So I'm sitting here having a pity party for myself when I realize that there is actually something to be learned from this situation.
-
This week has been rough.
Monday, I tripped over a sprinkler head and cut up my toes pretty badly and bruised them a little bit. All in a day of Brittani's life. No red flags yet.
Tuesday, I was running to train for a 5k because I'm trying to get all 'fit' or something and I hurt my ankle pretty badly somehow. It's definitely a recurring thing because I'm just such a klutz so this isn't to surprising either just a bit of a bummer.
Wednesday, I was cutting watermelon after going for a two mile walk (because I couldn't run today with my ankle especially after I woke up and could barley walk on it), just trying to eat healthy, and I cut my hand in that spot between your thumb and pointer finger and it just would not clot. This is the second cut this year.
OH, and that's not to mention the fact that my allergies are basically killing me right now.
All of these events separately are pretty predictable events in my life. But I was sitting here thinking about how sucky it is that they all happened it one week. And I started thinking "Oh woe is me" and started wishing I had some cheese to go with my whine.
But I thought about how ungrateful that made me.
I was still able to walk. And talk. And breathe. And live! (Yes, I know that escalated quickly.)
I have this wonderful body I've been blessed with that, sure, I sometimes wish would be a little more invincible - but I have one. And it sure has taken a few beatings in my day (see here) But still I can wake up everyday and do things that I love.
Just one little change in perspective made all the difference. And I'm grateful I took a break from my pity party to find a way to have a real celebration.
Wednesday, May 28, 2014
Sunday, March 30, 2014
Eleven
It truly is a miracle - to me - that I've been able to survive here in Utah. I thought I might die from a million different things as silly as that seems in hindsight.
I believe the Lord blesses me with sunshine in the moments that I need it most. Last week, the weather was absolutely GORGEOUS. I love the sun and how happy it makes me and the people around me. It was so nice to not have to wear a jacket and be able to walk to class without getting pelted by rain or snow on the way there and know that the brightness lasts a little longer with each passing day as we get closer and closer to summer. Sitting on the grass and studying is amazing and seeing all the people as I walk to class makes me jealous and wish I could sit out there too for a little longer.
But of course it all comes to an end in the blink of an eye and Utah decides to revert back to it's winter tendencies and it decides to snow {I'm talking like a flash blizzard or some kind of ridiculous}. But much to my surprise, I've learned to embrace the winter weather like I do the sunshine. That's not to say I like it better, but I appreciate the beauty. I love the snow-covered mountains, hot chocolate, and bundling up with cute scarves, mittens, and headbands. I'm grateful for the time that I have with the snow. And then it needs to move on it's merry little way.
I feel like this translates to a lot in life. I've really tried to take time to enjoy the little moments, to take time to reflect. The sunshine, the snow, laughter, hugs, my car, music, friends, family, technology - just life.
In the end, life is bliss.
I believe the Lord blesses me with sunshine in the moments that I need it most. Last week, the weather was absolutely GORGEOUS. I love the sun and how happy it makes me and the people around me. It was so nice to not have to wear a jacket and be able to walk to class without getting pelted by rain or snow on the way there and know that the brightness lasts a little longer with each passing day as we get closer and closer to summer. Sitting on the grass and studying is amazing and seeing all the people as I walk to class makes me jealous and wish I could sit out there too for a little longer.
But of course it all comes to an end in the blink of an eye and Utah decides to revert back to it's winter tendencies and it decides to snow {I'm talking like a flash blizzard or some kind of ridiculous}. But much to my surprise, I've learned to embrace the winter weather like I do the sunshine. That's not to say I like it better, but I appreciate the beauty. I love the snow-covered mountains, hot chocolate, and bundling up with cute scarves, mittens, and headbands. I'm grateful for the time that I have with the snow. And then it needs to move on it's merry little way.
I feel like this translates to a lot in life. I've really tried to take time to enjoy the little moments, to take time to reflect. The sunshine, the snow, laughter, hugs, my car, music, friends, family, technology - just life.
In the end, life is bliss.
Wednesday, March 26, 2014
Ten
When I walked across the stage at graduation, there were a million and one emotions running through my head. But there was one thing that stuck out above everything else.
In the hands of Paul Larrea was a card. A card that, at the time, seemed to be on the epitome of the future. A few weeks back, we sat in Newnham's class and condensed the four years that we'd spent at CLHS onto a 3 x 5 card and everything we wanted to accomplish in life.
After attending a few graduations before my own, there was always the joke that everyone got together to write down the same occupation that they wanted.
I felt, in that moment, that I would be the one to break the norm. That at our 10-year reunion, I would be the one that accomplished everything on my card. I'd dig through our time capsule and find my card and smile with pride that I did it and beat the odds. I really truly believed that.
It didn't take long for me to realize that these anticipations weren't always the ideal, but rather dreams from ignorantly blissful high school graduates. We had all these hopes that we would make the past and future generations proud with our success as doctors, lawyers, teachers, dentists, cosmetologists - and it's not to say that these professions aren't admirable or attainable. But we had set our sights so high we didn't take time to evaluate reality.
And reality, I've come to realize, is this. There are so many choices in this world. Choices, that coming from a small town in Northern California, had never before been discovered. I mean we had maybe 10 choices of places to eat for crying out loud. When they tell you that you can study whatever you want, they mean it. When you don't understand why people are shocked at how you did so much in high school, you get it when you find you can only devote yourself to one thing because there really aren't enough hours in the day. When they say there's something and someone out there for everyone and we just have to experience it, it's the truth.
I got to BYU shocked by the options. The food thing was one of the most overwhelming to be honest. But the biggest surprise was asking people what they were studying and realizing the wide array of possibilities. Why did I think that, at 18 and completely inexperienced, I knew what I wanted out of life? I had this whole plan and yet it meant nothing 3 months down the road (forget 10 years). I wanted to study something that would help me incorporate my love for people and passion for biology and it seemed hard to find at first but I got it figured out.
And there's one thing they don't tell you before you walk across that stage
with the brink of the future laying out before you
while you're feeling on top of the world.
And that is that it's OKAY to fail. Failure leads to growth and change and learning. And that's what life's all about, isn't it?
In the hands of Paul Larrea was a card. A card that, at the time, seemed to be on the epitome of the future. A few weeks back, we sat in Newnham's class and condensed the four years that we'd spent at CLHS onto a 3 x 5 card and everything we wanted to accomplish in life.
After attending a few graduations before my own, there was always the joke that everyone got together to write down the same occupation that they wanted.
I felt, in that moment, that I would be the one to break the norm. That at our 10-year reunion, I would be the one that accomplished everything on my card. I'd dig through our time capsule and find my card and smile with pride that I did it and beat the odds. I really truly believed that.
It didn't take long for me to realize that these anticipations weren't always the ideal, but rather dreams from ignorantly blissful high school graduates. We had all these hopes that we would make the past and future generations proud with our success as doctors, lawyers, teachers, dentists, cosmetologists - and it's not to say that these professions aren't admirable or attainable. But we had set our sights so high we didn't take time to evaluate reality.
And reality, I've come to realize, is this. There are so many choices in this world. Choices, that coming from a small town in Northern California, had never before been discovered. I mean we had maybe 10 choices of places to eat for crying out loud. When they tell you that you can study whatever you want, they mean it. When you don't understand why people are shocked at how you did so much in high school, you get it when you find you can only devote yourself to one thing because there really aren't enough hours in the day. When they say there's something and someone out there for everyone and we just have to experience it, it's the truth.
I got to BYU shocked by the options. The food thing was one of the most overwhelming to be honest. But the biggest surprise was asking people what they were studying and realizing the wide array of possibilities. Why did I think that, at 18 and completely inexperienced, I knew what I wanted out of life? I had this whole plan and yet it meant nothing 3 months down the road (forget 10 years). I wanted to study something that would help me incorporate my love for people and passion for biology and it seemed hard to find at first but I got it figured out.
And there's one thing they don't tell you before you walk across that stage
with the brink of the future laying out before you
while you're feeling on top of the world.
And that is that it's OKAY to fail. Failure leads to growth and change and learning. And that's what life's all about, isn't it?
Sunday, March 9, 2014
Nine
Winter 2013 was a mess. I mean it was good, but it was a mess. One of my best friends was just accepted into the study abroad program in London and the other was contemplating a mission and my current roommate had decided to serve a mission. So seriously all the hours we had spent house hunting went out the window by the end of January. All I knew is that I really didn't want to be alone with a bunch of strangers in a new apartment and I didn't know where to go or what to do or anything. Then all of a sudden I thought maybe I should apply to be a Resident Assistant. It was something I honestly had mocked all the months leading up to it but after struggling with a ridiculous amount of loans for a ridiculously high rent in the Freshman Dorms, free housing was looking pretty promising. I knew I'd need a job so I thought why not apply and see where it goes.
I wasn't sure how my friends would take it and they thought I was joking when I told them. They even thought I was kidding when I said I was seriously contemplating it after being offered a position. I decided to go ahead and accept it.
So I did. And it has honestly changed my life.
I spent the summer praying that I would be the right fit for these girls and be able to connect with them and the people I worked with. I spent so much time coming up with a theme for the year and making cutesy decorations for the hall to make them feel welcome and seem more home-y. I showed up to RA training and started to get a little scared when we started talking about the aspects of the job we would be trained on. I swear I read the contract but maybe some lines were just filtered out as I read it and there was so much I didn't know that I would be doing or even if I could handle it.
I just felt thrown in. Like one of the situations where you learn to swim out of necessity rather than for leisure. {I mean, it worked, don't get me wrong}. I met all the girls and tried to remember their {60} names, where they were from, what they were studying, and keep tabs on our similarities so that would we would have something to talk about when I came to visit their apartments.
These girls are inspiring. They drive me nuts and wake me up early and lock themselves out more than I can count. But they teach me more than I feel I ever could them. I have been so blessed with the most self-sufficient girls and they actual listen to me {most of the time}. We've just spent the last year making memories and going through this experience. I'm honestly worried for the next year because I won't have my little nuggets within arms reach where I can cushion their blows and hold their hand and walk them through the chaos that is college. They bring me happiness when I see them get excited to see me and I LOVE gossiping with them and hearing about their lives. They drop by my place and I stop by theirs and we celebrate and cry together. I really, truly hope they will remember our friendships through the years because I know they have forever changed me. I've made some of the best friends this way and I'm grateful for the memories we have so far.
But we aren't done partying yet.
I wasn't sure how my friends would take it and they thought I was joking when I told them. They even thought I was kidding when I said I was seriously contemplating it after being offered a position. I decided to go ahead and accept it.
So I did. And it has honestly changed my life.
I spent the summer praying that I would be the right fit for these girls and be able to connect with them and the people I worked with. I spent so much time coming up with a theme for the year and making cutesy decorations for the hall to make them feel welcome and seem more home-y. I showed up to RA training and started to get a little scared when we started talking about the aspects of the job we would be trained on. I swear I read the contract but maybe some lines were just filtered out as I read it and there was so much I didn't know that I would be doing or even if I could handle it.
I just felt thrown in. Like one of the situations where you learn to swim out of necessity rather than for leisure. {I mean, it worked, don't get me wrong}. I met all the girls and tried to remember their {60} names, where they were from, what they were studying, and keep tabs on our similarities so that would we would have something to talk about when I came to visit their apartments.
These girls are inspiring. They drive me nuts and wake me up early and lock themselves out more than I can count. But they teach me more than I feel I ever could them. I have been so blessed with the most self-sufficient girls and they actual listen to me {most of the time}. We've just spent the last year making memories and going through this experience. I'm honestly worried for the next year because I won't have my little nuggets within arms reach where I can cushion their blows and hold their hand and walk them through the chaos that is college. They bring me happiness when I see them get excited to see me and I LOVE gossiping with them and hearing about their lives. They drop by my place and I stop by theirs and we celebrate and cry together. I really, truly hope they will remember our friendships through the years because I know they have forever changed me. I've made some of the best friends this way and I'm grateful for the memories we have so far.
But we aren't done partying yet.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Eight
Lately, I've been thinking a lot about the love of my Heavenly Father. I've spent much of my life praying for guidance and direction and as I've been working on entries for this I've realized how literally everything goes back to him. More importantly, He blesses me with what he knows is best for me and it's nine times out of ten not on my time schedule. Sometimes, I receive answers when I'm not even expecting them or I don't recognize they're answers till I do something like this and look back on my life.
Recently, I've been thinking about my plans for the next year. There's a lot to be done and a lot to figure out and it's STRESSFUL - no way around that.
A few weeks ago I realized that after April 26, I'd be homeless, jobless, and more or less broke. Oh, and can't forget, I'm a college student on top of all that so naturally I have money owed there, too. Mind you, I'd been thinking about it for a while and knew that it'd come around eventually, but eventually was always later rather than sooner. I thought that since I got my academic plan figured out for the next two years, I'd just have everything else work out normally. Right? Ha. No. This is Real Life: Provo Edition.
So naturally I just put it off longer.
I prayed about it every night to hopefully get some guidance. In all honesty, the nightmare that is housing is what ultimately drove me to be an RA {more on that on a later date}. I knew that I had a few friends that might want to live with me but then you have to find all these contracts together that fit everyone's budgets and schedules and do you want to sign a year contract or month-to-month or maybe just the semester? What amenities do you want? How close do you want to be to campus? Like it really is the pits.
Growing up is rough.
THEN, I needed to find a job. Like, I'd decided not to work anymore for reslife. So then I need to leave my apartment and find a new job all in one fell swoop. I'm a 19-year-old college student with barely enough credentials to get a job and now I'm going to be paying bills and rent and car insurance and working AND going to school. {Trust me, I know I'm not the only one. People do it all the time and I honestly would kiss the ground they walk on if I could point them out of a crowd. Shout to the parents for always covering that for me growing up.}
When Aj was here we tried to take the easy way out and just ask Mom if she'd buy us a condo we could rent from her. That definitely didn't fly. So then we started sending links to each other and figuring out what we needed and wanted and how much we wanted to pay and all that jazz. And even that is rough! There's no single website for BYU-contracted housing that I'm required to live in so you just have to search it out and knock doors and whatever else to make it happen.
-After some time, a lot of praying, and some talking to people-
It finally all came together! I have a place to live with someone near and dear to my heart. With literally everything that I wanted. And also openings for the people who had talked about living with me. What! It's amazing. And I didn't realize that this wasn't just some miracle or some happenstance that stumbled across my path. It was my answer. My miracle. And after talking to a few people and brainstorming I might even have a job that will work with the insanity that is my life with school and Camp Kesem and the minimal social life that I have.
The moment when the pieces actually come together remind me to thank those that have helped me but also the recognize the hand of the Lord in all things. I know that life is substantially harder without relying on Him for help. And I'm so grateful to know that I have such a wonderful support group behind me.
Recently, I've been thinking about my plans for the next year. There's a lot to be done and a lot to figure out and it's STRESSFUL - no way around that.
A few weeks ago I realized that after April 26, I'd be homeless, jobless, and more or less broke. Oh, and can't forget, I'm a college student on top of all that so naturally I have money owed there, too. Mind you, I'd been thinking about it for a while and knew that it'd come around eventually, but eventually was always later rather than sooner. I thought that since I got my academic plan figured out for the next two years, I'd just have everything else work out normally. Right? Ha. No. This is Real Life: Provo Edition.
So naturally I just put it off longer.
I prayed about it every night to hopefully get some guidance. In all honesty, the nightmare that is housing is what ultimately drove me to be an RA {more on that on a later date}. I knew that I had a few friends that might want to live with me but then you have to find all these contracts together that fit everyone's budgets and schedules and do you want to sign a year contract or month-to-month or maybe just the semester? What amenities do you want? How close do you want to be to campus? Like it really is the pits.
Growing up is rough.
THEN, I needed to find a job. Like, I'd decided not to work anymore for reslife. So then I need to leave my apartment and find a new job all in one fell swoop. I'm a 19-year-old college student with barely enough credentials to get a job and now I'm going to be paying bills and rent and car insurance and working AND going to school. {Trust me, I know I'm not the only one. People do it all the time and I honestly would kiss the ground they walk on if I could point them out of a crowd. Shout to the parents for always covering that for me growing up.}
When Aj was here we tried to take the easy way out and just ask Mom if she'd buy us a condo we could rent from her. That definitely didn't fly. So then we started sending links to each other and figuring out what we needed and wanted and how much we wanted to pay and all that jazz. And even that is rough! There's no single website for BYU-contracted housing that I'm required to live in so you just have to search it out and knock doors and whatever else to make it happen.
-After some time, a lot of praying, and some talking to people-
It finally all came together! I have a place to live with someone near and dear to my heart. With literally everything that I wanted. And also openings for the people who had talked about living with me. What! It's amazing. And I didn't realize that this wasn't just some miracle or some happenstance that stumbled across my path. It was my answer. My miracle. And after talking to a few people and brainstorming I might even have a job that will work with the insanity that is my life with school and Camp Kesem and the minimal social life that I have.
The moment when the pieces actually come together remind me to thank those that have helped me but also the recognize the hand of the Lord in all things. I know that life is substantially harder without relying on Him for help. And I'm so grateful to know that I have such a wonderful support group behind me.
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Seven
Sometimes I wonder how I'm not permanently broken. It's to the point that when I tell anyone I got hurt {again} they straight up just laugh at me because it's so expected.
It all started way, way back when I was a little girl. My dad lifted me up while the ceiling fan was on an it split my head open and I had to get stitches. Like 10 or something. I don't really remember it, I just know the story from it being passed down through the years. Also I have a scar on my forehead right next to my hairline.
Through elementary school - this part I do remember - I was always in the office getting fixed up because I had tripped outside during recess on the asphalt and now my knees or my hands were all bloody.
One of the first times we went up to Lakeport, my stepsiblings were like, "Hey, let's go ride the scooters down the hill by the police station where the speed thing is so we can see how fast we are going!" It all seemed like so much fun and I was never one to shy away from adventure {I've tried to wise up a little since then.} The twist to the story is that I was wearing my FIRST pair of flip flops. My mom never though it was a good idea to let me wear them before then because I'm so klutzy. She was right. As I was taking my turn going down the hill, I wiped out. Bad. I grabbed my shoes and ran out of the road because a car was coming and someone else had to run out into the road to grab the scooter I'd left there. That one took a while to clean up my foot I just sat there wondering why I ever thought flip flops were a good idea. I still have a scar on my foot from that one as well and I also wear flip flops all the time. Lesson learned?
Next, I decided to play hooky from school one day in the 5th grade. My stepsiblings were in a different district as me at the time so they had the day off and mom let me stay home. We were out all day doing kid stuff - riding bikes and the like. Our house is right by a golf course and it's located in between two hills with more hills all around it. So we're riding around and it's all fun and whatnot. Then we find this HUGE hill on the golf course that we took the effort to walk up so that we could go down. I'm sure I thought at some point it wouldn't turn out well but of course I went anyway. The first time I went down there were no problems and it was way fun. We went back later in the day and decided to go again. This time I was on a different bike. One that probably wasn't the best for this hill. But I go down with confidence because I did it earlier that day. I start going and lose control and flip over the handlebars {I think} and try to brace myself. Then I just screamed because it hurt so badly. A had known I was going down and started running right away. I sat there and all I could think was that my mom was gonna kill me and she was gonna be so mad. We walked back to the house and my wrist and my face kinda hurt. I get home and everyone's freaking out. Mom gives me some drugs and has me set down my hands on the table because I said my wrist hurt. The right was looked off so we went to the ER - yep, it was broken. Claaaaaaasic Brittani. I was miserable the next day. My wrist was broken, I had grass stains in my eyebrows and hair and road rash on my cheeks, I couldn't shower normally and to top it all off we went to the park and everyone got to go on the swings but I couldn't because I was broken. This injury paid off pretty nicely though - people got to take my tests for me because I couldn't write with either hand. Also, I was scared to ditch school for a LONG time after that.
I held up pretty well until my sophomore year. One morning I was walking out of the house to go to seminary and I missed a step on the porch. Rolled my ankle pretty badly but just got up because I couldn't be late and we were going to San Francisco that day to see Wicked. Apparently, my body went into shock on the way to town because I was shaky and stuff. This one I didn't feel as badly about because mom did it a few years later. There's now a sensor light installed outside.
Junior year I did it again. Somehow when I was walking out of the band room I tripped on the mound of backpacks against the back wall and my foot got stuck in a strap of one of the backpacks and down I went! My ankle popped and started swelling right away. I did the walk of shame to Milo's office for ice and to ask what he thought I should do. I kept my shoe on all day and iced probably too much. I was fine until I went to get ready for cheer practice that day. That's when I really started freaking out because it was the week of our first game (aka my first game back in 2 seasons) I took of my shoes to put on my school shoes and there was no way it was happening. Like, I couldn't fit my shoe on because my foot had gotten so fat. Much to my dismay, my coach made me sit out. When my mom finally got there she took me to the doctor and I went everyday leading up to the game. I was able to perform but I had some tape on my ankle and hobbled through a lot of it. It slowly got better until, of course, a few weeks later I came down wrong from a jump and there was no give in my ankle so the pain shot up to my knee. That one hurt. I held back the tears and finished the routine and lost it as soon as it was over. The combination of those two led to an interesting season following. Lots of braces, that's for sure.
One time I wore heels walking around Salt Lake City and that messed up my foot pretty badly. It was swollen for a couple weeks and I had to carefully plan outfits because I could only wear certain shoes.
This past December, I tried jumping over the couch and something {I really don't know what} happened and I sprained my ankle really badly. I couldn't make it to my bedroom to sleep that night and just stayed on the couch. Walking was a struggle. I ended up borrowing some crutches and pretended like I was okay but A made me go to the doctor. I was SO embarrassed as I told every staff member what happened - the lady at the front desk, the attractive male nurse to check me in, the x-ray tech, the doctor, and the nurse that gave me my brace. Oh yeah, I had x-rays because they thought I broke my ankle. From jumping over the couch. I had to wear a brace for a while and Disneyland wasn't too pleasant on my ankle either. I always get a little weary when it snows because I'm so afraid I'll hurt it again and then next one will break. {Every ankle injury was to the same foot.}
So the moral of this story is I'm a klutz, right? Partially, yes. But also, I've realized lately how wonderful our bodies are. Our Heavenly Father blessed us with these AMAZING things that let us make mistakes and learn from them and work toward eternal salvation. More importantly, each and every bruise we've ever had, every broken bone, every scratch HEALS. That's important. We are able to heal physically of course, but we are also able to heal spiritually. Our soul can heal. The bruises, breaks, and scratches go away. We will always remember the struggles but no one else can see them and that's why we need to take advantage of the Atonement and apply it in our lives so that we can forgive ourselves. No matter how much we mess up, we have the ability to make up for it.
It all started way, way back when I was a little girl. My dad lifted me up while the ceiling fan was on an it split my head open and I had to get stitches. Like 10 or something. I don't really remember it, I just know the story from it being passed down through the years. Also I have a scar on my forehead right next to my hairline.
Through elementary school - this part I do remember - I was always in the office getting fixed up because I had tripped outside during recess on the asphalt and now my knees or my hands were all bloody.
One of the first times we went up to Lakeport, my stepsiblings were like, "Hey, let's go ride the scooters down the hill by the police station where the speed thing is so we can see how fast we are going!" It all seemed like so much fun and I was never one to shy away from adventure {I've tried to wise up a little since then.} The twist to the story is that I was wearing my FIRST pair of flip flops. My mom never though it was a good idea to let me wear them before then because I'm so klutzy. She was right. As I was taking my turn going down the hill, I wiped out. Bad. I grabbed my shoes and ran out of the road because a car was coming and someone else had to run out into the road to grab the scooter I'd left there. That one took a while to clean up my foot I just sat there wondering why I ever thought flip flops were a good idea. I still have a scar on my foot from that one as well and I also wear flip flops all the time. Lesson learned?
Next, I decided to play hooky from school one day in the 5th grade. My stepsiblings were in a different district as me at the time so they had the day off and mom let me stay home. We were out all day doing kid stuff - riding bikes and the like. Our house is right by a golf course and it's located in between two hills with more hills all around it. So we're riding around and it's all fun and whatnot. Then we find this HUGE hill on the golf course that we took the effort to walk up so that we could go down. I'm sure I thought at some point it wouldn't turn out well but of course I went anyway. The first time I went down there were no problems and it was way fun. We went back later in the day and decided to go again. This time I was on a different bike. One that probably wasn't the best for this hill. But I go down with confidence because I did it earlier that day. I start going and lose control and flip over the handlebars {I think} and try to brace myself. Then I just screamed because it hurt so badly. A had known I was going down and started running right away. I sat there and all I could think was that my mom was gonna kill me and she was gonna be so mad. We walked back to the house and my wrist and my face kinda hurt. I get home and everyone's freaking out. Mom gives me some drugs and has me set down my hands on the table because I said my wrist hurt. The right was looked off so we went to the ER - yep, it was broken. Claaaaaaasic Brittani. I was miserable the next day. My wrist was broken, I had grass stains in my eyebrows and hair and road rash on my cheeks, I couldn't shower normally and to top it all off we went to the park and everyone got to go on the swings but I couldn't because I was broken. This injury paid off pretty nicely though - people got to take my tests for me because I couldn't write with either hand. Also, I was scared to ditch school for a LONG time after that.
I held up pretty well until my sophomore year. One morning I was walking out of the house to go to seminary and I missed a step on the porch. Rolled my ankle pretty badly but just got up because I couldn't be late and we were going to San Francisco that day to see Wicked. Apparently, my body went into shock on the way to town because I was shaky and stuff. This one I didn't feel as badly about because mom did it a few years later. There's now a sensor light installed outside.
Junior year I did it again. Somehow when I was walking out of the band room I tripped on the mound of backpacks against the back wall and my foot got stuck in a strap of one of the backpacks and down I went! My ankle popped and started swelling right away. I did the walk of shame to Milo's office for ice and to ask what he thought I should do. I kept my shoe on all day and iced probably too much. I was fine until I went to get ready for cheer practice that day. That's when I really started freaking out because it was the week of our first game (aka my first game back in 2 seasons) I took of my shoes to put on my school shoes and there was no way it was happening. Like, I couldn't fit my shoe on because my foot had gotten so fat. Much to my dismay, my coach made me sit out. When my mom finally got there she took me to the doctor and I went everyday leading up to the game. I was able to perform but I had some tape on my ankle and hobbled through a lot of it. It slowly got better until, of course, a few weeks later I came down wrong from a jump and there was no give in my ankle so the pain shot up to my knee. That one hurt. I held back the tears and finished the routine and lost it as soon as it was over. The combination of those two led to an interesting season following. Lots of braces, that's for sure.
One time I wore heels walking around Salt Lake City and that messed up my foot pretty badly. It was swollen for a couple weeks and I had to carefully plan outfits because I could only wear certain shoes.
This past December, I tried jumping over the couch and something {I really don't know what} happened and I sprained my ankle really badly. I couldn't make it to my bedroom to sleep that night and just stayed on the couch. Walking was a struggle. I ended up borrowing some crutches and pretended like I was okay but A made me go to the doctor. I was SO embarrassed as I told every staff member what happened - the lady at the front desk, the attractive male nurse to check me in, the x-ray tech, the doctor, and the nurse that gave me my brace. Oh yeah, I had x-rays because they thought I broke my ankle. From jumping over the couch. I had to wear a brace for a while and Disneyland wasn't too pleasant on my ankle either. I always get a little weary when it snows because I'm so afraid I'll hurt it again and then next one will break. {Every ankle injury was to the same foot.}
So the moral of this story is I'm a klutz, right? Partially, yes. But also, I've realized lately how wonderful our bodies are. Our Heavenly Father blessed us with these AMAZING things that let us make mistakes and learn from them and work toward eternal salvation. More importantly, each and every bruise we've ever had, every broken bone, every scratch HEALS. That's important. We are able to heal physically of course, but we are also able to heal spiritually. Our soul can heal. The bruises, breaks, and scratches go away. We will always remember the struggles but no one else can see them and that's why we need to take advantage of the Atonement and apply it in our lives so that we can forgive ourselves. No matter how much we mess up, we have the ability to make up for it.
And that's pretty miraculous.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
Six
I met them in 2005, back in the sixth grade. It was rouuuuuuugh. Middle school was definitely the bane of my existence. Luckily, life has been uphill from that time but it was a struggle. Like I've mentioned before, that was my third school in three years. I was probably the most awkward twelve-year-old you'll ever meet. I was me and didn't care what other people said (at least in front of them) I jumped friend groups and tried to find who I was. I had to deal with these new hormones and the fact that boys were cute now and that people were 'dating' now and all that chaos. (Side note: people of opposite genders weren't allowed to hug on campus. I've always found that comical for whatever reason). I saw the world through new eyes and sometimes felt I was years above everyone else.
Add to that the fact that I was the "new girl" literally disrupting the natural flow of friends that had been in place since 1999. These kids had known each other since kindergarten, some even from birth. Like I'm not making this up. The people that were friends in kindergarten kept being friends through the time I showed up until graduation. No one wanted to make friends because they already had them. And I mean, I don't know that I would've been very welcoming to me either. I consider myself pretty outgoing and I forced my way in to be friends with these people. I mean, I couldn't be alone forever and I had at least 7 years left in this place.
That was when I met them. We had English/Language Arts together with Mr. A, who had become a teacher as a retirement job. Mr. A loved what he did and that made us love it too. It was the only class in the sixth grade that was divided up by testing - meaning we had to take a generalized test and the people who scored the highest were in Mr. A's class so that it could be more challenging and focused. I never thought of it that way though. I saw it as the time when I could see more than the thirty kids that I saw every other period of the day. And it was most definitely more fun.
There's things from that year I STILL remember learning. That "a lot" is two words. That you can misspell spider "sipider" and butterfly "butteryfly". That there is a time to talk and laugh and a time to take things seriously. And that even teachers hated the fact that they had so much paperwork to do so they found loopholes for everything.
Among the people in that class, I met some people that would change my life. There was a group of boys who everyone knew. I mean everyone. They were talked about and people always knew they'd be together. They didn't really talk to anyone else and to be honest they were a little nerdy. (They still are pretty nerdy but I've learned to love it).
Our relationship started out really weird. I really don't know how it happened - they definitely used to make fun of me and I'm pretty sure we were just weird to each other (I mean it was middle school) and since we were in that English/Language Arts class together, we continued to have classes together through middle school and high school. We all did band. A lot of them played football and I cheered. There definitely was a lot of exposure to each other.
I can remember the exact moment I got my name as "Momma Goose" though. We were getting ready to play at a concert in high school. I had to go around fixing everyone's collars because I'm ocd like that and it had become kind of expected. And then K said. "Thanks Momma Goose. Always making sure we look nice."
Through the years, things changed and these boys became my family. I looked out for them and they were protective of me. I heard things I sometimes wish I hadn't but always felt special that they included me. It melted my heart when Mrs. I called them my boys - everyone understood the dynamic of our relationship and I loved that. They're the ones that I still talk to, the ones I want to share important things with, and the ones I want IN my wedding. It's weird but it works.
They taught me so much through the years that I will always appreciate and hold dear to my heart and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of them and worry about them like I always have. They're my pride and joy and I brag about them and people probably get annoyed but I don't care because I know that my boys will take care of the haters.
And though we might not see each other everyday or even talk to each other everyday anymore, they will always be there in everything that I do because I don't want to have to hear the critiques if I mess up.
Add to that the fact that I was the "new girl" literally disrupting the natural flow of friends that had been in place since 1999. These kids had known each other since kindergarten, some even from birth. Like I'm not making this up. The people that were friends in kindergarten kept being friends through the time I showed up until graduation. No one wanted to make friends because they already had them. And I mean, I don't know that I would've been very welcoming to me either. I consider myself pretty outgoing and I forced my way in to be friends with these people. I mean, I couldn't be alone forever and I had at least 7 years left in this place.
That was when I met them. We had English/Language Arts together with Mr. A, who had become a teacher as a retirement job. Mr. A loved what he did and that made us love it too. It was the only class in the sixth grade that was divided up by testing - meaning we had to take a generalized test and the people who scored the highest were in Mr. A's class so that it could be more challenging and focused. I never thought of it that way though. I saw it as the time when I could see more than the thirty kids that I saw every other period of the day. And it was most definitely more fun.
There's things from that year I STILL remember learning. That "a lot" is two words. That you can misspell spider "sipider" and butterfly "butteryfly". That there is a time to talk and laugh and a time to take things seriously. And that even teachers hated the fact that they had so much paperwork to do so they found loopholes for everything.
Among the people in that class, I met some people that would change my life. There was a group of boys who everyone knew. I mean everyone. They were talked about and people always knew they'd be together. They didn't really talk to anyone else and to be honest they were a little nerdy. (They still are pretty nerdy but I've learned to love it).
Our relationship started out really weird. I really don't know how it happened - they definitely used to make fun of me and I'm pretty sure we were just weird to each other (I mean it was middle school) and since we were in that English/Language Arts class together, we continued to have classes together through middle school and high school. We all did band. A lot of them played football and I cheered. There definitely was a lot of exposure to each other.
I can remember the exact moment I got my name as "Momma Goose" though. We were getting ready to play at a concert in high school. I had to go around fixing everyone's collars because I'm ocd like that and it had become kind of expected. And then K said. "Thanks Momma Goose. Always making sure we look nice."
Through the years, things changed and these boys became my family. I looked out for them and they were protective of me. I heard things I sometimes wish I hadn't but always felt special that they included me. It melted my heart when Mrs. I called them my boys - everyone understood the dynamic of our relationship and I loved that. They're the ones that I still talk to, the ones I want to share important things with, and the ones I want IN my wedding. It's weird but it works.
They taught me so much through the years that I will always appreciate and hold dear to my heart and there's not a day that goes by that I don't think of them and worry about them like I always have. They're my pride and joy and I brag about them and people probably get annoyed but I don't care because I know that my boys will take care of the haters.
And though we might not see each other everyday or even talk to each other everyday anymore, they will always be there in everything that I do because I don't want to have to hear the critiques if I mess up.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
Five
Summer 2011, I met one of the most inspirational people in my life.
But I wouldn't know it until almost a year and a half later.
K and I ended up in the same EFY group (and neighbors) by chance. That's how these things work. We took the cheesy pictures together. We had some late night memories. We gossiped and laughed together that week. And the end of the week came and we exchanged numbers and became facebook friends and parted ways. We'd chat occasionally - Senior year was busy of course. And we both went about the craziness that is life.
Being the procrastinators we are Because we both were undecided about where we'd be attending school, we waited to put in our housing requests. We both didn't want to be at BYU and we both thought we had better offers. So once we went through the whole process of enrolling and choosing housing (which is a whole other story), we contacted each other to see if we were actually both going to be at BYU and where we'd be living.
We were in the same building.
On the same floor.
I was excited to see her that fall and I was glad I'd know at least one person before I got this school and become a number in the 32,000 student population. We chatted here and there before we got to campus. But I think once we saw each other again on move-in day, we were inseparable after that.
She became my rock those first few months - we'd sit and cry on the floor in my bedroom together. We'd change the lyrics to songs to make them applicable to us. We spent so many random, wild nights together. SO many memories.
She's been my example in more ways than one. She is selfless and brave and caring. She'd spend the night in jail for me - I just know it.
But I wouldn't know it until almost a year and a half later.
K and I ended up in the same EFY group (and neighbors) by chance. That's how these things work. We took the cheesy pictures together. We had some late night memories. We gossiped and laughed together that week. And the end of the week came and we exchanged numbers and became facebook friends and parted ways. We'd chat occasionally - Senior year was busy of course. And we both went about the craziness that is life.
We were in the same building.
On the same floor.
I was excited to see her that fall and I was glad I'd know at least one person before I got this school and become a number in the 32,000 student population. We chatted here and there before we got to campus. But I think once we saw each other again on move-in day, we were inseparable after that.
She became my rock those first few months - we'd sit and cry on the floor in my bedroom together. We'd change the lyrics to songs to make them applicable to us. We spent so many random, wild nights together. SO many memories.
She's been my example in more ways than one. She is selfless and brave and caring. She'd spend the night in jail for me - I just know it.
Thursday, January 30, 2014
Four
In the summer of 2004, my life got flipped, turned upside down. (Fresh Prince of Bel-Air anyone?)
Mind you, I was only 10 years old, but I can honestly pinpoint that time as a huge turning point for me.
I moved.
Yep, a move in between the fourth and fifth grades altered my life.
My mom got remarried in June of 2004 and it was time for us to move to a small town in Northern California that I honestly didn't even know the name of for a few weeks until after we had moved in. I had to leave all my friends that I'd known since birth and go to this new place with seven new siblings that I couldn't remember the names of most of the time and a million other things. And I remember being so angry. And obviously I cried because I tend to do that when I don't like something. (I swear I'm aging in reverse. I'll I want to do is sleep and I cry when I don't get what I want. Am I the next Benjamin Button?)
The first few years were a blur - a lot of adjusting and adjusting again, starting at not one but two new schools, a broken wrist somewhere in there, (I think there was A's tennis racquet incident too), trying new things and then stopping them, getting ahead and falling behind - you know, the normal problems that come to a pre-teen. Let me tell you, that phase of life is just the best.
Then it blended into middle school which is also just the highlight of my life. So much greatness happened there. Okay, but no. Middle school was the worst. Those three years of EVERYONE'S life should just be spent in a closet or something and I'm just so grateful that I don't have braces anymore and I finally learned that some styles should be left to die (Never go with the fads. And don't wear like 20 different colors, B, like what were you thinking).
High school was better. I met people I can say have shaped me into the person I am today. I really feel like that's when I first decided to 'stick it to the man' and live my life for ME. Plus I met the greatest people ever and I really learned to appreciate the podunk town I lived in. It is a part of me in everything that I do.
While this is really a crash course in the story of my life, there is a point. What good came from the move?
My family grew exponentially.
I gained SEVEN new siblings. They've taught me how to love and how to laugh. They've taught me patience and acceptance. They've taught me how to live life to the fullest and to go out and experience the world. More importantly they've how best to tackle someone to get the gift card you want off the tree for Christmas and the appropriate colors for frosting when you want to shove someone's face in a cake and make them have colors up their nose (and ears) for the next few days.
I gained a bunch of adopted brothers - my bulldogs. They've made me feel special and not only needed, but wanted. They taught me to keep my standards high, but also that it's okay to let loose every once in a while. They've taught me the power of friendship that is so strong, it's life-long. They're more than just people to hang out with when I get bored. They're the ones that would find a way to make it halfway across the world if I needed them. They're also really great at "What if?" hypothetical situations that make class more interesting.
My biggest family addition was the town. Everyone in that small community reaches out in a time of need. They taught me the importance of service and giving. They taught me that it was okay to talk to that person on the street if you knew them. That they're your biggest cheerleaders and will be there long after you toss your cap at graduation. And while I sometimes hated the fact that nothing was private, I secretly loved the fact that I knew someone was always looking out for me.
That town is me. Every spot has a memory, a story, that reminds me how wonderful it was to live there. And that though I've moved on, it's frozen in time, always ready to welcome me back.
Mind you, I was only 10 years old, but I can honestly pinpoint that time as a huge turning point for me.
I moved.
Yep, a move in between the fourth and fifth grades altered my life.
My mom got remarried in June of 2004 and it was time for us to move to a small town in Northern California that I honestly didn't even know the name of for a few weeks until after we had moved in. I had to leave all my friends that I'd known since birth and go to this new place with seven new siblings that I couldn't remember the names of most of the time and a million other things. And I remember being so angry. And obviously I cried because I tend to do that when I don't like something. (I swear I'm aging in reverse. I'll I want to do is sleep and I cry when I don't get what I want. Am I the next Benjamin Button?)
The first few years were a blur - a lot of adjusting and adjusting again, starting at not one but two new schools, a broken wrist somewhere in there, (I think there was A's tennis racquet incident too), trying new things and then stopping them, getting ahead and falling behind - you know, the normal problems that come to a pre-teen. Let me tell you, that phase of life is just the best.
Then it blended into middle school which is also just the highlight of my life. So much greatness happened there. Okay, but no. Middle school was the worst. Those three years of EVERYONE'S life should just be spent in a closet or something and I'm just so grateful that I don't have braces anymore and I finally learned that some styles should be left to die (Never go with the fads. And don't wear like 20 different colors, B, like what were you thinking).
High school was better. I met people I can say have shaped me into the person I am today. I really feel like that's when I first decided to 'stick it to the man' and live my life for ME. Plus I met the greatest people ever and I really learned to appreciate the podunk town I lived in. It is a part of me in everything that I do.
While this is really a crash course in the story of my life, there is a point. What good came from the move?
My family grew exponentially.
I gained SEVEN new siblings. They've taught me how to love and how to laugh. They've taught me patience and acceptance. They've taught me how to live life to the fullest and to go out and experience the world. More importantly they've how best to tackle someone to get the gift card you want off the tree for Christmas and the appropriate colors for frosting when you want to shove someone's face in a cake and make them have colors up their nose (and ears) for the next few days.
I gained a bunch of adopted brothers - my bulldogs. They've made me feel special and not only needed, but wanted. They taught me to keep my standards high, but also that it's okay to let loose every once in a while. They've taught me the power of friendship that is so strong, it's life-long. They're more than just people to hang out with when I get bored. They're the ones that would find a way to make it halfway across the world if I needed them. They're also really great at "What if?" hypothetical situations that make class more interesting.
My biggest family addition was the town. Everyone in that small community reaches out in a time of need. They taught me the importance of service and giving. They taught me that it was okay to talk to that person on the street if you knew them. That they're your biggest cheerleaders and will be there long after you toss your cap at graduation. And while I sometimes hated the fact that nothing was private, I secretly loved the fact that I knew someone was always looking out for me.
That town is me. Every spot has a memory, a story, that reminds me how wonderful it was to live there. And that though I've moved on, it's frozen in time, always ready to welcome me back.
Monday, January 27, 2014
Three
"You guys," Griff said, "what we do is really cool."
It hit me today how much I love what I do.
-
If you haven't read the last post you should and this will be even better.
-
The second day I was at BYU, there was a fair for all the service groups on campus at New Student Orientation. Me, being the overachiever I am, had checked out the Y-Serve website to find out about all the opportunities that awaited me once I got to Provo because, you know, I had to figure it out some time. I meandered through all the options and signed up for a couple things but nothing really got me excited (except for one group that was similar to one in high school but they were really poorly organized. Anyway, not important.) And I honestly got a little discouraged. I'd never had a problem finding something interesting for myself to do.
And then I saw a silly, green and blue caterpillar that would forever change my life.
I'm pretty sure that I ran up to the booth. This was the one group I had gotten excited about when I saw it online. No car needed, work with kids affected by cancer, awesome. All stuff that applied to me.
I listened to the schpeal from Mr. Incredible himself. His passion was shown not only in the words which he spoke but in his eyes. It's this indescribable happiness that comes from working with these kids.
I got really excited about this opportunity and I thought to myself that maybe Provo wouldn't be so bad. I got an email for an application and I filled it out and took it to the first meeting. I remember meeting all these people with super weird names and being so confused - Griff, Eva, Wall-e, Green Monster.. they all had the same look in their eyes as Mr. Incredible did as they showed pictures from camp that year. They kept saying how life-changing it would be and I just brushed off.
"That's what they all say about their service groups. That's what service is SUPPOSED to do," I kept thinking.
But I turned in my application, still so excited.
Then I got an email that I needed to do another application online so I did.
Then I sat around and waited. And waited. And waited.
The timing was too good to be true. It was right around some of the hardest times of last year. I was honestly thinking of transferring schools. I struggled every day to find the purpose in me struggling through school. I just wanted to be home.
Until I got a text from Squishy. She was inviting me over to her house for their coord meeting so I could see more of what they were about. Rumor has it, a lot of people were invited. I was the only one that showed up.
I was still so confused by all the names - Curious George, Glinda, Elmo, Buttercup, Benji, Rev - but that was the first time I met some of the greatest and most influential people in my life. They sat and laughed and had this look of near desperation as they worked to plan a camp for these kids that they would put on if their life depended on it, if it was the last thing they did.
I started working on stuff right away. Looking for donors, telling people about this awesome cause, asking everything I could do. I went in to my interview just so so excited. Honestly getting the call that I'd been accepted as a counselor was one of the greatest ways to be woken up.
I went home for the summer and counted down the days till I got back to Utah so I could go to camp. Literally all my plans revolved around these kids I hadn't even met.
I showed up to camp and I felt SO nervous. I don't know why I was but I was scared to death. I thought maybe the kids wouldn't like me or maybe all the hype wasn't really what it would amount to. There's no way this week could be as life-changing as they said it was.
To say the week exceeded my expectations is an understatement. It changed my life. I didn't just meet some kids. I made a new family. These kids are my inspiration and motivation - they are why I do what I do. The pictures I have of them I keep near to my heart and encourage me to stand strong against my daily battles. Their enormous amounts of courage and strength have spread into my life. They remind me to love the little moments and to appreciate the things I have NOW rather than waiting till later.
Camp Kesem came into my life almost by accident, but it's become my everything. It pulled me out of one of the biggest trials in my life, but I literally am bursting from the seams with gratitude. I finally understand the passion that Mr. Incredible had that first day that I met him. It's one of those experiences you just want everyone to have and you wish that they believed you when you told them it changed your life.
I'm grateful that these kids are here for me, but more importantly that I can be there for them. That through their highs and lows, we're a family. And that means the world to me.
-
If you would like to help me make a difference in the lives of children struggling with a parent's cancer, click here to donate.
It hit me today how much I love what I do.
-
If you haven't read the last post you should and this will be even better.
-
The second day I was at BYU, there was a fair for all the service groups on campus at New Student Orientation. Me, being the overachiever I am, had checked out the Y-Serve website to find out about all the opportunities that awaited me once I got to Provo because, you know, I had to figure it out some time. I meandered through all the options and signed up for a couple things but nothing really got me excited (except for one group that was similar to one in high school but they were really poorly organized. Anyway, not important.) And I honestly got a little discouraged. I'd never had a problem finding something interesting for myself to do.
And then I saw a silly, green and blue caterpillar that would forever change my life.
I'm pretty sure that I ran up to the booth. This was the one group I had gotten excited about when I saw it online. No car needed, work with kids affected by cancer, awesome. All stuff that applied to me.
I listened to the schpeal from Mr. Incredible himself. His passion was shown not only in the words which he spoke but in his eyes. It's this indescribable happiness that comes from working with these kids.
I got really excited about this opportunity and I thought to myself that maybe Provo wouldn't be so bad. I got an email for an application and I filled it out and took it to the first meeting. I remember meeting all these people with super weird names and being so confused - Griff, Eva, Wall-e, Green Monster.. they all had the same look in their eyes as Mr. Incredible did as they showed pictures from camp that year. They kept saying how life-changing it would be and I just brushed off.
"That's what they all say about their service groups. That's what service is SUPPOSED to do," I kept thinking.
But I turned in my application, still so excited.
Then I got an email that I needed to do another application online so I did.
Then I sat around and waited. And waited. And waited.
The timing was too good to be true. It was right around some of the hardest times of last year. I was honestly thinking of transferring schools. I struggled every day to find the purpose in me struggling through school. I just wanted to be home.
Until I got a text from Squishy. She was inviting me over to her house for their coord meeting so I could see more of what they were about. Rumor has it, a lot of people were invited. I was the only one that showed up.
I was still so confused by all the names - Curious George, Glinda, Elmo, Buttercup, Benji, Rev - but that was the first time I met some of the greatest and most influential people in my life. They sat and laughed and had this look of near desperation as they worked to plan a camp for these kids that they would put on if their life depended on it, if it was the last thing they did.
I started working on stuff right away. Looking for donors, telling people about this awesome cause, asking everything I could do. I went in to my interview just so so excited. Honestly getting the call that I'd been accepted as a counselor was one of the greatest ways to be woken up.
I went home for the summer and counted down the days till I got back to Utah so I could go to camp. Literally all my plans revolved around these kids I hadn't even met.
I showed up to camp and I felt SO nervous. I don't know why I was but I was scared to death. I thought maybe the kids wouldn't like me or maybe all the hype wasn't really what it would amount to. There's no way this week could be as life-changing as they said it was.
To say the week exceeded my expectations is an understatement. It changed my life. I didn't just meet some kids. I made a new family. These kids are my inspiration and motivation - they are why I do what I do. The pictures I have of them I keep near to my heart and encourage me to stand strong against my daily battles. Their enormous amounts of courage and strength have spread into my life. They remind me to love the little moments and to appreciate the things I have NOW rather than waiting till later.
Camp Kesem came into my life almost by accident, but it's become my everything. It pulled me out of one of the biggest trials in my life, but I literally am bursting from the seams with gratitude. I finally understand the passion that Mr. Incredible had that first day that I met him. It's one of those experiences you just want everyone to have and you wish that they believed you when you told them it changed your life.
I'm grateful that these kids are here for me, but more importantly that I can be there for them. That through their highs and lows, we're a family. And that means the world to me.
-
If you would like to help me make a difference in the lives of children struggling with a parent's cancer, click here to donate.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
Two
We may not understand it always, but the Lord knows us better than we know ourselves.
Spoiler alert: you probably know the end to this story.
I had always been the girl who had it all together. My life was all figured out. I did everything - literally. I woke up, went to seminary, a full eight-period class schedule with a few APs here and there, three band classes, cheerleading, student council president, the school musical, work, and then trying to find time to eat and sleep if I was lucky. I also volunteered with a ton of service groups in town and was coordinator of a program that gives 180 children Christmas presents and planned prom and two formal dances and the list goes on and on. I didn't realize it as first but I was killing myself. Like I really don't know how I survived high school when I now get exhausted reading this list.
Junior year rolls around and I'm stressed more than ever. I was lucky if I was sleeping five hours a night and still was keeping A's {I'm not telling you this to brag but to show you where I'm coming from}. After all this, I had to study for the SAT/ACT and figure out where I was going to spend the next four years of my life. No pressure or anything.
For the first time, I was stumped. I didn't know what I wanted. It surprised even me. Like I don't know if I can explain how undecided I was on what I was doing past June 8th, 2012.
Applications went out and I waited. I talked and researched and deliberated and wondered what I was going to do when those letters came home. 'Maybe I'll get denied from a few and that will make it easier,' I thought.
I thought wrong.
Four acceptance letters came back and I was no closer to knowing where I was going to go anymore than I know the exact outfit I'd wear in two weeks. Info meetings, prayers, more research. At one point I was enrolled at two universities.
I remember the day so vividly. My phone lit up and I had a message from Mom telling me it was probably best if I enrolled at BYU. I turned in my acceptance, applied for housing and paid my deposit. Then I cried. I was home alone that day and I could not stop. Why was I turning down not just the other schools but the opportunities? I was trying to maintain my composure as I called them to withdraw and get my deposit back from the other school.
People started asking me about my plans for the coming year and I couldn't just tell them my options anymore. I braced myself for the "Oh...."s and the eyerolls and the marriage jokes when I told them I was going to BYU. I had to pretend like I was happy about it when in reality, I had no idea why I was going there. Utah? It snows there. That's where people go to get there MRS degree and drop out! Not me! I had plans and goals, so why was doing this to myself?
My happy ending and my answer -my miracle- didn't come until a year and a half after that moment.
Along the way I finally got to campus and I hated everything. My friends weren't here. It snowed. Utah was weird. My roommate and I didn't always get along. I didn't have enough money. I cried myself to sleep. My classes were awful and so were my grades for the first time ever. I had friends but it didn't feel the same.
I just wanted to be anywhere but Provo, Utah.
I didn't begin to know why until my second semester. I was as lost as ever. I signed up for a religion class from a professor who literally changed my life. I made friends who actually became friends, not just people I talked to. I grew spiritually, emotionally and socially. This isn't to say that everything was fine and dandy, because it wasn't. My classes were harder than ever. I still missed home. But I realized Provo was becoming my home. People here were becoming my family. I didn't want to leave.
What was happening to me??
I went home for the summer and I realized I was counting down the days till I could go back to Utah. I talked to my new family literally everyday. I was anxious and antsy. Seriously, what was happening?
Fall 2013 was a great semester full of new experiences. I was ecstatic to be back, to have my own place, and to explore Provo even more. It didn't make sense. But the most surprising thing by far was my reaction to the first snow. I smiled and laughed at myself for smiling and did a little dance and all those cheesy cliché movie reactions. A asked me if I was feeling alright. I mean, this was really out of the ordinary.
I had given up on wondering why I was here and just accepted it. Maybe my unanswered prayer was really and answer telling me just to enjoy the ride because I'll figure it out in the end.
Wrong.
I went to church Sunday with A and just expected a typical day at church. The Sunday school lesson was about teaching and learning and I never could've anticipated the turn of events.
C started talking about his experiences toward the end of the mission. He was enrolled at another school, he thought he had his life in order. And then the mission president told him that's not what he was to do. C accepted it because the president still received revelation for him. That's a cool story on it's own, but I was immediately drawn in; the school he was enrolled in was the same one I thought I was "supposed" to attend.
He didn't know why either but he did it. He came to know he needed to be here at BYU. The he read BYU's mission statement:
The mission of Brigham Young University--founded, supported, and guided by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints--is to assist individuals in their quest for perfection and eternal life.
How wonderful and inspiring it is to know the Lord not only provided me with an answer to my prayers but also an entire university to help me on my progression toward eternal life.
I knew
I found peace. It didn't come on my time. At all. But the Lord tested my patience like the lame man in Acts 3. It's possible the savior walked past this man at the temple during his ministry. Yet he was not healed until after His ascension.
The Lord often needs us to demonstrate faith before he gives assistance. I had almost given up home, but He gave me peace.
Spoiler alert: you probably know the end to this story.
I had always been the girl who had it all together. My life was all figured out. I did everything - literally. I woke up, went to seminary, a full eight-period class schedule with a few APs here and there, three band classes, cheerleading, student council president, the school musical, work, and then trying to find time to eat and sleep if I was lucky. I also volunteered with a ton of service groups in town and was coordinator of a program that gives 180 children Christmas presents and planned prom and two formal dances and the list goes on and on. I didn't realize it as first but I was killing myself. Like I really don't know how I survived high school when I now get exhausted reading this list.
Junior year rolls around and I'm stressed more than ever. I was lucky if I was sleeping five hours a night and still was keeping A's {I'm not telling you this to brag but to show you where I'm coming from}. After all this, I had to study for the SAT/ACT and figure out where I was going to spend the next four years of my life. No pressure or anything.
For the first time, I was stumped. I didn't know what I wanted. It surprised even me. Like I don't know if I can explain how undecided I was on what I was doing past June 8th, 2012.
Applications went out and I waited. I talked and researched and deliberated and wondered what I was going to do when those letters came home. 'Maybe I'll get denied from a few and that will make it easier,' I thought.
I thought wrong.
Four acceptance letters came back and I was no closer to knowing where I was going to go anymore than I know the exact outfit I'd wear in two weeks. Info meetings, prayers, more research. At one point I was enrolled at two universities.
I remember the day so vividly. My phone lit up and I had a message from Mom telling me it was probably best if I enrolled at BYU. I turned in my acceptance, applied for housing and paid my deposit. Then I cried. I was home alone that day and I could not stop. Why was I turning down not just the other schools but the opportunities? I was trying to maintain my composure as I called them to withdraw and get my deposit back from the other school.
People started asking me about my plans for the coming year and I couldn't just tell them my options anymore. I braced myself for the "Oh...."s and the eyerolls and the marriage jokes when I told them I was going to BYU. I had to pretend like I was happy about it when in reality, I had no idea why I was going there. Utah? It snows there. That's where people go to get there MRS degree and drop out! Not me! I had plans and goals, so why was doing this to myself?
My happy ending and my answer -my miracle- didn't come until a year and a half after that moment.
Along the way I finally got to campus and I hated everything. My friends weren't here. It snowed. Utah was weird. My roommate and I didn't always get along. I didn't have enough money. I cried myself to sleep. My classes were awful and so were my grades for the first time ever. I had friends but it didn't feel the same.
I just wanted to be anywhere but Provo, Utah.
I didn't begin to know why until my second semester. I was as lost as ever. I signed up for a religion class from a professor who literally changed my life. I made friends who actually became friends, not just people I talked to. I grew spiritually, emotionally and socially. This isn't to say that everything was fine and dandy, because it wasn't. My classes were harder than ever. I still missed home. But I realized Provo was becoming my home. People here were becoming my family. I didn't want to leave.
What was happening to me??
I went home for the summer and I realized I was counting down the days till I could go back to Utah. I talked to my new family literally everyday. I was anxious and antsy. Seriously, what was happening?
Fall 2013 was a great semester full of new experiences. I was ecstatic to be back, to have my own place, and to explore Provo even more. It didn't make sense. But the most surprising thing by far was my reaction to the first snow. I smiled and laughed at myself for smiling and did a little dance and all those cheesy cliché movie reactions. A asked me if I was feeling alright. I mean, this was really out of the ordinary.
I had given up on wondering why I was here and just accepted it. Maybe my unanswered prayer was really and answer telling me just to enjoy the ride because I'll figure it out in the end.
Wrong.
I went to church Sunday with A and just expected a typical day at church. The Sunday school lesson was about teaching and learning and I never could've anticipated the turn of events.
C started talking about his experiences toward the end of the mission. He was enrolled at another school, he thought he had his life in order. And then the mission president told him that's not what he was to do. C accepted it because the president still received revelation for him. That's a cool story on it's own, but I was immediately drawn in; the school he was enrolled in was the same one I thought I was "supposed" to attend.
He didn't know why either but he did it. He came to know he needed to be here at BYU. The he read BYU's mission statement:
The mission of Brigham Young University--founded, supported, and guided by The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints--is to assist individuals in their quest for perfection and eternal life.
How wonderful and inspiring it is to know the Lord not only provided me with an answer to my prayers but also an entire university to help me on my progression toward eternal life.
I knew
- that I needed to be here.
- that the Lord provided for me.
- that no matter how I felt, I was doing better that I thought.
- that I, who avoided for so long, needed this environment to help me because of my struggles the first year.
- that though I stressed, I found peace here.
I found peace. It didn't come on my time. At all. But the Lord tested my patience like the lame man in Acts 3. It's possible the savior walked past this man at the temple during his ministry. Yet he was not healed until after His ascension.
The Lord often needs us to demonstrate faith before he gives assistance. I had almost given up home, but He gave me peace.
Tuesday, January 14, 2014
One
Christmas break was a new experience for me. For the first time in my life (and I mean this in all seriousness) I wanted to spend time with my family rather than my friends. When did this happen? Last Christmas I spent more time out and less time sleeping in the hopes of soaking up all the time with those wonderful people that I could.
For the first time I realized that they were my everything. It didn't matter that I don't completely understand everything that's going to happen after this life. My family is seven different kinds of messed up. I mean, I pretty sure it scares people away from me after they learn how messed up it is. But it's my life and I've learned to love - other people will too.
Anyway, I spent time with my family. I tried to be home in time for dinner every night. I went out to lunch with my mom and Dave. I went and saw the other side of the family too! And almost everyone was there and that was just great - getting to catch up, see the young and the old and the in-between and eat a lot. For the first time in forever my whole family was together at Christmas and I got to play with baby R and laugh until I thought I'd pee my pants (also complete seriousness here). It was all in all a great end to 2013.
But then it seemed in an instant, it all was going to change. I found out that all my plans had fallen through with a situation and a lot of other trials were thrown at me. My patience and my faith were being tested within two hours of the new year. What was I going to do? Not only that, but I'd gone on a whim and dropped all the classes I 'needed' and rearranged my whole schedule and what I'd thought had been a good decision at the time added to the growing mess that my life was.
I don't know why I ever worried.
A ended up coming back to Utah with me and I think that that was a miracle for the both of us. Flights were cheap enough for her to get back home. We had some extra money to be able to afford food and travel expenses there. My schedule worked out. My books all came out to be a lot cheaper than I thought. She got to see her friends who have found a special place in my heart also. We sat and talked about life, love, the gospel, the weather, food, and whatever else was on our mind. We watched more shows and movies than I had in the last four months and consumed enough junk to be cover our calories for a month at least (still don't regret any of it). We stayed up late and slept in and caught snowflakes on our tongues. But most importantly we looked for a place to live this summer. A needed a push to know that she needed to take a break from her life at home and seek out opportunities for herself out here. I needed to know that I wasn't alone. That even though I felt alone at times and I complained about not having any friends, I had one of my biggest fans on my side and that she would take care of me after I spend all my time taking care of everyone else. Someone that finally, FINALLY understands my situation and pretty much all aspects of it too. I can tell her everything and she'll tell me when I'm being stupid. She'll push me to do better and let me cry and above all be the friend I need when I need it. And she'll probably think this is mushy and creepy but it's okay. Because she'll love me through it.
Yes, it was a lot of fun. And yes, I spent more time goofing around the past week than I probably should have. But I also made the best memories and felt comfort that I haven't in a long time. And it brings me happiness to know that it wasn't her or I that orchestrated this but a blessing in disguise. I'm just glad I took the time to recognize it.
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