Death Valley

At the end of February, we went camping in Death Valley again with a bunch of other families, including the Palmers!  This spring was a rare "superbloom" event in the valley, so the desert flowers were amazing.  I tried to get a picture of all of them, even though I couldn't figure out what they were until later.
   

  

We had to stop at Badwater, as usual, and the kids had fun licking the disgusting salt (we told them not to, I swear!), and dug an impressive well.
  

Warm, Salty Water!

I, being a nerd, borrowed a friend's flower guide and was finally able to find the names of most of the plants we kept seeing.
  

We also stopped again this year at Salt Creek to see the pupfish.  Elise wanted some quiet time with me, so we walked ahead alone for awhile.  When we rejoined the rest of the group, I was pleasantly surprised to see them all so fascinated with the little fish!
    

  
On the way home, our family took a detour to go see the Trona Pinnacles.  We got the camp stove out and ate our last camp dinner there at sunset (Frito Pie.)  Evan was super cute when he said, "Thank you for cooking us this delicious meal, Mom!"  He later explained that, in Manners Moment at Co-Op, they had talked about how important it is to always thank the cook.
  

Soon after we got back, I had my 12-week ultrasound and simultaneously got the results of my 10-week blood test, which now includes information on the gender of the baby.  To announce the news, I brought four pink milkshakes home for the kids and let them figure it out.
  

After almost a year of dilly-dallying, we finally took Connor to the Optometrist at Costco and bought him a pair of glasses.  He was pretty happy to get them, since he only needs to wear them when he feels like it, such as in class, or anytime he wants to see long distances better.
  

Not the pair he chose, FYI.

Connor and Elise passed their promotion into Green Belt at Taekwondo.  Now they're considered "intermediate" students, and things will get a lot more challenging.
  

  
It was my turn to write a message for our ward newsletter in March, so I decided to write about one of my experiences at Death Valley.  I still have the little rock.


Ward Council Message

This February, my family had the opportunity to go camping with friends in Death Valley National Park.  We visited most of our favorite landmarks, and enjoyed seeing the “superbloom” brought on by recent rains.  Being out in nature did a lot to soothe feelings of inadequacy and fatigue I had been struggling with lately, but the busyness of kids and camping left little time for peace and quiet.  

By Sunday afternoon we still hadn’t done much hiking, so we stopped at Mosaic Canyon on the way out of the park.  It quickly became clear that my kids and husband weren’t in much of a hiking mood, so Ryan lagged behind with the rock-climbing little ones while I went ahead in search of some solitude.  I walked for about twenty minutes, enjoying the drama and beauty of the canyon’s different personalities, then found a quiet place to sit, think, and pray.  

As I sat on a rocky ledge looking at God’s creations, I noticed the pebbles around my feet, and picked one up.  It was granite, with intricate stripes and specks of color.  Almost certainly, I was the first person to ever see this tiny work of art.  I had a sudden flash of understanding, that most of God’s creation wasn’t made for an audience, and yet He puts as much care and beauty into the smallest wildflower or pebble as He does into the great forests and canyons. Matthew 10:29 says, “Are not two sparrows sold for a farthing? and one of them shall not fall on the ground without your Father.” Similarly, the little efforts I make in living the Gospel or serving my family are no less valuable simply because they aren’t big or flashy or perfect.  

As God’s spirit children, we are his greatest creations.  We are more unique and special and varied than the pebbles and boulders and peaks in any wilderness.  I know the Lord has a special design for each of our lives, and takes delight in the progress we make, however small.

-- Erinn Brown