Here's to 2015

They say bad things come in threes. I remember the first time I heard the phrase, I was watching a Feature Films for Families movie called "The Best Bad Thing." And in the movie, bad thing did come in threes. Even deaths come in threes on Grey's Anatomy (because Grey's a legitimate source), and I swear celebrity deaths too. I'm hoping that applies to bad years too, because I know I didn't drop a mirror.

I had such high hopes for 2014 after having two bad years. While I did have some great moments during 2014, it wasn't the banner year I was looking for. My whole year was tainted. Years from now I probably won't think so but from where I stand everything has been touched by that one moment. By spring I was a shell of a person, so devastated and confused I didn't know what to do with myself. I even gave up on my 2014 goals because what was the point?

That's why I decided to really prepare myself for 2015, because I want with everything that I am for it to be a banner year! I decided to look for and focus on the good in my life instead of being blinded by all the bad that had happened. That's why I'm participating in the 100 Happy Days Challenge. I wanted to be in a different place when the new year came around, to be prepared to see the happy things next year. If you want to see change, you have to be the change. I can see that change taking place in my heart and mind a little more each day. I start the day looking for something to smile about, even if it's in the mundane details of life. Because I want to live life joyful.

What are you doing to prepare for a great new year?

Why I still wear my LIVESTRONG wristband

I remember the first time I saw a LIVESTRONG wristband. I was visiting my extended family in Utah for the summer and I was sitting at my aunt and uncles dining room table, it was hanging on the fridge. My uncle had gotten them because his mom had been battling cancer. He bought an adult one, back when they were two sizes-adult and child, for my aunt but she had tiny wrists and it was too big. I loved my uncle's mom and wanted to support her, so I asked if I could have it.

I flew home at the end of that summer wearing my LIVESTRONG wristband. I felt so cool, I remember my dad asking about my wristband a couple days later. We loved watching the Tour as a family and supporting Lance. I don't remember if I remember watching the Tour de France for the first time before or after I got my wristband. But I remember my dad getting LIVESTRONG wristbands for all of us. I remember feeling connected, it didn't matter where we were or what we were doing because we all had that yellow wristband on.

My brother, Nathan, had his LIVESTRONG wristband on when he died in an accident and when we buried him. We were still connected. I remember crying the day a kid at school accidentally ripped my wristband in two. I felt like I would never feel connected to him again. I remember going home that day and ordering another wristband, and checking the mailbox everyday until it came. I remember slipping on the new LIVESTRONG wristband and feeling like my brother was right there.

When all the stuff with Lance went down, I still kept my LIVESTRONG wristband. Because my LIVESTRONG wristband was never just about Lance. It was about being a family and supporting one another. Did Lance make some bad decisions, yes but does that mean we shouldn't support the LIVESTRONG foundation? No! I can tell you each and every time I have taken off my LIVESTRONG wristband. I even worn the wristband in one of my best friend's wedding pictures-sorry about that! I've wore it in each and every family picture.

with my cousins Kira and Brynn

I was at a work party a couple months ago and one of the guys there noticed by LIVESTRONG wristband. He couldn't believe I still wore it. He said as soon as he found out about all the stuff with Lance he tore it off. He didn't want to do anything that would support him. I tried to tell him that it was never about just supporting Lance, it was about my family. Seeing my LIVESTRONG wristband reminds me that I need to live strong because my brother didn't get the chance. It reminds me to make my life count.

I still wear my LIVESTRONG wristband because my brother still wears his.

It Is Not The End

I wasn't ready to write this. I'm probably still not ready but you'd start to ask questions soon and instead of answering each person and opening that wound each time I'm doing it once. I'm not looking for sympathy or for advice. Honestly I've pretty much heard it all, and I know it's true but it's not helpful. Not right now.

One day it really clicked for me that my dad was baptized. He had missionaries teach him the gospel of Jesus Christ and he believed and followed Jesus Christ's example and was baptized. I remember even at that young age that I was so thankful for their help. Because of them and my mom sharing the gospel with him, he was baptized and they were sealed in the Washington DC temple and I was born under the covenant. I knew that day that I wanted to be like them. I wanted to share the gospel too.

Years later I was in some type of meeting with young men and women and they talked about serving a mission. They talked at what felt at length about young men serving. But they didn't talk about young women. I was irked by this. Young women were encouraged to serve missions too, not as strongly as the young men, so why weren't they talking about it? I raised my hand and asked about young women serving and they kind of glazed over it and moved on. It continued to bother me through all my Sunday young women's meetings when they would talk about encouraging young men to serve. Why weren't we told that young men should be encouraging us or that we should be encouraging each other?

I didn't understand it, but I still had the desire to serve a mission. It didn't matter if I had had the support from my leaders growing up; it was my decision to serve. The missionaries that helped my dad have had their efforts multiplied with each person my dad talks to. They, my dad, and I will never know the extent their influence has had. I wanted to be able to do His work, spreading the gospel so that whoever I might have taught would be able to spread the message to people as well. It wasn't for the rewards; it was so that I could make our Heavenly Father happy.

Really, that's what it boiled down to. I wanted to make my Heavenly Father happy. I wanted to be able to say at the final day that I had done everything I could to pay back what those missionaries had been able to help give me by doing the same for others. It didn't matter where I went, I wanted to serve. I'm a picky eater, I hate bugs, I don't like being hot, the list could go on. I knew my Heavenly Father would do the same thing for me that he did for Nephi. He would give me no commandment, or call, without preparing a way for me to be able to fulfill it. (see 1 Nephi 3:7) Once people started asking me where I would like to serve I could say with an honest and full heart "Where ever the Lord sends me!"

I had started my mission papers in 2012 and then was frustrated at every turn. I was "mom" for quite a while around my house because of one thing or another. This summer I felt like it was finally my time again. I started preparing myself to turn in my papers, including things my bishop had asked me to do. To be clear these were just his requirements not requirements from headquarters in Salt Lake. In October I had finally completed the requirements and finished my paperwork. From the time I reopened my papers to the time I met with my stake president was a week and a half. October 30.

I felt confidant. I felt like this is what I should be doing with my life. On the way home from that interview my mom and I listened to Nashville Tribute Band's Hardest Thing I've Ever Loved to Do. Listen to the song and then read on.

I bore my heart to my mom. Leaving would be so very hard for me, but more than worth it. Because how could I tell my Heavenly Father that I couldn't give him 18 months when he had done everything for me? And I knew that no matter how hard it would be for me to go, it would be infinitely harder to come home. I knew I would love the people so much that my heart would never feel completely whole again.

At the time the turnaround for a mission call was about 2-3 weeks. With each day that passed my heart rose and sunk. I have trouble with letting myself get too hopeful and then my heart shatters when things don't happen. I would get so very excited and then have to tell myself that this may never happen. Little did I know then that it would shatter so badly.

This was the picture I submitted with my papers

My papers were submitted and a few hours later headquarters called my stake president to talk about a few things. No big deal. November 1. I didn't find this out until he called my parents after having the opportunity to talk to me about it. We sat in a room for over an hour after he had called and told my parents instead of just talking to me. November 3.

Things are never dull around my home. There are seven of us. Mom, Dad, my two brothers, my dad's parents and me. Grandma had just come home from the hospital a few days before and we had family visiting for thanksgiving who had just left and more family that had come to town to visit my grandma because things weren't looking well. On the way to check on his wife, my grandpa hit his head and was taken to the hospital. We were all up most of the night worried. It turned out to be nothing to be overly concerned about. December 7.  

I was the only one that made it to church the next day, and I missed sacrament meeting. After church as I waited to talk with someone my bishop came out of his office and talked to me across the hall. In front of a handful of people I don't necessarily trust or know he asked me if I had talked to my parents. Then he said the sentence that still rings in my ears. "The Stake President wants to meet with you and your parents tonight but that doesn't seem like it's an option anymore." He also said "I had someone call and tell your parents this this morning and to call and schedule a time." I knew right then and there what it meant. 

I tried to stay stoic for what felt like hours but was really only minutes. I walked down the hall to the back of the church, out a door to a spot where I never park. That hallway felt like miles, like I would never make it to the car. I made it. I made it out of the parking lot and down the street before my heart shattered. Shattered hard. I knew what the stake president wanted to tell me and I knew I wasn't ready for it. I pulled in my driveway, pulled myself together the best I could, walked up the front walk, I walked in the front door and right up the stairs and straight into my room and right onto my bed. How was I supposed to tell my parents? How was I supposed to tell my best friends who had been rooting for me for months, years even? How was I going to be okay?

My mom was the first one to knock on my door. She was the first to know. She was the first one to understand that it was not all right and that I needed to grieve alone. She was also never known to hide her emotions. She walked down stairs and instantly my dad and my aunt Sharon knew. Hours later I told the woman who has become one of my favorite people; she has become family to me. They were the only four who knew for days. That afternoon my dad called our stake president to talk about it. Making me wait days for a meeting that I already knew what the agenda was cruel.  I was told that I "didn't fit into their box." There was no other option, it was a flat no. We also found out that he had known for almost a week, but he "didn't want to ruin our thanksgiving" That was not his decision to make. That was the darkest day. December 8.

I retreated to a dark place. I didn't talk to people or respond to any kind of contact except my mom and dad. I couldn't even hear about missionary work, let alone talk to the missionaries in our ward. Missionaries who had become some of my closest friends. I yelled at God a lot that week. Why would he do this to me? Why would he let my local leadership handle the way they did? Why would he tell me no when I had such righteous desires? I cried a lot and slept even more because I would cry myself into hyperventilation attacks and then pass out.

That next week at church was the hardest. I had already started attending temple prep but now there was no reason for me to go. I couldn't even bring myself to tell the teacher, I had my dad do it. One more person. I wrote my friend Lauren and told her. One more person. I wrote my friend Riley and told her and tore up the letter before I could send it. I wrote the sisters serving in my ward so they would know why I couldn't be around them right now and I tore it up. I didn't want anyone who didn't have to know that I wouldn't be going.

I didn't want people to look at me and think I wasn't good enough. I didn't want to see all the same pitting looks I saw for years after my brother died. I just wanted to pretend like it had never happened. It didn't help that I had people close to my family asking my brothers for years when I would be putting in my papers trying to glean information without asking me.

Some days it feels like years ago that I was told that I would never receive that white envelope and some days it feels like today. Some days I make progress accepting that it won't come and other days I am pushed thousands of steps backward.

For right now my immediate family, the kids I serve in church and these quotes are getting me through.

"The trouble with you is you want to see the end from the beginning. You must learn to walk to the edge of the light, and then a few steps into the darkness; then the light will appear and show the way before you." President Boyd K Packer

"In the sight of the Lord it is not so much on what we have done, or where we have been, but much more on where we are willing to go." Elder Edward Dube

"Everything will be all right in the end…if it is not all right then it is not the end." Sonny (And yes I do mean all right, because things will not be kind of right or mostly right-they will be all right.)

If you're reading this and you're going through the same thing if you only remember one thing I want you to remember this- It's okay not to be okay. I'm not okay but I'm working in that direction.