Self-love on New Year's Eve

I don't know about you guys, but New Year's Day always seems to sneak up on me. The weeks leading up to Christmas are so busy and exciting that I hardly think about the upcoming new year. Then suddenly it's New Year's Eve, and I'm scribbling down a few thoughtless resolutions that, even as I write them, I know I won't keep. Consequently, I feel frustrated about my lack of self-reflection and goal setting. Really, I just feel frustrated about me.

Last year around this time, I was in a yoga class when the instructor said something that I found very refreshing. As we were ending our practice, she asked each of us if we would, in addition to our resolutions, make a list of things we were not going to change about ourselves. She told us to look inward and find the things we love about who we are and determine not to lose them. What is it about 19 year old Emily that I want to find in 20 and 21 year old Emily?

Isn't that refreshing?? As the commercial world begins to blow its promises of a newer, thinner, smarter, more organized, happier you, it is nice to remember that not everything needs to change. You already have special attributes and talents that are worth protecting. If we are entirely focused on what should change, we may lose sight of all the goodness that is already within us. Instead of jumping straight into nitpicking your every move, take a look at the positive changes 2016 brought to yourself.

I think too often we look back at our younger selves, and grimace over things we said, or did, or even just thought about; forgetting that he/she is the one that got us where we are now. This New Year's Eve I am trying to look back on 2016 with gratitude for 18 year old Emily. Gratitude for the good habits she picked up, for the friends she made, and the person she tried to become. Not everything went perfectly, but there was a lot of goodness in her heart that I'd like to keep a hold of.

I'll probably still end up making a list of resolutions. Who knows--maybe some of them will even happen this year.  But I hope that as I set out into the journey of 2017, I'll remember to invite all the goodness of 2016 along to help.

I Heart H4

Hello! I know, it has been a while. I could blame my absence on being a busy college student, but really I just fell out of the habit of writing every week. As this semester was some of the happiest four months in my life, I regret not having it better documented. But alas, onward and upward!

So remember earlier this summer when I wrote my first post about naming box elder bogs bob? Well, now it is time for another semester recap. To give you a general feel for Fall 2016, I find the words of Emily Dickinson more than appropriate:

"That it will never come again is what makes life so sweet."

Oh how true this is. Having started my mission application during the summer months, I knew my time in apartment H4 was short. Jess and I quickly determined and I quote, that we were going to have "SO MUCH FUN" together as our time as roommates. Simple as that. My impending departure could make things bitter or sweet, and we were determined to have the latter. And "boy" (hehe) did we. 

We found ourselves living in the cutest, tiniest apartment with the sweetest, funniest girls. I had no idea it was possible to have so many good days in a row. Nor did I know about certain stomach muscles that began to ache from laughing alllllll day. Six girls with a love for life created an atmosphere constantly bubbling with laughter. Let me give you sample of some the shenanigans that went on daily in H4. My case in point, our waging war on the hair beasts. For those of you who are in blissful ignorance, a hair beast is a disgusting wad of hair created as feet drag across the carpet of an apartment of six girls. Nearly everyday, someone (okay usually just me or Becca. Everyone else had a bit more decorum) would shriek, "Ah!! HAIR BEAST!" While pulling a long train of entangled blonde and dark hair from the carpet. We would when then both giggle and gag our way to the nearest garbage can. Soon the beasts took on a new tactic we deemed psychological warfare. Basically, you would feel one under your foot only to look and see nothing but innocent carpet. We often threatened to report the beasts to the UN for this unfair warfare. And we can't forget the panic that ensued after Becca found one lounging on her bed. That was low. In an effort to fight back, we posted a sticky note notice on the wall that read, "Please, do not feed the hair beasts." It didn't really work. After four months of diligent combat, I think we had to succumb to their superior intellect. I mean, we were basically fighting ourselves. Good luck next semester girls.

Looking back, I think part of what made the laughter come so easily was a genuine love for each other. We were always looking for ways to serve, whether that be making a bed or sharing a dinner. "How are you?" "How was your test?" "Did you talk to him?" Were all questions asked with deep sincerity and an ear ready to listen (especially the last one ;)). It felt so good to be cared about while away from home. We often referred to each other as a team. Charging out the front door in the morning chanting, "Gooo team!" Or sarcastically after an embarrassing conversation, "ah, go team." This kind letter from Jess, which I found waiting on my bed along with concerned roommates who wanted to make sure I got home safe, is just one example:

Living with Jess is great because there is never a shortage of "Christian and his cute friends" equivalents :). Thanks for teaching me about loving your fellow men team :) I know from living with you, that kindness is always the right way to go. 

And I can't write about Fall 2016 without mentioning our EPIC dance parties. Like, dripping sweat after three minutes kind of EPIC. Here is our usual playlist: 

*Note: "Come on Eileen" was always played first, if not multiple times. It really became the H4 anthem ;)

1. Come on Eileen

2. I Would Walk 500 Miles

3. Sweet Caroline

4. All About that Bass

5. One Call Away

We would turn off all the lights, except the blue strand around our window, and rock out while sweet Chrystal laughed at us from the couch. Thanks for teaching me there is no better stress reliever than a crazy dance party team. (okay I already knew that, but thanks for indulging me ;)).

Sam suggested that we do a roommate gift exchange to finish out the semester. I'm so glad we had her to keep us doing fun things and thinking about others :) We ended up having the best time picking out gifts for our person and stuffing stockings on "fake" Christmas morning. I made this little video to show on our Christmas morning of pictures from throughout the semester. Then we all went out to breakfast at Angie's. It was a wonderful ending to a wonderful semester. 

I would say moving out was bittersweet, but thanks to Maya, Sam, Chrystal, Becca and Jess it truly was just..........sweet.

Thanks team.

Video: https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B-J9rVccPQpUc2N5VnVFTHduMHM/view?usp=sharing

Sabbath Delights: Speaking of Obedience

Today I gave a talk in sacrament meeting! Besides the nerves that inevitably come right before you stand up to speak, I really enjoy the whole process of speaking in church. I love studying up on a subject in preparation and I actually enjoy delivering my thoughts as well. My bishop had actually asked me to speak a few weeks ago, but I had to reschedule because of my cousin Steven's mission farewell. Speaking the Sunday after Thanksgiving meant we were combined with another YSA ward. While we were few in numbers, in was still a great church service!

Morgan, Steven and I at his farewell. He is headed to the Rome, Italy Mission!

As soon as I sat down from giving my talk, I immediately began to think of all the other things I could have said. Or how I could have studied more over the break. But I think we all do that. We just have to trust that something we said something right and move forward with what we learned.

Here is a copy of my talk on obedience if you'd care to read: 

Good morning! My name is Emily Abel and I am from Kaysville Utah. I am grateful for the opportunity to speak to you all today. I always love the study that precedes giving a talk, and I hope the Spirit will be here today as I try and share some of what I learned with you today.

I love the simple truths taught through primary songs. How comforting are these familiar words: ‘I am a Child of God and He has sent me here. Rich blessings are in store; If I but learn to do his will, I'll live with him once more. Lead me, guide me, walk beside me, Help me find the way. Teach me all that I must do To live with him someday.’

or

‘Families can be together forever through Heavenly Father’s plan. I always want to be with my own family and the Lord has shown me how I can. The Lord has shown me how I can’

 And one of my favorites:

 ‘Because I want to be like the Savior, and I can,

I’m reading His instructions, I’m following His plan.

Because I want the power His word will give to me,

I’m changing how I live, I’m changing what I’ll be

Scripture power keeps me safe from sin.

Scripture power is the power to win.

Scripture power! Ev’ry day I need

The power that I get each time I read.

Each of these songs teaches us about the patterns of obedience and the subsequent blessings. Rich blessings are in store through Heavenly Father’s perfect instructions for us, His imperfect children. His laws and commandments are in place not to restrict us, but to set us free and give us power. Let me share an instance from my own life when being obedient brought me very real blessings.

During a particularly busy week at school, not a song, but an object lesson I once saw in primary was on my mind. It took me a few days to realize that it was the Spirit teaching me how I was to fulfill all my responsibilities that week. Please use your imagination as I describe the lesson. The teacher had two large, empty glass jars on a table. Next to the jars sat a plastic bag full of sand, a pile of pebbles, and a pile of larger rocks. She told us that the jars represented us and our time. The large rocks represented the really important things we need to do each week. Things like scripture study, meaningful prayer, time with family, or fulfilling our callings at church. The pebbles she said, represented things in our lives that are still important, but not as essential. Things like homework or daily exercise. The sand she said, was the fun things we do, like watching a movie with friends or playing a video game. The teacher then opened the bag of sand and poured half of it into one of the empty jars. On top of the sand, she put a handful of the pebbles. By this point, the jar was nearly full and there was only room for one or two of the large rocks. She told us that this is what happens when we choose to put the unimportant things first in our lives: we won’t have time for the things that really matter. Then she turned to the remaining empty jar. This time, she put the large rocks in first, they all fit. Then she put the pebbles on top, they too all fit in as they fell in between the gaps of the large rocks. Lastly, she poured the remaining sand into the jar. The sand wiggled its away around the rocks and pebbles and everything could fit in the jar.

I realized that my remembering this lesson was the Spirit whispering to me that if I was obedient and focused on making the Christ the center of each day, through scripture study, prayer and institute attendance, I would be able to survive that week. After the important rocks were in place, everything else would find its place. Elder Christofferson taught this when he said,

“Once adequate time and means….for centering our lives in Christ, have been put in place, we can begin to add other responsibilities and things of value insofar as time and resources will permit…. In this way, the essential will not be crowded out of our lives by the merely good, and things of lesser value will take a lower priority or fall away altogether.” 

I testify of the truth of that statement. During that busy week, I made meaningful scripture study a priority even if it meant waking up an hour earlier than was necessary. I viewed that hour of morning scripture reading not as lost study time, but as a means to enhance my school studies. After reading, I had a very real sense of calm and happiness despite my packed schedule. This peace made it easier for me to study effectively. It turns out the primary song is right, every day I need the power that I get each time I read.

The scriptures themselves have no shortage of examples of obedience. In the Book of Mormon, Lehi was obedient in the face of a daunting unknown future, something many of us as young adults are facing. He left the comfort and security of Jerusalem and took his large family into the vast, uncharted wilderness. The Lord gave him means of direction, but, as we read in 1 Nephi 16:28 this compass only worked according to the faith and diligence and heed which they did give unto it. I think this is very applicable to our own lives: the means for divine strength and guidance are available to us, but we must have the faith, act with diligence and heed the direction we are given. One way I think we can show that faith and diligence is by placing ourselves in circumstances where Heavenly Father can communicate with us. We need to show by our actions that we desire His help. This may mean attending all three hours of church, coming to dorm prayer, going institute. Really seeking every opportunity to receive answers to our pleas for help.

And of course, Lehi’s son Nephi is the very archetype of an obedience. His motto of ‘I will go and do’ leads his life. We see it in his persistence in obtaining the brass plates, not giving up when at first he is unsuccessful. And later on we see it in his immediate willingness to follow the command to build a ship. Not questioning if it could be done, but only asking where to start. Truly obedience is what made Nephi great.

There are many other, but our greatest example of obedience comes, of course, from the Savior Jesus Christ.

Elder Hales taught, “… of all the lessons we learn from the life of the Savior, none is more clear and powerful than the lesson of obedience.”  He goes on,

"As our understanding of obedience deepens, we recognize the essential role of agency. When Jesus was in the Garden of Gethsemane, He prayed three times to His Father in Heaven, “O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me: nevertheless not as I will, but as thou wilt.” God would not override the Savior’s agency, yet He mercifully sent an angel to strengthen His Beloved Son.

The Savior met another test on Golgotha, where He could have called upon legions of angels to take Him down from the cross, but He made His own choice to obediently endure to the end and complete His atoning sacrifice, even though it meant great suffering, even death." 

I wonder if a lifetime of obedient living prepared the Savior to endure at this crucial moment. Through obedience, he had come to love and trust His Father perfectly, and he let that love motivate him to complete his great sacrifice.

I have been called to share this great message of love as a full time missionary in the Virginia Richmond Mission. I hope to follow my Savior’s example in letting my love for Heavenly Father motivate me to be obedient. In the packet that accompanies a call to serve, there is a letter from the first presidency of the church. A portion of that letter reads: “As you continue to read and study the scriptures, you will increase your personal knowledge and testimony of the Savior and His gospel. You will be motivated to be obedient and to work hard.”

I testify that as we study the life of our Savior in the scriptures we CAN find the motivation and faith to be obedient. President Uchtdorf taught us this when he said,

“Over time, you will recognize His hand in your life. You will feel His love. And the desire to walk in His light and follow His way will grow with every step of faith you take. We call these steps of faith “obedience.” 

Commandments that now may seem a burden to us will become our wings. That which we don’t understand can become clear to us overtime. It is my prayer that we can all examine our desires and motivations to see where we can better align ourselves with the Savior’s great plan of becoming. His plan isn’t our last chance, but our only chance. I testify that his atonement and gospel will make more of out of our lives than we ever could on our own. He is truly the way, the truth, and the life. I am so grateful for my membership in his restored church.  In the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Elder Christofferson: "How to Make Christ the Center of our Lives" 

Elder Hales: "If Ye Love Me Keep My Commandments"

President Uchtdorf: "He Will Place You on His Shoulders and Carry You Home"

Sabbath Delights: Weekday thoughts

I hope you have realized how much I love the Sabbath day by now. If not, let me give you another reason. On Sunday, at least for me, the thoughts (good and bad) and impressions I had during the week always seem to come together and their higher purpose illuminated. I am able to look back on experiences and better see them for what they were. Things that I deemed insignificant reveal their importance. I testify of dear President Packer's words: "There is a process by which pure intelligence can flow, by which we can come to know of a surety, nothing doubting." I feel I have experienced, at least in small part, that flow of pure of intelligence. And I have found it to be the most desirable experience of my life.

Today I was reminded of a fleeting thought I had in the Logan Temple on Saturday. It was special at the time, but became even more so as I pondered over it today. Saturday morning brought a 5:30 AM wake up call to go to the temple with my roommate Chrystal and two of her friends. It was a beautiful morning, and miraculously I didn't feel the least bit tired. As a matter of fact, I was filled with happiness the second my confused brain could wake up and remember why I was getting up before the sun. In the dressing room of the baptistery, there was this sweet, elderly temple worker sitting in a chair in the corner. I'm not sure what her actual assignment was; she seemed to just sit and smile and offer direction when needed. As I walked past her, I felt a lot of love wrap around my heart. Here was a humble, covenant-keeping woman serving simply as she had been asked to, in a small corner of the Logan, Utah temple. She was not addressing a large crowd, or planning a large event, or even orchestrating that baptistery. This sweet lady was sitting, smiling and offering pure service, in a locker room. The Spirit whispered to me that her sacrifice was just as appreciated, accepted and honored by the Savior than any other more noticeable calling. Service to the Lord is service. Visibility does not equal value. :) 

"And behold, I tell you these things that ye may learn wisdom; that ye may learn that when ye are in the service of your fellow beings ye are only in the service of your God" ~Mosiah 2:17

You never know what you'll learn at the temple eh?

My Mission Call

A half an hour before midnight on August 31, 1997, I was brought into this world.

Oooo dramatic ;) But really, the timing of my birth has proved to be significant on occasion. With such a late summer birthday, I was nearly always the youngest in my class. I only noticed the gap on special years like 8, 12 and 16. But I didn't anticipate how the gap would widen when it came time for missions. There are several sisters from my class that will come home just a few months after I leave! And most of the boys later this next semester. That makes it feel huge. Buy hey, everyone will be back for my homecoming right? :)

When a member chooses to serve a mission, they are interviewed by their local church leaders, fill out a thorough online application and submit it to the First Presidency of the Church. Culture has dubbed this process 'the mission papers.' Then two or three weeks later the potential missionary will receive a large white envelope in the mail. Inside that envelope is a letter from the office of the Presidency assigning that missionary to one of the 300-plus missions. There is no requesting a specific area of service, rather, each call is assigned by a member of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles. I offer my personal testimony that mission calls come from God through His servants. To read more on the assigning process read this beautiful talk from Elder Rasband: The Divine Call of a Missionary.

Receiving a mission call is a very sacred, powerful experience in a young person's life. Many choose to invite friends and family over to their home to share in the excitement of opening the envelope. Some people even turn it into a full blown party with food and decorations. Throughout my senior year and the following summer, I attended many of these what we call 'openings.' It is so fun to watch the missionaries faces' light up as they read where they have been assigned to serve.

But it is a different experience entirely when the call has your name on it. Here is my 'call story'.

I decided to have my call sent to my home, rather than my college dorm. My Stake President submitted my application on Sunday September 11. I wasn't too nervous the following week, knowing there was no way it would come that week. The next, though, I was checking my phone constantly waiting for that special text Here's a little sample of what went on between 12 and 2 everyday haha:

By third week, I wasn't feeling as nervous oddly enough. Whenever people would ask me where I wanted to go, I would reply by saying I didn't care, I just wanted to know where!

The week my call did come was a rough one. I was physically exhausted, which has a tendency to make me emotionally exhausted as well. There just seemed to be so much negativity, darkness, and doubt shoved into my hands that week and I was having a hard time putting it down. Thursday mornings I have a literary analysis class. I love it, but our discussions can sometimes be disheartening as people express their disbelief in God and religion. Usually I look forward to and find these discussion engaging, but that day(September 30th) I just felt overwhelming and flustered. How could I help these wonderful people see the reality of heavenly guidance in their life? I walked out of the English building beaten down and frankly just ready to find a tree to cry behind. I didn't have time to, however, and marched to the Institute for my mission preparation class haha :)

And of course, on the day that I needed a boost the most, this text arrived:

Now there was no way I could not cry! I sniffled my way all through mission prep. I could not go home and open in that day, because I had an important test the next morning. But alll dayyy long I kept staring at that while envelope with MY name on it. My test went well, then Jess and I headed for home at about 4 o'clock. We made a little video along the way to send to Golda: (and no I didn't realize it was upside down haha)

We got home around 5:15. Jess dropped me off and then left to go to a theater thing. I walked in my house and Austin handed me my call.

 I just hugged it and wouldn't let anyone touch it haha! I had to wait another half hour for everyone to come home, because I wanted my whole family to be there. I decided not to have a large 'opening' party--I wanted this to be a special day just with my immediate family. We all gathered in the living room and I asked my dad to say a prayer before we got started. I then proceed to struggle to get that envelope open! Seriously it was closed up tight haha. While I worked on it, my family called out their guesses. I didn't feel nervous at all until I could I got the envelope open enough to see the call letter. Not even my assignment, just the call itself sent my heart racing like crazy. I was about to read where the Lord would have me serve His children for 18 months. The enormity of the moment hit me like tsunami.

In the weeks leading up to my call, I prayed everyday to be spiritual ready to receive my call. I desired a spiritual confirmation that this was the place Heavenly Father had called me to. When I read out 'Virginia Richmond Mission', I was frankly really surprised. I had never considered Virginia! I had, for a plethora of reasons I won't go into, convinced myself that I was going to have to learn a foreign language. I really believed that. The idea of foreign speaking scared me, but I convinced myself that I was ready to do it. So yeah, a Stateside English-speaking language really surprised, I might even say shocked, me. But the Spirit whispered the words of Isaiah 55:9 to my heart:

"For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts."

That spiritual confirmation I had prayed did come, just not as immediately as I thought. It took some time for me to get off my high horse. As I watched General Conference over the next two days, however, my re-occurring thought was this: I don't want to go anywhere but Richmond, Virginia!!! Heavenly Father has called me there and His ways are perfect! Why would I wish for anything else!

Those feelings still very much remain, but sometimes they get shadowed by fear and doubt. But I found scripture from the Doctrine and Covenants to be my savior:

Look unto me in every thought, not to Virginia's humidity, not to my imperfections, not to the nonbelievers, not to how long 18 months may seem, but unto Him. Then that last line comes naturally. Doubts and fears fade away when you stop thinking about them :) 

Thank you for all your support. I love Richmond, Virginia and can't wait to be a sister missionary for Christ's restored church.

Sabbath Delights: Then it's easy.

Our home kitchen table is a generous host. It graciously welcomes paint stains, nail polish remover (sorry mom), messy spaghetti dinners, melted wax from birthday cakes, and all without a single complaint. It has also served as a backdrop to countless math study sessions. Nearly every evening in high school our kitchen table provided me a place to sprawl out all of my textbooks and crumpled papers. A busy dance schedule meant I usually didn't begin homework until nine p.m. or later. But no matter how late I struggled through math questions, my Dad always sat right next to me. Willing and anxious to help. Without a single complaint. 

Thanks to my brilliant father, I sure memorized a lot of equations, formulas and theories at that kitchen table. But to be perfectly honest, I don't remember hardly any of them ('hardly' is a bit generous...). There some lessons from those study session, however, I that I don't think I'll ever forget. One instance in particular has been flashing in my mind the past few days. 

One night, in my frustration over some math concept, I yelled out, "Dad this is too hard! I can't do it!" My Dad, in his ever mild-tempered manner, just said, "Emily, it is only hard until you understand. Then it's easy." I just kinda went, 'Oh duh.' Once I could understand the equations then all the problems became easy. 

Want to know why that conversation has stuck with me? Me too :) Lately, I think it's because his advice doesn't just apply to math problems. The application can be much more difficult, but it's still true. 

Brigham Young, second president of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, once said:

"Every trial and experience you have passed through is necessary for your salvation.

'Necessary'--that is a bold statement. But I also find it immensely comforting. Believing that all the unfair, painful and frustrating things are in actuality preparing us for salvation is precious. God doesn't give us hardship without divine reasoning. He wants to mold us into the best, highest, happiest versions of ourselves. Some things we may understand now, and some not until the next life, but it will all make sense someday. In the meantime we can find peace. My Dad's method for math homework is helpful in that regard: find the right equation (prayerfully try and see how this may refine you), then plug and chug the numbers (endure with hope) until you reach an answer.

good night friends :)

Sabbath Delights: There is always a fresh page.

Sweet peace. That is what filled my heart during the last hour of Relief Society today. We were discussing the renewal of life that the Savior offers us every week through the sacrament. Flipping through my journal during the lesson and I found this entry that I'd like to share. I testify that the hope I mention is possible because of the sacrifice offered by Jesus Christ.

~August 26, 2016~

Here we are on the last day of summer. It really does feel as if the words are already written on these pages before I get to them. But they are not really. Which pages will be scribbles of barely contained excitement, and which of methodical exploration of thought? Will a tear mar a corner or will ticket stub fill the page? What new names will be introduced, and which will stop appearing? Are there opportunities and changes that I cannot now expect resting between the trees? Probably. Frustrations, joys, boredoms, new ideas, confusion, discovery; all of it awaits is place on a line.

But the joy in all of that comes from hope. Hope that whatever words become appropriate to detail my life, there is always a fresh page with new words. Another day, another change, another realization. The ferocity of my strokes doesn't stay constant for very long. These days keep on surprising me and giving way to prose I never intended. And then at my man-made turning points, I read over the words as they sit in past, unchanging but not without life. They still hold the feeling, the sights, the whole significance of that day. My feelings remain very much alive on the paper. How true was Lewis when he said,

'Isn't it funny how day by day nothing changes, but when you look back everything is different.'

Sabbath Delights: Reaching my reaches

Sacrament meeting may very well be my favorite hour of the week. I really mean that. Today was especially sweet. My reachings were reached, if you know what I mean. The questions, concerns, and problems that had made a home in my head were touched and calmed. The things so far back that I had forgotten that they are not permanent residents, but learning experiences making their way through were hurried along. When our hearts are prepared, the sacrament ordinance has the same feeling of peace as the temple.

That preparation is what I would like to touch on briefly here today. The last speaker in sacrament meeting had some beautiful thoughts on the matter that really spoke true to me. His overall point was this: The Sabbath is a delight when we have revelatory experiences. In order to have revelatory experiences, we need to prepare ourselves spiritually. I can testify to that sincerely. Feeling close to God is the greatest delight you will ever have in your life. Here is small list of ideas for being prepared for Sunday:

•  Don't stay up too late on Saturday, even if you have one o'clock church. Being able to wake up comfortably and having a calm morning is important. Give yourself time to eat a solid breakfast and pray sincerely.
• Think over the week before you get to church. This was something I hadn't though of before. Examine yourself over the past few days and see where you need to pray for forgiveness and strength. Doing this ahead of time will keep you more focused during the meeting.
• Pray, pray, pray. Give your full heart into the prayer given over the pulpit. Be apart of that supplication to Heavenly Father.
• Turn your phone on airplane mode. Yep, do it before you get to church. That way you can still use your scriptures without the distraction of emails and notifications.

I know, that really is short list. But I can testify that if you will ponder over how to be prepared for Sunday you will know what to do. Your reachings can be reached.

Thanks for reading this, consider yourself loved.

Sabbath Delights: He wanted to be.

"It is important to remember that Jesus was capable of sinning, that he could have succumbed, that the plan of life and salvation could have been foiled, but that he remained true. Had there been no possibility of his yielding to the enticement of Satan, there would have been no real test, no genuine victory in the result...He was perfect and sinless, not because he had to be, but rather because he clearly and determinedly wanted to be." ~Howard W. Hunter

This quote was actually first brought to my attention in Institute up at school this week. I loved it. I read it again during sacrament meeting and shared it with my family members. When we speak of the Savior's perfect, sinless life do we remember that it was possible for him to sin? Jesus was not stripped of his agency during his mortal journey. He could have succumbed. But the glorious fact is that he did not. The temptations Jesus overcame were more ferocious and relentless than anything we will ever face. But our older brother did not let us down. I love what President Hunter goes on to say, "We should take strength for this battle from the fact that Christ was victorious not as a God but as a man."

Because that, he knows how to succor us as man. I believe that to be true.

We need birthdays.

I love crazy, overenthusiastic celebration of birthdays. I'd even confidently say that I believe in celebrating birthdays. We need to. Humans are painfully imperfect, and often wait upon occasion to express themselves. Without birthdays, a lot of love would go unshared and words unspoken. I enjoy my friends' and family member's birthdays even more than my own. To think seriously over what would excite and surprise them the most is thrilling. Finding that perfect gift or activity gives you a serious case of the warm fuzzys. We all love people, we just need birthdays to push us into expressing it.

Today happens to be my day of birth. And do you wanna know the best part of today? Not the new dress, or notebook, cake or even ice cream, it was the kind, heartfelt text messages I received steadily throughout the day. It seemed like every time I pulled out my phone there were happy words staring back me. Not many people I was with today knew it was my birthday, but you guys did. Thank you for voicing your love. I felt it. The few moments you took to send me a message added up to make my homework filled day beautiful. I feel inspired to share love more freely and abundantly because of how good I felt today. No matter how good life might be going, or how confident someone may seem, we all need to be told we are loved and have desirable qualities now and again.

My dear Jess wrote me a particularly beautiful message that had my make-up cried off by the end of the first paragraph. Being told you are pretty, or stylish or cute is great and good and I thank you all for it. But when someone pens in thought out prose that you possess the very quailites you desire most to have, it moves something in you. Not to appear vain, but it helps you recognize them in yourself. The little things we dislike within us can easily bury the things we do. Sometimes the only solution is for someone else to dig us out. Thanks Jess.

Thank you everybody. I hope we can speak our love and then speak it again.

Sabbath Delights: Fought Most Desperately

First day in my new student ward. I definitely went into church with some questions and worries on mind. For the last few weeks of summer, I have felt an absence of something from my life. Outwardly nothing was amiss: my nannying job was wonderful, my family was free from any illnesses, and I was ecstatic about my upcoming semester at USU. But there seemed to be a lack of the deep sense of spirituality I had thrived on in the earlier months. My scripture study was consistent, but lacking real feeling. Confidence I felt I had on gospel subjects was waning.  My time spent among the negativity of Facebook was reaching inordinate levels. My thoughts and I had many hours alone together while two-year-old Eion took his daily nap. At first, I looked forward with great anticipation to these afternoons and the time it provided to study. But I soon found myself consumed by thoughts I didn't want and with no distractions to relieve me. I occasionally woke Eion up early as to have someone, even a tiny someone, to talk to.

I had an inkling of what was causing my current funk, and today it was illuminated clearly. Here was the problem: my summer life was too easy.

Yep, my problem was that life had been too easy for too long. Nannying the sweetest baby presented no real opportunities for growth. I rarely met new people from whom to learn from. There were no challenging school assignments to push me to explore. I didn't take any vacations to let my eyes enjoy new landscapes and ways of life. Everything was easy, familiar and calm. Everyday. There was no battle to become something that summer. At first this was a welcome change of pace from being a stressed out freshman. But soon I began to really miss the busyness of school. Without questions to confront, scripture study was without real power. I was surrounded by diverse people to learn to love and serve. My life was just kinda floating along leisurely. My soul longed for the rush that accompanies revelation like what I had received earlier regarding a big decision. It was time for change.

In Sunday School, the teacher brought the classes attention to a verse that captured my feelings and taught me what needed to happen in my life. Alma 57:19:

"But behold, my little band of two thousand and sixty fought most desperately..."

The teacher elaborated on the verse by discussing how she too had felt something was lacking in her summer life. Her scripture had too becoming more of a check-list. And prayers robotic. She then shared how this verse and a talk by Sister Nelson helped her to snap out of it. Sister Nelson says:

"Desperation can actually be a great motivator. Clearly, the Prophet Joseph Smith experienced intense desperation in Liberty Jail. He pled with the Lord, "O God, where art thou?" Because of such intense spiritual desperation, the Prophet received some of the most sublime revelations of this dispensation. When we're desperate to be guided by heaven, we work harder than ever to tune in to heaven."

This idea of desperation as a motivator struck both the teacher and me. We saw a need to fight more desperately to become the people we want to be. To be more aware of spiritually deadening influences in our lives. I went home and eager to read the rest of Sister Nelson's talk. It was just what I was needing in my life. These words had me pinned:

"When we’re desperate to become the people we were born to be, our vision changes. We wake up from the spiritual amnesia the adversary so cleverly administers, and suddenly we see things about ourselves, others, and our lives we’ve never seen before. The world’s “fun” and “entertainment” start to look almost ridiculous, perhaps even spiritually dangerous. We begin to see the adversary’s tricks and traps for what they really are—temptations to make us forget our true identity and our destination....The scriptures become our "go-to source" for answers and for the comfort we may realize we've been seeking online."

It is moments like this I know God is perfectly aware of us. No need, concern or worry goes unnoticed. Heavenly Father knew exactly how frustrated I was feeling. He knew what I needed to hear and what needed to change. This semester I am going to begin a more concentrated, deliberate effort to become who I want to be. I am going to be more alert to the spiritual amnesia in my life. I believe that as we do those things that allow the Spirit to accompany our lives, we can know what to do. Our lives will become much greater than if left to our own devices.

I love this gospel! This religion! This life!

Sabbath Delights: Pleasure and Joy

There are many things I find pleasurable in this world. Freshly washed blankets, warm peach cobbler, and early summer air, just to name a few. But no matter how soft and beautiful the blanket, it quickly loses its fresh smell and eventually its soft touch. The peach cobbler, while perfectly delicious in the moment will leave an aching belly in its wake if I am not careful. And that morning air turns hot and sticky much faster than I'd like. These simple things are very real and very enjoyable, but don't last long.

In Sunday School today, we discussed what it means to be happy. Many in this world claim happiness in spite of their disregard for commandments and moral laws. People are ignorantly content with their freshly washed blankets, or so to speak. They do not see a need for more because they are already happy. The pleasures of this world are bountiful and nearly limitless, but they are also hollow and with unreliable. President David O. Mckay's sums it up:

There is meant to be so much more to life than a fun camping trip, round of golf, or even warm peach cobbler.

But unfortunately for us narrow-minded humans, joy is not as easily obtained as is pleasure. We must develop the capacity to feel it. It was once explained to me like this: when we experience pain it is as if a great reservoir is being dug within us. The deeper our sufferings the deeper the well. A large hole will remain carved by the injustice, betrayal or rejection we have endured. Because of Christ's sacrifice, however, that hole can now become a reservoir for joy. We can hold more of it because of the hole carved by suffering. Our capacity for joy is increased. That is part of the reason we need adversity in our lives. Because of him no pain ever need be permanent. Rather, that pain elevates us to higher ground.

Elder Dale G. Renlund of the Quorum of the Twelve apostles posted the following on his Facebook page:

"I spent some time during our summer break time reading C. S. Lewis’s "The Great Divorce." I was intrigued by much of what I read. One quote in particular that I... have continued to ponder is:

“[Mortals] say of some temporal suffering, ‘No future bliss can make up for it,’ not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory. And of some sinful pleasure they say ‘Let me but have this and I’ll take the consequences’: little dreaming how damnation will spread back and back into their past and contaminate the pleasure of the sin. Both processes begin even before death. The good man’s past begins to change so that his forgiven sins and remembered sorrows take on the quality of Heaven: the bad man’s past already conforms to his badness and is filled only with dreariness. And that is why at the end of all things, when the sun rises here and the twilight turns to blackness down there, the Blessed will say, ‘We have never lived anywhere except in Heaven,’ and the Lost, ‘We were always in Hell.’ And both will speak truly.”

Rather than have our mistakes, disappointments, struggles, and trials push us “downward,” we can use them to help us build toward heaven. That is what it means to come unto Christ. As we allow His atoning sacrifice to redeem us, heal us, and strengthen us, we become what we came to earth to become."

How grateful I am to know, and believe, that because of him my time on earth has meaning and purpose. Because of him we can all find joy again.

Those Olympic Commercials Though

I love the Olympics.

My family pays absolutely no attention to sports except the Olympics. But do you want to know what may be even better than watching these world class athletes compete? Watching them play actor. I'm going to go ahead and say that Olympic commercials are even better than the Superbowl's; bold statement I know. *Note: the only reason I even know about the Superbowl is because my mom has six sports enthused brothers. I usually don't even know who is playing until the day of.

In the minutes between NBC coverage, it appears that someone turned 'Merica!' onto full blast and forgot to turn it off. One of my favorites this year has to be the Gillette Venus razor commercial featuring Gabby Douglas. P&G is using America's buff sweetheart to convince us that we need a fancy ($9.00) razor to swipe hair off our legs. Am I the only one who finds that funny? Not athletic equipment or health food, but razors. Watching the commercial almost makes you think that rubbing that thing across your leg will produce calves like Gabby's. And speaking of health food, how ironic is it that McDonalds is the Official Restaurant of the Olympics? As if these athletes can allow such horrendous junk food in their diet while in training. I've always wondered if the athletes love shooting the McDonald's commercial because they get to indulge in the fatty goodness that is a large contributor to this nation's health epidemic. Merica!

One more, than I'll move on. The Liberty Mutual Insurance Team USA Medals commercial. This one is so 'Merica!' that I almost can't even. Kayla Harrison, she brought home America's first gold medal in Judo, appears on screen assuring us that we 'already know' what it feels like to earn an Olympic gold medal. The shot then cuts to her jogging through a green, clean, picturesque American neighborhood. She passes a man affectionately cleaning his car--his bronze medal, if you will. Next is a young couple lovingly moving boxes from a truck into their new home--their silver medal. And lastly, we run past a young, fit mother pushing her 'gold' in a stroller as she walks. The Great American Dream in thirty seconds, with Liberty Mutual to protect it. Ah hometown, cultural values--what would advertisers prey on without them? Please don't think me a harsh critic, I just find this stuff hilarious. #consumerAmerica.

With that said, it appears all this perseverance, go-for-the-gold vibe is rubbing off on me. If what I am about to say sounds like the next Team USA McDonalds script, well, you can't say I didn't warn you.

I believe everyone should do something that makes them feel like an athlete.

As I am in the midst of my 'figuring out what the heck to do with my life' phase, I started doing a little writing exercise in my journal. I write 'This Much I Know' at the top of a page and then jot down an idea or belief that I feel I can say I really know. Here is one I wrote a few months ago:

This much I know: Running alleviates the pressure to make the needed room for enlightenment. How I treasure my solitary runs surrounded by snow-dusted mountains and hand painted skies. The rhythm of my breath and pounding of my feet clears my head and restores my confidence like no other remedy. 40 minutes of pumping legs can turn a day of self-doubt and discouragement to a time of self-love and renewal to try again. Our bodies are capable of SO much and I pity those that do not experiment with its potential. I am surely no athlete or ballerina, but I have often looked on in amazement at how my muscles can adapt so quickly to what I require of them. One of my greatest aspirations in life is to maintain good health so that I may continue to explore the great creation God has gifted me to house my spirit. I want to always be climbing mountains and soaking in nature's exquisite beauty--no matter how old I am. How dreadfully awful to be contained to a chair or bed for so many precious years of life. No, I will use everyday gifted to me to marvel at the great outside.

Let me reiterate: I am nothing close to an athlete. I've never competed, unless you count that one 5K race I did in junior high. But I do love to run. There is a beautiful hollow with a nice trail through the middle near my home. If I run to the hollow, then down and back through it, and back to my house it is about three miles. And when I'm feeling good I'll add another two mile loop before returning home. The hollow is full of tall, strong trees with a quaint, little stream trickling through the middle. It is beautiful during all seasons of the year. My feet have crunched dry leaves, dodged icy patches, and squished in spring mud many times over the past three years. I will probably never run marathon, but this trail and I have become pretty good friends.

During this time of Olympic fever I can't help but pretend I'm Simone Biles as I leap over-dramatically across the tiny stream. (My usual trip upon landing keeps reality in check ;)) Or try and channel my inner Ledecky to sprint up the final hill. I certainly don't look like an athlete or time like an athlete, but I can feel like one. And that is what's important. Who cares that I probably look like a drunk walrus in running tights. Don't think you can't explore your muscles' potential because you're not a 'sporty' person. We are capable of so much! The human body, your human body, will amaze you if you give it the chance. Don't let imaginary labels keep you from something better. A world of possibility, accomplishment, and self-confidence awaits you.

Go Team USA.

Go Merica.

Go You.

*ba ba ba da da. I'm lovin' it.

Sabbath Delights: Truly Every Good Thing

LDS Young Single Adult wards are a unique phenomena in the world. Think about it, where else do young adults voluntary come and teach and participate in religious discussions every week. For three hours. Relief Society for Women, Elders Quorum for Men, Sunday School for everyone; it is all taught, conducted and organized by young adults ages 18-30. And more than the logistics of it all, the pure belief and commitment demonstrated by these youth astounds me. We really believe this. A twenty-two old boy isn't going to spend his time preparing a Sunday School lesson unless he recognizes the importance of his calling. Everyone there is so sincere. I am so glad I chose to brave the singles ward this summer. They have taught me so much.

As the day progressed, my reflection over singles wards expanded to the entire Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Today I could easily see how truly every good thing I have in my life is because of Jesus Christ and his restored church. I began to make mental lists of the blessings and would like to share them here. This is not by any means a comprehensive list, just a few things that stood out to me today.

"That the communication of thy faith may become effectual by the acknowledging of every good thing which is in you in Christ Jesus." ~Philemon 1:6

Blessings from a strong family unit:

• Really, my motivation for gaining an education begins with my family. I am so grateful that my parents set the expectation of a college education. Going to school has truly been an exercise for the mind and soul. It is something I wish everyone to experience. If not for the institution and emphasis on families I don't know what I might have done. I testify of the blessing that come as we obey the commandment to 'honor thy father and thy mother'.
• My sisters. Truly our relationships bring the greatest joy to me. The role of big sister is something I treasure and revere. I love my brothers and treasure our relationships also, but something about my sisters, at least at this time of life, is sweet above all else.
• Constant support and love. A family foundation is the strongest foundation.  

Study of The Book of Mormon:

• A kinder, softer heart
• More ambition to do and accomplish things in life.
• More aware of my judgmental attitudes and how to stop them.
• More aware of the world. How to feel the truth and detect the lies.
• A personal relationship with Christ.
• Happiness! Everyday!
• A knowledge that God is aware of me.
• Deeper understanding of gospel doctrines.
• Real connections with the people described in the book.
• A testimony of the book!
• Answers to the quiet questions of my heart.
• Finding application to the world today.
• A closeness to the atonement
• Learning to recognize and follow the spirit. 

The Temple:

• A symbol of the great love Heavenly Father has for us, and His desire that we return to be with Him.
• To be apart of the work of salvation of souls who have passed on.
• To taste of the joy that comes from a covenant keeping life.
• Peace from perspective.
• Clarity between right and wrong.
• Worldly distractions are left at the door. It is as if they cannot even enter your mind. I really, really love that.
• A strong remembrance of who we really are and why we need to be here.
• Personal revelation at any time I need it. This is available always, but especially clear in the temple.

Church Attendance:

• Have you been reading my Sabbath Delight posts??;) If not, go back and read them. Every week is beautiful. And needed.
• Feelings of unity and belonging.
• Participation in the ordinance of the sacrament.
• Singing hymns.
• The experience of others. Struggles, joys-everything.
• A sense of responsibility through fulfilling calls to serve.
• No where do I feel more treasured and respected as a woman than at church.
• Creating meaningful relationships with my neighbors.
• Opportunities to serve and do good.

Oh there is so much more. But these are the things I felt grateful for today. I hope you don't see this as a religious sales pitch, but an honest expression of thanks and belief. These blessing are real and in my life.

"Wherefore I beseech of you brethren, that ye should search diligently in the light of Christ that ye may know good from evil; and if ye will lay hold upon every good thing, and condemn it not, ye certainly will be a child of Christ."

~Moroni 7:19

Sabbath Delight: Sunday Walks

I woke up to the beauty that is falling rain during a hot, hot summer. The faucet turned off and on all day long keeping the air cool and refreshing. It was a welcome change from the heat of early August. Water droplets danced playfully through the swirl of cotton-candy pink and baby-boy blue clouds that filled the sky. Rainbows formed and then melted away as if on orchestrated cues. Pockets of sunshine wiggled their way through the scene, making my mountains take life and glow. Thunder laughed along as it crackled confidently in the not-so-distance. Flashing artworks of lightening stole my breath and attention, anxiously I awaited the next brief preview of blinding light. A daring solo amongst the beauty. Then we joined the dance. Though feet on the ground, we strolled through the sky. The warm rain splattering on our heads-- a clear invitations to join in the fun. Each breath is delicious and clear.

Sunday walks with my family are something I will treasure forever. Amy and I will sometimes walk for twenty or thirty minutes if we have time. It is fun to talk and wave to neighbors, and complete strangers. I hope our energetic smiling and waving have brightened someone's day :)

Zit Talk

At my house, all long-term residents are keenly, and repeatedly, made aware of my 'no zit talk' policy. Whatever my people need to talk over I will gladly listen--except skin care. Anytime a family member begins to complain, I throw my hands up in the air and make them stop. I don't what to hear about whatever just went down in front of the bathroom mirror, and you had better have cleaned off any shrapnel. If you want to relive any gory details, make sure Emily is out, way out, of the vicinity first. That is the policy I have worked to establish in a house of four teenagers. And its worked, mostly. But today I feel impressed to share my painful, both emotionally and physically, struggle against acne. I know this alignment is virtually nothing to the pain hundreds of people endure daily, but it can be super detrimental on a 13-year-olds self esteem. And for those of you who enjoyed clear skin in high school, read on, I hope to weave a universal principle of life into this one time episode of 'zit talk.' *shudders*

Here are the words from President Uchtdorf that got me thinking about this:

"In this [Charlie and the Chocolate Factory] classic children's story, people all over the world desperately yearn to find a golden ticket. Some feel that their entire future happiness depends on whether or not a golden ticket falls into their hands. In their anxiousness, people begin to forget the

simple joy they used to find in a candy bar."

I feel in the past few months I have forgotten the joy that comes from a candy bar, or in my case clear skin. I finally found my golden ticket only to realize it has lost its shiny luster because I shoved it crinkled in the junk drawer in my search for the next one.

I had rashes on my face from the time I was three years old. They came and went, not that I cared when I was that little. Sometime around the age of ten I got red, fiery bumps around my mouth that had to be taken care of through prescription pills twice a day. From then on it was a roller coaster of dermatologist visits and more varieties of creams and pills than I can even remember. But nothing worked for long. The zits and rashes would subside temporarily only to flare back up as my body adjusted to the medication. I cleaned my face a bit obsessively and watched in vain for correlation between certain foods and break-outs. Nothing lasted. 

And I hated it.

The sores were deep and long-lasting even with treatment. They covered my face and down my neck and shoulders. This was especially embarrassing during ballet classes. During the school year I would spend 20-30 minutes each morning vainly working to cover myself with make-up. But that often just irritated my skin further and made everything pulse and ache. It seemed to take so long to be sure nothing was bleeding or especially gross. I honestly felt I had to put in that time or feel bad for everyone who had to talk to me that day. And let's face it, (pun most definitely intended) we all have a certain mental image of the type of kids that have acne. Lazy, weak, greasy, pale and sits alone eating pizza drenched in ranch everyday for lunch etc. But I didn't, or at least didn't want to, see myself like that! I loved exercise, pretty things, making friends and being outside. In my mind, if I could just get rid of this stupid flaw, I could stop worrying about my appearance forever.

With all that said, I don't remember a time when my self-esteem was completely shattered over my complexion. Sure, there were times a few deep breaths in the bathroom stall were necessary before venturing back out, but overall it didn't hold me back. I had my family and the perspective of the gospel that helped me remember that this problem was only skin deep (pun most definitely intended again). This had nothing to do with the happy, bubbly teenager I really was. But no amount of positive thinking stopped painful outbreaks and the occasion tear of frustration. During those years I couldn't image a day where there wouldn't be red spots all over. But, I knew that if they ever did go away, I would be happy forever. ;)

It wasn't until the end of my fist semester of college that things began looking up. I had been on a low-dose of Accutane for almost six months at that point. At the beginning of the medication, everything was waayyy worse. This was to be expected with Accutane, but it was still awful. And not something I had planned on worrying about in college. ('planned worries'?? hmm, we'll talk on that one later.) Now, I've all but stopped stressing out over my skin. It is most obviously not flawless, but really so, so much better. What a luxury it is to wake up and not have to spend 20 minutes getting my face ready to face (okay, done with puns) the day!

But guess what? A perfect life didn't rush in as the zits faded out. I know big surprise ;) Way too soon, I moved on to my next 'golden ticket.' Bright white teeth, thicker hair, thinner legs, eyebrows, (haha blonde probs.) and blah, blah, blah. My insecure seventh grade self had gotten what she had plead for so desperately, but it wasn't enough. It was the harsh realization of my ungrateful, vain and idiotic attitude that helped me to stop waiting on happiness. Here's how President Uchtdorf pens it:

"The happiest people I know are not those who find their golden ticket; they are those who, while in the pursuit of worthy goals, discover and treasure the beauty and sweetness of the everyday moments. They are the ones who, thread by daily thread, weave a tapestry of gratitude and wonder throughout their lives. These are they who are truly happy."

Do you see what a valuable lesson those annoying little zits tried to teach me? Waiting to be happy is such a futile waste of time. Thoughts of, 'Oh once I...' or 'When this over I'll.,.' or even 'I can't wait until...' will stay with you forever if you let them.

Now, please don't think I pride myself on being immune to this trap. I've discovered much bigger issues in this world than bad skin to stress over. Waiting on love, careers, children, financial stability--all are real problems we all face. But I believe we can find reasons to be happy now. And really, what other choice do we have? Here's President Uchtdorf one more time,

"Never stop striving for the best that is within you. Never stop hoping for all of the righteous desires of your heart. But don't close your eyes and hearts to the simple and elegant beauties of each day's ordinary moments that make up a rich, well-lived life."

Like these beautiful forget-me-nots.

Okay, zit talk over.

Sabbath Delight: Testimony, Hymn 137

Today was a day of clarity and confirmation. After church, I was reminded of the final verse of a favorite hymn. As I sung that final verse however, I felt that the hymn was not yet over. There was still more in my heart bursting to be expressed. These next few verses flowed from the experiences and lessons that life as taught me as of late. Difficult, stretching, and tiring, yet hopeful, beautiful, and important.

The first verse comes from the LDS hymn book, the rest are mine to you. If you feel so inclined, here is a link to a piano accompaniment. It is my hope that some will sing along, however quietly, and feel at peace; regardless of the stanza they may now find themselves within.

As testimony fills my heart,
It dulls the pain of days.
For one brief moment, heaven's view
Appears before my gaze.

And then I see how all along,
His gentle hand did guide.
The clouds of fear are swept away
By Jesus the crucified.

Great voices loud and insincere
The light feels far and dim.
Some hearts may falter, steps fall back
But still I trust in Him.

Amidst the dark and foggy path
We can step faithfully,
With grateful hearts for what's to come,
By trusting soon we'll see.

And when that glorious morning breaks
The light again is known
I then look back and understand
The path I have been shown.

Art Stumbling in Salt Lake City

I love art. Every form it takes adds a great thrill to this human experience. Movement, music, words, paintings, photographs, 3-D--all of it prompts a fresh view of life and a deepened belief in the human capacity to create. Of all the forms, I suppose simply due to personal exposure and experience, my heart speaks most to movement and the written word. Absorbing a sincere dancer's energy or soaking in a honest writer's prose brings something to life in me that lays dormant in the dust of everyday life. My determination to never miss an opportunity to be in the presence of passion is renewed every time I find myself in such a situation.

Just yesterday, Jess and I stumbled our way into the LDS's churches 10th International Art Contest. The theme 'Tell me the Stories of Jesus' gave way to personal expressions of the Savior's teachings from across the world. I had clicked my way through pictures of the entries online a few weeks ago, but hadn't realized they were on still display. Jess and I's day trip to Salt Lake City became much more memorable than we anticipated. Entries from Cambodia, Italy, Malaysia, Japan, and elsewhere held our attention for over two hours on the second floor of the Church History museum.

I LOVE purpose of the contest: 'To showcase the breadth and diversity of Latter-day Saints cultural production and to make manifest the various styles, techniques, media and voices of Mormon art. Such efforts expand the canon from the familiar images that adorn the halls of ward buildings to include new approaches to depicting beloved gospel subjects, thereby adding to our cultural legacy and visual heritage."

Wow, right?! I love the familiar art in church hallways, but it is all so western. So American. As Latter-Day Saints, we believe that man was created in God's image. But, as my institute teacher once pointed out, we often take that to mine our own image, or that God looks like we do. This results in artists depicting the Savior in their own race and coloring. As we are not idol worshipers, meaning we don't pray directly to the pictures, I suppose it doesn't really matter. But it is so important to remember that Christ is the Savior of every nation, tongue and people. God created the every piece of land on this earth. Men's identification of which nations are Christian and which are not do not change that.

'Know ye not that there are more nations than one? Know ye not that I, the Lord your God, have created all men, and that I remember those who are upon the isles of the sea; and that I rule in the heavens above and in the earth beneath; and I bring forth my word unto the children of men, yea, even upon all the nations of the earth?' ~2 Nephi 29:7

As each submission to the contest was so compelling I will not try and pick a favorite. But there are a few that stand out in my mind. Each brought with it a connection to my brothers and sisters, even as far away as Cambodia.

Early Morning with the Savior

By  Sopheap Nhem. And the accompanying description: "Nhem depicts the children of Cambodia surrounding Jesus, who knows each one of them individually and gathers them into His outstretched arms. They look to Him and gather happily around Him. The artist chose the colors of pink and orange because they are, for her, associated with peace and regality, symbolic of the Savior Himself. Said Jesus, “Suffer little children to come unto me, . . . for of such is the kingdom of God” (Luke 18:16)."

Jesus and the Angry Babies

By Brian Kershisnik. "The New Testament records that young children were brought to Jesus and “his disciples rebuked those that brought them. But when Jesus saw it, he was much displeased, and said unto them, Suffer the little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God” (Mark 10:13–14). Here, Kershisnik envisions messy and wiggly young children, misbehaving while sitting on Jesus’s knee, and a compassionate Jesus, who loves us in our humanity."

Martha's Chair

By Shelley Mendenhall Detton. "Martha’s vacant chair is an invitation to listen to the words of the Savior. The chair suggests our heavenly origin and the need to make time for holy things. The ribbon refers to the blessings waiting to be given to us if we turn toward Christ daily. Today, many of us live in a culture in which we are expected to stay busy, yet such busyness can cause us to miss the “that good part” (Luke 10:42)."

Out of the 944 submissions, there are dozens of selected pieces on display at the Church History museum in Salt Lake City. Each as diverse and unique as a snowflake. For those living in the Salt Lake area, please don't miss this phenomenal showcase. Here is a link to the online gallery if Salt Lake is beyond your reach: Tell Me the Stories of Jesus International Art Competition