taking it back...

I've missed writing because I've been super busy and felt like hiding away. So here is a long, truly scary confession post for me with *gasp* a photo with MAKE UP ON. 

Triggers here. Fyi.

I don't wear make up pretty much ever. If I do, it's basic mascara and some pink blush used as eyeshadow. Nondescript. Barely there. Fiance is cool with it - "You're naturally beautiful.  Women really are. I wish you - all of you - could see it too." Love him, right? Anyway. We did engagement photos a week ago, and so I did the thing you do and put on my face - and though I look very Jane Austen? I about had a panic attack walking out of the bookstore restroom to go meet up with our photographer.

Fiance immediately asked what was wrong - and I almost cried off my face as I told him I hate wearing make up. "People look at me more. They see me. Men see me. I want to be left alone. I don't want them to look at me." He was confused. And as I thought about it from his perspective - I found myself analyzing why I think this way.

Guy from high school who locked me in his car and threatened to rape me? He wouldn't let me wear make up. Or cute clothes. "I don't want other men to look at you. You're mine." Checking my phone, playing mind games, making me change outfits before dates if I looked "too hot." Don't be seen.

Supervisor who locked me in the janitor's closet with him. He let me go when I stared too hard at him, wide-eyed and more confused than scared. "Close your eyes, girl. What the hell you doin' with those?" Don't be seen.

Ex who repeatedly abused me for two years - "You attract so much attention just because of your face. Especially your eyes. Stop looking at me. Look down." "Take off the eyeliner, you look stupid." "Did you see that guy checking you out? Don't wear that shirt when we go places anymore." Don't be seen.

I've always been shy. Awkward. Looking at the ground. But to have a panic attack because I put on make up? Unable to breathe because my eyes shine? Afraid to show fiance my face when I put this stuff on because he might see something he's suddenly afraid of or made angry by and tell me to disappear? He wouldn't. He won't. But my crazy brain says he might - it's ridiculous.

So guess what? This cleansing confession post now has a DARE. A BIG ONE.

Be seen. With or without make up on. With or without a nice outfit. I'll Be Seen. I'll see others. I'll smile and laugh and walk with my head held high.

I'm taking back my face.

avoidance...

The blog has been inactive for the past couple of weeks, as those of you who read here have probably noticed.

I haven't had much to say lately. More truthfully, I've had so much to say -- but it's all the same old stuff -- that I decided I'd skip writing it down. Often I've looked at a blank screen or gazed at the lines of empty paper, fingers poised for typing or pen a millimeter from the page.

Nothing.

Honestly, I've been afraid. I've been afraid of judgement, afraid of rejection. I've been terrified of the "I told you so"s and the "you have to do it this way"s that might crop up -- might being the key word. How am I to know what people will think or say or do? And why should that get in the way of living?

It's so much easier to tell someone else to be brave -- to keep trying -- to never give up -- to remember that he or she is worth it. 

It's a lot harder to tell those things to yourself, let alone follow through and change.

why I won't be a lawyer...

Many of my family and friends have told me that I should be a lawyer.

Nope.

I can't think quickly enough to debate things. I'm not brave enough to say what I believe. I'm not smart enough to stick up for my "case" -- I get all tongue-tied and twisted up.

Like with my coworkers. I admire my friend who can continually stick up for her beliefs with evidence and without getting flustered by the person contesting her beliefs. I wish with all my heart I could do that.

But instead I sit quietly and literally shake in my chair.

I think I liked working here better when I was by myself all day long.

spill it...

It came out of nowhere.

One day we were just holding hands and stuff, becoming friends, goofing off, and the next, I'm spilling some of my deepest secrets. What's crazier is that he spilled first. When it was my turn, he didn't judge or even give advice. He let me talk, and when I cried, he held me close and told me that everything will be okay.

I didn't intend to tell him anything. It just sort of happened.

By the way, our first date (Friday) was loads of fun. He took me to see The Hobbit, as when I mentioned I hadn't seen it, he was horrified. Dinner at Macaroni Grill (which I've only ever heard about), a walk through the Christmas lights at the Riverwoods shops, and coloring Captain America in my Avengers coloring book followed.

He's the sweetest guy ever.

The spillage took place last night. I got home from my parents' house to find an unexpected visitor sitting on the couch with Chelsea and Jeff. The four of us went to Applebee's for a last hurrah before school starts (bug). He paid for me -- I was too tired to fight him and the waiter at the same time.

He stayed late, letting me talk about things, just listening. I feel so much lighter, like I was carrying something heavy, and the weight is gone. I feel so much safer, even comfortable.

I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have a friend like him. No matter how this goes, I'm lucky.

purpose...

Sometimes people ask me why I write on a blog. Others ask me why I write at all. To both, I respond by saying that I love to write -- especially about life -- and that if I don't write, my head will get more confused and my heart will burst with held back emotion.

Lately I feel as though I am adrift in a tiny little boat on a large, cold sea, surrounded by dark skies and wet spray. No map or compass guides me; I couldn't steer even if I tried, for I have no paddle. There isn't even a lantern or a flashlight. The way is unclear and uncertain. On and on I float, a barely stifled panic creeping through my soul as I wonder where I am going with no end in sight.

In my metaphorical life boat, I ask myself questions. 

Where are you going?

What are you going to do with your life?

Who are you?

What is your purpose?

My answer for each question is the same: I'm honestly not sure.

October marks my 5th year of blogging. Today marks my 1,000th post. You would think that after all that time of writing and discovering, I would have a clear answer for each question.

I don't have much. What I do have now, though, is more than I had before. That matters

Where are you going? 

Forward.

What are you going to do with your life? 

I am going to do good.

Who are you? 

I am a child of the Most High God, daughter of a King. I am a daughter of good parents, a sister to two amazing young women, a friend to as many as I can be, a hard worker, a diligent student. A person with a bright future, though I may not know the way to it at this time.

What is your purpose?

To be the best person that I can be -- to look back at these years of writing and see how far I have come and realize that I can and will improve.

I am braver than I believe, stronger than I seem, and smarter than I know. My little boat heads for the horizon, my face eager for the rising sun, my heart waiting for the future.

I am not perfect. But I am not without faith.

photo by Parker Nelson

always there...

from Do More With Les via Pinterest

contradiction...

Every once in awhile, I really dislike my job. Yes, tutoring gets tiring sometimes (so much so that I dream about it), and it's frustrating to see a huge line out the door, knowing that people are bored and impatient and mad that they have to wait for so long. However, the days when I dislike my job the most are the days that we're not busy and some sort of discussion begins at the tutor table, discussions that leave me feeling isolated and uncomfortable.

Unlike the majority of my coworkers, I do not fall into the category of "American liberal." My political, intellectual, and social leanings are more along the lines of "American conservative." At the same time, though, I don't like lumping myself in with the so-called conservative crowd. I don't think the same way that a lot of them do. I disagree with them on many issues. I disagree with the liberal crowd as well. The reason why, I believe, is because I try not to affiliate myself with any type of group through name alone -- I want to find a middle ground. Some may call it "going with your gut" politics -- that's what I try to do.

For me, if something doesn't feel right, then it's wrong. If that makes any sense. An explanation is difficult, but I'll try my best. Basically I believe that there is truth and there is not truth. No one person has all truth. Therefore, no one group has a monopoly on all truth, either, because groups are made up of individuals who lack full, complete truth.

At my work, many of the people believe one way and will see no other point of view. Or they pretend to see the other point of view, but in their acknowledgment of the opposing side, they slip in a low-key remark about the intelligence of the different group. There are some who honestly don't care about personal political preferences and when a discussion starts, they comment once or twice and go back to their books, satisfied that they've contributed their statement of agreement with what everyone else is already saying. But it seems as though there isn't anyone who is interested in hearing from the one person who thinks differently -- and if they do hear, they don't listen. Even if they do listen, they look at me strangely and go back to talking with the people who already agree with them. Once again, I'm no longer encouraged to participate.

Countless times I've been blown off or shut down because I think differently. Many times I'm not even invited to join the conversation -- I become an observer from one side of the table, and when I try to interject my point of view, I'm talked over or ignored. Then, when someone does notice me sitting there, listening but not included, the resulting comment I'm asked to make leaves a sudden awkwardness in the air. And that's usually when the discussion ends or moves to a new topic.

Perhaps the awkwardness stems from the fact that I don't affiliate myself wholly with one group or person. I believe that truth can be found in all places, and if one asks to find it, that truth will be given. Some things just feel wrong to me -- much of that has to do with the influence that my faith has on my perspective of the world. God grants us truth if we ask; I ask for truth on a daily basis (no joke -- it helps with school a lot).

One person has called me out on not thinking for myself, of letting my church tell me how to think and who to be. They're wrong. I do think for myself. I make my own decisions. "Separation of church and state," someone said today (not to me -- they were discussing the presidential debate of last night and the reaction of students), "Stop bringing up the church, for crying out loud." Yes, I can see how saying that all LDS people should vote for Mitt Romney because he, too, is a Mormon, is probably not okay. But it's when the person took it a step farther, saying that using religious principles to formulate personal political beliefs is ridiculous, that I got a little bit bothered.

In discussions that I am included in, I don't bring up the church very often. I bring up true principles that I have a testimony of, not referencing them to the church at all. I bring up things that I know to be true. Yes, the church teaches these principles. Yes, the church revolves on the gospel of Jesus Christ. But the principles can be applied to anyone, inside or outside of the LDS church. Asking me to separate church and state in my thinking is silly to me, for how can I be the same person if I allow my thinking and action to be different when engaging with seemingly separate groups? No, I don't force my religion down people's throats. No, I don't condemn others for thinking differently than I do. No, I don't think that difference of opinion is a bad thing. I do think it strange to tell a person to separate faith from thought about other aspects of life -- telling them how to think -- particularly after slamming someone for letting the church "tell you how to think."

How can I be an example of Christ "at all times, and in all things, and in all places" if I don't live the same way in all times, and in all things, and in all places? How can I speak and act in one way at work, and then in another at church, and another in class? Why be two or three or four faced in my dealings with people? And how on earth can I separate my ways of thinking when my faith is so central to my life? No, I won't say things like, "Well, the church says this, and since you're different, you're bad." But I will say that telling me to think in certain ways or not think in certain ways is out of line -- as soon as that happens, those people begin to do exactly what they profess to hate: being told how to think by the LDS church.

Contrary to popular belief, the LDS church doesn't tell its members how to think. It doesn't tell us how to vote. The general authorities come right out and say that civic action is a duty of all citizens, and to vote according to our consciences using the information we have discovered on our own to make informed decisions. Never once do they say, "vote for so-and-so." No. That happens in isolated places and meetings because people are not perfect and are every once in awhile out of line, but it is not a church policy to do this.

I never ask anyone else to think different ways. I don't ask them to split themselves into different people according to who they are with and what they're talking about. Telling me to think for myself, and then telling me in the same sentence to stop letting my faith influence me, is completely contradictory. They call out the hypocrisy of LDS church members, but then they do the same things. That, to me, is absolutely frustrating. It is also a warning to watch myself, so that I don't fall into those same habits.

Truth will out in the end -- I'll find it in my ways, and you in yours. As for now, I will return to my book and sit quietly at the tutor table. I've learned that often the strongest argument is that of silence.

the Hub...

I spend a lot of time in my kitchen. Yes, I do the obvious things, like cook. This kitchen will forever be in my memory as "the place where I taught myself to make good food." So far even my mistakes have been successful -- like the sweet and tangy meatball sauce I made in the crock pot? Waaaaaay too much chili sauce, but it turned out quite well.

I clean a lot, too. Some friends say I clean so much that it's nigh unto an obsession. You know what, though? I like it clean. After all, since I do spend a lot of time cooking, I want to have a clean place to work. I also am haunted by the memory from when I worked on a custodial team at a middle school, and we were allowed to borrow a bacteria counter thing-a-ma-jig from an inspector. Our toilet seats had less bacteria on them than the school cafeteria tabletops. Oh. My. SICK.

Did I ever tell you that I dance in my kitchen? YouTube and Pandora are my friends. So is Justin Bieber. He hangs out with me a lot. Gives me tips on my moves. Actually, he doesn't, and I'm glad he can't see me dance because he'd probably laugh. I mean, once upon a time I was dancing in my bedroom when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, and I stopped because I was embarrassed for myself. No mirrors in the kitchen!

Talking on the phone happens a lot here, too. I'm not generally one to sit in normal places, like on a chair or the couch or in bed, while on the phone. I find myself huddled in corners, perched on the banister, sprawled on the bar over the sink, seated on the closed toilet while fixing my nails, under the table -- my favorite place is the subtle nook-ish spot by the dishwasher. Or leaning against the fridge. Don't ask my why all of those places are appealing. It's weird. I know.

Studying, writing, and stalking keeping up with friends through the Internet are frequent occurrences, too (do you ever have words that you just cannot seem to spell correctly ever? occurrences -- took me three times to get it right. rhythm is the other one I can never seem to get right). Facebook, Pinterest, gMail, Blogger...you name it. Except Twitter. Boring. They don't even have a like button.

There are a lot of good talks in my kitchen. Lots of hilarious jokes, stories about people's lives, insights into personalities, confessions, ideas, advice. Shared experiences, usually between myself and one other person. Sometimes we share food, too, but the sharing of laughter, experiences, and trust are even better.

I talk to myself, too. What? Why are you looking me like that's weird? Because if you know me, you also know that I talk to myself. And you also know that I'm weird. But it's cool! We talked about talking to ourselves in my Anthropology language class. It's healthy. Unless, you know. You're actually crazy. I have a lot of good conversations with myself. Working out problems I can't solve silently, walking myself through recipes, making myself laugh (I'm funny). Singing, too. Singing happens here.

Tears fall here, too. Sometimes there's a reason for them. Other times they just fall.

Mary Wixom said that the "kitchen is the hub of the home." It's the heart of the bustle and commotion of life. It's where people meet after their busy days -- coming in from their spokes on the family wheel and settling in the center, the Hub. It's where we talk and share our experiences. It's where we slow down for a little while, taking a few moments to notice that we're not just getting things done and running around crazy. We're living.

lesson Two...

God understands your tears just as well as He understands  your words. After all, He gave you both.

If you have read anything that I have ever written, or talked in person or on the phone with me, you will know that it is rare that I am ever at a loss for words. Yes, I'm actually a shy person, but once you get to know me and the walls come down, the flood gates open and out come thoughts, dreams, jokes, laughs, and more.

There are times, though, when I can find no words to express the thoughts and feelings inside my head and heart. There are times when I find myself cradling broken fragments of memories in my fingers -- snippets of conversations replaying in my ears, flashes of faces in my mind, scenes of love and loss stuttering like an old film in front of my eyes -- those broken fragments are often hard to hold. A forgotten moment can have an edge sharper than a knife when it is brought again to light. Even with the times of joy mixed in, the bite of shattered hopes lingers longer than the reminisces of happiness. Finding words can be as difficult as finding peace.

I am a person who must express what I'm feeling and thinking in some way or another. My first choice is through words, be they written or spoken. I have to get things out. Not doing so results in sleepless nights or nightmares, and withdrawal from others, among other not so healthy coping methods. And so the times when I can't find words, when I can't express how I feel...those times are very hard.

Today has been a day of no words. It hasn't been a bad day by any means, but there were things festering inside of me that I was too afraid to look at, because I knew that if I looked, it would hurt. I pushed those things aside -- I've probably been pushing them aside for a few days. But those things will not stay buried for long. Soon I got too tired, and almost too curious, to not look. And I did.

It was one of those moments when I saw much of my life -- where I've been, where I am, where I'm going -- and it seemed as though I was nothing. No matter what, I'm not good enough. Yes, I've accomplished things, but I'm not good enough to be really worth something in others' lives.

I thought of the older man at my sisters' workplace who was fired shortly after he began working there because he couldn't do the work well enough -- he'd needed a job so badly.

I thought of the friend whose parents are upset at her for things she couldn't control -- she would have kept her word if her car hadn't broken down, and if she'd had the money to fix it.

I thought of all of the people who have lost homes in the fires, all of their belongings and possibly pets -- they couldn't forsee that the places they lived in would be in the path of a monstrous wildfire.

I thought of the girl who has become a good friend in a short amount of time, who got in some trouble with a boy and when she told him she was pregnant, he left her, and when she lost the baby he came back and told her it was all her fault -- she deserves so much better than that.

And then the thought came to my mind -- 'you are not enough. Your writing center job, your associate's degree, your high honors, your house, your life -- YOU -- are not enough to help any of those people.'

My heart aches for these people, and it aches more that I can do nothing to help them. It is a literal ache, one that hit me so hard that I doubled over and did the only thing I could do: I began to cry. I leaned against the wall for what seemed like a lifetime, crying and crying because of the pain I felt in my heart for these people and my inability to help them. And another thought came: how could I believe in a God who let things like this happen to people, especially to those who don't deserve it? And why will He not make me enough, when I have constantly tried to give everything to Him?

I then began to berate myself for worrying about things I can't control and for questioning the Lord. I remembered that everything happens for a reason, and it makes people stronger if they will learn from it. You shouldn't doubt, and anyway, you should be praying rather than crying, a not-so-kind voice said in my head. Mid-sob, though, I was hit by something that I'd never thought of before. I was so surprised that I stopped crying. And another voice answered saying, The Lord understands tears. He hears those just as He hears your words.

I was stunned. How had I never thought of that before? All of those times I'd avoided talking to the Lord because I knew that I would have no words to say and I would merely cry -- He gets that. He understands that there are times when I will be unable to speak, to voice the things that are inside of me. And it isn't just when I'm sad, either. He understands the tears of joy just as well as the tears of sorrow.

Tonight the pain I felt has not been assuaged very much. My doubts are not as prevalent, because I'm trying to step back and remember the "big picture principles." I still ache inside for these strangers and friends, and I will not lie and say that the tears have ceased completely. However, I do know that it is not weak to show the Lord my tears. He understands them -- He gave them to me as a gift, a way to express feelings when I cannot explain them through words.

God understands your tears just as well as He understands your words. After all, He gave you both.

into the fire...

Taking wrong turns. Drawsome. Scones. Protestors. Nephites. Lamanites. Prophets. Ancient records. Pioneers. Founding fathers. Volcanoes. Temple. Impromptu photoshoot. Cartwheels. Round-offs. Smart Phone constellation app. Ghost hunting app. Gullible not written on my shoe. Incredibly genial McDonald's man. Wrong turn. Wildfire. Smoky moon. More wildfire.

You know you have great friends when they make the (almost) two hour drive down to a little tiny town in southern Utah to watch the Manti Mormon Miracle Pageant. While some people call this pageant cheesy and silly (after all, isn't the word 'cheesy' included in the definition of 'pageant'), this event has been one of my all-time favorite summer adventures. I used to go every year with my family, and I always looked forward to it. My family couldn't go this year, and so I am extremely grateful to Ann, Brianna, and Matt for making the trip with me.

I love going to this pageant because despite the script and voice recordings that are older than I am (I remember hearing the same words and voices when I was five), it's something from my childhood that hasn't changed. I love the familiarity of the words, and the dramatic music, and the motions of the actors. But most of all, I love the feeling that I get. When I listen to the story of Joseph Smith; when I see the stories of the Book of Mormon played out on the side of the temple hill; when I watch as the man portraying Christ calls the people to him, and then as all of the little children run to his outstretched arms.

For me, it isn't just a pageant. It's more than that. Yes, it's cheesy, and I'll admit it, I had to keep from laughing a couple of times (the script really does need a little help). However, the peace that I feel and the utter longing that enters my heart when I see the Savior wrap his arms around the children...that isn't something I can laugh at. Sitting at the base of the Manti Temple and feeling tears on my cheeks because of the witness I receive from the Lord is real, not humorous. It's one of the few times during the year that I can recognize the Holy Spirit working on me without any doubt -- it's one of the times where I can receive promptings and reassurance without wondering if I'm confusing my own thoughts and desires with the Lord's whisperings. And for that, I am so grateful.

Another successful adventure, I believe. The fire of the wild before us, and the fire of the Spirit within us.

I take pictures of random things. It was the light and the colors that caught my eye.

Beautiful Manti Temple

Shortly before the pageant began

Ann is adorable.

This photo should be a Christmas card.
"He sees you when you're sleeping...and so do we. Merry Christmas from the Calls! Love, Brianna and Matt."

amazing...

I've been thinking about the meanings of words. Words, written or spoken, are how we communicate. But do we really know what the words we say mean? I think that sometimes the things that we say are exaggerated or even overused. Take the word love. How often do you hear that every day? And, in all of those times it's used, how often is it used correctly? The frequent and inaccurate use of the word love, in a way, cheapens it.

The word "amaze" is another that comes to mind. The dictionary defines it as

to overwhelm with surprise or sudden wonder; astonish greatly
I use this word too much. I use it to describe foods, performances, movies, events, even people -- and sometimes those things aren't very amazing. I exaggerate the description of the whatever I've experienced or seen to fit the definition of amaze; I use it for the wrong things. They're still great things, and far from average, but they don't astonish or overwhelm me.

Some things, though, really do amaze me. Some people amaze me (for bad and for good reasons). For example, I was amazed by the amount of dishes that were in the sink when I got home, so amazed that I stopped dead in the doorway and almost cried. It sounds like a stupid thing to cry over, but because the other person in the family who helps me try to keep up with the house gone for the week, it now has all fallen to me. I truly was overwhelmed and shocked.

If you're wondering if I did the dishes, no. I haven't yet. Bad person. :P
So that's an example of a bad thing that amazed me. Here's a good example:

Last night at a friend's bridal shower, I stayed after most people had left to help clean up (and to make a general nuisance of myself because I'm pretty sure I ended up more in the way than being productive). Everything was close to finished, and the hostess's husband brought pizza home for his family. I was the only one left there who wasn't related to someone in the room, so I felt awkward about taking any food. When my friend offered some to me, I said no because I wasn't family.

What she said has stuck with me all day long. She looked at me and said, "Well, you're my family."

That really and truly amazed me. It still does. I was so suprised, and it made me feel so...just good inside.

Words are important. The casual use of words seems almost cheap to me. If we only ever use words to express what they really mean, we will have more meaning -- so much more.

be exceptional...be complete...

Lately I've been thinking about what it means to be exceptional, to make a difference, to impact the world in some way. Not necessarily on a grand, global scale, but exceptional enough to change something. Perhaps even exceptional enough to change myself, for personal change is no easy thing. I find this to be truer every day.

Some may say that because "everyone is special", no one is special. "Being special" may be seen as the status quot: you're not special because everyone else is and you're only special if you stand out. We sure don't treat everyone like they're special. If that's the way that we saw one another, wouldn't it solve a lot of problems? If when you look at another person, you see someone special instead of someone average--how would that change the world?

2nd Peter 1:3-4 say "According to his divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of him that hath called us to glory and virtue: Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises: that by these ye might be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world..."

Doctrine and Covenants 18:10 reminds that each person, each soul, is important to God, commanding us to "Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God."

What if we treated everyone with the belief that inside of them is the incredible? Not just the potential: the incredible, the exceptional, the divine nature is already there. Our world is so set on seeing the flaws and faults and imperfections that the true worth of each individual soul has been forgotten in a tide of false perfection. The Lord says, "be ye therefore perfect". Do you know what perfect means in the Hebrew translation? Perfect: whole, complete, finished. That means something different than flawless.

We're not going to be perfect in this life. We're going to make mistakes. We're going to see people not as they really are. We're going to see ourselves differently, too. But--to become finished and complete--one must work at it. Really work at it, involving the Lord as much as possible in everything. That isn't to say let Him tell you what to do. He won't always tell you what to do. Instead, ask for His advice. Ask for His help, His guidance, His strength and spirit to be with you.

How wonderful is it that God didn't leave us to ourselves? It is said that God no longer speaks to men, that He has forgotten us. Some even say that He gave up. He didn't do that though. I believe that God has instilled in everyone a desire to do something great. Why? Because as children of God, we share in His nature. Goodness, the desire to do good, comes from Him. Whether someone knows it or not, whether the desire is big, small, or hasn't come to conscious thought yet, it's in there.

I want to make a difference. I want to do something, to be something great. Whether that is an outstanding, earth shaking thing or a seemingly insignificant thing, I want to be incredible. Every person has incredible inside. It comes with being human. And someday, if we work hard enough and rely on the Savior and His grace to make up the difference, we will be complete.

just a number...

It is said that age is just a number. That weight is just a number. That income, grade point average, IQ, so many other measurements aren't really measurements at all. They're just numbers.

People cannot be measured in numbers. Can people be measured at all? Really...if everything about a person is "just a number", what does a person become? A number? What happened to the term "human being"?

This week I've been slipping. I've been feeling and thinking so many different things. I remember similar feelings and thoughts, ones I hoped to never revisit. They're not fun. They're painful and lonely. Remembering those things has brought me to remember the "treatment" I went through. It works for a lot of people: the doctor visits, the medications, the therapy sessions. For some, maybe most, those things change lives. For me, those things didn't work. I don't know if it's because I was (and am) a very stubborn person who very much dislikes taking pills and talking to strangers about my deep struggles or what, but for me it didn't do much good. It did some, I'll admit. Just not as much as it does for others.

I hated feeling the affects of a drug on my mental and emotional make up. I could feel myself changing, but it wasn't true change. After a year and a half of medications and therapists I felt a difference only in this way: everything was completely fake. My emotions and thoughts were completely...I don't even know how to describe it. It was like every time I was "happy", I was constantly aware that in the very, very back of my mind I really wasn't happy; that it was a chemical alteration that was causing my real emotions and thoughts to be twisted into an absolutely false optimism. I couldn't really be who I was. The real feeling, thinking me was barricaded behind a facade of pills and doctors telling me things were working. But for me, it wasn't working. That probably makes no sense, but it's just hard to explain.

The therapists were the real kicker though. I sat in an office with a stranger for an hour every week. When you didn't want to be there at all and were taken by force, that hour seemed like a lifetime. And then when the therapist told you more than once that if you really believed in Christ--if you were really following the commandments--you wouldn't be feeling the depression and fear that possessed you, that hour turned into eternity. Then it made me feel even worse about myself, that not only was I a bad person for feeling the way that I did, but that I was also a bad person because if I really had faith I'd be happy. No Faith = Bad Person = No Happiness. Bad equation.

Those people were trying to help me. But they couldn't help me, really. I felt that to them, I was a bunch of numbers on a piece of white paper. I was weight, height, age, gender, class, "on a scale of 1 to 10" selections, yes, no, "do you", "don't you". I still feel that way, which is why I fight this so hard on my own.

I stopped taking medications a year ago. I stopped talking to doctors and therapists. This past year was actually the happiest year of my life. There were some really, really hard days and even weeks, but I came out on top. Right now I'm sliding back into old patterns of thought and behavior. I don't want to be like that. That's why I'm trying so hard. I don't know why it's so hard to talk though--usually people can't get me to shut up.

I don't want to go back to being a number. I don't want to go back to the fake, awful feelings and thoughts I had, the feeling of being trapped and unable to express how things were really working inside. I don't want my happiness to be measured out in milligrams and be put into orange containers with white, child-proof (and sometimes me-proof) lids. I don't want to go back to smiling professionals who waved away my expressions of concern about what I felt was happening. That happened a lot.

From this, you could say that I'm a control freak. I suppose I am. I'm an "I control myself" freak. I don't like outside sources stepping in and taking over. To me it is so very important to work as hard as I can on my own. All of this has taught me many ways to handle the depression and anxiety (admittedly they're not working so well right now). I've come so far on my own in the past two years. Why? Because I put the Lord first (finally figured that one out) and asked Him to help me do this without the pills and therapy sessions. To Christ, you are never a number. Ever. You're always, always, always His lamb, and He is always your Shepherd.

I don't want to be "just a number". I don't want to be a piece of categorical data. I don't want to be a quantitative measure. I am a child of GOD (wow...writing that feels good). He knows me. He knows you. Who but He can help? The master physician, the greatest listener, the best friend.

You are never a number to the Lord. Don't forget that.

kaboom...

I'm the kind of person who can't keep her own secrets. I can keep other people's, but never my own. Why? I have to talk to someone about what's going on inside my head. The bad things about that are:

...what happens when you can't find any words?
...who do you go to when you don't know what to say?
...how do you call someone when you're too afraid to dial--after all, what if they actually pick up?

I'll try what my English teacher suggests: word vomit, meaning writing every word that comes to mind to eventually get to the main idea.

I'm upset because
...every time I finally feel comfortable somewhere, everything changes and I have to start all over again.
...I hate the helpless feeling I get when I hear my sisters talk about their friend who killed himself last week, and I hate the fear I feel when they don't talk but you can see all over their faces what they're thinking about.
...there's too much to learn and not enough time to become good at everything.
...people are thoughtless. I am, too.
...I'm so awkward, and I feel like people don't think I'm being sincere when I really and truly am.
...being in pain for a week and a half is not easy to live with (it makes me ache for the people who have to deal with it every single day of their lives).
...no matter what I do, I still look and feel the same.
...I'm suddenly faced with great uncertainty in where I stand at work, and I'm afraid to approach my boss and ask about it because I'm afraid of what she'll say.
...I cannot for the life of me find my paycheck (with my W2 in it that costs $10 to replace).
...no one has really hugged me in days, which is weird because I usually don't like to be touched.
...school is boring. It's kind of a let down, actually.
...I'm selfish. I don't know how to change it, either.
...I'm never going to be good enough.
...writing to my missionary friends is getting harder and harder to do, not because I can't make time, but because (once again) I don't know what to say.
...Molly is naughty on purpose to get attention. Irritating.
...things from my past keep coming to mind, things that hurt or frighten me or make me feel so ashamed of myself. All are things I thought I'd gotten over, but I can't let them go.
...my room is messy, my laundry isn't done, and my homework isn't finished. Each my fault. Each beyond my capacity to complete right now...or at least beyond desire.
...I really, really, really dislike being told how I think. How the heck should anybody know how I think? I don't care how many degrees you have. Do not tell me how I think about the world.
...I'm so afraid of people. I can't even talk to the people I trust because I'm afraid of them.

...explosion in progress...

*kaboom*

He'll Find a Way...

Some of you have probably noticed that I've been on a bit of a Dallyn Bayles kick. I'll warn you now, you'll probably see more of his music in the coming months. Here's why:

When I listen to Dallyn sing, I feel completely at peace. I am reminded again of how much the Lord loves me, and of what the Savior has done for me. The words and musicality of each piece resonates so strongly with me that it gives me courage to keep moving forward. That's what music does for me--it keeps me focused and strengthens me when things are hard. It helps me even when times aren't hard by helping me to move forward with faith and trust that if I do as the Lord commands, He will provide a way. Music is a tool the Spirit uses to teach me and to comfort me. It always has been, and it has become even more important in my life as I've gotten older.

This song, "He'll Find a Way", has been very meaningful to me. I heard it once on the radio when I was driving to an LDC performance last year. It was before I'd ever heard of or met Brother Bayles, and I remember I almost wrecked because I was so overcome by the truth of this song. It was a very dark time in my life, and this song allowed the Spirit to enter my heart and testify to me that I was loved. Now it's still a powerful reminder, and I play it often. I am so grateful for all of the times the Lord has helped me. He cares so much! It's really incredible, if you think about it.

I know that Christ lives. Whoever you are, be you friend or stranger, He loves you. His love can be seen in all directions--all you need to do is look for Him. I promise that He is there, and I know He loves you. Just like He loves me.



When life gets crazy and you've had enough,
and the more you search for some kind of meaning
the more you feel you're out of luck;
When your mind tries to reason and nothing adds up,
lay it all down.
Take a good look around.

His love can be seen in all directions!
His infinite peace longs to hold you every second.
From the thorns in His crown to the sunset colored clouds
He'll find a way to say 'I love you.'

When tears won't relieve you, when your heart feels numb
and your mind keeps repeating the painful,
thoughtless things you've done;
And you're starting to wonder just who you've become,
believe you'll make it!
Give your worry up-
let Him take it.

His love can be seen in all directions!
His infinite peace longs to hold you every second.
From the thorns in His crown to the sunset colored clouds
He'll find a way to say 'I love you.'

Feel His love with each breath you're breathing.
It's as sure as your heart is beating!

His love can be seen in all directions!
His infinite peace longs to hold you every second.
From the thorns in His crown to the sunset colored clouds
He'll find a way to say 'I love you.'

He'll find a way to say 'I love you.'
He'll find a way."

A Silent Night...

The past two weekends have been spent performing in LDC's annual Christmas pageant. At first our show A Silent Night seemed just another thing that I had to do. I wasn't unhappy about it, but neither was I super excited about it. It was just a show, a chance to perform and to make people happy. It just never seemed to mean much to me personally. I wanted people to come and see it so they could feel happy and be uplifted, but it was like the message of it wasn't getting through to me.

That was until our final show, after our president, Teddy, bore her testimony. I was finally able to really feel the message of our story. Before I knew the story and the music, and I loved all of it. I knew in my mind that the story was true, and that what we were doing was blessing many people and helping them through their hard times. But as Teddy spoke of the Savior, and of her upcoming mission, and of her love for each of us, it wasn't just a fact anymore. It was no longer just a fact in my head. It was real truth in my heart.

Christmas isn't glitter and sparkly lights and presents, toys and electronics and gift cards. Christmas isn't Santa Claus and elves and sleigh rides. Christmas is more than that. All of those things can be good and bring happiness, but it isn't what it's all about. Christmas, as Brother Eggett pointed out, is a big birthday party. It's Christ's birthday party! That's what it's all about. Shepherds were invited to celebrate by the angels, a formal invitation from God to announce the birth of His Son! Wise men came later to give gifts to the child, recognizing the little king. Today we continue to celebrate the most wondrous, miraculous birth of all time. Because that's what it's really about. Not the Christmas we see in the windows of every store and on the screen of every TV, but the Christmas we read of in the scriptures. It's the Christmas you feel, the Christmas that gets inside you and causes you to love people you don't even know, or people you don't even like very much. It's the Christmas that makes you want to be a better person, even if it's in a small way that nobody will ever know about. It's the Savior, the Messiah, the King of kings and Lord of Lords! It's Him, and all He did. Because there wouldn't be an Easter without a Christmas.

Let Him in. Into your life, into your heart, into your mind. All we have to do is let Him in.

I'll share a little bit of our show with you now. I hope you enjoy it. Merry Christmas!

My darling friend Amanda and me after the show.

Click here.

All praise to the name of the Father of Light!
One who listens and hears when I call.
Every step He ordains I shall walk without fear.
In His light I'll not stumble or fall.
In His light I'll not stumble or fall.

What can mortal men do while I'm safe in His hands?
He is God; on His word I'll rely!
In the midst of my fear I will trust in His name
for I know He will hear when I cry.

He knows all of my feelings,
the depths of despair,
all the limits my soul can endure.
I will trust in His name--I have nothing to fear
for in Him all my hopes are secure.

All praise to the name of the Father of Light!
One who listens and hears when I call.
Every step He ordains I shall walk without fear.
In His light I'll not stumble or fall.
In His light I'll not stumble or fall.

He alone can deliver a soul from its death,
lift a life from a wasteland of need.
He alone can replenish with blessings untold
until into His light we are freed!
We are freed!

All praise to the name of the Father of Light!
One who listens and hears when I call.
Every step He ordains I shall walk without fear.
In His light I'll not stumble or fall.
In His light I'll not stumble or fall.

Every step He ordains I shall walk without fear!
In His light I'll not stumble or fall.

PS I had the opportunity to sing the solo on this song for one of our performances. To sing what really is my testimony...and to be backed up by this amazing choir...wow. It truly was an incredible experience. I probably will never have a chance like that again, and it has become a memory I will treasure forever.

is this a test?

I got some news today that, although not entirely unexpected, was still a bit of a blow. It wasn't a blow to my confidence or anything that broke my heart, but more of a tremor in my personal faith. Why would I not receive something that was promised to me by the Lord who never breaks a promise?

The hard thing for me right now is to have faith in something I'm not sure of. I'm not good at just stepping back and saying, 'Oh, well! Time to just be happy not knowing and keep living life.' I'm very much about having the perfect answer. I want ANSWERS. Without an answer I feel lost and afraid and unsure. I don't know which direction to go, which decision to make, and I worry about everything. So my knee-jerk reaction today was 'Crap. CRAP. Crap. How do I have faith in something I'm not even sure will happen? How do I move forward when I have no direction and am so unsure? I mean...the Lord wouldn't lie to me. Right? Right! But...wha...huh?'

And then I got to thinking...that's what faith IS. To believe in and hope for things that are unseen, that are for us uncertain, that we don't have answers about at this present time. Then after some more thinking...Heavenly Father isn't a yes or no man. Especially when it comes to a no answer. The Lord never really says, "NO!" It's more of a "Not yet, little one. I know your dreams, your fears, and your desires. Still, I am your Father, and I know when to let you know what is in store. Keep moving forward in faith and obedience. I will guide the way."

God doesn't force us to do anything. He also doesn't tease us with empty words and flat promises. He lets us make choices and as long as we do our best--MY best--to do as he asks me, he will bless me. He knows that the things I want are good. He also knows when it will be best for me to receive these things, and even when it is best for me to give.

Faith. Isn't it about believing?

Alma 32:21
"And now as I said concerning faith—faith is not to have a perfect knowledge of things; therefore if ye have faith ye hope for things which are not seen, which are true."

Doctrine and Covenants 105:19
"I have heard their prayers, and will accept their offering; and it is expedient in me that they should be brought thus far for a trial of their faith."

1 Peter 1:7
"That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ:"

Ether 12:6
"And now, I, Moroni, would speak somewhat concerning these things; I would show unto the world that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith."

Moroni 7:42
"Wherefore, if a man have faith he must needs have hope; for without faith there cannot be any hope."

Alma 32:36
"Behold I say unto you, Nay; neither must ye lay aside your faith, for ye have only exercised your faith to plant the seed that ye might try the experiment to know if the seed was good."

Doctrine and Covenants 63:11
"Yea, signs come by faith, unto mighty works, for without faith no man pleaseth God; and with whom God is angry he is not well pleased; wherefore, unto such he showeth no signs, only in wrath unto their condemnation."

Moroni 7:28
"For he hath answered the ends of the law, and he claimeth all those who have faith in him; and they who have faith in him will cleave unto every good thing; wherefore he advocateth the cause of the children of men; and he dwelleth eternally in the heavens."

Ether 12:7
"For it was by faith that Christ showed himself unto our fathers, after he had risen from the dead; and he showed not himself unto them until after they had faith in him; wherefore, it must needs be that some had faith in him, for he showed himself not unto the world."

Alma 44:4
"Now ye see that this is the true faith of God; yea, ye see that God will support, and keep, and preserve us, so long as we are faithful unto him, and unto our faith, and our religion; and never will the Lord suffer that we shall be destroyed except we should fall into transgression and deny our faith."

Alma 32:26
"Now, as I said concerning faith—that it was not a perfect knowledge—even so it is with my words. Ye cannot know of their surety at first, unto perfection, any more than faith is a perfect knowledge."

answered...

Now that I've written out all of the fears and worries, I've been able to think more clearly. That helps sometimes, to talk or write out all of the things going on inside. Then they're trapped on paper so I can examine them. You can take a step back from the problem and pray about the things you wrote down, and answers come.

It took me awhile to get this answer. It was given to me yesterday, but I guess I was too afraid to take it at face-value. Who, though, needs to fear when the answer you've received is from the LORD? Of all people to believe and trust, who better than he?

As I've been pondering this problem, I remembered what happened yesterday. I have an Institute class on Mondays and Wednesdays every week; it's Dating and Courtship. Something my teacher, Sister Terry, said in class yesterday really stood out to me. We were talking about how we naturally filter out potential marriage companions. She compared a marital relationship to a team of oxen pulling weighted sleds. In order to pull well, the teams had to hit the yoke at the exact same time with equal amounts of force. If one or both oxen hit at different times or with unequal force, the teams would veer off to one side and the sleds wouldn't move at all.

Sister Terry told us that she talks to a lot of young women who have found themselves in relationships where the two people didn't pull together. Often times, the young women was pulling the young man along with her, and it was painful for the girl to put so much effort and receive so little in return. She said that for a woman, there can be several red flags that will save a lot of time and heartache: "If you find yourself thinking, 'I can help him', then it's probably not going to be a good relationship. Both people have to have the same values, to be 'equally yoked', to take on a problem at the same time with the same force and determination. Otherwise if you hit that yoke at different times with different degrees of force, it's going to hurt."

Sister Terry acknowledged that many girls want to help young men, and sometimes we really can make a difference. However, we are NOT to be their saviors. Referring to a man who is struggling, she said "He already has a savior. That person is not you."

What an incredible thought. I barely had time to think about the complete truth behind this and apply it to my own life before she hit me with her next statements about how it is absolutely unnecessary for a woman to risk her safety, happiness, and well-being to help a man who cannot or will not help himself.

Then, after flipping through memories in my mind fast enough to turn a 4G network connection into dial-up, she said this:

"The Lord will never sacrifice his daughters to save his sons."

Deep breath. Sincere prayer. Remember blessings. Apply lessons. Do this.