Friday, March 29.
I left home at 6:30am to travel to Salt Lake City to give a three-minute pitch for the opportunity to win a $5,000 grant for the theatre. A huge opportunity and one I was very excited for. I stopped on the way out of town for a hot chocolate and to fill up the car and even though when I left my house, the weather was clear, by the time I finished getting gas, there were big fluffly flakes falling from the sky. I wasn't too worried, though, since I knew the weather would change when I climbed out of the Basin.
So I drove! And, as expected, once I got about 15 minutes out of town the roads were clear and the skies were gray but blue was peeking through with the sunrise. I love driving. I love it. I talk to God and I listen to God and I have had truly amazing experiences in the car. I also just love driving in general anyway, so that's a bonus to the spiritual communion that happens.
Everything was going great. I was able to keep a good speed without a lot of traffic, I was crying a little in my car as I got a couple answers to prayer, I was listening to the radio and hearing good promos for upcoming events at the theatre! I got to Strawberry and the weather changed again (as I expected it to). There was a little bit of snow on the ground, but not enough to be sticking and a few flakes in the air but not enough to impede vision. I passed a couple of trucks that were slowing down and felt great. The last climb before descending down to drive past Strawberry itself, I stayed behind a line of cars because the road was more snow-covered in that spot. After driving at 40 miles per hour for a while, there was a clear spot and I passed one of three cars and a semi ahead of me without any problem. Then we hit the part where the passing lanes were further between and more cars were coming toward us so I couldn't pass again.
I admit I felt a little impatient, but mostly because I hadn't gone to the bathroom since before I left the house and I was starting to feel the need. However, I followed behind the line of cars and didn't try to pass knowing that an opportunity to get around them would come eventually. As we got to the other side of Strawberry just before heading up Daniel's canyon, a car a couple in front of me passed the semi truck and took off up the road. I was thrilled because surely the line would start to dwindle now and I would have a turn to pass. The cars next in line sped up a little bit and I made the move to follow them. I remember thinking "Heavenly Father, we haven't talked about this other thing happening at the theatre . . . "
The next thing I knew I was fishtailing into the other lane.
I did a really great job, in hindsight. All my driving training kicked in and I countered the fishtailing as I went back and forth across the lanes. I didn't hit any other cars (though that was not by my doing I am sure of it) and right as I almost got everything straightened out, the car flipped around to face coming traffic and slid into a snowbank.
Everything seemed fine. A couple other cars stopped to make sure I was ok. I started the car again and everything sounded good and worked the way that it should. I was too deep in to get out and do a check, so I eased my way out of the snowbank (again - utilizing all my winter weather training that really paid off) and got on the road again. However, after going about 2 feet I realized the steering wheel was in the wrong position. As I tried to correct in, the car veered to the side. I pulled over again, walked around the car and everything looked fine. There wasn't even surface damage that I noticed. I tried one more time to drive but every time I touched the steering wheel it would veer or if I held it in place I would go the wrong way. So I pulled over and looked again and found that the passenger side front wheel was pointing in toward the front of the car. Basically the two wheels looked like this: l and \
So that's when I called my dad and asked him to find me a tow number to call because, while I had the technology to do it, my brain wasn't working to know how I needed to make that happen. While he was finding a number, I tried to call Daniel but couldn't get through. So I left a message that I hoped wouldn't freak him out while giving him information as to what had happened. Then I got a tow truck coming.
MIRACLE ONE: the accident was really minimal compared to what it could have been. I didn't roll the car, I didn't hit anyone or anything else (except the snow), I wasn't injured at all physically. The inside of the car was completely fine.
MIRACLE TWO: I'd had the thought to take the theatre phone (which is a smart phone) with me on the trip. I wasn't going to because I was sure I wouldn't need it - I knew where I was going and wouldn't be out of town long. But having data on that phone gave me immediate access to finding a mechanic and being able to email the people in charge of the pitch that I was traveling to.
MIRACLE THREE: less than an hour later, the tow truck found me even though I was in a weird spot without any obvious markers, got the car loaded and us on our way.
MIRACLE FOUR: the driver's "bedside manner", for lack of a better phrase, was perfect. He asked me a few questions but knew to avoid other questions that probably would have caused me to freak out or panic or just cry.
As we drove the car to Heber and the waiting mechanic, I was trying to figure out what to do next. My dad offered to come get me, but he was two hours away. The ladies at the WEC offered to reschedule my pitch to a later time if I thought I could make it, but as I called the car rental companies in Heber there were no cars available to me. Even if my dad left immediately, I'd miss both my original pitch time and the new one. He suggested calling my grandma who lives in Orem. I hesitated because, well, who has time to drive around all day? But I sent Grandma a text and told her what had happened and she asked where the car was being towed to and said she was on her way.
The drive was really nice - the weather got really bad about five minutes after I landed in the snow bank but then cleared as the tow truck started up the canyon. The driver knew the location of the mechanic shop and was the nicest older gentleman with the best way of keeping me calm. I'm sure he's had lots of practice with that. We got to the mechanic without any problem and when I climbed out of the car I noticed that, beside the wheel, the only other damage was on the opposite end of the car where the driver side brake light was smashed out and a part of the bumper was gone.
I ran in to the bathroom first while the car was unloaded and then I started checking all my bank accounts to make sure I had enough on the credit cards to pay for what I sure was going to be a HUGE tow charge (up and down the canyon!) and a HUGE mechanic repair charge.
MIRACLE FIVE: The tow charge was $140.
My grandma showed up and I loaded my stuff into her car and we headed on our way to Salt Lake. The mechanic called me just before Park City and said repairs were pretty minimal and would only take a couple hours to get us back on the road again. I finally was able to reach Daniel and told him what was going on. He had some extra time and so was able to do extra checks on Hannalyn who was with my mom and assured me everything would be fine at home.
MIRACLE SIX: The day with my Grandma.
When I was a little girl, my Grandma would take me with her on trips and errands all the time. We would ride the bus to SLC to see her mother, we would go on walks and to the park, we went to the mall and to her bank where she taught me about finances - budgeting, saving, how to balance a book and more. This little trip with her brought back so many amazing memories and I loved it. We talked a lot about how the little things in life turn out to be the big things - a job you take influences a future position even though it seems unrelated, a theatre camp you attend may give you all the ideas and structure for starting your own - etc etc. I had an amazing time. We stopped for lunch and then made it in perfect time for me to deliver my pitch.
That in itself went well-ish. I spoke much too quickly, but I gave coherent answers to questions and got all the important information out as well as my witty opening and closing lines that I'd prepared, so hopefully that all made a cohesive presentation. I find out on Monday if I move on to the final round and I really really want to, I also know it wasn't my best performance so if I don't, that's ok, too. I trust that what happens is what is supposed to happen.
Then Grandma and I headed back to Heber. I told her about my pitch and she liked it, too. We talked about everything and nothing and I could tell we were both tired. It was a full day! She bought me ice cream when we got back to Heber and then we wandered Walmart for a quick minute when my car wasn't finished being repaired. I finally told her that she should head home (it was 3:30pm) and that I'd be fine sitting in the shop until the car was ready to go. I'd been promised that the car would be ready before the end of the day, so I was ok to sit and wait. Plus I had that smart phone so I could get some work done while I was waiting. And that's what happened!
MIRACLE SEVEN: The car was done by 4:30pm and only cost $230. You guys, I was expecting to try and pay out thousands of dollars to the tow company and the mechanic, but altogether spent less than $500. This is a HUGE miracle in many ways, but also in that I was able to find a mechanic who was honest and quick and did a fantastic job. The taillight needs to be covered still, but as soon as I got on the road, the steering and tires were perfect.
I hustled home. I was exhausted but wanted nothing more than to hurry home and see Daniel before he had rehearsal. What was supposed to be a 9-hour trip day with fun stops to see friends and visit a bookstore maybe turned into a 13-hour trip day with lots of fun with my Grandma, but none of my plans going the way I thought they should.
Truth be told, though, I needed that time with my Grandma and just didn't know it. It was amazing and wonderful and fun and I just wish that I didn't need to wreck my car to make it happen. *sigh*
MIRACLE EIGHT: Made it home at 6:30pm with one stop to go to the bathroom on the way and with no weather problems - dry roads all the way through - without being too tired.
So, despite all the rottenness and inconvenience and annoyance and just plain hard and sucky stuff that happened - God was very clearly involved in this day that I had. It was an incredibly miraculous day full of things that happened just right and people I met who were perfectly situated to help me and I know a fantastic tow company & mechanic in Heber in case anyone needs help. ;)
But seriously, it was a hard day and yet I was so grateful to look back and see the myriad of ways that God was blessing and protecting me. Obviously I don't want to wreck my car, but the time spent with my Grandma is time that I'll forever cherish and be grateful for. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I still made it home at a good time. The roads were great driving home. I still talked with God and listened to God as I drove and felt His spirit and peace. It was a very unexpected and unplanned day, but one in which I know that I was being blessed by one who knows much more than I.
"For now I realize that good can come from bad. That may not make me wise, but oh, it makes me glad."
- Beauty and the Beast
"You are a child of the universe - no less than the trees and the stars. You have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore, be at peace with God - whatever you conceive Him to be."
- Desiderata
March 31, 2019
March 24, 2019
what i learned today
While I was writing in my journal about what I'd learned in this week's Come Follow Me studies, something hit me that hasn't before.
I wrote earlier in the week about the power of the individual- the testimony and faith of just one person can do truly incredible things like convert a city, heal a long trial, raise the dead. A few times in the scriptures, a person is remarked on as having more faith than all in a certain city and the speaker proclaims the miracle that it is and the power that would come if more people had that faith.
Individuals have incredible power when blessed and guided by the hand of God. As we strive to be more like Christ, we need to seek out the individuals and minister to them. One by one is how Christ did it, and so should we. Believe it or not - this is what hit me hard today.
I was thinking about how overwhelmed I've been in a new calling as Relief Society Secretary. I'm only the secretary! But I feel so much pressure (from myself - not the presidency - they are great) to instantly know everyone and be friendly and take care of the group and care for everyone and and and . . . it's exhausting. But as I was pondering on what I had read, I was struck by the thought that while Christ taught people in groups and obviously His teachings are essential to our learning, He ministered to individuals. In this "new" mode of ministering, I've felt overwhelmed (again) to minister to everyone - my family, my neighbors, my ward members, my friends, etc etc.
But Christ ministered to individuals.
The daughter of Jairus. The leper. The woman who had been bent for many years. The man with the withered hand. When Christ performed these miracles, He didn't assemble a crowd and say "You're all healed!" He did it one by one, individually. Touching them, talking to them, hearing of their faith and testimony, assuring them that they - as themselves - were enough and loved by His Father.
I mean, I can talk to one person. I can reach out to an individual. I don't need to go visit thirty sisters in a day, or even a week! I need to minister to one person at a time. Now, some may be able to visit thirty sisters in a week and minister to them individually. I know that I can't - and I don't need to feel badly about that.
I'm not really sure why this was so enlightening to me today, but it gave me a lot of hope - both for myself as a minister and as an individual being ministered to. I can love one person and help them and take care of them. And when I need love and care, my God will do it for me as my individual self - not in a group or by expecting me to go or be or do something that I'm not. He will always love me.
I don't know, it just makes me happy I guess, this idea of Christ loving the individual and taking time for them and knowing that that is what I really need to do - take it one person at a time. He will make it possible for me to be where I need to be when I need to be there if I'm giving my all to Him.
What a beautiful reassurance. <3
I wrote earlier in the week about the power of the individual- the testimony and faith of just one person can do truly incredible things like convert a city, heal a long trial, raise the dead. A few times in the scriptures, a person is remarked on as having more faith than all in a certain city and the speaker proclaims the miracle that it is and the power that would come if more people had that faith.
Individuals have incredible power when blessed and guided by the hand of God. As we strive to be more like Christ, we need to seek out the individuals and minister to them. One by one is how Christ did it, and so should we. Believe it or not - this is what hit me hard today.
I was thinking about how overwhelmed I've been in a new calling as Relief Society Secretary. I'm only the secretary! But I feel so much pressure (from myself - not the presidency - they are great) to instantly know everyone and be friendly and take care of the group and care for everyone and and and . . . it's exhausting. But as I was pondering on what I had read, I was struck by the thought that while Christ taught people in groups and obviously His teachings are essential to our learning, He ministered to individuals. In this "new" mode of ministering, I've felt overwhelmed (again) to minister to everyone - my family, my neighbors, my ward members, my friends, etc etc.
But Christ ministered to individuals.
The daughter of Jairus. The leper. The woman who had been bent for many years. The man with the withered hand. When Christ performed these miracles, He didn't assemble a crowd and say "You're all healed!" He did it one by one, individually. Touching them, talking to them, hearing of their faith and testimony, assuring them that they - as themselves - were enough and loved by His Father.
I mean, I can talk to one person. I can reach out to an individual. I don't need to go visit thirty sisters in a day, or even a week! I need to minister to one person at a time. Now, some may be able to visit thirty sisters in a week and minister to them individually. I know that I can't - and I don't need to feel badly about that.
I'm not really sure why this was so enlightening to me today, but it gave me a lot of hope - both for myself as a minister and as an individual being ministered to. I can love one person and help them and take care of them. And when I need love and care, my God will do it for me as my individual self - not in a group or by expecting me to go or be or do something that I'm not. He will always love me.
I don't know, it just makes me happy I guess, this idea of Christ loving the individual and taking time for them and knowing that that is what I really need to do - take it one person at a time. He will make it possible for me to be where I need to be when I need to be there if I'm giving my all to Him.
What a beautiful reassurance. <3
March 20, 2019
a cry for help
Have you ever done one of those group activities where someone gets to ask a question and then you analyze everyone's personalities based on how they answer? For example, the question might be: You're all alone (usually in the woods) and you hear a cry for help. What do you do? And then the answers vary from trying to find the person to trying to call in someone else to help and everything in between.
The thing is, though, that we usually aren't all alone when we hear a cry for help. And the woods are most often not literal, but figurative.
When I was a junior in high school, my theatre class studied the musical "Into the Woods". The first two days were spent on discussing why the "woods" and what that meant - both for the story and each of us individually. The consensus became that the woods sound scarier than the forest, even though it's technically the same thing and that the woods are life. Every time you leave your house for the big wide world, you're heading to or through or past the woods. Sometimes the woods, or at least the effect of the woods, can enter your house which can be good as we learn from lessons or scary as we are effected psychologically in ways we never anticipated.
So this idea of figurative woods being all around us makes for great imagery of how easy it can be for someone to look like they have it all together and know where they are going . . . and not realize that they are headed straight for a wolf, giant or cliff. It also helps me to see how easy it is to get lost - without even meaning to. Sometimes we go camping with a group, some like to go by themselves. Usually we see other campers out there and we wave or mind our business depending on how big their camp trailer is, occasionally we have a whole section of the woods all to ourselves. Less bugs and other crawlies, of course.
And maybe we aren't in the woods like forest and trees. Maybe we're in the woods of a big city - tall skyscrapers and building built close together as though they are trying to keep the woods at bay. Maybe the woods are the people we surround ourselves with as we dig in to find our support and comfort from any coming store. Maybe the woods are just in our mind as we wander through the vastness of thought and imagination. Brains are a pretty small part of our anatomy and yet we can get lost in them for minutes, hours, days or sometimes years.
. . .
When was the last time you heard a cry for help? I don't mean a child coming and asking for help opening the box of crackers. I don't mean your spouse asking if you can help set the table. I don't even mean calling the help number on the email you got to set up a new account. I mean a cry.
Hannalyn is pretty self-sufficient these days. I love it, yet miss the days she was a baby and needed me more often. Just recently while we were at the theatre, she got stuck in one of the seats. One of her feet had slid between the seat and the back and her other leg was in the air because she'd been standing on the seat and it unbalanced under her. That was a cry for help - it started as "Hey!" as she tried to get my attention, with each "Hey!" getting louder and more desperate as the discomfort and panic that she couldn't get out set in. Finally, she started crying and saying "Please" - "Hey, mom! Please help!" and continued to do so until I wiggled her shoe off her foot and pulled her free of the chair.
That was a literal cry - words, tears, very easy to understand that there was a problem Hannalyn couldn't solve, a verbal out-reach for assistance that only someone else could give to this physical problem that she was in. These are not uncommon (though more and more rare as children grow) cries for help that are easy to recognize and help to solve.
How many cries do we miss because the person cannot say "Hey, please help me"?
Maybe they can't say it because they don't know they are in trouble. Maybe they are worried about judgment or in an abusive situation which would get worse if they asked for help. Maybe they've had to be strong for so long that the words have been lost. But there are cries for help all around us.
I see it in social media posts and news headlines. I hear it in the comments in my youth Sunday School class and the conversations at the grocery store. I recognize it in self-help books and movies - people who desperately need a hand and do not or, often, can not ask for it.
. . .
There are so many things I wish I could say but I don't have the words.
Why is needing help considered weakness? We would never mock or belittle a child in need of assistance. We give them the food, the love, the help that they need at that moment - usually as quickly as we can in an effort to keep them happy and without any sort of censure or judgment. We encourage children to do all they can, and then we step in with a little boost when it's needed. We support them AS THEY GROW, not by waiting to give love and praise until the project or task is done perfectly but by giving love and praise as they do it.
Why don't we do this with adults? Why are so many of our strong women struggling with depression, anxiety, loneliness, fear? Why do we talk about therapy as though if a person needs it, that person is less or incapable? Why do we perpetuate a stigma of fear to ask for help, love, guidance?
I think it's because we all need help - and we're all too ashamed to admit it.
But think about the power there would be in knowing that EVERYONE IS JUST LIKE YOU! Everyone is struggling with this, too! We are all afraid - afraid for our spouses, children, homes, safety, schools. Not to mention ourselves and our abilities to enjoy or, heck!, just handle the life that we are living?! But instead of admitting our fear or our insecurities, we push them into the closet and laugh out loud that we are doing just fine.
Maybe it's just me.
I've learned a lot in the last year. As I've tried to be more honest with myself, my husband, with my bishop and my therapist, I have learned that I am afraid. I am afraid of so many things. We read in the scriptures that we are to "fear not, but be believing" and I'm telling you that I am trying so hard. Some days I do really well. Other days, I learn about new inadequacies that I have and want to quit trying all over again.
I think that something that would have helped me sooner is if I had had someone I could ask for help without having to worry about what they would think about me. Now, I believe in God's timing and things work out perfectly just the way that they should meaning that I was supposed to be where I was in order to meet the therapist I have so that I could make the progress and recovery I've made.
But that doesn't mean I shouldn't be ready to answer someone else's cry for help. I could be that person for someone else. I could be the person who hears the silent cry and does the scariest thing ever by NOT giving in to fear but instead reaching out my hand. YOU could be that person.
For me, it was my sister and Daniel's sister both reaching out to me in the same week and saying "You are loved. You don't have to do this alone. By the way, listen to this inspiring podcast." and when I listened to those podcasts, I heard THERAPY THERAPY THERAPY. Not in a mean or "you're not good enough" way, but a "here is the lifeline you've been needing and waiting for" way. And it has changed my life.
There are people all around us who need help - some are crying literal tears of pain and hurt and loneliness where no one can see them. But not seeing them just makes it that much more important that we love those around us unconditionally so that we will be inspired to know how to reach them and so that they know they can trust us to give them the aid that they need.
I have cried for help and God has answered. He will answer you.
The thing is, though, that we usually aren't all alone when we hear a cry for help. And the woods are most often not literal, but figurative.
When I was a junior in high school, my theatre class studied the musical "Into the Woods". The first two days were spent on discussing why the "woods" and what that meant - both for the story and each of us individually. The consensus became that the woods sound scarier than the forest, even though it's technically the same thing and that the woods are life. Every time you leave your house for the big wide world, you're heading to or through or past the woods. Sometimes the woods, or at least the effect of the woods, can enter your house which can be good as we learn from lessons or scary as we are effected psychologically in ways we never anticipated.
So this idea of figurative woods being all around us makes for great imagery of how easy it can be for someone to look like they have it all together and know where they are going . . . and not realize that they are headed straight for a wolf, giant or cliff. It also helps me to see how easy it is to get lost - without even meaning to. Sometimes we go camping with a group, some like to go by themselves. Usually we see other campers out there and we wave or mind our business depending on how big their camp trailer is, occasionally we have a whole section of the woods all to ourselves. Less bugs and other crawlies, of course.
And maybe we aren't in the woods like forest and trees. Maybe we're in the woods of a big city - tall skyscrapers and building built close together as though they are trying to keep the woods at bay. Maybe the woods are the people we surround ourselves with as we dig in to find our support and comfort from any coming store. Maybe the woods are just in our mind as we wander through the vastness of thought and imagination. Brains are a pretty small part of our anatomy and yet we can get lost in them for minutes, hours, days or sometimes years.
. . .
When was the last time you heard a cry for help? I don't mean a child coming and asking for help opening the box of crackers. I don't mean your spouse asking if you can help set the table. I don't even mean calling the help number on the email you got to set up a new account. I mean a cry.
Hannalyn is pretty self-sufficient these days. I love it, yet miss the days she was a baby and needed me more often. Just recently while we were at the theatre, she got stuck in one of the seats. One of her feet had slid between the seat and the back and her other leg was in the air because she'd been standing on the seat and it unbalanced under her. That was a cry for help - it started as "Hey!" as she tried to get my attention, with each "Hey!" getting louder and more desperate as the discomfort and panic that she couldn't get out set in. Finally, she started crying and saying "Please" - "Hey, mom! Please help!" and continued to do so until I wiggled her shoe off her foot and pulled her free of the chair.
That was a literal cry - words, tears, very easy to understand that there was a problem Hannalyn couldn't solve, a verbal out-reach for assistance that only someone else could give to this physical problem that she was in. These are not uncommon (though more and more rare as children grow) cries for help that are easy to recognize and help to solve.
How many cries do we miss because the person cannot say "Hey, please help me"?
Maybe they can't say it because they don't know they are in trouble. Maybe they are worried about judgment or in an abusive situation which would get worse if they asked for help. Maybe they've had to be strong for so long that the words have been lost. But there are cries for help all around us.
I see it in social media posts and news headlines. I hear it in the comments in my youth Sunday School class and the conversations at the grocery store. I recognize it in self-help books and movies - people who desperately need a hand and do not or, often, can not ask for it.
. . .
There are so many things I wish I could say but I don't have the words.
Why is needing help considered weakness? We would never mock or belittle a child in need of assistance. We give them the food, the love, the help that they need at that moment - usually as quickly as we can in an effort to keep them happy and without any sort of censure or judgment. We encourage children to do all they can, and then we step in with a little boost when it's needed. We support them AS THEY GROW, not by waiting to give love and praise until the project or task is done perfectly but by giving love and praise as they do it.
Why don't we do this with adults? Why are so many of our strong women struggling with depression, anxiety, loneliness, fear? Why do we talk about therapy as though if a person needs it, that person is less or incapable? Why do we perpetuate a stigma of fear to ask for help, love, guidance?
I think it's because we all need help - and we're all too ashamed to admit it.
But think about the power there would be in knowing that EVERYONE IS JUST LIKE YOU! Everyone is struggling with this, too! We are all afraid - afraid for our spouses, children, homes, safety, schools. Not to mention ourselves and our abilities to enjoy or, heck!, just handle the life that we are living?! But instead of admitting our fear or our insecurities, we push them into the closet and laugh out loud that we are doing just fine.
Maybe it's just me.
I've learned a lot in the last year. As I've tried to be more honest with myself, my husband, with my bishop and my therapist, I have learned that I am afraid. I am afraid of so many things. We read in the scriptures that we are to "fear not, but be believing" and I'm telling you that I am trying so hard. Some days I do really well. Other days, I learn about new inadequacies that I have and want to quit trying all over again.
I think that something that would have helped me sooner is if I had had someone I could ask for help without having to worry about what they would think about me. Now, I believe in God's timing and things work out perfectly just the way that they should meaning that I was supposed to be where I was in order to meet the therapist I have so that I could make the progress and recovery I've made.
But that doesn't mean I shouldn't be ready to answer someone else's cry for help. I could be that person for someone else. I could be the person who hears the silent cry and does the scariest thing ever by NOT giving in to fear but instead reaching out my hand. YOU could be that person.
For me, it was my sister and Daniel's sister both reaching out to me in the same week and saying "You are loved. You don't have to do this alone. By the way, listen to this inspiring podcast." and when I listened to those podcasts, I heard THERAPY THERAPY THERAPY. Not in a mean or "you're not good enough" way, but a "here is the lifeline you've been needing and waiting for" way. And it has changed my life.
There are people all around us who need help - some are crying literal tears of pain and hurt and loneliness where no one can see them. But not seeing them just makes it that much more important that we love those around us unconditionally so that we will be inspired to know how to reach them and so that they know they can trust us to give them the aid that they need.
I have cried for help and God has answered. He will answer you.
March 14, 2019
live a praying life without fear
This is another book I'm working through - this one by Jennifer Kennedy Dean. It was recommended by my therapist to help me with my anxiety. We talk a lot about all the things I'm afraid of and I've only read the introduction of this book and all I can think is YES! So I think that's a good thing. ;)
Like I did with Same Life, New Story, I will post here and there about what I'm learning. It's faster for me to type my thoughts than write them, and I like having the record of my progress so this here blog will be the documentation of my journey.
Dean has studied the human brain and its functions - specifically as it relates to fear. She says that as she discovers more about this organ, "it becomes clear that God has constructed our brains in such a way that He can transform our thinking, heal the pain of memories and set us free." She goes on to say that the key is not to believe that nothing that scares us will ever happen, but to know that "Nothing will happen without the hand of God in control . . . the glory it will produce outweighs the pain it will cause."
I confess that I am afraid. Afraid of anxiety & depression, losing my husband & child, not being (fill in the blank with good, smart, kind, happy, friendly, etc) enough.
I desire to be brave; to feel God's love; to grow nearer to my family and God.
I believe that God loves me, His church is on the earth today and is led by His loving prophet. He will guide and protect me and my family.
I commit to doing my best - no excuses; to listening to what God says; loving my family and God with all my heart, mind and soul.
Here we go! <3
Like I did with Same Life, New Story, I will post here and there about what I'm learning. It's faster for me to type my thoughts than write them, and I like having the record of my progress so this here blog will be the documentation of my journey.
Dean has studied the human brain and its functions - specifically as it relates to fear. She says that as she discovers more about this organ, "it becomes clear that God has constructed our brains in such a way that He can transform our thinking, heal the pain of memories and set us free." She goes on to say that the key is not to believe that nothing that scares us will ever happen, but to know that "Nothing will happen without the hand of God in control . . . the glory it will produce outweighs the pain it will cause."
I confess that I am afraid. Afraid of anxiety & depression, losing my husband & child, not being (fill in the blank with good, smart, kind, happy, friendly, etc) enough.
I desire to be brave; to feel God's love; to grow nearer to my family and God.
I believe that God loves me, His church is on the earth today and is led by His loving prophet. He will guide and protect me and my family.
I commit to doing my best - no excuses; to listening to what God says; loving my family and God with all my heart, mind and soul.
Here we go! <3
March 13, 2019
six things you didn't know about being a theatre owner
There are probably lots more than six, but I had to start somewhere, right? These are six things that I think might surprise you - or maybe they won't - about being a theatre owner. You know, in case you decide to go into the business for yourself. ;) In no particular order . . .
6. God chooses all the shows.
I have a group of people who I trust to give me solid opinions who I ask about upcoming Season productions. Usually I give them a list of shows I'm interested in and see what they say - will it work with the talent pool we have, do we have an audience that will come to it, can we make it financially as we look at costumes & set? Then I take their feedback and pray. A lot. At the end of the day, if I don't receive a confirmation that a show is the right one to do - I don't do it. I've done shows I haven't necessarily wanted to because God said it was the right time and others shows I really want to do keep getting pushed back because it's not the right time . . . yet. Obviously I do the work by looking at things like royalties and other logistics, but it all comes down to praying that this theatre continues to move the way that God wants it and trusting that He'll make sure we do the shows best suited to help the theatre, actors, and audiences grow.
5. You learn more about business that imagined.
I am so blessed to have met the right people at the right times who help me make the right decisions to make the theatre a successful business. My knowledge of business comes from managing a concessions stand at BYU, being a teacher, working briefly in an office and a daycare and listening to the discussions of people wiser than me. Luckily, God has expanded my brain so that I've been able to learn fast about mission statements, 1099s, State Taxes, income/revenue, net/gross variances, business plans, and so much more. I manage every aspect of the theatre from choosing productions and budgeting the money every month to make sure we pay the bills to cleaning the bathroom and popping popcorn to save money on payroll. I keep inventories and supply lists, I work with contractors and suppliers, I watch how others market and advertise so I can steal their ideas, and I struggle. A lot. I've also learned more than I ever thought I would and yet STILL find more that I don't know! It's kind of fun.
4. You make people angry.
I know I've talked about this one before, frequently, and it's something that will continue to be a part of this business life. I am amazed at the number of ways a person can be offended. Choosing a certain production, NOT choosing a certain production, the cast list or crew list, the production team's choices, how hot or cold it is in the theatre, whether or not the toilet stall has enough toilet paper or paper towels, when the doors open or close, starting a show on time, starting a show late, closing the concessions stand, opening the concessions stand, little children, standing up for something I believe is important, NO ONE standing up for what is important . . . and the list goes on. I often feel like I'm under a microscope when I'm at the theatre and it is exhausting. I rarely feel like I'm doing anything right and that is frustrating. I know that if I just stopped my work at the theatre - stopped cold turkey - the whole thing would fall apart. No, I'm not needed for every production or every event, but there are some things that only I know and even though I try to make sure there is someone who knows enough that everything could be handled if I weren't there, it would sure be tough to move on. But then someone sends me an email or I get word in another way that I did ABC wrong and they're offended so I better apologize. My response is usually "If you can do it better, you are welcome to." And while that's probably not the best response, it sometimes helps the complainer see that they aren't where I am and maybe they would do something differently but I really need to do what is best for the theatre. That's applicable to all areas of life, by the way.
3. You can't do it alone.
There is a core group of about 6 people who I rely on to help make the theatre a reality. They probably don't even know who they are because I am awful at thanking them. There is nothing I wouldn't do for these people. They have held the theatre together while I've been scrambling in the middle to pick up a few pieces. They have taught me so much and learned with me when none of us knew what was next. They've prayed for me, laughed & cried with me, and I would have failed long ago without them. Find your people. They matter.
2. You see the best and the worst in people.
I never want to be judged by my worst day. But I have a hard time remembering to extend that courtesy to others all the time. Usually I can see when someone is not his or herself and I can be patient and gentle until the moment passes. Sometimes, though, especially when it gets really ugly, it's hard to remember that everyone deserves to have their own experiences and feelings. One of the incredible things about theatre is taking a bunch of people and encouraging them to explore feelings and points of view that they've never considered before. This can also be frightening when someone has a hard time separating the stage from real life. Suddenly they are acting in ways they never have before and don't remember they have to have a place and a time to be themselves again. Storytelling through emotion and passion is a scary thing to do - we encourage people to break down a character, to understand and find ways to relate, to be completely vulnerable and open up to an audience of strangers or - sometimes worse - family members. Relationships are formed on and off the stage that sometimes go away when a show is over and that hurts because they are real. And when a person retaliates against those feelings, it's hard to not react in turn. But you also get to see when someone has a breakthrough in their personal life with a struggle or watch someone embrace a friend who they would have never met if not for this situation and the beautiful is phenomenal. There is good and bad - we have to focus on the good.
1. You care about every person on that stage.
I get so irritated by feeling so much all the time! Ha! But seriously. It is hard to continually be in emotional upheaval. My personal life and brain is a mess - add to it that I'm meeting and growing to care about between 6 and 45 people every month and I can sometimes be a basket case. I want each person who walks through the doors of the theatre to find a safe place. I want the theatre to be a place of inner self-reflection and recognition and a place for explore and see the world through someone else's eyes. I want people to meet each other, love each other, and grow together into making the world a better place. I want everyone to succeed and just be happy dang it. Unfortunately, in life and in the theatre, that's not always how things go. But it doesn't mean that I don't want it and don't yearn for it and don't care so gosh dang much about the people who are helping to make MY dreams a reality. If nothing else, these people are sacrificing their time and sharing of their talents to give back to my dream and to the community. I could love them for that alone, not including getting to know them and watching how they love to grow and learn or struggle to improve and fight and win! These people are the best.
So. Maybe you learned something new today. Maybe not. But the roles of a theatre owner are much more diversified than I ever imagined and have impacted me in unalterable ways. I needed to share my gratitude.
Do some Arts, peeps. It matters.
6. God chooses all the shows.
I have a group of people who I trust to give me solid opinions who I ask about upcoming Season productions. Usually I give them a list of shows I'm interested in and see what they say - will it work with the talent pool we have, do we have an audience that will come to it, can we make it financially as we look at costumes & set? Then I take their feedback and pray. A lot. At the end of the day, if I don't receive a confirmation that a show is the right one to do - I don't do it. I've done shows I haven't necessarily wanted to because God said it was the right time and others shows I really want to do keep getting pushed back because it's not the right time . . . yet. Obviously I do the work by looking at things like royalties and other logistics, but it all comes down to praying that this theatre continues to move the way that God wants it and trusting that He'll make sure we do the shows best suited to help the theatre, actors, and audiences grow.
5. You learn more about business that imagined.
I am so blessed to have met the right people at the right times who help me make the right decisions to make the theatre a successful business. My knowledge of business comes from managing a concessions stand at BYU, being a teacher, working briefly in an office and a daycare and listening to the discussions of people wiser than me. Luckily, God has expanded my brain so that I've been able to learn fast about mission statements, 1099s, State Taxes, income/revenue, net/gross variances, business plans, and so much more. I manage every aspect of the theatre from choosing productions and budgeting the money every month to make sure we pay the bills to cleaning the bathroom and popping popcorn to save money on payroll. I keep inventories and supply lists, I work with contractors and suppliers, I watch how others market and advertise so I can steal their ideas, and I struggle. A lot. I've also learned more than I ever thought I would and yet STILL find more that I don't know! It's kind of fun.
I know I've talked about this one before, frequently, and it's something that will continue to be a part of this business life. I am amazed at the number of ways a person can be offended. Choosing a certain production, NOT choosing a certain production, the cast list or crew list, the production team's choices, how hot or cold it is in the theatre, whether or not the toilet stall has enough toilet paper or paper towels, when the doors open or close, starting a show on time, starting a show late, closing the concessions stand, opening the concessions stand, little children, standing up for something I believe is important, NO ONE standing up for what is important . . . and the list goes on. I often feel like I'm under a microscope when I'm at the theatre and it is exhausting. I rarely feel like I'm doing anything right and that is frustrating. I know that if I just stopped my work at the theatre - stopped cold turkey - the whole thing would fall apart. No, I'm not needed for every production or every event, but there are some things that only I know and even though I try to make sure there is someone who knows enough that everything could be handled if I weren't there, it would sure be tough to move on. But then someone sends me an email or I get word in another way that I did ABC wrong and they're offended so I better apologize. My response is usually "If you can do it better, you are welcome to." And while that's probably not the best response, it sometimes helps the complainer see that they aren't where I am and maybe they would do something differently but I really need to do what is best for the theatre. That's applicable to all areas of life, by the way.
3. You can't do it alone.
There is a core group of about 6 people who I rely on to help make the theatre a reality. They probably don't even know who they are because I am awful at thanking them. There is nothing I wouldn't do for these people. They have held the theatre together while I've been scrambling in the middle to pick up a few pieces. They have taught me so much and learned with me when none of us knew what was next. They've prayed for me, laughed & cried with me, and I would have failed long ago without them. Find your people. They matter.
2. You see the best and the worst in people.
I never want to be judged by my worst day. But I have a hard time remembering to extend that courtesy to others all the time. Usually I can see when someone is not his or herself and I can be patient and gentle until the moment passes. Sometimes, though, especially when it gets really ugly, it's hard to remember that everyone deserves to have their own experiences and feelings. One of the incredible things about theatre is taking a bunch of people and encouraging them to explore feelings and points of view that they've never considered before. This can also be frightening when someone has a hard time separating the stage from real life. Suddenly they are acting in ways they never have before and don't remember they have to have a place and a time to be themselves again. Storytelling through emotion and passion is a scary thing to do - we encourage people to break down a character, to understand and find ways to relate, to be completely vulnerable and open up to an audience of strangers or - sometimes worse - family members. Relationships are formed on and off the stage that sometimes go away when a show is over and that hurts because they are real. And when a person retaliates against those feelings, it's hard to not react in turn. But you also get to see when someone has a breakthrough in their personal life with a struggle or watch someone embrace a friend who they would have never met if not for this situation and the beautiful is phenomenal. There is good and bad - we have to focus on the good.
1. You care about every person on that stage.
I get so irritated by feeling so much all the time! Ha! But seriously. It is hard to continually be in emotional upheaval. My personal life and brain is a mess - add to it that I'm meeting and growing to care about between 6 and 45 people every month and I can sometimes be a basket case. I want each person who walks through the doors of the theatre to find a safe place. I want the theatre to be a place of inner self-reflection and recognition and a place for explore and see the world through someone else's eyes. I want people to meet each other, love each other, and grow together into making the world a better place. I want everyone to succeed and just be happy dang it. Unfortunately, in life and in the theatre, that's not always how things go. But it doesn't mean that I don't want it and don't yearn for it and don't care so gosh dang much about the people who are helping to make MY dreams a reality. If nothing else, these people are sacrificing their time and sharing of their talents to give back to my dream and to the community. I could love them for that alone, not including getting to know them and watching how they love to grow and learn or struggle to improve and fight and win! These people are the best.
So. Maybe you learned something new today. Maybe not. But the roles of a theatre owner are much more diversified than I ever imagined and have impacted me in unalterable ways. I needed to share my gratitude.
Do some Arts, peeps. It matters.
March 10, 2019
same life, new story (part 10 & conclusion)
I want to cry right now. I guess a better option is just to reread the book, right? I'm so sad that I finished it and so happy at the same time. It's been a really fun journey to go on. I highly recommend this book to anyone who feels stuck in where they are or what they are doing. I think so many times we let our problems or our situation define us instead of deciding to be in control of our own fate and our own happiness. I know that I do. And I'm not saying that I'm going to be perfect now, but I feel hopeful and that is worth everything to me.
If Gabriel came to you with similar news (of a miraculous pregnancy), do you think you would react with Zechariah's doubt or Mary's faith? Why?
I'd like to say faith, but I'm really not sure. If an angel appeared, I'd probably start by being pretty frightened and blaming my over-active imagination for creating things. And then I'd try to remember all the things I was taught in seminary about telling the difference between an angel and a deceiving spirit. So. That seems pretty doubtful. But I'd like to think that after I had calmed down for half a second, that I would believe an angel of the Lord and have faith to believe whatever I'm told.
What do you think it will take for you to finish well?
A lot of hope. I've mentioned here a couple of times that in my depression I have felt pretty hopeless. I have been discouraged and afraid. I even stopped reading a book because the next chapter was on hope and I didn't believe it. I couldn't read it and commit to going on until I made peace in my mind on hope. I want to have hope - I want to believe that things can and will be better. It's scary, though, to give yourself over to what the world would consider "wishful thinking". Thankfully, I have learned that hope is so much more. Now I just have to trust it and believe it and push through to finish.
What is the most important lesson you have learned for your life from Elizabeth's legacy?
There are two things, actually. :)
1 - Not getting what we want in life - even the righteous desires of our hearts - does not mean we are unable to be happy. What is a more righteous desire than one of bringing children into the world to raise unto the Lord? And yet, Elizabeth was obviously faithful despite her inability to have children. Just because we live the life we are given, doesn't mean our attitude and faith and HOPE are dictated to us, too. We can choose that part.
2 - The story isn't over. Even death will not be the end of our story - merely another chapter to tell. God is in charge from before the beginning until after the end and He knows the whole of it. His words, His power are unchangeable and unbreakable. If we strive to live for Him, He will continually bless us beyond our imaginings. His arm is outstretched and His pen tells our story of happiness. We just need to live it.
"God is waiting for you to join Him in His story."
God knows all and has my happiness as His priority. He will guide me if I just ask for Him to be there.
I think it's time for a new story. One of happiness and hope and love.
I have a feeling it'll be my favorite.
If Gabriel came to you with similar news (of a miraculous pregnancy), do you think you would react with Zechariah's doubt or Mary's faith? Why?
I'd like to say faith, but I'm really not sure. If an angel appeared, I'd probably start by being pretty frightened and blaming my over-active imagination for creating things. And then I'd try to remember all the things I was taught in seminary about telling the difference between an angel and a deceiving spirit. So. That seems pretty doubtful. But I'd like to think that after I had calmed down for half a second, that I would believe an angel of the Lord and have faith to believe whatever I'm told.
What do you think it will take for you to finish well?
A lot of hope. I've mentioned here a couple of times that in my depression I have felt pretty hopeless. I have been discouraged and afraid. I even stopped reading a book because the next chapter was on hope and I didn't believe it. I couldn't read it and commit to going on until I made peace in my mind on hope. I want to have hope - I want to believe that things can and will be better. It's scary, though, to give yourself over to what the world would consider "wishful thinking". Thankfully, I have learned that hope is so much more. Now I just have to trust it and believe it and push through to finish.
What is the most important lesson you have learned for your life from Elizabeth's legacy?
There are two things, actually. :)
1 - Not getting what we want in life - even the righteous desires of our hearts - does not mean we are unable to be happy. What is a more righteous desire than one of bringing children into the world to raise unto the Lord? And yet, Elizabeth was obviously faithful despite her inability to have children. Just because we live the life we are given, doesn't mean our attitude and faith and HOPE are dictated to us, too. We can choose that part.
2 - The story isn't over. Even death will not be the end of our story - merely another chapter to tell. God is in charge from before the beginning until after the end and He knows the whole of it. His words, His power are unchangeable and unbreakable. If we strive to live for Him, He will continually bless us beyond our imaginings. His arm is outstretched and His pen tells our story of happiness. We just need to live it.
"God is waiting for you to join Him in His story."
God knows all and has my happiness as His priority. He will guide me if I just ask for Him to be there.
I think it's time for a new story. One of happiness and hope and love.
I have a feeling it'll be my favorite.
March 7, 2019
what's your secret?
I've been thinking a lot about secrets. There are all types of secrets.
Santa Claus.
Depression.
Pregnancy.
Anxiety.
Tooth Fairy / Easter Bunny / Cupid / Leprechaun / etc.
Addiction. Fear. Loneliness.
Secret combinations like in the scriptures.
Things you don't say to someone you love because it's hurtful - is that a secret?
Things you say to one but not to another - is that a secret?
When someone says "Do you want to know a secret?" how do you respond? Are you excited? Scared? Thrilled that you are trusted with The secret? Do you anticipate it will be a "good" secret or a "bad" one? Does it depend on who asks the question?
Here's the thing. I have a secret. Or two or three.
Not as many on this blog, or in my journal, because I can write and I don't worry about censure from an audience of three. (maybe I should? but I try not to) For example, I have shared on this blog before that I am struggling with depression, anxiety and PTSD. . . . but only a very small handful of people in my "real" life know that. My husband. My therapist. My parents & one of my sisters. Family members who read this blog. And one friend who I've told. So, less than ten people? That makes it a pretty big secret in my life.
Or maybe "secret" isn't the correct term. Let's define it! Merriam-Webster says:
something kept hidden or unexplained; something kept from the knowledge of others
So, yes. My struggles are a secret.
But a secret isn't inherently bad! Yet when someone says "I have a secret" I have realized that I often expect the worst - cancer, depression, lies.
But you know what else we categorize/name as secrets?
The Secret to Happiness. Santa Claus! Surprise birthday parties. These are very good things, right? Hope inspiring and encouraging and fun.
I'm not sure that I have a point with all of this. It's just something that I've been thinking about a lot.
Maybe it's because I have been feeling like I need to share more of my journey more publicly and I don't want to. It's a secret - one I need to hide and keep close. But I can't shake this feeling that maybe it's important. Maybe it matters to someone else. And yet I am SO SCARED. Scared of the people who would use my weaknesses as a weapon against me. Scared of the censure and disapproval. Scared of the judgment and belittling. Scared that I will bare my soul . . . and no good will come of it. Besides, I don't trust people. Not easily. Not well. Not a lot or much at all.
So while I'm stuck in the middle of this internal debate of how much I feel comfortable sharing, I just keep coming back to blog. Coming back to log my thoughts in this tiny corner of the interwebs and wonder if there is a point. I mean, I know there is for me. I recently reread some of my posts from a year ago and I am so happy with where I am mentally and emotionally NOW. I'm still a mess but last year I was a mess without a plan. Now I've got a plan. And a therapist. So that helps a lot. But I've still got a secret. Several of them all tied up in a big old knot, actually, and it's unraveling my life in some ways despite me trying my darnedest to get stronger. In other ways, I can tell that things are better and happier and stronger. Maybe perspective is what is most needed.
Well. I guess that's enough rambling for now. But I'm curious to know: what do you think is the biggest secret you keep and what would it take for you to share it? Think about it.
Santa Claus.
Depression.
Pregnancy.
Anxiety.
Tooth Fairy / Easter Bunny / Cupid / Leprechaun / etc.
Addiction. Fear. Loneliness.
Secret combinations like in the scriptures.
Things you don't say to someone you love because it's hurtful - is that a secret?
Things you say to one but not to another - is that a secret?
When someone says "Do you want to know a secret?" how do you respond? Are you excited? Scared? Thrilled that you are trusted with The secret? Do you anticipate it will be a "good" secret or a "bad" one? Does it depend on who asks the question?
Here's the thing. I have a secret. Or two or three.
Not as many on this blog, or in my journal, because I can write and I don't worry about censure from an audience of three. (maybe I should? but I try not to) For example, I have shared on this blog before that I am struggling with depression, anxiety and PTSD. . . . but only a very small handful of people in my "real" life know that. My husband. My therapist. My parents & one of my sisters. Family members who read this blog. And one friend who I've told. So, less than ten people? That makes it a pretty big secret in my life.
Or maybe "secret" isn't the correct term. Let's define it! Merriam-Webster says:
something kept hidden or unexplained; something kept from the knowledge of others
So, yes. My struggles are a secret.
But a secret isn't inherently bad! Yet when someone says "I have a secret" I have realized that I often expect the worst - cancer, depression, lies.
But you know what else we categorize/name as secrets?
The Secret to Happiness. Santa Claus! Surprise birthday parties. These are very good things, right? Hope inspiring and encouraging and fun.
I'm not sure that I have a point with all of this. It's just something that I've been thinking about a lot.
Maybe it's because I have been feeling like I need to share more of my journey more publicly and I don't want to. It's a secret - one I need to hide and keep close. But I can't shake this feeling that maybe it's important. Maybe it matters to someone else. And yet I am SO SCARED. Scared of the people who would use my weaknesses as a weapon against me. Scared of the censure and disapproval. Scared of the judgment and belittling. Scared that I will bare my soul . . . and no good will come of it. Besides, I don't trust people. Not easily. Not well. Not a lot or much at all.
So while I'm stuck in the middle of this internal debate of how much I feel comfortable sharing, I just keep coming back to blog. Coming back to log my thoughts in this tiny corner of the interwebs and wonder if there is a point. I mean, I know there is for me. I recently reread some of my posts from a year ago and I am so happy with where I am mentally and emotionally NOW. I'm still a mess but last year I was a mess without a plan. Now I've got a plan. And a therapist. So that helps a lot. But I've still got a secret. Several of them all tied up in a big old knot, actually, and it's unraveling my life in some ways despite me trying my darnedest to get stronger. In other ways, I can tell that things are better and happier and stronger. Maybe perspective is what is most needed.
Well. I guess that's enough rambling for now. But I'm curious to know: what do you think is the biggest secret you keep and what would it take for you to share it? Think about it.
March 4, 2019
same life, new story (part 9)
What will I blog about when I'm not progressing through this book?
Maybe I'll just have to read it again! ;)
This chapter really got to me. I realized that I am not good at "bouncing back" and letting things go. I am a grudge holder, not usually intentionally, but more frequently than I even realize. Stupid things that make me question my worth or doubt those I try to trust build up and then . . . I am harboring anger and fear instead of choosing to do something new and better. I love this quote by Richard Bach: What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly. I need to be more willing to trust that the plan in store for my life is not easy, but it is perfect and if I follow and try my best - the results will turn out just fine.
Have you ever been in a position where you could have wished evil on someone who hurt you? Describe.
Kind of a dramatic question, right? But it gets the point across.
Yes. I have many times in the position of wanting to wish evil on someone. I feel guilt admitting it, but also know that it is probably a "natural" reaction of the human experience. Maybe not for some but it is for me. Maybe not in such a dramatic fashion as "wishing evil" on someone, but I have definitely held a grudge or held back kindness when I felt hurt.
Examples:
-- I am still mad that a doctor told me that it was 100% my fault that Hannalyn almost died when she was 6 days old. While I don't wish evil on the doctor, per say, I do hope that SOMEONE told her that she was wrong. I sure wanted to. Not very forgiving, right?
-- I told a friend a confidence and she betrayed it in very hurtful ways. While I think that I have forgiven her, I definitely do not trust her now and that has put a strain on our relationship that I am sad about.
-- I have been emotionally & mentally abused by people in my life who were in positions to do a great deal of harm - and did it. When I realized what was going on, my initial reaction was to wish that they could hurt as much as I did and understand what they had done to me. Not pretty.
Describe a time when you had to choose between hurting and helping someone. What choice did you make?
At first as I pondered this question, I thought about lots of "big" choices that I've had to make. Then I realized that I make this choice every day - several times a day - in relation to my husband, specifically. You know, it's those little times when I want to be sarcastic or spiteful or just say what I think without thinking about it that are the scariest? Maybe I'm just a mean person, but when I've asked him to please put the dishes in the sink five times - how do I do it the sixth time? Or do I try to make him feel guilty while I do it myself? What is my response and how does it effect the moment, the hour, the evening, and eventually our relationship? As I've thought about this a lot and tried to figure out in every interaction with Daniel whether I'm helping or hurting him (even unintentionally), I've realized that I NEED to be intentional. I need to go deeper and think harder and do better at consciously helping instead of unconsciously hurting.
Are you in a place in your life now from which you need to bounce back and move forward?
I had the most amazing trip to Cedar City. For the first time in a long time I felt as though I was talking WITH God. I felt the Spirit so strongly in the little car doing such a regular thing - and it was beautiful and powerful. I was strengthened and uplifted and blessed to remember other such times that meant so much to me. . . . Then I got home. And at first it was great but I suddenly caught myself sinking back into a rut. It was so fast that it was scary. I sat on my bed and realized I'd gone, in quite literally 20 minutes, from being happy and hopeful to down-right depressed and anxious. The woes and cares I left behind when I drove away came back with a vengeance. Now. I know running away doesn't solve anything, but for just a minute? I wanted to go again. I need to move forward. I need to stop getting pulled down by stuff and grab the opportunity that has been extended to me to do something different and something better.
How can you apply the instead option to help you write your new story? //
MY QUESTION THAT I WROTE TO MYSELF: What could I have in my life if I chose something new instead of the same old?
In this chapter, the story was of the servant girl who told Namaan that if he talked to the prophet, his skin condition would be cured. The author explains that this was probably not easy for the servant girl - she had been kidnapped from her home and forced to serve a new master away from her family and friends. Yet, instead of calling down curses upon her new master - she directed him to God and the miracle he needed to be clean. That's where this idea of instead comes from.
What could I have if I chose something new instead of old? I think I'd have hope. I think I'd have joy. I think I'd finally be able to see an option and a plan reaching in front of me to a new, better horizon. We cannot always choose the story into which we are written, but we can choose how to live it and that writes a new one in itself.
Maybe I'll just have to read it again! ;)
This chapter really got to me. I realized that I am not good at "bouncing back" and letting things go. I am a grudge holder, not usually intentionally, but more frequently than I even realize. Stupid things that make me question my worth or doubt those I try to trust build up and then . . . I am harboring anger and fear instead of choosing to do something new and better. I love this quote by Richard Bach: What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly. I need to be more willing to trust that the plan in store for my life is not easy, but it is perfect and if I follow and try my best - the results will turn out just fine.
Have you ever been in a position where you could have wished evil on someone who hurt you? Describe.
Kind of a dramatic question, right? But it gets the point across.
Yes. I have many times in the position of wanting to wish evil on someone. I feel guilt admitting it, but also know that it is probably a "natural" reaction of the human experience. Maybe not for some but it is for me. Maybe not in such a dramatic fashion as "wishing evil" on someone, but I have definitely held a grudge or held back kindness when I felt hurt.
Examples:
-- I am still mad that a doctor told me that it was 100% my fault that Hannalyn almost died when she was 6 days old. While I don't wish evil on the doctor, per say, I do hope that SOMEONE told her that she was wrong. I sure wanted to. Not very forgiving, right?
-- I told a friend a confidence and she betrayed it in very hurtful ways. While I think that I have forgiven her, I definitely do not trust her now and that has put a strain on our relationship that I am sad about.
-- I have been emotionally & mentally abused by people in my life who were in positions to do a great deal of harm - and did it. When I realized what was going on, my initial reaction was to wish that they could hurt as much as I did and understand what they had done to me. Not pretty.
Describe a time when you had to choose between hurting and helping someone. What choice did you make?
At first as I pondered this question, I thought about lots of "big" choices that I've had to make. Then I realized that I make this choice every day - several times a day - in relation to my husband, specifically. You know, it's those little times when I want to be sarcastic or spiteful or just say what I think without thinking about it that are the scariest? Maybe I'm just a mean person, but when I've asked him to please put the dishes in the sink five times - how do I do it the sixth time? Or do I try to make him feel guilty while I do it myself? What is my response and how does it effect the moment, the hour, the evening, and eventually our relationship? As I've thought about this a lot and tried to figure out in every interaction with Daniel whether I'm helping or hurting him (even unintentionally), I've realized that I NEED to be intentional. I need to go deeper and think harder and do better at consciously helping instead of unconsciously hurting.
Are you in a place in your life now from which you need to bounce back and move forward?
I had the most amazing trip to Cedar City. For the first time in a long time I felt as though I was talking WITH God. I felt the Spirit so strongly in the little car doing such a regular thing - and it was beautiful and powerful. I was strengthened and uplifted and blessed to remember other such times that meant so much to me. . . . Then I got home. And at first it was great but I suddenly caught myself sinking back into a rut. It was so fast that it was scary. I sat on my bed and realized I'd gone, in quite literally 20 minutes, from being happy and hopeful to down-right depressed and anxious. The woes and cares I left behind when I drove away came back with a vengeance. Now. I know running away doesn't solve anything, but for just a minute? I wanted to go again. I need to move forward. I need to stop getting pulled down by stuff and grab the opportunity that has been extended to me to do something different and something better.
How can you apply the instead option to help you write your new story? //
MY QUESTION THAT I WROTE TO MYSELF: What could I have in my life if I chose something new instead of the same old?
In this chapter, the story was of the servant girl who told Namaan that if he talked to the prophet, his skin condition would be cured. The author explains that this was probably not easy for the servant girl - she had been kidnapped from her home and forced to serve a new master away from her family and friends. Yet, instead of calling down curses upon her new master - she directed him to God and the miracle he needed to be clean. That's where this idea of instead comes from.
What could I have if I chose something new instead of old? I think I'd have hope. I think I'd have joy. I think I'd finally be able to see an option and a plan reaching in front of me to a new, better horizon. We cannot always choose the story into which we are written, but we can choose how to live it and that writes a new one in itself.
March 3, 2019
my 28-hour trip
This is very similar to my social media post so if you don't want to read it again - I'm cool with that. I just needed to elaborate on a few things and thought I'd do it here. :)
An American in Paris. Crazy experiences at DI. The best pizza in the world. All so I could do a three-minute business pitch in Cedar City and take too many selfies making too many faces in relief when I got back in the car.
I drove for SO many hours. Left Vernal at 4:30pm, drove straight to Hale Theatre in Sandy and arrived at 7:15pm with just enough time to go to the bathroom & find my sister before the show started at 7:30pm. It was great to see her and be with her for a couple of hours. And I really enjoyed the show - all eight ensemble women were on pointe and I was amazed. A great show and fun 2.5 hour break from driving. Got back in the car at 10p and after a quick break to fill up the tank, drove to Cedar City. It was a beautiful drive in the darkness (and RAIN! crazy hard rain from Payson to Nephi) and I got to set my cruise control and just go because no one was out and I could pass the big trucks when I needed. I kept thinking "This is where I need to pull over and sleep" but then I was making such good time that I told myself I could go a little further, make it to the next town. And then I was in Cedar! I missed the turn to the AirBNB I was staying at and that stressed me out and made me mad, but after a failed attempt to just grab a hotel room, I prayed and checked the map again and found the right place at 2am. I was pooped.
The pitch was at 1pm and was for a grant for the theatre. It was 3min of me talking then 4min of questions from the judges and then . . . about 30 seconds of feedback. I think it went well but we'll just have to see. I met some truly inspiring women and felt so blessed to just be in the same room as them.
I loved not wearing a coat but then appreciated finally hitting the cool mountain air on the way home. A sweet old man offered to clean the car windows when I stopped for gas. I remembered how much I love driving and how hilarious I am...in the car by myself. Lots of singing. I found a Disney playlist that lasted four hours. I was betrayed by my short cut road home and got stuck on ice while trying to get back on the highway to go the long way. Ugh. I was devastated. But I had pizza to get me through so I made it.
I was reminded why I love driving as people and experiences were brought to my memory and I felt ... like me. I was a crazy kid again driving all hours of the night trying to meet deadlines and explore places I’ve never been. I missed my baby and my husband like crazy. And I had a blast- just me and the road. Two old friends with miles stretching ahead and behind just thinking thoughts.
And I thought, how terrible that I almost let my anxiety destroy this! How awful that, more than anything else, I fear my weaknesses and almost didn’t get off my bed that morning. Not because of the drive or the people I’d have to meet or the uncertainty of map following but because I knew if anxiety tried to take over- I’d probably let it win as I have so many times before.
And yet...
Just once I chose to stand up, put on my shoes (not an easy feat while fending off a potential anxiety attack), cry while I packed the car and drive away anyway. All of a sudden, the anxiety melted away and even though it almost threatened to come back at 1:30am when I was lost, I made it. I did it. I prayed, got back in the car and found where I was supposed to be. I found courage and my crazy sense of humor that makes driving with me a blast. (Ha!) I talked to myself out loud for the whole drive and found God listening. I won a major battle this weekend, even if I got nothing out of it but memories of an incredible production & time with my sister, funny shopping stories and the best pizza ever.
Isn’t life amazing?
And Roy’s pizza. Totally amazing.
I need to remember this. I truly hope that I do. <3
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