TMFH: Auto Repairs

I am not your average girl.  I know how to:

Check/Fill my oil
Check/Fill my windshield washer fluid
Clean my engine
Change my head lights
Install a stereo
Change windshield wiper
Fill my tire with air
Clean it like its going out of style

BUT...

You better know what a strut is, because when I take my car in to get an oil change and they try to talk me into $1,000 worth of repairs, you are going to be my phone a friend life line.

Being Prepared...and other stuffs

I remember giving a talk in church soon after I returned home from my mission.  The topic assigned to me was 'Be Prepared' and specifically listed the parable of the 10 virgins.  Somewhere in preparation for that talk I decided that the oil that the 5 prepared virgins had was their testimony, and so I presented the idea as such.

Today, I was grateful that the Lord had filled my lantern in several different ways.

I was at work, but today, because of blessed standardized testing (note the sarcasm), I was in the counseling office answering phones and doing remedial office work-It.was.awesome.  If all I had to do all day was file papers, answer phones, look cute, and think of something funny to say to students as they waited to get into trouble, my life would be perfect.  I will be there tomorrow.  I am in substitute teaching heaven.

Anyways, I was sitting there, checking the spelling on the diplomas of the graduating class of 2011 when a woman walked in and in Spanish asked to see her son.  I explained that he was in testing and she said that he was a junior (they weren't testing today) and that they had a doctor's appointment.  She had a skirt and a matching blouse on, but had a dew-rag on her head.  I thought it was strange, but I have seen odder things, so I went about the process of locating her son and getting him to her.

As I continued to check the spelling of the worlds most awful names (a subject for another post), I looked up and noticed that she was watching me.  I smiled.  She smiled back and I thought I saw the glint of a tear.  I asked her if she was alright, and she burst into tears.  I rushed to the other side of the desk where she was sitting, put my arm around her and asked her what was wrong.

'Its just that this might be the last time I come to pick my son up from school.'  she cried.

'Why would you think that?' I asked.

' I have brain cancer, I don't know how much longer I am going to live.' was her reply.  Then she added, 'I am so tired.'

I started to tear up with her.  I confided in her that my own mother had just been diagnosed with cancer and that she too was much more tired than she used to be.  I asked her the treatments she was on, and was not shocked to find that they were some of the same ones my mother had done.  I told her that my mom was just now, a few months after her treatments, starting to get her energy, and that she couldn't think like she was going to be gone.  I told her that there was power in faith, that she needed to believe she was going to get better and in doing so she WOULD get better.  I promised her that if she would have faith in God's plan for her that everything would work out for the best, but asked her to be strong for her children, because they needed her to believe that she was going to be alright.

As I spoke with her, she was calmed.  I recognized the familiar, 'Asi es' and 'Amen Señor' phrases that I heard so often as a missionary, and right on cue, as she was wiping the tears from her eyes, her son walked in.  She stood up, he put his arm around her, and she said, 'Que el Señor te bendiga.'  May the Lord bless you.

I thought a lot today about the different things that prepared me for just that moment...The countless hours on my mission comforting those who stood in need of comfort, learning to speak the language and say things in a way that people would understand, hundreds of hours in university classrooms, hours on my knees pleading for my own mother's life...

And one night, preparing a talk for sacrament.

Rise All Loyal Cougars

I'm not gonna lie...  I got this letter the other day, and it made me cry.

Dear Graduate:

On behalf of the College of Humanities, we in the deans' office express our congratulations on the occasion of your graduation. This is a significant accomplishment, and we are happy that you chose to purse a degree in the Humanities at Brigham Young University.  If we are doing our job properly, there is no better place to study nations, kindreds, tongues, and peoples than in our College, where we have the opportunity to learn from distinguished faculty about the world and the people around us from the perspectives of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

As you complete your education at BYU, you go out into a world that will challenge you in many ways.  We hope that we have helped prepare you, both intellectually and spiritually, for those challenges and that you will sense the opportunity and obligation you have to represent this university and our sponsoring Church with honor.

In your personal, professional, church, and civic lives you will have opportunities to demonstrate the careful reasoning, the tolerance, the humility, and the sense of values that lie at the heart of the humanities.  You should be less vulnerable to cheap rhetoric, more open to differing opinions, less enamored of your own capacities and possessions, and more committed to the Gospel and to the principles of right and virtue than are those who lack your background.

We are proud of you and your graduating class and believe that you will expand on the academic and moral education that you have received at Brigham Young University.  As you do, we too will be expanded, and this institution will become stranger and more mature.  The resources that you, the Church, and your families have expended in providing for your studies will be repaid through your service and faith.

May you remember with pride and pleasure the time you spent at Brigham Young University.

Today, I will walk across that stage and officially close the door on my BYU Career.  That may not seem like something all that important for some of you, but let me let you in on a little secret.

I dropped out of college in 2003.

Its a long story and I won't go into the details, sufficeth to say that I know what its like to fail.  I went through a lot of hard things, learned a lot of important lessons about myself, served a mission, learned a new language and decided to try again. It took all the courage in the world for me to stand up, brush myself off and try again.  I sincerely thought at times that it just wasn't in the cards for me to put my life back together, that I just wasn't one of those people who would finish college and go on to have careers. There were times when I couldn't believe in myself.  


As Elder Neal A. Maxwell observed: “It is not an easy thing … to be shown one’s weaknesses. … Nevertheless, this is part of coming unto Christ, and it is a vital, if painful, part of God’s plan of happiness.” 


The challenging process of facing and overcoming our weaknesses can refine us, make us more profitable servants, and bring us closer to the Savior. Through this whole endeavor, I have learned that the Lord knows me better than I know myself.  Sometimes I think I am weak.  He knows better.  I have learned (through running, school and the like) that I am only as weak as I think I am.  Which adversely means that I am only as STRONG as I think I am.  Jumping this hurdle has taught me that I am strong, and that I have a lot to offer.

I am so glad that I had to go through what I have been through.  And I am so glad that this trial is over.  I am excited for the new chapter in my life, and excited at the prospect of helping my students get through what I have been through.  I know that the Lord blesses us with trials so that we in turn can help others through the same things.

You better believe my kids will wake up every morning to me singing the fight song.  I am so proud of where I have come from and where I am going.

Plus I get to wear this hat.

Running With Brittni

Last Saturday...

5:00 a.m. Hear alarm go off, press snooze

5:30 a.m. Hear alarm go off again, drag myself out of bed

6:00 a.m. Start the 17 mile run on my usual trail, oddly see no one

6:45 a.m. Get a little tired and think about maybe not doing the whole run

7:00 a.m. Start to get really tired, think a lot more about quitting, decide not to

7:30 a.m. Get a text from my lovely friend Felicia that says, 'When the running gets hard...remember who its for...that makes it easier...;) you can do it!!

7:31 a.m. Start to think about what Brittney would have done in my situation, decide she would say hello to everyone who ran or biked passed her and do the same.

7:45-8:50 a.m. Hear words of encouragement from complete strangers that help me get through one of the most painful runs yet.

I had a really cool experience this last week on my long run.  I started saying hello to everyone.  Now this is nothing new for me.  I am often found striking up a conversation with the cashier, the person in the check out line behind me, teachers I don't know in the teachers lounge...I don't have a problem talking.  But at the gym, or on a run, I am usually in the zone.  I have an angry face and I just do my thing.  So as I was struggling to put my milage in this weekend, I was reminded why I am running this marathon.  Its not for me.  I have toyed with the idea for several years, but it was the events of last summer that made me decide to do it, officially.  So I started to run as if I were Brittney.  I thought about how happy she would have been just being out on a beautiful morning, and so I said good morning to everyone I saw.  As the run got harder, these perfect strangers started to encourage me.  They would say things like, 'You're almost there!' and 'You're doing really good!'  They would smile and say, 'You're still going??' and with each kind word they said to me, I could almost feel Britt running along side me.

I have never felt such physical exhaustion as I do when I am running lately.  I have never been so nervous and even a little scared to do something as I am to do this race, but I was reminded yesterday of a scripture in John that fits my situation so perfectly.

John 16:33:  These things I have spoken unto you, that in me ye might have peace. In the world ye shall have tribulation but be of good cheer;

I have overcome the world.

I'm still pretty nervous about the race.  26.2 miles is a long way and I haven't even gotten to where I need to be yet, but I know that I can do it.  I have the support of so many, family especially and friends from all over who encourage and bless my life.  Most importantly I have a Savior who loves me and inspires me to be my best self.  Without that I would never be able to accomplish all that I have done and will do.

Plus, I'll be running with Brittney, and that's all the help I need.

TMFH: Spring Cleaning

I'll do some not fun stuff, you'll do some not fun stuff.  We'll get it done quickly, then go out to eat.  Deal?

What I love most about being home

Snuggling with this little guy and his older brother and sister is the best.

Being home for a funeral is never fun, but as I sat in the temple on Friday morning and thought about the Plan of Salvation and how amazingly simple and simply amazing it is, I was so grateful. Grateful for cousins, aunts and uncles, brothers and sisters, family stories, funny traditions.  Grateful for the fact that we will always be together, but most of all...

Grateful for squishy cheeks and baby teeth.

Lead Me Home

In 1939, my grandparents, newly married, decided to move to Alaska.  My grandfather had spent a lot of time up there during his time as a college student, and felt that it was where he needed to raise his family.  My grandmother, not quite 20, was a little apprehensive.  She was not sure what life in a fairly unsettled territory would be like, but agreed to go under three conditions: 1) That she could go back to Utah every other summer to visit her family, 2) At the end of six years, she got to decide whether they stayed or not, and 3) That she would never have to iron my grandfather's shirts.  He agreed, and they made the trek to the last frontier.  They were, in every sense of the word, pioneers.

Living in Alaska, especially in the early days, could not have been easy for my Grandma Cora, but she did it because she knew it was where she was supposed to be.  For 53 years, she worked along side my grandfather, until his death in 1992.  She gave so much for her family, always serving, always looking for that last little detail that would make every act complete.  She is the only 90 year old woman who would be angry if you did not give her something to do.  Even in the last few months of her life, you would often hear her say, 'What are my orders?' or 'What do you need me to do?'

The last time I spoke to her, the last time I am certain she knew who I was, was the night before I left on my mission six years ago.  I had been upstairs madly packing, and I came downstairs to grab something.  She came up to me with tears in her eyes, gave me the biggest hug and told me that she loved me.  I gave her a big hug back, and said, 'Oh grandma, you'll be here when I get back!'  She was, but the early stages of Alzheimer's had set in, and she slowly began to forget.  I wish now I had taken that moment more seriously, that I had told her how much her example had always meant to me, and how grateful I was for her faith.  She was there when I went through the temple for the first time, and I remember seeing in her eyes how much it meant to her and thinking, 'This must be true, because Grandma believes it.'

From her, I inherited my middle name, my love for Phase 10 and any other card game, my ability to cheat, and my desire to serve.  Her example has taught me so much about unconditional love, about how hearts can be changed with something so basic as fruit salad, as long as the giver truly has the best interest of the receiver in mind.  I love her in ever sense of the word.

After 19 long years, my grandmother was reunited yesterday with my grandfather.  I am quite certain that he was there, on the other side of the veil, welcoming her home.  And that is where she is- Home.  I am so grateful for a God in Heaven who has made His plan so clear to us in these last days.  I know that before she came to this earth, Grandma Cora knew the trials that would face her, and that she agreed to do such hard things because she loved the Lord and wanted to prove herself.  I know that she now sits, patiently, waiting for the rest of us to make the same righteous decisions, so that, someday, we will be reunited with her.  I know that God lives, and that someday, when my journey is through, she will embrace me with open arms.

Until then, I hope that I can feel her near...

And that she will lead me home.