Twelve Step Reflections

Sledding with Sammy – Surprise! – Step 3 & 11

December 6, 2008 by Nannette Wiggins 1 Comment

Sledding down the hill at the elementary school park with the “Grands” might be the extent of my winter games as a Grandma, but there is something potentially youthful and energizing about being the willing grandma of a three year old. This is for those of you who wish there was Christmas snow on the ground.

Last season Sammy and her mom were about played-out by the time I surrendered to their earlier invitation and put on my boots and coat, and ventured to the park to see if they were still enjoying the newly fallen snow. I found them heading home. They had gone down the hill numerous times and played together on all the playground equipment as though it were a summer day. But upon seeing me, Sammy was willing to give Grandma Nan the thrill of a few tandem runs down the little snow-packed rise her daddy had gone down a hundred times as a little kid. I had forgotten my gloves, and her little mittens were, by now, caked with ice, so we couldn’t stay long. We trudged up together, falling and laughing, and we sat nervously together anticipating the ride, and then we screamed with delight as we slid to the bottom. As I walked into the park I thought that I was doing Sammy a service. I was wrong. I think the few minutes of winter magic were indeed a present to me.

I tend to be more comfortable when life is routine, when there are no surprises. That’s one of the reasons I struggle with the advice to turn my life and will over the care of God. I have an inkling that God is like Sammy, and that He is going to invite me to go sledding, or something equal to or even more unusual and adventurous.

I think children must be God’s initiation bearers, into the world of the divine unknown. They break into our “adultish” routine and invite us to experiment with surprise, with hidden treasure, to brave the discomfort of the cold and the frozen in hopeful anticipation of upcoming delight. I’m grateful He sends children to prepare His way. I pray for the courage it takes to participate with these little adventurers. There is something about being with them that makes me want to be more like them, more willing to trust in Heaven’s care and simply enjoy the thrill not knowing.

By Nannette W.
Posted Saturday, December 6, 2008

Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved. Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.

“______ ! The Herald Angels Sing” – Step 11 – Personal Revelation

December 3, 2008 by Nannette Wiggins 1 Comment

Ethan, at age five, had his own version of the traditional Christmas Carol, “Hark, The Herald Angles Sing.” I find his rendition instructive any time of year. As he could not relate in any way to the word “Hark,” he filled in with a word that rhymed and also made perfect sense to him. Ethan simply exchanged the word “Hark” for the word “Park,” For Ethan, the Christmas Carol instructions, delivered in the opening line of the song were as follows, “Park, The Herald Angels Sing!”

My thought after catching his word substitution was, “Ethan, that’s brilliant! I can’t possibly “HARK” unless I slow down and quiet down and ‘PARK!’” The word “hark” is to akin the word we are familiar with in scripture, “hearken.” It means to “listen with careful responsive attention” (Merriam Webster Dictionary)

Some days I am so busy and distracted I don’t stop long enough to connect with the quiet, simple, daily manifestations of angelic assistance. If my heart is not full of “Glory to the new born King” maybe I need to stop a while, to PARK on my knees, or with my scriptures, or my journal, in an easy chair with sweet music playing in the background and prepare to give attention to and receive the tender help of His holy angels who are round about me and sent to bear me up. (D&C 84:88) “Park! The Herald Angels Still Sing.”

By Nannette W.
Posted Wednesday, December 3, 2008

Just Who Is On That “Naughty List?”

December 1, 2008 by Nannette Wiggins 1 Comment

Eliza reminds me of myself sometimes. She’s the oldest grandchild on both sides of her family, very serious and quite responsible, as first children tend to be. She’s the “other mother” in her family, because from the view of the oldest child, one mother is never quite enough to keep everything and everyone in line, and who makes a better candidate for the “other mother” position than the oldest sister? I understand perfectly, Eliza!

One evening, just before Christmas one year, Eliza and Ethan were working on a project at my kitchen table. I had Christmas music playing in the background and they were singing along to the songs that were familiar to them.

In the middle of a song they both obviously found quite silly, Ethan laughed and hollered out, “Hey Liza, what if we really saw mommy kissing Santa Clause?”

Eliza’s all knowing response was, “She’d be on the Naughty List!”

So often I think I have things all figured out too, only to find later that I am missing a critical part of the picture. In recovery we often talk about the importance of being “honest, open minded, and willing.” These qualities are the humble path we take that allows the Lord to fill in missing information and replace false perceptions with truth that is critical to our progress. The “ah-ha” moments that come when we are honest before the Lord and open to His mind and His will are priceless.

I imagine I am being observed by the Spiritually more mature in Heaven and on the earth. I’m sure some of my childish perceptions must bring a shake of the head and knowing smile to their lips. Their reaction is probably very similar to my own. As my Grandchildren discussed the placement of their Mother on the “Naughty List” (should she ever fall and give Santa a kiss), I had every hope that in time their perception would change.

Today, even though I am the oldest child on all sides, I’m OK with not knowing everything. In recovery we “come to know” and we “come to believe.” Progress is a process, not an event. I am learning to welcome any change in perception that helps me grow. It makes every new day an adventure!

By Nannette W.
Posted Monday, December 1, 2008

Merry Christmas and “Dime Store” Serenity – Service

November 30, 2008 by Nannette Wiggins 1 Comment

As far back as I can remember the Christmas season seemed to bring with it both excitement and anxiety. I grew up the oldest child in a family of nine. When December 1st rolled around one of my biggest concerns was how to get enough money to buy each of my siblings and my parents a Christmas present. As the seven of us were growing up we were each expected to do a weekly household job, without pay, just because we were part of the family. My father was a schoolteacher and my mother was a stay-at-home mom. There was not much excess.

I think back with gratitude that my mother had a plan to help us take care of our financial age 4-11 Christmas worries. Without fail, every Saturday morning for several weeks before the Big Day the old 3’ by 4’ piece of blackboard came out from behind the couch. Mom would use the chalk and fill the blackboard with lists of lots of little jobs (vacuuming the edges of a room, cleaning this drawer or that shelf, wiping window sills, cleaning a mirror or a window, shining up the woodwork etc). The list represented all the extra little things that needed to be accomplished around the house to really spruce the place up for the holidays. Mom took advantage of our need for a little money. Next to each job she chalked in how much money she would pay for that job “well done.” Each job was worth anywhere from five to twenty five cents. There were things on the board for all ages. I remember being very motivated by this system. As a job was completed we were paid and the completed task was erased. It was fun to see the little old black board empty by noon on Saturday.

When it was empty it meant we had each moved one Saturday closer to that magnificent yearly family excursion to the local “dime store” Newberry’s, where we would each purchase eight Christmas treasures. We split into two groups, each group being manned by one parent. Each of us got to push around our own cart. We thought that was pretty cool. We were required to bring a coat. The purpose of the coat was to provide cover over our secrets. There must have been much less concern over shoplifting back then. We sleuthed around the store, hiding things behind our backs, whispering in Mom or Dad’s ear, waiting for validation that the choice we had made for someone was “a great idea, honey!” I don’t think we ever had more that ten or fifteen dollars to spread eight ways. But, we all came home satisfied that we had worked for and secreted away eight “somethings” that were really going to bring smiles on Christmas morning.

Every year our Dad lovingly hand flocked a little tree for our “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas in Los Angeles,” mother. Before our shopping spree each year it was bare under the tree. After the shopping was complete there was no pause between entry into the house and our scurrying into some hiding place with paper, tape, and a stack of old Christmas cards we’d cut up to make just the right tag for each gift. Most times the tag was bigger than the gift. In one fell swoop we would move from having nothing under that tree to having a carpet of forty little things wrapped as only children can wrap, awaiting Christmas morning.

I don’t remember even one of the things I received as a result of this humble Christmas tradition. All I remember are feelings, the feeling that my mother cared enough to help us have a good experience giving to each other, a feeling of excitement at finding just the right thing that could be paid for with what was in my pocket, and the feelings of anticipation, of looking forward to the hour when all those little dime store packages would be opened one at a time with lots of “Thanks, that’s just what I wanted!” with hugs all around.

One of the most wide spread troubles of our day was the problem of debt. Spending is an activity that has become a compulsive/addictive behavior for many. Maybe the message of this old Christmas memory is, “Keep It Simple.” Surprises don’t need to be costly. Expressions of our love for each other don’t have to involve money at all. As kids we couldn’t have had any more fun if we’d each had a hundred dollars to spend. Although gifts will be given, maybe this Christmas the most important thing I can do for others doesn’t have to involve a tangible wrapped, ribboned and tagged gift at all. Maybe the greatest contribution I can make to others is to live in recovery, with the serenity and sanity that come from living within my means. Just as our mother helped us as children, the Lord can help us live this way, with JOY!

By Nannette W.
Posted Sunday, November 30, 2008

Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved.
Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.

“Falling” Into Christmas – Step 10 – Daily Accountability

November 29, 2008 by Nannette Wiggins 1 Comment

My daughter called and related the following experience to me. She said she could call it, “Wild Boys on the Loose,” “Irresponsible Mothers,” “Christmas Tree Festival Gone Bad,” or “So There I Was…” but her first thought after it happened, after everyone in an auditorium full of Christmas Tree Charity Cheer was staring at her and her children, was “Here’s Something For Mom To Blog About.”

Quoting my daughter…“Sometimes I think the most constant thought in the mind of a little boy is, “What should I do next to drive my mother crazy? Well today my children and I went with some friends and their children to a charity event where decorated, donated Christmas trees are on display. They remain on exhibit for several days. Each tree is sold to the highest bidder and the money goes to charity. Things were going great in the beginning. There was a band playing. The children had a great time dancing to the music. We walked up and down all the rows of trees. I was pretty impressed at how good the kids were about not touching things.”

“We decided the Princess Tree was the perfect opportunity to take a picture of all our little girls. We lined all our princesses up in front of the Disney creation. Then one of the moms suggested we take a picture of all the little boys in front of one of the sets of three twenty foot, attached, wooden, lighted trees that stood in multiple places in the hall as decoration for the festival. While our attention was focused on the girls the little boys started crawling in between the wooden trees. We got them to stop, line up, and smile for the camera. My friend turned around to tell me she got a very cute picture of my son, TJ. I looked up just in time to see that the boys had resumed their play near the wooden trees. I was about to step in and break up the nonsense when catastrophe struck! Too late! One of the little fellows pushed another one, who fell against the three wooden trees. Suddenly the trees began to fall down right before my eyes. I was amazed by the number of thoughts I could have in the 5 seconds it took me to get over to the trees. The whole thing felt like it was in slow motion. My first thought was, “Those trees really aren’t going to fall are they?” I pushed my friend aside and we both ran toward the disaster in progress. I thought about running behind the scene. I’m glad I rethought! The three wooden twenty-foot trees would have squished me. In the end all we could really do was watch them fall.”

“I stood there shocked over what had transpired, with complete embarrassment as the crowds turned and looked on, but feeling much gratitude that no one had been hurt and that there had been no domino effect on the other trees in the building.

Finally I addressed my two-year-old son. “TJ tell me what happened.”
“I pushed Mowoni ( Moroni ), Mowoni pushed the twees (trees), and the twees fall down.”

I don’t know what it is about the Thanksgiving/Christmas Season, but I seem to have more than average opportunity to practice Step 10, which is to, “Continue to take personal inventory and when you are wrong promptly admit it.” Maybe it has something to do with high expectations, too little money, long to-do lists, hurry hurry, and more social gatherings than my calendar can handle. My daughter’s experience brought to my mind the very obvious nature of most of my own wrong doings. Like crashing twenty-foot Christmas trees, my daily errors are not usually hidden out of sight or wrapped in “whose to blame” confusion. This season I want to stay ahead of the game and be like TJ. When “the twees falls down” my confession should be immediate, simple, honest, and without excuse.

By Nannette W.
Posted Friday, November 28, 2008

Copyright 2008 by Nannette W. All right reserved.
Making or sending copies is permitted if the page is not changed in any way and the material is not used for profit. This notice must be included on each copy made or sent.