Mud

Anyone with a family larger than four kids, with a few of them younger, knows and understands the challenges of getting everyone completely ready for church every week. That means 100% for guys: shoes, MATCHING socks, pants that do not have holes or stains, a good white shirt that fits their body, a tie, and optionally a vest or jacket if it's cold.
For the ladies: a modest dress, (that means not above the knees even if you're only five,) good shoes, hair done decently, (or at least up and out of your face if you are that five-year-old,) and possibly tights.

Now, the problem: No matter how much you plan in advance, setting out clothing, etc., somehow there will always be an issue with finding some sort of article of clothing or other.

My case, this Sunday, was a better day than most for getting everything together. I was actually quite proud of how efficiently and accurately we were clothed. I even dared hope that we just might make it to church that way.

Of course, life doesn't always plan out the way you do. ;)

It had rained that day. Beautifully overcast outside, making me quite happy inside, but also happy to be in, period. Unfortunately, my younger siblings did not share my enthusiasm for being stuck indoors. So when Tyson came in and told me that I had a present waiting for me on our back porch, I went, knowing by the tone in his voice that it was not such a good present.

Elias, only two, had gone dancing in the mud. His shoes were covered; I could not even tell their original color. He was wearing his full, miniature Sunday suit, but only a few spots of mud covered that. Hair awry, he look innocently up at me (I really don't like it when they do that) and grinned his ears off. I just sighed, shook my head, and laughed.

After he was cleaned up, the time flew by quickly, and it was soon time for everyone to get loaded into the stretch. I was finishing something us in the Atrium (human-greenhouse-room) when I heard Sierra give a sharp intake of breath. Somehow, I sensed that this, too, was not a good thing.

Glancing outside, I watched as two, red-faced children dressed in their Sunday best, tried to lift their tiny legs out of the muck they were firmly planted in. This time, my dad was watching too.
I looked at Sierra.

"Boots," I thought.

She understood, and quickly went out to fetch the now-wailing children as they struggled to escape. After fighting them up the stairs, she deposited them on the back step, then removed her boots and scampered quickly away. With both of them crying dramatically, I only grabbed the nearest offender and hauled him (Elias, again) off to our kitchen sink.
Eventually, we removed all of the grime from each article of clothing, or had replaced it with a new one. Both pairs of shoes were soaking, but wear them, they did.

One thing I will never forget from that experience. I remember how my dad got uptight, because he did not want to be late to church. And I remembered how I was, at first, stressed about it as well. But then Elder Wirthlin's (I love that man) talk popped into my head. He'd said some thing to the effect of, 'when you feel most tempted to groan, laugh instead.' So I did!

I think I've learned to laugh so much more.

I really do.

And I'm so grateful for mud, and that God has a great sense of humor.=D