back to school

Well y'all. This was a pretty crazy week. Honestly, I thought that coming back to real life would be  easier than missionary life. I don't know why I thought that, just somehow I believed that nothing could ever be as stressful as the mission. Wrong. I mean it was a good week and all, just a little hectic.

School is good. I've never been such a good student. No joke. I've really enjoyed learning and planning and going to class. I decided to have my own little "weekly planning sessions" so to speak, mostly just to give myself a moment to sit down and figure out when the heck I'm going to do all my homework. So far it has been a successful choice. I spent several hours on Saturday getting ahead on some of my readings for my classes. Work was good too. I love my job. Seriously, there is nothing better than working with students all the time. I loved loved LOVED being able to get to know so many people this week.

But life wouldn't be normal if there wasn't a little crazy thrown in there, right? Ashlie's car overheated. Like a lot of times. So we had all kinds of adventures pulling over on the side of the road, turning off the engine at stop lights, spending 30+ minutes at a gas station, going to Auto Zone late at night in really nice clothes, turning on the heater and smelling burning rubber, walking 12 blocks at 10pm to turn in our rent, etc. She found a quick fix for it this week until she can take it to be repaired.

One of my companions came to visit me. We had a blast! We didn't even do anything - just went to a really great pizza place and sat on my couch and talked. I ran into some friends from freshman year on campus and we sat outside of the library for an hour just talking about our missions.

On Friday night, my roommates and I went to the Provo Rooftop Concert Series. I didn't even know that thing existed. It was a great experience, but not quite as much of a dance party as we were looking for, so we left after the first band and went to the Guru Block Party for a couple of hours. We stopped by Sodalicious on the way. I'm being exposed to all kinds of Provo culture that I didn't even know existed. We got home at 2 am and I was so tired. My feet and legs were aching from all that dancing. I think I'm dance-partied out for the rest of my life.

Now that I've updated you on all my experiences, here's something I've been thinking about a lot. At the end of my mission I wrote/talked/though a lot about something my first mission president's wife said - "You fought hard for the growth you gained on your mission. Don't go home and go back." I've been pondering about what that means, particularly as I've considered what things I want to let back in to my life and what things I want to leave out. I think that's been the hardest part of coming home. It's hard to stay changed when everyone expects you to be who you used to be.

It makes me crazy when people tell me, "oh you'll get used to that," or "you'll be normal soon." Because what if I don't want to be over it? And what if this is normal for me? I mean it's not like I have it all figured out right now, but I already know that there are some parts of the girl I was before that I don't actually want to have in my life anymore. That girl was so unhappy and I have such different priorities now. Gracious. There are a lot of choices to make. But I'm starting to understand why returned missionaries are so "awkward" so to speak. Part of it is that I forgot to to act in certain situations, and part of it is that I'm uncomfortable, but most of it is just that I'm different.

I read this awesome conference talk this week. I started reading all the conference addresses from the year I was born. This one is by Glenn L. Pace in the October 1992 General Conference. (Here is the link.) My favorite part is this quote: "I believe the time has come for all of us to feast on the fruit of our own testimony as opposed to the testimony of another person. The testimony of which I speak is much deeper than knowing the Church is true. We need to progress to the pint of knowing we are true to the Church. We also need to increase our capacity to receive personal revelation. It is one thing to receive a witness that Joseph Smith saw God and Christ. It is quite another to have spiritual self-confidence in your ability to receive the revelation to which you are entitled." Wow. Put that together with this quote from David A. Bednar: "The essence of the gospel of Jesus Christ entails a fundamental and permanent change in our very nature made possible through the Savior's Atonement. True conversion brings a change in one's beliefs, heart, and life to accept and conform to the will of God and includes a conscious commitment to become a disciple of Christ...Conversion is an offering of self, of love, and of loyalty we give to God in gratitude for the gift of testimony." (and here is the link to that one)

So I've been thinking a lot about who I really am. Which changes did I fight for on my mission that I want to keep? What part of me came from becoming more deeply converted to the Lord? What offerings of self do I need to give back to my Father in Heaven because of the testimony that He has given me?

That's all.

#reallife

Coming home from a mission is strange. People keep asking me about it, and all I can really say is that everything is weird. Everything. But nothing is at the same time. It doesn't make any sense at all, and I guess that's okay.

I changed my blog. That shouldn't be too shocking though, because almost everything about my life has changed these days. But after a year and half of weekly blogging, I wanted to write about my post mission life. Partially so everyone could keep reading about my life, partially to keep a record of my experiences. Things aren't as exciting outside of the mission. Life goes on at a slower pace and things have more of a predictable rhythm. 

This was a good week. I moved back to Provo two weeks ago. Man. It was hard hard HARD to leave my family again. Y'all. Those people mean the whole entire world to me. But it's good to be back. I went back to work right away. We had 54 hours of training. (yep, count 'em) It was a wonderful reminder of how much I LOVE my job. Seriously, I have the best job in the world. It is such a wonderful experience to focus on meeting the needs of others. There are all kinds of parallels between mentoring and mission life, and that's great. 

After all that training, I went to NSO (New Student Orientation). I met all of my students and learned all the things I had forgotten about BYU. That's been a strange thing for me, actually - realizing how much about college and work I have completely and totally forgotten. I crammed so much gospel knowledge in my brain that there just wasn't room for anything else, I guess. It's almost worst than being a freshman because everyone expects me to know what is going on and I've pretty much forgotten everything I know. Anyways, sorry about the tangent...NSO. It was good. I wrote down some deep thoughts. One of my favorite things was a quote from Karl G. Maeser that is on the wall in the Education in Zion exhibit on campus (this exhibit talks about the history of religious education in the Church and at BYU). The quote said, "Precisely as you partake of the Spirit, so will you progress in your studies."

This has given me a lot to think about. I've been making vision and goals and plans for my semester, and thinking about the things that really matter. Largely I've been thinking that I should be much more focused on learning than on grades. I love the idea that they presented while we were in the exhibit - education is for eternity. What an amazing idea! I mean it's the truth, right? The Lord encourages us to seek learning out of the best books (D&C 109:7). 

Classes start on Tuesday. I'm slowly remembering the parts of college life that are less than glamorous, aka studying, tests, homework. I hope I'm ready for all of this again. Sometimes I still wonder why it wasn't a better idea to take a semester off and spend time with my family. But I prayed about it a lot and this is where Heavenly Father needs me to be.

Church was good today. One of the speakers in sacrament meeting talked about covenants. She talked about how we have to be changed to be in the presence of God, and then noted that covenants are the steps we take to change ourselves to be prepared to be in the presence of God. She encouraged each of us to spend time each day thinking about how we can more fully live our covenants. That's an interesting thought. How do my covenants change me? Well they should make me something different. They should make me like my Father in Heaven. There's this quote from John Taylor that I keep in my journal. He says, "When men say unto us, you are not like us, we reply - we do not want to be. We want to be like the Lord."

Ashlie and I went to the temple yesterday. Beautiful. Just beautiful. I love the temple. It always makes me think of my mission. It's so wonderful to just sit and feel the Spirit and remember what really matters. I'm so grateful I got to be a missionary. So grateful. Those experiences will forever change my life.

That's all.

two zero one two

Happy New Year! On January 1, 2012, I wrote this in my journal: "It's 1 am. I'm sitting on the couch in the game room, eating leftover cheesecake and pretending that I'm going to pack but knowing that I'm not really going to do that. I have so many things I want to say, more than I could write here. This is the year of changes." I literally started laughing after I read that. 2012 certainly was a year of changes, but none of them were anything like the changes I was expecting.

Here's a list of just a few of the crazy adventures I had in 2012.

I got my first real job at the BYU Bookstore and will be forever grateful for the blessings that came through those paychecks.

I got my second real job as a Peer Mentor and ended up leaving the bookstore as I fell completely in love with mentoring and the Freshman Mentoring Program. This job has changed my perspectives about the world and has made me a better student, friend, and person. I will never be the same because of the experiences I have had during my eight months of employment here, and I am so excited to come home from my mission and return to mentoring.

I failed every single one of my Winter semester finals. I walked out of the last one, fighting back tears, certain that I would lose my job, and literally feeling like the world was ending. When I walked into my apartment, I found it full of many of my good friends, all hard at work packing up my things that I hadn't had time to pack. By a marvelous miracle, and some really large curves, my ending grades still came out as all B+'s and A-'s, so I kept my job. God is always looking out for us.

Natalie and I drove all the way to California for a wonderful weekend vacation where we stayed with my aunt and uncle, accidentally drove across the Golden Gate bridge, and watched one of our great friends marry the love of her life.

Natalie, Marlee, and I moved into a new apartment at King Henry. We leaned on each other as we mourned the passing of Natalie's father, and Brian Cook, a close friend. Natalie's car died on the side of the road, and we learned how to walk everywhere and utilize public transportation. My brother came to visit me and attended EFY at BYU, and my mom came to visit and helped me pack up in preparation to move again.

Natalie and I moved to Southridge and discovered BYU's most social ward. I learned how to go without a heater in 15* weather, rain, and snow, when we got our first utility bill for $45.

After lots of praying, searching for guidance, I sat and listened to General Conference (link to President's Monson's announcement about the change in missionary ages) and in an answer to prayers, decided to go on a mission. (link to my post about deciding to go on a mission)

So I moved again, back to my parent's house in Texas. I bought all the clothes I needed for my mission, dropped out of school, so to speak, and got ready to leave. I am grateful that things didn't turn out exactly the way I was expecting, and am so excited for this next great adventure!

Here's to 2013, another year full of changes and crazy experiences.

That's all.

called to serve (or the story of why I chose to serve a mission)

About a month and a half ago, I experienced what I would call my mid-college crisis. I'd say midlife crisis, but I'm hoping that my 20s aren't the middle of my life, so the term doesn't really apply. I started to feel like I didn't know what I was doing with my life. I felt like I had no direction, no purpose. It seemed like suddenly everything I was doing didn't feel right.

In a desperate plea, I turned to my Heavenly Father. Earlier in my life, when I was trying to decide which college to attend, I made a promise to God that I would go wherever He wanted me to go and do whatever He wanted me to do. In this low moment, I reaffirmed this commitment. I wanted so badly to get out of the funk that I was stuck in and I knew that He would have the answers for me.

It was time for me to visit my bishop to renew my temple recommend. In the interview, he asked me how things were going. I mentioned that I'd been struggling with this feeling of being stuck. He wisely advised me to listen during conference in the upcoming weekend. 

I kept praying, asking my Father in Heaven to tell me anything at all about what He wanted me to be doing. I just wanted to feel like I was going down the right path, like I was doing the right things.

My friends and I got together to watch conference at my apartment. We were all sitting on the couch, reminiscing about things that had happened the last time that we watched conference. We were eating pancakes with whipped cream, talking and laughing so much that we almost missed the announcement. But the second that I heard President Monson announce that sisters would be able to serve missions at age 19, it was like a glimmering beam straight from Heaven to my heart. I knew, without any doubt, that this was my answer. 

I started jumping and screaming and crying at the same time. I couldn't even sit still, I was so excited. I think I missed everything else that happened during the first session. My phone wouldn't stop buzzing as everyone I knew started texting me, telling me that I was the first person they thought of when they heard the announcement. 

I skyped my parents between sessions and we discussed the idea. With their support,  I began work on my mission papers. I felt strongly that I needed to leave as soon as possible, so I listed my availability date as January 1st. Things fell together nicely from there. 

 Alma 26:36 says "for this is my life, my joy and my salvation," and that's how I feel about the gospel. This is my whole entire life. My testimony of the Church influences every decision I make. It brings me true joy and happiness and I cannot wait to share that joy and happiness with others while I serve as a missionary. 1 Timothy 1:7-8 says "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power, and love, and of a sound mind. Be thou therefore not ashamed of the testimony of the Lord." I believe this with all my heart. I know that I have no need to be afraid. God will support me as I strive to do the things that He wants me to do. 

I know that this is what God wants me to do. I am beyond thrilled that I have been called to serve as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in the Virginia Richmond Mission. I report to the Provo Missionary Training Center on January 16th, a mere 37 days away!

That's all.

when it rains

Oh, how I love the rain! As I was walking between the library and the office today on campus, the wind started blowing and rain started pouring, and I began to reflect on how much I love rainstorms.

My Utah friends won't understand, really, because they've never experienced Texas rainstorms. But my Southern friends know what I mean. Rainstorms are beautiful and kind of miraculous. The idea that water can magically convert to clouds and then again become water as it falls from the sky is so fascinating. Here I was, walking across campus, looking up at the sky in wonder and awe, recalling my true thoughts about rain.

About two months ago, I was having the absolute worst of days. I had never felt so homesick and I just wanted to catch the next plane to Texas and get away from my life. Deep down I realized that running away from my problems was not the way to make things better, but I wanted to pretend that everything was better in Texas and that leaving would make me happier. 

As I walked to campus that day, I thought about all the things I loved about Texas, and after making a rather lengthy list I realized I missed real rainstorms. In a desperate prayer, I remember looking up at the sky, wishing it would rain. 

And then it began to rain. I started to cry a little bit, so grateful that my Father in Heaven had heard my plea and recognized how much a rainstorm would mean to me. I got to class late, soaking wet, and grinning from ear to ear. My peers around me complained about how inconvenient the storm had been, ruining their hair, making them late, destroying their projects. But it didn't matter, because all I could think about was that the rain meant that God loved me.

Since that afternoon, I've come to love the rain even more. Provo is in the desert, so it doesn't rain that often, but the few times it has sprinkled even a little bit, I just smile and keep it as my own personal reminder that God hasn't forgotten me.

And oh, how I love the rain! 

That's all.

all grown up

When I turned 18, I thought I was so grown up. Becoming a legal adult seemed like the answer to everything. I don't know why I thought this way, but I did. It felt like I was on top of the world. All my big decisions were pretty much made - I knew where I was going to school, I had enough money to get me through the first semester.

Turns out I was wrong. There was so much more to growing up then leaving the home of my parents. I had far more decisions to make then merely to step on that plane. I had to figure out how to make myself get up in the morning. I had to learn how to plan meals and eat the right number of vegetables. I had to learn how to get to class on time and how to go to bed at a reasonable hour. 

So I did it; I learned how to do all those things. I went through an entire semester of life on my own, and successfully discovered how to live independently. I thought this made me an adult.

But I was still wrong. And so here I am, learning how to do even more grown-up things. I paid for my first apartment after spending many hours and days searching, and researching and looking for the right one. I applied for my major after much pondering and worrying over whether I was making the right choice. I started looking for my first real job, not out of convenience or obligation, but out of necessity - if I don't make money, then I won't be able to pay for my rent.

And so, now, once again, I feel like I'm all grown up. But it's different this time. Because I don't feel so independent and adult-like that I think I'm ready to face the world and take on everything that comes my way. Rather, I understand that I'm taking steps toward the rest of my life. And it never stops changing and I never stop learning. Growing up isn't an event, it's a process. 

So here goes nothing.

That's all.

the little things

It's the little things that make me smile:

Walking down the street, listening to my brother on the phone as he demonstrates his ability to accurately count from one to one hundred.

Singing silly songs with my baby sister when she's supposed to be asleep.

Laughing at the fact that my professor failed to show up to Friday class. Again.

Watching the sky, waiting for it to snow, torn between excitement and dread. Will it be as cold as I think it will?

Washing the kitchen sink and catching my reflection in it's gleaming cleanliness.

Sweeping the floor and sighing in relief at the fact that my feet no longer crunch through layers of crumbs and chuckling at the fact that my roommate still doesn't realize that I have yet again given up on waiting for her to do her chores and have resigned to doing them myself.

Listening to my best friend's unbelievable happiness and relishing in the deep understanding between us that allows me to share this moment with her.

Making the sticky notes on my computer desktop line up in proportionate order, the exact amount of space between each one.

Seeing my favorite font on a campus poster advertising the Take Back Beauty movement.

Typing all my hours into my time management project spreadsheet and analyzing how I really spend all my time.

Singing along at the top of my lungs to my favorite Britney Spears song and looking back at the days I drove down the highway, blasting 90s pop music from my car's crappy speakers.

Vacuuming under the bed, then celebrating that the entire house is finally clean! Or at least vacuumed.

Looking at the beauty of the colors of the leaves for one last time before the freeze off during the snow tonight.

Go out and appreciate something small, but wonderful.

That's all.