Why Christmas is Important

One of my favorite Christmas songs recently has been "O Come, O Come, Emmanuel."  Here are the lyrics to the first verse and chorus:

O come, O come, Emmanuel
And ransom captive Israel
That mourns in lonely exile here
Until the Son of God appear
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.


If you're more the video type, here's a video you can watch instead:

In the times of the Old Testament, the House of Israel (aka--descendants of Abraham from Isaac and on) waited for a Savior to deliver them from captivity.  Their captivity was more of a physical sense, they thought, and waited for that Messiah (aka Emmanuel) to vanquish their enemies--the Egyptians, the Babylonians, the Assyrians, the Romans--and provide them, on a collective level, with the blessings deserving of a chosen people, including the freedom from the governments which they perceived held them captive.


Hold that thought as you ponder the next paragraph or two.


Christmas used to be a festive and borderline frivolous time for me.  Think Buddy the Elf, but less syrup on spaghetti.  That's gross.  Anyway, that was Christmas.  Of course, I always tried to keep the religious aspects of the season in mind as well.  The story of the birth of the long awaited Messiah grew in me, but it wasn't until I understood the bitterness of the holidays that I came to truly begin to appreciate the importance of that sacred event.

Nowadays, I spend most of my Christmas Eves not in anticipation of the day to come.  Instead, I think of all of the kids who dread December 24 and the days which follow.  Those kids who, in spite of their innocence, are subjected to the most vile forms of human nature during their holiday vacations.  Children who are abused.  Neglected.  Forgotten entirely.  Children who have to wonder why Santa skipped their house... again--and subsequently see themselves as unfit for goodness in general.  Children who question whether there can be a God who loves them, and--if there is--wonder why He would forget them... again.

My heart goes out to those parents who, in spite of all of their best efforts, are unable to provide a suitable Christmas for their deserving children.

My mind reels with the sorrow of those who mourn the loss of loved ones, taken too soon: those who won't have a stocking hanging above the fireplace or presents under the tree.

My soul becomes heavy with all of the reprehensible occurrences in the lives of those who deserve better than what they have gotten; the darkness of which stands in stark contrast to the lights of the season.

Of course, I eventually come to terms with my own sphere of influence (or lack thereof) and find some consolation in the understanding that I cannot fix every problem of every person.  That, however, is where this Messiah comes in.

Christmas isn't the best time for everyone, but it is--nonetheless--important.  For me, it is the evidence that no one is forgotten.  That a Messiah truly came to Earth to deliver Israel.  To deliver all of us.  However, unlike those living during the time of the Old and New Testaments, I know that this Messiah wasn't come only to deliver us from tyrannical rule.  (That time is yet to come.)  Instead, our Messiah came to deliver us from a captivity more burdensome than this:  He came to save us from abuse.  Neglect.  Illness.  Sorrow.  Sin.  Every reprehensible occurrence, whether by our own fault or the fault of another.

At times, I've heard testimonials of those who have "accepted Christ" that seem flippant and shallow.  However, for those who have truly set their mind firmly to following in the example set by that Man born in Bethlehem, they find that the experience is anything but flippant and shallow.  It is, rather, a tangible experience, one that transforms us from the inside out.  At times, it isn't our circumstances that change.  It is us who are changed.

And we are delivered.

What's more, is that someday, whether in this life or the next, we are promised that the faithful will receive recompense for every grievance experienced in mortality.  No deserved blessing will be withheld.  "The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude" (Joseph B. Wirthlin).

And we are delivered.

It is my solemn and gladsome testimony at this time that "God is not dead, nor doth He sleep.  The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on Earth.  Goodwill toward men" (I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day).  I testify that the Messiah did come, and He did deliver us.  Every single one of us, whether we choose to believe it or not.  Are these not the "tidings of great joy" uttered to shepherds all those years ago?  Is this not the message that angels still deliver today?

We are delivered by Him who is called Wonderful, Counselor, All-Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, and the Prince of Peace.

That's why Christmas is important.

My Response to the "10 Heartbreaking Struggles"

It's been a while since the last post. But, don't panic, I'm still alive and well. Ish. I've just hit that point of adulthood where I laugh whenever I'm asked what I like to do with my spare time.... Spare time. That's hilarious.

Anyway—I recently came across an article. “10 Absolutely Heartbreaking Struggles Single People Never Talk About.” I read it. I thought it was...something...and then I thought nothing more of it. However, it was the general reactions of my friends toward this article which surprised me.  Many feel that these ten things are spot-on. A perfect representation of their lives.

And that's depressing.

Not that there's anything wrong with this article or the views of its author. I have, without a doubt, felt most of these things at one point or another. However, it is not my “normal.” My “normal” is a bit different and, dare I say, a bit more hopeful.

So, single friends, don't feel like these “10 Absolutely Heartbreaking Struggles” have to be your normal. Here are my thoughts on these struggles:

1. You are nobody's first priority.

If we're talking romantic-type relationships. Yep. You're absolutely right. We have to be the bread-winner and the domestic homemaker all rolled into one. Every household responsibility, every disappointing setback, every hard day at work falls on our own shoulders. And that's OK. It's more than OK. In being single for so long, I've come to recognize and understand what prioritizing really is—and that it doesn't really matter if I'm someone's first priority or not. Truth is, priorities shift and change as our circumstances do. While I may not be at the top of any lists, I can certainly put myself down as a priority on my own list as needed.

What's more, is that believing we are truly alone is ridiculous. There are friends and family members who—while worrying about their own families—still make time for us. That's pretty awesome. Who cares that we might be a little ways down on their lists of priorities? At least we made the cut.

Aaaaaand—bringing religion into it—I believe that we have a Savior and a Heavenly Father who always have us at the top of Their lists. To say that Jesus Christ and Heavenly Father have others to worry about before us is to place limitations on Their power and love. In scripture, the Savior has said, “Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.” While it may not seem that anyone is there or cares—that we're no one's first priority—I can guarantee that we are always first priority to Him.

2. Physical touch is a thing for other people.

I guess I don't really relate to this one. So—you want to touch and be touched. You know they make pets for that, right? And, if you're not the pet kind of person, there are vocations and volunteering opportunities where meaningful touch is common-place. In working with kids, sometimes I get more physical contact than I'd like. If you want to be touched (metaphorically and literally), then you need to go out and touch others too.

3. Jealousy is green and ugly and real.

This is the only item on the list that I couldn't fathom. Why would I be jealous of another's happiness? I think, in general, we—as humans—tend to see joy as a limited resource. It's not. Joy and love are eternal principles that perpetuate and grow. To say that I can't be happy because someone else is...well, that's a bit childish. Having something added to another's well of happiness doesn't diminish the happiness of my own. Quite the contrary—it should add to it. Try to be genuinely happy that others are happy. Life isn't a competition. Although we may experience life differently and at different stages, we're all in this together.

4. There's physical pain associated with being lonely.

Yes, there is. So, don't give yourself time to dwell on it. I've found that as I strive to fill my life with good and positive things, that my life becomes full of good and positive things. (See how that works?) There's no time to feel the pain of loneliness if life is lived fully.

5. Being the third wheel sucks.

Yes, it does. No argument here. It is awkward being a third or fifth or seventh wheel. BUT, awkward is in the eye of the beholder. Truth is, as long as my friends and family invite me to do things with them, I'll accept. If it's not weird for them, there's no reason it should feel weird for me. What about other people? What will they think of me? Honestly, most people are too preoccupied wondering about whether or not they come off as awkward to worry about if anyone else is awkward. It's as the saying goes, “Those who mind don't matter, and those who matter don't mind.” (Or is it the other way around.... Hmmm....)

6. Friendship isn't enough.

Wow. If the relationships offered through friends and family aren't enough, then maybe you need new friends and family. Or maybe you need to start being a better friend. Or daughter. Or sister. Or whatever. Newsflash: every relationship should be founded on principles of understanding, selflessness, and love. Maybe I've missed the memo about romantic relationships, but I imagine that they—truly—aren't much different than any other relationship. Love is love. And to miss out on the love of friends and family just because I'm single and think I deserve more?... Now, that would be a tragedy.

7. Everyone is part of a couple.

Meh. Maybe they are. But, like I said earlier, just because someone else is in a relationship doesn't mean that something has been taken away from me. And, guess what? Sometimes people in relationships aren't happy. I'd rather have a healthy relationship with myself than a volatile relationship with someone else. A miserable single person makes a miserable dating/marriage partner. A joyful, productive single person makes for a joyful and productive dating/marriage partner. Changing your relationship status doesn't change who you are. Not really.

8. The grass isn't greener.

Ok. So the article says that couples need to stop saying that they'd love to have some “alone time.” OK. Great. But let's take this advice and spin it around. The grass isn't greener. Since when has being in a relationship been the fix-all, cure-all to every ailment—emotional and otherwise? As single people, I think we sometimes over-do the romanticizing of what relationships actually are. By finding another person with whom to share a life, one's baggage doesn't magically disappear. Maybe I'm off the mark here, but it doesn't seem fair to me that it would be the job of a boyfriend—or a husband or whatever—to fix all of my problems. What about his problems? Is he allowed to have any?  Or maybe we should all hold out for the type of man whose sole purpose is to care for his girlfriend/wife.  Good idea.  In all seriousness, though, all relationships are a give and take. And it isn't always 50-50.  When you're single, you take care of yourself.  When you're in a relationship, sure, at times there's someone else to care for you.  But, there will also be days where you'll be required to carry your load and the load of another person.  (For more of my thoughts on the topic, re-read #7.)

9. This isn't a lifestyle choice.

Again, I'm in agreement. Sometimes we choose to be single. Sometimes we don't. Even if there are no “good” men left, I should still be holding out the hope that maybe, at least, there are a few of them. If I choose to be single, then that's my choice and I accept all the consequences to go with it. However, if I choose that I don't want to be single, then I better be doing all that I can to help myself find the relationship I want. Even if it means rejection and failure and going on some terribly awkward dates. Some of us have to sort through a few more frogs than others before we find our prince. That doesn't mean he's not there or doesn't exist. It just means he'll be appreciated all the more when he is finally found.

10. No one gets it.

Weeeeell, actually, there are a lot of people who get it. A lot. The expanse of human suffering is vast and deep. To say that no one understands what I'm going through is both selfish and statistically inaccurate. If I were to get religious on the topic—yet again—I would also like to point out that Jesus Christ, in suffering through the Atonement, knows exactly and perfectly what I'm going through. He felt the same thing in the same way. And, let's be honest, wouldn't a relationship with that kind of a person be much more fulfilling that any other? I know that the scriptures admonish us to seek the Kingdom of God before we seek for riches. Might I also submit that this advice also applies to relationships?

Seek first to build a relationship with Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ—and all else will be added in the Their time and in Their way. And whether or not we stay single becomes less and less important as we find that there is joy in life here and now.

Let's not waste our time focused on what “should have been” or what “should be.” Otherwise, we may look back on our lives and see nothing but wasted opportunities. Let's, instead, live to the fullest—today, capitalizing on all that is good in our lives now, as they are. Because that is one of the greatest skills one can learn, whether single or in a relationship.

What Matters Most

It's been a while since my last post.  For good reasons, though.  This school year has proved to be the most challenging yet.  It seems that every hypothetical "bad" situation that I studied as a university student decided to show up in my classroom all at once.

Of course, I might be a bit dramatic.  But, nonetheless, I've certainly had to pour my every waking moment into rising to the challenges I've been assigned to meet.  And I feel that I'm failing.  Miserably.

That being said, as I've struggled to meet those demands, I've realized something....  It doesn't matter as much as I used to think that it did.

As I write this, I think of my Gramies lying in her hospital bed.  We're getting ready to move her into hospice.  Yesterday, as she spoke with doctors and nurses, someone asked her what her job had been.  She answered by saying, "The best job there is.  I'm a grandma."  It was important.  It is important.  Being a grandma, that is.  Being a good one.  Gramies is an excellent grandmother, and I think she takes greater pride in that than in any other thing she has accomplished in her 88 years.

So, that matters.

I guess I've gotten caught up in trying to jump through hoops, make myself look good on paper, rather than actually being good and focusing on those things which actually matter.  It's like working, spinning my wheels, all without actually accomplishing anything of real importance.  It's like driving on the interstate--keeping my eye on the reflector poles rather than on the road ahead of me.

In a couple of minutes here, I'll be heading back to the hospital.  Maybe I'll take my violin or my singing voice.  I don't know.  But, one thing I do know, is that I'm ready to refocus myself on those things which actually matter.

Here's my list:

1. Children.  How many of society's issues would be solved if every child knew that they were genuinely loved?  Regardless of their outward appearance, talents, shortcomings, and report card scores?  What if every child grew up knowing that they are important?  What if every child grew up knowing that others are important too?  My students may not leave my classroom this year knowing long division, but--as God as my witness--I will do my utmost to teach them this.
2. Family and friends.  As a very wise Thomas S. Monson has said, "Never let a problem to be solve become more important than a person to be loved."  May I never again get so caught up in the day-to-day battles that I forget to love those around me and be aware of them.
3. My relationship with Jesus Christ.  I try to get along without being overly preach-y.  I believe that all people have to right to believe in whatever God they choose.  Or no god at all.  But, as is said in the Bible, "As for me...[I] will serve the Lord."  That being said, I can personally testify that an understanding of who Jesus Christ is, and understanding my place in His plan, is the most important thing.  As I reflect on it, I realize that everything in my life could align to go wrong--as I feel that it very well could be, but it doesn't matter.  Mortality is such a short time, as it is.  I can spend my time, as I said earlier, trying to make myself look good in all my day-to-day encounters.  OR I can spend my time coming to know Christ, trying to emulate the qualities He has, following His commandments, and actually becoming someone better than I am.  And then I can spend the rest of my time encouraging others to do the same.  That's important too.

...That's all.  That's my list.  In all my thinking, I can't come up with anything else that is of eternal importance.  In reality, the world doesn't have much to offer.  Houses, cars, food, jobs, vacations, movies, video games, music....  Yeah.  There are fun (and sometimes necessary) things to do and buy, but they fade and break and go out-of-style.  They only mean as much to me as the people with whom they're shared or the lessons I learn as a result.

If you get a minute, and you're the type of person who likes to pray, would you mind saying a prayer that I don't forget to stay focused on what's truly important?  I'll do the same for you.

Friends of Single Adults

It's been a year since I've started this blog. I thought I'd give it up after a month or two, but—turns out—writing is therapeutic. In honor of my accomplishment of sticking to something for more than a few months, here's a very super duper special post.... Actually, it's not super duper. Or super special. BUT, it is true to the name of the blog. I thought I would post some advice for those of you who don't know what it's like to be single for, well, foreeeeever. Basically, it's like watching your friends get picked-off, one-by-one, like in the Hunger Games....  Except, instead of dying, they're getting married.  I've lost many friends to their marriages, and I hate it.  So, I guess this is what I would recommend for them.  Here's my advice on how to be a good friend to a single adult, even if you're married.

How to be friends with a single adult:

• Don't forget to invite us to fun outings. For those who have families, it's easy to participate in fun, social outings. For those of us who don't have ready access to other people, our spontaneous outings tend to be solo outings to the movie theater. While it is fun to be alone, it's also nice to be invited and included.
• Remember us on holidays. Valentine's Day is the one that comes to mind for most. (I, personally, couldn't care less about such a senseless holiday.) However, if I were to be honest, a difficult holiday for me is Mother's Day. It's just a reminder of lost potential and not-to-be dreams. But getting a call on a day like that helps a lot.
• Don't remind us that we're single. When striking up a conversation with me, if your first question is, “How's your love life?” or “Are you dating anyone?”--yeah, you aren't getting an answer, at least not a polite one. And, should the time ever come that I decide to settle down, you will not be informed. On purpose. Because it's none of your [explicative] business whether or not I'm “even trying” to get married.
• Ask us for help. It's nice to be wanted, and it's nice to be needed. It's also nice to be recognized as a capable grown up who can contribute positively to relationships and society.
• Celebrate our successes with us. And I'm not talking “she's finally dating someone!” successes. I'm talking anything that's important to me. I could count, on one hand, the number of extended family members who have ever congratulated me on my accomplishments—or who have told me that they're proud of me. (Kind of pathetic if you consider that there are hundreds of people in my extended family.) While I know I shouldn't play favorites, my favorite family members are definitely those who actually show they care about me.
• Be willing to offer help. One of the times I truly envy those in marriage relationships is when I have to face an especially difficult challenge. I don't have anyone to go home to who will tell me everything will be OK. When it's time to pack up and move, it's all on me. When an appliance breaks down—me. Yardwork—me. When the dog is sick and throwing up—I'm in charge of cleanup. When I'm sick and throwing up—I'm in charge of cleanup. Even offering to help with little jobs helps a lot.
• Don't assume that we don't understand how to be adults. “When you're grown up and married, you'll understand what we're talking about.”....Heard it. A lot. Based on this logic, every person in the world who's married is of a mature and sound mind.... Right.... This is especially annoying logic when coming from someone several years younger than myself who hasn't experienced a fraction of the “adult” things which I have.
• Don't assume anything about us, really. Maybe we do want to be single. Maybe we don't. Maybe we're happy with our current situations in life. Maybe we're not. But, truth be told, it's not anyone's business but our own. I've participated in many conversations that include phrases like, “You're still single? Well, what's wrong with you?”...Because, clearly, it's only the sane people who get married—nope, no crazy people allowed. And only the selfish stay single. Way to feed into unfounded stereotypes. Please, leave me out of those stereotypes.
• Be encouraging. Not that a single person is constantly in need of validation, but kind words can positively fill an emotional tank. While you may have a significant other to remind you of how great you are, we single folks get to rely on ourselves for that. And, let's face it, me telling myself in the mirror that I'm looking good isn't nearly as potent as a niece telling me how pretty I am.  For those who are Mormon, especially continue to encourage us to keep the commandments of God--most single people my age, even those who used to be religious, no longer do.
• Don't try to set me up unless I ask you to or approve beforehand. Just because two people are single and of a similar age doesn't mean that they're going to get along. I have very specific tastes, as I'm sure everyone does, and I don't appreciate getting set up with people unknowingly. If I ask you to set me up with someone, it's because I trust you to be as picky as I am. If you insist on setting up your single friends, have a solid argument as to why the arrangement is worth the trouble.
• Check in on us every once in a while. “If I were to die in my sleep tonight, how long would it take for someone to notice that I'm gone?” The thought has crossed my mind before, particularly in the summertime when I'm not expected to be anywhere. My next thought is usually, “I sure hope my dogs would find something to eat besides me.” Check in on your single friends so that our dogs don't have to eat our faces. Thanks.

So, that's my list this time around. Happy blog anniversary!

Poetry

I had a professor in college who appreciated poetry more than any other person I've ever met.  He said that poetry is "the best words in the best order."  Not saying I'm a natural Frost, Dickinson, or Hughes, but I have written a few poems in my day.  I'm not sure why, but I felt like I should post some of them today.  So--here they are.  Disclaimer:  Poetry analysts can shove their criticisms up their butts.  I already told you I'm not a professional.

The Process

What do you do when you feel out of place,

like the seasons have left you behind?
That there are blessings deserved and promises made,
But some that you still can't quite find?
Postponing and patience and waiting,
the lessons you thought you had learned
are present and ever reminding
of some things which you thought you had earned.

What do you do when the challenge or choice

is something you don't understand?

When you don't feel the guidance or loving support,
Yet you've prayed and done all that you can?
Confusing and empty and lonely,
Wandering around as one mentally blind.
Is it righteous to act without knowing
the consequences or results you might find?


What do you do when you're striving
to serve and to make the world right?
When your back, from the pressure, is breaking
and you're running out of that internal light.
Blessings and justice and mercy,
knocked off balance like an out-of-tune song.
Beginning to consider telling the Lord how
His purposes and placements are wrong.


Shallow is the heart without trouble.
Selfish is the untested soul.
It's best that we live and face trial
as the Carpenter builds to make whole.
Breaking and tearing and mending,
with His skillful and crucified hand.
And so the faithful will let Him continue,
until they've become as “I am.”

Attributed to Him
I’ve never tried to move a mountain,
Never tried to calm the sea,
But I have tried to move myself
And calm the storms in me.


For life and time have come to show
That I don’t always get my way,
But patience shows that there’s a purpose
When I wait and grow and pray.


It’s obedience that keeps me happy
Knowledge that sets me free
It’s virtue that guides my choices
To be who He needs me to be.


It’s faith that keeps me moving
And it’s charity that heals.
It’s diligence to walk His footsteps
To feel a part of what He feels.


I’m not saying that I’m perfect
Or never doubted what I know
But that hope that creates miracles
Rests deeply in my soul.


So when it’s time to move a mountain
Or it’s time to calm the sea
He’ll be there to help me go and do
In the strength of humility.


The Widow's Gift
My Master once spoke of a widow among
All the riches and wealth of the world.
And she being humble and lowly in heart
O’er a mite all her fingers were curled.
Her gift didn’t shine as brightly
As the silver and gold on the shrine
Yet inside she whispered and knew she was right,
“What I have to give is all mine.”
She cast in the mite and glided away
Lest the crowd make a mock of her giving
But He who sees all was impressed by the coin
A payment of true wealth and living.
And so we see that the items of worth
Are neither the gold nor the mite.
The treasures of value, the widow, her heart,
Are the most precious gifts in His sight.


Fly
He asked me to go
He asked me to fly,
to spread my wings
and take the sky.


I falter to start,
I imagine I'll fail,
locked in myself,
my self-imposed jail.


I turn to the Word,
the source of all light,
the source of all peace,
the source of all right.


"Consider the lilies,"
His voice enters in,
"I am thy source,
thy guide, and thy wind."


"I made the sparrow,
and I know its fall.
Art thou not greater?
The greatest of all?"


I think on the pages,
those things which I feel.
He said it is so.
It has to be real.


He knows His creations,
and He cannot lie.
I gather myself.
I'm ready to fly.

What I Want

I was given a homework assignment, but before I tell you about it, I think we should probably go over some basic background information. Otherwise, the scenario might not make much sense.

In the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, we have church jobs. They're called “callings.” (And, by the way, no one gets paid for their callings. All service is voluntary, even for the Prophet and Apostles in Salt Lake.) My current calling is First Counselor in the Relief Society—meaning that I have to assist the President of the Relief Society in seeing to all the spiritual and physical needs of the women in our congregation. (We call our congregations “wards” or “branches,” by the way. Mormon jargon—we have a lot of it.) I've had other callings too—Sunday school teacher, missionary, organist, activity committee, Institute council (a group for college kids), and... a lot. I've had a lot of different callings. SO, I can say—with absolute certainty—that each calling gives a person certain responsibilities within the ward/branch/congregation; and with all those responsibilities comes inspiration—to act and do and say and feel things I otherwise wouldn't. I especially felt this as a missionary when I, somehow, knew that I was saying and doing the things that Christ Himself would have done or said—and I did it in Spanish, a language I didn't speak before then. It's really an incredible experience to reside in a calling and, somehow, know how best to serve others. It's like having a sixth sense, really.

Now that we have the background information out of the way, I feel like I can get to the story. SO, last Sunday, I was in Church in Cheyenne—not my assigned ward/branch/congregation in Greeley, but it's where I grew up, so I feel just fine going there for Church from time to time. After Sacrament Meeting (erm... Communion), I followed the lines of people heading out of the Chapel and on to the Sunday school classrooms. Before I got far, the Bishop (big-wig in charge of the ward/branch/congregation) pulled me aside and said he'd want to talk with me later.... Kind of strange, especially considering that I'm not a member of that ward. So, technically, this Bishop shouldn't have to worry about me—that's for my local Bishop to do.

Anyway, because this Bishop happens to be a family friend, I agreed to speak with him. We chit-chatted about this-and-that. I filled him in on what I've been up to. Chipping away at a Master's Degree. Working as a fourth grade teacher. Trying to fulfill the duties within my own Church calling. My worry over the Sisters in my local ward who should be, but aren't, coming to Church. And then we had a conversation that, I feel, was inspired. As a Bishop, I felt it was entirely appropriate for this family friend to be asking these sorts of questions. It was what I needed to hear. I share a few insights from this dialogue with you, just in case you need to learn the same lessons that I'm learning right now.

During the course of the conversation, Bishop asked me some questions (which I'll share soon). I didn't have an answer for a lot of these questions—I thought I did, but I didn't. I feel that when I answer them, I'll be a much more put-together person. (Always room for improvement, right?) And then I got my homework assignment (which I'll also share soon).

OK, to paraphrase, here are some of the questions that came up during our chat:

• What are all of the things that are weighing on your mind? I'd say one thing. The follow-up question would always be, “And what else?” We went through all of the stresses I'm feeling right now (which aren't many, considering it's still summer vacation), until I couldn't think of any more immediately. But he persisted, “What else?” I had to think and acknowledge all of those pesky back-burner issues that I choose to keep buried and not acknowledge. Those were the issues we talked about the most, because those were the issues to which I had given the least amount of thought—they were the stresses that I allowed to fester until they became a negative part of me without me even knowing.
• What do you want? I started spouting off my goals. (Remember those?) That wasn't answering the question, though. Specificity is key here. I tried to answer with things like “I want to move back to Cheyenne someday.”... Yeah. That wasn't good enough. I needed to know which neighborhood. What the house should look like. In the case of a potential spouse, the list I'd made there didn't hold up either. “A sense of humor” wasn't good enough. I needed to be able to pin-point what kind of sense of humor. What kind of jokes would he like? Would he leave you roses around the house? Does he cook? What does he cook? I failed miserably. I realized that, when it comes down to the nuts and bolts, I have no idea what I want. And, if I don't know what I want, how can I look for it? It led us into the next question:
• What do you pray about? How specific are your prayers? Again, I thought I had this one covered, but I didn't. Again, my prayers weren't specific enough. For as long as I can remember, all I've been praying for—in regards to myself—is that I'll be an effective instrument in the Lord's hands in whatever position in which He needs me to be. I pray to be effective in my calling and sensitive to the needs of those around me. I pray for my students by name, that I'll be aware of and meet their needs. I pray for my family and friends by name and in their needs. In all areas, though, I realized I could still be more specific. I was also instructed to include myself in my prayers, because it's not selfish. (Still trying to wrap my head around that one.)
• When will you let the Lord help you with your plans? I was told that I'm going 1,000 miles and hour trying to do what the Lord has asked of me. (Not a bad thing.) Yet, because I'm focusing only on those aspects of my life, the rest of my needs and wants are unmet. I wasn't told to stop doing anything differently, because doing what I'm doing is not a bad thing. HOWEVER, as mentioned above, I haven't fully entrusted the Lord to make up the difference for those things for which I haven't had time. I haven't asked Him to meet the demands of my needs and wants. “Ask, and you shall receive,” after all.  Of course, first, I have to figure out what I want.  Exactly what I want.
• What are the fears keeping you from what you want? What are you going to do about them? We shouldn't discredit out fears—we should acknowledge them, but then we need to have the faith to confront them, even if the outcomes might be frightening in and of themselves.
  
  

What do you think? Can you answer these questions? Be honest.

Seeing that I still need a little nudge in the right direction, Bishop gave me the following assignment:

• Decide what you want for yourself. Think of different categories—future house, vacations, education, jobs, recreational activities, Mr. Right, kids, etc.—and write down specifically what you expect and want in each of those categories. (Seriously—super specific—down to what color you want the blinds in the dining room to be.  The exact height and weight of hypothetical Mr. Right.  Not just that you want to go on vacation somewhere--but when you'll go and what you'll do when you're there.) The sky's the limit. Even write down those things you think are silly or non-essential. Don't discredit anything—if it comes to mind and you want it, put it on the list. The more specific, the better. Don't feel like you're being selfish in any of these things that you want—write it all down!

So, I'm in the process of trying to piece that together. I'll tell you what, it's kind of tricky. I've never thought about what I want in such depth. I'm struggling with it. It's transitioning, I suppose, from the world of “that would be nice, but it's so unrealistic” to the reality of “I wonder how I can make this happen.” The more I write down these things that I want, the more undeserving I feel of them, but I guess that's why Bishop told me not to discredit anything—write it all down regardless.

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do with my list when it's finished, but I'll be sure to let you know.

You know, just in case you need to make some lists too.

A Letter to My Nieces

Last week, I sat by one of my favorite people in the world during church. I'd tell you her name and show you a picture of how beautiful she is, but she's too special. She's my niece. She's going to be in the first grade next year. She loves swimming, candy, dogs, her brothers, and the Hulk.

She also likes her world to be compartmentalized, organized in the way things are “supposed” to be.

Before Church began, she nudged me and initiated a conversation we've had several times over the past year or so.

“Hey, Aunt Nicole.”

“Yes, Niece?”

“Are you married yet?”

“No, Niece.”

“Oh.... Did you find your husband, though?”

“No, Niece, I haven't.”

“Oh.... Maybe you should do that.”

“All right, Niece. I'll do that for you.”

Now, this isn't the first time we've gone through those motions, and I suspect it won't be the last. I know, because I used to be a lot like that. Trying to make sense of the world through the scope of an optimistic wannabe Disney princess. That's why I don't hold any animosity towards such an honest conversationalist. However, I would hope that my niece—all of my nieces, in fact—won't be met with terrible disappointment in the case that all their dreams don't come true in the ways they want.

So, nieces, here's a letter from me to you—maybe something you'll read when you're older. Just in case you're meant to learn some of the lessons that I've had to learn.

Here goes:

Dear Niece,

I hope you know how much I love you. You are amazing. I'm fairly certain the sun only wakes up every morning just so it can shine on you. You are everything to this family, and you are everything to me. I would never trade places with another person, because I would never give up the job of being your Auntie.

So, Niece, I'm a little further along this road of life than you. That doesn't mean I'm smarter or better, it just means I've maybe encountered a few things that you haven't yet. Just in case you do, I want you to remember these few things:

• There's no such thing as “supposed to be.” I was supposed to have done a lot of things by now. I'm supposed to be a world-renowned archaeologist. Or, at the very least, I'm supposed to have a show on the Travel Channel that pays for expensive vacations. (Thanks a lot, Samantha Brown for giving me unrealistic expectations.) I was also supposed to, believe it or not, be married about five years ago. I'm supposed to be a mom. But, of course, none of that happened, and who's to say that it will? “Supposed to be” doesn't happen very often, and that's OK. Because, as long as we are faithful to ourselves and the promises we make, “supposed to be” will always be replaced with something better than we could have thought up for ourselves. Don't get discouraged if something doesn't happen how, where, or when you expect it to. Keep going, be flexible, especially if your “happily ever after” doesn't include a castle and a prince. And remember that it takes a little pressure to make a diamond.
• Never wait to be rescued. Sometimes when things don't work out the way we want, it's easy to want to give up. It's easy to wish for someone else to save us from our problems or our bad feelings. I've felt that way too. Remember, though, that help might not come. But don't panic. You are a part of my family, so I know you were born strong. You have it in you to reach deeply, dig in your heels, and face your sorrows head-on. Don't ever wait around for someone else. Keep moving, keep living, and keep helping others as you do. Your life won't wait for you to live it, so don't you wait to live your life. Don't wait for happy to happen, because it's not a destination. Be happy along the journey, and you'll have no need of rescuing at all.
• Learn what you love. Do what you love. Of course, you'll need to make sure you make time for the good things in life. Keep everything in balance as best as you can. Find out what you enjoy doing, even if it's something strange or scary. (But, please, be safe about it.) Don't base your talents and hobbies off of what others think is cool. Make up your own mind about what's “cool” and what isn't. Use those talents and hobbies to make your life better. Use them to make others' lives better too. Learn how to work—hopefully using some of those skills you enjoy. Turn your passions into something positive—love your work. Work hard to earn all those good things you want for yourself. However, also learn when it's time to put work away and relax. Never stop doing those things you love.
• Be a potato, not an egg. Bad things happen to everyone. Everyone. As much as I don't want it for you, you'll have to deal with a lot of heart-ache. There's so much that can happen—and it should—like fighting with a friend, losing a beloved pet, or struggling with an ill-tempered teacher who just won't give you a better grade no matter how hard you try. You'll probably break up with a boyfriend or two. And that's the easy stuff. My advice is this, and it's kind of silly: be a potato. Not an egg. Here's why. When boiled, eggs get hard. Potatoes get soft. Niece, don't get hard. Don't let boiling circumstances make you angry or bitter or blaming. Instead, let them make you soft and humble. Let them make you teachable and kind and and understanding and forgiving. Especially forgiving. While others might call you weak, remember that some of the strongest people are also the most meek.
• Love with all your heart. The problem with loving too much is that it sometimes hurts when that love isn't reciprocated. Love much anyway. And I'm not just talking about a hypothetical prince charming either. I'm talking about anyone and everyone with whom you choose to spend your time. Choose to love them. You don't have to like everyone, but you should try to love them. Don't judge too harshly. (I wish I would've learned that a lot sooner that I did... still working on it.) If you get the chance, serve a mission. Your capacity to love others will grow, and you and they will be blessed for it. Love yourself too. Never look down on yourself. Never think you need to be more beautiful or smarter or funnier or “better” to get someone's attention. You don't have to compete—there's enough love to go around. Let that love start with you and spread.
• Remember that you're a princess and act accordingly. This is the most important part. You are a princess, and not the fairy tale kind. The real kind. You are a daughter of Heavenly Father who created you, loves you, and put you where you are for a reason. Your circumstances may change. They can get better. They can get worse, but—through it all—you need to remember who you are and remember your potential. A princess is inherently confident in her value, and she doesn't need to get others' approval to know that she's special. Keep the commandments. Live as God would have you live, and you'll be happy now, and you'll have your happily ever after too.

And, Niece, never forget that you are always welcome at my house for glow-stick dance parties.

Love you as big as the sky,

Me

Stress Relief (No Alcohol Needed)

School's out! I'm one week into summer already, a week that's gone by in a blur. When I was a kid, summers didn't fade in and out so quickly. It seemed there were countless hours of me staring at the ceiling or the wall or the potato bug (or roly-poly if you prefer) crawling along the sidewalk. Summers were slow and lazy. Not a care in the world.

Nowadays. Slow and lazy? Not a care in the world? That sounds nice. As a grown-up, I've found that there's seldom—if ever—a day where nothing needs doing. I guess the days of “wake up, play video games, eat, play outside, take a nap, and repeat” are done. And just when I think I've got a day to be slow and lazy, I remember that I have to pay the bills and turn in that online assignment and—oh yeah—I still need to go get a loan to buy a new-to-me car. And who could forget that lawn that still hasn't learned to mow itself?... Oh well. Maybe there'll be time for slow and lazy tomorrow. Maybe I'll even sleep in past 7 A.M.!

I bring this up for several reasons. First, life is busy. Life is doing. Life is becoming. Life doesn't pause itself to let us finish our [insert Netflix show] marathons. Life is stressful! It was designed to be that way. (Keep this in mind. We'll be coming back to this idea later.)

Here's the other reason I bring this up: Before work let out for the summer, I had an interesting conversation with a coworker. He knew that I was a Mormon (the more correct term being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints) and he sometimes had questions for me—not so much about doctrine, but about my lifestyle. PS—I would much rather have my friends as me about the Church than do an internet search about it. I appreciate that he would consult with me and not some whack-a-doodle who thinks they know a lot about what I believe.

Anyway—where were we? Oh, right. Several coworkers were going to get together for retirement party and drinks that evening, and he wanted to know if I'd be joining them. I said, “Yes, I'll go to support those who are retiring. But I won't drink.”

He paused, “So, wait. You don't drink?”

I nodded, “I don't drink. Never have. Never will.... Unless cough syrup counts, then I have. I've probably accidentally swallowed SCOPE before too.”

“OK, so why don't you drink?” he asked.

I could have gone into a long discussion about the Word of Wisdom, but I didn't. Instead, I asked another question in return, “Why would I drink alcohol?”

He thought about it and responded, “It's stress relief. If you don't drink, what do you do when you get stressed?”

I had to paused and think about this one. I shrugged and said, “I must not get stressed.”

That's not entirely true, of course. Everyone feels the stress of life at some point. (If not, they aren't living life correctly, and maybe they're on the drugs.) I thought about that a lot over the course of the next couple of weeks. How do I deal with stress when alcohol isn't an option?

One more quick tangent: I'm not saying that drinking alcohol makes someone a bad person, nor am I saying that I'm somehow magically better than everyone who drinks because I choose not to. One thing I hope we understand before I go on is that most Mormons don't secretly judge others who live differently than we do. At the very heart of our doctrine is that people have the right to choose how to live their lives—and accept the consequences. I think people have every right to choose to drink—and accept the consequences which accompany that choice—just as I have the right to choose not to drink.

I choose to deal with my stress in more productive ways than going to the bottle. Even though those slow and lazy days are gone, I still feel rested, composed, in control, and—here's the best part—joyful. Why not choose to live a joyful life, in spite of day to day business? Here's how I deal with my stress:

• What she says: TED talk on stress
• Deal with whatever is causing the stress. Sometimes we have responsibilities which cause us stress. Take taxes, for example. There's no getting around it, so I face the problem head-on. Fine, government. You think you need an entire paycheck of mine? Take it. Don't mind me over here eating Ramen noodles for the next six months. What about that 10-page-paper that's due? Just do it! Maybe even try to learn something in the process. That's the point, isn't it? If a situation shouldn't be avoided, then don't avoid it. Manage it. Control it. Be done with it.
• Enjoy the moment. Of course, stress can come from good things too. A family vacation. Looking forward to going on that date (not that I know what that feels like anymore). The new baby that was born into them family. When I experience these good stressors, I forget about the yesterdays and the tomorrows—I leave work at work. I do my best to sit back and let the moment wash over me. I try to memorize the feelings, to let them crystallize deep inside me. It's like soaking up sunshine but for the soul. Goodness knows I'll need to remember those moments when the bad stress rolls around again.
• Exercise. When I'm feeling especially anxious, I have to exercise. Running. Lifting weights. Punching a pillow. Yoga. Numerous scientific studies back up my thoughts here. Exercise relieves stress. I feel better, and I certainly look better.
• Deep breathing. I'm one of those people who internalizes stress. Sometimes my body is under stress, and I don't even realize it. Every once in a while I'll wake up from a deep sleep with knots in my stomach, heart pounding, and worrisome thoughts whirring around in my head. When this happens, I sit up and take deep breaths. In for 10. Out for 10. In for 15. Out for 15. I remind myself that I am in charge of my emotions—my emotions are not in charge of me. Deep breathing helps me to calm myself immediately.
• Keep it in perspective. When my problems seem too big for me to overcome, I try to remember that those stresses I have now will not be the same stresses I'll have in a week. Or a month. Or a year. Or a decade. Or an eternity. Yeah, that ER bill was a monster, but I doubt I'll be telling the nieces and nephews stories about it years down the road.
• Learn to do something new. Stress is a body's way to prepare for action. To prepare to do something. When I have stress in abundance, I use that spare energy to learn to do things. I learn a new song for the piano, I cook something new, I sew, I decorate, I paint, I landscape, I write a book, I actually try some of those weird make-up and hair tutorials that plague YouTube. Extra stress/energy is a gift, not a curse.
• Good music. I'll leave it up to you, the reader, to decide what “good” music sounds like. Music is awesome in helping to relieve stress.
• Sleep. Eight hours a night! There really is something to that “early to bed, early to rise” stuff. A small nap every now and again is another great way to recharge, reset, and reattempt to solve problems.
• Think of someone else. I've found that the most miserable moments of my life have also been the most selfish moments of my life. By thinking of others, one is able to lay down their own burdens—if only for a moment—and help another to carry theirs. It's like my favorite Hindu proverb: Help thy brother's (or sister's) boat across, and—lo—thine own has reached the shore.”
• Call Mom. I read an article once that examined the stress in teenage girls and further searched to find the best practices for relieving that stress. The results? Talking to their mothers relieved stress more than any other practice. There have been many times when I've called to vent to my mom—making sure that I'm totally calm and collected before I call her. I don't know how she does it, but sometimes all she has to say is, “Hello, I was just thinking about you,” and the floodgates open. I sob uncontrollably, and she's probably left wondering what's going on. It's a natural physical reaction, folks. Sorry, moms, but the need to vent our stress to you is scientifically supported.
• Be still. This is a lost art. How many of us can, honestly, sit and meditate for five minutes? Ten minutes? Twenty minutes? What's the rush? Take time to consider yourself, your circumstances. Take time to be still and be aware. Take time to ponder. Take time to reflect on improvement. Take time to appreciate the beautiful. Be still.
• Pray. This is another lost art, unfortunately. My greatest strength comes through prayer. I pray in the morning, in the evening, and about any other time I feel like it. I pray out loud in private and in my heart in public. Here's why: I believe that God is not some intangible being who happens to overlook the Earth and give us “thou shalts” and “thou shalt nots.” (That's weird and goes against the scientist in me.) I believe God is a Father, a perfect one, who is available to me on a personal level. Just as I can call up my dad in Wyoming, I can “call up” my Heavenly Father. I can share my joys and my struggles. I can ask for help. I can ask for strength. I can ask for perspective or understanding. And, you know what? My prayers are answered. It doesn't always happen the way I want or expect, but it happens. Amidst it all—whether good or bad stress—I find immense stability in recognizing that I am never alone, that I have a Heavenly Father who loves me, guides me, and walks beside me through every challenge.

So, there you have it. How I deal with stress without alcohol.

Priorities, Focus, and... hey, did I start the dish washer yet?

It's almost summer. I can tell by the significant increase in my classroom's decibel levels. Having the kids to remind me every three minutes (not exaggerating) that it's almost summer is also a strong indicator of the coming season.

And there's weeds. And the lawn (that apparently needs to be watered and mowed this year too).

Anyway, back to school. I find that two-thirds of my day is spent playing a game similar to whack-a-mole, but without the mallet: I run from student to student trying to calm them down, get them settled and working, only to find that five others have gotten off task. If there were a “most played” list of the phrases I've used today, they'd probably be: “Time to focus.” “What should you be doing right now?” “I can see that you're [insert kid shenanigans here]. A better choice would be to follow my directions.”

Kids these days. Heaven knows I'll be missing them in a few weeks.

Anyway—let's refocus here.

After work today, I had to make a quick trip to WalMart to buy the ingredients to make some birthday cupcakes. (Which didn't turn out quite as cute and tasty as I was hoping—sorry Sis.) That was it. Cupcake ingredients and then leave. But, wouldn't you know it? WalMart's garden center has really cute flowers. It was really hard not to walk by and at least contemplate which plants I would definitely have to go back and buy—oh—and there's patio furniture that would go great with my soon-to-be-built patio. (But, let's be honest, that furniture is probably going to end up being spray-painted pallets. DIY project. Nailed it.)

Focus. Focus.

All right. So I just needed cupcake ingredients. But then I saw the S'more flavored cotton candy. That's right. S'more flavored cotton candy. It took a couple of minutes of bantering back and forth between my adult self and my inner-child before I got distracted by something else—probably some lady walking around with a chihuahua. WalMart really does have it all.

So I put the cotton candy down (keeping in mind that just because my inner-child is 500 lbs and cavity-ridden doesn't mean I need to be too). I go to check out. And then I check something (erm, someone) else instead—I guess attractive people shop at WalMart too. Who knew? So, I'm walking to the “check-out” line trying to avert my eyes and not look stupid, wondering if he'd consider getting baptized into the Mormon church so that I could—you know—keep him forever and ever. Then, I chastised myself for being creepy. Oh man, I'm such a weirdo. (I don't think he saw me though—deep breath. Crisis avoided.) Just in and out—cupcake ingredients. That's it.

Long story short, turns out that telling my kids to “focus” or constantly asking them what they should be doing are comments I should be making to myself. With so many distractions, it can be hard at times.

It reminds me of playing softball as an itty-bitty thing. Dad was the coach. I wasn't the best player on the team, not by a long shot. But, I do remember a lot of the pointers Dad gave me. Choke up on the bat. Don't throw the bat. What are you doing—I thought I told you not to throw the bat. Don't cover your face with the mitt. Don't catch the ball with your hand—use the mitt. Stop dancing in the dugout, we need you at left field. Keep your eye on the ball.

That's what I want to talk about. Don't get distracted by the fact that someone just threw a ball that could hit you in the face. Don't get distracted by the other team shouting, “Eh, batter, batter, batter, batter. Eh, batter, batter, batter-- Swing!” Don't get distracted by the screaming fans (AKA, Mom). Keep your eye on the ball. The metaphorical ball, that is.

For me, personally, I find it difficult to get distracted by what could be categorized as “bad” things. However, I do find it easy to get distracted by “good” things—like the garden center, S'more flavored cotton candy, and the one attractive person who shopped at WalMart today. Good distractions.

But what should be my focus? I know that all of us have goals. I doubt very many of us wake up in the morning in hopes that we don't accomplish anything ever. (There's a thought for you—if your goal is to remain unaccomplished, and you accomplish that goal, then did you really accomplish your goal of unaccomplishment?... Don't think about it too much. Your head might hurt.)

Recently, I've found that a lot of my distractions come from work. From yard-work. From cleaning up after my butt-face/dog who thinks throwing-up is fun sometimes. (Actually I think he ate something that made him sick. But still.) Distractions from wanting to practice my music, my sewing, my running, my writing. Distractions from Master's credits. Distractions from politics and getting way more worked up over unimportant Facebook posts than I should.

So I've asked myself: What's your goal here? If you could only accomplish one thing today, what would it be?

Well—I've certainly gotten better at prioritizing since asking myself that question on a daily basis. It's helped me to put my priorities where my heart is. And my heart is so much happier when my priorities are aligned with it.

Of course, friends, you probably have already guessed that priority number one is my relationship with God, or my Spiritual health. As tempting as it is to get distracted by Netflix or pruning those lilac bushes, I know that those tasks should only be accomplished after reading my scriptures or praying or, at the very least, taking a moment to reflect on my own progress in following Jesus Christ.

Nurturing family and friend relationships fall in line. As do caring for those who rely on me—including but not limited to the butt-face dog.

Can you imagine how much better life would be for us—even as a society—if all of us took the time to prioritize? To not get distracted by unimportant things? Surely we'd be less interested in standing in line to get the latest [insert super cool gizmo here]--we'd be too busy doing things that matter. Things of substance and lasting importance.

So—ask yourself: If I could only accomplish one thing today, what would it be? And if you're not doing it—start. Don't get distracted. Focus. Keep your eye on the ball. I'll try to do the same.

Assuming I don't run into any S'more flavored cotton candy. Then, I might have a momentary priority shift.

Easter

I've found that I'm more likely to blog when I'm irritated about something. I realize that we live in a world that's already obnoxious in shoving negativity down our throats that it hardly makes sense (well, actually it makes no sense at all) for me to be throwing fuel onto that fire.

But I'm irritated about something, and we need to talk about it. It's an irritation caused by those who are, or at least claim to be, Christian. I include those belonging to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) as Christian, because—quite frankly—we profess that Jesus Christ is the Son of God and Savior of mankind. Last I checked, that's Christianity.

Anyway.

As the snow falls outside, it's hard to believe that Easter is only a week away—and it came later this year, so I was really hoping for that magical “springy-bunnies and chicks frolicking in green fields” Easter this year. Maybe the weather will cooperate next week, but probably not. Not pessimism, just the reality of living in the Rocky Mountains.

My annoyance isn't caused by the weather. It's caused by, well, hypocrisy. At least the weather knows what it is—April always comes accompanied with snow, and it doesn't profess to be anything different. People, though—even and especially Christians—tend to be a different story. Myself included, but I'm trying really, really hard to remedy that.

Truth is, I'm a little fed up, in general, with the way terms and words are used nowadays. Words flow from our mouths, from the television, from the lyrics of our music. Our words are spoken, printed, and digitalized, but I often wonder if those words mean anything. We can say we're Christian, but what does that really mean? Especially during this time of Easter—what should our profession of Christianity during Easter mean? And shouldn't a Christian's celebration of Easter mean a little more to them than it would to a non-Christian celebrating Easter?

You see, we've commercialized our holidays. It doesn't bother me so much on Thanksgiving or Halloween or Independence Day. These are, of course, secular holidays—maybe not in origin, but they certainly are now. Naturally, I'm not going to get all in a tizzy when we treat a secular holiday as a secular invention. If it looks like a duck, walks like a duck, talks like a duck, and smells like a duck, it's probably a duck. (Except for the talking part. Ducks don't talk.) PS—Don't forget Mother's Day. It's coming up too.

Then there's Christmas and Easter. I'm not saying Christmas and Easter shouldn't involve Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny. I'm not saying kids shouldn't be introduced to Rudolph or Easter egg hunts. These are traditions which bring families together, which is at the very core of Christian values. What I am saying, is that there are some stark contrasts between the religious celebration of Christmas and Easter and the secular celebrations of Christmas and Easter. What I am saying is that far too many of us “Christians” are Christian by tradition only.

I do not hold any non-Christian people at fault for hypocrisy in Easter or Christmas celebration. I would never expect my Hindu or Muslim or Buddhist friends to revere my religious holidays. If they want to take part and celebrate—cool. But I would, in no way, expect them to worship Christ, which is what the holidays are supposed to be about.

Now, Christians. That's a different story. We do worship Christ. We're supposed to. We do believe that he was born, that He lived a perfect life, that He atoned for our sins, that He rose from the dead. Explanation of “how” aside, we do believe that, don't we? So how is it that going to Church only on Christmas and/or Easter is acceptable? How is it that participating in Lent (ps—I didn't even know what that was until about two years ago) is enough to demonstrate our believe in Jesus Christ? How is listening to a couple of sermons—and then blatantly disavowing those teachings during the rest of the year—revering Christ?

What is more important: 1) buying spiffy Easter outfits to impress everyone at Church? 2) gorging ourselves on Reese's peanut butter eggs (which are, somehow, waaaaay better than the cup kind)? 3) patting ourselves on the back for dutifully attending church twice a year—adherence to actual church doctrine optional? OR 4) living a Christ-like life, observing loyalty to Him, and doing our utmost to keep His commandments all of the time, because we love Him?

Hint: The correct answer is number four. (Number two is a close second, assuming your gall-bladder can handle that kind of abuse..... Yes, I'm still not over that ball-bladder thing either.)

So, yeah. If you're that kind of hypocrite,... you suck.... (Myself included, at times.) The good news, though, is this: Easter happened. I would hope that all of us take the time to read the Biblical account of that event. Of Christ's Atonement. Of His trials before the Jews and then the Romans. Of His crucifixion. Of His Resurrection. Of His invitation to us to follow Him, to repent and receive forgiveness, to find new life and new purpose as we do so. If we've been less than valiant in our adherence to true Christianity, we can change that—rather, He can change that. If we let Him.

I know that we live in a time where I may offend some in saying, but I know that Jesus is the Christ. He is who he said He was. His is not a Gospel of inactivity, but a Gospel where His disciples are commanded to actively and purposefully emulate His teachings everyday, even if it's inconvenient or politically incorrect. I know that as we strive to do as much as we can to follow Him—the Resurrected Lord—we will find peace in this world and everlasting life in the world to come. Because that's what Easter is all about.

Dating Double Standard

I'm at an awkward impasse in my life. It's a situation in which more people find themselves than you'd think. I hate this phase—never have liked it much in the past, and I definitely don't like it much now. You see, I just finished reading a book (Words of Radiance) that has consumed most, if not all, of my free time for the better part of a week. And now I have all this free time that I feel should be spent reading more. But I don't want to start a new book, because that would be like cheating on the old book. And, let's face it, no book is going to be as good as the one I just finished. (They never are.) ANNNND I figure I might as well reread the same book again in case I missed a few words.... Like I said. Awkward impasse.

Yeah. I'm at that inconvenient interval until I decide to either a) start a new hobby, b) read another book, c) read the same book again, d) write a book of my own, e) dress up my dogs in medieval costumes and re-enact important European historical events..... OK, so there are a lot of things I could be doing. But, really, I just want to know if Kaladin and Dalinar are going to be able to reunite the Knights Radiants and save Roshar before the Everstorm destroys everything.... (Feel free to read above mentioned book to understand what I just said.) Blasted series books.

Anyway, now that I'm done with reading, I can write about something that's been mulling over in my mind. It has to do with double standards and –dare I say—hypocrisy. (Which, if you think about it, they're pretty much the same thing.)

I want to talk about the criticism and judgment thrown at those of us who are single by those in our lives who think we should not be. (Sorry—didn't realize our relationship statuses were so burdensome in your day-to-day activities. We'll get on that right away so that you can sleep well at night.)

We've heard it all, my single friends and I: “You just don't want it.” “You're not trying hard enough.” “You need to make yourself more available.” “You need to move someplace where there are more people your age. You're not doing much where you're at anyway.” “You're too picky.”

That's the one I want to talk about. “You're too picky.”

During the course of my teenage years, I heard numerous discourses and attended many Sunday school classes where I was told how great I was. Not just me. All of us—girls in particular. Contrary to popular belief, women in the Mormon religion are actually revered and highly respected. Yep. We're that cool, and all we had to do was be born with two “x” chromosomes.

We were told to set our expectations high, especially when it came to choosing a future companion. Many, many times we were told to make lists, set goals. One list we made included qualities we expected in our future spouses: Upon conclusion of the list, we were advised to develop those same qualities within ourselves—be the person we expected a husband to be. We were told to never settle for anything less. I'm sure my list looked something like this:

1. returned missionary
2. tall
3. super hot
4. no, seriously, super super hot
5. like movie star hot
6. rich
7. funny
8. likes kids
9. good cook
10. athletic
11. musical
12. artistic
13. strong
14. good at shooting guns
15. smart
16. h-o-t

And now—ten years later—I'm being told that I'm too picky. Well, let me tell you, based on the list I made when I was 14, yep. I'm too picky. I would say my list is not only a bit vapid, but it's also a tad unrealistic as far as expectations go. However, my list has changed a bit since then. In many ways, my expectations have been re-routed to the “this would be nice” list, rather than staying put on my “must have” list. Unfortunately, though, my added years of life, experience, and learning have actually raised my bar. Nowadays, the list looks a bit more like this:

1. has a personal relationship with Jesus Christ
2. honors his Priesthood
3. has a desire to be sealed/married in a temple
4. honors me and respects me—will treat me as an equal
5. will put his whole focus into being a worthy father
6. develops his specific skill sets to improve his life and the lives of others
7. is kind
8. is loyal
9. is honorable and courageous in upholding that honor
10. has integrity
11. is not easily tempted
12. is not easily angered
13. is capable of caring for himself and others (financially, emotionally, physically, etc.)
14. is an, overall, happy person
15. sense of humor
16. appreciates my “nerdiness”
17. has passions, goals, and interests
18. isn't just a romantic interest, but a sincere and best friend

etc. etc. etc. (I'm not going to share everything. That's personal.)

Of course, I'm being “too picky” now. If I were 19, my list would be totally acceptable. Not so these days. So, what changed?

Well, there's my age. I got older. As a result, the message I'm getting is this: as a person ages, they deserve less. While ten years ago “not settling” was the expectation, the expectation now is to “settle for what you can get.”

Of course, if it isn't my age that makes me undeserving, then—perhaps—it's that, in others' eyes, I never deserved what I wanted in the first place. And they lied to me when they said, “don't settle.”

So—am I picky? Yes, absolutely, and for all the right reasons. Keep in mind, these expectations aren't only the standard to which I hold a potential “someone,” these are also the expectations to which I hold myself. We've all heard the adage, “You are what you eat.” I'd like to say, “You are who you date.” To lower the expectations, to settle, to become “not so picky,” I would have to lower my own expectations. I would have to settle on the lowest common denominator of myself. I would have to believe that my personal worth has diminished over time, and I continue to lose value everyday.

I don't think that's true for me. I don't think that's true for anyone.

So, if you're worried that your single friend is “too picky,” maybe you should focus your efforts and concerns on building your friend up—giving them hope that they deserve to accomplish their goals, whatever those goals might be.

And for you single friends who are still playing the field—even though everyone expected you to be “retired” by now—keep on keeping on. Keep growing, and don't lose hope. Expectations shouldn't have expiration dates, especially when it comes to the important things.