Sometimes dedication comes in waves. I have felt super dedicated and focused for a period of time and then I slump down the hill to loafing around and inactivity. Being a mother has taught me many things. One of the aspects of motherhood that has moved me in the right direction is how to be dedicated. 

I sit at the large second hand kitchen table. The top wooden veneer is chipping in the center extension of the large wooden surface. I look at the table and realize that it is too large for my oblong seating area adjacent to the kitchen. This is where we eat, study, craft, talk, and gather. I look out at the new windows my husband installed last fall and I notice the snow is huddled up in the shade of the trees trying to hold on to the chill of last winter. My scriptures are open and I am desperately trying to find answers to the direction we should take in our lives. My husband will complete his program at the two year college and he needs to move to a University to finish his degree. He also has a job at UPS that he needs to transfer to for work. I fumble through the pages of first Nephi in the Book of Mormon. I find myself drawn to Lehi moving his family to a foreign land. I come to verse 13 in chapter 17 it reads, “And I will also be your light in the wilderness’ and I will prepare the way before you, if it so be that ye shall keep my commandments; wherefore, inasmuch as ye shall keep my commandments ye shall be led towards the promised land; and ye shall know that it is by me that ye are led.” I have an overwhelming feeling that Moscow, Idaho will be our promised land. Peace surrounds me and I write in the column of my scriptures, “I know the Lord will lead our family to where we need to be. To our own “Promised” land.” Fear creeps in immediately after this feeling of peace and I have a list of worries a mile long: selling the house, moving, cleaning everything, finances, leaving our family and parents, pulling the kids away from their cousins and grandparents, leaving everyone we know and all of our resources, leaving our ward that we have been mentored and loved in, finding a new place to live, and finally being completely on our own and living nine hours from our family. 

Besides feeling scared to death, overwhelmed, and stepping forward in a new direction, we start making preparations to move to a new area. I feel determined to set the wheels in motion. I call a trusted realtor in the area and he looks the house over and we seal the deal. 

Finally our house is sold and we move our family of five into my moms house for a month. We are storing all of our household items in a trailer my husband borrowed. It feels weird not to have a home anymore. We are kind of in limbo for a while and although this decision feels right to move to complete Alan’s education I am terrified of the unknown.       

Lastly, the time has come for us to transfer our boxes, furniture, and beds from one trailer to the large Uhaul van. How in the world did we acquire so much stuff in the last fourteen years of our marriage. I am about ready to just light a match to it all. I tend to teeter on the minimalist side of life. 

In Spite of all the boxes hauling back and forth and then driving 10 hours in a family convoy. We run into a small snow storm going through Montana and the roads are covered with ice. I grip the wheels and silently pray for our slow moving procession. I turn and check on the children and they are smiling with excitement. We finally made it to our home for the next four years. We are so tired but there is no time to rest. We have to get some boxes and mattresses out of the Uhaul so we can sleep in the house tonight. 

The following morning Alan walks through the backdoor and into the kitchen holding my black heavy kitchen aid in his hands and says, “Dari, We have some extra visitors that came in the Uhaul with us. Their family has built a home inside of your mixer. Do you still want to keep it?” “Is it mice?” I say with disgust?” He nods his head and stares at me in the doorway waiting for me to make my decision. I cover my mouth to keep myself from throwing up. I turn away from him, “Please Alan, take it outside and clean and disinfect it. I can’t throw that expensive kitchen aid away.” I think to myself I have to make use of what I have because these next four years are going to be financially difficult. I purposefully keep unloading the boxes in the kitchen to keep my mind off of our new acquired friends that my husband is evicting from their home. 

Alan starts his job the following Tuesday and he is nervous to be in a strange place and I am nervous to be left alone at night. I look outside my backdoor and we have a shared yard with three other houses. I question if it is safe for my children? I am determined to make this work for our family. This is our first for a lot of things in our life and I am almost panic-stricken. I walk up the narrow staircase to our room and I hear noises outside down in the yard. I carefully pull a dusty shade down and stare at the yard below me. There are college girls renting the house next to us and they must be having a graduation party. They are loud and drinking and Alan just left me for his job. I am not sure this is going to work for my family? Were we really supposed to move to this place? Maybe I was wrong about my earlier inspiration from the spirit. 

In addition to the anxiety I have felt moving to a new place we are beginning to get into a routine. Alan has started his classes and is starting to become familiar with the campus and his work. The holidays are approaching and it looks like we will be making little benches out of some scrap wood Alan has in our small attached garage. We brought some paint and craft supplies from SE Idaho. I will be able to paint them and make them look cute. Alan comes home late after work and asks, “Do you think I should work the ‘eve’s’ for the upcoming holidays? I will get paid extra if I work them.” I respond with a little trepidation in my voice, “yes. I will do something with the kids on Christmas eve and we can pop some popcorn and watch a movie on New Year’s eve. We need the extra money so you should go ahead and pick up the extra shifts.” 

Christmas eve approaches and my children are used to going to their grandparents and seeing their lit up Christmas tree and playing with their cousins. This Christmas there are no lights and there is no sparkling green evergreen sitting in the corner with presents under it. I sit at my table and I want to throw a tantrum the size of a giant hurricane. What has happened? I am sitting here hours away from anyone I know and I have no resources, no friends, no family, and no Christmas and my husband is in another town working. I am so upset I want to throw something, scream, and curse this day away. I am in my mid thirties and things are still really difficult. It’s like I started back to ground zero again and I am going to have to build it all back up. I am angry at my situation. My oldest looks at me from the floor and says, “mom, what’s wrong? It’s Christmas eve!” I want to roll my eyes at the words coming out of her innocent mouth. “What’s wrong?” I repeat the words even louder, “What’s wrong? Everything!” I say in disgust. I mentally make a list of all of my problems and I want to share the list of woes with my children. Something stops me. A voice drifts into my consciousness. “Dari, you are their mother. You create the feeling in the home. Be creative and show them what Christmas is all about.” The thought leaves me speechless. A tear rolls down my cheek and determination immediately stomps all over my self-pity. I check my bank account and there is $20 left in my checking. It is almost eight o’clock and my husband will be working until eleven o’clock tonight. I call every pizza place from Moscow to Pullman and one finally picks up the phone. “Pizza hut. Just so you know we are closing in fifteen minutes.” I quickly ramble, “please could you help me out? Could you make me a medium canadian bacon pizza? I will be there in 12 minutes.” They respond with a sigh, “I guess. Don’t be late.” and they hung up the phone. I excitedly shout, “kids, get your coats and get in the car we are going on an adventure. Their faces light up like the missing Christmas lights that should be happily hanging from our porch. I push down the gas pedal to our car and pray that we will have enough gas to make it to the next paycheck. I don’t care anyway I am going to make this night unforgettable for my family. I pull into the UPS yard and call my husband. “We are outside and we brought Christmas Eve to you!” He walks out of the building with a smile on his face and as he opens the driver side door. The kids chant UPS in the backseat as their dad jumps in the car and smells the hot pizza. I realized for the first time in my life that my attitude as a mother has the ability to elevate the mood in our home and change the way my children look at life.

     One week later I find myself in the same slump as Alan walks out the door to work his night shift on New Year’s eve. He says, “Oh by the way there’s a lot of packages tonight and so I won’t be home until one or two in the morning.” He leaves and I close the front door with more force than usual. What am I going to do tonight? It’s four in the afternoon and I have nothing planned and I am homebound in the middle of the winter with no money. I sit and sulk as I rock my three year old on my lap. The girls come up to the recliner and want to know what we are doing for New year’s eve? I am curt as I say, “nothing! We are all doing nothing.” I remember that little voice from last week and I think and I pray in my head for help. I search pinterest for New year’s eve ideas and Minute to Win it games appear all over my board. I found some things in the house that I could use for the games. I decide to do games every hour and pop a balloon for each hour on the clock. All I need are balloons and cups. I set my son down and I go to search for some extra change. I make a quick trip down to the dollar store and pick up the two items. When I get home I make a list of games to entertain us throughout the night: 

• 7:00 Yahtzee 
• 8:00 Hide ‘n Seek 
• 9:00 Keep the balloons up in the air
• 10:00 Uno
• 11:00 Stack cups 
• 12:00 Write down goals 

We are all so excited to write the times on the white balloons in black marker and hang them on the columns that separate the dining room from the living room. We have never done anything like this before and we can’t wait for seven o’clock! I am set-on this being a happy joyous night for my children to remember forever. The games begin and we are laughing and smiling and celebrating the new year. 

Plato, an ancient Greek philosopher said, “Necessity is the mother of invention.” It was necessary for me to grow and learn how to be a better mother. My inventions didn’t stop world hunger or bring peace to war-torn countries. On a large scale I was one mother on a dot on a map in the northern part of the United States. I hope my miniscule ‘inventions’ changed the world and the minds of my own children for the better. 

Finally, motherhood taught me dedication, work ethic, and to sacrifice for the greater good. The next four years in Northern Idaho were built on me being a creative and happy mother. Northern Idaho became our ‘promised land’. It was a place where we learned foundational tools for our future. I learned to have greater faith, I learned to love people who were different than me, I learned how to be a Christian, I learned to serve. 

Here are three things you can try to help you be more dedicated in whatever you choose to do: 

1. Pray: Pray for strength and ideas. Put God in your life and let him guide and help your efforts.
2. Plan: Make lists, outlines, and Drafts of what you want to accomplish.
3. Be positive: I found that when I was wallowing in my own self-pity my mind was not in creative mode. I had to believe in myself and change my thinking. 

Resources: 

https://quotefancy.com/quote/26544/Plato-Necessity-is-the-mother-of-invention

https://www.churchofjesuschrist.org/study/scriptures/bofm/1-ne/17?lang=eng