On Motherhood.

It's raining tonight--hard--and I love it. I feel like I'm back in Portugal in my upstairs bedroom wrapped in my baby blue fleece blanket and laying over the radiator by my desk. I so dearly miss my room. And to think that I'll never see it again gives me a little lump in my throat.

Today I had a Senior Pictures Photo Session scheduled, but the weather pushed it back a week. And to think only three more photo sessions to go before my "pause." Here is what I posted on my Homespun Photographs Facebook page today:

I have been battling with myself the last few weeks but today I've finally reached a resolution. I need to push the pause button on my beloved Homespun Photographs business. The past few years have been thrilling and full of such good memories with all of my amazing clients. I love capturing your sweet moments and memories, but I have been feeling the tug to treasure more of those memories with my own family as of late. And seeing as my children are getting busier as they get older (which never occurred to me when I just had two little toddlers), this summer and the whole rest of this year is already a flurry. So with that said, I have committed to pausing my photography business until further notice. I will finish out the sessions I have scheduled through June and then begin my leave of absence. Thank you to all who have supported me through this photography journey and have hired me as your photographer. You will always be more than clients--you will remain my dear friends!!

Last year, when I really "opened my business" I did so with the full intent to save every single penny for the boys' missions. With our gigantic graduate school debt that loomed into our future 25 years, I never thought there would be enough for their missions. I prayed long and hard and felt impressed to use my business as a means to pay for this most important goal. Even so, I felt so very burdened with finances last year despite how blessed and fortunate we were.

Then one day last fall the Lord opened up a window that I never thought would open and we found a solution to our school debt that will knock off 15 years of payments. It was a miracle and a very real answer to our heartfelt prayers. And I felt deep down in my heart that this new window that had opened was the Lord's way of telling me that He would provide for my sons' missions--that He had accepted my offering to do all in my power to earn the money, and that it was enough. And ever since that time, I knew that the business I had worked for so long to create, would be put on hold so I could raise my children in the way the Lord has inspired me.

I feel so bittersweet about the whole thing but there is a peace in my heart that assures me I am doing the right thing. I stand in complete awe that I am the mother to 3 beautiful, perfect children from heaven. I feel so very honored that Heavenly Father has gifted me with this incredible, exhilarating stewardship. And I am reverenced at how the Lord has led me along this past year in finding my way as a mother and discovering just how powerful I truly am. Though far from perfect, I now radiate a light that comes from Him and shine it on my family daily.

In short, I have fallen in love with being a mother---hook, line, and sinker---and each new day that I get to spend with them is a delight....

I know it will ever be so.

Paradise

This song describes my life so perfectly.  Like to a tee.  But just like the girl in this song, after spending years dreaming of paradise, I have learned that paradise is right here, wherever I am, even if I'm lying underneath the stormy skies--knowing that the sun will set and rise on a brand new day.

I don't remember when this lesson really started to sink in, but when I first heard this song early this year I knew that it completely summarized the principle I had been learning to live--that of enjoying the moment, finding the jewel in each day, and learning to be happy and content in every circumstance.  It's the epitome of thanksliving and believing that the Lord's graces and tender mercies are all around.  This song sums up what I have been becoming the last three years with yearly themes.

Looking back, I feel that I've left a part of my heart in every "paradise" I've lived in.  The little red brick house that always appeared to me to have a face was where I grew up.  It will always hold the nostalgia and sweet memories of innocent childhood.  It was the place I laughed, loved, and grew my testimony.  It represents that idyllic sunshiney phase of life to which I so often wish to return....even just for a day.  I can't even drive by this house anymore or my heart hurts.  It's so sad for me to see other cars parked in the driveway, the playhouse and cherry trees gone, the beautiful log fences that my dad so lovingly built, in ruins.  And I've looked at those "window eyes" and felt like the home is calling out to me to come back and live there again.  I can't think about it too much without getting too sad, so I choose to preserve it in my memory as the happy place it once was and not the place it now is.

Then there was Portugal, the place where more than half my heart still resides, and always will.  That home, that epic seems so much like a dream to me nearly 10 years later.  I was a princess in that home, or so it felt.  And while the challenges there were more daunting than the years before, it was a very sacred and hallowed time for me.  It was there that I found out who I really was and who I was going to strive to become.  (And though I didn't know it at the time, it was there that I met the missionary who would one day become my sweetheart for time and all eternity.)  Was Portugal Paradise?  Truly.  There's no better word to describe it.

My little apartment in Colonial House while attending BYU-Idaho was fleeting and trying.  I only owned one half of a tiny bedroom, but it was a haven to me where I studied, wrote the feelings of my heart, and talked for endless hours to my family in Portugal and Patrick who was attending school 400 miles away.  I know there is a piece of my heart still there.

The next house was our first together as husband and wife.  University Courtyard #602 was more like a hallway, perhaps a "closet under the stairs."  But it was beautiful and the perfect place to begin our married lives together.  It was in that little one bedroom apartment that we learned how to rely on the Lord and each other for just about everything.  It was only a sojourn for 9 months, but still long enough to plant a part of my heart there as well.

Hill's Cottage, tucked away in a quiet place was so idyllic.  We brought both Easton and Tate home from the hospital to this beloved sanctuary.  It was more than 100 years old, but the 3 bedroom home was paradise to us, even with the purple holey carpet and sinking toilet.  I loved that home as much as I've ever loved a home.  It felt like it was ours, especially since we spent two years in its shelter.  Whenever my mind travels back to this house, all I feel is peace and tranquility.  It was a heaven on earth.  It was there that we taught Easton to walk and where I spent so many hours and weeks and months learning how to become a mother.  It was all so new and adventurous and challenging.  It was one of the sweetest times in my memory.  There we invited family home evening groups over from the singles ward where Patrick was serving, to have a lesson, game, and refreshments nearly every Monday.  I loved that home and was so sad to leave.  The only happy part about leaving was knowing we were moving on to graduate school and another adventure.

Our next abode, a basement apartment was smaller than the cottage before, but warm and cozy.  We hunkered down in there for 3 years with intermittent moves to do internships.  It was there we grew closer than ever before to my sweet grandparents, Gram and Pop.  We were at their house nearly every day, playing, laughing, and making cherished memories.  It was there I was taught by a good friend how to paint and distress furniture, bargain shop, and decorate my home in an authentic way that I love.  It was there that I learned how to love and play with and nurture two growing, crazy, darling boys.  It was there Patrick completed his academic schooling for physical therapy school, and it was there that we felt it was time for Maylie to join us.  The ward we were part of was so good to us and we still miss them so dearly.  I think a part of our heart will always be there.

Our last abode before our final stop was in our farmhouse cottage.  It fulfilled my lifelong dream to live in an old, renovated farmhouse.  It was our first home that we had all to ourselves, even though we were still renting.  The boys played and slept in the loft, rode their bikes in the spacious yard, and we enjoyed the roomy bathroom that was bigger than some of our previous bedrooms.  The area we lived in was picturesque and serene.  Farmlands everywhere, with our home bordering the foothills of the high, tall mountains.  There were times when I thought this would be our resting place, but somehow the Lord led us on.  And even though we spent a year here, it seemed like only a few months.  The time flew and Maylie turned 1 just yesterday and we're leaving tomorrow.  And as I close this chapter, I feel a big part of my heart will always reside in this sweet little town.  For it was here that I overcame dark days of dreariness, enjoy each and every moment, let truths sink deeply into my heart, and was given a special gift from Heavenly Father--the desire to play with and be with my sweet little ones for all their waking hours.  I look back and can't believe how far I've come.  How far we've all  come, really.  Life has soared on wings of eagles and no matter how hard I wish it to slow, it only increases velocity.  And now, it's time to close this chapter and welcome the one ahead.  Ironically, as a side note, as I walked through our new home yesterday afternoon to check the progress, "Paradise" was playing on the radio...

And so with this reflection on where we've come, I realize that each of our homes have been a unique paradise in their own way.   
Paradise is a state of the heart, not a geographical location.  
It is this I have learned.

And just like the others before it, this, this could be paradise.

...And now for the clips that inspired this post, "Paradise" by Coldplay and "Peponi" by the Piano Guys.  These have been my two favorite songs this year.  It's so amazing to me how music can speak to us in ways that nothing else can.  Enjoy...

P.S. The video that accompanies Peponi is INCREDIBLE. 

Remembering October

I told you I'd be back...and it was actually much sooner than I hoped.  It feels good to be catching up tonight.

So many memories were made this past month.  Patrick had school late late Fridays and every Saturday too (all except for Conference weekend which was such a beautiful tender mercy).  I'm still not quite sure how I survived...well, I take that back.  Of course I know.  I didn't do it.  We did.  It's so comforting to have an omnipotent and personal Heavenly Father and Savior to help us through each day.  I guess we notice it more during the stormy days.  But it strikes me that they care just as much to hear and be a part of our sunny times too.  Do we not rejoice when our sparkly-eyed children share with us their recently accomplished success and joys?  If our little ones only needed us when they were hurt, sad, scared, or angry, wouldn't we yearn more than anything to have them trust us enough to share with us the pleasant, the good, and the exultant moments?

Well, these are snapshots of some of those moments.

And I attribute the wonder of them all to a merciful Father.

This was the unforgettable day when the temple was announced for Portugal.

Priesthood session began like this.

at the temple with sweet Nana and adorable Aunts Coco & Natalie

The dazzling lights from the reflection pond caught my eye.  I knew I needed a memory in the form of a photo.

And this is one of my life's goals..."Holiness to the Lord" in myself, my family, and my home.

The night ended like this.  I love this picture.  It symbolizes so much of my life right now.  Tired, non-cooperative boys...and me...trying to keep smiling and keep on keeping on.

I love this picture.  It is bursting with love, laughter, and life.  Thank you for giving these things so freely to your nephews dear Aunts Megan and Sadie.

And this one could be titled, "A Blissful Summer's End."

Goodbye for now.  We can't wait to see you again.

Cuddles with Nana

Horse Encounter

Fascination.

Interest.

Friendship.

When Daddy is gone every weekend, playtime is put on hold for a while...However...we found bubble wrap to be a quick and easy memory maker to last until he's back for good.

When Easton went to the Pumpkin Walk {with Nana}

Toy Story

Winnie the Pooh

The Polar Express

Monster's Inc.

Finding Nemo

Doesn't he bear a striking resemblance to Max?

Up

My 6 sweet students (that have recently turned to 7) at our Fall Piano Recital.  Everyone played so beautifully!  I can't wait for the Christmas Recital!!!

Halloween goodies from Nana

Grandpa Lystrup's amazing Halloween cookies.  They used to be tradition but he has since stopped making them.  But when my cousin requested them as the only thing she wanted for her birthday, Grandpa made up a batch...we were lucky enough to get some!!!

Goodbye Lovely October.  See you in 2011!!

A Letter to {my} Portugal

Dear Portugal,

I've been thinking much of you lately.

Reminiscing about your constant fragrance of flowers
 
 
 

your cobblestones winding through the streets
 

and the beautiful hand painted tiles.


Remembering your stately old buildings--ornate and regal,

 

your quaint little homes


 your cathedrals





your castles I've treaded.
 
 


I'm missing your city centers with shops spanning in every direction
 
 
 
 

I'm missing your warm, homemade pão (bread) sold for a few centimos in the little shops and the feiras that offered everything from fresh lobster, to handcrafted sweaters.

I'm missing your trains and your buses and your beautiful bridges


 and the Madeira Island

 
 

{Which was even gorgeous in the rainy winter}

I'm missing the walks and trips we took on P-days


how close we grew as a family

and all of the fun we had as sisters.




 

I'm missing our noble home that sat on the brink of Porto...

 

elegant staircases, dark wood panel wainscot, and {my} old ivory piano.
 

I miss the royal charm of our home.  I felt like a princess while I was there. And then I realized that I didn't need a home to make me feel that way...it was part of my Divine heritage.

I'm missing opening my two windows to the fresh sunrise and seeing how the rain had transformed the view overnight.
 

{These were the views from my windows}

 I'm missing walking to the market and coming home--arms laden with fresh fruit.
 

I'm missing the stares and the smiles.  The hard shells that crack so easily and invite you into hearts forever.
 

I'm missing the walks to seminary at our purple tiled chapel.
 

I'm even missing the bejinhos.  More than I ever thought I would.

I miss the Zone Conferences and the missionaries in their starched white shirts and suits.
 

I miss the daily feel of my testimony doubling in strength.

In short, dear Portugal, I miss everything about you and everything about me when I was there.
 
 

Most of all, I miss the ocean.
 

Sometimes I remember just how it sounded crashing up against the rocks in Leça da Palmeira.
 

The sun would set and the lighthouse would begin to glow it's perfect three-point light.

I used to pretend it was my lighthouse.

I still believe it is.
 
I spent hours pondering about life and the future and the gospel while looking up to the lighthouse as my inspiration.

With it's little cottage to the side, it stood as a symbol for me of what I wanted my life to be.

I started building "my cottage" while I lived on your soil--right next to my Savior's lighthouse.

And I promised myself that I would always be the keeper of the lighthouse.  Shining His light for others to see.  Shining for those who decided to play on the edge of the waves and were lost when darkness fell.  I often think of that symbol and hope I am living up to what I committed to do more than five years ago.

The last night I was there on your sacred ground, I watched the sun set by my lighthouse and knew that the sun was setting on a special, sacred chapter of my life.

  And I wondered if ever again the sun would rise for me in Portugal.

 

  I shed too many tears to count.  They were lost in the sand beneath my feet.

And then I came home and started another glorious chapter.

But ever since that time I have yearned to return to another sunrise--another sweet chapter in my beloved Portugal.

And while it will be a short chapter, my sweetheart and I have determined to return for the special sunrise that will accompany the dedication of the newly announced temple.

I always promised myself I would go back when a temple was built.

And I will.  We will.

This past year I have come to recognize how often the Lord shows His hand in our lives...that is, if we have eyes to see and ears to hear.

His hand was there just a few days ago on that bright Saturday morning of General Conference.

Little did I know when I woke up that morning that President Monson would annouce 5 new temples.  And the first...would be Lisbon, Portugal.
 

It wasn't a coincidence that my father, my mother, my two sisters, myself, and my husband were all seated together in the Conference Center for this session.

It was a tender mercy from the Lord.

Reminding me that He loves me and that He hasn't forgotten about my beloved Portugal...

or my family.

There was a rare stillness that hung in the air as President Monson announced the temples.  I honestly could not believe the words that I heard.  When the moment of electricity arrived, my heart tried to leap out and cry aloud for joy.  But I suppressed my emotion to silent, thankful tears for the miracle that had just occurred.

The next few minutes were thus spent in weeping as images flashed through my mind of all of my friends and acquaintances, the dear Saints of Portugal.
 


I could imagine the joy and surprise and faith in each face as they no doubt shouted in praise and cried and prayed.  Just as they did when we rounded the bend to the temple in Madrid, Spain--a nine hour bus ride from Porto, Portugal.

 

And how much greater and more joyful their praise must have been when a temple was announced for their very own land.
 

I wish I could have been in each and every chapel throughout the country when the temple was pronounced.  I wish I could have been a part of their rejoicing.

I still cry every time I even think about it.

Because I love them.

And you, dear Portugal, still hold such a large part of my heart.

I suppose you always will.

When you give up so much in behalf of a country and a people, you just can't help but leave a piece of your heart with them....forever.

It's hard for me to express my sentiments because they are too deep, profound, and sacredly sweet.

The closest I can come to transmitting the feelings of my heart is to quote the great missionary Ammon:

"Therefore, let us glory, yea, we will glory in the Lord; yea, we will rejoice, for our joy is full; yea, we will praise our God forever.  Behold, who can glory too much in the Lord?  Yea, who can say too much of his great power, and of his mercy, and of his long-suffering towards the children of men?  Behold, I say unto you, I cannot say the smallest part which I feel."

-Alma 26:17
 

But even without everything expressed, somehow you know, Portugal, what I am feeling.

Because I am a part of you, and you will always be a part of me.

Para sempre.

querido País.

Meu País.  Nosso País.

Com meu amor profundo,

tua Jamiezinha