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:

The Land of John Benbow

The next day was probably one of my absolute favorites. We had the privilege of going to a small ward in Cardiff for Sacrament. 

It was such a beautiful experience. 

It was in a little building on this little strip of shops, squished between two businesses, but that only added to the incredible spirit of humility I felt as I walked through the doors. 

We went up the stairs to their little room designated for Sacrament meeting. We had the blessing of witnessing one of the recently baptized members getting confirmed as a member of the church and receiving the Holy Ghost. After that powerful experience, one of the counselors in the Bishopric's wife spoke and the Stake Patriarch spoke. Both talks were so moving to me and they were just exactly what I needed to here. It was such a sacred experience for me that I don't really know how to explain it.

It reminded me a lot of my cousins' home ward in Callahan, Florida (out in the boonies) that I used to visit a lot growing up. It was small in size and the rooms were probably not big enough to fit over 100 people. They had to have a lot of their meetings in little trailers just outside the main building where Sacrament was held. But the Spirit of the ward could have fit into a thousand regular-sized chapels (and then some).

In Cardiff, as we were getting settled in for the meeting and singing the first hymn, the man in front of me accidentally knocked the hymn book off of his chair without even noticing. I had such a strong impression to pick it up and hand it to his wife sitting next to him. So, I did.

She immediately thanked me and asked in a fabulous Welsh accent, "Who is this beautiful lady sitting behind me?" It took me a moment to realize she was talking about me (How are these Brits so witty and polite, so naturally? And why am I always two steps behind them?) I introduced myself after a beat and we talked for a minute or so. It was in the middle of the hymn that we were having this conversation that she so much wanted to engage in with me, but I think that little interaction made me feel the Spirit more than the hymn could have in that moment.  She wanted to talk to me afterward, but got caught up in helping others in her ward.

As I was taking notes during the Sacrament talks, I kept going back to that minute, powerful interaction we had had when, all of a sudden, the words "Kindness is the Kingdom of God" came into my mind and heart. They struck my spirit so deeply that it actually brought me to tears. That was the epitome of that little ward. Christ's love was embedded in every single person; you could just feel it.

I wish I would have gone up to her afterward and continued taking in her beautiful spirit. Christ was so much in her countenance it almost moves me to tears thinking about it now and regretting not talking to her more. She is what a disciple of Christ looks like.

After that incredible experience, we made our way to the Gadfield Elm Chapel where the church started it's work in the United Kingdom. That too was an unforgettable experience. The senior missionary couple that was serving there was just so completely kind and so warm. 

After our visit to the Chapel, we made our way to the farm where Wilford Woodruff baptized so many of the first Saints to be baptized in the UK. He actually had to do most of these baptisms at night in a little pond in the cold because of all the mobs that would come and persecute the Saints when the baptisms were performed in the daytime.

Our professors trying to figure out where the pond was.

You can see the pond in the near-distance of this picture.

The farm was gorgeous and the fact that it had a bajillion sheep running around made it an even happier place for me.

My fluffy friends and me.

While Wilford Woodruff did a lot of the converting in the UK, it would not have been possible without the influence and deep conversion of John Benbow. His story and the story of the United Brethren he was a part of struck a chord with the part of my testimony that knows Heavenly Father prepares the hearts of each of us in specific, individual, loving ways to take in the gospel of Jesus Christ. It was a testament to how deeply He loves me and how much He needs me to love those around me. That was really the theme of the day for me--loving others as Christ loves me. I'm so grateful to know that love and I'm going to try a little better to show that gratitude by loving others just the same.

Because I have been given much, I too must give. 

My Brother's Keeper

As human beings, there's always more for us to do. And I mean that in the best way. Sure, there's more homework, more cleaning, more priorities as life goes on. But that means there's always more knowledge at our fingertips, more of making home a heaven on earth, more chances to grow and to help others do the same.

Lately, I've been trying to find my more. I kind of hit a plateau in my spiritual growth and I have just been praying for the Lord to reveal to me what it is I need to do to help myself and my testimony continue going up the mountain that will lead back to Him. He's revealed to me little things here and there that I need to work on, but He has recently been stressing the promise I made at baptism to help "bear [others'] burdens, that they may be light (Mosiah 18:8)."

I ran across the scripture below during my scripture study yesterday morning and the Lord has not let me forget it since:

 And again Alma commanded that the people of the church should impart of their substance, every one according to that which he had; if he have more abundantly he should impart more abundantly; and of him that had but little, but little should be required; and to him that had not should be given.

And thus they should impart of their substance of their own free will and good desires towards God . . . yea, and to every needy, naked soul. - Mosiah 18:27-28

It struck me so fiercely when I read it, I had to stop for a second to take it in. Maybe it's just a simple commandment, but it's such an essential part of the gospel of Jesus Christ. I may be a poor student scrounging for money for groceries, but some people never had the opportunity to be any kind of student (poor or not) and some have nowhere to scrounge for money except the city sidewalks. I am not rich by any means, but I have been luckier than many, and I have no right to selfishness when there is something, anything I can give to another in need.

Whether it be to the poor in spirit or to the poor as pertaining to the things of the world, I know I could do better to help them.

The Lord asks us in the church to give ten percent of our income to His church; He also asks us to fast for two meals once a month and give the money we would have spent on food to the church to give to the poor and needy. It's not a large sum to give. It's small compared to all that we do have and all that we are given through such acts of faith. It's ten percent of our income (plus a little for fasting) but it's an act that requires one-hundred percent of our hearts. The gospel of Jesus Christ requires us to give one-hundred percent of our love and devotion to the Lord through our love and devotion toward those around us, toward our brothers and sisters, whether that be through tithe and fast offerings, or just in our every day lives.

Although I may not be my brother's keeper, I am my brother's brother, and "because I have been given much, I too must give." - Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

And so I'm going to try to give more because I have been given so, so much.

Finding My Happy

I have not felt the greatest for quite some time.

My spirit has felt heavy with stress and I've been blindly walking in different directions that, in the moment, felt like the right ones.

It has been about a year and four months since I was supposed to report to the MTC to prepare to serve the people of the Arizona-Scottsdale Mission, but the Lord had a different path for me. Feeling the prompting to serve and preparing for my mission involved some of the most sacred experiences of my life. And the same can be said from the experience of learning from the Lord that my desire to serve was enough for Him and that my mission did not involve wearing a name tag that said "Sister Cybulski" for 18 months. I feel complete peace in that decision He made for me and I followed.

I went on with my life. I went back to school; I did the Disney College Program over the summer; I started making greater efforts to be involved with missionary work in whatever ways I could. But for the past six months or so, I've felt a heaviness. It started as every few weeks, then every few days, then every few hours, and now I worry that it will take consistent hold.

I'm still secure and at peace with not serving, but I was so set on following that direction for so long that once that road ended, I was a little flabbergasted as to which road to take next. And I still kind of am. I don't really know if that uncertainty is why my heart has been hurting so much lately, but it might be a contributing factor.

I'm not a negative person. I tend to look on the brighter side of things. I recognized some time ago that this life is a beautiful, sacred gift from a loving Heavenly Father and that fact still echoes through me every day. I know my worth because I know my Savior, Jesus Christ. And while these thoughts are not mere thoughts, but facts to me, they have been slowly dimming in fervency without my even realizing what was happening.

I haven't really talked about these things with anyone except my Heavenly Father. I tend to be a little prideful when it comes to the not so bright side of things in my life. I justify myself in not wanting to burden others and thinking that the only person whose opinion or counsel I actually need is God's. I like to work things out just between Him and me. Maybe that's not the exact way He wants me to deal with this load He is trying to help me carry, but I'm not perfect and I'm learning to let others in. And He is helping me break those walls.

I've been a little lazy in my journal writing lately (meaning for the past three months). I write entries on my phone or in an email instead of my actual journal. I've been making an effort to transcribe those digital entries into my journal for a few days now. I finished last night, and oh my goodness am I blind.

I'm blind to the hand Heavenly Father has had in my life every single day. I'm blind to the promptings He has given others to stop by my apartment just to talk. I'm blind to His kindness found in the smiles from strangers on campus. I'm so blind to His gentle, quiet efforts to make me feel loved through others.

God, who oversees the interlacings of galaxies, stars, and worlds, asks us to confess His hand in our

personal lives, too. Have we not been reassured about the fall of one sparrow and that the very hairs of our heads are numbered? God is in the details! Just as the Lord knows all of His vast creations, He also knows and loves each in any crowd—indeed, He knows and loves each and all of mankind!

 -- Elder Neal A. Maxwell

For my journal writing, I write what I have been grateful for in each day. In transcribing my entries, I've noticed that every single one is jam-packed with these small, powerful blessings that are witnesses to me of my Father in heaven's awareness of every part of my every day. Whether it's in the simple fact that I have the kindest, most genuine friends who I just happened to run into on a bad day, or that we danced my favorite routine in my Zumba class when I didn't even want to get up to go to class that day; God is in my every moment trying to make me happy. He is encouraging me, even if I'm deaf to His cheers.

I've been so absorbed in myself and my hurts that I've let go of that positive person I used to be. I have so much to be grateful for and I've been losing sight of that beautiful truth, but it is truth nonetheless. I have so many people looking out for me in both heaven and earth. The maker of galaxies cares about my worries and my heartaches just as deeply as (if not, more than) me and I'm going to try to keep that fact close to my heart. I know He is there for me, even if I'm not always there to receive His love. I know His arm is always outstretched, waiting for me to be lifted into His embrace. I know this yoke I am carrying is not mine to bear alone. I know He is trying to help me find my happy again.

Another thing to be grateful for. 

#ldsconf

I love General Conference.

It always seems to come when I need it most.  It always comes when I am becoming weak in spirit and it never fails to restore my strength.  I anxiously await its arrival every six months and it has not disappointed me yet.

Living in Utah (i.e. Mormonland), I am fortunate enough to be close to where conference takes place.  However, I have never been able to actually go.  Until today.

My beautiful friend, Rachel, scored four tickets.  Upon my telling her I had never been, she insisted (maybe even demanded) that I go with her.

I was so excited, but I could not have imagined the experience I ended up having.

We had our packed lunches on Temple Square, took in the beauty there, and then made our way to the Conference Center.  As the First Presidency walked in, I felt the heavenly love that I need everyday -- and have desperately needed lately -- magnified.  I felt my Heavenly Father's immense care for me as His servants spoke.  I felt the weight of everything I have been carrying lately dissipate right there in that massive room.  I felt my importance as a child of a loving God.  I felt the mercy of my Savior's Atonement.

It was a beautiful experience that I will never let myself forget.

Member of the church or not, I invite you to give General Conference a chance.  You can watch it online here.  If you watch it with an open heart and mind, I promise you will feel God's love, and that is a feeling that is incomparable to anything and everything the world has to offer.

I love this gospel so much.  I don't understand how I got so lucky to have always had it in my life, but it is a blessing that everyone deserves to have in theirs.

The gospel is not weight; it is wings.  It carries us. 

                                                                   - Jean A. Stevens

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 - 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 - 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 - 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 - 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 - 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.

Sandy Solace

I have never loved the beach.

I know it's beautiful.  I know it is a place of relaxation and solace.  It is a place to feel the sun kiss our skin with its warmth and to have the ocean wash away our worries, but oh my goodness.  I cannot for the life of me like it no matter how hard I try.

I never appreciated how close I have always lived to the beach until I was far away from it in landlocked Utah.  (Isn't that how it always goes?)  Every time I've been home I have so wanted to go to the familiar beaches of childhood, but once I get there I rediscover my dislike.  I don't get why or how I can't love this beautiful creation God has blessed me with, so don't ask.  It's just always been that way, even when I was a baby.

The mountains are where my solace lies.  I feel God's power in the mountains.  I feel the strength He has that He can grant me when I need it.  I have always kind of felt that the mountains represented God's great power  and majesty while the ocean represented His peace and comfort (even if the sand in my bathing suit bottoms distracted me from feeling that peace and comfort sometimes).  I can appreciate the beauty of the beach and that symbol that it is of peace, but the beauty of the mountains seeps into my heart and leaves me in awe.

So, on the Fourth of July when the plan was to go to the St. Augustine Beach with the family in the morning I was not exactly thrilled.  I had slight excitement ringing in my mind because it had been awhile since I'd been to the beach, but the excitement did not ring as loud as my knowledge that I would not love it and I would feel bad for not loving it.

It was a special Fourth of July in the fact that it was the interim time between my Aunt Chris' death and her funeral.  We all just wanted a day free of hurting.  We wanted to celebrate as Chris would have wanted us to.  So, we did.  I told myself I would like the beach that day no matter how much I had to lie to myself.  My family would be there and that would be enough for me to like it.  End of story.

I got out of the car and headed toward our little spot in the sand.  As we were setting up camp, I looked out at the ocean and I suddenly felt that familiar feeling of God's love.  I felt the gentleness of His comfort as others do when they see the eternity of His ocean.  It seeped into my heart as the mountains always do.  It was probably only for that day that I loved the beach, but it was a day I will be forever grateful for.  In the middle of our week of tears and heartache, God was there for my family on that beach as we celebrated not just our country's freedom, but our family's eternity.

On that day, even as the afternoon thunderstorms rolled in, all was well with my soul.

Peace in Loss

I absolutely love to serve those around me.  I'm not sure that there is anything that makes me more happy than to find some way to help someone in need.  It is the greatest therapy.  While I am a-okay with being on the giving side of service, I'm always a little hesitant (and probably a little prideful) when I'm on the receiving end.  It's an obstacle that I have really been trying to overcome.  So, it is with that thought in mind that I am writing this blog post.

Last night my Aunt Chris (my dad's oldest sister) passed away.  It was the most surreal experience of my life.  I have had others who were close to me pass away throughout my life, but when I have had family members pass away I was too young to understand the gravity of the situation or even remember much of the experience at all.

Chris had been in the hospital on and off for a couple of months.  Yesterday morning it looked like things were looking up, but then she took a turn for the worst.  I am so grateful to have been so close to home for the summer, and that I felt prompted to ask my mom to come pick me up to take me to St. Augustine to be with my family.  It was an emotional night for all of us, but it was one where I felt so much peace in the knowledge that I have of the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Phrases like "eternal families" and "His plan" were used without hesitation, and I felt so much comfort in that.

While I will miss my aunt's sweet heart and immense love, I know this is not the end for her.  I know Heavenly Father needs her now more than we do here.  I know we will meet again.

I am going to suck up my pride and just ask that you simply keep my family in your thoughts and prayers.

Chris had a tender, Christ-like love about her that it will be hard to be without for awhile, but it is a comfort to know that it is only for awhile.

I Know It

When I was three years old, my oldest cousin served his mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Mexico.  I obviously don't have much recollection of him leaving, but I do remember when he came home he had an intense tan, was speaking English in a Spanish accent, and I was completely convinced he was now Mexican (because that's how my five year old mind worked).  On top of noticing his change in ethnicity, I noticed a change in the way he carried himself, a change to a person confident in his faith in and testimony of Christ.  I do not remember a whole lot about the boy my cousin was before he served his mission, but upon his return I have always admired the man he became and continues to become.  He was really my first example as to what it was to want to serve the Lord as a missionary and what a blessing it was to do so.  When he came back from his mission, I distinctly remember sitting in the car thinking about these things and how I wanted to be just like him.  I wanted to serve a mission.  I wanted to do all that the Lord needed me to do to help all those I could.  Of course, this was all in a less refined, more toddler-minded process of thinking.  I mean, I was a pretty weird kid, but I wasn't quite at that level of maturity yet.

I had always kept this determination to serve in the back of my mind, but 21 always seemed an age that was so out of reach.  I went on with life as human beings do.  I grew up, I had my trials of faith, I developed my own testimony; and with that development of testimony, I grew more in my desire to share the gospel as a full-time missionary.  I tried to be a missionary by example in my high school where I was the only member and I tried to be a missionary to my friends and family who had fallen away from the church.  I was nowhere near perfect at it, but my desire to share the joy of the gospel of Jesus Christ still burned bright.

So, when the announcement of the age change was made in October 2012, I felt such comfort and gratitude.  I felt the hopes of my five year old self becoming a reality.  I prayed and fasted about it for a couple of months and felt promptings back and forth about going.  I attributed the "don't go" promptings to just me being afraid of my own inadequacies, so I pressed forward.  I told my family and then I told the world of social media.  I felt good about this.  I felt like I was doing what the Lord needed me to do.

Preparing for my mission was one of the most sacred experiences of my life, and suddenly feeling the prompting that that was no longer what the Lord needed me to do was an even more sacred experience.  It is unfortunate that not everyone has seen it this way, but I will be forever grateful that the Lord allowed me to go through this.  He needs me where I am, and I want to strive to be worthy of that call.  I know He loves me more than I could ever imagine.  He cares about me.  He knows my trials and He knows my faith.  He knows how I hurt and what I rejoice in.  He has blessed me more than I will ever be able to comprehend in mortality.  I look forward and will strive to prepare for that day when I will see just how much He has blessed me and just how much He was a part of my everyday.  He is always there waiting for me to reach out to Him.  I know it.

The Great Impact of Simple Somethings

I want to tell you about someone named Abinadi.

I may not do justice to this great man's story, but I sure can try.

Abinadi was a faithful servant of the Lord, and like most servants of the Lord, he wanted to share what he had found in knowing the Lord and His goodness -- he wanted to share the joy that can only come through the gospel of Jesus Christ.  Unfortunately, those the Lord needed him to share the gospel with were not so keen on gaining said joy.  They didn't want to hear this craziness about how they were an iniquitous people and how they would suffer if they did not repent.  They were prideful.  They thought they were on top of the world where nothing could touch them.  They weren't doing anything wrong.  They were just perfect the way they were.

Shortly thereafter, their oh-so-great-but-not-actually-so-great king, King Noah, heard about this blasphemous Abinadi and his preposterous prophecies.  He more or less took an "Off with his head!" sort of approach to the situation.  Abinadi fled, but a couple years later came back in disguise to continue his efforts to help these people.  The people continued to stick up their noses at him and continued in their desire to have him killed.  To add fuel to the hate-fire, Abinadi added to his prophecies that their "perfect" king would experience death by fire.  That was no beuno in the eyes of the people.  They brought this man to the king and told the king of  his irreverence.

The wicked king and the evil priests of his court showed no mercy.  They interrogated Abinadi.  They sought to make a liar out of him.  They sought to make him dig himself into a hole from which he could not escape.

They did not know who they were dealing with.

The priests barely got a moment to get their hole-digging shovels ready.  Having the Lord on his side, Abinadi knew what these guys were up to.  So, he turned the tables on them.  He questioned them about the doctrine they were supposed to be teaching their people.  He scolded them for not leading by example.  He told them about all the ways they were walking their people down a path that will lead to nothing but destruction.

They knew he was right, so of course they didn't want to listen.  They tried to seize him to finally end all this talk of their failings.  They couldn't touch him, though.  The Lord was not done speaking through him.  He continued to tell them of their wrongdoings, but he also told them about this wonderful thing, this wonderful person that they were denying their people the honor, the privilege of knowing -- the Promised Messiah.

He quotes the words of Isaiah:

3 He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief; and we hid as it were our faces from him; he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

4 Surely he has borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows; yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted.

5 But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

6 All we, like sheep, have gone astray; we have turned every one to his own way; and the Lord hath laid on him the iniquities of us all.

He spoke of Christ's healing, saving Atonement.  He spoke of the lost people we would be if Christ was not coming.  This was before Christ's time, but he spoke of Him in the present.  He spoke of how the coming Atonement should be just as much a part of their lives in that time as it would be in the moment of its happening.  He spoke of the joy that we can experience because of this humble, loving Christ if we follow His teachings.

He spoke of many more beautiful things that I encourage each of you to read, but his story ends shortly thereafter.  Once he was finished speaking with love and warning in his voice, King Noah ordered for his execution by fire, but a remarkable thing happened.

Before Abinadi was to face the flames, one of King Noah's priests, Alma, spoke up.  He pled with the king that he may have mercy upon Abinadi.  Unlike the other priests, Alma had opened his heart to the words of Abinadi and had felt the warm confirmation of their truth through the Holy Ghost.  King Noah just became angrier, of course, and ordered Alma to be slain as well.  Alma got away luckily, and Abinadi proceeded to his execution with the same boldness of faith he had had in facing his executioner.

I have been thinking a lot about Abinadi as I have been preparing for my mission.  It would seem not much came of his efforts.  That is the farthest thing from the truth.  In his short life, in this short mission he embarked on, Abinadi turned the heart of Alma.  It is because of Abinadi that Alma had a change of heart and was able to turn the hearts of so many afterward.  It is because of Abinadi that Alma became a great prophet and that his son, Alma the younger's story of miraculous repentance came to be.  It is because of Abinadi that Alma the younger too became a great prophet, as well as many after him.

Abinadi affected a life that affected and continues to affect the lives of so, so many.

For some reason I have heard a lot of people lately talking about their greatest fear being not leaving some sort of impact on the world.  I like to think our very existence leaves an impact on the world.  We will have countless amounts of acquaintances and so many friends throughout our lives.  Each of those friends and acquaintances take something from knowing us, and we from them.  We give those somethings to others and they give those somethings to someone else and so on and so forth.  Heavenly Father places each person that is in our lives in our lives for a specific reason.  He knows each of us perfectly and knows who we need and who needs us.  He placed bold and brave Abinadi in the lion's den that was King Noah's court because He knew his lost sheep, Alma, needed to hear Abinadi's witness of the Lord's love.  He knew Alma needed to hear and know so that so many others could hear and know.  He did not intend Abinadi's death to be for nothing.

I myself have feared not being able to turn the heart of someone, anyone to Christ while I am on my mission, but even before or after my mission.  I have feared my lack of impact, but in rereading Abinadi's story I have reached this new reality of understanding.  I have come to understand that both on my mission and in my everyday everyone is there for me to impact.  The passing stranger with their head hanging low will be impacted by my smile, the stressed out friend will be impacted by my listening for longer than my heavy eyelids want me to, the lost sheep I will come across in my mission will be impacted in some way by my reaching out to them and boldly, lovingly telling them of Christ as Abinadi did.

My impact might not seem as great as one that stems from martyrdom or baptizing 204 souls at a time as Alma did upon escaping the courts of King Noah, but I know those simple somethings that I pass on to others and that they pass on to me are a part of the greater something that is our Heavenly Father's plan of happiness.  They are a part of His bringing us back to our heavenly home if we let them be.  If we choose to make those somethings somethings that uplift and encourage; somethings that bring others and ourselves closer to the joy and peace that only Christ can bring.

It is my greatest wish and my most earnest prayer that my impact of somethings will be one that Heavenly Father will be proud of; one that will evoke the words we all wish to hear some day...

Well done thou good and faithful servant.

Fear and Weakness

I finished my mission papers at the beginning of this week and now I am stuck in that waiting game of anxiously wanting to attack the mail man and rip my call from his hands.

Since the announcement of the age change for missionaries last October, I have felt such a love from my Heavenly Father and Savior as I have continually prayed and fasted to know if the path They want for me includes an 18-month mile of a mission.  Since October it was a quiet but powerful yes, but Satan kept placing doubts in my heart, making me afraid of my inadequacies.  Once Christmas rolled around, I still had kept the internal struggle between the Lord and me.  It must have been the Spirit of Christ in the air at that time of year that made me want to live with the conviction of the phrase Fear is the opposite of faith.  As I have vocalized my decision to serve a mission, Heavenly Father has placed so many words in the mouths of those around me and in my own mind and heart that have strengthened that conviction and given greater clarity to the fact that it is not me that is going on a mission, but me as a representative of Christ.  It will not be me stumbling over my words, it will be the Spirit speaking through me.

What I have really come to know and understand for myself is that Heavenly Father does not want the perfect to go out to teach the gospel of Jesus Christ.  He wants His imperfect children to teach His imperfect children.  He wants them to develop a Christ-like love for one another, even with the flaws and weaknesses that come with mortality.  He wants them to understand the power of a humble heart with a willingness and a desire to serve.  He wants them to learn from their weaknesses and help those weaknesses become strengths.  He wants to help their heavy hearts and heal their mortal wounds as they are lifting others and helping them to do the same.  Most of all, though, He wants them to always know that He is there, always ready and wanting to help.  He is always hanging on the edge of His seat, waiting for us to reach for His outstretched hand.  He wants so much to guide us where we need to go to find the greatest happiness.  We need only ask.


Your Father in heaven knows your name and knows your circumstance. He hears your prayers. He knows your hopes and dreams, including your fears and frustrations. And He knows what you can become through faith in Him. - Elder Jeffrey R. Holland

Change of Plans

I love BYU.  It has been an absolutely amazing experience thus far being amongst people who know and believe the same things I do.  I have an amazing group of friends that I spend almost 24/7 with.  I have a job that keeps me afloat.  I've said it before, and I'll say it again, Heavenly Father knows me better than I know myself.  He knew that I would be happier and more challenged here than at any other school, and I am so happy for that.

That being said, there is always a bit of pressure being in a mostly LDS environment.  I mean, I'm not a heathen or anything, but there can sometimes be a cloud of judgement hanging over people's heads when you mention you had to finish that one essay on a Sunday.  I don't let any of this get to me or anything, but that's just a little picture I want to paint for you for what I want to talk about.

Recently, through revelation given to the Prophet, Thomas S. Monson, the church has changed things up a bit.  Until October 2012, the age at which one could become a missionary was 19 for boys and 21 for girls.  It was announced in the last General Conference -- after much prayer and revelation through Latter-day prophet, seers, and revelators -- that the ages would be changed to 18 for boys and 19 for girls.

Missions have always been an optional thing for girls.  Not that their testimonies are less important, but a more educationally-based route is encouraged for young women of the church.  Young men need that experience more to develop in their strength of testimony and their priesthood -- all things that are a different topic for a different time.  Of course many young women hopped on the bandwagon right quick.  I think the sheer power of what we all had witnessed that day was enough to turn any heart to want to be a missionary.  We just experienced powerful modern-day revelation.  It was a huge testimony-builder, even if people's plans for a mission were not going to change.  However, I did not want to be one so caught up in the moment as to mistake that testimony-builder for a prompting of needing to go on a mission myself.  It sounds awful when I think about it now, but that's what it was.

For a long, long time I have been praying about it and searching the scriptures for answers.  I kept getting promptings that went back and forth -- go, don't go, go, don't go.  To be honest, though, I think it was a "go" this whole time.  I was just scared.  I was scared of my inadequacies and my lack of perfection.  I was scared I would be going for the wrong reasons.  I was scared to fail my Heavenly Father and my Savior who have given me so much.  Then I realized They have given me so much.  Whenever I have asked and been worthy, They have made up for my inadequacies and imperfections.  When I have put my trust in Them, I have never failed.  Going for Them is why I would be going, and that is the right reason to go.

Come March I will be starting my mission papers.  I will be putting my life on hold for 18 months to share the gospel of Jesus Christ with my brothers and sisters in some part of the world.  I will not be leaving until some time between August and January, but I am more and more excited each day.  I am so very grateful for this opportunity.

My Temple

Yesterday, I had the blessing and privilege of going to the Orlando temple with the youth of my home stake.  The project for the youth of the stake this year was to do some genealogy work and find a name that has not had their temple work done.  The big sha-bang of a finale was this temple trip, during which the youth who had been working on their genealogy would be able to take those names that they found to the temple and start the temple work for their ancestor.

It was an early start to a morning.  I woke up at the unholy hour of 4:15am to leave at 5:15am.  We got to the stake center across the street from the temple around 7:45am, which is impeccable timing considering Orlando's crazy traffic at every hour of the day.*

There, at the stake center, the temple president gave a talk about symbols of the temple.  After that, we broke off in to three groups.  One went to the temple to do baptisms, one stayed behind to play games related to family history and other church-related things, and the third did a temple grounds tour of sorts.

It was a long day, but it was amazing nonetheless. As awesome as the Provo temple is, the Orlando temple will always hold a special place in my heart.  It is the first temple I ever set foot in.  It is the temple where I have received so many answers to so many prayers.  It is my temple.



For those of you not familiar with the Mormon jargon, temples are sacred places where worthy members of the church, twelve years and older, enter to do work for those who have passed away.**  Work, meaning saving ordinances, such as baptism.  We do not actually go grave-digging and baptize corpses.  That's just nasty.  We believe in the scripture: Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.  We stand in place of those who have passed away, since they no longer have the physical capacity to receive those saving ordinances themselves.  Those who passed away without the gospel deserve the chance to know it and have the opportunity to live eternally with their Heavenly Father, their Savior, and their family, and it is such a blessing to be able to help them on that road to eternal joy.

I love the gospel so much.  It is a gospel of joy, peace, and strength.  It is a gospel of hope.

*Seriously, though.  Once, I was on my way back to Jacksonville at 3am, and I was still stuck in traffic for an hour.

**It is also a place for living worthy members to make sacred covenants and receive sacred ordinances that can only be performed in the temple.

An Angel

There are a lot of women in this world that I aspire to be, but there is one on the other side of the veil that I can only dream of becoming anything like.  A year ago today the most beautiful daughter of God I have ever met returned to her home in Heaven, from from the illness that was a part of her entire life, but that she never let define her life.

I often think of her on my dimmer days; I think of how she quite literally lit up a room.  She was and continues to be the most genuine and caring human being I have ever met.  I cannot even eloquently describe the impact she had on so many in her tiny life here on earth in her tiny earthly body.  It was a privilege I will never truly deserve to have had her in my life to inspire me and to show me what potential I have and how important each and every one of us are.  Her compliments came often and were never insincere. Her laugh was contagious and her testimony was inspiring to say the least.  Sometimes I still go back to my old journals that have notes from her lessons and I cannot help to cry, not because I am saddened, but that I am grateful to have known an angel.

I know she is bringing about her Heavenly Father's work on the other side, just as she did on this side of the veil.  There are days when I miss her so much and I just want to talk to her about everything and nothing all at once, but I know she is safe and I  know she is so very happy.  Heavenly Father blessed me more than I will ever deserve by placing Robin and her husband in my life.  Yet another thing I will be forever indebted to Him for; yet another reason I have to be grateful.

"And Jesus listening can hear,

The songs I cannot sing."

Lead, Kindly Light

This song is ringing true to my heart today.  Our Heavenly Father's view is always greater than ours.  If we just trust Him and put our life in His and Christ's hands, they will lead us to the place that will bring the greatest peace and an amount of joy that is incomprehensible to our mortal view.

My favorite version:



1. Lead, kindly Light, amid th’encircling gloom;
Lead thou me on
The night is dark, and I am far from home;
Lead thou me on
Keep thou my feet; I do not ask to see
The distant scene—one step enough for me.

2. I was not ever thus, nor pray’d that thou
Shouldst lead me on.
I loved to choose and see my path;but now,
Lead thou me on!
I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears,
Pride ruled my will.
Remember not past years.

(3. So long thy pow’r hath blest me, sure it still
Will lead me on
O’er moor and fen, o’er crag and torrent, till
The night is gone.
And with the morn those angel faces smile,
Which I have loved long since, and lost awhile!)