Mom visited!

K, so a brief update: My baby is crawling! It is crazy! At first he was doing this thing where he would put his two hands in front of him and then scooch everything after them. But then he started to move his legs one after the other. He is doing it! A little more coordination and we will have a terror on our hands!

My mom came to visit and I have to say, my son adored her. He is turning into such a flirt. Anyway, she loved him and he loved her. She only could stay a brief time, and so we did a lot in a short time. She helped me shop and we introduced her to homemade sushi. She liked it. We had to improvise a little bit with cooked salmon and span, though, because she did not like the idea of raw meat. I also showed her my favorite pistols at a store we were visiting for my husband's sake (obsessed with fishing). That was pretty cool. She is actually a fast learner! She caught on fast and the guys at the counter spent some time explaining things to us.

I also had to brag about some of the changes I'm making around here. So I've been changing the way we eat things. I'm totally on a health kick right now. We are throwing out most processed food and sugary foods. I'm baking our bread with sprouted wheat (I hope to learn other sprouted wheat recipes). I'm making kifer, and putting in it our daily smoothie (which I think I have almost perfect now). We are also trying to buy more organic products and eating dairy and meat in more moderation. So, naturally, we are eating more fruits and vegetables. Its been great.

The weird thing is, I haven't lost any weight and my husband has. But I think I have started to slip out of my pants. This whole thing isn't to loose weight, but to be healthy. However, I thought that loosing wight would be a natural consequence. Maybe I shouldn't be surprised since I've maintained the same weight (besides pregnancy, of course) since high school. And I have been through just a few changes. I mean, I don't know how, but 2 weeks after delivery I was down to my pre-pregnancy weight, though I did NOT look like it. I still lost a lot of water "weight" but no weight. Weird, huh?

Anyway, I am super stoked about trying to be healthy. And I am excited to see where this takes me and my family. I mean, I already refuse to buy baby food, but blend it up myself. I feel like I have way more control about the quality of food my baby is getting.

Back to Mom. It was wonderful having her and we look forward to seeing her again at our place. We hope the stay is longer next time. It was really hard to see her go.

Catch Up

I've done this too many times where I just have "blog binges" and then don't write for a long time.

I just need to catch up. For a while there, I didn't even have internet to blog with, so that was a challenge. And then I was at my parents. And then I was busy moving in.

So now, I guess I can get the big events down and move on with my life! haha

K, so, after my son was born, we moved to Menan, just a few minutes from school. My husband looked every day for a job. He was gone a lot of the time job-searching and I was trying to take care of myself and my baby. You see, I was having grey-outs and felt like I was going to faint all the time. It wasn't fun. But I couldn't really ask anyone for help, because I didn't know when I was going to feel that way. (The only thing I could do was make lots of doctor appointments, take test after test, wear monitors, more tests...sigh.)  Anyway, I was also trying to get organized in that home.

While in Menan, we made a few friends. There was this particular lady and her family who we bonded easily with. She was awesome and was obliged to teach me some new skills: canning fish, making sprout-wheat bread, storing food, etc. I loved that family. They were models.

Then we accepted a job. We would have to move. So I tried to pack up our house as quick as I could while my husband went and found us a place. Then when he came back we saw each other for an afternoon and he took me to the airport. I flew out to be with my Mom for the rest of the holiday season, while he moved us. This way, our baby wouldn't have to endure a hard drive, I would feel taken care of, and he would be able to focus on his new job until he met us at my mom's place.

So we missed each other a lot, but we felt it was the best thing.

While I was visiting home, my mom and I got to spend a lot of time together and she got to know my son better. I really thought that was special. Then my sister and her family arrived. It got even more fun and busy. I think my son enjoyed watching his cousins, but he was scared at first...those boys are loud! Then he got used to the noise. And my sister just loved my son and he really loved her. She could make him smile whenever they crossed paths. It was SO cute. She could get him to giggle out of control!

 Both my sister and I talked about how my Dad's absence was terribly felt and how there was a different feeling in our home. He was really missed. At least, the way things used to be. The person he was...

Then my husband and my other sister arrived and we got to enjoy the rest of the time we spent there with almost everyone. We saw my Dad here and there, and he came for family pictures, but we didn't get to spend Christmas with him. That was pretty depressing, to be honest.

On the bright side, we saw our son get excited about Christmas for the first time! I think it was all the colors and the excitement. It was so cute to watch him practically hyperventilate and reach for the new toys.  Then he would immediately stuff them in his mouth and gnaw on them. I seriously wondered if he was teething very early.

Before I move on from my home town, I do want to touch on one thing briefly. I was touched by some of the kindness I witnessed. Ward members and friends were aware of what was going on in our family. While some were not very sensitive, others were. My best friend's (in high school) mother and I had been in contact because I had kind of asked her to be a friend to my mom before I had got there.  Anyway, she came by the house and "kidnapped" my mom and they had a good talk. Then she and I got together. I thought this was just the sweetest thing. We went to the Cheese Cake Factory and she treated me. She and I talked and though she did want to hear about how my mom was doing, she specifically asked me how I was doing. Though disappointed, sad, frustrated, maybe a little angry, for the most part, at that time, I felt ok. I was more concerned about my mom. But she asked! She cared enough to take me out on a little date and make sure I was ok. I just have to say, she is still one of my heroes. Just goes to show that God lets some people into our lives to help us. We are never alone.

After Christmas, we went to our new home and I have been busy trying to set things up ever since. It is a fun little place, though it isn't so little to us. Its the biggest place we have ever been in. Maybe bigger than the three bedroom trailer we were in before. But it is old and a little funky. We have a random wood cupboard in our shower. We have to wrap the curtain around it to keep it from getting wet. I haven't been able to get our washing machine to work just right. But it works well enough. I've sewn and hemmed lots of curtains. We found a couch and crib on Craig's List. We also got a good deal on a table and chairs.

We have also already been somewhat involved in our ward. We've been invited to dinner a few times, we are having a mother and daughter over tonight, we had the missionaries over, we've taken a meal over to a family in need, I've played the piano a few times in the Primary, today we gave talks, and today I played for the ward choir and helped instruct some warm-ups.

So its been good!

And my husband's work is coming together too. He is having to make a lot of adjustments and learn some things, but it is coming along.

Little update

Well, a quick update (I hope).

We have moved! We found a trailer with three rooms for a great deal, so we took it. Everything seemed to fall into place and my husband is convinced that we are here for a reason.

My son is a chunk! He eats a whopping 6 oz (that is, if he doesn't fall asleep first..haha). It is crazy, but I can assure you we are just following his cues. I even bought slow flowing nipples to help get the "I'm full" signal to the brain before he consumes too much.

He is also the sweetest little guy. We try to respond to him as much as possible at this young, sensitive age. But we have noticed that he has started to learn to comfort himself. He'll cry, but if we are not fast enough he may just start to complain. (It can go either direction though. If we are not fast enough he may start into hysterics too).

He has the SWEETEST smile. He has started to smile at us. Really. There is not question sometimes that he is smiling at us. He is responsive and his smile is part of his whole body. It wriggles and he almost laughs already!

Anyway, we are so in love with him. He is our little buddy. More on that later.

NICU

Well, try to my character this one is late and I'm still trying to catch up!

I'll try to make this one short.

A few days after we brought our baby home he developed a high fever. We were really concerned because it seemed as if this was the second time he had had one (the first one was at night and didn't last long). This time he was really upset and it was heart-breaking for us to see him that way. My husband gave him yet another blessing and then we rushed off to the ER.

Unfortunately, the ER was a terrible experience. After we arrived and the doctor was visiting with us, our baby no longer had a fever and he was not crying hysterically like when we left home. We believe this was due to his blessing. But the doctor was not convinced. He was skeptical of our story (which was a little frustrating...but we were positive about what we had witnessed: we had used three different thermometers correctly under the armpit to be sure). But, he assured us that fevers were not to be messed around with in a newborn.

So, right then and there he ordered some tests be done. This was very hard for us as new parents. The nurses in the ER (as wonderful as they are) were not experienced in dealing with little tiny veins. Or little tiny anything for that matter! They were terrible at drawing a blood sample. It was heart-breaking to see them prick our precious little guy over and over again. At one point, they completely missed the mark and the needle went in one way and out the other in his little hand. I was emotionally distraught and I could tell that my husband was getting upset with them. We were about to demand that someone from upstairs should be called down to do it.

When the pediatrician that was called in arrived, he told us our baby should be admitted to the NICU and put on antibiotics until the test results showed up. But we couldn't delay because the tests took days and it was not worth the risk to wait.  I did not like putting our little guy on antibiotics at such a young age, but realized it probably was the best choice.

My husband stayed with him while I went home to get medication and pack our bags--we intented to stay with our little son as much as we could.

And we did. The next week or so, we stayed in the NICU in the "contamination" room because they did not whatever our baby had to spread to the other infants. So this worked to our advantage! We could stay with him the whole time. The hospital took really good care of us. They gave me a meals and let me use a breast pump. And the nurses were amazing! They answered our questions and gave us cool parenting tips.

Aside from the worry, probably the worst part of the NICU was the fact that the nearest bathroom was actually outside the labor and delivery unit. So every time I had to go (which seemed to still be often) I had to waddle down the hall with my bag of tricks. It hurt. But maybe it was actually to my benefit in the healing process to do a little exercise like that.

We had some cool experiences while there. For one, we got to observe the monitors while coupling what they said to our son's behavior. I think we got to know him in a way that few parents do. We also took the sacrament in the NICU. It was one of our better spiritual experiences together.

Funny how challenging experiences will bring us closer together. We were tired and stressed. But we learned there that we love each other more than we did before. I got to know my husband in a way I hadn't before. Through the experience I learned that he is willing to do things for me that I thought I would never ask of someone.  He is an amazing patriarch of our family that has fulfilled so many roles. I also re-learned that Christ can offer us amazing comfort that we do not understand. Through our trial we had help from family, ward members, and the power of the priesthood. We felt so privileged to be blessed the way we were. We are Never Alone because one way or another, God fulfills our needs--weather it be through other people or uncanny circumstances.

Delivery

So, of course, again, I haven't written in a long while! Obviously, some big changes have occurred. My husband and I graduated from college, had a baby, and are now trying to figure our lives out for the next year.

Our son was born August 6th and weighed 9lbs 10oz. He surprised everyone! The nurses who were with us in the labor and delivery room were estimating he would weigh around 7lbs. Boy oh Boy!

I'd like to say that everything ran smoothly, but that was not the case. I was hoping for a natural birth and had practiced different exercises to prepare myself. I thought I had done my research and was pretty prepared for what might happen. I realized that a there were certain things that might happen where a natural birth might be impeding. Going into it I wasn't so extreme as to think that absolutely under no circumstances was I going to accept an epidural, but I was quite determined to go natural.

Well, one night around 2:00 a.m., I woke up (I have no idea how...) and discovered I was all wet. Immediately I thought, "My water broke!" I nudged my husband and told him I was all wet. He was like, "Seriously? Now?" Earlier we had joked that it would be our luck that my water would break in the middle of the night. We were both thinking that it would have been much more convenient if my water had broken during daylight hours.

Well, while I was cleaning up in the bathroom I was getting excited. This was it! My husband came in after calling my mom who was staying next door. He slyly commented, "Well, happy anniversary..." Ha! I had forgotten! This was also something we had joked about happening to us. Well, such is our luck :)

We ran to the hospital to find out that my bag of waters apparently hadn't broken. The nurse suggested there might have been a leak instead and suggested we see our doctor first thing in the morning. So, a little disappointed (but relieved to sleep a little more) we returned home. Following the nurse's advice we made a visit to the doctors office the next morning.

It was a little hard to explain why exactly we were there, but after some time, they put us in a room where I got hooked up to some monitors to measure the baby's heart rate and my contractions. I was amazed to find out that I was having contractions close together! I couldn't even feel them. But when the doctor came to look at the results he pointed out something I had not been looking for: the baby was experiencing decelerations. (This is where the contractions are actually affecting the baby's heart rate.) The doctor made an executive decision right then and there. The baby was overdue (by three days), and could possibly be in distress if we let this go on much further. The baby had to come out. Now. He told us that we needed him to make the "safe landing" and to trust him.

To be honest, I was a little skeptical, but at the same time I did trust him. In our experience with each other I had agreed with him on most points during my pregnancy and I knew how long he had been practicing (and our area, as you can imagine, deals with a lot of pregnancies and deliveries per year). I did trust him enough to agree with him. For the safety of the baby, we had to consent to induction.

I was not fond of the idea because I knew that induction could lead to a harder labor. But at last we agreed that most importantly, we wanted a healthy baby. We trusted the doctor to "land the plane" safely. So, we rushed (Literally. The doctor instructed my mom to get our "hospital" bags for us instead of letting us go home to get  them ourselves.) to the hospital's labor and delivery unit. He told us he would meet us in a few minutes.

As we were driving to the hospital I was thinking over what had happened and what was going to happen. This was not going my way. The doctor had orders for me to have internal monitors so he could get more accurate readings. I didn't like the idea because I knew that I would not be able to help my body through labor the way I planned. I wanted to use a birthing ball, possibly get in a warm bath, try different holds and positions. Internal monitors were definitely a hindrance. I was thinking about objecting to the doctor's approach...

But then, most importantly, I had a very distinct impression enter my soul. Yes, it pierced my heart. The thought entered my mind as clear as any command that I was not to let my pride get in the way of this delivery. Of course! I wanted it my way. But maybe my way was not best in this circumstance. I had to sigh and concede. I knew that God was speaking to me, and I needed to listen.

When he did arrive, he broke my bag of waters and told us that he would only add Pitocin if my body didn't have strong enough contractions. I really wanted to avoid this as well because I knew that Pitocin would do the job, but definitely make it harder for me. Luckily, my body did just fine with contractions. It naturally set to work. At first, I still couldn't feel them. But then they intensified. I tried the breathing techniques I had practiced. And they made a HUGE difference. But then it was clear to me, that I did not want to lay down anymore. After some careful maneuvering around wires and the help of a nurse, we got a birthing ball ON my bed that I could lean on. I was limited to what I could actually do with it, but I found that a kneeling position where I could stretch out my torso by leaning with my arms on the ball suited me just fine.

I was in pain, but dealing with this well. I even talked to my dad on the phone while I was in labor! (In between contractions, of course. He had to wait patiently on the phone a few times while I did my breathing technique.) My mom even got me a scented candle to help "overwhelm" (?) the senses. And I listened to soothing music on my phone.

As things progressed I could still feel that I wasn't able to help my body the way I wanted to. So I started to consider an epidural. Why? I could tell I was running out of energy fast. And I knew I needed to conserve energy to push. I tried my hardest to only let the contractions use energy and not concentrate on the pain. Really, I think I was coping well, but I had this feeling that something needed to change.

Again, it came down to my pride. I decided to wait for the nurse to check on me again and tell me how far along we were progressing. After she did, I had to make a judgement call. I prayed. I analyzed. I wanted to do it my way, but I had the feeling that I needed the epidural. Bah! I wrestled with it, but then in my mind it was clear that was what was appropriate for me at this time.

I was lucky in that the lady with the equipment was already on the floor. It only took her five minutes to come in with everything she needed. It only took another five to ten minutes to administer it, and strangely, it took no time at all to take effect. The only thing that I had been dreading was that I knew I was going to have to lay down again and contractions at this point were coming fast and they were much harder to cope with laying down then in my kneeling position. But again, I was blessed because after they laid me down for the allotted time, I didn't feel anything. I was still able to point my toes and even move my legs, but I did not feel the contractions in the least bit.

Lavbor progressed smoothly after that. They suggested I take a nap to conserve energy, and after our adventures that morning, I was happy to oblige. My husband even bunkered down to sleep as well. He slept through all the nurses coming in to check on me and the beeping equipment. He was so out, I remember I was actually afraid he wouldn't wake up when it was time to push. Indeed, he didn't get up till the doctor had been there some time.

When nurses and doctor decided all was ready for me to push, again they detected decelerations. (We later found out that the umbilical chord had been wrapped around my son's neck. That would explain a few things....) So to keep the baby safe (I guess the decelerations weren't bad enough for a cesarian section, but I noticed the doctor closely watching the monitors just in case), the doctor encouraged me to push hard and fast. In our case, the more time we took, the more dangerous for the baby. So, I pushed as hard as I could. I remember trying to focus on the right muscles and giving it everything. The hardest part was trying not to interrupt my pushes to catch my breath.

Well, whatever I was doing was good, but not good enough. I'm not exactly sure how it panned out, but because the baby was big and I was small, I really should have gotten a C-section. But I had already pushed the baby far enough that it was too late. The doctor first tried to use a vacuum, but after four failed attempts he resorted to forceps. I gave him the "OK." I was really hoping not to have to resort to forceps, but I knew that my particular clinic was trained exceptionally well with them. They knew how to use them correctly without hurting the baby. And they didn't hurt the baby all that much. He only suffered a small bruise.

I'm the one that suffered the consequences. Apparently, baby was so big, and I was so small, and we were running out of time, the doctor had to use considerable force on me. I wasn't aware of it at the time because I was just concentrating on pushing so much, but my husband and mom affirm that the doctor was literally lifting me off the bed by the forceps while I pushed. Wow. (I'm not criticizing my doctor because I fully trusted him, I'm just...wow...). Long story long (haha), the baby came out just fine and safe (save a bit of fluid that had to come out) and I ended up getting an episiotomy (that must have happened really fast because I don't remember seeing anything of the kind, and I hadn't forbidden one or consented to one...I think our doctor was just intent on "landing the plane" for us as safe as possible), tearing up and down, I got fourth degree lacerations, and I tore through rectal muscle. One nurse told me it was as if I had torn and gotten a C-section. Clearly, at least in my case, a C-section might have been better. For now, I am still sitting on a doughnut and taking it easy.

But that isn't even the most exciting part about the delivery. The most encouraging words that I heard during the delivery were pronounced by my husband. When I was pushing (it was really hard!) my husband was encouraging me, and then when the baby crowned and started to show, my husband said, "He's here! He's here!" I was so excited and exhausted I was overcome with emotion and the will to try harder. When he was finally out and some fluid removed, he was placed on my chest. Of course he was crying, but it was the most beautiful sound I had ever heard! And he was gorgeous! He was so beautiful! My mom (probably overcome with emotion from seeing her baby go through so much) and I were both in tears. The amazing moment was when he looked up at me and stopped crying. It was love at first sight. He was being rubbed off (they let me help) and then they took him from me to clean him up.

I had instructed my husband to follow the baby wherever they took him. So he got to assist in giving our son his first bath! I was glad. They didn't even take him from my sight. I got to watch the whole thing while I was being stitched up.

Being stitched up was also a scary experience (Mostly for those who were watching. I was too excited to see my son, and I obviously couldn't exactly see what was going on down there). I remember watching the nurses clean up my son from the bed through a gap of nurses. I can't even tell you how many nurses there were in the room, but the doctor was insisting he needed an additional person to assist him. It was nuts. There were four deliveries going on at the same time and all the available nurses were being used, but he was still desperate for one more. One nurse came in the room to tell him he was needed elsewhere and he told her she needed to stay (I think she even came from C-section). Someone else came in asking for a piece of equipment and he told them they would have to wait. But seriously I had at least six people surrounding my bedside and they all had grim faces. My doctor was shaking his head as he tried to stitch me up. Nurses were holding this or that.

I noticed that my blood pressure was still being monitored, but instead of being taken intermittently, it was taken continuously. I have to explain that I absolutely HATE those things. After being hooked up to one of those all day, I so ready to be done with it. And it was so obnoxious! You have to understand when my blood pressure is being taken I have to concentrate on breathing because otherwise I tense up and hold my breathe. I knew that would not be wise right now. So I asked the nurse nearest me if we could just take that thing off. She obviously said no, adding that I was bleeding heavily. That shut me up. I apologized to her if I had "snapped" at her. She told me I hadn't, and if I had I would be well deserving of the privilege.

A little later into the process, I started to feel the stitching. It probably wasn't as bad as it would have been if I had never had an epidural, but it was still painful enough to bring me to tears. I told the nurses (who were not exactly listening to me because they were so occupied with their task), who brought it to the doctor's attention. They asked if I was feeling pulls or an actual acute pain. It was the latter, and I had to stifle my tears to get the words out. They quickly administered more pain killers.

It took the doctor at least an hour to finish. The nurses were shaking their heads telling me I was not allowed to have anymore big babies. And rightfully so: they were slipping in my blood and quite stressed. My room was a beehive of activity. When the doctor was done, he told me that though he was needed elsewhere, he wanted to assure me he had taken his time. I fully believed him. He had remained calm through the whole thing, but had had to stand his ground against other pressing obligations to finish stitching me up. I appreciated him more than ever.

He did stay even longer because my heart rate started to increase quite dramatically (My husband was surprised to learn that the beeping that registered from the monitor was not the baby's heart rate.). He studied the monitor then studied me. At that moment, the nurse had given me my son and was trying to help me breastfeed. I was occupied with the task and sitting up (and I was in heaven with my son in my arms!). Everyone was dumbfounded because the monitors were calling for a blood transfusion, but I was alert. The doctor and the nurses conferred for a minute. They actually took my son from my arms and made me lie down to see if that would make a difference. It must have done the trick because my heartbeat slowed down (it was still fast, but close enough to normal). It was only then that the doctor left me to the care of a nurse.

She had the toughest job of cleaning me up, taking me to recovery, helping me shower and go to the bathroom, and showing me how to care for myself. It was the messiest job. I was sorry that she would be assigned such a task for me. But she was a life saver! I told her I was sorry she had to care for me that way, and she again affirmed to me that I had not had a normal delivery. This usually didn't happen.

During a little down time, my husband asked me if I would like a blessing. I was so exhausted and I was feeling rather sick. I was even light-headed, but I didn't tell anyone. My mom was so worried! And she was solemn. I think I really gave her a scare. She later told me that she thought my color was terrible. She also had seen my feet and told me that they had been the same color as her father's before he had died. No wonder she was so sombre! My husband gave me the second blessing of the day (He later told me he had given me a silent blessing during the delivery.), promising me that I would make a full recovery. It was very comforting at the time. So much had happened and was happening.

The next little while in the hospital was agonizing. And I felt SO fatigued. I was able to stand and walk for short periods, but I felt that at any moment I was going to loose it. It was amazing to me that I somehow found the energy to hold my son. And we were in good spirits. I was trying to make a conscious effort to make the nurse's job easier for her while still getting my needs fulfilled.  I felt sad that I could not rise from my bed to care for my son, but grateful that my husband and mom were so on top of things. I never doubted that my son was in good hands.

After another day at the hospital I felt well enough to go home. I had been checked out by our doctor again and my son had been checked out by the pediatrician twice. We were so excited to take our son home and not be disturbed by nurses coming in and out all night and day. I felt at home I could actually get some rest and recover.

I am very convinced that God's hand had been in it. I had been warned about what kind of choices I should make, I felt very blessed to have a very experienced doctor (who I felt was my friend) caring for me, I had more energy than I should have, my son was healthy, and we really grew closer as a family. We also have a strengthened testimony of the priesthood power. Truly we witnessed miracles and blessings. We are Never Alone.

Baby Update

I am now 24 weeks pregnant!

We have had two ultrasounds now and with each one nothing harmful or abnormal has been detected. I already think our baby is just so darn cute! Also, each ultrasound has revealed that our baby may be more developed then 24 weeks. Its more like we are a week or so ahead.
Also this month, I've read that our baby will double his weight. I believe it! For the longest time I did not seem to show, but then in the last few weeks, he just popped out of nowhere! (Oh, btw, its a boy!) I have a little round belly now. And what a kicker! He just is so active and strong. I have a silly fear that he is going to be one of those boys that I will have to chase around all the time! haha

So far we haven't bought any baby things, but I have made a hooded bath towel for him and am in the process of making his blessing outfit (if everything goes well...). I've been doing "research" on car seats and haven't gotten around to much else, though I have a pretty solid list of things we are going to need. I showed my husband and he was left wondering what we needed all that stuff for! haha. "Why do we need this?....Oh..." I told him a baby would be expensive!

To be honest, I think we are both scared and excited. We are excited to see just who will be the next member of our little family, but intimidated by the overwhelming responsibility. But, at the same time, though I am inexperienced I feel somewhat prepared from all my child development classes. But time will only tell how those have benefited me. Facts aren't everything.

Being my second trimester, I am feeling much better. Just little things bother me here and there, but nothing big. I just hope I can keep breathing until my senior recital!

Collegiate Events

This past semester Collegiate was once again invited to sing with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir in Music and the Spoken word. We were also invited to sing at the President's Club banquet in Salt Lake. Also, we participated in the sacred music tour. We also held a high school invitational where we invited four or so different high schools to participate in workshops and sing in concert with us. It was a big semester!

I'll try to keep it brief...High school invitationals are always fun because youth are so fun (or bratty--it seems like you always get one or the other. haha)! I enjoyed talking with them and telling them about the college and music program. Also singing with them and hearing them sing was a wonderful occasion. Perhaps the high-light of the whole thing was after the concert I happened to run into the conductor of one of the choirs. This particular choir had been AMAZING! They really reminded me of my own high school choir back at home. I mean, they were good! So, I told him that he did an excellent job with his choir and that he should be proud of his work with them. He looked very familiar to me, but I thought that was only because he had a face that resembled someone else I knew. But then he told me he recognized me too...After a while we figured out that he had been my bus driver when I took the church history trip I had taken back in high school! Wow! I had been one of 30 or so teenagers on his bus years ago, and he remembered me. I then realized that I did not recognize him because it appeared he had lost some weight. He did really look different. I am still blown away that it is such a small world!

Now the sacred music tour project was once again successful. This is a production that the university does  every two years. They ask a composer years in advance to compose an orotorio. Then the combined choirs usually go on a short tour and perform the whole thing with the orchestra. It has been a beautiful experience in the past. This time was no different. Except for the fact that I had trouble standing for so long being pregnant. In one of our dress rehearsals in the I-center we were doing a full run through for the cameras so they had editing material if something went wrong the night of the performance. I actually felt like I had to sit down or I was going to faint! That is a new thing for me. But I waited until I felt the cameras were pointed some place else and then sat down. It was just a little frightening. But I was just fine for all the other performances.

We ended up touring in the tabernacle on temple square. We had a full audience and Elder Ballard came! He was probably in the best seat of the house--right in the middle. After the performance as the women were filling into the tunnels, it was announced that he was in the tunnel conversing with some of the girls. The tunnel was so clogged, so I did not get to see him, but apparently he told us that we did a wonderful job and thank you. Then he rode away in a golf cart. I thought it was so sweet that though it was the end of the day and he must have been tired, he still took the time to congratulate us.

Singing at the President's Club Banquet is always a pleasure for me. Again, President Eyring was there with his wife, son, and his wife. While we sang, I was touched with how President Eyring made sure he got to see every single face. He was so engaged and attentive to what we were singing. I am not used to SUCH a captive audience! It was very sweet and humbling. As always, I felt the spirit when we walked in the room.

Apostles and prophets are people just like you and I. They are human and have human personalities. But they definitely wear the mantel of their calling. It shows.

Singing with the Mormon Tabernacle Choir was also a pleasure. We were able to sing a few numbers with them and a few of our own. Here we were, undergraduates, and we got to sing with one of the best choirs in the world! Again, I was amazed at the lightness of their voices and how well they blended! Amazing. They were very complimentary of us, telling us how we sang better or just as well as other choirs that came to sing with them. They commented on our intonation and power. It was very nice of them. They were also very chatty and genuinely seemed interested in our places of origin. They also were so kind and had prepared a basket of cookies for us to eat. So sweet!

After the performance I had the opportunity to meet with my uncle and grandma. It again seemed weird that Grandpa was not with us. We had a few hours to chat and take pictures. Though we didn't really get to DO anything I was grateful because I have hardly ever had one-on-one time with my Grandma. When making Salt Lake visits I have usually been with family members, and now, a spouse!

So that is it in a nutshell! It is sad to realize this has been my last semester in collegiate (next semester I have to take a class during the collegiate class time)! I am going to miss it very much. Collegiate has been a family away from family--full of fun laughter, support, and many opportunities to develop a stronger testimony. During my time in the choir I have been able to form bonds and friendships that would not have been made otherwise. I also would not have learned so much about music! I am going to miss it very much.

But even though I will not be in it next semester, I know I am still part of the collegiate "family." Truly, I am Never Alone!

Example of Fatih

Wow, I seriously have so much to catch up on! I first want to talk about the passing of my grandpa. This was, I think, the fifth funeral I attended, but each time I go, I feel like the person I am going for is closer to me. I loved my great-grandparents and my grandma on my dad's side (heaven knows I still think about her and miss her), but growing up I was able to see the grandpa on my mother's side the more.

For me (and everyone else), it happened so suddenly. So suddenly I didn't really have time to think about it or pay him a visit like I wanted to until I was there in Salt Lake. I think I came to really understand what a funeral was about. I needed closure. It didn't seem real.

When we arrived there we were swept up in the bustle of things. Family members were arriving, I thought my mom and I could go maternity clothes shopping since we didn't get to around Christmas time, I was struggling a little bit with morning sickness, and my sisters and I wanted to help Grandma out. You know, a lot of the time it seemed like Grandpa must have still been in the house. I obviously knew the occasion of our visit, but I kept thinking that Grandpa was downstairs in his room like he usually was on our visits. It was strange to realize he wasn't there, and I couldn't look forward to him being in this house again.

I thought the funeral service and viewing as a whole was wonderful. The grandchildren sang, the children sang, there were wonderful talks given about Grandpa. The funeral home treated us all very well. The dinner provided to us was delicious. The whole atmosphere was one in which we were grieving a loss because we would all miss Grandpa, but we were happy he was in a better place and happy to be together as a family. I remember sitting in the pews with my husband and the grandchildren were playing with one of my nephews. They were giggling and adoring the little guy. My husband leaned over and told me how Grandpa would probably be very happy to see that right now. That was what this life is all about--family. And what a wonderful posterity he has!

I was quite a bit emotional during the viewing. One sweet old man approached me and told me how he will never forget how he and his family had moved into the ward and Grandpa had so warmly welcomed them into the ward. I said something about how that sounded a lot like Grandpa and then teared up. The poor guy realized he made me cry and quickly hurried away. I felt bad I had made him feel guilty because I really did appreciate hearing that story about my grandpa. He really was a wonderful example to all.

I kept noticing teachings of my grandpa that were passed down to me during his life sketch. My mother would tell us the same things growing up. Like "the truth always comes out." As a child this helped me be honest. As I grew older this saying helped me understand that my good works would have their reward in the end--no need for public recognition. As an adult, this saying helps me be more diligent in a world whose morals are quickly deteriorating.

Grandpa also used to say, " what good is the old stock if the new stock isn't any better?" Mom would use this principle in her own parenting. She would tell us how well we were doing in different aspects of our lives and tell us she was doing her job since she was being "outdone." I still believe she is no where close to being "outdone." She is still a shining example to me. But she seemed to think that because we were excelling in areas in our development better than she was, she was on the right track. I am so grateful for her sacrifice and for Grandpa's teachings in this matter. They are an inspiration to me in my own goals as a future (very soon!) parent.

It was also joked about how Grandpa loved sweets. I definitely inherited this trait. At times I do (though not so secretly) stalk up on sweet snacks!  He also passed down his love of the outdoors to me. He just enjoyed being outside. I am also one of those people that just enjoy a good walk.

Anyway, the list goes on. I am grateful to grandpa for being the kind of person I can look up to emulate in my own family. He was always so generous and loving towards people. I have always admired his acts of service and learned to love to serve those around me as he did. I have been blessed to be so supported in by family members. In this way, I know I am Never Alone.

First Baby!

Its about time I actually posted about current events. This is a big one! I'm pregnant! 14 weeks to be precise. I don't mind sharing how this came to be because it is nothing short of a miracle (in my mind at least).

We had thought about the possibility of trying for a baby for sometime, but it didn't seem right.  Then last summer I calculated that we could probably have a baby before I graduate and before my big senior recital--that is, if we got pregnant right away. Otherwise, it seemed it would be too late. I think that is when I had a chemical pregnancy. So nothing came of that and we were short on time. So we didn't try the next month. It was important to us that we get our degrees. We knew that they would benefit our family in more than just monetary value.

Then I didn't feel completely right about our decision to wait. I can't explain the feeling, but I've had those kinds of feelings before, and I recognized the source. I knew that if we tried again, we would ultimately risk my degree of choice since we probably weren't going to stick around just for me to finish my last few classes. I would still graduate with A degree, but not necessarily the one I wanted. But God was speaking to me. I had to obey. I told my husband about it, and so we started to try again.

Five months went by. Nothing happened. I was beginning to feel concerned. This was supposed to be the most fertile time of my life, right? Were we supposed to try to get pregnant just so I could find out something was wrong with me so we could get pregnant at a later date? For all I knew (yes, I was thinking dramatically...) this was all so I could go see a doctor and find out I had cancer or something that needed to be taken care of.

The next month we conceived. I was really relieved...and excited! I did the math and figured out that we would have the baby right after we were scheduled to graduate. Wow. It was perfect.

I can't help but think that during this time my faith was being tested. This pregnancy could have messed with my whole degree plan. Four years of hard work! But we moved forward in faith despite all that because of a very special prompting. It was one of those moments where I echo Joseph Smith: "I knew it, and I knew that God knew it." Then because of our faith, we were rewarded tremendously. The timing couldn't have been better.

So yes, I'm experiencing morning sickness, and all kinds of other symptoms. I won't bore everyone with the list. I think that my morning sickness is getting better, though I'm still really frustrated with food in general and my "turbulent tummy." I really want to be done with this stage...

Yes, its been challenging to balance my new physical needs with school. I've only stayed home from school a couple of times. Mostly, I've been able to attend all my classes and get my assignments done. Pregnancy really creates a new time restraint because now I'm limited in the amount of time I'm still ticking. I have to find time to take naps during the day. I've been able to achieve straight A's the last few semesters, but I think I've come to accept that this semester may be different. I don't like the thought, but I like the thought of having a healthy baby more.

The exciting thing is that we've been able to witness one ultrasound and listen to the heartbeat. Both times they said the heartbeat was were it should be. In the ultrasound, at 10 weeks, we saw the baby moving around like crazy! My husband says he or she was just dancing around. It really did look like out baby was a pretty serious break-dancer (hah j/k)!  I've been reading that sometimes an active baby means a healthy baby. They also said that our baby appeared to be about four days ahead of schedule, but it wasn't anything to get too excited about. I'm under the impression that our baby will come around the expected due date anyway. Also, I am measuring "perfect."

Ok, so funny story: The first time we went in for an appointment, the scale in the office matched our scale at home. Then over the course of a month, I started to notice that it looked like I was loosing weight. I knew that some women did loose weight in the first trimester due to morning sickness, but I was eating regularly and I wasn't throwing up all that often. I thought maybe this was due to a change in diet, since there were certain foods I just couldn't seem to eat anymore. I started to get concerned when I "lost" around ten pounds. At my next appointment I had gained a couple pounds. Relief! That's about where I needed to be. Not too much, not to little at this point. It seems our scale had slowly broken. It is off by ten pounds!

In any case, it seems that we are doing really well. We are busy with school, but healthy. We are very excited and terrified to be parents. I read everything I can get my hands on. I feel very humbled that God made things turn out "just right" the way he did. It is yet another testimony to me that we are Never Alone!

My Sould is Not Meant to be Sacrificed

So, it's obviously been a LONG time since I've blogged last. But at the request of my mother (she always knows how to get me to do things...) I decided to do this one for her.

For those of you that don't know, in high school I was in the habit of putting quotes all over my room. I mean, my room was FILLED with them. Literally, from the ceiling to the floor I had quotes from the scriptures, general authority quotes, inspirational handouts, etc posted everywhere. Well, when I graduated and left for college, my mother took a quiet moment (I guess she missed me or something like that), went into my room and sat on my bed. Taking it in, she leaned back. Lying down, she noticed directly above her I had posted a quote on the ceiling. It caught her attention because it was so curious. It read, "My soul is not meant to be sacrificed."

Out of perplexity she inquired after it. I told her just what it meant, and she asked me to write about it. So here we are.

I guess I should preface this with a little story. One summer I had the amazing opportunity to take a church history trip around the country. I'm sure most of you have heard me talk about this before. I got on a bus full of kids and make a loop around the country in three weeks. We stopped at almost all the significant church history sites. On this trip, our director  created as much of a spiritual setting as he could. He required we obey certain rules. We could only listen to church appropriate music, we were not to be romantically involved with anyone, we were to pray together over meals, as we embarked on journeys, and especially at sacred sites. There was a devotional everyday, and every night we had a group study. And we stuck to a very tight schedule so we could make it to all the sites. All these rules were similar to mission rules!

In this environment, we were asked to record our feelings and impressions at each site. I really wanted to have a good, spiritual experience so I remember that at each stop I prayed earnestly that I would receive meaningful impressions. I'm convinced I did. "My soul is not meant to be sacrificed," was one of them.

It has a two-fold meaning. The first requires a basic understanding of what a soul is. In D&C 88:15 we read, "And the spirit and the body are the soul of man." To me this explains that everything we are--our mental capacities, our physical abilities, our spirit, our emotions--comprises our soul. Our soul is not complete without every little piece coming together in the end.

This is why the resurrection is so important! It is as if our soul is literally rent in twain at death: our body is separated from our spirit. For a brief time, our soul is lost. At the resurrection, our soul and perfect (This is a guarantee!) body are reunited--thus completing out soul. With me so far? Good. But this is not all. It is not all said and done here.

What if our spirit is not perfect? There is no guarantee on this one. What if it is tainted with sin? What if "our hearts have been hardened, yea, if we have hardened our hearts against the word, insomuch that it has not been found in us"(Alma 12:13)? Then we suffer what is known as a "spiritual death." In Alma 12:16, we learn that a spiritual death is a  death, "as to things pertaining unto righteousness." With the loss of our spirit (not necessarily our spirit body, but our spirituality) our soul is then compromised--lost--this time forever.

This is not meant to be. My soul is not meant to be sacrificed for lust, worldly goods, pride, or shame. Our souls are not meant to be set aside to be "lovers of [our] own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, highminded, [and] lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God" (2 Timothy 3:2-4). My soul is meant to aspire to become something much more. Eventually, it was meant to be made perfect. It was not meant to be sacrificed for these vain things.

The second meaning o f this phrase is a little more self-centered. I'm the kind of person that can't stand idly by and see loved ones fall to pieces. I just can't do it! So time and time again, I feel like I have to save the world. It's not always healthy. And...I'm a bit of a perfectionist. If something is "supposed to" be a certain way, and it isn't, it tends to drive me absolutely bonkers! Where is justice?!? So, on the flip side, I am also meant to take care of my temporal needs. My physical, emotional, and mental health are a part of my soul too. They are also not meant to be sacrificed for things that aren't really worth my efforts. So I have to decide, is it really a wise choice to be invested in this? It is the never ending quest for balance (Which is another topic for another day).

So there you have it. Despite the long explanation, it is pretty simple enough. Hope that was helpful! I know that we are meant to reach a very high potential. If we keep the end goal in mind it will be that much easier to choose good choices in the here and now. After all, we are really Never Alone in our endeavors. We will receive help from the other side, and our efforts will not be in vain. If we go the other direction and sacrifice what is really important, than those efforts will be in vain.  Remember, your soul is not mean to be sacrificed.

Collegiate Trip

This post is really late, but I still feel I need to express my gratitude for what I got to experience when the collegiate choir got to tour the Midwest over this past break.
Here are a few numbers: Over the course of three weeks we got to tour in 9 states, perform in 35 performances, and we performed for a total of 5,600 people (roughly).
The experience was amazing. I haven't been on a mission and probably will not until my husband and I are older, so this was an opportunity I took seriously. Besides, it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. When will I ever get to tour around on a bus with a group full of wonderful singers and perform for public audiences and also do firesides? Not very likely.
Sadly, a lot of our trip consisted of driving. If you have never been to the Midwest, I need to inform you it is very flat, boring, and there are long stretches between the towns. We just had to be in so many places in such a short period of time! Luckily, we did get to do some recreational activities at rest stops (throw a frisbee, stretch, skip around) and some fun things along the way. We got to stop at Mount Rushmore and look around for a while, as well as explore a children's museum (I am of the opinion that they are great for kid's hands on experience). We also saw Lake Superior briefly and stopped at Wall Drug. (For those of you who don't know, it was an old station where people could stop for free ice water and service. Now they still give you free ice water but there is a restaurant and an abundance of shops. You would think you were in a mini shopping center! There are also some fun activities. The whole place is like an amusement park, just without the rides.)
The rest of the time we were singing! We went to high schools and colleges to do exchanges. This was especially fun because we could see what other schools were doing. We got to expand our horizons and take note of what pieces we liked, what techniques we liked, etc. At one university they had us dance to our music to internalize the rhythms and beats. The idea was to get our whole bodies involved in our singing. It was very interesting.
We also held concerts and firesides. In my opinion, these were the the best moments ever! Our concerts and our firesides were dedicated to the sharing of the gospel. We really, genuinely wanted the people to hear our message. I remember being so exhausted from the days events, that I had to muster up a lot of energy to get through the concert. Yet somehow I found strength. These experiences were tiny, little miracles. We had so many opportunities fall right into our laps. After concerts we practically rushed the audiences. We wanted to talk with them and share our testimonies! We wanted them to know that we really were out there for them. All semester long we had been planning this for THEM! So they could feel that much closer to the truth. Statistically speaking, it takes a non-member several times to hear about the church before they will actually stop and listen to what it is all about. I just was excited that maybe we were just one of those numbers. We were bringing people that much closer to hearing about the gospel before they would consider what it was about it nothing else! That got me giddy.
In fact, after our trip we received numerous e-mails from faithful members of the church who told us how inspired our message was and for provided missionary opportunities. One man said he has discussed the gospel with one of his friends, but didn't have the right occasion to ask her to take the missionary discussions. She agreed to come with him to the concert, and then they had a great discussion afterwards. She now will be getting baptized soon. Even if we just touched this one woman, our efforts were worth it. But she was not the only person touched. E-mail keep coming--weeks later--to tell us how our message touched them. Wow! I am so humbled to have been part of this experience--especially because it was the faithful member's faith that helped this be possible the most.
In one town, a woman was given an assignment by her ward to promote our concert. She said she advertized for weeks before we came and asked the members to spread the word to their friends and neighbors. She prayed and fasted for us. She truly exercised her faith. She wanted this experience to be a positive one that could touch the members as well as the community. Her prayers were answered. That day we were all tired (as usual) and arrived for the concert and an exchange with that university. Quite frankly, it was a dead venue. The sound did not project as well as a concert hall would have and the lights were blinding. We were a little frustrated during the sound check because we didn't sound as good as we normally did. But then we gave our concert. The audience was enraptured. They laughed at our jokes and they were silent for our tender moments. They were on their feet a couple of times throughout the whole performance and when we got to greet them, there was no end to their thanksgiving. It was VERY humbling. We sang that night better than we ever did at any other venue. Our show wasn't even as refined as it was by the end of the tour, but it left the greatest impression. I know it was due to the faith of that woman and other like her that wrought those miracles.
It just goes to show that by small and simple things great things are brought to pass (Alma 37:6). We are never alone.

Truthful Resolutions

So this is a paper I wrote for my English class. It is something that I am passionate about and was kind of proud of this little essay. It's not the best writing in the world, but apparently my teacher liked it a lot. It is copied and pasted, so little in-text citations are still included. Just ignore them :)

On a hot, sultry day, Chicken Little sought relief from the sun under an apple tree. The branches leisurely swayed with the breeze and Chicken Little deeply sighed in contentment. About halfway up the tree an apple stem could no longer support the weight of its fruit and slowly began to detach itself from the branches. Finally, with a sudden burst of wind, the apple wrenched itself from its mother bearer and catapulted towards the earth. Unfortunately, it had the misfortune of splitting Chicken Little’s comb.

Startled, Chicken Little jolted to his feet. He looked one way, then the other. What had hit him in the head? There seemed to be no indication to Chicken Little as to whom or what had been the devious offender. He looked up and noticed the clear sky. Not a cloud was in sight to drop such projectiles. A sudden thought struck him: the sky must be falling! Yes, that was it. His breath became shorter; his chest heaved with alarm, and his heart began pumping wildly. He had to warn the world that inevitable destruction was soon at hand!

Undoubtedly, there were those who believed Chicken Little. They may have trusted that what he said was true. They may have trusted his judgment and been sucked into the growing, popular belief. Similarly, if we do not discover truth for ourselves, we will be forced to accept shifting, unstable social beliefs.

What is truth, and how do we discover its authenticity? From the Doctrine and Covenants we learn truth is “knowledge of things as they are, and as they were, and as they are to come” (93:24). The inference may be made that truth is invariable. We can discover truth by examining, questioning, and studying.

First, we must examine our subject. This is essential because in order to form questions, we must first understand what it is we are questioning. In examining, we need to find out what information is being presented on the subject. However, in the process of gathering information, it is likely we will come across information that is not adequately valid. One must keep in mind that “the value of information, facts, figures, and the like, depends on what we make of it—on judgment” (qtd. in McCullough, 2008, p. 2). Drawing from reliable sources and using information relevant in its context is important.

Then, we must question our subject. When questioning our observations, we can better come to understand:

By questioning [Socrates] believes that at some point, after they have cleared away all the rubbish, the interlocutors will figure things out, discover the principles that ring true, that make sense of things. Questions thus reign supreme, for only questions, not lecture, can give birth to understanding. (Merril, c. 1999, p. 2)

Speculation increases interest and opens up for more study. It facilitates our ability to refine our thoughts and look at the information we gathered with an interpretive eye.

Abigail Adams once said, “Learning is not attained by chance. It must be sought with ardor and attended with diligence” (McCullough, 2008, p.2). This process of studying our subject requires a conscious, concise effort to find what is being sought. Faithful and strenuous study can enhance our perspective by compelling truth to step through barriers of false pretence, guile, and enmity, and into the perceptible light. Only by diligent study can conclusions be attained.

The research and conclusions reached should be done with all humility and with the acknowledgment that we are subject to human error. “One can have all the facts and miss the truth” (McCullough, 2008, p.2). It may be that we find our assumptions were wrong and the day may come for reconciliation.

We should, when we feel comfortable with our conclusion, desire a need for action. Knowledge alone cannot define our character. We are required to act. “For [studies] teach not their own use, but that is a wisdom without them and above them, won by observation” (Bacon, 1597, p. 1). One ought to come up with a definite list of resolutions that are in accordance with his/her newfound knowledge. It is easier to live by such resolutions when they are a substantial part of a mindset before opposition is ever encountered.

Why is reaching and being loyal to our own resolution important? Powerful influences of the world that we may not acknowledge in our daily circumstances are prevalent. There is a constant appeal to authority. Religion and philosophies that uphold morals are pushed aside in the name of science and other theories. Scientists who belong to institutions of good repute gain respect based on their accomplishments. Somehow these facts give them a right to refute absolute truth. It becomes increasingly more difficult to oppose views condoned by a prestigious circle of society. Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “I am ashamed to think how easily we capitulate to badges and names, to large societies and dead institutions” (1841, p. 3). He understood how this appeal to authority could limit our own reasoning.

Another tactic of persuasion, and perhaps a little more familiar to all, is the bandwagon approach. The bandwagon approach is where a belief is accepted on the pretense of safety in numbers. If a wide populace is embracing an idea, it becomes more widely known; therefore, it must be a safe idea. Influence is especially prevalent when we observe that which is most widely used, praised as effectual. While unable to see the alternatives, we assume the product or practice is more desirable, and we slip into the conformity of public trends.

A similar practice is the adherence to social norms. These are social practices that seem to be a part of society. Some of these norms are harmless: such as, giving people space when you talk to them, tipping a waiter, walking on the right side of the side-walk, etc. Adversely, some social norms can be harmful. “The other terror . . . is our consistency; a reverence for our past act or word, because the eye of others have no other data for computing our orbit than our past acts, and we are loath to disappoint them” (Emerson, 1841, p.5). Some cultural rituals have become our way of life, and we are afraid to “go against the grain” because we would be looked at for our differences—not our brilliance.

It is human nature to fear differences and being refused acceptance. Such persuasions are hard to resist. They are almost seamless with the ways of life that seem to ring a tone of familiarity in our ears. Distinction between what is benign and what is malicious requires discernment. If we yield to enticement, we will be “tossed . . . with every wind of doctrine” (Ephesians 4:14). Thus, a life must be lived in accordance with its own principles.

The individual must obtain truth (not decide what is true for him/her) as an intrinsic property. It is not acceptable to accept ideas that are believed on the basis of popular acceptance. Boyd K. Packer once told a story about a classroom of children who had found a kitten. As the class excitedly gathered around the animal, they tried to determine if it was a boy or a girl. One boy suggested that they could determine the kitten’s gender if they voted on it! Even if they had voted, the truth could not be altered (1993).

There is a choice: we can either believe all we hear, or we can critically think about the information and use judgment. Perhaps Chicken Little’s friends would have been better off if they had thought through the prospect of the sky falling. They might have discarded the idea and avoided undesired stress. Instead, they fell into the trap of popular belief. Unfortunately, a dark haze of deceit, errors in logic, and lack of information can obscure truth.

As avid critical thinkers, we can determine the course our lives will take. “The quality of one’s thinking determines the quality of one’s life” (Merrill p.2). We can take responsibility for our lives and the decisions we make if we intentionally think through them. If we do not decide where we stand before we are confronted with a choice, we will likely chose what is familiar to us. What is familiar to us is often what we are exposed to most—not necessarily what is best or most efficient. We may seek to reach decisions of our lives on our terms and refrain from complying with socialized behaviors and beliefs that have been unconsciously instilled in us.

Mothers

Happy Mother's Day!
Speaking of mothers, this week in one of my classes, my teacher had us draw family maps. These were a visual representation of our families and the relationships we had with them. For example, because my Dad and my Mom were always close and made decisions together while I was growing up, they would be placed close in proximity together and have a strong bond drawn around them.
I realized while I was drawing our my family, that we all had good relationships with each other and they were all pretty even. At least as far as I could tell. But interestingly enough I realized that my mother connected well with each of her children. This may be due to the fact that she only bore girls and girls tend to bond well emotionally through warm communication, but I think she was also a mother who always listened to the spirit. I will forever be grateful for that.
I remember many times where I would have a rough day and my mother would know just what to say at the right time. I remember, in some cases, I would resent what she said, because frankly, it was true. And the truth hurt. I would let the storm of my frustrations carry me to my room and I would try to disregard what she said. But then as the rain and lightning dissipated, I would inevitably realize that she was right. Every time. How would this be possible in all the episodes of my life had she not listened to the spirit? I am so grateful for my mother. I know that with her, I will Never be Alone.

Conference Weekend April 2011

I had the lucky privilege of singing in conference! The past several weeks we have been rehearsing hymns and arrangement of hymns in preparation for this extraordinary event. Though rehearsals were a taxing, it was worth the trouble.
We were bussed down early in the morning that Saturday and arrived in the middle of the first session. We did a warmup and were soon on our way! Once the choir was out of the conference center from the first session we were in. We were even being seated as some of the audience was still leaving. We did a few run throughs and were seated. All the while we had people working for the church running up and down isles making sure that our collars were up high enough, that shirts of the same color weren't grouped too tightly together, and that we were arranged in a way that was appropriate to our height. I was really impressed with how organized the church was. From the time or our arrival, everything was scheduled out for us. Even before we arrived we had workers attend our practices and make sure that we had the right kind of clothing (it had to fit a certain criteria), the music was sounding appropriate, ect. And we had to fill out all kinds of forms giving the church permission to use our image and such. So a lot of work went into us being there.
While seated on the stand I noticed a few things. For one, the stand seemed much smaller, and for another, the conference center was huge! I think we had the best seats in the house because we had this lovely panoramic view of the whole center. It was lovely and very architecturally impressive. As I watched the seventy make their way in, it struck me how much they loved each other. They really did! They were giving each other hugs and patting each other on the back. It seemed like they were in the middle of a family reunion.
I was also struck with another thought. As I was watching all the men enter and take their seats, I couldn't help but notice that they were all very human. This sounds silly because of course they are human! We all know that! But their demeanor, the way they interacted with each other, and even their execution of the tasks at hand was all very human. It seemed to me that this huge conference that we had had such trouble preparing for and getting to, was just another church meeting. Though a lot of work and prayer was put into it, it was simply a meeting with a purpose of declaring truth. It almost had a business feel to it, though it was distinguished by a very prevalent spirit. And the messages shared...ah...so amazing. In observing all of this I couldn't help but have the thought, "There is nothing to signify a distinction between these men up here on the stand and many righteous men serving within the church." There was nothing unusual about them - nothing to drastically set them apart from the rest of the fold. It struck me that there are many wonderful men that are bishops, teachers, advisers, etc. that are very similar to those serving in high offices. The difference -and there is one- is that the prophet of the church and the apostles wear the mantle of their calling. They are set apart in authority and the ability for them to receive revelation as it relates to their calling. They are distinguished because God distinguished them - not necessarily because they could do a better job than the ordinary man who are steadily and honorably serving in another capacity in the church - like my old seminary teacher, for instance. They are all men of God. They all serve a purpose. That much I do know.
As I watched the seventy, quorum of the twelve, and first presidency take their seats, my heart swelled with love and testimony for each one. They were called of God. They have a great responsibility placed on them and I hope that my prayers for them do touch them as well as many other prayers. The spirit whispered that these were prophets and apostles called of God for our latter days. They were about to share messages that would serve as a voice of warning for us as we struggle in a world that is filled with terror and heart ache.
I found myself very pensive as I sat, gazing across a vast crowd. There were so many people of great faith gathered together. I could feel that their faith brought the spirit into the meeting. Matthew 18:20 says, "For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them." How much more glorious was the spirit when so many were gathered in his name!
Now, I do have to speak of the singing. We had rehearsed our pieces many times, but the sound that we produced in that meeting was nothing like what we had ever previously done. I think we had some major help. When we entreat the spirit, the spirit can perform miracles through us. I don't doubt that we were helped to sing the way we had been taught and that things were brought back to our memory. I also wouldn't doubt that other unseen voices were being heard as well. I would not be surprised to learn of this in the next life because I know we are Never Alone.
I am so grateful for the experience. I would be utterly selfish if I did not recognize that there may have been many people who would be envious of the opportunity we had. I hope that in my heart I do not take this for granted. This was probably a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Similarly, we live in an age of many technological advances. I have grown up hearing the prophet's voice through many outlets. The television, computer, DVDs etc. I feel that because these resources are so readily available, we are not as excited to put them to use. We may become a little more indifferent. Because of their availability we find it easier to "procrastinate the day of our [study]" (Alma 34:33). It is my plea (myself included), that we treasure up the words of the prophets as we would precious gems. Like Nephi, lets delight in the words given us and ponder them continually (1 Nephi 4:6).

Let's Be Chosen Vessels

We are still putting our noses to the grindstone! What can I say? School has taken a huge precedence over our life, as we just got through mid-terms and are trying to get through the remainder of the semester. But in being so busy we have not forgotten the important things like family scripture study and prayer and our "pillow talk."
Pillow talk is a term we once heard at a ward fireside describing how a couple would finally get into bed together and just talk about their day and tell each other they love the other - especially if they were busy during the day. My husband and I reminisce about how when we were single we used to stay up until odd hours of the night talking. Oddly, some things haven't changed (except that we do go to bed earlier)!
Recently I got called into my ward's Primary Presidency. We haven't had much time to do a lot together yet, because we had ward conference consecutively followed by stake conference, but we have met together and started making small changes to meet the needs of our student ward. Formerly, we trumped the larges nursery in our student stake (we happen to have a lot of older married couples in our ward), but now we have been encountering some changes that have reduced the size of the nursery (thus we are making some changes). I have been thankful for this calling, not only because children are so darn cute, but because I think the Lord knew that I needed to be involved more. This has been something I have been thinking about.
I tend to have a reserved personality and am content most of the time to only offer my assistance if I see a need. For some reason, I have to be certain that there is a need before I fulfill it. I don't normally assert myself if I don't think it necessary at the time. For example, we were sitting in church and a mother of two was struggling to keep both her children entertained during the meeting. I was sitting a few rows in back of her and observing her cute children, when to my (and the congregation's) dismay, her toddler fell over and hit the pew in front of him. The mother immediately picked him up and started rocking him. I know this child, and the boy is a tank. He can fall over steps of stairs and get up in a second. No problem. But this time he did start to cry and she rocked him back and forth. I observed that if she could not go out into the foyer with her child, because that would mean she had to leave her other baby unattended. But I wasn't sure if she wanted to go into the hall. I though about rushing up there and holding her baby for her, but it seemed that the boy was handling the fall pretty well. I thought I would offer my assitance if the child's crying didn't subside, or got louder. I was waiting for some sign that would compel me to act. Then a girl I know got up from her pew in front of the pew and did what I was considering. She just did it. And the mother was able to get up and carry her child out.
I felt very ashamed after this experience. I had let uncertainty dictate my choices, and I was waiting for something to necessitate my actions. I should have just risen to the occassion like the girl in front of me. This experience prodded some thinking on my part. I am reminded of the parable of the talents (Matthew 25: 14-30). Often we view this parable as a parable about talents, such as musical abilities, hobbies, athletic achievements, etc. All of these are good and commendable. I think we should develop all that God has given us. But this being a parable, I am not opposed to looking into multiple meanings. In Matthew 25, the Savior prefaced the parable of the talents by telling the parable of the ten virgins. We know that the oil that allowed the five wise virgins to light the way for them to join the wedding party was testimony. Spencer W. Kimball said of this testimony, "In our lives the oil of preparedness is accumulated drop by drop in righteous living" (Faith Precedes the Miracle, 256). We can gather from this that it is righteous living that our Heavenly Father cares about. It is through building his kingdom that our testimonies are strengthened and the testimonies of others are strengthened as well. Concerning talents, do we not have talents and abilities for the purpose of sharing them? They certainly are not for us to hoard away. They are for the building of His kingdom. I believe the message of the parable of the talents was to illustrate the statement, "to whom much is given, much is required" (Doctrine and Covenants 82:3). To name a few, I have been given the gospel of Jesus Christ. I have been given a wonderful family who raised me well. I have been given a wonderful husband who loves me and can support me in my achievements.
Could I really believe that all these things were given to me to benefit me alone? Surely not. These blessings are not mine to begin with. How would I face my God and tell him that the talents he gave me were spent on myself and that I did not invest my talents to the "exchanges" so the Lord could have received some "usury" (Matthew 25:27)? And I know that if I give of myself, I will be blessed with more ability to bless others more. If I fill my lamp, then I am prepared to light the way for others. We have all been given so much. If we do not develop what we have been given it can all be taken away. "For whosoever hath [developed his talents], to him shall be given, and he shall have more abundance: but whosoever hath not [developed his talents], from him shall be taken away even that he hath"(Matthew 25:29, Matthew 13:12).
At last, I have decided to make a better effort in sharing myself. I have already taken the initiative a few times this week, and I can promise, the spirit's influence in my life is even stronger. This perpetuates even more faith, which will allow me to build even more blocks of faith on these new blocks. I am overcome with gratitude for my testimony in my Lord, Jesus Christ, for making it possible for us to return to Him. A way for us has been provided. We must simply follow the path. I am thankful for the influence of the Holy Ghost which can help us fill our lamps and have the courage and insight to help those around us. Truly, we are Never Alone.

Entreat the Spirit

I realize it has been a while since I have written about my husband and me. I suppose that is because there is not much to report. We are just enjoying our routine life. We are both taking classes, happy, and busy! But I guess that is normal. I wouldn't say our life it tedious, but it is regular, with a fixed schedule and routine.
I wanted just to say a few words about this life style, since it is typical of most people. We get into the "swing of things" and we are living the same day every day, week to week, month to month, (for us semester to semester). There is nothing wrong with this in of itself, but there is the tendency for us to think that our days are so familiar to us that nothing can change. Consequently, we let our guard down. If we have never been in trouble before then why would we get into trouble now? This is an association fallacy. Because we associate our day with the other days we have lived, we assume that this day will be no different than the others!
In Alma 15 we hear about a "great check" among the people (vs 17). What is a great check? It means the people checked themselves from time to time. They knew that over a duration of time their way of life could and would morph if they didn't keep it in check. It says that the people were "checked as to the pride of their hearts, and began to humble themselves before God."
I'd like to draw upon another example in the scriptures. In Helaman we read about the capture of Zarahemla. Now how does a Lamanite army manage to waltz into the center of the Nephite land and capture their capital city? It says in verse 18 that it was because the Nephites didn't have "sufficient guard in the land of Zarahemla; for they had supposed that the Lamanites durst not come into the heart of their lands to attack that great city Zarahemla." So it would seem that when they thought they were safe, they were the most vulnerable.
This is why we need to listen to the men in the watchtower (a.k.a. the prophets - past and present) and keep a constant watch on ourselves. We must vigilantly safegaurd ourselves by praying and reading the scriptures (Sunday School answers). We need to be doing these things regularly and with intent; exercising our faith. If we pray daily, we are promised eternal life. "...when thou liest down at night lie down unto the Lord, that he may watch over you in your sleep; and when thou risest in the morning let thy heart be full of thanks unto God; and if ye do these things, ye shall be lifted up at the last day" (Alma 37:37). We need that constant help. Just when we are too comfortable, we may think we don't need the help. Oh, but that is when we are most vulnerable to the most malicious of predators - those who wish to possess our soul.
Daily scripture study is also imperative to our personal defense. "It is certain that one who studies the scriptures every day accomplishes far more than one who devotes considerable time one day and then lets days go by before continuing. Not only should we study each day, but there should be a regular time set aside when we can concentrate without interference...The important thing is to allow nothing else to interfere with our study" (Howard W. Hunter).
In this wise, we will Never be left Alone to fight the battle - the battle that is ever present. In the armor of God there is only one offensive weapon: the sword. This particular sword represents the Spirit, which is the word of God (Ephesians 6:17). When we read our scripture we are becoming familiar with the word of God and when we sincerly pray we are beckoning the spirit to be with us. This companion - this great gift from our Father - can help us discern traps, equipped with a single flaxen chord, before we walk right into them. This invaluable ally must be sincerely sought. David A. Bednar, in this last Conference said: "We more readily receive and recognize the Spirit of the Lord as we appropriately invite Him into our lives. We cannot compel, coerce, or command the Holy Ghost. Rather, we should invite Him into our lives with the same gentleness and tenderness by which He entreats us."
I testify that this is true. We need to be steadily aware of our weaknesses, our follies, and our character that is so often subject to error. If we are aware of these things we will be more dependent on Christ and our Heavenly Father. We will develop a close bond with him. We will be able to cultivate His Spirit in our homes. We will feel a closeness to our Savior. We will not doubt where we stand with God. I testify T\these eternal ties will lift us up at the last day.

The Goldsmith's Face

Refinement is an interesting word. In society, when some one is "high class" they may be boast this quality of refinement (ok "refined lady" may be a little old-fashioned, but bear with me). They are in essence,getting rid of all that is not acceptable in such a society. They are not coarse or vulgar. They are genteel, elegant, and polite. They are subtle and discriminate (according to the dictionary). This could also mean that they are discriminate in what traits they should adopt. So, through their discrimination they are free from impurities, and they are purified.
Though, in the scriptures, refinement is symbolically represented by a purging of precious metals, the concept is the same. In the Bible, Book of Mormon and D&C, the refiner's fie is purging and making pure. As we are being purged, we are also setting at naught all those things that re not of God. We are being discriminate. But there is a process by which we do this. To be refined, it seems that we have to go through a lot of heat. In Isaiah 48:10, the scripture indicates that refinement may be brought about by affliction.
God knows that by trials we grow stronger. He wants us to return to him, so he sometimes allows trials to come upon us. Trials can do 1 of 2 things:They can bring us closer to God, or they can repel us further away. What distinguishes between the two is not the nature of the trial, but our own nature. We are the deciding factor. It is my hope that through our tribulation we would be brought closer to Christ. Through our trials, we may become stronger. This is illustrated in John 15:2. The branch that brings forth (good) fruit will be purged so that it may bring forth more fruit. There is a purpose in our afflictions. James E. Faust said, "There is a divine purpose in the adversities we encounter every day. They prepare, they purge they purify, and thus they bless." Through our trials we can bring forth more good fruit - more good qualities and refinement.
In this I do not meant to say that God will show forth his wrath in the attempt to purge us. No, He is not an afflicting God. President Joseph F. Smith taught that, "It is a feeble thought to believe that the illness and affliction that come to us are attributable either to the mercy or the displeasure of God." We see this illustrated int he story of Job int he Bible. Satan comes before the Lord and says that God has prospered Job for his obedience, but he suspects that if God did not "hedge about him" (shelter him from affliction) he would curse God. He proposes a plan: "But put forth thine hand now, and touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face." Now read closely the Lord's reply: "Behold, all that he hath is in thy power; only upon himself put not forth thine hand." See how the Lord did not curse Job? He merely granted permission to the dragon to -well- basically create havoc.
So it is with us. At times, the Lord will simply lift his arm of protection. But it will all work together for our good (D&C 122:7). Again, it is not the nature of the trial that brings us closer to God, but out nature. One great example of this is one of my favorite stories. One Sunday meeting, a group of people were criticizing the Martin and Willie Handcart companies because they left too late in the season. They seemed to think that because they left so late, they were responsible for the many deaths along the trail. One man in the back was quiet. Then he arose calmly, but with emotion in his face revealed that he had been a member of the Martin Handcart company. He proceeded to explain that through the hard times he had been a recipient of help from the angels. He had learned how to be stalwart. Then he said this: "Was I sorry that I chose to come by handcart? No. Neither then nor any minute of my life since. The price we paid to become acquainted with God was a privilege to pay, and I am thankful that I was privileged to come in the Martin Handcart Company." Wow. He just said that the price he paid was worth what he gained: to become acquainted with God. It reminds me of the King of the Lamanites that the missionary, Aaron taught. He said, "I will give all my sins to know thee. This brings me to my next point.
I personally think that the refiners fire is something internal, rather than external. I will explain further. Alma the younger had an experience with an angel and was "touched by an angel" (he he). He was unconscious for three days! But while he was still unresponsive to the world around him, his mother and father were rejoicing that their prayers were being answered! Why? Because his heart was being changed. He went through and internal battle. He saw the bitterness of his own sins. He realized he would rather cease to exist than to face God with all his impurities. But then he called on the name of Jesus. His heart was changed and he was forgiven. He had been through the refiner's fire. (see the story of Paul, Acts 22)
Take another example, Enos. In Enos 1:2, Enos explains that his experience was a "wrestle" that he had before God. He said his soul "hungered" (Enos 1:4) as he knelt down to pray. He prayed all day! a good 12 hours perhaps! And then his prayer was answered with a forgiveness of sins. And why did he receive a forgiveness of sins? Because of his faith on the Savior (Enos 1:8), he was purified.
I think we all have to go through our own internal struggles. This change may be invoked by our trials as we try to draw strength from them, but I believe the true refinement takes place in the deep chambers of our hearts. As we strive to know our Savior, we tend to become more like him, and we bring forth good fruit. Then we discover more impurities and allow God to purify us again. This pattern is a cycle we encounter until all of our dross is removed and all that is left is a pure metal. What happens at this point? The metal is so pure that the Goldsmith's face is reflected in us. We become so pure, that his continence shines in us. Our visage resembles his, so that the people who don't know Christ can know Him because they know us. It is an extraordinary thing. And all the while, the Goldsmith and master is keeping diligent watch over us and our progress. We are Never Alone in our refinement.
"That the trial of your faith, being much more precious than of gold that perisheth, though it be tried with fire, might be found unto praise and honour and glory at the appearing of Jesus Christ" (1 Peter 1:2). Let us seek to develop in us the gold that does not perish through the trial of our faith within ourselves so that we may be found pure at the appearing of Jesus Christ.

Don't Let Virtues Be A Vice

This semester I have been sufficiently humbled. I struggled in my degree, I struggled in my relationship with God, I struggled in my marriage, I struggled in about every aspect of life. I do not say these things on an extreme level, as the connotation denotes, but in the sense that I have not met my own goals or ambitions to the extent that I would wish. By saying this I do not wish to discount everything I said in my last post, but only to say that I am capable of better, and I have not wholly done my best.
This semester I had to come to grips with reality. I can't do everything I want to do simultaneously. I need to focus on one thing at a time, line upon line. This is something I have had to relearn. Isn't it interesting that through our mortal probation and essentially, our "test in life" we constantly have to review what we have studied, or learned. At least this is the case with me. I suppose I am human enough that I need constant, repeated lessons.
This past semester I was focusing on many things at once, which is expected, since at the university we are supposed to be learning many things at once. I was focussing on being a good wife, trying to fit time into my schedule for my husband, trying to learn to be a good singer, trying to be a good student, good member of the church, good friend, good family member, and god intellectual. I was trying to capture the spirit of learning, maintaining a good spirit in our home, being on good terms with my teachers, trying to not get sick, and show my love for my husband. All these little things add up! And these things are good things, but I have come to conclude that I need to focus on one or two things in all these categories, not every aspect of every category all at once. This would only slow down the learning process.
This past General Conference President Uchtdorf spoke on this matter. He said that it is easy to get busy, and when tough times come, it is easy to speed up as opposed to slowing down. It is as if an increase of pace will fix the problem, or in more palpable terms, it will speed up the time or event to make it that much more bearable. What happens happens. But this simply is not the case, we will be more benefitted if we slow down to attend to our problems then running away from them. We will learn so much more if we slow down and wholly learn concept than if we are cramming for a test or lesson we have to pump out.
This is especially applicable to me as a student. Welcome to the life of a music major. Everyone wants to finish on time, but hardly any music major does because unless things are planned out perfectly and everything goes perfectly, it won't be the case. So every music major is trying to finish school as fast as they can. I can't debate with that. I understand the motives of trying to finish fast. In my case, I want to start a family, I want to finish around the same time as my husband, I don't want to be an eternal student (well, sorta, I still want to be learning eternally). Also, a music major's schedule consists of a lot of classes, all about 2 or 1 credits each. This is not simply because the classes are easy. No sir. They are challenging and time consuming. It is because a music major has to take so X number of classes and there is a credit limit for the degree. I typical music major will be taking 6-10 classes per semester, that is, if they want to graduate as soon as possible. A music major is well aware of their surrounding peers. We are a tight-knit group of sorts. Everyone knows everyone and everyone's story. We know that so-and-so has a full schedule. Wow. That is admirable that they can do so much! President Uchtdorf said something that was really significant, "Some might even think that their self-worth depends on the length of their to-do list. They flood the open spaces in their time with lists of meetings and minutia - even during times of stress and fatigue." The truth is that we should not be running faster than we have strength (Mosiah 4:27)
True, we should be anxiously engaged in good causes (D&C 58:27), but not to the point of fatigue. If we fatigue our bodies, we fatigue our mind and spirit. The three go hand in hand.
Some might think that it is a sacrifice that will be rewarded if they just keep going on the way they are for a period of time and then slow down at a later date. Sacrifice is the giving up of something for something better. The consequences of an unhealthily-busy schedule are not worth the end. It is not a true sacrifice, but a self-pillage of our resources: our time, energy, and capabilities.
This is not to say that we should slow down to the point of idleness. But only until we can substitute out anxiety with enthusiasm. In this life we have assignments. We may be a teacher, mother, father, student, employer, employee. Think about your assignment at this time. " Our assignments are varied and they change from time to time. Don't take them lightly. Give them your full heart and energy. Do them with enthusiasm. ..To do less than this will leave you with an empty feeling " (Marjorie Pay Hinckley). Please whatever you are doing in life, do it in wisdom. I know I am trying to do the same. And I am Not Alone. I know that I can turn to my God to direct my path and help me accomplish my goals, for they are His. I hope to accomplish what He would have me. I encourage the same.