Wednesday, November 13, 2013
The Keeper of the Gate: Grandpa Jim
I would like to write about my Grandpa Jim. I think of him often. I remember how he smelt and how his whistling sounded in the morning while he drank his coffee listening to the radio. I remember the toothpick he would keep in his mouth and move back and forth from one side to the other. I remember loving mules because he loved them and laughing at his "mule farts smell like roses jokes." I remember sitting around a campfire in the dark listening to him strum his guitar and sing. I loved listening to him sing. I could listen for hours on end. I remember one time he sang "Amanda, light of my life..." Then there were the times we would go to the rodeos with him and I would think that none of those guys out there on the bulls or horses could hold a candle to my Grandpa. I remember when he gave my Grandma jewelry that he made her from old Indian beads. He always made sure to attend my basketball games and always had a smart remark about how I don't have a beat when dancing. I remember listening to he and my grandma playing at the Elks. We loved going to listen and dance with all the other old timers. I couldn't keep a beat then either, but we loved flirting with the old men! I remember watching my Grandpa's hands tap to the rhythm of the music as he listened to it and the way his voice would crack as he yodeled. I remember how his lips would curl around a corn cob. I remember when my grandpa came to our house to bury our dog after he was run over on the road and the tears in his eyes as he left. I remember my Grandpa riding up our driveway on his mule Billy Jo to take me on my first ride on my mare Tweet. I remember interviewing him about his life on several occasions. The one thing that has never left me from those conversations are his words, "Work hard enough it will be impossible for them to want to fire you. You will always have work." I remember watching the twinkle in his eye when he had guests over and was able to entertain them. I remember getting the phone call that he had been in an accident. I remember gathering with my family in the music room listening to him sing and play his guitar knowing that it would be the last time in this life that I would be able to dance to his songs. I remember getting the call that we needed to come home now. I remember walking in his house with all of our family around us and bending down in front of his face so he could see me. For a brief second I know he recognized me with a small twinkle in his eye. I remember my family gathered around his bed as he slipped away to heaven. I did not have sorrow from his death, maybe from anticipation of missing him, but not because his mortal life had come to a close. I remember listening to the "Keeper of the Gate" being sung by him at his funeral and knowing that our family will be an eternal family one day. My Grandpa was an amazing man and an admirable example of what hard work will earn you.
Sunday, November 3, 2013
I received a ring in the MTC...
Receiving mail as a missionary is one of the highlights of serving a mission! Especially when you have only been out for a couple weeks or months. The pangs of homesickness are still very raw and the realization of what being a true missionary is is still almost an imagination as you have still not really been able to be entirely become lost in the lives of your investigators and converts.
Imagine seeing a package in the mail from your boyfriend.... who you didn't really break it off with before you left but left it kind of open ended... sitting in the mail just two weeks in to your time as a missionary at the MTC. I received such package. I ripped it open hoping for candy or a little note or stickers or gum. I did not expect a ring.
The memories from a life time of three weeks before all came flooding back. James took me to the temple in Billings and then made a short stop at the LDS Bookstore just down the road. He said it was to just look around. Upon entering the store he walked directly over to the rings and asked me to choose a ring. Ha! I was hesitant. What did that mean. I played along with him and told him I did not want a cliche CTR ring but would choose something better. The sego lily ring. It was beautiful, bold and I had never seen anyone else where it! The caption under the ring read, "Just as the Sego Lily sustains life, sisters in Zion sustain life in their homes. They reflect purity, beauty, patience and strength." That was everything that I wanted to reflect and become. That ring was to be mine.
Fast forward to me standing in the MTC post office holding my ring. I had entirely forgotten that they did not have my size and that they were going to ship it to me in the MTC. Pangs of wanting to run home flooded through me. I missed James. I knew it was a good choice to be on my mission, but I didn't have the conviction that I shouldn't be at home marrying him either.
I knew that I had to be committed entirely one way or the other and that I would not be successful either way if I was always wishing I was somewhere else. The next day we were to go to the temple. I knew that this decision to stay or go home was a big one and that I needed to receive some serious answers. I began my fast immediately with faith that through fasting I would receive the answer that I needed to be able to fully commit either way.
As I sat in the temple, feeling very much at peace, deep in thought and prayer, I held my missionary plack in one hand and the ring in the other hand. Both good choices. Which was better? Then as I closed my eyes I remember hearing the words, "Have courage." A flood of peace came over me, almost tingly and light but penetrating. Have courage to follow the answer I knew I had already received while preparing to serve a mission earlier that summer. The scripture came to mind in Doctrine and Covenants 6.
22Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might aknow concerning the truth of these things.
I had already received my answer previously. I needed to remember to have courage to continue forward with faith that that was my answer and that I was to be a missionary at that time. I am grateful that I know with a surety that when I have problems, questions, seek peace and strength, I can turn to my Father in Heaven and He will answer my prayers and bless me with comfort and understanding.
Through out the rest of my mission, courage became a theme. Whenever I felt lost, scared, desperate, sad, worthless, weak, etc I would look back to that afternoon in the temple and remember, "Have courage."
Little did I know that as I came home and returned to my James, married him for all eternity and began a family how much courage I would need. I know that as I prayerfully make decisions and fast about those decisions, I will be led to what my family needs and that we will be protected and provided for. I will be blessed with the courage to be obedient, step out of my comfort zone and make a mark on this world.
Imagine seeing a package in the mail from your boyfriend.... who you didn't really break it off with before you left but left it kind of open ended... sitting in the mail just two weeks in to your time as a missionary at the MTC. I received such package. I ripped it open hoping for candy or a little note or stickers or gum. I did not expect a ring.
The memories from a life time of three weeks before all came flooding back. James took me to the temple in Billings and then made a short stop at the LDS Bookstore just down the road. He said it was to just look around. Upon entering the store he walked directly over to the rings and asked me to choose a ring. Ha! I was hesitant. What did that mean. I played along with him and told him I did not want a cliche CTR ring but would choose something better. The sego lily ring. It was beautiful, bold and I had never seen anyone else where it! The caption under the ring read, "Just as the Sego Lily sustains life, sisters in Zion sustain life in their homes. They reflect purity, beauty, patience and strength." That was everything that I wanted to reflect and become. That ring was to be mine.
Fast forward to me standing in the MTC post office holding my ring. I had entirely forgotten that they did not have my size and that they were going to ship it to me in the MTC. Pangs of wanting to run home flooded through me. I missed James. I knew it was a good choice to be on my mission, but I didn't have the conviction that I shouldn't be at home marrying him either.
I knew that I had to be committed entirely one way or the other and that I would not be successful either way if I was always wishing I was somewhere else. The next day we were to go to the temple. I knew that this decision to stay or go home was a big one and that I needed to receive some serious answers. I began my fast immediately with faith that through fasting I would receive the answer that I needed to be able to fully commit either way.
As I sat in the temple, feeling very much at peace, deep in thought and prayer, I held my missionary plack in one hand and the ring in the other hand. Both good choices. Which was better? Then as I closed my eyes I remember hearing the words, "Have courage." A flood of peace came over me, almost tingly and light but penetrating. Have courage to follow the answer I knew I had already received while preparing to serve a mission earlier that summer. The scripture came to mind in Doctrine and Covenants 6.
22Verily, verily, I say unto you, if you desire a further witness, cast your mind upon the night that you cried unto me in your heart, that you might aknow concerning the truth of these things.
23 Did I not speak apeace to your mind concerning the matter? What greater bwitness can you have than from God?
I had already received my answer previously. I needed to remember to have courage to continue forward with faith that that was my answer and that I was to be a missionary at that time. I am grateful that I know with a surety that when I have problems, questions, seek peace and strength, I can turn to my Father in Heaven and He will answer my prayers and bless me with comfort and understanding.
Through out the rest of my mission, courage became a theme. Whenever I felt lost, scared, desperate, sad, worthless, weak, etc I would look back to that afternoon in the temple and remember, "Have courage."
Little did I know that as I came home and returned to my James, married him for all eternity and began a family how much courage I would need. I know that as I prayerfully make decisions and fast about those decisions, I will be led to what my family needs and that we will be protected and provided for. I will be blessed with the courage to be obedient, step out of my comfort zone and make a mark on this world.
Friday, October 25, 2013
True Confessions of a 30 year old Network Marketer
This will be brutally honest. I have sat on my lawn mower most of the summer with occasional intermittent bouts of installing irrigation systems and landscaping. I have had a lot of time to think. Which is not common for a mom of three babies 4 years old and under. Did I mention that my average work day is between 10-13 hours long away from the house? I have had time to think, contemplate, listen, and discover a lot. I have written thousands of blogs through out the summer. Only a few have persevered in my memory til now. I suppose it will be those "blogs" that I will now share with my blog that I have abandoned until now.
I did title this one True Confessions of a 30 year old Network Marketer. It has taken me seven years of experimenting with network marketing to call myself that with pride. It takes every bit of courage that I have. I was raised in a network marketing home. One that meetings were the norm most weeks. A home that made up songs about the company that was currently being shared. (I to this day sing, "Melaleuca, Melaleuca, Melaleuca!" in a sing songy voice.) I experienced at a young age the awkwardness sometimes involved in the industry and the everlasting friendships made. Of course this was just what my young eyes saw through my parent's activities.
As I grew older, I learned that network marketing sometimes has a bad stigma associated with it. This stuck deep in my soul and had a conflicting battle with the good memories that I had growing up. Growing up a member of the LDS Church in an area primarily not LDS, I have always been "different" than my peers, family, neighbors, etc. I never cared. I loved that I knew without a doubt that I was in the right place and stood solid in my conviction of the truthfulness of what I believe. It did not bother me that others thought me strange, weird, peculiar, goodie goodie, or whatever they thought of me. But somehow with the network marketing it mattered to me what others thought.... and that bothered me.
James and I have been involved in 3 or 4 different companies since we have been married and deeply investigated several others. (We usually walked away knowing more about the companies than the person presenting to us.) I love the 2nd company we were in. It consisted of calling people I have never met and talking to them! I literally could care less about what they thought! It was great! Then it turned out that that company was a fraud. Yes, we were involved in a company that was not ethical, had zero morals and lied to us. Ha. I said never again. I will not do this again. Everyone was right, these are no good.
Two years ago, my mom, who is forever looking in to new and exciting gigs, health fads, pills, diets, etc., stumbled across this salt water drink. She did not back down when I laughed at her. Salt water? HA! Network marketing! HA! No way. I have too much to do to waste my time and money. Over the next couple months, she continuously "dripped" information on me. Stories of fish coming back alive after having this salt water rubbed on them, people going off of their inhalers, anti depressant medication no longer needed after a life time of dependency, chronic pain disappearing. So many stories, day after day, were being dripped onto me.
I like to be healthy. I like to be strong. I do not like to be sick or feel weak. James and I said we would try Asea. (James actually jumped at the chance. I was much more the skeptic and would not commit in anyway to sharing this with anyone. I would not "burden" anyone with this.)
That was October 2011. Over the next couple years we would quietly share it with our friends and maybe some others. James of course a lot more than me. I still really did not want anything to do with Network Marketing. I did not want to "burden" anyone. Nor did I really believe 100% that this was all it was cracked up to be. I knew that it had over 30 patents, that it affected the glutathione antioxidants by several hundred percent, that athletes who take it have increased speed and endurance and performance by 12%. I read the studies, watched the videos. I knew that it was not bad. I knew that I was not getting sick when friends around me were under the weather. I knew that when I actually worked out, I recovered a lot quicker. I knew that when I sprayed it on my bleeding nipples when breast feeding our new baby they almost healed in front of my eyes. (ok that was pretty huge and the honest truth.) I knew that I sprayed it on one leg after frying them in the sun and the leg I sprayed never pealed and healed much faster than the other which actually blistered. I knew that this "salt water" (Asea) works. I still did not want to burden anyone with it because of this idea that I had in my head about network marketing. I did not want my friends or even potential friends to run from me or become awkward because they had not looked at what we invited them to look at.
And then I spent all summer listening to books that James would download for us to listen to. Books authored by Jim Rohn, Eric Worre, Shapiro, etc. I listened inquisitively. After the third of fourth time listening to these books, I realized that Network Marketing is not a burden, not a scam, and was something entirely worth my effort to begin to live.
I believe that we should surround ourselves with what is positive, uplifting, good natured, honest, real. I realized that Network Marketing is becoming the best you you can be! Becoming more spiritually inclined, pushing yourself to limits you would never have gone. It is all about perfecting who you are, listening better, communicating better, serving better, loving more, being accountable for the well being of others. Network Marketing is about helping others who have a desire to become more, become more. Network Marketing is about setting goals, reaching goals and learning new ways to recommit to goals. Network marketing is about becoming a leader by helping them learn to lead.
This excites me. I feel that I am a driven person. Our philosophy in our marriage and life is that if we can help others, it will be passed along and somehow swing back around for us. This has worked without fail. What excites me more is that the Network Marketing company that James and I call ours is every bit of this and more. I can, (and have) looked into the eyes of the leaders and only see the concern for us reflecting back. This company has integrity. This company has morals. This company's main objective is to help and serve. I can align my personal goals right along side the goals of this company. UBUNTU!
Is the old Amanda lurking in the back ground taunting me not to share this with those who are desperately in need of the benefits Asea can bring to them? Yes. Does it take copious amounts of courage every time I open my mouth to share with someone about Asea? Yes. Do I bumble all my words together and talk too much and go cross eyed? Yes. But, that is the beauty of Asea. I am not left alone to figure this out. I have a team of partners that will even make calls with me on Valentine's Day during a night out so that I can reach my goals.
This is the confession of a 30 year old Network Marketer. I love Network Marketing. It has been a long road for me and I do not doubt that it will even longer. But as I learn to grow as a leader, I will grow as a Daughter of my Father in Heaven and reach even more of my potential.
On a side note, it is incredibly exhilarating to have finally put this "blog" down on paper. It has been months floating around in my head with little energy left to finally make it out on to paper until now. I could not hold it back and now I feel better. I may even be able to sleep! If anything more than to help me construct the reality of these ideas, I leave you with my confession and wish for you to find something that pushes you to reach more of your potential and polish the rough edges off of you daily.
I did title this one True Confessions of a 30 year old Network Marketer. It has taken me seven years of experimenting with network marketing to call myself that with pride. It takes every bit of courage that I have. I was raised in a network marketing home. One that meetings were the norm most weeks. A home that made up songs about the company that was currently being shared. (I to this day sing, "Melaleuca, Melaleuca, Melaleuca!" in a sing songy voice.) I experienced at a young age the awkwardness sometimes involved in the industry and the everlasting friendships made. Of course this was just what my young eyes saw through my parent's activities.
As I grew older, I learned that network marketing sometimes has a bad stigma associated with it. This stuck deep in my soul and had a conflicting battle with the good memories that I had growing up. Growing up a member of the LDS Church in an area primarily not LDS, I have always been "different" than my peers, family, neighbors, etc. I never cared. I loved that I knew without a doubt that I was in the right place and stood solid in my conviction of the truthfulness of what I believe. It did not bother me that others thought me strange, weird, peculiar, goodie goodie, or whatever they thought of me. But somehow with the network marketing it mattered to me what others thought.... and that bothered me.
James and I have been involved in 3 or 4 different companies since we have been married and deeply investigated several others. (We usually walked away knowing more about the companies than the person presenting to us.) I love the 2nd company we were in. It consisted of calling people I have never met and talking to them! I literally could care less about what they thought! It was great! Then it turned out that that company was a fraud. Yes, we were involved in a company that was not ethical, had zero morals and lied to us. Ha. I said never again. I will not do this again. Everyone was right, these are no good.
Two years ago, my mom, who is forever looking in to new and exciting gigs, health fads, pills, diets, etc., stumbled across this salt water drink. She did not back down when I laughed at her. Salt water? HA! Network marketing! HA! No way. I have too much to do to waste my time and money. Over the next couple months, she continuously "dripped" information on me. Stories of fish coming back alive after having this salt water rubbed on them, people going off of their inhalers, anti depressant medication no longer needed after a life time of dependency, chronic pain disappearing. So many stories, day after day, were being dripped onto me.
I like to be healthy. I like to be strong. I do not like to be sick or feel weak. James and I said we would try Asea. (James actually jumped at the chance. I was much more the skeptic and would not commit in anyway to sharing this with anyone. I would not "burden" anyone with this.)
That was October 2011. Over the next couple years we would quietly share it with our friends and maybe some others. James of course a lot more than me. I still really did not want anything to do with Network Marketing. I did not want to "burden" anyone. Nor did I really believe 100% that this was all it was cracked up to be. I knew that it had over 30 patents, that it affected the glutathione antioxidants by several hundred percent, that athletes who take it have increased speed and endurance and performance by 12%. I read the studies, watched the videos. I knew that it was not bad. I knew that I was not getting sick when friends around me were under the weather. I knew that when I actually worked out, I recovered a lot quicker. I knew that when I sprayed it on my bleeding nipples when breast feeding our new baby they almost healed in front of my eyes. (ok that was pretty huge and the honest truth.) I knew that I sprayed it on one leg after frying them in the sun and the leg I sprayed never pealed and healed much faster than the other which actually blistered. I knew that this "salt water" (Asea) works. I still did not want to burden anyone with it because of this idea that I had in my head about network marketing. I did not want my friends or even potential friends to run from me or become awkward because they had not looked at what we invited them to look at.
And then I spent all summer listening to books that James would download for us to listen to. Books authored by Jim Rohn, Eric Worre, Shapiro, etc. I listened inquisitively. After the third of fourth time listening to these books, I realized that Network Marketing is not a burden, not a scam, and was something entirely worth my effort to begin to live.
I believe that we should surround ourselves with what is positive, uplifting, good natured, honest, real. I realized that Network Marketing is becoming the best you you can be! Becoming more spiritually inclined, pushing yourself to limits you would never have gone. It is all about perfecting who you are, listening better, communicating better, serving better, loving more, being accountable for the well being of others. Network Marketing is about helping others who have a desire to become more, become more. Network Marketing is about setting goals, reaching goals and learning new ways to recommit to goals. Network marketing is about becoming a leader by helping them learn to lead.
This excites me. I feel that I am a driven person. Our philosophy in our marriage and life is that if we can help others, it will be passed along and somehow swing back around for us. This has worked without fail. What excites me more is that the Network Marketing company that James and I call ours is every bit of this and more. I can, (and have) looked into the eyes of the leaders and only see the concern for us reflecting back. This company has integrity. This company has morals. This company's main objective is to help and serve. I can align my personal goals right along side the goals of this company. UBUNTU!
Is the old Amanda lurking in the back ground taunting me not to share this with those who are desperately in need of the benefits Asea can bring to them? Yes. Does it take copious amounts of courage every time I open my mouth to share with someone about Asea? Yes. Do I bumble all my words together and talk too much and go cross eyed? Yes. But, that is the beauty of Asea. I am not left alone to figure this out. I have a team of partners that will even make calls with me on Valentine's Day during a night out so that I can reach my goals.
This is the confession of a 30 year old Network Marketer. I love Network Marketing. It has been a long road for me and I do not doubt that it will even longer. But as I learn to grow as a leader, I will grow as a Daughter of my Father in Heaven and reach even more of my potential.
On a side note, it is incredibly exhilarating to have finally put this "blog" down on paper. It has been months floating around in my head with little energy left to finally make it out on to paper until now. I could not hold it back and now I feel better. I may even be able to sleep! If anything more than to help me construct the reality of these ideas, I leave you with my confession and wish for you to find something that pushes you to reach more of your potential and polish the rough edges off of you daily.
Thursday, May 9, 2013
Screaming in to an empty room eating chocolate chips
Have you ever just screamed in to an empty room?
I have several times these past couple days. I always think that it will make it easier to relieve stress or be able to evict emotions, but I have found it usually doesn't help. Chocolate chips have a slight edge on screaming into the empty room.
It is times like these when I feel pressure from every direction to appease everyone's needs and requests and cannot humanly do it that I so easily forget that there are hidden miracles in everything. And so now as I sit here completely mentally and physically exhausted stifling my desire to scream into the dark room I am going to jot down a few of the hidden miracles that occurred today.
My kids were watched over and taken care of by an amazing friend today. They came home happy and and tremendously tired from playing and wanting to eat "chocolate sandwiches"... hahah
We have wonderful clients who are open and honest with us. We also have clients who have been waiting for us to do their landscaping for over a year. Finally finishing their project they are so excited to be able to plant their garden and perennials! It amazes me how we find such great people to work with!
Part of the stress is that everyone would like their projects done now. I keep fighting the urge to go hide under the bed when my phone rings because it is one more person needing a bit of work done! One man called today to request we fix his broken system. I expressed how far behind we are and I could not possibly take anyone one right a way and that he would have to wait several weeks. He agreed happily!
Honesty is the best. I cannot please everyone all at once. What takes priority is my family... my husband especially. He pays for the brunt of the crazy emotional waves of his crazy wife! He is the hidden miracle that every day I am more grateful for. He is constant and sure and strong... pretty good looking too!
I was told today by one of my throwers. You were a pretty alright referee. (That never happens!!)
Whew... I no longer feel like I need to scream. My head is no longer swimming with craziness. I feel like I can now slumber.
good night
I have several times these past couple days. I always think that it will make it easier to relieve stress or be able to evict emotions, but I have found it usually doesn't help. Chocolate chips have a slight edge on screaming into the empty room.
It is times like these when I feel pressure from every direction to appease everyone's needs and requests and cannot humanly do it that I so easily forget that there are hidden miracles in everything. And so now as I sit here completely mentally and physically exhausted stifling my desire to scream into the dark room I am going to jot down a few of the hidden miracles that occurred today.
My kids were watched over and taken care of by an amazing friend today. They came home happy and and tremendously tired from playing and wanting to eat "chocolate sandwiches"... hahah
We have wonderful clients who are open and honest with us. We also have clients who have been waiting for us to do their landscaping for over a year. Finally finishing their project they are so excited to be able to plant their garden and perennials! It amazes me how we find such great people to work with!
Part of the stress is that everyone would like their projects done now. I keep fighting the urge to go hide under the bed when my phone rings because it is one more person needing a bit of work done! One man called today to request we fix his broken system. I expressed how far behind we are and I could not possibly take anyone one right a way and that he would have to wait several weeks. He agreed happily!
Honesty is the best. I cannot please everyone all at once. What takes priority is my family... my husband especially. He pays for the brunt of the crazy emotional waves of his crazy wife! He is the hidden miracle that every day I am more grateful for. He is constant and sure and strong... pretty good looking too!
I was told today by one of my throwers. You were a pretty alright referee. (That never happens!!)
Whew... I no longer feel like I need to scream. My head is no longer swimming with craziness. I feel like I can now slumber.
good night
Wednesday, April 17, 2013
The Night I Did Everything Wrong
I was rocking it! I had made 6 lasagna dinners, gone to track practice and won the wall sit competition against the throwers, and come home to my mom and Annie and Jane and watched the Voice. Life was good.
I really wanted to finish up the enchiladas that I had started earlier and get that project checked off of the never ending list. So I let my Mom take care of Jane and I started warming up some coconut oil to saute the onions. Jane wasn't wanting Mom so I took a second to go grab her... and then began to change her diaper to help her quiet down.
A minute later Mom mentioned that she smelled something burning. I realized I had left the pan of oil heating on the stove. I jumped up, ran to the kitchen, turned the burner off and returned to the baby in the living room. Not a minute later, mom looked up and saw flickering on the hallway wall. "What is flashing/flickering in the kitchen?" As I looked through the little cubby hole in the wall separating the kitchen from the living room I saw flames emerging from the pan I had just turned off.
Baby in tow, I ran to the kitchen, saw that the flames were growing bigger, sat the baby down on the floor, grabbed the pan and sadly my first thought was "get the pot under water." As I was carrying the flaming pot towards the sink (Mind you there are long curtains that hang over our sink...) my mom comes in yelling "No, not water!!" Thank goodness for her. She scooped up Jane off the floor and all I could think about was how do I get this fire out making the least amount of mess! (Embarrassing to admit! I have a fire extinguisher right under the sink, two feet from where I was standing and in that instant I chose not to use it from not wanting to make a mess... What a freak!)
I decided the only way to handle the fire was get it out of the house. Within milliseconds I was rushing through our tiny kitchen, flaming pot in front, trying to not let the oxygen fueled flames spread. I squeezed through the hallway, mom yelling at me the whole time "you're on fire, you're on fire!" I reached the door. Of course, it was locked up for the night. Fumbling with the locks, the flames were growing bigger, burning oil was sloshing out of the pan on to the floor and coats as I tried opening the door. As I exited the house I had to pass the burning pot in between me and the door. Flames reached up past my head, reaching out and burning the fraying screen on the storm door. The second I was able to, I chucked the whole burning pot out the door and into our hedge surrounding our property. I ran back inside to see what other fires I had started on the way out and miraculously not a single one remained. I grabbed the fire extinguisher from underneath the sink and ran outside and soaked the pot with fire retardant.
Let's list the stupid things I did... (This is more to drive this into my "special" head not to EVER do again.)
1. Never leave anything unattended on the stove...especially OIL!!
2. When you see flames anywhere, don't worry about a potential mess that you could make putting it out. Go for the fire extinguisher.
3. Do not try to put an oil fire out with water. How many times has this been drilled into my head. When it really mattered, did I remember that ? Nope. Thank goodness my mom was here to straighten me out.
4. Never run through the house with a pot of oil on fire!
5. NEVER run through the house with a pot of OIL on FirE!!!! AAHH!
6. Do not chuck a flaming pot of oil at a dry hedge surrounding your property!
Now this was an incredibly stupid decision night for me. I am the first to recognize that I made very foolish decisions that could have made everything be 500 times worse. Our night could have turned out terribly different and terrible. I am choosing not to dwell on what could have happened, because eventually I am going to need to sleep tonight. However, despite all of my imperfect decisions, I feel like we were so blessed in spite of it all. I had my angels around me stomping out mini flames and putting flames guards around me and my family keeping us safe.
List of tender mercies:
1. My mom smelt the smoke before the fire alarm went off.
2. My mom saw the flickering on the wall.
3. My mom stopped me from putting water on the fire.
4. The lady came to pick up the pile of boxes I had stacked waiting for her in front of the door earlier today. Had she not come, I would not have been able to open the door enough to get out.
5. Every little fire oil ball that dropped was immediately extinguished. Yes, I do have melted carpet spots the size of quarters through out my hallway, but no other damage was done.
6. I did not receive one burn. Mom said it looked like the flames were up and down my torso.
7. The hedge did not catch on fire.
8, No one was hurt, everyone safe and we were watched out for and protected even in spite of my foolishness.
Life could be very different right now. All I can do is lay here and think of how grateful I am to my Father in Heaven for watching out for my family and home. My mom felt it very important that we say a prayer of thanks as we gathered ourselves together again. I am so grateful for these tender mercies. I am grateful for a mom who is able to pay attention to the small things to keep us safe (because I was sure bombing at the time). Most of all I am grateful for a Father in Heaven who knows that I will not make correct choices, but is still patient and sends angels to tamp out the flames I set.
I pray and beg the Lord every night that our family will be safe and that our home will be protected. I know that I will not be able to avoid all mishap or accident or disaster. But I do know that my prayers are heard and that He is mindful of me and my family.
President Packer said this in this past conference, "...There are few things more powerful than the faithful prayers of a righteous mother." This I know is true. It was evident tonight in answering my prayers as a young, inexperienced mom with the sole desire that my family just be safe and protected.
I really wanted to finish up the enchiladas that I had started earlier and get that project checked off of the never ending list. So I let my Mom take care of Jane and I started warming up some coconut oil to saute the onions. Jane wasn't wanting Mom so I took a second to go grab her... and then began to change her diaper to help her quiet down.
A minute later Mom mentioned that she smelled something burning. I realized I had left the pan of oil heating on the stove. I jumped up, ran to the kitchen, turned the burner off and returned to the baby in the living room. Not a minute later, mom looked up and saw flickering on the hallway wall. "What is flashing/flickering in the kitchen?" As I looked through the little cubby hole in the wall separating the kitchen from the living room I saw flames emerging from the pan I had just turned off.
Baby in tow, I ran to the kitchen, saw that the flames were growing bigger, sat the baby down on the floor, grabbed the pan and sadly my first thought was "get the pot under water." As I was carrying the flaming pot towards the sink (Mind you there are long curtains that hang over our sink...) my mom comes in yelling "No, not water!!" Thank goodness for her. She scooped up Jane off the floor and all I could think about was how do I get this fire out making the least amount of mess! (Embarrassing to admit! I have a fire extinguisher right under the sink, two feet from where I was standing and in that instant I chose not to use it from not wanting to make a mess... What a freak!)
I decided the only way to handle the fire was get it out of the house. Within milliseconds I was rushing through our tiny kitchen, flaming pot in front, trying to not let the oxygen fueled flames spread. I squeezed through the hallway, mom yelling at me the whole time "you're on fire, you're on fire!" I reached the door. Of course, it was locked up for the night. Fumbling with the locks, the flames were growing bigger, burning oil was sloshing out of the pan on to the floor and coats as I tried opening the door. As I exited the house I had to pass the burning pot in between me and the door. Flames reached up past my head, reaching out and burning the fraying screen on the storm door. The second I was able to, I chucked the whole burning pot out the door and into our hedge surrounding our property. I ran back inside to see what other fires I had started on the way out and miraculously not a single one remained. I grabbed the fire extinguisher from underneath the sink and ran outside and soaked the pot with fire retardant.
Let's list the stupid things I did... (This is more to drive this into my "special" head not to EVER do again.)
1. Never leave anything unattended on the stove...especially OIL!!
2. When you see flames anywhere, don't worry about a potential mess that you could make putting it out. Go for the fire extinguisher.
3. Do not try to put an oil fire out with water. How many times has this been drilled into my head. When it really mattered, did I remember that ? Nope. Thank goodness my mom was here to straighten me out.
4. Never run through the house with a pot of oil on fire!
5. NEVER run through the house with a pot of OIL on FirE!!!! AAHH!
6. Do not chuck a flaming pot of oil at a dry hedge surrounding your property!
Now this was an incredibly stupid decision night for me. I am the first to recognize that I made very foolish decisions that could have made everything be 500 times worse. Our night could have turned out terribly different and terrible. I am choosing not to dwell on what could have happened, because eventually I am going to need to sleep tonight. However, despite all of my imperfect decisions, I feel like we were so blessed in spite of it all. I had my angels around me stomping out mini flames and putting flames guards around me and my family keeping us safe.
List of tender mercies:
1. My mom smelt the smoke before the fire alarm went off.
2. My mom saw the flickering on the wall.
3. My mom stopped me from putting water on the fire.
4. The lady came to pick up the pile of boxes I had stacked waiting for her in front of the door earlier today. Had she not come, I would not have been able to open the door enough to get out.
5. Every little fire oil ball that dropped was immediately extinguished. Yes, I do have melted carpet spots the size of quarters through out my hallway, but no other damage was done.
6. I did not receive one burn. Mom said it looked like the flames were up and down my torso.
7. The hedge did not catch on fire.
8, No one was hurt, everyone safe and we were watched out for and protected even in spite of my foolishness.
Life could be very different right now. All I can do is lay here and think of how grateful I am to my Father in Heaven for watching out for my family and home. My mom felt it very important that we say a prayer of thanks as we gathered ourselves together again. I am so grateful for these tender mercies. I am grateful for a mom who is able to pay attention to the small things to keep us safe (because I was sure bombing at the time). Most of all I am grateful for a Father in Heaven who knows that I will not make correct choices, but is still patient and sends angels to tamp out the flames I set.
I pray and beg the Lord every night that our family will be safe and that our home will be protected. I know that I will not be able to avoid all mishap or accident or disaster. But I do know that my prayers are heard and that He is mindful of me and my family.
President Packer said this in this past conference, "...There are few things more powerful than the faithful prayers of a righteous mother." This I know is true. It was evident tonight in answering my prayers as a young, inexperienced mom with the sole desire that my family just be safe and protected.
Sunday, April 7, 2013
My Mom Ride
You've seen the commercial where the mom is riding in her mini van and all the guys keep waving at her? She thinks that they are checking her out, liking her "mom ride", or whatever else else they might think when you wave at someone. ... and then she finds out that they are all trying to get her attention because she left the diaper bag on top of the car?
Ha. I can relate! There I was sitting in my "mom ride" (Honda Pilot... not quite the "sophistication" of a mini van... :) ) at a stop light. As the on coming traffic came driving by everyone started waving, nodding their heads, smiling... WAY too friendly for 3pm Bozeman traffic... I may have thought to my self for a brief second... Ha look at that... they like my car... they think I am cool, complete strangers! hahahaha
And then I realize that directly behind me Hank has rolled down his window and was waving full force with a huge smile across his face at all of them. "Hey mom look! They are waving at me~!"
I may have felt a little like the gal on the commercial for brief second.
Ha. I can relate! There I was sitting in my "mom ride" (Honda Pilot... not quite the "sophistication" of a mini van... :) ) at a stop light. As the on coming traffic came driving by everyone started waving, nodding their heads, smiling... WAY too friendly for 3pm Bozeman traffic... I may have thought to my self for a brief second... Ha look at that... they like my car... they think I am cool, complete strangers! hahahaha
And then I realize that directly behind me Hank has rolled down his window and was waving full force with a huge smile across his face at all of them. "Hey mom look! They are waving at me~!"
I may have felt a little like the gal on the commercial for brief second.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
Kick your trash
I was accused yesterday of having mommy language. Funny story is, I think I talked like this before I was a mommy.
An athlete I have been coaching made a remark to me that he gets his ambition and drive in a certain sport from the desire of kicking his opponents @$$. But, when it comes to pushing himself to becoming better he is too lazy.
I was relaying this story to some fellow coaches last night and instead of saying, "kicking his @$$," I substituted "trash" for the "@$$." Ha. One coach looked at me and said, "Kick his "trash" ?" Yes, I said, Kick his opponents trash... and I went on to describe that he gets motivation for winning not by trying to better himself, but kick the others opponents trash.
He stared at me like I was speaking a different language. What? Kick their trash? Is that code for something? The other coach standing there with us jumped in, "no, what she means to say is kick his @$$. She can't say it because she speaks mommy talk." HAHAHA
I was so dumbfounded that my Mommy talk was not understood, but when "stronger" language was used it was understood entirely. I do know that I have been known to make up words and reformulate how words and phrases go together... but I thought that was pretty self descriptive.
I have always felt that the manner in which you speak reflects your integrity and is a window to the world from within yourself. Falling into "maintstream" swear words, dirty talk, foul language only demonstrates to me a lack of imagination, self control, and a lack of desire in self betterment. By no means do I fall into perfect in this category, because I also feel that any word or phrase said in a strong or vulgar tone can be offensive and have the same result. Conquering this habit is even more difficult than just merely cleaning up language. I am forever working on this even though my tally marks of "swear words" said in my entire life time can add up on one hand if that.
An athlete I have been coaching made a remark to me that he gets his ambition and drive in a certain sport from the desire of kicking his opponents @$$. But, when it comes to pushing himself to becoming better he is too lazy.
I was relaying this story to some fellow coaches last night and instead of saying, "kicking his @$$," I substituted "trash" for the "@$$." Ha. One coach looked at me and said, "Kick his "trash" ?" Yes, I said, Kick his opponents trash... and I went on to describe that he gets motivation for winning not by trying to better himself, but kick the others opponents trash.
He stared at me like I was speaking a different language. What? Kick their trash? Is that code for something? The other coach standing there with us jumped in, "no, what she means to say is kick his @$$. She can't say it because she speaks mommy talk." HAHAHA
I was so dumbfounded that my Mommy talk was not understood, but when "stronger" language was used it was understood entirely. I do know that I have been known to make up words and reformulate how words and phrases go together... but I thought that was pretty self descriptive.
I have always felt that the manner in which you speak reflects your integrity and is a window to the world from within yourself. Falling into "maintstream" swear words, dirty talk, foul language only demonstrates to me a lack of imagination, self control, and a lack of desire in self betterment. By no means do I fall into perfect in this category, because I also feel that any word or phrase said in a strong or vulgar tone can be offensive and have the same result. Conquering this habit is even more difficult than just merely cleaning up language. I am forever working on this even though my tally marks of "swear words" said in my entire life time can add up on one hand if that.
Friday, March 22, 2013
The Garbage Man
I have never met him. He hauls our trash away every Tuesday morning. Most times I forget to put it out on Monday night. Usually I get the trash put out around 8:30am... it is supposed to be set out be 6am. Our garbage man rocks. He will keep an eye out for our trash can as he goes about his route and will then empty it. We have even tempted fate and added more garbage after the first was dumped and he has come by to get the extra garbage. One day I will meet him and thank him. He is a tender mercy.
Saturday, March 16, 2013
Answers from sitting on a toilet
I am supposed to speak tomorrow in church during our sacrament meeting. I feel I cannot focus on anything until I have let this blog escape my brain. Please tell me this is a normal occurrence among people who write in a "blog."
A couple months ago I was having a rotten, emotional day where the kids were screaming, house was dirty, and I felt the weight of thinking I needed to fix everyone else's problems when in reality I just wanted someone to come up to me and say, "How are you doing today?" and then sit and wait for a response.
I had friends stop by through out the day. None of them noticed that I had tears almost welling up in my eyes as they sat there and told me how they were and their problems. Normally, this is very welcome and I enjoy the trust that my friends have in confiding with me. But, that day I needed to have someone listen to me.... Not even listen... Just ask how I was and mean it.
I remember standing in my kitchen, tears now streaming down my cheek and looking up as if I could see the heavens and say, "Can't someone just ask me how I am?" I then pushed it aside and continued about my daily duties doing everything.
It was not an hour later that I received a text message from a friend. "Hi, how are you doing?" it read. I stared at it for longer than I should have astounded. How did this friend know? She herself had a house full of kids, lots going on and was able to stop and wonder how I was? Wow. I sent back a quick message and didn't hear anything back for a day or so. Which did not matter. I knew that someone in that minute was wondering how I was doing.
I later met with this friend and told her the story of what had transpired. She sat there completely overwhelmed. Her side of the story follows.
She had been madly cleaning their home as they were preparing to move, had sick kids, and company visiting her. She escaped to the bathroom for a brief minute of solitude in the which she pulled out her phone and typed a long message to me... then deleted the majority of the message and simply wrote, "Hi, how are you doing?" Quickly finished her business in bathroom and promptly forgot about her phone busying herself with other duties.
We both knew that we were directly affected by an answer to my prayers. I needed to know at that moment that someone was thinking of me and wondering about me. She was living her crazy life in still a manner that she was able to head the prompting of the spirit to know that I did not need a long book written to me, but that a simple question would suffice.
I know that we are not alone. I am a daughter of a Heavenly Father who loves me and knows exactly what I need to be able to continue forward. I know that he works through other people to accomplish this task. I can only pray that I be used to help others when they are silently praying for an answer as my friend did that day.
Thursday, March 14, 2013
Gwen: herder of little ones
Has anyone ever taken 5 kids ages four and under to the doctor...with only one of them being sick? I have. It was not amusing. The parking lot was packed and had to park in the very far confines of hospital parking lots. Which of course made us even more late. Then just so happens all the kids took their shoes off right when we pulled in to the spot. And of course, it is like herding sheep trying to get them to go through a single door, let alone sit still in the waiting room.
Did I mention the looks I got from other moms? Priceless!
Turns out the sick one had strep which meant that we had to go the pharmacy to get drugs to make her better.
That was when we met her. Gwen. You know the overly friendly people that you do not know if they are special needs or if they are really just that nice? This was Gwen. I herded the troop into the pharmacy which has a little table, chairs and coloring books that the kids usually sit at for an entire two minutes.
A nice, young gal in her young 20s popped into the pharmacy wondering if anyone had a cell phone charger... nope. "Oh you have kids! Can I play with them?" Sure I say. Have at it!
She then sits with them and proceeds to play, laugh and converse with them in their simple language.
I go to check on the prescription. The doctors never sent it. It would be at least a half hour. Not good.
We decide to go wander around. Gwen jumps up. "I am going with you. You need help with all these kids!" We all head outside and she proceeds to play games with them and keep them entertained. I was left standing there, staring at her. Are you real? What complete stranger sees a stressed out, tired mom with too many kids at a doctor's office and just starts playing with them to keep them happy and be entirely involved and loving the attention they are giving her?
Gwen had to leave to make a phone call and we parted ways for the time being. As we wandered the halls and elevators of the hospital, the kids worried they would never see Gwen again. They were drawn to her.
After a few minutes we decided to head back and pray that the prescription was ready. Thank goodness it was sitting there waiting and we could hit the road. As we left the kid's eyes were searching for their special new friend. Annie looked up at me and said, "I really love Gwen. I need to tell her that."
Just outside the door and around the corner was our friend Gwen sitting on the bus stop bench. Annie and the other kids ran straight up to her, threw their arms around her and with all the love they could muster, "We love you Gwen!" She dropped down on her knees, tears filling her eyes. "Oh thank you kids! I love you too"
She then insisted on giving each kid a stamp, pencil, pad of paper, etc from her purse. After more hugs, we left and herded our way to the car.
Gwen was such person that I still to this day cannot interpret if she was an angel sent right at that time to help me out or if those kids were all right there as her angels to help her feel love. Either way. That meeting, that day was not a mistake and prayers were answered. She felt loved if even by a mob of toddlers and I felt that my Father in Heaven knew how badly I needed another set of hands to help herd. Tender Mercy.
Did I mention the looks I got from other moms? Priceless!
Turns out the sick one had strep which meant that we had to go the pharmacy to get drugs to make her better.
That was when we met her. Gwen. You know the overly friendly people that you do not know if they are special needs or if they are really just that nice? This was Gwen. I herded the troop into the pharmacy which has a little table, chairs and coloring books that the kids usually sit at for an entire two minutes.
A nice, young gal in her young 20s popped into the pharmacy wondering if anyone had a cell phone charger... nope. "Oh you have kids! Can I play with them?" Sure I say. Have at it!
She then sits with them and proceeds to play, laugh and converse with them in their simple language.
I go to check on the prescription. The doctors never sent it. It would be at least a half hour. Not good.
We decide to go wander around. Gwen jumps up. "I am going with you. You need help with all these kids!" We all head outside and she proceeds to play games with them and keep them entertained. I was left standing there, staring at her. Are you real? What complete stranger sees a stressed out, tired mom with too many kids at a doctor's office and just starts playing with them to keep them happy and be entirely involved and loving the attention they are giving her?
Gwen had to leave to make a phone call and we parted ways for the time being. As we wandered the halls and elevators of the hospital, the kids worried they would never see Gwen again. They were drawn to her.
After a few minutes we decided to head back and pray that the prescription was ready. Thank goodness it was sitting there waiting and we could hit the road. As we left the kid's eyes were searching for their special new friend. Annie looked up at me and said, "I really love Gwen. I need to tell her that."
Just outside the door and around the corner was our friend Gwen sitting on the bus stop bench. Annie and the other kids ran straight up to her, threw their arms around her and with all the love they could muster, "We love you Gwen!" She dropped down on her knees, tears filling her eyes. "Oh thank you kids! I love you too"
She then insisted on giving each kid a stamp, pencil, pad of paper, etc from her purse. After more hugs, we left and herded our way to the car.
Gwen was such person that I still to this day cannot interpret if she was an angel sent right at that time to help me out or if those kids were all right there as her angels to help her feel love. Either way. That meeting, that day was not a mistake and prayers were answered. She felt loved if even by a mob of toddlers and I felt that my Father in Heaven knew how badly I needed another set of hands to help herd. Tender Mercy.
Monday, March 11, 2013
Just trying to look romantic...
I have a slight problem. A conversation today reminded me of this problem. I don't like to be told that I can't do something. Especially being compared to someone else who might be able to do that something.
Which brought back a memory that I love.
We hired cheap photographers. Never do that for your wedding.
As we were taking pictures outside the temple, we made awkward poses trying to look romantic. Ha, must have been a sight! The photographer suggested that James pick me up and swing me around making my dress swing out. It turned out pretty nice and was fun... Stopping to gain our footing, I joked that I should now swing James around me. The photographer said something implying that I could not/should not do that.
Done. It was immediately decided that James stand on the little table to get ready for lift off. I wrapped my arms around him and in my little white heels in the green grass and beautiful dress I swung my cowboy around.
The photographer did not know what to say or do.
I can do whatever I put my mind to. :)
(Big thanks to Cami Joy Photography for fixing our pictures!!)
Now for a contradiction in my problem.
I have never taken a drink of alcohol. Never. Not even once. Not even a sip.
Have I been invited to? Yes. Have I been begged? Yes. Have I been taunted? Yes
I was asked today from one of our clients who thought I was wonderfully absurd, "You never even tried it? It wasn't like the forbidden apple that you just wanted to eat because others said you cannot?"
I have never had the slightest desire to try it or for that matter to ever get "drunk" or "happy" or "relax" or whatever other reason there is. Weird, probably. Maybe this does not contradict my problem. It could just be that everyone expects me to have tried alcohol before and I choose to not follow the crowd... hmmm.
I am blessed to be married to another weirdo also. He has never taken a drink either. Peculiar people eh?
Friday, March 8, 2013
She dreamed me before she met me.
I have another blog that has been wanting to materialize for quite some time now also...
It is of a little Peruvian woman opening the door to a set of sister missionaries, one a native Peruvian, the other, a tall, blonde American. We had never met before but when her eyes met mine her jaw dropped. I was brand new out in the field, debating my decision of being there and not understanding anything at all. She tried explaining that she knew me. I tried explaining we had never met. She insisted that we had met. As the conversation unfolded I came to understand that she had a dream with me in it the night before. She dreamed that I was running as fast as I could. Up hills, down hills, up hills, down hills, mountains, valleys...
I have reflected a lot on her dream. The thought that she had dreamed of me before we met. Interesting. Preexistence? I may have to wait to find out why this transpired. But the message in the dream... I have had a wonderful life. I am very blessed. It has been a lot of up hill and downhill. Some days are as tough as sprinting up the side of a mountain and others are as slippery as sliding down.
Each stage in my life since than, however different, a common theme has been prevalent. I keep running. Keep moving. I believe that a still person cannot be inspired to go in the direction that they are needed to go. They must move.
At the time I took that as answer to keep going. Stick it out on the mission, no matter the hills or the valleys needed to climb. Keep going.
I now picture my life. Mom of three great kids, wife to a hard working husband, owner of a landscaping business, working with a biotech company, referee, aspiring chef (haha!), and whatever else I decide to be. I know that if I keep moving, improving myself and keeping my eye towards the over all goal of having my eternal family, I will be lead in the direction I need to go.
It is of a little Peruvian woman opening the door to a set of sister missionaries, one a native Peruvian, the other, a tall, blonde American. We had never met before but when her eyes met mine her jaw dropped. I was brand new out in the field, debating my decision of being there and not understanding anything at all. She tried explaining that she knew me. I tried explaining we had never met. She insisted that we had met. As the conversation unfolded I came to understand that she had a dream with me in it the night before. She dreamed that I was running as fast as I could. Up hills, down hills, up hills, down hills, mountains, valleys...
I have reflected a lot on her dream. The thought that she had dreamed of me before we met. Interesting. Preexistence? I may have to wait to find out why this transpired. But the message in the dream... I have had a wonderful life. I am very blessed. It has been a lot of up hill and downhill. Some days are as tough as sprinting up the side of a mountain and others are as slippery as sliding down.
Each stage in my life since than, however different, a common theme has been prevalent. I keep running. Keep moving. I believe that a still person cannot be inspired to go in the direction that they are needed to go. They must move.
At the time I took that as answer to keep going. Stick it out on the mission, no matter the hills or the valleys needed to climb. Keep going.
I now picture my life. Mom of three great kids, wife to a hard working husband, owner of a landscaping business, working with a biotech company, referee, aspiring chef (haha!), and whatever else I decide to be. I know that if I keep moving, improving myself and keeping my eye towards the over all goal of having my eternal family, I will be lead in the direction I need to go.
Futuremissionary@.....
I have been doing a lot of reflecting lately and many blog posts have been created in the offices of my brain and then never processed. I am feeling a bit backed up (It has been only a year since my last post...) One thing on my mind and has been for a very long time. Years to be exact, is a certain family that I do not think knows made such an impact in my life. I even made a special trip to visit them in their home and all the kids came to visit. I chickened out and did not tell them what their example did for me at that time in my life.
I remember a friend who went to Seminary with me. His mom was the teacher of our little Seminary group and every morning we sat on the little couch in their home or at the church and tried to stay awake and learn from the scriptures. I honestly do not remember much from what was taught. (She was a great teacher, I was just a distracted, tired teenage girl.) I do remember recognizing the importance of the gospel and the scriptures. I saw the difference that scripture study brought to my life and the lives of those who chose to or chose not to study.
This friend had an email address which was futuremissionary@...... I remembered being taken back by the boldness in that statement. I am a future missionary. That said a lot. It meant he knew that the church was true and was prepared to defend it and invite others to learn also. That scared me at the time.
This family moved away the next year and we lost contact but for brief exchanges every once in a while. The email address stuck forever with me. The more it sank in the more I had a desire to be a future missionary, to serve with all my time, heart and being. To help others find the happiness that I knew to be true and to learn of eternal families. It became so ingrained in me that it surprised me when it didn't make sense that I leave for a mission. I had a great boyfriend, a track scholarship, going to school, best shape of my life and yet I knew that I was a future missionary and that I had a work to do.
Thank you to the friend and his family for the examples that they showed to me. I will be forever in debt. The lovely people of Peru will be in debt. My family will ever be in debt to you for the small act that changed me.
I remember a friend who went to Seminary with me. His mom was the teacher of our little Seminary group and every morning we sat on the little couch in their home or at the church and tried to stay awake and learn from the scriptures. I honestly do not remember much from what was taught. (She was a great teacher, I was just a distracted, tired teenage girl.) I do remember recognizing the importance of the gospel and the scriptures. I saw the difference that scripture study brought to my life and the lives of those who chose to or chose not to study.
This friend had an email address which was futuremissionary@...... I remembered being taken back by the boldness in that statement. I am a future missionary. That said a lot. It meant he knew that the church was true and was prepared to defend it and invite others to learn also. That scared me at the time.
This family moved away the next year and we lost contact but for brief exchanges every once in a while. The email address stuck forever with me. The more it sank in the more I had a desire to be a future missionary, to serve with all my time, heart and being. To help others find the happiness that I knew to be true and to learn of eternal families. It became so ingrained in me that it surprised me when it didn't make sense that I leave for a mission. I had a great boyfriend, a track scholarship, going to school, best shape of my life and yet I knew that I was a future missionary and that I had a work to do.
Thank you to the friend and his family for the examples that they showed to me. I will be forever in debt. The lovely people of Peru will be in debt. My family will ever be in debt to you for the small act that changed me.
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