Mormon Monday: Why Mormons Try to be Missionaries

I've decided that from now on, I'm going to have a "Mormon Monday" where I answer questions about why members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints act or believe the way we do.  I thought it was fitting to have this be the first topic.  If you have questions you want me to address, please comment below, and I will definitely answer your questions.

In the Latter-day-Saint (Mormon) faith we are often instructed by our leaders (frequently) to share the gospel with those who haven't yet received it.  I think sometimes, people from other churches don't understand what drives us to do so.

I don't receive tax benefits from sharing the gospel.  I don't have to pay less tithing depending on how many people I help enter the church.  I don't even get a guaranteed place in heaven for doing so.

We try to share the gospel out of love for our brothers and sisters.  We honestly believe that we have something wonderful that would bless the lives of every single person on earth if they would accept it.

Yesterday, we had a wonderful speaker at church.  He was talking to us about Hastening the Work of Salvation (that was the topic).  He said that when we are rushing or in a hurry, it is difficult to feeling the spirit.  I totally agree.  When I am in a rush because I am late for something, I am usually stressed out.  It is hard to listen to any feelings of peace or promptings I may receive from the Spirit.  So, his point wasn't that we should be rushing around trying to share the gospel.  He said that he felt hastening meant to immediately act upon inspiration that we receive from the Holy Ghost. 

I loved that!  Sometimes, I've been nudged by the Spirit to talk to people about the gospel and because I immediately listened, I found out that they had questions that I was able to answer for them.  They were able to understand more about what we believe because I didn't hesitate.

Another speaker shared that for us, helping someone be baptized isn't the personal success.  The success for us should be inviting them to do things with us.  As we give others the opportunity to come and see what our church is about, they are then able to choose whether or not they want to learn more.

Sometimes, even though Mormons are commanded to share the gospel, we are scared to talk about it.  It's not because we don't believe in it with all our hearts.  It's not because we don't think that you would love it too if you gave it a chance.  It's because we are afraid that you will reject it and us.  We are afraid that if we put something out in the open that we hold sacred, we will be repulsed and persecuted by our friends.  

However, I am beginning to learn that if people like me and are my friends, they already like the gospel of Jesus Christ.  The gospel of Jesus Christ is part of me.  They can see it through my actions and by what I do.  If those around me don't dislike me for living the gospel, why would they reject the information that explains why I am the way I am?

It's always a personal choice.  If I offer, and they're not interested, that doesn't mean they hate me.  It simply means that they have chosen a different path for now.

Another speaker said something fantastic that I also wanted to share.  He said, "We need to be offering something that is worth more than what we're asking people to give up."

The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day-Saints does require a lot from its members.  However, we believe that it is the true church of Christ on the earth.  Christ is our head, it is not a man-made church.  We believe that it isn't the church that is requiring those things of us, but God himself.  In return for keeping God's commandments, we are blessed more than we can imagine.

There are a lot of sacrifices that Heavenly Father asks me to make, but in return He offers me everything that is pure and holy.  When I give up a pittance to gain a kingdom, where is the sacrifice?  And why wouldn't I want my brothers and sisters (everyone else on this Earth) to be there with me?

So, that is why we Mormons share the gospel.  That's why so many of our young men and women are serving full-time (two year long) missions that they are paying for themselves.  It is a commandment from God, yes, but it is because He loves all his children and wants them to have the same blessings that we are receiving.  When we view it from the same light, we are offering our most precious possession to those who don't have it yet.

The gospel of Jesus Christ has brought me so much joy in my life.  It has sealed my forever to my husband and children.  If I continue to remain faithful throughout my life, I will be with my family forever.  I have peace in my life because I know that regardless of how wicked the world becomes, I am on the Lord's side, and if I continue my current path, everything will turn out all right in the end.  That's a great comfort when the whole world seems to be going to pot.  I want those around me to experience that same peace.  It is your choice to accept or reject what we are offering.  However, if I don't tell you what I believe, how will you know whether or not you want it?

That is why I am a missionary for my church and will be until the day I die.

This picture is from when I was a full-time missionary

Sugar: I Used to Love It

My Favorite Candy

When I was a kid, I craved sugar all the time.  It wasn't so bad at first, but as I went through high school, the craving grew worse.

I'm going to tell you some kind of gross stuff I used to do, but don't worry, there is a point.

I could eat an entire jumbo bag of Wint-O-Green Lifesavers in a couple hours.  While I ate that, I would alternate eating a couple cans of Sour Cream and Onion Pringles.  In four or five hours, while reading a good book, I could eat all three packages.  Gross, huh?

It got worse.  Sometimes, I would crave sugar so much that I would go upstairs, get a 1/4 cup of sugar and just eat it.

As I neared my senior year, my appetite just increased.  I could sit down, devour an entire medium pizza, stand up and be hungry again.  It seemed as though I was never satiated. 

I didn't worry about it too much.  After all, I was a teenager.  We were renowned for eating a lot.  However, I forgot that I had stopped growing when I was in eighth grade.

Finally, during my senior year, I began to gain weight.  Which was ridiculous because I led a super-active lifestyle. We went to doctor to see if something was wrong.  The doctor had a theory.  They decided to have me return the following day for some tests.

I was asked to drink a super nasty, syrupy drink.  Then for the next few hours, they would take my blood every hour or so.  The drink was gross.  I liked sugar, but not that much.

A few days later, they had the results back.

I had insulin resistance.

The doctor informed me that if I didn't cut back on my sugar intake, that I would have diabetes within ten years.  They gave me a medicine to help my insulin, and then advised me to eat more protein with my carbohydrates. 

Since then, several years have passed.  Since my pregnancy, I haven't been on the drug anymore.  However, I still don't crave sugar like I once did.  In fact, my husband sometimes tells me that I don't eat enough of it. I still like cookies, mints, and Pringles, but I now get tired of them.  Candy that used to last me hours lasts me days, and sometimes weeks.

The best thing of all?  I now feel full after I eat, and the feeling lasts.  I am so grateful that I was able to get my insulin resistance under control when we did.  I am nearing my decade mark, and I don't think I'll be getting diabetes anytime soon.  I didn't have it when I was pregnant, and that was a huge blessing.

Why did I write this blog?  It is meant to be a warning.  If you, or someone you love is experiencing sugar cravings like I did or doesn't ever feel full after eating, it might be worth it to take them to the doctor.  Insulin resistance is better than diabetes, and much more manageable.  If you are gaining weight and it is really difficult to lose, get checked out.  This is a completely preventable thing.

I used to really love sugar.  Now, I just like it, and I'm much happier for it.

Kids are Honest, Yet Tactless...and Sometimes So Am I

My dad took this picture

Lately, we've been having some after-school company.  I have a friend who is going through some struggles right now.  She's a single mother with three girls.  Everyday she has to work long hours to provide for her young family.  So, often, the two oldest daughters get home from school before she gets home from work.  They can't afford to have internet right now, and so the two daughters have started coming to our house everyday after school to use ours.

This new experience has reminded me of a funny fact:

Kids are honest, yet tactless.

The daughters are 11 and 9.  (The youngest one is 2, so she is at daycare during the day.)  The girls are very nice and we usually have a lot of fun when they come.  However, some of the things that they say to us crack me up.

For example:  my brother-in-law Havelock uses chapstick (Bert's Beewax to be exact) quite regularly.  The other day, he was putting it on while they were here and one of them looked at him and asked, "What, do you just play with that?"  It was kind of funny.  He handled it well.  He over-emphasized application in jest, and then said, "No, I just have chronically dry lips."

It reminded me of another time when I was working for a veterinarian.  Her daughter was really sweet, and we got along swimmingly.  At the time, however, I was having a bit of an acne problem.  One day, when I came to work, the daughter looked at me and asked, "What are those red dots all over your face?"

Children often say the things that we are all thinking, but that we are too polite or nervous to say.  They have no qualms about the impact of their words, and no ill intentions.  Children often ask questions that leave us feeling super awkward.

One time, in church I was in charge of a group of three-year-olds.  One little girl was African American.  Another child asked me why her skin was black.

Flustered by the question, and not sure how to answer it, I said the first thing that came to mind.

"No it's not."  Obviously not the right thing to say, and the little black girl quickly corrected me.

"Yes, it is," she said.

Then, trying to repent of my stupidity, I then tried to explain to the other child that everyone has different skin colors.

I still roll my eyes at my initial response though.  That was the wrong thing to say for so many reasons.

Children aren't trying to offend others, and usually they don't.  Generally we all understand that they are simply young enough that they don't recognize when something they say can be offensive.  Usually adults recognize that and choose not to be offended. 

I've said a lot of things in my day that were never intended to be offensive.  One time, I told a classmate of mine that I liked her 'dog-collar.' She was wearing one of those leather-bands around her neck that had spikes coming out of it. I was being genuine and trying to give her a compliment.  She was intensely offended. I apologized later when someone told me I had hurt her feelings, but I was also confused.  I actually still am.  I don't know what else you would call that kind of neck accessory. 

I'm afraid that I still lack some of the social tact that is acceptable among good society.  There are many famous stories in my family about how I said something to someone, meaning it as a compliment and it was extraordinarily offensive.

Here are a few examples that I said to my grandmother:

"Grandma, you smell like a grandma."

"Someday, I'm going to dye my hair, just like yours."

And finally, my best ever:

I was explaining to my grandma about diabetic cats.  (My grandma also has diabetes.)  I told her that you can always tell when a cat has diabetes because they will have to use the bathroom more often, their hair will begin to fall out, and they get really fat.

In jest, my grandma replied, "So, like me then."

I responded, "No, grandma, your hair isn't falling out."

I think I tried to rectify it, but it was too late.  We still laugh about that one to this day.  Luckily, my grandma has a great sense of humor.

I think often, like children, other people say things to us that are not offended to be offensive.  However, sometimes, we choose to be offended.

If I've ever said something to offend you, I'm truly sorry. I actually can count on one hand the number of times I've deliberately tried to offend someone, and usually it was a sibling.  I felt really bad about it later.  Hurting other people's feelings is something that I have desire to do. In fact, I usually go out of my way NOT to offend others. Unfortunately, I don't always have good social conduct.

In another instance when I was in high school, there was a girl who'd recently moved away from our school.  She was in my older brother's grade.  She saw me a while after she'd moved and she asked in kind of a casual way if my brother missed her.

Being clueless, yet intending no harm, I joked that he was glad she was gone.  Yes, maybe that was super rude to say, but I was intending it to be humorous.  I liked to tease people, and I didn't always recognize the fact that others didn't always know that I was joking.

This girl went home and, in tears, told her father that my brother hated her.  My brother ended up receiving an angry phone call from the father about his rudeness to his daughter.  My brother was super confused, and I felt awful.  I hadn't realized that she didn't realize I was joking.  Or that she really cared what my brother thought.

So, when other people say things to me that could be interpreted as rude, I usually assume that they misspoke and they weren't really trying to offend me.  That way, I don't take offense very easily, and even if they WERE trying to offend me, they won't succeed. Why allow others to hit you with verbal darts?  I choose to turn those darts into flowers, and thus they have no sting.

I have a choice about whether or not I'm going to be offended by what others say.  So, I choose not to be.

I'm far happier for it.

Why Twilight's Not So Bad

When I got off my mission, I was excited to watch some of the movies that I'd been missing.  One of the movies I watched was the new Twilight movie that had came out a few months previous.  At the time, I didn't think it was that horrible.  After all, I hadn't seen movies in a year and a half, so it seemed okay to me.  However, since then, I've come to realize that the movies are really not quality entertainment.  This post actually isn't about the movies, but about the books themselves.  The movies have some pretty horrible acting, and the characters all look like they need more sleep.  I'm not going to address the movies, but the quality of the books.

This may be an interesting post for me to write, especially after last month's Harry Potter spiel.  After all, the Harry Potter books are much better than the Twilight ones, right?  Probably.

However, today I'm standing up in defense of books that I don't really like, just because they've gotten a lot worse publicity than they actually deserve.

My sister really like Twilight when it first came out.  She told me that I needed to read the books, because they were fantastic!  Reluctantly I agreed.  Understand, I'm not a big fan of romance books.  However, even though all the teen-angst and drama was wearying to me, I still had a hard time putting down the book.  Especially after I got halfway through it.  Suddenly, the action kicked in, and I had a really hard time putting it down.  I ended up finishing it in just a few hours.  Still, I was reluctant to admit that I liked it because it was such a 'girly' book.

I read the second one eventually as well.  I haven't read the other two, but maybe someday I will.  Here's the thing.  Stephanie Meyers isn't a bad writer.  In fact, if a book is difficult to put down, it means that the person is an excellent writer.  I don't even like romance, and I had a difficult time disengaging from it.

Stephanie Meyer was trying to introduce a different kind of vampire.  Vampires have almost always been allusions of sexual desire.  I've never read Anne Rice, but I hear that she capitalizes on that as well.  Stephanie Meyer wanted to show that acting upon our desires is always a matter of choice.  In the vampires in her books' case, there were several kind of desires that the characters were managing.  I appreciate what she was trying to do with her books.  I agree with her.

Some people didn't like the non-traditional version of vampires that were in her books.  They claim that they were 'unvampirelike.'  What does that even mean?  Vampires are fictional.  They have been around for centuries, but every author whose every written about them has changed them to suit their own needs.  There is not a set parameter on what vampires should look like.  If Stephanie Meyers wants to make her vampires sparkle in sunlight instead of turning to dust, who am I to argue.  We might make fun of it, but it is still legal.

Stephanie Meyer came up with a concept that was supremely successful.  A lot of less successful authors criticize her works and her writing style.  However, she succeeded in capturing the hearts of a lot of young people.  Doesn't that speak for itself?  Writing is as much a gamble as anything.  You never know if your book is going to be successful.  However, she won the gamble.  (And yes, J.K. Rowling did as well.  Maybe I'm just jealous.)

If you haven't read her first book and you are an acute hater of Twilight and her other creations, try to read it before you say you hate it.  Yes, the movies were pretty awful, but like all movies, they didn't really follow along with all the aspects of the books.  The books described the vampires in a way that did kind of make you want to meet them.  Even if they did sparkle.

Like I said, I haven't finished reading the series, but from what I've read, it's okay.  She was trying to portray her morals into a concept that has long been the opposite.  For that, she has received quite a bit of gruff.  I take my hat off to her for trying though.  She's been quite successful.

So, that's why I think Twilight's not so bad.  Tell me what you think.

Why Do We Fear the Homeless?

The situation:

You are walking toward a corner where you know a homeless person is standing.  They are holding a sign.  As you approach, you wonder frantically how you should handle the situation.  Should you just ignore them?  Avert your eyes?  Or should you give them something?  The feelings of dread and uncertainty fill you.  What should you do?

Nine times out of ten, people probably just avert their eyes and keep on walking.  To be honest, I feel really bad doing this, but I often do it too.

Why is it that we are so scared of homeless people?  What is it that makes us avoid them like plague-victims?

I've been thinking about this lately.

The other day, I was walking home from Wal-mart with my baby on my shoulder.  Ahead on the corner, was a man holding a sign that said, "Fallen upon hard times, please help."  I didn't have anything to give him and so I was a little nervous about what he would do or say as I approached.  I was carrying Kevin, and as I approached I was balancing on the curb edge, because there wasn't a sidewalk.

As I approached the man, he said to me, "You have good balance." 

I smiled as him and said, "Thank you."  Then, Kevin waved at him, and we continued on after telling him to have a good day.

I was a little bit surprised.  He was a really nice, funny man.  I think that sometimes we forget that.  I certainly did.   

Grig is really good about wanting to help those in need.  When we were leaving a different Wal-mart another day, there was a lady with a sign that said, "Diabetic, just lost my job."  We had an extra loaf of bread, and so we gave it to her.  She seemed really grateful.

 On my mission in Texas, we often would see homeless people on the highway corners by the stoplights.  If we had extra food, we would offer it to them.  We sure didn't have money.  I, and Grig, have always tried to make it a policy to never give money to homeless people.  If they won't accept food, they're really not that desperate.  I have seen people claiming to be in need of help, that throw food back at people who offered it to them.  They just want money.

Yesterday, my youngest brother and I were walking around a city, and we had to pass a corner where a lady was standing with a sign several times.  Every time, my brother would move to my side as far from the lady as possible.  Then, he expressed fear when we would have to go in that direction.  It set me to thinking about why we have such a fearful stigma.  This is what I decided.

1- They sometimes look dirty or scary  

I think this might be why my brother was so frightened of them.  Their appearance is usually unkempt, and they don't usually look very happy.  There is a good reason for this.  Those who are actually homeless don't have very much access to showers.  However, I have heard of some scammers who apply makeup and old clothes to help instigate the 'pity vibe'.  This is where people feel sorry for them because they look so terrible.   So, this one can cause fear or pity.

2- We're afraid they'll ask us for money or we feel bad, but don't know how to help

This is often the one that I feel the most.  A lot of times, we don't have money to give, or we're afraid that they're scammers or drug-addicts.  Either way, we don't want to give them money if they don't really need it.  That's why food is such a good option.  If they really need it, it's a way you can help without possibly contributing to another problem for them.  It also helps illuminate the ones who aren't really in need of assistance.  

If I don't have food on me, I feel bad about it, and I still want to help.  However, because I have no way to do so, I don't want to look at them or have them focus on me.   Therefore aversion is a common solution.  If I don't look at them, they won't notice me not looking at them.

I think this is the worse thing we can do.  They are still people, and a smile can go a long way.  I try to always tell them to have a good day and smile at them.  However, there is the risk that they will think I'm mocking them, and that worries me too.  Mostly, I just try to treat them as human beings.

3- We are afraid of becoming like them

I think this might be the deep-set reason in most of us.  When we see the people on the street, on some level, we might fear that eventually we'll become like that.  They probably had jobs at one time, families, and everything was probably going great.  Then, suddenly they lost their job, their family broke up, and they're on the street.  It could happen to anyone.  I think sometimes we see the homeless, and we see a future that we don't even want to consider.

And perhaps, that's the real reason they scare us so much. 

So, smile at them.  Give where you can, but be careful.  Try to avoid money.  Serving at a food bank or a similar place is a much better option than handing out money on the street.  Sometimes I wish I could offer them all jobs, but I don't have the means to do so.  Generally, they're very nice people.  If we give them a chance, they can surprise us. 

Our First Video Blog!

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QhArn3yFgFw

Scary Movies Forget the Most Important Thing

Last night, I had a bad dream.  In my dream, there was a little girl spirit who was evil.  In her life she had murdered four people, including her brother.  She was somewhat safe when she was in the form of a girl, but when she got upset, she would gain all the powers of darkness and attack us.  It was a rather intense dream. 

When I woke up, I was a bit scared, so I began to pray.  That's when the realization hit me.  Why hadn't I done that in the dream?

In horror films, we are so often presented with ghosts and demons, that we don't think about the other side of the coin.  If ghosts and demons are real, doesn't that mean that God is real too? 

As I continued this thought process, I realized that in almost all of the scary movies I had seen that the hero or heroine generally tries to defeat the 'monster' by themselves.  They try to use flesh to overcome their adversary. 

Man is a lot of things, but we are not necessarily light.  We all have both light and darkness to our personalities.  We can only be influenced by dark if we choose to allow darkness into our lives, but the only thing that will truly dispel darkness is light.

Wouldn't horror movies be different if the next time the hero was attacked by an evil spirit, they got down on their knees and prayed for divine protection? 

Part of the reason that scary movies frighten us so much is because they deal with the supernatural, with things that we don't understand and can't fight.  However, we can fight them.  The Adversary only has as much power as we give him.  Light always trumps darkness, and God is stronger than any other power. 

That doesn't mean those powers aren't real.  They are as real as God himself.  However, we have the choice to embrace them or deny them.  If we turn to God, He will give us the power to overcome our trials, tribulations, and temptations.  He will help us when we are frightened and scared. 

One of the most interesting scary movies I've ever watched was The Exorcism of Emily Rose.  It made a lasting impact on my mind.  I haven't seen it since 2005, but I remember that it was a deeply religious movie, and very different from any other film that I had even seen.  Instead of just having shocking and frightening scenes, it delved into the fact that if the Devil is real, then so is God. 

It compared psychosis and epilepsy to demonic possession and posed the question, "Does demonic possession exist, and is it often misdiagnosed as a mental illness?"  I have actually wondered this question myself as I read through the New Testament.  Anyway, in terms of the movie, I think it actually had a very nice, spiritual ending.  It left a good impression on my mind.  I didn't agree with everything that was said, but the intention was good.

In our own lives, we often try to be that hero or heroine that takes on darkness by ourselves.  We think that we are strong enough to stand alone and overcome whatever life can throw at us.  Again I say, the only thing that dispels darkness is light.  The only thing strong enough to overcome the world is our Savior, Jesus Christ.  If we don't turn to him for protection and power, we won't be strong enough to resist the evils of this life. 

These are the thoughts that my dream brought this morning.  I found them interesting, but they also bring up another question.

Do I think too much?  Probably. 

Fashion is Stupid

When I was a kid, I was one of the most awkward things you will ever see.  I had huge glasses that covered half my face, and they were as thick as coke bottles.  I always, except maybe on school picture day, wore my hair in a pony tail.  I wore sweat pants to school, usually of the hot pink or hot orange variety, and I loved baggy t-shirts (that usually clashed with the pants.) 

When I got to Junior High, my father told me that I couldn't wear sweat pants to school anymore.  I was a bit upset.  They were really comfortable!  However, I honored my father's wishes, and to my surprise discovered that jeans could be quite comfortable too, if you could find a pair that actually fit.  I still wore t-shirts, but it's much harder to clash with jeans.  In my eighth grade year, I received contacts, and suddenly I didn't look so bad. 

I've really never cared about fashion.  If someone asked me what the popular trend in clothing is right now, I'd tell you that I really couldn't care.  I'm now in my mid-20's.  I still wear my hair in a ponytail nearly every day.  Due to my c-section, I still have to wear comfortable, stretchy pants because I can't fit into my jeans.  I still prefer t-shirts, and I don't really care if they make me look like a huge pillow.  My personal appearance has never really mattered to me.

However, I do try to make more of an effort to look nice.  I have a friend from South Africa who changed the way that I take care of myself.  She is a really good friend, and she as we were getting to know each other, I realized that she loved me even though I didn't try to look nice.  She, of course, is always gorgeous and wears adorable clothes that accentuate her beauty.  She loved me first, and because of that, I listened to her suggestions.  Just before I roomed with her, I made the decision to get bangs, which made me look less like a boy.  She taught me how to style them so that they looked decent. 

We would go on shopping trips, and she would help me find clothing that was comfortable and cute!  While we were rooming together, I ended up getting my ears pierced.  She helped me feel beautiful, and I did like it.

However, while she was teaching me the finer points of dressing myself, she was also teaching me something else.  She taught me that it still doesn't matter what the current trends are.  She wore what she wanted to wear.  She wore things that made her look good, and she had her own style.  She taught me that cute clothes are always cute, and you don't have to follow fashion in order to be beautiful and feel good about yourself. 

Fashion is always changing.  If you were to try to keep up, you'd bankrupt yourself.  Things that are fashionable don't look good with every body type.  Not everyone, in fact, very few people, look good in a bikini.  Find fashions that work for you.  I don't dress up very often still, but at least I know how to now. 

For me, it's best if the belly fabric is loose.  If it's too tight, it accentuates the wrong kinds of...rolls.  Ruffles don't hurt, and my friend told me to stay away from collared shirts.  My shoulders are too broad for them. 

The other thing that my friend taught me is don't dress up for other people.  Dress up to look good for yourself.  When you look good, you feel good.  She was right.  However, I don't mind looking good for my husband too.  My wonderful husband loves me regardless of what I'm wearing, and I'm grateful for that.  However, he does like it if I occasionally dress up. 

Basically, I guess I'm saying, don't follow fashion.  Things that they are trying to sell you are generally overpriced and don't always go well with different body types.  Find a style that works for you and stick with it.  Cheaper is better.  If it's on sale and it's cute, why not buy it if you have the money?  There are tons of cute clothes that aren't super expensive.  The fashion industry is just out to take your money.  That's why they change fashions so often. 

Heaven forbid we actually wear the same clothes more than once in our lives.

I've never understood fashion, and I probably never will, but thanks to my good friend I at least can make myself look good while staying within our budget.

Fashion is stupid, being beautiful isn't.  Be pretty for you, choose clothes that you like, and find your own style.  We're all unique, why not show it with our clothing?

Crazy Weight Loss Program! I Lost 10 lbs in a Month!

You're not going to believe this.  I didn't, when I heard about it, but this is a true story.  On my new weight loss program, I've lost over ten pounds in one month!  It's the simplest thing I've ever tried, and it works!

My career as a model had been going downhill.  My agent told me that if I didn't lose weight, I was going to only be used for commercials as Bertha the Blue Whale.  I found it very frustrating, and I was having a hard time feeling my inner beauty.

And don't mention those beach parties!  I just didn't feel comfortable strutting my stuff when other people were around.  Sure, if it was a rainy day and everyone else was inside, I didn't mind going out in my bathing suit, but I just couldn't handle it when others were watching.

Finally, though, I found a weight loss program that works for me!  I had heard about it on television, but I didn't believe it would really work.  A friend of mine was going through it, and she told me that if I would give it a try, I would really see results.

They call it the Starving College Student Plan (SCSP).  It's so simple.  Here's how it works:

You don't make very much money and you have a tight budget for groceries.

Sounds too good to be true, right?

Wrong!  I tried it and I saw crazy results!  Grig and I were on such a tight budget that we didn't have money to go out to eat.  It was hard at times, and I really missed fast food, but I can't deny the results. 

Also, we suddenly had to eat more vegetables because we had family who had their own gardens and were giving us free fruits and vegetables.  Our diets improved by 100%.  With all the fresh food and lack of high fat, I found myself feeling better than ever before!  We also began to use our meat sparingly because we couldn't afford to buy it very often either. 

On the SCSP, I didn't see instant results, but as I kept at it, I have begun to lose weight! 

The best part?  You don't even have to be a college student to use this plan.  Simply eat more fruits and vegetables, eat out less often, and eat meat sparingly. 

Oh, yeah.  I forgot one last part.  We also have been trying to exercise more.  A walk here, a jog there, it's not much but it sure adds up!

A healthy diet and a little exercise go a long way.  The SCSP worked for me, and it can work for you too!  Call this number to begin your free trial:

(555) Tnk-Ifny

And yes, I do think I'm hilarious.

(As a side note, I haven't lost as much weight on this plan as I did the Nine-Month-and-a-Baby-Plan (NMAABP), but that plan doesn't work for everyone, so I recommend this one instead.  Though, you do get to lose all the weight in one day, the SCSP doesn't requires you to gain a bunch of weight first before you can lose it.  Plus, those stretch marks are torture!)

:)

The Mink: A Modern Fairy Tale

 

Once upon a time, there was a girl who worked at a zoo.  Her name was Emma.  Emma loved animals, and went out of her way to care for those who she came in contact with. 

The zoo was a wonderful, peaceful place, but just up the river lived a very different kind of place.  It was called a Mink Farm.  The Mink Farm was home to hundreds of small minks, and each spring, when they transferred the baby minks away from their parents, some of the minks escaped and swam downriver to the zoo.

At the zoo, there lived many exotic, expensive birds.  The zoo was poor and humble and couldn't afford to lose any of their birds.  Unfortunately, these small black minks decided that the birds tasted wonderful, and so the edict was decreed.  Anyone who killed a mink would receive a free pizza.

All of the workers at the zoo began to hunt for the lithe creatures, but they were difficult to find and even harder to catch.  Then, one day when Emma and another girl named Felicia were working at the zoo, they found that they had caught one in a live trap.  Its little whiskered face looking through the bars right at her.  Its tiny black eyes were locked onto hers and its black fur framed its tiny fox-like face.  It was a small creature, only about foot long including the tail and very thin.  As she looked at it, it climbed upside down on the bars, its padded feet clasping them as it stared at her.  It was really cute.

Emma and Felicia didn't know what to do.  Neither of them had killed an animal before, but for the protection of the zoo, they knew it needed to be done.  Some people at the zoo preferred drowning the minks, but Emma and Felicia thought that this sounded terrible. 

So, they decided to use the CO2 chamber that the zoo used to put down animals that were injured beyond help.  Gassing sounded a lot more humane than drowning.  

As Emma carried the trap back to the Blue Building where the tank was, she could barely feel any weight from the small carnivore.  The trap tipped slightly as the mink ran back and forth and as she reached the Blue Building, she placed it on the ground instead of going immediately inside and waited for Felicia to arrive.  She felt really bad.  She didn’t want to kill the little guy, but knew if they didn’t, he would just go on killing more of the birds.  The mink wasn’t scared of her at all.  She talked to him gently and he came up to the bars, his little nose and whiskers twitching and he tried to smell her.  After a while, he let out a high pitched squeak that was amazingly loud.  It was almost like he was calling for his mother.  About that time Felicia arrived and they entered the building.  They went to the incubator room where the gas chamber was stored, which was basically one of those plastic boxes with the overlapping lids.  It had a small tube hole in the bottom where the CO2 was attached.  Here was where they faced their first dilemma.

They didn’t know how to get the mink from the trap into the small gas chamber box.  They turned the trap so that the door was facing down into the box and pushed the door in so the mink could come out.  However, the mink simply climbed to the top of the trap.  So, they tried to shake the mink out into the box.  Of course, this upset the mink slightly, so when it finally poured out of the trap, it also poured out of the box and ran and hid behind the fridge-like incubator.  The little guy was like liquid lead.

 Now they were faced with a new dilemma.  They tried various things.  Emma went and got a net and Felicia grabbed a mop and she clanged the mop while Emma sat on the other side with the net ready and waiting.  When the mink came running out, she managed to get the net over it.  However, the next thing she knew, the mink was back behind the fridge.  Baffled, they tried again.  After the second time, they took a look at their net and found that it had a large hole in it.  So, they went and got another net.  At that point, Emma started talking to it and to her surprise, it began to come out to the sound of her voice.   She felt very deceitful as she smooth talked the mink out from behind the incubator.  Like a princess, the sound of her voice lulled the creature into coming toward her.  They managed to get him in the new net twice that way, only to discover that this new one had holes in it as well. 

 They went and got the third and final net.  It appeared to be hole-less, but they weren’t as trusting this time.  Felicia left for a while to go see if she could trap another mink which had shown up in Pond 3, and Emma tried to get the mink to come out again.  He came out most of the way a couple more times, but he had learned his lesson.  Then, after looking around a bit, Emma discovered that Felicia could put a pole behind the fridge and push the mink toward her if she crouched on top of the other incubator next to the fridge-like incubator.  She called her back to come help her and she did so.  They managed to catch him a couple more times, only to have him slip out of holes they hadn’t seen.  So, they took masking tape and sealed the net off completely.  The next time they caught him, he held.
 
 At which point they faced the next dilemma.  The top of the net was bigger than the box.  There was really no good way that they knew of to get the mink into the gas box.  In the attempt, he escaped again.  They tried twice more, only to have him finally escape and run to the other side of the very small room, where he trapped himself in a corner behind plexiglass and cardboard.  They then had a much smaller net and they seized upon this chance immediately.  They blocked off the exit except for the net and Emma brought the pole down through the top and he ran right into the small net.  At which point, they placed the gas box upside down over him and let him out of the net into the gas box.
 
 One of the overlapping tops was under the box while the other was not.  They now had another problem of how to flip the box over and close the lid.  After thinking for a minute, Emma took a board and slowly pushed it under the box.  Then, holding it tightly over the opening, they pulled the box upright, with the cardboard effectively sealing the exit.  Then they removed the cardboard and shut the lid, trapping the poor terrified mink in the box.  They were both sweating and tired, and the mink which had so far only hissed at them suddenly began a repeat performance of the squeak it had done outside.  Only in repetition this time.  The loud squeaks, which were startlingly similar to a hawks shrieks, but louder, rang in their ears.  After a while he stopped though, and ran around the mostly see-through box, his face following our hands as they moved the box around to the CO2 tank.  They then attached the hose and figured out how to turn it on.  Now they knew why some of the others just drowned them in the traps. 

They left the room at that point.  When they came back ten minutes later, the small mink lay unmoving on his side in the box.  They turned off the tank.  It was a very depressing moment.  As cute as the minks are though, they are highly dangerous creatures.  As the night person came that night he told them that he placed plastic bags over the wire opening and taped the hose directly to the trap and just gassed it in there.  They decided he was a genius.

Though the ending of the mink was quite tragic, the birds survived and the zoo lived happily ever after. The two workers were awarded with pizza coupons and they lived long and happy lives.

The moral of the story?  I'm not sure.  Maybe it's

Sometimes when we try to be kind, we end up causing more agony to everyone. 


That doesn't seem right though.


Or...

Don't gas a mink.

Yes, that's probably it.  

Early to Bed, Early to Rise...Actually Isn't So Bad

Me, as a night-owl.

 Anyone who has ever lived with me can tell you, I'm not really a morning person.

When I was a kid, my siblings never wanted to be the one to come wake me up.  If someone disturbed my sleep (unless it was Dad or Mom) I was wrath unleashed!  I come up swinging, something I'm not very proud of.  Really, no one should have had to wake me up.  I should have been able to do it on my own.  The problem is that when I do sleep, I'm a very deep sleeper.

I've never really needed that much sleep.  When I was a baby, my parents would tell me stories about how I would only take one nap a day, and a very short, trying nap at that.  My mom likes to tell me about how she would walk around for over an hour trying to get me to fall asleep.  Finally, I would drift off.  She would try to lay me down, and I would wake up re-energized!  My short nap was sufficient.  At least I slept well at night.

As I grew older, it was literally impossible for me to over-sleep.  I remember coming upstairs crying on numerous occasions because I had been laying in bed for hours and I just couldn't fall alseep.  That, along with several other factors, convinced me that it was better to just stay up reading.  I began to get less sleep, and then falling asleep became much easier.  I also became more of a night-owl.  It only got worse in college.

In my first two years of college, I averaged four hours of sleep a night.  Crazy, huh?  That means sometimes I got around two and sometimes around six.  I actually did quite well on that, except for the occasional class that I slept through.

During my mission, I got on a better schedule.  As a missionary, you are required to go to bed at 10:30 p.m. and wake up at 6:30 a.m.  I would go to bed, but I couldn't always fall asleep.  Sometimes I'd lay there for a few hours before I'd drift off.  Even exhausted from working all day, sleep sometimes is a challenge.

When I finished my mission, I got right back to my old sleep schedule.  In college for a while, I was the last one to sleep and the first one awake.  My attempts to help myself go to sleep earlier included always having a 7:45 a.m. class.  That way, I would usually go to bed at least by 2:00 a.m.

With my first year of marriage, things were slightly better.  Unfortunately, Grig is also a night-owl, and often we would stay up late together.  Sometimes, on a really bad night, we would fall asleep around 4:00 a.m.  However, we tried to set goals to go bed by midnight.

After we had Kevin, we did begin to go to bed around midnight.  Kevin however, also seems to require a little less sleep than most babies (but not as little as me, thank goodness).  He's always been a good night sleeper, but he would stay up until midnight with us,and then wake up around 8:30.  It worked for a while.

Then, Grig got a new job.  His job begins at either 4 or 5:00 in the morning.  That means I have to wake up at 3 or 4 a.m. in order to make him breakfast.  (This is an entirely voluntary thing.  Grig has told me on numerous occasions that I don't actually have to do that, but I like being able to see him in the morning, and it helps him get to work on time if I help make breakfast and lunch.) 

We are now going to bed anytime from 8-9:30.  That's the earliest I've ever gone to bed in my life.  We consistently go to bed early and wake up early.  Strangely, I'm beginning to realize that I like it.

All my life, I thought people were crazy for getting up this early.  Right now, it's 4:27 a.m. and I'm blogging.  Kevin is asleep and I'm all alone.  It's quiet outside and even the crickets are sleeping.  I have time to think and relax before the day begins.

Occasionally, I go back to bed after Grig leaves, but usually I try to stay up and I'm finding that I enjoy waking up early more each morning.  Sometimes on weekends, when Grig doesn't have work, he and I revert to our old habits.

However, we are both finding that Early to Bed and Early to Rise really isn't such a bad thing after all.

Go figure.

Puppies vs. Babies

Which is Better?

Lately, I've really been wanting to get a puppy.  

Really, like, a lot. 

However, though our housing situation would allow it, we currently we can't afford one.  Since puppies have been on my mind so much, I've been thinking about when I first gave birth to Kevin.  Afterward, my dad, who knows how much I like dogs, kept asking me the same question over and over.

"Isn't he much better than a puppy?"

Okay.  Obviously the answer is yes.  However for those of you who've never had a baby, I would like to tell you my reasons why.  Those of you who have had children, let me know your thoughts on the matter.

When I was in High School, one summer I decided to breed my dog and raise a litter of puppies.  It was a really good experience, and I really enjoyed it.  However, comparing that experience to my current situation of being a mother brings up some interesting differences and similarities. 

Yes, I did draw these pictures.

Newborns:

 

 

A Short Thought on Poop

Let's face it.  Newborn animals of any variety aren't very cute.  They come out all slimy and wrinkly, and generally have very little hair.  Newborn puppies are fairly easy for humans to take care of.  We just let the mom handle it.  However, newborn puppies are incapable of defecating on their own.  In order to keep the puppies alive and healthy, the mother dog has to lick them to stimulate their bowel movements.  Then, to add to that, she eats the puppy poo so that the smell won't attract predators.  As nasty as that seems to us, to a dog it's a natural part of being a mother. 

I'm really glad we don't have to do that.  A lot of people will complain about changing diapers, but after watching how animals take care of their babies' poop, diapers don't seem so bad.  Babies are also able to poop on their own as soon as they are born, which is an advantage in the evolutionary side of things.   Babies diapers are also not very stinky when they are newborns.  You have to change them pretty frequently, but it really isn't that much trouble and you get used to it quickly.  

Nursing

Nursing puppies is quite easy as well, if you're the human.  The mother dog usually does all the work again.  There is the rare situation when a human has to take over, and then it can be a major pain!  You have to get up and bottle feed the pups every two hours.  That can really cut into your sleep schedule.  Luckily, my dog Dakota was a fantastic mom.  She took great care of her pups.  She ended up having eight of them, and all of them survived until they went to their new homes.  Can you imagine having eight babies at one time?  I can't.  One is plenty thank you, and I'm still learning how to deal with one.

When someone first handed Kevin to me, I looked down and thought, "What do I do with this?" 

Don't get me wrong.  I've been around babies my entire life.  I have six younger siblings and I spent a lot of my teenaged years babysitting my siblings and other children.  I'm no novice when it comes to taking care of babies.  However, none of that even remotely prepared me for nursing my own baby.  It doesn't come entirely naturally.  However, once you and the baby figure it out, it is a rather peaceful thing.  There is a connection you feel with that baby that is unlike any other relationship I've ever had.  

When my dog had puppies, I felt proud and I loved them.  I took good care of them and I wanted them to have good homes.  However, the bond I have with my baby isn't even close to the same.  Grig and I made Kevin (with a lot of help from Heavenly Father).  He is our baby.  He is part of us and we are part of him.  I've loved my dogs, but the love I feel for Kevin transcends that love and makes it look trivial.  

Nursing has nurtured that bond as well.  I love putting him down for a nap and feeling connected to him.  Puppy-love just doesn't come close.

Infants:

Development

Babies change fast.  Even now, nine-months after Kevin was born, I can't believe how fast time has gone.  Everyday it seems like he learns something new.  He's already walking and running, and I some days I miss the little baby who would just lay on my chest.  Kevin only does that if he is asleep now or very, very tired.  Otherwise, he is constantly moving.  It's been a real treat to watch Kevin grow and learn.  We love showing him new things.  We really enjoy watching him try to understand this new world around him.  

However, as fast as babies grow, it's nothing compared to puppies.  At nine months, a puppy would be almost fully grown and well into his teenage months.  He would be awkward, gangly, and pushing his limits.  They are still cute, but sometimes by that point the cuteness is wearing off a bit.  Between eight and eighteen months is when the majority of puppies are given to shelters.  After that, they mature more and people can handle them again.  Before that, they are cute enough to get away with stuff.  Puppies are only puppies for a short time, and then they become dogs.  I think they're still cute, but a lot of people love that puppy stage and really miss it when it is gone.  

That's probably why so many people get tiny dogs.  They can keep pretending they are babies.  The problem is a tiny dog is still a dog.  If you treat a dog like a baby, they never learn discipline and think that they are in charge.  This causes a lot of bad behaviors that go unchecked because the dog is 'cute.' 

Which is why a great many people don't like small dogs.  They often get away with everything because they're not a threat to people.  

Babies remain as babies for quite a while.  We have more time to teach them the things they need to know before they are considered adults.  Children and puppies take a great deal of patience, perseverance, discipline, and love.  However, dogs will never reach the development level of a human.  They will never be able to have deep conversations with us.  Children eventually will. 

Chewing

Kevin still has no teeth.  His cousin, who is a week younger, has four or five.  She actually has been known to leave little teeth marks in the furniture.  Babies in general however, don't chew on things nearly as much as puppies.  

I've never heard of someone coming home from work to find that their child had eaten their favorite shoe or hat.  Though someone in my family used to chew the fingers and toes off of our barbies, we never found the entire barbie digested.  

Puppies, however, will chew on everything.  Furniture, clothing, toys; you name it, they've eaten it.  That's one nice thing that you don't have to worry about as much when it comes to babies.

A Little More on Poop

When my dog had her puppies, at first it was easy to clean after them.  She took care of most of that.  Then, as they grew and developed, they began to defecate on their own.  Soon, I was the one who had to pick up after eight growing puppies.  It was a full-time job.  

Again, I'll take diapers over that any day.  Both baby poop and dog poop however gets stinkier as the owners get older.  That's part of life.

  Longevity

I think this will be the last thing I'll address in this blog.  Puppies are cute.  They take a lot of work, but when you take the time, it pays off into a wonderful dog.  However, the oldest living dog only lived to 29 and 1/2 years old.  That's pretty old for a dog.  However, for a beloved family member, that's not that long at all.  

Children (hopefully) will be around the rest of our lives and beyond.  They don't just bring joy and heartache, they also are the future of our families.  They pass on stories of us, our teachings, and our experiences.  They also bring grandchildren.  

Dogs bring happiness for a lifetime, but children bring happiness for an eternity.  They can continue to bring joy to others after we are gone.  

So, yes, Dad.  Children are better than puppies. 

At this point, my experience with having my own children has caught up with the present.  I could speculate on what will happen in the future, but until I go through those stages myself, I'll let other people tell me what it's like.  I've raised a puppy to adulthood, but I'm still on my first kid.  Eventually, Kevin will have a few puppies to grow up with him.  Every kid needs a dog.  It's an earth-rule.   

Hopefully Kevin will turn out well.  We'll do our best, and that's all we can do.  The rest is up to him.

Giving Blood and Saving Snails

Yesterday was an interesting day.

It started off with Kevin and I going with my aunt to play floor hockey.  I am trying to exercise more this week, so her invitation to accompany her was very welcome.  At first, Kevin did just fine.  Two of my aunt's kids were there, so I thought he would be enjoying himself while we played.  He usually is a very happy kid, especially when there are other kids around.

Unfortunately, someone brought Bambi, and soon all the kids were watching it...all the kids, that is, except Kevin.  He doesn't really appreciate tv.  We'd only played a few minutes when Kevin began to cry.  The fact the other kids abandoned him was probably compounded by the small amount of sleep that he had been allowing himself the last few days.  We're not sure exactly what's been going on, but I've been pretty tired.

Anyway, Kevin began to cry.  I tried to distract him, but it didn't work.  So finally, I said, "Come play with me."  I hoisted him into my left arm, and put the hockey stick in my right arm.  Luckily, I'm pretty strong, so I could still hit the ball pretty well.  Kevin and I played goalie and we played hard.  He seemed to enjoy it, except when everyone was running toward us, and he'd let out this little terrified shriek.  I'm not sure if it was fear or excitement, but when I looked at him, he looked fine.

We played that way for a while, and then they turned off Bambi so the other kids would play with him.  Again, he was distracted for a few minutes while I began to play harder.  One of the women said, "Oh, you're a runner," as I charged after the ball.  The distractions only worked for a moment though.  Kevin began to wail again.  He was tired and hungry, and every time he heard the sticks hit the floor, he knew he was missing out on fun.  So, I fed him, and then he ended up playing goalie with me again.  I got a pretty good workout.  I'm kind of sore today.  I've still got it though.  Half-way through my aunt told me that I frightened her.  Especially when I was holding the baby.

Heh.

Then, after Grig got home from work, we went and donated blood.  I always do really well with it.  I've got good veins and a great constitution.  I was a little worried because I'm still nursing Kevin, but I did just fine.  Kevin sure enjoyed himself.  He got the sugary treats and attention as he walked around the place.  Every time we go out, people ask, "How old is he?"   When we tell them 9 months, they usually say, "Wow!  He's doing really well."

We know.  It's because he's batman.

Anywho.

Then, we had to go drop off the car at Havelock's workplace.  He would then drive it home at 10:30 p.m. after he got done with his job.  Grig, Kevin, and I took the bus.  (Havelock would take it, but it stops its route at 8:30).  The bus was kind of fun, but the combination of donating blood and driving home took way long.  We didn't get home until 7:15.  We still had to eat, shower, send an important e-mail, and save a snail.  Not necessarily in that order.  Grig was supposed to get up at 2:50 a.m. this morning.  We didn't get to bed until 10:30 p.m.  It's going to be a long day for my poor husband. 

The snail was quite grateful, though.  And hungry.  It ate quite a bit of Swiss chard.

On a final note, I'm sorry for those of you who are waiting for out next video.  I know it's three days late.  It's been kind of crazy.  It's almost ready, I'm just waiting for some voice-acting from Grig.

Also, I have a question for my readers.  I'm thinking about blogging Monday through Friday, and putting up a vlog (video blog) on Saturday.  Would anyone be interested in us doing that?  I think it might be kind of fun, though more work for me.

Please let me know your thoughts.

TTFN.  Ta-ta for now.

Are Things Ever 'Just Right'?

 

Everyone knows the story of Goldilocks and the three bears.  One bowl of porridge was too hot, one was too cold, and one was just right.

However, in life, it seems that things are never 'just right'.  How many days of the year do we go outside and say, "Ah, the weather is just right today!"?  A few maybe, but not very many.

When I worked at a gas station, the most common complaint I would hear from people who were coming in during the summer was: "It's too hot!"  A few months later, during the winter people would come in and complain that it was now "Too cold!"  Very rarely did anyone say, "Ah, the weather is just right today.  I'm so glad that I went outside!"

I'm not exempt from this attitude either.  When we moved into our new apartment on the second floor, we found out that we didn't have air conditioning.  Luckily for us, heat rises, so it has been a very hot summer.  We bought a few fans and our bedroom has been livable, but it has been difficult.  Often our apartment is too hot, and we are constantly wishing that the fall months will come quickly.

However, just this week the weather took a turn for the cooler, and though I'm enjoying being outside in the cool weather, our bedroom has become too cold!  We've had to turn off the fan for fear of being frozen out!  Suddenly, I'm remembering why I like summer so much more than winter.  I HATE being cold!

I too often find myself saying things like: "When this happens, we'll be happy."  "When we graduate, things will be better."  "When we get a full-time job, things will be easier."

That isn't usually the case though.  When we do get those things, they usually come with their own version of trials, and things are equally, if not more, difficult.

A while ago, one of our leaders gave a talk that was called, "Finding Joy in the Journey."  Click on the link to read it, I'd highly recommend it.  It addressed the fact that we need to be happy wherever we are, and find things that are 'just right' right now.

So, here goes my list of 'just rights':

Right now, my husband's job is just right for us.
Right now, my baby is just the right age.
Right now, we have just hte right number of kids.
Right now, we have just the right number of pets.
Right now, we are living in just the right place.
Right now, we have just the right amount of money.
Right now, we are just right in our marriage.
Right now, I am just right in my relationship with our Lord.

That doesn't mean there isn't room for improvement in these things, but I know that as we are trying our best, we can enjoy where we are, even as we improve.

Take time out of your day.  Enjoy the little things.  Look around for small tender mercies from the Lord.  Admire the beauty of the clouds.  Enjoy having kids that mess up your house.  Enjoy having people to eat with that make dirty dishes.  Enjoy being loved by your family and friends.

Yes, things will change in time, but when they do, we can always find more things that are 'just right' with our lives.  As we do, we'll be happier now and less stressed about the future. 



What are some things in your life that are 'just right'?

A Little Poverty Never Hurt Anyone

Being poor isn't much fun.  When Grig and I moved recently, we were doing pretty well financially.  However, previous to this move, we had been blessed with an apartment that was owned by loving family, and they didn't require us to pay rent.

Thanks to their generosity, we had been able to save up a bit of money, and had reduced our college debt by quite a bit.  Before we moved we weren't rich, but we weren't really poor either.  We'd been able to pay all of our baby bills (which were pretty substantial considering that I had a c-section).

Since we've moved, however, we've joined the world of the grown ups.  Our money that we saved was mostly spent in those first few weeks when Grig wasn't working as many hours and he was signed up through a temp agency.  For a while, we didn't even know for sure that he was going to get the job full-time.  However, we had faith.  We knew this is where we were supposed to be.

We had decided to get a three bedroom apartment so that Grig's brother Havelock could come and stay with us.  It was decided that once he arrived and found a job, he would be able to help with the rent a bit.  The rent is a decent price for a three bedroom apartment, but it is still quite a bit of our income.  However, he couldn't find a job for a few weeks, so we've had to pay the rent on our own.  (As a side note, he found a job, and he starts today!) 

We've had to become very careful on how we deal with our money.  I created a budgeting system on Excel that works great for us, but with all of the finances we've had and a few surprise bills, our money nearly disappeared.  We couldn't buy groceries because we didn't have money for it.  We didn't have any furniture when we moved, and though we were able to buy a bed, we couldn't buy anything else.  We have been dirt poor, and it hasn't hurt us at all.

We've learned so many wonderful things because of it.  We budgeted our money before this, but never with the same caution that we do now.  We only buy what we absolutely NEED, and we're still working on discerning what groceries can wait until we have money.  We have given up a lot of things that we wanted for a later time when we can afford them.  Neither Grig nor I have credit cards, and aside from a (comparatively) small college debt that we are working on, we don't plan on ever going into debt.  We only want to buy things that we have saved up for and can afford. 

We've also been so blessed!  Every piece of furniture that we've really needed, someone has given us.  When we started, we had a tiny end table, a rocking chair, a lawn chair, a desk, and entertainment center (with no t.v.), a book shelf, a bed, and a tote that we use for a desk.  We didn't have a couch, a bed for Havelock, a table, or a microwave.  As the weeks have gone by and we've been trying to stay within our means, others have stepped in and given us furniture.  We've been so grateful as we've learned to rely on the Lord and on friends and family.

We've had enough, but no more.  As Havelock starts his new job and Grig continues to work, we should be able to begin saving again, and move past the poverty line.  It's been tough, but really, it's been okay.

A little poverty never hurt anyone.  It's only made us stronger as we've come closer to each other and to the Lord.

Are There Any Original Endings Left?

When I was going to college, I took a fiction writing class.  It was a lot of fun and I really enjoy writing, so it was kind of a treat.  At the time, I was considering changing my major to become an English major and so I was experimenting to see how I liked those kind of classes.

We would all write short stories and then we would take turns as a class reading each person's story and analyzing it.  You weren't allowed to talk when your story was being analyzed, but you could listen and see people's reaction to your story.  

I learned a lot in that class.  However, one thing sticks out in my memory.

At the class's beginning, everyone's stories were completely different.  Some weren't very well-written, true, but they were creative and original.  However, as the class progressed, I began to see something very interesting happen.  Trying to get a reaction out of their audience, characters in the stories began to die. It was a slow thing at first.  A character death here, someone's reaction to it there, but it spread through the class like a plague.

After two-thirds of the semester was over, everyone's stories were ending in death.  It was an incredible change.  Soon, it was a surprise if someone's story didn't end with someone dying.  Reading back on some of those short stories that I wrote during that time, I was a little surprised by how dark they were.  I don't think I would even think about writing some of them now.  

Finally, at one point, I wrote a story just to stir things up.  Out of all the stories I wrote that year, this one wasn't my favorite, but my teacher LOVED it.

Here's the story:

******

 The Truth About Age

    The old woman hobbles slowly down the path, a bag in one hand, a cane in the other.  Her legs are bowed and she is bent nearly double with pain as she makes her way to a small gate.  Her wrinkled face is creased with sadness and she stumbles now and again against rocks on the uneven path.  

    As she reaches the gate, she slowly lifts her weary head only to find a young man there.  He smiles gently and opens the gate for her.

    “Would you like me to take your bag?” he asks kindly.

    The old woman, surprised, is silent for a moment and then speaks in a voice worn with age, “I would be most grateful, young man.”

    He quickly takes her bag and extends an arm.  The age-old sadness begins to slip from her face as she gratefully takes the proffered hand.  Slowly, sorrowful wrinkles begin to transform into gentle laugh lines.  

    They walk in silence for several minutes.  Once they reach her destination, the young man graciously hold open the door.

    He nods his head to her slightly as she takes her bag back and he gently smiles a final time.

    “Have a good day,” he says, and disappears down the street.

    The woman, no longer bent with age, continues to smile as she walks into the store.  Energy seems to fill her small frame and she glides more quickly, only using her cane slightly.  Time slowly fades, and wrinkles are made smooth. 

******

It was a very positive and uplifting story.  I was trying to convey the message that as we help those around us, they can feel younger.  It was very different from the suicide and other depressing stories that we all were turning out at that point.  It was interesting to me to see the positive reaction to my story.  As humans, sometimes we're so busy trying to get an emotional reaction and trying to be stunning that we don't realize that we're stopped being stunning and have become the same.

When The Ring came out, most horror movies had happy endings, or at least resolutions.  However, since then, most scary movies seem to just be getting darker and creepier without resolution.  At the time, it was original, now my siblings don't even think its all that scary.

When Tolkien wrote Lord of the Rings, fantasy wasn't even a genre.  There was simply fiction and nonfiction. When The Hobbit came out, these stories were still being called Fairy Tales.  Now it seems that you can find elements of Tolkien's books in nearly every fantasy.

I enjoy it when books surprise me.  However, as I work at writing my own stories I wonder if they're too predictable.  Do my stories have events in it that are just intended for 'shock-value'?  Or do they have surprises that are surprising because we really couldn't see them coming?  The best authors even include clues, but the readers mind either misses those clues or assumes that they are leading to something else.

In our own lives, do we follow the crowd?  Are we inclined to do things for the shock value?  Or are we going to do uplifting and positive things that will surprise others because they are different from the way society is doing things.  Like the young man in my story, are we helping others to throw off their troubles or are we causing them more pain?

Are there any original endings left?  Yes.  However, it is up to each of us to find our own.  I can't live my life the same as any other person, and I shouldn't try.  I'm someone different.  I want to do what's right, and that means I have to find my own path.  Each of us has a completely different story from everyone else.  We have different backgrounds, different motivations, and different goals.  As we discover that story, we can choose whether we are a good or bad influence in the lives of those around us.  We can choose how we affect their stories.

And at the end, everyone will have their own original ending.  However, what happens and whose with us when the time comes is really up to each of us. 

Having the Missionaries Over for Dinner and My Meatloaf Recipe

Every time I add a picture that is not mine, I accompany it with a link to the original image.  Click on the picture to go there.

 Last night was an exciting night!  On Sunday, they passed around a sign-up sheet for anyone that wanted to feed the missionaries.  I was really excited.  It is my first time ever feeding them as a married couple.

When I was on my mission, I loved eating at members' homes.  They usually cooked us really extravagant dinners, because for them, it was a special occasion to feed the missionaries.  Unfortunately for the missionaries, when it is a special occasion every night, it becomes really difficult not to gain weight.  However, the food was always good, regardless of what culture it originated from, and in Texas there is a lot of different cultural backgrounds.  Sometimes people would take us out to eat as well, and that was a nice treat.

So, after I picked up the Sister Missionaries, I told them the ground-rules.

1- Don't eat anything you don't like

2- If you get full, don't feel the need to finish your food, we can doggie-bag it for you

That was basically it.  I just remember too many nights when I left stuffed to the gills, and spent the rest of the evening trying to walk off the delicious food.  One time we had salad for dinner, and that was a rare treat!

We ended up having rice with cream of mushroom gravy and meatloaf.  It is my own special recipe.  I think it's probably the best meatloaf I've ever eaten too.  The missionaries seemed to enjoy it.  In fact, the newer sister was being really polite, and cleaning up the dishes.  However, when I told them that there was another pan of meatloaf, she got really interested, and though she kept trying to tell me it was okay, I could tell that she wanted some more.  

So, I got her a paper plate (so that she wouldn't feel guilty about dirtying another one) and she happily ate some more.  

Here's my recipe for meatloaf, if you're interested.  The problem is, I kind of eye-ball stuff, so this is just a basic guideline.  I tried to write down the measurements based upon how much I put in, and it seems to turn out okay.  This is enough for one bread-pan.

Emma Tank's Meat Loaf Recipe: 

1 1/2 pounds of hamburger

1 cup oatmeal

¼ cup corn

1 cup chopped onion

1 egg

1 cup milk

1 tsp garlic salt

¼ tsp pepper

¼ cup barbeque sauce (or ketchup)

Topping:

¾ cup ketchup (or combo barbeque sauce and ketchup)

¾ cup brown sugar

1 tablespoon mustard

Combine all ingredients in a bowl.  Spray the bread pan with non-stick spray.  Put meatloaf in pan, press down to fill all edges.  Combine topping, pour on top of meatloaf.  Cover all surfaces.  Cook at 375 for 1 hour 25 minutes.

It turns out really good and moist.  Personally, I think the corn adds a lot. 

Anyway, it was a really nice evening.  Kevin showed off his walking, and while they shared a spiritual thought he kept walking back and forth between them.  He really liked them.  Afterward, they were going to walk to another appointment, but it cancelled, so I drove them to another place to do some service.  They seem like very good missionaries.  One was from Tonga and the other was from Wyoming. 

Having them over, reminded me a lot of my mission and how much I loved being a missionary for my Savior.  I have had very strong spiritual experiences since my mission, but there is no other calling in life like being a full-time missionary.  When you sacrifice everything in your life for an 18-month to a 2-year mission, the Lord blesses you in turn.  I can't explain how much I grew over that period of time.  I learned a lot about myself and how much the Lord loves every one of his children.  It doesn't matter where you live or what you are doing.  The Lord loves you.

One of my favorite sayings goes like this:

The Lord loves you just the way you are, but He loves you too much to let you stay that way.  

The Lord constantly is requiring us to grow and change for the better.  If I allowed my own son to only stay in kindergarten his whole life, he certainly would not grow into the man I know he is supposed to become.  The older grades may be tougher, and he may suffer because he has to learn harder things, but in the end Kevin will be better for it.  

I know the gospel is true and Christ is my Savior.  I know that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is God's church on Earth and He has set it up.  It is not a church of men, but of God.  

We pray for you, and keep you in our hearts.