2015 was not the kindest year to me. Of course, there were moments of inexpressible joy and light, but looking back, it seems like those moments are dulled by the immense darkness that seemed to envelope my little world. I'm not sure this is the appropriate place to extricate everything that the year brought with it, but I want to release some of the year into this little post so I can stop dwelling on it alone.

The year began with a heartbreak that I couldn't quite shake for the longest time. But as I found my way into spring, I felt a renewal of my ability to open up and care for another person again. The season was a long, beautiful moment woven into months that helped me to be happy again and once summer took over, it flourished as I took my own adventure to the other side of the globe.

I can't even begin to express how much my experience with my study abroad was one that was divinely given.

In the sadness at the beginning of the year, I felt like I had lost myself a little bit and lost my understanding of the importance of remaining a good person (because it had just brought me to heartache then and before). Then, suddenly, as I was walking home from class one evening, the thought of looking into a study abroad came to mind. I thought of my dream of going to Scotland and felt this burning drive to make it happen. So, I looked into the programs my school offered. I found a few that looked interesting and would help me make my way to Scotland. I narrowed it down to three, but my thoughts and good feelings just kept going back to the English Language in Britain program. So, I applied for it. And by the miracle of immense generosity from others, my bank, and my school, this poor white girl was able to afford her dream.

Even after the miracle of getting everything done and together before I left, the blessings didn't stop there. My spring of being happy again melded into a summer of a beautiful adventure that helped me to become reacquainted with who I was and helped me learn to just be the person I wanted to be.

The Lakes District

I don't really know how to describe it, but the Lord was in every mile of that adventure. He was there when my heart filled with gratitude at Hadrian's Wall for the immense beauty that was surrounding me just before entering Scotland. He was there when I got the courage to get into the coldest water I've ever felt in my life in Lake Windermere and the thrill that came with that. The Lord was in the kind old couple I met on Llandudno Beach in Wales that talked to me and my friends for two hours about their incredible lives. He was there when I found the home of my heart in the beautiful country of Ireland and its beautifully kind people.

Once the adventure was over, I was ready to keep on with the happy streak that I had been blessed with for those four beautiful months. What I was met with, however, was the complete opposite. The happiness I had in spring seemed to have lost its will to thrive when I came back to school in the fall. I was in denial about it for a little while until I felt myself slip into this deep and abiding anger. I still can't tell you exactly what it was that I was so angry about, but that anger was all too real and really foreign to me. I lost the thirst that I have always had to show those around me that they are important and cared for; I lost the will to make new friends and seek new adventure, which had previously been a part of my personality. I sunk into this hole that I couldn't seem to find the way out of.

In that hour of immense confusion and frustration, I felt the deep impression to just hold on to my love for and relationship with my Savior. I'm glad that I never lost the desire to do so and I'm grateful for the ones close to me that helped me find my way out of that seemingly endless hole, but man, oh man, was it horrendously difficult.

Surprising my mom for her birthday

I immersed myself in my studies (as it was the most intense semester of my life thus far) and what energy I had I mainly spent just trying to find the optimistic part of my personality that seemed to have just suddenly died. The only way I thought I could do that was just trying my best to give my all (well, what all that was left) to my relationship with my Heavenly Father. And while it did take a heck of a lot of time (and a trip home to my mommy), I did find my happy again. It was a different kind of happiness from spring's, but it was a happiness nonetheless. I enjoyed the contentedness and felt myself coming back to me again.

Toward the end of the year came a broken heart of a different kind, which I've already talked about here. It was a devastatingly difficult time, but it was a time where I continued to come to know my Heavenly Father and my Savior and their immense, incomparable love.

2015 was a deeply personal year. That's probably the word I would use to sum it up--personal. But with the ups and all of the downs I came to know what is truly important at the end of the day, and that came with a long year of getting to know and love more deeply the God who gave me life and the Savior who gave me a second chance. I would have been an even bigger wreck than I already was if it weren't for both of Them lifting my heavy loads and smiling with me when the good moments came into view. They are so incredibly good to me, even when I don't always deserve it. I've come to know this year more than ever that men are that they might have joy. Even if that joy is egging you on as you look up at it from your dark hole, there's always going to be the moment when you are able to choose to see the climbing rope that has been provided by a loving Father or continue to look down into the darkness and every other direction for some easier way out. It's not always easy, and this year was not always easy, but it was so worth it in the end.

I ended 2015 in the House of the Lord, which really sums up where I've found myself after all of this--in the comforting warmth of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I plan to be there as much as possible this year, because with all of these dark hours I faced this past year, that sacred, beautiful place has never failed to give me what I needed to be pushed toward the light again.

______________

I think I'll just go ahead and make this the song of my 2015 because it's perfect:

For My Good

And if thou shouldst be cast into the pit, or into the hands of murderers, and the sentence of death passed upon thee; if thou be cast into the deep; if the billowing surge conspire against thee; if fierce winds become thine enemy; if the heavens gather blackness, and all the elements combine to hedge up the way; and above all, if the very jaws of hell shall gape open the mouth wide after thee, know thou, my son, that all these things shall give thee experience, and shall be for thy good.

This weekend, I really feel like I've been dragged through hell. There's really no other way to put it. Friday evening I got word that a girl I grew up with and her family had been victims to a sickening act of violence. I don't think I've ever been so sad in my entire life as I have been these past three days; I don't think my heart has ever hurt so deeply. Having known and loved these people, and being one that feels far too deeply for her own good, I have just felt so heavy. But even with this sickness of sadness, I'm not sure I've ever been so aware of how much Heavenly Father knows about me either.

I've always known that he's been there for me and cares about and loves what I care about and love, but He has placed so many specific things in my little life in this big world to help me recognize that He knows my broken heart.

I went to the temple on Saturday and, knowing my love for Scotland, my Heavenly Father placed me near a missionary from Scotland that was there with his companion helping a couple that they had led to the church go to the temple for the first time to do baptisms.

And in that same place in the temple, He prompted me to talk to my friend next to me because He knew my heart was drifting into sadness as I was praying and reading the scriptures quietly.

Later that day, as I was playing my usual pickup game of ultimate frisbee, there were so many dogs and children at the park--two of my very favorite things, and two things that Heavenly Father knows are my favorite.

He prompted me to call two of my friends that I had grown up with alongside our friend who had been the surviving victim of this tragedy, and on Sunday prompted me to call my wonderful grandmother.

I have never been one for crying in public, or in front of people at all for that matter (besides my mom), but I kind of lost it during the sacrament hymn on Sunday. And while I usually try to sing sacrament hymns in my head and pray during the sacrament, Heavenly Father instead placed a song that isn't a hymn in my head because He knows the hope and peace it gives me when I've had a bad day. And while it is not a particularly spiritual song, I felt the love of God through the Spirit with immense intensity as I recited that song in my head instead of a hymn. And then after the meeting, when I broke down again, I felt His love in the hug of my bishop's fantastic wife.

He gave me peace as I had to sing twice in a musical fireside my ward held last night (Sunday), because He knows I'm trying to not be shy in sharing my talents and because He knows how much I love to sing and how much it scares me to sing in front of others.

He helped me when I went over to a friend's apartment to receive a priesthood blessing and his roommates (also friends of mine) offered me ice cream when I came over, even though they didn't know that I had come over to receive a blessing. (I love ice cream.)

I woke up this morning from a good dream, and then my thoughts caught up with me and I felt myself slipping into sadness again. After trying to cope with some spiritual enlightenment, I went downstairs, looked out the window, and saw that it was snowing. The gentle fall of frozen water may be the bane of some people's existence, but to me, it is a gentle, quiet reminder of the Christmas season and the Savior that's at the center of its celebration.

He loves me so much, and even though I'm still sad, and my heart is still aching, and I want to cry even as I write all of this, He has helped me know He is here. He has held me close and safe in the midst of this ugly, horrific storm. He keeps urging me to not let go of my faith and to mourn with those that mourn. And if that's all He asks in exchange for this immense love that I have felt from Him, then that's what I'm going to do. And somehow, someway, this will all be for [my] good.

____________________________

The song in my head during Sacrament:

Letters to August - 5 (August 20, 2015)

Dear August,

So, this year's letters haven't been as frequent as last year's. I'm sorry for that.

My laptop is currently being poked, prodded, and (hopefully) fixed in some warehouse somewhere (I like to think the North Pole, but that's just because I'm still five years old). So, it should be back to me once the end of these letters roll around. That means more substance to these letters than I can manage in just the hour I get for my lunch break when I sneak up to the Media Center in the library to use the computers there.

My life is kind of funny, August. There are so many random/odd/crazy/flabbergasting things that tend to happen to me. Like, gravity's constant need to be my enemy or Europe's need to prevent me from using all of my electronics. And there are so many other maybe not so funny things that have been a part of my life, but that's life, right?

At the beginning of my life, the Lord tried me with trials of faith having to do with my health (I was a sickly child), then my family (my parents' divorce), and once I got through all of those things, he's continued to try me with things that may not seem like much after those early trials to some, but to me, they are everything and they run deep. I won't get into too many details because trials are sacred things that should only be shared if we feel prompted to do so (not the case right now), but it's so interesting how much we grow.

That's so obvious, Jazmin. (What you were thinking.)

But it's not as obvious as when you consciously look back and see how life has shaped you.

When I was little, I would tell my dad that I wasn't moving away from him until I was 21 (or was it 25?). Well, I'm 21 now and I've lived on the other side of the country from him and my childhood home for three years (going on four now). I wanted to be a singer as a profession back then and now I want to be as far away from the spotlight as possible at a little desk editing books (maybe magazines). I spent my afternoons belting out Christina Aguilera/Beyonce/Kelly Clarkson songs into my karaoke machine's microphone until I blew said microphone (the most devastating day of my life). And while I still enjoy sappy love ballads, I've moved on to more folky ones and dance tunes (when I need a break from the banjo and broken hearts). And I rarely sing in front of others. If ever.

Those things are just minuscule parts of growing up, I know. But they are an important part of who I've become. Life has shaped me and I'd like to think it's for the better. The Lord has seen me through everyday and has tried to help when I've allowed him to. And it's always better when I do.

When I think about some of the funny/crazy things that have happened to me and happen to me on a regular basis, I like to think all of those things are placed in my life by the Lord to see me through when those not so funny/crazy things happen. He wants me to know He gave me this world to find happiness, not sorrow. He wants to see me smile, and He wants me to choose to smile, even when ridiculous things might happen. He tries me a lot, and I'm actually pretty grateful for that. I'm also grateful for the choice to laugh at the crazy, rather than dwell on any anger or frustration that might come with it.

"I just really enjoy watching your life. You handle it so well." - a study abroad friend after I managed to hit and then miraculously catch my glass at a restaurant before it did too much damage.

At least my reflexes are getting better with each thing I tend to knock over (figuratively and literally).

But I'm still not confident enough to wear too much white without worry about spilling something.

Until another day,

Jazmin

Letters to August - 4 (August 14, 2015)

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