Potholes

 Letters From the Nest, April 18, 2025

https://lettersfromthenest.substack.com/p/potholes

It’s pothole season. Did you know that? In early spring, potholes are at their worst because, throughout the winter, roadways have been exposed to water seeping into cracks in the pavement, expanding and melting, causing widespread destruction. Some websites name Michigan the state with the worst reputation for potholes, but we have our fair share of potholes here in Pennsylvania, too.

Have you ever been on a back road littered with potholes? I remember girls' camp whenever I’m on a poorly maintained road. I have attended many girls’ camps over the years, both as a participant and as a leader, and it seems like a rule of life that the last half-mile or more of the drive to camp is pitted with potholes.

Imagine this: you’re nearing the end of a couple of hours in a cramped car. You have drunk too much soda, and each bump reminds you that you really should have used the facilities when the chance was offered. Your legs are sticky on the seat. Somebody smells like they figured, “If I’m not going to shower all week, why worry about it today?” Or maybe the odor is wafting from the sleeping bags and tents, which are still musty from last year’s rainstorm and a whole storage season. You thought you’d be at camp, by now, but the minutes are dragging, especially since the driver has slowed to a turtle pace to avoid the potholes. How can they be driving so slow, swerving so much, and still hitting every pothole??

You look ahead of you on the road. Maybe you can help the driver (and yourself) by pointing out the hazards. “There’s one.” Oh, and “There’s another right there.” Oof! “Didn’t see that one, did you?” Will it ever end? Who is in charge of road maintenance here? Are they on permanent vacation? You imagine yourself out there on the road, filling each hole, making a smooth ride for vans full of girls, invisible in the cloud of dust behind you.

I sometimes feel this way about life. The journey, at first, is fun and hopeful. The road is smooth, you’re listening to good music and eating fun snacks. After while, maybe you take a little nap. But when you think you’re about to reach your destination, road conditions deteriorate. Your pace is slowed. You seem to hit and feel every bump. It’s miserable, and you think, “Who will fix these holes?”

I see holes everywhere. Some of them are observed in interpersonal interactions. I see people in need of love, acceptance, guidance, discipline, tutoring, teaching, lifting, feeding, and healing. Some of the holes in the community include classes without teachers, buses needing drivers, and sick people needing specialists. Other holes are more conceptual: unanswered questions, unextended invitations, unmet expectations, and untold stories.

I have the resources and qualifications to fill some of these holes, but other repairs require specialized skills that I don’t have.

Most of the time, I’m not qualified. I don’t know enough, haven’t experienced enough, or don’t have those official lettered credentials. It’s frustrating to see so much pain and suffering around me and know that sometimes, people are going to run into potholes and there is little I can do.

Some holes can only be filled by the One. Why isn’t one of His nicknames Filler? Well, because it sounds weird, that’s why. But He does help us fill the holes in our lives. He heals interpersonal relationships. He provides learning opportunities for His children so that they can assist in His work. The repair work isn’t instant, though, and sometimes, people have to experience the pits of life to appreciate the smooth parts.

A couple of weeks ago in General Conference, Elder Uchtdorf talked about how everybody would like things to go smoother sometimes, especially at church. We want our roads to be easy and clear of obstructions, but that’s not life. He said, “Now, I realize that I’m describing the ideal. And in this mortal life, we rarely get to experience the ideal. And ‘until the perfect day,’ there will always be a gap between the ideal and the real. So, what should we do . . .? One thing we should not do is give up on the ideal!”

This is tricky--recognizing that because life is life, it will be uncomfortable at the best and hazardous at the worst, but there are ways to “make straight paths” (Hebrews 12:13-14).

What is my part in the work of clearing obstructions for ourselves and others? It’s something to think about. And what about the holes in my own life? For starters, I can be open to learning opportunities, even when I’m afraid the experience will be uncomfortable. I can be ready to answer calls meant for me. Mostly, I can practice trust in the great Pothole Filler. When I don’t know what to do with some of the gaps I see in my life and others, He can help me know how to fill them in His way, which I want to be my way too.

Spring Break at Hilton Head

Penn State usually schedules spring break around the 2nd week of March. It's still pretty cold, so staying in town for the week isn't always delightful. This year, I was determined to find a beach with temperatures at least in the 70s. 

I used a website with short descriptions of family-friendly beaches along the East Coast to choose a place to go. I searched along the coast from north to south, checking each location's weather forecast during the week of spring break. I determined that we could reasonably drive down to South Carolina to catch some warmth and sunshine. So, that's what we did!

First, we prepped the van. Gavin and Brooklyn were so excited for their week off; they were good helpers. 

They're cute in their matching-ish outfits.

I did not spend much time on my appearance, and it was COLD in the garage where we were working, so I had my hoodie up. When I finally came in the house, Sean told me I looked crazy. It was just messy hair from my hoodie, but, ya, he was right.

We divided the drive into two days: first, to Charlotte, NC, and then, what was supposed to be the shorter leg of the journey, to Hilton Head, SC.

In Charlotte, we started our morning with some time at a fun arcade/laser tag place.

During our time at the arcade, Gavin's stomach hurt pretty bad. By the time we went for lunch, he was throwing up. Poor guy. We used a drink cup from Panda Express as his emergency-expulsion-catcher and stopped at least twenty times from Charlotte to Hilton Head. He looked like a zombie, and I know he felt worse.

But we made it!!

The first day at the beach was delightful—sunny and warm. Gavin spent the morning resting in the hotel room, but he ventured outside later. It took every ounce of his energy to make the 10-minute walk down to the beach, so he napped the rest of the day underneath a towel blankets.

I'm a nerd about wildlife and plants. Anytime we go somewhere new, I have my eye out.

I liked the place we stayed. And the weather was decent enough for the first two days. The third was pretty cold, but even though the kids had the option of staying in the hotel room with Rick, we WENT TO the Beach and LIKED it. (As in, we froze, but kept commenting on how grateful we were to be there). We did have a good time tormenting the seagulls that last day.

We got home late on Saturday night after a stayover in the Raleigh/Durham area. I was grateful for a quiet Sunday to reorient ourselves before going back to life duties on Monday. As I dutifully prepared my seminary lesson, even though I really wanted a nap, a thunderstorm blew into our area with a vengeance. The lightning and thunder were loud but not alarming. The whistling wind was different. Ominous. It shook the windows more than usual and seemed like an iron hand pushing across the landscape. Within minutes, the electricity was off.

No worries. We wanted a quiet Sunday, and we got it. Gavin and Brooklyn played Monopoly. I set aside my computer and phone and worked on putting trip stuff away.

When Sean was dropped off at home, he told us one of our trees was down across the road. Phooey! Since Rick also just got home, I went out to investigate.

I didn't get pictures of the original collapse because I discovered a crew of people out there with chainsaws, loading up our wood. (That's a weird story for another day.)

Rick and I dismissed the "helpers" and worked for about an hour in the rain to get the big logs up the hill and most of the debris out of the street. Both of us were wet, tired, and cold and could have really used a warm shower, but the electricity was still off. No electricity means no water from our well.

We went to bed without electricity.

That's me with my usual resiliency. (eye roll)

We were without electricity for about a day and a half. The piles of sandy beach laundry and wet tree-cleaning clothes had to wait. Dishes piled up in the sink. We took dinner-making supplies to the church and hung out because our house was too cold. We all really wanted showers.

But we made it. We were overjoyed when we came home from the church Monday evening to find our electricity on, even though we expected it to be off until Wednesday.

I was pretty worn out that first week back. But I still made myself go out and clean up the tree on Saturday in the windy spring weather while Rick was away with Brooklyn at a basketball tournament.

Life goes on. Every break is balanced with strain. And there is eventual rest after every challenge.

Who am I? What is my purpose?

Letters from the Nest:

https://lettersfromthenest.substack.com/publish/post/159570004

Who am I? What is my purpose?

My seminary teaching partner wrote those questions on the board today.

You would expect to see these thought questions posed to teens in a religion class, but you might be surprised at how often these questions come up for people worldwide at all ages. I came home from the lesson with a lot on my mind, so I will pour some of it out for you to read someday when you miss having me around.

I hope you’re not disappointed to find out that even as a 46-year-old almost grandmother, I sometimes get stuck on the idea of my own identity and purpose. I know the generalized answer, and with your religious background, you can probably guess what I mean. The young women in our church recite this definition of identity and purpose on Sundays: “I am a beloved daughter of heavenly parents, with a divine nature and eternal destiny.” I believe that. In fact, it’s more than belief. It’s a truth planted deep in my soul that guides how I respond to life's joys and challenges. Even though that truth has significant power, it’s not very specific, is it? If I believe in my divine nature and purpose, it follows that I believe that every person who has ever lived or will live on this earth is also divine. This is a useful truth for many life situations and governs how I see and treat others, but how do I address my individual worth and purpose?

Let’s pause and play “Guess The Song That’s in My Head.” Here are some clues:

• It’s a country song.

• It’s about couple dynamics--specifically communication, more specifically, talking.

• The lyrics contain two opposing phrases, “you, you, you,” and “me, me, me.”

Any guesses? It’s by Toby Keith.

Here’s a portion of the chorus:

“I wanna talk about me,

Wanna talk about I

Wanna talk about number one,

Oh my, me my

What I think, what I like,

What I know, what I want, what I see.

I like talking about you, you, you, you usually.

But occasionally, I wanna talk about ME!!

Is the song stuck in your brain now?

That’s how I see identity and purpose. It’s universal and individual at the same time. Everybody is divine. Everybody has a purpose. But what about me?

What are the things only I can do? What do I need to experience, suffer, learn, try, share, accomplish? How can I use my unique combination of talents, gifts, experiences, and knowledge to do the work God knows I can do to become the person God knows I can be?

I am both overwhelmed by the infinite possibilities and disappointed by the limitations of life circumstances.

I can do ANYTHING, but I can’t do EVERYTHING.

This principle leads to a question tsunami.

How will I spend my time? What and who will I prioritize and why? Prioritizing means I have to give up some things. How will I choose what to give up? How long do I give those things up? Forever? For a season? If I choose one path, will I miss out on important learning and growth on another path? Who will suffer as a result of my choices? Who will be blessed? How will I know? Do I have to know? Do I have the courage to step toward some things and away from others? How will I handle challenges as they arise? Will everything work out? Are my dreams inspired-possibilities or delusions of grandeur? How can I align my will with God’s if I’m unsure what that might be?

These questions are like household tasks. Never completely answered. As eternal beings, we are in a state of constant decision-making.

Agency might not seem like much of a gift when you’re overwhelmed, lost, or confused, but paired with appropriate guidance from trusting and loving sources, it’s a huge blessing meant for our growth. (And it’s another one of those eternal, applicable-to-all principles).

So, how do I answer some of these tsunami questions? How do I choose??

I have sat here for quite some time staring at the screen. Some of the questions have easy, concrete answers. Most of them don’t. Some answers to the questions are less about actions and more about feelings or attributes like patience or trust. Indeed, feelings and attributes usually lead to actions, but they aren’t in and of themselves active. Most questions lead to answers that lead to more questions.

There are some perspectives I might use to find some concrete answers. I could consider short- and long-term goals, recognize strengths and limitations, use guidance from already determined roles and callings (mother, wife, teacher, community member, disciple), and appreciate different times and seasons of life.

In the end, though, I’m at an impasse and have to believe if I keep stirring, wondering, watching, and waiting, the truth will float to the surface. I hope I will have the insight and courage to act when I know what to do. I hope I don’t wait too long because indecision is a decision.

Courage is needed here because fear is a big problem. What if I miss something important? What if I make a bad decision? What if I waste precious time and resources? What if I fail?

I will miss important things, make bad decisions, waste resources, and fail. But, as I have said before. Failure is only failure if you don’t learn.

I guess that’s where the eternal perspective and universality of identity and purpose come back into the conversation. Why are we here anyway? Not to sit around, that’s for sure. We’re meant to DO stuff. See, experience, learn, grow, hurt, love, help, hope, cry, and, eventually, change.

So, enough about me. What about you? How do you decide what to do with your life? What’s your identity and purpose? It’s the same as mine and different too. Isn’t that mind-boggling?

Enjoy this lovely picture I took on our spring break trip to Hilton Head Island. It’s a caricature of me pondering the possibilities of life.

Soon It Will Be Spring

 I have had a good attitude about the weather this winter. The gloom hasn't weighed on me. The cold hasn't cut me. Not yet. But I'm starting to feel my mood shift. It's been icy and windy, and I've had enough.

To brighten my afternoon, I'm reviewing some snapshots of our family adventures over the past few months. I might feel grumpy right now, and maybe for a few days now, but I haven't been grumpy ALL winter. We've had some fun. To prove it, I have to go all the way back to December because I can't believe I didn't share some of these delights. I'll write about some of these pictures so future generations will know the context, but some of them speak for themselves.

Snowflake-making competition in seminary. One of the kids accidentally made a creepy face.

Went to visit Mom at her new house in Arizona. We spent some time at the Mesa Temple Visitors Center. Fun to see Grandma Della.

I like how Gavin and Brooklyn get along most of the time. You'll see a few pictures of them in this post keeping each other entertained.

Christmas Eve dinner at the Olive Garden. We are such fancy people.

Christmas PJ's from Grandma.

Gavin and Brooklyn got snowboarding gear.

Christmas dinner.

One of Gavin's favorite gifts. He learned about Jackie Robinson and with his new love of baseball, he had to have a jersey.

This is what happens when you take candy to bed with you.

Candy bar game on Christmas break. This picture shows smiles, but, unfortunately, the game got quite intense and one person was kicked out.

McDonald's break on our after-Christmas shopping trip.

Basketball, basketball. I need to get some better pictures, considering how much time I spend watching games.

At Thanksgiving, Emily made a delicious cheese loaf. Brooklyn had a serious craving for it a month later and made a replica.

This is Sean's birthday cake from his seminary teacher (not me--my teaching partner). She has been making birthday cakes for all of the kids according to the thing they like best. Sean didn't give her a good answer when she asked, so since he's hardly at seminary, she figured he likes to sleep best. She was right!

Our handsome 15-year-old!!!

Our beautiful 12-year-old. Earrings and braces!!

Cute 9 1/2 year old. He won this prize from the arcade games at the place where we watch a lot of basketball games.

More cute 9 1/2 year old. He decided to comb his hair.

Sean trying to convince me to take him to McDonalds. He said he would pay.

Snowmen on an icy yard.

Snowman on an icy car.

Dead snowman.

And now we're all up-to-date!