Radiant Tales: Chapter Twenty-Two

We stood together in a circle. Just my parents and Amber and me. And it was like going to Heaven.

I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want life change. Half of me wanted to just die right then and there so I wouldn’t ever have to leave that beautiful room. This was the kind of happiness that I have never felt anywhere in my life before. It was happiness because I knew I had made it. After reciting the Young Women’s theme in YW for the past six years, I finally reached my goal to make it there. I’m not married yet . . . we’ll leave that for some other time. But I knew I was where I had always dreamed of being. And I didn’t want to leave. That’s how much I loved it.

But we had to leave.

Two weeks later, I found myself standing in front of my roommates. I know of no words that can describe better how I feel about them than by the simple phrase, “I love them.” Since God cared about one little red-head in Provo, He gave her roommates He knew would care about her, too. Within one semester, He taught her more about the true meaning of charity, patience, sacrifice, love, kindness, and humility.

The day after I moved out, life changed again.

 And this time He taught me about true sisterhood, true love, and eternity. As I watched her hold his hand during pictures, my heart ached for the times she used to hold mine – yes, that place used to be mine. You know, the one right by her side? Sisters have a bond that may be wounded at times, but it can never actually be broken unless you let it. A bond as strong as ours is something I cherish. I watched her smile the happiest smiles I’ve seen in a long time. And if there is anyone who deserves that true happiness, it’s her.

 But I still miss her. I miss being able to jump on her bed early in the morning to wake her up for Christmas. I miss her quick sense of humor that always seemed to help me be less stressed. I miss playing duets with her and goofing off on the piano. I miss bursting into her room, phone in hand, and being able to read her my texts from the first boy I ever really loved. I miss driving around AF and moseying through Macey’s with an ice-cream cone in our hands. I miss sitting by her in Young Women’s and being her partner for . . . well, everything.

I hugged her for what seemed like eternity; a life-long relationship summed up in one moment. Too often I have found myself thinking back to our happiest memories – Disneyland, Scotland, summer picnics, ice skating, car driving, and, yes, even sitting across from her at dinnertime, and I find myself with tears running down my cheeks. In the words of a dear friend, “I no doubt deserve my enemies, but I don’t feel I deserve my friends.”

My best friend has moved on in life. And that’s alright. She’ll be back. Although, I guess she never really left. She only crossed another bridge, and someday, I’m sure our paths will cross again.

And who knows, it might be sooner than I expect.

 

 

 

Why We Shouldn't Be Afraid of Finals:

"Our Heavenly Father is aware of our needs and will help us as we call upon Him for assistance. I believe that no concern of ours is too small or insignificant. The Lord is in the details of our lives."
~President Monson.

Here's to the last week of College :) 

Bring it on.

The Final Count Up.

Yes, you did read that right. I am counting up :)

Counting up to so many things.
Happy things :)

Three more days of work.
Seven days till classes are over forever.
Seven days till I'm back with my family.
Eight days till my sister's happiest day of her life.
Eighteen days till Christmas.
Sixty one days till I leave for my mission.
And I'm guessing eight hundred and twenty five days till I get married.

:)

Just kidding. I don't know why I just wrote that.

But back to counting up.

It means that I'm looking at the days half full :) despite the burdens that might be upon your shoulders, to count up is to decide to be happy about the changes that are coming.

. . . even if they mean you are getting closer to leaving the people who matter most to you.

I guess that's why I believe in eternal families.

And the greatest happiness it yet to come.

I don't actually have a count-up for that. It's just going to come when Heavenly Father says it's right.

Until then, seven more days of classes.

I couldn't be happier.

Meet the Robinsons.

Unique.
Ridiculous.
Funny.
Wild.
Hungry.
Entertaining.
Loving.

Yes, we go together perfectly. I thank Heavenly Father for them every day. I have the best freshman older brothers in the whole wide world. Love 'em to death.

Merry Christmas :) 

"Nothing is as Constant as Change."

I had it all figured out, down to the very last year of my life.

It was simple, really, and I was quite proud of it. I was going to go to college for two years; intern at a hospital in a third world country; come back and study for another year; go on a mission; fall in love with a Gilbert Blithe; get married (not like I would be able to choose when I get married anyway, but I planned it, nonetheless); finish college; find a job; have six children; name one of them Léna (a very French name); and become a chubby grandma who makes cookies all day long. 

And I was happy with that. No one knew that that's what I amounted to be - a grandma who cooks cookies all day long, but everyone has their secret ambitions in life :) 

Despite this wonderful plan of mine, I was pretty sure that it would change. I knew Heavenly Father probably had something else in store for me. Something better.

But for right then, it was a plan, and I was going to follow it.

So I did.

Well, I got as far as the first step. Here I am at college in my first semester.

And yet, here I am, ready to change my plans.

In fact, they've already changed. One of the most exciting moments of my life happened in the past week :) And it's probably  the biggest change of my life. You see, it's like this:

Dear Sister Murdoch,

You are hereby called to serve as a missionary of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. You have been assigned to labor in the Canada, Montréal Mission.

!!!!!

Yes, I am ready to serve the Lord. Someone in Montréal is waiting to hear of hope. of happiness. of a Saviour who makes it possible for them to repent.

As I was reading my mission packet that tells all about the rules and standards for missionaries, as well as what to bring and what not to bring, I was overwhelmed with a feeling that's kind of hard to describe.

I have to give up everything.

Music. Jeans. Internet. Time. Money. Family. Friends. Cell Phone.
Everything.

Am I bitter? Not in the slightest.

I am ready.

I've come to the conclusion that if there is anything I'm not willing to give up for the Lord, then I must not love Him enough.

But I do. I love the Lord so much. I will willingly give up everything I have, including my time and my money, to serve Him. Thing is, how can I even begin to repay Him for what He has given me?

It's not just called sacrifice - it's a labor of love. Love of God more than love for what I want in life. And I know that if I put Him first, everything will fall into place.

A leap of faith? Yes.
But thankfully not in the dark. Heavenly Father has said: "Consider the lilies of the field how they grow; they toil not, neither do they spin; And yet, I say unto you, that even Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed like one of these. Wherefore, if God so clothe the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, even so will he clothe you, if ye are not of little faith.Therefore, take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, what shall we drink? or wherewithal shall we be clothed?
"For your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these have need of all these things. But seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you."

I woulndn't replace that moment when I read my name, "Dear Sister Murdoch," with any other moment in the whole world. I wouldn't replace the feeling when I looked around at my family and friends singing, "We'll Bring the World His Truth," with any feeling in the whole world.

And I wouldn't give up this opportunity for all the scholarships or job oppenings allotted to me.

I am ready to serve the Lord and the people in Montreal.

This is one change that will change the me for the rest of my life.

In Light of this New Week . . .

This week, I anticipate lots things.

This week I anticipate lots of homework.
No sleep.
Exams.
Late night laughs with Rachel. and Katie. and Hope. and Tasha. and Chelsea.
Temple trips that matter.
Frozen noses.
Rain.
Feeling sad about something.
Smiles.
Speed walking to class.
Late nights in the library.
A text about my mission call.
A phone call from my mom.
Late night piano songs in the HFAC.
Messy hair and T-shirts.
Laundry and dishes.
And perhaps one night I'll get five hours of sleep.

:)

And since I know my anticipations are quite similar to many others', I hope this poem will help you. Because despite the hard things that will inevitably come, it's important to take on the attitude of Elder Wirthlin. In the words of his mother, "Come what may, and love it."

You started the race with a confident pace,

And you waved to your dad with a smile on your face.
You were confident till you looked up ahead,
And the scene that you saw caused you to dread;
For out in the distance you could see the dark clouds,
And tears started to form as you whispered aloud,
"Dear Father in Heaven, help me to be
As steadfast and strong as thy Son was for me."
Then came the pains as you struggled to climb
The hills and the mountains that lengthened the time,
The rocks and the boulders that cluttered your way,
And caused you to trip and from the path stray.
The wind 'gainst your hair and the sweat on your face
Caused you to feel you were losing the race.
While you might think it too much for the pain that it cost,
As soon as you choose to give up, you've lost.
It matters the tears that you cry when it's tough,
But it matters much more that you never give up.
Although you may think that you're losing the race,
Or in order to win you must quicken your pace,
Remember the Saviour, who overcame all,
Is there with His hands when you start to fall.
It isn't the trials or mountains you face:
What matters the most is that you finish the race.
Go forward in life with a twinkle in your eye
And always remember God wants you to try.
Then press forward through life with a smile on your face,
And God will bless you to finish your race.

~Alissa Murdoch

Inspired from President Hinckley: "Go forward in life with a twinkle in your eye and a smile on your face . . . and God will bless you as you pursue your course."

Therefore, In light of this new week, let us remember to keep the perspective that things will be alright.

Come what may, and love it.

And there are officially 50 DAYS until Christmas :) HUZZAH.

Perspective.

One of the most discouraging parts of life must be when, no matter how hard you try, you just can't seem to succeed. No matter how late you stay up doing homework, writing that thesis statement, or making flashcards, you just can't get it.

A road block, a cliff, a giant wall: any word can be used to describe this pebble stone in your shoe, mostly because it just needs to be a word expressing that you are stuck. At the end. And at a loss. In a trial. In a predicament. In the dark.

You ask yourself, How am I supposed to succeed? I can't do better than my best, and clearly I'm not strong enough to break through this wall of steel. 

Don't believe that.

Ever.

All you need is to change your perspective. Yes, grades are important, and at some point you might need to be accepted into the Nursing Program or the Physics Program or whatever major you want to pursue.

Just remember one thing. Well, remember lots of things (like that chocolate helps a lot, the cup really is half full, the Saviour loves you, you can do it, all trials will give you experience and be for your good, etc.)

But be sure to remember this.

(And this is what makes me ridiculously happy all the time.)

:)

Remember that someday, you will have a best friend.

An eternal best friend. And they will love you more than anyone else in this world.

And you will go shopping for cereal together. You will laugh together over forgetting to put sugar in the cake or burning the toast. You'll do dishes together and drink hot chocolate together. You'll go on walks and bike rides and play tennis together because there's no one in the whole world who you'd rather spend your time with more than that wonderful bestest friend.

And you will be happy. Oh, so happy.

That's one of the things I look forward to most in this life. It keeps me going sometimes, in all honesty. And maybe that sounds a little weird, but it's all part of having an eternal perspective. Look at the long run. Look at who you are going to be. Look at your potential. Forget about that test you failed, and just do your best on writing that thesis statement, and endure work for just a little longer. Hold on, don't let go, and keep trying. It will work out. Heavenly Father promised it would.

So it will.

And in the meantime, a little chocolate along the way never hurt anyone :)

Chicken Little?

Yes, please.

The sky is, in fact, falling. Ah, the beauty of Autumn: gotta love those crunchy leaves and unpredictable projectiles.

The Army of Helaman.

They couldn't have been much older than my eighteen years, and they couldn't have known much more than I know. Besides having strong testimonies of the Saviour, they probably didn't know much about battle. Sure, they'd most likely heard stories and seen the awful conflicts, but never had they actually fought for their families, religion, and lives.

I feel like them sometimes, especially in relation to Heavenly Father's call to serve. I've never been on a mission before, but I've heard wonderful stories, and I've watched missionaries work miracles as instruments in the Lord's hands.

But I've never taken mission prep classes, let alone sat down and practiced teaching someone principles of the gospel.

. . . but then again, while I may not be able to teach the principles as well as I wish I could, I have something I can share better than anything else. And that is my testimony.

I can go to Chemistry and learn all about atomic theories; I can go to French class and learn about why you pronounce the "s" in tous for the sentence, "Je les ai tous mange" but not for the sentence, "Tous les bonbons sont petits"; I can go to American Heritage and learn about utilitarian views of society; and I can go to Nutrition to learn about the enzymes your body can synthesize.

And I could try to explain to you what I know about atoms, pronunciation, and enzymes, but I can guarantee there will be something I don't understand, and something I can't explain.

My testimony, however, is not a theory about atoms and molecules, or a structured method of pronunciation, or even a broad viewpoint of something.

Rather, my testimony is built from small experiences, small truths, and small words from the pages of the Book of Mormon. It is living: it grows. It is real: I can feel it. And it is special; it is precious.

It is my treasure. 

And like those 2000 young men in Helaman's Army, I have faith in God. I trust Him. And It's nice to know that while I have many weaknesses and shortcomings, He trusts me. And He helps me.

I picture thousands of young men and women running to find those who are wandering; those who feel hopeless; those who are lost. I imagine an army of youth going forth to share the good news of the Gospel. I picture them sharing their testimonies of the Saviour.

And I have been given the opportunity to be one of them. It's so wonderful to know that I am doing the right thing. Even when I don't know how to do it.

I will.

Even though I don't know how it will work out.

It will.

Should I be afraid? The world tells me yes, and the attacks and temptations of the devil definitely merit fear.

But the gospel is true, isn't it? Then what else matters?

So, soon I'll be like those stripling warriors. For now, I will not doubt. I'll go where He wants me to go. 

"Behold, I am a disciple of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. I have been called of him to declare his word among his people, that they might have everlasting life." 3 Nephi 5:23.

And I can't wait.

:)

love, a daughter of God.

Of Red Leaves and Happy Things.

I've decided I love autumn.

I love the beauty of the red speckled leaves; the crunch of the acorn shells under my shoes; and the colorful trees that can be spotted everywhere I look.

But I also love the concept of autumn: I love autumn because of what it means.

It means it's time for long sleeve shirts and fuzzy scarves, mittens and Scottish caps; it means hot chocolate and soup for dinner and warm blankets at night. It means General Conference was two weeks ago, and I get to go on a mission after Fall Semester. It means somebody asked me to Homecoming - one of the best autumn nights ever and definitely one of the best dates. It means I get to bring more grape juice to college because my family made 50 quarts of it. It means Thanksgiving is coming and this semester is halfway over. HUZZAH.

That's what Autumn means: it's more than just red leaves and hot chocolate.

It's warmth. Hearth. Thanksgiving. Blessings. Tender mercies. and Love.

Warmth because of my fuzzy socks.
Hearth because the thought of my mother and my home bring happy tears to my eyes.
Thanksgiving because that means there will be no school for three days!!!
Blessings because President Monson challenged us to count them - large and small.
Tender mercies because Heavenly Father cares about me, and his tender mercies come no matter what day or season it is.

And lastly,
It means love. Love because everything is evidence of God's love for me. Even if it's a trial.

and lets be honest . . . it's also kind of fun to be in love ")

Love, Sunny

Zucchini Bread

The kitchen counter was filled with vegetables - tomatoes, peas, green beans, and zucchini. Unfortunately, the zucchini had been forgotten, and as a result had exceeded the regular length, width, and depth of a regularly grown zucchini.

Dad and I just smiled.

"The best thing we can do with this," he said, "is to make it into zucchini bread."

And so we did.

I cut the zucchini and then sliced it with the food processor while he got the batter ready. Sometimes he would ask me about ingredients, but mostly, being the amazing amateur cook that he is :), he would just add the ingredients and toss in a little extra of this and a little extra of that.

It was some of the best zucchini bread I've ever eaten.

Tonight, my roommate Rachel and I made zucchini bread. And I couldn't help but remember that evening when dad and I shredded tons of overgrown zucchini and made loaves and loaves of bread. It's not the biggest memory in the world - in fact, it rests with the majority of my memories: the small ones that build up and keep me going during the week.

I remember when mom took me to get a smoothie after a really hard day of senior year. I remember when Amanda and Melanie left me notes on the days that I needed them most. I remember when Amanda snuck up on mom and scared her really bad, and when Melanie sang to the song "Guard Him, Joseph" as I played it during Christmastime last year. I remember when Spencer jumped on the tramp with me, and the days when we used to play Ghost in the Graveyard. A lot of times I would win because he was scared of coming to find me :) I remember when John and I rode up to Deerfield and when he decided to, on Christmas Eve, make up a story about Mickey Mouse stealing peaches. I remember when Amber and I went on a walk in the rain - in our Sunday skirts and under her umbrella. We tried not to look at the dead worms on the sidewalk, and we loved the leaves whose colors seemed more vibrant after that storm. I remember when she and I laughed over my biology homework, and when she let me sleep next to her because Santa was coming and we were going to wait for him.

I remember that night when thunder shook the house and the rain pounded against the windows , as if intending to scare me out of my bedroom . . .  which it did. I was the first one on mom and dad's bed, and all of my siblings came to join me :) That was one of the best storms I've ever endured, mostly because it didn't seem as scary when I had the people I loved sitting right there beside me.

Zucchini bread just represents the little things, I guess. It's a memory in physical and edible form - and one that I intend to keep alive every time I make it.

So, thanks to the best family in the world; the ones who make zucchini bread worth making.

Love, Alissa.

O French Exam, O French Exam . . .

Did I just make up a verb on my French exam?

Yes, yes I did.


:)

Your heart will lead you home.

I feel like I have three homes: 

One I left behind, yet it still has a special place in my heart.

One I currently live in, and despite how much I love it, there isn't a John or a Melanie to come hug me, or an Amanda to laugh with, or a Spencer to joke around with, and there isn't a mom or a dad to sit and talk to.

And the other home? . . . well, it's always been there. Even though it's not visible, it's tangible. It's real. And it's a comforting, constant, and welcoming place that I can go any time I need to.

But sometimes I just really miss the home I left behind.

Why? 

Well, my conclusion is this: after spending so much of my life loving something that was constant, something reassuring, something that made me who I am, it's always going to be something I love. I guess from time to time, it's okay to miss it and find something new to love. It's just that nothing will ever replace it.

So here I am, at my new home - a little bit sad but learning to be optimistic. :)

"My God hath been my support; he hath led me through mine afflictions . . . He hath filled me with his love .  . . He hath heard my cry by day . . . and mine eyes have beheld great things . . .

"O then, if I have seen so great things, if the Lord in his condescension unto the children of men hath visited men in so much mercy, why should my heart weep and my soul linger in the valley of sorrow, and my flesh waste away, and my strength slacken because of mine afflictions? . . .

"Rejoice, O my heart, and cry unto the Lord and say: O Lord, I will praise thee forever; yea, my soul will rejoice in thee, my God, and the rock of my salvation."

My heart is leading me home. Which home you ask? Well, maybe it's all three.

"Look, little current bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be . . .

". . . and someday, little current bush, when you are laden with fruit, you're gonna say, 'Thank you Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down; for loving me enough to hurt me.' All of us can meet God's high expectations. However great or small our capacity and talent may be, let us pray for his love inspired correction."

-Elder Christofferson.

The parable of the Current Bush.

Today.

Today, I went to the Temple with my FHE brothers, who are arguably the best freshmen boys in the whole world.

Today, I thought of how much I love my family.

. . . and how much I miss them.

. . . And how much life changes.

And I came to the conclusion that the most difficult changes in life are the ones you know are coming your way. Knowing in advance how different life will be because of these changes just makes them a little harder to confront. Plus, because I know about them, I have the agency to do whatever I can to stop them. But since I trust that everything will work out, I don't try to stop them. I let them come. And that's the hardest part. Then again, that doesn't mean they're bad changes. In fact, they could be the best ones yet. It's just hard to accept the fact that life changes. . . constantly. I try to be brave, I really do. And I try to go on even when life is changing. It's all about faith, and as Anne puts it, "The sun will go on rising whether I fail in geometry or not."

Today, I fell asleep in the library while I was typing on the computer. I'm sure the boy sitting next to me was surprised to see my head suddenly drop to the keyboard.

Today, somebody special texted me when he saw me walk out of the library. Then he wished me a good day :)

Today, my mom told me she loved me and wanted to take me to lunch on Thursday. Oh, it was a great day after that.

Today in my nutrition class, I dropped a peanut down my shirt, and everyone behind me watched as I tried to figure out how on earth to get it out of there.

Today, I ate two pieces of my mom's homemade bread, and it was divine. :)

Today, I walked up the stairs to my dorm thinking about how important it is to be optimistic, and that despite the fact the world tells you to not be, you can be. Don't be discouraged, I told myself.

But it's alright because the only thing I need to worry about is today. Today is sufficient - don't worry about tomorrow because, as President Monson said, we need to "Seek heavenly guidance one day at a time."

So, how am I today?

Well, in the words of my dear friend, I'm having the best day of my life :)

. . . until tomorrow.

:)

Love, Sunshine.

Miracles.

They happen.

I guess I could go into detail about how I passed my very first essay, have an increased ability to remember taco recipes for work, or even explain how I got seven and a half hours of sleep last night.

But mostly, I just want to let you know something.

Miracles are the same things as tender mercies. I think, anyways. And something I've learned about tender mercies revolves around the belief that they come when I am trying my best. Usually, when I get to the end of my rope, it means I've done my best. When I'm really tired and my feet hurt, usually it means I've done my best. And usually, when tender mercies come, it's Heavenly Father filling in the gap between my best and the rest.

And that's what God is all about - helping you accomplish those things that make life hard. It's like standing on your tiptoes but not being quite tall enough to reach that glass bowl for your cereal; it's like getting to the checkout stand and having all the cash you need except for twenty five cents; and it's definitely the feeling of being that one girl out of all her roommates who hasn't been asked on a date.

But that's why I believe in God - and his son, Jesus Christ.

Why do I believe in them? Because it's like having a roommate pick up a chair for you and help you not fall off while you reach to the top shelf; it's like having the cashier pull twenty five cents out of the tip cup and let you use it; and it's the feeling you have when you get a phone call from the boy who means a lot to you, and tells you that you are perfect the way you are; and it's even like getting a text from your best friend who tells you she loves you.

I believe in God and Jesus Christ because of what they have done for me. You know, miracles are miracles for a reason.

God is a God of miracles.

Nothing is impossible to Him.

He helps you reach what you cannot reach; He helps you when you've run out of your supply of spirituality, happiness, or even money; and He helps you feel important when you feel like you don't matter.

And so, I believe in miracles.

And I'm here to tell you that some time soon, you will be able to reach that bowl; you will have a renewed supply of happiness, spirituality; you will hear and find little messages that remind you He loves you.

And you will see miracles.

Because they happen.

Love, Sunshine

"If life and its rushed pace and many stresses have made it difficult for you to feel like rejoicing . . .

. . . then perhaps now is a good time to refocus on what matters most."

Dieter F. Uchtdorf.

Radiant Tales: Chapter Twenty-One

1. A stomach nourished with a bowl of yummy Cheerios (a serving size, mind you) at 7:20am will last me about to the BNSN building, and then I'm hungry again.

2. Yes, you can freeze in the library. But I'll have you know that I have located the best wall on campus - it's a natural heater. Oh baby -  you should probably go lay on it sometime.

3. Blessing my food takes on a completely different meaning now: "Dear Heavenly Father, I am so thankful for this food. Please bless it to hold me through Chemistry and keep me awake in Nutrition class."

4. Ward prayer is very unique.

5. The college scripture of the day is this: 

"I cried unto the Lord with my voice, and he heard me out of his holy hill (aka BYU).

"I laid me down and slept; I awaked; for the Lord sustained me. (aka when you have to go to bed late, He'll help you wake up.)

"I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people" (aka yes, there are lots of students here, but God knows you individually).

. . . "Salvation belongeth unto the Lord."

I flipped to that on my way to my French class. And it made me smile.

:)

6. I really miss my family - it's a heartache that I've never completely experienced it before. Oh, I miss them.

7. I'm still learning so much. I learn more about myself every day. Like the fact that it's possible to have fun and study at the same time. And I'm learning the ability to balance homework and fun, something I wish I'd mastered in HS. And I'm still learning to take the days one at a time.

And hey, Yippee Skippee!!! It's almost Sunday.

Love, Alissa

The HBLL.

And no, that is not a swear word. It's the name of the library - The Harold B Lee Library, thank you very much.

Drum roll please:

Did I legitimately fall asleep in the HBLL for the first time?

Yes, yes I did.

Be Still, My Soul.

Be still, my soul: The Lord is on thy side;

With patience bear thy cross of grief or pain.

Leave to thy God to order and provide;

In every change he faithful will remain.

Be still, my soul: Thy best, thy heav'nly Friend

Thru thorny ways leads to a joyful end.

Sometimes.

I have a confession.

Actually, I have lots of confessions. Some of them are funny, like how I don't know what to think about being visited by boys . . .

Some of them are weird, like how sometimes I crave cereal at eleven thirty at night, but don't eat any because there may not be much left for breakfast the next morning.

And some of them are just silly, like that I don't understand the concept of Facebook, despite how convenient it seems. I just don't get it.

Some of my confessions may interest certain people more than others, as in the fact that it's kinda fun to be around boys all day :) and some will leave absolutely no impression on anyone except those who can sympathize with me that there is really, truly, nothing like a hug from your mom or your dad.

Sometimes, I miss it. I miss the dog pushing my head off my pillow at night. I miss the side walk drawings with Melanie and the let's-poke-Amanda-moments. I miss the little 8 year-old children who taught me how to be thoughtful and always remember the simplicity of the gospel and who would only sing loud when I would.

I miss the garden that always had to be weeded and watered and picked and picked and picked; the apple tree that never produced much of anything; the rose bush - the one nobody knew about besides those of us who were ever blessed to weed back there.

I miss grandma's house with the roses lining the driveway. As a little girl, I used to smell every single one, just to find which had the most fragrant aroma. I miss Pine Valley, the porch and the swing set, yes, the blue one that is nearly fifty years old (probably).

Sometimes, I miss the pink walls and the wall paper that always made me smile, as well as the green curtains and the carpet that never really looked clean - even when it was. I miss the piano - the polishing and the playing. Nothing can really ever replace the lovely vitality in that piano. Oh, how I miss my music.

I miss the Temple - the 4:30am trips and the young women outings. I miss Sister Neb. And Amy. And all my girls. A lot. Sometimes I get a lump in my throat just thinking about them.

Sometimes, I even miss high school - dear old AF High where everything could go right and wrong in the same day - from AP French quizzes to English reading.

I miss the dinner bell, you know, the one that mom or John rings when it's 5:30 and dad gets home?  I miss the bar stools and being able to sit down and watch mom make my birthday cake or the lasagna or bottle peaches. I miss my mom.

I miss sitting by my dad in the computer room, asking him about what to do when this pops up or how to plug the speakers in, or why in the World can't I be as cool as him? I miss his "good mornings" and "good night Alissa"'s. Nothing can really ever take the place of a good night from your dad. I miss my dad.

I miss Spencer's sweet muscles (even though I am jealous that I don't have any), as well as his quirky sense of humor. I miss Amanda's talent of always making me laugh, even when I don't want to and even when my mouth is sore. I miss Melanie's hugs and messages on the white boards. And I miss John's little smile and his long ramblings and stories about who knows what. I especially miss when he would ask me to "Please, oh, please, be my prisoner."  :) Now I would gladly say yes.

Sometimes, I'm happy to be here - excited and pleased. And sometimes, I'm just having one of those moments where "not even my imagination can solve my anxiety" (Anne of Green Gables Quote).

Sometimes, I guess, it's just hard. And that's all I have to say: it's hard.

"O Lord, my heart is . . . sorrowful; wilt thou comfort my soul in Christ. O Lord, wilt thou grant unto me that I may have strength, that I may suffer with patience these afflictins which shall come upon me . . .

"And the Lord provided for them, that they should hunger not, neither should they thirst; yea, and he also gave them strength, that they should suffer no manner of afflictions, save it were swallowed up in the joy of Christ. Now this was according to the prayer of Alma; and this because he prayed in faith." Alma 31: 31,38.

What exactly is "the joy of Christ"? Well, lets just put it this way.

He knows how you feel. And that's the joy of Christ - that you always have a friend to help you make it through the ups and the downs.

In the meantime, it's okay to cry, because sometimes "it's through our tears that we find a better way."

Love, Sunshine

Chances of Survival are Dwindling in the Single Digits Now!

I feel like I'm about to fight a dragon, and I'm not quite tall enough.

. . . even if it is a Toothless dragon . . .

It's a dragon, nonetheless.

Ah.

The Book that Changes My Life

I've read about him before.

He's one of my heroes.

But I've come to see him in a different way. Not because I'm like him; just because that's what happens when Heavenly Father answers my prayers. I see things a different way.

Today I read about Abinadi. Courageous, faithful Abinadi. (Mosiah 11-18).

He loved the Lord and he understood the importance of the gospel. He tried to teach the people, but they cast him out and threatened him. And when they caught him the next time he returned, they took him to the king because they "sought to take away his life."

He must have been so afraid. Did he ever wonder why he had been asked to go teach a people whose "eyes were blinded" and who "hardened their hearts against his words"? Even if he did, even if he did ask God why he had been called to that city just to be taken and killed, even if he questioned, he didn't back down - in fact, he didn't even back down when he was told to take back his words. If he didn't recall all he had said, they would kill him.

But he knew of something more valuable than life itself.

And so he stood and taught them about the Saviour - how He "comfort[s] his people" and was "wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed."

And they didn't listen.

No one listened. Except one. Alma, the one who heard and believed, stood up and pleaded for Abinadi's life. He saw the example of one who stood up for what was right, so he decided he would stand up, too.

Because of Abinadi, one believed. One listened and changed his life.

Was it worth the faith, the trials, the heart ache, the rude words, the fear, and eventually his death? Was it worth it for him to stay strong and follow the Lord?

Yes.

I once heard that courage isn't the absence of fear but the ability to act while facing fear. Abinadi had courage.

Because of Abinadi's courage, one person carried on his legacy of faith and endurance. Oh, how Abinadi must have felt when he saw Alma stand up for him. How he must have thanked God for that moment.

But then Alma fled for his own life, and Abinadi was taken, bound, and suffered death by fire, "having sealed his testimony with his blood."

I realized that if Abinadi hadn't had the courage to stand and, in the power of the Lord, tell the soldiers to "Touch me not . . . for I have not delivered the message which the Lord sent me to deliver," if he hadn't said this, Alma would have never heard all he needed to hear. Alma used Abinadi's words to teach the people - and if Abinadi hadn't had the courage to stand and rebuke the wicked men, so many people would have continued to be lost in a world of confusion and darkness. With Abinadi's teachings, Alma taught 204 people how find hope and happiness. These people escaped bondage and came over to the land of Mosiah, being a great strength to his kindom. Later, Alma's son also became an instrument in God's hand, and his friends taught thousands of the Lamanites about the Saviour and Heavenly Father. These Lamanites had sons - the 2000 stripling warriors, who fought in the strength of the Lord and said that "if they did not doubt, God would deliver them."

I couldn't help comparing Abinadi to Joseph Smith. The parallels are amazing. Beacause of Joseph's faith and endurance, over 14 million people have been blessed.

All this because of the strength of one.

And then, I related the lives of these two men to the life of our Saviour.

He was despised and rejected of men.

He testified of the truth.

He didn't back down.

And He didn't give up in the face of danger because He knew of something more valuable to Him than life itself.

That something was You.

You matter more to Him than life. You are so important to Him that He listens to you when you pray. He watches you and keeps you safe.

You can live because He died.

All this because of the love of one.

One man in 147 B.C., one in 33 A.D., and one in 1830 A.D.

And here I am.

Because of one.

I love the Book of Mormon. It's another tool - another "one" - that changes my life.

Love, Sunshine

A Legacy.

Wee Granny - Mary Murray Murdoch - joined the Church in Scotland when she was 67. Having lost her husband, John, in a mining accident where he went back to rescue a fellow co-worker, she was a widow and had to carry many of the burdens of mortality on her own small shoulders.

Her son, John, joined the Church and left with his wife and family in 1852. He worked hard for four years and sent Mary the money she would need to come to join them in Salt Lake City. With faith and hope much greater than her four feet eleven inches,  she began the trek to Utah when she was 73 years old.

She came across the plains in the Martin Handcart Company. Her determination, though, was never dimmed, despite her weak body. I can only imagine how it must have been for her to come by herself to the United States, tired and aching for her family and husband. How she must have relied on the strength of the Saviour. I love her for her example.

Wee Granny made it as far as Chimney Rock, Nebraska. Her fatigued body could take no more of the hardships she had endured. As she looked into the eyes of her friends she said, "Tell John I died with my face toward Zion." And with that, she died, leaving behind her a legacy of faith and endurance.

Because of her faith and detemination, and I am sure because of her example to her children who eventually came across to join the Saints, I have the gospel in my life. I am reminded of the Hymn "Come, Come Ye Saints."

Come, Come Ye Saints. No toil, nor labor fear, but with joy wend your way.

Though hard to you this journey may appear, grace shall be as your day.

Tis better far for us to strive our useless cares from us to drive.

Do this and joy your hearts will swell.

All is well! All is well!

Why should we mourn or think our lot is hard? Tis not so - all is right!

Why should we think to earn a great reward if we now shun the fight?

Gurd up your loins, fresh courage take! Our God will never us forsake.

And soon we'll have these words to tell.

All is well! All is well!

The song goes on to tell how, even if we die, or if we are again spared, all will still be well because of what the Saviour has done. As President Monson said, "The future is as bright as your faith." Even in the darkest of circumstances, whether crossing the plains in winter, or crossing college campus to take a chemistry final, truly, all is well because of the Saviour. He stands by each of us every step of the way, whether you pull a handcart or carry a backpack. I am so grateful for my pioneer heritage. And even if you don't have pioneer ancestors who came across the plains, you still have a legacy.

In fact, the greatest legacy of your life starts with you.

May we all learn from the lessons and people of the past.

Thank you, Wee Granny.

Love,

Sunshine

Faith.

One breath at a time is how I breathe.

One step at a time is how I walk.

One day at a time is how I live.

One month until I move into college is how I count.

And I will find joy in the journey as I go.

It's just a little hard to find the faith to step.

Picture taken by Chloe M.

Love,

Sunny

4000 Bolts of Fabric on the Wall . . .

 The end. And welcome to my job. ")

The Little Things.

I suppose some of the most memorable memories deal with times that really played with our emotions.

For example.

Remember that one time you laughed so hard you wet your pants?

The time you meant to say something extraordinarily witty but you spit on his/her face instead?

Or perhaps it was a boy you really liked, but he decided he liked somebody else more than you, so you commenced debating if you still liked him.

There are even those memories that seldom take their place anywhere but your heart.

:) Those are arguably the best kind.

And then there are the memories that get placed gently on your shelf in the form of teddy bears and dolls, corsages and dried flowers from your grandmothers funeral. Little things that remind you of places you visited, people you met, birthdays you celebrated, and Christmases you enjoyed. The saddest part about these wonderful little memories, these wonderful little things, is packing them into brown boxes, sealing them with tape, and placing them in the storage pile.

Thank you, Chloe :)

My shelves are empty, my walls are pictureless, the closest is depleated of stuffed animals, and there are two piles in my room. One is for college.

The other?

For putting away the little things that mean so much to me. I know I should be excited about starting a new adventure, but there's something about having to pack away all the little things - the animals I used to hug and the dolls I used to dress up, the glass figures I used to collect and the bouncy balls I used to name - and place them in boxes, not to be taken with me on my next adventure.

While something like this may seem a trivial thing to be sad about, and while no one may ever understand my individual sorrows, no matter how small, one always does.

And the best part is?

They matter to him, too.


Love, Sunshine.

Oh, Gil? He's just a Chum!

Bikerides to the canyon with someone super special?

Yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes yes

please.

Love, Sunshine

Temple Surprises and Sugar Cookie Bars

Today, someone might say, was an ordinary Sunday. A shower was taken, hair was blown dry, skirts were put on, and breakfast was eaten.

But for me, it started a new beginning of Sundays. Sundays without Young Women's, Sunday School, or Relief Society.Yes, my friends. I am a teacher.

A Primary Teacher.

. . . and not a very good one at that. But all the same, today it was reaffirmed that Primary is where I'm meant to be.

I told my class (which was extremely tired of listening after having already been through two full hours of doing just that) that if they could be quiet, I had a surprise for them after class. All of a sudden, Marissa sat up in her chair; Caleb grinned from ear to ear, and Joslyn wanted to know if she could eat it.

No, I replied. It's not edible. But it is so big I couldn't bring it to class with me!

Oh, they all said. Everyone folded their arms in wait for the surprise.

As soon as I finished the lesson, I told them to stand up, hold hands, and close their eyes. Together with Sister Hoopes and Sister Halls, we led the six children outside towards the Temple.

I'll never forget the way they all smiled when I told them to open their eyes and look up. There, in front of their eyes, was the prettiest building in all American Fork. (Arguably the most beautiful one in all of Utah.) We sat on the grass and they listened as I explained why I brought them here. Marissa then raised her hand and wanted to know if each of them could share what they love about the Temple.

Yes, I replied. Please, teach me about the Temple!

You see, I told myself. Life takes on a deeper meaning when you can look through the eyes of a child. Oh how much you can learn.

Their answers ranged from "I love the pictures of the moon" to "I love the angel." And my all time favorite from our little six year old visitor, "I love that you can get married there." Her response was particularly touching because she told me earlier of how "I don't have a daddy." Silently I prayed that she would come to know, as I do, that someday she will see him again. Families, you see, can be together forever.

After they all taught me about how much they loved the Temple, I met one of my Laurel advisers in the Library. She jokingly said, "Are you glad you're out of Laurels?" and waved a platter of sugar cookie bars in front of me.

After it dawned on me what she was saying, I quickly replied that, No, I've never missed it more in my life!

Sweet memories of starbursts and t-shirt Tye dying flew back to my memory. I remembered campfire moments where marshmallows were scorched and friendships were forged; Sundays when only five of us were Laurels; nights when homework was meant to be done, but put aside because someone needed help with hers; activities where we raced to make the best cake or clean the most houses.

I've never missed it more. I figured they'd forgotten about me, considering I hadn't received a text about activities in over a month or been to class in over one and a half.

So thanks for the Sugar Cookie Bar. I really did need it :)

Someday I'll be used to going to Relief Society. Someday I'll have to be released from my calling in Primary. That won't happen for awhile though. Until then, Temple walks and sugar cookie bars?

yes, please.

Radiant Tales: Chapter Twenty.

Where do you stand? I was once asked.
She didn't mean literally. She just wanted to know where my place in the graduation line was.

But I still thought about it.
Hmmm. Where do I stand?

Well, let me tell you.

I once stood for the first time, probably holding onto my mother's fingers.
Once, I stood on my father's feet, grasping his knees and telling him not to go to work today.
I stood, crying and afraid, at the doors of my kindergarten class, not quite sure what would happen.

I once stood at the doors of an airplane, not knowing what my new life would hold.
I stood on the shore of the Isle of Lewis, the banks of Loch Ness, the grounds of the Preston Temple.
I stood at my sister's dorm, hugging and telling her, though she couldn't hear, I didn't want her to go.

And I once stood at the doors of American Fork High School.
I stood at Mrs. Westover's door, worried at the prospect of taking Honors English.
I stood in Orchestra, watching Mrs. Smith wave her baton over my head.
I stood in Miss Shelley's room, her quote drawing me to her class.
I stood at Madame's desk, listening to her encouraging words of defying the world.

And soon, I will stand, in front of my family, my friends, and people I don't even know.
And I will walk.
And leave behind all those places I once stood. Ready for adventure and new places to go.

With shakey knees and watery eyes.
With sweaty palms and stubby fingers.
With every inch that I have grown.

Where will I go?

Well, forward of course.
No matter how shakey, sweaty, or short I am

:)

No matter what people tell me - that I can't study Nursing and French at the same time . . . I will.
That I can't find a job on campus . . . I will.
That I can't earn money to travel the world . . . I will.
That I can't live in Paris or go on a mission . . . I will.

Because that's what standing does. It means I have goals. Plans. Desires. Determination. Faith. Hope.

A purpose.

So.

Here I stand.

Terrified yet excited.
Sad yet happy.
Inadequate yet Ready.
Shaking. Yet Standing.

And This is Why I Speak Francais

1. Madame McFarland is awesome.
2. My family can't understand me.
3. I can have whole conversations with Silas Olsen while he speaks spanish
4. It means I'm going to Paris someday.
5. Because Chloe Mehr checked out Les Miserables for me and it. was. Heaven.
almost.

But mostly, I speak French because somehow, that's how it worked out.

I keep thinking back to that one defining moment in my life where I would be a different person if I hadn't made that choice or walked that direction, or been called to do this or that.

I seem to have pinpointed it to a couple of events.

One of them is French Class.

If my family hadn't moved to Scotland,

If French hadn't been the only language option at Wallace High School,

If my counselor at AFJH hadn't had faith in me that I could take French 2,

If I had stuck with Spanish,

My life would be significantly different.

Et un jour, j'habiterai en France.

Anne Shirley. Anne with an "e."

There are lots of lessons I learn in life. Lots. In fact, that's probably what life is all about:

Sunday lessons on Missionary work; primary lessons on letting my Light shine; math lessons on integrals; EMS lessons on saving lives; english lessons on Crime and Punishment; and I even learn French lessons on Rhinoceroses.

:)

From time to time, and, for the most part, I enjoy them. It may be painful to read eighty pages a night in Crime and Punishment, and I may have hated that book up until page 506, but the lessons I learned about love and sacrifice and God and choices are irreplaceable. Like it or not, I learned something from a book about an ax murderer and a woman who sacrificed her moral beliefs for her family.

But time and time again, I learn that, despite the lessons I learn about academic and spiritual aspects of life, one of the most beatuful lessons to learn is that of love.

While this topic has many interpretations, I would like to tell you about one of my interpretations. Yes, I know that God loves me, and I know that my Saviour died because he loves me, for "Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends," and I know that my parent's love me beyond anything I can understand now. But the love I am about to share with you happens to be a snippet of my philosophy on love, taken from none other than my childhood hero.

And so, my friends, today my name is Anne Shirley.

Anne with an "E," that is.

. . . Or, maybe you should call me Cordelia. :)

Many wonderful lessons I learn from Anne. Things like, "Tomorrow is always fresh with no mistakes in it." and that, when speaking of being rich, "I think I would probably come to the conclusion that I'd like it for a while... but in the end, I'd still prefer the sound of the wind in the firs across the brook more than the tinkling of crystal."

But one of the best things she taught me was a lesson or two about love. It might be in the way that she sticks up her nose whenever Gil winks at her, and it might be in the way he rescued her whilst she was "fishing for laketrout," but whenever it was, she has taught me that it's fun to have love in life, and that I should never be stubborn or hold grudges. For as Aunt Josephine says, "Make a little room in your plans for romance again, Anne, girl. All the degrees and scholarships in the world can't make up for the lack of it."

:)

Alright, my experience with true love is really quite limited. I, however, feel that, at this point in my life, love is just the little occurences that make my heart sprout wings. In Anne's life, love is in Gil's mischievous and enchanting smile, and his quirky yet sincere attitude; it's in the loyalty he shows to Anne, even when she gets upset or says something silly.

Someday, I will have a Gil. And we will be best friends. Chums to be exact :)

Maybe he's out there on Prince Edward Island, waiting to walk to the pond with me, or maybe he's hoping I'll come by his house tonight and show him the story I wrote. Or maybe he'll come to mine :)

Yes, if there's anything I've learned about love it's that, even if he calls me Carrots, or says I'm too short so he didn't ask me to dance, or maybe if he just doesn't notice me anymore,

love

is meant to be a part of the lessons of life.

Anne: Don't you ever imagine things differently from what they are?
Marilla: No.
Anne: Oh Marilla, how much you miss.

NOT funny.

The second worst thing about being a senior girl in the last FIVE :) weeks of school is that your seminary teachers want to take dibs on how soon you'll be married after you graduate.

Ha.

And perhaps the worst thing about being a senior girl in the last five weeks of school is that the seminary boys in a certain group of seminary students also take dibs on how soon you'll be married after you graduate.

I've been afraid to go to BYU ever since I decided to stop being afraid to go to BYU. At first I was afraid that if I didn't go to BYU, I'd never get married. Then I decided that was a silly idea, so I got over it (this conclusion of mine had nothing to do with my decision to go there, by the way).  Then I realised that, let's be honest, you could write a novel on BYU PDA. It's just weird and it will never be me. EVER.

. . . This is kind of a strange post . . .

But to all those boys whom I dearly love,

here is what I have to say:

"You just wait till you get off your mission. Then you'll understand why all of us girls are afraid of RM's. You. Just. Wait."

And in the mean time, it's not funny.

:)

But I still love you.