Dear August,

This has been quite an experience, these letters.  I did a lot better than I thought I would and I said more than I thought I could.  It's been an exercise in talking about myself more and giving my input more than I'm usually willing to.  I tend to put myself in the background when it comes to things that really matter.  I'm good with being the goof of the gang, but it takes awhile for me to be even fifty percent open and bold in what I think and feel, and sometimes, in hindsight, I don't think I actually give that much.

This project has actually been a blessing that I didn't even think would happen.  I am probably my own worst critic when it comes to writing.  I have had so many people tell me how great they think my style and way of expressing myself is when it comes to writing, but I never see it.  In all honesty, I've always thought of myself as a crappy amateur in the department of words.  I'm so overwhelmed with what the future holds in this field I'm studying because I see so many people that I think can do it so much better than me, but I've really been working on just letting me be.  This project has really been an exercise that I like to think has strengthened my writing.  I know I bark about how much people need to stop hiding the amazing talents and beauties the Lord has blessed them with, but I don't always take my own advice when it comes to my own talents.  I'm not saying I'm anywhere near the writer I want to be, but I am a better writer than I was at the beginning of this month.

At least, I think so.

Have a fantastic year, August.  You deserve it, especially after listening to me babble for an entire month (minus a couple of days).

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 28

Dear August,

There are a few things I'd like to change up a bit this school year.

To-do:

• Go hiking more
• Go camping
• Get stamps in my National Park Passport book
• Do more creative projects
• Do that whole straight A's thing
• Go to a football game (finally)
• Get my butt running again
• Less movie nights, more let's play

That's mostly all for now, but I'll keep you posted.

Stay golden.

Love,

Jazmin.

Letters to August - 27

Dear August,

Home is supposedly where the heart is.

My heart is in the smell of Maxwell House's factory in the morning.  It is in the view of the mountains from my living room window.  It is in skyscrapers.  It is in fields of cattle.  It is in the sun-kissed faces of my family at the beach. It is in the frostbitten cheeks and the snow-drenched hair of my friends in the winter.  It is in Chamblin's Bookmine.  It is in the fifth floor of the Harold B. Lee Library.

It is in the green of Savannah.  It is in the chill of Seattle.  It is in the history of Biltmore Estate.  It is with a mouse named Mickey.

If my heart is in so many places, I'm gonna have a lot of mortgages to pay off.

(Please think that was witty.)

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 26

Dear August,

They say it's not the destination, but the journey that counts, or something to that effect.

I happen to think both the journey and the destination are pretty awesome, but the beginning is the part that really sucks for me.  I am the biggest procrastinator when it comes to packing.  I am the biggest procrastinator when it comes to a lot of things (I'm working on it), but packing most of all.  I don't know if it's just overwhelming, or the fact that I always forget something and just don't care enough to pack anything anymore if I'm just going to forget.  That's not logical, but look who we're talking about here.

Packing is always last minute for me and it is always in increments.

Oh, I've got all my clothes done?  Let's see what books I want to bring.  Oh, I can't leave him behind, or him, or her, or that one I.  (Yes, we are still talking about books.)  I wish I could read all the time.  There are so many books to read in the world.  Reading is so wonderful.  I wonder what books goodreads has to offer me today.

*cue a million hours of searching books to put on my "to-read" list*

Oh, I should probably pack my bathroom stuff and my carry-on.  I need to charge my laptop for tomorrow. I wonder if there are any sales going on online...

You get it.

There also might be something stopping me like the disheartening fact that I like to think I'm a minimalist, and nothing proves me more wrong than packing.

See you tomorrow, Provo.  If I somehow finish packing.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 25

Dear August,

There are four months until Christmas.  2 months, one week, and four days until Halloween.  3 months and two days until Thanksgiving.

I am so ready for this jelly.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 24

Dear August,

I'm in a bit of a funk right now.  I was having the nonstop reading summer that I have been craving for so long, but suddenly, I don't know what to read.  There are plenty of books on my shelves waiting for my attention, but there is not a single one that I actually want to give my attention to.  It's really weird.  I've always had a mental list of which books to read next and in what order, but suddenly the list has become blank and uninspiring.

My goodreads goal this year is to read 25 books before the year's end.  I am just under halfway there without any clue as to what turn to take next, and it's making me very uncomfortable.

Tell me what to do, August, before my imagination starts experiencing withdrawal.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 23

Dear August,

Today I am especially grateful for Jesus Christ and the healing power of His Atonement.  I have seen it in my own life and I have been blessed to see it shine on the life of my loved ones who had fallen from the rays of its light.

I don't know that I talk about my earthly father often enough.  He is a great man.  He is half of the goofy that made my brother and myself.  He gave me my curly hair and my sensitive heart.  He is so smart and is capable of so much I don't think he has ever realized.

My dad was my best guy when I was little.  He and I spent every afternoon together.  He stayed at home while my mom worked during the day and then he would go be a superstar at night playing his music, but when he was home he was all there.  He was my pal as I would sit on his big belly and watch football with him.  He was my pal when he would play the guitar and teach me songs from his youth and as he would learn my favorite song of the day.  He was my pal when I wanted to be a softball superstar and he would play catch with me.  He was my pal for so many days of my childhood, but then he suddenly wasn't.  I lost him for a long time, but the Atonement of Jesus Christ has allowed us both to heal and come back to each other.

Christ knows my pains and he knows my dad's.  He knows how to mend each of our broken vessels and forgive the scratches and dents we have made in our spirits.  He has given me -- and continues to give me -- my father back, piece by piece, as they work together to do so.

The Atonement is there for each of us if we just lay our burdens at the Master's feet, promise to do better, and then get up and do better.  It may seem difficult, but it is always possible with the Lord on our side. He is on our side if we allow Him to be.

Though we may feel we are "like a broken vessel" we must remember that vessel is in the hands of the divine potter. - Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

I am so grateful for what He is molding my dad and me to be.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 22

Dear August,

I honestly forgot I was supposed to write to you today.  It's not that I don't enjoy these little chats (even though they are a bit one-sided...sorry), I have really loved these days off, and just being able to get some insight into the incredible noggins of my friends has been wonderful.

I don't really have anything profound to tell you.

Today was my last day working at my mom's office.
I head back to Utah on Wednesday.
I got really dehydrated yesterday and thought that's how it would end for me.
I saw Guardians of the Galaxy this evening.  My bladder felt like it was going to explode from the amount of laughter that took place and the amount of Diet Coke in my system.
I made a PB&J on almost-stale hamburger buns.
I am excited to see my dog tomorrow when I visit my dad and brother.
As always, I really want chocolate.
Nope.  Ice cream.

Love,
Jazmin.

Letters to August - 21 - Shummzie

I am a friend of Jazzmin's. :)



My name is Ryan Shumway. In high school I had so many nicknames: Shumway, Shummzie, Shumster, Shummy (thats all I can think of). The College nick names have gotten a lot more creative: Shumdog Millionaire, Shumzilla, and a first namer, RyGuy. Enough about me.


I'm just going to tell you, August about my experience meeting Jazzmin and how that was.


I moved into the Southridge ward in August of 2013. Jazzmin was not present BECAUSE she was in Florida, after moving there after the summer because she was planning on serving a mission. Revelation happened and she felt like she shouldn't go, which is great for one very selfish reason, I GOT TO MEET HER. So, I became good friends with her friends, Arianne and Mariangel. (Both amazing people too).



I would spend the evenings of weekends with them. They were so funny and GOOFY. But, one day, this girl was with them, (da da DA). Her name was Jazzmin, she was/and is equally funny and maybe a little more goofy, but so cool too. Define Cool... OKAY. She has no shame in sending the craziest snap-chats, and they're basically hilarious every time. No doubt. #nodoubt.



Arianne, Mariangel and Jazzmin are really good friends because they influenced me to make really good decisions. I was surrounding myself with some not as good people during that time, and then I started spending time with these three ladies, and I could see the huge contrast in spirituality. I could feel the spirit with Arianne, Mariangel and Jazzmin (Im going to abbreviate you three to JAM :D ). So I felt really good with JAM but then I would go to my "other friends" and not feel as good and it started to get me thinking on who I should surround myself with.



So, I just wanna throw out there that JAM, you're all great friends, doing the right thing and leaving people better off than you found them. Which is a BIG plus. Thank you SO much.



I don't really know what else to tell you August. Jazzmin is attending BYU in Provo, UT as an English Major, being Englissssh with herself, and Arianne decided to flee the state because she discovered the sun is too bright for her skin to survive here anymore. (We have an inside joke that Arianne is a vampire because of her light colored skin..) So, she went to a University in Seattle, Washington.. which is PRETTY far away. Mariangel is studying Psychology. A major that I also find pretty interesting. You have to be pretty determined with this major because you need more than 4 years of schooling to make a living, which Mariangel is planning on perusing (YA GIRL YA). :)



These are my friends August. And great they are.

- Me

Letters to August - 20 - Arianne

Dear August,

I never like writing the first few sentences of letters because I just have no idea what can be both interesting and yet not give away the entire purpose of the letter.  We alllll know there's this unspoken rule that you must casually entertain your friend before you get to the point.  However, some ignore the rule and just skip past all the fluff.   Those people are on a different level-- a level that can not be obtained.  Maybe they're born with it.  Or maybe it's Maybelline. Ladies and gentlemen, that concludes my fluff for today.  I hope you realize what I just did to you and that you hear my laughter distantly in your mind.

Like others, Jazmin asked me to write to you.  As instructed, I am free birding it.  As William Shakespeare said: go to your bosom; knock there, and ask your heart what it doth know.

The world is good.  There are many things that happen every day that are not the best but the world is still good.  Every morning the sun will greet you and the trees will wave to you as the wind makes its way downtown.  Some birds will chat while others take the time to soar here and there.  Flowers will do their thing and all those furry creatures will do their best to see the new day.  Everyone wakes up to different beauties which we all recognize yet often fail to appreciate.  I know that life is difficult and not everything is perfect but I want you to know this:  the stars you see every night are the same stars I see and the world is good.

People are good.  I want to expand on this but it's one of those topics that words simply cannot suffice.  The beauty and potential we all have is immeasurable but we spend the majority of our lives doubting all of it.  It's as if we subconsciously believe that Heavenly Father sent us here to be unremarkable.  What a silly thought.  Every day I see strangers serving one another whether it be big or small.  Everyone is flawed but man are people good.

I know this message is short and there are many things left unsaid, but they are merely simple truths.  We all know them but we lose sight of them so easily.  It's time to wake up see what we've been simply looking at all this time.  I hope you do not deny yourself the simple joys in life.

Best,
Arianne

Letters to August - 19

Dear August,

We are all idiots.

I cannot tell you how to get x when Gerald has 20 apples and an isosceles triangle inside an oval with forty oranges inside it is about to experience spontaneous combustion.

Even if I got it right on a test way-back-when, I could not tell you each phase of mitosis in order.  I know telophase is at the end (I almost called it telekinesis).

I cannot give you an equation or really an explanation for gravity and how it does its thing.

I cannot cook without following a recipe exactly.

But we are also all geniuses.

I can discuss every ounce of the books I love if I allowed myself to put you through that.  I can connect them to each other.  I can connect them to the world.  I can connect them to me.  I could probably connect them to a triangle if I wanted to.

I can explain to you how to treat certain illnesses and injuries.  I can spew out home remedies and little tricks to make your ailments a little easier to bare.

I can go on and on about feelings and loving others.

I can make whip up some mean homemade brownies.

I am an English major, but I was not an English major initially.  I was on the pre-med route and just minoring in English when I started university.  People listened when I told them that.

"I want to be a pediatric cardiologist," I would say.

Their eyes would light up and their mouths would spew out every word of admiration possible.  They thought I must be some sort of genius for wanting to pursue such a career, but oh how the tone changed once I decided my real dream of working in the industry of imagination; working with books for the rest of my life.

"So, what are you studying!"
"English!"
"Oh...And what exactly do you want to do with that?"
"BE HAPPY WITH MY FRIENDS THAT JUST HAPPEN TO BE BOOKS THANK YOU."

Minus that last part, that's how the conversation usually goes and it ends shortly after that with a feeling of discomfort and -- you guessed it -- inadequacy on my part.

I went from genius to idiot faster than I could even realize it was happening.

Apparently, in the world's eyes, books are smart to read, but never to make your living.  I let it bug me sometimes, but then I realize I'm doing what makes me happy and that's all that really matters.

I had such a difficult first Fall semester.  My sciences were difficult, my G.E.'s were hard, my English class was hard, but at the end of the day, I was still madly in love with my English class.  The 5068695 pages to read each night and the obnoxiousness of some of the theorists made me want to throw up sometimes, but holy crap did I love it.  I knew the reaction I would receive when I made such a switch, but I knew what would make me happy and the Lord confirmed when I went to Him asking if this is what I should be doing with my life.  No one was super thrilled, but I was over the moon.  (I know you said you wanted me to do what I thought was best, mom, but I know you were really excited for all those letters that would have been at the end of my name if I stayed on the pre-med route.)

I still love the world of medicine and caring for the sick and afflicted.  I love that kind of service.  I still love learning about the human body and how beautifully it works, but I couldn't do it for the rest of my life.  It is not my genius, but I am not stupid.  That took me a long time to figure out for myself.  No one is stupid.  We are each geniuses in our own right.  It is so incredible how different we all are and how each of us can be so smart in so many different ways.

Math and I broke up just about eighth grade, maybe ninth.  Science and I have a complicated relationship, but oh, how I love my English and cherish my History.  I am so grateful for the gifts that I do have, even if the world does not acknowledge them as such.  God gave me a mind that craves words and nostalgia, and I am going to try to live to be worthy of the gifts that that entails.

I am a genius in my own ways, and so are you.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 18

Dear August,

It's always been kind of difficult for me to be completely open and vulnerable.  I don't know if I just came into the world this way or if life's circumstance molded me into that sort of person (nature vs. nurture shoutout!), but it's there and it's not something I'm particularly okay with about myself.

Part of all of these letters to you, August, is to really get me out of that shell and be completely open and honest.  Maybe it doesn't seem like I've gotten too deep, but trust me when I say I have.  When I think about what to write to you, I usually think No one wants to hear that or That's too much, but I just write it anyway.

Well, some of it.

I've never been super eloquent when putting my thoughts out there on the spot, so to take just a second to evaluate how I actually feel about something and understand how to help someone else understand (at least, I hope) has been such a therapy.  With you, I do not have to worry if I'm saying something in the wrong way, or if I'm saying it like the dweeb that I am.  I can just say it.

So, maybe this is just a thank you, August, for helping me to be a little more open and a little more uncomfortable.

You are fantastic.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 17

Dear August,

Luckily, I realized early on that my mom knew a lot more about life than I did.  Sure, I had my moments of hormonal angst, but I always came out of the argument recognizing that I was being a brat (even if I still didn't openly admit it) and just needed to stop.  From that early realization, my mom and I were freed from the relationship that most mothers and daughters have while living in the same household, and just skipped to the best friends stage.

As I have moved away and have been able to meet so many different people from different places, I've realized how unique of a relationship my mom and I actually have.  I've realized even more just how incredible of a woman she is.

I have lost count of all the conversations I've had with people where I ask "Well, what did your mom say when you told her?" and they just look at me, dumbfounded.  Like I was the crazy one for telling my mother everything.  Maybe I am, but I've never regretted it.  Even in those times where I feel like I've done or said something that would disappoint her, I still tell her and she just pulls some incredible words of love and encouragement out of that noggin of hers.

In friendships I've had at school, in doing the Disney College Program, and just in my everyday I see the influence that mothers could have if they just listened and loved rather than neglecting and seeking control over their children.

I am so grateful to have a mother who talks with me and not at me.  I am so grateful for her desire to understand me and her complete empathy when I come to her with whatever is weighing on my shoulders.

I have witnessed so many parents trying to perfect their children rather than seeing the perfect that is already in them and helping it blossom with encouragement and complete love.  My mom is such a pro at that.  She has such faith in me and what I am capable of and that is so comforting in a world that screams words of failure at me.

I really hope I can be the mother for my children that she is to me.  Those would be some darn lucky kids.

Love,
Jazmin

P.S. This talk by Elder Ballard explains what mothers should be (and what my mother was and is for me) much more eloquently than I ever could.

Letters to August - 16

Dear August,

I am so grateful I have a mom with a love of adventure.

I mentioned to her that I wanted to go to Savannah, Georgia while I was home before I head back to Utah, but we never really decided on a day to go.  Yesterday, the thought of going just had me itching to go right then and there, so I asked her if she would be up for going today.  She said yes.  We went.  It was fantastic.

Savannah is one of my favorite places in the universe.  It is rich with so much history (one of my favorite things) and life (another favorite).  Each building is so unique and the greenery sweeps me off my feet with its beauty every time I visit that magnificent place.  There is something for anyone and everyone.  I learn (and sometimes relearn) something new every time I go and it is always a fantastic treat.

Part of Flannery O'Connor's childhood home.

One of the many awesome boutiques.

This time around we took a different trolley tour than we usually do.  It was great to get a new perspective, then my mother indulged me (as she always does) and we went to Flannery O'Connor's childhood home and got the grand tour.  There were some similarities between Miss O'Connor and myself, which left me a little unsettled, but our tour guide was so nice (like everyone in Savannah).  Since it was just my mom and I for his audience, that actually made it even more fun.

We got to just kind of do our own thing once the trolley tour was over and it was magnificent.

Mickey Mouse boat?

If I could, I would probably stay in Savannah forever, but for now I'll just dream of that day.

Love,
Jazmin

P.S.

I'm five years old.

Letters to August - 15 - Mariangel

Dear August, 

When Jazmin asked me if I would like to write a letter I felt truly honored, and happily accepted.  As I sat and thought about what I should share with you my thoughts went everywhere, yet they ended up nowhere.  I had NO CLUE what I should say.  Then panic set in.  “My dear friend (who is an absolutely AMAZING writer) has trusted me, and let me be a part of something that is important to her.  I am totally going to let her down!  WHY WOULD I AGREE TO THIS?”  That’s when it hit me, like a volleyball to the face (and yes, I know what that feels like).  Jazmin isn’t going to care what I write.  Our friendship has reached the point of no return.  We have let all guards down.  I can (and often do) tell her everything that’s on my mind.  I am lucky to have many friends like this and today, August, you are one of them.  Lucky YOU! 

I often tell my friends things, like “You need to smile!” or “You might have to look a little harder in some places, but there is beauty all around us.” or “No matter how bad life gets, you can always find something about it that’s good.” Etc.  I laugh at the thought of me sounding like one of those cheesy sayings that come in a fortune cookie.  But the truth is, I like cheesy (and I’m NOT just talking about pizza)!  I was not always the optimistic gal who is sitting here today.   

When I look back at where I was two years ago, I can see a major change in myself.  I was just an average teenage girl attending BYU.  My faith was wavering.  I certainly did not have the best attitude, and I was knowingly making poor choices.  

Today, I am still nowhere near perfect, but I can smile and say that I am happy.  I know without a doubt that I am a daughter of my Heavenly Father.  I know that He cares for me personally.  I can see his hand in my daily life.  I sometimes find myself in awe at the beauty of this world that He has created for us, but what truly amazes me are the people.  The Lord has placed so many wonderful people in my path who have all helped me become the person I am today.  When I think of my family and friends I know that no matter how bad I think my life is, there is so much about it that is good.  It’s true that you might encounter some people that require you to look a little harder, but we are all creations of our Heavenly Father and there is beauty in us all.  I know that if I continue to make an effort to look at others through the Lord’s eyes, I will always have a reason to smile.

Much love, 

Mariangel

Letters to August - 14

Dear August,

Someday my prince will come.

I have been thinking a lot about him lately with one friend from home having gotten married and another engaged.

I mean, this isn't the first time I've thought about him.  I have twenty years-worth of lists with qualities he will have and I've practiced copious amounts of signatures with last names that aren't my own, but this is different.

I read this post from a friend of mine today, and the thought that my prince just might actually be real flourished even more in my mind than it has as of late (which is a lot).  That fairytale where he sweeps me off my feet with a large pizza and a cookies and cream milkshake to share?  That just might happen.  I've always trusted that it would (maybe not always with the artery-hardeners), but it has never been so tangible as it is now.

I am actually an adult with a pretty okay head on her shoulders who is capable of making eternal decisions and commitments, such as making promises in the House of the Lord to another human being as well as God.

Woah.

I've mostly been thinking about all the little things that add up to me adding to him and him to me.  I've been thinking about how perfect Heavenly Father's plan is for each of us, individually and as a whole.  He knows whose eternity I can add to and who can add to mine.  I'm so happy that He knows, because I would probably be running around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to figure out who in the world will make me happy for time and all eternity if He didn't.

What really matters is that he will love you, that he will respect you, that he will honor you, that he will be absolutely true to you, that he will give you freedom of expression and let you fly in the development of your own talents. He is not going to be perfect, but if he is kind and thoughtful, if he knows how to work and earn a living, if he is honest and full of faith, the chances are that you will not go wrong, that you will be immensely happy. - President Gordon B. Hinckley

I want that prince of mine to immerse himself in the gospel of Jesus Christ.  I want him to adore our children and me.  That's really all I require.

(He also probably should not be opposed to couple Halloween costumes and watching Lord of the Rings with me at least once a month, but I guess I can let those things slide.)

While the thought of my prince is still weighing heavy on my mind right now I'll just focus on My King and who He needs me to be before the day arrives when my calorie-providing knight makes his appearance.

Until then,
Jazmin C.

Letters to August - 13

Dear August,

I don't always have a lot of confidence in my writing abilities.  No matter the applause I get or the grade I receive on papers, I always know something could have gone better.

I followed the rules too strictly.
I didn't take any chances.
I took too many chances.
That sentence was unnecessary.
I should have elaborated.

etc.

One of the stories my mom and I like to tell from my childhood goes a little something like this:

When I was three I had a really bad stomach bug, so I was not feelin' too hot.  For some reason it was decided that this occasion called for me coming up with my very first email.  My Uncle Wayne was the lucky victim.

Dear Uncle Wayne,

I have diarrhea.

Love,
Jazmin

As I was telling my mom about my struggle to come up with something to talk to you about today, she pointed out the fact that I have come a long way since that classy email.

So, now, whenever I start to become too critical of myself, I'll try to stop and remember diarrhea and all will be well.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 12

Dear August,

I love memories.  I really thrive on them -- remembering them, creating them, and saving them in whatever way I can.

As much as I whine and moan about how much I hate technology, I am also really grateful for it.  I'm not sure how I could get by without all the pictures and the ridiculous videos I have taken and made.  I would probably be an even worse pack rat than I have been in the past and nobody wants that.  I'm grateful for the digital age that allows me to clean out my storage closet and take advantage of my digital storage.

It was so painful for me (physically, mentally, emotionally, and maybe even spiritually) to get rid of so many things once I moved out to college.  I had saved so many notes and quotes and random pieces of confetti because I thought those things were what would help me remember those moments.  I thought I needed to remember the specifics of that time that one person said that one thing that changed my whole day.  I thought I needed the cupcake tin that my mom and cousin put a snack pack of sugar free jello in for my thirteenth birthday in Alabama.  I thought I needed all of those church programs that I saved from so many meetings.  I thought I needed that page full of doodles I made at the end of the day one day in fourth grade when I learned how to make those fancy S's.

When it came down to it, I really didn't remember where half of the things in all of those boxes came from.  The items did not matter as much as the people.  They did not matter as much as the feelings I felt in those moments.  They never do.  The things I carry in my heart always carry so much more than a random piece of string that I found when that moment was happening.  Sure, the string has more meaning because of that moment, but whether the string is in the boxes in my closet or in my trashcan, that moment will never disappear.

While I'll probably always take too many pictures and make amateur youtube videos (that I'll later regret) I am really trying to just be in the moment.  I really want to just let the moment itself be my little souvenir in my little box in my overly-nostalgic heart.

It's not as easy as it sounds.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 11

Dear August,

The world is a beautiful place full of beautiful people.

That is the outlook I decide to take.  It starts as a conscious effort to find the beautiful in every place, person, and moment, because there is a beautiful to be found.  That effort eventual grows to just be natural and it makes life so much better and brighter.

I even try to find it when I look at myself, and that is something I'm really proud of.

I say that with some hesitation, but the hesitation should not even be there.

I am a daughter of God.  I was created by Perfect Hands to be and look exactly how I am.  That is nothing to be ashamed of or shy away from.  I have complete confidence in myself because I have complete confidence in where I came from and what that makes me.  I am a daughter of the Almighty.  The same hands that etched the mountains and the beautiful sky, painted me.  Not only that, but He has made me and everyone on this earth His absolute masterpieces.

What hurts me the most is when people shy away from that.  They don't seek the beautiful in themselves.  They recognize God's hand in their creation, but they think to embrace a compliment on their smile, voice, kindheartedness is to be prideful.  That is not the case.  To embrace that compliment is to embrace the fact that God made that part of you that someone is admiring.

To be prideful is to think that you are amazing or beautiful or wonderful because of your own doing.

To be humble is to recognize that all you are and all you have comes from God, but to not put yourself down because of that.  It is to find your beautiful, recognize it's from God, and share that beauty with the world around you, because in sharing that beauty and being confident in it because you know it's from God is to show God to others.

That was a lot of words, but I hope the point comes across.

I know so many beautiful people, men and women alike, who think it's vain to embrace their inner- and outer-beauty.  They fail to understand that it is okay to feel beautiful and incredible if you recognize it's because God made you that way.

Whenever I put myself down or shy away from people's praise, I don't feel like I'm letting God have the glory, I feel like I'm disappointing Him.  I feel like He'll think I don't appreciate all that I am and have because of Him if I'm not embracing it.

Like always, my scripture study aligned with what I have been thinking about lately.

And it came to pass that when Ammon had said these words, his brother Aaron rebuked him, saying: Ammon, I fear that thy joy doth carry thee away unto boasting.

But Ammon said unto him: I do not boast in my own strength, nor in my own wisdom; but behold, my joy is full, yea, my heart is brim with joy, and I will rejoice in my God.

Yea, I know that I am nothing; as to my strength I am weak; therefore I will not boast of myself, but I will boast of my God, for in his strength I can do all things; yea, behold, many mighty miracles we have wrought in this land, for which we will praise his name forever.

Alma 26:10-12

Maybe it's difficult for some people to be like Ammon and to boast of God without slipping into boasting of ourselves.  Maybe playing the card of shying away from praise is best for some, but for me, it just makes me sad.  For me, I can only imagine how sad it must make our Heavenly Father.

He loves us completely and wishes us to love one another completely, but I'm sure He also wants us to love ourselves.

Love,

Jazmin

Letters to August - 10

Dear August,

I want to tell you how wonderful my day was.

I want to tell you how uplifted and at peace I feel.

I want to tell you about the miracle of finding the brownie mix that I found AND chocolate chips in my house (my mom and grandma are on a diet).

I want to tell you so much, but right now I just want to be home.

I just want to be in my bed.

I just want to be cuddled up to my scriptures.

I just want to pour my day into my journal.

I'm sorry, August.  I just want a minute.

I promise I'll write more tomorrow.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 9

Dear August,

The summer of 2013 was a big one for me.  I was moving into my first real (non-dorm) apartment; I was getting ready to go on my mission; and I met some of the greatest people on earth.

One of them was my roommate, Arianne.  I didn't really get to know her until the day I heard her blasting Justin Timberlake's The 20/20 Experience.  My room roommate and I had been listening to that album on repeat since the day it came out and the fact that this tall, stylish, beautiful girl with the brightest eyes I'd ever seen was listening to it made me instantly want to be her friend.  It all kind of snowballed from there.

Arianne brings me out of my comfort zone (in the best way).  She encourages me to do things that I had previously only thought about letting myself do.  She helped me out of the arrogant attitude I had about mainstream music in high school.  She helps me to know myself better by being so comfortable in herself.  She embraces my crazy completely and I don't remember a time she has not had an encouraging word to say.

She shares my love of baking, service, and Pretty in Pink amongst other things.

She is truly one of the most beautiful people I have ever met.  I am so grateful Heavenly Father allowed me the blessing of having her in my life.

One thing that Arianne and I love to do when life is stressing us out is just blast some tunes and get our groove on.  Since today is her birthday and we are in opposite corners of the country, I decided to get my groove on enough for the both of us.  There are about a million songs that this lovely lady and I share a love for, but these are a few that spoke to me today.



I hope she has had a fantastic birthday, August.  She so deserves it.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 8

(6:45 AM)

Dear August, 

I am alone in my apartment. Everyone has left and the sun hasn't even begun to rise. My eyes are so heavy from a restless night on a crappy twin-sized mattress that should probably not have been shared by two full-grown humans, but we had to get a slumber party in before we parted ways. 

When I was in elementary school I cried every single last day of school. It got to the point where my dad (who is the biggest softy in the world) refused to pick me up on the last day because he couldn't handle how upset I would get. I have always dreaded goodbyes. I mean, no one enjoys them, but I think I always let them cut a little too deeply. 

There are so many things that I wish I would have done differently during my time here in Orlando, but at the same time I think what I would have done differently would have made the cut of goodbye a little too deep to actually handle. I know that's cryptic, but that's all I'm giving you for now. 

God's ways are not my own and right now I'll just put my trust in that.  I'll trust in the happiness that He has always provided in His own way that is perfect for me. 

The sun is starting to rise and I just heard my last roommate stirring in her room. I guess I'm not the last of the Mohicans just yet, but man it sure does feel like it.

Love, Jazmin

Letters to August - 7 - Cassie

Dear August,

It has only been 7 days into your month and already I can see the impact that you will be making in my life. My current routine has been uprooted. In a sense it is liberating; in a sense it is the key to my incarnation. I feel as though I am free because my daily schedule is now nothing but what I chose it to be. I feel confined because I don't trust myself enough with the responsibility to fill my days with constructive activities. I do suppose, with my schooling coming up in September, I can manage to compel myself into preparing for my move back to campus, but in all reality I will probably put that off until the last weeks.
Is it wrong to want to be slothful? Somedays I find joy in just silently sitting either on my bed or couch and just staring at the wall, reading a book, or listening to the background noise of my family members.
I have been a victim to the clock for the duration of the summer. I feel as though in this last summer month I may be at the choosing to have the cliched "summer nights". This being, long warm days filled with sun and laughter. Of course, this mythed delusion of how summer ought to be wouldn't be complete without the lake water hair and some slick chromed prince.
But I don't want any of the typical young girls summer. I want something so simple it is almost pathetic. I want nothing more than to be with the ones that I love and the ones that love me. No, I am not talking about the high school senior pact where everyone promises to love each other forever. I'm talking specifically about my family. From now until the time I return to school I want to spend time with the people who propelled me into being the person that I am today. I want to grow and learn from them in what little time we have left with one another. Summer should really be spent that way. Not so much a time for forgetting all of your prior schooling and responsibilities, but more as a time to reconnect with the people who got you to where you are today and who are ready to guide you for tomorrow.

Cassandra 

Letters to August - 6

Dear August,

Today will be my last day working for the Disney College Program and I am so excited.  It's been a great experience and I will miss so many people, but I am so ready to go home and then get back to school ASAP.

To commemorate the end of our program, Cassie and I decided to recreate a picture we took on one of our first days here when we were modeling our fabulous costumes for our roommates.  Mine was voted the ugliest in the apartment.  The vote was unanimous.

One of our first days

Today

I have nothing profound to say about any of this.  The only thing I am thinking about is the fact that after today my feet will no longer hate me for the torture I have put them through.

Love,

Jazmin

Letters to August - 5

Dear August,

What kind of music do you listen to?

That is the most difficult question for me to answer next to

What's your favorite book?

My answer is usually something like "a little bit of everything."  It sounds pretentious and I hate myself every time I say it, but it's the freaking truth.

My mom has sang and played the piano basically since her existence began and my dad is one of those people that can pick up any instrument and play it like it was made for him specifically.  They both started college majoring in music.  They were in a band together in high school.    They are musically-inclined to the max, but they are not like the snotty musically-inclined.  They did not force my brother and me to listen to Chopin and measure his style against Beethoven's.  They taught us to love every kind of music ever made.  Our home was filled with everything from Bob Marley to B.B. King to Britney Spears (that one was mostly me, though).

I'm really proud of the fact that I can spit out Led Zeppelin lyrics and then jump to Patsy Cline, but I don't always like to share all the music I like with people who ask.  Maybe it's because my random array of music is so close to my heart and I'm afraid that people will not appreciate it as much as I do, or maybe I care too much sometimes about what people think.  Whatever the case may be, I'm never too keen on letting my iTunes shuffle do its thing as I leave a room full of people.

To get myself a little out of that comfort zone of having complete control over what others hear from my personal playlist here is what my Spotify playlist of all of my songs on shuffle has to say:

All About That Bass by Meghan Trainor
Poppy by Zee Avi
Thinking About You by Norah Jones
Get to Me by Train
Tempted 1994 by Squeeze
I Am Trying to Break Your Heart (Cover) by Lauren O'Connell
I Believe in Christ by Jen Marco Handy
Piano Man by Billy Joel
Sweet Dream by Beyonce
Somebody to Love by Queen
1234 by Feist

And finally, Prologue: Beauty and the Beast by Alan Menken

Judge as you will.

Love,

P.S. This will probably keep me up at night.

Letters to August - 4

Dear August,

Today at work, while I was on register, I heard someone calling out a name.  I just kind of ignored it and tried to not be perturbed because people yell for people in their groups all the time at our store.  Then she yelled again.  Then again.  Then I listened and realized how frantic she was.

It was a woman who had lost her child in our massive store.

I turned around and saw the deeply-etched worry in her eyes.  I saw her visibly shaking with fear.  The entire store was silent in that moment.  My heart sank seeing that complete terror in her countenance.

She found her child, but my heart went out to her in that brief moment of silence.  I cannot even explain to you the weight of what I was feeling.

The parents I was checking out at my register just looked at their kids and shared brief words of love and concern.  They were whispered and quick, but they were there.

It was in that moment that I thought of my Heavenly Father.  I thought of what He must feel when I become lost.  I thought of what He must face when I think to do things my own way rather than His.

I can barely imagine what that mother must have felt in that moment.  I can't imagine what it's like for God to have to find the entire world when they lose their grip on His hand.  He has so many children who are so lost and so frantically trying to reach out to whatever inkling of comfort and hope is strewn across their path, but He never loses faith in us.  He loves us so much.  He's always throwing something or someone across our path that will bring true comfort and hope.

He sent us to this world because He trusted that we would find our way back to Him.  He trusted that we would finally get those hints He is always dropping of how real He is and how much He love us.

He weeps for us.  He cheers for us.  He is always, always ready and willing to guide us home.

I don't know how people live without the hope of the gospel of Jesus Christ.  I would be so scared.  I would feel so alone.  I would be a lost child in a store full of strangers.

I am so grateful that God is always searching for me when I stray and that He never loses faith that I will find my way back to Him.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 3

Dear August,

I have this issue.

Yes, another one.

For some reason it takes me a little too long to completely open up to people.  I don't know why, but I just naturally crawl up in my shell until far down the road when something just switches and I finally crack myself open a bit.  Even then, it's always little by little.

Don't get me wrong.  I'd consider myself a pretty friendly person, but it's easy to crack jokes all day to strangers and have a good time without ever actually saying or doing anything meaningful.  It's something I'm really trying to work on.  The weird irony is I am typically the type of person that hates doing or saying things that aren't meaningful.

I have been in this ward for three months now and I have felt so much love throughout my entire time here, but it is only now (when I'm leaving) that I have subconsciously decided to let these incredible people crack that stupid shell of mine.

Heavenly Father placed me in this ward because He knew I needed it.  He seems to always know exactly who or what I need.  He knew I needed to be surrounded by these awesome people with their awesome testimonies and their awesome love.

Yet another thing I'm indebted to Him for.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 2

Dear August,

I am twenty years old and I still do not have my driver's license.

Not a lot of people know that, and even fewer understand it.  I barely even understand it myself.  The only reason I even have my learner's permit is because I needed an ID to get my Financial Aid through and I thought it would be stupid to pay to get a state ID when I could just go ahead and take the stupid learner's permit test.  I passed, though, which has caused years of...

You wanna practice, Jazmin?
Why haven't you gotten your license yet, Jazmin?
Jazmin, there's nothing to be afraid of.
Hey Jazmin.  Did you ever end up finally getting your license?

And so on.

I don't know what it is.  I tell people I just have this irrational fear of driving and dying in a car wreck, but in my head it's not very irrational.  The fear isn't really what stops me from wanting to drive, though.  I really just don't enjoy it.  There are times when I do just suck it up and get behind the wheel because, again, I'm twenty-freaking-years old and I need to stop being a baby, but I have only felt that joyous "freedom" everyone keeps telling me you get when you finally start driving once or twice.

Today, whilst driving back to Orlando from Jacksonville, I managed to have a minor panic attack.  I didn't externalize it, but my internal was on fire with tightness.  I was fine when I first started, but some time between sixty and eighty a switch went off and I knew I was done for the day.  Grandma took over for the rest of the journey.

It was the first time I had ever really felt a panic attack whilst driving.  I mean, I've flipped out externally while driving, but I have never felt so out of control with what was going on inside.

I don't know why, but I hate admitting this problem with anxiety.  I haven't really had the problem since I was little.  I absolutely hated places with a lot of people and loud noises back in the day.  Eventually, I grew out of it and never really had to deal with the anxiety that is so prevalent in my blood.  Once I started working at the biggest Disney merchandise store in the world, though, the anxiety crept back in and I have had trouble not letting it overwhelm me.

August, I understand that there's nothing wrong with people who experience anxiety on the regular, but I just can't face the fact that I am almost one of those people.  It's stupid, I know, but I just like to deal with things by myself without any desire for pity or attention.  I don't like to be worried about.  I never have, even when I was the center of worry for so many people as I grew up with so many health problems.

I don't like to vocalize what's going on inside my thick noggin.  I just like to deal with things myself and find a way to get over it without any help from anyone.  It's a problem.

One of these days, though, I will find a way to get over this "irrational" fear of mine, but that day is definitely not today, August.

Who knows.  Maybe something will just click and I'll suddenly wake up to the desire of being a Nascar driver...

Or maybe I'll just stick to my flip flops for transportation.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 1

Dear August,

It seems I have already neglected you.  For that I apologize.

This week has been a bit of a whirlwind, but a whirlwind of so much pure joy.

Tonight I got to celebrate the wedding of my dear friend, Emma, to her dear Josh at their reception.  I have known Emma for so long I don't think we've ever not known each other, and we have known Josh since we were fourteen.  It's so weird to think about that, but so beautiful to see.  To be able to witness their love is such a breath of fresh air. It brings light into the world to see them together and just radiating love for one another.

Tonight was filled with getting a million flowers together, cutting nauseatingly juicy meats, and preparing for a speech in only mere seconds, but it was so worth it.

I pretty much said all I have wanted to say about this happily ever after in my impromptu speech, but I cannot say this enough:

I am so happy for the joy of eternity these two have decided to embark on together.

My seventeenth birthday party - 7/30/2011

Their wedding day - 7/29/2014

Love,

Jazmin

P.S.

An intro to my Letters to August project can be found here.