Recipe for Happy

a different kind of prodigal

2012-02-06T13:28:00.002-07:00

I can tell I'm slowly pulling myself together.

Having discussed it with Heavenly Father, we decided that I'm allowed to take it slow...that I could inspect and address my heartache a little bit at a time, so that when I am not handling my hurt I can function as normally as possible.

In exchange, I have to keep becoming better.

For example, I have been studying a wonderful talk by Elder Holland on the parable of the prodigal son. And not actually on the younger son, either -- the older one. The one who stayed home to work on the farm like he was supposed to, and feels angry and taken-for-granted when his ridiculous brother gets a party just for showing up.

One thing I've learned from this talk is that it isn't possible to have more than everything, and everything is precisely what Heavenly Father offers us, prodigal and faithful sons alike. It's the story in Matthew 19, where the part-day laborers get paid the same as the all-day laborers who worked for a greater amount of time and in less favorable circumstances. Christ shared this parable after His disciples asked what they were going to receive for forsaking everything and following Him.

It's almost like He said, "exactly what I promised -- and no, not a thing more."

We shouldn't labor in the kingdom our whole lives expecting some greater reward than our neighbors who struggle to figure out what we are blessed to intuitively understand. We should labor in the kingdom for the joy of the work, and out of an understanding that we are blessed with the opportunity to labor in Heavenly Father's kingdom -- that this opportunity is our reward.

I'm not very good at remembering that. It's easier for me to understand that the gospel makes us different, and if people can't tell that we're different, we're doing something wrong. It's easier for me to understand that I am meant to be a teacher, and as such it's part of who I am to persuade people to be better and use my words to remind them of truth. The downside of this is that I look down on people sometimes. Plus, I try to teach them things that they can only learn on their own, and then I get frustrated and forget who they really are.

I'm trying to realize that so long as each of us become who we need to become, we're all going to be fine -- whether that's after a course of riotous living, or when it's finally time to inherit the farm and "all the robes in the closet and every ring in the drawer." We're not rivals. No one is perfect, and that puts us all on the same team. We are brothers and sisters, and we should (and can learn to be) excited that everyone gets an equal pay, regardless of the length of their workday. We should and CAN LEARN TO BE excited that the rewards of our current righteousness can be opportunities, now, to build the kingdom in our own particular way.

It's really hard for me to see people missing those opportunities though. It's like I think, "hellooooo, Dad has work for you to do, would you please get with the program?" or "I am just too busy helping Dad to hang out with you -- why don't you come help too, and then we can be together!" Or, I think what it really boils down to... "Is spending all of your inheritance money really more important to you than...me?"

But I have learned a lesson over and over in the last year or so, and that lesson is this: it is never the wrong thing to forgive someone. Someone misled you? Someone hurt someone you love? Someone assumed the worst of you? Someone didn't collaborate in your happy future plans?

Forgive them. Love them anyway.

I am still a credit to the kingdom even if someone I love -- anyone, really -- chooses to be somewhere else instead of at home, helping me do Father's work. I bet the brother who stayed home missed his brother every day, and there were some days he wanted to take a break from working the farm, just to go spend time with him. I certainly feel that way sometimes. Regardless, the older brother still deserved his Father's gentle rebuke for his anger and fear.

When it comes down to it, I wander from home too, outwardly or inwardly, and that wandering doesn't change the personal responsibility that I have to obey anyway. Each hardship, each painful result of my wandering, has shown me my weaknesses. Working through each weakness reveals to me the unfailing love of Jesus Christ. I can't fault anyone else for going through that process, too, and the fact that I do sometimes is just one more way I need to come to Christ.

blip on the radar

2012-02-05T01:51:00.002-07:00

Good news: I'm not dead!

I just haven't felt much like writing. It would have been much the same as what I've already written lately. I'm still just...doing my best, one day at a time.

In happy news, Sariah came to visit me today! We went to Temple Square and talked about boys and climbed inside the dryer. (Yes, you read that right. Pictures forthcoming.)

All in all, it was a huge blessing that she came. When 90% of your friends have known you for about a month, it's so nice to just relax with someone you grew up with, knowing already that she loves you just the way you are.

good morning beautiful

2012-01-24T19:10:00.000-07:00

One of the best feelings in the world is that moment when you first wake up in the morning and you realize that you're inside you're own head...and you're okay with that.

That was my first feeling this morning, a patient sort of contentment. "Oh, hello again, consciousness. What are we going to do today?"

This sort of equanimity is hard-earned and hard to keep, so I spent the morning listening to Christian music and making wheat tortillas (because, alas, I am out of yeast.) I also went to the store to pick up oranges and juice, because I think I am getting a cold -- a result of my recent neglect.

I had a lovely morning, and it is such a blessing, having moments like this.

survival mode

2012-01-23T17:16:00.000-07:00

As I told Cindy this morning, I'm in survival mode. I never actually made bread the other day. And I need to do laundry. And (perhaps worst of all) I'm running on 6 hours of sleep. I've just been so...distracted. Just doing other things.

Don't get me wrong: it is a good thing to be distracted sometimes and let a few things slide. I am a believer in appropriate escapism. And right this moment, life is not particularly easy: I miss Chris. We are still doing our best to be (and become) the Christlike people we are meant to be, and trying to appropriately encourage each other in this effort. In my best moments, I feel really good about this. In other moments, I just worry. Not knowing for sure how things are going to go can really burden your heart, especially when the outcome matters so much to you.

With all that going on, I think it's good to spend some time just sort of...resting. I skype with Rachel, and play board games with my roommate, things I enjoy. What I do NOT enjoy, however, is staying awake until 3am and forgetting to eat and neglecting to write in my journal and letting my room get messy. These are the things that are the hardest to manage when I am struggling, and yet carefully managing these things makes the struggle so much more bearable.

I'm trying to find a balance between being gentle on myself and tightening my belt to handle the onslaught of temptation I'm facing. Because it is a temptation: to give up, to despair, to just throw my hands in the air and quit. Whenever we are at the verge of something amazing, Satan goes into overdrive and we're left asking, "What did I do??" (The answer to that is, ironically, "everything you should have." That's just how it works.)

Taking that into account, my main focus right now is just maintaining my spirituality. I go to church on Sunday, and to the temple on Wednesday. I study Conference talks and the scriptures. I pray, often. (Oh, and I helped Cindy unpack today. That was fun!)

I guess the take-home message of this is when life is hard, be as good to yourself as you can. Our dearest friends are the ones who give us hugs, dry our tears, and tell us it is going to be okay, yes. But they are also the ones who tell us to go to bed, bring us real food, and remind us to pray.

We have to be good friends to ourselves, too. We're never going to exist outside of our own heads, so we might as well learn to like it in there. So try something new -- try to forgive yourself for not being such a great friend.

Then, do better.

the care and keeping of sara

2012-01-21T19:29:00.000-07:00

I've kind of slacked off in the last couple of weeks. When people ask what I'm up to, I say, "Oh, just working, taking really good care of myself..." But to tell you the truth, I really ought to be treating myself better than I have been in recent days. I caught myself casually thinking rather dismal thoughts today, and that is just not who I am meant to be.

So after work today, I am going to make bread.

That might seem pretty silly to you, but for me, it's not. The quiet, methodical nature of it, as well as the high nutritional value, makes it the perfect gesture of love for myself. I'm so excited at the idea of eating homemade wheat bread and fresh spinach. Mmmmm...

I think it's important to be excited to come home from work and hang out with...me. As an adult, I have much greater responsibilities -- and joys -- than I did in the previous twenty years of my life, and I have to be at my best in order to accomplish them. It sounds weird to say that consistantly showing myself love is an essential part of functioning at my best, but it is.

So, I make bread. I journal. I read Conference talks. I breathe deeply. I attend the temple. I stand up straight. I listen to KLOVE. I go to bed early. I do stretches.

And I tell the nagging little voice in my head that says "you're not pretty" and "you'll never change" and "you are not worth the effort" to just STUFF IT. Because I am a daughter of God.

I "no longer have the luxury of spending [my] energy on anything that does not lead [me and my family] to Christ," to borrow a line from Sherri Dew. And you know what, it feels really good to expend my energy in that way. If I make a point of being good to myself, I get double benefits: I take care of myself, and I get to be proud of myself for doing so. I am happy, which means that I have happiness to share with others.

Loving myself makes me able to build the kingdom, rather than assuming that I can't possibly have anything to share and therefore not bothering to share it.

If this is something you would like to learn more about, try any of the following resources:

"You Matter to Him," President Dieter Uchtdorf. (Really, anything by President Uchtdorf is along these lines! I think it's the theme of his ministry.)
"Living the Abundant Life," President Thomas S.Monson
Matthew 5:13-16
"Someone Worth Dying For," MikesChair
"I Am a Child of God," Mormon Messages

What do you do to show yourself love?

angry

2012-01-19T12:36:00.005-07:00

So, in popular psychology, there's a theory that there are stages to grieving: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance.

I hit stage two yesterday.

It was, overall, a wonderful day. It was my day off, so I went to the temple, then grocery shopping where I bought myself roses. Then I made dinner for my roommate and I -- tacos with homemade corn tortillas. (Yum.) Over dinner, I turned to Natalie. "I think I want to go on a date tonight. I just don't want to be by myself this evening; I want a change of scene. But I don't know who to ask."

Natalie, being the socially resourceful person that she is, suggested one of the five or so guys in the ward who have shown some tentative interest in me since I moved here. "I have his number! You can text him!" I've talked to him a few times now, and I was pretty sure he'd say yes to a game night, so I went for it.

It went off without a hitch. My date volunteered to bring some games and Natalie got ice cream and root beer on her way back from picking up her boyfriend. We had a really fun time, just playing and chatting. There was discussion of another game night, maybe a movie.

But as soon as everyone left, I sat on the couch and (finally) sobbed.

It was just so hard, watching the look on Natalie's new boyfriend's face when he put his arms around her. He's awestruck, and just trying to soak it in, that his life is this good. Chris wore that look once upon a time, but no more. Today, I am positively ferocious about that.

I really did everything I possibly could with the resources I had at my disposal. I'm sick of not being enough for people. I'm sick of not being appreciated. I'm sick of working ridiculously hard and then having so little to show for it.

It just makes me so spitting mad.

However, I am learning Christ's role in the pain. He doesn't provide the other side, the joy to counteract the hurt. Jesus Christ transcends both the joy and the hurt. His divinity remains, outside of that equation. He makes it so I can be both true to my feelings and a steadily better person. He is the place I go when I am ready to step outside of my pain and learn about much larger concerns.

I myself am nothing: I am furious and lonely and fed up. Yet, because I am a daughter of God, the worth of my soul is great: I must also be serene and faithful and stalwart. Heavenly Father expects that of me, yes, but He will be patient with me as Christ works in my life to bring me to that point again. The point where I can take a deep breath and say that I am okay, that my character has grown, that I am grateful for this hardship.

For now, however, I am angry. And, darn it, that will just have to be good enough today.

musings

2012-01-17T12:18:00.001-07:00

Do you know the difference between giving your pain to God, and hiding from your pain in Him?

I'm not sure that I do.

Another friend voiced a concern today. She believes I'm only telling myself that I cheerfully accept all of this. "It's okay to be angry, Sara," she insisted. "It's okay to feel it's all unfair and that you should win once in a while."

But...I don't find being angry terribly useful. I simply have too much to do for that. I mean that in a "my schedule is full" kind of way, yes, but also in an "I am a daughter of God with purpose and responsibility" way, too. With all we have been given, and all we are expected to accomplish, who has time to be upset?

And yet, my grief is very real. It sits in the back of my chest, sticky and suffocating, and it waits. I don't know how to handle it without it adhering to everything I have worked so hard to acquire, without it smothering the joy that is the foundation of everything I know my life to be.

But shouldn't our foundation be Christ? Not the joy that He brings?

It's a close enough fit that we can go most of our lives worshiping the joy of the gospel without much trouble. After all, it's Christ that provides the joy. But what if He stopped? What if, one day, just when we thought we were doing everything right, the joy stopped coming? Wouldn't Jesus still be the Christ?

That is what I'm struggling with today. I absolutely know that Jesus Christ is my Savior; He died for my sins and makes the impossible possible. He is the Source of all of my dearest joy.

I'm just trying to figure out His role in the pain.

clarification

2012-01-16T20:03:00.001-07:00

A dear friend of mine pointed out to me today that perhaps my previous blog post was a little misleading.

Chris and I didn't break up because he's not meeting my needs in some way. I don't think I could have asked to be treated any better than how he treated me. He's wonderful, that Chris.

It's just that...we said all along that we would do the right thing, and if the right thing for each of us overlapped, then so much the better. We just...hit a cross-roads and stopped overlapping. Honestly, I'm so proud of Chris for making this decision. I actually love and respect him more as a result of this. Which, yes, is a little hard.

Well. It's a lot hard.

But doing the right thing is often hard. That doesn't make it any less the right thing. We have to keep progressing, keep moving onward in our lives and adapting to our circumstances. We have to keep acquiring the attributes of Christ, through a combination of study and practice. That practice often comes through situations that challenge us, circumstances that are uncomfortable, heartbreak that is just a part of life.

But sometimes "blessings come through raindrops." So I will choose to be grateful to Heavenly Father for the good things -- like having dated someone who is just a solidly good person -- and to turn to Him with the things I don't like and don't understand.

I learned a lot about that in the last week. The comfort and peace of the Spirit fills up every emptiness we have, as we seek out the Spirit and make choices as guided by His influence. He "satisfies our souls in drought." We are never alone in our loneliness.

We have our God.

quiet

2012-01-14T23:06:00.000-07:00

It's ironic: the best word to describe my state of being, now that noise is allowed back in my life, is "quiet." It's a deep contentment, a peaceful watchfulness. I'm loving it.

My scope for radio silence was so small at the outset, compared to where it ended up. "Father in Heaven, will Chris and I just be wasting our time if we keep dating?" I really grappled with that question. Each day, I had new tears and a different opinion, and each day, I deeply questioned any peace I thought I'd found. There just seemed to be so much static, so much information to try to work with and reconcile. Then, on Wednesday, I had a new thought.

And it changed everything.

The fact of the matter is, no matter what situation I am in, I have a responsibility to be as Christlike as possible. I realized that the troubling situation Chris and I were in, the one that lead me to this week's question, was partially my fault.

For years, I've had an underlying belief that is so completely false. Regardless, I've believed it, and lived by it, and I think it's undermined every dating experience I've ever had. The gist? That I have to give love unconditionally in order to receive any love at all.

The biggest repercussion of this idea, for me at least, is that I've accepted worse treatment than I deserve (to varying degrees.) I've loved with an element of desperation. I've lived beneath my privileges. I've been insecure. In short, I have not been as Christlike as I ought to be.

But no more. I get to be a different person now, even though all I asked for was help in figuring out my relationship status. God is so good. This new insight has taken so much of the urgency out of my approach to dating, and replaced it with a sense of peace. I wasn't sure that would ever happen...but I have finally made significant progress.

When I talked to Chris today, I offered to keep trying, because maybe this realization was what needed to change for us. In the end, he declined, citing that he felt he needed to make his own changes, too, and do some experimenting of his own -- and that couldn't happen while he was in a relationship.

That's okay. Chris and I might not be dating anymore, but I am better for this experience, and I think that's the best we can ask from our relationships anyway. I've gained so much knowledge in the last week -- the last 6 months -- and I'm excited to use it.

Grateful to use it, in fact.

Life is good.

radio silence

2012-01-08T01:07:00.001-07:00

It seems a little counter-intuitive, taking my already socially-deprived life and making it a little more so.

Yet, here I am, announcing to you that I will be taking a week of what is fondly known, in my head at least, as "radio silence."

This initially started as a television reference, but given the soothing, if not holy nature the term has taken on thanks to my dear friend Cindy, it now has little to do with Sydney Bristow or the CIA.

I'm incredibly blessed with the people in my life. Cindy is only the beginning; I've had a long, nearly unbroken series of wonderful roommates. I have numerous dear friends. My family adores me. To tell you the truth, I don't know of anyone who flat out doesn't like me.

And yet, this isn't enough. I need to sit down and have a long talk. Not with my best girl friends, not with my parents, but rather my Heavenly Father. I need to go to Him and be ready to listen, closely, for the specifics I need. I need to quiet the din of my emotions and philosophies so I can know what He would have me to do. I need to know that His plan for me is the only one that will make my life as truly happy as it can be.

So in order to acquire that, I will be tuning out of electronics for the week. No facebook, no blogging, no e-mail, no phone. Nada. It's just me and God this week. I'm a little nervous, I'm not gonna lie. But I need this.

And whatever you are going through right now, I promise you that you, too, can have the same clarity I am currently seeking. Ask for it, believing you will get it, and the answers will come.

I promise you that.

eating cheaply: sample grocery list

2012-01-06T23:12:00.000-07:00

I spent $19.32 at the store yesterday, and man do I feel cool. This will actually feed me for some time.

Brown rice -- This was partially to help out my waterlogged phone, but mostly because I realized I had NO rice on hand, and that just felt a little strange to me.

Powdered milk -- I mostly just use milk in cooking, rather than for drinking, so I realized it doesn't much matter how it tastes! It's cheaper than buying the real stuff.

Canned tuna -- I didn't buy chicken this week like I'd planned. I just couldn't justify spending the money on a pricey protein source when I have a whole bag of dried beans sitting in my pantry. This was my compromise. Expect forthcoming posts on how I use the beans!

Medium cheddar -- This is mostly to go along with all of the Mexican food I will be eating this week, since I've been looking up what to do with my dried black beans, not to mention the plethora of salsa I inherited. (Thank you, Sam!) EDIT: Except how I've brought cheese and crackers to work two days in a row. I think it's time to do some real cooking.

Grapes -- Last grocery trip I bought apples, bananas, and oranges. I try to have variety in my produce to maximize the range of nutrition, plus grapes just sounded good. This is my treat this week.

Grapefruit -- Again, this provides a little variety in my produce. Two interesting tidbits though...apparently when you buy citrus fruits, you want to pick the ones that feel a little heavy for their size. This usually means that they are juicier and sweeter, I think.

(Also, for a super yummy breakfast or snack, slice grapefruit into circles and sprinkle brown sugar on each one. Put them on a cookie sheet and stick them under the broiler until the peel starts to darken. Eat. Wish you could justify eating another one. Eat another one anyway, justification be darned.)

Acorn squash -- I also try to buy my produce in season. Winter obviously is a little tricky, but winter squashes (you know, with a big, thick rind) fit the bill. I've never had acorn squash before, but I like the other kinds I've tried. So I'm excited to see what kind of distinction there is, aside from the obvious difference in shape.

Cabbage -- Okay, I confess, I have never bought a cabbage before in my life. I have no idea what to do with it, but it's super cheap and it's a vegetable, so I'm excited to find out.

Eggs -- Well...anyone who has seen my Facebook already knows how I feel about these, but there it is again for good measure.

They may want to refigerate their spelling, because I figer that ain't right.

. My snark springs eternal, apparently.

yeah, that really just happened

2012-01-06T01:22:00.001-07:00

I dropped my cell phone in a glass of water yesterday.

Go ahead and laugh -- I sure did.

I mean, I cried too, but laughter was my immediate reaction.

The scene of the crime

This picture is quite typical of the space next to my bed. I don't have a nightstand, so things tend to end up in this spot, especially my cell phone. It's my alarm clock, after all, as well as my connection to the outside world.

Wednesdays are my day off, so I'm not sucking down water at my desk all day. Hence, a cup ends up taking up residence there about once a week. (It might be more often if my tap water wasn't so icky.)

These two factors combined for disaster. My cup sat, forgotten, on the floor -- forgotten because it's not ordinarily there. My cell phone and I had a falling out (mostly because it wasn't ringing) and so in a fit of independence, I dropped it on the floor.

Or so I thought. It makes quite a different sound when you drop it directly into a cup of water.

So, alas, I am without a phone for a little while. Sure makes a funny story though...

it was the best of times; it was the worst of times

2012-01-04T22:04:00.000-07:00

I've been thinking a lot about paradoxes lately, statements that are contradictory, but true.

I attribute it in part to President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, from this talk in General Conference. In it, he points out two scriptures, namely "man is nothing" and "the worth of souls is great in the sight of God." He testifies the truth of both, despite their contradiction. President Uchtdorf states, "The great deceiver knows that one of his most effective tools in leading the children of God astray is to appeal to the extremes of the paradox of man."

This stuck in my mind. I am so wary of complacency because (to use a metaphor) as soon as you forget how indebted you are, you stop being concerned with paying off the debt. I am constantly trying to be a better person, and I think that's a good thing.

President Uchtdorf's statement, however, helped me to see that I was going too far. Satan loves to target my feelings of inadequacy so that I don't recognize the opposing truth...that I am an eternal daughter of Heavenly Father. I am a princess, with all of the prestige and responsibility that comes with that appellation. I have a work to do, and a great one at that.

Since that realization, I have been alert to other paradoxes in my life. And today, I hit on one in particular.

I can be both gentle AND passionate.

It is my birthright and responsibility as a daughter of God to be gentle. (Plus, I'm pretty sure it makes me a more enjoyable girlfriend.) Christ was meek, mild, temperate. And I want to be like Him. I can be like Him. In my best moments, I am like Him.

On the other hand, I am a passionate, enthusiastic person by nature. I care about things, and I care a lot! I get emotionally involved very quickly, and my fervor can certainly be a major contribution to my peer groups and communities.

These traits, in my mind at least, are contradictory. How can I be purposeful, yet peaceful? Daring, but dignified? Sparkling, but soothing?

To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure. I do know, however, that by resting too heavily on either extreme, Satan catches me up in a riptide of good intentions. When I try too hard to be gentle, it manifests itself in fear and hesitation. When I recklessly manifest passion, I find no rest, no peace. And fear or exhaustion will do equally well for Satan.

On the other hand, if I acknowledge the necessity of both and steer clear of the extremes, I can be fearless and peaceful-- faithful. I can provide refuge and inspiration-- encouragement. I will be neither frenetic nor benign-- I will be warm.

That's who I really am, you know.

The past few months have been the best of times and the worst of times, but if Heavenly Father is teaching me lessons like that...is it really so bad at all?

best of 2011 excerpts

2011-12-31T20:02:00.000-07:00

Here's a sampling of my "Best of 2011" list.

Getting taken care of by a group of the nicest women you will ever meet. Who knew you could be so blessed working at a medical supply store?
The Durham YSA ward. Healing up from a broken heart, meeting Danielle, Rachel, and Tom, getting to be pals with Sariah again. Learning about what it means to have a Spirit-filled home.
Developing a closer relationship with my mom.
Singing along to American Pie with Chris on the way to go see fireworks; spending the next three hours getting to know him.
Slow dancing in the kitchen with Chris to Breathing, by Lifehouse during that first week we started dating.
That first kiss after 5 weeks of long-distance dating.
Many long talks with Rachel and Cindy.
Getting a bed for Christmas from an anonymous donor.

And, it's funny...I made a Worst Of list too, but the longer I look at it, the more I realize that each one could be on my Best Of list, too. It's true, I did not enjoy the first four months of the year, between heartbreak and the feeling that I was just spinning my wheels, but so much good has come because of it. I know so much more about myself and I have such a healthier concept of relationships. I better know what mistakes I am prone to, and I ALSO know that the Lord and I are capable of getting around them. That is so exciting to me.

I know that sometimes my family situation really makes me nervous about the kind of family I will have in the future. However, I've learned this year that man, my family is pretty great. We're all largely functional people, and those of us who aren't functional still do our best to be charming people. I like my family. And I like that I like my family. All things considered, it's not that hard to do. They're good people.

The challenge I am currently facing -- being poor and more dependent on the kindness of others than I ever thought I would have to be -- isn't much fun either. But I know the Lord wouldn't ask me to do it unless it was for the powerful and lasting development of my character. Because of this time in my life, I have a better understanding and appreciation of the Atonement. I'm pretty sure I'm going to be a better wife and mother as a result of it, too. I'll be better able to be a stay-at-home mom, and accept the generosity of my husband which that inherently requires, and I'll be better able to manage the finances of my future home because I have to be so conscious about it now.

Honestly, that's a lot of blessings, even if they have come from really hard things. I can't say I'd like to do it over again, but I'm sure grateful for the good things I've gotten out of it.

And, of course, I'm getting rich blessings out of hard situations currently, and I am tremendously grateful for those lessons. I'm also grateful that life isn't any harder than it currently is.

merry christmas to all, and to all a good night

2011-12-25T23:12:00.001-07:00

I had a lovely, wonderful Christmas with my dear friend Sam. We talked like only girls who have known each other for years can, and listened to music, and ate tuscan pasta. She spent the night on my air mattress, and I slept on my new bed!

It's so pink, and happy, and, and, and, FREE!

In the morning, we had eggs and hashbrowns and bacon, and we made cinnamon rolls. They almost turned out tragically awful, though. You see, I buy as much of my food as I can from the bulk section, because it's cheaper, and that includes my spices. Cinnamon, nutmeg, and cloves are very easy to confuse in the bag, however. Therefore, if "clove rolls" sound good to you, I have some filling that I would be HAPPY to let you use.

Can you tell which is which?

...Don't worry too much though. We had a good laugh and mixed up a new batch of filling, and they turned out gooooooood.

Not to mention they were awfully pretty, too.

While the cinnamon rolls were baking, I opened presents. My family got me a cute Pandora-esque bracelet, and NEW SCRIPTURES!!!! And Sam, the wonderful, sweet, thoughtful person that she is, bought me matchy flannel PJs, plus shampoo, conditioner, face wash, and hot chocolate. Not to mention that she insisted I keep all of groceries she contributed to our little fiesta. I am grateful for that girl.

The cute little tree one of my roommates put in the living room. I couldn't resist putting my presents underneath!

We went to my ward for sacrament meeting after we sampled our cinnamon rolls. My bishopric + the executive secretary sang a gorgeous quartet, and the congregation sang "I Believe in Christ," which especially touched me today...

Today's journal entry.

I came away from sacrament meeting with a new commitment to love the Lord and live according to His will. I know that Jesus Christ is my Savior, and every good thing in my life I owe to Him. He plants me firmly in the gospel; He is the source of joy, even in our fallen world; He is my Redeemer and Friend.

When we got home, Sam and I ate more cinnamon rolls and read Luke 2 and talked a little about Mary. Her testimony in the Plan of Salvation must have been so strong in order to joyfully accept that kind of responsibility. I also noticed today that Mary "pondered these things in her heart," instead of blabbing them to anyone and everyone. Personally, I'm much more of the blabbing type, but I'm learning greater respect for holy things in preparation for the responsibilities the Lord is putting in my life. We are called to a holy work, brothers and sisters. I testify of that.

After scripture reading, we took a little nap, partly because Sam has been hiccuping for a DAY STRAIGHT, and it had given her a headache! While she rested, I cleaned the kitchen and started dinner. Sam came to help later, and let me tell you, it is so much more fun cooking a holiday meal when you have someone around who will just jump in and take initiative. I'm learning to delegate, but cooking can be hard enough without adding the task of managing other people, too. Cooking with Sam was fun though - I'm grateful for her willingness to help without being asked.

Sam was amazed how well our first Christmas away from our families went. I admit, we're pretty fantastic.

I highly recommend putting green beans, bacon, and pepper together, by the way. It was probably my favorite part of the meal. Except, perhaps, the scrumptious green salad that Sam made. There's a ton of leftovers of that, and let me tell you, friends, my vitamin-deprived little body is sooo excited. Say no to scurvy, kids.

Following dinner, we of course cleaned up, and then talked some more while I made bread and Sam played Sudoku on her new iPad. I admire that she finds ways to make herself busy and content while still being available at a moment's notice to the people around her. I want to be a little more like that.

At about 9 o'clock, it was time for Sam to go home. We put her stuff in her truck, and she drove away.

It was so satisfying, spending time with an old friend, after a month of spending time either by myself or with people I haven't known for very long. Don't get me wrong, I love the people who are new to my life too, but I think I will be able to interact with greater peace of mind now that I've been reminded that there are people who are very different from me, but still really value my blunt yet affectionate ways.

Basically, this is who God created me to be, and this is the life that He and I have created together.

And, you know, it's pretty amazing.

Merry Christmas, y'all.

just how incredibly blessed I really am

2011-12-23T11:52:00.005-07:00

My room is a great place to be.

The closet is the perfect size for me, especially since there's a built-in chest of drawers and a bookshelf. The sliding door was falling off, but since it's a mirror, that was fine; I just moved it to a corner of the room and put my makeup/hair box next to it.

And then there's the bed. Cue story time...

My house is fully furnished aside from the bedrooms, which meant that when I moved in, I didn't have a bed. I slept on the couch for about a week while I tried to figure out the best solution. In the end, I purchased an air mattress, despite wishing I could be a little more "settled," and feeling like a real bed would certainly help with that feeling.

I discovered, however, that air mattresses don't hold heat the same way a regular mattress does, so I kept getting cold at night. I mentioned it in passing to my roommate Natalie (not to be confused with one of my bffs Natalie, who was my roommate the latter half of college.) She offered to let me borrow the extra blankets that she keeps in her room. This was a blessing all on its own; I slept much better after that.

Last night, though, things got even better.

Natalie's family doesn't live very far away at all, so she's been sleeping at her parents' house this week as part of their Christmas festivities. She dropped in for a few minutes and found me in the kitchen, perched on a barstool and blogging about how I think the Lord needs me to keep accepting charity from other people during this season of my life.

"Sara," she said, "the Lord works in mysterious ways."

"Yes, yes He does! Tell me what happened." We like to tell each other these kinds of stories.

But Natalie slowly shook her head. "Somebody is giving you a bed, Sara. It's in the back of the truck right now. We just need your help bringing it in."

I confess, I stared. Then I slapped my hands to my face. "Wait, WHAT? Tell me the story!"

But there wasn't really a story to tell. Someone was anonymously donating a mattress, box spring, sheet set, and comforter set to me. ME. As in, this is my real life, where people are that generous and God loves me that much.

So we brought it in, and I'm pretty sure I stammered a lot and made a lot of weird I'm-not-gonna-cry faces. I gave Natalie and her mom a hug, and watched them leave.

And then I burst into tears.

I'm not gonna lie, people, parts of my life are really hard right now. I've never been in a financial situation like this. I'm doing my best to be independent and take care of myself, but having to buy only bare essentials can be pretty scary for someone who has always lived in so much comfort. And as mentioned yesterday, the worst part about it is that it really limits how much giving I can do.

But this experience yesterday...it was like my sacrifice had been found acceptable by the Lord. The susurration and crinkle of brand new sheets, the distantly familiar creak of a real mattress...it was a message from the Lord. Although it's a simple fact that these difficulties are not going to go away for a while, Heavenly Father knows how hard I am trying. Both to make this situation work in a temporal, logistical sense, and also to become a better person via this experience. He sees the sacrifice, and to Him, that is enough.

Whoever it was that was an instrument in His hands yesterday (including Natalie and her mom!) ... I don't know what else to say but thank you. I so appreciate that you would listen to the Spirit and reallocate some of your resources in order to help me when I have little. I pray, so fervently, that you will be blessed for your generosity. Thank you for your part in giving me Christmas.

Thank you for, in part, giving me Christ.

my new house

2011-12-23T00:22:00.000-07:00

Welcome to my house! First stop, living room...

The couches are super comfortable. I would know; I was sleeping on them for about a week because my air mattress doesn't hold heat like a normal mattress does, and I didn't have enough blankets to make up for it. But then my roommate Natalie offered to let me borrow the 2 blankets she wasn't using, and now I happily sleep on my bed and no one feels guilty for walking through the living room in the morning while I'm asleep.

Past the living room we have the kitchen...

The first thing I did when I moved in was clean it. There were piles of dishes even though everyone was gone for Thanksgiving, including a pot on the stove, happily growing MOLD. Since then I've tried to keep it nice for everyone -- I think I have a thing for nice kitchens now -- and my roommates are all tremendously grateful. I like that I get the opportunity to do service.

Down the hall we have the bathroom...

Yes, that's a pair of giant lips on the floor! The decor in there is awful, since it's a mix of pinks with this brownish-yellowish vanity and shower. We're trying to remedy the aesthetics as soon as possible, but in the meantime I'm just grateful it's clean. Jennifer, the roommate who is newer than I am, cleaned it as soon as she moved in, much like I did with the kitchen. I had cleaned half of it, and thought another roommate was going to do the other half, but she has been sick and busy, so I was grateful that Jennifer took the initiative. Especially because I'm not a huge fan of cleaning the bathroom myself!

At the end of the hall is my room...which, as of last night, warrants a post of its very own.

a different kind of service

2011-12-22T20:07:00.000-07:00

Blame it on the time of year, but I've been thinking a lot about 2011 this week.

I was pulled so taut the first couple of months, clinging to something I thought was right. I was determined to stick with it no matter how hard or ridiculous it was. It may be the closest I've ever come to a nervous breakdown, or for that matter, to taking myself to a psychiatrist. In that time, I allowed myself to focus so tightly on the situation at hand that I nearly lost sight of...everything else.

The second quarter was almost a relief after that. I finally snapped; the something I was clinging onto officially failed. The only thing left to do was pick up the pieces, which in retrospect was surprisingly easy given the vast number of blessings in my life. I re-collected my resources, all the things I'd lost sight of while I was focusing so much. I called old friends and begged for reassurance and talked my way through some of the issues I was facing. I made new friends who let me cry on their shoulders and sleep on their couches and absorb their love and spirit. I tried to acclimate to a quiet life after the intensity of college, where I worked at a job without prestige and questioned my contributions to the world in general.

Just as I was getting good at life again, just as I re-learned to love myself despite anyone else, and to rely on the Lord for my wellbeing, I met Chris. It blows my mind how much anxiety I've had through adulthood about dating. I wish I could have sat myself down and told myself about Chris. "It will be worth the wait," I would have said. "You'll have an experience that will show you how good it can be. In the meantime, just love being with your friends and learn about God. That's all you need to do."

The last quarter began with a move across the country. This was definitely the right thing to do, and I have been surrounded by God's love and that of my friends, but I'm still not sure I totally have my feet underneath me again after that. Maybe that's because I'm living paycheck to paycheck now, and I've never done that before. Maybe it's because I haven't really made friends here yet -- my roommates are seldom home, and most of my ward's activities are when I'm still at work. Maybe it's the combination of the two making me feel like I don't have a lot to offer.

That said, I told Chris (in the first real conversation we ever had!) that I have reached a point in my life where I HAVE to learn to accept help from other people, because I am no longer in a position to give very much of it.

I took this to the Lord today, and got an answer. (Thank you Brother Kern, and BYU-Idaho podcast. And thank you, Heavenly Father, for frequently giving me such prompt answers! I think it's because He knows I'd freak out and do something crazy otherwise.)

One of God's most precious promises is that nothing ever stays the same. Eventually, even if it's 80 years from now, that I will have the opportunities to serve in all of the ways that are dearest to my heart. My task right now is not to throw dinner parties or go visit friends. I simply do not have the resources to do so, and that makes me sad:

"O that I were an angel, and could have the wish of mine heart! ...but behold, I do sin in my wish."

I sin in my wish because I lose sight of the resources I do have to serve Heavenly Father. I have a lot of time on my hands, which I can use to keep my house clean for my roommates. I also use my free time to do my part to be financially independent, whether it's through doing a little extra freelance work or figuring out how to live even more cheaply.

As part of who I am and what I love, I have a plenitude of words. So, I can make phone calls; I can leave notes. I can (gradually) make friends and thereby uplift them using my willingness to talk to new people. "Ye are the light of the world..."

And, perhaps most importantly, I have the Lord. I know Heavenly Father is proud of how hard I'm trying, and honors my willingness to serve even as He is patient with me while I figure out how He wants me to do that these days. Because I have the gospel, I can fulfill my calling as a Sunday School teacher, indexer, and visiting teacher in the way that He wants me to. Because I have the gospel, and try to live my life in a way that invites the Spirit, I hope that when people come in contact with me, they will be a little more conscious of God and how precious they are to Him. Because I have the gospel, I can continue to grow more like Christ. I can learn charity without neediness, hard work without resentment, and good cheer without ideal situations.

I can do my best.

Perhaps that's what this year has taught me the most. My best really is good enough. God really does love me, even with all of my imperfections. He also has a great purpose for me, and although I am not able to see the end now, I can have perfect knowledge that this moment, this one right here, is just one necessary step along the way.

eating cheaply: tamale casserole

2011-12-21T17:44:00.000-07:00

GUYS! GUESS WHAT! I made up a recipe, AND IT WAS SO YUMMY!!!!

Winnnnnnnnnn.

Sara's Tamale Casserole
makes 4 servings

1 T vegetable oil
1/2 medium onion, diced
1 clove garlic, peeled and chopped
1 medium tomato, diced
1 t salt
1 t pepper
1 can black beans, rinsed
1 tsp lemon juice
1 cup masa harina
1 3/4 cup water
1 1/2 cup cheddar cheese, shredded
1 cup salsa

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Coat medium-sized glass casserole dish (a 9x9 is a little big -- a pie pan or loaf pan would probably work great.)
Heat oil, then add onion, garlic, tomato, 1/2 t of salt and pepper. Saute until onions are tender, stirring frequently.
Add beans and lemon juice to onion mixture.
In a separate bowl, mix masa, water 1/2 t salt, and 3/4 cup of cheddar cheese.
Pour 1/2 of the bean mixture into the glass dish, then spread 1/2 of the masa dough over top. Repeat.
Top with the rest of the cheese and the salsa.
Bake for 45 minutes, then take it out and let it sit for 5 minutes. Serve with a pretty green salad and you've got yourself a meal! A tasty, relatively cheap one, at that.

Notes:
-You could probably substitute the masa and water for corn muffin batter, which would give this dish a sweeter flavor.
-Much of the flavor comes from the salsa you pour over top at the end, so next time I make it, I'd like to mix in some peppers and canned corn with the onion. That and I'm kind of a vegetable junkie. Also, cilantro and chili powder would have probably provided more flavor and required less salt, but alas, I did not have them.

Edit: It's just as good as leftovers. If not better. Yessssssssssssssssss....
Second edit: It also freezes well.

bucket list, revisited

2011-12-20T13:19:00.002-07:00

"We can focus on the fun things we could have done but didn’t, or we can do something fun right now.

"We can dwell on the mistakes we made in past relationships, or we can focus on enjoying the relationships we’re in right now.

"We can think about all the opportunities we missed out on, or we can focus on embracing possibilities right now.

"There will always be something we didn’t do yesterday, but we get to choose right now how yesterday looks when we get to tomorrow. Right now, whatever age we are, this is our chance to live.

-Tiny Buddha

In March of 2008, I wrote a bucket list.

1. Fall in love.

2. Travel.

3. Learn.

4. Write.

5. Be beautiful.

And...to varying degrees...I've done them all.

Falling in love wasn't all it's cracked up to be, but it taught me a lot and I know better what to do in order to be a happy and fulfilled person. Namely, that you always have to love God more than anyone else, including yourself.

I traveled to the UK and Paris last year, and it was the experience of a lifetime. If I never travel again, I will still say that I adore traveling and that if you want to go, just GO. I hope to travel more -- back to Paris, of course, but also to so many more places. Germany, Italy, Spain, Brazil, Australia, and somewhere in Africa would be incredible, for instance.

Learning is so much a part of my life. I've finished my degree now, and eventually I will go on to higher education. I'm learning to be patient about that, though, and learning the difference between "no" and "not now." I'm learning to play sports, to cook, to communicate honestly. I think a love of learning implies a divine discontent with who and where we are today, which is a pretty accurate description of how I try to live my life.

Once, I thought being a writer meant that you had to spout fiction out of your fingertips every day for an hour at a time. That's certainly one kind of writing, but very rarely the kind I do. Instead, I journal, I blog for myself, and I professionally freelance write. There are still stories swimming around in my head, but most days I am just focused on other things.

For this last one, I'm going to directly quote what I said about this the last time:

"I want to be satisfied with who I am as God created me, with the humility to change and the courage to stand firm. I want to be happy with how my life has turned out, where I'm heading, and what I'm doing in the meantime to prepare for that. I want a beautiful life, full of love and adventure (even on just a small scale) and learning and God, and I want that beauty to come out in who I am."

Amen, me of almost 3 years ago. Amen.

eating cheaply: pot pies

2011-12-18T19:17:00.001-07:00

So, I made pot pies tonight.

They're quite edible, but...but....they're just a little bit...well...odd. I was expecting that, though, seeing as I just threw together things that I had in the house already. The sweet potato has just too much flavor, so it doesn't combine well with the broccoli and canned chicken. (Heh heh. "Does not play well with others.")

So the next time I try this, I'll use regular potatoes for sure. Which kind of makes me feel like I just reinvented the wheel, but hey, I learned a couple of things in the process:

1. I KNOW HOW TO MAKE GRAVY. Well, mostly. See, my dad could make perfect gravy with his eyes shut, but me? every time I've tried it, I've concocted a culinary travesty. However, I've finally figured out a way to make the consistency work, and I think I can figure out the flavor with a few more trial runs. HOORAY!

2. As weird as it sounds at first, broccoli is AMAZING with a little onion, a pinch of nutmeg, a splash of vinegar and a generous squirt of honey. It's tangy and sweet and fun, especially if you don't overcook the broccoli. Which I didn't. Go me.

3. Pies made in muffin tins are a fabulous idea. Fabulous! I'm such a fan of serving sizes built into the presentation.

4. Even when you don't think you need to have milk and butter on hand...you do. Just buy it.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go ~~rescue my kitchen from the hostile alien invasion~~ clean up the mess I made.

ten things that make me happy today

2011-12-17T17:52:00.001-07:00

The right sleeve of "my" jacket smells like Chris from holding his hand this morning when I drove him to the airport.
"My" is in quotes because technically, the jacket belongs to Chris.
During my 15 minute break at work, I run up and down the stairs and then do stretches in my cubicle.
I get to eavesdrop on people's conversations for a living. (You'd have to be a writer to understand the joy of this one, I think.)
I get to knit while I'm on calls and in between calls, I can write for my freelance job(s).
One of my roommates called me a "clean freak" the other day.
I'm starting to be just a little less needy.
Sam is coming to see me for Christmas, so I won't be all by myself.
I'm teaching Sunday School tomorrow.
I finally have an income again, so I can finally pay tithing. YAY.

eating cheaply: grocery shopping

2011-12-17T00:47:00.000-07:00

I finally (FINALLYYYY) went grocery shopping today.

$4.52 on health and beauty.

$4.74 on produce.

$4.91 on protein.

$5.26 on spices/condiments.

$10.03 on kitchen supplies. (Trash bags and a rolling pin, in this case.)

I feel really good about this. I also think it will be a little less expensive when I have a good stash of spices and condiments built up.

Two biggest things I'm excited about? Fresh produce (YAY!) and the dinners I'll be making.

Pot pies -- homemade pie crust, canned chicken, sweet potato, cali mix vegetables.
Lemon pasta -- homemade pasta, lemon juice, parmesan cheese, olive oil, basil, evaporated milk
Stir fry -- raman, cali mix frozen vegetables, soy sauce, eggs.
Tamale casserole (of sorts) -- masa, cheddar cheese, turkey stock, onion, chicken, beans, tomato, salsa

Yes, the pot pies and casserole are experimental, but they use primarily things I already have on hand. And "already on hand" means cheap! Hard to argue with that.

eating cheaply: introduction

2011-12-12T23:58:00.000-07:00

So, I don't know if you know this, but I'm poor.

It could be worse, of course. I am not living out of a cardboard box or eating Raman three meals a day. I am, however, learning to budget very carefully and eat very cheaply.

I think a big part of eating cheaply is to make the most of what you already have in your cupboard. Here's my list, a lot of which is left over from things I bought to make Thanksgiving dinner:

1/2 pound cheddar cheese
1 cup pecans
1/2 loaf homemade wheat bread (yum)
1 yam
2/3 pound masa
2.5 sleeves saltines
2/3 bag frozen California blend vegetables
1 bag frozen brussel sprouts
honey
olive oil
garlic
2.5 cups homemade turkey stock

From this list, I will eat for 14 meals. To supplement this list (and therefore eat 3 meals a day for a week), I'm going to purchase the following:

brown rice
dried beans
eggs
tomato (probably canned, but it depends on how cheap the fresh ones are)
lime juice
chili powder

This week is going to be kind of a Mexican-themed week, what with the masa, rice, and beans. It's also going to be a "do creative things with frozen vegetables" week. The plan is to post the best stuff I come up with. This should be exciting...

life update!

2011-11-14T10:12:00.001-07:00

"It's all so interesting. Which maybe you're thinking is an anticlimax, but in that case I feel sorry for you because that just means you don't really know about interesting. Interesting is as good as it gets." --Robin McKinley

I've received an official request to update everyone on my beautifully chaotic life...so here it goes!

I'm in Provo right now, sitting in my boyfriend's FHE sisters apartment. For the record, I. Love. These. Girls! They are so sweet and I really appreciate their generosity. I'll be sleeping on their couch for a while, and as soon as I can afford it, I'm getting my very own apartment.! I've been staying with Cindy in Rexburg for the last several weeks, and that has been so fun and so very helpful. There's a reason I've been friends with this girl for 10 years...she's wise and funny and giving and I just love her. I've also loved seeing Natalie and Allison and as soon as I get a couple of paychecks under my belt, I'm sure I'll be back up there to visit.

Things are still great with Chris and I. I've missed seeing him every day, so it's been really, really nice to be in Provo so much. Sometimes I'm struck by how lucky I am to be dating him. He actively seeks out my opinions and humors my craziness and tries to be a little better every day. He is working so hard in his classes, not to mention figuring out grad school. And, of course, he's also busy spending time with me! We had fun weekend, shopping for clothes (and board games!) and attending stake conference and hanging out with his roommates. I'm sure grateful for that man.

As of this week I have not one but two jobs. I'm working freelance as a blogger, which in my case means I get to write just about anything having to do with cars. My posts will be here, but before I'm officially hired and can start uploading articles, I need to get some paperwork filled out That is harder than it sounds as I need a printer or scanner and have neither one. (Angst!) However, as soon as I get that done, I'll be paid by the word and can write a 700 word article every day, if I want. Yay, income!

The other job is for Sorenson Communications, located in Taylorsville. They specialize in technology and services for the hearing impaired. For example, you can call someone who is hard of hearing, and they have a special phone with a screen that will show the words you're saying. I'll be trained to very clearly repeat what you say as you say it, so that the voice recognition software picks up the words correctly and can display them on the screen. The simple version is that I caption phone calls for hard-of-hearing people. I start the Monday after Thanksgiving, assuming I pass my drug test and background check. Pretty fair assumption if you ask me! I train for a couple of weeks on the software and then will be working 30 hours a week. Yes, it's part time, but supplemented by the freelance thing, I should be okay.

That said, I interviewed with another job on Friday, and I should hear back from them by Wednesday. This one is full time and directly related to my degree, yet it's in Ogden and probably requires more commitment. So if I get it, awesome, but if not, that's OK too. We will just have to see.

You know... we all know by this point that our lives are never going to be easy. However, they can certainly be challenging and rewarding and just so good. Yes, I do have a lot of things to figure out, and yes, I do have a lot of sacrifices to make. But the Lord is teaching me to build His kingdom, and be what He is.

What more can I ask for than that? :)

tender mercies

2011-10-17T23:01:00.000-06:00

It has been a rather frustrating day, but I think in general conference someone said something to the effect of "face each day with enthusiasm, no matter how it looks" and I'm trying to apply that principle.

The optimistic version of my day is that I spent the first part of the morning reading this lovely pre-World War II book that is very sweet and inspiring. Then I ran an errand, had hot chocolate and pumpkin bread with Cindy, looked for jobs, did laundry. Pretty basic stuff, and good in its own way, but really not at all what I had planned.

What I'd planned is to donate plasma. I haven't found a job yet, and it just seemed like a reasonable way to make a little extra money in the interim. It seemed like the responsible thing to do, frankly. But through a silly little chain of events, it didn't happen today.

As I drove away from the plasma center, sans needle prick, I wanted to cry. I don't understand, I thought. I'm trying to take good care of myself, to put forth the work that I need to in order to care for my temporal well-being. But I can't even donate plasma. Why is this happening?

It didn't get better after I went home and found that I still couldn't get the application to work (for a job I'd really really like!) And then I had an epic battle of wits with an inanimate object, for a frustrating hour and a half.

But the Lord still finds ways to add sunshine to our lives. Cindy came home from the library and made hot chocolate, which was happy-in-a-mug. Later, Allison picked me up and we had our own little FHE, and it was wonderful.

I'm grateful for tender mercies.

mexican cooking, lesson one: tortillas

2011-10-11T16:39:00.000-06:00

When Cindy and I finally decided that I would be staying with her for a little while, I asked her to teach me how to make Mexican food. Her dad spent two years doing service and proselyting in Mexico, and he brought back lots of new skills with him -- the least of which is not cooking fairly authentic Mexican deliciousness...

So, Cindy taught me how to make tortillas!

First, get some masa:

(What we call masa in the States is actually a certain kind of corn flour, rather than the paste called "masa" you'd buy in a Latin American country.)

Then, add some water:

(This one won't be very helpful to you, considering Cindy didn't measure and let me poke at the dough a bit to see what the consistency was like. Watch out on her blog...she'll be posting specifics there soon, I'm sure.)

We used a tortilla press (!!) and a griddle, but in the future I think I'll just be using a regular ol' rolling pin and non-stick skillet. The non-stick part is important since apparently frying them in oil would make them tostadas, not tortillas.

They don't have to be browned or anything, just warmed and flipped and warmed a little more. And by the way, they are delicious.

I may never eat store-bought tortillas ever again.

love, tolerance, and understanding

2011-10-11T12:49:00.000-06:00

I've discovered a new mantra for relationships:

I love you! I just don't understand...

Sometimes the people I care about are too busy to pay attention to me. Sometimes they make the same mistakes over and over and over. Sometimes they address situations in completely different ways than I would. However, this doesn't excuse me from forgiveness, tolerance, or charity.

The thing is, it also doesn't excuse me from being human and finding other people difficult to comprehend. I can choose how I respond to difficulties though, and when I'm fighting with someone, it's okay to call a time-out and give them a hug.

Because it's not about changing them. It's about understanding them a little better, and about me making changes in order to become more Christlike. Maybe that's becoming more temperate, more confident, or a better listener.

That's why these people are in our lives, guys. Their presence is an invitation to charity -- to not just understand them better, but to understand the Lord better. We can always find strength and solace in Him, even if we aren't getting it from the sources we expect.

Other people may not always be reliable, but in Christ, we can become reliably like Him.

unabashed devotion

2011-10-10T14:21:00.001-06:00

Sometimes I wish I could be the girl I was at 17. I can still see my bedroom, definitively mine as the walls were papered with favorite scriptures, quotes, and pictures -- anything I found soothing, really. I was sheltered there, from everyone, from a future that was much more like straw to be turned to gold than anything. There, I found fearlessness. Not that I lived a life without fear, but just that there were much more important things to think about, and with the importance came the joy.

Now and then I still have that; I remember that those days were the beginning of my testimony, not the extent of it. Those days were good not because they were easy, but because I unabashedly fled to the Lord for solace. I didn't expect Him to fix things, just to help me be okay, and to respond to my life as He would.

I think it's time I devoted my life to that again -- to taking every inquietude to the Lord, without shame. He can do so much more with them than I can. When my heart cries out, "Wait, what? Is that really what you have in mind for me? Are you sure You want to make my life that hard??" my Heavenly Father can say, "well, yes, but remember the blessings you have in store, my child, and remember what the pain has turned you into." It's turned me into someone who can know peace, despite anyone else's choices. (I just wish I remembered that more often.)

The joy of earthly relationships is undeniable, but neither is the heartbreak. So, they function as a means to an end as they turn us to Christ. As a teenager, Christ and I became acquainted because there were people in my life that I had to be okay with. In more recent years, I clung to Christ despite the dead-end relationships in which I insisted on entangling myself. Now, I'd like to know Him better and love Him more as I try to be more me -- more the girl He's counting on to do His work. Whatever that work may be.

As previously mentioned, I think that work right now may in part be giving up my "Isaac"...to just enjoy serving in small ways, to take copious mental notes (and some literal ones) on how to create a Christ-centered home. Maybe that's enough for now, even if it's not flashy. Maybe I just need to be okay with that. After all, is there any grander purpose than motherhood? Is there any nobler goal than a temple-like home? Grad school, an active career, anything, ought to pale in comparison to that. Not that they're mutually exclusive, either -- just that they certainly fit on a hierarchy, and "homemaker" is at the top.

Homemaking, though, is a task of steadiness and moderation -- of constancy. I can't work myself dry every day and then go home and crash for the evening, nor can I give a half-hearted effort. No, I want to be a homemaker who works hard, with her whole heart in it, and one who finds the work a joyful and rewarding thing. And maybe, just maybe, Heavenly Father would like me to learn that sooner rather than later. I'm just glad He's in charge of the timing and not me. Timing has a delicate balance; it's easy to do things too soon or too late. ...Far too much for my puny mortal self to handle.

What I can handle is repenting, turning to my Savior with every moment of fear and heartbreak or grumpiness and apathy. And, for that matter, every dream I have for myself that is nothing compared to His for me. Therefore, I hope to seek employment with greater humility. I hope to find something that does not preclude, but rather enables the work that Heavenly Father has for me these days: learning how to make my own temple-like home, and Christ-centered life, regardless of when or with whom that comes about.

I find the task a bit daunting, I'll be honest. The heart-happy girl I was at 17 didn't have the grown up problems of a 24 year old. But Heavenly Father is still perfectly wise, powerful, and loving, even if I'm a confused twenty-something and not an indignant teenager. He can handle my grown up problems.

And, somehow, I can let Him.

worth a thousand words

2011-10-09T19:50:00.000-06:00

Tonight we played the picture game...

(You know, the one where you have a phrase, and you draw a picture based on that phrase, and the next person writes a phrase based on that picture without looking at the original phrase, and so on.)

I like to think I made the most memorable contribution, when "bad breath" turned into "breathing fire", and I turned the associated picture into "fire-breathing Jew."

I swear, I'm not racist. It just looked more like a yarmulke than hair.

a day at a time

2011-10-07T16:10:00.000-06:00

I've come to an unfortunate conclusion.

I don't write enough.

Sure, I journal. It's primarily a scripture journal at the moment, because I'm a little overwhelmed by the idea of anything beyond that. If I write about the events of my day-to-day life, I might actually have to think about it. I might think about the fact that I am living with my best friend and her husband at the moment, instead of my own place. I might think about the fact that I am once again unemployed, this time of my own volition. I might think about my sadly limited resources and all of the things in my life that I wish were different.

Maintaining a scripture journal, on the other hand, helps me to keep thinks in perspective. I get to think more about the problems of Moroni and Pahoran, of the wicked children of Israel, of Emma Smith. Whether these people were full of faith or fear, the scriptures teach me the truth, as I combat the influences of Satan that are so ready to seep into my life.

In reality, my life is moving along beautifully. I am where the Lord wants me to be. He is carefully tutoring me. Everything will fall into place exactly as it needs to. But that sense of well-being is rather precarious at the moment, and I worry that if the reality of my current situation sinks in, my natural tendency to overthink will lead me not toward God, but away from Him.

It seems I've gotten the same message since mind-June: don't plan. And all things considered, I haven't. Sure, I planned a blood drive, a book drive, and a drive across the country. But considering the amount of things I would ordinarily be trying to contrive and control, that's nothing. I don't have a 5 year plan anymore, let alone a 5 month plan. I don't know where grad school will fit into my life. I don't know where marriage will fit into my life.

All I know is that the Lord is trying to teach me to take things one day at a time. Therefore, I am beginning a new initiative on my blog. I may not be writing about Big Things That Have To Do With My Life As A Whole, but I can write about the small day-to-day things that catch my interest. That may be a song I heard today, a new website I found, or just the way that the rain blips against the leaves. In any case, my happiness is my choice, and I choose to wait, and watch, and obey.

sacrificing isaac

2011-09-25T14:44:00.000-06:00

I'm fascinated by the story of Abraham and Isaac. Abraham waited for years and years and years before God filled the promise that Abraham was most enthusiastic about getting. It was a righteous desire, and finally getting it taught him about patience, and miracles, and the value of an eternal family.

And yet, even after all that time, and all those rich lessons, God wasn't done with him yet. The one blessing in life that Abraham most cherished...a righteous desire...a gift that God had already given him, perhaps even a gift that Abraham had already earned. And God wanted him to give it back.

I've pondered the questions that Abraham might have asked at the time. Can't You take something else, Lord? Didn't You love me enough to give me Isaac to begin with? Didn't You want me to have posterity? What more can I possibly learn? What more could I possibly have to prove to You? How could this possibly be the best thing for us?

I prayerfully discovered what my "Isaac" is a few years ago. It's the person I'd become: independent, accomplished, tough. I turned to the Lord and told Him: if this is what You want, I will put myself on the altar. I will give away my strength, my competence, my autonomy. If it is Your will, I will let You take them away.

But Lord, can't You take something else? Didn't You love me enough to give me these survival skills to begin with? Didn't You want me to be courageous? What more can I possibly learn? What more could I possibly have to prove to You? How could this possibly be the best thing?

It has been the best thing, but oh, it's been a long road. I fell in unrequited love with someone who valued softness, gentleness, and vulnerability. I lost my positions of prestige, and lost the honors and financial stability that comes with them. I moved away from all the people I'd come to think of as my family, off in that little college town.

Yet, I never had to give up me. Who I am is defined by my clearest moments -- not my easiest or hardest ones. It's the moments that I best know God that I best know who I am. I am His.

I still don't find it easy to ask for help. I still wish I had a job that used my talents and compensated me accordingly. I still fight to maintain control.

But God is teaching me to be better, and is preparing me for the great work He has in store for me. He's been guiding me all along -- first to be tough, now to be tender. And like Abraham, I can have all the birthright blessings, as joint-heir with Christ.

And it's going to be wonderful.

allowing others to serve

2011-09-11T16:12:00.000-06:00

I am soaking in the goodness of this moment.

I am physically and mentally worn out, but my heart is at peace with the world.

I sit on my unmade bed, surrounded by a life slowly draining into cardboard boxes, and somehow, I know this is right. I know that God is present in my life.

About 2 months ago, the stake Relief Society presidency asked me to head the service project for Women's Day. Since then, we've been collecting children's and young adult books with the goal of sorting, stickering, and shuttling them to Book Harvest, which is a local organization that gives books to kids who wouldn't have access to them otherwise.

The task was so daunting...something I never in a million years could do by myself. But, as I'm realizing more and more lately, the Lord needs me to ask for help. Not just His help, but the help of others.

And this time, though it was a struggle, I did. And we collected 1573 books. And it was inspiring watching the sisters take the initiative and fill needs. I can provide those opportunities for people.

How amazing.

laying the foundation of a great work

2011-09-05T15:44:00.004-06:00

I'm facing a big life change shortly. It's not that I'm making a decision, but rather that I've made a decision already, and the time to act on that decision is getting really close.

And I don't know how all this is going to turn out. Worst case scenario is that I will be completely broke, unemployed, and 2000 miles away from home.

I am so scared.

I just keep reminding myself that if that's how it turned out, I would still have my God. He won't tell me to do something and then walk away and make me clean up the mess. He doesn't work like that.

Knowing that, I would still feel like I had done the right thing and still know that eventually, everything will turn out fine. It would try me in ways I can't fathom, and require some serious character building, but then again...isn't that just life?

I will have everything I require, and it will arrive at the Lord's hands. It might not happen quickly, but it will happen exactly on time. Until then, it is my business, my privilege, to do small things that will lay the foundation of a great work. If I am both willing and obedient, I will "eat the good of the land of Zion."

So here's me, loosening the petrified grip I have on my heart, bending my mind into willingness, and trusting (hoping!) that no, the Lord's ways are not my ways...

But His ways are certainly better.

anxiety and self-worth

2011-08-31T12:10:00.001-06:00

I've been struggling with anxiety again. Like how an OCD sufferer might literally pick at a scab until it bleeds, I do so mentally. I create problems when I have none to solve, simply because my brain is so compulsively inclined toward problem-solving.

This most frequently manifests in my close relationships and in my self-esteem. I apply false and worldly rules to genuinely positive situations, mistaking "evil for good and good for evil" and as a result, I become hyper-critical and panic-stricken. It usually doesn't occur to me until after I've driven myself frantic that maybe I'm the one with the problem: I'm rely on philosophies and creeds not centered on Christ. I have chosen mammon over God.

While submerged in these suffocating ideas, I compare myself to others and conclude that 1) I am am a monster -- unworthy of love due to all the ridiculous mistakes I make, or 2) that I am a saint and a martyr, and aren't you puny mortals so lucky I deign to associate with you at all?

It's the two manifestations of the same universal sin: pride.

C. S. Lewis (to paraphrase) says that true humility is when we can appreciate our own excellence the same way we do another's. As Paul puts it, we must "approve things that are excellent". And that's what I'm working on right now.

As I seek genuine excellence -- which is the work of the Lord brought about by each unique individual -- I will be less prideful. I will be able to appreciate myself as simply one of God's creations, with all the subordination and divinity implied therein. Being both subordinate and divine at once helps me to also be consistent; instead of overburdening one idea over the other, I can be both at the same time.

We are all subordinately divine. Whether I am an instrument in the Lord's hands, or someone else is, we are still just that: instruments, and hence, subordinate. However, we are the Lord's instruments, Heavenly Father's children, and therefore inherently divine. As we recognize these traits in each other, we both forgive and honor one another more naturally. We recognize Christ in our fellow Christians, not just for their resemblance to Him, but also in our need for Him.

And if I do not disguise my resemblance with false guilt, or my need for Him with hypocrisy, He can shine out of me.

That idea allows for a peace that transcends scab-picking and allows the Lord to use my special talent for problem-solving for His ends. Without pride I can return to my work.

Without pride, I realize I am truly worthwhile, because without pride, I am truly His.

quiet but happy

2011-08-05T11:43:00.000-06:00

It's surprising to me how little I have to say - in writing at least - when things are good.

Life is moving toward stability in regards to my living arrangements.

I'm still dating Chris, and supremely enjoying it.

I could give more details, but mostly there aren't a lot more details to give. That's either because things aren't decided yet, or because they're just that simple.

I like simple. Simple is good.

needing each other

2011-07-23T20:28:00.000-06:00

I'm not sure how coherant this post is going to be, considering I slept from 4am to 8:30am. Really, it's the embarrassing lack of sleep in my life that induced me to write this post, so just consider yourself warned, I suppose.

As I told Chris the other day, I regularly value people over sleep. If there is strength to be acquired - or offered - through the company and conversation of another person, I want it. Even if it's one or two (or four!) in the morning. Looking after other people is just what I do. Because when I reach a point where I actually ask someone else to take care of me, it's usually because I'm dyin'.

But mostly, it's because the Holy Spirit prompts me to reach for another person, for my sake or theirs. Or both.

We are all imperfect, broken, shortsighted, and...lost. But we are also improving, healing, seeking, and inspiring, and more often than not, it takes another person to bring that out of us. There's no fear or shame in that. I can't expect someone else to succeed completely on their own, because I sure don't do that! That's why families are the central unit of society, of the gospel: they work. They are not just useful; they are necessary for our perfection.

Isn't it amazing how smart God is?

the spoons

2011-07-21T16:05:00.000-06:00

A long time ago, Cindy taught me the metaphor of the spoons. It's a pretty neat concept, and pretty handy for Cindy to explain her energy level to people. I use it as a tool in considering my emotional energy. So, I'll explain it to you, too...

Let's say that on a typical morning, you wake up with 10 spoons. The fact that you got up late, and then the traffic that made you even later, takes away 2 spoons. You realize you have waaaay more to do today than you thought and spend your whole morning feeling a little frantic-- that takes away 3. Fortunately, you have a fantastic lunch, and that gives you back 1. The rest of your workday is much better, so it only takes one spoon. So, you go home with 5 spoons to spend on your family for the evening.

Lately, I have woken up with fewer and fewer spoons, largely because I have allowed myself so little sleep. Today I think I woke up with about 4 spoons, compared to my usual 10. This makes me funny and uninhibited, but (as I discovered while on the phone with an uninformed-yet-stubborn customer) leaves me with a short temper and a shorter attention span. By the end of the phone conversation I was ready to throttle the poor lady, and had to work pretty hard not to use my snappy "I refuse to speak to idiots" tone of voice.

I'm not that person, I swear! I am a sweet, composed, funny, generous person...who has been making poor choices with her sleep. Poor choices with my nutrition quickly follow, as do poor choices with my words. Then with my attitude. It's bad news, yo.

Yesterday I went over to Chris's to de-stress a bit, and it was wonderful. At the same time, I recognize today that it doesn't fix the problem; I still need sleep. Furthermore, as one half of a committed relationship, I have a responsibility to take good care of myself so that I have enough spoons to take care of Chris, too, if he needs it.

Or, better yet, if we both have plenty of spoons, we can be joyful and tranquil together. I like the sound of that.

new ingredient; renewed hope

2011-07-10T23:45:00.002-06:00

I've found a new ingredient in my recipe for happy. His name is Chris. And he's my boyfriend.

I realize that in this post, I risk sounding overly sappy - and like I'm getting ahead of myself. But hopefully I can invite you, readers, to come a little closer to Heavenly Father as a result of experiences that have brought me closer to Him as well.

I met Chris after a knock-down, drag-out couple of months. One by one, every piece of my life had came undone. In the midst of these experiences, the Lord would often remind me that all I really needed to do was stay connected with Him and take care of myself -- in that order. Throughout 2011 I had concentrated on doing what makes me genuinely happy, regardless of who I left behind in the process. I told myself every day I need to to trust myself as much as Heavenly Father does. I worked hard to be at peace with a quiet life, sans academia or fulfilling employment or dramatic dating experiences.

Enter Chris. He's pretty much everything I've ever wanted, in addition to a few things I didn't know I need. He's smarter than I am, which reminds me to stay humble. And yet he's got a speech impediment, which prevents his awesomeness from intimidating me entirely. He's so funny - simultaneously goofy and snarky, much like yours truly. He also has this secret emotionally intuitive side that loves poetry and art. And me.

That, perhaps, is the strangest thing of all. I told him today that I'm just not used to being on a pedestal. He gave me a classically Chris "you gotta be kidding me" look and said, "Just because some guy isn't trying to climb it doesn't mean you aren't on one, Sara."

I've always known that, in one way or another. Some days it's been harder to believe than others. Some days people have tried to pull me down. But in the end the fact still stands: I am a chainbreaker. And as such, I am a future mother in Zion, and a teacher, and a disciple. As such, I am pretty great. It's just strange that now, I'm not the only one who gets how great I am. Strange and wonderful. I am so, so blessed.

So, readers. Don't give up. There will be days when it is just. so. hard. Days when your purpose seems impossibly distant, or worse, days when you question whether you have a purpose is at all. But don't lose hope. I testify that Heavenly Father knows us individually - not just who we are now, but what we need now in order to become the people He wants us to be.

Even if that means going through really hard things, to prepare us for our birthrights of joy.

Speak project, pt. 1

2011-07-02T18:03:00.001-06:00

"Acquainted with Grief"

"Acquainted with Grief" detail sketch

"Looking Up"

"Voices from Beneath"

living in the hard moments

2011-07-01T17:10:00.001-06:00

This year has proved to be singularly hard in -- well, not in unexpected ways. I guess I've always known that these issues have been ticking time bombs. Now they've finally exploded, and here I am, cleaning up the mess. It's one of those stories I would hear and say "Oh my word, she is just so amazing. I don't know how she does it."

Except that it's me. This is not a book, not someone else's life. It's my life, and somehow, I have to figure out the nitty-gritty, day-to-day details of it, and somehow remain cheerful and energetic enough to see outside of myself, too. So lately, I soak in Sundays like plants do sunshine. I wrestle with my heart until I can seek nourishment from the scriptures, rather than the band-aid answers I crave. I pray, often in spirals until I finally manage to say what I really mean.

And I look my anxiety in the eye and tell it to shut up.

The right thing is still the right thing no matter how I feel about it. Sometimes the right thing seems really selfish. Or ridiculous-- illogical-- fatalistic. But it gnaws and scrapes and pulls at me. The right thing refuses to be ignored. I can convince myself it's not the right thing, but really that just means I'm putting it off. I think that's how the Spirit works when you live righteously. It won't leave you alone until you give in.

today

2011-06-27T19:02:00.002-06:00

Today is a "I only slept for six hours" day.

Today is a "I feel like I did the right thing, so there" day.

Today is a "is this ever going to get better?" day.

Today is a "my brain keeps going in circles..." day.

But...

Today is also a "thou art careful and troubled about many things" day.

Today is a "be not afraid; neither be thou dismayed" day.

Today is a "be still and know that I am God" day.

So, today, I might just be okay.

dear future self,

2011-06-24T18:44:00.006-06:00

I think about you a lot. I think about where you are going to work, who you are going to love, what you are going to look like, who is going to love you. In short, what your day-to-day life will be.

Mostly, though I think about who, exactly, you are going to be. Someone strong, yet deeply sensitive? Someone who does not compromise the right, yet forgives and empowers? Someone who is true to herself, yet makes sacrifices to bless others?

I demand a lot of you, Future Self. I see you as a person of deep strength and profound calm, unruffled by the obstacles and pains life throws at you. I know that you hold people to your heart, absorbing their hurts and loving them tremendously despite their weaknesses. I know that you are fearless, in a quiet way; infallibly serene in your knowledge that your God is firmly at your side, and therefore you can do anything.

Oh, but dear Future Self, I just don't know how to be you yet. I am so far away from fitting your description, and so I question, all the time, whether or not you and I are actually the same person. Whether or not I am capable of being you. I hold my now-self to your standard and I just fall so short of it. Yes, in my best moments I resemble you, and that briefly gives me hope. Mostly though, I am overwhelmed by the knowledge that you are so far away still, and I don't really know how to get there.

And yet, it's your faith, Future Self, your gospel-attained brilliance, that reminds me to love my now-self too. I don't know much about the long road between me and you, but I do know that it requires steady, simple choices in favor of the Lord over everything else. If I am ever going to meet you -- the giver of hugs to small children, the cooker of nutritious meals, the tranquil and delighted lover of a good man; in short, the heart of her home -- then I need to be okay with meeting me every day as I look in the mirror. And as mixed up as my now-self is, the only way to do that is via the Savior.

And you know that, too. You know that the only way you became who you are is to take it one day at a time. I know all too well that there are a million things that could go wrong before I get to you, but focusing on that doesn't increase the likelihood of getting there - just my anxiety about it. And, wouldn't you know, Future Self, that anxiety just distracts me from the real work of living up to the potential that is you.

Future Self, I'm so excited to meet you one day. I'm sure you'll arrive in my life quietly, gradually. By that time I'll probably have another Future Self to look forward to. Regardless, you know yourself well enough to know that you can give yourself a big, grateful hug on my behalf. You are the goal, even while you are the one who reached for the goal.

Because I know that, I'm going to try to think about you a little bit less. I know you're there waiting for me, even if I don't know how long the road is between us or how many times I'll get lost along the way. I do know that Jesus Christ is as excited about you as I am, and He's my unfailing guide, shining a light and teaching me about Him along the way. I know you wouldn't want me to be afraid, and I'm not when I'm really listening to Him. And I know you forgive me for being distracted sometimes. That helps me to keep coming back.

Thank you, Future Self, for knowing Him and knowing me...for finding joy in my weakness because it demonstrates His strength.

"Hold on thy way. ...Fear not...for God shall be with you forever and ever."

I'm taking a deep breath and hoping to be a little more like you - today.

Love,

Me

redefining beautiful chaos

2011-06-21T18:31:00.087-06:00

The subtitle of my blog, "living a life of beautiful chaos" used to be very meaningful for me. My life was chaotic, but it was delicious. I was busy taking a million opportunities that I'd never had before. I attended class full time, worked part time, volunteered on campus, nurtured my roommates, flirted to my heart's content, magnified my calling, maintained a positive relationship with my family, and made new friends on an almost daily basis.

Can I just say - WOW. I am so impressed with myself. I had no idea I was capable of so much, or could have so much fun and fulfillment doing it. It was, indeed, a life of beautiful chaos.

After a while, though, the bustle began to wear me down. And down. And down. Before long, I was operating at a high level on the outside, and a very low level inside. I was, in so many ways, exhausted. My beautiful-chaos-life turned into metaphorically snarfing donuts 3 meals a day. I had scurvy of the soul, and a spiritual sugar-coma to match.

Dark days indeed.

It took months to really "detox". I spent a lot of time belaboring the point that I am a worthwhile person regardless of how much I get done in a given day, or how many prestigious positions I hold. I insisted I wasn't just a "professional;" I am also an artist, a learner, a lover. Yes, putting forth a lot of effort comes pretty naturally to me. However, some of the wisest advice I was ever given in college was "You can do anything you want to do. You just can't do everything you want to do."

It's high time I stopped trying to do everything - and I am trying, though it feels a little like rehab. I just know that there's a limited number of things that will fit into my life, so I am working on fitting in only the very best.

However, I think it was my experience with "a life of beautiful chaos" that taught me what the very best is. I found out that I have a talent for sharing truths and insights, whether in class or (you may have guessed) in writing. I love service and learning. I am fun-loving, a little dramatic, and driven. And I love - LOVE - the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Knowing these things, I more easily pick and choose the activities and people that fill my life. I am a teacher - I will go to grad school and someday (hopefully) teach at a university. I am a chainbreaker - I will do everything I can to make my home an ideal place to be, so that my children have the best start in life possible. Even if that means I wait for marriage for a long time.

With that in mind, "beautiful chaos" means something different these days. My days are simple: I work, I come home, I go to a church function or find a way to pass the evening at home. The chaos is on the inside, as I cope with the frustration of unrealized potential and unfulfilled dreams.

Nonetheless, it is beautiful. Even these times of burden have meaning. Heavenly Father is perfecting me, one difficult day at a time, and somehow, I choose to be grateful for that. Or, at least, I will try.

labor and wait

2011-06-19T16:26:00.002-06:00

I've had a series of profound, uplifting thoughts today that I'd love to share one by one. However, I don't want to overwhelm or bore anyone...so I'll just share one that, in my opinion, sums up all the rest:

Let us, then, be up and doing
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.

(Thank you, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow.)

As you might have guessed, I have been struggling lately to do the right thing even though it's not what I want. I am so grateful for those moments, though, when it becomes obvious that there is light at the end of the tunnel. Someday, I WILL be good at this. Maybe in like a thousand years...but still.

This is life, and no matter how it turns out, I still have to be "up and doing" in one way or another. That's just how life works - even inaction counts as use of my agency, and I say that from experience. So really, what counts is that I have "a heart for any fate." My heart can handle any fate, because whatever fate comes to me, it is the one that Heavenly Father and I have worked out together. It's just...believing that is really hard sometimes. I forget that I'm an eternal being and these are temporary, mortal problems.

That's why I like the last line: learn to labor AND to wait. I can be really good at the laboring part - too good, sometimes, which gets me into trouble now and then. But I am learning to not just labor, which comes naturally, but to also wait. Wait on others and their agency, wait on my life to have circumstances favorable to what I want, wait on myself to grow and develop enough to handle it, wait on Heavenly Father to give me the go-ahead.

And someday He will. I doubt that sometimes, but I do not doubt today. Today I understand that yes, He could tell me yes or no, and He could tell me when and how. He could, but He won't, because I am too important to Him for that. I am here to become like Him, not to get what I want when I want it. He has not removed the burden of my unrealized hopes, but He has lightened the load and strengthened my shoulders to bear it. That's the most beautiful part about it, I think: I still get to keep my dreams.

better with Him

2011-06-17T21:40:00.004-06:00

Today, I woke up with a thick husk of anxiety around my heart. I tried prayer; I tried positive self-talk; I tried deep, relaxing breaths. It wouldn't budge. Life and I were simply not friends.

And not only did life bother me today, but it bothered me that life was bothering me, if that makes sense. Previously this week, I had been gloriously content with my theoretically crummy life. Not today though. By early afternoon I was ready to just to go home and detox, away from outside demands, and figure out what on earth was wrong with me.

I thought about it all day. Now it's bedtime, and I can only think of one potential cause for today's funk.

Last night, Danielle and I watched The Producers. I laugh so hard at some parts of that movie, but the essential message of the movie is that it's OK to be a schmuck. It makes poor moral choices look fun, dramatic, and generally preferable to more correct behavior. According to Article of Faith #13, it just plain falls short. And knowing that, I watched it anyway.

But, come on, isn't it a little melodramatic to blame today's funk on that? Could a choice that simple really make such an impact on my day? Could choosing 2 hours of semi-crass entertainment actually affect my attitude toward every other aspect of my life?

It doesn't seem to make a lot of sense...but I think the answer is yes.

Gut reaction? "But it shouldn't work like that! It shouldn't be that big of a deal! Ugh, how ridiculous." Ordinarily I'd explain away that reaction, thinking it's only a big deal for me, that somehow I'm the exception. That I need a thicker skin so I can decide to watch a movie like that AND still keep the Spirit. But I don't think that's right either. There's a universal truth in play here, I think:

Yes, the Spirit is sensitive. But we are so much better with Him than without.

Because frankly, it's not even about the movie. It's about the choice, and I need to choose to make the gospel the dominant influence in my life. The Spirit pushes out discouragement and distress, but when I push out the Spirit, for whatever reason, those negative, distracting feelings are sure to follow. So I will try to believe that the renewed influence of the Spirit follows repentance just as surely...I will try not to get too discouraged. I will try to remember that the Atonement makes everything, including me, turn out OK in the end.

obedience

2011-06-14T20:52:00.002-06:00

This week, getting ready for the day has been a slow process. I have uncoiled myself from the semi-grotesque position I sleep in lately, have gingerly placed my feet in front of the other until I arrive at the closet. There, I ponder what shirt will be the easiest to put on, what jeans will rub least. This is what happens when you bring a sunburn home from the beach.

So from the outside, this morning started out like any other day lately. Yet, it was very, very different.

A friend told me yesterday, as we chatted on the phone, that she thought the most wonderful feeling in the world was to stop hurting. We can easily overlook the absence of pain, she said, but the transition from pain to not-pain is an exquisite joy. That stuck with me. Every word for the absence of pain -- comfort, consolation, relief -- indicates a bubbling up of happiness from a deep place. A place as deep as our hurt, I daresay.

I submit that fear is its own kind of pain. And I feel like I have so much to be afraid of...the things I want are so far away, by distance and time, by life stage, by personal development. How am I ever going to get there? How am I ever going to deserve it? How am I ever going to figure this out? How is it ever going to be OK for me to want it now if right now, it's still so impossible?

I don't have answers to any those questions, and that scares me. But today, for the first time in a long time, it was okay. This morning, sunburn notwithstanding, was different. In a merciful reprieve from my fear, the Spirit bore witness:

I may not understand the methods. I may not like the consequences. But the right thing is still the right thing, and as His daughter, it is my responsibility, duty, and joy to do it anyway.

It doesn't really change the situation, but lately I stopped praying for the problem to be fixed anyway. I've just been asking for the burden to be lightened or for my spiritual shoulders to be strengthened enough to bear it. Heavenly Father has been infusing my life with that, and today it coalesced. It startled me, this cup-runneth-over, renewed faith that seemed to bubble up from nowhere.

No, I still don't have the one thing I most want, and I don't know how to get it, or if I'll ever get it at all. But I know - I testify - that obedience brings goodness to our lives, and as a result, there is no need for fear. It doesn't always make sense, and it doesn't guarantee immediate sunshiny consequences. But it is the only thing that brings peace instead of regret, love instead of resentment, faith instead of fear.

Through the Atonement, Jesus Christ is rooting out the regret and resentment and fear that I have internalized. There may still be consequences. I may never fully understand. But I know that I will be blessed if I obey.

So I pray. I wait. And I obey.

2011 of doom...well, sorta

2011-06-09T21:49:00.003-06:00

It's been a hard year so far.

I fell in love, and it hasn't worked out like I'd hoped.
I graduated from BYU-Idaho, and I miss my life there more than anything.
I found a job, but it is far from what I believe my "calling" to be.

At the end of last year, I told everyone that I felt like I was watching my house burn down. Everything about my life was going to change, in my opinion for the worse, and there was nothing I could do but stand there and watch it happen.

In some aspects, the ashes are still smoldering. I am still mourning the loss of that life I'd made. I'm not fully convinced that I can't have it back, and I keep trying to find a way to go back in time and make things right -- to make my house fireproof.

About now I'm supposed to say, "but I know it doesn't work like that." I can't quite bring myself to say it. I WANT it to work like that. Lately I am learning, over and over and over again, that I am really fond of my own set of values. I've got this life philosophy, this set of values that I'm terribly fond of. According to it, there are things in my life that should work. They should make me happy. But they don't.

That's because my values and philosophies have very little to do with the Lord's. It doesn't take much...just buy into a few of Satan's lies, and there you have it. You start to believe things that simply aren't true, that have nothing to do with reality. Then you start to question reality because it doesn't match your ideas of what it ought to be. It's exhausting. And sinful.

On the other hand, my patriarchal blessing directs me to make the gospel the dominant influence in my life. Doing so allows me to be sensitive and obedient to the Spirit -- even when I don't personally agree.

I may not agree with, or understand, the turn that my life has taken this year. However, I know that my Father in heaven loves me. I know that I am important to Him. He is much more concerned about my character than my temporary comfort, and He is determined to purify me.

Despite my protests, He knows that deep down, I still want to be purified. I still want to be worthy of a Godly throne one day. I still want to claim my rightful place as His daughter, one who serves with her whole heart and every ounce of talent she possesses. Heavenly Father is going to get me there...I just know it!

It's just that sometimes, His ways are not my ways. His methods are so over my head that they seem inside out, backwards, and just plain wrong. But they're not, and through the Atonement, Jesus Christ softens my heart so I can obey anyway.

Yes. I can obey anyway.

a walk before the thunder

2011-03-23T18:23:00.000-06:00

This is who I am--
t-shirt, jeans, ponytail
sandals I slip off as soon as I can.
Conscious of my casual divinity.

This is who I am--
eyes welling with the rare and sweeping joy
that only the wind of a coming storm can bring.
Eager for danger and electricity.

This is who I am--
bleeding words, leaking more with every pulse,
a constant purging, a gentle dying.
The only way I know to live.

poem for a spring walk, in three movements

2011-03-19T12:35:00.000-06:00

The warm road beneath my bare
And too-long-still feet,
The sunshine on my back so fresh
I can feel the freckles forming,
The way the trees and sky
Create each other bluer, greener--
And the budding,
Steady like a beating heart--
Tells me
Spring is here to stay.

This is my jungle,
This tangle of trees:
Bare trunks reaching up and up,
Then a billion needles arch their backs in the sun.
This, my jungle, is populated by squirrels who cross the road
To dash into shrubs that bloom the color of lemons.
This jungle, mine to wander and be lost in,
Punctuated with mailboxes, cars, and humanity,
Is mine, and mine, alone.

The only way to find the sky here,
Where houses fend for themselves
In acres of piney wilderness, is to stand,
In the middle
Of the road.
Isn't that about right, though?
We must all face our fear of being hit
To look into the face of God.

rise like bread

2011-03-19T09:12:00.000-06:00

Find joy in their joy,
Their marital bliss.
It is not an accusation.

Live for now, not then,
Or them--
Those make-believe children
You'd love if you could.

Let the ache for that life just sit,
Not to harden you like concrete
But to rise like bread
Into soft, domestic reality
You'll love, and nurture, and share.

favorite place to eat

2011-02-27T16:17:00.000-07:00

I'm with Natalie on missing the little kitchen at 205...but that felt unoriginal, so I opted for my other favorite place: Cafe Rio. For me, that'll be a pork enchilada style burrito with sweet rice, black beans, mild sauce, cheese, lettuce, and pico de gallo, please! I don't know how I'd handle a choice between heaven and Cafe Rio - so I keep hoping they're one and the same.

My heart aches, sitting here, remembering all of the times I've hopped into Tim's car and driven to IF to the sound of Our Lady Peace and the latest thoughts on his mind. Glen and Natalie were usually there too and oh, how I love these people. Sometimes I hate my life for taking me so far away, but I guess it was never really meant to last anyway.

last purchase

2011-02-27T16:04:00.001-07:00

No, the last thing I purchased was not me. But, the last thing I purchased WAS a lot of assorted hair goo, which worked way better than expected and made my hair a little crazy! Hence the picture. Fortunately I've accepted that I will just have to practice and experiment in order to achieve casually gorgeous waves in 10 minutes. (This took way longer than 10 minutes, by the way. Maybe that's part of the problem.)

Day 8 a song to match your mood

2011-02-14T21:35:00.000-07:00

This is tricky right now because I have to decide what my mood is. I have a habit of not owning up to the blues when I have them. The mundane kind of blues is so transient that it seems silly to give it credence by acknowledging it.

At any rate, "Belle of the Boulevard" by Dashboard Confessional keeps coming to mind, which I find interesting and unexpected. This song mourns the loss of innocence, but it also refuses to acknowledge the pain in that loss.

I'll be pondering this for a while.

Day 7 your dream wedding

2011-02-11T10:34:00.004-07:00

Paper lanterns in lots of sizes. Strings of white Christmas lights. Some cool theme/motif that is both whimsical and edgy.

Navy blue and lime green. (I thought green bouquets were stupid until today -- but they're SO PRETTY with the navy dresses!!) Cindy as matron of honor, Deborah as bridesmaid. Tulle.

Really fun shoes -- haven't yet decided on Converses or really hot, classy heels.

Something more interesting than cake. Early spring. A FUN reception, not a dumb, boring one -- and probably outside.

Temple.

Oh, and the love of my life. Of course.

Day 6 a photo of an animal you'd love to keep as a pet

2011-02-11T09:33:00.000-07:00

Secretly, I have a thing for out-of-the-ordinary pets. Not TOO out of the ordinary -- I don't want a monkey or anything! -- but reptiles are pretty dang cool. Iguanas in particular look like you have a dinosaur as a pet.

Unfortunately, they're about as cuddly as dinosaurs, too. And unlike the dinos, they live for stinkin' EVER. So, I'll probably stick with my second choice:

Quiet, practical size for an apartment, cute, lives for a couple of years, and WAY more interesting than a fish. Sold.

Day 5 a photo of yourself two years ago

2011-01-30T16:08:00.000-07:00

This was the first winter I stayed in Rexburg. I was terrified, to tell you the truth. I remember telling Tim, who I'd only known for a semester, "I need you to still be my friend, because everyone else will be gone!" Bless his heart, he did exactly that. But I didn't need to worry, not that winter. That winter I had Ann, Megan, Rachael, Emily, and Lesley. By the end, we were all fast friends. I still miss those girls sometimes.

It was also about this time that I chopped off all of my hair again. And faux-hawked it the next day. Short hair was fun for a while, especially because I basically proved that I didn't care what anyone else thought. Now I'm growing it out again, and loving it, and think it would be a sad waste of really pretty hair to chop it all off again.

Day 4 your favorite photograph of your best friend(s)

2011-01-30T15:31:00.000-07:00

Cindy and I, on one of our long, chilly walks around Rexburg.

I've known Cindy since I moved to North Carolina in fifth grade. The first two years of our acquaintanceship were inconsequential, but after a birthday party of a mutual friend where we didn't really have anyone to talk to but each other, things started to change. We discovered we both loved writing and Harry Potter. Apparently that's all it took. One Saturday afternoon visit turned into two, which turned into a sleepover, which turned into multi-day sleepovers every month or so. By that time, I was completely hooked on Cindy's love for classic literature, Broadway musicals, and long walks through the woods. God knew how badly I needed this beautiful, interesting, fun, smart, talented, spiritual person in my life.

After a little drama on my part (trying to decide what school I was going to,) and a little nervousness on Cindy's part (wondering if we were going to drive each other crazy,) we decided to room together in college. Best. Decision. Ever. Cindy and I enjoyed being English majors, going to concerts on campus, sitting outside on a blanket for entire summers, and just living in the kind of environment that only BYU-Idaho can offer.

We also looked after each other, in a way that only roommates and girls and best friends can. We saw each other through a lot of emotional turmoil, with hard classes, newfound independence, and of course, guys. And yes, there were days when I hurt Cindy's feelings, or she hurt mine, or both, but at the end of the day, we always found reasons to be grateful for each other. It was a wonderful, beautiful thing. I miss those days...I think about Cindy all the time.

About 7 years into our friendship, Cindy met a wonderful man named Mahon, and if you know anything about them, you already know that they're probably the happiest, most loving married couple ever to exist. I was privileged to be Cindy's maid of honor, and loved seeing her so, so happy.

Still do, in fact.

No, Cindy no longer functions as my best friend. I don't tell her all my secrets, or all the funny things that happen during my day, or my silly-or-otherwise plans for the future. But regardless, I treasure what we've had and hope that we will continue to keep a special, deep place in our hearts for each other. She singlehandedly kept me afloat, kept me holding on, in a time in my life when I didn't have anything else. To tell you the truth, I didn't even have me.

I think it's because Cindy helped me stabilize who I am that Tim has helped me to change so much. (I think he's little uncomfortable that he fills this "best friend" role, but he probably should have thought of that before he started spending all of his time with me. :) )

Tim and I, after a lovely night of ballroom dancing - on my birthday, even!

You know, I'd never really thought about how alike Tim and Cindy are before, which is probably why I find it so baffling right now...

For one, they are undeniably intellectual. Cindy and Tim always have such interesting things to say about things they've read, and have figured out so many problems, and explored so many options. Talking to them is, without fail, an enjoyable experience, simply because they have so much brain, and they care deeply about the things they think about. Plus, Tim and Cindy work hard to do the right thing no matter what, demonstrating both diligence and spirituality. The most helpful insights I have ever received have been from these two vastly intelligent people - and they give them to me all the time.

They both struggle with their health, and have for a long time. Cindy and Tim have very different health issues, of course, but the stress of doctors' appointments, insurance, medication, and being "different" and "limited" is a familiar experience to both of them. They invite me to be understanding and nurturing, and their experiences inspire me to appreciate my own wellbeing so much more.

Tim and Cindy are both extroverts, but possibly as a result of problematic health, the intense need for people and fun is quickly followed by an intense need for silence and rest. No matter what extreme they're in, they need physical touch in order to feel loved. Being a little more even keeled myself, I love going along for the ride as they have their highs and lows. And at the end of the day, who doesn't want to sit close to someone you love and watch a well-written, funny TV show? I have many fond memories like that with both Cindy and Tim. And I, too, love physical affection.

They're creative, whether it's art, poetry, dance, whatever. They're predominantly visual people, with an undeniable penchant for music and words. They're also curious. They appreciate adventure, emotions, and the wisdom (and JOY) that comes from experience. While they are certainly more passionate about visual arts, dance, and music than I am, not to mention better at it, I'm completely fascinated by people like them. I'm also fascinated by adventure and words (Does "British Literary Pilgrimage 2010" mean anything to you? :) ) so we're certainly in good company there!

But even with all of these similarities, I don't think that Tim and Cindy could ever really be friends with each other. They simply have very, very different philosophies about life. Cindy favors industry, tangible results, duty, and convention. She plays by the rules, and she's good at it. I can't tell you the number of funny looks I've gotten from her over the years, the number of times she told me to be reasonable, to get to work, to focus on my chosen destination. Because of her, I have deep, conservative roots, and a love and understanding of social norms because of the benefits they have to offer.

But by the fall of 2008, I'd taken this advice too far. I was sadly uptight, yet occasionally a bit flippant - a stellar professional with this inexplicable goofy streak. With Cindy's excellent influence, I'd gotten good at conforming to the system - I just forgot to figure out what made me happy.

That's when I met Tim. Tim encourages me find my own version of happiness, now that "the rules" are securely under my skin. He reminds me that sometimes the "rules" I perceive are really a result of my skewed perspective - so why follow them if they're erroneous AND they make me unhappy? He's the guy who encouraged me to skip class when I was having a hard day, for example, and who tells me it's OK that I talk his ear off sometimes. He thinks it's OK that people are strange, because he knows that finding your certain kind of strangeness in someone else often forges the deepest bonds. He values connection over convention.

Tim is spontaneous. He loves to break from the norm, question the rules, and live in the moment.

"Joy is in the journey," Tim tells me.

...And what a joyful journey it's been.

Day 3 your idea of the perfect first date

2011-01-22T21:57:00.000-07:00

Perfect FIRST date?

It would probably be best if I didn't realize it was a date until afterward, frankly.

If a guy is too flirtatious in the beginning, it feels very predatory to me. Yikes. On the other hand, if he plays it too casual, I'm convinced he doesn't like me and I don't put in any effort at reeling him in.

The balance? A ready arsenal of get-to-know-you questions, to be used as needed. Ideally we'd go somewhere that we could chat, but that it would also be OK if we didn't.

(I actually went on a first date that was like that -- we paddled around in a little kayak through this golf course. When we wanted to talk, we did, but if we didn't we just concentrated on the oars. Worked great for me. Probably the best date I had that whole summer. Thanks again, Ben.)

After the first date though, he'd better start talking about how pretty he thinks I am or something, otherwise I'm going to give up on him again. And then he can start subtle touchy type stuff.

But the first date? I don't know you, man. Gerroff me!

Day 2 a photo of something you ate today

2011-01-18T23:02:00.000-07:00

Uhhh. What DID I eat today?

Ha. Well, the first thing I eat every day is my vitamins:

Yes. They are prenatal. Yes. They are gummy. Yes. I love them.

Don't judge me.

They are prenatal because I am dyyyyyying to grow my hair out. I had a pixie cut basically the entire time I was in college, and now I am so ready to have long hair again. Particularly because I actually know how to take care of my hair now. All of my friends have accepted the fact that I have super-hero hair. You should too.

They are gummy because I hate the way regular adult vitamins smell. It's like the sour armpit of the pharmacy aisle.

I love them because I have ALWAYS struggled to take my vitamins. But these, I take. I have a purpose for taking them. And I have some kind of instant gratification when I take them. (Did I mention they're SOUR gummy vitamins? Mmmm.) Successfully taking vitamins is just one little way I prove to myself that I am a competent adult. Yay me.

Day 1: a photo of yourself and a description of how your day was

2011-01-17T21:44:00.001-07:00

I'm sick today. It's really not that bad, all illnesses considered. It's not strep, or the flu, or even cabin fever. Just me, with a cold, doing all the same things I'd do any other day lately: Get up late. Eat something small and healthy for breakfast/lunch (today it was a smoothie). Write in my journal. Think a lot. Look for a job. Talk to people on facebook. And skype. Chat with my brother a little. Give him a hug before he goes to work. It's a good life. I keep feeling like I should be embarrassed by how little I have to show for my time, but honestly, doesn't a smiling face and a little peace of mind show enough? Even if I get it from the inane?

I did watch a couple of episodes of Doctor Who today, and that was pretty fantastic. David Tennant was my first Doctor, so I underappreciate Christopher Eccleston and therefore the Doctor himself in season 1. But the Doctor is fascinating in season 1, especially if you already know the character. This is our beloved Doctor straight out of the war, full of such deep anguish that it's turned off his heart. It's very much surface-level Doctor: clever and a little cutting, but still gets the job done because he does, in fact, care.

And then Rose changes him. Slowly, but she does -- with her questions, her demands, her mercy. She reaches underneath the surface and pulls our Doctor out.

I love Rose. She's wise without being jaded. She's principled without being judgmental. And she can't resist an adventure. And on the surface, yes, she does want to travel time and space and see the universe. But beyond that, I suspect that this prickly man who loves people (humans or otherwise) catches her attention. It's more than an adventure in the TARDIS. It's an adventure with him.

I relate strongly to that. People are an adventure, all on their own. Figuring out what they need and then figuring out how to give it to them is a pattern that defines my life.

Well. Right now the pattern that defines my life is just sitting around. But, for a little while anyway, I think that's exactly what I need.

Chastity, God's Love, My Life: A Testimony of Truth

2010-09-01T15:56:00.000-06:00

I have a friend who wants to date Mormons. We laughed about this at first – she’s a Catholic living in Utah – but then she finally explained. She is absolutely in love with the idea of waiting to have sex until marriage. She’s sick of being propositioned on the second date, so with Mormon boys it’s so nice not to have to worry about that. My friend complained that she just doesn’t understand why other boys can’t respect that, or wrap their brains around that concept.

“Well gosh,” I told her, “it’s not at all a part of modern culture.”

Which is a shame. I genuinely believe that any time anyone has premarital sex, they are “playing marriage”. That ends up making a mockery of the most sacred and special and life-changing relationship you will ever ever have, EVER. I KNOW that's not right. And I respect both my God and my future husband too much to put myself in situations where my conviction of the sacredness of sex and marriage will be questioned.

And here's the really cool thing about most Mormons. Sure, we're raised to believe this stuff, but in this crazy world we're in, you just can't live your life coasting on what other people tell you. So people who act like they're not down with the premarital sex thing usually really believe it's wrong! It's a conviction, not a culture. For the most part. Our doctors are amazed when we inform them that we are not sexually active, but really, it’s just a part of who we are. There’s extra light in our eyes.

I mean, I know that there are things in my life that I struggle with, just like everyone else. I have my ups and downs…but I want you to envision a graph. My line, even with all the ups and downs, is always at the top half of the graph, because God is in my life in frankly unimaginable ways. Other people have ups and downs too, but I worry sometimes that they are just living on a lower plane, when their lives could be AWESOME. I'm not saying that my life is perfect because you add God to the mix and BLAM, everything is fixed. Just that living spiritually is a generally happier way to be.

Spirituality is a necessary component that gets you out of bed in the morning and gives you a reason for living. Yet, there are a ton of things in life that dull that sensitivity to spiritual things, and pull your line downward on the graph, so to speak. That’s why I don't swear, or drink, or wear skimpy clothes. It takes something awesome -- like the power of words, or my body's inherent value -- and cheapens it, whether it's by focusing on the negative or distracting me from the positive. Or both. And that makes it a lot harder for me to use these amazing resources that God has given me in order to make my life, and the lives of other people, as wonderful as they should be. I went through a time when I had a really self-destructive mindset, and it was so amazing how God pulled me out of it in order to change my life, and enable me to change the lives of others.

Let me just say right off that I love my father. Even though I’m nearly 23, he’s still “Daddy” to me. When I call him just to say hello – which is often – we usually talk for at least an hour. He’s generous and intelligent and enthusiastic, a combination which often results in him explaining really interesting things to me. My dad loves to give me advice and is an amazing listener, and he always seems to know exactly what to say in order to make me feel less crazy. I love that I get to be one of his best friends.

However, my father grew up in a physically and emotionally abusive home, and it carried into how he raised me. Not going to mince words here – he has been emotionally abusive. Our relationship (and his parenting) has MINDBLOWINGLY improved since I was a kid. But I am still in the process of healing from, well, from my upbringing.

The worst part of it was the November after I turned 15. For the first time, I was the oldest kid at home and I was just so sick of bearing my father's disproportionate reactions. So I wrote him a note and told him that I couldn't take it anymore, and if he didn't knock it off, I was going to take every pain pill in the house. (We had a lot; my parents have had multiple joint surgeries.) I put the note on his pillow, and then went into my room to sob for a while.

Eventually the incoherent sobs formed into a desperate prayer. "Heavenly Father, I can't handle this, I can't do this, I can't take this for another 3 years before I can move out, if there is any way to get me out of here please do it, things are never going to change and I just don't have the strength to do this anymore, are you there? can you help me? are you there?"

It was about then when the thought shoved itself into my head -- divine intervention at its most personal -- that if there was any time to read the scriptures for comfort, this was it. So, desperately throwing my eyes around the room, I found my scriptures: Old Testament, New Testament, The Book of Mormon (which has the same light and truth that the Bible does, but talks about the people in the ancient Americas instead of the people of ancient Jerusalem), and Doctrine and Covenants (which is a collection of revelations -- you know, like God talking to His children -- written down. Most of them are God talking to Joseph Smith about what Christ's church was like when Christ was on the earth, and how to make the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints that way again. Pretty amazing if you ask me.)

I blindly opened the book and flipped around until it felt right, and started reading. I found a chapter in Doctrine and Covenants, which comes from a time when the early Mormons were being persecuted and really didn't have a safe place to call home. If possible, I cried even harder when I found the verses. Remember that I was suicidal at this point, even though I was working so hard to be a good person despite being in a pretty hopeless situation, and you'll understand the weight of these words:

"For verily I say unto you, blessed is he that keepeth my commandments, whether in life or in death; and he that is faithful in tribulation, the reward of the same is greater in the kingdom of heaven. Ye cannot behold with your natural eyes, for the present time, the design of your God concerning those things which shall come hereafter, and the glory which shall follow after much tribulation. For after much tribulation come the blessings. Wherefore the day cometh that ye shall be crowned with much glory; the hour is not yet, but is nigh at hand."

It was a message from God, directly to me. “Sara, I know you don’t want to live anymore. But I am going to make up for every hard thing that you are going through. You can’t even begin to understand how awesome things are going to be – not yet, but soon.”

Wow. Those verses wrapped me up in this overwhelming and protective sense of God's love. I found the following verse in the Book of Mormon a few days later, and cried again, knowing how apt a description it was:

"But behold, the Lord hath redeemed my soul from hell; I have beheld his glory, and I am encircled about eternally in the arms of his love."

Having finally combated the more concrete part of the problem -- that my wonderful daddy can be a real jerk sometimes -- my angst was redirected to the more abstract side. How my dad treated me had affected how I thought of myself. After some counseling, and no longer being on survival mode, I could finally see: Wow, I think I’m pretty worthless. But I was still functioning, mostly because I knew God obviously didn't think I was worthless, and I tried to be a good person for Him, if nothing else.

I lived with this mindset -- I think I'm awful, everyone else thinks I'm awful, but God disagrees -- for the next two and a half years. By that time, the stunning truth of God's love had been somewhat overpowered by the crippling idea that His love was the only kind I would ever deserve. That's when, in a general psychology class that I didn't actually have to take, I was given the assignment to smile at everyone I had eye contact with. For a week.

WHAT?? my brain screamed. No one wants me to smile at them! They'll think I'm so weird! They'll be mean about it! Who DOES that? What kind of crazy idea...? AAHHHHHHH!!!

But, even as a senior in high school, I had a sense of adventure that to this day pushes me to do things that are just a little outside of the norm. So I tried it. And, hesitantly, tentatively...I liked it.

A few days later, I went to seminary. Seminary is a unique program of the Church where high school students get together during the school year -- often at very early hours! -- to read the scriptures and talk about the lessons in them. My house was too far away from the gathering point for me to meet every morning, but a nice woman in the ward agreed to meet with me and my siblings once a week so that we could participate in seminary too. That week, we were studying the New Testament, and since the school year had just started, we were on Matthew 5.

I don't know how I held it together long enough to get out of there, but somehow I did. And then I bawled. Again. (My early life involved a lot of crying, can you tell?) Here’s why:

"Ye are the light of the world. A city that is set on an hill cannot be hid. Neither do men light a candle, and put it under a bushel, but on a candlestick; and it giveth light unto all that are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven."

God loved me, yes, but other people did too. Not only that, but it was my responsibility to share God's love with them. I had light, and there was no hiding it. So that year, I smiled at everyone. Joked with them. Made friends. There were certainly days when I was still afraid, and God had to offer me some more reassurance. But overall...it was incredible.

These experiences were the start of a brand new life for me. It wasn't perfect, and since then I have definitely had my share of dark, lonely, and painful hours. But I know I've had worse, and survived. I can survive anything, because God is tutoring me -- me, personally -- to be the best Sara I can possibly be. And He's never going to give up.

Because of these experiences, I know that God exists. I know that the Holy Spirit acts as a messenger and a comforter and a guide, and I can live my life to always have His presence. I know that Jesus Christ suffered, to an impossible degree, so that I can become a new person every day, even when I sin and making stupid and hurtful and lazy mistakes that pull me away from becoming the person God wants me to be. Jesus Christ, God's Only Begotten Son, also takes my paltry, weak efforts to be good, and expands them -- magnifies them -- so that with Him, I accomplish more and receive more blessings than I could ever deserve. I rely on Him to bring me back to our Father -- Christ's Father and my Father, and yours. Christ's eternal sacrifice makes me clean, even clean enough to be in the presence of the perfect and holy and eternal Creator of the universe, who fathered my spirit and wants nothing but the very, extremely, most perfect best for me. Heavenly Father wants me -- us -- to be what He is, with our own infinite children and planets and knowledge to direct them all accordingly. To love them all perfectly, like He does.

HOW INCREDIBLE IS THAT??

To bring it back to our original point, I think that's why it's so important to be chaste before marriage. When we have children on this earth, we're practicing for when we're like God. Why would you ever fool around with that? That's why Mormons are so strict on dating and marriage and such, you know. The temple is the only place sacred enough for a man and a woman make that promise to God and to each other: that they will do everything they can to become, together, how God the Father is. It's the most sacred and special responsibility any person can ever have, and premarital sex takes all that light and truth and holy, sacred potential...and flings it out the window. It makes me want to cry just thinking about it.

So yes, I agree with my friend: people become so jaded about sex that they forget what it's for in the first place. But I seriously doubt that people even really understood "what it's for in the first place" to begin with. People can't forget things they never knew. I'm just grateful I do know it...and grateful that some wonderful guy who knows it too will take me to the temple someday, and we can get started on our eternal work, together.

It does make life frustrating sometimes though. I live with the knowledge that I am meant to be like God perpetually on my mind. Sometimes it’s pushed to the back, and that's why I need Christ; He brings it closer to the front. But it’s always there. This brings my life to such a higher plane, and I love it that way. But what I find so hard to understand is why so many people live beneath their privileges. I know, from experience, what it’s like to live “lower on the graph”, to use my analogy from earlier. Why would anyone ever do that by choice?? Again, it’s taking something amazing – like WHO YOU ARE INHERANTLY MEANT TO BE – and cheapening it by focusing on the negative and distracting from the positive. I am far from perfect in this regard, but I struggle on a daily basis to change my life so that it perfectly fits with Heavenly Father’s idea of How To Become Like God 101. And it kills me to have to wonder if other people are trying to do that, too, whether it’s my family or my friends or that guy I might like to date if he would just shape up, fer cryin’ out loud.

Really, it just shows how important it is for me to be a good person. If I’m doing good things, I have the Holy Spirit in my life. Since these people are in my life too, they’re bound to rub elbows with the Holy Spirit a bit. Also, by living close to God, I have a better perspective. My favorite thing about this summer is how much I have learned about seeing people as God sees them. He knows their endless potential, and if I try really hard, and squint a little, I can see it too. The moment I realize how superb they truly are, there’s this rush of love that pours out from my heart, toward them. No, I don’t understand their exact purpose in life, or know their life story. That’s God’s job. I’m just grateful to catch a tiny glimpse of how that crazy messed-up mortal, who bears the seed of divinity, will bloom into someone like Heavenly Father someday.

And, every now and then, I catch that same glimpse of myself. Those moments make everything, ever, worthwhile. They are when I can finally give everything I have and am and do to God. It’s like if your dad asks you for some nails and a board. You were going to make a birdhouse with them, since but he’s got the know-how and supplies to build a mansion out of it, you hand them over. And that mansion, because you added those nails and that board, is especially for you.

That, all that, is what I know to be true. I say it in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

lessons in dating

2010-08-07T01:08:00.001-06:00

I better understand why guys reject me when I grow some backbone and reject them.

And, you know how people say you marry who you date? Well, you date who you befriend. Or, at least, the kind of guy you befriend. Hmm.

P.S.

2010-07-31T22:54:00.002-06:00

And Sara? Escapism is a perfectly acceptable solution in small portions. Just think how refreshing it was to watch Lara Croft, so that you didn't have to think so much. And you felt so much better afterwards!

Note to self:

2010-07-31T22:28:00.000-06:00

Being extremely preoccupied with something I can't control is not an excuse to pout.

It's a reason to get crackin' on something I CAN control.

It makes me happy when I...

2010-07-30T19:42:00.000-06:00

...make "real food."
...spend time outside.
...give really good advice.
...am responsible about paying my bills.
...listen to uplifting music.
...read the scriptures.
...clean my kitchen.
...think realistically - but positively - about situations in my life.
...call my dad.
...write clever and pithy things.
...pray.

Bitter and Elitist...

2010-07-30T12:15:00.002-06:00

Being a recent transplant, I’m always looking for ways to make my new life in the Salty City feel a little more like home. That’s why when a friend invited me to go swing dancing, I didn’t ask when or where - I just said yes.

Turns out, U of U’s swing club hosts a free dance every Thursday starting at 9. The free lesson starts at 8, if you've never done it before, or if you’re like me and forget everything when faced with a new (and/or attractive) partner. Yes, two years of swing dancing and I still worry I’ll embarrass myself.

I shouldn’t have worried so much.

Described as a whole, I’d term the event as “socially-awkward”. Don’t get me wrong! Some of the people were nice, some of them were cute, some of them were even employed(!). But there’s a certain charisma you need on the dance floor in order to not come off as a skeeze, guy or girl. And nobody had it.

Dancing is the human body made into art, and put into motion, you know? This was more like taking the David and rolling it downhill. Body? Check. Art? Check. Motion? Check. BUT WHY THE HECK ARE YOU DOING THAT TO A MICHELANGELO????

You’re probably thinking, “Oh come on, Sara! You can’t compare a free university event to a classic sculpture.” And you know what? You’re right. I guess I got what I paid for. But I just couldn’t get over how uncomfortable the whole thing was.

Bless your collective heart, U of U. Let's stick to football in the future.

What do you think, SLC? How do you keep dancing classy? Where do you go to get your groove on? Must "free" always mean "lame"?

Sara Lord always gets over it, and finds hope in that today.

2010-07-26T18:19:00.001-06:00

Jan. 31:
Sara Lord hears a call to arms.

Feb. 2
Sara Lord thinks -- hopes -- she'll look back on this and say, "Hey...that was actually really cool."

Sara Lord ‎: hmm. Well, okay then.

Sara Lord ‎'s cell phone is much quieter now.

Feb. 3
Sara Lord ‎: After 2 months of this mess, I think it's officially in the running for "Most Epic Miscommunication Ever." Ouch.

Sara Lord couldn't tell that she was secretly p&%$#-off until she realized how loud her headphones were.

Feb. 4
Sara Lord has many tears left to shed...but she is simultaneously too exhaused to cry and too exhausted to make herself be numb.

Feb. 6
Sara Lord figured out the problem: she's a grown woman who believes in fairy tales.

Feb. 9
Sara Lord won't know for sure how she's doing for probably another month. Ask her then.

Feb. 10
Sara Lord has lost too many good things because she needed them to be better.

Feb. 13
Sara Lord just keeps pushing forward, 'cause she doesn't know what else to do.

Feb. 23
Sara Lord begins to see that no matter how hard it was making those mistakes, it was essential. Past mistakes prevent her from making even BIGGER mistakes in the future.

Mar. 11
Sara Lord has the blues tonight. You'd think she'd be over it by now, as it's over a month later. C'est la vie... :-P

Sara Lord ‎: when you see my face / hopes it gives you...

Mar. 16
Sara Lord ‎: smiling-and-sweet meets chip-on-her-shoulder. It's a good day today.

Sara Lord is a future mother in Zion. Boneheads need not apply.

Mar. 29
Sara Lord is still figuring things out.

Apr. 8
Sara Lord jaded [jey-did], adjective. 1. Worn out, wearied, exhausted or lacking enthusiasm, due to age or experience. 2. Made callous, cynically insensitive, or even conceited, by experience or age.

Apr. 13
Sara Lord ‎: "Give me patience to wait until I can understand it for myself."

June 2
Sara Lord ‎: I don't know, but I believe in yesterday and what it means to bleed and know that you're OK.

I'm so grateful that I'm over him. You know, I'm not even really mad about it anymore, which is kind of a big deal, 'cause I was soooo angry at the time. Another 6 months and it will be just another funny, oh-Sara-you-should-have-known-better story. Rock on.

Inevitable

2010-07-19T00:28:00.000-06:00

Giving God your life doesn't mean that you don't want anything that He didn't prescribe.

It means that you accept the pain that will INEVITABLY come, without questioning His love for you when it does.

I'm in pain right now, a dull haunting lonely ache that says I am a long way from home. However, just knowing that I have a home is a beautiful thing.

There will always be dangers to loving people...but that's not going to stop me. Not anymore.

I'll tell you what I want, what I really, really want

2010-07-07T00:04:00.000-06:00

Telling people what I think they want to hear makes me crazy.

Sharing my feelings honestly yet sensitively makes me happy.

"Oh friend, I don't want to criticize you! I just worry that..."

"I'm sad that _____. But I love you and will be interested in and supportive of what you love."

This is so much better than trying to agree with people and make them happy when really, I don't agree with them at all!

If you can't beat 'em, join 'em

2010-07-06T17:05:00.000-06:00

Attempting to control all of my circumstances makes me crazy.

Choosing who I am going to be makes me happy.

Swearing I will never make brownies ever, ever again? Crazy. Saying to myself, "I don't want to be that person," and having a salad? Happy.

Scratching friends off the list because they stress me out sometimes? Crazy. Deciding that Heavenly Father kinda designed me to be "the mom" right now? Happy.

Throwing my computer at the wall in disgust and never looking at facebook again? Crazy. Exercising because I'm tired of sitting in the same place? Happy.

Who I am right now does not have to be who I am in the long run. Some things will progress toward the better. Some things will change, not because they were bad, but rather because something else was needed, and I could offer it.

I graduate in five and a half months. (oh boy, that makes me feel faint.) That creates a lot of Big Decisions, which will determine the circumstances I am in. But I don't think who the Lord wants me to become will change very much based on where I work or live. He will shape me as He always has, and I will do my best to let Him.

Growing

2010-06-30T14:02:00.002-06:00

That, readers, is a tomato.

One afternoon not so long ago, Laurie was bored, and a little sad. We rejected the idea of increased caloric intake and batted around a few alternatives. Then gardening came up. Suddenly, we found ourselves perusing the garden center for pea plants. And bell pepper. And basil. And zucchini. And yellow squash. And thyme. And two kinds of tomatoes (little ones for salad, big ones for sandwiches!)

We returned home, my lap and Laurie's back seat smelling of dirt and green. That was only the beginning. Laurie and I transplanted the little plants into our new, long pots (amid gunshot-like shrieks and "LAURIE! You CAN'T freak out like that when there's a spider!"). I loved getting dirt on my hands and researching how to take care of the little guys. I felt like I'd adopted a baby.

Laurie remembers to water them, thank goodness. I spent about an hour today staking the pea plants (they don't look very healthy with so many dried out leaves, but the little searching tendrils and tiny buds totally attest to their growth). I've also grown tomatoes before -- thank you, Dad -- so I knew that the little flower that was there when we bought the plant meant we'd have a tomato soon. It's the one pictured above.

I was skeptical when Laurie and I bought these plants. If it wasn't for Cindy, who is marvelous at plants, I would have killed many a houseplant. I just don't remember to water the darn things. I thought I was born for cacti, but not so. The wonderful thing about a real garden is once you get the darn thing started, you get attached. "Is that tomato ripe yet?" "I thought I saw a bud on that pepper plant..." "The basil plant is just PRETTY." You remember it more.

I know the whole my-life-as-a-garden thing has been done about a million times. But I really hope that in watching this garden grow with very little help from me, I can learn to step back and let good things happen, rather than assuming they won't happen unless I force them.

I kinda want to name my plants. Too bad I have two tomato plants. They can't both be Bob.

GMH

2010-06-11T18:30:00.000-06:00

I love knowing that if I ever felt like trying to be a good person, or life in general, was too much work, an entire mob of people would appear to offer their love.

Friendship gives me hope.

www.givesmehope.com

Things I'm Grateful for Today:

2010-06-03T22:22:00.000-06:00

Callie. She came over at about 6 and we had dinner and dessert and just talked and talked and talked until almost 10. After a week without a single familiar face, she saved my life today. It was sooo good to see her, and fun to talk about my trip to Europe and her trip to Canada. And about Doctor Who. And Rexburg. And life. Just what I needed.

My new residence. It's a cute house all by itself, blue with a little yard. But it's also got a nice back yard, and a firepit, and a swing, and a grill. Let's not forget that it's in a cute quiet neighborhood with a little park. Or that Winco, Cafe Rio, and Kohls are practically in walking distance. And downtown Salt Lake is only 20 minutes away. I can't believe I get all this for only $350 a month. Blessings, what??

Facebook. I know, I know. But for the time being, facebook is my primary method of contact with the people I love most. It's nice to have that connection, as tenuous as it is.

Day One

2010-05-31T11:11:00.010-06:00

My strongest instinct right now is to run. Just run, straight back to Rexburg.

It's the same feeling I had the first day of my Euro-trip. Our tour directors sent us out to explore Galway. I linked on to a group of about ten people (far too large for travel, by the way) and we wandered the streets of a touristy little Irish city. At first, my bravado propelled me into a flippant leadership role: "I don't know if this is the right way, but what have we got to lose? Let's try it!" The other ten girls complied easily enough. However, as the shops thinned out, so did my bravado. We turned around.

I spent the remainder of the trip as a ready and willing follower, and the remainder of the day as an anxious small-town American.While Galway isn't huge, it was still formidable to my Oxford, North Carolina and Rexburg, Idaho sensibilities. The rub of people and streets in big cities blisters those sensibilities very quickly.

So, Salt Lake is reminding me of that right now. I miss familiar faces. I have said goodbye far too many times in the last week: the 40 other pilgrims, my parents, my sister and her family, Tim, Natalie, Chelsea, and finally my little brother this morning. Joe has been the PERFECT roadtrip companion, so parting ways at the airport almost provoked tears. It didn't help any that he took the GPS with him. I hate finding my way around. I don't know where the nearest gas station is, where to look for apartments, OR how to navigate all the blasted construction. The only thing I know is that the little town that holds my best friends is straight north on I-15.

However, that is not the path I intend to take.

Like the clothing and toiletries and electronics waiting on my bed, I carefully lay out all of the reasons I'm not on my way to Idaho right now. Inconvenience is a big one, seeing as it's a 3 or 4 hour drive. My dignity is another. I know they wouldn't mind, but as hard as today is, I would be humiliated to suddenly hurl myself back into Tim, Natalie, and Chelsea's arms.

These factors helped me to stay in Europe, too. You can imagine how inconvenient it would have been to turn around and fly home again. And how ridiculous I would have looked to unexpectedly arrive at the door of Kensington 205, while the pilgrimage went on without me. And yet, I think the real motivation for staying in Europe is the same one that will keep me here in Utah. Now that I've worked through a few panicked compulsions, I remember that I do, in fact, have a sense of adventure.

This brassy streak, like a thread of gold through cooler-hued stone, is a valuable and sometimes subtle aspect of my personality. It's the fight response beneath the flight. It inspires me to be excited about my 3pm appointment to inspect an apartment. It reminds me that I looked forward to this internship as a prospect of impressing professionals in my chosen field. It's the same thread of "shining dawn", to translate the Latin, that made the hole-in-the-wall hostel in Galway endearing. There, I made an amusing video of the labyrinthine path up to my room. Here, I write an exploratory blog post. And in both places, I try to hear Tim's voice in my head, telling me that I'm brave. It's a good thing I can hear it in my head, or I might run away to Rexburg to hear it in person.

But no. I sit here quietly and try to feel him patting me on the back, and to you, readers, I echo his words:

It's okay, Sara. You're going to do just fine.

Thanks, Tim...maybe you're right.

Things That Made Me Happy Today

2010-04-13T00:37:00.001-06:00

1. Learning about a hierarchy of literary value, ranging from the Truth to the Lie, with several degrees in between. Moral/ethical criticism is essential to consider, and by each person individually. (I, for instance, was very disturbed by The Picture of Dorian Gray and horrified by The Color Purple, yet found Heart of Darkness and Things Fall Apart very moving.)

2. A sweet thank-you note from my former supervisor, in response to the nice note I left for her on my last day of work. I'll really miss working for her; she's great.

3. Finding out that I know a lot more names of people who are going on the Brit Lit tour than I thought I did. Woot!

4. My outfit -- sooo classy. Trouser-cut jeans, kitten heels, t-shirt, blazer, necklace...mmm. Magnifique! Tres chic.

5. Calisthenics. Turns out, our morning exercises for class actually include exercises. I have no idea why I don't play sports...working out is so much fun!

6. Submitting the following t-shirt designs:

The last one is my execution of someone else's idea. It's also possibly my favorite, partially because it best adheres to the requirements given.

7. Making a plan before I got too overwhelmed by everything I need to do.

8. Re-realizing that Tuesday means Sam and Friday means Natalie and Chelsea and Kevin!

9. Quoting The Lion King in my facebook status. I'm an equal-opportunity profundity-seeker.

10. Going to bed BEFORE I'm too exhausted to think. Buenos noches!

Goals

2010-01-01T11:00:00.000-07:00

Happy New Year, world!

This isn't going to be a very long post, and while I'd like to add more to it, we all know how often I actually write on my blog, heh.

Anyway.

In September, I bought a small white board, intending to put it on my refrigerator. When they said "magnetized", however, they didn't mean the board would stick to the fridge -- they meant magnets would stick to the board. So I stuck it on my wall in my room, and on a whim, wrote down my goals for the semester.

About 2/3 of the way though, these goals received an update and a reality check, and I'm okay with that. Especially because I am happy to report that I achieved ALL of them! Yes, all of them! I didn't even realize it until this morning when I was reassembling my room after white glove.

HOORAY! :)

2009-12-04T22:12:00.002-07:00

Selfishness is never going to be worth the hardship we endure. Unselfishness gives us purpose and makes it all worthwhile. Rather than daring to hope that I'll get what I want, I can dare to hope that I'll give what others need.

MY NEW CAMERA!!!

2009-11-27T18:26:00.004-07:00

http://www.walmart.com/catalog/product.do?product_id=10981668

I'm so stoked. But, as I pointed out to Natalie, I just started yet another long distance relationship: it should get here between the 3rd and the 8th of December.

Maybe the Lord is trying to teach me about delayed gratification...? ;)

EDIT: This is my 100th blog post! HUZZAH! If I remember right, I posted a dumb joke to commemorate my 50th blog post. Bwahahaha....

-What do you call a black airplane driver?
-I dunno, what?

-A pilot! What are you, racist?

Bah-dah CHING! Thank you, thank you...

Giving Thanks

2009-11-26T10:59:00.000-07:00

Kevin asked me yesterday, in a brief round of texting-truth-or-dare, what my biggest dream is.

"I don't know," I said. "I'm already getting most of them."

He laughed.

I insisted. "No, seriously! I'm going to Europe next summer. I'm graduating. This really great guy thinks it's awesome that he can make me smile without really trying."

Although my first thought was to worry that I'm running out of ambitions, but given the season, I'll take a more optimistic view. When did my life get so awesome that I started running out of things to hope for? And furthermore, how on earth did I miss that??

I've had a wonderful week or two, full of moments when I have realized just how good Heavenly Father is to me. The gospel of Jesus Christ is true. Joseph Smith was a prophet. The scriptures are the word of God. And Heavenly Father loves me.

I have always wanted to travel. Always. I just never thought I'd be cool enough to do it. That's all changing this summer. That's right, friends: my application to go on the British Literary Pilgrimage has been officially ACCEPTED. There's a lot of work ahead of me, like getting my passport, figuring out the academic part of my trip, and getting my student loans finalized. But STILL. I'M GOING.

God is good. The end.

Integrity and Humility in Résumés

2009-11-05T14:44:00.000-07:00

In the name of “marketing ourselves” on our résumés, we are often tempted to present our strengths as greater than they are. We oversimplify the situation and ask “to market?” or “not to market?”, seeking an obvious answer that provides justification for inflating our abilities. But this internal sic et non disregards an essential quandary: will our guiding principle be integrity, or merely persuasiveness?

When we overlook this question, it is not inevitably because we are morally corrupt people. In reality, we tend to ignore it because we are afraid—afraid that others will notice that our weaknesses exist, afraid that those weaknesses will be perceived as so great that our skills will be discounted. In short, we fear that who we really are is not enough to persuade an employer to hire us. The temptation to disguise and deceive proves most appealing when we do not trust others to witness our shortcomings with a merciful eye. We forget that others, like us, are weak, and assume that they exemplify every strength that we wish we had, except for one: the capacity to forgive.

However, C. S. Lewis suggests in The Screwtape Letters that we ought to give ourselves the same approbation we would give to others for comparable greatness. When we do so, we both recognize our own worth and also see how indispensably others have contributed to it. The opportunities that demonstrate we are valuable people are not of our creation; they are given to us by others. Our power only extends to our ability to collect the courage we need in order to receive the opportunities they offer. When we do so without resisting the forgiveness of others, or concealing our weaknesses, we discover that we are “magnified”. Our weaknesses do not fade into the background, but rather our potential employers can at last see us “up close”, swarming with strengths so potent that few (even ourselves) have ever observed anything like it. In light of these unforeseen abilities, there is essentially nothing to forgive.

Yes, a detailed, honest view of who we are is frightening to put forward. Unlike fiction, there is no safe place in writing résumés. There are no pseudonyms offering concealment, no images to symbolize lingering emotional aches. All we have is who we are, but on closer inspection, we finally find that this is enough. When we truly understand that we have the capacity to exceed expectations and not just meet them, we have the freedom to be honest regarding our shortcomings. In order to have the courage to be humble, we must first display our inherent power to achieve.

Plane pictures :)

2009-11-05T14:32:00.001-07:00

This is the plane I rode on with my bishop's wife, Teri. (That's her in the picture, picking up one end of the plane. It was TINY!)

This is me on the plane. (Notice the big smile.)

And this is the view from the plane. (Now you see the reason for the big smile!)

"You want to be happy. There are more important things to do."

2009-10-20T14:10:00.005-06:00

Isn't it interesting how the most confident, charming people you know are also the ones who most need reassurance?

In my Theories of Personality class, we just finished our unit on Carl Jung. What fascinated me most about Jung's theories is his concept of the Ego and the Shadow. The Ego is what we consciously recognize about ourselves -- often, how we define ourselves. The Shadow, on the other hand, is what we are, but only subconsciously. When traits are very strongly in the Ego, that usually means that the opposing trait is very strongly in the Shadow as well. People are made up of both Ego AND Shadow, and Jung theorized that when we stand between the two and make our choices, recognizing the pull of the other side, we are most psychologically healthy.

A brief example, just for understanding: A guy goes to a hockey game and in a dispute related to nothing more monumental than the game, kills another man. He never recognized the Shadow -- his ability to kill someone else -- and so the choice not to act on the Shadow impulse never came up until it was too late.

That said, the Shadow isn't necessarily bad. For example, a few of years ago, my Ego was a shy, reserved, quiet girl; my Shadow was a gregarious goofball. Somewhere along the way, the two have switched. On the inside, I AM a shy, hesitant person. I am! You'd never know that looking from the outside in, however, and I recognize that.

This leads me to the true point of this post...that perhaps the people whose company I crave, the people who are so clearly chatty and energetic, may also be the people who most need me to show them that I love them. In the same way that I am not so healthy, happy, and fulfilled as I may seem, perhaps my friends who seem to have it all figured out really don't.

This, then, is an invitation for me to take care of them, even when it doesn't seem like they're the ones who need to be taken care of. I'm best at pretending not to need help when I most want it; why would I assume that they're different?

It's also an invitation for me to think before I whine. I have lately wished that the men in my life were more consistent. Sometimes I feel like I'm riding a swing set, where "to" is when they are affectionate, attentive, and sweet, and "fro" is when I feel ignored, overlooked, and disconnected.

"I'm so mad at -----," I told Natalie recently. "He won't stop being nice to me!"

"How dare he!" Natalie quipped, trying not to roll her eyes. "Kick him in the shins!"

Of course I don't actually mind when men are nice to me. What bothers me in the inconsistency...that I enjoy the over-the-top niceness, but then I have to deal with being ignored. I'd much rather someone was moderately nice to me all the time.

But, as I also learned in my Personality class, there are more important things than being happy, such as (according to Adler) helping other people. I should probably stop worrying so much about how inconsistent other people are, and start taking a risk by being a consistent person for other people. The stress in our lives only exists when we consider it stressful...so maybe I should consider other people, and not think much of my stress at all.

Food for thought.

---
Hearing: Jennifer, talking about monthly Girls Night! :)
Feeling: wondering if I can actually do what I've just blogged about actually

Honesty and Obstacles to Education: English 495 Senior Writing Seminar Assignment

2009-10-19T10:27:00.009-06:00

Metaphor of the Day: Homework is like brushing your teeth. Kind of annoying, especially when you'd much rather go straight to bed...but let's face it. It's essential.

---

"Another reason people don’t use their real voice is that it means having feelings and memories they would rather not have. When you write in your real voice, it often brings tears or shaking – though laughter too. Using real voice may even mean finding you believe things you don’t wish to believe. For all these reasons, you need to write for no audience and to write for an audience that’s safe. And you need faith in yourself that you will gradually sort things out and that it doesn’t matter if it takes time." (Peter Elbow, "How to Get Power through Voice")

My understanding of this assignment was that we were to discover what our core obstacle was to getting an education, and discuss it with full honesty. I’ve struggled with this assignment. I know what my core obstacle is...I just don’t want to talk about it. So after missing several deadlines, I met with Brother Ward and frankly told him that he didn’t know what he was asking of me. I survive by compartmentalizing my emotions; I succeed academically by removing my heart. Honesty is a hard thing to commit to, regardless of the venue.

Palmer states, “The goal of a knowledge arising from love is the reunification and reconstruction of broken selves and worlds.” That would be really, really nice – and I think, or hope, that it’s true. As I have learned more about myself – through professional counseling; wise, genuine friends; and an aching, downtrodden reach toward my Savior – I have learned the power of honestly acknowledging shortcomings.

Sometimes these shortcomings are our fault – sometimes not. That is not the point. We must confess the deficiencies that make up so much of our characters, so that the Savior can change our characters. “Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative and creation, there is one elementary truth, the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans. It is this: The moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves you,” states Murray. As we have discussed in class, we must deeply understand the problem before the truth of the solution will become compelling.

I cried as I sat in Brother Ward’s office, while in the act of explaining that I intentionally muffle my emotions. On one hand, I did so because I was frustrated with my failure. But on the other hand, I cried because it felt so good to look the truth in the eye and confess that I was simply not up to the challenge. Individually, we don’t have to be up to the challenge of our own emotional disconnection, in our educations or otherwise. All we have to do, at least to get started, is to acknowledge that our disconnection exists, and ask for help.

---
Hearing: let's see how far we've come / let's see how far we've come
Feeling: a little overwhelmed, but OK

Now

2009-10-16T22:42:00.005-06:00

Metaphor of the Day: Dancing is like the rain. There's no being good at it --there's just loving it and letting it come.

---

Every now and then, I realize how much of my life I've already lived. I have had so many good things happen in my life. I LOVE college. But all of these moments...I'm not ever going to have them back. I'm never going to have Fall '08 (the Zion semester) ever again. I'll never have the experience of learning to lindy-hop again. Or my 21st birthday. Or Cindy's wedding.

Why on earth do we live our lives, unwilling to take risks? This is all we have! There is SO much to love...why would we ever waste our time on something we only liked, or someone who didn't love us in return?

So, here's a promise I make to myself for when I'm 45 and my children are just beginning to really live their lives: I will have lived my life too. Especially because I suspect (well, hope) that it's only going to get better from here.

---
Hearing: swing music. I love this stuff.
Feeling: weekendish

opportunity

2009-10-01T09:32:00.004-06:00

Metaphor of the Day: Being honest when you don't want to is like wearing flip-flops in the snow. It seems fun for a minute, and maybe you even pretend it's more fun than it is. But, in the end, it's neither practical or comfortable.

---

I have been praying very carefully lately:

Father, please, if an opportunity comes, help me to act on it. And Father...if an opportunity never comes...help me to be OK with it.

Sometimes, I have a hard time being honest with God. Cognitively, I know how crazy that is -- He's God, He knows everything anyway! Feeling that is another matter, of course, but I'm trying.

---
Hearing: hairdryer
Feeling: a little rushed...

Plan B

2009-09-26T01:39:00.005-06:00

Metaphor of the Day: Following the Lord's plan / timing is like getting your second choice of unlabeled chocolate, and then finding out it was your favorite after all.

---

I believe in finding happiness in plan B.

This is a very recent development. So many of my prayers are whiny because I'm not getting what I had in mind. But I'm starting to realize that the choice typically isn't "what I want" vs. "what I don't want"...the choice is often between being disappointed, and being happy with reality.

Example: last night, my crowd went to Acoustic Cafe, to be supportive of Natalie (who was one of the people in charge) and hear some fun music. Afterwards, I was faced with two options: go to ballroom dancing with Tim and Glen, or go to Snow Shack with Natalie and some of her friends, who I don't really know. I wanted to hang out with T&G, but not at ballroom. I wanted to go to Snow Shack, but not with people I didn't know.

In the end I went with Natalie (I like her better anyway ;) ) and had a fantastic time! Casey and his roommate Bryce were fun and talkative and didn't think it was weird that we wanted to chill at the park, and then wander around the student gallery of the art building. I love hanging out with men! They're so chill.

At any rate, I had a great time regardless of the fact that in a way, it wasn't what I wanted. This is a metaphor for my life, I think. I'd like to learn to roll with the punches a little better. :)

---
Hearing: Natalie and Snow Patrol
Feeling: sunshiny

The End

2009-09-05T21:43:00.005-06:00

Metaphor of the Day: Living your life one day at a time is like choosing to be executed by drowning in chocolate. You just gotta enjoy it while it lasts, man.

---

Summer Session is coming to a close. Although classes do not start until Thursday, roommates will begin to arrive on Monday. I couldn't be more excited to see Natalie and Chelsea and Rio and Jennifer, and get to know our new roommate (Callie?)...not to mention all of the fabulous neighbors that will be back in town. But at the same time, I wish summer would never end.

Seven weeks ago, I knew I desperately needed to rejuvenate. I intentionally didn't set any goals...I was going to play hard and love hard and take things one day at a time. (Yes, those sound a lot like goals, but they're so different from my typical stress-inducing ones that nonetheless, they are un-goals in my head.) I don't know how well I've done with any of that, but I do think I am ready to go back to school-life with a new perspective on this strange thing we call life.

Taking life moment-by-moment is still the way to go, especially because sometimes being sad and being happy are the same thing.

Classes are not what life is all about. It's about those moments when you know you're home.

Love is scary, and a lot of work, but if anything is worth feeling like a cold, lonely miner tapping away at the rock with a little pickax, looking for something to keep -- this is it.

---
Hearing: the dishwasher and the air conditioner. Profound, no?
Feeling: A little lonesome, but mostly just enjoying the time to reflect

Getting the Glow

2009-08-23T17:58:00.007-06:00

Metaphor of the Day: Women are like sunflowers -- they reflect the brightness that they follow.

---

Lately, I've been considering the influence of women for good in the lives of those who surround them. I'm essentially receiving a scholarship based on my ability to be a good example. I taught Relief Society recently and we talked about, well, Relief Society. I've been doing a lot of thinking about what it is to love people for exactly who they are, weaknesses and all. The cover story of the most recent Ensign (September issue, actually) is a article from President Uchtdorf on -- get this -- The Influence of Righteous Women. Needless to say, it's been pretty constantly on my mind.

I think what really sealed the deal was an observation from a friend of mine. He basically said that a lot of girls are pretty, and nice, but with the really quality ones that he would actually date, there has to be something extra...something that has nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with how in tune she is with the Spirit. Christ's-image-in-her-countenance kind of thing.

At first, I thought this statement was simply to his credit -- that he's looking for a girl with that "something extra" that means she will be an excellent mother in Zion. But then I realized: his statement could also be to my discredit, if I don't measure up. He's far too sweet to criticize me, so I know he didn't mean it like that, but still, it made me wonder. Do I have that glow? Can people -- worthy priesthood holders included -- tell just by looking at me that I deeply love the Savior?

I suspect not. There's so much more I could be doing to bring the Spirit into my life. Once upon a time, I read my scriptures and wrote in my journal every single day. I worked really hard to build that habit, but where is it now? Things like that. My life is off-center, so to speak.

So, in an effort to recenter my life on the Savior, I spent some time today brainstorming what I can do to be better...

Daily
Study the scriptures
Pray always, with sincerity
Meditate
Write in my journal, especially with gratitude
Go for a walk -- be outside -- find God in nature. (Very transcendentalist, I know.)
Sing / listen to excellent music
Serve! There's a thousand little ways to do it; I just need to be alert.
Keep my apartment clean. You'd be amazed how much it helps!
Exercise. Just something small every day -- enough that I can get to sleep at night!

Weekly
Go to the temple
Prepare for Sundays by reading the lesson, etc.
Create something -- write or something. Just allow God to show me what it's like to be Him.

Generally
Ask Heavenly Father tough questions -- "what do I need to change?" etc. Ask for forgiveness.
Silence what I want because of a need to know what He wants. Stop whining!

Here's the thing though. To quote the aforementioned article from President Uchtdorf, "I invite you to rise to the great potential within you. But don't reach beyond your capacity. Don't set your goals beyond your capacity to achieve. Don't feel guilty or dwell on thoughts of failure. ...Do the best you can, and the Lord will provide the rest."

In other words, I may know that my ideal day involves an hour of reading the scriptures and my ideal week involves going to the temple 3 or 4 times ... but I also know that it ain't gonna happen any time soon. With this in mind, I'm contemplating some realistic goals for "getting the glow". Some things are naturally going to be easier than others, and don't seem like such a stretch to picture in the normal course of my life.

There's only 18 days left of the 7 week break (I'm not used to calling it Summer Session yet.) I promised myself I would take this break one day at a time and I think I've done a pretty good job of that. But I also think I need to take that idea to the next level and bring Jesus Christ deeper into my life one day at a time -- instead of just sitting around thinking about it.

---
Hearing: really old EFY music. Like, '97.
Feeling: chastened, but determined

Changes, Pt. 3: Single

2009-08-05T19:44:00.008-06:00

Metaphor of the Day: "Hope" is the thing with feathers / That perches in the soul-- / And sings the tune without the words-- / And never stops--at all--

Emily Dickinson

---

This blog is a resource for how I can be happy in spite of the stressful things in my life. Looking over the things about which I've written, I realize that so much has changed.

Even in just the last 3 months, I've learned an incredible amount -- particularly about forming healthy attachments. Due to some hard childhood stuff, I spend a lot of my time "emotionally snacking" in relationships, because not asking for a lot is much, much safer. On the other hand, when I finally feel safe with someone, I tend to "emotionally gorge". It's exhausting in its intensity, and unhealthy. My homework assignment: find the middle ground. I need to realize, essentially, that people aren't automatically going to be completely unreliable, and therefore it's OK for me to take risks. And even if they are unreliable, that's OK, because I can be emotionally satiated, not starving.

Sometimes, being single is hard. It's easy to blame a lack of dates on my body type, or my introversion, or what-have-you. It's easy to want a boyfriend because he would be a convenient, reliable resource of love. I'm learning, however, that I have a lot of resources for love: all of my roommates, many of my neighbors, my family, a handful of awesome guys, etc etc. So not only can I be single, I can enjoy it, because I am emotionally satisfied and not clamoring at one person to fill those needs. It's fabulous to realize.

On the other hand, I have this internal debate going about whether or not it's OK to need people. I try really, really hard to be a strong person; I try not to "need" people, whether that effort is subconscious or otherwise. When it comes down to it, yes, people just need people:

God does notice us, and he watches over us. But it is usually through another person that he meets our needs.

Spencer W. Kimball

But...you mean I have to rely on other people to help me, even though they may have no interest in doing so? What happens if I get used to them helping me, and then they stop? Where does that leave me? Well...it leaves me with a whole lot of other people who are willing and able to fill in the space. However, someday, aren't I supposed to learn how to love someone enough that they can't be replaced?

I took a close look at my soul the other day. Do I think I'm loveable? Do I really believe that someone is going to love me forever and ever, for just being me? The honest answer was -- no, I don't believe it. I think he'll leave before he gets a chance to see who I really am, deep down, flaws and all.

I hate thinking it's impossible to have that kind of love in my life. So I'm trying to do something about it. It feels a little like flailing around in the dark for a lightswitch that may or may not be there. Maybe the best I can do is a flashlight, or a candle. Whatever the case, I trust that the way will be made clear. Maybe it will be like being introverted -- it's something that never really goes away, but I found coping methods. Or maybe it will be like a sin, repented of, where I shed it like old skin and a new person is exposed, stronger, better, more like God.

I guess we'll just have to see?

---
Hearing: not a lot to lean on, I'm looking for a light to find my place in this world
Feeling: weary

Changes, Pt. 2: Measure of Beauty

2009-08-03T13:03:00.004-06:00

Metaphor of the Day: Being around a beautiful girl is like having a pet boa constrictor: a bit dangerous, but it's fun, so who cares?

---

This blog was to be a searchable, categorized resource for how I can be happy in spite of the stressful things in my life. Looking over the things about which I've written, I realize that so much has changed.

Some things, though, don't change that much.

The Long and Short of It

I still feel most like myself when I look in the mirror and see short hair. For one thing, I just have the face for it. For another thing, I've had short hair ever since I started thinking of myself as an adult. When I cut it short for the first time, I had recently acquired my first full-time job and was in the process of fading out of the Young Women's program and into singles' ward. I left home for the first time not long after that, to come to school in Idaho. My college friends have no concept of what I look like with long hair.

In short (no pun intended), a pixie haircut has become a part of who I am over the last three years. But at the same time, I have become who I am over the last three years. I'm a little scared to grow it out again, in the same way I was a lot scared to cut it short. What if it's just not me? I don't really have an answer to that.

I Could Not Ask for More

Another thing that hasn't changed very much is my concept of my body shape. Let's face it: I am not a tiny person. And sometimes, that's hard. I look at myself in the mirror sometimes and have to close my eyes. The mirror we keep in the hallway of our apartment stretches you just enough to be flattering, without you really noticing that it's doing it. You just feel attractive. There are days that I hate that mirror. I feel pretty when I look in it, but we all know it's lying. So am I not pretty?

I don't say this to throw myself a pity party. Every day I have to firmly say, Sara, stop comparing yourself to them, yes, but that doesn't mean I don't feel pretty a lot of the time. I try to take good care of myself. I could do better, be better, look better. But it could be a lot worse, too. I'm very healthy, so I have a lot to be grateful for. I just have to remind myself of that a lot.

To See or Not to See? That is the Question.

In addition, I discovered a couple of years ago that I simply have Really. Big. Eyes. It's mostly the whites of them that are big, but whatever the case, it's earned me a long-standing comparison with lemurs. I don't find the comparison to a lower primate to be particularly flattering, but I do enjoy that other people notice that I have big eyes. It's part of the Disney Princess standard of beauty.

It annoyed me for a long time that I wear glasses. Sure, they frame my eyes, but since I'm nearsighted, they also make my eyes look smaller. Why on earth would I want that?! Plus, I have no concept of what I actually look like without glasses. I toy with the idea of contacts for about two months out of every year ("toy with" here meaning "tell everyone I know that I am DEFINITELY going to get them this year").

This year is no different in that regard, but in another way, something has changed. Firstly, Cindy was a doll and did a photo shoot with me here in town; a few of the pictures included me without glasses. I like these pictures -- mostly. Secondly, I've met two particular girls. One is in my relief society, another was in a class. They, too, have ridiculously large eyes, but neither of them wear glasses. Looking at them, and at myself in these pictures, I'm not sure that Huge Eyeballs are the way to go. It's a little weird to look at the thing that you rejected out of vanity, and wonder if they might actually contribute to your appearance. I'm over contacts -- ask me again in a year.

What (Not) To Wear

When I first arrived in college, my personal style was a disaster. I was tired of hiding, so believe me, I didn't! My typical attire involved messy short hair, bright mismatched layers, drawn-on Converses (and jeans), the works! Cindy was wonderfully patient with me and my fashion choices, and so I gradually got over it. Then I worked in a very professional job for a year, and for a long time just really enjoyed collared shirts, skirts, slacks, neutral colors, and high heels.

My current style is a combination of the two extremes. I currently favor skirts with Converses, collared shirts, bright colors, and slightly messy hair. However, I also acknowledge that my personal style is not so personal at all; it is very much affected by the tastes of whomever I happen to be hanging out with most. This annoys me, but 2 Christmases ago Cindy wrote an entire short story for me to remind me that the people around us are just as much a part of who we are as the choices we actively make. So I try to be OK with it, and try to keep figuring out what I like best.

---

On my bathroom wall, I have a picture of Jesus. As silly and incongruous as it sounds, I made a speech bubble for him, written in marker:

"You are always beautiful to me."

All this post really says is that I don't know how to be happy in regards to my physical appearance. However, Christ's love for me is never unsure, never changes. So this is what I keep coming back to, in the end.

Affirmation: I Did Something With My Week

2009-08-02T20:14:00.008-06:00

I can just see it now.

"Sara! How was your week?"

"It was great!"

"Yeah? What did you do?"

"Ummmm. Nothing?"

"Oh..."

In order to avoid this embarrassment, this is what I did this week, for my own reference as much as for anyone else's curiosity:

Sunday: Church. Particularly, I got to see how church is going to work for the summer session: our stake is split in half, and each half is consolidated into one ward. Next week (as in the 9th), I get to teach Relief Society to a bunch of people I don't know. I'm not really bothered by this. Well, maybe just a teeny tiny bit.

Monday: Way fun FHE @ Brother Marshall's house. Just a barbeque and chatting -- including everyone there sharing their most embarrassing moment. Mine? First Sunday of ever being away to college, I bore my testimony in a Southern accent even though I don't really have one because the guys would think it was cute. Barf.

Tuesday: Wedding shopping with Ann and her mom in IF. We spent like 8 hours there, but we got a TON of stuff done, including finding Ann's dress! She is SO beautiful in it! Even more so than she is ordinarily, which is saying something. :)

Wednesday: Fasting. I learned amazing things that I'm trying to put into my life. Optimistically speaking, you can expect a post about it later. Pessimistically speaking, I might as well tell you know it's about love -- both giving and receiving.

Thursday, Friday and Saturday: A little bit of everything...

Helped tie bows on Ann's wedding announcements which was kind of a pain, but Ann is worth it!
Read Book 1 & 2 of Paradise Lost, which is astoundingly good, but also disconcerting since Satan is cast as this really cool epic character who you want to like.
Also watched a couple of movies, one of which is this allegorical kid's movie narrated by Ringo Starr. Random, I know! Oh, and I figured out what was wrong with the VCR all by myself. that was pretty cool.
Katelyn saved my life by hanging out with me instead of letting me talk to the walls.
Cleaned my apartment, which is always easier to do when you're dead bored.
And, as usual, goofed around on facebook.

Sunday: Church, of course. I gave my blog a makeover, as you can see. Also, the carpet cleaners are coming, as previously mentioned, so I relocated my entire living room into my tiny kitchen. Cindy, thank you for letting me hang on to your little fridge. It's the only reason I'm going to be able to eat tomorrow, since the big one is totally blocked off now.

Oi Vey.

2009-08-02T18:31:00.005-06:00

This WAS my living room. (Trash can for scale.) And this WAS my kitchen, until I moved everything all by myself. The carpet cleaners are coming...but I think I'd rather have dirty carpet.

Changes, Pt. 1: Introversion

2009-08-02T16:33:00.008-06:00

Metaphor of the Day: Introversion is like having to ask the participants of the Running of the Bulls to take a number and form an orderly line.

---

The original purpose of this blog was to be a searchable, categorized resource for how I can be happy in spite of the stressful things in my life. Looking over the things about which I've written, I realize that so much has changed. For example, introversion was once a huge part of my self-definition. Now, it has all but faded into the background.

Two years ago, I rejoiced in knowing that God made me an introvert on purpose, no matter how hard that might be for me sometimes:

"O my Lord, I am not eloquent, neither heretofore, nor since thou hast spoken until thy servant: but I am slow of speech, and of a slow tongue."

"Who hath made man's mouth? or who maketh the dumb, or deaf, or the seeing, or the blind? have not I the LORD?"

Now, I relate better to John Mayer:

My stupid mouth / got me in trouble; / I said too much again / to a date over dinner yesterday...

There are still days when I'm "peopled-out". It's still not easy for me to meet new people, or strike up a conversation with mere acquaintances. And there are people in my circle of friends with whom I will probably never deeply connect, because we are both more inclined to listen than to talk.

The biggest change, then, is that all of this bothers me so much less than it used to. I firmly believe that we can overcome weaknesses. This isn't to say that someday our weaknesses will -poof!- cease to exist. Rather, we can learn methods to get around them, so much so that our weaknesses just don't matter anymore.

If men come unto me, I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble, and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me, for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them.

You don't have to knock down a wall to get to the other side. You just need the Savior.

2009-01-28T00:43:00.003-07:00

1. I've been ward FHE coordinator for three semesters in a row, and I still don't feel like I'm very good at it. But, if this is where the Lord wants me, this is where I will stay.

2. I prefer to drink out of plastic cups because I think water tastes funny out of a glass cup. Most people tell me that's backwards.

3. I enjoy purple Sweethearts (you know, the kind of candy they sell around Valentines) even though I don't like artificial grape flavor, and I don't really like Sweethearts in general. I'm full of contradictions. ;)

4. In my life, I have wanted to be an artist, a teacher, a ballerina, a singer, a doctor, a psychologist, a massage therapist, a writer, and a mom "when I grow up".

5. I love having my toenails painted -- sparkly hot pink has become the signature color for them.

6. In my heart-of-hearts, I really, really want to travel. I want to see ALL OVER Europe, and visit South and Central America, and go to Jerusalem. Among other places. I'd love to be one of those people who goes on an AMAZING vacation every couple of years.

7. I crave intellectual conversation (about the gospel, relationships, books, psychology, etc., etc., etc.) like plants crave water in a drought. Especially about the gospel -- I love re-realizing how GOOD Heavenly Father is to me in His infinite kindness and intelligence. He's so much smarter than I am.

8. I love being funny, even if it means I don't always make sense to people. There are few things more delightful than a well-timed pun!

9. It's one of my goals to have childlike delight every day. Sunrises, sunsets, trees, snow, and thunderstorms leave me in awe -every- time.

10. I don't really enjoy watching TV, and I despise TV as background noise. I can handle about an hour once or MAYBE twice a week, and it has to meet some pretty grueling criteria -- well-written premise, fascinating characters, and intriguing plot, among other things. Oh, and amazing people to watch it with, of course.

11. If you were to tell me in high school that I would grow up to become the person I am now, I wouldn't believe you because it would have sounded too good to be true.

12. I have no concept of what I look like without my glasses. I've worn glasses since 5th grade, and my sight is bad enough that I can't really see myself in the mirror when I'm not wearing them. This is one of many reasons I would like to try contacts.

13. I think my eyes are my best feature, but after many years, I have gradually grown to love the parts of my appearance that I am most self-conscious about. This never ceases to delight me!

14. I miss having freckles on my face, but I love having them on my shoulders.

15. About a year and a half ago, I realized that I'm a sucker for guys who play guitar, speak Spanish, and look good with facial hair. Those are purely physical attraction kind of things, although there are reasons behind them.

16. I love the cold. Negative temperatures are just a little bit silly, I admit (after all, who wants frozen nose hair?) but there's just something delightful about foggy breathing, invigorating chill, and the way the whole world gets quiet. Did I mention that I find childlike delight in these kinds of things?

17. I love to sing. Part of what I look for in the music I listen to is whether or not I can sing along to it. It's a real challenge for me to listen to music without singing with it, and it's pretty obvious if I have a song going through my head. I apologize ahead of time if I have just one line stuck. ;)

18. Heights make me really nervous. It's not so much the idea of falling that gets me as the idea of stepping out into all that nothing. The third floor of my apartment complex gets to be a little bit, and yet I love rollercoasters.

19. I'm excited to be a mom. I had a hard time paying attention in devotional today because the girl sitting across the aisle had a *brand* *new* baby in her lap. A newborn baby is the cutest, tiniest little alien you will ever see.

20. Even though I don't feel like I fit in with my family, I love them a TON.

21. I can't decide whether or not I like ninjas or pirates better. Ninjas are stealthy but pirates are hot AND literary. I'm convinced that Chuck Norris will reconcile the two forces.

22. I have friends that DEEPLY ANNOY ME, but I find them so fun to talk to that I remain friends with them anyway. This simultaneously amuses me and makes me feel like a terrible person.

23. I'm very cautious about sharing the sad things in my life -- not because I mind sharing, but rather because I'm not seeking pity. Parts of my life have been really hard, and I want people to understand how I've become the person that I am, but I also want them to understand that I have a beautiful life.

24. I love to cook -- my roommates are constantly amazed by my ability to throw things together. However, as an sometimes lazy and often creative person, I lack the precision to easily follow recipes.

25. It's my goal in life to live fully, in love with life every day. I used to say "fine" when people asked me how I was doing; now I say "pretty much amazing!" and I've come to realize that it's true. I have come to see the value of stepping back and looking at the big picture. Even when the details are hard,my life as a whole is a stunning creation of a loving God.

26. I have a hard time expressing my opinion honestly when it's negative. I want to be seen as a positive person, and I don't want to start a conversation by disagreeing with another's opinion without knowing it.

2009-01-24T13:37:00.002-07:00

Most of the time, I'm really OK with being an introvert. It's taken me a long time to be able to say that, but it's true.

Every now and then, though, it really gets on my nerves.

I am an interesting, funny, intellectual, awesome person. (I'm not trying to be arrogant, just honest.) But when I am nervous and stressed and trying to be social, all of my brain cells leak out of my head and I revert back to being the shy, quiet, anxious girl I was 5 years ago. The obvious solution to this is to just quit being nervous, but just how do you go about doing that?

I've heard a lot of suggestions, but haven't quite managed to take many (if any) to heart. Maybe that's my problem. Maybe I ought to go out on a limb and just do what comes to mind and accept that things won't always be easy or come naturally.

To Do

2009-01-06T21:57:00.003-07:00

I've been promising myself I'll write a new blog post (which was almost combined to be "blost", whatever that is.) There's been a lot on my mind lately, but the things that have put a lot on my mind haven't left me a whole lot of energy.

Take the impromptu party I had on Sunday, for example. It quickly went from a little dinner of three to a toast to the New Year with nine. Five of the nine were guys. The grand total for the evening was 12 different people in my apartment, all of them to see me, at least in part. It was some intense business, but I went to bed wishing they could have stayed.

I thought all last semester that I had just too many friends. This semester is shaping up to be much along the same lines, at least. But it's also different, too. I can't even tell you how many times I've prayed, Lord, what do you want me to do here? So when I started to feel like the Lord handed me a To Do list that said "Be social, but don't forget Me" on it, it was...interesting. I mean, it wasn't my idea to stay in Rexburg for the winter. I feel like I'm tempting fate a little bit to be so excited to be here, but then I'm supposed to find joy in obedience, right?

I don't know -- I don't feel like I'm being terribly coherant, but that's what the inside of my brain is like right now. Basically I'm excited to be here for the winter, excited for all the friends I have, but cautious and worn-out because I don't know what's going to happen and I'm going beyond my comfort zone. But it'll be okay.

-drool-

2008-12-28T18:11:00.004-07:00

I WAAANT it...!

(http://www.goodorient.com/Chinese_Handmade_Umbrella---Cornflower_Blue_P18668)

How pretty is that?

2008-12-26T09:18:00.006-07:00

As the remaining time of my 2.5 week Christmas vacation steadily dwindles, it's got me looking back.

It's been such an up-and-down couple of weeks, holy cow. I've been homesick for Idaho most of the time, where I have my own apartment, lots of wonderful friend, and plenty to do. While there have been several wonderful moments -- the moments that are the reason I come home -- there have also been many long moments of frustration and questions that just can't be answered.

But, I decided, isn't that the point? We don't love our families because they are perpetually awesome, and we don't stop loving them because they, like us, are still figuring out this whole agency thing. God loves us because we are His, not because we deserve it. He knows our potential, so we need to believe in the potential of others and not limit the love we give because of our mortal understanding.

Someday I'm going to have a family of my own. Things won't always be good, but has to be oka. And it will be my job to make it okay -- okay that Jennie fights with David, and Andrew thinks family scripture study is stupid, and my husband would rather watch the Super Bowl than hang out with the kids on Sunday. In spite of it all, we will still be a family that loves each other and is working toward eternity.

Just like my family now.

Thicker than Water: A Short Story

2008-12-09T17:38:00.005-07:00

For my creative writing class, we're required to meet with our professor 3 times during the semester so that we can receive one-on-one critique on a work of fiction we've written this semester. I met with Brother Harrell today, and I swear, I floated home. He said he really, really enjoyed it, that it was just plain well-written. He was so delighted to hear that it was the 5th draft of the story, because he could TELL I'd put the work into it. His only criticism was that the conclusion was too open-ended, but then as we sat and talked about it, the less he felt like it deserved the criticism. (I added more to it anyway; the expanded version is included below.) He said my writing was "beyond my peers". It was so good to hear that yes, I am good at this, yes, my work does pay off. When he ran out of things to say (which was pretty early on in the appointment!) he started asking me about my plans for the future -- "Are you a creative writing emphasis? Good." "Have you thought about publication? No? Good. It's good to have humility. Publish in the school's literary journal before you graduate, and then in one or two other tiny journals in the next ten years and you'll be doing really well." It was so awesome.

So without futher ado, here's my magnum opus of Fall semester 2008, a literary-genre short story entitled Thicker than Water.

Her mother’s room smelled like stale cigarette smoke, cats, and dirty clothes. The aroma surrounded Katie in an uncomfortably intimate way, like the arm of a stranger around her shoulders.

“So…this is it.” Katie shifted the position of the box tucked under her arm. The amount of stuff crammed into her mother’s room – under tables, on dressers, piled high on shelves – was incredible. “I guess I’ll start gathering up some things for her then.”

Aunt Jess watched Katie attempt to marshal her fortitude. “Are you sure you’ll be all right here by yourself for a little while?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’ll be fine. You go bring her some dinner and I’ll head off to the hospital to meet you as soon as I’m done.”

“Well…if you’re sure. But call me if you need anything, okay sweetie? And – thank you.” Aunt Jess gave Katie a quick hug before she walked back through the tiny front room, spoke for a moment to Cameron’s roommates, and was gone. Katie smiled vaguely at the hug – she’d only opened contact with her aunt in the last four months, but she already felt closer to Jess than she’d felt to her mother for years. That was why she offered to gather things for her mother’s hospital room – to give Aunt Jess a little less to do, and so she wouldn’t have to see her mother, not yet.

Katie reluctantly turned her attention back to the disarray. All of the floor space was taken except for a shuffling path from the door to the bed, which Katie dropped onto. She had no idea where to start. For now, Katie was on her own in an oppressive tangle of puzzles, quilting squares, boxes of who knew what, and glass unicorn figurines.

Katie waded carefully across to the other side of the room and picked up one of those unicorn figurines. It was heavier than she expected. The figure was reared up on its hind legs, front hooves waving in the air. There was something vaguely familiar about it, and as she held it, bittersweet memories began to edge heavily into her mind. She put down the glass unicorn and turned away from it, and from the memories. It had been hers as a child.

Katie stared around the room, wondering again where she should start. She leaned over the side of the bed and extracted a shoe box from the wreckage. In it were a mostly-empty pack of cigarettes and prescription bottles of Lithobid and Symbyax. Holding her mother’s bipolar medication was startling and surreal; it was a tangible symbol of her mother’s mental illness, something that had always been so vague to Katie. Underneath laid a pile of letters, many of them still in their envelopes. Katie pulled one from the box and turned it over. Her own name, in childish scrawl, stared back at her.

She kept my letters.

She slowly pulled the letter out of the envelope and unfolded it with trembling fingers. Dear Mommy, said the letter, dated the year she was ten, I miss you! Daddy says you live near Grandma now that you don’t live with us. Is that fun? Do you play tea party with her like you do with me? I want you to be here to put braids in my hair. Daddy says he needs more practice with ponytails before he does braids. School is good. Miss Shell my teacher is reading my class a story about a mouse who talks and fights with swords. I don’t know what the book is called but the mouse’s name is Martin. I like it a lot. Do you have kitties at your house? I miss you Mommy! I love you. Love, Katie

Katie dug into the box and pulled out another letter at random. Cameron, she had written the year she was sixteen, I haven’t heard from you in months, again, and I don’t know why. You’re supposed to be my mom, and I’m hurt that you won’t even take the time to write me. What do you want from me? That was the year she had given up on her mother.

For the next five years, she made no attempt to contact her mother. Her family moved across the country, she fell in and out of love, she went away to college. Katie didn’t tell her mother any of it. She moved on, learning to forgive her mother, but mostly just to forget. For years, Katie had dreamed she and her mother could be best friends, sharing the same quirky sense of humor and the creative, girly side she only roughly remembered. It had been the great emotional success of her life to finally give up on that dream and accept that her mother’s illness left her with nothing to give to her daughter.

Then, Aunt Jess had found her profile on MySpace. She sent Katie a tentative, hopeful note, asking to initiate a relationship with her grown-up niece. Katie tried to make her reply as encouraging as possible – Jess sounded so nice, and so sad about never making herself a part of Katie’s life – but Katie left no question about how she felt about her mother.

Feel free to update my mother on how I’m doing, Katie remembered writing, but I do not want messages from her relayed to me. I would be happy and eager to hear that she is doing well, etc, but I'm not ready to talk to her just yet. I don't mean that in a mean way, just that I don't want to get my hopes up only to get hurt – again. As a child, I was so hurt by her leaving, by how she’d write pages and pages of letters, and then nothing for months or sometimes years at a time, and then try to step back into my life after all of the hurt she caused. I realize now that that was just part of her cycling through mania and depression, but I can’t do that again.

And yet, just months later, she was here on summer break, visiting Aunt Jess and about to reconnect with her mother.

She pulled her cell phone from her back pocket and hastily punched in the first speed-dial number. Katie sat through two long rings before her father’s voice came on the line.

“Hello?”

“Hi Daddy…how are you?”

“I’m all right.” The sounds of the football game in the background quieted as Katie heard him turn down the TV. “How are you?”

She sighed. “I don’t know.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m…frustrated. Confused.” Katie imagined him there, sitting in his big recliner in the living room of the house where she grew up. His voice crackled slightly over the phone, and re-realizing that he was a thousand miles away hurt enough to make Katie’s eyes prickle with tears. “Dad, why am I even here?”

He slowly exhaled. “Because you thought it was the right thing to do?”

“But I haven’t seen my mother in more than ten years. I haven’t written to her in five. It’s like I’m some kind of glutton for punishment.” Katie swallowed hard, and held the phone a little tighter. “There are so many memories here, Dad.” Or, Katie thought, things that should have been memories, if her mother could have stayed. “I know she left us for a good reason,” she continued. “But part of me is still that little girl who doesn’t even know what manic-depression is. All the little-girl part of me knows is that my mommy left.”

“I know, princess. It’s not fair. But think about the part of you that isn’t a little girl any more. It’s not fun being the adult, but now that you’ve accepted she can’t take care of you, you need to remember – you’re the one who decided to be there.”

Katie sighed. “I know. But what else was I supposed to do, though, you know?”

“Yeah…it’s like that country song. ‘Blood is thicker than water’.”

“But ‘love is thicker than blood’.” Katie shook her head. “I’ve loved Jenny like a mom from day one. I don’t need another mom.” Because Katie and Dad were friends, in addition to father and daughter, Katie knew what he would say next. She also knew that deep-down, she couldn’t disagree.

“Jenny is the best step-mom you could ask for, I know. But no matter what, Cameron is still your mother.”

***

When she finished filling the box with pictures and knickknacks and magazines, things to make the hospital room more homey, Katie finally talked herself into driving to the hospital. The smell there was like her mother too, from long ago when she worked nights at Sharp Memorial and would let Katie wear her nurse’s cap. Katie stepped into the elevator and pushed the button for the eighth floor. She leaned back against the elevator wall and tried to smile at the other woman there, holding a bunch of get-well balloons.

“Visiting someone?” the woman asked.

“My mother.”

She made a sympathetic face. “That’s so hard.”

“In more ways than you can imagine,” Katie sighed. She glanced at the bright balloons in the woman’s hand. “Are you visiting someone too?”

“My daughter had surgery yesterday. I’d bring one of those big obnoxious singing cards, but she’d never forgive me for it.” The woman grinned.

Katie laughed, and watched the elevator doors open. “This is my floor. Nice talking to you.”

“You too. Best to your mom.”

“My mother,” Katie corrected automatically as she slowly walked through the elevator doors.

My mother, Katie repeated to herself, moving toward the bleak, graying door of the hospital room where Aunt Jess and her mother were waiting. Daddy’s voice replayed in her head – I know it's not fun being the adult. But remember, princess – you're the one who decided to be there.

Katie took the last heavy, hesitant steps toward room 845, the room with Cameron Hendershot printed in sterile letters on a form posted outside. She was here out of obligation to a deeply-rooted idea that what was easy and what was kind weren’t always the same thing.

She is my mother, at least, if not my friend.

Katie knocked softly on the door.