Get. Over. It.

Missionaries are young. Oftentimes dumb. Myself included.

The Lord knows that eighteen, nineteen, and twenty-something year olds are going to need some guidance, so He gave us Mission Presidents.

A significant problems that plagues our generation, and society at large, is selfishness. For whatever reason, our natural instinct is to look inward, focus on our needs and desires, and disregard all else.

Our Mission President in the Arizona Mesa Mission is really smart.

In a meeting, he once spoke of how sometimes things don't work out for our benefit. Sometimes things are hard and things don't go our way. Not every event in our lives is designed to make us happy. He offered some wise counsel on what to do in those circumstances.

"Get. Over. It."

Sounds harsh. Think about it. In those words are expressed great love.

If we sit around and stew in our own disdain for our circumstances, we won't be happy. Have you ever heard, "life's what happens when you're making plans?"

Or a more appropriate alteration, "life's what happens when you're sitting in your room listening to moody alternative music, fuming about the unfairness of it all."

A Father To Me

I'm certain that no father has any clue how significant of an impact he has on his children. (Except our Heavenly Father, but he's all-knowing; He's got a bit of an advantage.) 

 I'm sure my own dad doesn't know how much he's influenced me. He once sent me a sweet note in which he wrote, 

"The day you were born was both wonderful and scary for me. Wonderful because I was blessed with a beautiful baby girl, and scary because I didn't know the first thing about little girls. But the first time I held you all I could think of was how lucky your mom and I were."

 He may not have known then, but he sure figured out how to be a father to a girly, bow wearing, ballerina. 

Growing up, I thought my dad knew all and had no weaknesses. 

I never even questioned when he told me that Ketchup was invented by "Mr. Ketch and Mr. Up". Trusting, not gullible... 

I thought his "moonwalk" was perfected. I could always count on getting a wink when we made eye contact in Sacrament meeting. 

I was always amazed when he knew how to help me with every problem on my math homework, and afterwards, could flawlessly polish my fingernails and braid my hair. 

And even though he teased me relentlessly (and still does), I thought my dad was superman. H. David Burton said, "Dads make great heroes". I concur. 

My dad travels a lot for business, and he has a time-involved job. But somehow he always made time to come to every dance recital, every science fair, and every "Daddy Daughter" youth activity. 

In The Family: A Proclamation to the World, we learn that the family is central to the Creator’s plan. Central, in my mind, means most important. 

My dad understands that. 

He always put our family as the most important thing in his life. 

Opposition in All Things

"Oh girls, nevermind. Sorry to be rude, but nevermind."

"I would appreciate it if you would stop pounding on my door."

"We aren't Mormon and we're never going to be. Don't come back."

Each of these sentences were punctuated with a slammed door. Me on one side, the speaker on the other. Leaving neither of us confused as to why.

As a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, I have a defining feature that is easily recognizable. My badge.

My badge bears my name, and the name of the church; it represents the most important parts of my life -- my family and my Savior.

And it gives everyone around me permission to scoff, scorn, and ignore me.

Wait, what?

I haven't quite figured that one out yet.

Half of My Heart

Part of being a missionary means that I agree to "go where He wants me to go".

Sometimes that's hard -- sometimes I think I want to stay.

But eventually I realize that God knows best, and I should probably just listen. Because I know that whatever He says I should do, I should do.

I just got the news that I'm getting transferred to a new area.

I've been serving in the Mesa South Stake for the past six months, and it has no doubt been the best six months of my life. I have loved every moment I've spent here. (Or I've loved it in hindsight...)

The thing that made these months here so special for me has been the people I've gotten to associate with. I'm only beginning to understand what Christ's command to "love thy neighbor as thyself" truly means.

Ode to Onions and Lucille Ball

I'm like an onion.

Or a cake. Cake have layers. Everyone likes cake.

But seriously. Lately, I've noticed that the more I change and improve myself, the more I'm aware of how far I have yet to go. One layer comes off, and another bitter, eye-stinging layer is revealed.

It's infuriating.

Here's an example. I consecrate all my time, thoughts, and energy on not cracking my knuckles. It's tough and it takes dedication. But after days and days of concentration, I finally have the sweet, little victory of realizing it is no longer a habit.

Only then, after I've ridded myself of my outermost imperfection, do I recognize my other annoying habit of clicking my tongue. (I provide a never-ending supply of irritating sounds.)


It's a constant, uphill battle to self-improvement. And at times it's discouraging.

Because as we know, in the New Testament, Christ commanded us to be perfect.

Perfect. There are many interpretations of His meaning behind that declaration. The way I understand it is best explained using an example from my life.

Alone in the Universe

I've been thinking lately about my self perception.

And the ever-ambiguous charge to "be myself".

But that requries knowing who "myself" is. When I was younger, I didn't really know. So, utilizing my fourteen-year-old ingenuity, I created an outline.

Smart. Kind. Determined. Perfect love for others. Vast knowledge of current events and all things scriptural. Multitasker. Even tempered. Diligent. Perfect hair. Perfect body. Perfect grades. Good friend. Good sister. Good daughter. Everybody loves me.

The most important part was the last one. I based my success on whether or not people liked me.

That is not a happy way to live, let me tell you.

Over analysing. Constantly comparing. Always doubting.

Bending to that harsh, little voice that wants nothing good for me.

"I know"

I've been thinking a lot lately about what we call a testimony. I think sometimes we get carried away in the dramatics of boldly declaring that 'we know   with every fiber of our being, beyond the shadow of a doubt that something is true.'

And sometimes we do know something that surely.

But sometimes we don't. (I'm talking about myself here.)

Sometimes I say "I know" when I'm not certain. I want to give you a revised edition of my testimony. Things that I can't deny to be true. Things that have been confirmed to me in the most personal, sacred ways.

I know that this gospel is good. I know that through doing my best to live it, I'm a better person and I'm a lot happier. I know that I've been blessed by following God's commandments.

I know that God answers prayers. I've witnessed this too many times to deny it. It's not always in the way I want, or in the way I'm expecting -- sometimes it takes weeks or months or even years. But without fail, He answers me.

I know that through consistent study of the Book of Mormon and application of its teachings, I can find peace and happiness in my life. I know that I can find answers in the Book of Mormon. I can't explain to you all the details of how it came about, I don't know the entire history of each person featured within it's pages, but I know that I love it. I know that it has blessed my life.

Cardboard Cut-Outs

I'm surrounded by people all day. And you probably are too. (Unless you're in solitary confinement, then I'm not quite sure how you got a hold of my blog...) That's just a part of living in the world.

And it's really great! People's lives are so interesting. I don't know why it's so easy for me to think of the people I meet in Carl's Junior as props -- just there to make the scenery more pleasant (Or sometimes less pleasant. Let's be honest). But they're real people and they live real lives, with just as much depth and excitement as I belive my life to have.

I think certain people are put in my life to teach me lessons. (And really good jokes. I learn my best jokes from other people.)

I'm starting to realize that everything that I am and that I've done in life, I owe to all the great examples that are around me. The people around me truly shape my life; I would never be where I am now if not for my family and teachers and friends and leaders. And not the least of which, Jesus Christ.

Answer Key

Anyone who knows anything about the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day saints knows that we love us some modern revelation, and we believe whole-heartedly in an open cannon of scripture (essentially meaning that the Bible isn't the end of what God has to say). The nickname that most people know us by comes from a book -- the Book of Mormon, which we believe to be the word of God -- and we love it.

I would go a step further than saying that the Book of Mormon God's word. It is. That's for sure. In addition to that, it contains the answers to all of life's great questions ("should I get bangs" is unfortunately not considered one of life's great questions).

I tell people that all the time, so I thought I should at least try it out for myself. This morning I thought of a really good question. A question to end all questions. A question that, if answered, had the potential to change my life.

Does God know me?

God's Mouthpiece

Dear Mormon friends (and those familiar with LDS culture) (and other),

Today is a day worth blogging about.

But, let's be honest, everyday of my life is worth blogging about. (sarcasm)

Anyway, someday in the very near future, I will have the privilege of attending a talk given by Jeffery R. Holland. Yes. This is real life.

For all of you in the "other" category (and those not in the other category), this is significant because Jeffery R. Holland is an Apostle for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.

And that's significant because that means he has the authority to receive revelation for the entire world's population.

I tried my best

What keeps us from becoming the best that's within our capacity to become; the best version of us? I read on a fortune cookie, (of all things to inspire this question) "If you refuse to accept anything but the best, you very often get it."

Fortune cookies often inspire deep, soul-searching questions in my mind. (Be careful not to leave me alone with [American] Chineese food for too long.) This one in particular made me question what we define as our 'best'. Often we use the phrase "I tried my best" as an excuse for not getting the desired result, but are we really expecting the very most of ourselves? I don't think we are. Well, I'm not.

The scriptures counsel us to "serve Him with all your heart, might, mind and strength". This year I'm going to

Undeniable Truth

An undeniable truth: we are all more alike than we are comfortable admitting.

I talk to people -- all day, every day. It's practically a full-time job (that I do for free). And I love to do it. Because the more I talk with people, the more I realize how similar all people are.

We all need love. We all need acceptance. And as hard as it is to admit sometimes, we all need each other.

I recently challenged myself to learn to like certain people that I didn't particularly want to have a picnic with.

For the record, I would love to have a picnic
with any of these lovely ladies.

It's been so eye-opening.

When I first came up with this goal for myself, Sister Snyder told me,

#sightandsound

Missionaries are assigned companions - another missionary that we do everything with. We stay together all day, every day. We're always in sight and sound of each other.

That sounds exhausting, right?

Amazingly, it's not. That may have something to do with the fact that I have a pretty great companion - Sister Annie Snyder. She's twenty-one years old. She's from Indiana (not India). And she's the BEST. We've been together for eight weeks, five days, four hours, and fourteen minutes. Not that I'm counting.

 

Things that I love about having Sister Snyder as a companion:

1. We always have an endless supply of breath mints. (That really comes in handy.)
2. We both have a great appreciation for Christmas. You can tell by our matching Christmas bows that we wear in our hair. And our abudant collection of Christmas CD's. And our two mini Christmas trees in our bedroom. And our peppermint essential oils that we like to use for perfume this time of year.
3. We accidentally talk in unison sometimes. And sometimes on purpose.
4. Sometimes we forget that God is watching us. So I have to sing about it so we remember.
5. We both love broccoli and ice cream. But not together. That would be weird.
6. We both quote The District, Napoleon Dynamite, and The Errand of Angels on a very regular basis.
7. We both really love to go running at six thirty in the morning. (That one's a joke.)
8. Sometimes we get lost. But it's always almost always a good experience.
9. When we are angry with each other... Wait, that never happens.
   
10. We help each other to improve and work on our appropriate goals.
11. Our bedroom always smells good.
12. We enjoy the small things. Like midgets, amoebas, and mini-golfing (on P-day of course).
13. Sometimes we forget that bad/sad things are happening around the world, and in our area, and we are happy all the time anyway.  
14. We are good at sharing cupcakes. Sister Snyder eats the frosting, and I eat the cake.
15. We are good at making fun of each other's hair.
16. We have so much fun with our investigators. We think some of them might like us, maybe.

Things that are less good about our companionship:

Smiling is My Favorite!

I love life. I love all of the fun and exciting things that come with living. I also love all of the boring and monotonous things I get to do. I even love don't mind waking up at six thirty every morning. I don't so much love it when bad things happen to me. Like when I rip my favorite jeans, or someone is mean to me, or I do something really embarrassing (all the time, I've learned to live with it).

Even though bad things happen sometimes, I'm still happy.

Even when this happens to my week-old bread. 

I'm learning not to let those things bother me so much. Things happen, and life is sometimes really hard to handle. In those times, I channel someone who is such a great influence.

Buddy the Elf.

The "Glutens"

My companion is gluten intolerant. Sometimes people forget about that, or they don't understand what that entails. Which is fine, unless they're feeding us dinner.

Recently we ate dinner with the sweetest elderly couple. They missed the memo about the gluten-free thing. So they made us lasagna. Which is totally alright with me, I love lasagna.

For those of you who don't know, lasagna is chock-full of gluten.

(Fudge is Gluten-free)

Sister Snyder didn't want to offend. She knew that this dinner was prepared especially for us, so she ate it. Though, after the second piece, she was sore afraid for the well being of her intestine. (She tried to refuse the second piece, but the sweet sister was persitent, and Sister Snyder was polite.) We finished our lasagna, and the kind woman went to get us dessert. I saw her from the kitchen scooping ice cream and heaved a sigh of relief.

She came out with the ice cream, topped with two chewy, chocolate-chip cookies. More gluten.

Sister Snyder, not able to handle more gluten, passed me her cookie under the table as non-chalantly as possible.

Lost in the Meadows

Lost in the Meadows; that should be the title of my month. There's an apartment complex here called the Meadows, and it's kind of like Pan's Labyrinth without all the scary guys. We get lost there - a lot.

And getting lost kind of stinks. But getting lost in the Meadows is kind of the best.

A few weeks ago, we were lost in the Meadows, and we were wandering around the complex trying to find someone's apartment. We stopped a nice looking man and asked him to help us decipher the "map". We got to talking, and we set up an appointment to come back and talk to him about the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Guys. That wasn't a coincidence that we ran into this man.

God Knows That I Love Cookies

I'm going to tell you all a story about cookies. I love cookies, and I firmly believe that God knows that.

*Preface*
As missionaries, we are fed dinner by members of our church, which is so wonderful! It's such a blessing to us, because it allows us more time to focus on our work. And we get to eat with the great people that live here. I love, love, love being fed by members.

A few days ago I was going about my business as a missionary. It wasn't a bad day. It wasn't an abnormal day. But it was long. And I wanted a cookie.

Because someone else was feeding me dinner, I didn't have control over whether or not I got a cookie. I stopped thinking about it, and continued with my work. It was Sunday, so I had six hours of church, then two hours of meetings after. I was so tired and hungry by dinner time.

Trials

Yesterday was a difficult day for me and my companion [Sister Snyder]. It was our only day of the week to run errands, get our laundry done, and grocery shop. The garage door of the house I'm staying at was broken, so I had to park on the street. I didn't think it would be a problem, seeing as I live in a nice neighborhood. Sister Snyder and I were up and ready to leave at 7:50. We walked outside to get in our car and we realized that the driver's side window was broken. Sister Snyder's GPS was taken, and my iPod was taken. This was a problem because we're both new to the area, so neither of us knows our way around quite yet. Though the real problem was the fact that they didn't take the copy of the Book of Mormon that was in the backseat!

I'm not upset that our things are gone, or that we had to use our personal time to clean up the car, or even about the hassel we have to go through. The frustrating part is that I no longer know where I'm going. In trying to keep a positive attitude about the situation, I've come to the conclusion that trials (this one specifically) are for my good. In 2 Nephi chapter two, Lehi tells his son Jacob "thou knowest the greatness of God; and he shall consecrate thine afflictions for thy gain."

My Testimony

Hello friends, and welcome to my blog! I'm new at this -- fair warning. I know I've only been out a few short weeks, but my testimony of my loving Father in heaven, and my faith in his son have grown so much.

I know that I have a Heavenly Father that watches over me and is aware of me -- my shortcomings, weaknesses, and faults. He knows what I'm going through, he knows my thoughts, he knows what's hard for me. He also knows my potential and what I can become, and he loves me more than I can comprehend. With his love, there is no point of no return -- he will always love me, even when I do things that disappoint him. His love is constant and unchanging.