Word made flesh

I was recently thinking about how much my religion is often as much about the tangible as it is the spiritual.

For example, religion asks that we not only have a broken heart and a contrite spirit. It also asks us to take bread and water each week.

It asks us not only to follow Jesus and keep His commandments but to put on a jumpsuit and walk into a font of water to get baptized.

It asks us not only to obey God's commandments and live the gospel of Jesus Christ but to make tangible covenants that show we really mean it.

It even asks not only for people who have died to accept Jesus Christ but to be baptized by proxy by living people in jumpsuits and fonts holding little slips of paper they printed out that morning.

It's as if religion says, "It's not enough for your heart to be in it. Your body has to be in it too."

I used to wonder about what there was about the nature of the water or the words that provided the transformative effect to cleanse us or endow us with power beyond what the Holy Ghost accomplished spiritually. But now after having three kids with very literal needs, I don't care that much about the metaphysical or symbolic. Maybe we'll find out someday that most of the tangible things we did were important only symbolically to keep our minds on the right track. Maybe we'll find out it was all literal. Maybe the truth lies somewhere in the middle.

But I still think there's something to the idea that our body has to be in it just as much as our heart. I think of what Jesus Christ taught about baptism both in the New Testament and in modern scripture. I think about an entire Plan of Salvation that depended on us getting mortal, fragile bodies. And tonight, I think about a little baby born in to tired parents in a tired, confused nation. And I am grateful for his literal, tangible life.

11  And he shall go forth, suffering pains and afflictions and temptations of every kind; and this that the word might be fulfilled which saith he will take upon him the pains and the sicknesses of his people.

12 And he will take upon him death, that he may loose the bands of death which bind his people; and he will take upon him their infirmities, that his bowels may be filled with mercy, according to the flesh, that he may know according to the flesh how to succor his people according to their infirmities.

13 Now the Spirit knoweth all things; nevertheless the Son of God suffereth according to the flesh that he might take upon him the sins of his people, that he might blot out their transgressions according to the power of his deliverance.

I'll just leave this here for you

Hinges

"So what kind of hinges do we want?" Kevin asked the other night.

I was shocked. I had to have opinions about hinges? We looked through an online catalog and saw options like brushed nickel, satin nickel, etc. I had never cared about anything less in my life.

You know who does have opinions about hinges? Matthew. The other day he was eating a snack and suddenly had a full blown meltdown about hinges because he didn't want to crack. I mean, technically the song says "I've got to have hinges or else I would crack" but I guess he took it to mean hinges would make him crack and so we had to reassure him about 50 times that he didn't have hinges. Hopefully he won't crack when he learns that we chose brushed nickel hinges.

It's not like I don't have lots of opinions about homes. I have opinions about built-in bookcases (not appropriate for rooms you can see from the front porch), bathtubs (should have space on the edges for shampoo), microwaves (should not be above ranges nor in the island where the kids can reach), and balusters (should be spelled ballisters and should not be as expensive as they are). But at the same time . . . it would be nice to delegate all the decision making to the people with the most strong opinions in my life. My kids.

But that wouldn't quite work either. I asked Joseph which color the house should be and he said the color of his coat. I'm assuming he's talking about the royal blue part and not the orange part, but even that would be a bit intense. The interior paint colors would follow a similar color theme. And of course, if it were up to them each room in the house would primarily be a toy room.

So I guess the decisions are up to Kevin and me (and our moms, who tell us to "do what you want" but also will probably never visit if we choose the wrong paint colors). Windows on a garage. Painted or stained. Linoleum or carpet in the kitchen (just kidding, Mom).

I know that none of this matters in the long run. There are big important things to think about, and cabinets do not fall in that category. But it's still been valuable studying ways to make a house beautiful. It's been mind-stretching to use my imagination all the time, trying to create a space that will require as little thought as possible once it's done. It's a process of knowing when to have a backbone and when to be flexible.

All that said, if I have to think about hinges ever again I might crack.

Cake

Right now Kevin is in the kitchen working on his birthday cake. We started the tradition of making our own birthday cake years ago, and we have no plans of changing it yet. Every year I begin my hunt anew for the perfect treat, except for the time I accidentally made the same dry brownie cake I had made 2 years earlier. I've had a few things that were pretty close to perfect, but nothing is quite the holy grail of birthday desserts.

On the other hand, Kevin discovered a recipe for cheesecake with an Oreo crust and Snickers on top, and he's been fine with that since 2014. I don't blame him -- it is really delicious.

But I didn't think my family would be too interested in it since I didn't ever remember eating much cheesecake growing up. Nor did I think they would be too interested in the cheesecake that Kevin's parents had gotten while we were in town for Thanksgiving. It had gone untouched for days since we had so much other pie to eat, and I thought it might stay untouched if we took it back to my parents' house. But my mother-in-law insisted, so we took a big chunk of it with us.

The minute we showed my mom what we brought, she was really excited. "I love cheesecake!" she said.

"You do?????" I asked.

"Yes. Don't you remember? My friend Meg had a cheesecake party and I came home with her recipes and made a different cheesecake every month one year."

"Right . . ." I said as I tried to remember any cheesecake I had ever eaten in my own home. I guess I had filed it away with all the real Christmas trees my parents ever had (I only have memories for the fake Christmas tree).

"Later, I would make a cheesecake and have a fudge sauce and a raspberry sauce that we could pour on."

That I did remember, and I apologized for almost convincing Kevin to not bring home any cheesecake.

Anyway, I found this song a few months ago on lds.org and I'm wondering if I sing it over and over if the memory of all those monthly cheesecakes will come back.

I suppose maybe we should make another verse about "When Father bakes his own birthday cheesecake."