this child

The camera loves her! And it helps that I love her too. I took these shots of her the Sunday after her baptism, when she was ready to go to church in her special dress. The bishop had Jacob and Julia come and sit on the podium, so he could introduce them to the ward. They simply beamed! Of course then after her introduction when she came back to sit with us 'common folk', she was in a huff because we wouldn't let her do whatever she wanted (play on the iPad for the duration of the service). Yes folks, even after baptism, you're still human.

julia's milestone

Turning 8 is something special in our family. Our beliefs teach us that when children are 8 years old, they are considered old enough to be baptized, and Julia made it very clear that that is a choice she wanted to make! I am so happy she made this choice because I, through experience, know what a tremendous source of strength and peace baptism and the gift of the Holy Ghost can be. Yesterday we celebrated Julia's baptism with family and friends, and a celebration it was. The service was so different from Lara's: only one other child - Jacob - was being baptized, and so we were able to coordinate directly with the other family to ensure we each took equal part in the service, and made it a personal and unforgettable experience for our them. We got lucky with the other family too, they were so easy going and helpful and friendly!

The kids looked radiant in their spotless white clothes. Julia's baptismal dress was the same one that Lara wore, handmade by my mother. Then after the baptismal ordinance itself I dried her off and she got to wear a beautiful white dress that my mother bought for all the girls in our family to wear if they want to. Julia's biggest worry was the water being cold, but that fear was quickly taken away when she dipped a toe into the font and found the water "sooooo nice and warm!!". Jacob's mother gave a talk about baptism, and afterwards Lara and Jacob's older brother Samuel sang a beautiful song. Then I got to speak on the Holy Ghost. The people who gave the prayers and the opening and closing hymns were all picked by Julia and Jacob, and aunt Marissa was sweet enough to accompany everything on the piano.

After the service and ordinances were done, we went back to our house for the after party (basically lots of food). Julia got to open some presents, and play with her siblings and cousins in the pool. After everyone had left I asked her if she'd had a good day. Her reply: "It was the best day ever!". A big thank you to everyone who helped make this day so great.

There is a soft spot in my heart for Julia. I recognize so much of myself in her. In part that makes me very proud, and excited to see all the things she will do, but often it makes me worry about the challenges I expect she will have to face in life. Because I know some of her weaknesses and challenges so personally, I am determined to give her as many tools as I possibly can to help her face and overcome each and every one. I know without a doubt that the best tool I can possibly show her is a strong relationship with her Heavenly Father. To have her realize that she is His daughter. That He loves her more, and better than I ever will be able to. That He is always there for her, to strengthen, comfort, and guide her every step through life.

journals Vs. blogs

 

Julia, May 2007, at the Ot & Sien Speeltuin in the Zuiderpark in The Hague 

Blogging might be a modern, quite recent development in history but it's not a very surprising one now is it? Why? Well, humans have been avid journal keepers, recorders of history for, uhm, all of history. I started keeping a journal when I was 8 years old, because I was given a journal on November 25th 1989, the day I was baptized into the Mormon Church. Both my parents and my aunt Sia gifted me a hardcover, square diary, with a lock and clear white pages, ready to be filled with everything that is important in the life of an 8-year-old girl. I mainly wrote about food. 

Since that first diary journal diary - ok which is it?! Quick moment of google research. Wikipedia says the following:

"A diary is a record (originally in handwritten format) with discrete entries arranged by date reporting on what has happened over the course of a day or other period. A personal diary may include a person's experiences, and/or thoughts or feelings, including comment on current events outside the writer's direct experience. Someone who keeps a diary is known as a diarist. Diaries undertaken for institutional purposes play a role in many aspects of human civilization, including government records (e.g., Hansard), business ledgers and military records.

Generally the term is today employed for personal diaries, normally intended to remain private or to have a limited circulation amongst friends or relatives. The word "journal" may be sometimes used for "diary," but generally a diary has (or intends to have) daily entries, whereas journal-writing can be less frequent." (italics added)

Definitely a journal then! So, since that first journal I have filled an impressive stack of them with mainly unimpressive entries. There have been many ups and downs, plenty of periods where due to laziness/a lack of creativity/poor memory I didn't write for months on end. But I kept finding new motivation to do better at keeping a regular journal. Often this motivation came from church and seeing girls slightly older than me, who I aspired to be like, keeping a journal. One day I visited Anne Frank's hiding place (het achterhuis) in Amsterdam and subsequently read her journal. I promptly christened my journal 'Kitty' and would dutifully start each entrance with 'Dear Kitty,'. Cringe!

Finally my motivation became the therapeutic essence of writing down my thoughts and feelings, and reading my old journals and realizing how valuable they had become to me. To anyone else they are most likely filled to the brim with the worst boring drivel imaginable, but to me they are full of precious moments that would have otherwise been forgotten. I read and can actually picture lively scenes, feel things I felt when I was 13, relearn lessons, and see previously overlooked connections and blessings. There are also entries that have been ripped out since they were written because they were so embarrassing in hindsight that the thought of anybody (especially my children) ever reading them was just too much to handle! I think Liz has an idea what I'm talking about. We had a good night of belly-splitting laughter thanks to one of my journals.

I have employed many methods of journaling over the past. I have kept a gratitude journal, an art journal, a photo journal. I have set myself weekly writing challenges, I have let others set me weekly challenges. I have recorded quotes I like such as "Those who do not keep journals, will be defined by those who do.", and I have made live notes/transcripts of important moments such as baby blessings. I have pasted envelopes into the back of my journals to hold important bits of my history, such as my first concert ticket, my first love note from a boy, and, embarrassingly, receipts of epic meals I enjoyed. Finally my eyes were opened to the wonderful world of Moleskine and I started buying my journals with the pocket envelopes already in them.

You can see how turning to blogging is something of a natural development for me. Sure my entries are less self-indulgent and more geared towards recording family moments for those parts of our families who live far away. It has also become a tool to share creative endeavors and open up conversation with readers on topics that interest me. Conversations that might otherwise have never happened, because I am in essence something of an introvert. Blogging has come to be such a fun and important part of my life and I am so happy to have always had the tools to be able to keep it up. The encouragement I get is also a truly amazing thing. Thank you to everyone who has commented positively in any way! Thank you also for any constructive criticism you have given me over the past years. Without this blog I would have not been as motivated to put more effort into photography. I would not have learned there are surprising friends who share interests and viewpoints with me. I would not have had such a delightful visual history of my children because, let's face it, I'm horrible at making photo albums!

I love journaling. I love blogging too. I also love reading blogs, so please send me yours, or keep posting your entries on Facebook!

Finally, on the off chance this has motivated you to get started with a journal, here are some tips from a girl who has almost tried them all:

1. Hard Bound Journals Only. This is a must! You want your journals to withstand the test of time and paperbacks simply do not deal well with repeatedly being thumbed through, tossed in handbags/backpacks, being forgotten under beds, boxed, spilled on, and chewed by rabbits. 

2. When possible, write in pen. This goes with the previous tip. Ink doesn't fade as easily as pencil does. 

3. Get artistic. Use markers, print photos, use fun washi tape, make drawings. You don't have to be naturally creative to do this. And you don't always have to do this either! Don't make it a job, and thereby a drag. Just have a stash of creative tools on had for when you feel inspired. You'll be surprised at what you come up with!

4. Try different writing styles. I have journal entries in the form of letters to an imaginary friend and in the form of prayers. One day I read about free writing and just put my pen to the paper and did. not. stop. writing for a full 15 minutes any and all things that randomly popped up into my brain. You could do a series of entries where you record only facts. Or only opinions. You could write poetry, or turn your entry into a third person short story. I like writing in bullet form when I feel I have a lot to catch up on.

5. Don't just write down the date, write down the actual day, and time. I can't tell you how many times I have gone back in my journals, started reading an entry, and ended up having to do research as to whether I had written the entry on a Sunday or a Thursday. That might not be interesting to all, but I have found it something I care about. Also, times can help, especially when you have several entries in one day! Anyone who has read Bridget Jones' Diary will understand.

6. Hold on to shopping lists/photos/special receipts/postcards/etc. Either glue them onto the pages, or collect them in a pouch/envelope in the back of your journal. They will become so meaningful as time goes by!

7. Keep in mind your journal will most likely be read one day. One the one hand your journal should be the one place you can rage and rant in a completely unedited way. On the other hand remember that after you are gone your journal is going to be found and read, probably by those very people you have raged and ranted about. Or, if you have lived to be very old, their children. For some this won't mean any difference in how they write, but for me it has meant some slightly more subtle phrasing and, in some cases, omission. So unless you are James Bond and have been provided by Q with a fancy self-destroying journal that will obliterate your darkest secrets the very moment your heart stops beating, you might want to at least give your writing some thought.

8. Have others write entries. Some of pages in my journals that are most dear to me, have been filled by others. I have at times asked friends or people who made an impact in my life to write me a message in my journal. Sometimes these entries have become the only tangible memory I have of someone. I highly recommend it!

9. Daily writing challenges. These are good because they can break the monotony of writing. Usually I would take a challenge for a week, and record my daily experiences. Examples of challenges I like:

- 'Currently' lists. So whatever you are currently wearing, wanting, reading or listening to. Current weather conditions, news headlines, or your current state of mind.

- Daily quote + your own thoughts on said quote.

- Daily question. Think of a question that you must answer every day for a week. 

- Gratitude. Start each entry with a list of all the things you are particularly grateful for that day.

10. Describe things. This has been especially helpful to me as I notice my visual memory is not as good as I'd like it to be. I have in my journals descriptions of childhood bedrooms (to the tiniest details!), parks, hotel rooms, cars, outfits, cities, parks, etc etc. I have self made sketchy blueprints of classrooms and recorded routes I used to walk/bike/drive often and the things that stood out to me along the way. Very helpful to forming that mental image when reading later on in life. It also says so much more than a photograph, because it includes your experience of your surroundings.

I'm excited to see what future developments might mean more exciting possibilities for recording our own histories, and I'm excited to use them if they work for me. Thanks again for reading, whether it's just this post, or if you've been a faithful reader since I started this blog. Thank you!

dressed in white

March was a pretty important month for Lara: it was the month in which she was baptized! We waited a while to try and make sure most of the family could be there for the event, but she was getting really impatient. Sorry opa! Luckily uncle Mike was able to be there, and record the confirmation on his iPhone - lucky because thanks to all the bustle I completely forgot to bring pens and paper to the church. Baptisms in our stake are a totally different experience to the ones in Den Haag. Because there are so much more children being baptized each month, and to keep costs and hassle to a minimum, all the children who have a Birthday in the entire stake all share a baptismal date on a set Saturday once a month. There were 7 other children being baptized in March, and let me tell you, the chapel gets extra crazy when you try to fit in the families and friends of 7 children. The service also didn't start until 5pm, and celebrating was not allowed at the church building, so we had to do ours beforehand. I personally thought it greatly took away from the experience and would advocate going through the extra trouble to have each child have a more personal and spiritual experience. That said, Lara remembers her baptism well, and beamed all day long! Lots of sweet folks came to share the experience and show her they love her, and she felt pretty proud. Just check out these smiles, courtesy of my amazing sister in law and her snazzy camera.

Oma Diane made that gorgeous baptism dress completely by hand. Thank you so much for going through all that trouble mom, it really made the experience that much sweeter to us to have Lara wear a dress so personal and beautiful. You are one talented lady.

This is Lara and Brendan. As you may be able to tell from the body language, these two are nuts about each other. When Lara came home after her first day of school we asked her if she met anyone she liked, and she told us all about Brendan. We then asked her if he liked her too, to which she matter-of-factly replied: 'Yes, he just doesn't know it yet.'... Can I just skip her teenage years please?

Thanks so much to everyone who came and shared this day with us, and helped make it special for Lara. And to Lara: congratulations sweetheart, may you always remember how you felt on this important day. I am so proud of you!

yesterday

Yesterday we all headed out to West Valley to attend baby Karsten's blessing. He was wide awake for the whole thing but didn't make a peep... and then slept clear through the remainder of church. Someone deserves a good baby award. We had already spent time together on Saturday, enjoying a loverly barbecue in the sun with banana split desserts, but Sunday was the main event. I can't tell you how good it is to finally be around for all the important family events. Seeing the kids running around my sister's home with their cousins, and my husband be a part of the blessing circle are small things that mean so, so much. Also, I just love visiting different wards and branches in our church. It is so funny to see how they are all different, yet all the same. The lessons in their ward were so good! I especially enjoyed the Sunday School one because of the teacher, who had the most awesome radio voice I have ever heard. I kind of want to record him reading books. Have I ever mentioned that I have a major thing for being read to? I totally do, and I wonder what childhood event brought it on, but I digress. Check out the fam, being all cute and candid and windswept.

Congrats May Family! Thanks for letting us party all day long with you, it was the best!

150 years

That's how much time has passed since the first Dutch people were baptized into the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in Friesland (pronounced 'Freezelund')- cause for a celebration and a road trip. Lindsey and I loaded the three oldest kids into the car along with plenty of snacks, drinks and music, and set the TomTom to an address I had never heard of, let alone ever been to. You'd think that living in such a small country as Holland, and having Fries blood (my grandmother was from Sneek) would have ensured many visits up north. But it hasn't. The only other time I really remember going up to Friesland was for a 4-day camp held in Appelscha when I was 16ish.

I wish I'd gone more.

The drive was absolutely gorgeous, as was the weather. We made a stop on the afsluitdijk to see what it was all about and stretch our legs. The kids would have been happy if that had been our only destination. But we got back in the car, drove on, and as time ticked on the views became greener and quainter. The best part was when I took a few wrong turns TomTom messed up, and we got to enjoy the extra scenic route.

The site where the monument is situated is a humble one. Set between two small farms it is separated from the quiet asphalt road by a narrow ditch. The windmill behind it and the grassy pastured that surround it give it a perfect Dutch feel, and I must admit that my patriotic side came alive a little as I listened to the mayor speak of the history of the place. It also made me feel proud of my Mormon heritage, and the kind of people we are generally viewed to be by anyone who has taken the time to get to know us just the smallest bit.

 After a few speeches a choir of missionaries sang, and everyone was given the opportunity to get a picture with the monument. Balloons were let up, and we all gathered at the neighboring farm where we were graciously welcomed with cake and drinks. As I looked around for a place to sit I noticed an elevated patio that looked quiet and cosy, so I headed over there. The only other person sitting there was an elderly man who motioned me to come sit next to him. He turned out to be the original owner of the farm, though his son and daughter-in-law now ran it for him. He told me all about what the area looked like when he was little, and asked many questions about my faith. He told me lots about his and we were happy to find many things we had in common. He reminded me of my grandfather, and talking to him was my personal highlight of the entire trip. Either that, or how soundly the kids slept during the drive back...

quick to forgive... and fall asleep

Mondays can be tough sometimes. In fact, any morning or new beginning of any sort can be tough when you feel less than well equipped to face it head on. Half the time I am too busy or too preoccupied with my own worries/problems that I end up starting my day badly, leaving me feeling frustrated, unorganised and less than energetic. It doesn't help that I am not a wise guru of any kind that can cough up thoughts or words of his/her own to stay self-motivated. I find myself constantly searching for some external source that is going to give me the fuel I need, until I can muster the internal strength to work through it. Not only work through it, but feel happy and peaceful doing it. As the name of this blog implies, peaceful is not a state I am in often (thank goodness I have happy down a little better... just a little). 

This morning I was handed the exact inspiration I think I will ever need in the form of an inspirational talk given by F. Enzio Busche. Here are some of the words contained in this talk that, to me, echo pure truth for every single one of us.

Embrace this day with an enthusiastic welcome, no matter how it looks.

When you are sick, tired, or in despair, steer your thoughts away from yourself. In your life there have to be challenges. They will either make you stronger, or kill you, but you make the decision of which road you take.

If you neglect to feed your spirit, you will reap unhappiness.

When you cannot love someone, look into that persons eyes long enough to find the hidden rudiments of the child of God in him. Never judge anyone. When you accept this, you will be freed.

If someone hurts you so much that your feelings seem to choke you, forgive, and you will be free again.

Avoid at all cost any pessimistic, negative, or criticizing thoughts. If you cannot cut them out, they will do you harm.

Avoid rush and hast and uncontrolled words. 

Be not so much concerned about what you do, but what you do, do with all your heart, mind and strength. In thoroughness is satisfaction.

The pain of sacrifice lasts only one moment. It is the fear of the pain of sacrifice that makes you hesitate to do it.

Be grateful for every opportunity to serve. It helps you more than it helps those you serve.

In many ways these lines remind me of how my children naturally are already - enthusiastic, eager to learn, always ready to help someone else, optimistic, and quick to forgive. And fall asleep. Actually that one only goes for Elliot. Have a great monday and week everyone. I will be back soon to tell you all about how Lindsey, Ashley and I took an impromptu trip to Paris. Oh la la!

Sunday Morning Special

It's not usual for me to be writing a blog post on a Sunday morning, and I most definitely will not be making a habit out of it. Sunday mornings are, quite literally, holy to me and I normally spend them at church. Unfortunately I am sick at the moment. Some weird fever hit me yesterday and is sticking around for reasons unknown. 

Lately church has become something of a challenge for me for a few reasons. First because we have moved out of our regular building because it needed renovation. Each Sunday we now meet in a local High School where we have to set everything up every Sunday again. It's not a very 'spiritual' place and the logistics of meeting there are awkward and not helping the reverence (something our ward wasn't too good at to begin with).  

Then I was asked to serve in the Primary (to work with the children for 2 hours each Sunday, on voluntary basis) and however much I love children, my first thought when I got this calling was "It's not enough that I have to deal with  my kids all week, I also have to deal with everyone else's on Sundays?". 'Unfortunately' I have a mother who has always set the example of willingness to accept most any calling she received, and I couldn't think of a solid reason to say no. 

Then something else occurred to me. 

 I love going to church. I go because I want to and so does my family. I've never made my husband go, he actually really wants to be there as well. Of course we make our children go sometimes because they are too young to stay home but if that becomes a real issue for them at some point I will encourage them to use their own free agency wisely and decide for themselves. Because my decision to go to church is so actively my own, I have to try to get out of what I can, and if there is one thing I have learned over and over again (regularly the hard way) it's that I always get more out of church when I adopt an attitude of reverence and service. I am there to grow spiritually and I can only do that when I am quietly serving the Lord and opening my heart to whatever he wants me to hear that day. When I spend my Sunday waiting for what others are going to do for me and my family, I am usually sorely disappointed. Mainly because with those expectations I won't even notice what people are actually doing for me, I am blinding myself with them. When I adopt a reverse attitude, the amount of love and joy that fills my heart is enough to last me the rest of the week. Also, when I go to church worrying about what others think of me, or judging the people around me for how they live their lives or act on Sundays, church simply becomes a burden. 

So I have been struggling with these things lately, but I am grateful that I at least have a comprehension of how to win the struggle. Perfection is far, far, far away from me and it's an uphill climb, but I'm getting there one step at a time.

I'm a little wary posting all of this. I know a lot of the people who read this are in no way religious, and I don't want to use this blog as a platform for my beliefs. Having said that, my faith is the cornerstone of my life and I would be a hypocrite to omit it entirely from this place. Also I like to think that anybody I consider a friend is someone who doesn't care about things like religious differences.

All images are by amazing photographer Akos Major. 

Have a lovely week everyone, I think I'll go lie down again now.