2007: In My Gethsemane

This is a year I hesitate to share because what marks it is painful and sacred, so I don't discuss it very often; but the feeling I have is that someone somewhere needs this story.

To our joy, early in the year we found I was pregnant. Sadly, I miscarried in March.

I was very, very upset. That night when we got home I laid down in bed, in the dark and in agony. I was hurting both physically and emotionally, and prayed to my Heavenly Father, complaining that the pain and sadness was too much, and asked him to take it away.

Jesus Praying in Gethsemane: from lds.org

It didn't happen, but I remembered another prayer the Savior had uttered in the Garden of Gethsemane when he too faced more than He felt He could bear, "Father from me, remove this cup". I remembered that He too suffered physically and emotionally, and He also knew what it was like to lose a child. Jesus truly understood what I was going through.

There was no light for me that night, and all of the pain and burden remained; but I felt the Lord's presence and my strength renewed.

In the days following I wondered if the Lord, who knew infinite sorrow and suffering, had joy and happiness equal to His pain. It seemed only fair to me, but I really didn't know and I wasn't getting a clear answer by prayer and study.

Life went on. I recovered and stayed busy with work and church callings, and in a few months we were happy to find I was pregnant again. It was not an easy pregnancy. I got morning sickness (what a misnomer) rather badly, but it passed and I was able to work through Christmas.

Sometimes that Lord does not take our troubles away. Frequently we need the strengthening exercise  but He is always with us in the journey.

2006. Oh, what a year!

Aaron and I were planning our wedding an reception. I am not a crazy self absorbed bride. As a matter of fact, unlike a number of other girls, I gave no thought to my wedding reception. I was pretty close to not having one at all, but seeing as I have to deal with in-laws now, it would probably not bode well for in the family politics for me to be a hermit.

Aaron's step-mom, Julie, loved to plan parties and had connections. She could be a hard core, strict disciplinarian, and someone not to be trifled with. Be she was artistic and loved a party. I nearly went crazy picking out colors (she only needed two) and an over-all scheme. For someone as vague short of party imagination as I, she did exceptionally well.

My mom wanted to make my wedding gown. At first she had me sit down and look through pictures of wedding dresses online. It was torture, but I got some ideas of what I wanted. Then she made me draw a picture of approximately what I wanted. Over the course of time the dress evolved in concept until Mom decided it was time to start building it. It's a good thing I like Jo-Ann Fabrics because we spent a good amount of time there. Then there was the practical planning, where Mom wrapped me up in bits of muslin, and pinned them together on my body. Having sharp little needles so close to my skin made me nervous (I have a bit of a phobia when it comes to needles and things piercing my skin).

It took a number of fittings and planning and a few idea changes, but Mom showed me her work when it was almost finished. That day I was over tired and overwhelmed and when I first saw her work, I turned pale, swallowed a sob, and asked to take a nap. I thought the gown was hideous in that moment, but I also knew I hadn't slept a night through in a week, so I went upstairs and slept for a while. I don't know how long of a nap I took, but I felt better. When I came downstairs and there it was; the most beautiful, perfect wedding gown I had ever laid eyes on. It took my breath away. I couldn't believe it was the same dress I saw not 2 hours ago. No on had touched it or changed it in any way. The only change was my perception.

There was a bridal shower that Julie and her sisters threw and it was fun. They decorated in sunflowers, my favorite, and we played a few games. There were gifts. It surprised me because I had never seen so many in one place in my life. Mostly it was kitchen gadgets and useful things around the house that I could use.

Come to think about I had subjected myself to two or three gift registries. It was painful and I didn't think anyone would actually look, but there you go. People really do look at things like that. I guess that's how people knew what I wanted.

Aaron and I were married June 16, 2006 at the Detroit temple. It was a small, private ceremony (which suited me) and only a few friends and family members were present. Aaron's brothers of course pranked our car, but nothing damaging or embarrassing. And after some pictures and congratulations, we left for the hotel for the evening! Ha! No way I was going to have the reception right after the ceremony. Aaron was mine for the night. Our highly romantic first meal as husband and wife was Burger King take out. Woohoo!

The next evening was our reception, which was beautiful. We exchanged rings, did some dancing, and Aaron was a gentleman with the cake and kindly refrained from smearing my face with it. My favorite part of the reception came at the end when Tom, our DJ, played "Another One Bites the Dust", by Queen. We went and spent another night in a hotel, went to church with family the next day, then left for our honeymoon at a cottage up north, courtesy of the Barncard family.

After we got back, we lived a couple months with Aaron's mother, t
hen found our first apartment. And lived quite happily together.

My daughter is definitely a girl

How I know my daughter is a girl:

-she wears my perfume
-likes frilly dresses
-tries on my jewelry
-gives me fashion advise
-plays with dolls
-likes princesses
-experiments with my make-up
-talks a lot and very articulately
-likes flower coloring pages
-stands with her hands on her hips and her nose in the air when slightly annoyed
-struts with a slight hip sway
-walks on her tippy toes
-has a shrill scream when angry
-gives random hugs and kisses
-has a secretive smile that she shows off frequently
-enjoys tea parties
-she sings several songs a day
-thinks she's 30, acts like she's 13, but daily reminds us she's 3 years old

I hope she never changes...But ha! She's a girl! Of course she'll change.

The Year 2005

Important stuff:

In January I started taking college classes. I studied everything that struck my interest: Sociology, American History, Political Science, and taekwondo. I had fun.

In June I moved back the the Living Center Apartments. As I was filling out the paper work there was a question of roommate preference. If you had a friend living there, you could request that friend as a roommate. I couldn't think of anyone I really specifically wanted as a roommate, so I left that part blank. I got assigned as Jen Smith's roommate, who had a friend that always was hanging around. His name was Aaron Hancock and we hadn't spoken in ten years despite the fact we went to the same dances, on the same youth trips, had many mutual friends, and our families knew each other; but we knew each other's siblings and didn't get along. Se la vie. At least I found another job and wouldn't be forced to hang around with Aaron Hancock.

By the end of summer I managed to get fired from that job, but since I had enough money put away for classes and to support myself for
several months on a careful budget, I wasn't too worried about finding a job real fast. However, now that I didn't have anywhere to go after classes, I had to deal with Jen's friend.

In a couple weeks I learned that he wasn't so bad. In fact I learned to like his company.

One Sunday evening Aaron announced that he was going to join the Air Force, and it bothered me. Friends don't let friends join the Air Force (my parents met in the Air Force, therefore membership in such must be a bad omen); but then I wondered why I even cared. He was a Hancock, and they are trouble...

"Oh my gosh", I thought to myself, almost out loud. "I think I like him... Now what?... I must undermine this ridiculous desire to join the Air Force... I must flirt with him"

That night I asked him to join me for a walk. He declined and I thought I did something wrong. On Monday I consulted a book on how to flirt (can you believe people write stuff like that?). On Tuesday I went to work. When walking and on passing Aaron, I gave him the best, sweetest, most inviting "Hi" that I could muster. Once again I thought to effort was clumsy at best, but Aaron tells me it got his attention.

On Wednesday I attended a church history class Aaron happened to be in. I didn't have my scriptures with me, so I sat next to Aaron and shared his. We didn't say a word the whole time, but by the end we were holding hands.

Thursday night Aaron knocked on my front door, which was unusual, as he typically followed Jen through the back. The conversation we had went approximately as follows:

Aaron: Hi.

Myself: Hi.

Aaron: I take it you like me.

("Arrogant Hancock," I thought silently, "I can play at this too")

Myself: I take it you like me

(He shakes his head)

Aaron: Does this mean we should go on dates and walks and stuff?

Myself: That's a good idea, if you are asking.

It was a good idea, and we did go on dates and walks and stuff. In November we decided that marriage was the right direction to go and we got engaged.

As written, this story looks simplistic and short on romance, but courtship doesn't need to be complicated or adventurous. Just honest. Either you do love each other and can agree on the important things, or you don't and you can't respectively. We did and could.

lifted from: this website

Les Miserables: death by Victor Hugo

I saw Les

Miserarables last night, you know the latest Hollywood atrocity done against a classic... well actually it wasn't that bad, and it was nice to see Hugh Jackman step out of the "Wolverine" paradigm with out it being a cartoon.

I've never read the book, so I don't really know what Victor Hugo actually wrote. I suppose with a name like Les Miserables it would not imply a very happy plot line... but still, wow, could anything have been penned that was more depressing.

At least Jean Valjean dies at peace and the main lovers get a happily-ever-after; but no one else stands a chance.

Fantine: diseased

Gorvache: shot

Don't stop singing, Eponine! You'll die if you stop!

Friends of Marius: shot, bayoneted, and cannon blasted

Eponine: shot(?). Actually I think she suffered death by unrequited love. She took a bullet, but lived long enough to sing a lengthy duet with Marius who seemed ignorant of her affection until she was dying (singing?) in his arms.

Javert: suicide

Javert's suicide especially disturbed me, but I guess killing oneself is the standard way to die in French classic literature if a character is suffering from a moral conflict.

I didn't like Les Miserables, but when I think about it, I would've like it far less if Disney came along and cleaned it up for family viewing.

Sleep Deprivation Lab

Something about writing and operating a business is exciting to me. It makes me stay up late wondering what I'll write about or promote the next day. Naturally, I'm a little tired as a result.

Then life happens and Colin takes sick, so I'm up even later. I get him settled down and back to bed and go to bed myself hoping that's it, but sooner or later (I don't know which) Gideon needs nursing and changing, so I'm right back up, and after a half hour or so I'm back down.

Before I know it, it's five a.m. and Karyn wants a drink of water. She can get it herself and she knows it, but for some reason she thinks she needs to announce it while weeping outside my door. I take care of her and fall back in bed asleep.

Seven a.m. comes around, but I don't know that yet. I roll over to give my husband a rub, but instead of him, it's Karyn... and I'm too tired to wonder where Aaron is, send Karyn to her own bed, or even think about how she got there.

Around eight there's activity downstairs, so I get up and see what it is. It's Colin who growls at me because he's still not feeling well. Then Gideon wakes up hungry and starts to cry. After that Karyn, in bright spirits, comes down the stairs asking for breakfast. After I get Colin settled down and make sure it's only a common flu, I help Karyn pick her favorite cereal and talk with her for a few minutes. Then I change and nurse Gideon.

Now it's nine o'clock and of course Colin and Karyn want to watch a movie. Normally I would say no because it's too early in the day and I like the relative quiet; but what the hey. I'm too tired to argue, Gideon is asleep, and it's the new movie they want so I know they'll be relatively quiet for it. I get that put on and I think it's a good opportunity to take a nap... if only I hadn't locked the keys in the bedroom. Sometimes life feels like a cruel experience, but I know tomorrow will be a better day.

This image was lifted from Royalty Free Stock Photos

2003 - 2004

The day I entered the MTC, what was called "the raising of the bar" program took effect. They stopped teaching missionaries to memorize the discussions word for word, but instead know the doctrine really well and have an outline prepared. That was ok by me. I don't memorize the written word as easily as I can write it.

After a week at the MTC I re-discovered how little I like sitting still at a desk. Ever since returning home I got used to biking fourteen miles a day to and from work. I was scratching the walls and ready to lose my mind.

After two weeks I got used to the routine.

After three weeks they had us get on a bus, ride to the airport, and board a plane bound for Pocatello, ID. It was a little sardine can with wings, and a few of us with airplane problems were uncomfortable, but I was fine.

In Pocatello we met the mission presidency and their wives and spent the night at the mission home. The next morning we received our assignments and were driven to our first areas. I didn't have far to go, just down hill and in the very stake the mission home was located in, the Highland Stake.

My fist companion, Sister Porter introduced herself and claimed she was in therapy, then held up an injured finger.

The first six weeks in the field were the hardest for me. I couldn't quite get the hang of teaching a discussion without an outline in front of me. Then there was the fact that I wasn't that mature of a person and socially a little awkward.

At the end of the first six weeks I was almost ready to call the mission president and ask to go home. I just wasn't cut out for this. for about ten minutes I thought that way, then had a good cry. After that I remembered this was the commitment I had made. I was going to see it through.

That night I was told to pack my bags, I was being transferred. Of course they didn't tell me were I was going, just to be waiting at the Stake Center.

I they took me to Rexburg and my next companion, Sister Cole. She helped me finish certifying, taught me how to hold a half decent conversation, and introduced me to ketchup flavored Pringles and fruit leather. We had a lot of fun and took tons of pictures.

picture by Travis Lovell

I felt sad when I was transferred to Ririe, but before long I fell in love with the Ririe Stake. I had a good companion, Sister Starritt and we did a fair amount of teaching, and had a number of baptisms (including one that seemed to surprise everyone in the town of Ririe itself). Eventually Sister Starritt was transferred and Sister Romrell took her place. We explored as much of the area as our car would go and found homes and roads not even on the map yet.

My next transfer took me to the Blackfoot West Stake and my new companion, Sister Fredline. We knew each other from before the mission, being from the same stake and attending the same student ward. We surprised our mission president at not needing to introduce us. Maybe it's because we were from the same stake, or maybe it was her humor, or perhaps it was the fact that she was the only companion I ever expected to punch me in the kidneys, but Sister Fredline was my favorite companion. Sadly she was eventually transferred and Sister Webster came in. I think she was the most serious and focused companion I ever had and I wished we could have had more lessons and baptisms for her sake.

My final area was Idaho Falls, right in the same neighborhood as the temple. Initially my first companion in that are was Sister Song. There wasn't a whole lot of work to do in the way of proselyting, but the records were a mess and badly needed updating. We spent a lot of time tracking and finding places not listed on the record. The last six weeks, two new sisters, Sister Kohl and Sister Royston were brought in fresh from the MTC to work at the Temple Visitor's Center and to proselyte part of the time.

I wonder if Sister Song would have hated me if I told her the truth, and that I had indeed, when the mission president asked, told him that I thought it was time for her to train a new missionary. I'm sure she would have forgiven me.

In August 2004, my time in the field was over and it was time to go home.

I had a little bit rough start starting over at home. Jobs were scarce and dates were no where to be found, but eventually I found a holiday job as a contract seasonal letter carrier and saved enough money for college classes in the spring.

It was a couple of good years. My apologies to those I didn't mention. If enough people view this blog or ask about it, I'll write something more detailed.