Open Letter To My Little Brother

Dear Christian,

Now that you're back from your mission, I need to take advantage and tell you all of the things I didn't know how to say before you left. I know you will soon embark on your next adventure because you are too full of life to stay anywhere for too long, and you won't be afraid to take risks and run wildly into whatever the future has in store for you.

On the day you were born, not only was I blessed with a best friend, but also with someone who added color, spice, and meaning to my life. As a new mother, I have spent countless hours rocking my baby at night, and even though everyone says he looks just like me, all I see is you. When Emmett was born, memories I didn't know I had rose to the surface, and even though I was only 4 years old when mom placed you in my arms, I remember what I felt because it is exactly what I feel as I hold my son. The overwhelming urge to protect, to care for, to nurture, and to be whatever you needed me to be was present even back then, and as a little girl I wanted to shield you from any danger that came your way. As an adult, not much has changed in that respect.

I don't know when the hell this happened, but you're grown up now. I thought you would be my baby brother forever, but you've just spent 2 years in remote African villages, you speak 5 languages, and you have touched the lives of countless people. At 21 years old you have had crazier life experiences than most of the people I know, and I could not be more proud of you for that. My "protection" is the last thing you need, so instead, I offer my full support.

I want you to be wild and reckless. I want to get a 2am phone call because you lost your wallet during your impromptu cross-country road trip and you're stuck on the side of the road somewhere in Nebraska fending off a badger. I want you to show up at my door on a random Thursday looking for a place to stash your motorcycle so mom won't know about it. I want to wake up one morning to find that you and three friends have snuck in through the side window and are sitting at my kitchen table eating all of my cereal. I want you to call me on the 31st of the month saying you don't have money for rent tomorrow. I want you to drop off a basked full of horned lizards telling me they're the remains of a biology project gone horribly wrong. Whatever it is you need, I'll be here with open arms or an open wallet or an open fridge, depending on what's appropriate at the time. Never be afraid to ask for help, and never be afraid that it's too much... that's what I'm here for. I promise you my lifelong loyalty, devotion, respect, encouragement, advice, and unconditional love.

Someday, you'll meet a girl. Someday soon, because you're too damn charismatic and likable for your own good. Girls have been attached to you from the moment you entered High School, and it's a wonder you survived girlfriendless for almost two years. Teenagers are supposed to be painfully awkward, but I guess nobody told you because you never were. You've returned no longer a teenager, and have got way too much swagger and you're not holding back, so girls beware.
I need you to know that it's different this time. You're not juts looking for a girlfriend, you're looking for someone who has the potential to be a lot more permanent than that. Like, eternity kind of permanent. Even though you've just spent 2 years teaching others about that eternity, it's going to be scary as hell when you think you've found your own. It's okay to be scared. Actually, I want you to be scared. I want you to be cautious, calculating, and to really ponder and pray about what you're doing when you think you've found her. Right this second, I feel like no girl out there is good enough for my baby brother, but I know that's not really true. I know that you're way too important for God not to have someone freaking special out there for you to find. Go get her, and I'll sit here and try really hard not to be envious of your time. And remember, don't look for perfect or else you'll never find her. Look past "perfect" and find the potential for eternal happiness instead.

Lastly, I want to say Thank You. Thank you for 21 years of redundant inside jokes. Thank you for sharing that particular sense of humor that I have only ever found in you. Thank you for being my best friend. Thank you for keeping my secrets and allowing me to keep yours. Thank you for changing the oil in my car. Thank you for that one time you tried to teach me how to drive stick and we failed. Thank you for being super enthusiastic about food. Thank you for wearing that dress shirt at my wedding, even though you said you looked like a goldfish. Thank you for those 3 hours of driving around town getting sidetracked Harold and Kumar style even though we were just going to buy strawberries. Thank you for 108 P-Day emails, no matter how boring they got towards the end. Thank you for letting me be Kirby every single time we played Super Smash Bros. Thank you for the high-pitched singing of "Hey, Soul Sister" during the time your voice was changing. Thank you for introducing me to Lindsey Sterling and The Piano Guys. Thank you for being my support system when I want to vent and not making a big deal about it. Thank you for getting kicked out of band in high school, because it makes such a good story. Thank you for being straight up honest and never sugarcoating things. Thank you because no matter how annoying I became, the worst thing I ever got out of you was a "Dammit Damaris." Thank you for teaching me that even the most unpleasant jobs, like cleaning out the chicken coop, are made bearable if you have someone doing it along with you. Thank you for teaching me how to properly smile at a camera by demonstrating how to "show your teeth". Thank you for hundreds of "awkward hugs" that really aren't awkward at all. Thank you because your favorite "letter" is "the squiggly next to the 1" (~) and that always makes me freaking smile like an idiot. Thank you for always making me use a butter knife on butter. Thank you for killing cockroaches for me. Thank you for serving a mission. Thank you for being humble, friendly, outgoing, and never taking life too seriously. Thank you for being the kind of person that I hope to mold my son around someday. Thank you for letting us choose you, and for choosing us to be your family.

Welcome home, lil buddy.
Love always,
-d.

Lessons Learned at Walnut Ridge

Day we moved in, March 15 2014.

Today marks the last day we will be calling Apartment 406 our home. Soon after this post I will begin the long and tedious job of packing the remainder of our belongings into boxes so they can be ready tomorrow morning when friends and family will help us move into what will be our new home for the next 15 months.
I have mixed feelings about this place. As soon as we are settled into our new apartment I am ready to type out a most unflattering 1-star review on every apartment website I can find about this place: Our water heater breaking our first day here, our cars broken into 3 times in 6 months, the upstairs toilet leaking all over me and not getting fixed for 3 days, the incorrect dishwasher installation which flooded our kitchen and living room and took 2 weeks to fix, the neighbors who played awful music so loud our bedroom mirror rattled all night, the police getting called 3 times in one night and the apartment night duty still refusing to do anything about it, the stray cat who took refuge in our back porch and never left, the dryer vent being so full of years worth of lint it caused our dryer to overheat and break twice, and the limitless supply of roaches crawling all over the place no matter how much Raid I sprayed will definitely be mentioned in my review.

All in all, I'm glad to be moving out of this complex and into a nicer one, but I still have enough insight to appreciate the valuable lessons we learned over the past year and a half, and just how much Philip and I have grown as individuals and as a family.
Back in March of 2014 this apartment was definitely not our first choice, but it was all we could afford at the time. I remember it took every penny from both of our full-time incomes just to be able to pay for our rent, give the minimum payment on all of our credit cards, fill our gas tanks to halfway once a week, put $40 into savings, and have just enough left over to buy a  bag of dog food and groceries to make sandwiches. I took to extreme couponing, selling old textbooks on Amazon, and taking online surveys for a little extra cash. Phil used his days off to do some work on the side building house decks. Back then, our idea of a fancy date was spending $5 on a couple of Sam's Club hot dogs and sodas, and then taking half an hour to browse around the store carrying a bag of rawhide bones for our dog, for which we had carefully set aside $17. I suppose our priorities were slightly askew... but Venom was like our first son, so you can't blame us too much.

We have come a long way in just 1.5 years. The last of our many credit cards is well on its way to being paid off, we don't have bill collectors calling 10 times a day, we finally have ridiculously expensive health insurance (thanks a lot, Obama), we could afford to take a nice vacation two months ago, we have enough in our emergency fund that buying $1,000 new truck tires was not a big inconvenience, we spoil ourselves by eating out with friends on a weekly basis, we are preparing to move into a more expensive apartment and rely only on Phil's income, and most importantly, we are getting ready to welcome a very special baby into our family... plus all the bills that come along with him, such as mom going into nesting overload and tirelessly shopping for nursery furniture and decor. We have also outgrown most of the hand-me-downs that started us off as a newlywed couple: goodbye saggy old couches, scratched and wobbly side tables, mismatched bedroom furniture, ancient lamps that seemed to breed spider webs, plastic and warped dollar-store plates and cups, Craigslist dining table and chairs, and secondhand washer and dryer units.

I can fully attest our financial progress was due to the blessings of paying a full and honest tithe. Sometimes it was hard to let go of so much money, especially since just one week of tithing could have granted us a month of groceries, or could have paid for me to take a weekend trip and visit my parents in Los Fresnos, or could have purchased a much-needed pair of steel-toed work boots for Philip... but if there was ever ONE thing my husband and I agreed on in our ever-feisty relationship, it was that tithing came first and everything else would fall into place later. And we saw the Lord's promise being fulfilled time and time again, almost on a weekly basis. I sometimes think that it was purely the Lord's hand which kept us from robbing a bank. God helped us in very creative ways: a random $100 HEB gift card from my boss, an extra 4 hours of overtime for Philip, a late birthday card in the mail containing a $50 bill, an unexpected credit line increase just in time to pay for a medical expense, someone offering $20 to use our truck to move furniture, a friend offering to pay for a meal at a restaurant, and our absolute favorite: those months of the year which have 5 Fridays instead of 4, which gave us a whole extra paycheck to catch our breath, splurge on the good deli meat, and get wild enough to go to the movies and buy popcorn AND hot dogs AND a soda.

Early in our marriage, the life of an oilfield wife seemed very daunting. (Philip is an oilfield pipe fitter, in case you don't know). Philip works as a contractor, taking jobs as they come, and unexpectedly getting laid off as the jobs finish, or the project goes over budget, or if he makes a bad enough mistake (which has only happened once), or even something as trivial as an angry foreman having a bad day and firing the first person in his line of sight (which has also happened, unfortunately). It is not uncommon for him to start a new job with a new company 4 or 5 times a year... which makes gathering our W-2 forms during tax season quite the project, and also gives us about 2 to 4 weeks of extreme "in-between-jobs" panic each time it happens. And then, once he does manage to get started, it's the erratic schedule of the jobs themselves. Some are out of town, some are out of state, some are offshore, and some (like now) are overnight, which gives us a very limited amount of time to spend together.

It is because of the experiences with these jobs that I consider us a stronger, more stable family. I have learned how to be less attached, more independent, and to place my complete trust in his ability to provide for us. He, on the other hand, has been brave enough to take all kinds of jobs, work with all kinds of people, in all kinds of places, and trust that I am holding my own back at home, budgeting and getting our bills paid, and not burning down the house by forgetting to clean the lint out of the drier.

So all in all, I think we are ready. He has gained enough work experience to accept only the high-paying jobs and provide for us, I have gained the confidence to live on my own when necessary (I can change a flat tire while pregnant, guys. The extra weight actually makes it easier.), and we have both learned to trust the Lord and trust each other to make wise, independent decisions.

Although moving to an apartment complex 1 mile away may not seem such a big deal, I feel a strong sense of accomplishment because this move marks the end of a growth period and the beginning of another, especially since we are on the verge of becoming first-time parents. Goodbye Walnut Ridge, and see you tomorrow Camden Copper Ridge!

Sacrament Talk: The Joy of Repentance

I gave a short talk in the YSA Sacrament Meeting this past Sunday about The Joy of Repentance and I'm posting my talk in here so that a record of it is kept somewhere should I ever need it again.

Converts to the church are pretty lucky because they can always call on their “conversion story” whenever they are asked to give a talk; these are personal stories that are easy to tell, entertaining to listen to, and that much of the audience can relate to.

Although I am also a convert to the church, my conversion story is a little difficult to relate to because I was baptized when I was 10, so I was young enough to feel like I've been a member of the church my entire life. I do, however, remember my mom dutifully taking my brother and I to Catholic Mass every Sunday. I also have pictures of being baptized in the Catholic church when I was a baby, I remember the catechism lessons I had to attend so that I could have my First Communion, and I can probably still recite the Hail Mary prayer in my sleep. My parents had dutifully taught us all the biblical stories, and so when we first met the sister missionaries, much of what I learned as an investigator sounded familiar.

At the young age of 10, I did not have any difficulty believing in God, in Jesus Christ, or in the Holy Spirit. I believe that children brought up by goodly parents, as I was, are more in tune with the truth, and the existence of holier beings just makes a lot of sense. I also had no problem with the principles of faith and repentance and with the ordinances of baptism or receiving the Holy Ghost.

When I sat down in my very first primary class, one of my classmates asked me if I was a member or an investigator, but since I was not familiar with the Mormon lingo, I didn't know what to answer. Then she asked me if I was baptized, and I said “Yes, when I was a baby”. She responded “oh, you’re an investigator then.” And left it at that. I felt left out because, according to her, I wasn't baptized, even though I thought I was.

Learning about Joseph Smith, the golden plates, the Nephites and Lamanites, partaking of the Sacrament, the prophet Gordon B. Hinckley, the plan of Salvation, and Temples was sometimes a little confusing and too much information for me, but none of it sounded unreal. My parents were learning just as much as I was, and so I reasoned that if my parents believed that the Mormon church was true, then I believed it as well.

After we were baptized, we quickly became swept up in the whirlwind of activities that is the LDS life. In primary, I was having fun working on my Faith In God booklet on Wednesday evenings, and on Fridays we got together to prepare for an upcoming talent show. I made new friends at church and was always excited to see them, in fact, the girl who had asked me if I was a member during my first primary class remains my best friend to this day. My parents were welcomed with open arms into the ward as well. They were invited to FHE at a different member's home every week, my mom fell right into Relief Society and all of their crafting and sewing and cooking activities. My dad was called to work with the Young Men and never missed a Wednesday evening of playing basketball. And as a family we welcomed the sister missionaries for dinner at least once a week.

Today I was supposed to talk on The Gift of Repentance, and I was trying to remember a time when I was really in the wrong path and I had to repent and change my life around.... But I couldn't because there aren't many wrong ways you can live your life at the age of 10.

My family and I became so immersed in the Mormon culture that I have no recollection of ever making the big choice to repent and follow Christ, so I was a little stumped and couldn't find a personal experience to share with you today.

We are all familiar with the stories of repentance in the scriptures such as:

Alma the Younger, Mosiah 27

After causing destruction and persecution of church members, an angel of the Lord appeared unto Alma the Younger and the Sons of Mosiah and commanded them to cease their evil course. Alma was struck down and after two days and two nights he regained consciousness.

- repented of his sins and redeemed of the Lord

Enos praying far into the night, [Enos 1-6]

We also know the story of Enos, who prayed for an entire day and night.

-mighty prayer and supplication for his soul

King Lamoni, Alma 18 and 19

King Lamoni thought that Ammon was the Great Spirit, and Ammon taught him many things, including God, the creation, the fall of Adam, the scriptures, the rebellion of Laman and Lemuel, and the Plan of Redemption.

These 3 spiritual giants had a mighty change of heart, they had faith in the Lord and repented of their sins, and were born again. They had a definitive date of when their lives were changed and they sinned no more.

Although these stories are extremely admirable, I haven't been able to relate to them too well.

The BoM story that I relate to is that of the Lamanites mentioned in 3 Nephi 9:20. Here we have the voice of Christ speaking in the darkness, and he is inviting men to come unto him and be saved. Verse 20 reads:

20 And ye shall offer for a sacrifice unto me a broken heart and a contrite spirit. And whoso cometh unto me with a broken heart and a contrite spirit, him will I baptizewith fire and with the Holy Ghost, even as the Lamanites, because of their faith in me at the time of their conversion, were baptized with fire and with the Holy Ghost, and they knew it not.

They were baptized by fire and they knew it not...

That one small sentence sounds more like my story than any other. I was too young at the time of my baptism to really understand the great change I was making in my life, but it doesn't make my faith, repentance and conversion any less real. I too was baptized by fire and knew it not, but the process has been long, slow, and steady. Through almost 15 years of being a member of the church, I have had the joy of continual repentance and conversion unto the Lord, and this process continues still. Day by day I have moved closer to the Lord, mostly without realizing it. Each day has given me a new opportunity to repent and become more in tune with the Spirit and living my life how the Lord would like me to live it.

This, I believe, is one of the greatest joys of repentance. Not all of us will have huge, life changing events like Alma the Younger, Enos, or King Lamoni.... We might, but they are the exception to the rule. Most of us will become more Christlike throughout a lifetime of acts of service, church attendance, prayer, commitment, and daily repentance.

The joy of repentance is the joy of living the gospel day by day. We are in the middle of the plan of Happiness and we should treat it as such... Living life with happiness.

Above The Water

These days I'm really struggling to keep my head above the water. Or maybe my nose, because my neck is at times very much submerged.

I was raised by parents who placed a big importance on education. They were not the "tiger parents" who constantly pushed for better than my absolute best, but they did keep a close watch every report card and questioned me for anything lower than a 90. When High School came along, they melted into the background and pretty much let me handle my school work because I expected a lot better from myself than they did.
In HS, every point made a difference. All that mattered to me was how high my GPA could get, because graduating in the top 5% of my class was the driving force and ultimate motivation.
[There are unresolved psychological issues at play here, all I cared about was "walking the line" first during graduation and avoiding the alphabetical order issue which had plagued me my entire life because my last name started with the letter Z. Anyway, it did the trick. I was #16 in a class of 500.]

So I just wanted to mention and let it be clear that I am of slightly above-average intelligence, and that the "ok" grades have and always will be A's.
Given this information, please digest the following:
At this point in my educational career, I would be happy with C's. 
Learning is pretty tough at the moment. I am struggling to keep my head above the water. I have a persistent, internal, disapproving frown directed at myself because I can't seem to do better, and combined with other "life" factors [aka P being gone all the time] I have caught myself thinking pretty depressive thoughts.
One random day not very long ago, during one of my "sad because life+school=sucks" moments, I received a phone call from my dad.
[Priesthood power and revelation is a seriously wonderful thing]
We talked for a maximum of 3 minutes, but he sure knew what to say. He doesn't know that I am having my "moments", all I said was "school? well... school is a lot harder than I thought it would be". His response? "Keep your spirits up. Not anyone achieves this."  (Animo hija, esto no cualquiera lo logra)

Thanks, dad. I have been repeating those words on a daily basis, and they truly are helping.
I am nowhere near close to a Master's degree yet... but I know that day will come with enough persistence and determination. And it's true, not everyone achieves it.

Angry Birds Live

ANGRY BIRDS LIVE!

I volunteered for last nights YSA FHE lesson and activity, and decided to take an idea out of my Pinterest boards and make my very own Angry Birds Live game. It was a lot more successful than I thought it would be, thanks to the help and good attitudes of everyone who participated.

Here's what I used:

• 6 small, 6 medium, and 6 large moving boxes (Lowe's)
• I went overboard here, we really didn't need that many, but they survived the night in almost perfect condition and since apartment living isn't gonna be my thing forever... I know I'll use them within a year. 
• several green balloons
• 8 small plastic balls (Walmart... although if I had done Dollar Tree they would have been cheaper)
• 6 boxes of cereal
• These weren't really necessary, but I had so much cereal from couponing that I thought they would make a nice addition
• wrapping paper 
• 2 "soldier helmets" I found at Dollar Tree
• exercise Stretch Bands
• I was aiming for a big water balloon launcher, but no store I went to had them. I had almost given up on my Angry Birds idea when I passed by these at Walmart and inspiration hit. 

all ready to go!

I wrapped up the cereal to use as "bricks"

one of our set-ups

Some piggies had helmets

Pretty unflattering... not the best photographers lol

This was a pretty fun activity overall. I did go overboard with all the materials I purchased, so if you want to give it a try, I suggest using about half of what I did and you should be ok. 

deny not the gifts

Moroni 10:8
And again, I exhort you, my brethren, that ye deny not the gifts of God, for they are many; and they come from the same God. And there are different ways that these gifts are administered; but it is the same God who worketh all in all; and they are given by the manifestation of the Spirit of God unto men, to profit them. 

Last Tuesday marked the end of our Book of Mormon Institute course and we went over Moroni 10 as our final lesson. Although many wonderful subjects were taught and discussed on this day, there was one subject which I felt the need to share with those in the classroom and which I would like to write about now. Here's my story:

Imagine you are about to take a very long journey to another part of the world which you have never before visited. You have a long time to prepare, so you spend your days packing, learning a new language, learning about the culture, possibly acclimating to that weather, and wondering just what it would be like to leave all you know behind and step into a whole new world. When the time comes to depart, you feel ready and enthusiastic about your new adventure because you have spent a long time preparing and you know you have brought the right things with you. You have learned as much as possible and packed all the necessities for a pleasant stay, and so when you step off that airplane and into this new country, you are ready to tackle anything that comes your way, and more importantly, to find joy in your journey.

Now lets apply this same theory to the grandest of schemes: the Plan of Salvation. Before coming to Earth we all lived as spiritual beings in the presence of God. Although we did not have a body, we had our intelligence, our ability to make decisions, and the opportunity to increase our intelligence. It was then that we learned and developed aptitudes, talents, capacities and abilities of every kind. During this very long Pre-existence, each one of our spirits developed an infinite variety of skills and no two spirits remained alike.

Have you ever wondered why we are all so different from each other? Each person has several things they are good at and several things they are terrible at. The reason for this is because every one of us came to earth endowed with those talents we chose to develop in the Pre-existence. And WHY did we choose to develop those particular talents? Because we were packing for this long journey! Just like in the story above about a traveler preparing to visit a new country, our spirits prepared themselves to come and live in this world. We studied and we learned and we brought with us those things which we thought would be most important to get us through life.

Maybe you were born an exceptionally great musician, or singer, or painter and find great joy in that form of art. Why do you think that is? It is because your spirit decided that if you were going to get through all the earthly woes of life, then you needed to have your art in order to help you cope.
Or maybe you are very good at forgiveness and the wrong things others do don't phase you so much. Why is this? It is because your spirit knew that you had to be good at forgiving in order to face the challenges of life on Earth, so it worked extra hard during the pre-mortal life to develop the gift of forgiving in order for it to be emphasized in this life.

This list can go on eternally because we all have eternally different characteristics, but I want to add one thing: I keep repeating myself about how our talents help us "cope" or "endure" this life... but that's not all. Our talents also help us make this greatest of journeys the most enjoyable it can be. I know that each one of us has been brought down to Earth at exactly the right time and in exactly the right place. The Lord gave us each the intelligence we needed to develop our talents, and he put every one of us in the correct place for those talents to be developed even further. My spirit chose to emphasize certain attributes as tools in order to help me fulfill the purpose of my creation, and I am proud and grateful that I have been allotted that which I have. There is no greatest success than being ourselves, our truest, best selves, in order to answer the call which The Lord has extended.

I have received a strong personal revelation that all of the above is true, and I could not know it any better now than if I were to watch a re-play of the pre-mortal life and the creating of the Plan of Salvation. I know we all developed our gifts long before we came to this stage in the plan, and it is by applying them that we can fulfill the purpose for which we came. I believe in Jesus Christ and in a Heavenly Father who carefully watches over us and cares for me so much that he chose me to be exactly where I need to be. I believe in the Atonement of Jesus Christ, and that no one may go to the Father but through Him and His redeeming sacrifice for mankind. I believe in the great and marvelous beauty of the Plan of Happiness, and I believed that I stood firmly behind it because I, too, wished to live in the presence of Heavenly Father again. I know that this great goal is made achievable by the grace of The Lord, and that through obedience to commandments and righteously keeping covenants we can all live eternally in the Celestial Kingdom.

Drawings In Our Wallets

A few years ago Chris doodled a picture of a bird on a tiny piece of scratch paper and handed it to me and told me to keep it. It's been sitting in my wallet ever since, and it's actually the first thing I change over when I get a new wallet.

It's a crude drawing, but who cares? 

In response, I doodled an apple and gave it to him to keep, and he put it in his wallet. Today I got an email with a handful of photos he took at the MTC and then a second one that said "I totally still have the apple". 

It doesn't look much like an apple, but whatever. He also kept that dollar bill origami heart and quarter I gave to him when we were bored at a restaurant waiting for our tacos to come. 

In case you're wondering, yes that's my family on the left. It was the day my parents and I were baptized (June 2000), and Chris was only 6 years old. A sister missionary gave it to us glued on the inside of a BoM, and those have been our "family scriptures" ever since. He asked my mom to send it to him so he could use it to teach investigators. 

Anyway, the whole point of this post was to show what an unusual relationship I have with Chris. We keep each other's secrets and bits of scrap paper, we share inside jokes nobody really finds funny, and we have certain rules in life like "don't use a butter knife for anything but butter" and "if you see something shiny, go and see what it is". 

Man, I miss my brother. But I know the work he is doing is all worth it, and more important than anything else he could be doing at home. He is preparing to teach and serve and share the true Gospel of Christ to people he's never met before, but that he will come to love and care for as true brothers and sisters in the church do. I know that these people need to hear about Christ and his Atoning Sacrifice, and thanks to Elder Zuniga and all other missionaries, these people can find true happiness and eternal salvation. I believe in this gospel, and that Jesus Christ came and atoned for the sins of mankind so that we might all be saved and all our wrongs might be righted. Although I miss him more than anything in the world, I know that thanks to this gospel my family will all be together for time and eternity, and this short period of time is but a blink of an eye in the grand scheme of things. I know the Book of Mormon is true, and that Christ visited the American continent and commanded it to be written for MY PEOPLE, the descendants of Lehi. I believe in modern day prophet Thomas S. Monson just as I believe in the prophets of old, and that he and other church leaders provide direction and counsel to live a Christ-centered life in a time where immorality and chaos are abundant. This church has brought me a peace, hope, happiness, and a permanently positive outlook on life (and life after death) that I could not achieve on my own. Chris, Thank You for your sacrifice and willingness to serve. 

A Little Bird

Being a member of the lower-ish part of middle class basically means that you have just enough money to support yourself, but no real money for anything else. I've pretty much gotten used to the "save a little, pay bills and then have just a tiny bit left over for fun" lifestyle, but every once in a while it REALLY gets annoying. Philip and I have a few credit cards that we need to get rid of, and with all these job changes that have happened over the past 4 months our Ramsey-inspired system has gotten pretty screwed up, and we are basically just breaking even when all is said and done. (This is a little too personal, but really... not many people actually read these posts).

Every once in a while I'll have a mini-breakdown/tantrum about this and Phil will comfort me, get me to calm down, and offer hope and positivity to the matter. Sometimes the roles switch and I'll be the one talking sense into him until the worry and uneasiness wears off. (Thankfully we have yet to reach the stage of "screw it, let's go rob a bank" idiocracy.)

Now here's a picture of a beautiful bird. 

So why am I telling you all of this? It's because I wanted to share something that I re-learned a few nights ago as we were reading our scriptures. Matthew 6:26-34 reads as follows: 

26. Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your Heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much better than they? 27. Which of you by taking thought can add one cubit unto his stature? 28. And why take ye thought for raiment? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow; they toil not, neither do the spin: 29. And yet I say unto you, That even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30. Wherefore if God so clothe the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is cast into the oven, shall he not much more clothe you, O ye of little faith? 31. Therefore take no thought, saying, What shall we eat? or, What shall we drink? or, Wherewithal shall we be clothed? 32. (For after all these things do the Gentiles seek:) for your heavenly Father knoweth that ye have need of all these things. 33. But seek ye first the kingdom of God, and his righteousness; and all these things shall be added unto you. 34. Take therefore no thought for the morrow: for the morrow shall take thought for the things of itself. Sufficient unto the day is the evil thereof.

A long time ago a friend told me a quick, short story about a bird, which goes like this:

A little bird wakes up every day and works to find food and create a shelter, and every day it achieves it's goal. It never starves to death, and it doesn't worry about what will become of it the next day. Do you think God loves this little bird? Of course he does, that's why He takes care of it. It lives a happy life as long as it does it's job to find food. Now, how much do you think God loves You, His greatest creation? He loves you much more than a little bird, so of course he is never going to let you starve as long as you do your job. Just stop worrying, be like a little bird and just worry about today. He'll take care of what you can't manage. 

Isn't this a great story? It really touched my heart and reminded me of what I had forgotten; He'll take care of what I can't manage.

First Letter Home

So I've been waiting 6 long days to know that Chris made it to the MTC safely, and I finally got an email from him today! It's strange to write this, but I can already feel a big change in him, just by the short paragraph he sent me. Man was it great to hear from him... all this time I'd been worried about him getting lost at the airport and ending up in another country or something. He's asked me not to post the "personal stuff" up on his blog (which is totally understandable) but whatever else he sends is pretty much up for grabs. All the good info is going to be there, so there's really no need for this post other than to exclaim how wonderful it was to finally get that email from Elder Zuniga. I can live a happy life now :)

Tithing Miracles

Each blessing comes through obedience to a certain law, and although I have no doubt in this, there is one particular blessing which has been tried and tested time and time again throughout my life more than any other. It has been easy to see the results because they have always been so immediate, and there is absolutely no way they could have happened without divine intervention. I am talking about the law of tithing. Give the Lord 10% of your earnings, and he will return so many blessings that there will be no room to receive them.
I have chosen to record the many divine wonders in the following list. My only regret is not having done so sooner.

1. November 22, 2013. Philip was unexpectedly laid off 3 days ago and has been searching for a new job ever since. We expected him to keep this job at least for another month and then go right into a different one, so it caught us extremely off guard. Since we are in some debt, all of his high earnings have gone to pay it off what we could, so we hardly added anything to our savings. As of today we are still wondering how we will get through the most expensive months of the year and hoarding as much money as possible. Today, I came back from my lunch break to find a note on my desk from my boss. He has managed this company for over 5 years and never given any sort of bonuses to his employees. This year, however, I found a handwritten Thank-You note and $250 cash. I just want to go over and hug him... but apart from being inappropriate it would be the most awkward moment of my life. There is no doubt in my mind that this was an answer to our prayers. 

Double the Fun

Today's little delight: a basket of chocolates was being passed around during church today. Although I wanted to take two, I knew I should only have one. I reached for a Snickers and was pleasantly surprised to see the packaging was glued to a second snickers bar. It was fate. I was meant to have two chocolate bars today. Nom nom nom. 

Not Just A Quote

I came across this during my Pinterest browsing. It's so great. I needed to hear it.

New to Scripture Marking

Two weeks ago the YSA started a new institute course on The Book of Mormon. Institute has become so ingrained in my weekly routine over the past 4 years that I didn't even realize I'm no longer required to attend since I graduated two semesters ago. Our current missionary couple, the Petersens, didn't seem to mind the attendance of a married couple, so we showed up anyway.
I looked at this fresh start as an opportunity to find a good method for marking my scriptures since I've been wanting to purchase a new set but don't want to randomly start coloring all over it. I spent some time reading other peoples' own methods and didn't quite agree with any. Many used as many as 10 or 15 colors to mark very detailed subjects, and it almost felt like I would be doing a word search across an entire book.
The last thing I wanted was something like "how many times can you find a mention of Jesus Christ" because then my attention would be just on that and not on properly reading the scriptures. After some thought I started to make my own little chart and this is what I came up with:

• Patriarchal Blessing: Blue. Anything that relates to promises given in my patriarchal blessing or that remind me of something mentioned in there would be outlined in blue. 
• Personal Revelation: Green. Many times I receive thoughts that have absolutely nothing to do with the lesson at hand, but on how to deal with current issues or problems that need solving. When this happens, I mark the scripture in green and write my "message" on a green post it and leave it on the page. It's a great method for me because I never remember anything unless I write it down. 
• One-Verse Wonders: Orange. There seemed to be a need for this particular reference because some scriptures just hit home right away, and they don't always fall into any other category besides snapping me to attention. 
• Scripture Mastery: Red. This choice was made for me about 8 years ago when I started seminary. The bright red color on a page always meant there was a scripture mastery on there, and it was so ingrained into me that Red = To Memorize that it's now impossible to change it. This is a good opportunity to go back and re-learned whatever I might have forgotten. 
• Golden Promises: Yellow. Nothing motivates me more into action than the promise of a prize... this applies to life in general. I thought it would be a good idea to point out these scriptures and actually get me going. 
• Did You Know?: Purple. This one is not actually listed in my chart because I didn't know I'd be using a 6th color until about 15 minutes into my first institute lesson. It quickly became apparent that it had to be put to good use and mark facts that I had previously been ignorant to. 
• Questions: Pencil. My thought process: once the question has been answered I can go back and erase. 
• Cross References - Pen. My thought process: Cross-references will remain the same forever, so might as well mark the ones I find and make life easier. 

So far I am quite pleased with my method because it makes scripture marking a lot more personal. If several people would apply it, everyone's scriptures would look completely different. I'm working hard to finish the entire Book of Mormon with this system, and when I do I'll treat myself to a new scripture set and start all over again! 

on clean house and conflict

When I came home this Sunday night I was exhausted from driving for 3 hours after having some car troubles, and I walked into a completely trashed apartment. There were random pieces of clothing, notebooks, papers, pens, bowls, cups, pillows and other things strewn all over the living room. The kitchen sink was overflowing with dirty, oily dishes and other things (kitchen shears and knife sharpener) which should not have been in there. The garbage can was stuffed (why even try to put a pizza box in there if it's BIGGER than the trash can??) and looked like it had vomited all over the floor. Pieces of mail were laying on every flat surface imaginable, and my dishcloths had food stains and were balled up and thrown on the stove top. Further examination of my apartment revealed a mountain of washed (and now wrinkled) laundry on the bed and floor of the second bedroom, opened toiletries laying pell-mell all across the bathroom sink, and dirty laundry scattered so bounteously in the main bedroom I could have jumped from one to another pretending the floor was lava and not burned my feet. I had gone through great pains to leave my apartment neat, clean, and organized for when I returned, and so at 10PM after a weekend of traveling (I hate driving long distances) this was a recipe for quick anger and loud, obnoxious rants.
Philip is the deepest sleeper I've ever met. I walked into our bedroom dragging my suitcase behind, threw it on the bed, turned on all the lights, slammed shut about 3 open drawers, opened and closed doors, and proceeded to have the loudest most annoying conversation with him about how great it was to be home and how my trip was and how I loved it when he kept the house clean and waited up for me. He slept soundly through all of this. I finally got him to wake up by pulling the covers off and violently shaking him awake. And then I continued with my venting for some time.
One thing about me: I have a quick temper, but an even faster 'cool down'. Usually after 5 minutes I'm left feeling deep remorse for how I acted and I'm always the first to apologize. I've gotten so good at this that half the time I also apologize for things I know were NOT my fault, but that I could have handled better. This time it took a solid 30 minutes of folding laundry before I consented to go to bed... and then I said I was sorry (which I was). Neither one of us slept very much simply out of displeasure, annoyance and tension.
We are usually extremely verbal about our disagreements, but for the next 24 hours we became silent and passive-aggressive, which is quite damaging to our relationship and makes both of us want to be anywhere but home.
Then, while listening to an FHE lesson I attended in the YSA branch, a completely unrelated topic came to my mind. I was reminded of the bible story of Jesus visiting Martha and Mary, which goes like this:

Luke 10: 38-42; Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard his word. But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore help me. And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.  

And then it hit me.... As much as I like to live in a clean and orderly house, it is much more important to work on my marriage. I was being the Martha of this story and worrying about present cares while missing the whole point. I realized that the value of our marriage is much greater, and that the progress we make is eternal, whereas our apartment's cleanliness only lasts a maximum of 2 days.
When I came home he was still in a bad mood, but since at least one of us was willing to try and work things out, it got fixed pretty fast. Our apartment still looks like a tornado swept through it, but at least we fell back into the routine of prayer and scripture study and we both slept soundly last night.
We are both much more cooperative and happy to do housework when there's no conflicts between us, so I expect some dishwashing, vacuuming, dusting, and laundry will be done tonight.

A son's first hero, a daughter's first love

This past weekend I drove down to the RGV (Rio Grande Valley) to visit my parents. Even though I do this on a monthly basis, the road just doesn't get any shorter. I've grown used to sitting for a 3-hour stretch without a problem, but driving with nothing but the monotony of tires on the road (there's no radio stations out in the middle of nowhere) somehow exhausts me.
The primary purpose of visiting home was to empty out my old bedroom which somehow still has a ton of stuff even though I swore I moved out everything I needed 2 years ago when I came to Corpus Christi. There are more than several keepsakes in there that I can't part with, and although I disapprove of hoarding, I'm still planning on bringing my 300-ish books, a select amount of stuffed animals, and some photo albums and journals.
As I got ready to pack up on Sunday afternoon for my lame drive back to CC, I walked into my room and was hit with a pang of homesickness so desperate I didn't even want to go put my toothbrush away. My dad was looking in through the doorway and I have a thing for not showing much emotion around him, so I stood in the middle of my room and acted like an explosion of memories was not going on inside my head. My dad said how he needed that room to be empty for such and such thing (probably a man-cave, but in my desperation I didn't hear him) and I immediately started blabbing out plans for what to pack first and bring last and what could be thrown away. He interrupted me by walking in and giving me a hug. He said he was just kidding and that no matter how old I grew I'd always be his little girl, and that my bedroom would always be my bedroom. I really needed to hear that more than anything else, given that I've spent about 2 hours each of the past 3 Sundays bawling away in our bedroom because I miss my family, while my not-so-tactful husband kind of sits there and tells me how great it is to have the rest of our post-church Sunday to do nothing.
So after all was said and done, I ended my stay with leaving behind more personal belongings in there
than when I started. I'm sure I'll get around to hauling off everything eventually, but it's nice to know it can stay and collect dust for as long as it needs to. In retrospect, I think my dad and I have a mutualistic relationship... Sunday also happened to be the day when Chris completed his mission papers and now all he has to do is meet with the Stake President and it's all done. With Chris gone for two years and me off in Corpus with my new hubby, things are looking quite lonely for my parents. I'm positive my homesickness will not be cured any time soon (I'm always surrounded by white people and really need my culture) so I don't see myself staying away from home for longer than a month at a time. I look forward to the next time I get to visit and get a taste of mom's outstanding home-cooked food and another taste of Mexico.