And the Heavens Opened

When we signed up for the 100 Miles of Nowhere, it was to ride for our dear friend Pip Taylor who at the time was battling Colon Cancer. The idea was to pay the fee, which ultimately will help many children whose parents have been affected by cancer, in Pip's honor. We discussed the possibility of routes and decided that this year we needed to ride close to home. We rode our bikes. Then we rode our bikes some more. We have both ridden 100 miles before. It has been a couple of years for Brett, but I have ridden that distance at least once a year for the past three years with several almost-as-long distances in between.

During one training ride for Brett we got word that Pip had lost her battle to the wretched cancer that plagued her. Brett rode 86 miles that day. It was the longest solo distance he had ever done and to make him even more of a rock star, he climbed almost 6,000 ft. My love for him increased tenfold. He rode for Pip.

On May 19th our focus changed. We would still ride, but we would now be riding in her memory. Riding in memory of someone somewhat sucks. Knowing that they have moved on from this life is touching, and painful on many levels. Although, it allows a great personal dialog for the 5-6 hours you are in the saddle. Quitting is not an option.

We adorned our bikes with Pip's name

The original 100MoN ride was on June 2nd. I had already signed up for an all-women ride on that day so we had to push our ride back a week. The beauty of this for us, or me rather, was that one week later was my sister's birthday. My sister is in heaven with Pip.

Friday June 8th was spent preparing for the day to come. We mapped the route so we would know about how many laps we would need to ride and Brett swept part of the course so we wouldn't eat the pavement on the gravel.

We set our alarms for 5:00am. We needed to start early because we had a wedding to attend at 3pm. We had to be finished in enough time to be home, showered, and on the road to the wedding. Brett was the pit crew. He got all of the bike stuff together and I got breakfast started along with getting our final snacks put in the cooler for our rest stops at the park near our home.

Brett stepped outside the door and to our amazement there was NO wind. We live in a windy city. We have wind from 10pm to 10am nearly every day. This type of wind is great if you need clear air, but not so great if you are going to be riding against it. We didn't want to waste any time getting on the road.

Ready to ride

Ready to ride too...

By 6am we were riding. We decided that we would ride what we could together and then Brett would pull ahead and I would do what I could on my own. We rode lap after lap after lap. I lost track of how many times Brett lapped me. One particular time I was riding along and he came up behind me and started singing at the top of his lungs. It scared the crap out of me and I may or may not have given him the bird. Needless to say the following times he lapped me, he softly said "Hello Love." Much better.

About 65 miles into our riding we stopped for a pit stop at our house that was about 1/8th of a mile away from our loop. We both knew that we couldn't stop for too long because the muscles in our legs would begin to tighten.

Our kids were great! They came to the park and made sure that we had full water bottles, sandwiches, and snacks. Ryan told us that he wanted our ride to be like the pros so we should just toss the water bottles and when we came back by he would have a full bottle for us. A friend and her kids cheered us on as well toward the end.

Brett finished his ride in 5 hrs 23 minutes. I finished in 5 hrs 57 minutes. I could not hold back the tears. I was overwhelmed with love and honor. We rode 100 miles for Pip on my sister's birthday, and that is when the heavens opened.

100 miles - FINISHED

The beauty of this ride is that you win your category no matter what because you make it up yourself. I won the "Fit-fat....I lost track...of how many times my husband lapped me - riding on the wings of Pip" division. Brett won the "I only hit the damn dang pot hole 6 times out of 46" division.

Why I ride

Recently I have been reading excerpts of people who ride their bikes and why they ride. The stories have inspired me to write a little blurb as to why I ride.

When I was in the 4th grade, we moved into our new house. It was an exciting time for me. I finally got my own room. No more sharing. The first Christmas in our new home is one of the very few Christmases that I actually remember as a child. Santa did not disappoint this young lady. There in front of my eyes was my very own bicycle, complete with front brakes, and no banana seat. I don't know how long I rode that bike. At the time, my classroom was in a trailer that was just south of the school playground. Surrounding the trailers were trees, if I remember correctly they were Aspen trees, or some of the like. I would ride my bike to school, infrequently I might add, and lock my bike to the tree. As beautiful as my bike was, I only remember riding it a handful of times. I was too lazy to do any more and my mom usually drove us the less than half mile to school. We were spoiled.

Fast forward to 1997, the year I got married, and I would have my first mountain bike -- a Gary Fisher that cost a whopping $500. I could probably count on my one hand how many times I actually rode my new bike. I was 19 years old, married, and still lazy. My husband would ride his bike to college and I would drive our car to work. After work I would lay on the couch and nap. For whatever reason I was no longer able to keep my eyes open.

We moved a couple of times during the time that my husband went to college. Each time we took our bikes with us, and they sat and collected dust. After we had two children, we purchased a bike trailer and I dusted off the old Gary Fisher and pulled my little kids around town. This too was done infrequently.

When my daughter was almost a year old and my post-pardom depression was finally being treated, I was invited to do a triathlon with my neighbor. At the time I was running with her and she thought it might be fun to try a swim/bike/run event. I agreed, that it did sound like fun, and I signed up with her. 

From January to June I taught myself how to swim, rode my bike infrequently...again...and continued to run 3 miles 3x a week. I remember the first time I decided that I was going to ride 12 miles. I had strapped my kids into the trailer and began my ride. About half way into my ride, it began to pour down rain. My babies were crying, I was miserable, and I called my husband to come and get us. He thought I was crazy to even attempt riding 12 whole miles.

One week before my first triathlon, I rode my mountain bike with my training partner and a few other people from the neighborhood. They all had road bikes and I didn't believe that my bike made me slower until that day. It was a miserable realization to me that no matter how hard I pedaled, I was not going to keep up with the roadies. The following week I borrowed a road bike from the local bike shop. Eight months later, I bought my first road bike - a Trek Pilot 2.1 WSD for $849. 

I began riding more often and even rode a century on that bike. On October 9, 2009 my Pilot was put to rest after being hit by a car. Bikes don't ride very well when the front tire meets the back tire.

I now own a Fezzari CR3 road bike. She is beautiful, and light. She rides smoothly and she takes me to far and away places. 

My bike allows me to leave my troubles on the road. From mini rides around the neighborhood with the kids, to 75-mile rides through beautiful canyons, my bike keeps me grounded.

This weekend I am riding 100 miles to help beat cancer. I am riding for Pip, who lost her battle with cancer just two short weeks ago. I am riding to make a difference in a life.

That is why I ride.

Life's Little Miracles

I am overwhelmed with gratitude today. My morning started at 5:13am. I was up numerous times before then, but I actually crawled out of bed at 5:13.

At 5:40am Ryan came upstairs. I finished getting ready for the day and we knelt down as a family to pray.  Ryan and I left the house at 5:50. We were supposed to be in Riverton at the Primary Children's Outpatient clinic at 6:50, registered and prepped for surgery.

Wrapped in a heated blanket playing video games

When Ryan was very little, I don't remember his age, maybe 4 years old, I noticed that his eye crossed. After numerous doctor visits, and to make a long story short, Ryan spent 6 years in glasses to correct his crossed eye.

Last September, Ryan's doctor felt that ti was time to remove him from his glasses -- that his eyes had corrected themselves.  He was thrilled. By Christmas, I noticed that his eyes were crossing again and I made an appointment with our eye Dr. By this time, we had received word that the Dr that we had seen for the past 6 years would be leaving UT and that a new Dr had taken his place.  She saw the crossing, and actually measured that it was actually crossing more than our previous Dr had seen. Ryan was put back in glasses and we made an appointment to be seen in 2 months.

At our two month appointment, we realized that the glasses were no longer correcting Ryan's crossed eye and we would need surgery to correct it.

Over the course of a few weeks, we have learned a lot about Ryan's eyes. I actually feel terrible about pieces of the story. For the sake of recording his life, I will list all of the details here.

- Ryan only uses one of his eyes to see. We are blessed that he still has 20/20 vision in his eyes. We have been told by the Dr that we are very lucky that Ryan still sees out of both of his eyes after all of these years. Most people who only use one eye to see, lose their sight at least somewhat in the eye that they do not use

Ryan has also struggled over the years being able to catch a ball. As I have learned what he actually sees - using only one eye - I have realized that this is likely part of his problem. Imagine having a ball come at you and only being able to see with one eye. No wonder he struggles...

- Ryan cannot see 3D images. A few years ago we took Ryan to see "G Force" at the theater. We viewed it in 3D and he complained about how he thought everything was blurry. I always thought that maybe it was because he wasn't wearing his glasses at the time. Now I know.

Immediately after surgery

Immediately after surgery - different angle

Ryan's surgery was uneventful. He kept me laughing when he finally came to, and I love him even more for his bravery. The first words out of Ryan's mouth when he realized that I was in the room were "Mom, I just want to see you, but my eyes hurt." I told him it was ok, that I would be right there and he said "I just want to see your face."

Ryan is one of Life's Little Miracles.

When Heaven and Earth Meet

As I sit here today, a dear friend and fellow mother just took her final breaths.

I have known that this day would come. Ms Pip suffered from the awful effects of cancer for a long time. I don't suppose it ever gets easier knowing that someone you love might soon pass beyond the veil. The unknown of time between now and when we see them again is an unbearable thought.

I find comfort in knowing that this life is not the end. When we pass through this mortal existence, our spirits live on.

I have prayed the my sweet sister could be there to greet Pip. I hope she was allowed that answer to my prayers. Today is a day when Heaven and Earth meet.

A Walk Down Memory Lane

**It's a long one**

I was 18 years old when I left home. I was ready for a change. My life was not taking me where I felt it needed to be taking me. I knew I needed some kind of education, but I also knew that I could not afford college. So, with $150 in my pocket and everything I owned packed tightly into my little Geo Metro convertible, I made my journey from Arizona to Utah.

It was July, and it was hot. The plan was that I would follow the Interstate the entire way. It took me over 12 hours to get to where I was going. I now know a better route that takes me 8 1/2 hours if I am alone, and slightly longer with the fam.

My cousin and her husband were gracious enough to let me live with them. I felt guilty staying with them so I quickly found a job, and I found a place to live with a family nearby. The rental was a diaster and still makes me teary when I think about it. My cousin and I laugh that I must have felt like they were the getto. I didn't feel that way, but I didn't want to take advantage of them either. I was young. I was immature, but I was on my own.

Sometime in either August or September of 1996, I cannot remember when, I was able to purchase a contract to an apartment, and it wasn't too long after that that I was able to get a better job than the graveyard shift at Denny's. (Deni at Denny's = awesome).

At the time, temp agencies were a popular way to get a job. I had great typing skills so I knew that I could find something using those skills. There was a call center that was hiring several hundred people and I was lucky enough to be one of those people.

During the orientation, I remember the roll call very clearly. Deni Bigler - here. Brett Berger - here. I clearly remember thinking (Berger...poor guy, that's a terrible last name, I'm sure he was teased...) We were then called into different training groups and we trained for the various positions.

A few days into training, I was put onto the phones. The learning curve wasn't that big and i caught on quickly. Little did I know that someone had noticed that I was excelling.

A few weeks into working I ended up on the same team with that young man named Brett Berger. One day  Brett asked me why I hadn't responded to his e-mail. I asked him "What's e-mail?" This was 1996 you know. I came from a small town and you had to pay a lot of money for Internet. I didn't have a clue how to e-mail. Brett quickly showed me how and our relationship was born.

Six months from the time I met Brett Berger, I was married to him. Two days from now I will celebrate 15 years with Brett. He is my best friend. We have been through a lot together. He accepts me through all of my weaknesses. He looks past my faults and loves me for me. I love him with all of my heart.

Brainwashed

Every year the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints has a meeting called 'General Conference'. It is an opportunity for people around the world to hear from our leaders. A topic is not assigned to the speakers. They are asked to pray about what they feel God would want His people to know.

I grew up listening to General Conference. Sometimes we would go to the church where it was broadcast and watch it. Other times we would listen to it on the radio. It wasn't until I moved away from home and lived in an apartment where all of my roommates watched every session that I fully came to love 'General Conference'. It is rare that I miss a session, and I feel a loss when I do.

It also wasn't until I moved to UT that I saw the utter persecution of members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints twice a year. Picket signs are made and evangelical shouters stand on the street corners that surround the conference building. Some even wrap our sacred garments around their heads and yell obscenities. We have taught our kids to look the other way. I have reminded myself to look the other way.

I don't typically take a lot of merit to the things that are said against the religion that I love. However, with the recent conference being just two short weeks ago, I read an online post from a distant relative stating that he had listened to General Conference this year and that he couldn't possibly believe that LDS people believe in a loving God and that we are all brainwashed. My mind has not strayed far from that post for several days. So, if I am brainwashed, here is what I have been brainwashed to believe:

• We lived with our Heavenly Father before we were born.
  
• We have come to earth to prove ourselves worthy to return to our Heavenly Father's presence.
  
• Just as in days of old, living prophets live on the earth today.
  
• Just as in days of old, temples have returned to the earth. In those temples we are given instruction. We have the opportunity to make binding sacred covenants with God. If we give strict heed to those covenants, we will receive the blessings of heaven, from a loving Heavenly Father.
  
• My family can and will be together forever. Death will not depart me from my husband or my children. When I think of the times in my life when one of my family members has knocked on heaven's door, or even when my sister was taken from this life early, I cannot fathom what it must feel like to have a belief that I will not be with those that I love after this life. It is too painful.
  
• We were not sent to earth to bear our burdens alone.
  
• Jesus Christ is the foundation of all. He is our Savior and the Redeemer of the world. It is by Him and through His matchless atonement that we, the natural men, can repent and be cleansed of our sins.

So, to my distant relative whom I am sure will never read this, if being with my family forever, and having a belief that God still wants to lead and guide His people on the earth today, and that we are not alone, that Jesus Christ is our Savior, and that God is our loving Heavenly Father is being brainwashed, then my dear loved one - scrub away.

When Heaven Weeps

Each of us experiences at times our own box of darkness. Feelings of self doubt and insecurities are a part of each of our lives. Are we good enough? Are we thin enough? Are our homes clean enough? (In case you're wondering, mine is not...)

It seems that I know many people these days who are carrying around their own boxes. Some boxes are bigger than others. Some seem harder to climb out of. Some are down right heavy.

I had a recent conversation with someone that I love where they told me they just didn't want to have thoughts of suicide any more. Thoughts of suicide? Really?

That conversation has turned my thoughts to the times in my life when I no longer believed I could go on. On one particular night I thought it would be a good idea to drown myself in the bathtub. My box of darkness had ever encompassed me. I no longer believed that I was a worthy mother, wife, daughter, person. I thought that by literally drowning myself, my sorrows would cease and those around me would be much better off. That night as I lay asleep in bed, my sweet little angel of a daughter nudged me in the middle of the night and said, "Mom, I just need you." That one act was an answer to a prayer. I was needed. If no one on this earth needed me, my daughter needed me, and she needed me just at the right time. I realized for one small moment that my Heavenly Father knew me for He had sent an answer to my prayers.

A few weeks ago I attended the temple. I had gone alone and was in search of some much needed answers. As I sat in the chapel waiting, I had a clear impression "You are ok. If I want your other trials to cease,  you need to accept yourself." I pushed the thought away. Surely the answer to my prayers wouldn't be directed at me. I was there to find answers for those that I love. The thought came again "You are ok. Stop the cycle." What a healing experience. I am forever hard on myself. My outward appearance is tainted in my mind. I have a hard time with self acceptance and I feel that others must feel the same about me that I do. Yet as my box of darkness begins to seep its way back to my door step, a loving Heavenly Father hears my pleas and He heals my broken heart.

My heart aches that those that I love feel that if they were taken out of the equation, life would be much better. Lately I have had a glimpse of when heaven weeps.

A Lesson in Patience

It is 30 degrees outside and all I want to do is ride. I gear up - three layers of pants, ear muffs, face mask, arm warmers and coat, thick gloves, glasses and helmet. As I glide down the driveway I ask myself "Is this really what you should be doing?" I don't really care today. I just want to ride.

The first half mile of my ride is uneventful. The wind is at my back and I feel pretty strong. Two seconds later I am turned on to another road and a wind gush nearly knocks my bike over. The voice inside my head clearly tells me to return home. Today is not the day. I struggle against the wind for the next mile and a half loop back to my home. I struggle to breathe and I keep telling myself to leave it on the road. Don't bring it home Deni, just leave it on the road.

It's funny how life is sometimes. Saturday I ran a 10k with a friend. I beat my time by over a minute and for some reason, that wasn't good enough. My calf is giving me trouble, and I feel like I have somehow failed because of it. I expect perfection, but what is perfect? A podium finish? I don't have that answer and I wish I did.

In Between

Just before the new year, I took Sydney shopping. She needed Sunday shoes. My thoughts have swirled around the phases we are going through with Sydney. She is becoming a lady. I miss the days where she was figuring out words and teasing us by getting her hands wet and acting like she was sneezing and getting us wet. I miss the fun-loving, little miss independent. My little girl is becoming a lady.

I'm an in-and-out kind of shopper. I like going into the store, finding what I need and leaving. Sydney likes going into a store, touching all of the items in the store, asking for everything she has touched, and touching some more. It absolutely drives me crazy. I try to remind myself that I am spending time with her and it isn't all that long before she will be out of my reach.

We looked all over the mall for shoes. We finally went to a store where a worker told us that if she could fit into a size 3 shoe, she could fit into a size 5 women shoe. So, off to the woman’s section we went. Of course all of the shoes on the woman’s side had 3 inch heels. She was convinced she needed them all. I reminded her that she was 8, not 16. I'm sure all of the people who passed us thought I was a terrible mother, but uhhh, she's 8.

We finally settled on a couple pair of shoes from the first store that we went to. She was thrilled, and beautiful, although a bit disappointed that they weren't high-heeled boots. I reminded her that she wasn't a baby, and she wasn't a teenager just yet. She was somewhere in between.

Of Days Past/passed

Recently I spent several hours going over our pictures of our kids so that I could take advantage of a Groupon coupon that I bought a year ago. As I sifted through the 12,000+ photos, my heart ached for the days that have passed me. I reflected on my role as a mother. Have I taught my kids the principles they need to know to make it in this world? Are they honest when they are away from me? Do they have the confidence they need to do what they need to do?

I smiled at Sydney as I went through her pictures. She painted her clothes, and her face. She dumped rice all over the floor and when I caught her, she scattered it even more.

I miss the days that I had to have the alarm chime on the door so that I knew where she was. During those days I knew that if I heard 'Back Door', I was safe, but if I heard 'Front Door' I had to go running because she was on her way to the park. One day I didn't hear the door. I was in the basement and when I came upstairs, she was nowhere to be found. I panicked. We were new in the neighborhood, and not many people knew us. I went to the park and she wasn't there. I was beside myself. I ran around the block, and she was with a woman that was bringing her home. I miss that Sydney. Now she is self-sufficient. She does her own hair most days, she prefers to make her own breakfast. She helps me in the kitchen. All of those things are nice, but I miss the little girl that kept me on my toes. I guess she still keeps me on my toes, just in a different way.

I mourned for the little guy that Ryan once was. He showed me that people can do hard things. His hospital pictures are sometimes hard to look at. As he has grown, and we have documented his life through pictures, he has become a good young man. He is caring and thoughtful. I often sing to him when I put him down for bed, and there are certain songs that he won't let me sing because they break his heart. One song is by Hilary Weeks called "God Bless Your Way". It is about a man that is trying to find a place to stay the night of Christ's birth - he is constantly turned away. Ryan cries every time. He cries when he sees homeless people. One year we were in Arizona visiting my family and a homeless woman came down her street and was digging through the trash. Ryan couldn't stand to watch it. He has a very tender heart.

I love my children and I miss the days that have passed.

I Belong

Last night Brett and I had the opportunity to serve in the Lindon Cannery. It was a welfare assignment, so it was longer than the typical shift if you are there to purchase goods on your own. They sent the sign up around on Sunday and I sent a txt message to Brett and asked him if he would go with me on a date. I know you aren't supposed to txt in church, and I don't normally, but I needed to know if he would be willing.

Our Assignments
We arrived at the cannery at 3:30, a half hour before our scheduled shift. We sat in the car, both reading articles on our phones. At 3:45 we decided to go and check in. Lucky for us, we were in charge of labeling. (no dirty clothes)

Brett's assignment was to get the cans from the cooler, and my job was to stand at a conveyer belt and make sure the cans all had labels on them. We were working on pork and beans.

When I first arrived at my station, a missionary came and introduced himself to me and gave me instructions on what I was to do. I was nervous that I wouldn't do a good job, or that I would miss a can, but I caught on quickly and took care of the job at hand. Brett was across the way from me and another missionary kept going back and forth between us and setting up 'a date'. He was so funny. He would come and tell me that Brett thought that I was quite the catch and that he wanted to set us up. Then he would go over to Brett and tell him that I thought he was pretty neat. We conversed for quite some time about our 'date' that we would go on when we left for the evening. Funny thing, I told him where we were eating and just as we were getting ready to finish our food, he and his wife showed up to eat. We had a good laugh and he told us he was checking to make sure Brett followed through.

A New Friend
We had been at the cannery for about 20 minutes when the missionary that was helping me asked me how many kids I had and what their ages were. I answered him, and a few minutes later he said "I bet you would be just like my Kim if she were still here." I looked at him and asked him if his daughter had passed away and he told me that she was killed by a drunk driver when she was 17. We are the same age. We reminisced about Kim, and I told him about Azure and we talked the night away. We spoke of the pain of losing a loved one, a pain that can't possibly be understood until you go through it yourself. He often made comments about how it was hard for him to look at me because he pictured me being his daughter. My heart ached.

In the end, I got his phone number and promised to visit him and his wife, who now suffers from fibromyalgia. I don't want to replace their daughter, but I know how important it is to be able to talk about those you love who have passed beyond the veil.

Another Testimony
Standing on that stool at that conveyer belt last night, I was proud of the membership I have in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It gives me countless opportunities to serve others. Not only did I assist in the process of canning for the welfare program of the church, I made a new friend, and I can only pray that I can help heal a broken heart. I believe it is what the Savior would do if he were standing right beside me. I'm grateful to know it is where I belong.

Time Stamped

As I try to wrap my feelings around themselves and jot them down, my emotions take me in multiple directions and I can hardly decipher what it is that my heart needs to say.

This week is 'Azure' week, as dubbed by a friend. I think it fits. Azure week. I feel like each day I should be doing something, kind of like at school when it is 'Mustang' week, or whatever your mascot may be. We are mustangs, which ironically is the same mascot that I was as a child.

I feel like I should down some Dr. Pepper, but I don't drink carbonation, so I will just do it in spirit. A toast to Razz. Razz is what I called her. Razzle, Dazzle, Daisy -- Razz for short.

Each year I want to share something new,  a newness to the story that I haven't shared before. If I share something new, someone might be touched, and know just how much I loved her. The thing is, there isn't much that I haven't shared, so today I will open my heart one more time, and possibly share a duplicate story.

Azure lived with us for several months. She brought joy into our home, but she also drove me crazy. I caught her drinking out of the milk jug. Who does that? She did, and it was no big deal to her. You have to understand, we are germies at our house. You don't drink out of the milk jug, or the apple juice jug, or the 2-liter bottle, unless you are chugging the very last drops. That is unless you are Azure, and then you drink out of the jug whenever you want to and it is ok.

Azure loved the Little Rascals. She taught Ryan 'the sign'. She would ask him "What's your sign" and he would give it to her.

Ryan made funny noises when he wanted milk, and she LOVED it. She would laugh as if it was the funniest thing she had ever heard. When we finally went to get it on video, he stopped with those noises. She was devastated. I think she almost blamed me for wanting to get it on video.

The day Azure passed from this life is a day I will never forget. The events of the day repeat in my mind from time to time. My phone log from the day showed 1:07pm MST as the end of my phone call with her. Her very last words on this earth, to me, to any one of us at 1:07pm.

We received a journal entry from a friend who was there. She recalled pulling out onto the highway and seeing the car roll at 12:07pm Arizona time. The exact same time. I can't help but feel like there is significance to that time. I have mulled it over in my mind time and time again. Even if our clocks were slightly off of each other it is hard to believe that we both recorded that time. I believe her passing was time stamped.

Daughter of a King

I hope that one day Syd can look back on her life and realize how special she is. I had the opportunity to work in her classroom today. I arrived early and got instructions from the teacher. The recess bell rang and the children began to file into the classroom. The teacher gave instructions to the class to get out their math journal, and their math book. I quietly observed as Sydney followed instructions and took out her journal, and then as if it were her responsibility, she turned the the little guy next to her and gently took out his journal and his math book and helped him with the instructions the teacher had given. The little boy never acknowledged Syd, but he has special needs, and I don't know that he would even think to thank her. I was amazed at her tenderness towards him. I pulled the teacher aside and asked if she always did just what I had observed her doing. The teacher affirmed that yes, Sydney was always helpful, and she put her there because Timmy needed the help. I was touched by her example.

On August 6th, Sydney became a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints by being baptized. My experience in teaching Sydney about the gospel has been different than with Ryan and I appreciate the opportunities it has awarded me. My testimony has grown in being able to answer her questions.

We were fortunate to have family attend Syd's special event. Aunt Jessica braided her hair while I got the food ready for the luncheon we had following her baptism. Grandma and Grandpa Berger were in attendance along with Aunt Stefanie, Uncle Garrin, and family, and Aunt Teresa and her children. Grandma and Grandpa Bigler were also in attendance as well as Aunt Jessica, Uncle Nic and family (including Nic's sister), and my cousin Kania. Brett baptized her and Grandpa Bigler confirmed her a member of the church and gave her the gift of the Holy Ghost. My emotions were hard to contain. I always love baptisms. I love the special spirit that is present.

Now that school is in full swing, I rarely get time with Syd. She is busy doing homework, chores and playing with friends. We had the fun opportunity of watching her do a little 'junior drill team' performance last week at the JV football game. She did a great job and enjoyed the time she spent with her friend.

I recognize Sydney's divine nature. She has come to me from a much higher power than I can comprehend. I hope and pray that I can be the mother that she needs and teach her the principles she needs to withstand the temptations of our day. She truly is the daughter of a King.

And When I Doubt...

During my sister's funeral, a song was sung with the lyrics that said "...and when I doubt, there are things in life I just can't figure out, I trust that God is in control, and I hold on to the things I know."

I have had a lot of opportunities recently to reflect on the direction I have taken for my life. Either I am following the principles that God would want me to follow, or I am wasting my life away and I should be 'enjoying' things that I choose not to be a part of me.

All of my choices have consequences. My choice not to consume certain substances allows me to enter the temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, a place that I believe is the home of our Heavenly Father. That choice also allows me to be able to have a clear mind in an otherwise cloudy world. If my anxiety flairs, I run or I bike, or most importantly, I get on my knees and I pray. I do this to clear my head, and through that outlet, I am still able to make clear choices. Nothing has altered my mind in a way that will cause me to make an unwise choice, resulting in a tragic consequence.

My choice to raise my children in an organized religion allows me to reflect often on my Savior, Jesus Christ. We are aiming to become like Him. Jesus Christ's life was one of service. He was about His Father's business. I aim to do the same. These choices have the consequence of constant peace. I need that peace.

I have chosen to believe the story of a young 14-year old boy who wanted to know which organized religion was true. He read in the bible in James 1:5 - ^aIf any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him."  He then took that challenge and went into a grove of trees, resulting in an answer that I believe we all wish we could receive. He had the privilege of seeing our Heavenly Father and His Son, Jesus Christ. From this visit, the gospel of Jesus Christ was restored to the earth, the same gospel that was on the earth in ancient times. This gospel consisted of apostles, prophets, evangelists, teachers. This same gospel is here on the earth today.


During a lesson on eternal marriage, the thought was presented like this - If we are truly eternal beings, if there truly is eternity, why then would there not be eternal marriage? I believe in eternal marriage. My husband, and my children are sealed to me for time and all eternity by way of the Holy Priesthood which has been restored to the earth today. I live my life in accordance to receive the sealing power of the Holy Spirit. This sealing power can be ours if we live for it.


I know God lives. I know he loves me. I knows He hears and answers my prayers. I know that Jesus Christ gave His life for me and for you. I know that you can have the same knowledge that I have if you ask in sincere prayer.

So, when I doubt there are things in life I just can't figure out, I trust that God is in control, 

and I hold on to the things I know. 

A Piece of My Heart

For years I have pieced together pieces of my life. My biological father stepped out of my life very early in my life. I was blessed by an amazing father to step in and allow me to etch myself into his heart. I will forever be grateful to Keith Bigler for allowing me to be 'his' daughter. It takes a lot for a person to do what my dad did for me. I love him for it.

Throughout my life I've learned about pieces of my family that were not a part of my growing up. Four years ago I attended the funeral of my biological paternal grandmother. It was a wonderful experience for me and I began the process of healing a few pieces of my heart. During the summer of that same year, we traveled to TX and spent some time with that side of the family. Even though I was grateful for the connection, I still knew that there were more people that I needed to find.

I don't know how old I was when I learned that I had two brothers. I've known for a very long time. I payed a service to find them and it came up with a dead end. All of the phone numbers that were listed were all disconnected. I was frustrated, and I had a fear that even if I did find them, they wouldn't want to be a part of my life. I worried that their mom would still want to protect them from the knowledge that my sister and I existed.

Fast forward to February. I had just finished watching the TV Series "Who Do You Think You Are?". The story portrayed there peaked my curiosity. I wondered if I would be able to find them on Facebook, a social media site. I remembered one brother's name, but I didn't remember the other's. I typed in the name and there were several entries there with that name. I then tried 'googling' that name and I found the information I had forgotten. I went back to Facebook and looked up a different name and there they were right on my computer screen. I decided to e-mail my Uncle and Aunt in TX and let them know that I thought I had found them. I was scared, nervous, anxious, you name it - that was me. I decided that I would send a message to both of the boys and hope that one of them responded. I went to church and when I returned, I had a message from one brother and we made the connection. We were in fact siblings.

Over the course of the next few months we sent messages back and forth answering each other's questions. I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know each brother, both of them being so different, yet so wonderful.

On Sydney's birthday we were spending some time with some friends. My friend told me that she was thinking about making a quick trip to California to go through the temple with her sister-in-law who was going through for the first time. I told her that maybe I could go with her and we could meet my brothers for the first time. When I returned home, I saw that one brother was going to be out of town for the weekend and I didn't want to meet one without meeting the other, so I told the friend that I would not be able to go. She was bummed.

Two days later, she sent me a txt message and told me that she could really use a buddy to go to CA. I then started talking to Brett and trying to make the decision as to whether or not I should go. I sent a message to both brothers and asked them if they would be in town. They both responded and they were both available around the time that I was going to be in town.

So, on Tuesday July 26, 2011 I hopped into the car and drove to CA. We left around noon and we arrived at our destination just after 8pm local time. I walked into the restaurant that we were meeting one brother. He turned and saw me and walked over and gave me a big hug. I could not believe the love that I felt for him immediately. The feelings are some that I have never experienced before.

Day One - After 26 years we meet.

We talked, we barely ate, we laughed, we hugged again, and we arranged to see each other again over the course of the next 24 hours.

Lunch

On Wednesday I met my second brother. We met for lunch and I immediately felt comfortable in his arms. We talked of the past and tried to put the pieces of our lives together. The couple of hours that I got to spend with them at lunch was not enough. We planned to have breakfast on Thursday morning. Thursday morning arrived and we met for smoothies/coffee at Starbucks. I was able to meet their mother and I felt so accepted. It was a wonderful meeting. 

Saying goodbye was agonizing. I had waited my whole life to meet my brothers and now I was having to walk away and go home. I knew I needed to be home for my family, but it was a horrible feeling to have to walk away.

As we drove away I knew that I was leaving a piece of my heart in California. 

Sacred Trials

While at Women's conference in April,  I wrote down a few notes that could lead to a blog post or two. It has taken me a while to pull my thoughts together enough to jot them down here.

One of the things that Sister Dalton spoke of was that of 'Sacred Trials'. That phrase rang true to me. I have had sacred trials. In the darkness of those trials, sometimes the light seems ever distant. Then as I emerge from that darkness and see the light of day, the sacredness of the lessons learned etches itself into my heart.

I have thought often about what makes a trial sacred. Many of my life's experiences have changed my perspective. Many of my prayers have been heard and my soul, if even for a moment communes with that of a Higher power.

The Seed
As I really begin to immerse myself in the lessons I have learned throughout my life, I of course give credit to the wonderful parents and leaders that I have had. I haven't always been a spiritual person. While in High School, my choices took me down a path that I am not proud of today. However, as I walked away from that path and allowed the Atonement of Jesus Christ to work in my life, a seed was planted.

When I was 19 years old I was married in the Mt. Timpanogos temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. I made covenants with Brett and with God that bound me to Brett beyond the grave. I was not married until 'death do us part'. I was married for time, and throughout all eternity. Any children that came into my family would be sealed to me beyond the grave as well. My seed was beginning to grow.

Along Came One
Brett and I were married for 2 1/2 years before we were blessed with Ryan in our lives. I had miscarried twice before he came and I was thrilled to be a mom. Shortly after he was born, we learned that he had no immune system. The treatment -- a bone marrow transplant. Without diminishing the sacred nature of some of the things that went on within the walls of the hospital, I will say that angels walk the halls of the Children's hospital, and we were recipients of their care. That trial has become very sacred to me. I have learned things that I never would have learned had I not gone through it. The most important thing that I learned was that God hears and answers prayers, and miracles are still performed on the earth today.

A Box of Darkness
When Sydney came along, I was plagued with severe post-pardom depression. I had no idea that such feelings could even exist. I was a mess. I remember very well the box of darkness that I was stuck in. While I never want to return to that box, I have learned so much from my experiences and I have empathy for those who suffer from this horrible mental illness. There are times even today, 8 years later, that I find myself on my way back to the box. I am grateful that I have learned to use the tools given me to climb out of the box from time to time.

Counting Blessings
I could probably spend hours recounting my life and documenting the trials I have had and the lessons I have learned. I am a better person today than I was a year, 5 years, even 10 years ago.  I have much to be thankful for. I am grateful to be able to recognize that my blessings have come from Sacred Trials.

Rockwell Relay - Glorious End

During leg 7 (there were 8 legs of the ride), Joy had a mechanical problem. Her tire blew a hole in it. I'm not sure how long she had to wait for our support vehicle to show up, but she had given us a heads up that it might blow so I was anxious to get going  from the pit stop that we made. We all got out and helped her put a new tire on. Within a few hundred feet the second tire blew the side wall.

 I quickly got out of the van and offered to finish her leg. Within a few minutes I was off.

As I rode to the top of the hill, I kept telling myself to prove what I as made of. I felt like I had failed the team in my second leg because I had allowed myself to be under fueled. It was now my time to redeem myself. I made good time up the 1.66 mile climb. As I reached the summit, Joy was standing outside of her car offering to finish the leg for me. I declined. I told her that the beauty of working so hard on an ascent is the descent that comes after. I felt so bad for her. I could understand how she must be feeling, but I also knew that I had worked hard, and I need to prove to my team, and to myself that I could be strong.

Climbing...

Joy offering me some energy chews.

I ended up riding just over 15 miles on this leg. When I arrived at the exchange, my rider wasn't around. We yelled for our team number and she came out of the crowd to take the bracelet and finish.

Hilary leaving for the final leg.

Hilary kicking butt. She was so much farther than we had expected.

Joy found a bike shop in Heber, UT and got a new tire. We really wanted to finish together. We thought that we would reach our next rider early on in her leg, but she kicked some butt and it took us a while to find her. Once we did find her, we all jumped out of the car and took our bikes off the rack and finished the remaining 8 miles with her.

One last pic before the finish

We figure we lost an hour with the mechanical problem. That hour allowed a LOT of teams to pass us. Through it though we formed a bond with each other that we wouldn't have formed had that not happened. Rides like these are not about just one person. They are about pulling together as a team and stepping up to the plate when you need to.

Joy - complete Joy

Rockwell Relay - Dead Center

Me, Hilary, and KM ready waiting for Joy.

It was a lot of fun being in the vehicle and cheering on the team. We found that it was best to cheer on for the first half of the leg, and then go on to the next exchange so that we could prepare ourselves for the next leg.

Superhero Joy. Always making us laugh.

By noonish I was back on the road. I made the mistake of not fueling my body enough. That coupled with the heat, and a very strong headwind, my next leg of 16.4 miles was brutal. The wind was so bad on the back of the mountain that there was no relief on the descents. I had to constantly pedal. By mile 11, I was starving. Luckily Joy, my teammate, gave me some CHOMPS to eat before I left. I really didn't think I would need them as the leg was only 16 miles, but I'm forever grateful that she gave them to me. Typically, you eat one gooey goodness every hour. I was hungry enough and out of enough energy that I ate six of the dang things within just a few minutes.

Waiting for Hilary to meet me at Exchange 4, my second leg

Notice the deer on the side of the road. It scared the crap out of me.

SO glad to be finished! 

The next leg of the race was an out and back leg. They would not allow the cars to go and support our riders so we were at that rest stop until our rider returned. We hung out and talked and ate chocolate-dipped cinnamon bears and strawberries. Since it was a 'pamperfest' there were two massage therapists there. (Not quite enough for the crowd)  I got in the line, but it was so long that I hopped out of it. I think that time was some of my favorite. I really enjoyed getting to know the women on my team.

Rockwell Relay - The Beginning.

This past weekend I was invited to participate in the Rockwell Relay Pamperfest. A friend that I have made through cycling had won a team entry and she ended up sick.

I have to admit, I was a little giddy when she asked me to ride. I wanted to put a team together, but I was so busy at the end of June, I didn't have time to put anything together. I just figured I'd hold off until next year.

We had a team meeting on Tuesday July 5th. We decided who would ride which legs, what time we would meet, etc. We all thought it would be best to sleep in our own beds and drive up early Saturday morning to the Snowbasin ski resort in Ogden. Of course I didn't sleep that well the night before the ride, and my stomach was in knots all morning as I was the team member that was going to start us off.

The team before the start
L-R - Joy, Hilary, KM, Myrinda, Me

Our ride was 168 miles of some of the most beautiful country I have ever seen. I had no idea that Utah had so much beauty just north of me. We went from mountainous beauty to lush green hillsides to massive walls of red rock. We passed reservoir, after reservoir, after reservoir. It was absolutely beautiful.

My first leg of the relay was 22.22 miles. We began by circling the parking lot of the Snowbasin resort twice and then a climb out of the resort. We descended Trappers Loop and that allowed me to be FAST. I got going 42 mph going down the hill.

The First Descent

My phrase on this leg - "on your left".  I started at the front of the pack and after the first circle around the parking lot I had dropped back to the back of the pack. The road was damp from the sprinklers and there was a little gravel. I was a little nervous and took the loops with caution. As we left the parking lot, we all began the first climb of the day. I looked up ahead and there were probably 20 or so ladies in front of me. I felt really, really slow, but as the minutes began to pass, I began to pass those women. There were very few that I didn't pass on the climb and I felt great. I pushed myself and played leap frog with a girl several times. By the end of the leg she said to me "You pass me on every single hill!" I smiled and said, "Yeah, but you pass me on every single descent." She laughed and said "That's because I'm heavier and that makes the descents faster." We both rode near each other for the last 2 miles and finished within seconds of each other.

We had fun in the van cheering on the rest of our team. We would drive next to our rider and honk our horn in a funny way. I actually loved that because I knew when I heard that sound, it was my ladies behind me cheering me on.