God's love - it's enough

Today was a good day. It wasn't like anything incredible happened. I wasn't offered a million dollars or given a free trip to Disneyland. It was just generally pleasing. A fantastic start to a week I've been dreading.

Near the end of the day, I was walking back to my apartment with an empty plate in hand. I was in a parking lot. No one was around. Suddenly, I got the urge to throw the plate to the ground and watch it shatter into tiny little pieces. It started out as a funny little idea. I wanted to see it happen, I wanted to do it. But, I convinced myself that I couldn't do that unless I was in a mood that would somewhat justify it.

As if on cue, my mind was suddenly filled with all the things in life that I'm not happy about. Things that worry me, things that stress me out, things that I wish I could change - all these negative thoughts wouldn't go away.

I was frustrated with the fact that I can't allow myself to be happy (Another blog on this is in the works - has been for months. Just a little nervous to post it). Of course, that frustration only made things worse.

One thing in particular kept eating at me. And that is how lonely I often feel. I know, cliche for a single girl in her early twenties to feel lonely. But it is a real struggle for me and I know it is for many other people, too. One that I have moments of success with, but I often find the loneliness eating away at my joy.

My mind jumped back to an interview I had with my bishop in September. He had asked me about my social life and I cried telling him how I don't feel loved, how I don't feel cared for, how I often feel that my presence goes unnoticed.

I pushed the tears away and said, "But, through all of this, I've never been closer to my Heavenly Father. My relationship with Him has only strengthened. I know He loves me and that's what really matters."

Now, I could tweak that just a bit and say "His love for me is enough." I related that feeling to the bishop. I told Him that it was hard that I felt that way, but I was overcoming it through the power of the Atonement and that I was grateful for how it has shaped me into who I am. Most importantly, those feelings of loneliness don't matter and they can be pushed away. How? Because Heavenly Father loves me, and that's enough. His love is greater than anything else. And that's more than enough.

One of my favorite scriptures, Romans 8:38-39, says "For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord." Nothing can take that love away. His love is enough to carry me though my hardships. He loves me enough to give me a good day like today. He loves me enough to send me trials and let me grow. He loves me. And that's enough.

So, as I reached my apartment, I said a little prayer of gratitude, thanking Him for loving me enough to put those unhappy things in my life in order to let me grow.

And don't worry, I didn't smash the plate.

Thoughts on writing...

I've had a lot on my mind today. It has distracted me in everything I've had to do. However, I've also avoided really thinking about these things too much. The little thinking I did made my head want to explode and gave me a panic attack. So I decided to get away.

What I usually do to get away is write. When I am struggling with something in my own life it sometimes helps to forget about my own life and create a new world, a new character, a new something. Tonight, I came home wanting to write. This has been a struggle for me lately. Not because I don't have the desire or the creative juices flowing, but because I'm holding off on my big project for NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month). It is only ten days away now and honestly, I can't wait to get started. I'll probably begin the moment the clock strikes midnight.

Anyway, since I can't get going at that project, I had another one in mind that I decided to go back to. However, as I looked for it I came across files and files of all these other unfinished projects. I opened a few I had forgotten about and was disappointed to see my lack of commitment. One of them only said a few lines and that was it. But, I was still excited with all of these possibilities

I was reminded of a NaNo pep talk by Brandon Sanderson I read just last night (he is on the list to give another one this year and I won't lie, I'm beyond excited). He mentions the "writing reservoir" that most writers have inside of them. I can completely relate to that. I'm constantly thinking "Hey, that's a great idea for a book!" or "Oh man, get me a pen quick so I can write this down." Ideas come all the time. Honestly, I'm constantly thinking of ways to turn every day things into a story of some sort. For a while, I was in the habit of carrying a notebook with me and writing these things down as they came. I turned them into very short stories in another notebook I kept on my nightstand. This is a habit I wish I still had.

Sanderson also talks about something else I can relate to all too well - finishing. He said, "On the path to becoming a professional writer, I've noticed that there are many drop-out points. These points are where I've noticed that a large number of aspiring writers tend to give up. the biggest one is finishing that first novel. Many people claim they want to write one, but a mere fraction of those people will actually make it to the end." It is sad how true this is for me. Since I was eleven years old I dreamed of becoming a writer. Publishing a book was the first thing on my bucket list.

I think that is where my problem lies. That's what I wanted to be when I "grew up." Yet, I started then. I wrote stories of a girl made of cheese, a man with an extendable nose, a girl on the quest to find a pet, and many other random things. But I always dreamed of becoming a writer, like it was some sort of process I had to go through. I never really admitted to being a writer. Even now I struggle saying those words, even typing them. But I write - I am a writer. Yeah, some stranger doesn't have my words bound and sitting on a shelf somewhere. I don't get paid to sit around and let my imagination take over. I rarely even allow people to read my writing.

But I write. I am a writer. One capable of finishing. And I will.

Prayer: Pour it Out

Praying is a part of my everyday life. I love communicating with my Heavenly Father. Throughout the years, as I've learned more about prayer and gained a stronger testimony of its power, I've been able to gain a stronger relationship with my Heavenly Father than I ever thought possible.

I've been reading this book by S. Michael Wilcox called Face to Face. In it, he talks about the idea of pouring out your heart to God - telling him every detail of what is taking hold in your heart. By doing this, you are emptying your heart to allow room for Him to fill it. It is explained better in his book, I highly recommend reading it.

This idea of pouring out your heart in prayer is one that amazes me. It is so simple, yet so difficult.

Sometimes, when I pray, I feel that the issues occupying my mind aren't worthy of sharing with the Lord.  I just have the ability to convince myself that my issues are insignificant, too small to take to the Lord. I know I'm not the only one who feels this way, others have expressed this same feeling to me, so I thought I'd share the experience I had today.

As the sacrament is being blessed and passed, I like to take the chance to sit in the quiet and think over the week I have just finished. I think about what I did, how I felt, where I can improve, and other such things. After thinking it over, I take it to the Lord and pray for the remainder of the sacrament. Today I had convinced myself that the Lord was busy with more important things and I wasn't willing to talk to Him about my week.

However, as I sat with my arms folded and my eyes closed, the thought that I needed to pray kept coming to me. Why? I thought. God has enough on His plate, He doesn't need my problems added to it. And then it came again, Sorine - You NEED to pray. I fought it again. God created worlds! His works are endless. His power is incomprehensible. I kept listing His creations and turned my thoughts to a prayer of gratitude.

And then the spirit spoke to me again. Sorine, it said, all this is true. But you are forgetting something - He created you, too.

Now, as I type that I realize it may seem a bit cheesy, It may seem like something I'd read off of a flowery handout in a Young Women's meeting. Yet, I believe it. And at that moment, sitting in the almost silent chapel, I felt God's love for me stronger than I have in a long time. I felt His desire to hear from me, His hope for me to pour out my hear to Him.

I was reading parts of a talk by President Uchtdorf titled "The Love of God" from the October 2009 conference. This particular part stood out to me. He said, "He loves us because He is filled with an infinite measure of holy, pure, and indescribable love. We are important to God not because of our resume, but because we are His children. He loves every one of us, even those who are flawed, rejected, awkward, sorrowful, or broken. God's love is so great that He loves even the proud, the selfish, the arrogant, and the wicked. . . Our infinitely compassionate Heavenly Father desires that we draw near to Him so that He can draw near to us."

God wants to hear from each one of His children. He desires to know every detail of my life. And yes, He is all knowing, He does see everything, and He would know what happened in my week even if I didn't pray to Him about it. But it means so much more to Him when I tell him. By pouring out my heart, I'm showing my Heavenly Father that I love Him, that I want Him to be a part of my life, and that I want His help.

I've had many moments where I poured out my heart to Heavenly Father and felt him fill it up with His love. Today was the first time I had this experience when it started out with me not wanting to even pray. I promise you, God does care about you! If something is important to you, it is important to Him. So why shouldn't you pray to Him about it? He cares about every detail of your life and He wants you to tell Him about it. As you do this, your relationship with Him will become stronger than you ever thought possible. you'll be able to feel His love for you deeper than before, and the answers to those difficult, personal questions will come.

In this same talk, President Uchtdorf says, "God does not look on the outward appearance. I believe that He doesn't care one bit if we live in a castle or a cottage, if we are handsome or homely, if we are famous or forgotten. Though we are incomplete, God loves us completely. Though we are imperfect, He loves us perfectly. Though we may feel lost and without compass, God's love encompasses us completely."

Remember - God loves you! And so do I. :)

The Story.

I had a sucker in my mouth. An orange dum-dum that tasted more like butterscotch than orange.

The back roads from my house to Ephraim aren't unfamiliar to me. I took them many times in my two years while attending Snow college and then took them even more when my sister was going to school there. However, what is unfamiliar to me is driving without music. While taking those roads I drove  my car, one that had a very good radio and stacks of CDs for when the radio would eventually fade away.

Yesterday I was driving on those roads. I wasn't in my car, I was taking my mom's car. The radio went out sooner than I'm used to. I don't know if you've ever driven on highway 6, but it gets very boring if you go too long without radio. Boring enough that I was almost enjoying listening to mostly static with the hint of a melody in the background.

However, the hint of a melody wasn't enough. I reached down to turn it up in hopes that a louder volume would provide more music and less static. I know, very logical. After turning it up I realized that there is a CD player in this car. So I kept my eyes down, trying to figure out how to change it to CD. I finally did and the music was shockingly loud. It startled me and I jumped, swerving the car just a little bit. I panicked and looked up, noticing that I was no longer fully on the road. I was about to hit a post so I quickly turned my wheel to the left. Apparently I turned it a little too hard because I was no headed to the other side of the road. Trying again to fix the problem, I overcorrected.

At this point I no longer had control of the car. As much as I wanted to just stop the motion, get control, and head on my way again, it couldn't happen. I remember clenching the wheel and screaming as the car began to turn on its side.

And then I let go, closed my eyes, and held my breath.

When the car stopped moving, I opened my eyes. I saw glass everywhere, dirt still flying through the air. The first thing I did was say I panicked prayer. I don't even know if I was saying sentences or just parts of words between quick breaths. But I knew that Heavenly Father knew what I needed. And He didn't leave my side from that moment on.

With shaking hands, I reached for the door next to me. I wanted to make sure I could move every body part. The door opened easily and I climbed out, shaking all over (I'm shaking now just thinking about it). Once I was sure I could move, I looked to see if I was bleeding. I found one scratch on my right forearm. It had one drop of blood, barely even noticeable. I remember staring at it and thinking "seriously? That's it?"

I'll skip the details about failed calls to 911, hysterical sobbing, and finally having a car pass by that I could wave down. I'm so grateful for the many people who provided me with comfort, a radio to contact dispatch, and a cover from the rain. They were constantly reminding me to drink water and asking me questions not just about the wreck but also about my life. They really cared about me.

The police officer who came and then drove me out to meet my mom was the nicest police officer I've ever met. He told me he rarely came out to that part of Juab county, and when he did it was for car accidents. However, he told me that the majority of those wrecks don't have survivors.

Everyone kept telling me how lucky I was. I kept telling myself how lucky I was. I climbed out of that car with no problem other than the nervous shake. I don't know how I got through that with just a scratch. My body aches, but it is intact. My breath was quick, but it was there.

One thing is certain, the sucker was no where to be found.

A Righteous Desire

I mentioned in this post that I wanted to serve a mission. I say wanted, but let's be honest. I'd still like to serve a mission. However, it is obvious that I didn't serve one. I'm still in Utah, where the opportunity for a shy girl to share the gospel doesn't come up very often. Serving a mission was all I wanted. It was all I could think about for the longest time.

So how come I'm sitting in bed at two in the morning writing this blog rather than out serving the Lord?

The decision to not serve a mission was the hardest decision I have ever made. I imagine that others have had a similarly hard time making a decision when it comes to serving a mission. Let me say this - missions are not for everyone. Only go if you feel it is what the Lord wants you to do. Don't let others pressure you into it. And if you aren't ready, wait until you are ready. If you are going to serve a mission, it will be worth it to do it at the right time and for the right reasons.

And with that said, let me tell you my story.

Growing up, I never really thought I'd serve a mission. Missions were for boys, I am obviously not a boy. So why would I go? When I was about nine or ten my aunt and uncle asked all of us kids gospel questions. I was asked whether or not I would serve a mission. I remember telling them that I would, but only if I wasn't married. A mission was my Plan B.

I loved learning about the gospel, I quickly grasped a love for the scriptures, and I loved to teach. It didn't take long for me to realize how serving a mission was what I wanted to do. As I got older, the idea would come to me more and more often. My desire to serve grew to a point where all I could think about was serving a mission. I had no plans for a career, no plans for college, only plans for a mission.

The summer before my junior year of high school I had a change. My sophomore year had been the hardest year I'd ever gone through. I struggled mentally, emotionally, spiritually, physically...suffice it to say that it was difficult. At the start of the summer I decided that if my life was going to change, I had to be the one to make it happen. My entire attitude changed and I started to see things in a new light.

That summer, I went to EFY and I sat in the chapel surrounded by young men and women who have undoubtedly faced trials just as I have. We sang the hymn "There Is a Green Hill Far Away," and as I sang the line "We may not know, we cannot tell, what pains he had to bear" the challenges I had faced the year before came flooding into my mind. Christ suffered a lot of pain. Christ suffered a lot of pain just for me. He suffered my pain. He went through my trials. I realized how much pain I had felt through my life and looked around the room thinking about how much pain was in this room alone.

It was then that I realized the advantage I have - I know that Christ suffered for this pain. I know that I can turn to Him and He will fully understand what I am feeling and will know how to succor me. Thinking about how there are people out there who don't have this comfort that I have made me sick. I wanted to share it - I needed to share it. A mission was no longer Plan B. I was going to go on a mission. Nothing was going to stop me.

Well, nothing except the Lord.

I'm not going to go into details of how I got the answer that I needed to stay home. It was a long and very personal process involving prayer, fasting, and attending the temple. The point is, I got an answer. And it wasn't what I was expecting.

So how come I wasn't supposed to go on a mission?

I ask myself that question every day. I'm living my new Plan B and isn't easy. I look at where I am in life and am constantly wondering "why am I here instead of out sharing the gospel? Why does the Lord want me here? What good am I doing sitting silently in classes, not even daring to voice an opinion?" I'll be honest - I don't know the answer. However, I've watched as moments from my past have brought me to where I am and all I can do is trust in the Lord and patiently await the day where I will understand His plan for me.

Serving a mission isn't a bad thing to do - in fact, it is quite the opposite. It is a completely wonderful thing to do! The desire to serve is a righteous one.  Why would the Lord say no to a righteous desire to serve?

Heavenly Father knows what He is doing. He knows me. He knows more about me than I do. Because of this, He knows what I need in order to make it back to Him. He knows the steps I will have to take, the challenges I will have to face, and the person I will have to become. Of course, in all of this I have agency and can make choices that will lead me away from Him. However, I want more than anything to return to Him worthy and happy. So I trust Him. I trust the plans He has in store for me. I trust that He knows what He is doing.

Even though serving a mission would have been a good thing for me to do, even though it would have strengthened me, even though it is a righteous desire, it isn't what the Lord has planned for me. I struggle at times, but I have complete faith that I am on the best possible path I could be on.

Fear is Scary

Sometimes, when I am writing, I quit writing for myself and start writing for an audience. I think more about who will be reading it and what they will think. I think less about why I am writing and the message I want to get across.

This is what has happened with the last seven posts I've written. They haven't been published. Just sitting as drafts, waiting to be read by anyone but me. I keep going back and reading them. And I keep getting more and more confused as time goes on.

The truth is, I've been struggling a lot lately. I've been afraid to admit it. I've been afraid to answer the questions that have already started to flow in. I've been afraid of the choices I have to make and of the responsibility that comes along with those choices. And most of all, I'm afraid of being afraid. I don't think I've even allowed myself to realize how terribly frightened I truly am.

I know I'm not supposed to fear. One of my favorite scriptures says "For God hath not given us the spirit of fear, but of power and of love, and of a sound mind" (2 Tim 1:7). I recite this scripture to myself at least once a day. When I find myself feeling anxious or nervous, or when I feel that fear seeping in, I quote this scripture. I remind myself that when I am on the Lord's side, when I stay close to him, I can have that sound mind.

Yet, I still find myself letting fear take over.

A while back - the week I wrote this post - I missed an institute class because of a stupid appointment I had. Please excuse my language, I tell my students not to use the word "stupid," but even now when I'm 22 years old, I sometimes can't think of another word. Anyway. The appointment ended. I spent the next 15 minutes reading my scriptures, then went to explain and apologize to the teacher. He knew something was up right away. He asked me a simple question and the next thing I knew, I was sitting at a desk in his classroom, tears pouring down my face.

One of the many wise things he said to me was that it is okay to be sad. Even though I have a testimony - a strong testimony - and even though I can have eternal perspective on things, life will be hard. Life isn't always fair. It isn't fair that my little sister isn't here with me now. It isn't fair that my parents had to bury a child. And even though I know we will be with her again, it is still sad.

Life isn't fair. It is full of twists and turns and everything else that could make a stomach sick. And it is scary.

A few people have asked me what they could do to help. What I'd like is support. Even if I'm not on the path you think I should be on, even if you think I'm making the wrong decision, it is ultimately my choice. And it has been exhausting and overly difficult to make this decision. I'm going to have to deal with the consequences, whatever they may be. So please, just listen. Just accept my decision. I don't need more pushing, I don't need to feel more guilt.

The point is, I'm scared. And just typing that sentence terrifies me even more.

What I wish I could say (Part 2)

Remember this post? Well, it is happening again.

How about you stop joking about taking me on a date and actually take me on a date? I think we would both really enjoy it.

Sometimes I think you are too judgmental. And that probably makes me judgmental. But that's the way it is. Because, really, if you'd stop noticing the things that annoy you, you'd find that you would be a lot happier.

I think you are old enough to start taking care of yourself now. Not that you are doing a completely horrible job at it, but I just think you have the potential to do a whole lot better.

You've quickly become one of my best friends. And I'm so grateful for that. But, I don't really enjoy it when you put yourself into my situations and try to fix them for me. I know you mean well, but I really do know how to handle things on my own. I just wish I had that chance.

Your honesty and humor are a great combination. I love you for that. Thanks for always being there for me, from the serious conversations to the crazy way eating of Swedish fish. You are the best.

You are breaking my heart. And I don't like it.

I'm proud of you. I truly am. You've never been afraid to be yourself, even when others haven't treated you with respect because of it. I wish I knew how to show you how much your example really means to me.

I wish I knew how to help you. I want you to be happy. It hurts to see you in so much pain.

You think like a girl. If you could just admit that to yourself and accept it, you might actually be able to enjoy it and come to some conclusions rather than all of this "it's just so complicated" crap.

I look back and think about how angry I was with you, how I constantly wanted to just slap you across the face. But if I had the chance now, I'd really like to just give you a nice high-five and say thanks.

This isn't easy for me. Nothing has changed. But everything's changed. I don't like dealing with it. My defense is to hide, which isn't the nicest thing for me to do. So I'm sorry. I obviously have some things I need to work out. I just really hope we can still be friends when all of this is over.

Rather than talking to everyone else about my life, just talk to me. I can give you the honest details. But when you discuss my personal life with people I don't want to know about these details, my trust in you goes down. I don't know if I'll be able to keep confiding in you.

Our car rides together are some of my favorite moments. You always have a way of cheering me up, even if you are crying in the seat next to me. I'm proud of the strong girl you have become. And I'm also so glad we are this close.

To answer your question, yes. I do still feel like that change will have to happen. But not in the way I used to think about it.

I remember when I had that really crappy morning and I didn't want to go to class. I didn't even have to tell you what was going on, you didn't expect me to tell you anything. You just stayed with me, watching movies and eating junk food until I was happy again. And that wasn't the first time you'd done something like that. And it obviously hasn't been the last. I know we aren't very sentimental. Ever. But prepare yourself, because I'm about to be. I don't know where I'd be right now if it weren't for your friendship. When I thought all was over and that no one cared, you were there for me. When I just want to be done, you are willing to do whatever it takes to turn my mood around. You really are the best friend I've ever had. I don't know how to repay you for that. So thank you. Oh, and PS- got me cookie, gave you cookie!

I wish I felt more comfortable around you, because you really are a great person. And if I had to list my top five best friends, you'd be in that top five. Which is weird, because we rarely even speak.

Cut your hair. Please. Just cut it already. It's gross.

You are such a weird guy. But you know that. And you don't care that you're weird. And that is why we are friends.

I think you are attractive. And if we could get to know each other, I think it would be beneficial. How about a date? ;)

I think maybe it would be a good idea for you to stop posting about how you are single on Facebook. It seems like you are trying to come across like you are okay with it, but it just sounds desperate and a little bit pathetic. Rather than post about it, just go out and get yourself some dates. I know you can, because you're pretty darn good looking.

Still want to send a dead fish and some rabbit hair in the mail? I know just the person...

I don't think I've lived up to who you could be.  But I'm trying. And I know you are helping me. Thank you.

Although we've never met, I grateful for the person you are. You've been a huge example to me.

I don't think you realize how truly amazing you are. I wish I could tell you. I wish you could see it. If I had the guts, I'd be telling you my thoughts, trying to build you up, and thanking you for all that you've done for me.

People are weird. We are people. That means we are weird. Deal with it.

Pray. He is there.

The first real memory I have of praying on my own is a memory I am very grateful for. I don't remember how old I was, but it was at our first house, so I was no older than five. I had been given a small case for lipstick. It was probably something my mom just no longer wanted, but I loved it. I brought it with me almost everywhere I went. Until I lost it.

I was upset about it. I'm sure you can imagine this, seeing how I was little at the time. But I remembered hearing stories about people praying when they had lost something and how Heavenly Father would help them find the thing they had lost. So I prayed. I told Heavenly Father that I wanted this little case back and that I wanted him to tell me where it was. I didn't get an answer and I was even more upset.

Now, it may seem odd that such a weird story has been the foundation for my testimony on prayer. Let me explain. I never found that case, but I was okay. Eventually I moved on. Of course, at that young age I didn't understand the influence it would have on me and I didn't think much of it. But looking back now, I'm so grateful for that experience. While I never had that little case again, I did have others and I learned to take better care of them. Heavenly Father did answer my prayer, but not how I wanted. Instead of telling me exactly where it was, He taught me to put less value in worldly things, to pay better attention to where I place things, and that I can always pray, no matter how small the situation.

I look back on this and realize that I have had many more moments like it throughout my life. I don't mean moments where I lost something, prayed, and still couldn't find it. I mean moments where I pray, but Heavenly Father knows better than I do and answers my prayers in a way I don't expect.

Let me change directions a little bit. On Thanksgiving, I was sitting at a table with some family members. We couldn't all fit at one table (of course not, though not all were attending, there are over seventy in the family), so people were wandering past with plates of food. One aunt sat across from me and as someone else walked past holding one of my baby cousins, this aunt lit up. She smiled, and then explained to us how grateful she is for prayer. She had prayed for this baby for a long time - he was born premature and was in the hospital for a while. "Even though I've only met him a few times," she said, "I have such a deep love for him." Praying for a person, even people you do not know, will bring you closer to them.

Last April, Rosemary Wixom, the Primary General President, gave a talk titled "The Words We Speak." This talk has recently become one of my favorite talks of all time. While it is geared towards how we speak to children, I like to relate it to all the people in my life. She says, "To speak to a child's heart, we must know a child's needs. If we pray to know these needs, the very words we say may have the power to reach into their hearts. Our efforts are magnified when we seek the direction of the Holy Ghost."

I decided to put this, along with what my aunt taught me, into action. Over the last month, I've prayed  to know the needs of people I care about, people I have a hard time getting along with, and people I've barely even met. It works. I've never been given so many promptings as to what to say, or how to act, or what to do. I've never felt such a connection to people before. It has been the most wonderful experience.

Prayer works. No matter what is going on in my life, I can pray to for help and He will be there. Even if it isn't how I expect an answer to come, He will send an answer to my prayers.Through prayer I can gain a better relationship with people. Through prayer I can let my testimony grow.  Heavenly Father knows what He is doing. He will always provide a way for me, and with faith and with His guidance, I can make it down the path He has planned.