Dear August,

I know I told you yesterday about my little obsession with nostalgia, but I think I might be just as enthralled by the future (which I think was kind of subtlely apparent in yesterday's letter). The present is great as well.

I know, I'm a walking paradox. I'm also a woman. So.

Today (and every day as of late) I'm thinking about what I'm supposed to do with my life.

But while I'm doing that, I'm going to go enjoy today's blue sky with wonderful friends while continuing to think about how much I miss the Motherland that I've only been away from for a week.

Those double-x chromosomes are so blatant sometimes.

Love,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 3 (August 13, 2015)

Dear August,

I kind of thrive on nostalgia.

That's why I do things like these letters; that's why I tried taking pictures of every view I had from all the hostels/hotels I stayed at in Europe (and why my camera's memory card never seems to have enough room); that's why my journal bulges with useless knick knacks like train tickets, pictures by friends drawn on menus, and a rock I found on some adventure.

View from our hostel in Ambleside

View from our hostel in Dublin (featuring the coolest window ever)

View from our hotel room in Shannon

Maybe that's why I love reading so much. Maybe I love reveling in other people's nostalgia (real or not) just as much as I do my own. I think of their moments even when I'm not reading about them for days on end, and I do the same with my own moments I've been given.

The good thing about this little quirk of mine is the fact that I can remember moments so readily and can pull them out of my mind with complete vividness years after they happened (I can't say the same thing about basic algebra, unfortunately). The bad thing about this is the fact that I sometimes forget to have the moment because I spend all of my time trying to make sure its captured in one way or another (pictures, thinking up a journal entry or blog post). It's something I've been working on for the past little while, especially because actual adulthood is approaching fast and I'm finding it hard not to waste my time capturing those moments as much as possible.

I applied for graduation the other day and it's all too surreal. I feel like I've been carrying this fake ID around for the past three years that says I'm an adult, when in reality, I've just been faking it. The next year to come is calling me out on it and asking for an actual adult ID that says what I'm going to do with my life and how I'm going to make it happen. I'm still working on those details (sorry, mom), and I'm feeling the weight of what those details mean.

I'd like to say/think I still have plenty of time to figure it all out, but the almost four years I've had to figure all that out is quickly turning into months that I don't know what to do with.

Pray for me, August. I'm gonna need it.

Sincerely,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 2 (August 12, 2015)

Dear August,

What to say, what to say.

I've never been one that has a thousand quips of eloquence at her disposal when it actually matters. I can be sassy and sarcastic all the livelong day, but rarely can I adequately express the things that mean the most to me.

It's kind of always been that way. I've always been a little obsessive-compulsive about saying things exactly right or not saying them at all or waiting until I've had a few minutes to collect my thoughts and awkwardly trying to bring it back to what we were talking about before so my now-eloquent thought can be relevant again. It's a chore. And it's a little rude to not give someone your full attention. I'm working on it.

With that in mind, I didn't plan exactly what I wanted to tell you today. Maybe that was a little on purpose. Maybe I'm just saying that to make myself feel better. Either way, here it is--my letter to you on the only August 12, 2015 that we will ever have.

Maybe that's a better way to look at life rather than the live everyday as if it were your last mantra (which I've always found to be a little morbid). Live everyday as if that was the last time you would have that day. Because it is. So, make sure it counts.

I still haven't quite settled back into my old normal, August. I still wake up like I did at every hotel and hostel, confused about where I am. I'm also having a lot of weird/freaky dreams, so that's always grand (there's that sass/sarcasm I was telling you about). But at least it wasn't too bad adjusting to this time zone. That's a blessed relief.

While I'm not quite settled into the old normal, I'm already itching to go somewhere again. I thought I was tired of it after six and a half weeks, but apparently not. I'm not looking for another trip across the pond anytime soon, but maybe just another state? My bank account is saying no, though, and he's the boss. So, I guess I'll have to wait a bit.

I'm sorry I have nothing terribly insightful today to keep you awake at night, but at least you'll get a good night's rest, right?

Until tomorrow,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 1 (August 11, 2015)

Dear August,

Sorry it's been so long. I mean, I expected a year between us, but I didn't expect an added eleven days. But can you ever really expect gypsies to steal your phone in Paris (or can you?), or your computer to decide to die completely just after you've enjoyed the peaceful surroundings of the Lake District?

But that's my life, I guess.

A lot has happened in this year we've been apart. I've been reflecting on that year in preparation to write to you, and I wish I could tell you it's been the best year of my life thus far, but that wouldn't exactly be true.

I've always tried to make the conscious effort not to dwell on the sad things life throws my way. But, for some reason, sadness itself was the thing that was thrown my way around the time I wrote to and stopped writing to you last year. I had this constant heaviness about me that I just couldn't seem to shake, even into the winter months. It irked me a lot, because I've always prided myself on being a relatively positive individual. I actually kind of hated that I couldn't get back to that state, to be honest, especially being such a control freak.

I'm happy to say those dark days are over, but that has nothing to do with me and everything to do with my Savior, Jesus Christ. He has lifted that burden and refined me in the process. I'm still not perfect by any means, but that's what mortality is for--learning to become as He is, trial by trial.

Once I was out of that tunnel, so many things continued to show me the Lord's hand in my life. The most recent being the opportunity I had to travel a part of the world that I thought I would never be able to. This summer found me in England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales (and Paris for 36 hours, but that's another story). I still have a bit of sand from Inch Beach in my shoes and a lot of wonderful memories in my heart from those gorgeous countries.

I'm not sure how to explain it to you, but it just felt so right going on this study abroad.

I felt this strong impression during Winter semester that I needed to look for a study abroad, no matter the cost (literal and figurative). My usual sense of stress when it comes to things like this was basically nonexistent and I just felt so at peace getting ready for that adventure. And what an adventure it was.

I not only was able to see incredibly beautiful parts of the world, but I was able to meet some incredibly beautiful people along the way--both those from the countries we visited as well as the those I was traveling with. I also really grew to believe in myself more.

I mean, I'm a pretty confident person, but I'm not sure that anyone is ever one-hundred percent confident in all that they do. It's something I've been really trying to work on for awhile now, and this trip was such a huge remedy for that. Instead of thinking, Oh, you shouldn't/couldn't do that because (insert stupid reason here), I thought, Just do it. (Thanks, Nike.)

It was the perfect adventure for me and I am so grateful for it.

I am so incredibly blessed to have a Father in Heaven who knows me perfectly and loves me completely. He always knows exactly what I need, whether that be wonderful friends or crazy adventures on the other side of the world--or a little bit of both.

The top of St. Paul's Cathedral

Cliffs of Moher

Carrick-a-Rede

Hadrian's Wall

Arthur's Seat

In front of the Writer's Museum in Edinburgh

Until tomorrow,
Jazmin

Letters to August - 29/30/31

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.