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?