Entry: Faith
I only went to Primary a handful of times. On ocassion my mom would attend Relief Society and drop my sister off at nursery and me off at Primary. I don't remember much about it. I had been 8 years old for about 5 months before my teacher realized I hadn't been baptized yet. So she scheduled an appointment for me with the Bishop during class. I didn't know what was going on. Even though the Bishop was very nice, I remember sitting in his office feeling incredibly nervous. He asked me some questions. Next thing I knew I was going to get baptized.
I remember the week leading up to my baptism. I talked about it non stop. I wasn't exactly sure what it all meant. I'd get my sins washed away. I'd make a promise with God. I'd have to be good, good, good. But I wanted it. I felt so compelled to be "good" or perhaps God would be mad at me. My understanding at that age was very limited. Not to mention I had never really been taught about the gospel at home. Yet, I was so eager for the big day. And when it came I was very excited because I knew it was an important day. Many of my family members came (the majority of which were inactive or non-members of the church.) Most of the actual baptism is a blur to me now. Although, I know I was confirmed the same night. I remember some men laying their hands on my head, my hair still dripping with water. And this is the part that isn't a blur. The feeling I felt after I was baptized and confirmed. The warm feeling in my heart.
When we got home that night I recall my sister and I laying on the lawn with our big pillows. It was a warm night. Dusk. Everyone was gone by then. We were alone in the grass and we layed there and talked. I tried to explain the joy in my heart to Steph. But I couldn't describe THAT feeling. The memory of that particular sensation has never left me. I knew very little about the gospel or Jesus or even Heavenly Father at that time. Yes, I had prayed to them before and I had felt peace from praying. But this feeling was different. Even with my scarce experience and knowledge there was no way I could deny that feeling. It WAS NOT something anybody could have ever "taught" me. It was real. A warm, sweet tingling all over. Like I truly was clean and could feel Their arms around me. I could feel that. And nobody can ever take that memory from me. It has always been such a sacrosanct part of my past. Something that has increased my faith in times of doubt.
Unfortunately, for whatever reason, I don't remember going to church again for a very long time. It wasn't until about age 12 when we moved to our 3rd house that I started attending church again.
Friday, May 29, 2009
Self Discovery 2 part 2
Entry: Faith
My first experience with faith occurred when I was about 5 years old. Around that age I started to have severe episodes of sleepwalking. It was really quite bad. I would go outside and walk toward the highway. (We lived in the country.) My mom would wake up to find me outside then run out and steer me back into the house. Or I would walk out into the field behind our house with the dog. Or mess around in the kitchen opening drawers and the fridge and pulling things out. These sleepwalking episodes went on for a long time. I had anxiety attacks leading up to bedtime. I was always so scared that something bad was going to happen while we were asleep. Like someone was going to break in or the house was going to catch on fire and we would all die, you know, really traumatic things like that. I was way embarrassed to tell my mom that I was having these panic attacks. But after doing some medical research, my mom figured it out anyway, and concluded that anxiety was most likely the cause of the sleepwalking.
Wanting to ease my fears, and not really knowing what else to do, my mom taught me how to pray. Up until that point I don't think I had ever prayed before. Growing up in an inactive household, we just didn't pray as a family. Not at dinner, not before bed, not in the mornings. Never. But Mom knelt beside my bed one night and we said a prayer together. She prayed that we would all be protected while we slept and afterwards emphasized that Heavenly Father and Jesus would watch over me, so not to worry. This was such a huge thing for just a small girl. Every night after that I never forgot to say a prayer, whether it was with my mom or by myself. I had been taught that there was a God and that there was a Savior. A mustard seed had been planted. And I had so much faith in them. I had faith they would keep me safe. And not long after, my sleepwalking episodes stopped completely.
My first experience with faith occurred when I was about 5 years old. Around that age I started to have severe episodes of sleepwalking. It was really quite bad. I would go outside and walk toward the highway. (We lived in the country.) My mom would wake up to find me outside then run out and steer me back into the house. Or I would walk out into the field behind our house with the dog. Or mess around in the kitchen opening drawers and the fridge and pulling things out. These sleepwalking episodes went on for a long time. I had anxiety attacks leading up to bedtime. I was always so scared that something bad was going to happen while we were asleep. Like someone was going to break in or the house was going to catch on fire and we would all die, you know, really traumatic things like that. I was way embarrassed to tell my mom that I was having these panic attacks. But after doing some medical research, my mom figured it out anyway, and concluded that anxiety was most likely the cause of the sleepwalking.
Wanting to ease my fears, and not really knowing what else to do, my mom taught me how to pray. Up until that point I don't think I had ever prayed before. Growing up in an inactive household, we just didn't pray as a family. Not at dinner, not before bed, not in the mornings. Never. But Mom knelt beside my bed one night and we said a prayer together. She prayed that we would all be protected while we slept and afterwards emphasized that Heavenly Father and Jesus would watch over me, so not to worry. This was such a huge thing for just a small girl. Every night after that I never forgot to say a prayer, whether it was with my mom or by myself. I had been taught that there was a God and that there was a Savior. A mustard seed had been planted. And I had so much faith in them. I had faith they would keep me safe. And not long after, my sleepwalking episodes stopped completely.
Wednesday, May 20, 2009
You should never ask....
if someone is pregnant, especially if you don't know them very well. This happened to me not too long ago. I might've been more offended if they had asked me in person because then I would've taken that to mean I LOOK preggers. But this person asked me over the phone. A little caught off gaurd, I asked "Why?" And they said, "You just sound like you're pregnant." Really? Is this even possible? Eeesh, some people need to mind their business.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Aw...Flowers
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Books
The Lovely Bones
by Alice Sebold
After reading The Effects of Light, I looked up some reviews for it online to find out what others had thought of it. It was in one of those reviews that The Lovely Bones was recommended. I started reading passages online and before I knew it, I got wrapped up in the story. So the next day I went to the local library to check out a copy.
The Lovely Bones tells of the murder of the narrator, 14 year old Susie Salmon. Up in her heaven she watches her family, classmates, and even her killer as they go about their lives. She sees how her death has affected them. She observes the heartache and the struggle each member of her family experiences. She spies on Ruth, the awkward girl she accidentally brushed up against as her spirit left Earth. She also keeps an eye on Ray, the boy whom she liked. The boy she had the chance of kissing just once before her life was taken away. Susie takes the reader through the years before and after her death. What life was like before she was brutally killed, and how her small town copes with the loss after she's gone. I thought the author did a good job with this book. She spends time developing each character in a way that the reader easily becomes attached to them. The author's writing style is a bit different than most books I've read. She has a way of describing things unlike I would or even other authors would. While most of the language was very visual and beautiful, sometimes I'd read a line and laugh out loud because it sounded so cheesy. But those times were few and far between. I've got to admit though, I was impressed with the way the author approached the whole murder/rape of the main character. Yes, it was a bit uncomfortable to read about, but the whole incident was very point-blank. The author didn't go into gory detail or linger over it. The book didn't carry a lasting negative feeling. I thought the book was actually somewhat uplifting, insightful and entertaining. It was an easy book to get through and digest. Most importantly it kept my attention. I wouldn't recommend this book to "sensitive" readers, however.
by Alice Sebold
After reading The Effects of Light, I looked up some reviews for it online to find out what others had thought of it. It was in one of those reviews that The Lovely Bones was recommended. I started reading passages online and before I knew it, I got wrapped up in the story. So the next day I went to the local library to check out a copy.
The Lovely Bones tells of the murder of the narrator, 14 year old Susie Salmon. Up in her heaven she watches her family, classmates, and even her killer as they go about their lives. She sees how her death has affected them. She observes the heartache and the struggle each member of her family experiences. She spies on Ruth, the awkward girl she accidentally brushed up against as her spirit left Earth. She also keeps an eye on Ray, the boy whom she liked. The boy she had the chance of kissing just once before her life was taken away. Susie takes the reader through the years before and after her death. What life was like before she was brutally killed, and how her small town copes with the loss after she's gone. I thought the author did a good job with this book. She spends time developing each character in a way that the reader easily becomes attached to them. The author's writing style is a bit different than most books I've read. She has a way of describing things unlike I would or even other authors would. While most of the language was very visual and beautiful, sometimes I'd read a line and laugh out loud because it sounded so cheesy. But those times were few and far between. I've got to admit though, I was impressed with the way the author approached the whole murder/rape of the main character. Yes, it was a bit uncomfortable to read about, but the whole incident was very point-blank. The author didn't go into gory detail or linger over it. The book didn't carry a lasting negative feeling. I thought the book was actually somewhat uplifting, insightful and entertaining. It was an easy book to get through and digest. Most importantly it kept my attention. I wouldn't recommend this book to "sensitive" readers, however.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Snowboarding in the month of May
We got record snow here in GF. Around 26 inches I think. And this is MAY people. MAY! But, we were stoked to find out that the Great Divide resort was opening for one more day due to all the snow they received in the mountains. So we just had to do some historical May snowboarding.
Me and my friend Tamara
Me and my friend Tamara
After a VERY long day, we finally got to eat something besides chocolate covered cinnamon bears and nasty sulfur dioxified dried fruit. Here we are showing off our sunburns.
All that snow after it started to seem like spring kind of threw my body for a loop. Seriously, I felt like I needed to hibernate. And the feeling that winter wasn't over? It kind of depressed me. The weight of the heavy snow broke off tree branches and other stuff around town. Our Bishop's car port collapsed...on top of their van! So sad.
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