A few things I'm looking forward to in 2012:
Moving back to North Carolina
Kissing a man
Making new friends
Having fun with current friends
Getting to know God a lot better
Learning more about myself
Learning more about my friends
Learning more about my career path
Learning more . . . about everything, I guess.
Being more prudent about how I spend my time, money, and love
Thursday, January 26, 2012
Happy New Year Part 1: Looking back
Though this year's brand-newness has started to wear off a little bit, I hope you'll still accept this as my "Happy New Year" post. I've had trouble organizing my thoughts for various reasons, so I kinda lost the blogging groove for a while. However, the coming of a new year always provides mental ammunition and a desire to improve, so let me fire out some of my thoughts on the past year and the one coming up.
I think a decent summary of my thoughts on the old year can be offered through a recap of the events surrounding my BYU graduation.
Last April, after a whirlwind decision to change my career path, I officially graduated with a B.A. in Linguistics. I was all sorts of happy and excited about it--though I was completely unsure what it was going to be like to not have school in my life--and I was proud of my accomplishments and all that jazz.
At this point, things were working out great. I had gotten approval to work a little longer at my job on campus, I had a new job lined up for a month and a half down the road, and I just felt this overwhelming sense of direction, peace, and purpose in life.
There was just one problem: my parents couldn't come to graduation. Things were especially difficult during that time financially (and physically for my dad), and it just wasn't a trip they could afford to make. Because I'm an adult, I tried really hard to be understanding and mature about it. I didn't let myself get sad over it, because what good would that have done? Every time Mama brought it up to apologize, I cut her off. Every time Daddy told me he was going to find a way to send Mama out here, I fussed at him for trying to spend money they didn't have. I did everything in my power to convince them (and myself) that I would be okay without having them here.
When my roommates got excited about their parents coming into town, I was a little jealous, but still pretty happy. My parents' absence didn't change the fact that I was loved, I finished finals confidently and with good grades, and that I was on my way to the next chapter of my life. But the shock finally came when graduation day rolled around and my parents didn't show up on my doorstep. Deep down in my heart, I guess I kind of hoped we'd get some sort of miracle that would have made them able to come. I had some sort of . . . dream (I don't know if that's the right word, but whatever) that they would come through at the last minute and surprise me on the big day. So much for my being a mature adult, huh?
My emotions really pulled a number on me then. I was taking forever to get ready, and before I knew it, Maddie's parents were at the apartment to pick us up. It was time to go and I still had to brush my teeth, finish zipping up my dress, put my shoes on, and who knows what else. I remember rushing to get ready and just being in kind of a daze from focusing so hard on not crying that I was trembling and scatterbrained. When I went to brush my teeth, I knocked over my makeup bag, sending all its contents to various parts of the bathroom. I thought about following my eyeshadow palette right into the toilet and just skipping all the graduation festivities.
That's when Maddie's mom knocked on my door, came into my room, and just gave me a huge hug. I finally let myself be sad and really feel the fact that I missed my parents. I cried and cried and cried. I'm pretty sure I probably got some snot on Lindsey's dress, too. Then she asked, "Is it okay if we pretend to be your parents for a while?" and offered to adopt me for a few days.
Between the Dixons, the Coxes, and about a million phone calls from my family members (my phone bill was almost twice its usual amount that month), I felt so incredibly loved and taken care of that weekend. While I missed having my family to celebrate with me, I still got to celebrate with family--with two families, full of people that I love and who were so kind, caring, and generous that they treated me as if I were one of their own.
Because of this experience and so many others that I had last year, I've thought a lot about compensation, and about how the Lord makes up for the trials and heartaches we experience by giving us blessings beyond measure.
In his October 2008 talk Come What May and Love It, Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin teaches the principle of compensation beautifully:
I think a decent summary of my thoughts on the old year can be offered through a recap of the events surrounding my BYU graduation.
Last April, after a whirlwind decision to change my career path, I officially graduated with a B.A. in Linguistics. I was all sorts of happy and excited about it--though I was completely unsure what it was going to be like to not have school in my life--and I was proud of my accomplishments and all that jazz.
At this point, things were working out great. I had gotten approval to work a little longer at my job on campus, I had a new job lined up for a month and a half down the road, and I just felt this overwhelming sense of direction, peace, and purpose in life.
There was just one problem: my parents couldn't come to graduation. Things were especially difficult during that time financially (and physically for my dad), and it just wasn't a trip they could afford to make. Because I'm an adult, I tried really hard to be understanding and mature about it. I didn't let myself get sad over it, because what good would that have done? Every time Mama brought it up to apologize, I cut her off. Every time Daddy told me he was going to find a way to send Mama out here, I fussed at him for trying to spend money they didn't have. I did everything in my power to convince them (and myself) that I would be okay without having them here.
When my roommates got excited about their parents coming into town, I was a little jealous, but still pretty happy. My parents' absence didn't change the fact that I was loved, I finished finals confidently and with good grades, and that I was on my way to the next chapter of my life. But the shock finally came when graduation day rolled around and my parents didn't show up on my doorstep. Deep down in my heart, I guess I kind of hoped we'd get some sort of miracle that would have made them able to come. I had some sort of . . . dream (I don't know if that's the right word, but whatever) that they would come through at the last minute and surprise me on the big day. So much for my being a mature adult, huh?
My emotions really pulled a number on me then. I was taking forever to get ready, and before I knew it, Maddie's parents were at the apartment to pick us up. It was time to go and I still had to brush my teeth, finish zipping up my dress, put my shoes on, and who knows what else. I remember rushing to get ready and just being in kind of a daze from focusing so hard on not crying that I was trembling and scatterbrained. When I went to brush my teeth, I knocked over my makeup bag, sending all its contents to various parts of the bathroom. I thought about following my eyeshadow palette right into the toilet and just skipping all the graduation festivities.
That's when Maddie's mom knocked on my door, came into my room, and just gave me a huge hug. I finally let myself be sad and really feel the fact that I missed my parents. I cried and cried and cried. I'm pretty sure I probably got some snot on Lindsey's dress, too. Then she asked, "Is it okay if we pretend to be your parents for a while?" and offered to adopt me for a few days.
Between the Dixons, the Coxes, and about a million phone calls from my family members (my phone bill was almost twice its usual amount that month), I felt so incredibly loved and taken care of that weekend. While I missed having my family to celebrate with me, I still got to celebrate with family--with two families, full of people that I love and who were so kind, caring, and generous that they treated me as if I were one of their own.
Because of this experience and so many others that I had last year, I've thought a lot about compensation, and about how the Lord makes up for the trials and heartaches we experience by giving us blessings beyond measure.
In his October 2008 talk Come What May and Love It, Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin teaches the principle of compensation beautifully:
"The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude."
Every tear will be returned with tears of rejoicing and gratitude. I love that! This means that every loss we experience--of friendship, hope, courage, strength, knowledge, and even the lives of loved ones--will be made up to us, and we can experience true joy in that restoration.
Looking back on the past year, I could go on forever listing the blessings I received, and yet my memory contains so few details of any sacrifices I may have made or losses I may have experienced to merit such compensation. That is a testimony to me that the scales of heaven are balanced in our favor, so that--as long as we love God, have faith in Him, and do His will--no loss is permanent or endured in vain.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
Christmas
I don't feel like typing a lot of words, so here are some pictures chronicling some of my Christmas break adventures. I love North Carolina, I love my family, and I love my Savior and all He has done (and still does) to help me have such a grand life.
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| The highlight of my Christmas break? Finally meeting this sweet girl. |
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| I'm just delighted that she doesn't hate me! |
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| The beautiful giant cupcake Jayne made to celebrate Penny's birthday. |
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| New Year's Day 2012 was one for the books--Perfect weather, perfect company, and perfect location. (This was my first time going to a North Carolina beach.) |
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| Another highlight of Christmas break--spending time with this sweet man. |
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| I don't know why I love this picture so much. I just think it's great. |
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| Kyle and me. Sure do love my brother! |
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| In the words of Esqueleto, I am "ready to go pro." |
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| We tried so hard to get all of us in the air at the same time. Just didn't happen. |
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| Oh, the fury. |
Thursday, December 1, 2011
"In ten years, he's never said to me, 'Nice muumuu,' or nothin'."
You've heard of bad hair days, right? I know I've had my fair share of them. My hair has actually been pretty well-behaved lately, but I think it gave my pants a few tips on how to make my brain feel as scattered as a dandelion in front of an oscillating electric fan set on high in the mornings.
There are plenty of days (usually the few days right after laundry day) when my pants fit me pretty well. They stay on my body, they look fairly flattering, and I feel comfortable in them. Those are the grand mornings when I can roll out of bed, throw on any clothing I own--matching or not--and get out the door on time, feeling great.
There are also plenty of days--once my pants have been worn once or twice--when they don't quite fit like I want them to, but I still feel okay about the way I look in them.
And every now and again, I have days when my pants go on strike and refuse to fit my butt. Like, they decide to fall off of it instead of staying where they should. (Disclaimer: There are also some days when my clothes have the opposite butt-problem, but we don't like to talk about those days. Plus that hasn't happened for a while so we're pretending like it's not an issue.) Now, I suppose I could just go on strike and refuse to wear pants, but that means I'd either have to wear shorts, a dress, or nothing to cover my butt. It's getting too chilly for shorts and dresses, and I'd never get out the door if half-nakedness were the only option.
Now, I tell you all of this so you understand what I mean when I tell you that today was a really bad pants-strike day. This morning, I tried on almost every pair of pants I own to try and find some that didn't have a saggy bottom, but to no avail. I tried the dress route, but even the dresses hated me today. It got frustrating enough that at one point I found myself thinking that I wish I lived in Florida so I could go raid grandma's closet, because even one of her muumuu would look better on me than my clothes were looking.
I finally put on the least-saggy pair of jeans I could find and went on to have a sufficiently good day. But man, oh, man, I sure did scare myself with the muumuu wish. I guess it's time to do laundry and/or whip out my sewing machine!
There are plenty of days (usually the few days right after laundry day) when my pants fit me pretty well. They stay on my body, they look fairly flattering, and I feel comfortable in them. Those are the grand mornings when I can roll out of bed, throw on any clothing I own--matching or not--and get out the door on time, feeling great.
There are also plenty of days--once my pants have been worn once or twice--when they don't quite fit like I want them to, but I still feel okay about the way I look in them.
And every now and again, I have days when my pants go on strike and refuse to fit my butt. Like, they decide to fall off of it instead of staying where they should. (Disclaimer: There are also some days when my clothes have the opposite butt-problem, but we don't like to talk about those days. Plus that hasn't happened for a while so we're pretending like it's not an issue.) Now, I suppose I could just go on strike and refuse to wear pants, but that means I'd either have to wear shorts, a dress, or nothing to cover my butt. It's getting too chilly for shorts and dresses, and I'd never get out the door if half-nakedness were the only option.
Now, I tell you all of this so you understand what I mean when I tell you that today was a really bad pants-strike day. This morning, I tried on almost every pair of pants I own to try and find some that didn't have a saggy bottom, but to no avail. I tried the dress route, but even the dresses hated me today. It got frustrating enough that at one point I found myself thinking that I wish I lived in Florida so I could go raid grandma's closet, because even one of her muumuu would look better on me than my clothes were looking.
I finally put on the least-saggy pair of jeans I could find and went on to have a sufficiently good day. But man, oh, man, I sure did scare myself with the muumuu wish. I guess it's time to do laundry and/or whip out my sewing machine!
Monday, November 7, 2011
Talents
One of the best things about being graduated is how much time I now have to spend on my hobbies and developing my talents. My reading time has increased, I've learned to crochet, I have opportunities to cook a little more often, I've spent a little more time playing guitar, and I get to sew sometimes. I really love it!
I think it's really been good for my self-esteem. My insecurities about certain things have, in the past, caused me to interact with people in a way that is less than perfect. I won't go into detail, but let's just say that I've finally started to see just as much value in myself as I see in other people--that is, I am trying to see myself as Heavenly Father sees me--and I feel more confidence in myself and love for other people than I've probably ever felt before.
I'm not saying that you have to cook, sew, be musical, and be a genius to value yourself. All I'm saying is that I've finally started to see how my talents can add meaning to my life, not because I'm "the best" at any certain thing, but because I have simply been striving to become better. Geez, it has taken me a long time to figure that out.
Now, I'm not the best singer in the world, but I still sing.
I'm not the best guitar player in the world, but I still play guitar.
I'm not the best or fastest crocheter in the world, but I still crochet.
When I sew I get really excited and end up sometimes skipping small but important steps that would make the final product look so much better, so I am certainly not the best seamstress in the world, but I still sew. (Side note: At first I actually typed that I'm "not the best sewer in the world." Also true.)
Mostly I do these things because I enjoy them, but hopefully I can soon figure out how to better serve others with those abilities, because I think that is the true purpose of talents and gifts. Each of us has been blessed with talents--both spiritual and temporal--that are characteristics we've inherited from our Father in Heaven. These gifts have been given to us to enrich our lives and improve the lives of those around us. So much of our world is based on competition to be the best at something, when really we should just strive to be the best versions of ourselves. I know people who have the gifts of joy, love, hope, and perspective, among many others. As we all share those unique and special gifts, our power and influence for good increases. What gifts do you have to share?
I think it's really been good for my self-esteem. My insecurities about certain things have, in the past, caused me to interact with people in a way that is less than perfect. I won't go into detail, but let's just say that I've finally started to see just as much value in myself as I see in other people--that is, I am trying to see myself as Heavenly Father sees me--and I feel more confidence in myself and love for other people than I've probably ever felt before.
I'm not saying that you have to cook, sew, be musical, and be a genius to value yourself. All I'm saying is that I've finally started to see how my talents can add meaning to my life, not because I'm "the best" at any certain thing, but because I have simply been striving to become better. Geez, it has taken me a long time to figure that out.
Now, I'm not the best singer in the world, but I still sing.
I'm not the best guitar player in the world, but I still play guitar.
I'm not the best or fastest crocheter in the world, but I still crochet.
When I sew I get really excited and end up sometimes skipping small but important steps that would make the final product look so much better, so I am certainly not the best seamstress in the world, but I still sew. (Side note: At first I actually typed that I'm "not the best sewer in the world." Also true.)
Mostly I do these things because I enjoy them, but hopefully I can soon figure out how to better serve others with those abilities, because I think that is the true purpose of talents and gifts. Each of us has been blessed with talents--both spiritual and temporal--that are characteristics we've inherited from our Father in Heaven. These gifts have been given to us to enrich our lives and improve the lives of those around us. So much of our world is based on competition to be the best at something, when really we should just strive to be the best versions of ourselves. I know people who have the gifts of joy, love, hope, and perspective, among many others. As we all share those unique and special gifts, our power and influence for good increases. What gifts do you have to share?
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