Mormon Monday: Miracle of the Lamb

I recently got a new calling in my ward (congregation). I am now the 2nd councilor in the primary presidency.

That means that I am one of the four women that's in charge of helping the children's classes run smoothly. I am responsible for teaching all of the children once a month, and for helping them gain testimonies of their Savior.

It also means that when one of the teachers can't make it, sometimes I step into to teach a specific age group as well.

Last week I was asked to do that, and the lesson was on Christ's parable of the lost sheep. We talked about how our Savior loves each of us, and if one person is lost, he will do whatever it takes to find them. I had each of the children draw a picture of a lamb and then write their name on their page. Then, I would hide (or let them hide) their picture and everyone would look for it. I also shared the following story in a shortened version.

I hesitate to tell this story, because it is very sacred to me, but I feel like this is what I should write about today.

This story actually happened several years ago, when I was going to school to learn how to be a veterinarian. One of my favorite classes was called Sheep Production, and it was a very hands-on class. A couple of times a semester, we got to participate in what was called Lamb Watch. During this time, you would check on the ewes each hour, care for newborn lambs who were struggling, and sometimes help ewes deliver difficult lambs.

A few of the lambs at Lamb Watch.

One particular night, I had a young lamb in my care that was not doing well at all. The ram lamb was sprawled out in a very unhealthy position and his mouth was wet (a good sign of enterotoxemia). Almost as soon as we got inside, the ram lamb began to pant heavily, his tongue hanging out, and his breath coming out faster than I had ever heard a sheep pant before.  Normally, they only pant when they are giving birth.  I fed him a bit of colostrum, but the ram lamb continued to pant, almost at an increasing pace.  The TA that was there took his temperature and it was 107.5.  Normal for a lamb is 102.  We became worried at that point that he was going to boil his brains.

I held that lamb in my arms.  The TA proclaimed that the lamb was a goner. She had hope for its sister, which was walking around and curious, but the ram lamb wasn't doing well at all. The night was still, for it was very early in the morning and everyone else was asleep.  The TA was frantically searching on the internet for some way to help the lamb, while I sat still, praying harder than I’d ever prayed in my life.  All my concentration was focused on that tiny lamb, and though I knew that sometimes lambs die, I prayed that we would be able to find a way to save him.  At that moment, that tiny soul seemed infinitely precious and I couldn't stand the idea of losing that lamb. I began to massage his swollen tummy, and it seemed after a while (though it might have been my imagination) that the swelling was going down.  I continued to massage his stomach, and prayed harder.  I don’t know how long I held the panting, dying lamb, before a thought came to my mind.  Following the thought, I made the comment to the TA that “perhaps we could put him in cold water, to help the temperature go down.”

She said that she doubted that would help and I nodded, accepting that she was in charge and knew much more than I did, and continued holding the lamb.  The lamb's mouth was now dry from his panting, and his stomach seemed less swollen, but he continued to run an alarmingly high temperature.  I was also worried he was going to hyperventilate.  The TA gave him a few shots of some different things to help him, but nothing seemed to relieve him.

After a long while, she asked me to go out and check on the other lambs.  I knew she was trying to get rid of me for a minute and I went out, dreading what I would see on my return.  All the lambs were fine, and no more ewes had given birth, so I returned.

As I walked inside the door, the TA was on the floor with the lamb.  Next to her was an empty shot, and I knew at that moment she was decided whether or not to inject the lamb with a bubble of air and end its suffering.  She examined it, her face twisted with the difficult problem that faced her, for she loved the lambs as much (or more) than I did.  Then with a kind of shrug, she said, “What the heck (word changed).”  Then she walked over to the sink and turned on the tap.  I asked her if she was filling it with cold water, and she said, “No, lukewarm.  We don’t want to cause to much of a shock to his system.”  As the water filled the sink and we placed the lamb inside of the water, instantly he stopped panting and relaxed.  His body was covered in the warm water and he seemed to be much more comfortable.  We let him relax for several minutes, his panting at last silenced, and then we removed him from the water and wrapped him in a towel.  The lamb remained calm and seemed to still be comfortable.  She took his temperature, and it had dropped all the way to 105.  “That,” she said, “we can deal with.”  A little while later, he began to pant again, but it was at a much slower rate.  We checked his temp again, and it had risen a mere .3 degrees.  So, he had only gone back up to 105.5.  My prayer for that lamb had been answered.  I prayed a silent thank you, and from then until I left at 7, we continued to dip the lamb at intervals.  He continued to improve.  I left that morning with his chances at survival not certain, but greatly improved. 

This is a very sacred experience for me. As that lamb hovered on the edge of death, there was a very special spirit in that place that has lingered with me when I remember this story. One of the most important things I learned from this is that Heavenly Father loves all of His creations. If He would help me to save a tiny ram lamb, how much more does He care about us, His children.

I told a shorter version of this to my six-year-olds, and then I concluded with, "Heavenly Father loves all of us, even more than our mothers do."

One little girl's mouth popped open and she asked, "Even more than my mom?" The thought was incomprehensible to her, but I assured her it was true.

I know that Heavenly Father helped us to save that lamb that night. I have seen his guiding hand save me when I have become lost or stumbled in my journey. I am still a foolish sheep who often gets lost, but I am comforted by the thought that Heavenly Father and his Son are constantly looking to help me stay on the path.

We are His sheep, and He is our shepherd. If we listen to His voice and follow Him, we will be led to safety and recover from the fevers of this world.

Concerting this matter, Christ said (Matthew 18: 3-5,10-14):

3 And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.
 4 Whosoever therefore shall humble himself as this little child, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
 5 And whoso shall receive one such little child in my name receiveth me.  

10 Take heed that ye despise not one of these little ones; for I say unto you, That in heaven their angels do always behold the face of my Father which is in heaven.

 11 For the Son of man is come to save that which was lost.
 12 How think ye? if a man have an hundred sheep, and one of them be gone astray, doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth into the mountains, and seeketh that which is gone astray?
 13 And if so be that he find it, verily I say unto you, he rejoiceth more of that sheep, than of the ninety and nine which went not astray.
 14 Even so it is not the will of your Father which is in heaven, that one of these little ones should perish.

Family Friday: Independence Day and T.C. Howell

Happy Independence Day everyone!

We have a fun evening planned where we will spend time with family and light some fireworks.

I've finally picked another regular topic to go with my blog. Friday's will now be Family Friday. My plan is to share a story from either an ancestor or a relative. I think it will be an awesome way to compile some family stories and learn more about those who are the most important to me.

We want to include stories from both my and Grig's side of the family, so if you are related to us, please e-mail me some stories. They can be funny, spiritual, sad, happy, or precious. Whatever you'd like to share. Also, let me know if you want me to include your name, or if you want to be kept anonymous.

For Independence Day, I wanted to share a story about someone who fought in the revolution from our family. However, when I called my dad this morning, he told me that most of our ancestors actually fought for Britain.

"We're loyal," he pointed out.

After thinking about that, I had to agree that this is how our family is. We tend to be very loyal. He said he'd look for our ancestors who fought on the side of America. Also, he told me about a great story from the Mormon Battalion. I think I'm going to share that story.

T. C. Howell was a Mormon (a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints). At the time, the government had been persecuting the members of our church, and they had faced a lot of hardships. However, when the call came for some volunteers to serve our country, they were not happy to go, but they went anyway.

Though they had been oppressed by the current government, they still loved and wanted to serve their country. That's pretty patriotic if you ask me.

So, T.C and several others formed the Mormon Battalion in the Mexican-American War. Their first commander, who was not a member of the church, was a wonderful man, and they loved him. However, after a while he was replaced by a less-likable fellow named Lieutenant Colonel Smith, who was verbally and physically abusive. They still followed his directions, but no one really liked him.

As a precaution at the time, when someone tried to enter the camp, the Colonel insisted that they had to tell the man on sentry-duty a password. This was to prevent enemies from entering without their knowledge. He came up with the password every night himself.

One night, the Colonel Smith got very drunk while he was away from camp. He came staggering back in, and my ancestor, T.C. Howell stopped him in his tracks.

"What's the password?" he asked.

The Colonel gave him a password, but it was not the right password. Instead, he told him the password from the day before.

My ancestor told him he couldn't come in.

"I'm the commander!" the man roared.

"If you can't remember the password, you must not be the commander," T.C. replied, and threw the man in the brig.

The next morning, the Colonel was sober and very angry, and insisted that he had remembered the right password. Finally, they showed him in his own handwriting that he had chosen a different password for that night. He was still furious, but T.C. was a hero to the rest of the camp (and his descendants).

According to another document I found on the story (link here), this encounter not only enraged Colonel Smith, but frightened him as well.

...for he afterwards remarked to another officer, that the man who took him prisoner "would just as leave kill a man as look at him."

That's pretty awesome. It goes on to state:

Those who are acquainted with the peaceable character of Brother Howell will be able to appreciate the effect of his firmness upon the Colonel, for there was generally nothing blood-thirsty indicated in his looks or manner.

That concludes our first Family Friday.

I also wanted to add that I love our country. I am a huge fan of people from other countries as well, and I love learning about their different cultures. However, I am so grateful that I was born in America. I read a comment from someone the other day asking, "What's so great about America?"

I want to answer that question.

America began world-wide freedom. At the time the country was formed, there were no republics or democracies. Monarchies and communism flourished. America is a David and Goliath story where a few settlers were able to overthrow a tyrannical ruler.

America was led by inspired men who created an incredible document: The Constitution.

America is great because of our history or freedom and our efforts to help those in need. We are also great because of the Constitution.

Currently, I don't agree with everything that our leaders are doing in Washington, but like my ancestors before me, I love my country. Even if I don't always agree with my leaders, I still try to support them in their righteous causes.

A lot of other countries have freedom now. We are not as unique as we once were, and I'm grateful for that. I'm grateful that others now can vote, speak their minds, and make their own choices.

America is also great because it is beautiful and friendly. Having driven from one side of this country to the other, I met incredible people and we saw beautiful country. We observed many native species (and a few non-native ones). I don't recall any part of the country where there wasn't beauty. We also never met a mean soul.

I love this country a lot. Sometimes I feel like people are too busy trying to find reasons to hate America instead of trying to find the beauty in it. We need to be that way toward other countries as well. There is beauty in every country and culture. We can respect and love all our brothers and sisters regardless of where they live.

This country has been very good to my family and my religion (for the most part). We believe that this is the only country that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints could have been restored on. That alone makes me love this country.

The fist holiday the early Saints celebrated when they reached Utah was the 4th of July.

Happy Independence Day!

Exercising!

For the first time in a few months, I exercised...by myself!

Last month I played indoor soccer with some ladies from the church, but after gaining a few pounds on our trip and being told by a friend that she'd wondered if I was pregnant, I was feeling motivated to work out. (I wasn't offended, but inspired.)

The only problem is that my inhaler ran out and we haven't been able to get an appointment yet to refill it. So, even though my asthma is allergy-induced, it sometimes crops up when I'm running. My mother suggested that I run indoors, and I decided to give it a try.

So, I turned on a workout video while Kevin was sleeping and started.

I'd forgotten how good it feels to get your muscles moving. I'm not much of a runner (unless I'm playing a sport), but I do love how I feel after I've been exercising.

My favorite probably is riding bikes, but our bikes are still in Idaho, so that's not available right now.

Anyway, I was pretty stoked about the progress I made on my goals yesterday. I did all of them except write, and that's only because I'm working on the surprise animation. Hopefully, you guys like it.

As far as Kevin is concerned, we moved back into our own room last night. He didn't fall asleep until 11:00 p.m., but once he did, I was able to take a shower and go to bed. Unfortunately, I didn't fall asleep for a while, and he woke up about 12:30 a.m. I quickly jumped up, and went to find him. We'd left his door open so he could come into our room, but instead of doing that, he ran to the living room and climbed into the chair next to the computer and started crying. I put him back in his bed, and then I was able to fall asleep as well. At about 4:00 a.m. he climbed into our bed and spent the rest of the night there.

Progress though!

No one told me when I had a baby that showers would be very difficult to take. I pretty much can only shower when Kevin is asleep or Grig is home. That severely limits my options.

Ah well. A few small sacrifices are nothing compared to Kevin. He's worth it, even if I'm a stinky mom sometimes.

Dusting Off Goals and Burning Imagination

Yesterday was a nice day. Kevin and I played outside for a while, and I worked on accomplishing some dusty new year's goals. I decided to pull them back out and wipe them off. I got most of them done, and that was pretty nice. I hadn't thought about them in a while, but it was nice to work on them again. I guess since the year's half over, it's time to have a look at what I still need to work on.

Last night I had a really hard time sleeping. Part of it was that Kevin took forever to fall asleep last night. Or at least, it seemed like forever. It took him an hour to settle down and finally fall asleep in his bed, but it finally happened.

However, as I laid down on our makeshift bed on the floor, my mind began to race.

The first thing that I thought about was how to transition off the floor of Kevin's room, which led to this horrific (imagined) scene where he was in his room alone and I woke up to find the apartment on fire. Knowing that my baby was on the other side of the bedroom door, I opened the door, even though they tell you not to do that. Then I ran through the fire to open his bedroom door so I could rush in. In this imagined scene, Grig followed me. Most of the flames were in the hall and the living room, blocking our exit. How were we to get out?

My hair was possibly all burned off at this point too, because I had raced through the flames in order to reach my baby.

I contemplated the three of us putting the comforter over our heads and running through the flames to the door. That might protect us long enough to get out of the house. Then, I thought about running to the bathroom across the hall and turning on the water. Could we put the fire out ourselves?

Sometimes I hate my imagination.

Needless to say, all these thoughts caused me to be wide-awake and no longer sleepy. I decided after laying there for another hour that I might as well get up. I made Grig lunch for the next day and then went to work on a new project. It's a brilliant idea, if I do say so myself. However, I want to keep this one under-wraps until I finish with it. I'm pretty excited about it. It is another animation (and don't worry I haven't forgotten about Dragon and the Wolf), but completely different.

After working on the new project for a while, I went back to bed. Kevin slept for a long time in his bed last night, and honestly, I don't remember when he joined us on the floor. Hopefully tonight, we can move out of his room.

We just need to borrow a baby monitor to assuage our fears.

Moving Rooms, Haircuts, and Garter Snakes

We've been trying to make a big change in our home.

We decided that it's time for Kevin to move to his own bedroom.

Due to this, over the last couple of days we haven't gotten much sleep. The first night, I was just going to stay in there until he fell asleep, but he stood on his bed with his arms stretched toward the door grasping at the air. I finally figured out that he wanted his dad.

So, we have slept on his bedroom floor the last two nights to help him get used to sleeping in there. He's been doing pretty well. He fought it pretty hard the first night, but during his nap yesterday he went right to sleep in his own bedroom.

When nighttime came, he wasn't too sure about it again, but as soon as our pseudo-bed was made on the floor he settled down and went to sleep. He slept most of the night on his own, but at about 3:30 a.m., he put himself between the two of us. It was pretty cold, so I didn't make him go back in his own bed. It's hard to find a happy medium with the temperature in our house.

We don't have air-conditioning, so at night we leave all the windows open and use a window fan. However, this can make it pretty cold in the bedroom. It's hard to want to turn it off though, because then it's too warm during the daytime.

Grig and I are okay, but Kevin hates blankets and always kicks them off.

It's a work-in-progress.

Yesterday, I also gave Grig and Kevin haircuts. I had been intending to cut their hair before our trip to Virginia, but then I realized his grandma would want to see his curly hair. She was grateful I waited to cut it.

Here's Kevin's before and after pictures:

It turned out quite well.

Here's the back:

He has a lot of hair.

For family home evening, we went swimming in the river last night. Well, swimming is perhaps the wrong term. Wading is probably more like it. At one point, we were walking upstream and it was getting thigh-high. It was pretty hard going for a while, but a lot of fun.

It was also pretty cold. It was fairly warm outside, so the water felt pretty good.

Grig also managed to catch a garter snake, so that was awesome! We were climbing over a tree, and Grig spotted it. He quickly jumped over the fallen trunk, and snagged the end of it. It was a pretty good sized one. We hadn't brought the camera with us, but it looked a lot like this one, with big spots on its body.

Its head seemed flatter than the ones in Idaho, but maybe that's because it was sleeping under a log.

Who knows?

We're finally getting back to the normal schedule. It's nice to be home.