Clayton's Blessing

Well, now that it's been over 2 months since Clayton was blessed, I thought I'd finally post about it. Really, it just took me that long to get the pics downloaded to my computer.

Isn't he the cutest little guy? The morning of his blessing was a little hectic for me. (Details in this post.) But, Clayton was a little trooper. He was very calm all morning--he ate when I needed him to, slept when I needed him to, and even smiled when I needed him to. And, I think he is my first kid to not scream right before/after taking pics. He did fuss a little (a very little) just as Sacrament meeting was starting. I stood at the back and rocked him and he was asleep within a couple of minutes. Ryan gave Clayton a beautiful blessing. It talked a lot about missionary work and sharing his testimony. I am profoundly grateful that my husband is able to bless my children. And, I'm also incredibly grateful for such a sweet little boy!

Electricity vs. Fire

Six years ago, at this time of year, Ryan and I were in the midst of falling in love. (Now that I think about it, we're still in the midst of falling in love.) :) We started dating November 21 and were engaged on January 24. My entire life, I wanted a Christmas/winter romance--and that's what I got. Happy memories are constantly coming to mind during this season and I can't help but think about what has brought us to this point.

Recently, I read a book that was a little more on the romance side than I generally prefer. I am NOT a romance novel fan. Some of you are shocked by this. In thinking about the story line of the book and comparing it to the story line of my life, I realized there's a big difference between electricity and fire.

When I was in college, I dated one guy and I felt actual electricity when he was around. It was so strong that I was suprised there weren't little blue sparks shooting around me when he was around. While it was fun, the electricity wasn't enough to spark a real romance and we broke up after about 6 weeks. You see, electricity is something that can be started with a switch. It doesn't take much effort to flip a light switch on...or off, for that matter. Once the light is on, there's not a lot I have to do to keep it going. Until the lightbulb burns out. Or until I decide I'm done with that room, turn off the light, and move on.

On the other hand, what I felt when I started dating Ryan had nothing to do with sparks. It was all about warmth and depth. It's really hard to explain the feeling, but it felt like the glow of a small fire inside of me. The more that I spent time with Ryan, the bigger and warmer the fire grew. Here's the thing--starting a fire takes effort. There are certain steps that need to be taken to stack the kindling and wood in preparation for a roaring fire. And, once it's going, it takes work and effort to keep it going. You have to stack the wood, rearrange the wood, and keep the water away. If a fire is neglected, it will eventually die out on its own. Even when doused with water, you have to stir the embers and check for hot spots before you can be sure it's out.

I'm not sure what made the difference between the sparks I felt with some and the fire I felt from the beginning with Ryan. What I am sure of is that I have the most amazing husband I could have ever hoped for. On these growing-ever-colder winter nights, the fire of his love still warms my heart.