The Art of Preparing Mac n Cheese and Other Thoughts

In two weeks, I move back to Loveland.  There are several reasons I am excited to be back in my hometown.  Here they are:

• I get to live with my sister's family.  I will love being so close to my two nieces, getting to know my sister and her husband better, and being so close to family.
• I will be closer to work, therefore, less money wasted on gas. 
• I will be going to the young single adults ward, which is smaller than the one in Fort Collins, but that might be better since I am a little shy at first.
• Generally, just a good chance to save money.

However, I am sad to leave Fort Collins.  Here is why:

• I love Fort Collins as a town.  
• I am going to miss my roommates A LOT!  We pinkie promised each other that we would get together at least once a week.  We did not know each other at all before moving in, so it is a miracle that we all get along so well.  
• Fort Collins has a ton of places to get cheap but delicious frozen yogurt.  

My roommates have taught me the fine art of preparing mac n cheese.  You can laugh and wonder how hard can it really be to just follow the directions on the box, but putting a little extra time and ingredients into it, makes a $0.69 box of mac n cheese taste like a $10 meal. 

1.  Don't be afraid to try different brands and flavors.  A box is no more than a dollar, so you can afford to experiment.  In La Casa de los Zorros (my house) we like Kroger Three Cheese.  I used to hear from different sources (coughmikecough) that buying store brand mac n cheese was a big mistake.  It isn't.  It tastes just the same, if not better, because it's cheaper and comes in a variety of flavors.    

2.  A lot of people think that milk is the important part.  Wrong.  Butter (or margarine) is the important part.  Don't skimp on the butter.  

3.  Sprinkle (or cover, in my case) the top with parmesan.  I put it on right after I scoop the mac n cheese into my bowl, that way it gets all melty.  Stir it in, too.  Don't just let it hang out on top. 

4.  You can always get a little wild and add sour cream or chicken.  

We like to eat our mac n cheese with Totino's Pizza, the little ones that are like a buck.  It is not healthy, but for three college girls, it is a very cheap, easy, delicious meal.  

Over the past six months, I have also learned how exciting it is to write and receive handwritten letters.  In February, a missionary I had grown close to was transferred to Greeley.  He got permission for me to send him letters.  He, unfortunately, can't send me letters back.  That is fine, and I still have had a lot of fun writing him letters.  During March and April, I met and got to know a guy named Jake.  He was getting ready to leave for his mission to Mexico City.  After he left, we started writing letters to each other.  (Just FYI, I am not writing only guys.  One sister missionary in the mission sends me weekly e-mails.)  I also got to know a missionary from England.  He became really sick here, and so they sent him to a mission in England a few weeks ago.  They thought that since they couldn't figure out what was wrong with him, maybe it was environmental.  I wrote him after he left, and I just got my first letter from him today.  

He likes to call me Johanna, emphasis on the h sound.  I was super excited to get this today.  First, his letter was awesome.  But also, I have never gotten mail from England before.  Here is what I love about writing and receiving handwritten letters:

• The anticipation is fun.  Usually, I hate waiting and I am incredibly impatient.  But I like the hope I get when I check the mail everyday, knowing there might be a chance that there is a letter from one of my friends.  
• It is all kind of romantic.  And I am NOT talking about mushy, love romance.  I mean more like it is... what do I mean?  Like it is fanciful, I guess.  I think what I mean is that in this day and age, it has become impractical when it is so easy to e-mail, text, call, facebook, etc. someone. 
• It is personal.  Don't get me wrong, I think you can say personal things in e-mails or phone calls.  But when it is handwritten, you have spent a certain energy and care into saying what you want to say.  I really like that handwritten letters can be signed.  The way you sign it can say a lot in and of itself, too.  A lot of times, I sign my letters like so:     ~JoannaGrace~

                 

Lastly, my life ended a little bit on Saturday.  I saw the final Harry Potter movie with my sister Elissa.  

It. Was. So. AMAZING!  

I started reading the series when I was 9.  I am now 21.  Let us do the math.  For 12 years of my life,  I have invested time, love and energy into the books and movies.  That is more than HALF my life!  As I grew up, the books grew up with me.  It sounds stupid, but Harry and Ron and Hermione became my friends.  I have talked to other people my age, and they have said the same thing.  It is the end of an era.  At least I have the release of the DVD to look forward to now.  That day really will be the end of my life.  Here is a picture of how much Harry Potter has grown:

If only I had a side by side picture of me at eleven and twenty one.  Ok, obsessive Harry Potter moment temporarily over... until I see the movie again in an hour.  

PEACE OUT, Homiez!

Coping

This past week, I have been driving to work from Fort Collins by myself.  I was carpooling with my coworker Kimberly, but she is now on maternity leave.  I take Taft Hill which turns into Wilson in Loveland.  Earlier, I had noticed that there is a little road side memorial shrine in between Fort Collins and Loveland.  And going North, right before the memorial, are tire marks, and a big disturbance in the field, where you can tell a car crashed.  Every day this week, as I drive to work in the morning, there is a car pulled over next to it, and a lady sitting in front of the memorial.  Today, it was obvious that she was crying.  Her body was shaking and her face was in her hands.  I drove by it again this afternoon, and when I saw it, I wondered who this lady had lost.  Her son or daughter?  Brother or sister, best friend, cousin, aunt or uncle?  Whoever it was, she loved this person.  She loved them so much that she grieves for them every morning, and probably carries around that grief with her all day.

It has made me think about losing someone you love, and not even necessarily because that person died.  My friend said goodbye to someone she is very close to, who is moving to Europe indefinitely.  Another one of my friends went back home to England, and not under the happiest circumstances.  And Kimberly, my pregnant coworker, is not coming back to work after her baby is born.  Saying goodbye, or even saying see you later, is hard enough.  I can't imagine how hard it is to lose someone to death.

I love the incredible miracle of Jesus breaking the bands of death.  And I hold fast to the hope and faith I have in that.

Decisions, Promotions, and BIG Things Happening

The last post I wrote was all about how I felt really good about leaving for Provo in August, and why.  So much can change in two and a half weeks.  I started my job at HNS in November 2009 as a seasonal employee in the clothing room.  After Christmas, the director and assistant director got together and decided that they wanted to hire me on permanently.  The assistant director told me yesterday how they had had a discussion about it (when we started going into our slow season) and both agreed that I was too a part of the team to let me go.  To keep me on, they also trained me in the food room, and eventually in reception and data entry.  I spent the rest of 2010 floating from area to area.  At the beginning of 2011, I was offered a promotion as the food room assistant.  I have loved being the FR assistant.  But, I always in the back of my mind wished that I could be a caseworker.  Well, on Thursday, the director came to talk to me.  She asked me if I was for sure going to Utah, and then said if I wasn't, then she would like for me to become a caseworker.

This past weekend I had a constant prayer in my heart.  Should I go to Provo like I had originally planned, or stay for a little while longer and try my hand at caseworking?  I had no idea what God had in mind for me.  A lot of the time I felt like He was giving me two great options, and that no matter which I chose, He would take care of me.  On Friday, I made a pros and cons list.

After making this list, I was still very undecided about my plans.  On Friday and Saturday, I was leaning more towards sticking with the original plan, and going to Provo in August.  On Sunday, I was leaning towards staying.  As I was drifting in and out of sleep on Sunday morning, I was praying.  One prayer went like this, "God, just I need to know now what you want me to do.  Just tell me."  Another one was more along these lines, "God, I trust that your wisdom is perfect, and that you will let me know what to do in your perfect time, and I trust that no matter what, You love me and have a perfect plan for me."  I prayed these two prayers a lot the last few days.

On Monday morning, I went to the director and told her that I had decided to stay a little longer in Colorado, and though I would be leaving eventually, I would love to become a caseworker.  She was very excited, and plans for my training were discussed.  This next Monday, I will start my training.  I will casework in the morning, and be in the Food Room in the afternoon.  My coworkers, parents and friends are all excited for me.  I am for the most part psyched, however, I am still a bit disappointed.  My roommate said it best, "It's always a little disappointing when plans change."

As for school, I now have more time to apply to more schools, save more money, and hopefully buy a new car.  I also will be living with Elissa and Mike in August, so I am excited to get to know her family better, and save some money on rent.

I starting reading the caseworker manual, and I am now scared out of my mind about my new responsibilities, so please pray that I will figure it out, and do well in my new job.

I have been thinking about my future a lot.  Particularly my decision to move to Provo, Utah in the fall to attend Utah Valley University.  I know some people in my life (some who read this blog) absolutely do not want me to go to Utah.  I have not really explained why I feel I need to be there, and why I feel like it is the best place for me to be.  Here it is.

At the beginning of April, I went to Salt Lake City for General Conference.  It was one of the best weekends of my life.  While there, we (my friend, Meg and I) spent an evening in Provo.  Meg went to school at BYU before she left for her mission, so she showed me the BYU campus, drove me by UVU in Orem, showed me where the MTC (the training center for the missionaries) was, and we even stopped outside the Provo Temple.  The gates were locked because it was past nine, but it was beautiful even just seeing it outside the gates.  I felt like I could really see myself living in Provo.  And Utah has a great public transportation system, so getting to SLC or Logan would be easy.

That is when I really began thinking about moving to Utah.  After that trip, things started to really fall in place for me to make that dream a reality.  For one thing, a lot of the missionaries and Mormons I have met here will be going to school in Utah, either at BYU (Provo), UofU (SLC), or USU (Logan).  And one of the best things about Mormons is that the Church is just one big family of support and helpfulness.  For instance, I have been to three different wards in my short time of being a Mormon, and I have always been invited to dinner, offered help with this or that, felt loved and mattered.  I feel a lot better knowing that I will have that support when I move and when I really will probably need it.  I already have been given offers for a job and housing.

But I think what really secured my decision was my move to Fort Collins.  Before I found the place I am staying at now, I had looked at a few other places that had 6-12 month leases.  I applied for these places and was told that my applications were accepted, and even set up times to sign the leases.  Then, on all occasions,  the landlord would call at the last minute and tell me that something came up or they found someone else, and I would not be able to move in.  This was very discouraging at the time.  Then I came across an add for the place I am at now.  It was to sublease a room in a house with two other girls.  The lease ends at the end of July.  As I was driving to Fort Collins to look at the place and meet the girls, I had this feeling that this was going to be the place.  I prayed that if it was God's will, that He would just make it happen.  And He did.  I realize now that if I had signed those other leases, I wouldn't have the opportunity to go to Provo in the fall.  But now, my lease ends right when I need it to, to ensure that I can move in August.

I fully realize that I will have to pay out of state tuition, that college will be tough, especially after not being in school for 3 years, and that not being in Colorado with my family will be sad and hard, and even though I am scared, really scared, I know that in Utah I will grow more than I ever have, in the Gospel I know to be true, and into the person God intends me to be.  Before I joined the Church, while I was still "investigating" as the missionaries call it, I went to the Loveland Stake Conference.  Which is basically like General Conference but just for a stake.  Mission President Ely gave an incredible talk about change.  It is really the only one I remember from the conference.  He made the point of saying that you can not change if you do not change your environment.  At the time, this was hard for me to hear, because I was in a bad environment that was dragging me down, but I didn't know how to change that.  Lately, I have been changing the environments that I am in.  I don't want to be in a place that makes it harder for me to hear the promptings if the Holy Ghost.  And I feel like for me, as a new member, I will find the right environments in Utah.

I love my job, and I love love love my family.  But those are the only things I will be sad to leave behind.  In Utah, I can start fresh.  I will not be in a city that has a liquor store on every corner, or holds past memories that haunt me.  I read an amazing talk by Jeffrey R. Holland today, entitled "Remember Lot's Wife."  It talks a lot about repenting of your sins, and leaving them in the past.  And I am hoping that maybe moving to Utah will help me leave my past in the past.  I fully believe that I should remember my past sins and mistakes in order to learn from them, but I have sincerely repented of them, and know that because of the Atonement of Jesus Christ, I no longer have to feel guilty for them.

Here is the link to "Remember Lot's Wife."
Remember Lot's Wife

I am not asking anyone to support or understand my decision to leave Colorado for Utah, but I sincerely hope that none of my relationships will be ruined or hurt by this.  I love you, and I am sorry for hurting you.  There are few things in my life that I have been really certain of, but I am absolutely certain of Utah. And I cannot turn my back on that certainty.

Untitled

Hello, World!  I haven't written in a few days.  I have spent the past week really struggling with wanting to give in to my past addictions, namely alcohol.  It's ridiculous that I want to drink, because I have seen so many blessings in my life since giving it up.  I hate the person I become when I am drunk.  I hate the things I do and say, and I hate the way I feel.  And yet, I still crave it.  It has just been over 3 months since I had my last drink.  Here are the differences in my life that I have seen since giving it up:

1. I have not gotten sick.  I am not saying I won't ever get sick again, but this past winter, when I was drinking almost every night, I got the flu, a sinus infection, and pretty much just a constant cold.  I don't know if this is because I was drinking a lot, but I seem to be healthier when I don't drink.
2. I do not wake up hung over.  Although I have been having problems with my sleeping and because of that do not have a lot of energy, I still have more energy and healthy feelings than I did when I was spending my day hung over.
3. I don't do stupid things like I did when I would get drunk.  I am always able when sober to clearly make right decisions.  I still make wrong ones sometimes, but it is easier to make the right ones when I am sober.  I hope that makes sense.
4. I am saving money not buying a ton of alcohol.  That gets expensive after awhile.
5. I used to eat a lot of crap when I was drunk, and because of that, I gained a lot of weight.  I don't know if I really have lost any weight, but quite a few people have told me that I look thinner, and my skin looks clearer.

Maybe I should just carry this list around with me to help me remember NOT to drink.

In other news, last Monday I had an interview at Bed, Bath and Beyond.  At the end of the interview, the guy said, "I will call you Friday to tell you when orientation is."  Therefore, I thought I had the job.  Well, he didn't call Friday, but another lady there called this morning and said that they were not hiring.  UGH! I had already told a bunch of people I got a second job.  He should have said, "I will call you Friday to tell you if we are hiring you."  Or something along those lines.  But, no, he made it sound like I was getting the job.  I am frustrated.  I really want a second job.  I want to go to Utah with some money in my pocket.  So please pray that I can find another job.

Moving Day

Ah, I am all settled in to my new place.  Well, almost.  I just have to hang up all my clothes.  Here is the situation.  I am living in a house in Fort Collins with two girls.  One is staying, one is leaving, and another girl is coming next week.  The lease is only until through July, so in August, I am going to pack up again, and head off for Utah.  Here are some pictures of Joanna's Big Fort Collins Adventure:

On Friday, I packed up my stuff at my Parents' house.  This is about a third of it.

My room.  A very flowery bed.  Also, there is a cool shelf above it.

Desk and chair, obviously.  My room would not be complete without James Dean.

The side of the house.  That dog, who coincidentally is named Riley, is leaving Sunday.

And the backyard.

All in all, I am pretty happy with my new digs.  Just holler if you want to come visit me.

Happy Mother's Day

Someone asked me today what the best thing my mom ever told me was.  I answered, She told me I love you.  Everyday, she made sure my sisters and I knew that she loved us.  And even now, we may not see her everyday, but there is no doubt in our minds of her love for us.  So thank you, mom, for always saying I love you.  Even when I was being a troublemaker, or not saying I love you back, or even when I was making a life choice you really did not agree with.  I hope you know that I love you, too.  You are the best mom a daughter could ask for, and I am so happy you are mine.

My mom, me, Erin, Jessica, Elissa

All My Possessions are Dying

I feel like all the stuff I own is starting to die, and will need to be replaced soon.  I am really attached to my stuff, and maybe this will be a lesson in, I don't know, not being as attached.  My dad said my car is getting old.  I love my car.  He (yes, he is a he) is a 2001 Pontiac Sunfire, silver, beautiful.  He is my baby.  I named him Orange Cream Smokecicle, or OCS, because when my dad first bought him, he smelled (Ok, Liss, is it smelled or smelt?) like smoke.  I got a orange creamcicle air freshner, and then, he just smelled like orange cream smoke.  Together, OCS and I have had some great memories.  Here are a few:

1.  When Dave and I took a road trip in OCS to Wheaton.  He got me to all that awesome Saga food, and of course, to visit Erin.
2. Finding out today that two of the Elders accidentally nicked it, just barely, then waxed away the mark a couple days later at HNS.  It happened a few months ago, but I just found out tonight.  I cracked up when they told me.  I also think it is hilarious that they thought I would notice one tiny scratch in the mess of scratches that litter my poor baby.  They said after they waxed it that they realized the shiny, clean spot was more noticeable than the nick.
3.  Driving with Meg to Greeley a week ago.  I introduced her to Mumford & Sons, and to my crazy side.  Just kidding, she already knew about my crazy side.
4.  Every single time I drive with my windows down and the music blasting in the summer.  Especially on a warm summer night.


A couple of weeks ago, the battery in my computer died.  Now my computer has to be constantly plugged in.  It is running slower and my memory is almost completely full.  My computer, or Pinky, came to me when I was seventeen.  I have watched countless movies and shows on him (all my objects are masculine, no matter how feminine they look) and typed many words on his keyboard.  But I fear his life is coming to an end.  I looked at the new Dell Inspirons in pink, which are the same kind as Pinky, and I think it may be necessary to buy one by the end of the summer.  Here are the nine main things (mostly internet things) I use my computer for:

1.  Facebook
2.  Netflix
3.  Wikipedia (LOVE!)
4.  IMDB
5.  Google
6.  Sporcle (Haven't heard of it? Go to it now.)
7.  Gmail
8.  Perciante Press
9.  iTunes

Lastly, my television is dying.  I am not as sad about this as the first two.  Probably because I never named it. It's even just an it.  But, since I was eighteen, it has pretty much been on a constant loop of the Harry Potter movies.  You see, the awesome thing about Harry Potter 4-6 on DVD is that after the movie ends, it goes back to the main menu, then after about two minutes, it starts the movie over again.  So, I used to just pop the movie in, and sleep with it on, and it would just run and run and run constant Harry Potter.  The DVD player doesn't work on it anymore, and it is huge (though, not as gargantuan as some I've seen.)  I probably won't take it when I move.  In January or so, I got the flu and felt like I was dying.  Zach put in HP for me, and I immediately felt better.  It sounds like I am really attached to Harry Potter, and I am, and this tv was what helped me watch HP over and over and over and over and over and over and over again.

I am not titling this, because I don't know what it will be about yet....

My coworkers and I have started taking little walks during our lunch hour.  It is very nice, and the sun gives us energy for the afternoon.  We also bond and share secrets and gossip.  Today, the caseworkers were at a conference or something boring like that, and my boss is on vacation, so I took a walk by myself.  First of all, while peaceful, not as much fun.  Second of all, I feel way weirder taking a walk by myself.  I think every car that passes me is judging the random girl walking.  Probably not, but that's how I feel.  There is a greenhouse behind my work, so I stopped inside and looked around.  Some lady thought I was an employee.  In her defense, the outfit I am wearing does sort of look garden-y.  Here is a picture....

I wasn't holding a watering can and a plant, though.  I just really got into character for this picture.  Thanks, Dad, for taking it for me.  Anyway, the greenhouse was really nice, and smelt like soil and flowers, and was so nice and warm and humid.  It was a nice break from the INSANE morning I had.  Like I said, my boss is out on vacation, so I was in charge of the food room.  We were absolutely slammed this morning.  It was sooo flipping busy.  But we got through the morning, even though one of the volunteers said she was never coming back.  (She was joking.  I think.  I hope.)  By the end of the morning, the shelves were bare of food baskets.  I started to freak out, because only one volunteer was scheduled to work in the afternoon.  I called two Elders and begged them (I didn't really have to beg) to come in and make food baskets.  They were my heroes for the day, and Elders of the Transfer (a new award I just made up today.  I am always thinking up awards for the volunteers.)   But, as it turned out, it was like dead this afternoon.  We spent the first two hours working (slowly).  The next half hour watching a slideshow of food room pictures on the computer.  And the last half hour closing up shop.  It was two extremes in one day.   The Elders and I also took an awesome picture, but I left it at work.  Maybe on Monday I will post it, cause they deserve their time in the spotlight via this blog for helping me out today.

Now, I can no longer spoil this beautiful day in this dark room, sitting in front of my computer.  I am off to read The Hunger Games.  But first, a picture of a lilac....

Forgiveness... Even for those who we think don't deserve it

When I made this blog in December, it was originally titled "Musings about religion, politics, life, etc."  I changed it because I HATE talking politics and thought that there would never come a day that I would write a post about anything remotely going on in the world of politics.  Ha, how wrong I was.  I just have one little musing about the death of Osama bin Laden.  It really has nothing to do with the politics of it, but the subject is one of the biggest political issues of the past decade. Here it is...

Last night as I was praying before bed, bin Laden came to my mind.  I asked God to be with those people who had lost family or friends in 9/11 or in the war on terror.  Then, I thought about forgiveness, and if I, had I lost anyone to bin Laden's acts of terrorism, could ever forgive him.  I immediately thought, never, he doesn't deserve forgiveness.  Once I thought that, I remembered how earlier that day at church, I had been thinking about how it doesn't matter what sins I have committed, or what sins some drug dealing gangster, for instance, has committed, we are both the same in that we are both sinners.  So, why would I deserve forgiveness anymore than bin Laden?  We both don't deserve it, and that is why we call what Jesus did for humankind, grace.  The difference now is that I have faith in that grace, unlike, I am sure we can all agree, bin Laden.

I hope no one who reads this thinks I am saying that it was ok for him to do the awful things he did.  Of course, I don't think that at all.  I truly hope that the families and friends who lost their loved ones can find closure in this ending.  And I am proud to say I am from the same country as the men and women who worked and fought so tirelessly to find this man.

May Snow in Colorado

It is the first of May, and it is just barely snowing here in Loveland.  I actually hate when it snows in April, and loathe when in snows in May.  I was telling my coworker a couple weeks ago how I feel like grown-ups (yeah, I don't consider myself a grown-up, yet) are always talking about "getting moisture."  For instance, they will say, "It is very cloudy outside.  I wish it would just rain so we could get some moisture."  I do not want moisture.  I want the sun, and the heat.  I want summer.

Anyways, this post isn't going to be just about my hatred of getting moisture, and my hope that when I'm a grown-up, I'm not obsessing about it. (What tv show is it where one of the characters hates the word moisture?) The snow and winter always reminds me of hard seasons we may experience in life.  When I was 18, I got a tattoo of a Japanese character of folklore.  Her name is Yuki-Ona.  She is inhumanly beautiful, with translucent skin, and black hair.  She glides across the snow, leaving no footprints. In many stories, she reveals herself, and traps travelers, freezing them to death or turning them to ice.  She is winter personified.  The tattoo represents a winter in my life, and by that I mean a period of time in my life that was particularly difficult, a time that I did not want to forget and let happen again.

Lately, I have been dealing with something difficult.  I needed to let something go, and I needed to say goodbye. As I was driving home tonight, I passed Namaqua Park.  I love love love Namaqua Park.  My sisters and I would walk down there on summer days and play by the Big Thompson River, and on a couple occasions, if the water was calm, we swam in it.  I had my first kiss at Namaqua Park (well, it wasn't my first kiss, but it I like to pretend it was.)  I've been kicked out of it by cops before, but c'mon, really, Loveland, you close your parks at ten?  I've fed squirrels pancakes there, laughed, cried, fought and made up at Namaqua Park.

So, tonight I stopped at Namaqua Park to finally let go of this something.  It had just started to snow, and the grass was wet, and the dirt path down to the river had turned to mud.  The snow was making little ripples in the river, and it was beautiful even in its gloominess.  I felt like the weather was mimicking my feelings.  I was sad, so sad to say goodbye, but it is no longer winter, and I knew there was hope in the spring.  The trees had little leaves on them, and the grass was looking greener, and this snow wasn't going to hurt them, it was just going to make them stronger.  And even though my life has a little bit of snow falling on me, it will just make me stronger.

This is a picture of the evening May snow in Colorado.  It is such little, light flakes, almost rain, that you can't see it in the picture.  This is outside the window of my bedroom at my parents' house.

To My Family

"Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing, like the love that let us share our name."

-The Avett Brothers

Come Forth as Gold

I like the hope Job has when he says, "...when he hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold." (Job 23:10)  Lately, the subject of trials and pain have come up a lot in my life.  It's so difficult while I am going through something hard, and I am in pain, to think, "God has a reason for allowing this to happen to me."  It can be so easy to blame God for the trials in my life.  And it seems silly that I don't immediately turn to Him for comfort and guidance.  Going to God in times of adversity does not necessarily make the bad go away, or make it any easier.  But He is so generous in giving peace, and in strengthening the hope I have that through Him all things are possible.

Probably the most amazing thing is that our Savior has been tempted in every way, felt every kind of adversity, and understands every hurt I feel.  Hebrews 4:15-16 says, "For we have not a high priest which cannot be touched with the feelings of our infirmities; but was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin. Let us therefore come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need."

Today at work, my patience was tried soooo much.  I thought I would implode with impatience.  I would not say that I am very patient in general, but I am pretty good at hiding my impatience.  Not so much today though.  I think everyone could tell that I was at my wit's end.  Thankfully, I have the best and most understanding boss, who is also the most patient person in the history of the world.  A lot of mornings I pray that God give me patience.  Guess what I forgot to pray for today.  It's funny how we realize what God has given us only when we no longer have it.  

The Overwhelming Power of Prayer

My parents were telling me about these monks in Greece who pray together for eight hours straight, then even as they go about their daily routines, they are in continual prayer.  Eight hours!! I can't imagine what I would pray about for that long.  But everyday, I notice that my prayers get a little longer.  I guess it's all about practice, practice, practice.  A couple of months ago, I started to pray before work every morning.  I didn't wake up earlier, but I would still spend 5-10 minutes in prayer before getting ready for the day.  If you know me at all, you know that it is nearly IMPOSSIBLE for me to wake up in the morning.  I sleep until the very last minute possible, so that between that time and when I have to leave for work, I have to use every moment to get ready. On the mornings I pray,  even though I don't wake up any earlier, I still have enough time to get ready and out the door in time for work.  This morning, I forgot to pray and was ten minutes late to work.

Prayer is such an amazing gift.  Our Heavenly Father wants to hear from us, each and every day.  He desires the praises and thanks He deserves.  He is willing to answer questions and give blessings.  It may not be when or how we expected, but He is willing.  Last Friday, I drove to the Denver Temple because I needed a peaceful place to pray.  I had been feeling a bit lost, scared about big changes, etc.  I spent an hour and a half there pondering a certain question, and started feeling frustrated, because I didn't feel like I was getting an answer.  I finally left, even though I hadn't received any peace about that certain question.  As I was driving home, I was listening to a talk that had been given to me a long time ago.  And in it, a situation much like my own was presented, and the speaker explained how he had felt about it, and how later it was revealed to him to be a blessing.  I knew that his answer was also my answer, and that God had led me to decide to put in that cd, because He wanted to use it to answer my question and to teach me a lesson.

We have the perfect example of Jesus Christ to know how to live in this life.  How many times during Christ's life on earth did he pray?  There are numerous examples of it in the Bible.   How important it is then to pray!

A Key

Today, I was thinking about my keys.  I only have three keys on my keychain.  One for my car and two for work.  I used to have one for my apartment, but since I moved out, and in with my parents, I obviously no longer have that one.  In three weeks, I will be adding a new key to my chain.  I am moving to Fort Collins, and am taking over a lease for a girl only through July.  This is exciting and scary and good.  I actually have never lived on my own before.  Only with my parents and husband.  So, this will all be so new.

My keys are making me think of all the changes in my life lately.  I feel like every big change in life deserves a little change.  For instance, get a divorce, chop off seven inches of hair.  Become a Mormon, wear a dress you normally wouldn't have worn.  Maybe when I move to FOCO, I will dye my hair, or get a really cool keychain, or splurge on a decorative pillow that has sequins on it, and can't possibly be comfortable to rest your head on.  Or maybe all three.

Dr. Who, craziness, and more craziness

This is the Eleventh Doctor.  If you have never heard of Dr. Who, then shame on you, and google it now, and then watch every episode of the new series at least twice.  Skip work, skip eating, skip showering, just watch it.  The Doctor has led me to discover just how insane I really am.  I love watching movies and television, but sometimes (ok, 99% of the time) I get too anxious to know what happens at the end.  I become so worried about the ending, I don't even watch the movie or show.  For example, I am a Bourne fan, and when Bourne Ultimatum came out, my boyfriend at the time and I went to see it.  I got so anxious about it, we left before the movie started.  So, it came out on dvd, I bought it, it stayed in its plastic for months, until I accidentally sold it to Plato's Closet.  It was years before I finally watched it. Most of the time though, I just wikipedia the ending.  You are probably saying, What?! You find out what happens at the end of a movie? What is the point of even watching it then?  I answer with this, I have no idea why, but I like to know what is going to happen, and I enjoy it more when I do.  But, I am crazier still.

I become so emotionally involved in the characters, that I hate to see them hurt or uncomfortable, and in danger, which in a show like Dr. Who is constant.  Because of this, even if I know what is going to happen in the end, and even if I know it will be alright, and the Tenth Doctor will just regenerate into the Eleventh Doctor, I still can't watch it.  I will watch trailers for it, and they will be so glorious and promising, but I won't actually watch the real thing.  

The trailer for the sixth season of Doctor Who is brilliant.  

If you actually watched it, good for you, and doesn't it just look amazing?  But, I am scared to watch it, because everything is changing, and becoming darker, and I fear the series is coming to an end.  I wish I could just have a normal excited anticipation (is that redundant?) for the sixth season.  Instead, I am worried that it won't be as amazing as the trailer, and that it will be the end, and that the Doctor will get together with River Song, and I really don't know how I feel about that.  (C'mon Doctor, have you entirely forgotten Rose?)

So, that is one of the crazier parts of my personality.  And really, go watch some Doctor Who, and start with the season with the Ninth Doctor and Rose Tyler.  

I just discovered I have a blog....

Apparently, there are 80,000 new blogs created each day.  So, I guess I am one of those now.  I actually made this blog in December.  I totally forgot about it, and then tonight, I thought, hey, maybe I will start a blog.  And I stumbled across this one.  If I remember correctly, I started it because I was in a very confusing time in my life.  I was faced with a big, I mean, HUGE decision to make that would affect everything in my life.  I needed to write about it, but I have never been any good at journaling.  Maybe I will be better at blogging.

My first post in December was going to be called "About me, Mormon Missionaries, and Discovering my own Faith".  I don't remember why I didn't finish it, and I don't remember what I was going to say, but it seems like a good place to start.  On December 12, 2010, I wrote this:

"Re-examining something you've been taught is a lot harder than I thought.  It's like if your whole life you've been told two plus two equals four, and then someone else says it equals five, and you start double guessing yourself.  Anyway, I can't look at this from an unbiased view point.  I'm always thinking that's not what my parents taught me, that's not what I learned in Sunday School.  When I think about it, it seems silly that God would care at all for me.  I'm so unlovable, and he's so mighty."

What was going on in my life when I wrote this?  In November 2010,  I started to get to know a couple Mormon Missionaries, or Elders, who volunteered at my work.  They invited me to church, and the first couple of times, I declined, and told them that I didn't think I would agree with their theology.  To be honest, I  knew very little about their theology.  They weren't the first missionaries I had gotten to know at work, but they were the first that invited me to church.  In December, they came to my apartment and we talked for a couple hours.  The next day, I went to their church.

Over the next couple of months,  I became deeply confused about religion and God.  Previously, in my life I had sought a relationship with God, but for what ever reason, never could find satisfaction.  I had felt the Spirit in my life, but those moments were few and far between.  But with the Elders, and at the LDS Church, I felt the Spirit strongly.  And I was ashamed at that, because I had always been taught that Mormonism was a cult, and I felt like I was turning my back on my family, and everyone and everything else in my life.

I was also so uncomfortable.  The Elders were challenging me to better my life, and I was scared of change, and scared of giving up the things I knew were bad for me, things I couldn't let go of, because I was addicted to them.  I was stuck, and comfortable being stuck in the same life, no matter how miserable I was.  The Elders were great and patient, and because eight of them volunteered at my work, I had a lot of support from them.  By the end of January, I was able to see that my dependencies were self destructive.  And by the beginning of February, I was able to give them up, only because I relied entirely on God's strength.

My confusion lessened, and my surety in what the Elders taught me, was strengthening.  But I had not told my family, and dreaded doing so.  I imagined the worst, that they would hate me and turn their backs on me.  I realize now that that was unfair of me to imagine, because I should have known just how much my family loves me.  I talked to a missionary, a certain Sister who is now one of my closest friends, and she told me that I had a decision.  I could deny what I was becoming more and more certain was true, and not risk losing my family, or I could stick to the path that I was on, the path that I felt God desired for me to be on, and maybe end up not being a part of my family any longer.

On February 26, I was baptized, and became a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.  My family still loves me.  They are not happy about my decision, but they still love me, and that is amazing and I thank God for that.  When I made my decision to be baptized, my life came crashing down on me.  Everything changed.  And even though the wind and hail were crashing in on me, I was firm on the Rock of my salvation.

And now, here I am four months after starting this blog, and almost two months after my baptism.  I am still confused about life and love and even sometimes God.  But He has been working little and marvelous miracles in my life, and honestly, the peace, joy and satisfaction I feel now is undeniable.  A few days ago, an Elder said this to me, "You seem different.  What is different about you?"  And I replied, "I'm happy now."

Hopefully, my next post will be about what is going on in my life now.  There is a lot going on.  And just to let you know, even though the title of the blog says it's my musings on religion, politics and life, I don't think I will ever, never ever talk about politics.

Happy Easter, world!