The Master's Hands

I have been thinking a lot lately of my mission. Shocker, right?  But it's coming up so fast, and life is happening so fast, and it's just crazy!  It seems like yesterday I received my call, finished my student teaching, graduated college....the days and months have flown by.  When I decided I wanted to serve a mission, I wanted to get everything processed as quickly as it could be so I would be in and out of Omaha, lickity split.  Omaha didn't hold anything for me. I viewed it as a holding cell rather than as a place of opportunity.  The Lord always knows best though, and so my waiting period extended from what I hoped would be one month to five.  How blessed I have been.  For the people I have met, the things that I learned, and the person I have become while staying here.  There is a reason I have been in Omaha this long, and even though I still don't know exactly why, I choose to be grateful for the goodness in my life.

Anyways...I digress.  Back to the good ole' mish.  On a mission, you consecrate all your time, energy and efforts fully to the Lord and his purposes.  I am so excited for this opportunity that will allow me to forget about myself and fully focus on what the Lord wants me to do.  I find that I sometimes lack happiness when I do not include other people in my life.  Being a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints uniquely allows me to do just that - surround myself with people in varying stages of spiritual growth and strength and help them in ways I can.  Sometimes I feel that we take people at their face value.  We determine their excellence based upon a criteria that we, or society, have created.  We see people as they are, not what they have the potential to become.  Just like Jethro urged Moses in The Prince of Egpyt to look at his life through the eye's of heaven, we should allow our eyes to align with the views of heaven as we glance at our mortal companions on this journey.  We all sin.  That's a fact.  The toll of sin may be more apparent on some than others.  However, one truth remains.  We are all children of God.  Because we know that truth, what else do we know?  We are all loved by God.  And because of His love for us, He sent His son.


And when I think,
that God His son not sparing,
sent Him to die,
I scarce can take it in.
That on the cross,
my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.



He sent His son for me and for you and for everyone in this world so that we could learn of Him, become as Him, and eventually return to live with our Father in Celestial Glory.

So.
Let's change how we view one another.  We are masterpieces in various stages of creation and can each become as clay in the Master's hands.  The Atonement is for all.  And my sole purpose for 18 months will be to show and teach and remind people of that plan.  The Plan of Salvation.  The Plan of Happiness.  The plan that allows for us to become like Christ.  Let us allow that plan to be present in our lives as we all strive to be a little better, and see the potential for growth in others.  Let us allow ourselves to see each other through the eye's of heaven as we continue on this mortal journey.

Because, who knows better what a violin has potential to do than the one who helped create it?

Courtesy of: http://ldsnotebookingpages.blogspot.com/2013/09/the-touch-of-masters-hand-free-copywork.html

Regardless of where we've been, regardless of what we've done, the Atonement allows us to change as we allow ourselves to become like new through Christ.

God loves me and He loves you.
And at the end of the day, that's a pretty awesome truth to know.

'Till next time.

Emily. 

After the call : The right clothes vs. The right heart

Mission Shopping.  Hate it.  I wish I was a boy.  Picking out ties sounds like cake.

Some preparation has occurred.  It's important that you clothe yourself, at least!  Check everything off the list.  Order, order, order! Schedule, schedule, schedule!  Check, check, check!  Because of the climate, location and conditions of my mission, my mother and I have spent what seems like countless HOURS sifting through racks upon piles upon walls full of clothes to find the perfect fabrics, lengths, and coverage.  Shoes have been researched, tried on, bought.  "What colors will go with what skirts, and how many outfits can go with each thing, and what will I sweat in the least, and is this fabric light-weight, and we want to look for something that is comfy, and will you like that 6 months from now...."  You have to make sure it will be the right fit.

However, you can get so caught up in a pair of sturdy walking shoes that you forget who you're walking for.

I've been home since May, when I returned from Mesa, AZ after completing my student teaching and graduating with a Bachelor's in Elementary Education.  Pending arrival from the state of Idaho, I will be a certified teacher.  My papers were submitted in June and I received my call in July.  Guam!  How exciting!  How scary.  How long from right now.    

I'm caught in a dead zone.  Where I am waiting to move on to the next stage of my life, my mission.  When I get back, I will launch into my career, because I already have a degree.  I'm doing this a little backwards, I guess.  So any time in between graduation, mission, and career seemed like a waste to me.  But I have found that I need to change my perspective.

I've been viewing this time all wrong, like this waiting period was a holding cell;  pacing back and forth, I allowed myself to create a rut as I paced, paced, paced.  I moved nowhere, and my attention shifted from the date that seemed too far away but will come so soon, and I found myself melting into the monotony and the idleness that came with it.  

You see, it matters little if you have the right clothes if your heart isn't ready.

The prophet Alma, from the Book of Mormon, asks "...have ye been spiritually born of God? Have ye received His image in your countenances?  Have ye experienced this mighty change in your heart?"

Sometimes I feel like in all our lives, we experience times where we forget the significant yet simple truths in our lives.  As we forget, the light of Christ will diminish in our countenances.  At those times, it is important to rekindle the flame.  As I have been pondering this the last couple weeks, I have been able to see how I need to make sure that I am doing the BEST things with my spare time.  Creating daily patterns of living allow me to feed on the daily bread that scriptures, Preach My Gospel, the Spirit, and others can provide, so I can see the bigger picture.

It's the simple things that remind us, remind me of my purpose and why I am finding those shoes to walk in.

I will be walking in His name.
I will be speaking in His name.
I will be praying in His name.
I will be singing in His name.
I will be teaching in His name.

And as I have worked to reestablish those daily patterns, I have found greater light, a light that can only come from our Savior, Jesus Christ.  David A. Bednar said, "If today you are a little better than you were yesterday, then that's enough."  Progression is key.  And as we progress, we will find greater joy.  And it's all because of Him.

I know this to be true. 

He lives.

And because He lives, 

We can change.

And at the end of the day, 

That's a pretty awesome truth to know.

'Till next time!

Emily.

Where to begin?

Start a blog, I said.  It will be fun I said.  I'll make time, I said.

Well, obviously I was kidding myself about being able to actually commit to something and keep doing it.  However, at the encouragement of a good friend, Justine, I have decided to take the plunge into not only recording the awesome doings of my daily life, but also creating a place where I can go back and see the blessings.  So that's what this will be, hopefully.  A history of blessings, life lessons, and probably some embarrassing stories.  Let's be real.  We're talking about me.

Let me give you the quick updates of my life:

I completed my student teaching in Mesa, AZ in April 2014.

I graduated BYU-Idaho with a Bachelor's Degree in Elementary Education in April 2014.

I escaped BYU-Idaho unscathed and unmarked AKA single.

http://everydayfeminism.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/02/The-Ultimate-Pillow-For-Single-Ladies-Funny-Cute-Picture.jpg

I became an aunt for the second time to one chunk of a baby boy (but I loooove those cheeks!)

My sister, Stephanie, will be returning in February from a 18-month mission for The Church of Jesus Christ Latter Day Saints in the Arizona Gilbert Mission.

The baby, my brother Brandon, graduated from High School and received his mission call to serve as a missionary in the Piracicaba Brazil Mission.  He leaves in mid-October.

My best friend just reported to the Provo Missionary Training Center on Wednesday to prepare to serve as a missionary in the Cleveland Ohio Mission.

And....I report to the same place on October 22  to serve as a missionary in the Micronesia Guam Mission!

So.
There's the update.
Three missionaries out.
And my parents will soon be empty nesters.

Life has been crazy in so many respects in the last 6 months.  Decisions are crazy things, especially when lots of prayer and faith is required.  As we completely put our trust in the Lord, we will find that our lives will be enriched in ways that we didn't realize they could be.  I know that to be true, and when I struggle to find that truth, I just look at my life as realize what I have blessed with with.

So, the blessings:
- I have been blessed to have a job not only that will take me back but that welcomes me back with open arms.
-I am blessed with a stable family home where I am able to still be blessed and nourished by daily patterns of spiritual living through family scriptures and prayer.
-I am healthy.
-I have not brought any physical harm to myself, which is a miracle if you have ever seen me play volleyball.
-I have people that care about me, pray for me, and watch over me.
-Goodwill shopping.  It's good for the soul.


That's all for today.  My new goal is to post at least weekly, if not more.  I hope that as I continue to update and post, I will not only begin to see the patterns of blessings in my own life, but understand what my role is.
God is real.  He loves me and you.
 And at the end of the day, that's a pretty awesome truth to know.

'Til next time. :)

Emily. 

Fear

One of the biggest things I fear is death.  I know that it is something I shouldn’t fear; I should be able to stare at the Grim Reaper straight in his cold, soulless eyes and say, “Bring it on!  I’m going straight to the top, and there isn’t anything you can do to stop me!”  But sometimes my “unshakable faith” can get pretty shakable.  So many “what ifs” start to pop up, like those weeds in your flower garden that never seem to go away, no matter how many times you try to kill them.  They can choke you, squeezing and squeezing, wrapping tighter and tighter around you...until there’s no air to breath, and hope seems lost.  “What if I go blind, deaf, or lose a limb?” “I could lose my hair, my mind, or my life.” “What if I get in a car accident, get mugged, raped, shot?”  Sometimes my brain feels like it will explode under the pressure of these bottled up fears that are swirling around faster and faster, and growing in size and force.
            I fear the uncertainty and defenselessness that comes from not knowing what could happen with my life.  I’m not ready to die.  I’m not ready to tell my family, bald from the chemotherapy, weak from the drugs in my last moments of life, that I love them, and to never give up; never lose hope or faith.  Will I be able to laugh when I lose a husband, child, parent or friend?  Am I ready for that despair, that empty black nothingness that threatens to swallow me and never release?  I don’t know.  Every day, change happens, both good and bad.  And while some people just live life with a “come what may” attitude, I live by creating scenarios.
             Scenario #1: A baby enters the world; it’s a girl!  The parents are overjoyed, so in love with this bundle of life that has been given to them.  Already the mother can see her taking her first steps across the living room, up the stairs, into school, across the stage and down the aisle.  For a moment, the future flashes before her eyes; a short film recap of the wonderful events to come in this family and infant’s life.
            Scenario #2: Across the hall, a couple waits for someone to come with news, something, anything but this overwhelming silence and the ticking of the clock on the opposite wall.  Tick Tick Tick.  The clock itself seems to represent a time bomb that is bound to go off any minute, and the contents of it will explode, each piece of shrapnel flying off in every which way to plant its destructive contents deep into the lives of the unsuspecting.  The husband’s eyes are sunken, and one look into his face will tell a story of many sleepless nights, and numerous trips to the hospital in the back of an ambulance with his wife sobbing at his side.  And now here he is, in this waiting room that feels more like a holding cell, a prison for all his fear and doubts, waiting with his wife to hear the news of their premature baby girl, born with heart, lung and brain complications.  Doctors don’t know if she’ll make it through the next night, the next surgery, or even the next hour.  And as their daughter fights for a life she may not keep, the father calculates the figures: Three jobs should keep them above ground, and will pay for the diapers, bottles, formula, clothes, and surgeries.  More and more surgeries.  But all he can do is sit waiting in that room with the nurse and her sad smile, his wife, and watch the clock on the opposite wall, living every second in fear that that knob will turn, praying it does yet hoping it doesn’t.
            I fear having the inability to move on, to pick myself up off the floor, dust my hands and keep on walking, moving forward and further down the path that I have chosen for myself.  Sometimes life feels like a moonlit drive, cruising down a back road with the scent of honeysuckle in your nose.  Everything is as it should be.  The stars are out, and the night air caresses your skin, when suddenly you hit a roadblock, a deer perhaps, throwing a wrench in your plans, the perfect blueprints that you spent so much time and effort creating.  As you stare down at the wreckage that you call your life, sometimes it feels impossible to keep going onward, to not retreat and back up into a hole and stay there forever in a hibernation that will last through this never ending winter.  And you get so sleepy, so tired of all this noise and hurt and anger.  Why wake up?  Just sleep, sleep and forget all these problems, all these roadblocks with their bright signs, urging you to pick up your shattered self and move along down some road, some path that’s anywhere but here.
            Everywhere, everyday, all the time, change is happening.  And that frightens me.  And sometimes it’s hard to take that gamble, to trust in someone that you cannot see.  Because this time you’re going to have to put your heart on the line, lead with your faith and leap.  Leap into the vast unknown, a place where many voyagers seem to never return from.  Some people shipwreck, you see, and start to drown in the turmoil of their sorrows that is brought from this change.  They sink deeper and deeper, not having the faith, the courage, or the guts to reach out and take His hand.
            But just when it seems that nothing can change, that you can never reassemble the shards of yourself scattered in every direction, that is when you get down on your knees.  You pray to God, to Allah, to the creator of the universe for the strength needed to go on, and change that fear to faith.  And slowly, so slowly, that faith will move the mountains of fear looming over you from all sides, stone after stone, pebble after pebble, until you will again see that path, straight and narrow, leading you back to the one place you long to be: home.

Oh those days when we were young

It's nice days like these that have me reminiscing on my childhood years.  I lived outside when I was a kid.  I drank out of the hose, climbed the one tree that the mean old neighbors didn't want us to, and even got dragged around by my Lab/Shephard mix of a dog as he pursued a squirrel. Like I said, I lived.  And I even have a scar on my forehead to prove it.  Turns out climbing and falling off a cinder block wall the day before the family move isn't the best thing to do.  But I was a little adventurer. 

When we moved, I think my mother breathed a sigh of relief when we ended up having kids next door that were our same ages. And their mom and mine had the same philophosy: Shove 'em outside and don't let them in till dinnertime.  Don't worry, we didn't have to go pee in the bushes, she would let us in, but we rarely watched that much T.V. growing up.  Instead we would play baseball, kickball, freeze tag, cereal tag, toilet tag, tunnel tag, seriously any form of tag known to man, in the field behind our houses.  We packed little picnic lunches and would ride our bikes down to the park and climb on top of the playground equipment, because we were legit like that. We had lemonade stands that would go toward funding our club, The Boys and Girls Club.  Such an original title, I know. And we would call each others houses pretending to order pizza.  And we would make hopscotches that would stretch all the way around the block.  We would have epic water fights that included 4 different houses.  We would go "snorkeling" in our plastic kiddy pool on the driveway.  We would wash the cars.  We made squirrel traps. We found a sparkely rock and made it our club mascot.  We would have the most epic Easter Egg hunts months after Easter was gone.  To this day I'm sure there are some in my backyard. We played in the rainstorms till we were soaked, and we did cool tricks with our bikes.  Don't tell the parents, but we would ditch our helmets once we were out of view because we were "cool", with our shirts tucked into our waist high shorts, our bangs and bowlcuts. And we would have contests of all kinds; Skip-It, Bop-It, Jump roping, Bike tricks, who could find the coolest rock....we played.  We had fun.  We used our imagination.  We were kids.

And it was great, those springs and summers when we didn't have a care in the world except for the adventures we were going to go on that day.  We did stupid things.  But they were awesome.  Sometimes I think that we underestimate how much just being a kid is important.  As we grow up into adulthood, we can forget about the things in our lives that really matter and the joys that come from it.  We forget how to live and to find that joy.  How do we view the world?  How easily we forget the tender mercies in our lives.  President Gordon B. Hinckley said, "Life is to be enjoyed, not endured". Now I'm not saying that we all need to start looking for the sparkley rocks in the flower bed or play a mean game of "Find the Easter Eggs", but we do need to find things that bring us that simple joy.  As we do, we may find ourselves a little bit more heading in the right direction.

Miracles

Mighty miracles were wrought  by God in the times of the scriptures.  Where are these miracles today?

Miracles today come in the form of other people, through service, mighty changes of heart, the birth of a child, the eternal union of husband and wife...The miracles have always come, but the real miracle is when we see them as such.

So find joy in the journey, and always remember the blessings that Heavenly Father has blessed you with in your life.  Let the laughter of a child, the brilliance of a sunrise, a smile from a stranger become a blessed and joyous part of your day.  Find those little pieces of light, and you will find your miracles.

Moments That Matter Most