So I've missed a couple weeks. Isn't it funny how time slips away from you? I'm back due to popular demand. (Almost three people asked about what had happened to my blog!) Today you'll review two things. First, a definition:
Second, let's talk about a specific set of homophones: There, Their, They're.
Circle (in your mind, not on your screen!) which one to use:
Look! There/Their/They're playing with there/their/they're dog overthere/their/they're!
A: They're playing with their dog over there. Why?
They're is a contraction for (short for) they are. If you could swap out "they are" for the "there/their/they're" in the sentence, then use they're.
Their is a possessive pronoun---a word that indicates ownership. Sometimes possessive pronouns can be used alone: That dog is theirs. Sometimes a possessive pronoun can be used modify a noun: That is their dog.[Please notice that there is NOT an apostrophe in the "That dog is theirs." The apostrophe indicating ownership only applies to nouns, not possessive pronouns.]
There simply means "that location." Notice that "here" is a part of the spelling of "there" and that they both indicate location. A trick to remembering if you should use "there" is to substitute "here" into your sentence, "They're playing with their dog over here." Does it still make sense? It may change the meaning, but if it would still work in a sentence, use "there."
Did you know that yesterday was Tuesday? I didn’t. You know how when there’s a holiday on Monday, the day after Monday still feels like a Monday because you are doing your Monday things? So it didn’t occur to me to post. I’m sure you were disappointed.
Nevertheless I’ll continue on with today’s lesson. Your verses You’re. In my humble opinion, this is the most serious and obvious grievance in all of editing, and it’s the easiest to solve without having to look it up (like the lay/lie/laid/lied question I’m always turning to in my Chicago Manual of Style).
You’re is a contraction of “you are.”
Your is a possessive pronoun (a word in place of a noun which indicates possession).
Quiz time:
I hope your/you’re bringing your/you’re camera to the game tonight.
How did you do? If you answered “you’re” then “your” you got 100%!
Stumped? What we really meant was “I hope you are bringing the camera that belongs to you to the game tonight.” So the questions to ask in this situation are: 1) do I really mean “you are,” and if not, 2) Does something belong to someone? If the answer to both questions is no, then probably you’re trying to spell “yore” as in “Days of Yore.” But maybe you were writing “Days of your life” in which case the days belong to you, and your would be correct after all! Ah, I think I’m funny sometimes late at night.
So? No more awkward moments for all of us on facebook ever again, right? (Remember the time that I mentioned this very issue on facebook and seriously got un-friended by a couple of people---good times!)
Who or Whom? This one seems SO complicated, but it's actually very simple to figure out. The funny thing about this one is that people tend to toss out a "whom" just to sound fancy here and there. The sad thing is that "whom" is not interchangeable with "who." In fact, they are never interchangeable.
Here's how to do it:
Someone knocks at the door. "Who is at the door?" You yell at your kids who are looking out the window. Wait! Maybe the guy at the door is the Bishop! Maybe it's someone else important. "Whom is at the door?!" You correct yourself in a sing-song voice----all the way saying "Crap!" under your breath because now you've proven yourself a second-guessing grammar geek. Then upon arriving at the door it's only a teenager selling the newspaper. (You got up for that!?)
So which is it? Remember last week how I said you just ask yourself a question? When it comes to who/whom you ask yourself a question using actual words from the sentence in question and answer using actual words from the sentence. The key is to also answer with one of the following words: He, Him, They, or Them.
Q: Who/whom is at the door? A: He is at the door.
Because your answer was "he" you will know that "who" was the right word to use in the sentence.
Let's clarify with a whom answer. Q:To who/whom did you say the doughnut belongs? A:The doughnut belongs to him.
Ah! Him! Him ends in m so you will use "whom" which also ends in m. So here's the rule: If your answer uses him or them, use whom. If your answer uses they or he, use who.
One more? Q: Who/whom should I give these flowers to?[I see the prepositional phrase at the end of the sentence. Do you? We'll cover why that is a no-no soon.] A:Give the flowers to her.
Wait! We didn't cover what to do if the answer is HER! Think, think, think.... Her and Him are used similarly, as are he and she. So if the answer is her, it would also be him---so use whom. If the answer uses she, it's the same as he---so use who. Got it?
Exceptions to this rule? I don't think so!
**One thing I don't know is how to designate specific words when I do these blogs. Sometimes I think I should put it in quotes (if the answer uses "she," it's the same as "he"----so use "who") but that looked way too busy. So I tried italics, but that was also a mess. So I left it alone. Is it confusing?
I got lots of good comments (and even some requests!) last week, so I'm going to continue with this week's version of Teach Me Tuesday. Today we'll address the possessive apostrophe/when it is actually appropriate to use 's.
Maybe you're wondering about this sentence: Those are Jims candy bars.
Now hopefully last week you read about using s (without an apostrophe) to make things plural, so you know that "candy bars" is correct. [Sidenote: they taught me in editing school that "hopefully" is not actually a word---it should be written "with hope." That's a rule I choose to break.] Now you are wondering about putting an apostrophe in Jims.
One great trick to figuring out grammar is to turn the problem-sentence into a question. For example: Do the candy bars belong to Jim? If the answer is yes, then use the apostrophe to indicate possession. Correct: Those are Jim's candy bars.
Now let's practice:
You're sending out your cute neighbor gift for Christmas. You want to sign it "Love, The Herrins."
You start to stress. You try: "Love, The Herrin's." You think about possession and convince yourself that possession is indicated because the love expressed does indeed belong to the Herrins. Yikes! That's tough! You may be tempted to even write: "Love, The Herrins's." I've seen it, folks! Well, dear Christmas card writer, your first impression was correct. When signing a letter or a card the plural is correct---no apostrophe here! You are simply indicating that more than one Herrin wishes the recipient love. Better yet, save yourself (especially if your name ends in s) and just sign it "Love, The Herrin Family."
One more: If you were driving past my house and someone asked, "Whose house is that?" Your answer would be "It's Jackie Herrin's house."The house belongs to me, so I get the apostrophe with my name. (And you would use my first name because you really want to avoid saying "It's the Herrins's house.")
As always there is an exception to the rule. You may have seen them in the previous paragraph. Whenever the 's would indicate a word that is a contraction, then there isn't an 's. For example, "who's" could be mistaken for "who is," so "whose'" is actually a possessive word. Same with "it's" being mistaken for "it is," so "its" becomes possessive: "The dog put its foot in its bowl. It's a stupid dog."
And that's it! Not too bad, right? Stay tuned next week for the easy, easy answer to the who/whom dilemma. You'll love it---and you'll sound so smart!
I've decided to start a new series on my blog. Teach Me Tuesday.
Background: I graduated with a major in English and a minor in editing. My BYU class was the first to have that option. I love words, and I love grammar. I'm not always perfect here on my blog. I don't really think it is a place to require perfection, but I do try my best and give everything I write a quick once-over before I push publish. I know most of the rules---or I know how to look them up. Sometimes I choose to break the rules when I'm writing. For example: I love to start sentences with conjunctions---sometimes I just feel strongly that a sentence needs to begin with "And." I figure since I know the rules I can break the less set-in-stone rules.
And to the point: I thought it would be good review for me, and good information for whoever cares to read it, to review some basic grammar principles. First up: The Plural Apostophe
There is a trend out there where people use the apostrophe to make things plural (plural=more than one).
Here is a bad example:I saw two dog's on the side of the road.
The correct way to write that would be: I saw two dogs on the side of the road.
Whenever you want to indicate that something is plural, or more than one, just add an s. If the word ends in s, z, ch, sh, or x add es to the end. No need for an apostrophe here folks! Of course there are times where an ies is needed, or it requires another word entirely (person/people), but that's why we have spell check!
Here's the exception to the rule (there are always exceptions to every rule!):
When you want to make a specific number or letter plural, you'll need to use an apostophe:
I have two r's in my last name. I have one number 2 and no number 3's.
Now, I can almost hear you asking, "What about my CD collection? Do I have CDs or CD's?" Here's the easy answer: You have compact discs.Whenever you're unsure, just change it up!
Stay tuned for next week where you'll learn that there actually is a time to use an apostrophe before an s!
Shocker, right? Here are things that run around in my head sometimes: Why don't you know to be a more considerate driver? Why aren't you nicer to your waitress? Why don't you know that you shouldn't let your baby wander around church? Why don't you know how to be kind to animals? Why don't you have your newborn wearing a onsie under his clothes? Why isn't living the gospel more important to you? Why do you think it's okay to break little or big laws? Why do you dress like a skank (for lack of a better word)? Why don't you know that an apostrophe should almost never be used to make something plural? WHY??!??!??
I do it. I notice things and wonder why people behave the way they do. Lately though I've started to think there might be one common answer: Their mothers did not teach them. (Or they were taught and just choose not to care. And in that case, shame on them.) But if your mother didn't teach you, how could you know how truly important some things are? Well, besides the law-breaking part. And the apostrophe. Some things you can learn other places :)
This new way of thinking has helped me be a lot less critical of people. Perhaps their mother did not teach them to be considerate to others and to animals. Perhaps their mother never taught them to be a mother or to respect their body. As I said before, I know a lot of moms do their very best. And I know a lot of people do not have mothers at all. And I am sure that my children fail in many areas because I have failed them, but my point is that I've tried to change my way of thinking to the idea that people were never really taught these basic things.
Grandma Rhoda, me, Claire, my mom---Halloween 2006
My mom has taught me so many things. I've learned of unconditional love, of respect for all of God's creations, and of respect for myself. I've learned from her example AND continued instruction of how to be a mother and how to care for children. She may not have taught me about the proper use of apostrophes, but she did teach me to go to school every single day and do my best to learn ever single thing I could while I was there.
She, like her mother before her, taught me that there is usually some (if not a lot of) good in everyone. That most people want to do good and will do good when given the opportunity. I am so grateful to her and to my grandma for giving me that positive, optimistic hope for people.
My mom taught me to live my religion---that there is no half-way or standing still when it comes to righteousness. Tough as that is to accept sometimes, it has made me a better, stronger person. I'm still working on perfecting it, but I have a lot of great women in my life who have set wonderful examples to follow. I'm sure I still have a lot to learn, but I am so grateful for them and the knowledge and practices they have passed on to me.
My mom cared enough not just to raise me, but to create a decent person, wife, and mother along the way.Thanks, Mom!
We’ve just returned from a trip to Seattle for Taylor’s Grandfather’s funeral (grandparent funeral #3 in two months for those of you who are counting). My kids were great. Better than expected---with the exception of a meltdown on the final day. Trust, me you’ll want to stick round to read that post.
The kids were excited because it was their first time to ride on an airplane. When they found out they would be going on an airplane they clapped, yelled, hugged each other and generally rejoiced. I told them I would pack their clothes and that they should pack a few things in their backpacks to play with on the plane. Kyle packed about 20 Hotwheels, his play cell phone, and every single toy airplane he owns. Claire, a bit more sensible, packed a few books, her journal, and every CD she owns (not sure why). Both packed their toothbrushes in their backpacks. We lightened their loads a bit but kept to the general theme.
We woke the kids up at 4:30 am on Friday. Just in time to catch a glimpse of the royal wedding. Claire was impressed. We got to the airport and parked by 6:00. When we got on the shuttle Kyle asked if it was the airplane. No. And it wouldn’t become and airplane. He was pretty confused, but it was super early.
We met Taylor’s parents there, Don (hereafter known as Tie Guy) and Kerry Lynn (hereafter known as Gram). The kids had strict instruction to hold someone’s hand at all times during the trip. This caused a number incidents for Kyle when his hands were full of luggage, food, or seashells and he’d start to cry. When we asked him why he was crying he’d always respond, “The problem is my hands are full and I can’t hold someone’s hand!” Here he is holding Tie Guy’s hand and Claire with T.
We got on the plane with relative ease. The girls and the boys rode together. Claire held my hands tightly for takeoff. I was really nervous she’d throw one of her infamous fits when her ears hurt because of the pressure, but we were armed with gum and she did fine. I have to say that each and every time I fly I’m a bit nervous and completely in awe of the fact that planes can actually fly. And no matter where I fly, the view is always breathtaking to me. When we were approaching Seattle Claire and I saw a circular rainbow that you can only see from planes. It was awesome. I didn’t get a picture of it, but this is pretty much what it looked like:
When we arrived in Seattle we rented a van. It took a little while. The kids had been up for hours at that time and this is how they ended up while we were waiting:
We had breakfast at The Brown Bag, a family favorite restaurant. Kyle ordered a gigantic pancake, it was at least a foot in diameter and super thick. He ate the entire thing. After that we headed to Carkeek Park on the shore of the Puget Sound. A train runs alongside the park, and we were lucky enough to see two of them. Tie Guy spent a lot of time at that park when he was a little boy, and it was a lot of fun seeing it with him.
Can you see Kyle in this picture? He kind of blended into the scenery.
Gram and her funny glasses:
Taylor was an awesome dad and dug around in the ocean for creatures. Toward the end I don’t even think he noticed when his shoes and pants were getting wet. He was able to find a bunch of crabs under a big rock. Can you see it?
A funny picture of Tie Guy. He doesn’t blend as well as Kyle.
Here’s a funny picture I took of a crab’s eye view…
And here’s a cool picture of Tie Guy on the beach.
There were a bunch of “crab heads” at this beach. The kids loved them. Kyle walked up to Gram and said, “Here, Gram. Why don’t you put this crab head in your pocket for me.” If you know Gram and her aversion to creeping things you would know how funny it was. Maybe you had to be there. Here is Kyle having a little roaring battle between two crabs. I know it looks like they are kissing, but trust me, it’s a fierce fight. Kyle loved the crab heads.
The next morning Taylor’s sister and her husband, Rob, had arrived. Kyle was telling them about the crabs and Rob explained to him that you eat the crabs. Kyle got a really worried look on his face then brightened up and said, “Oh, I know! It is just pretend!” Bless his little heart. Of course that night we dined at a seafood restuarant and he found out just how not-pretend it was, but we’ll get to that tomorrow.
I turn 30 at the end of this month. On the 30th to be exact. Apparently that's a special birthday to have both numbers match up. I'll look forward to the magic.
I've been noticing a few things lately---other than the calendar---that indicate my age. The list comes with good and bad:
My knee hurts. I don't remember doing anything specific to cause the pain, but suddenly I'm favoring it, taking ibuprofen before bed, and waking a few times with pain during the night. I'm not particularly in shape, so this comes as no surprise.
Another sign of my body betraying me is that everything I eat is suddenly showing up in my waist and arms. This actually started when I turned 29, it's just taken me a year to realize that it's not a passing thing. Looks like it's here to stay, and if I want to do something about the weight I'm going to have to do more than think about it a few times. My mother said this would happen. Claire points it out to me weekly; bless her heart.
I like me (well, so far today I do). While I certainly have and have not had this feeling in the past, it's different now. One thing I've realized is that it's really easy to like yourself when you are easy to like. Like when I weighed 115 pounds, and I was Miss Utah, and boys were lined up all around me, and I could play the piano so effortlessly, and I spent my days speaking and serving---that was easy. Now---far past the 115 pounds, I struggle to get through my few piano performances, sometimes no one listens to me, and sometimes I fail miserably at my responsibilities of being a mother and wife. Boys still hang on me, but usually it's a three-year-old who needs his nose wiped and help going potty or a husband who still insists I'm hot, but may just be saying that because I'm his only (ethical) chance at getting any. Although I do speak (sometimes loudly) at my children and serve them all day, the tangible rewards are far different. But I'm settling into an easy flow with my life and who I am. It's comfortable. I like it
My long-complained-about acne problem seems to be resolving itself (knock-on-wood). Maybe it's age, maybe it's the face wash I found, but with that going away it's time to take a serious look at wrinkle cream. I've dabbled in it a bit before, but I think it's high time to preserve my skin. Suggestions?
We will register Claire for kindergarten in two weeks. I know that many of my peers have children well into the education experience, and that technically I should have sent her last year, but it still freaks me out to think I have a kid in kindergarten.
We have time-consuming church callings. I actually love that this change is happening. We love our callings, and we love being useful. Nonetheless it's a sign of growing up. With T in the Bishopric and me in the Relief Society Presidency we have at least two nights of meetings a week and very busy Sundays. This week we both have overlapping meetings tonight and last night that we'll be passing the kids to each other and other people, and one or both of us will do visits at some other point. This is how our parents always were, and it makes us feel like we're doing something right to have our lives be so full and so blessed.
We have a mortgage. While this makes us feel very grown up, it also makes us very happy to have the house we've worked so hard to have. We have done some painting and arranging around the house lately. I think we've finally realized that we're here to stay and not just hang out until the next move. The yard will continue to improve this year, and hopefully we'll get a great garden in. My roses are bursting to life as we speak (even in the cold), and being responsible for our little bit of earth makes me feel grown up.
Our cars are almost paid off---yeah!
Our marriage is better than ever. Not that it has ever really struggled, ever. It just improves with time, and I love that. We are definitely half of a whole, and I love who we have become together.
As I've mentioned before, we are entering a stage of our lives where the people we love and admire are leaving this earth. In fact, Taylor's other grandpa is in the very end-stages of life and will likely be spending Easter with Jesus this year. This is the season of life that we are in. We've had a rushed and rough entry into this season, yet it causes us to grow, to reaffirm our testimonies, and to cherish our family a little bit more.
So I'll be 29 for a few more days. I love that I'll turn 30 in the late springtime of the year. I feel like it's symbolic of this time in my life. I'm definitely starting the summer of my life. I'm letting go of the spring, and I'm excited not to be a twenty-something. My twenties were ofttimes thrilling, life-changing, and rewarding, but the last half of the decade has been rough. I'm excited to be past that; I'm excited to be a grown-up. I know that I'm not likely to feel any different that exact day(Remember when Claire turned four? She got up, looked in the mirror and cried. "I still look like a baby! I don't look like I'm 4!"), but I know that it's something I'll grow into. And, despite the unfavorable parts listed above, I'm really looking forward to that.
Taylor and both of our kids naturally hold their hands this way. It's how we know they are his---and because they are practically little Taylor clones in every other way.
It's funny how much of us are in our kids. Kyle and I have identical tastes in food: we like mustard, spicy things, and chunky sauces. We will basically eat anything put in front of us, and we will do basically anything for chocolate---even for just one single chocolate chip. Taylor and Claire are anti-mustard, anti-spicy, anti-sauce, and take-it-or-leave-it when it comes to chocolate. Although Taylor has branched out as an adult (still no mustard or tomatoes or anything with a "funny texture"), it is reported that Toddler-Taylor liked everything "naked" from hamburgers to noodles to mashed potatoes. Claire has picked this up without encouragement or previous knowledge---not even ketchup on a hamburger, nor spaghetti or alfredo sauce on pasta, and no gravy on potatoes!
It goes the other way too: Claire has my eyes. Kyle has Taylor's. Both of their hands rest in the same odd position that Taylor's do. They're both super-smart---just like us. Just kidding---because only Claire shows signs of being super smart so far :) Anyway, it's interesting to see parts of yourself in your children. One disheartening thing I've noticed is that Claire has nearly every single one of my bad qualities.
Take for instance the other day: The kids and I set out to clean up Claire's room. If you have ever seen her room, you know the monstrous undertaking this can be. It had probably been three weeks since any adult had made much of an effort to do more than hang up her laundry.
Claire's closet on a typical day.
So there we were; I was giving the orders, and the kids were supposed to be following the orders:
Me: Kyle, please throw that away. (And he leaves to do it)
Me: Claire, please put your pajamas in their drawer (She walks in the general direction of the pajama drawer but gets distracted by a doll. Kyle returns.)
Me: Kyle, please go hang this up. (Kyle heads to closet)
Me: Claire, remember how I said put up the pajamas? Put them up! (Kyle returns)
Me: Kyle, can you go throw this away now? (Kyle leaves.)
Me (annoyed): Claire, put your pajamas in the drawer or they will go in the garbage.
Claire: Well...it would be easier that way.
It went on that way for 2 hours. I think she accomplished maybe five things I asked her to do---in the end both of us got so frustrated that we quit when it was 90% done. She spent the next hour cleaning up (AKA playing with) her dollhouse. She gets it from me. Lucky girl.
I'm an awful housekeeper. I'm lousy at it. Nothing about tidying up a house comes naturally for me. At all. Never has. Probably never will. I know for a fact that since last August our entire house (every room, every bathroom, every surface) has been completely clean at the same time exactly two times. Two times in eight months! I have good runs and small victories. On Wednesdays the entire downstairs (minus the toy room) is clean because I teach piano lessons. On Mondays our bedrooms are pretty good because that's laundry day and it's easier to vacuum without clothes all over the floor! But on every other day of the week it's up in the air. Each day it seems that I wrangle something: the bathrooms, the kitchen (most days my kitchen has moments of being almost clean), my closet, the dreaded toy room, the loft. But if I do more than that it means I'll ignore my kids, and they are completely destructive to whatever part of the house I am not currently arranging.
I need to clarify that I don't need you to call the Hoarders show on me. Or the health department. Or even Merry Maids (well, maybe them if you're willing to pay...) We are neither pest nor mold infested. It's just the clutter that's the problem for me. It's mostly kid clutter, but I'll admit to being guilty for a part of it too. At least I must be the other responsible party, because Taylor is so seldom here.
And I try. I really do. But I'm not effective. This is evidenced by Claire's comments to me the other day: "Mom? Do you think I'll be a good mom?" I assured her she'd be great, and she responded, "Well, I'm just worried about it because all you do all day is clean---and I hate cleaning!" Clearly if I do it all day, and we're still not clutter-free, we do have a problem.
I think I improve by about 2.5% every year. So by the time I'm about 80 I think I'll have this down. In the meantime it kills me to see that this quality has been passed on to her. I'm pretty sure it's on the Nature side of the Nature vs Nurture argument, because my mom was great at this, she certainly tried to teach me. Repetitively and continuously :)
Claire has some other bad qualities of mine. I can already tell she's a "hair nerd" like me and my mother before me. It took me until probably last year until I didn't feel alone when I am in a group. I see that in her and it breaks my heart. Our moods are pretty up and down which might explain why we both love Elvis Costello's song "She;" the lyrics describe us perfectly:
She may be the song that summer sings
May be the chill that autumn brings
May be a hundred different things
Within the measure of a day
I do have good qualities I hope that she gains. She's a natural at the piano, so she's got that one down. Claire sings in public without fear and already really enjoys public speaking (just like me, but not the singing part). It's interesting that we all have different abilities though. This morning my friend Katie (who happened to be Miss America and coincidentally is good at singing) blogged about how she's not good at cooking. And you know what, I'm a great cook (probably Katie's house is always clean!). I love to cook, and I can even add, subtract, or substitute ingredients at will without things going horribly wrong. And I do it on a very, very frugal budget spending usually $200 a month and always less than $300 a month for our family of four. I'm also great at staying on top of laundry (with Taylor's help). I wouldn't consider it a forte of mine, but it certainly doesn't stress me out like it seems to stress a lot of people. I never have the proverbial mountain of laundry, so I must be doing something right.
Whenever I get down on myself about my complete lack of tidy skills (which is nearly every day) I have to remind myself about the things I can do: the cooking, the laundry, the sewing, piano, scrapbooking, and hopefully I can add blogging to that list. I can do some things! And I hope that one day Claire will be able to say that about herself---and about me! After all, going back to Costello's song, if you can get over the part of us that brings the autumn chill, the summer song part is pretty awesome. With Claire (and I hope with me) the end of the song rings ever true:
Me. I'll take her laughter and her tears
And make them all my souvenirs
For where she goes I've got to be
The meaning of my life is She.
And for fun here's a link to that song, along with the clip from Notting Hill that made me love it so much:
I haven't posted for an entire month. I guess I've been trying to pull myself back together after all the funerals. And while I usually write to deal with things, it didn't happen this time. We've been busy though. Since I posted I was called as the second counselor in our Relief Society (our church's women's organization), so that's had me way more busy than teaching Primary (children's organization) every other week :)
One thing that has nearly overwhelmed my thoughts since the last time I posted was the subject of prayer. I've never considered myself an above-average public, out loud pray-er. While my paternal grandfather could orate for hours (literally, I'm sure it's been done), and both of my parents have this quality----as evidenced by their prayer pads (gardening knee pads) that they have conveniently stored under their designated family prayer couch. I likely have the genes for it, but somehow I freeze up whenever it's my turn in class or (gasp!) Sacrament meeting. Words tumble, random and generic things come out of my mouth somehow twisted from their traditional usage. Does everyone feel this way? I regularly speak at church services for almost an hour without blinking an eye, but giving the prayer gives me instant cotton mouth. Probably I just need more practice.
Anyway, public prayer hasn't really been on my mind. It's more the personal kind of prayer. Three or four weeks ago in Primary my teaching partner, Bethany, gave a lesson on prayer. She asked class members to share examples from their lives where their prayers have been answered. I thought about what my example could be. I think I have prayed every single day of my life to find something that I have lost: shoes, keys, library books, my hair brush, my children (totally kidding), my mind (only kind of kidding). Really, I think I pray daily to find misplaced objects---and I usually find them quickly after the prayer, regardless of time spent searching prior to the prayer.
I pray for comfort, for the guidance of the Spirit, for healing, for health, for peace, for safety, for direction while driving, for my children, for my husband, for my parents and siblings and grandparents; my list could go on and on. And time after time my prayers have been answered.
I shared one specific dramatic answer to prayer with my Primary class. And I've thought about it over and over since that time. I don't know that I've had a more dramatic answer to prayer ever. I want to share it, not to boast of how great I am to have my prayer answered, but just to say how great God is. If ever I wonder if prayers are answered, I go back to this moment and get the resounding answer: Yes.
In a nutshell: I was 21 and set to go on a date with a boy. For a lot of reasons, it was important to me to be the one driving the two of us to and from the date. I requested that of him, and he thought I was being silly, that boys always drove on dates. So over lunch that afternoon my Mom and I prayed that things would work out and we would be safe. Probably within 30 minutes I got a call from him, and he said that he had a flat tire. The spare was also flat, and it looked like I'd have to drive. As I pulled up to pick him up on the side of the road I couldn't believe what I saw. The tire was not just flat---it was non-existent. It had literally blown off of the truck. Shreds of tire, none bigger than the size of my hand, were all along the roadside. He just kept saying, "I just don't see why this had to happen today."
Well, I knew why it happened. I drove and everything was fine. Maybe everything would have been even if he drove. We'll never know. And that's not the point. The important part to me was that my prayer was answered. Dramatically answered. And I have relied on that knowledge a lot.
One other thing that has got me thinking is unanswered prayers. I, for one, totally love the Garth Brooks song Unanswered Prayers. So many of the blessings in my life are products of unanswered prayers. I miscarried months before becoming pregnant with each of my children. Oh, how I prayed for those pregnancies to work out---but what if they had? I wouldn't have the children that I do have now. We prayed to get into dental school before Claire was born---what if that had turned out? I wouldn't have the friends I have now. We wouldn't live where we do now. We wouldn't be in the ward that we love so much.
Sometimes I pout when things don't go the way I planned or the way I wanted. I get upset when things seem unfair and unbearable---and sometimes it takes a long time for me to see past those things, but when I do I think of the found keys, the tire exploding, and of the sweet blessings that are mine because of unanswered prayers, and I do know that God is mindful and ever-present and always answering my prayers.
*Tire picture by Larry Page (not the actual tire from that day) *Hands picture by Katie Tegtmeyer
