I Got Married. Part III

As I'm sure you could guess, there wouldn't be a Part III to the story if it was all smooth sailing after that. So. Here's what happened:

Even though I said I was ready to commit, what I was actually doing was picking a direction. Because I didn't want to sit in limbo anymore waiting for a sign from above that was never going to come. And I don't know about the rest of you, but sometimes I just make choices and then see how it goes -- see if it forces that sign from above to tell me I was right or wrong. When I thought about picking the Get Married direction, I thought about all the things that could go wrong, and I assumed I was missing some red flags somewhere. When I thought about picking the Break Up direction, my heart would implode inside of me and I would hear a moaning "NOOOOOO" from the depths of my soul. I told myself, "That's not an answer. That's an emotional reaction."

Anyway, I chose yes. But deep down, I expected to get fireworks and doves and roses pouring from the sky telling me my choice was "correct." I didn't need this sign immediately, but I figured it would come eventually. So, we ring-shopped and we told the fams and we got engaged and we bought plane tickets to Paris, and we did all the things. All the while I had this little voice in my head that was like, "Okayyy I'm doing stuff, I'm moving in a direction, so where are my fireworks..?"

We got engaged on July 5.  On August 3, my baby brother got married. Their wedding was beautiful and so fun. I introduced Jordan to so many good people from my childhood and long time family friends. And we were next! Just as it was all ending and we were pulling out the sparklers for the send-off, I was hit with a MASSIVE, crazy-intense, out-of-nowhere wave of pure anxiety about getting married and I just thought, "OHHHH no. I can't do this." I went straight to the bathroom so I could be alone and freaked out to myself and just felt so sick about everything.

I didn't say anything to Jordan about it because I didn't know what to say and I wanted to figure it out. After church the next day, I went to a park with a picnic blanket and my scriptures and journal and pondered on life for a couple hours (I think we're seeing a pattern in my self-care habits here). I still felt the same about breaking up (the NOOOO feeling), but I also knew I could not marry him if I felt so anxious about it! I decided the only thing I could do was have zero contact for a while so I could get out from under his influence and be just me. I called him and asked if he would meet me at that picnic blanket. Of course he said of course.

He sat down on the blanket next to me and I told him about my freak out from the night before and all my thoughts on the matter since, including the fact that I wanted no contact for a week. "What do you think about that?" I asked. He said, "I think you should do whatever you need to do to figure it out for yourself. Whatever you decide, just know that I love you." And then he requested we do it the next week because we had plans that week (including his big-deal family reunion), but I said I could not wait that long. So he said he'd settle for Monday. We spent the rest of the day being normal and having Sunday dinner with my family, and then we said goodbye. He said, "I was starting to get nervous at the park for a second, but I feel fine now. I feel good about it." And then he said he would try really hard not to text me, and I said Please don't. He said Okay.

Monday was the actual worst. Everything was the end of the world. I cried so much. I emotionally ate. I took long walks. I cried some more. It might be easy for you to read this because it obviously worked out, but in that moment, I literally DID NOT KNOW! Sigh. So many tears.

On Tuesday I felt a little better, but still didn't know what to do. After a pseudo therapy session with my mom, brother, and sister-in-law, my mom suggested I get a Priesthood blessing from my dad, and I decided that was a good idea.

That evening, I went to my parents' house for this blessing. I didn't tell him what the deal was and he seriously had zero idea what was going on. But I didn't want his advice! I wanted inspiration from above. In my mind, my main concern was whether or not God approved of Jordan and me getting married -- I wanted to know His will concerning the matter and I wanted the faith to obey. The blessing he offered was really short and this is basically what he said, "The choices placed before you are blessings from God. Do not fear the choices, see them as blessings."

Cue the hallelujah chorus.

My mind was opened. I saw the light. My joy was full. He was right! I had been living in TERROR. I was so afraid of either choice that my entire vision was a black fog. Hearing those words -- do not fear the choices, see them as blessings -- I just can't even tell you what that did for me. I thought to myself, "He's right. I have no reason to be afraid. I can trust that my life will be good and beautiful no matter which path I take. I have been given an opportunity to make a choice and that is a wonderful gift!"

First, I chose to let go of the fear. Next, I chose to think about all the amazing things my life would offer me with each choice. Both paths were good. Both were beautiful. Neither were the terrifying pit of despair I had been making them out to be. I was free to choose and I was so happy about it.

By Wednesday evening I had had a whole day in this new, joy mindset, and I was 99% sure I had made my choice. I didn't want to be too rash about it though because I knew I did not want to go through this freak out again. I wanted to be 100%. That evening, I went to institute and happened to run into an acquaintance who I knew had been previously engaged. I decided to take this opportunity to pry into his personal life and he graciously obliged. This is basically what he said: He was the one who ended it. He broke it off because they had different values, she was kind of mean to his mom, she was drama and argued about little things that didn't matter, and he just realized one day that he would be miserable if he married her. So he broke up. And that was that.

And that right there gave me that last 1% I needed. First of all, I loved that he just got engaged and unengaged willy-nilly -- meaning he didn't agonize for months about what "should" be done. He made a choice. And then he changed his mind and made a different choice. And it was fine. It also opened my eyes to the reasons people would change their minds about marrying someone, and Jordan happened to be 0% of those specific examples. We both wanted to get married in the temple; he is nice to my mom (and to me and to everyone I know and to everyone he knows -- I'm pretty sure he doesn't even know how to be mean; plus, I have literally never heard him say anything bad about anyone ever); he is zero drama, he never argues, and guess what. I would be blissfully joyful if I had to be stuck with him for eternity.

I sat down right then and wrote him a letter. And then I called him and asked if I could come over. OF COURSE he said of course.

Sigh.

You guys. When he opened his front door, I could have just died. I was SO glad to see him and so relieved and just SO DANG HAPPY. I told him every detail of my life during our three days apart and kissed his face and read him my letter and he cried and we were for real getting married. I never felt that crazy anxiety again.

On October 12, 2019, we were sealed together as husband and wife for a beautiful eternity in the Mt. Timpanogos Utah Temple and I seriously could not have loved the day more. And guess what. Allllll the roses and doves and fireworks did pour from Heaven.

Okay, so listen. We've now been married six months tomorrow (happy half birthday to our marriage), which I know is nothing, but it's also a super big deal. And this is what I think about it:

1. I am so madly in love with Jordan it almost kills me on the daily.

2. You know when you come THIS close to falling off a cliff or eating poison or hitting a child on their bicycle, but you don't realize how close you were until after you narrowly dodged the bullet, and once you realize it your heart starts beating like crazy and you feel retroactively terrified for what almost just happened without you even realizing it?? That is how I feel when I think about the fact that I even considered not marrying Jordan. I want to have a panic attack. If I had made the other choice, I'm sure my life would have been fine, and I would have been like, "It's for the best we didn't get married, it wouldn't have worked out super great anyway," and other such nonsense. I would have had absolutely NO IDEA what I was missing out on! The more I know Jordan, the more obsessed I am with him and the more I want to shake my dating self and say, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?? DON'T MESS THIS UP!! BEING MARRIED TO HIM WILL BE THE FUNNEST, BEST, MOST BEAUTIFUL THING YOU'VE EVER DONE!!!!"

2.5. Basically, I expected marriage to be like a 6.5/7 on a scale from 1 to 10.... turns out it's a 20 gagigabajilimillion on that scale.

2.75. Why was I expecting a 6.5/7ish? Here's how I thought about marriage for the first 27.33 years of my life: Marriage is just such a huge deal, and it's so unknown until you do it. And you spend your whole life wondering who you're gonna marry or IF you'll get married, and every time you date someone that you don't marry, you manifest the truth that it never works out. Because it doesn't. Until it does. That's the whole point. Plus, in my mind, marriage was like the gateway into adulthood, which is scary. Plus, we believe that marriage is an eternal covenant/promise between two people plus God, which is a lot of responsibility! I'm binding myself by covenant and promise through the Holy Priesthood of God to another mortal human being!! SUCH COMMITMENT!! Plus, unhappy marriages are everywhere. Divorce is everywhere. You hear all the time that "marriage is hard." Plus there are all those people you know and hear about who get married and very quickly come to realize that the person they married is not the person they thought they were. And yikes. PLUS this thought process: Is this God's will?? Is this who I'm "supposed to" marry? Except I don't even believe in that! Except now that it's happening, apparently I do? But I'm confused!

2.75 b. Plus I for sure do not believe in Instagram marriages. Or Instagram anythings. Whenever I see couples or marriages or families looking perfect on social media, I take it with a grain of salt. Because I know it's not real life. It's Instagram life! And we can't see what someone's actual life is like beyond that perfect, cutecicle picture.

2.75 c. So basically I didn't believe all the lovey dovey stuff you see and hear about marriage, and I only believed all the horror stories I heard about marriage.

3. As you can see, it was a true miracle I did get married.  And then guess what. I loved it. For the first few weeks, I was cautious. I was seriously like, "Any second now he's going to suddenly hate me." Even two months in I was like, "This is so so so so great! I love everything about this! Is this what marriage is like?? When is it going to turn horrible?" Why do I honestly feel like those Instagram people act like they are feeling? IS THIS REAL LIFE???

I get that "honeymoon phase" is a thing, and not only do I fully accept that I'm in it, but I plan to take full advantage of it. I truly just wish that everyone could be married to Jordan Bender. I would obviously be extremely jealous and hate everyone, but also so happy for them that THEY GET TO BE MARRIED TO JORDAN BENDER. Also, that is what I call him: Jordan Bender.

4. Moral of the story: Yes, marriage is a big deal. No, you don't have to be deathly afraid of it. Yes, you can decide whether or not you want to marry someone and you'll be just fine. No, they don't have to turn out to be a crazy psychopath. Yes, you have no idea what you're getting into, but yes, it can turn out for the way way way super better than you thought. If you’re considering trying it out, I’d say go for it. Definitely the best decision I’ve made, possibly ever.

P.S. Let's all feel bad for Jordan that he had normal person expectations for marriage, so he's not going out of his mind in pure unexpected bliss like I am. Expect a 9 get a 9. Expect a 6.5 get a 20 gagigabajilimillion. Do it like I did. Months of agonizing anxiety well worth it.

The end.

P.P.S. If you don't know Jordan, let me tell you just a couple reasons you should consider being as obsessed with him as I am:

- He is the best listener.
- He is hilarious.
- He has perfectly shaped lips.
- He is never in a bad mood.
- He thinks before he speaks.
- He is a great driver.

Also, I'm pretty sure my own family likes him better than they like me. And I don't even blame them.

Okay bye.

I Got Married. Part II.

Here's a secret: I actually ended that last post where I did because I HAVE NO IDEA HOW TO EVEN REMOTELY CONCEIVABLY REALISTICALLY AUTHENTICALLY EXPLAIN THE MADNESS THAT HAPPENED INSIDE OF ME OVER THE NEXT TEN MONTHS.

But I want to share it for a couple reasons:
1. The whole process of dating, engaging, and marrying was absolutely nothing like I thought it would be, and I learned a TON. And I want to remember that.
1.5. Maybe it will shed some light on the situation for someone else who is or will also be seeing that dating, engaging, and/or marrying are nothing like they thought it would be. And we can relate! And be friends.
2. I believe in marriage. So here's the story of the beginning of one.

The first memory I have of Jordan after that game night activity in January was September 30, 2018. I knew that his birthday was that weekend, so I said something along the lines of, "I saw it was your birthday yesterday!! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! How old are you?? What did you do? Did you do something fun to celebrate?!?! How was it?! Did you love it??????" You know. All enthusiastic because I love birthdays and celebrating the fact that people are alive.  And he said something like, "It was good. I didn't really do anything to celebrate. We'll probably have cake with my family tonight. I don't really care about my birthday..."  All unenthusiastic because he likes to be chill about everything and not make a big deal about big-deal things like the fact that he was BORN once upon a time.

The first real conversation I remember having with him came one Sunday when I forgot to ask my usual question of, "Did you do anything fun this week?" (I probably forgot because he always said no) (and it would be rude to keep asking after a few months of no because then he might recognize how boring his life is, right?) (so I forgot to ask one Sunday, and then he said this to me): "I actually did something this week!" And then he told me about how he went to lunch at chuck-a-rama with his grandparents and sister. Which clued me in to the fact that he has a family (surprise!). And thus we started talking about real-life stuff.

Fast forward to February 23, 2019. We had been on several dates, and that day he invited me over to his house for dinner. This is what I said about it in my journal the next day: "Last night I was at his house and I met his parents and little sister and had dinner with them. Sigh... I don't really want to go into all the details right now because I've basically been OVERTHINKING all of this all month long now, but I will tell you this: He is so nice and thoughtful, and he listens with intention. And he's funny. And wholesome and good. And respectful. I like him."

If I could describe my experience dating Jordan in one word, it would be: dramaticemotionalrollercoaster. Where did all the drama come from? Me. Where did all the emotional roller coastering come from? Me.

The Monday after our first date, I went into work and told my mom all the pros (like the fact that we got Thai food -- for real, that automatically put him a step ahead), but then I was like, "Buuuut, meh, I don't know, I mean, he was nice, but it's probably not gonna go anywhere and I don't know, and I didn't tell him I'd go on another date, so maybe I just won't." And she said, "Oh please. Just go on another date." So I said, "Fine."

Date after date, it was the same, "He's so nice and so fun and so cool! But, meh, I don't know, it's probably not gonna go anywhere, might as well end it now before we get too far in and make things more difficult..."

Then I went to his house for said dinner, and his mom already knew everything about me. "So, you work for your parents selling some sort of energy system thing?" "So, you're studying nutrition right now?" "So, you went on a mission to Texas?" "So, you're 26 and your favorite color is orange and your favorite food is sandwiches and you have a degree in Family Studies and you have four brothers and two sisters and you like to travel?"

And I was like, "Ohhhhh no, am I leading him on?? Do I want this? What is going on? Is this okay? Did I let it go too far? What if I break his mom's heart too??" Freak out, freak out, freak out.

But I just kept going. Honestly, I can't even tell you exactly why, but it was probably because there wasn't really a reason to stop. That might sound lame, but it is what it is. It wasn't like, "Oh yes, this feels different, I can tell this is the one (*magical butterflies of surety that I know he's right for me*)." Perhaps the real reason I let it carry on was a huge epiphany I had had the year before. After some serious self-reflection, I realized that I was so absolutely 100% terrified of divorce that it was preventing me from moving forward with anyone ever. Because dating = marriage and breaking up = divorce and I can't even start unless I KNOW it will work out. That was how I lived my life. Well, I decided to challenge this belief, and sure enough: Dating ≠ marriage and breaking up ≠ divorce. And you know what else? Divorce ≠ death. IF I do be brave and get married and then all my worst nightmares come true and I end up divorced? I'll be fine. I will survive. I will be happy. The world will not end. All will be well. I have seen this happen dozens of times (which is also the cause of the fear, but let's not focus on that).

Basically, it was me giving myself permission to let go of expectations, try new things, be open to people and experiences, soften my heart, etc. All the while telling myself, "I am safe. This is okay. This is not permanent. I can be done at any time and we will both be fine."

If you're reading this and fearing for my life because, "WHY would Brittan date someone that makes her feel like she has to tell herself she's okay and this is not permanent?!" Don't worry. It was not him. It was definitely me.

Let me long-story-short the next few months of our dating life. This is how it went on the outside:
- Dates
- Good conversations
- Hard conversations
- Food
- All the marvel movies
- Road trip to California for the wedding of some friends from church
- I love you
- Family dinners
- Reading books
- Working on a stellar crafty project I wanted to do
- More good conversations
- More hard conversations
- Pretending we're not dating at church so as not to get the whole world involved
- Food

This was how it went in my brain:
- He's so great!
- Bah! Should I just break up with him? Is this gonna work?
- He's so nice!
- Oh NO! What if he's actually a serial killer and I'm just missing all the red flags??
- He's so thoughtful!
- I CAN'T COMMIT MYSELF FOREVER TO SOMEONE I DON'T EVEN KNOW!!
- Should I just break up with him? I'm breaking up with him.
- You're not committing yourself to someone you don't know, you're getting to know someone to see if you want to commit. And you can take your sweet time doing it.
- Oh good. Okay. I'll take my time.
- Have I taken my time too long and now it's too late to break up???
- WHAT IF WE GET MARRIED AND HE SEES HOW BORING I ACTUALLY AM?
- I love him!
- I HAVE to break up with him the next time I see him. It's the only way.
- Dating ≠ marriage. You're not married right now. You're fine.
- He's so supportive!
- HE'S LIVING A LIE AND ANY SECOND I'M GOING TO FIND OUT AND BE HEARTBROKEN!
- Should I just break up with him?

A lot of anxiety, which was an entirely new and unexpected experience for me. I do not have anxiety. So, of course, that alone made me constantly question, "Is this a sign? This isn't right? We should break up??"

One day, I made an important realization: Every time I seriously consider breaking up with Jordan, it's because a hard topic has become relevant to discuss and rather than have that hard conversation, I think I might want to avoid it all together and just end the relationship. This happened sub-consciously numerous times, but once I figured it out, life got a bit easier. Suddenly feel like this is the end? What am I avoiding talking about? Oh, that? Okay, I'll be brave and talk about it.  The talks would always go well. Obviously. Because Jordan is thoughtful and nice and reasonable and non-judgmental and willing to be vulnerable and listen and have the difficult chats.

After a few months, we did start talking about marriage. Jordan was all for it. I was on the fence. Because see above.

I would say my main hold up was this: Is it God's will that I marry him? Does He approve? What if He didn't approve, would I be willing to listen to that? How does this even work? Was that the right question? What do I even want?? Of course, I was praying about it constantly from day one, but all that dang anxiety made real Heavenly connection really hard, and I just wasn't sure what was going on.

I decided to approach it with my typical decision-making protocol: Pros and Cons list! It turned out brilliant, actually. As I filled in my lists, I realized there were a few important things I felt we needed to discuss before I could commit to marrying him, and I just wouldn't feel like it was a Yes until those things were taken care of. I told Jordan this and we spent the next few weeks slowly checking those topics off the list. I remember going home the night we checked off the last topic, looking at my list, and thinking, "I guess I have a choice to make now." I think I had been expecting it all to become abundantly clear after all the talking, but it wasn't. However, two things did become clear:

1. I had been looking for/expecting perfection, without realizing it. In fact, I had consciously told myself that I was not looking for perfection. In reality, what I was looking for was someone with all the "perfect" flaws... or perfect "flaws." You know? Like the easy flaws. Like they leave their clothes on the floor sometimes. Plus the flaws I have. Because mine are acceptable.  .... hehehe, yes. It's true. Luckily my eyes were opened to this and I asked myself, "Do I want someone who is perfect? No. That's ridiculous. So, I need to decide if I accept Jordan for the human he is. If I do, cool. If I don't, break up."

2. I really love love loved being single. I was quite surprised to realize how attached I was to my single life and my single self-identity. I loved doing whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. I loved not having to talk to anyone about how I spent my money. I loved not having to be accountable to anyone. I loved traveling the world whenever I felt like it. I loved staying with my sister in Texas for two weeks whenever my heart desired. (Side note: I bought a plane ticket the day before I told Jordan I would marry him, just so I wouldn't feel obligated to consult with him... I know... I have issues... it's fine).

After weighing my options, praying, thinking, discussing, praying, thinking, praying, freaking out, I decided to go for it. I wanted to marry Jordan Bender and since I wasn't getting a giant sign from Heaven either way, I was going to do as I pleased until told otherwise.

It was a Monday evening in June when I told him I was ready to commit. He said Yay. Then we went to a church activity and acted like everything was normal. But I just kept staring at him and thinking to myself, "That's my future husband!" 

I Got Married. Part I.

This was not our first date. Or our second. Or third. Or fourth...
but it's the first pic we have together, so it'll suffice.

It's actually kind of impossible to know where to start... so let's go with December 2017. I had spent the 18 months prior living with my grandparents in Salt Lake City, having the time of my life eating french toast with my grandpa for breakfast and hearing my grandma's life story in bits and pieces each night.  I was 25 and a half years old and ready for a little change. So I moved myself on down to American Fork!

It took me until January to start going to church down there. The first activity I attended was a game night.  I got there late and joined a table that was playing Phase 10. I remember one guy went around the table telling me everyone's names. I made a sincere effort to remember them all, but one was extra hard for me. Bender. I could not remember that for the life of me. Plus, I was sure that couldn't be his actual name.

Fast forward a year to January 2019. I was feeling depressed about life. Winter was pulling out all the stops, my brother/bff got pseudo engaged and was thus abandoning me for another girl, and life was not going my way. Which is not normal for me. Life goes my way. I am happy.

So, of course, I opened up my weather app to find the closest, warmest location that weekend, and then I pulled up my AirBnb app to find the cheapest, nicest place to stay, and then I opened up my messaging app to text my trusted-always-there-for-me single friend to see if she would escape with me to Las Vegas for the weekend. Of course she said of course.

That Friday, we drove down and went straight to a park, pulled out our picnic blankets and journals and books, and just sat there enjoying our beloved sun and 60 degree weather. For two days. It was beautiful. I spent some time in deep reflection, pondering and praying and sorting out my life and letting things go. It was a very intentional process that resulted in very true and needed healing. Perhaps I'll share those details another time.

On Saturday afternoon we headed back home, and I was a changed woman.

Sunday morning I sat in an empty classroom at the church building with Jordan Bender. The two of us had been hosting a "New Member Meeting" each week since the previous August, but on that particular Sunday (and for the first time ever), no one showed up! So we just chatted about life and he asked me, "Have you had any more dreams about the zamboni?"

Rewind to a week-ish before this: All the young single adults in our area were invited to go to a Utah Grizzlies hockey game. It was the first hockey game I had ever been to and it just so happened that I was sitting next to Jordan. When the zambonis came out to clean the ice, there were people sitting on them just for fun while the actual worker did all the work! Of course, I immediately added "Ride a zamboni" to my bucket list. Jordan told me that Brother Smith, the church leader assigned to help our ward, was the one who had connections with the hockey team and got us all tickets. He suggested I talk to him about getting a ride on the zamboni.

After the game, I saw Brother Smith sitting at the bottom of the stadium doing absolutely nothing. Prime position for me to approach. Every excuse I could possibly come up with for not talking to him went through my head. I felt awkward! I hate feeling like I'm using people for their connections. I didn't want to be an inconvenience. It was weird. Plus I'm old and it looked like mostly kids riding on the zamboni. Plus, what if he said no? What if it was actually a dumb question?

Long story short: I did go down there and I did ask, and you know what? He got right up, walked me back to the offices where all the official team managers and such work, introduced me to a guy, and they put me on the schedule to ride the zamboni three weeks later. I. Was. So. Excited.

Then I had a dream about how awesome it was, and that is what Jordan was referring to in his question.

So fast forward to my answer: "No, but guess what! I went to Las Vegas this weekend with my friend..."

And I proceeded to tell him about this experience I had in the Las Vegas LDS Temple. We went there on Saturday morning before heading to the park for another day on picnic blankets. While walking through, we noticed a beautiful atrium filled with trees and flowers and water and sunshine. Before we left, my friend said, "We should ask if we can go in there." Now, if I had been by myself, I definitely would not have asked. Because I felt awkward! I didn't want to be an inconvenience. It was weird. Plus, what if they said no? What if it was actually a dumb question? (Do you see a pattern here? More false beliefs I walk around with and obviously need to let go of).

But I didn't want to be lame and say all those lame excuses to my friend. So I said, "Okay." And then we asked. And you know what? They said, "Oh of course, the door is right over there." So we went through that door and we sat on a bench in the sunlight surrounded by trees and flowers and water and chatted about the meaningful things in life for over an hour. It was one of the most beautiful experiences of the whole weekend.

So I told him this and then I said, "So you know what I've decided? Why not just ask! What if I hadn't asked Brother Smith about the zamboni?? I would not be on that schedule and would not be about to ride on it next week! And what if I had been lame and we didn't ask about the atrium? I would have missed out on that entire experience! When all it took was to ask. And if they had said no, I would have been no worse off. But they said yes! So I got it! And I am happy! So just ask!!"

"Well good," he replied. "Because I've been meaning to ask if you would like to go on a date."

P.S. Video proof that asking gets you places. (THANK YOU, Brother Smith)

2018: Sighs and Heart Eyes

I feel like there are about 27 cliches running through my mind right now... so let me spare you and get right down to it.

In November, a dear friend from my ward sent me the cutest card in the mail. You should have seen me when I opened it. My joy. It was so full. Her words were thoughtful, kind, and uplifting. Not only did it make an impact on me that day, but it made an impact on my entire December because guess whaaaaat....

My goal for this month was to snail-mail a handwritten card to someone each day. I love writing cards, so this goal wasn't so much to stretch me as it was to be consciously grateful for people in my life and to express that gratitude to them in a meaningful way. A couple unexpected things came out of it for me:

1. There are so many people in my life to write to! One card a day really doesn't suffice for all the goodness in my life. That was eye-opening.

2. I ended up writing the card each night as I was getting ready for bed. I would highly recommend this practice to anyone. Spending a few minutes at the end of the day thinking about someone you love and writing to them does some serious good for the soul. It's like a gratitude journal on steroids because you're putting that gratitude into a little bit of service for someone else. And then you hop into bed and you feel awesome.

And just like that 2018 is over.  It was legitimately one of the best years I have had in a long time. Here are some highlights (excluding the monthly goals you've already read about):

- Best book I read: Same Kind of Different as Me. You probably already know that because I've probably already told you about it or given it to you for your birthday.

- Prettiest site I saw: Bike ride through the Cotswolds in England. But Bryce Canyon was a close second or maybe even a tie for first.

- Most delicious food I ate: Pretty much everything I ate at Isabella Station in Sylvester, Georgia (including steak and salmon and a fried chimichanga AND fried cheesecake, and etc., and etc.)

- Hardest I laughed: Probably when we were in the airport in Hawaii and the attendant said over the intercom, "If you have Sky Priority under your seat assignment then you can board." My grandma jumped up and started frantically looking under all the seats and telling us to look under our seats to see if we got the sky priority. It would have been just average hilarious except that my mom started laughing so hard she couldn't breathe and then my brother started laughing really hard and then I started laughing really hard. And there we all were laughing that silent, can't-breathe laugh as my grandma continued the desperate search all by herself, hoping to win the prize. When we told her what he actually meant, she said, "Well, I've been to a lot of parties with games like that!"  If only airports were like parties with prizes.

- Most recent tears shed: When Benjamin got a girlfriend. Yes, I'm that sister.

- Favorite movie: Oh I just don't know. But I realllllllly loved Coco that first time I saw it. All those Mexicanisms I just could not resist.

- Number of weddings attended: 2 (perhaps an all time low? perhaps because I'm old so now I'm attending an all time high number of baby showers instead?)

- Number of bug bites received: 1,453

I think that covers the essentials. Let me end with this: Remember that article I shared last month from Elder Holland? It was called "Making Your Life a Soul-Stirring Journey of Personal Growth." He says our souls were created to grow, and he talks about learning and becoming, repentance and conversion, and change. I've been thinking about the title all month. I even wrote it on a sticky note for my desk at work.

Making my life a soul-stirring journey of personal growth.

That's what I want to do. And I think that's what I've been doing; I think that's why 2018 has been so stellar. I took initiative, set goals, made plans, tried new things, shared insights, prayed, made new friends, gave second chances, failed, turned, learned, lost opportunities, took opportunities, succeeded. All of it.

It was a soul-stirring year of personal growth.

Here's to another one in 2019.

A Sister is a Golden Thread to the Meaning of Life

Sisters who travel the world together stay together
#UK2018

October 19, 2007

"Oh my gosh! You are not going to believe this incredibly good news I have. I'm so excited! I know I've probably started a journal with an entry like this but whatever was my "good news" on my other pages is so not as good as this news! This is like the best beautiful news of my LIFE! Do you want to hear it? Okay..."

My mom was pregnant. Obviously I was beside myself with pure joy. I was 15 years old and obsessed with babies, and my youngest sibling was 9 years old at the time. As you can imagine, we/I spent the next several months counting down the very hours until said baby would finally be born. I made a countdown sticker chart that seriously had 165 days on it. (It was probably the day we found out the gender, so I knew what color to make the chart. You know, because gender stereotyping and stuff...)(Also, little did I know, that chart was 16 spaces too short. It really was an eternity waiting for that child).

September 27, 2012

"Lily is the girly-girl of the fam. She is 4 years old. She loves pink and purple and princesses and hearts and flowers and butterflies and tutus and dancing and looking cute. She is seriously the girliest girl I have ever seen. She loves to play house. She is a picky eater and pretty much eats nothing, but it's fine... Anyway, Lily is so fun and hilarious and she loves to hang out with her brothers and sisters even though we are all like 20 years older than her. She makes me laugh a whole lot and I always look forward to seeing her when I come home." 

Sometimes I do little snapshots of the fam in my journal. I write a paragraph about each person so I can remember that phase of life later. I love this one of Lily. She was so cute. I remember being soooooo sick of playing house because that is all she ever wanted to do. Also, she had trouble saying the "R" sound, and that was adorable.

June 29, 2016

"Here's a little glimpse at a conversation I had with my baby sister today on her last day as a 7 year old...
Me: My friend got engaged.
Lily: YOU need to get engaged!!
Me: Why?
Lily: Well, actually I like you this way."

For real, Lily is among the funniest of people in my current life. Not only is she hilarious, she is also so creative. She makes the coolest forts I have ever seen. She loves scavenger hunts and escape rooms, and we make those for each other regularly. If you give her a cardboard box or two, she will turn them into something magical. She is tender-hearted and loves people and animals and goodness. AND if you feel like you might want to doubt God, just talk to Lily. That girl has faith.

Even though I love the crap out of her, I also have my mortal failings as an older sister. I can be bossy. I can think I need to take responsibility for her life choices. This can lead to arguments and frustration. When this happens, I feel really bad! She does not need another mom or another critic or another judge out of me. She needs a sister and a friend.

I took November as an opportunity to be best friends with Lily. Honestly, I believe this month's goal was inspired -- an answer to my recent prayers about how to be a better sister to her. The rules were simple: Treat her how I would treat my best friend. This includes obvious things like listening to what she has to say, spending time with her, and asking her opinion on things. If she did or said something that upset me, I made a way bigger effort to see past that, like I would for a friend. I also made it a point to only go to my parents' house if I had enough time to actually spend some on Lily (rather than just grabbing food and leaving).

Here's how it turned out:

1. We made her her very own playlist on my phone with allllllll her favorite songs and none of my opinions. Whenever we were together in my car, we would listen to it.

2. We went laser-tagging, only her favorite activity of all time (even though she lost and cried at the end...it's fine).

3. We played games. She beats me at Connect Four and Qwixx and Sorry, and I beat her at Concentration and Rummikub.

4. We watched a movie.

5. We went to a play.

6. I bought her a cup of pretzel bites at Annie's and then dragged her around H&M and made her give me all her opinions on all the clothes, only to buy nothing as usual.

7. We had a sleepover in her fort (except I didn't actually do my sleeping in the fort, but she doesn't know that, soooo it counts).

8. I took her ministering with me once. That was fun.

9. Last night, we exercised together. That's turning into our new favorite thing. She can do 50 sit ups in like zero time flat, and I sit out during back walkover time. Also, she judges me on my bridge form (and my splits), but I would probably judge myself, so I'm not worried about it. When I was leaving the house after that, she gave me a hug and I said, "You're so warm and cozy!" And she said, "You're so...willing to hug!" Accurate on both accounts.



Okay. This is turning long. Let me end.

I've always felt sad for girls who don't have sisters (and for girls who don't have brothers, but that's for another time). I would never have survived childhood or teenagehood or young adulthood without my sister, Meckenzie. I want to be there for Lily like Meckenzie is there for me. I'm not saying I was the worst sister ever prior to November because please. Of course I have always been there for Lily. She probably didn't even notice a difference this month. But I noticed! I was there for her a little more consciously with my brain and my heart, and it was just nice, you know? It felt good. It felt good on the inside. I needed the renewed perspective.

So. That's it. Sisters are worth it.

(My cousin, Laurie, took these pics, btw)

P. S. Can you even imagine how fun it will be when I'm 39 and Lily is 23 and we get to be adult friendsisters? I'm excited, but I can wait. I like her kid self a lot.


(Title of post from Isadora James)

What I Learned From Meeting Someone New Each Day for a Month

October was a big month.  I decided to take my introvert self on an adventure into the world of extroversion and intentionally talk to people.

The goal was to meet (at least) one new person per day. Rules were as follows:
1. I had to learn their name.
2. They had to learn mine.
3. I could not have met them before.
4. I couldn't tell them about my goal as an excuse to talk to them. To them, it was a regular encounter with a stranger.

How did it go, you ask?

Oct. 1: Benjamin. Soon-to-be pro genealogist who lived in Louisiana once upon a time.
Oct. 2: Dan. Personal chef. Brazilian accent.
Oct. 3: Hilary. The best meal she's ever eaten in her life was hibachi in Acapulco, Mexico.
Oct. 4: Samantha. Artist. Left-handed. #rightbrained. She said to me, "You're really level-headed. I need that."
Oct. 5: Elder Deakins and Elder Reed. Because you can never meet just one missionary. They were top notch.
Oct. 6: Taylor. Asian, but fluent in Spanish. Plot twist.
Oct. 7: Dalton. Last semester at BYU, studying exercise science. Applying to med school in the spring. No plot twist.
Oct. 8: Brad. Introduced me to permethrin. Apparently it's good for killing cockroaches.
Oct. 9: Angela. I met her at like 5:07 a.m. so she's automatically a cut above the rest.
Oct. 10: Eric. I asked him if he was this girl's dad...turns out he was this girl's brother...#regrets.
Oct. 11: RoseAnn. Special K bar from Village Baker comes highly recommended by her. I have yet to verify.
Oct. 12: David. One of the few I actually shook hands with this month.
Oct. 13: .....
Oct. 14: Kat. Works at Petsmart and loves animals. Getting a kitty soon. Fitting.
Oct. 15: Sherry. All about that essential oil life. If Young Living had anything to do with it in the last two decades, she knows about it.
Oct. 16: Amy. I witnessed her first northern Utah hike, her first meal at Cubby's, her first time at the Pioneer Museum, her first session in the Salt Lake Temple, and her first taste of Indian food, and she took it all like a champ.
Oct. 17: Ty. On a scale of 1-10, I'd give his ten key skills an 8.
Oct. 18: Kierra. It turns out we have the exact same taste buds when it comes to smoothies. Also, she plans to name her future child Brittan. Obviously we were meant to be.
Oct. 19: Phillip. French Californian who now lives in Cedar City because IT'S SO DANG BEAUTIFUL.
Oct. 20: Kimmie. Wears amethyst because it's the stone of protection and sobriety and she's going on four years sober. Also, she believed in Santa until she was 15.
Oct. 21: Garrin. Think musical hipster. Complete with trendy glasses.
Oct. 22: Jamey. Currently training for a 10k.
Oct. 23: Isabella. 12 years old. Greeted me with, "Are you a twin to anyone? Because if you are, there are a lot of twins in the world." Of course I immediately created a list of best conversation starters and put that at the top.
Oct. 24: Sister Lane and Sister La Croix. How often do you get to have two sets of missionaries share the same message with you twice in one month?? Clearly, God wants me to share the Book of Mormon with every last one of you.
Oct. 25: .....
Oct. 26: Auntie Clarita. Been working the fruit stand in Oahu for 15 years. She couldn't really handle my name, but it was endearing to see her try so hard.
Oct. 27: Elder and Sister Galloway. My grandpa's brother and his wife, currently serving a mission at BYU-H. She thought I was still in high school, but I won't hold that against her.
Oct. 28: Kathy. She was on the same plane to and from Hawaii, and on the same bench as me at church. She asked if Benjamin and I were twins. When I said no, she said, "Oh, just really close in age?" I took it as a huge compliment.
Oct. 29: Tim. Lives the dream life renting beach equipment to people in Hawaii and giving private kayak tours.
Oct. 30: KP. Stands for Kauila Pele, meaning lightening and lava. Original name: Brad. Claims to have a passion for coffee.
Oct. 31: Gretta. Her favorite kind of apple is honey crisp, but she'll go for fuji if she's not up for the price.

There you have it. 32 people I could introduce you to if we crossed paths, and I did not know any of them before October happened.

About a week and a half into the goal, I told my brother, Brady, what I was doing. He asked, "Are any of them worth knowing again?"

It was a good question, and one I thought about for the rest of the month.

Honestly, this was a hard goal for me. It can be awkward to make conversation with strangers. It can be uncomfortable to offer a compliment or ask a question, or share an insight with someone I hardly know. It is a lot easier to keep to myself, and sometimes that is okay. But sometimes I cross paths with someone who has exactly the suggestion or exactly the experience or exactly the words I needed that day. Or maybe they need exactly what I have. Would life go on if I never talked to them and kept to myself? Yes, and that is just fine. But could life be a little better if I go out of my comfort zone for two seconds and make an unexpected connection? Yes.

For example, I told Hilary I was going to Hawaii this month, and she immediately whipped out all sorts of pictures and suggestions for me. She is the one who told me about Chinaman's Hat. Look what I would have missed out on if I hadn't met her:

The view from Chinaman's Hat

 Even though I dreaded it a lot of times, I never regretted talking to a stranger after it was over. Usually the interaction left me with a few extra smiles that I would not have experienced otherwise. As far as "knowing again" as Brady asked: I have indeed seen a few of them again, and guess what! Still worth it. Not one of them would I avoid if we crossed paths. In fact, by meeting them the first time I actually expanded my comfort zone. If I was in a room full of strangers, plus one of those people on the list above, I would feel really happy about walking over to them and talking again. I'm excited to see Hilary again and tell her all about my experience on Chinaman's Hat. I would visit Auntie Clarita everyday if I could. I'll see Samantha again tonight, and I'm going to ask her about her current art adventures.

I'm happy to go into November with a few more friends and a few more good memories, thanks to October.

Auntie Clarita

 "What a great favor God does to those he places in the company of good people."
-St. Teresa of Avila

This Was September

I did have a goal for September, but then September actually happened and I discovered my goal was not realistic. Fortunately, the world didn't end and we get second chances and all that good stuff, so look forward to reading about that goal another month.

In the meantime though, I spent September reading the Saints book! Let me tell you about that real quick because it was a true pro on the month's pros and cons list. Plus it turned out to be a really great continuation of my July and August goals.

In case you didn't hear, the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints has a group of historians compiling their history in a narrative form and publishing it in four volumes. The first one came out on September 4 (+/- a few). You can read it here, or on the gospel library app, or you can buy the actual thing from Deseret Book for $5 (+/- a few).

So I read it! And I loved it. There are so many things I could say about it, but I want you to stop reading this and go read that, so I'll try to keep it simple:

I am humbled and grateful for the road paved by the early saints of the church. It's really easy to sit on my cushy bench on Sundays with dozens of other mormons around me and thousands more throughout the state (and millions more throughout the world!), and talk about the fact that we're going to hear the prophet speak this weekend like that's totally normal. I got a new perspective as I read about the saints gathering together less than 200 years ago to hear the prophet Joseph Smith preach at the first conference. Nobody there "grew up in the church." Each of them had made (and would make) significant changes and sacrifices for their newfound faith. It was during these early conferences that members heard for the first time new truths about the afterlife, about the Priesthood, about eternal marriage and families.

It's really easy to hear about the saints getting persecuted and having to move from city to city over and over and over, when I know that they eventually make it to the Salt Lake Valley and "all is well." The saints didn't know that. They fully expected to establish Zion in Missouri and build up the kingdom there. I can't even handle how much faith it would have taken to pack up your family AGAIN and leave in the middle of the night in the middle of winter as your house is being burned down and your cattle are being slaughtered and bullets are flying past you and your husband is missing and your four children are clinging to you. And you're thousands of miles from the Salt Lake Valley that you don't even know will exist someday.

It's really easy to hear about Joseph Smith being murdered only 14 years after the church was established, when I know that in 2018, President Russell M. Nelson has been called of God to lead His church and carry on the work. When President Monson died earlier this year, I hardly even blinked because I knew God had prepared another (as He always has) to fill his place. But what about the early saints?! Their beloved prophet and leader died, the local government and surrounding cities were threatening them, and several church leaders were coming out saying they were the rightful next church president. They didn't have 175 (+/- a few) years of church history to tell them that it would be fine.

Listen to this description of their perspective after being forced to flee yet again: "No one in the camp knew what the morning would bring. Yet they were not leaping blindly into the dark. They had made covenants with God in the temple, strengthening their faith in His power to guide and sustain them on their journey. Each trusted that somewhere to the west, across the summits of the Rocky Mountains, they would find a place to gather together, build another temple, and establish the kingdom of God on earth."

Inspired.

I'd give it 5 stars.

Feel free to read it and let me know what you think. But, lest we get our priorities mixed up, I have a duty to remind you that if you haven't read the Book of Mormon yet you should read that first, and THEN read Saints and THEN let me know what you think.

Remember what it was to be me: That is always the point.

Several months ago I visited the home of Camille, a friend of my mother's whose calling in life is to journal. At the age of 16 she read the journal of one of her great grandmothers and it deeply impacted her. She began her own, and over the course of her life was inspired and guided on all things journal. You should have seen it. Now in her 70s, she has decades of her life recorded and neatly organized in books, complete with cross references, footnotes, and topics. She has a place for spiritual events, temple experiences, regular life, etc. At the end of each year she creates a table of contents so she can easily come back and relearn from the experiences of that year. Every entry has a heading. Every page a number.

Her work is so thorough, organized, and meaningful that she has coordinated with the church to have it stored in the vaults where it can be used later as a resource and reference to bless the lives of future us.  She told us she doesn't think everyone needs to be as thorough and organized as she is, but she thinks everyone should at least do something.

As Camille shared her testimony, verses from the scriptures, and experiences on the importance of record keeping, I was touched. I wanted to do better. One thing that stood out to me was the fact that, in addition to the scriptures and words of the prophets, she reads a little bit of her journal each day. "My journal is like personal scripture to me," she said.  I wondered how that could be.

Later that week I pulled out my box of journals and found I had completely filled 10 books of various sizes. I started my first in December 2002, at 10 years old. I wrote about Christmas. The next couple years have entries here and there, but nothing consistent. At the beginning of high school I got more into it, and by the time college came I was all about the journal life. I wrote quite a bit on my mission as well, and a fair amount just after. The last couple years have been pretty spotty.

I decided to follow Camille's advice and began reading from my own journals. At random, I chose to first read a journal I kept my sophomore year of college -- Fall 2011.  That was a good choice. I read about my time living at Old Farm in Logan, working at Jamba Juice and Morningside Preschool, staying up late doing homework, and making peanut butter shakes with my roommates. That was the year I learned I love to exercise. I also read about answered prayers and spiritual promptings. I read about my relationship with God, about my scripture studies, my plans for the future, and my fears and my hopes. I was surprised to see how much I had forgotten about that time in my life. I was also surprised to see how much I have changed and grown since then. A lot of those experiences influenced choices I made later, and had an impact on me that I could not have foreseen at the time.

 Eventually I made it to the journal I kept as a sophomore in high school -- Fall 2007. I read about learning to drive, joining the golf team, and taking a hard spanish class. I read about the day we learned my mom was going to have another baby -- the entire family was elated. That list they have you write in young women about what you should look for in a husband was in there (eye roll but also grin that I have such insight into 15 year old me). I got my patriarchal blessing that year, and wrote about many other spiritual experiences and answered prayers.

One such answered prayer came in the form of a girl named Jenna. To make a very long story very short: I went into high school with no friends and I was sad about that. I prayed for months about it and wrote many entries in my journal on the topic. Fortunately, I have a happy disposition and a stellar family, and by some miracle I didn't go completely down a dark and dreary hole of no return. But it was an honest struggle. Tears. Frowns. Etc.

Amidst the struggle, I decided I wanted to go to EFY the next summer and it was coming time to register. I wasn't thrilled with the idea of going by myself, and ended up asking Jenna if she wanted to go with me. She was a friend from school at the time. I didn't know her super well, but we'd been acquaintances for quite a while, and we had several mutual friends. She said yes! As the summer approached, we spent more and more time together, and by the end of EFY week, she was my best friend.

Fast forward 10+ years and look. Alllllll the heart eyes:

I have thanked God from the very bottom of my heart so many times over the years for Jenna. But here's what's crazy: Some time between then and now, I forgot about the struggle! I mean, I was aware of the general experience I had that year, but not the meaning of it. Reading those journal entries, I was reminded just how hard that time was for me. I was reminded just how much I prayed. I was shown the embodiment of God's hand in my life.

I think that might be what Camille meant about her journals being personal scripture. Each entry that I've read over the last few months has been a reminder to me of the things I've learned; a snapshot of a lesson God has taught me; a tick in the timeline of the person He is creating out of me.

In August, my goal was to journal. It didn't really do much for me in the moment, honestly. But I know that future me will be happy to look back and remember what it was to be me.


(Title of the post is a quote from Joan Didion. According to Google. So you never know.)

What I Learned From My Ancestors This Month

Once upon a time there was a young girl named Agnes. She was born in Scotland, but moved to Canada with her family when she was 4 years old. Her parents cleared the land for farming, and that is where she spent her childhood and early adult years. She was the 2nd of 10 children.

In April 1832, she married a fellow named Alexander Hill. A few years later, a couple missionaries came to town and taught the Hill family about the restored gospel of Jesus Christ. In 1840, they were baptized as members of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. They had 6 children at the time.

In 1842 they left most of their belongings, and moved to Nauvoo to join the other members of the church.  Like the rest of the saints at that time, Agnes and Alexander faced a lot of persecution and eventually made the trek to the Salt Lake Valley, settling in Millcreek. Also like the rest of the saints, they left behind friends, family, and property at great sacrifice for their beliefs. They ended up with 13 kids and Agnes claimed to have a baker's dozen children.

Her granddaughter wrote: "Agnes taught her children the gospel by example as well as by Precept. She was very industrious. She made lye to make soap, from the wool; and spun the wool into yarn and made it into clothes for her large family. She lived the laws and commandments of the Lord as revealed."

One of their thirteen was a daughter named Agnes, who had a son named William, who had a son named Dennis, who had a son named William, who had a daughter named Carol, who had a daughter named Brittan.

I have another great, great, etc. grandmother named Jane who was a midwife. She saved money from her work and left $25 to each granddaughter named after her.

I have another named Elizabeth. She came to the US from Scotland on a boat (because how else would she have done it...). On the journey, many people suffered with black diphtheria, and she was able to help them as a nurse.

I have one named Hugh who had a stroke at a young age, and was an invalid the rest of his life. He built each of his sons a brick home to live in when they got married.

- - -

Several years ago, my grandma wrote a book called Wildcats, Wagons, Wives, and Wardens. It is written from the perspective of her father, Albert Barlow, about his life, childhood, what led him to choose to live polygamy, and how that affected him and his family.

Reading that book, it was fascinating to see how much I have in common with my great-grandfather. Some of the beliefs and world views he had were definitely passed from him to my grandma, to my mom, to me, and I think that's pretty cool.  It was also interesting to learn about his parents and siblings, and what it was like growing up in Utah in the early 1900s.

- - -

A couple weeks before my 12th birthday, my father passed away. A year later, my mom took us children to visit his grave, but I haven't been back since. I guess it's because I don't really associate that spot in the ground with him...? I don't know. But I decided Family History month would be a good time to visit. So one sunny Saturday morning, I took Benjamin with me in search of our dad's grave. First of all, it was an ordeal just finding the cemetery because google was being ridiculous and my memory of its location was 13 years old. But find it we did! Unfortunately, we hadn't a clue where in the cemetery to look, and the help desk people were closed. So we just searched at random for a minute. Then we called my mom who led us astray for several minutes. Then we called my grandma who gave us some hints (thank goodness for cardinal directions, everyone). After maybe 40 minutes of wandering, we finally found it!

1. I was surprised how old it looked. It doesn't feel like it's been there that long.
2. Believe it or not, I still don't associate that spot with my actual dad.
3. I felt a little bad about the fact that we didn't even have any flowers to put there or anything. What kind of children are we?!
4. I think it was worth the trip. It was nice to dedicate some time to thinking about him and what he taught me and about the Plan of Salvation, and etc.

What else did I do during my Family History month, you might ask?

I indexed 72 records. The goal was 100, which I did not quite accomplish, but it was still a valiant effort. Previous to this month, I had done a total of 7 in my life.

I got a few names to take to the temple (which I have not yet done, so here we go August).

I attended Family History class at church. That was definitely a highlight of the month. The teacher would present a little lesson/discussion on some related topic and then we would spend time on familysearch.org. It was nice to be reminded about why we need to learn about and find our ancestors, about the importance of the family, about making covenants with God, and about God's plan for his children.

Last week in class she read to us from this talk by Elder Renlund. Here is what he said:

"As we participate in family history and temple work today, we also lay claim to the "healing" blessings promised by prophets and apostles. These blessings are also breathtakingly amazing because of their scope, specificity, and consequence in mortality. This long list includes these blessings:
- Increased understanding of the Savior and His atoning sacrifice;
- Increased influence of the Holy Ghost to feel strength and direction for our own lives;
- Increased faith, so that conversion to the Savior becomes deep and abiding;
- Increased ability and motivation to learn and repent because of an understanding of who we are, where we come from, and a clearer vision of where we are going.
- Increased refining, sanctifying, and moderating influences in our hearts;
- Increased joy through an increased ability to feel the love of the Lord;
- Increased family blessings, no matter our current, past, or future family situation or how imperfect our family tree may be;
- Increased love and appreciation for ancestors and living relatives, so we no longer feel alone;
- Increased power to discern that which needs healing and thus, with the Lord's help, serve others;
- Increased protection from temptations and the intensifying influence of the adversary; and
- Increased assistance to mend troubled, broken, or anxious hearts and make the wounded whole.
If you have prayed for any of these blessings, participate in family history and temple work. As you do so, your prayers will be answered."

This is huge. In the last few weeks I have had multiple friends talk with me about big and real and deep and intense trials and struggles they are facing. Not to mention the pit of despair the world seems to be plunging into willy nilly. It's scary! And confusing. It makes me feel tired.

But hearing those promises from Elder Renlund's talk is truly inspiring. Many of those blessings I have prayed for almost word for word. It is hopeful and wonderful to know that there is light! There is good in the dark world, and we have tools and means to access it.

I'm grateful for the blessing July was in my life. August 1st me is a little better than July 1st me because of it.

(P.S. If you have no idea what the crap I'm talking about with family history and indexing and temple and etc. send me a message and I'll be glad to fill you in)

What I Learned From Opening a Cookbook This Month

Dear all roommates past and present,

I'm sure you rolled your eyes or survived a fit of laughter or almost peed your pants when you found out I wanted to do nutrition-y stuff with my life. And I'm sure you said to yourself, "Doesn't she know that nutrition involves actually cooking...?" I'm sure you pondered on our months of living in the same house and counted on one hand the number of meals I cooked. I'm sure you thought about all the delicious and nutritious meals you actually cooked for me and thought about how you would probably make a better nutritionist than I would.

Well. Have no fear. I thought the same things. Fortunately for me, June 2018 came, and along with it a goal to cook three dinners per week.

The rules were as follows:
1. Every meal had to have at least one side dish.
2. Either the main dish or the side dish or both had to be something I had never previously made.
3. I could only crock pot once (because I'm sure all those meals you counted on your one hand involved the crock pot).
4. Don't worry about anything else (i.e. how nutritious it actually is, how it looks, how it smells, how it tastes, how long it takes, etc.).

I honestly had my doubts as to whether or not I could do this goal, but guess what! I DID IT!! Okay, I missed 1.5 meals, but still. Success.

Here's the crazier part: It was like my old kitchen self died and was replaced by this really awesome new kitchen self.

Old Kitchen Self:
1. Cringes at the very thought of cooking.
2. Takes a million years every time she cooks anything because she reads the recipe ten million times, asks 12 million questions, complains 45 million times, cuts her finger, doesn't have all the ingredients, gets teary when chopping onions, finds a hair in her food, etc.
3. Has to follow the recipe with exactness or else she has a heart attack and a stroke at the same time.
4. Doesn't even go into the kitchen so as to avoid 1-3.

New Kitchen Self:
1. Finds herself calm and content when thinking about what to make for dinner.
2. Has superhero speed when it comes to chopping, mixing, measuring, etc.
3. Can easily go with the flow when it comes to recipes that aren't very specific, and somehow finds a way to make it all work out just fine.
4. Not only does she enter the kitchen, but she brings friends with her to partake of the food.

I'd say the highlight was the day I invited a small crowd to come eat food I made for my birthday, because 1) I don't cook and 2) I don't invite crowds of any size over.  It was a real plot twist for everyone involved.

So a big fat thanks to anyone who ate my food this month. Good news: I think New Kitchen Self is here to stay, so get excited to see what July has in store for us.

The crowd minus the food

What I Think and Feel at 25

To be quite honest, 25 has been one of my very favorite ages. It’s been a life-changer, for sure. Here are some of the highlights:

-        Ran a marathon to celebrate my quarter century birthday

-        Went to Europe for the first time

-        Went to Georgia twice

-        Went to Texas thrice

-        Started an online nutritionist program

-        Watched my sister give birth to her second daughter

-        Moved to American Fork

-        Welcomed a brother home from his mission

-        Watched another brother get married

-        Got my doula certification

-        Went to Europe for the second time (and drove on the left side of the road)

-        Led a choir

But, as I'm sure you could guess (because cliche and stuff), it really wasn’t these things that made 25 so great. I could make similar lists for when I was 24 and 21 and 17 and all my other ages. I think what made 25 so great was what happened on the inside.

I felt some significant shifts this year. Maybe it was my prefrontal cortex doing some developing? I think it was more than that.

A friend recently pointed out to me that F. Scott Fitzgerald wrote an essay called "What I Think and Feel at 25" when he was this age. I haven’t actually read all of his, so I wouldn’t say I’m recommending it. I’m just doing my own because how could I not?! You’re only 25 once.

What I Think and Feel at 25

I think about my childhood a lot, and about my siblings, and my family. It’s been an interesting 25 years with them... I’ll just leave it at that. Maybe we can pick up on this note in another 25 years.

I think forgiveness and love are the answers to pretty much everything. Easy to say, harder to do. I have prayed A LOT about these two things over the last 25 years, and especially the last five. For a long time, it felt like I was getting nowhere; like I was saying the same thing in different words over and over and over and over and nothing was happening. But I didn’t stop. And then, almost overnight it seemed like, it got me somewhere. At some point while I was 25, I realized that I was in a different place. I was forgiving and loving like I never have before. I feel deeply grateful to God for that.

Speaking of God, I think He is even better than I can imagine.

I feel nervous about taking the next step. I always have. But more than that, I feel certain that it's right, and that God is here to help me. So, I'm taking it.

I think we know less than we think we do. I also think we don't need to know as much as we think we need to know. And the more I think about that, the more at peace I feel with my life, honestly. I know enough for today. I am in the right place. I am going in the right direction. I think that's all I need to know right now.

I feel happy with where I am. I have a lot to learn and a long way to go, but I'm okay with that. I know that will come with time. I think 50-year-old me will look back at 25-year-old me and smile, knowing what's coming ahead -- what joys and pains and fears and victories and heartbreaks and triumphs I will face. Knowing that it will work out. Knowing it will be hard, but so good.

I think life is beautiful and worth it. 

Tomorrow I'm 26. I think I'll like being 26. 

What I learned from The Family: A Proclamation to the World this month

If you know me at all, you probably know that I really love families. I always have. My siblings have always been my best friends. I always said I wanted to be a mom when I grew up. I studied families in college. I worked with families professionally. I love getting to know other families. I believe in the family.

In 1995, the presidency of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints issued a statement they called "The Family: A Proclamation to the World." This one-page document is a declaration of the importance of the family in God's plan, and how we need to do our part to protect and strengthen families. (If you haven't read it, you can find it here).

My goal for May was to memorize it. I spent the month studying it and thinking about it and reciting it to myself, and guess what. Success! But if you want to hear it you'll have to take me to lunch so I can show you in person... :)

A couple days ago I read an old mormon newsroom article from 2013 called "Homage to the Home: Why Society Needs Strong Families" (you can read it here). The author discusses some of the implications (in society and otherwise) of deteriorating families. I particularly appreciated this reminder: None of us is born a mere individual. We come to this world with a network of pre-existing relationships, bonds and obligations, both familial and civil.

I just want you to know that I believe this is true. It can be tempting to focus on ourselves and our own wants, desires, talents, and goals. It can sometimes be easier to just do it on our own. Being in a family is hard! Even though I love my family, I can tell you that some of my very most heart-wrenching trials, my longest cry sessions, my sincerest prayers, have been because of them. But I can also tell you that some of my sweetest memories, some of my most joyful laughs, and some of my most important life choices have been because of them.

I am not a mere individual. I am connected to a family here on earth, and each of us is connected as part of God's eternal family. It's not a matter of social construct or culture. It's by divine design.

I choose to stand for the family, and I invite you to do the same.