It appears that I took a bit of a break from the blogging world this year -- and what a year it has been!
I would like to announce to everyone who still receives my updates that I am BACK, but I am actually writing for a BRAND NEW blog -- a collaboration between myself and a good friend of mine, where we write, do vlogs, and share creativity covering subjects (hopefully) of interest to the 20-something population of which I am a part.
I invite any and all to check us out over at (cleanenoughlaundry.blogspot.com)
Here's our first post-copied below, just so you can see what we're all about! Hope to see you there!
Now that we've gotten that out of the way, below lay critical thoughts on how to do college right and stuff. Take note, ya filthy animals.
Other Honorable Mentions:
Pat yourself on the back after cooking something not out of a box by treating yourself to some Taco Bell the following day. You deserve it, champ. Also, we feel you if college is your first time cooking things out of boxes. Either way, get Taco Bell.
On days when you are looking especially hip, it is appropriate to listen to Shakira/Justin Timberlake while walking to your classes. Take many selfies on these days. Snapchat your mom. You are fabulous.
Sometimes you end up on the wrong side of borderline grades. We feel you, brother. We won't judge you if you take it out on RateMyProfessor. Pro tip: envision a montage of yourself next semester killin' the game. Probably just watch Legally Blonde, though.
Just do you, because at the end of all of this, you really don't want to look back and regret not being ~true to the homie inside~**
**this is not justification for wearing running shoes with jeans, however. 0/10 okay.
This is word for word what I posted on my facebook earlier today.
When I was very young, I assumed that serving a mission was
something ALL people in my church did, women included. I was extremely surprised to find out that my
mother never went, but got married instead (a perfectly wonderful alternative.)
However, instilled within me from that point forward was a strong internal
desire to serve a full-time mission for the church that I love, and to bring
others to the light of the gospel that is one of the greatest, if not THE greatest defining characteristic of
my life. The strength of this desire
fluctuated from time to time throughout my life, but has been strongest during
the past three years of my life in particular, ever since I came to college and
realized what an absolute necessity and strength the gospel is in my life, and
I have been anxiously anticipating the time when I would finally be old enough
to serve a mission for my Heavenly Father.
What has become more undeniably clear this past year than
any other is the fact that Heavenly Father is absolutely, 100% in control of
the course of my life, and that He is the Master of all, including throwing me
completely unexpected curveballs. (Cue the tears that always seem to come to my
eyes whenever I think about what I’m about to tell you all). When our beloved Prophet, Thomas S. Monson,
made the historical announcement about the reduced missionary age for young men
AND women, I (like millions of others) jumped at the opportunity to get started
on my papers. And, like most other
pre-missionaries that I’ve spoken to, had my own personal battles with
discouraging thoughts from the adversary, who assured me that I was in no way
fit to take on the responsibility of serving a mission. I went to the temple once a week, was on my
hands and knees in prayer to my father in heaven more than I can recall ever
having been before, and finally was able to overcome these negative feelings
regarding myself in the mission field.
So I was set. I would be leaving
on my mission as soon as Winter Semester 2013 was over. I put in my papers and was completely set to both
open my call with my family and go through the temple while I was at home with
my family over Christmas break. The
moment I left the Stake President’s office after having my papers submitted on
December 10th, an entirely new and unexpected feeling washed over
me. Suddenly I strongly felt I wouldn’t
be leaving on my mission when I originally thought I would be. The difference this time, however, was that I
KNEW that this feeling wasn’t the same as the discouraging ones I had
experienced before. This was undeniably
a message from God. I brushed that feeling aside and continued on with my day,
but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had
submitted my papers too early, and that my entire plan would soon be
altered. I traveled home, expecting my
call to arrive the following week, but it didn’t come. My mom then shared with me that she felt that
I needed to change my temple date because I had family in town, and to fly back
home a few weeks later, but as I am a chronic planner and have a strange need
to have things always happen according to plan, I wasn’t prepared to let that
happen. There are many complicated
details to this particular situation that I won’t get into, but I tried
everything to change my temple date, push back my flight, etc. etc. to make
what I had originally planned work out.
Finally, my mom pointed out that I really couldn’t do ANYTHING until I
received my call, and that I was trying to “fit a square peg into a round hole.”
It wasn’t until then that I realized that the entire process of putting in my
papers had felt like that. I was trying
to get a jump start on something that Heavenly Father didn’t have planned for
me yet. In addition to that, I got that
same feeling from when I had originally submitted my papers, very strongly telling
me that I have a special purpose to fulfill here at home (or at school in
Utah), and that I needed to stay. Believe
me, this is a very difficult feeling and situation to try and describe. Every single time someone would ask me “What
do you think it will be like?” “Where do you think you will go?” I would give
them an answer, “Oh, I think it will be great, I hope to go French speaking,
etc. etc.” I felt like these were nice answers, but in the back of my mind I
couldn’t shake the feeling that I wouldn’t be in the field. And I didn’t understand why. Did I do something wrong? I had spent the
last 3 years of my life putting all my time and energy into making myself into
a person I could be proud of and that would be worthy and able to serve the
best mission possible. Why was something I had wanted and was so sure would
happen suddenly not a part of the plan anymore? And if Heavenly Father needed
me for something outside the mission field, what could it possibly be? It’s not
like I have any marriage prospects…but for some reason, the feeling persisted
that I needed to be back at BYU during the fall. But then…my call wasn’t coming. Every day I would think, “surely today,” but
when my family members and I would check the mail with no call, my heart would
sink. Logically, I’m sure the delay had
to do with the holidays and the mail system, but I also felt that it was an
opportunity to take into consideration everything I had been feeling and all of
the answers I had received and make a decision beforehand, so I was sure that
the decision I made wouldn’t be contingent upon where I was called to. If the Lord needed me here, he needed me here,
even if my mission call was sending me to Paris.
Fast forward to last night.
I had let go of the idea of going to the temple entirely because my call
hadn’t arrived, but it did finally come the day I left town. I was sitting on
my couch in Provo, and my parents called me on skype to read me what it said. “Denmark,” my mom said…”your ancestors are
from Denmark. That’s such a great opportunity! So much geneaology you can do!”
I cannot even tell you how that felt.
Denmark would be so perfect. I
knew immediately that if I were to go, I could imagine myself in no other place
but Denmark, learning Danish, discovering my roots, and bringing the Danish
people to the gospel. Secretly I knew
that I wouldn’t have received a call that would be easy to turn down, but I was
not prepared for how hard it was. My
heart was still open to the possibility of still serving, and I hoped that my
mind would change when I discovered where I would be going, but I received an
even stronger confirmation that I was to stay for the time being.
I wish more than anything that I had all the answers….I want
more than anything to be able to tell you that “I’m not going because so-and-so
is supposed to happen,” but the honest truth is that I don’t know anything
aside from the promptings that I’ve received.
It’s even more difficult now that I know that Denmark would be a sure
thing, whereas everything about staying home still seems foggy, and it goes
against my whole nature and my “stick to the plan” self to choose the path that
is less clear. I want to be very clear in expressing to all that this is
without a doubt the most difficult decision I have every made in my entire
life, and I pray every second of every day that I’m right about this. I know several of you have been so excited, and
I don’t want in any way to be a disappointment to anyone, but I need to trust
in my Heavenly Father that if I stay clean and pure, He will give me the answers
I need when I am ready. I’m sure many of
you have your own feelings about what I have said, but at this time I humbly
ask that in place of advice and reason, I would so appreciate simple support
and prayers that everything will turn out the way the Lord intended. Through the dark clouds ahead, I will most
definitely be clinging to the Iron Rod with all of my strength until the Lord
brings me to the beautiful Tree of Life and the knowledge and peace that he has
in store for me.
“The trouble with us today, there are too many of us who put
question marks instead of periods after what the Lord says. I want you to think about that. We shouldn’t be concerned about why He said
something, or whether or not it can be made so.
Just trust the Lord. We don’t try
to find the answers of explanations. We shouldn’t
try to spend time explaining what the Lord didn’t see fit to explain.” –Harold B.
Lee.
“For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to
face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.” – 1
Corinthians 13: 12
Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me? Somewhere beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see? Do you hear the people sing? Say, do you hear the distant drums? It is the future that they bring when tomorrow comes!
--------------------------------------------
When I lived in Paris, I had the opportunity to visit the home of Victor Hugo.
Unfortunately, it was closed for tours the day I was there, so I picnicked outside.
But I cannot express to you the overwhelming spirit of Christ and goodness that came from that place. What an inspired man. A few quotes from the book I intend to read cover to cover, highlight in profusely, and cherish like none other this coming Christmas holiday, with anticipation of the upcoming film:
“When love has fused and mingled two beings in a sacred and angelic unity, the secret of life has been discovered so far as they are concerned; they are no longer anything more than the two boundaries of the same destiny; they are no longer anything but the two wings of the same spirit. Love, soar.”
~*~
“Diamonds are found only in the dark bowels of the earth; truths are found only in the depths of thought. It seemed to him that after descending into those depths after long groping in the blackest of this darkness, he had at last found one of these diamonds, one of these truths, and that he held it in his hand; and it blinded him to look at it.”
~*~
“Nothing discernible to the eye of the spirit is more brilliant or obscure than man; nothing is more formidable, complex, mysterious, and infinite. There is a prospect greater than the sea, and it is the sky; there is a prospect greater than the sky, and it is the human soul.”
~*~
“...We pray together, we are afraid together, and then we go to sleep. Even if Satan came into the house, no one would interfere. After all, what is there to fear in this house? There is always one with us who is the strongest. Satan may visit our house, but the good Lord lives here.”
~*~
“If you wish to understand what Revolution is, call it Progress; and if you wish to understand what Progress is, call it Tomorrow.”
~*~
“...Can human nature be so entirely transformed inside and out? Can man, created by God, be made wicked by man? Can a soul be so completely changed by its destiny, and turn evil when its fate is evil? Can the heart become distorted, contract incurable deformities and incurable infirmities, under the pressure of disproportionate grief, like the spinal column under a low ceiling? Is there not in every human soul a primitive spark, a divine element, incorruptible in this world and immortal in the next, which can be developed by goodness, kindled, lit up, and made to radiate, and which evil can never entirely extinguish.”
~*~
“There is a determined though unseen bravery that defends itself foot by foot in the darkness against the fatal invasions of necessity and dishonesty. Noble and mysterious triumphs that no eye sees, and no fame rewards, and no flourish of triumph salutes. Life, misfortunes, isolation, abandonment, poverty, are battlefields that have their heroes; obscure heroes, sometimes greater than the illustrious heroes.”
I certainly needed to read and hear these words today.
My sincerest apologies to you dear readers who are faithfully checking in to see if I've updated yet, only to find out that....I haven't.
I am truly sorry for my prolonged absence from this social sphere. I'm afraid I must admit that I have not written, read, or stalked any blogs in a few weeks.
I logged onto my bloglovin' account a few days ago to find that I had THREE HUNDRED AND EIGHTY-SEVEN unread blog posts. Yes, 387!
I'm happy to know that even though I've been off in my own world, the blogosphere continues on.
I have had to take some time for myself. Satan is trying so very hard to get me down. He knows that my mission papers are being submitted next week, and like my post from a few weeks ago describes in exhaustive detail, I don't function well when I am down.
But I'm trying to live.
To enjoy life.
To make friends.
To strengthen my vitally important relationship with my Savior.
And to just make it through the semester.
I know I say this at least once a year, but it is absolutely safe to say that Heavenly Father reserved this particular trial for me at this particular time, and I am being stretched and pulled in more directions than I knew existed.
One of those directions is not finding the ability to get out of bed.
To be ABSOLUTELY unmotivated to get anything done until I have absolutely no time left.
To let the smallest discomforts discourage me from fulfilling basic daily tasks.
This is not me. And I'm determined to prove it.
I will finish writing these last 16 lines of my french composition.
I will get 5 hours of sleep.
And then I will wake up tomorrow ready for a new outlook on life, with the Savior by my side and the certainty of a bright future ahead if I am living the way I should be.
And I will know that though I am sad, I am NOT weak.
For the greater the ability I have to feel pain, the more infinite the capacity I have to one day feel true joy.
But this blog may not be a part of that for awhile.
But I hope it will be again in the very near future.
In the meantime, if there are any of you who are struggling through anything similar, please don't hesitate to tell me. I may be in my own personal little circle of hell at the moment, not knowing which way is up, but what I've said since the very beginning still stands: Even if I don't know who you are, I love you very much. And the Savior does too, and if you ever need an outlet, don't hesitate to get in contact with me.
This video is not about trial per se, but being reminded of the fundamentals of who I am and what my purpose is here in this life is always an immense help.
I also invite you to check out one of my best friend's blogs, Joy in the Journey, particularly her "Parable of the Teacup post." She is one of the strongest girls I have ever known, currently fighting one of the hardest personal battles I have ever learned of, and she is one. talented. writer.
Back soon, with a refreshed perspective on life and a calmer heart, and with all my love,
So I don't know about you, but for me watching debates and elections is almost more exciting and cutthroat than football. Especially in a presidential race this close. Call me crazy, but I really love politics, even when they disappoint me.
I won't go into some big political rant about how irresponsible and stupid Americans are for voting someone back into office who has already done so much damage, that's not what this blog is for.
I'll just leave it at that I was among those who became extremely disappointed in America last night, but...
I recognize that Americans, for the most part, exercised their right to vote, and therefore I will support the man that was elected into office for the next four years, with a prayer in my heart that he manages to turn things around.
That being said, I think everyone, regardless of either (or neither!) party you identify yourself with, could benefit from thinking about how far America has strayed from where we started. I know I sure learned a big lesson.
The opening scene of HBO's new series, "The Newsroom" says it best. One of my best friends Ashley posted it last night and it absolutely brought me to tears and got me really thinking. Don't be put off by the title of the video, but listen to the message. I know it's TV, but there is so much truth in his words. Greatest food for thought I've found in a long time.
All my love, B.
**NOTE: This SHOULD be the edited version of this video. Apologies to anyone who may have watched the heinous swearing in the version I put up first-got the wrong one, sorry!
Sorry for my recent absence, but not that sorry...
because I was spending time with one of the most fantastic ladies I know.
Let's take a trip down memory lane, shall we?
Epcot center, age 15
Front lawn, graduation day, age 17
NYC, age 18
Today Show, NYC, age 18
Bluebonnets, aka my favorite picture of all time, age....I don't know. Young. (apologies for the color quality of some of these...all were taken long before my photo editing days)
I'll be the first to admit that it took a very long time...MUCH much longer than it should have for the relationship between my mother and I to be where it is now.
I know that there will always be a few things here and there that we'll never agree upon, but as I've grown up I've come to realize something that I never let myself admit during my angsty, teenage years...
My mother is my greatest role model.
She gave up her entire life for her children, to raise them and love them the best way she knows how, and she's doing a top-notch job. I know that everything good that I am came from her, and when I have my own family, I'll be able to emulate all the things I love about her and add my own personal touches to how I will raise my children.
So, last weekend, I had the grand opportunity to to take her to some of my favorite places in Salt Lake, like eating at The Pie Pizzeria and taking her to see City Creek Center. The next morning we went down to Payson to visit the cute Red Barn, who grows their own produce and makes their own ice cream and sells cute gifts :)
On that note, behold: The ONLY surviving picture of her trip:
We're cute. I know.
Anyway, we ran lots of errands and finally, after working so hard and losing so much sleep, I let myself just get full on sick. And it felt great to have my mommy there to take care of me.
Sunday, we had church together and then invited all the cousins over to my grandparents' house for dinner and catching up.
I've said goodbye to my mother dozens of times since moving out, and I'm always kind of just like, "Ok, see you next time, bye!"
But this time....I cried. Oh, I cried so hard. It broke my heart right in half driving away from where I left her at my grandparents' house, knowing that she would be in the state another twelve hours before her flight and because of class and work I wouldn't be able to spend any more last minutes with her.
I cried when she hugged me goodbye and didn't want to let me go, and I didn't want to let go either.
I cried when she told me how proud she was of me and how far I've come and that she knew that eventually everything would be okay.
I cried when she took my hand, kissed it, set it on my cheek, and then leaned in to kiss my other cheek, just like she does to my baby brother.
I cried feeling like her baby again, especially after having pretended that I'm a grown-up for so long.
Good grief, I'm crying now thinking about it.
42 days.
Sometimes your mom really is the only person that can fix it.
