about him – not of pain, but of being discovered.

My Bishop had me stay in another room while he met with Rusty. I read scriptures and conference talks*. When the Bishop was done speaking with Rusty, he came and spoke to me, individually. He also gave me a priesthood blessing*. Finally, we met all together.

I don’t remember much of what was said that meeting, but I remember the feeling of disgust that consumed me while sharing a room with Rusty. I looked at him, embarrassed that I shared his name and that I had shared so much with him. He was like a disgusting scab that I wanted to shed myself of.

I think that what made him seem so disgusting isn’t because he was physically gross -he didn’t look that much different than he did the day we were married. The disgust I felt for him came from the knowledge of who he actually was. I saw his hands – the hands that I had loved so much – aware that only a day before those hands were treasures to me. Now, those once revered hands repulsed me. He was repulsive because of his lie.

Up to this point, Rusty had only admitted to having an affair with one woman, though I knew that there were more. While he met with the Bishop individually, he admitted to two more. Yet, I somehow knew there were more women. While I was with Rusty and the Bishop, we went through a line of questioning. The Bishop asked if there was anyone in PA that he had been with. The strangest thing happened. Rusty squirmed like a roach on his back. He couldn’t lie, yet he couldn’t tell the truth, either. He just squirmed–truly uncomfortable.
The Bishop didn’t back down.
“Is there anyone here?”
[Squirming]
“Rusty, is there anyone here?”
[Nearly inaudible] “Yes.”
“What happened?”
[Squirming]
“What happened?”
[Squirming]
“Rusty. What happened.”
[Even more squirming with a reluctant answer]“We had sex.”
Those words rang out like a shot. Immediately, I stood up and went out the door, clutching my stomach. I ran to the water fountain. I was sure I’d vomit.

The Bishop (not Rusty) raced after me and began to apologize profusely.
“I’m so, so sorry, Catania. I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Don’t apologize, Bishop.”
“No, really, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have put you through that.”
“No. Don’t apologize. I needed to see that; God knew that I needed to see that.“
The Bishop put his arm on my shoulder, physically comforting me, and we finished our meeting.

***
Before I go on, I have to say that I still believe that I needed to see Rusty in that situation – nearly forced to tell the truth. While there wasn’t a gun to his head, the tone in the room as the Bishop asked him those questions was absolutely serious. Gravely serious. I know that in that specific moment, God wouldn’t let Rusty lie, and I needed to see it. I needed to see how physically difficult it was for him to tell the truth. I needed to know who Rusty actually was. Though I was emotional and having a difficult time processing all of what was happening, I needed to have these moments of pure clarity–no matter how hard they were to take.

***
After I arrived home from the Bishop’s meeting, I checked my email and found a note from Snoopy. It was friendly, full of generalities. He asked me how things were going. I decided to tell Snoop that there was a possibility that I’d be getting divorced. I didn’t give him any specifics, but told him that everything I thought about my marriage had been a lie, and I was trying to figure out the course of action to take.

Almost immediately, Snoop responded.

He began the email by recounting the time we first spoke on the phone: “I remember you told me about this dream where you were riding on a skateboard, and rainbows were following you. Do you still have dreams like that?”

I crumbled.

“…and while were on old subjects, I remember being really hurt when you asked Rico Suave to the prom instead of me.”

That stupid prom! It was the worst mistake of my life!

Snoop reminded me of the healing power of the Atonement–that even though life is unfair, we can be healed. He let me know that he’d be praying for me. And he reminded me that I had a friend in him.

I was so sad, so confused, so frustrated.

***
A few parts of the next two weeks.

-
My mom told me that I should never talk to Rusty again. I told her that I wasn’t sure what I’d do. I told her that I needed to think about it. I wanted to make this decision with my eyes wide open. She got frustrated with me–my ups and downs, my indecision, and finally said to me, “You’re mad because I was right about him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I knew all along he was cheating.”
“Well, you never told me that.”
“I did, Catania, but you didn’t want to listen, and now you’re mad at me because I was right.”
Her assessment couldn’t have been more inaccurate. I felt even more alone.

-
Almost every day, I’d go to the hotel, asking Rusty question after question after question. He never squirmed again. He just recounted experience after experience with complete nonchalance–matter-of-factly. Like a sociopath.

-
Right away, I went to the bank, opened a new account (in my name only) and then withdrew the money from my joint account, depositing it into my own. I knew that if I chose to get divorced, I’d need money to support the kids.

-
I found some of the letters Rusty had written to me over the years. I wrote, “Lies, lies, lies.” On each of them. I found his journal (he’d write in it every so often when we, as a family, wrote in our journals). There were entries about family and kids. I crossed each entry out, writing, “Lies, lies, lies.” I brought them all with me to the hotel, and gave them to Rusty.

-
Every evening, the Bishop would call me, checking in. He had urged me to make my decisions carefully.
“You have been married in the temple*, Catania. The decision you make isn’t one to be made lightly. Either way – if you stay with Rusty or if you leave him – the decision will impact the eternities. Make this decision carefully. If you rush into any decision, I’m afraid you’ll close off an opportunity.”
The was wise advice from my Bishop, but it was also hard. I wanted for someone just to tell me what to do. Thankfully, I followed His advice, and have been very greatly blessed.

-
When the count of Rusty’s “women” neared a dozen, I told him I didn’t want to know anything more. I realized not only was this destroying my spirit, but I was in physical danger. I asked my mom and Gigi to take me to the county clinic where I could get tested for an STD.
When I walked into the office, I was utterly humiliated. I didn’t belong here! I wanted to say it to every person in the office, “I don’t belong here!!!”
The receptionist handed me a stack of papers–medical releases and questionnaires. One of them had the question: How can you practice safe sex in the future?
It was my golden opportunity. I answered, Don’t have sex with lying, cheating husband.
My mom said, “Catania…don’t write that!”
Gigi, who had accompanied me to the clinic countered, “Why not?…It’s the truth.”

When it was my turn to be tested, a nurse went through the questionnaire with me. When she got to this question, and she let out a howl, “Oooooh! Girl!” and laughed.
“It’s the only way I can think to be safer.”
Though she was jovial for a second, she became serious. “What you’re doing is brave. It’s the right thing to do. I hope that you’re okay.”
Her words of support brought tears to my eyes. “Me, too.” I said.

-
One day, when I went to the hotel, I brought my scrapbook(s) with me. I had several. I had spent hundreds of dollars and even more hours creating those scrapbooks. In an act of rage, I told Rusty it was all a lie. Then I proceeded to rip every single page into shreds. (It was pretty dramatic and quite cathartic!)

***
There were many things that happened during those two weeks that influenced my decision, but two things, in particular sealed the deal.

One

I received Snoop’s email (the one that made me cry) in the afternoon. Later on that evening, I went to Rusty’s hotel to talk things through. My mind was swirling.
“Rusty. What is it? Why do you love me? Why do we stay together?”
“You know I love you, Catania.”
“No. I don’t know that. In fact, it seems like you hate me.”
“Don’t say that.”
“Rusty. What is it? What do we have? Why would we fight for this marriage?”
Rusty thought a minute…finally, he answered. “We both really like hockey.”
My eyes widened.
“Hockey?”
“Yeah. We both like hockey.”
I laughed out loud. “Hockey season’s cancelled, buddy.”

I didn’t tell Rusty this, but as he said those words, Snoop’s email flashed through my mind. I began to cry as I realized that the man I was married to couldn’t come up with anything to fight for, anything to love, anything about me or our marriage. Yet, the man to whom I didn’t speak for 7 years could still remember my essence.

Rusty and me: We didn’t have anything. It was a sham. A lie. Less than nothing.

Two

The day before I made my final decision to get divorced, I was at church. Life was a roller-coaster that week. Up and down and up and down. One minute I thought I would try to work things out with Rusty–for the kid’s sake–for our marriage’s sake. The next minute I thought it was impossible. I didn’t know what to do.

As I was leaning more and more toward divorce, Rusty was trying to fight it. He promised to get professional help. He promised to stop. He promised that he loved me. But I still wasn’t sure. I prayed that I would have guidance on this decision.

One day, at church, I was walking in the hall. Rusty passed me, and I looked at him, saying hi. When I did, he didn’t return my salutation. He didn’t smile. Instead, he just looked through me. I felt like a high school girl who has a crush on a popular guy. He doesn’t even know I exist, I thought. At first, I was (mentally) making excuses for him. But then I realized, If there is anyone here he should recognize, then it should be me! Every emotion, every thought, every prayer, every blessing culminated in that single moment when Rusty looked through me.

I made the decision to file for divorce.

***

*The Bishop is a priest or leader of a local congregation. In the Mormon church, we have a lay leadership, so Bishops and others serve without pay. They have families, jobs, lives, on top of being the leader of congregations that usually number between 200-300 people.

*Conference Talks – Twice a year, the leadership of the Mormon church speaks to the general population in a meeting called General Conference. These talks are then printed and distributed in an LDS magazine – The Ensign.

*Priesthood Blessing – a special blessing given by a Priesthood holder. In this kind of blessing, the man acts as a sort of mouthpiece, expressing a blessing from the Lord. These blessings are given by request, and can be a source of increased strength, clarity, help from the Lord. They are often given during times of illness or great distress. Priesthood blessings are very sacred. Having been a recipient of many Priesthood Blessings, I can bear witness that these blessings are truly from God, and that He has endowed us with His power.

*Temple Marriage – some people in the Mormon church choose to be married in the temple. These marriages are considered eternal. In fact, the verbage for such an ordinance is for time and all eternity rather than ’til death do you part.

**
Click here for part 15

6 Comments
by chococatania on March 6, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in Divorce, Family, HaM Love Story, Marriage
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Posted by chococatania on March 6, 2013

http://thatgoodpart.wordpress.com/2013/03/06/two-weeks-and-a-major-decision-part-14-of-the-ham-love-story/

Easter Scripture Study

I can’t believe that it is already March…and that Easter is upon us.

I love this time of year. The weather is perfect, soon the Orange trees will be blossoming. Best of all, I love thinking about the Savior – His life and His atonement.

Easter Scripture Study

Easter Scripture Study

So…to help you get in the spirit of Easter, I’ve created an Easter Scripture Study Series. (This is the same scripture study series I created last year, with some corrections).

You can download it here.

This Easter Scripture Study Series follows some of the key events (though not exactly in chronological order) of the Jesus Christ’s final week in His mortal ministry, then His death, and Resurrection.

There are 10 assignments that will probably take you anywhere between 10-20 days to complete. The assignments include:

  • The Anointing at Bethany
  • The Triumphal Entry
  • The Cleansing of the Temple/Cursing of the Fig Tree
  • Teachings in the Temple
  • The Olivet Discourse
  • The Last Supper
  • Gethsemane
  • Betrayal, Judgment, Denial, and Abuse
  • The Death of the Lamb of God
  • The Empty Tomb/Risen Lord

So…check out the scripture study series, and learn more about the Savior this Easter time. Let me know how your studies go. I will also be posting my own thoughts of each assignment throughout the month, too.

Thanks! I hope you enjoy!

1 Comment
by chococatania on March 1, 2013  •  Permalink
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Posted by chococatania on March 1, 2013

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Be Not Moved–Compare and Contrast (D&C 87:8)

New Scripture Study Series

New Scripture Study Series

This is commentary based on the scripture study programStand Ye in Holy Places (Doctrine and Covenants 87:8). You can download the entire scripture study program here.

“Wherefore, stand ye in holy places, and be not moved, until the day of the Lord come; for behold, it cometh quickly, saith the Lord. Amen.” – Doctrine and Covenants 87:8

In Doctrine and Covenants 87:8, not only are we taught to stand in Holy Places, but we are told to be not moved. Obviously, this can’t be taken literally, yet it is truly a commandment from God. We need to be steadfast as we stand in Holy Places. Wavering will not help us to complete the charge given to us by God.

In order to get a better understanding of how not to be moved, we will study four groups of people listed in Lehi’s dream).

Group One – Those Who Never Stand in a Holy Place

The First Group of People Choose Never to Stand in a Holy Place.

The First Group of People Choose Never to Stand in a Holy Place.


Lehi tells us about this first group:

And it came to pass that I saw them, but they would not come unto me and partake of the fruit. – 1 Nephi 8:18

This first group of people see the prophet and the fruit of the tree of life, but they have no interest. They do not heed the teachings of the prophet. They refuse to follow him and partake. They never find themselves in a holy place.

Group Two – Those Who Wander Off

Mist of Darkness

Mist of Darkness

Lehi tells of the second group:

“And I saw numberless concourses of people, many of whom were pressing forward, that they might obtain the path which led unto the tree by which I stood.

And it came to pass that they did come forth, and commence in the path which led to the tree.

And it came to pass that there arose a mist of darkness; yea, even an exceedingly great mist of darkness, insomuch that they who had commenced in the path did lose their way, that they wandered off and were lost.” – 1 Nephi 8:21-23

This group of people wanted to obtain the path that led to the tree of life. They desired to be in Holy places, and they commenced on this path. Yet, when difficulty arose, they lost their confidence and even lost their ways.

As we go through our lives, there are times when we must endure difficulties. We need to choose to stand in Holy Places and be not moved. If we waver, even a little bit, then we risk wandering off – to the point where we are lost forever.

Though this group of people weren’t openly rebellious, they still didn’t get to their final goal. We can learn from their example. We must be steadfast in our commitment to standing in Holy Places. Obviously this doesn’t mean that we must stand in the temple all day long, but we can be steadfast in our commitment in being the kind of person who is Holy and worthy of the companionship of the Spirit.

Group Three – Those Who Became Ashamed

This group of people partook then were ashamed.

This group of people partook then were ashamed.

Lehi teaches:

” And it came to pass that I beheld others pressing forward, and they came forth and caught hold of the end of the rod of iron; and they did press forward through the mist of darkness, clinging to the rod of iron, even until they did come forth and partake of the fruit of the tree.

And after they had partaken of the fruit of the tree they did cast their eyes about as if they were ashamed.

And I also cast my eyes round about, and beheld, on the other side of the river of water, a great and spacious building; and it stood as it were in the air, high above the earth.

And it was filled with people, both old and young, both male and female; and their manner of dress was exceedingly fine; and they were in the attitude of mocking and pointing their fingers towards those who had come at and were partaking of the fruit.

And after they had tasted of the fruit they were ashamed, because of those that were scoffing at them; and they fell away into forbidden paths and were lost.” – 1 Nephi 8:24-28

Of all of the groups that Lehi tells of, I feel like this one is the most unfortunate.

This group of people held to the rod, pressed forward through the mists of darkness, partook of the fruit of the tree, then looked around…they noticed the people in the great and spacious building – those who chose not to partake – and they were ashamed.

Their shame reached a fever pitch, and this group of people decided to leave the tree of life in search for empty pleasure and false happiness.

As far as standing fast goes, we can learn from their example. Even when we have obtained a testimony, we will still be tempted. We will still see the “fun” that others seem to have while we live simple, obedient lives. Even after tasting the fruit that is sweeter above all fruits, we will still be mocked and tempted. If we choose to “be not moved,” then we will be able to endure these trials. We will inherit blessings from the Father and abide the day of His coming.

It isn’t enough to work hard, cling to the rod, and partake of the Fruit. We need, also, to be steadfast after we have partaken, too.

Group Four – The Successful Partakers of the Fruit

The Tree of Life - Christ

The Tree of Life – Christ


Lehi teaches us about the final group:

But, to be short in writing, behold, he saw other multitudes pressing forward; and they came and caught hold of the end of the rod of iron; and they did press their way forward, continually holding fast to the rod of iron, until they came forth and fell down and partook of the fruit of the tree.” – 1 Nephi 8:30

Finally, we learn of this last group who not only made it to the tree of life but never wavered after, either.

This group stood their ground throughout – they weren’t discouraged in mists of darkness nor were they ashamed by the calls of the people in the great and spacious building. They kept their eyes of faith focused on the fruit of the tree of life. Once they partook, they understood the joy and the source of that joy.

In our lives, we can be like this group by working hard to stay close to the Lord depsite external difficulties. We can “be not moved” from our holy places by nurturing our testimonies rather than listening to the deafening cries of the world.

***
What do you do to be like this fourth group of people – and persevere? How do you strive to be not moved?

2 Comments
by chococatania on February 28, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in 1 Nephi, Book of Mormon, Insights, Stand Ye in Holy Places
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Posted by chococatania on February 28, 2013

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2/11/05 (Part 13 of the HaM Love Story)

This is part thirteen of the Homey and Me Love Story. It is when my marriage to Rusty was ending – long before I met Homey, but an important part of the story, nonetheless.

***
It was February 11, around noon, when I sat down at the computer, mechanically, trying to hack my way into Rusty’s email. I wasn’t sure why I was doing it. I prayed to make sure that it wasn’t a mistake for me to get in his email without his consent. I knew that it could be a major betrayal of trust, but the Spirit reminded me, He is not to be trusted, and you know this. So…I found myself at the computer, trying a few passwords.

None of them were working.

I noticed the prompt forget your password? Even though I hadn’t forgotten it, I knew it was my best chance of figuring out how to get into the account. I was asked a security question: What is your favorite sports team? I knew Rusty well enough to attempt to answer this question. I also knew that Rusty loved sports. There were so many options. I tried them. Jazz, Utah Jazz, The Utah Jazz, St. Louis Cardinals, Cardinals, The Cardinals, Saint Louis Cardinals, Chicago Bears, The Bears, The Chicago Bears, The Eagles, and on, and on, and on. I wasn’t coming up with anything. After a few minutes of unsuccessfully guessing, Panda came into the room begging for lunch. I decided to give up the email quest. I figured, It isn’t meant to be. I was both disappointed and relieved. However, as I left, I didn’t turn off the computer. I figured I’d do that after feeding the kids.

After making sandwiches, eating, and cleaning up, I felt myself drawn, again, to the office room where the computer sat. I knew it was on and waiting for me. I told myself I’d just go up, turn it off, and then pray again for comfort and strength. I knew that everything would be okay.

When I went up to the computer, it was as if I was on “auto-pilot.” I sat down at the computer and just started typing: F-l-y-e-r-s. And BAM! Just like that – I was in.

I was so relieved to find the email inbox empty – except for a note from an guy in Utah – that Rusty had a landscaping business with. Yet, my “auto-pilot” was still on, and instead of logging off of the computer, I was checking the sent mail.

Then my heart began to sink. There were dozens. No hundreds of emails from Rusty to other women. I only saw subject lines…but they were bad enough. I clicked on one that said Thinking of You.

And I read that filthy, vile email.

The email was a note reminiscing on a time when he had been back to Utah, for His grandfather’s funeral, and he had met with a woman at a hotel. They had various sexual exploits. I was disgusted. I knew it was true. It was all over. I read the email once, then I called my dear friend, Blythe, and read her every word of the ex-ex-ex rated email. I think she choked. Then I said to her, I have to let you go.

I called Rusty. He was working with my step-dad. Again, I asked him, “What’s going on with you and Jezebel?”
“Nothing, Catania. I promise.”
“No, really. What’s going on with you and Jezebel?”
“Catania, is this because of the p*rnography you found the other day?”
“Rusty. I know. I have read your emails. I know that you cheated on me with Jezebel.”
Barely audible, Rusty stated, “It’s true.”

I hung up the phone and felt like I would vomit. Instead, I just collapsed. As I fell down to the ground, I kind of…cackled/choked. It wasn’t just a cry. It was despair. Even though my life had been hanging heavy for weeks, it finally took that last crash. I was finally beginning to jolt into awareness.

I remember that moment – lying on the ground, truly pounding it with my fists like a two year old having a tantrum. It was also nearly an out-of-body experience. Another part of me seemed to hover above myself – very aware of how crazy this was. Catania, you are crying, I thought to myself.

My mom came upstairs, and I don’t remember what I told her, but she now knew. I was still feeling like two people. Catania 1 was lying on the ground, crying in the ugliest way. Catania 2 was hovering above, shocked and embarrassed for Catania 1 – telling her hey, you’re crying! This is weird! This is exactly how it would happen in a movie! You’re acting like a two-year old! Catania 1 kept crying on the floor, shaking, holding back vomit while Catania 2 hovered and thought, this seems a little over-the-top…faker and then replayed the fall that Catania 1 had done upon reading the email over and over and over again.

I looked up at my mom and saw Tiger and Panda standing beneath her, anxious.
“Why are you crying, Mama?” Tiger asked, worried.
“It’s okay, let’s go and watch a movie, okay?” I knew that I wasn’t convincing, but I also knew that she would happily watch a movie.
My mom took the girls downstairs and started a video.

Instead of going downstairs, I called my Bishop on his cell phone.
“Bishop?”
“Hello? Yes?”
“Hi. This is Catania from your ward.”
“Yes.”
“Um. I’m calling because I know that you have an appointment to meet with my husband tomorrow, but I’m beginning to think that you’ll have to meet with me, too.”
“Okay…”
“I just found out that Rusty has been having an affair.”
I heard him pause and take a gulp.
“Look. I’m at a conference for work right now, but I’ll call you back. I’ll pray for you. And you pray, too.” He then paused and said, “Catania, pray — Right now you are in your own personal gethsemane.”
I nodded my head, unable to say anything because of the sobs and tears steraming down my face.
“k.” I finally muttered.
I hung up the phone, and collapsed again – this time on the bed – internalizing what the Bishop had said. I knew it was true. I was going to experience my own kind of “gethsemane” – I knew that I was about to live through more pain than I ever thought possible.

***
I sat on the bed, crying for a while, but a nervous energy began to consume me. I called Blythe, I called Freckles, I called Spunky. I called Red. I called the Princess Club. I called friends from Utah. I called friends in PA. I wrote an email to Jezebel and read through all of Rusty’s emails. I wrote emails to a few other women that I suspected Rusty had slept with.

Rusty came home, and we went upstairs to talk things through. I called his parents, his siblings, and his best friend. No matter how hard I tried to embarrass him, he didn’t flinch. Repeating the story – even in the most shocking way to other people – didn’t make me feel Rusty and worse or me any better. I was still sobbing. And Rusty stared at me as if he was wondering when this episode would end.

I asked Rusty all of the evidentiary questions…who(too many to tell, really), what (sex, in any and every way you can think), where (in my home, in Moab, in cars, in their homes, in tents, and…well you get the idea), why (he didn’t know…maybe he had a tough time acclimating to married life), when (september 1998, two months after we were married, after work, that day in the canyon, at the depeche mode concert, while I was at Young Women’s, while he was studying, when he went to the “library”, etc), and how (easy- he lied to me, to himself, and to everyone again, again, and again.)

After a few hours of questioning, we came downstairs. I was disgusted. Some of my mom’s friends (Vito and Gigi) were at my house. They were apprised of the situation. Vito acted like a father to me. He said that he wanted to break Rusty’s neck. (Which made me smile). When my mom said that Rusty was not welcome in our house, Vito offered to take care of him. Vito took Rusty to a parking lot behind McDonald’s and kicked him out of his car. When Rusty asked Vito where he was going to sleep, Vito replied, “That’s not my concern.” Rusty, still confused at this sudden turn of events protested, “But I can’t just sleep in this parking lot.”
Vito responded, “Listen, buddy. You’ll be better off in this parking lot than anywhere near me.”

For the rest of the evening, I cried, cried, and cried some more. My friends cried with me. They were appalled and sick for me. I felt the strength of so many people who cared.

Before I tried to sleep, I had the thought to email a few old friends. I emailed my dear friend Garet and told him what was going on. I felt like I needed to talk to people who knew me. I also emailed Snoopy. I didn’t tell him what had happened right away. Instead, I just told him that I had run into his parents a few weeks before (I had – at a church function). They told me that he was at Law School. I asked him how life was, and I told him I was back in PA. I wished him the best. In doing so, I wished that I’d hear back from him, without knowing what he’d say or what I’d say – if I’d tell him about me and Rusty. Writing my friends kept me busy for a little while. Then it was back to the reality of the moment.

Throughout the night, I sat on the guest bed, expecting a phone call from Rusty. I expected a phone call of sorrow and remorse. I wanted a phone call where he told me that he loved me, why he loved me, and that I was beautiful. I wanted him to tell me that this wasn’t true – it was a mistake. Even though so many people rallied around me; even though I felt the love, strength, and support of my ecclesiastical leaders; even though I knew that God was aware of me and had me cradled in His hands, I just wanted to curl up and cry in the arms of my husband.

Instead of a phone call from Rusty, I got a phone call from Red who listened as I gave her every painful detail. Whiles speaking to Red, I came to understand exactly the Spirit was trying to teach me about Galatians 5:1 (at that time). I needed to stand fast in the Liberty wherewith Christ had made me free. As long as I was yoked to Rusty, through marriage, I would be yoked to the mire of his sins. I wasn’t completely ready to call it quits on my marriage, but I had a strong feeling that I needed to use all of the energy I had left to get as far away from it as I possibly could. I was getting the idea that if I didn’t, I’d find myself stuck in the mud, miserable, forever.

After my conversation with Red, I stopped calling friends (it was the middle of the night!). Catania 2, my rational side, hovered above me and watched as Catania 1 took off her wedding ring, took some Ibuprofen, wrote in her journal, and cried some more. Morning could not come soon enough.

***
Click here for part 14.

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by chococatania on February 26, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in Divorce, Family, HaM Love Story, Marriage, Single Motherhood
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Posted by chococatania on February 26, 2013

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Goals Update – Knowing God and Jesus Christ

So…as far as my goal this year (which is losing weight, as lame as that may sound), I’m not making much progress, per se. I haven’t lost weight. I am exercising more, and I’m feeling better, but I still have changes that I need make before I see any real results.

A while ago, I read a book by Robert Lustig – Fat Chance: Beating the Odds against Sugar…. I liked it because I realized that I am a sugar addict, and that there is more to health than just looking skinny (which is something I’ve always suspected). Anyways. Even though this seems lame, weight loss has been a real personal trial for me. I haven’t always been overweight. A few years ago, I ran a marathon! Only recently did I put on weight (with my last child), and I haven’t taken it off (he’s 2 now!!!) I’ve noticed that both my relationship with food and the perception I have of myself have changed. Neither of them have changed in a good way.

I’m including this stuff on this blog because I’m convinced that my struggle has a spiritual connection.

A friend of mine gave me the book Not My Will but Thine by the late Elder Neal A. Maxwell. It has been helping me as I consider my desires, goals, and the will of the Lord. I know that the Lord will answer my prayers, I just need to learn how to align my will with His.

Two things struck me when I read the first chapter:

“…God really is a loving, Father God, not a distant cosmic presence.” (Maxwell, Not My Will but Thine, p. 3)

and

“Jesus Christ has been, is, and will be our empathic Advocate with the Father. Not only is He our Advocate, but He helps us through our individual ordeals. By His own suffering, He was perfected, including in His capacity to help us with our individual suffering.” (Maxwell, Not My Will but Thine, 3-4)

Nature - one sure way to feel God's influence in our lives.

Nature – one sure way to feel God’s influence in our lives.

God is really a loving Father God

(and not a distant cosmic presence). Do you really know that? Do I really know that? Do I remember it? I have to say, yes I know it, but no I don’t always remember. I have felt close to Heavenly Father – close enough to know that He truly is a Father that loves me. Yet there are times when I feel distance. Of course, that is my fault – usually distance is a result of lazy prayers.

But, even when I’m praying well, there are some times when it is hard to feel God’s real presence in my life. Or I feel it, but I want to feel more of it.

Jesus Christ is our Advocate and Helper

I know that Jesus Christ is my advocate with Heavenly Father. I know that He helps me. I know that there is nothing (in and of myself) that I can do to receive blessings or comfort from God. Everything I have received has been because of Christ’s mercy.

I know that the key to unlocking the power of the atonement in my life is through repentance, faith, and covenant making (and keeping). I know that I depend on my Savior for everything.

But there are times when I know that I underestimate exactly how powerful He is. For example – He knows my ordeals. My ordeals are ordeals. Even if it sounds stupid, being frustrated with myself physically, is still an ordeal. My ordeal is not because I can’t see my value as a woman and daughter of God. It is because I’m not living to my potential. It is because I have some real physical weaknesses, and I need Christ’s help to overcome them. Our ordeals and trials are always based on the conditions of mortality – our weakness.

Sometimes I forget how Christ can help me with all of my trials – even ones that don’t seem as crucial or important. I forget that Christ knows what it’s like to feel depressed or down. And he knows how to uplift. I forget that he has experienced all that I have experienced. I don’t have to endure this trial alone. I can take Christ’s yoke upon me, and he will help me to overcome.

So…while I don’t want to over-think things all day long, it is good for me to recognize that when I think about my goals, I can see a clear connection between my progress (or lack of progress) and my willingness to activate the power of the atonement in my life. If I’m feeling weak (in other words, if I want cookies), then I can go to the Lord for strength. I can pray that the Lord will strengthen me as I try to employ good habits (like portion control, good eating, and exercise) in my life. I can also pray that I won’t get bogged down on day to day issues, but that I will see the big picture, and be grateful for a working body, loving husband, and good life. Remembering My relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ really can help me obtain any goal or get through any ordeal.

How do you use the atonement to overcome weakness and difficulty in your life? How have you grown closer to Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ? How do you keep your relationship with Heavenly Father real and relevant?

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by chococatania on February 24, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in 2013, Goals, Testimonies
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Posted by chococatania on February 24, 2013

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Holy Places – A List (D&C 87:8)

New Scripture Study Series

New Scripture Study Series

This is commentary based on the scripture study programStand Ye in Holy Places (Doctrine and Covenants 87:8). You can download the entire scripture study program here.

“Wherefore, stand ye in holy places, and be not moved, until the day of the Lord come; for behold, it cometh quickly, saith the Lord. Amen.” – Doctrine and Covenants 87:8

Mesa Arizona Temple

Mesa Arizona Temple

In Doctrine and Covenants 87:8, we are taught to stand in holy places. In the Guide to the Scriptures, we learn that Holy is sacred, having Godly character, or spiritually and morally pure. The opposite of holy is common or profane.” When thinking of this definition of Holy and holy places, the first thing I think of is the temple.

Yet, Doctrine and Covenants 87:8 teaches us that we need to stand in holy places and be not moved. Obviously, we can’t be in the temple all the time. How, then, do we stand in holy places if we can’t always be in the temple or similar structures?

Well…it is helpful to remember what Paul taught

“Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that the Spirit of God dwelleth in you?” – 1 Corinthians 3:16

We – our physical bodies – are temples. We can always stand in holy places by being holy ourselves – and qualifying for the Spirit that would reside in a Holy Place like the temple.

So…the next question is – how do we work to qualify for the sanctifying effect of the Spirit? How do we treat ourselves like a temple of God?

Heavenly Father has given us insight on what His house is like

“Organize yourselves; prepare every needful thing; and establish a house, even a house of prayer, a house of fasting, a house of faith, a house of learning, a house of glory, a house of order, a house of God;” – Doctrine and Covenants 88:119

This verse gives us a list of what Heavenly Father’s house is like. Even though this list is about the literal house of the Lord, the temple, we can find parallels to our own lives.

House of Prayer

We have been taught to pray always (see 2 Nephi 32:9). Of course this means that we should pray – both formally and with a prayer in our heart at all times.

This scripture also teaches us what our words would be like. We can’t stand in a holy place if our words are vile, critical, or do anything to drive away the Spirit. If we are a house of prayer, then our words should be reflective of such speech.

House of Fasting

Of course it is easy to see how the Lord’s house would be a house of fasting. We are also commanded to fast. When I think of how this relates to myself, my personal temple, I wonder how I might be a house of fasting. I can’t fast all the time, and I don’t think that we are supposed to.

But consider fasting – we abstain from food and water for a set period of time. This goes against our appetites and natural desires. We aren’t expected to fast forever. Once we are finished with our fast, we go back to eating. Fasting is essentially about sequestering the natural man in order to train our spiritual sides.

There are many appetites that influence our behaviors. When we are a “House of fasting” we learn to overcome those appetites and keep them within the bounds that the Lord has set. When we give into our appetite for food during a fast, then we really destroy the fast. When we give into other appetites, say for example taking drugs or being physically intimate with another, we destroy our relationship with the Spirit. Yet, this doesn’t mean that we will never take a drug or be physically intimate with another. It is completely appropriate to have a drug when going into surgery. It is healthy and necessary to be physically intimate with your spouse.

In the case of our bodies as temples, we become a “house of fasting” when we wisely restrict our natural appetites.

House of Faith

The temple is a house of faith. In the temple, we learn about God, exercise our faith, and receive witness. We, ourselves, can also be a house of faith.

I suppose that the best way we can be a house of faith is by being the type of person who nurtures faith. In Alma 32, we learn about faith and how to nurture it. A seed of faith that begins to grow is good. If the plant stops growing because we stop nurturing it doesn’t mean that the seed was bad. Instead, such lack of growth indicates our seed was neglected.

We can let our own faith grow if we become a “house of faith” by continuing to do things that will nurture the faith that has been planted in our hearts.

House of Learning

The physical temple is a house of learning. We go there to make covenants and receive instruction. Over the years, I have had many experiences where I have been taught in the temple. I love going there and learning more. I feel like that is what really defines our human experience: we are always looking to learn more.

We, ourselves, also need to be houses of learning. As I ponder this concept, I think that it not only means that we study and learn, but that we keep our brains pure and fertile grounds for education.

We live in an information age. I am so grateful to be a part of it. But there is so much that is either useless or downright destructive. When we fill our minds with p*rnography, violence, or when we simply waste our time, we destroy our capacity to learn more. I think that we are beginning to see that our brains are much more powerful than we realize. We can keep our temples houses of learning by being clean and learning good things.

House of Glory

One of the best ways to understand glory is by reading the experience that Moses has in Moses 1:5-6, 11-15. Moses first communes with God. The whole experience is so glorious that Moses can’t behold God with his own eyes. After the experience, Satan appears to Moses. I’m going to assume that he appeared in a way that was similar to a Heavenly Being, but he had no glory. Moses could tell and was not deceived by Satan.

I think that we can become a house of glory by seeking God’s true glory – through virtue and righteousness. So often, the world makes things appear good. Immodesty and sexuality seem to be especially attractive in our world. Yet they lack glory. To be a house of glory, we need to learn to discern between God’s glory and Satan’s counterfeit. Although similar, once we have experienced God’s glory, then Satan’s counterfeit pales in comparison.

We can become “houses of Glory” by being righteous and virtuous – even in a world that doesn’t appreciate such characteristics.

House of God

This is my favorite thing! Of course, we know that the temple is a house of God. Yet, Paul teaches us that we, too are temples! We are children of God! By our very divine nature we are related to Him.

We can become a house of God when we are baptized (and take on Christ’s name) and when we receive the Gift of the Holy Ghost. When we make and observe this covenant, we then have three parts of the Godhead in play in our lives all the time. We are 1) Spiritual Children of God. 2) Children of Christ through His atonement. 3) Constant companions with the Holy Ghost.

When we live worthy of our baptismal covenant, then we can truly be a house of God.

***
We have been told to stand in holy places and be not moved, yet our daily lives require us to participate in places that may not really be “holy”. The Lord doesn’t expect us to be hermits. He doesn’t expect us to scurry from our homes to temples to churches. We can and should participate in normal activities – like going to school, the store, museums, restaurants, and our jobs. We may not have control of how holy these places are, but we can stand in holy places without being moved by being holy ourselves. As we apply the list found in Doctrine and Covenants 88:119, we can be holy and enjoy the blessings of residing in a Holy Place.

***

How do you keep yourself holy? Which of these elements of a holy place strike you? How have you learned to apply it in your life?

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by chococatania on February 21, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in Doctrine and Covenants, Insights, Lists, Scripture Study, Stand Ye in Holy Places
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Posted by chococatania on February 21, 2013

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The Longest Week (Part 12 of the HaM Love Story)

This is part twelve of the Homey and Me Love Story. It is when marriage to Rusty was ending – long before I met Homey, but an important part of the story, nonetheless.

Rusty and I drove with our two little girls – Tiger (3) and Panda (not quite two) – to Pennyslvania after living in Utah for over 6 years together. We were starting a new phase of our lives, which was exciting to me. I had felt “stalled out” for so long. I figured this change would help me, Rusty, our children, and our marriage. It seemed to be so good.

In October, we moved into my mom’s house while Rusty started a new job and got ready for school. We would stay there a few months until we found a suitable apartment.

Things went well. Rusty worked. I was able to spend time with my mom and my younger brother. So much change had happened in my life to notice much of anything in regards to my marital relationship. By the New Year, though, things were really settling down. We were still at my mom’s house while Rusty started school. He was working then traveling about 45 minutes to go to his classes, so the days were long. Even though I was sidetracked by hanging out with my brother, I was itching to move on, get an apartment, and be our own family again. I was also itching for more attention from Rusty. I figured that because we removed ourselves from the stress of Utah, things would be better. But the habits of our relationship remained the same, and we didn’t communicate or interact with each other much.

Our relationship was a concern to me (as it had been in Utah), so I found an online course – to help strengthen our marriage. I emailed the course to Rusty (it was to be done by both of the members of the couple), and he agreed to do it. As I studied this course, I thought more of Rusty, and what worked for him, and even though I felt uncomfortable, I began to try to be his dream woman. I ached for any kind of attention or approval – no matter the cost to my own integrity.

*
Just when I thought we were turning a corner in our relationship something horrible happened.

Tuesday Morning

I had been up early, subbing for a *seminary class. After class, I went to check my email and noticed an address in the url address line – it had a pornographic title.

Because of the way this website came up, I knew that it had been specifically visited in the past. I knew that it wasn’t any kind of accident. I looked at the website for a second. It was horrible.

I decided then to go through the history, where I found dozens of pornographic sites. Each worse than the one before. The blank stares of women exposing their most private, beautiful selves disgusted me. They were no more than objects. Things. And I thought of the men, the man, that would look at this. Did he not know that this was a woman? A daughter? A person who felt, laughed, loved? Did he not know that she was more than two legs and breasts? Did he not know that he was more than some sexual being, capable of more than simply fulfilling this rudimentary desire?

As I went through the websites, I knew that it was Rusty who had been looking at them. As each image hit my brain, I froze, and realized that this wasn’t the first time he had looked at something like this. I looked at each woman – feeling uglier, fatter, and increasingly worthless. Even though I couldn’t put my finger on it, I was beginning to understand our relationship.

I didn’t tell anyone about the p*rnography right away. Instead, I sent an email to Rusty. I told him we’d need to talk. I told him I found the pictures, and that they were repulsive.

He came home that evening, contrite. Like a dog with its tails between his legs. And I wanted to believe it.

Wednesday

Although I wasn’t feeling that much better about our new problem, I was willing to work through it. This problem afflicts so many. I covenanted to help my husband through it, too.

Thursday

I struggled still. Seminary was awful, I’m sure. I got home and read scriptures, looking for solace and strength. I knew that I could and did forgive my husband. I knew the power of the atonement could help us overcome this problem in our marriage. Yet, I could not be comforted. I didn’t understand why.

I talked to my husband about it.

He told me about his favorite *conference talk (that he had read earlier in the day)- Peace of Conscience and Peace of Mind, Richard G. Scott. Rusty had never before initiated a spiritual conversation with me, so I stood staring as he spoke to me. I could tell he was trying to manipulate me. I wanted to rip the Ensign Magazine out of his hands. This had been my favorite talk. I knew that he didn’t mean what he said, but that he was trying to say what I wanted to hear. I also realized that all along everything he had said to me was a variation on this exact circumstance – he spoke what I wanted to hear. I pretended to listen to and accept what he was saying.

*
I went to a meeting at the church. The entire activity was focused on unity and gospel teaching in the home. I had a heavy horrible feeling. It wasn’t anger. It was a stupor of thought, I suppose. It was discouraging, despondent, and completely desperate.

*
After my meeting, I came home, still upset. He didn’t sense it, but I finally told him how horrible I was feeling. He then acted like he understood and told me that things were about to get tougher before they got better.
“You know, I was talking to a friend at school today.”
“Yeah?” I responded.
“Yeah. He just went through a divorce. He told me how many people end up getting divorced in this program.”
“Really…Why?”
“Well, just because it is so time consuming. I will have a lot of projects and work to do, and will have to spend a lot of time at school.”
“Okay.” I was unsure as to why he was warning me about this now.
“Yeah. But I really think that we will be able to make it. You just need to know how time consuming it is. I will have a lot of group projects and things that I can’t do at home.”
This warning that Rusty gave me had a different effect on me that I think he attended. I felt warned, but not that class would be difficult. I felt like what he was saying was strange. Like he was trying to groom me for something bigger. Or like he was trying to reel me back into some kind of trap. In any case, I didn’t like what he said – not because of the subject matter, but because I didn’t trust his purpose or his timing.

Thursday Over-night

I had three dreams. In each of these dreams Rusty was having sex with another woman. I knew each woman by name – they were acquaintances in real life. When I woke up, I asked Rusty a question,
“I feel like there is something you’re keeping from me, Rusty.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. I just feel like there is something really wrong with us, with our marriage, and that if you don’t tell me, and I find out, then there will be no hope whatsoever.”
“Catania…I’m sure you’re still stressed about Tuesday. Don’t worry. I’ll be seeing the bishop tomorrow.”
Rusty moved to hug me, and I let him, but I didn’t reciprocate. I don’t think that he noticed. He seemed relatively aloof to all of my thoughts and feelings – only aware enough to do and say things that he hoped would keep me playing his game.

Friday Morning

It was because of the dreams. It was because of the Spirit. It was a combination of things that caused me to wake up on Friday morning feeling worse than I had all week.

I didn’t do much as far as seminary went. I showed up, distraught, and thankful that our class was combined with another – eating breakfast and watching a movie. The other teacher attempted small talk with me, but I didn’t know what to say. I was completely distracted. I didn’t know why I was feeling so bad still.

After seminary, I went out with my mom to a craft store that was closing. The deals were amazing. My mom and I had been looking forward to going to this sale. But I walked along, oblivious. Outwardly, it may have seemed that I was moping. Inwardly, I couldn’t think or even move. I was upset and distracted. I wanted the feeling I had to disappear, but I didn’t even know what the Spirit was trying to communicate let alone how to cheer up.

I went home, and did what I always did when overwhelmed: I prayed and studied my scriptures. The prayer I uttered was pained and disjointed. I opened my scriptures to Galatians 5:1,

“Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.” – Galatians 5:1

And I wondered what sin I needed to give up in order to stand free in Christ’s liberty.

I couldn’t think of what I needed to do. I wondered if I need to more purely forgive of Rusty. I wondered if there was just “more” I should have done. I didn’t expect the prompting that I would receive. Check Rusty’s email.
–What? Why?
Still the feeling remained. Check Rusty’s email.
–I shouldn’t snoop around in his private life. It shows that I don’t trust him.
You don’t and shouldn’t trust him. Check Rusty’s email.
–Is this really the right thing to do?
Check Rusty’s email.
–Okay. I will try, but I don’t even know his email address or password…
Just Check Rusty’s email.
–I will check Rusty’s email. It feels so strange to do, but if it is the right thing, then I’ll be able to remember the account and figure out the restaurant. If not, then I won’t be able to read his email, then I’ll talk about it with him tonight.

Resolved to check Rusty’s email, I closed up my scriptures, went to the computer, and turned it on.

***
*Seminary – a religious scripture-study class for high school students. In PA, it took place before school.

*General Conference – A meeting twice a year where the membership of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints hears talks and counsel from the prophet and 12 apostles, and other leaders of our church.

***
Click here for part 13.

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by chococatania on February 19, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, HaM Love Story, Marriage
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Posted by chococatania on February 19, 2013

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Six Years in One Post (Part 11 of the HaM Love Story)

If you know anything about me, you already know that the marriage with Rusty won’t work out. I hate thinking about this time in my life. In some ways, I’d be more comfortable leaving it out of the Homey and Me love story. And since this is the Homey and Me love story, and not the Rusty and Me Divorce Story, I’ll spare you most of the heart-wrenching details. However, a few things need to be shared. They will make the Homey and Me story that much better.

Year One

I went to school. Rusty worked and did whatever else he did during the day. On Valentine’s day, I was upset because we went out with his parents!

Year Two

I went to school and finished. Rusty worked and did whatever else he did during the day. We moved out of our basement apartment, and I had friends from my lacrosse team at my apartment complex. (Princess Club!!!) I was sidetracked from Rusty’s absence by the delight of always being with my friends.

Year Three

I had a baby and stayed home with her. For the first time, I realized how much Rusty was gone. I realized how little we knew of each other. It bothered me. This year was filled with more emotional highs and lows than even our first year of marriage.

*

A month before the baby was born, Rusty decided to take a trip to Moab that I begged him not to do. I didn’t want to be left alone while he was four hours away. Actually, I wanted for both of us to go somewhere, but he insisted that we couldn’t afford it. He agreed not to go. Until he left, and called me on his way down. Again, it was my friends from the Princess Club and my other friend, Red, that saved me. I would watch movies, laugh, and talk about the gospel with the girls from the Princess Club. Red and I would snowboard nearly twice a week. It was nice to feel loved.

*

A week after the baby was born, Rusty mentioned that he wanted to go to a Depeche Mode concert.
“What? You? Depeche Mode?”
“Some people from work are going?”
“Who?”
“You know. Some guys.”
“I didn’t know you liked Depeche Mode.”
“They’re okay.”
“I don’t know how comfortable I feel about you being gone yet. We have this new baby. I don’t know what I’m doing. It’s not like it is your favorite band. You don’t even have a single Depeche Mode album. I should be going to that…not you.”
“Yeah…I know…but it will be fun.”
“I don’t think it is a good idea. I really need you here.”
“I’ll stay home.”
“Thanks, Rusty.” I was proud of his decision.
The next day, around four-thirty, I got a call from Rusty. He was running late at work, and wouldn’t be coming home at all because he was on his way to the Depeche Mode Concert.

Between rejection and Post-Partum Depression, I cried a lot that night. Finally, I was talked into the idea of going out to a diner and staying there nearly all night – so I wouldn’t be home when Rusty got home.

I was distracted by stacks of French Toast and a waitress with a wandering glass eye.

When I got home, Rusty was penitent, crying. He wrote me a letter describing how overwhelmed he felt as a new father. I took his apology seriously and was happy that we were finally on the same page.

*

One afternoon, a few weeks before the olympics, when our baby was about nine months old, I got a phone call from the Sheriff’s office. She informed me that my car was parked illegally at a rest stop in the Weber Canyon.
“That’s not possible,” I responded. “I’m at home, and my husband has the car. He’s at work.”
I looked at the time. It was about an hour and a half after his shift should have ended. Often, things ran late at work, so I figured that was what had happened.
“Is your car a white toyota tercel with license plate number 1234567?”
“Yes. How did you know?” (Duh! The car was there…but it wasn’t sinking in.)
“It is parked here at the rest stop in Weber Canyon.”
“But that’s not possible. I’m at home, and my husband is at work, with the car.” I paused. Realizing that she wasn’t lying or pranking me, but that the car was not at work. “You know, let me call my husband’s work, and see what is going on.”
“Okay ma’am. Call me back afterward.”

I called his work.

“Hi. May I please speak with Rusty?”
“Rusty? Sorry. He left a while ago. Before three.”
“Okay.”

I called Rusty’s cell phone. No answer. I called it again, again, and again. No answer. Rusty?! Where are you?! Why do we have cell phones when you never answer it? You need to answer it now! I need you! No answer.

I called all of Rusty’s family. Nothing.

The Sheriff’s office called me back. “Ma’am, have you heard anything?”
“No. The hospital he works at said that he left at 2:30 ish. I can’t get a hold of his cell. His family, no one knows…I don’t know.” She could hear my tone rising.
“Ma’am, I’m sure that everything will be alright. The sheriff is at the rest stop, looking around. I’m sure that there’s nothing to worry about.”
Her comfort had the opposite effect. Instantly, I remembered the story about a person being murdered at that very rest stop.
“You said your husband has a cell phone,” The secretary at the sheriff’s office broke my desperate train of thought.
“Yes.”
“Can you try calling it again.”
“Yes.”
“Use your cell. I’ll stay on the line with you.”
“Okay.” I called.
She answered, “Yes, the sheriff sees the cell phone ringing in the car. It looks like he didn’t take the cell with him.”
What was happening.

More calls were made. I was starting to feel sick to my stomach. Parents and siblings were starting to say prayers and come up with action plans. The secretary kept trying to ask me questions on where my husband could be? (he should be at work…or home); did he have a reason to go up the canyon? (No, he doesn’t have anything to do in the canyon. That’s fifteen miles away.); No. No. No. No. No.

Then, she was distracted.
“Hold on a minute, ma’am. I’m getting something from the officer.”
“Okay.”
“Well, it looks like everything is okay. It looks like your husband is okay. They found him.”
“Where is he?”
“A woman just dropped him off.”
“What?”
“A woman just dropped him off to his car.”
Nothing computed.
“Okay. Thanks.”

A few minutes later, my cell phone rang.
“Catania?”
“Rusty?”
“What’s going on? Why is the sheriff here? Why did you call the police?”
“What do you mean? Where are you? Why are you in the canyon? Who are you with?”
“I was just going out to buy you a Valentine’s present. Then I got a call from Jezebel. She was worried about something that happened at work so we talked about it. But why did you call the police? Why didn’t you just call me?”
“I did call you. You didn’t answer the phone.”
“I accidentally left it in my car. But you didn’t need to worry.”
“I didn’t call the police. They called me. They called me over an hour ago, telling me to move my car or it would be towed. And I thought you were at work. Why are you in the canyon with Jezebel?”
Still. Nothing computed.

About half an hour later, Rusty came home. Trying to console me. I was too naive to feel cuckolded. His parents called. I tried to let everyone down gently, yet honestly. “Rusty was just out with a woman from his work. It looks like it was a misunderstanding.” Maybe they knew better. Probably.

But, somehow Rusty worked his magic. He made up. He cried. He apologized. We went to the temple the next day. He did everything he could to comfort me. And for the most part, it worked.

Year Four

We moved. Rusty thought that maybe he’d start going to school full-time. He was working full-time, too. I saw him for roughly fifteen minutes a day. I was lonely, but used to it. When he was around, he’d be both charming and negligent. Both faithful and apathetic. For the most part – not any different than day one of our marriage.

We had another child. She was a miracle, in my mind. Rusty and I were rarely intimate. After several weeks/months, I would get to a point of desperation, and then wonder I thought men were nuts for physical touch (and more than that, but this is a family blog). He was working full time and going to school full time. He assured me that it was the stress. I believed it. We never had been very intimate. Nothing was different. I figured that maybe I was getting bored. I also knew that I was getting less appealing. I was big, fat, and pregnant. Who would like that?

There were days, and weeks, and months, that passed without a single glance from Rusty. Let alone touch. During one particularly lonely spell, I cried myself to sleep one night. The next, I couldn’t deal with it. (I’m Italian, after all…no bottling up things for me!) I pled with him – why don’t we kiss? why don’t you want to be with me? I thought guys couldn’t go this long? Why do I have to beg for intimacy from you? He told me that if I took better care of myself then maybe he’d be interested. Inwardly, I argued, “I’m eight months pregnant! You did this to me!” Outwardly, I laid on the bed, wishing I could cry louder, make a scene, or throw a vase.

Instead, I fell asleep, and I dreamed that I was at a formal dance (and not pregnant!). Rusty was there, but he wasn’t paying much attention to me. I was standing around, sad and bored, when I noticed Snoopy. I ran up to him, happy.
“What are you doing here?”
“I came to the party.” he answered.
“Would you like to dance?”
“Snoopy. I’m married. I can’t.”
“I’ll ask Rusty.” And he did. Rusty looked at him and at me.
“Whatever. I don’t care. No problem, dude.” Rusty couldn’t be bothered with what he was doing.
Snoopy then took my hand, and kissed it.
Then I woke up. Elated, shocked, guilty, then, looking at Rusty, dismayed. I hated that I had woken from the dream. And I hated that the most loved I had ever felt during my marriage was when I dreamed of another man.

I wrote about the dream in my journal- both treasuring and despising it. Rusty never knew about it. I don’t think that he would have cared, either. Rusty was simply too busy or stressed.

Year Five

More of the same. Rusty? Who was he? But I was happier. I had friends. The Princess Club and played lacrosse, watched movies, and laughed. Red and I scrapbooked and snowboarded. I had also made a new friend, Blythe, who had two sons the ages of my two daughters. We walked and talked every morning. We took our kids to the library, made crafts, and had pizza parties…so…Rusty? Rusty who?

Year Six

A threshold: I finally hit it. Nothing made sense to me. Rusty was in the Elder’s Quorum Presidency, and we went to the temple every week. We prayed together. I made sure our family read scriptures. We were doing all of the things that should make us feel more secure, but none of it seemed to work.

Years earlier, this insecurity would have translated to a night of crying, pleading, and yelling at Rusty. Now, I just didn’t care.

Rusty went away for a long weekend with a friend. He didn’t call when he arrived into San Francisco. He didn’t call for four days. He didn’t call to tell me his plane landed okay. He didn’t call me to say goodnight. He didn’t call me to see how the kids were. I could have tracked him down, but I figured that the news hadn’t reported a plane crash, so he wasn’t dead. And I didn’t care either way. I had just started a new project – Illustrating Lehi’s Dream. I had started reading a new book – Angle of Repose (Wallace Stegner). I had my kids, my friends, and I had my hilarious brothers to talk to. Why did I need Rusty?

Ultimately, this line of thinking had me alarmed. I wrote in my journal and came to the conclusion that if we didn’t fix whatever seemed to be broken, then we might not make it. Prophetically, I wrote, If our marriage continues like this, we’ll be divorced soon. I don’t think we’d make it even another year.

When Rusty got back from San Francisco, I told him, matter-of-factly, about my worries. I reported to him out of a sense of duty – not rage. There’s a difference, you know. I told Rusty that really I didn’t care that he didn’t call me, that I didn’t care about my marriage to him, and that I didn’t really think I even cared about him. I felt like I didn’t even know him. I told him that I wanted to be mad at him, but didn’t have the energy or desire to. My indifference was alarming.

“I suppose we ought to talk to a marriage counselor.” I suggested. He promised me that things would change.

And they did. We didn’t see a marriage counselor, but about three and a half weeks after this discussion, we suddenly picked up our family, and moved 2,000 miles to Pennsylvania – off to start a new life where Rusty would go to school at Temple University, and we’d finally be progressing toward a future.

The change was my last hope.

***
Click here for part 12.

4 Comments
by chococatania on February 14, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, HaM Love Story, Marriage
Tagged , , , , ,

Posted by chococatania on February 14, 2013

http://thatgoodpart.wordpress.com/2013/02/14/six-years-in-one-post-part-11-of-the-ham-love-story/

Panda’s Prayer

I had one of those moments yesterday morning that I don’t ever want to forget.

Around 7:20 AM, as I was studying and doing my morning thing, I had a visitor come to me.

Panda!

Panda!

It is hard to imagine this girl anything other than happy, but she came to me, her eyes big, brimming with tears. I half expected her to tell on her sister (that may or may not happen most mornings). But things seemed a little different – the way she was holding back tears, rather than unloading her complaints because of an infraction made by a sibling.

I looked up at her, and listened.

Panda: Mom, yesterday a girl in my class was being really mean to me.
Me: [she had my attention] Is everything okay? What was going on?
Panda: She was in my group in science, and she was just being really mean to me.
Me: Oh, Panda, I’m …
Panda: But I said a prayer about it this morning, and I got my answer. If she says anything else to me, I will just remind her that we are all created in the image of God.

I scooped Panda up for a hug. I was touched by her faith. She went to Heavenly Father for guidance, and He answered her prayer! (Not that I doubted it, I’m just so happy about it!)

I took the moment to reinforce what she already had been taught. I reminded her that because she is created in God’s image, she is his daughter. He loves her. And that it was a good thing to remind the girl in her class that we are created in His image – and that God loves everyone.

I also wanted to help her see the miracle that had taken place that morning: She prayed, and Heavenly Father answered her through His Spirit.

As I stroked Panda’s hair, I could see that she still fought back the tears. I knew that though she was sad about being hurt, she was also comforted by God’s love. (and a little bit of my love, too.) It doesn’t get much better than that.

After a few minutes, I encouraged her to write this experience down in her journal – so that she wouldn’t forget it. She skipped off and was back to the happy little Panda that we all love.

And I basked in one of those rare moments as a mother.

I pray that my children will learn how to apply the gospel in their lives. I worry about them as they go off to school – that they will be hurt, feel lonely, or feel unloved. And I hope that what I have tried to teach them will help them to find comfort and happiness from the only source of Peace.

After Panda left, I ran up to my room to offer up my own prayer of gratitude. I’m grateful for a daughter who has listened. I’m grateful that instead of coming to me to help her solve this problem (which is a fine thing to do), she went to the Lord. I’m grateful that after her experience, she chose to share it with me and that I could physically comfort her with reinforcement, hugs, and forehead kisses. I’m happy that she’s happy, and that she’s learning how much Heavenly Father loves her.

8 Comments
by chococatania on February 13, 2013  •  Permalink
Posted in Family, Motherhood
Tagged , , , ,

Posted by chococatania on February 13, 2013

http://thatgoodpart.wordpress.com/2013/02/13/pandas-prayer/

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