Sunday Thoughts

As I'm writing this, we are well over a month into the COVID-19 pandemic with social distancing and staying home. And while I am writing another post to highlight many moments for our family during this unique window of time, today, my thoughts keep wrapping around our focus from church at home today. We asked each of the kiddos to write about the good they've seen during this time, to think about what has been hard, and to think why and how God has been in the details. Each one sat and shared simple yet profound truths highlighting so much power and faith in knowing that as they stay close to God, no matter what happens in the world, things will work out. I truly believe this pause in time they are experiencing in their youth from the routine of what they've always known is preparing them for great things where they will shine in their lives because they have this experience to draw from.

I felt drawn to talk about our scripture theme for the year. At the beginning of each school year, Mike and I choose one scripture to focus on for the year. Looking back, it's humbling to see how much that focus for each year truly ties in with life as it unfolds. And today was no different. Last August, we chose "Be Still and Know that I Am God" (Psalm 46:10). We'd hoped to bring this message intentionally into our lives as a tool for increasing the power of the present moment, of listening, and hearing God's voice in our lives. What we didn't foresee is how this scripture would apply in new layers connected to this current pandemic.

Experiencing a stillness and a true pause from the daily routine and schedule of life has always felt unimaginable, unthinkable and absolutely impossible. Yet, here we are. And with all of the uncertainty, disappointment and worry completely available for our minds and hearts (and trust me, we've all had our fair share of praaciting those emotions), the ultimate truth is how this opportunity opens the door for an even deeper reliance on God. His will. His timing. And practicing patience that while we don't have all the details, as long as we stick to Plan A (trust Jesus), the rest will work out. All of it. All the hard. All the wonderful. Weaves together into incredible moments that I have no doubt will be a hinge point of remembrance on our timeline of personal history.

And as we sat together today, so grateful to be soaking in church at home together, listening to the kiddos share glimpses of their faith journey during this time, I felt it.

The purpose in this place.
The growing that's happening here.
The stillness.
The light of truth.

That's the power we'll continue to ignite. That's the power we will continue to draw from.

Words to Remember: Welcoming Change

Welcoming Change:

As the pages of one chapter end and a new one begins, take a moment to pause.

Close the eyes and inhale. Feel your lungs expand as you breathe the air surrounding you. Notice the long inhale opening your heart, creating space for all the emotions surrounding this sacred space within you. Give them a name.

Exhale and release. Soften your mind into the present moment. Between the pages of these two chapters. Maybe it's a new job, a child heading off to kindergarten or to college. Maybe you've recently moved. But where you stand today is unchartered ground. This period of transition has awakened a new chapter to open from within you.

As you pause, soak in moments from the past. They were exactly as they needed to be. Because those moments, strung together like individual beads on a necklace, are what have created the beautiful strand of your life. They are what have brought you to where you stand today. Full of heartache, loss and failure and disappointment but also full of hope, laughter, love and joy. Let the light of those moments travel through you like the warmth of the sun on the skin on a summer day.

The light within you is the source of truth.

Looking ahead, you may find yourself worrying, overwhelmed at the unknown pages ahead in the next chapter. Unsure how to navigate them or where to even begin. Yet, pause, my friend. Plant yourself firmly exactly where you stand and feel the earth beneath you. Just as that earth grows the most magnificent trees, it's taking the seed you have in this very moment and is preparing you to blossom. Let yourself grow in this very moment. Stay open.

Stay open when the rains come. Stay open when the night sky darkens. Because the light of the stars will continue to shine, and what makes the stars is also within you.

Trust the process. Welcome this season of change with courage and faith. Walk hand in hand with both and they will become your North Star.

All destinations begin with taking a single step. Yet remember, dear friend, that with each step you take, you invite the opportunity to pause. To take a breath. To remember that exactly who you are now is exactly who you are meant to be. And whatever lies ahead, you will not fear. Your light is made for this time. Your light has been gathering, ready to shine in this very moment.

With love,

Sara

A Pause Between Pages

A new chapter begins. New state, new home, new community and new schools. Our oldest begins his last year of middle school while our youngest begins her first year of Kindergarten. The first day of school, they awoke excited yet nervous. Confident yet doubtful. Calm yet anxious.

Or maybe those were my emotions.

Because as I watched our kindergartener boldly step into her classroom, held the hand of our second grader as she asked bubbled with energy, saw our fifth grader courageously step into her classroom with a smile, and chatted with our eighth grader on his way to school, the moments filled me with reminders of their strength, their light, their courage.

They are there and I am home. It is quiet. It is still. As this new chapter begins for our family, I find myself taking a moment to pause between the pages. Drinking deeply the moments of the past. Of exploring and discovering. Of letting go and trusting. Of embracing and connecting. There is so much to be grateful for.

The light of those moments travel through me like the warmth of the sun on my skin on a hot summer day. Closing the eyes for just a moment to see, hear and relive them as they imprint on the mind and heart.

Between the pages, I find moments of vulnerability. As with all change, what encompasses the next chapter is new and undiscovered. Yet, if I truly look back at our story, I see two themes carried throughout every page.

Faith and courage.

Pausing for a moment to breathe them in deeply, I remember. How they speak to my Spirit, open my heart and soften my rough edges. They are continual teachers as we travel as students of life. I remember. There is nothing to fear, nothing to hold back from.

I am ready.

The next chapter awaits.

The In-Between

Whew. I write sitting on a hotel bed. We're a solid week into our hotel-transition time. Gratefully, with just one more week, I'll be writing from our new home.

Pausing in these somewhat awkward days, where the kids and I seem to have flown from a rhythm of life into an abrupt halt, I find the feelings of unfamiliar somewhat familiar. This isn't our first time sitting in the space of the in-between, yet instead of the restlessness I typically find myself in, I find myself practicing more awareness. It's interesting to have pauses like these in life. Where there is almost a tangible hold between what was and what is going to be. It has opened my heart to look back with so much gratitude, to look forward with an abundance of faith, and to sit in the now, holding space for what is right in front of us.

There is so much power in the now, if I choose to access it. Yet, like in all things, the in-between is full of choice. To choose to sit in discomfort and bury it, anxious, resistant and frustrated in the slow motion of the days, or to see discomfort for the fluid opportunity it presents. Because discomfort is what creates growth. And I am all in for growth. Yet, I am human. And find myself dancing between both places throughout each day, soaking in the moments that warm my heart and take away the sting of loneliness that creeps in these times of unknowns. Because the more I look around, the more I see the people surrounding me. Full of love, light, and above all, hope. And I can hold hope with them. I may not have all the answers. But I can hold space for hope. That while we don't know what life will look like in our next chapter, and while we longingly look for the comfort of our last chapter, we find ourselves bookmarked. Relishing in the memories and experiences that formed exactly how they needed to, yet unable to move into the next part of the story. The smell of the pages from the well-worn book remind us of the beauty that life has to offer us if we are willing to be patient. To be open to receive what it is we are meant to discover.

As I find pockets of stillness where I'm feeling my feet where they are standing, I soften. The crinkled muscles between my eyebrows relax and the tension in my shoulders releases. I begin to see the joy that truly surrounds us.

The laughter of Abigail telling us how amazing she thinks the hotel is.
The kids excitement for the hotel breakfast menu. Trying new foods because they can.
Showing up at a park, and playing together for hours. Max inventing a Percy Jackson tag that the girls giggle to play with him. Creating obstacle courses with them.
Abigail catching a frog, picking up worms and looking for insects at every moment. Some stop to smell the roses. She stops to catch the bugs.
Alexis swimming in the cold pool the most because she loves a good competition.
Alexis' smile as she discovers new ways to cross the monkey bars. Backwards, skipping two, and skipping two backwards.
Tayler's laugh. In the car. At the park.
Tayler making a new friend at every park we go to. Smiling and welcoming anyone to join her.
Max playing pick-up ball with no fear about being the youngest.
Tayler's excitement to do her summer workbook each morning.
Card games on the park table under the shade of the giant trees.

As I get out of my own head long enough to observe moments like these, I find myself listening so much more. Seeing where they are processing this journey in their own individual ways, and seeing how they choose to respond. They teach so much. Courage, resilience, grit, joy all surround abundantly. Turns out the in-between is full of the unexpected. Turns out the in-between is exactly where I'm growing. Turns out the in-between really is a lesson in being present with life enough to realize that's where life is.

Sunday Thoughts: Behold Your Little Ones

This morning, as I was reading the words of Christ in the scriptures, I read the phrase "Behold Your Little Ones." And couldn't help but feel like my heart was about to explode. A handful of experiences over these last few weeks have reminded me over and over that these little ones are so capable. Their light is so needed in this world. And as much as I think they need things a certain way, I often learn how much more they can handle, how ready they are to be stretched, and how they truly know how to serve and connect with others. 

One of those moments happened a few Sunday mornings ago.

I could hear her footsteps as she came down the stairs. Eager and excited for Sunday, she kept her typical routine of being the first one awake. She entered the kitchen with her beaming smile and energy, ready to take on the day. But first, breakfast.

Since it was the first Sunday of the month, I was fasting, and reminded her that I'd be happy to get her something to eat, but that her older brother and sister had joined the fasting club for the month.

We started Fasting Club when Max was big enough to start learning the principle of fasting - I had read about it from another deliberate mother a few months prior, and recalled it from my mind on a whim one morning as I was grumbling to myself about all the food I needed to get out for the girls, while simultaneously watching a boy who looked about as sad as could be as he entered the kitchen. I didn't want a spirit of sadness surrounding this principle, and realized that both he and I could use a little "fun" in the process. "Bud," I said, "Do you want to be in the Fasting Club with dad and I?" The light in his eyes - excitement, energy and enthusiasm to do something his sisters wouldn't yet be part of was enough to shift his energy from sad to excited. "Yes!" He jumped as he said the words. 

And so it began. I didn't really even know what our "club" was - but soon realized it didn't need much. The "club" has evolved into a handful of simple actions - chatting about fast Sunday and a focus the night before. The morning of, I'll write a note and leave it at the stairs - a simple invitation to join the fasting club - no pressure - but a helpful reminder for them as they typically roll right into breakfast. Sometimes I'll put a specific scripture on there for them to study before getting ready, and sometimes it's more general to let them guide their own study. 

At least with the older two, entrance to the club has began right around the age of 8. I'd love to say we have grand conversations, or that we do special scripture study together, but in reality, most of what we say and do is in-between the hair-styling and car-driving on the way to church. Because in reality, I'm juggling that part solo as Mike is serving in a variety of capacities that use that window of time prior to church. I used to beat myself up that I couldn't seem to "get it together" enough to carve out time just with them to all sit together while the little ones slept or played quietly on their own (ha!), but then I realized that embracing the chaos, flowing with the mornings, giving them opportunities to strengthen their personal spirits, and then circling up together in those pockets that we had was absolutely enough.

Back to the kitchen earlier this month as Tayler came downstairs.

"Mom. I'm ready. I want to join Fasting Club today."

Surprised, I looked at her for a moment, really digesting what she'd just offered up. "You know that means no breakfast, and you wouldn't be eating until later today, right?" 

"Yep. I'm ready."

I'd love to say that in this moment I faithfully agreed with her, believing that she had the capacity to start something "big," but in honesty, I doubted. I paused, hesitated and really thought about maybe pushing her toward eating breakfast and waiting for when she was older and more "capable."

Yet, in that pause, I looked at her. She had so much light in her eyes. This girl was far more capable than was giving her credit for. She knew what she was asking to do. She'd seen it in the examples of her siblings month after month. And this daughter of God was striving. Striving to become something bigger that day. Who was I to take that from her?

So she jumped in. I let her add her signature to the paper at the top of the stairs.

Fast forward to church that morning, when she then leaned over to me and said "mom, I want to go up and bear my testimony today. Think I can do it?"

This surprised me even more than our first request. Typically, this gal is happily coloring while the speakers chat, and on fast Sunday, when members of the congregation voluntarily go up and share their thoughts on Jesus Christ.

Again I paused. Thankfully, I was reminded of the earlier internal conversation, and I again looked into her eyes and saw the eagerness and light.  As much as I wanted to say that she hadn't thought of what to say, or that she wouldn't know what to do, or that she simply wasn't "enough" the thought came to mind: Who am I to take this experience from her?

And so she went. Mike happily went up with her, and helped her get the stool so she'd be tall enough to see over the pulpit.

And then he sat down.

Her face was so full of light, genuine love, and her six-year old eyes had a look of nerves as she saw the congregation for the first time from that perspective. For a moment, I thought she'd smile, freeze up and back away, but she didn't.

With a shake in her voice, she shared sincere genuine truths about Jesus Christ, serving and loving others. 

Tears swelled in my eyes, as my heart was ready to burst.

The Spirit reminded me in these moments that my role as their mother, as much as it is full of directing, guiding, above all it is to NURTURE.

To teach them how to grow on their own.

To let them stretch beyond where they are now.

To create spaces and opportunities for them to dig into their roots, and stand strong in the winds of life.

To nourish them with love, truth and light.

These last few weeks have really reminded me how much I have to learn from them - how much I can "behold" from them - and what the gift of Christmas is truly about.

Yoga Flowing

Once upon a time, there was a new mom. And with a new chapter in her hands, and a day no longer scheduled or time blocked with a business agenda, she found herself relearning the every day with their little baby boy, whom she and her husband loved so dearly.

New routines meant new experiences. And once she recovered from her delivery, she noticed a new class at the gym. She'd never attended a class. She'd never really needed to. But this class was offered at a great time for her and her baby and it seemed intriguing. It was a "mom and me" class - she could bring her baby with her, keep him in his car seat and do a class with other moms.

Since he was so little, and since she had no clue of how he would be in that type of setting, she gave it a whirl.

And then the toughest moment of the journey came.

She had to walk through the door for the very first time. Step into a space she knew nothing about, meet people she'd never known, and allow herself to learn new things.

She paused. A spark of fear of the unknown surged through her body.

And then took a deep breath of courage. Because courage is not the absence of fear, but the action through fear.

She relaxed her shoulders, hooked the car seat on her forearm, pulled the diaper bag over the older shoulder and walked in.

This journey took her so many amazing places. From two mentors who empowered her not only to attend classes, but to take courses to begin teaching classes, and then who taught her how to practice and refine her skill. They motivated her to learn how to teach other formats and truly step into any room with an open heart and mind ready to connect with whomever joined her.

She found herself teaching at multiple gyms. Classes grew and grew. New faces became regular faces. Connections were made. Friendships blossomed.

And while she loved the flexibility and variety of all the classes - she loved the power she felt and taught in strength classes, the movement and dancelike motions of a step class, the precision of a strong pilates mat class, the sound and rhythm of a powerful spin class - she found that her heart, soul and mind truly sang with yoga.

Over the years, as her and her husband grew their family and moved from state to state, she continued to cultivate her love for yoga. She studied topics, went to trainings, mentored under incredible teachers and read books. She wrote classes in her spare time, found unique music, and would take notes of things she loved from any class she took.

Over time, she found herself not only teaching yoga, but striving to live the principles of yoga. She and her husband found themselves applying the principles of the yamas and niyamas in intentional ways: they spent a year only spending money on absolute essentials, they cultivated contentment through date nights after the young children were in bed, they chose one word to focus on each month, and then for an entire year, they found themselves letting go of comparisons, competitions and judgements, they practiced listening to their thoughts and discerning truth. They looked for moments to be mindful of, and strove to choose experiences over things. Above all, these practices strengthened their connection to God and empowered them see and embrace the beauty of their religion on a much deeper level.

Again they moved to a new state, and teaching group fitness became a source of connection in an otherwise unfamiliar place. She loved the new friendships, and looked forward to teaching yoga each week. And her love for the practice grew and grew. She moved from teaching in a small room, to teaching in the biggest room the facility could offer to create space for all those who chose to be there with her. It was beautiful.

Knowing she wanted to continue cultivating her skill, she chose to sign up for a series of trainings that would help her "complete" her 200 hours of yoga training. It would require travel and time away from home, but she felt ready, and her husband was so supportive.

But then a big choice came into her life. A new direction.

As much as she wanted to learn and grow as a teacher, it paled in comparison to the desire she had for adding another baby into their young family. And together, she and her husband moved forward with faith.

Knowing what mattered most outweighed what mattered much, she found herself letting go of one thing to further embrace another. And as her belly grew, and she later held this beautiful angel, she felt peace in her heart.

She took this brand new bundle in her arms as they moved to the next state. And this little bundle was a light for her as she navigated new terrain and a new chapter as a family. This little soul spoke light into her heart and helped her focus more deeply on the beautiful gift of motherhood.

She found herself wanting to teach and embrace these spirits she and her husband had been entrusted with. She knew her best use of time during this season was with them.

But her love for yoga and empowering other women remained strong. She found herself creating a whole new way of teaching. The words "strong and mindful" spoke to her as a way to serve and be mindful of those she connected with. To remember that we all have a story and we are all in this together. From her home in the early morning hours during the summer months she started things she had never thought of before. She made dear friendships and together they wrote a yoga series centering on self-love and connection. The next year, she wrote an entirely new curriculum, and did it again the third year.

Each curriculum she wrote and taught she continually strived to live. And the journey was beautiful.

Shortly after she started that third summer, it was time again for their family to embrace another move across the country. And while she knew it would be so hard to leave something she had created and loved, she knew what mattered most mattered more than what mattered much. And what mattered most was the experiences and learning and growth that would come to their family with this new chapter.

But before she left, she knew it was time to create something beautiful. A retreat for women. In the mountains. To center. To empower. To connect. But she couldn't do it alone. And God knew who to place in her path to guide her and together they created something beautiful.

As much as she loved those experiences and knew they were good, she also knew it was not sustainable. It was pulling her in too many directions and was stretching her too thin. She couldn't give her very best to those little souls who mattered most.

And as they moved across the country, she let it go. She let go of her business. Social media. She let go of the retreats. She let go of the classes.

She was lonely yet free.

Sad yet at peace.

Less than yet enough.

Heartbroken yet loved.

The pendulum of emotions confused her. She didn't know which ones were true, so she created space to simply feel them. To honor them.

And over time, she discovered something beautiful.

The times and seasons led her to her exact spot. All things were for her good, and for the good of those she was around. They were part of a plan and path that she needed to walk. They helped mold and shape her into who she was at this very moment. But they did not define her. She could continue to write her story. To change. To learn and grow in new ways. And as she continued with faith, she would be led to do good continually and to strive to serve with all of her heart, might mind and strength.

As she soaked in this peace, she honored the past, present and future of her love for yoga one evening with three of her darling angels. One whose energy is like the sunshine. Bright and warm. One whose energy is like a calm quaking aspen. Strong and steady. And one whose energy is like the ocean. Determined to continually flow beyond what the eye can see.

The things that mattered most mattered more than what mattered much.

It was not a big audience. Nor was it the perfect yoga studio setting. But they connected together. And in the moments, between the breathing and flowing movements, she strove to teach them to love and honor their bodies and the gifts that they are. To love and honor their minds and all the good they can do in the world. To honor their hearts for all the love and light they can give. And to honor their spirit - to hear the soft, calming voice above any noise.  Because the light within her, she wants to share with the light within them.

And she had peace in her heart as she discovered the true gift of yoga wasn't in the destination. It is in the journey. And so she moves forward with hope. Not knowing the road ahead, but trusting in the One who guides her.

Saturday Adventure & Wisdom From the Trees

The rainy season is on full swing and there have been some beautiful storms this past week. I love the sound of the thunder, the rolling and life within the clouds, and the rain. The sound of rain feels majestic. We've had to be creative with our bike rides to and from school - being safe if there are thunderstorms and adventurous if there is a drizzle of rain. We all have ponchos and have really enjoyed it!

Our Saturday adventures this week were at a County Park not too far from our home. Mike scouted it out and we headed, not really knowing what to expect.

As soon as we pulled into the park, I knew we were going to love it.

This "tree house" is unseen from the cars and roads, so once you take the trail back to it, you really do feel like you're entering an enchanted forest. 

 Once the kids saw the stairs, they ran as fast as they could to get to the top!

 The view from up top is tough to capture. But the growth on the trees, the trees growing from trees, the lush vegetation - I found myself staring with wonder at the beauty of it!!

 Sometimes I love to hang back and soak in this crew in as they are surrounded by beauty created so Divinely.

 Another section was a boardwalk throughout a marsh. We saw loads of turtles, fish and spiders, but didn't see any gators (this time around!).

 I love to stop and soak in the trees. To think about the storms, the winds and all the things that have tried to break them. Yet, they stand. Tall. Always looking upward. Finding true strength from their roots. I can't help but think of the "storms" and "winds" I've felt, and how my strength comes from looking upward and learning from my "roots" - for me that not only includes learning from our ancestors - those who have walked before us, who have sacrificed so that we can stand where we do today, but in studying the "roots" centered in Jesus Christ. So grateful for the scriptures and the daily wisdom and light they bring into every day life. And so grateful for a prophet and apostles in our day who truly keep us "rooted" through their loving guidance.

 There were some naturally growing lime trees (and we saw some orange trees) that had popped up in a few places - a great opportunity to chat about how trees planted in one place can pop up in others. And we had to document the first time walking on a nature trail with limes on the ground!!

 The roots!!

 Mike took this one before we left (since I'd been behind the camera the whole time). So grateful for the opportunity we have to be parents. And so grateful for the opportunity we have to experience and live in a variety of places together. There is beauty everywhere and truly feel so much love in the creation of nature that surrounds us. God truly is the author of diversity!

Words to Remember: I am enough

I'm a day late in this Mother's Day post, but I'm giving myself permission to share some thoughts on motherhood and womanhood that I know apply no matter what day of the year it is.

And it begins with this video. It's so beautiful.

I wrote my mom a letter for mothers day. It was long, and full of memories and 10 different strengths she taught me that I strive for. And while the letter really was for her, I wanted to share a little snippet that's been on my mind ever since I wrote it. It was number five on the list:

"To love flowers. The smell, the colors. I loved our rose garden and seeing how much time and care you gave to the different roses. How you knew the names of every flower and how you'd let me play with the petals and blossoms that had fallen. You taught me to give myself permission to get my hands dirty (well, you actually taught me to wear gloves to I wouldn't get dirt under my nails). But more than the flowers, I learned that there is always something growing. There is always something to cultivate. And if we choose to nourish it, we can always create something beautiful."

I believe one of the biggest tools the adversary is using right now is to make women believe they are not enough. No matter what role we are filling. I've experienced this first-hand (oodles of times!) and it's taken a lot of learning, pondering and practicing to use tools to reframe my thoughts and center myself on truth. It's an ongoing work in progress, but the journey is beautiful. And while I won't delve into all of the insights right now, there are two truths that I can't help but tie into motherhood and womanhood:

1. You are not your thoughts. Just because you think something does not make it true.

2. You are enough. Really. You are. And so am I. Yes, we can all strive to make improvements, to set goals, to learn and grow, but let's not forget the beauty of now. Breathe in the now and let it fill you.

There are so many lessons from nature that if we allow ourselves to unplug and listen, they are just waiting there to share with us. Like little seeds. For them to become a blossom, they need to be planted, nourished and to grow. It's going to take time and work for that journey to unfold.

But they are enough right now. A little seed is enough. And if a little seed is enough, let's not forget that as women, we are enough too. Sure, there might be growth ahead, but let's not forget how much we are needed and valued right now, as we are. Let's take a moment to catch those thoughts of expectation, judgement and comparison and let them go. Let's commit to practicing true principles. To change and redirect. To let go of what does not serve us.

Let's choose connection.

Choose to simplify.

Choose to practice gratitude.

Choose to love.

Because there is always something growing. There is always something to cultivate. And if we choose to nourish it, we can create something beautiful.

words to remember: kindness

This past Sunday, I was the recipient of some kind words.

Kind words that took the person less than one minute to communicate. They were simple. Shared by someone we hardly knew in the moments just after our church meeting.

But they were so meaningful. They felt like light. They were a reminder of how much I am loved. Of how much we are all loved.

Those kind words brought peaceful tears later that day as I had a moment to reflect and ponder them. The few words were full of principles of truth I had been pondering in my heart for some time. Tears of gratitude for God, who connects with us on such personal and individual levels.

And as I've been pondering in the days since, it has more fully opened my heart and mind to both the giver and receiver.

The giver was willing to say something simple to someone he hardly knew, but because it was a good thing, he didn't hesitate to act. It reminded me of these words written by Moroni (chapter 7): "...all things which are good cometh of God."

The receiver was willing to listen. Sounds simple, but it's something I continually must practice. To let go of the inner conversation that limits and disputes what was shared. That discounts the goodness and finds the fault. Instead, choosing to listen and humbly accepting what was spoken with gratitude.

Because good thoughts are centered in God's love. A connection that utilizes the enabling power of Christ, who can heal our heavy hearts and strengthen our weaknesses. The choice is ours to receive and to listen.

I choose to write this experience, not for the experience alone, but as words to remember.

To remember the feeling of God's abundant love.
To remember that goodness has the potential to grow within all of us.
To remember to receive.
To remember to give.