However Long and Hard the Road: Part 1

(This post should have been called however long and hard the blogger may write. For your convenience, I have split the post up into two parts.)

This talk came at a perfect time. And it couldn't have made itself anymore obvious!

My mom handed me this book when we were perusing our home library. I put it on the pile with the other books I've been meaning to read or am currently reading. By pile, I mean one of the many stacks around my abode. 

Although it was just one of many, I was inexplicably drawn to it. My eyes kept finding it, no matter where it was. I would just stare and contemplate the title. 

I've even gone as far as opening it up and reading the flaps. Progress! I know. 

But the flap was all it took. 

"Often in our most difficult times the only thing we can do is endure. We may have no idea what the final cost in suffering or sacrifice may be, but we can vow to never give up. In doing so we will learn that there is no worthy task so great nor burden so heavy that will not yield to our perseverance. We can make it . . . however long and hard the road."

But here's the real kicker.

"All of my professional life has been spent with young people, an universally they (like the rest of us) have needed support, encouragement, reassurance, and confidence. They have, in short, needed hope- that incentive to keep moving, keep trying, and keep believing until hope's sister virtues of faith and charity can also work their miracles."

(Jeffery R Holland, emphasis added)

What. That is what I had been praying about the night before, when I wondered if my on hope was dormant. I thought this was going to be a book for a more mature audience. But there for all to see, it was aimed for me and my fellow generation.

I can't get over how this whole universal orchestration works! All things really do testify that there is a Christ.
Let me explain what I mean. I found an inscription on the inside. This means the book is at least over 27 years old. That's older than me! Before I came into my current 'party' (woo-hoo), BEFORE I WAS EVEN BORN, this man was inspired to say something that would strike me, guide me, and eventually influence me greatly. (I first came across a realization like this when I realized that if my companion, whom was 100% perfect for me and a bag of chips, and I did not have the names we did, we would not have been companions. CRAZY!)

When I asked my mom about the inscription, aka if she was holding out on me with her connections, she wistfully commented on how it's her favorite talk. Talk? It was given at BYU. In another funny serendipitous chain of events, someone found it and put it on Pinterest which eventually made it's way onto my little screen, and into my ears. Why read the talk when you can hear from the horses mouth? Erm, so to speak.

(Don't skip Sis Holland! Her talk is my favorite part.)

45 minutes may seem long, but it's one heck of a fast 45 min.

Nice, isn't it? Reminds you of the Sunday evening film screenings at the MTC, doesn't it? I miss those things. (P.S. I would pay money and a smile for Bednar's Character of Christ talk.) It was inspiring, it was nice. It didn't entirely give me the push I needed. But it gave me enough for the following days. More importantly, it was enough to get me thinking and pondering. At least until However Long and Hard the Road:Part 2!

Getting Along: 5 "Cure-All"s

There were two snippets of advice I got before my mission that served me greatly. 1) Don't compare. EVER. Just don't do it. 2)How to get along with your companion.

We're going to talk about the latter.

One of the most common fears before (and during) your mission is knowing that you are going to be glued to the hip of another human being. The only time you can be alone is when you're in the bathroom. The majority of the time, this other human being is a complete stranger that you don't know from Adam.

Will you like this other human being? Will they like you? Are you going to secretly wish to poison their food? Are they going to make you cry? Are you going to hate them? Are they going to dominate the companionship? Will they speak the same language as you? The questions go on and on.

Because of circumstances, I only had two official companions. Sis H in the MTC and Sis E in Novi Sad, Serbia. I will tell you more about them later. I say "official companions" because my first companion was my mom. Sis H was called to be a Sister Trainer Leader, which meant she was gone almost all day every Sunday, and often on Wednesday or Thursday nights and I was attached to other companionships during that time. My first few months on US soil I was still a missionary and as part of the rules, I still had to have a "companion" with me at all times.

Sis Hubbard was on of "my sisters". She was part of the
adopted companionship and my PE comp.

One of "my sisters". Sis S was also a part of my adopted companionship.

And here comes the spoiler... your companion isn't the only person you have to deal with. There's the street vendor, the other missionaries, investigators, teachers, members, nay-sayers, hobos, and so on. Being a missionary, and a human being, is a very social occupation. There is no getting away from it. You just have to deal with it.

So here is Dr Sestra with your vitamins and antidotes. Let's go with 5, eh? We'll end with the advice I was given. (It just might be my favorite.)

1.Pray for them- "I pray because I can't help myself... I pray because the need flows through me all the time, waking and sleeping. It doesn't change God. It changes me." C.S. Lewis (underline added). When you ask fro the well being of another, you cannot help but to become concerned for them, in however a small degree. That small concern, the tiny attachment, grows with each prayer. It may not change the one who is driving you crazy, but it will change you. Maybe you will stop doing little things to irritate them, whether or not you are doing it on purpose.

2.Pray for you- For those of you who don't know Moroni, he was a pretty cool guy who lived in ancient America. True story. In his last years, he was on the run from the crazy people, called Lamanites, who, at the time, did awful things. These crazy people killed his family and friends in horrific ways. Really. It's pretty graphic. While on the run, Moroni was alone. Not the kind of alone that you and I do, when we read a book, browse the internet or watch movies. His family and friends gone and his life at stake.
If that was me, I'd feel pretty bitterly towards those crazy people. I'd be gosh darn mad! I'd probably mop all up and down the ancient Americas. But what did Moroni do? What did he think about?
Faith, hope, and Charity. What? That's right.
Do you understand? He was utterly and helplessly on his own. He had seen things that defied all description of horror. He lost his father, his wife, and his children. But he chose to think about faith, hope and charity.
What does this have to do with getting along and/or praying for you? I just wanted you to know about Moroni, since I will be talking about what he said.
When I say "charity", I don't mean giving away means to the needy. Charity, in this case, is described as "the pure love of Christ." Whether you are christian or not, you can understand what that means. It means the purest and most abundant form of love.
How do you achieve it? Moroni says to pray for it "with all energy of heart."

Last thought to go with this section is the famous saying; Be the change you wish to see. Or in other words; You cannot change those around you, but you can change yourself. Pray for help to change. To be more tolerant and understanding. I know this works by first hand experience.
There was a sister in the MTC who I didn't love. I didn't hate her or dislike her, I just didn't love her. This was strange, since I loved everyone else. So Sis H and I decided to pray to have love for her. A week later when we followed up, we both found that our love for this sister had grown generously! Not only did I no longer feel like a bad person, but it made life so much better and so much easier.

Even though we would never had chosen each other as friends on our own, I could not ask for anything
better than Sis. H! I don't know what I would do without her.
(This was taken on my birthday last July, after enjoying the rain.)

3.Look for the good, ignore the bad- Or in other words, deal with it.
There is a saying that is seldom heard. Keep both eyes open during the courtship and half-closed after the wedding. You're not getting married to your companion. However, you are living, eating, breathing, and doing everything with them. This goes with all the other people you live with. You're not dating them, so keep your eyes half closed.
In the mission, there is a weekly practice called "companionship inventory". It's the time of the week you tell each other what to improve on or maybe what needs to be nixed. I was taught this formula: LOVE SANDWICH:
bread: something good about the person
meat: something the person needs to work on (in a positive way)
bread: something you like about the person

Love sandwich! This was my favorite time in the MTC because Sis H and I loved each other very much! We had an understanding that I have never known in any other situation. So our sandwiches would go something like this:

"Sis H! I love how you are so attentive to the others in class. You have such a gift with helping others to learn the language and to encourage them, especially when they get so frustrated. For the meat... Sis H, I'm sorry but you just got to turn down the awesome. If you could just do your best to stop being amazing, that would be splendid. I love that you push me to do better and be better. You're there for me before, during, and after a lesson. I really appreciate it!"

Love sandwich! Fast forward to Serbia. Honestly, we did not get along, at all. There was no understanding.  I was sick, and she had her own struggles she was dealing with. Both of us needed something we couldn't get from the other. In addition, we were each other's 'person'. The one that that rubs you wrong no matter what. The one that can just set you off! (And I haven't had one of those since elementary school) As you can see, this didn't make for a good pairing.
My brother told me to focus on the positive.  I couldn't find any. Probably because I wasn't in the best mood. So I asked her what her strengths are. True story.
She's a hard worker. She keeps a level head. TWO WHOLE POSITIVES! Woohoo! So these are the things I tried to focus on. I soon noticed that she has an immense love for the locals that they responded to. That's important to missionary work. Slowly, I started to see more and more positives to concentrate on. Did this solve everything? No. Did we laugh more? Yeah. It planted a seed. What happens to seeds? They grow!

4.Get to know them- This was touched up on a little bit in the previous section. When I asked Sis E about her strengths, I got to know her more. Will Rogers said:

Will Rogers

I bet you if I had met him and had a chat with him, I would have found him a very interesting and human fellow, for I never yet met a man that I didn't like. When you meet people, no matter what opinion you might have formed about them beforehand, why, after you meet them and see their angle and their personality, why, you can see a lot of good in all of them.

I have seen this to be true over and over again in my life. How can you focus on positives if you don't bother to learn them? How can you serve them if you don't know what to do? So much of loving another person depends on how well you know them. I was taught at a very young age that if you don't like someone, it's because you don't know them.

The more I got to know my fellow missionaries, the more I grew to love them. Sis H and I would love each other more and more as we found our commonalities and understood our differences. Sis E and I had a blast our last couple days together. (That's when I decided she really wasn't trying to kill me after all.)
Sometimes it takes a long time, as it did with Sis E, or sometimes it takes a short, yet meaningful conversation, a laugh shared while interpretive dancing, or when someone makes a comment and you go "I was thinking the same thing!'
How many times have we heard the story of the troublesome person, or child, and all it took was a teacher, friend, or bystander who was willing to take the time to get to know the individual which ultimately changes the individuals person forever. (Forever is a long time!)

5.Serve them- This is what I was told two weeks before entering the MTC. Find their love language and serve them. This changes both of your attitudes toward each other. I promise! If either of you don't know what love languages are, it's easy to find out. Ask questions like, "What is more meaningful to you? A nice note or an act of service? A meaningful conversation or a hug?" By doing this, you can discover how to most serve. This is my number one suggestion! If you do nothing else, serve those around you.

BONUS: If none of this is working (which have never heard of) and your companion insists on being a bumbler, be patient, be forgiving, and understand people change. None quicker than those on missions. Sis E and I are now really good friends. Both of us have changed. And I wouldn't trade her friendship for anything. These things work eventually. Make them a habit and they will become a part of your character.

What of it? Why should you love those around you? What difference would it make? Instead of answering and sharing why the people I love have been so important to me, I'm just going to challenge and urge you to find out for yourself. Try it. I dare you.

May 29: One Year Older And Wiser, Too!

Hopefully.

I was set apart May 28 and entered the MTC May 29. Instead of being all sad and mope-y, I decided to celebrate this day! It's more than worth celebrating.

May 28, 2013- 

My brother Peter stayed over. He helped me pack (Yes, I packed the morning of. In my defense, I had everything set out for like a week). It still hasn't sunk in. 

I met my siblings and sibling-in-laws for lunch. An would you know it! I got some food on my shirt! Not just any food. It was oil. On my brand new yellow shirt! No time to change.
My brothers gave me their last words of advice, proclamations of love and pride, and we said our good-byes. The last brother (besides the one that was going with me to the drop-off) was Joel. I got a picture with him and his small family. He told me about his first day. 

Back then, the families and missionaries would sit in one big room, watch a video, then say good-bye. After saying good-bye, on elder was having a particularly difficult time. So being the friendly teddy bear he actually is, he started talking to him.
"Are you okay?"
"*sniffles* Yeah."
"Missin' your family already?"
"Yeah. *sniff sniff*"
"Where are you from?"
"[Some place, probably Utah]"
"Oh that's cool. Where are you going?"
"Hawaii."
"SHUT UP! You're going to Hawaii!" 

That was his final advice to me. It makes me laugh to this day.  

Peter was in the car with my parents and I. "Have any questions?" Uhhhhh... I didn't know what to ask. I didn't know what I needed advice for or what I didn't know. "I understand." Uhhhh... It still hasn't sunk in. As I'm about to exit he blurts out "Oh by the way, you're teaching won't speak English for like the first 3 days. So don't feel bad about not understanding anything." This helped a TON! I wish everyone knew this before going to the MTC.  

I'm not even out before some sister has her arms around me. "I don't know you but I love you already." I'm going to love this place. I can't wait! I give my whole family a quick hug. Peter is the last (and then the first) boy I hug. Laterz! 

I follow the directions given to me. While getting my tag (YAY!) I run into a friend from junior high. No way! More and more friends start showing up.  

I'm the first to my room. My host sister advices me which bed to take. Whatever you say!

The Roommates: (L to R) Sestra Marks, Sestra Hendricks, Sestra Orgill, Sestra Farnsworth, Sestra Sturtevant

 

I'm taken to my classroom. Some guy with glasses takes me to a computer lab. The orientation video takes F O R E V E R! It buffers every 2 seconds for 3 minutes. Not even kidding. 

(L to R) Sestra Farnsworth, Sestra Jolley(Kristina), Sestra Hendricks

Sister Hendricks is sitting next to me. I think we're companions. "Oh! Cool to meet you!"
Sister Frampton walks in. I know her! Does she remember me? "Hey, homegirl. Homegirl? Is there something wrong with this video or is everyone having problems." She calls everyone homegirl. (A habit that she fully dropped 2 days later.) Nope. She doesn't remember me yet. I still don't know who I will know and who I won't. Is everyone here going to my mission? Are we all going to be in the same class?

I walk into the classroom after I finish my orientation. The guy with glasses starts talking to me. I think he's a teacher. "Bok!" Zdravo. "Kako si?" Dobro sam. "Koliko imate godina?" I don't know. He smiles and lets me sit down. I choose the seat next to Sestra Hendricks. We get along famously! We keep joking by saying how much "this is not going to work out" and how much we "hate" each other.  There's some funny people in my class. The first kid next to the door is Elder Tristan Wright. I know him! Well, I know of him. I was told he would be coming. Our parents work at the same institution.

We go to activities such as watching missionaries teach, us (as in 50 orange dot/brand new missionaries) trying to teach actors, fireside with the Nallys, orientation on missionary life (how to sit, how to stand, rules, etc.) from the zone leaders, sister trainer leaders, and branch presidency. The presidency wants to meet with everyone. One of them was my elementary school principal. We have our first companionship inventory. Our conversation turns to how I'm somehow going to blow up our entire mission. At least Bosnia. I simply wanted to know what happens if you through a ball into a mine field and whether or not one mine will set off the rest. 

The zone leaders lead us on a tour. Somehow we make it to our beds.
I feel right where I am suppose to be. I'm so excited! It still hasn't sunk in. This. Is. My. Mission.

May 29, 2014 

Holy cow it's hot.  

I dreamed about May 29th. Facebook status and everything. I woke up thinking it was the 30th. Nope! Lucky me! I can still celebrate it. 

I start off having breakfast with eggs and kefir. This took longer than I expected and breakfast became lunch. It was worth the wait. I highly recommend it. If you want it to cook faster, use a regular pan and not a cast iron pan. 

I pay tribute to my MTC roommates by playing the songs and genres we sang and talked about. Sestra Marks and I were the only two country lovers. Sestra Marks, I dedicated my listening time of Eric Church to you! Pitch Perfect and Jason Mraz were other favorites.  

I celebrate by making a delicious shake. Rolled oats, honey, ice, frozen fruit. coconut milk, kefir, and chia seeds. I eat it as I enjoy the sun. True to fashion and as if in tribute to one year ago, I GET IT ON MY SHIRT! The exact same yellow blouse! I will wear it with pride!

I study my scriptures. Alma 33 is wonderful! I might write a blog post about it. More music as I water plants in shorts. A year ago, that would definitely not work out. To finish off enjoying the afternoon by finishing Prince Caspian. Lovely read. My MTC buds would enjoy it. 

In tribute to my mission, I make palačinke. Well, I try to anyways. I had to substitute and wing a lot of the recipe. Here goes nothing! My parents are out of town and so is Peter. I guess I'll just have to eat this whole pan myself. 9 Serbian pancakes. I can do it! Or at least I can try.

But I can't forget what today is really about. It isn't just another reason to have fun and goof around. It's a celebration. I want to celebrate those who I met. To celebrate the lessons I learned. To celebrate the time I had. The friendships I made. To celebrate the person I became.

I wouldn't trade it for the world. I would do it all over again. And again and again and again. Sickness and all. It was all worth it.

Today marks the beginning of my best adventure to date. There were no romances. No dragons. No elaborate tricks. It was a bunch of kids living the minimum and gaining the maximum.

That is why I want to celebrate today.

Special Post: VIP

"July 2, 2013 - Happy Birthday Bryn!

 I like who I am becoming. I feel safe and confident in the path that I am headed down. Heavenly Father sure knows what he is doing, because I certainly do not."

I originally was just going to stick my favorite MoTab song up here and call it good. Then I looked up a video my trainer told me to watch. And I realized they connected. And they are always relevant.

This song means a lot to me for many reasons. It's a heartfelt plead. It's the deep wishes. This is also the best rendition of this song. It terms of hymns, Wayfaring Man of Grief (also known as The Stranger) has a tune that all are endeared to. However, in the marriage of music and lyrics, I believe nothing beats Come Thou Fount.

I heard this while in Serbia and it hit me that this is my song! Especially the second verse. Here I raise my ebenezer, also known as an ensign. It's like staking your claim or declaring. That's what I was doing as a missionary! Raising my flag for all of Novi Sad to glance at.
Hither by thy  help I've come. Nearer My God to Thee? I Need Thee Every Hour? God's hand was always evident to me. Sometimes as profound as a stranger turned dear friend. I read my MTC journal and found all these remarkable, yet small, instances that mean the world to me. A smile. A laughing. A secret waltz down the hallway with my best friend. Teachings from the spirit. Promptings that directed and healed.
And I hope, by thy good pleasure, safely to arrive at home. That's all I wanted. To serve an honorable mission by God and family would be proud of. And to do so safely.

Then I got sent home on sick leave. It would only take a couple weeks or so to get better, right?

By the time I finished watching this, I had a fun bouquet of emotions going on. I was laughing/smiling/crying/coughing/pensive/I'mACurrentBush! Although I knew the story, very well, hearing the whole things brought out something different. Do you know how strange it is to hear your exact thoughts come out of a bush?

That's EXCATLY how I felt! I loved who I was becoming. I was learning things I never would have learned otherwise at break neck speeds. I could see my potential and it was reachable. Then I got sick.

All of my brothers could have finished, how come I couldn't? (Noticed I said "How come" and not "Why") One of them told me before I left how proud he was of me. And he meant it. I have never heard him say it like that to me before. Another brother told me that it was my turn to make have my own adventures and make my own stories. This is something I have always wanted! I have always listened to my bothers tell their stories, and now it was my turn!
When all these great things were happening, how come it stopped?

Because I'm a current bush. I'm not my brothers. I'm not the other missionaries. I am Sestra Farnsworth. I am Aubrey. He has a plan for me.

Because God is the gardner. The quote in the beginning is from my MTC journal. God does know what He's doing, and I certainly do not. He is the gardener. I am a current bush. He cut me down to make me, well, me. He knows who I am and who I can be.

Because as the heart felt pleading of the song I sang so many times in English and Croatian, He is taking my heart. Taking it, and sealing it. And with His goodness like a fetter (it's a chain, for those of you who don't know), we are binding my wandering heart to Him. I am definitely prone to wander.

He is the gardener. He knows what He's doing.

 

My Mustached Dinosaur: My happy thought

Not many of you know this story. I told it to the senior sister in my area during my final days in Serbia. She heard I liked stories and wanted me to tell her one. What started out as a harmless, playful story turned into something a bit more personal. I call it my happy thought.

Once upon a time, there was a raccoon who visited the Land of the Dinosaurs. They were big and scary and roared all the time! This scared the little raccoon.
Being a smart raccoon, he brought a buddy with him. However, they somehow got separated. In the dinosaur feeding ground no less! Poor Raccoon was alone. The dinosaurs looked bigger and scarier than ever. They gnashed their teeth and almost stomped on Raccoon.
Just when Raccoon was about to cry, he heard a very kind rumble. It wasn't a gnash. It wasn't growl. Just a sweet welcoming roar.
He looked up to see a great big dinosaur with a very white mustache. Raccoon didn't speak dinosaur, and the White Mustached dinosaur didn't speak raccoonish very well. They eventually discovered that both speak goat.
The White Mustached Dinosaur found out Raccoon was from the Land of Cowboys. He always wished he could have a ten gallon hat. Raccoon wanted to learn how to speak dinosaur.
(Keep in mind I was trying to breathe during this. At this point I was NOT feeling well AT ALL) So the White Mustached Dinosaur and Raccoon became friends. Raccoon learned to roar, and White Mustached Dinosaur got his ten gallon hat and became a REAL cowboy.
The End.

So the real story of what really happened? I smile very time I think of it.

It was my first full day in working in Serbia. My trainer was showing my the landmark places as we passed out "bez platno" English class flyers. Each town has a place called "Centar". It's like their town square or strip mall. Novi Sad a beautiful one! You can find it by following the steeple of The Name of Mary church.

The Name of Mary Church. You don't have to be christian to be an answer to prayers. Prayers are answered in many different ways. It's like a surprise. It keeps life exciting.

So we went to Centar. I have never seen it so crowded since! We had already gone through a couple parks and down some random alleys. My trainer really wanted to show me these gypsy musicians that she thought were the bees knees! We found them in the thick of the roving people. I encouraged her to follow her desire to give them a flyer. I stayed and watched her weave through the crowd.
It was then that it hit me. No one knew where I was. No one even knew me. No one knew my fist name and people would get anxiety attacks trying to pronounce my last name! My friends and family didn't even know which country I was in! I felt very very very alone.

Centar at night. This was taken much later. 

It was then I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and saw a smiling. laughing face. It was a man, his wife, and their dog that we talked to in a park. "Zdravo, my friend!" he laughed out.
I can not explain the joy that shot through me! It was pretty transcendent! The loneliness was forgotten. In that moment, I knew God was listen to my thoughts. I knew that even though I felt, and looked, alone, I was surrounded by those who deeply care about me. About how I feel. About what I was thinking. The timing was too perfect if you know what I mean. I knew that I was safe, that I was loved, that not only was God looking out for me, but that he cares, that I matter, and that He is SO aware. I suddenly understood the depth of the meaning of that word. Someone was aware of me. All of me.

His english was okay and my Serbian was in the works. So we settled on German. Turns out my German was replaced by Serbian, so I spoke Sermanglish. He laughed and nodded that he understood as I struggled through sentences. His wife smiled and laughed too. She'd roll her eyes when he asked me questions about cowboys. Both had greeted me as if I was an old friend of theirs.

To your usual english speaker, Serbian sound like their angry when they speak. We may make fun of Germans for the way they speak, but they sound gentle compared to your usual Serb. You'll think they're mad at you, when really they're talking about a cute little dog they saw. It's just the way they speak. I grew to love this very quickly!
Anyways, I knew when this lovely couple started talking to me that for some unknown reason, they loved me.

 When things got hard, I would think of them. These strangers who greeted me so warmly I almost cried. Unlike my story above, I only saw my mustached dinosaur once after that, when he came in to sign up for english classes. I prayed everyday I would see him. He came a couple times, but he would be gone by the time I finished with my classes.
To this day I still pray for him and his wife. I pray for the greatest thing I could wish for someone. Eternal happiness. To be sealed to your loved ones fro time and eternity, not just for this life. To find the joy that comes from truth. Not the proverbial kind, but when you can tangibly feel and know for yourself that there is a God, that He loves his children.

Znam da kroz Duha Svetoga možemo znati da je Mormonova Knjiga istitina i da je evanđelje istinito. Znam da smo djeca Božjia. Bog voli nas! Molila sam se i Bog je uslišao moju molitvu. Možete saznati se sebe ako čete se moliti i čitati svetu pismimu. Volim te!

So mothers, fathers, families, friends, and whomever else has a missionary in their heart, they're being taken care of. Down to the last insignificant detail.

I always smile when I think of my white mustached dinosaur. He's my happy thought!

God speed!

Surf This: a few things for you to check out.

I'm going to direct you over to two other blogs.

First, my blog (blogofaubrey.wordpress.com) has a wonderfully delicious recipe on it. I cried it was so good. I also cried from excitement! If you're feeling mission sick, or just plain old rotten, food can help you get back to feeling connected. I wouldn't have believed it if it hadn't happened to me.
No, this isn't emotional eating. Although that is a popular hobby in the mission field, this was my way of connecting with my beloved mission land. The recipe is quite different and it didn't taste as good, but it tasted good enough. It's like reliving a memory!
Don't believe me? Try it yourself. I might even make you some if you ask nicely.

Second, this is my friend's blog. She use to pay me to be her friend, but that's another story. She is an incredible human being! All who know her love her. She is sweet, genius, and down to earth. Pretty much, if someone like her gets a medical release, it can happen to anyone. I strongly encourage you to read it!

You can read it by clicking on this link.

I got to meet up with this friend for a little bit last week. A group of early return missionaries have started a pioneering group. Pioneer as in first of it's kind, not the trekking across the nation. One of them is from my mission! They meet on Thursday nights in Pleasant Grove, Utah. They call it an institute class for early return missionaries and their parents, but it's more like a bunch of crazy (in a good way) kids helping each other out. Like in the MTC! REmember those long hours pend with your district? It's like that. What an inspiring group of people! They're testimonies are strong and so is their faith. I'm very proud of them and the work they are doing. Atta go, kids!

They were featured on KSL. Follow this link to hear more about them. I met both of the ERMs featured. Kenzie is a friend of a friend and I briefly met her at TRC. Three of us (sisters from my mission) were present Thursday. Both those sisters are absolutely incredible!

There's enough here for you to ponder while I study for my next anatomy test. Happy surfing!

Vidimo se!

The Great Test

Life is kind of hard, don't you think?

I took a test last week. I got 64. 64 out of 100. You're probably thinking, "That sucks" or "You probably shouldn't be sharing that."

I also knew ahead of time that it's a hard class, which I think is why I was able to score so "high". I worked hard for this test! I spent almost 2 weeks of nothing but studying. (I never study on Sundays. I promised one of my brothers a few years ago I wouldn't.) I took a small reading break but besides that there was a lot of studying involved. All I got was a 64. That's barely over half.

What if I told you most people score about 45 or under? Changes things a little. As I mentioned, I knew ahead of time this would be a hard class. Lot's of people complain, saying the teacher should change his ways. (It has been said he is the toughest teacher on this subject in the west. I actually really like him.) It's Intro to Anatomy and Physiology. Don't understand? How would feel knowing your doctor's education was lax? It's a simple introduction class, but these are the basics. If he cheaped out on the basics, do you really want him working with you? I work with a lot of brilliant doctors on account of being a medical mystery myself. They are sharp, brilliant cookies! And they have to be. Health affects all aspects of your life.

But I'm getting off topic. What does this have to do with life? With being home on a medical release? Well, that test was hard! But it wasn't REALLY REALLY hard. It could have been. It could have been stressful. On a dramatic, slightly over-exaggerated level it could have been fatal.

I actually really enjoyed it. It was almost fun! Because I knew ahead of time it would be hard, I was able to just breeze through the test. I studied sufficiently enough that if I didn't know the answer, I didn't know it and moved on.

Life is that way. It can be hard, or it can be REALLY REALLY hard.

Heavens knows none of us are perfect. A seminary substitute teacher use to say, "Ain't nobody in this room been twinkled yet!" (twinkled: to be translated, made into a celestial being) If you look back at your life you will have no problem seeing how the gospel has made life easier for you. Simply knowing has an affect on trails. It makes your Everest seem like a sledding hill. If I didn't know this class was going to be so difficult, I would have freaked out, stressed out, and maybe even tapped out. The test would have been a very different experience, no doubt resulting in a lower score.

We make mistakes, but the atonement allows us to learn from them and move forward, getting a better score. The grading curb is individual! How great is that?!

The best part, life is an open book test.