God's Sweetest 'I Love You's'

Awhile back I was saddened and hurt by someone and their interactions with one of my children. I ultimately forgave this person, tried to give them the benefit of the doubt, but felt it best to keep a safe distance from them. 

Last week I felt an internal nudging, after learning of some trials they were facing, to reach out and convey my care and concern for this person and their family. So, putting our past differences aside, I set to work on mailing them a care package. As I was headed to the post office I wondered, “Is this weird? I haven’t spoken to this person in a long while.” 

But then this quote popped into my head almost as quickly as I finished the previous thought. “Never suppress a generous thought.” We don’t know in life if people will receive us. But we will never look back and regret extending a kindness or an olive branch. I felt so grateful as I put that little package together to know that true forgiveness had taken place in my heart. It wasn’t an empty sentiment I convinced myself of after the offense, but a truth I could feel. Previous hurt was replaced with sincere concern. And it felt really right. 

I thought about my Savior and His commandments... like forgiving those we feel wronged by. Sometimes those commandments feel so hard. But as we set aside our own agendas, and just do what He asks, we are rewarded with not only the sweetest peace for our own hearts; but oftentimes the ability to see the other person’s heart the way He does. And oh, how that changes everything. 

Seeing others through His eyes makes all the difference. It doesn’t mean we put ourselves in situations were we are misused or taken advantage of. But it means hurt is replaced with compassion. It’s this compassion that frees us to see the other person through His lens, and feel the peace that comes from knowing He extends that same grace to us in our own flaws and shortcomings. 

It’s this yielding of hurt for compassion that enables us to feel His love in such an unfiltered way. I was reminded yet again that His commandments, especially the hard ones, are also his sweetest I love you’s.

Listen To A Prophet's Voice

I was so very grateful for the opportunity I had to watch General Conference this past weekend. To be able to invite the Spirit into my home, to feel God's love and awareness for me and my family, and to be taught. My overarching impression was the gratitude I felt to have a living prophet, leading and guiding Christ's church in these latter-days. I felt specific gratitude to President Nelson for being that prophet.

                                                   President Russell M. Nelson

I find myself grateful for the steady stream of continued revelation given to him. Grateful for his willingness to address the things that seem so applicable to the happenings within the walls of my own home. Thankful for his steady example of loving others, seeking diligently, and showing a willingness to do the Lord's will. I have felt my love for this true disciple of Christ increase so much as he has taken upon himself the mantle of prophet, priesthood key holder, and mouthpiece for the Lord.

Image from Mormon Newsroom

President Nelson instructed women of the Church on their ability to have direct access to God's power through the power of the priesthood. He showed us what our heartfelt efforts to lift and help our brothers and sisters across the globe through humanitarian work has done. He provided clarity on the call to love our neighbors, whether or not we share the commonality of race, religion, culture, sexual orientation, belief, or other labels the world would use to separate us. He offered additional insight and inspiration on the continuing adjustments to the functions of the Lord's Church. With each address it felt like he was speaking to me personally. I love that at the heart of all his messages and each of his efforts, is the sincere desire to bring us closer to our Savior. To help cement in our hearts that this is Jesus Christ's church, and He is at the center of it.

We live in a crazy world. A world that can be scary to live and raise a family in. However, I love that the prophetic blessing and promise given, is that if we will live Christ's Gospel, follow Him, and let Him change our hearts, peace and joy will be the fruits of our heartfelt efforts. I know that as I have put this promise to the test in my own life I have received an edifying peace that could only come from heaven's help. I truly am so grateful to have the opportunity to listen to a prophet's voice and know that as I follow his counsel, I will be led closer to my Savior.

Random Facts

1. Who are you named after? My parents just thought Sarah was a beautiful name. My middle name is after my Nana though. I love that.
2. Last time you cried? Listening to a talk by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland.
3. Do you like your handwriting? Yes
4. What is your favorite lunch meat? Turkey or ham mostly.
5. Coffee or tea? Neither.
6. Longest relationship? My husband Justin and I met and got engaged 18 years ago next week...CRAZY!
7. Do you still have your tonsils? Yes.
8. Would you bungee jump? Not unless I was being paid large quantities of money to do so.
9. What is your favorite kind of cereal? Raisin Nut Bran
10. Do you untie your shoes when you take them off? No, not unless it's necessary to extract my foot from my shoe.
11. Do you think you're strong? Yes, in the ways that it really counts.
12. Favorite ice cream? Blue Bell Cookies and Cream
13. What is the first thing you notice about a person? Smile or eyes.
14. Football or baseball? Neither, basketball.
15. What color pants are you wearing? Gray scrub pants
16. Last thing you ate? Homemade Chicken Noodle Soup
17. What are you listening to? The hum of my ancient computer. It might blow up at any moment...
18. If you were a crayon, what color would you be? Green
19. What is your favorite smell? Fresh herbs...they just make me happy.
20. Who was the last person you talked to on phone? Probably an insurance representative. I talk on the phone so much at work, that I'm kind of talked out by the time I get home. Unless you're in my inner circle, of course, then you can call any ol' time.
21. Hair color? Dark blonde/Light brown
22. Eye color? Greenish Blue
23. Favorite foods to eat? Anything made with love. Minus raw onions. There is no love in raw onions. Just stink.
24. Scary movies or happy? If I have to pick, happy. My imagination is too active for scary movies.
25. Last movie you watched? Sully
26. What color shirt are you wearing? Gray scrub top
29. What is your favorite holiday? Christmas, minus all the commercialism.
30. Beer or Wine? Neither, water please.
31. Night owl or morning person? Both...as long as those around me aren't being crabby.
32. Favorite day of the week? I love Saturdays... it's my only day to be a bum, or get stuff done at my own pace, or go for an adventure.

Still Loving

How do you write a serious-ish post inspired by texts regarding a late-night chocolate cake run? Well, I'll attempt. Justin and I have been married for seventeen years. I've known him longer than I've not known him. In those seventeen years there's been some really great times. There has also been some really difficult times too. We have had to actively welcome and work on love to keep it going at different phases of our marriage, instead of waiting for it to spontaneously happen. We know love takes work, and I love that. I love that we've had times that have made us re-discover what we love about each other. I love that the same guy that happily goes for walks with me, or will do a workout in the basement, is the same guy that I can rope into eating chocolate cake with me at midnight. I love that his tunes are my tunes. I love that he's got smooth moves. I love that he irons my scrubs for me in the morning. I love that he has big, burly man shoulders. I love that he loves my butt and tells me so daily. I love that we've learned how to talk about all the thoughts that bump around in our heads. I love that he is such a hard-worker. I love that he is learning humility. I love so, so much about him. But mostly I love that he is still here with me. Still trying, still working, still loving.

The Past

"As a new year begins and we try to benefit from a proper view of what has gone before, I plead with you not to dwell on days now gone nor to yearn vainly for yesterdays, however good those yesterdays may have been. The past is to be learned from but not lived in. We look back to claim the embers from glowing experiences but not the ashes. And when we have learned what we need to learn and have brought with us the best that we have experienced, then we look ahead and remember that faith is always pointed towards the future."

 -Jeffrey R. Holland

Learning to Reconnect

The most amazing thing happened about a month ago. My friend's children had the lead parts in their elementary school production of Peter Pan. So Justin and I decided to load up the girls in the van and go support our friends in their big moment.

While I was there something completely bizarre, and wonderful, and totally unexpected happened. I ran into my very best childhood friend, whom I had lost touch with over the years. I had thought she was still living in Denmark and then suddenly there she was, standing in front of me in a small school gym in my quiet, little town.

Long story short, she wasn't in Denmark, she had moved back to Atlanta after over a decade away. She was there to see her nephew, who happened to go to the same school and was in the same production as my other friend's children. We had lost touch because of distance, because of life, because of me; because when I feel like I've hurt someone, even if it's not on purpose, I don't just step back, I full on retreat.

Such was the case with this friendship. I had pinpointed the estrangement to an e-mail that I had sent her years ago, commenting on how much our lives had changed. The purpose of my email was well-intentioned, and I had hoped to convey to her that no matter where she went, or what she did, or who she became, she would always be so dear to me. Dear to me because my memories of her were so very good. There are so many parts of my growing up years, particularly my teenage years, that I have compartmentalized and forgotten, or care not to remember. But my years with her are some of my most precious. When childhood was it's best. When I felt the most loved, the most understood, the most grounded.

When I penned that e-mail, I was at a very raw stage of life though, trying to rebuild after the carpet had been pulled out from underneath me....again. The one-dimensional view from social-media and blogs had her life pegged as charmed, glossy, and perfect in my eyes. I didn't know how to relate. At that point I was sleeping on a mattress on the floor and praying I could scrape together enough food to make my kids' lunches the next day. I just yearned from all that perfection to just have a day with her the way I remembered her. Someone I could just be my weird, awkward, un-glossy self with.

Something that I must have said must have not translated well though, because I never received a response. Maybe she thought I was criticizing her for changing? For becoming someone who seemed different? I don't know. My way of licking my wounds was the same way it has been with every other failed friendship I've had in life... because I've had a few. It seems like every decade of my life has been punctuated with friends that abandon me. And it seems that there has been a common denominator in all those relationships... me. So I must be the problem.

I've carried the weight on my heart for years that I'm the girl no one ever stuck around for. No one fights for. There must be something about me that is inherently not good enough. So, I disappear. I disappear because rejection hurts; and I disappear because I never want to hurt anyone. Sometimes the surest way to not hurt people is to not open yourselves to them. It's warped, but somehow over the years I've convinced myself that it's a logical solution to the fear of being less than what people need.

Suddenly though, this failed relationship that was so important to me, but that I was so scared of, was standing right in front of me. With nowhere to hide, there was nothing to do but swallow my fear, walk up to her, give her a big hug, and tell her how good it was to see her. Because it was.

I gave her my number before leaving and told her to text me if she wanted to reconnect. On the way home Justin asked if I thought she'd call? I told him I didn't know, but that I put myself out there, even when I was scared, and that's all I could do.

She texted me about a week ago, after getting through the holidays and moving into her house, and invited me to grab a smoothie with her and catch up. I thankfully agreed and walked through a door this morning not knowing what to expect.

We talked for two and a half hours, and probably could have doubled it if we didn't have lives waiting for us outside the rustic walls of that corner coffee shop. I've really spent the last couple of years kind of isolating myself. As I talked to Justin on the phone as I drove home, I told him how good it felt to just talk to someone who knew me. Who knew my backstory. Who has known me since I was six years old. When life was simple and I wasn't yet battered by some of the hurts of life.

Here we were, thirty years later, and I could still just talk to her. I didn't have to put on a face, or only talk about the good parts of my life. I could be real. And that's what I so desperately needed; to just be real.

It made me sad to think that I had convinced myself that being lonely was safe. Because in my isolation I have cheated myself out of connection. I don't care how old you are, how introverted you are, what battle wounds you carry from relationships, we all need to feel connected. And it's worth the fight, it's worth the time, it's worth the fear.

I have some work to do, and I know old patterns, old thoughts, and old lies that I've told myself aren't going to disappear over night. Connection takes bravery and courage and vulnerability, and all those things are hard. But I can feel myself being strong enough to do hard things... and I can't even begin to tell you how good that feels.

Still Water. Still Mind.

The water on the lake was still this morning. It was so beautiful, as it reflected the ever-lightening morning sky. In the past couple of days I've been able to have some conversations I needed to have. Being a listener and being trusted is a gift, and I'm grateful to have access to people like that in my life. It's amazing how sometimes once you can get things out of your brain and out in the open, it frees up all kinds of space inside us for new thoughts and new emotions. It frees up space to let go. I woke up this morning and felt good. My mind was quiet and still, and I could feel the things that were weighing on me ease and lighten. I get to start over today, and that feels really good.

Snow Days, Off Days, & Texts with Mom

I bet you thought I had flaked, right? That my whole desire to blog more lasted a week and then faded?

You're not going to be rid of me quite that easily this time around.

Actually, starting Friday evening we had snow. The magical, once-a-year experience here in the South had the house in a bundle of excitement. Instead of writing I was out walking the streets in the dark with my firstborn, seeing if she could catch any pictures of the flurries of snow in the dim light on her new camera.

This was Maryn's shot of the snow flurries in the glow of the street lamp.

Saturday was sledding, napping, eating, being a bum, and not feeling a morsel of remorse for being off-track. It was glorious.

Then with Sunday came some feelings I needed to sort out, and I didn't feel like writing. Everyone gets mad. But no one wants to be memorialized years from now for what they wrote in anger. At least not me. I want to be real, but not angry.

And that takes me to today. My mom and I were just casually texting back and forth, which I love, because we don't do it nearly often enough, because McLean's are a lovable bunch and some of the absolute worst at keeping in touch, myself fully included, and it just felt so wonderfully normal! It made me wonder why we don't do it more often?!

Between yesterday and today the thoughts percolating in my mind were trying to analyze my feelings over the last couple of days. I take care of people, I love them, I encourage them, it's what I do. It's just a part of me to want to help others, to champion them, support them, and rally around them. I like that part of me. But then on the flip side I feel like I've notoriously put myself on a back burner in terms of what I deserve, what I should expect in others, and so on in life. I don't like that part of me. I'm working on balancing the two, and while standing up for myself feels amazing, I hate that a part of me feels like I'm compromising that nurturer in me too.

So that's where my brain is at. When do I make a point and stand my ground because I deserve it and when do I let it go...

It's easy to get frustrated with ourselves in those areas of our personality that are undergoing renovations. To know who we want to be, but still having to be patient with the dust required as we undergo the work of working on ourselves.

It goes back to my previous post about patience...

I appreciated my mom's words though as we messaged back and forth. I was telling her that I had recently made amends with one of my cousins for some insensitive remarks I had made years earlier. (My brain has the best of intentions, my mouth is slowly in the process of acquiring a filter. Sometimes it gets me in trouble. That adds to the struggle of introversion, because you never know if opening your mouth is worth the risk... Sometimes it's just a lot easier to be a hermit.) Anyways, my lovely mother said...

I told her that one of the very best things about a mom is that they don't see your life in the same snippets that others do. Or even ourselves. We can compartmentalize ourselves or allow ourselves to be compartmentalized by others; but mothers, they see the whole picture, the whole story, before our self-awareness was even developed, and can be our eyes to help us see ourselves more clearly.

It is okay for me to stand up for me and it doesn't have to be a compromise of myself. Because who I am is someone who cares, and always will. Loving myself and championing myself won't get in the way of that. It's not either or, it's not black or white. This is me, in all my varying shades, and that's okay.

I'm really grateful for my mom and her eyes, and their ability to help me see and catch glimpses of my greater, more whole, big picture self.

Morning Walk

My mantra for today is patience. Patience. And faith. When I left for my walk this morning it was dark. I had to look down to see where I was going. But slowly, imperceptibly light came. Rising on the horizon, casting it's hope across the world in oranges and pinks, until the darkness slowly yielded to a glimpse of blue skies. Of a new day. Of new possibilities. Of a new outlook. Good things will come to those who diligently seek patience and faith.

Work...

I've really been having a hard time with the mental drain that is work lately. I have a good job. My boss is fair. It works with my schedule about 75% of the time. The people I work with are good people, and for the most part easy to be around. And yet....being there lately just takes the life out of me.

I've examined my feelings, trying to figure it out. At times I can pinpoint it to certain people. But when I step back and am objective, I know, like I said, that I work with good people, who are just trying to live their lives. It's not as if they lay awake at night trying to conspire ways to zap my energy.

What it is, I think, as grateful as I am for a good job, is knowing I will never have a voice there. Just shut up and work, and smile when you are supposed to. I could go into specifics, but I won't. I will just suffice it to say, some people want to give so little that they aren't concerned that it's at the expense of their team or morale. To overcompensate, others care so much they can't relinquish any control, rendering all others voiceless. Negativity over some situations suck some into a vortex of worry and perceived offenses, that then permeates the work environment. Everything must be fair, even if it's not practical or beneficial. If someone is happy, that means someone else must be unhappy. Smile to ones face and then whisper behind ones back. Above all else, never say how you really feel out loud. Having an opinion is looked down upon, or causes so much drama it's not worth the investment. Offense is so fragile a thing to some that they must be handled as if you may emotionally crack them at any moment. It's exhausting. I just want to be able to go to work and do my job.

I know the only thing I can change is myself, and I know that I am not perfect. But I already have so much on my plate in life, that I struggle with having to give so much mental energy to a situation I really can't control or change. I've tried and nothing ever changes. I'm not in a position to not work right now. So I know that I have to work on the change I can control, and that is me committing to take it all with a grain of salt. But some days it's hard, and I find myself wishing there was some place for me. A place where everyone wanted to be there, and everybody wanted to give their very best, and team was not a word, but an environment in which every person was equally committed to creating. That's what I wish for.

BofM365

I started the year out last year really wanting to read the Book of Mormon again cover to cover. It seemed like it didn't take too long before life got in the way, and inconsistency on my part led to a lack of seeing that goal come to fruition. I'm not going to beat myself up about it, I'm just going to try again this year, only with more of a plan. Justin told me the other day that he was following an account on Instagram called BofM365 that maps out all your reading for the year for you. All you have to do is the recommended reading assignment every day and by the end of the year you've read the whole Book of Mormon.

 I've also incorporated in my personal study this study guide that I bought last year, but didn't get too far into. I like having the reading assignments from BofM365 that are totally manageable, but then spending a few more minutes getting to digest what I'm reading about in the study guide is nice. It focused mostly on doodling and visuals, and while I'm not much of an artist, the doodling, drawing, or writing key phrases down is making the study a little more interesting.

I started putting the kids in bed at 7:30 the last few days, instead of 8:00 or 8:30, and telling them to spend 5-15 minutes on personal study by themselves and then they could read a book of their choosing. That carves out time for me, before I'm too cranky, to sit down and work on my own study without distraction, and then gives me a few minutes to catch up on here before I go tuck them in at 8:30. I know we are only three days into the new year, but I'm kind of liking our new routine! I'll try to make myself be accountable on here from time to time with how I'm doing. I really hope to stick to it this year though. Lauryn was saying last night that she didn't understand everything she was reading. I told her that was okay; that there were promised blessings just by doing her part and doing it. I know that's so true. The times in my life where I was consistently letting the scriptures be a part of my daily life, I felt those blessings come to fruition, in so many different ways. The power of the scriptures is real!

Family Home Evening & Prayers Answered

Today was a busy day. It was the last day of the kids' Christmas Break. We were busy trying to tackle to-do lists before the rush of schedules and real life was back in full swing. Putting away Christmas decorations, menu planning, grocery shopping, doing housework, and we went hiking together as a family on the trails in our neighborhood. Like I said, it was a good day in all, but the girls have had a lot of togetherness over Break and were getting under each others skin.

There is something you should know about my kids. I love them with all my heart and soul, but they are LOUD! Non-stop talking, and talking over each other on top of that. Picking little fights that lead to unnecessary tears and drama. Not listening to instructions the first time, which make me have to repeat myself. (I LOATHE having to repeat myself!) Don't get me wrong, they are good kids, but by the time dinner was over I felt physically and mentally exhausted, and ready for bedtime.

In the past month Justin, who has struggled with his relationship with God for most of our married life, has been working on rekindling his testimony, and returning his focus to letting the Gospel of Jesus Christ be the center of his life and goals. Needless to say, this change of heart has been an answer to many, many years of earnest and heartfelt prayers from me, and many others who sincerely love Justin. This change has brought about a lot of new things in our relationship that I have waited for for a very long time. I can feel through Justin's efforts my burdens easing, and tonight was no exception.

Before I always felt the weight of knowing that my children's religious and spiritual foundation rested solely on my shoulders. I love the Lord very much and was willing to carry any load He saw fit to give me; but there was so much to do that I just did not feel equipped for. Working, raising kids, running a house, making family prayers - morning and night happen, daily family and personal scripture study, Family Home Evening every week, serving in church, homework, activities, family finances, trying to focus on and connect with each child, make sure school was going okay, temple attendance, and the list goes on. It felt like so, so much and I struggled doing it all on my own. I would find myself on my knees pleading to my Father in Heaven to fill in the gaps that my inadequacies left. I was doing the best I could, but there was just so much, and I was just one person.

Tonight as we finished dinner, I slumped in my chair, exhausted and trying to muster up the energy to get the nightly kitchen clean-up delegated and enforced. There was no part of me mentally or physically that was up for preparing and presenting a Family Home Evening lesson this Monday night. I found an answer to prayers as Justin stepped in and took care of the whole lesson. He pulled out his old notebook from his mission and shared stories with the girls about his experiences with prayer. He was candid about his absence from church for a long time, and the prayers that were answered that sparked his return to the gospel. When the lesson was over Lauryn said "Dad, thank you. That was a really great lesson."

I was still tired, but I didn't feel weary, because I was thankful. Thankful that I'm not alone in this marriage spiritually anymore. Thankful that I have someone here who is working towards the same eternal goals that I have wanted for so long. Thankful that Heavenly Father is a God of miracles. Thankful that my husband's heart has been softened. Thankful that after a crazy, loud, kind of disobedient day, that we could sit down together as a family and feel the spirit together. Thankful that even on the crazy days, I can lay my head down at night and say to myself "God is good. All the time," and really be able to feel the truth of those words in my own life.

God IS good. All the time. And I'm really thankful for that.

Hello 2017

It seems throughout the years I've resolved a million times to stop neglecting this poor blog. Even though today is New Years Day, I'm not back to fulfill some sort of rigid resolution. I'm here again because I am so appreciative of the me that took the time, years ago, to document her life. From time to time, when a memory is sparked, I will log on and search old posts to see what I wrote. I'll see the days and years represented. The hardships, triumphs, inspiration, stupidity or humor, successes and things unrealized, and it's all here. It's a piece of me.

When I think back to this past year, I realize that 2016 was an interesting one. I had so much to be thankful for, and yet in many ways I struggled personally. Ways that challenged me not to write; as if those struggles wouldn't etch their way into my heart and story if I didn't write them down. Ways that made me want to hide and isolate myself, afraid to really let anyone know me or the quiet things I carried. But in this year of personal challenges, I also learned a lot about love and it's reaches. I gained new insight into what it feels like to experience grips of depression, and it afforded me the ability to see others with more empathy. I learned about the absolute relief that comes with a willingness to let my Savior carry my burdens, and trust in my Heavenly Father's will and timing for my life. I learned that despite my perceived weaknesses, that I am so much stronger than I ever thought. I learned how much my family loves me. I learned that I can have friends and be a friend. Despite what was hard, I am so grateful for every minute of it. Every humbling moment of searching. Every gesture of pure love and support. I'm thankful that as the year closed I could look in the mirror and truly know that I am enough.

Moving forward into this new year of 2017, where possibilities are whatever I choose to make them, I feel my mind is cleared and at peace from the lessons 2016 taught me. I feel more like me than I have in awhile, and I'm ready to be back, and be honest, and to share a piece of me on here. I mostly anticipate that I will probably be my only reader, and I'm okay with that. Because I'm here for me, and future me will love my guts for it.

Book Club & Course Correction

   Maybe I call myself a hermit crab too much and it has become something of a self-fulfilling prophesy? Tonight when I came home Justin told me he was proud of me, for doing something he knew was out of my comfort zone. I like to be in my own bubble, living life on my own terms. Where the people around me are as devoted to me as I am to them. Is this me, or is it a wall I have built over time and through formative years of perceived rejection?

   I am not anti-social by any means. I can laugh, carry on a conversation, make eye contact, give a firm handshake. All those things that don't make me a darting-eyed, social freeb. (Although I do get nervous and fight a pounding heart and shaky voice when I know all eyes in the room are on me, and only me.) However, despite being able to 'put on a good show' as my mother (who is very much like me in that way) says, I avoid social situations with people I don't know, as much as I can. I am just as happy to be with my family and extremely small group of people I would actively seek out.

   But Maryn made a friend this year named Bridgette Bissell. Bridgette has a mother named Suzanne. It is crazy odd how much the four of us all just seem to have known one another before, in the sense that we can just relate. Maryn has found someone in Bridgette who gets her, and vice versa. I have been amazed at how everytime I talk to Suzanne I find it almost eerie how much she just kind of seems to get me, even though I have myself pegged as a friendly odd-ball.

   Long story short, Suzanne started a book club and invited me to come sit with a room full of strangers and talk about books. I like books...even if talking to strangers sounds about as fun as a squirt of lemon juice in the eye. But I like Suzanne and want to support her and more importantly get to know one another better. So I go. And I have a little shaky voice when everyone is staring at me as I introduce myself, but I survive. And I meet some really great women. Of course their is the over-opinionated, offbeat neighbor who Suzanne invited so as not to offend. But two women in particular, Tita from Columbia and Alejandra from Peru, I had a wonderful time talking with after the group discussion. It wasn't like the obligatory small-talk that usually sets me on edge.

   They talked about their cultures and how important it is that their children have a sense of where they came from. I talked about how when I was a girl I envied my Greek best friend because she had a culture. I know I do too, but I don't have it documented. There are stories I want to learn. Stories I want to tell. Experiences about our backgrounds that I want to share with my girls, except that I don't know what they are yet.

   I am currently working towards a degree in Healthcare Administration that is about as practical as it gets. It was never a dream of mine, but lean times in the past have left me in fear of the unknown and it is a steady, responsible choice. Somewhere lurking in the back of my mind is the feeling, that I must know if my world gets pulled out from under my feet again, that I can make it. That I can take care of myself and those I love.

    But I am tiring of fear of the unknown being the motivator of my focus. I am tiring of becoming educated solely to make a living. I want my education to give more meaning to my living. I want the things I learn be something that I can draw my kids into, rather than isolate myself with. I don't want to study business law, statistics, or memorize anatomy and codes. I want to leave a legacy. I want to learn my story and tell it, and I want to tell the story of those who went before me and never got to say it. I want my daughters to know all the parts and places on their Family Tree that they belong to and are intertwined with. Instead of the responsible Bachelor's in Healthcare Administration, I want to get my Associate's in Family History Research.

    It makes me wonder if Heavenly Father prodded me out of my comfort zone tonight, to a new friend's house, so that I could learn about two interesting ladies and their cultures? I wondered if He knew that that conversation was sprouted to help me realize what it is I want to to with my time academically, as impractical as it is. I feel like the meaning I have been searching for has just been unearthed.

Being Loved

    As I went to the sink to wash my hands I looked up and caught my reflection in the mirror. I smiled because the face staring back at me was one I hadn't seen in awhile. She looked amused, with eyes that twinkled like they knew something. Her face looked tired, yet rested at the same time. Her hair was askew, but playful. The flush on her cheeks captured days gone past; while the lines on her face, like the corners of her eyes that happily crinkled like tissue paper, told a story of life lived. Missing was the dull eyes, the slumped shoulders and the deep, drudging lines of stress and sleep deprivation pulling on her face. Even at the hour where one day imperceivably meshes into another, she looked almost...beautiful.

    Life has been so busy for Justin and I, with school, work, and other obligations. It feels like we hardly see each other anymore. But this weekend, he is mine. We watched a movie together, pretzeled on the couch, legs and arms all intertwined. We laughed at the -isms in our personalities that we have each grown to find endearing. We walked under the inky, black sky of a flawlessly clear night, speckled with stars, and wondered why it had been so long since either one of us looked up? We filled our lungs with the sweet scent of honeysuckle that meandered it's way through the still night air. He listened as I jabbered about the transport I felt to my childhood days on Autumn Ridge Parkway, when that delicate sweetness seeped into my senses. We made plans to take our Little Women strawberry picking once the sun rises and yields a new day. We marveled at the half life lived while our freezer has been devoid of scrumptious, sweet, tart, ruby-red, strawberry freezer jam. (You know life is far too busy when you have subjected yourself to over a year of mediocre, store-bought jam!) We looked into each others eyes and smiled. We kissed like teenagers. We basked in the absolute comfortability of married life. I know him, he knows me. There is no face to put on, no pretense, no uptightness. Just pure, comfortable honesty.

    The man who put the twinkle in my eye, and smooths lines from worry to lines of life, lies next to me in bed right now. Softly snoring ever so slightly, as his chest rises and falls. When I am with him, without distractions, I can feel the burden lift. Life without him weighs me down. Like trying to run against the current of the ocean's waves. With him by my side I can feel those waves start to recede, and each moment is a step closer to dry, warm sand where I can lay and rest without fear in that moment of being swept away. The woman who carries so much responsibility is free to just be the girl he loves.

    As the upturned corners of her mouth caught me off guard and smiled back at me in the mirror tonight, my reflection whispered to me a truth that had escaped me for awhile amidst the stress of life. One that age, circumstance, or life cannot erase. Being loved makes you beautiful.

Hanging On Extra Tight

    Sometimes in life you have the opportunity to see the way your life could have played out right in front of you, in a way that shakes you to the core. It makes you scared and grateful all at once, like standing on the other side of an accident that should have killed you. I have had the opportunity to reflect over the last week, as I have watched heavy things go down in a friend's life, on how it's the small moments that have the greatest impact. It's all these tiny bits and pieces, those choices, that lead us up to the defining moments where we see what we are made of.

    I can't tell you how many times I have walked up to Justin in the last few days and just tilted my head into his neck, right under his chin, where we fit together just right, and breathed him in. We are here, he is mine, and we made it. We weathered the storm. We have talked about how scary it is to realize how close we came to losing it all. That our lives could be separate right now. That pictures of those moments that a life was built on could be nothing more than a painful reminders of distant, happier past life.

   I have shed tears at the loss of others and gotten down on my knees and thanked God for preserving our marriage. For repairing what was broken. For speaking to us, and helping us to have ears to hear, so that when those small moments led up to those defining decisions, His will was known. I am grateful He knew what we didn't. That this life was worth fighting for. That our marriage had the power to become what we each needed it to be, even when it seemed all was lost. That beyond anger and hurt of the past was friendship in it's truest form waiting on the other side.

   I wish I could tell my friend in a way that she would hear that beauty can be born from heartache, and a deeper love from from our hardest times. But I feel like I am shouting into the wind, and my words aren't heard. All I can do now is hold on extra tight, and thank my Father above for giving us the strength to fight for this life. To remember how close we came to losing it all. To know that happy families don't just happen. To remember that anything worth having in life is worth working and fighting for.

   As I tuck under his chin, and his arms envelope me as they pull me close, I know my life with Justin is just as it should be. We are a miracle. Our life together is a miracle. And I will thank God every day for it.

Just Keepin' It Real

I am 100% over this semester and just wish I could blink and it would be over with. I feel like my entire life has become a juggle of work and school and very little enjoyment otherwise. Bleh. I just want my life back!

She Will Find What Is Lost

"She Will Find What Is Lost"

Brian Kershisnik

A friend shared this painting with me. It reminded me very much of the feeling I recently shared of having unseen hands lifting and guiding my path. I am so grateful for Heaven's help in this mortal journey.

Asking Forgiveness

   Many times when I find myself in prayer, asking for forgiveness for the same offenses over and over, I want to shrink at my weakness, rather than bring them to the Lord...again. I was impatient. I was quick to anger. I wasn't soft-spoken. I was too opinionated. The list could go on.

    I am well aware that my road to perfection has a lot of speed bumps and pot holes. Sometimes the adversary can get in my ear and tell me to not bother to pray. That Heavenly Father is tired of the daily report of my imperfections. However, peace came to my heart as I read Helaman 3:27 where it said "Thus we see that the Lord is merciful unto all who will, in the sincerity of their hearts, call upon His holy name." 

    It's nice to be reminded that the Lord isn't merciful to just the star students of life who only have good reports. He is merciful to all, who in humility can bring their shortcomings to His feet, and offer them up, and ask for His help. It brings me peace to know that while I don't deserve it, Jesus Christ fills the gaps I create daily, through His atoning sacrifice. Their love for me, despite my unworthiness, makes me want to keep picking myself up and trying, knowing Their mercy is there to help me through each day. It is my prayer that as I continue to bring my flawed self to Their feet, that eventually my actions will become a truer reflection of my love for them.

The Lord Provides

   I think we all will find times in our lives where we feel stretched thin and fear that we can not accomplish all that has been asked of us. Maybe it is embarking on a journey in continuing our education and struggling to find balance with our everyday lives. Maybe it is accepting a new assignment or calling at work or church. Perhaps we struggle in a relationship that requires much personal sacrifice to help it grow. Whatever the circumstance may be, I find such peace in knowing that the Lord is there to sustain us as we turn to Him in all things.

   Alma and his companions found this sustaining influence as they prayed for and sought wisdom in their dealings with the Zoramites before splitting up and going forth to preach the word of God. In Alma 31:37-38 it says "And after that they did separate themselves from one another, taking no thought for themselves what they should eat, or what they should drink, or what they should put on. And the Lord provided them that they should hunger not, neither should they thirst; yea and he also gave them strength, that they should suffer no manner of afflictions, save it were swallowed up in the joy of Christ..."

   They had a tall order in front of them and surely knew they would be met with some opposition. Yet they were blessed with a single-minded faith in God's plan and in His peace. They did not worry about the details because they knew Heavenly Father would work it out. I had a similar experience this week. Sunday morning I was seriously considering dropping my classes because my schedule for the next couple months is even busier than "normal" for me (which is already very busy) and I wasn't sure I would be able to keep up with my coursework. As I thought on it though, I came to feel a certain peace and the thought came to not stress how the whole semester would be handled. Rather I felt impressed to take it day by day, having faith that the Lord could help me accomplish the things I didn't think I could do alone. I am so grateful that the stresses and requirements of life can be taken in stride as they are swallowed up in the joy of Christ and in the knowledge that we are in His care.