When I originally started this blog, I wanted it to focus on love. I wanted it to be a way for me to express gratitude for love, to acknowledge the power of love, through the evidences I’ve witnessed in my life. At some times more than others, my posts have lived up to that goal. But, I think as I have explained in a previous post, I realized that every time I write, there is some evidence of love. Whether I’m sharing a new recipe, telling a funny story (or at least one that I find funny), or even speaking ever-so-vaguely about a trial I am enduring, there is something to be said for love in there. With the recipes and funny stories, I am able to recognize that my Father in Heaven has blessed me with so many things, not excluding nourishment, chocolate, and even small but significant reasons to smile. And He does so because He loves me! With the trials and hardships, I’m usually able, by the end of my writing, to recognize that God is in control and that He guides me through the rough time I’m having. And He does so because He loves me! I’ve written about strange dreams, high school memories, emotional freak-outs, my silly little quirks, weddings, scary dentist appointments, family, friends, finding my place in life. Heck, I've even blogged in my sleep. And I am able to write all of these things why? Because Heavenly Father loves me. He gave me my life, my body, my spirit, this gospel. He has given me countless things and people to love, and the means whereby I can feel and express that love. Through my writing this blog, as well as through other means, I know that Love is manifest in all things, and all things testify of Christ—of His and our Father’s perfect love.

Like a week that's only Mondays. Only ice cream, never sundaes.

My brain pulled a no-no this evening while I was feeling down in the dumps. I had just watched The Wiz with my roommates, and the Tin Man's line "Nobody home in soulville" started turning my brain.

"Maybe," said my brain, "life would be better if there were no one home in soulville, if we were to live without love. Because then you wouldn't know what you were missing out on when you love people who don't seem to love you back or to love you as much as you love them."

It actually sounded pretty good at the time. But don't worry, keep reading, this story has a happy ending.

See, I love Love too much to be able to keep thinking this could be a good pattern for life. Love itself makes me very happy. Love is so inherently good that it could never really cause problems.

Okay, so you say it's not Love, but Unreciprocated Love that causes pain and heartache. Well for me, the most painful thing is not what others have or have not done in response to my loving them, but rather, the lies that Satan has fed to me about the reasons why they may not have returned the favor.

"Sure, maybe you're pretty to you, but other people might not think so."

"Sure, you're a pretty good person, but you're not good enough. You don't serve enough. You're not nice enough. You're not smart enough. You're not cute enough. You're not witty enough. You don't know enough about sports." (Yes, he's thrown that one at me, as ridiculous as it sounds. He threw it at me, and I couldn't, or didn't, dodge it. And it hurt!)

But that's the dirty dirty game he plays. He trash-talks like crazy, telling you that you can't win. He throws everything negative at you and drowns you in it. He doesn't give the positive any room to breathe. It's like when you jump too far into the Ball Crawl or a foam pit and it takes you a really long time to get out because you kind of just go straight to the bottom. Or maybe it's like when you're really drowning, but that's just too morbid.

Anyway, he drowns/suffocates/blinds/does other bad things to you with everything negative so it seems like you are stuck in an impossible situation, like everything in the world is going against you and your only defenses are the tears in your eyes and that Dove chocolate bar. And sometimes not even that chocolate bar.

I guess it is times like these when I need to remember that I do have a greater defense. The greatest tool, in fact, for kicking Satan out of my life.

What is it, you ask?
Well, Love, of course!

["Why didn't you list that among our assets in the first place?"]

See, just off the top of my head and maybe a little off the back of it, I could name over 100 people that love me. At least, I'm just assuming that all my first cousins love me. Maybe that's a stretch, but throw in the distant relatives, aunts, uncles, grandparents, siblings, parents, and my good friends, and we've certainly got at least that first 100 covered. And most importantly, I've got the love of the Greatest of All. My Father in Heaven and His Son, Jesus Christ, love me.

How could I have thought for one second that life could be good without that Love, or without the knowledge of that Love? So, Satan, consider yourself banished. I don't want to put up with your junk anymore! Maybe I'll even file for a restraining order.

In all seriousness, though, I am so grateful to know of the perfect Love that the Father has for me. I know that I have been blessed with the ability to love, and however imperfectly I may do so, I am going to try my hardest to always love. And to never forget or question again just how sacred the gift of Love truly is. I love Love!

Sometimes life would just be tons better if the mailbox weren't empty all the time.

That's all.

Row B Seat 13

Here I am, at the airport! I am so excited to go home.

Here are my plans:

1. play
2. burn all the old home videos to DVD
3. play
4. record a song or two with my seestor
5. read at least one act in Macbeth. That's right, homework. Blech.
6. spend time with bessfrinn Kaitlin and her chipmunk cheeks
7. eat at Bojangles
8. play
9. second Christmas with my family
10. play

I think it is going to be a good weekend. No, scratch that, FANTASTIC.

In other news, I have been accepted to study English Language in Britain this summer term. 7 weeks in the British Isles, 4 of which will be mostly in London, with a few days in Wales, Scotland and Ireland every now and again and even a weekend in Paris. I will be taking Varieties of English, History of the English Language, and possibly something else. Who knows? I am excited.

But right now, I'm more excited for North Carolina. It has been over 1 year since I have watched Tarheel basketball with my family, and that is sad. This trip is really going to recharge my batteries. I am so happy!

My Christmas testimony

So here it is, the post where I finally talk about how I spent Christmas break.

Long story short, plane tickets were outrageously expensive, so I stayed here. I had no roommates at home, but there were a couple of people from the ward who I hung out with pretty much every night, and then I stayed with Bradalie on Christmas Eve, Christmas Day, and Boxing Day. Besides the part where the spices or peppers or something in the roast made me sick (Vomiting and awful stomach cramps the way I get when I eat jalapeños . . . It's a really sad food allergy to have since I like spicy food so much.), I had a really good time. I worked a lot the week after Christmas, and one by one the roommates returned. Now we're all back and getting back into the school routine.

The interesting thing about my break, though, is that several weeks before, I had been dreading it. Completely. Everything about the thought of staying here and not being with my parents and all of my siblings just sounded awful to me. Especially since I haven't been home since Christmas 2008, I absolutely hated to even think about what it would be like. I even found myself thinking that I would prefer for school to keep going.

A lot of people may not have known how scared I was, since I put on my brave face whenever I talked about it. It happened countless times. Someone would ask when I'd be finishing finals and going home, I'd casually mention that I was staying here, and instantly there was this look of . . . what was it? Shock? Pity? Something else? A combination, probably. Some of my friends looked downright horrified. And most people didn't always know what to say after that. So to ease their discomfort and to make sure no one worried about me too much I quickly spurted out my plans for staying with my brother and sister-in-law, working a lot, making sure I stayed busy, etc. You know, I brushed it aside, just laughed it off like it was no big deal.

Well the truth is that it kind of was a big deal for me. This was the first Christmas I've ever spent away from home, and I am still a big baby I guess. And I'm willing to admit it. I put on my brave face for everyone else, but just a short phone conversation with my baby brother or my sister or my parents usually concluded in tears because I missed them so much. I thought I was doomed to misery in longing for home the entire break. I thought Christmas would be depressing. Admittedly it was somewhat easier knowing that I would be making a quick trip home in just a couple of weeks (I'm going home the 14th through the 18th! I can't wait.), but I still wasn't expecting to be so completely happy.

See, funnily enough, I think this turned out to be one of the best Christmases I've ever had.

Christmas Eve, I went to Bradalie's place (that's Brad & Natalie's celebrity name, for those of you who haven't figured that out) and had the dinner that I still think was very nice despite the sickness that would later ensue, played a bunch of games that I lost, and watched movies and wrapped presents until 1 in the morning. We woke up, dilly-dallied, watched my family open presents via gmail video chat (which was probably the highlight of my day. I loved it so much!) and then opened ours.

Now, I don't know if it was the magic in sharing Brad & Natalie's first Christmas together with them, knowing that I'd be home in a couple of weeks, the technology that let me see my family, or the Play-Doh Jazlyn gave me, but I just could not help but be happy that day.

Truthfully though, I can tell you exactly what it was. I was happy because I felt my Savior's love and the comfort of knowing that He was looking out for my family and me. Perhaps I had reason enough to feel sorry for myself or be sad or homesick or whatever, but that didn't seem to matter so much when I remembered that I can never actually be alone. He was born so that He could take upon Himself our sorrows and heartaches. He knows exactly how I felt when I realized that going home at Christmas wasn't an option. He knows how badly I wanted to cry when I heard my siblings' fun plans for the break and knew I couldn't be a part of them.

But you know what else He knows? This is my favorite thing. He also shares in our joys and triumphs. He was just as happy as I was (maybe even happier?) when I found out I'd be coming home for a weekend this month. And when I was sitting on Bradalie's couch watching my family open their presents, He felt the same happiness and love that I felt. I know that is true. I know He lives. I know He loves me. And I know that He, more than anything or anyone else we could ever encounter in this world, is the purest source of light, of love, of true joy. He is my loving older brother, and the way through which I can return and live with our Father in Heaven. I know my Savior lives, and I love Him. I know that He is the reason I can be happy every day. Even when there are plenty of excuses to be sad, there will never be a real reason for sadness as long as I still know this. So I am grateful to Jesus the Christ, my Lord and Savior, for being with me, for lifting and comforting me, in this time (and countless others) when I could not find it in myself to be happy on my own. So, though it is written a little bit late, Merry Christmas!