Definitely Mabey

Jake and I got married in French Polynesia on Sept 1, 2017 (exactly 6 years from our first date). It was a beautiful day.

Act I - The Legal Ceremony

I woke up just like any other day but this time in a beach house in Mo'orea. I walked outside to check the weather. It had been raining and windy all week. It was just a little overcast over the mountains but clear over the ocean. I told myself not to get my hopes up - weather is too unpredictable. They say rain is good luck for a wedding though, right?

Jake and I rushed out of the house and winded our way along the island road in our little car. I was feeling all kinds of emotions - anxious, excited, stressed (we were about to be late for our own wedding for heaven's sake). We pulled into the city hall parking lot and jumped out of the car, Jake still fixing his tie, as we rushed into the building. We stool in the hall for just a moment, squeezing each other's hand just a little more tightly than usual. A couple of young Polynesian girls whispering in French smiled at us from down the hall. The Mayor finally approached us wearing a sash across his chest and a medal pinned to his breast pocket. He said something in broken English and then directed us into a humble conference room with old parkay floors, folding tables with fresh flowers lining the front, and a photo of Emmanuel Macron centered on the wall above the head of the table.

The legal ceremony was simple and sweet. With every sentence the mayor spoke my breath got a little quicker and my eyes a little more wet. We promised to love each other, to care for each other emotionally and monetarily and to raise our future children together with love. They pronounced us as married and Jake and I shared our first quick kiss has husband and wife. "We didn't tell you to kiss yet!" the translator laughed. They then handed us a pamphlet that they said was to be filled out with the names of us and our future children. "There are 12 pages in this book and I encourage you to fill out all the pages" the Mayor joked in broken English. I laughed and turned a little red as I realized what he was saying.

"We're married!" Jake and I said to each other over and over again as we drove back to the beach house. Both excited and a little shocked. My mom cheered as we walked in.

Act II - Getting Ready

The morning of the wedding was one of the moments of that day that will always stand out to me. It was calm and quiet. Our beach house had no power outlets in the bathroom, so I was curling my hair in the living room, surrounded by my family.

My mom and I have the same hair - thin, fine, and unable to hold curl worth anything. So naturally we both wanted to curl our hair for the wedding day. I had spent the weekends leading up to the wedding testing out new product until I felt confident it was going to work. Once I finished my own hair I sat my mom down and got to work on hers. You know, there are never enough ways to thank our parents for the role they play in our lives, to thank them for their time, their love, and their energy. As I get older my appreciation grows deeper and deeper yet it feels more and more impossible to adequately show love and appreciation. My sweet mom has given so much, especially leading up to the wedding, so the tender moment of helping her get ready for my wedding day will forever hold a special place in my heart.

It's a trend these days to do a "first look" photoshoot. Before the wedding the bride surprises the groom in her dress and they have a moment alone together before the ceremony. I didn't want to do that with Jake. I wanted the first time he saw me to be on the beach as I walked towards him with my dad so all the emotions of the day could be felt all at once. But my dad hadn't seen my dress yet, so after we got ready, I met him out on the beach and he saw me in my dress for the first time. The emotion in his eyes and the love in his hug are something I will never forget.

Act III - The Cultural Ceremony

Everybody headed to the dock. Everyone except my dad and I. We got in the car a few minutes later and went for a long drive along the beach. We talked about marriage and how it takes work. How patience is integral and trying to win fights is often losing. We sat in silence and soaked in the last few moments before heading to the dock ourselves. The canoe ride was unreal. The sky was barely overcast, the wind and the water were calm, and my heart beat stronger the closer we got to the island.

Ukuleles and drums sounded in the distance as my dad and I walked quickly along the beach towards the canopy where Jake was waiting for me. I was greeted with a lei and the ceremony began with our vows. I stumbled through mine as my voice quivered with emotion as I watched Jake watching me. Jake's vows were beautiful and eloquent. His eyes never left mine. Every promise he made was a promise from deep within his heart - the heart that made me fall in love with him. I wish I could go back to that moment and pause time. To see him looking at me with that love and conviction that I saw for the very first time when he proposed to me. The love and commitment in his eyes is what will keep us going through the good time and the bad.

The Polynesian Priest, in his feather headdress with white robes blowing gently in the breeze, married us in Tahitian, but there are some things that don't need to be understood, to be understood. His eye contact was piercing, he pointed to each of us, pointed to the sky, and held our hands together with such love that both of us felt the excitement of joining our lives together. He blessed us by pouring coconut milk on our hands. He joined our lives by wrapping our hands together in taro leaves. And he brought us together by draping our shoulders in a handsewn Tifaifai quilt. He handed us a certificate made of tapa cloth, with our new Tahitian name and our wedding date inscribed on it. Each of these elements perfectly symbolizing the joining of our lives together.

Jake and I stood together under the canopy, holding each other's hand as we felt a few misty raindrops on our cheeks before the sun peaked out. The right amount of good luck for a beach wedding. The ceremony came to an end with a beautiful performance by the Polynesian dancers. They had such sincerity in their eyes as they danced and we felt so loved. Our mothers were pulled from their benches to dance, then our fathers, and finally the whole group. We laughed, we danced, and we loved.

Act IV - Dinner & Dancing

The family enjoyed tropical drinks on the beach while Jake and I went off to take photos. How grateful I am for a videographer who captured the sweet moments of Jake whispering in my ear, the love and laughter between us, and of course, the beauty of the island.

The dinner table was spread with all the delicacies you would expect on an island - lobster, raw tuna, grilled veggies, and sweet rice. We ate, enjoying the intimate company with the breeze blowing through the trees and the soft waves lapping on the beach in the background.

Jake's and my first dance was a chance for us to catch up on how the day had gone, what we thought of the ceremony, and how we felt our family was doing. He surprised me with the song, "I Won't Give Up" by Jason Mraz, one of my favorites. We danced with our parents, and then danced with the whole family.

Act V - The End

The night came to an end with a fire dance show on the beach. We all joined in and laughed our way through the last few moments of the night, me feeling the day sleeping away and wanting to hold onto it forever.

I wanted a wedding that was uniquely ours - beautiful, intimate, and simple. That's exactly what our wedding was. What a wonderful way to begin.

Article Analysis...

Watching TV Can Lower Children's Self Esteem, Study Finds

I read this article and I like where they think they were going with it. However, I found it to be written very poorly. So naturally I decided to tell them how I felt in a comment after the article. This is what I said...

I find this article weak in its analysis of the study. Had I been willing to purchase the full text of the study I may have found the actual source more credible, but next time I'd like to see mention of how the study came to the a fore mentioned conclusions, rather than just the opinion of the author if this article.

This article makes it seem as though they are claiming that there is a causal relationship between television viewing and self-esteem, without regard to other possible confounding variables. Did they take into account the length of time the children spent watching television and how this may correlate with neglectful parenting - which probably affects self esteem more than television. Did they have historical controls in their observation to show past and present television effects? What about a control group to compare the findings to? How is it that no focus can be given to the type of programming viewed but then a statement like "Parents can help counter these negative effects by choosing programming that reflects positive values and refrains from promoting stereotypes" be made? 

Next time let's introduce some statistical back up to the conclusions stated and it will probably make this article more credible and worth considering.

Do you see what I see...

Himba tribe colour experiment

www.youtube.com

Even since I was a little girl I have always wondered if we all see color the same. What if what I see as red is actually what you see as green but society has taught us both to call it red? I still don't have an answer to this question, but this video is super interesting.

Healthy Child - Healthy World

Watch this video:

A Wake-Up Story, by Healthy Child Healthy World

I am totally an advocate of things like this! I believe in non-toxic house cleaners, making your own baby food to avoid unnatural supplements, using safer plastics, and being green. If I could afford an electric car, organic food, or live only on solar power, I would. Yes, I am a tree hug-er. I've become this way not only from working in a pharmacy and learning about all the effects chemicals have on the body, but also from all my interior design study. Can you believe there are things like VOC's (volatile organic compounds) that your house constantly emits that you are just breathing in; all the time? Things that have been linked to cause lung cancer, headaches, and increases in influenza and allergies?? Scientific advances are wonderful, but are they worth the chemicals and the effect they have on our bodies?

 Watch the video. Download the app. Be aware.

Marriage Is For Losers

(I know I haven't updated my blog for a few months...shame... and I know this doesn't count as a post from me, but I read it on another blog and LOVED it so I wanted to share. Also, I wanted to keep it somewhere that I could find it for when I need it. In the future. Distant future.)

You can be right, or you can be married; take your pick. I can’t remember who told me that, but I do remember that they were only half-joking. The other half, the serious half, is exceedingly important. This is why.

Many therapists aren’t crazy about doing marital therapy. It’s complicated and messy, and it often feels out of control. In the worst case scenario, the therapist has front row seats to a regularly-scheduled prize fight. But I love to do marital therapy. Why? Maybe I enjoy the work because I keep one simple principle in mind: if marriage is going to work, it needs to become a contest to see which spouse is going to lose the most, and it needs to be a race that goes down to the wire.

When it comes to winning and losing, I think there are three kinds of marriages. In the first kind of marriage, both spouses are competing to win, and it’s a duel to the death. Husbands and wives are armed with a vast arsenal, ranging from fists, to words, to silence. These are the marriages that destroy. Spouses destroy each other, and, in the process, they destroy the peace of their children. In fact, the destruction is so complete that research tells us it is better for children to have divorced parents than warring parents. These marriages account for most of the fifty percent of marriages that fail, and then some. The second kind of marriage is ripe with winning and losing, but the roles are set, and the loser is always the same spouse. These are the truly abusive marriages, the ones in which one spouse dominates, the other submits, and in the process, both husband and wife are stripped of their dignity. These are the marriages of addicts and enablers, tyrants and slaves, and they may be the saddest marriages of all.

But there is a third kind of marriage. The third kind of marriage is not perfect, not even close. But a decision has been made, and two people have decided to love each other to the limit, and to sacrifice the most important thing of all—themselves. In these marriages, losing becomes a way of life, a competition to see who can listen to, care for, serve, forgive, and accept the other the most. The marriage becomes a competition to see who can change in ways that are most healing to the other, to see who can give of themselves in ways that most increase the dignity and strength of the other. These marriages form people who can be small and humble and merciful and loving and peaceful.

And they are revolutionary, in the purest sense of the word.

Because we live in a culture in which losing is the enemy (except in Chicago, where Cubs fans have made it a way of life). We wake up to news stories about domestic disputes gone wrong. Really wrong. We go to workplaces where everyone is battling for the boss’s favor and the next promotion, or we stay at home where the battle for the Legos is just as fierce. Nightly, we watch the talking heads on the cable news networks, trying to win the battle of ideas, although sometimes they seem quite willing to settle for winning the battle of decibels. We fight to have the best stuff, in the best name brands, and when we finally look at each other at the end of the day, we fight, because we are trained to do nothing else. And, usually, we have been trained well. In the worst of cases, we grew up fighting for our very survival, both physically and emotionally. But even in the best of situations, we found ourselves trying to win the competition for our parents’ attention and approval, for our peers’ acceptance, and for the validating stamp of a world with one message: win. And, so, cultivating a marriage in which losing is the mutual norm becomes a radically counter-cultural act. To sit in the marital therapy room is to foment a rebellion.

What do the rebellious marriages look like? Lately, when my blood is bubbling, when I just know I’ve been misunderstood and neglected, and I’m ready to do just about anything to convince and win what I deserve, I try to remember a phone call we recently received from my son’s second grade teacher. She called us one day after school to tell us there had been an incident in gym class. After a fierce athletic competition, in which the prize was the privilege to leave the gym first, my son’s team had lost. The losers were standing by, grumbling and complaining about second-grade-versions of injustice, as the victors filed past. And that’s when my son started to clap. He clapped for the winners as they passed, with a big dopey grin on his face and a smile stretched from one ear of his heart to the other. His startled gym teacher quickly exhorted the rest of his team to follow suit. So, a bunch of second grade losers staged a rebellion, giving a rousing ovation for their victorious peers, and in doing so, embraced the fullness of what it can mean to be a loser. When I’m seething, I try to remember the heart of a boy, a heart that can lose graciously and reach out in affection to the victors.

In marriage, losing is letting go of the need to fix everything for your partner, listening to their darkest parts with a heart ache rather than a solution. It’s being even more present in the painful moments than in the good times. It’s finding ways to be humble and open, even when everything in you says that you’re right and they are wrong. It’s doing what is right and good for your spouse, even when big things need to be sacrificed, like a job, or a relationship, or an ego. It is forgiveness, quickly and voluntarily. It is eliminating anything from your life, even the things you love, if they are keeping you from attending, caring, and serving. It is seeking peace by accepting the healthy but crazy-making things about your partner because, you remember, those were the things you fell in love with in the first place. It is knowing that your spouse will never fully understand you, will never truly love you unconditionally—because they are a broken creature, too—and loving them to the end anyway.

Maybe marriage, when it’s lived by two losers in a household culture of mutual surrender, is just the training we need to walk through this world—a world that wants to chew you up and spit you out—without the constant fear of getting the short end of the stick. Maybe we need to be formed in such a way that winning loses its glamour, that we can sacrifice the competition in favor of people. Maybe what we need, really, is to become a bunch of losers in a world that is being a torn apart by the competition to win. If we did that, maybe we’d be able to sleep a little easier at night, look our loved ones in the eyes, forgive and forget, and clap for the people around us.

I think that in a marriage of losers, a synergy happens and all of life can explode into a kind of rebellion that is brighter than the sun. The really good rebellions, the ones that last and make the world a better place, they are like that, aren’t they? They heal, they restore. They are big, and they shine like the sun. And, like the sun, their gravitational pull is almost irresistible.

New Year's Resolutions

I have a hard time with the idea of New Year's Resolutions. I feel like they are an excuse for people to make goals that wouldn't have made them otherwise. I guess it's a good thing though... shows that people are trying? What I don't understand is why people don't just make their big goals as the ideas come to them. Why wait for some day on a calendar in the middle of the winter? If you want to lose weight, lose weight now. If you want to read that book, read it now. We could all be progressing at a much faster rate in life if we would just continually set big goals and not wait for once a year. None-the-less, I have decided not to boycott the social norm of goal making this year. However, all goals that I have decided to set go above and beyond the typical, "get good grades", "exercise more"... nonsense that most people use as a goal setting cop-out. I have even broken my large goals up into four different categories (adopted from the categories of connection I feel are important in relationships). Mind, body, heart, and soul.

MIND
This category would include anything that I feel is associated with intelligence, stimulating the mind, or educational growth. Therefore my goal in this area is to read four books of classical literature. This would include works from authors like Dickens, Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Steinbeck, etc.

BODY
Body includes all physical goals. This year my goals are to participate in five triathlons and set a new PR for my 5K time.

HEART
The heart category would be for things that I enjoy. One must not simply set practical goals, fun goals are just as important if succeeding is the mission. My goal for this area could probably fall under the "body" category, however it is something that I enjoy. I want to try an new healthy recipe every month and do better at logging my eating on my fitness tracker.

SOUL
Soul would be the equivalent of a spiritual category. For this one I would like to do more than just focus on reading my scriptures daily, although this is most likely what everyone else would do for their spiritual goal. I would actually like to take it in a different direction. I want to read books that deal with spirituality and not simply religion. For example, I want to read a book by the Dalai Lama and his view of life. I want to read "Mere Christianity" by CS Lewis. Vicktor Frankl's book "Man's Search for Meaning" is also on my list.


So.... I'm hoping that the act of publicity announcing my resolutions for the year will be more of a motivating factor to work harder at them since now I have other people that are aware of what I'm trying for than just myself. What are some of your resolutions for the 2012 year?

Facebook is...

...a public display of how little attention American's pay in English class. Let's think about the average American for just a second. We have spoken American-English since our first words at a few months of age. Then, at the age of approximately 5, we begin school, where we study the English language each year for the next 12 years. Not only do we speak it, we write it, we understand it, and we communicate with it, correct? How come, after at least TWELVE YEARS of study, and 20+ years of speaking, do people still struggle with correct grammar?? And why do we display this lack of intelligence across the internet?? It's no wonder we get the "dumb American" stereotype! Can we be just a little bit better? Try just a little bit harder?

It is embarrassing to read people's Facebook statuses, knowing that they were allowed to graduate high school although unable to correctly diagram a sentence before vocalizing it. I'm not saying that I am an English expert by any means, I'm just asking why people don't know how to maintain the correct tense, use the correct conjunctions, and form grammatically correct sentences for something as simple as a Facebook status. Am I being orgulous? Absolutely. I just think we need to step it up act more educated.

Beauty

"I find the whole concept of being ‘sexy’ embarrassing and confusing. If I do an interview with photographs people desperately want to change me - dye my hair blonder, pluck my eyebrows, give me a fringe. Then there’s the choice of clothes. I know everyone wants a picture of me in a mini-skirt. But that’s not me. I feel uncomfortable. I’d never go out in a mini-skirt. It’s nothing to do with protecting the Hermione image. I wouldn’t do that. Personally, I don’t actually think it’s even that sexy. What’s sexy about saying, ‘I’m here with my boobs out and a short skirt, have a look at everything I’ve got?’ My idea of sexy is that less is more. The less you reveal the more people can wonder." - Emma Watson

This is absolutely beautiful. Why can't there be more girls in this world that are as comfortable with themselves as Emma? And why can't more men in this world support that? I admire Miss Emma Watson. She's the kind of example both girls and boys need nowadays...

MANthority

This is what Jeremy tells me I need to successfully run a home - some Manthority. It cracks me up. Every time he says it, "manthority" sure has some man attitude behind it. Jeremy and my mom have been my saving graces this weekend. Stopping by to check on me. Giving me hugs. Bringing me a candy bar just because. Offering to come over and be the manthority that I need. Making me laugh. I sure love them.

I've been babysitting the Wood children all weekend while their parents are in San Francisco. I've been told by some mom's in the ward that these kids are probably the hardest. My own mom says to not be so hard on myself... but I just want to be a good mom figure. Yet being a mom, even after just a few days, is HARD WORK - mostly emotionally. It's not easy transitioning into the one in charge, the one responsible, and the one that's suppose to know and fix everything. I watched the same kids last year for a week and by Wednesday I was sitting on the floor crying and calling my own mother. I didn't even make it two days this time. I sat on the bench in sacrament and just cried. I couldn't stop. My mom even sat by me and the kids to help but I was overwhelmed. My mom's advice, "laugh about it". I've always thought I was a pretty positive person but I didn't even know how to find anything worth laughing about. I wasn't getting anything right.

Today has been better. A few things have definitely brought a little giggle. I've had a smile all day. Although I didn't have a man to add the manthority, I maned up and implemented some myself. TV privileges? Gone. No negotiating. Ignoring Kyra? Not any more. Did they hear about how I felt about them disrespecting their swimming teacher? Oh they sure did. Gently but very stern. I even let Britton know that his behavior was unacceptable for a boy about to receive the Priesthood. I'm still trying to decide if that was too harsh or not... but at the same time, if he's old enough to have the Priesthood he's old enough to understand the responsibility, right?

I absolutely don't believe it yelling at children unless absolutely necessary but I've learned that they need a little authoritative parenting to know who's in charge and who to respect. I've got that 'stern mom look' down pat. I've had a quote by Machiavelli running through my head all day - "Is it better to be feared or loved?" Now my question is, how do you teach kids that respect equals love?

Maybe I'm getting there. I guess I shouldn't expect to know how to parent after a few days, or ever for that matter. Maybe the fact that Marissa was comfortable enough to snuggle up in my arms and cry, or that Britton accidentally said "okay I love you" before running out to see friends means they do like me and respect me. I've asked my mom so many question this weekend and she just smiled and told me that even now she doesn't have all the answers.

**But one of the best part about today so far? Figuring out how to install a printer onto my computer and successfully printing something (all by myself I might add). I don't care if this is suppose to be an easy task, it was a very proud moment for me :)

Abide with Me

Abide with me! fast falls the eventide; the darkness deepens.

Lord, with me abide!

When other helpers fail and comfort flee, help of the helpless,

oh, abide with me!

Swift to its close ebbs out life's little day,

Earth's joys grow dim; it's glories pass away.

Change and decay in all around I see;

O thou who changest not, abide with me!

I need thy presence ev'ry passing hour.

What but thy grace can foil the tempter's pow'r?

Who, like thyself, my guide and stay can be?

Thru cloud and sunshine, Lord, abide with me!

We sang this hymn in church today and for some reason it really touched me. It seemed to have the same words and emotions as my prayers lately. After having finished Believing Christ I've had an overwhelming desire to have Christ in my life as much as possible. Every time I see the picture of Him in my room I pause and stare at it for a moment, as if waiting for him to tell me something. Often times I stand there and ask Him what he wants me to do; with just about everything. I want nothing more than His guidance in every decision I have to make. I get so scared thinking about the future but I know that my future is as bright as my faith. I know that as long as I ask the Lord to abide with me, he'll be there every step of the way .

Molecular Thoughts

There is a book entitled The Messages of Water written by Japanese author Masaru Emoto. In this book, Emoto discuss studies he has conducted that show the effect that words, ideas, and music have on the aesthetic appeal of water molecules. His experiments consisted of exposing water molecules to specific words, music, or ideas, allowing the molecules to freeze, and then examining the molecular structure with microscopic photography. Emoto experimented with words such as love, gratitude, evil, and hate. He also tested different music such as classical versus rock. For Example:

The picture on the left was taken after the water molecules had been exposed to heavy metal music.

The picture on the right, however, was taken after water molecules had been exposed to folk music.

Why is it that the aesthetic appeal of the second pictures is so much more pristine and beautiful? Why is it that the fragile structure of water can be disturbed by certain words and feelings? It's interesting to note that the human body is approximately 70% water... I wonder what effect our thoughts have on our bodies? In our church we have been counseled by the prophets to have clean thoughts, listen to wholesome music and watch uplifting movies. It seems as though scientific evidence comes a little late, but eventually backs up exactly what we believe. Maybe we're on to something...

Water isn't the only element this experiment has been tested on. Certain plants have been seen to exhibit certain positive and negative characteristics when exposed to specific words or thoughts. Energetic interchanges seem to exist between all forms of life; but does this come as much of a surprise when we know who our maker is? Of course there is an energy in all things.

In the book The Secret it discusses these same principles. If you haven't read it, do so, and keep in mind the similarities between the ideas discussed in it and our religious beliefs. They are very similar, however, it discusses the energy in the world and our relationship with it. It talks about the power of affirmation and things like "Can someone really heal them self of something as terrible cancer simply by thinking they can?" I believe that's possible...

Our words and thoughts have tremendous power; do we fully understand that power though?

Metaphors for Scriptures

Did you know that the scriptures testify of themselves? All throughout the scriptures prophets speak of their importance. For example: 1 Nephi talks about the iron rod as being scripture - "the iron rod is the word of God, 'twill safely guide us through" (hymn 274). Therefore the iron rod is a metaphor that directly means 'scripture'. There are 7 incredible metaphors for the scriptures that directly show the importance of scriptures study. 

1. The Liahona = scripture (1 Nephi 16:10, 26-29) If you recall, the Liahona was a type of compass that Lehi's family used to guide them through the wilderness to the promise land. Had Lehi's family been disobedient, the Liahona would not have worked and they would have wandered in the wilderness with no progression and eventually would have led to death. If the Liahona is a metaphor for the scriptures and the promise land is eternal life, we can conclude that the scriptures guide us to eternal life. Without them we will not progress to the celestial kingdom and ultimately die spiritually.

2. The Iron Rod = scripture (1 Nephi 8:19-20, 23-24) In Nephi's dream, he saw the iron rod leading to the tree of life. He also saw mists of darkness surrounding the rod, and a filthy river following along a strait and narrow path. If the iron rod represents the word of God, these versus in 1 Nephi tell us that the scriptures keep us from temptation and darkness, help us stay on the path, and ultimately lead to the tree of life - Jesus Christ. Without the rod/scriptures there is no way for us to stay on such a narrow path that leads to Christ. You cannot leave the rod/scriptures without also leaving the path. If we do not have the rod, we will wander in darkness, drown in the river, or get swept up in the worldly mansion - ultimately leading to spiritual death.

3. Manna = scripture (Exodus 16) After the Israelites fled Egypt, they wandered through the wilderness and eventually began to murmur for bread. The Lord answered their prayers by having manna rain down from heaven. Just like any food, manna provided the Israelites with strength and nourishment. Therefore if manna is a metaphor for scriptures, we know that the scriptures give us spiritual strength and nourishment. Without food in the literal sense we will die, so without spiritual food our spirit will also die.

4. Lamp = scripture (Psalms 119: 105) "The word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path". In a very simple way, this verse tells us the obvious, we need a light to show us where to go. Therefore if a lamp is a metaphor for the scriptures we know that the scriptures illuminate our path and show us where to go. If we were wandering in darkness without a lamp we would eventually get lost, have nowhere to go, and die. So, without a lamp/scriptures we will in time, die spiritually.

5. Water = scripture (John 4:14) A Samaritan woman came to a well where Christ was resting having traveled from Judea. He asked her to give him a drink and she was surprised that a Jew would speak to someone of her social status. After questioning him, he told her "whosoever drinketh of the water that I shall give him shall never thirst". Immediately she asked to partake of this water and then went back to the city to tell others. Water quenches thirst. Therefore if the water in this parable represents the scriptures, we know that the scriptures quench our thirst for knowledge. Without water we will die, therefore without spiritual water, we will die spiritually.

6. Sword = scripture (Ephesians 6: 11-18; D&C 27:18; Helaman 3:29; Jacob 2:8) Quite often the scriptures tell us to "put on the armour of God." D&C explains what each piece of armor represents.
helmet of salvation
breastplate of righteousness
loins girt about with truth
feet shod with the gospel of peace
shield of faith
sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God.
Of all the armor listed, the only offensive piece is the sword. Everything else helps protect us from the enemy but the only element that helps us fight and defend the truth is the sword. If the sword is the scriptures, then the scriptures help us fight against the powers of the devil. Also, we know that a sword can heal. If you take this in the literal sense, a sword or knife, is what has enabled modern medicine to heal millions. In Jacob it states that the word (scriptures) healeth the wounded soul. Without the ability to fight the enemy or heal, we will die both physically and spiritually.

7. Seed = scripture (Alma 32:28, 37-38, 41-42) "Faith is like a little seed, if planted it will grow" (children's primary song book). We are told if we plant the seed of the gospel in our hearts and nourish it, it will grow. Well what will it grow into? A tree that will bring forth good fruit. Fruit that is most precious and sweet, white above all that is white, and pure above all that is pure - does this sound familiar? The Tree of Life, even Jesus Christ? If we 'plant' the scriptures in our hearts Christ will grow and dwell within us. Of all of the reasons that scripture study is important, I can't think of a more powerful one that having Christ dwell within us. In a world swept up by the cunning and evilness of the devil, what better way to withstand him than to have our Savior with us at all times?

The new testament is not just an account of Christ life and teachings, the Book of Mormon is not just the keystone that holds our religion together and sets us apart from other Christian faiths, and scripture study is not just something we are encouraged to do because the prophet said to. The scriptures guide us to eternal life, lead us to Christ, give us strength, illuminate our path, quench or thirst for knowledge, allow us to fight the devil and defend the truth, and allow Christ to dwell within us...

Dream - Coming Back

This week I’ve had the most incredible experience, mostly last night, and I want to share it with you. I know it will be difficult to get my emotions across through a letter to you, thousands of miles away, but I just hope that you can feel my spirit and maybe it will speak to yours. I hope that you will at least be able to make sense of all these feelings even though I’m still trying to organize them all. You are the one person I feel like I can and should share them with. Tanner, I think I’m coming back… I went away for a little bit, let go of all that I hold dear, but I think I have finally realized what I had been doing wrong and I hope I know how to fix it. Let me try to explain the best I can… I lay in bed last night after spending some time on my knees with the Lord, I opened up my scriptures and for the second night in a row, just like you said, I found the answer I had been praying for. Tears filled my eyes and I prayed even more. Then hundreds of thoughts began to race through my head. I knew I needed to write them down, but as I looked at the clock and realized it was almost midnight, I told myself I would write them down later; I desperately needed sleep. I woke up this morning with even more thoughts running through my head, I rushed off to class, barely paid attention, and now I’m in the computer lab, trying to sort through these thoughts and emotion that are overwhelming my entire mind. I just hope I can get all my thoughts out before my next class starts… I apologize if reading this seems like I’m telling a story that I’ve related to gospel principles, it’s the best way I can think to express my feelings. I guess it is a story of the last few months of my life. I just hope you can try to understand and still accept me after I leave myself vulnerable to your thoughts. I was walking along my path in life, just as I always had. There was a little bit of fog covering the path, however, the rod that I was holding illuminated the way just enough that I knew just where to go. I continued walking. Then instead of keeping my eyes straight ahead, I began to look around, I wanted to see what was going on around me. Why? I had never wanted to do this before… But I indulged in a little curiosity. I turned to my left, and in the distance I saw a form. The fog made it difficult to see what it was, but I was intrigued. I loosened my grip just enough that I could turn a little further, look a little harder, and there it was. A building. The lights were on and I could see people inside. Something told me, “You don’t care what they’re doing, don’t worry about it – keep going.” But something else told me, “Look a little harder. Don’t you just want to watch? You don’t have to let go, just watch.” So that’s what I did. I took one step closer, stopped walking, and just sat and watched, with my hand gently placed on the rod. If I look back over the past few months I don’t know exactly when this happened. It wasn’t a point in time that I just turned and disregarded my path, it was a slow relaxation of my standards, and probably was reinforced by the Lake Powell trip with nonmembers questioning my testimony and the church. I defended everything that I stood for, but after the ‘debate’ thoughts of doubt and question filled my mind. Why did I let what they were saying get to me? Why did I ignore the spirit that entire trip with little things like what to wear, what to say, and how to act? These questions still remain unanswered. (It’s interesting to note that this is where you mentioned you noticed a change in my tone in my letters…) I continued to watch the building and the people inside. There was nothing of importance going on, but for some reason, I kept watching. At times I would turn and see people passing me along the path, but I was too scared to ask for help, I figured I could just come back on my own. However, feelings of emptiness grew as I continued to watch. I wondered why I felt so alone. I wondered why I began to feel unworthy to be one of God’s children. An image keeps popping into my mind. One where I see myself standing in a field of dead grass with my eyes closed. The sky is gloomy and the colors are all muted. As I keep watching this image, I see a tornado begin to spin around me, which upon close examination is a tornado of words; words that I shouldn’t believe – all from the advisary trying to bring me down. But as the tornado thickens and darkens, I can’t get out. The longer I stand there the less my own light fades and my skin turns a dingy gray color… I turn my head from the great building full of people, and look back towards my right hand, still placed gently on the rod. I see another hand, reached out towards me. I look up and see my bishop standing there, hand outstretched, with Christ at his side. Both have this look in their eyes of longing and love. I can feel that they want me to come with them and I am overcome by a feeling to join them. I release my hand from the rod and begin to reach towards that outstretched hand. Then I hear a whisper in my ear, filled with those same words that I saw in the tornado, “You’re not worthy of them. You don’t need them.” I retract my hand and place it back on the rod. The look of sadness in the eyes of my bishop and my Savior tear my soul in two. Tears begin to stream down my face for I know not what to do. I feel them both fade away and I am left alone. Feelings of guilt and inadequacy overwhelm my soul and I fall down on my knees and begin to sob. After a time I open my eyes to see a pile of letters on the ground next to my leg. I open each and begin to read. They are filled with love and encouragement from my best friend. He is off fighting a different battle, looking for our lost brothers and sisters to bring them back to the path. In each letter he bares testimony of the Savior, sometimes by simply encouraging me to read my scriptures. He tells me to pray with a question in mind and then search my scriptures and I will always find the answer. He tells me to trust the Lord. He bears his testimony of the Plan of Salvation. I’ve heard these things before. I reach into my back pocket and pull out a tattered Book of Mormon and begin to read. Just as my friend said, and just as I knew they would, the answers seemed to jump off each page. Each night I prayed and each night I received an answer. I placed my hand on the rod and stood up - filled with new conviction. I looked up and saw my bishop still standing there, with arms outstretched. A tread of fear began to weave its way into my heart, but I quickly grabbed his hand. He pulled me into a hug and said, “Don’t be scared, Kyra. I’m right here. Let me help you. I know you want to do this on your own but let me help you. The Savior has been here the whole time, let me help you see him.” This last paragraph basically sums up this last week. That seems like such a short time for things to change, but it began with a meeting with my bishop last Sunday. It was just a simple meeting to get to know each other, since my birthday was coming up. The first thing the bishop commented on was how happy I was; and it was true. I am happy, and that’s why I thought I was doing okay. The Lord fills us with joy, right? Why would he let us experience joy if we weren’t doing what we were supposed to be? I knew I was struggling spiritually, but when the bishop asked I said I was doing good (I intentionally didn’t say great, just good). We talked for a second about what makes people glow and came up with two things- worthiness and the Spirit. I wanted to ask him if I glow, because I honestly don’t know… I’ve had people tell me recently that I do, but I certainly don’t feel that way. So why can others see it and I can’t? At the end of the meeting I asked the bishop to give me a blessing. I told him I just needed strength and guidance. He paused, and for a moment I wasn’t sure how much of my true feelings he already knew. He gave me the blessing and I know I could feel my Savior reaching out his hand to me. I didn’t want the blessing to end, I hadn’t felt that close to my Savior in a very long time, but alas, it ended. I stood up and the bishop gave me a hug and asked if there was anything else he could do for me. This is the part where I retracted my hand. I smiled politely, thanked him, but said I was good. Why didn’t I reach out to him and tell him that I needed him? Why didn’t I tell him that I don’t know how to see the Savior in my life? I believe that is why this week was that way that it was. It has brought me so much more understanding of the experience of Alma the Younger in chapter 36. Now I don’t know all that he went through, but this last week I can say that my mind and Spirit have been in an unending wrestling match. I can barely focus on my school work, I can’t fall asleep… the only thing I can think about is asking the bishop to help me. I’ve been trying to push that idea out of my mind all week, it scares me to death. In my mind talking to the bishop was always for repentance of something big. In Institute on Wednesday night the lesson was all about repentance. The minute the teacher announced the lesson topic, tears filled my eyes as I knew it was specifically for me. Things that I should have understood a long time ago finally came full circle as I realized how imperfect I am and how much help I need. It doesn’t matter how hard I try, I’m ALWAYS going to need to repent. I knew this but I don’t think I completely understood it. The bishop isn’t there just to confess sins to, he’s there to help me repent of anything and everything and find the Savior again. This last part being the key. I thought I could find the Savior on my own. I didn’t understand why I needed someone else to help me find something that is so personal. The truth is, I can’t do this on my own. I can’t express how grateful I am for the Atonement, that my older brother would be so willing to suffer so much just to come find me and reach his hand out to me and say, “Kyra, I’m waiting for YOU. I’m here for YOU. Just LET me help you.” All I have to do is let him in. I don’t know why I’ve struggled to do that. I read in my scriptures either that night or the night before one of the scriptures that had an answer for me. 3 Nephi 18:32 – Christ is talking to his disciples and just explained the sacrament to them. He explains the organization of the church and then talks about the repentance of his people. At the end of verse 32 he says, “I shall heal them; and ye shall be the means of bringing salvation unto them.” This helped me understand why I need to not be afraid, but let my bishop help me. I’ve been struggling with understanding the importance of a bishop, but that one sentence explains everything. Thursday on my way home from work I called the executive secretary and set up an appointment to meet with the bishop this coming Tuesday. I was surprised at the amount of comfort that came just from making the appointment. Fear is still trying to weave its way into my mind, but I keep reminding myself that I have nothing to be afraid of. I don’t know why that’s the one emotion that won’t give up, but I’m determined to win this battle. Later Thursday night I received another answer through my scriptures. I almost didn’t grab my scriptures that night. I had periodically been reading them throughout the day and when I climbed into bed late that night I thought, “I’m good. I’ve already read a few times today.” But this very very faint thought snuck into my mind and said, “that’s okay. Go grab your i-touch anyways. A few verses will only take a few minutes.” I thought for just a second, and then climbed out of bed. 3 Nephi 22: 7-14 “for a small moment have I forsaken thee, but with great mercies will I gather thee. In a little wrath I hid my face from thee for a moment, but with everlasting kindness will I have mercy on thee, saith the Lord they Redeemer…..for the mountains shall depart and the hills be removed, but my kindness shall not depart from thee…In righteousness shalt though be established; thou shalt be far from oppression for thou shalt not fear, and from terror for it shall not come near thee.” I don’t know if I’ve ever felt the Lord speaking so directly to me. Almost every verse of that little 17 verse chapter was meant just for me, I know it. Tears filled my eyes as I lay in bed after reading that. And that’s when all those thoughts, and the story of my life with the iron rod, began to run through my head. I have yet to experience the last part of my ‘dream/thought’ with me finally taking the hand of the bishop, but I’ve already taken the step. It’s Friday night right now, and I can almost feel something foreshadowing a weekend of constant battle with the advisary. I know he will try everything he can to keep me from seeing the bishop Tuesday night. That’s because he knows how strong I can be with the Lord by my side. But I can’t give in. I won’t give in. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 01-23-11 So… I typed up all those feelings Friday morning as they were fresh on my mind, but now that Sunday has rolled around and I’ve had time to think and calm my thoughts down I’ve been debating as to whether or not I should leave it in this letter. I was reading over it however, and I think I had better clarify some things. That entire experience, and the inspiration I received it quite dramatic. I realize though, that it needed to be that way for me to realize where I’m at and where I want to be. Tanner, you should know that I have never let go of the iron rod and strayed from my path. I guess in a way, we all kind of loosen our grip at times, but I know this church is true and I know everything about it is what I want in my life and how I want to live my life. I may forget that the Savior is always by my side, but that’s why I’ve decided to turn to my bishop. I feel like he’s the one that can help me see the Savior and learn to rely on him more. I tell you that because I don’t want you to be worried that I have completely lost my way – I haven’t. But it certainly seems like that after I share that story about my life. I’m doing quite well, dear, and I thank you for helping me stay strong. I also want to thank you for your incredible testimony in your last letter. That means so much to me dear. I love hearing you testify of the Savior and what he has done for you. You are incredibly strong and are such an example of the faith.

Turducken Day

Why do we celebrate Thanksgiving? What is the reason for getting together with family and close friends to eat a big meal together - a meal in which we eat to much, take a break, and then eat more? It seems as though many people have forgotten that Thanksgiving has nothing to do with eating, and everything to do with gratitude.

"We have forgotten God. We have forgotten the gracious hand which preserved us in peace and multiplied and enriched and strengthened us, and we have vainly imagined, by the deceitfulness of our hearts, that all these blessings were produced by some superior wisdom and virtue of our own… It has seemed to me fit and proper that God should be solemnly, reverently and gratefully acknowledged, as with one heart and one voice, by the whole American people…"

- President Abraham Lincoln

I fear that with this track of destruction that the world has been running, we are slowly forgetting the real meaning of things. Christmas has become completely commercialized. Thanksgiving is all about the food. And life has become a struggle of fast pace and immediate satisfaction. 

Sometimes I feel I'm getting swept up in school, work, and the social life associated with college life - and I know I'm not the only one. That's why I decided to make a gratitude tree for our apartment. I challenged each of us, as roommates, to make a leaf and write one thing that we were grateful for each day. And today I can say that I'm grateful for the inspiration to make the gratitude tree. It gave me the opportunity to look back at each day, find one thing that stood out to me, and thank my Heavenly Father for his love and blessings. It's incredible how much the Lord gives us that goes unnoticed. 

Isn't it interesting that often we don't realize how grateful we are for something until it's not there? A working car becomes second nature to us - until we get a flat tire or it doesn't start. Our health is just part of our every day - until we get sick. Mom is just mom - until I realize how much I need and want her when she's not there, how much she really loves me when she stays up late to help me after I've had a meltdown, how much joy she brings into the family just by being her. Dad is just dad - until I notice that he greets me with a "hey beautiful" when I come home from school, he talks and laughs with me about the troubles I'm going through, he spends his hard earned money to make sure I'm okay and have the things I need to get through life. Jeremy is just a little brother - until I remember how much I love the great big hug he give me when I come home or am not feeling well, that he's willing to take me shopping to make me fashionable, that he stays up late to talk and giggle with me about the funny things in life. BJ is just an older brother - until I realized how willing he is to help me with a big project, how often he buys me little gifts just to let me know he cares. 

We all need to try a little harder to realize, notice, and remember all that the Lord has giving us - all the love He has for each of us. Maybe then life will be a little easier. Maybe then we will be grateful for the little joys in life. 

Take a Moment...

Called to Serve?

Tanner got ordained an Elder today and I'm SO excited for him. He is the most amazing example to me and I've learned so much from him. I know that when he goes on his mission he will touch so many lives and have an incredible experience, and I hope that I will be able to have the same opportunity...I've been attending missionary prep classes every Sunday night for almost a year. I started going not because I was determined to go on a mission, but because I love the opportunity to learn more, especially about the gospel. And when I found out that Bother Lindon McKay was teaching it, I was even more exciting. Every time I go, I find I have more conviction to change who I am and become a better person; to work harder at reading my scriptures, to try and remember to say my prayers, to thank the Lord more often....

I have learned SO much from Brother McKay as he picks apart the New Testament, in the 15 mintues of class he calls "Footsteps in the Life of Christ." I've read the New Testament before, but I've never learned and understood quite as much as I do when he teaches. It has been the most amazing experience to watch the young men in that class go from being too timid to offer a pray, to sitting across from Brother McKay, pretending to convert him through their testimonies and knowlege of the scriptures.

Over the past few months I have often contemplated going on a mission, but I've never really known if it's something I should do. My patriarchical blessing says that I will have the opportunity of going on a mission with my husband someday, but I don't know what that means for me in the next few years...

Then today in sacrament I had an amazing eye-opening experience. Sister Tara Caldwell returned home from her mission and spoke today. As I listened to her, I couldn't help but notice the joy that surrounded her. She seemed SO happy, and I know she loves the gospel. As she spoke about the experiences she had on her mission, I felt an incredible desire to serve a mission myself and I now know that it's something I'm going to aspire to do. I want so badly to have those same experiences; to share what I believe, to watch other people learn and grow, to serve - with all my heart, might, mind, and strength, and to feel the Spirit and gain a stronger testimony myself...

Stuck in a Rut

This week I worked a full 40 hours at the pharmacy! I'm a full time workin' woman :) However, I can honestly say that I don't really enjoy it. It's not too bad of a job, the people are fun, but it's pretty high stress and I'm constantly running around doing things faster than I can think somtimes. I can't imagine having to work full time for the rest of my life. Poor husbands :(

Tanner and I were talking about this exact thing just the other day. How do you not let yourself get stuck in a rut? How do you stay passionate about life (stole that from Crystal ;) thanks) when life gets so routine and monotonous? I wouldn't say that I'm a pessimistic person - I think I enjoy life - but I wish I was more passionate about it - that word just has so much more emotion to it.

As fall gets closer and closer, and with Tanner getting ready to leave on his mission, I can just see my life falling into a routine where I go to work, go to school, eat, study, sleep, go to work, etc etc etc. I don't want it to be like that, but I don't know how to not let it. I don't think I know how to just go with the flow or be spontaneous... Ah! I better figure it out quick or I'm gonna be stuck in the very rut I'm trying to avoid!

Playing House

All of the sudden I've become a mom of three... only for a week that is. Each day that I'm with these kids I realize how clueless I really am about parenting, and yet, is any new parent really an expert? Treyson, age 8, had his first baseball game yesterday, so like a good mom, I wanted to go and support him. I took a seat on the bleachers close to his team, Marissa, age 4, ran off to the playground and Britton, 10, was playing with a friend, so I sat, observing. I watched all these moms there to see their sons play while keeping track of their other little ones, and the coaches (really just dads) kneeling down next to the players giving them advice, when I came to the realization that we're all just wingin' it. Most of the parents there were not much older than me it seemed, and yet in the eyes of a kid, they're all experts at parenting. Yet none of them have training or special knowledge that makes them parents - they just have kids they take care of.

Do you remember being little and subconsciously you knew that Mom knew everything? She always knew how to play games you learned, she knew the right words to say, how to cook everything just right even without a recipe, she could always help you with your homework... You didn't really have to wonder why or how she knews these things - she's a Mom, and mom's just know. Well I guess I still kinda thought that. I've watched my older cousins raise their kids sooo well and I'm in awe as to how. I realize they have their challenges, but I assumed the knowledge of how to raise a child was handed to them when they had kids I guess. As I have friends from high school getting married, one of my first thoughts is "how on earth are they going to raise children? There's no way I'm ready to have a family yet so how are they?"

Today is only the fourth day I've been watching these kids and each day I realize how much I really don't know. I'm just making it up as I go, and I'm sure these kids think I just know, because I'm a 'mom'. All of the sudden my mom is my hero. The older I've gotten, and after having moved out, the more I've realized how much she really does. And yet she never gets a simple 'thank you'. Word that mean so much, and they never hear them...I haven't heard them once all week. I can't even explain how much I admire not only my mom now, but all moms.

I guess this experience of being a temporary mom came at just the right time - right before Mother's Day. I wish I could thank my mom for everything, but I guess there will never be a way to do that...

A National Security Crisis

My mom told me this the other day and I was so...excited (probably not the right word) that I had to go look it up. Apparently Childhood obesity has become a National Security Crisis.

Disclaimer: If you don't already know, I have a very strong opinion about obesity so it may be in your best interest to cease reading this post to not risk the possibility of being offended. However, if you choose to continue, be aware that my comments may be a little harsh.

(source: New York Times) A panel of retired military officers said that, "Weight problems are now the leading medical reason that recruits are rejected and thus jeopardizing the military's ability to fill its ranks." Apparently 9 million American youth (27% of youth 17-25) are too fat to fight. That's over a quarter of the youth in our nation! However, a nutrition bill is in progress that is suppose to improve school lunches. But get this! In 1946 the exact opposite happened. It was a "national security issue" that many recruits to the military had inadequate nutrition - that's when school lunches became a national focus and were changed to get kids healthier! Apparently it's NOT working! Honestly, I don't think changing school lunches will change anything. Look at all the people in this country. It's not just the kids that are fat, its their parents too. So changing school lunches will not change a thing when the kids get their eating habits from home.

Does anyone remember the State of the Union address? Michelle Obama said that her goal (for the year I guess) is to focus on, and find a solution for, the childhood obesity epidemic. So far.... I haven't seen anything come of that....

Whatever happened to the idea of Exercise?? I GUARANTEE that aerobic exercise 30 minutes a day will make you lose weight and be healthier. It's a proven fact! And health experts have been saying that for hundreds of years! (okay, maybe not hundreds, I'm getting carried away)

Okay, so some people have health issues that make it difficult to stay in shape. But give me a break! 9 million youth, at the age that the human species is suppose to be at the PRIME OF THEIR LIVES, are clinically obese?!? (I don't think the writers of Wally were too far off). It makes me sick to look around and see how obese people are. Now, I do realize that I'm blessed. I have a good metabolism and have grown up in a home where I can choose to eat healthier. But I still think that healthy living habits are a choice. Guess what? A bag of maybe 6 apples, is 2 dollars cheaper than a bag of chips. (Found that out while grocery shopping in college). Fills you up more too. Exercise usually causes you to eat healthier too. That's why I do both. It's not that hard - people are just too lazy to get up and do anything and it's easier to be obese.

I guess it all comes down to the fact that I believe our bodies are gifts from a loving Heavenly Father. We should take care of them. And being healthy allows us to do more and feel better. So I apologize for offending anyone... that's just my opinion on the matter.

The Cost of Independence

College just isn't the same when you're living at home...I LOVED living on my own, taking care of myself, and having a "sister/roommate" to talk to and hang out with all the time. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, but I want to have that college experience I'm suppose to have... If I could, I would find somewhere up in Ogden to live but it's sooo expensive :( And that's one of the main reasons I'm going to Weber, to save money. sigh...

Tanner lives on his own... He moved out and lives in Gail and Roxann's basement apartment by himself. His older brother, that comes home from his mission tomorrow, is probably going to live with him. I'm extremely jealous. Yet another problem with me moving to Ogden - I would be even farther away from Tanner :( sigh...

Why does money have to have so much control?