Wednesday, November 20, 2013

The Blue House with a Picket Fence

I am currently in a Multicultural Education class, and for that class I had the assignment of finding three items in my apartment that represented me ethnically, socially, and culturally. At first it was difficult, but I think these three items sum up my ethnic, social, and cultural background fairly well.

First of all, and perhaps best of all, is my apron.
This apron represents so many aspects of my current life and my upbringing. I love to cook very much. I gained that love from my mother (who gained it from her mother, who gained it from her mother, who gained it from her mother...), who was a stay at home mom my entire childhood. My dad has a nine to five job, and my mother always made sure there was a home cooked meal when he got home. We ate dinner as a family every night. In that way, the apron represents my white, conservative, middle class upbringing. It emphasizes the importance of gender roles in my background, and the value of good food to bring family together. Fittingly, I made the apron with my mother this summer. In a way I think it is symbolic of me preparing to fill a similar role.
Currently, cooking and baking are an important way for me to socialize. I frequently--several times a week at least--make food for my roommates and friends to show my love for them, and to create a social experiences.

The next item I chose to represent me is my calculator.
I didn't think of it at first, especially because I think this calculator is older than me, but this calculator also is symbolic of the culture I grew up in. My dad is a Civil Engineer, and has always taught me and my siblings the importance of a good education. He told us we could be whatever we wanted to be and to go for it educationally. Not going to college wasn't even an option in my home. It was expected for everyone to get higher education.  One of my dad's favorite phrases is that he is a proud "academic supporter." He and my mother always provided the support and encouragement I needed to succeed in school.
I am going to be a High School Physics Teacher, so I followed in his science and math footsteps. Fittingly, this calculator was my dad's. In giving it to me, he was also handing down the value of education and the sciences. I am so glad to have been raised in a culture where it is okay for women to get an education and where women can be interested and succeed in subjects that are traditionally male--like Physics.

The last item I chose is my paperback copy of the Book of Mormon.
It would be wrong of me to try to represent my background without including a reference to my religion as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It impacts every day of my life and how I view everything. I read the Book of Mormon every day. Currently I am using a paperback copy to highlight everything that I should do or be, either as the Lord specifically commands or as I see in the good examples of the people discussed.
However, the Book of Mormon represents so much more than just the time I spend studying it every day. It represents how my faith impacts my relationships, my goals, and my daily activities. There are many traditions that I don't even think about that shape my daily life. The way I dress, what I eat, where I am going to school currently, how I spend my time, all are impacted by this perspective. I grew up near Logan, Utah where the overwhelming majority of people were members of the same church as me. We shared a common vocabulary and expectations for our futures. Our shared background values families, education, and self sufficiency. Because of the teachings of the Book of Mormon and the church, those are the things that I and other members of the church focus on for our futures.

I chose to title this blog post The Blue House with a Picket Fence, because the phrase itself is symbolic of the ideas that I have attached to my three items. I really did grow up in a blue house with a picket fence. I grew up conservative, middle class, white, in the country, with incredible stability. I had never moved before I came to college. I was very much a part of the majority culture of my community in every way. It is amazing how easy it is to take my background for granted because no part of it was ever challenged or questioned while I was growing up. I didn't know there was any other way to live. I suppose many people must feel that way...

Tuesday, November 12, 2013

A Day In Court

Today I went to court.
I am in a multicultural education class here at BYU, and one of our assignments was to have an experience in the community that was different from our normal social experiences. One of the options was to attend a court session, and when my first choice option fell through, I decided that would be the best thing for me. Also, I was really curious about what goes on in court.
We showed up when the court house opened, but it turned out to be thirty minutes before the court session actually started. I was a little nervous because I didn't know all of the rules of where to go or how to act, but it turned out that they make it easy for people like me to know where to go. I waited in the hallway for a while to be let in, and watched the other people that were going to court that day. I was curious about their crimes and fate. There was a large variety of people from an old conservative looking couple, to young girls in tight dresses, to men with tattoos who smelled like smoke, to middle aged ladies in mormon-mom dresses. Then they let us in the court room.
At the front of the court room, off to the side in what looked to be what I would call the jury box, was a group of inmates in their jumpsuits. They had chains around their feet, hands, and waists. They clinked loudly when they moved or walked.
At first, it was really boring because a lot of attorneys were doing the technical part of the court procedure, delaying court days, getting the right paperwork, etc. They were representing people who looked cold and hard to me, galaxies away from my lifestyle. People went up when they were ready, including people from the benches near us, mixed in between the inmates. 
But then a man who looked to be in his late twenties stood up to take his turn from the back of the room. I had noticed him before in the hallway when we were waiting to be let in. He was wearing a badly fitting suit with a t-shirt underneath, and his hair was slicked back. He was thin with dark, curly hair, and looked very somber and reflective. He even looked nice. I noticed he gave his mom his wallet and car keys before they went in the court room and talked about someone picking up his car for him.
As he stood with his attorney, who was a small, older looking man, the judge mentioned that he was being charged with eight counts of sexual exploitation of a minor. It surprised me that this harmless looking man was here for such a horrific crime. It was clear that today was the day that they would sentence this man. His attorney began explaining his story. The attorney explained that this man had been involved in child pornography. But the story began a long time before that. 
This man’s father had never been a part of his life, so he was raised just by his mother. His struggle with pornography could be traced back clear to when he was a child and people near to him sexually abused him and exposed him to pornography through the years. He had struggled with other addictions including alcohol. His use of pornography was a real addiction that he would struggle with all of his life. When the police came to arrest him as part of a sting, he hadn't resisted or denied it. He accepted his fate. He had been very cooperative in the whole process.
The judge asked if the man had anything he wanted to say. In tears, he explained how he had never thought that what he was doing was right. It was an addiction, and he had needed help, but was ashamed and didn't know where to go, so he hid it and tried to run away from it. It always found its way back into his life. Since his arrest, he had been working to make things right. He began therapy, and was medicated for OCD, which had previously led to compulsive use of pornography. He was in college and had a fiance and a good job. His counselor had helped him recognize that there were victims of his addiction, even though it was easy to just view them as images. He helped him feel empathy for the children by connecting their feelings to how he felt as a child. As he explained how horrible he felt for the children, he wept.
His attorney and councilor plead for a minimum sentence because of the remorse this man had and the improvement he was showing. The prosecution agreed that he was doing well, but still emphasized the seriousness of the crime. The judge took time to give advice and most of all to emphasize that there is a victim to his crime, and that he was buying into a market that had a horrible cost. In the end he was given jail time, but only a few years, and no prison time. He will be on the sex offenders’ registry for the rest of his life. He can’t be alone with females younger than 18. He will be on parole for three years after he gets out of jail.
The attorney asked for a few days for him to say goodbye to his family. The judge said he had had long enough, and that he would be taken into custody now. He was allowed to say goodbye to his mother before he left. It was clear that they were very close. He came and hugged her right in front of me. As he cried and apologized to her for putting her through all of this, I started to cry. It really touched me. I felt sympathy for a user of child pornography, which is an emotion I thought I would never feel.
What an interesting experience. I stayed a little longer, but none of the other cases were that long or detailed. I left, feeling so sad for that man and what the next few years held for him. I feel myself cheering for him. It is amazing how much harder it is to dislike someone you don't know from close up. What an interesting, life-changing experience.

Tuesday, November 5, 2013

Halloween

I'm sorry that I haven't posted for a while. I guess there just wasn't anything I wanted to post about. My life has been great. The semester is really picking up for me, but I am happy busy, not stressed busy.
So Halloween was last week. What an interesting holiday.
About a month ago I was talking to my roommates, and as conversation has strange twists and turns, we came up with an amazing costume idea. With the help of the DI and misused makeup, here was the result at our ward party:
We were a boy band. The Synk, to be particular. I joked about being JT all night. It was legit.
Here is a closer view of my man face:
We decided that what really made us look masculine (not that I pulled it off that well) was our eyebrows which we thickened with eyeliner. Also in this picture you can kind of see my sideburns, which were pretty sweet. I tried to look scruffy with brown eye shadow smeared on my face. I pinned my long hair over the front to give me more manly hair. I still look like a total baby face. Oh, well.
What I had never realized was that it would be really hard to be a man. We tried to talk like guys, hug like guys, walk like guys, and especially dance like a boy band. I wasn't that great at it. I guess I'm pretty feminine. We had to try really hard to not smile, because that made our appearance of being manly fail even worse. But it was totally fun.
We had a couple of guys in our ward be totally weirded out. I guess we radiated mixed messages of masculinity and femininity and it was weird. We had a couple of guys tell us that they thought we won the scariest costume award for that reason. It was fun anyway. :) Walking around as a group and making entrances was really fun.
Best part? I found some awesome  man pants that I love. They fit and are soooo comfortable. I found my new camping/gardening pants. They aren't flattering, but the pockets are awesome!!
Willie also had a great Halloween so I am going to share it with your for him. :)
For his first party, this was his look:
Isn't that sweet? The mustache and the pants tucked in his socks just kill me. What a funny guy.
His second costume was Ron Weasley. I don't have a picture, but it was pretty great. He had a pet rat and a broken wand and everything.
But more impressive than his creative costumes is what a good guy he is. I have a story I want to share for him.
Halloween night Willie and I both didn't have plans. We discovered that a lot of people actually didn't have plans. It turns out that everyone thinks everyone else has something planned, so no one plans anything for that night. I ended up hanging out with Mindy and her boys, which was awesome.
But here is what Willie thought of.
He dressed up as Ron and got his friends together. They bought a large bag of candy and took his bedroom door off of its hinges (don't tell his management because he probably would get in trouble for that). Then they went through his ward and complex, knocking doors. First they would knock on the door, and then quickly they would cover the person's door up with Willie's door. When the person opened their door, they would be surprised, but given a minute and maybe some encouragement they would knock on Willie's door. Willie and co. would swing open the door like it was on hinges and hold out the bowl of candy. I like to call it reverse trick or treating--they took the treat to them.
Willie said they were surprised how many people were home and alone. They clearly made some people's day. Some people had nothing to do, so they joined the ranks and spread the joy. By the end of it, they had an empty bowl and happy faces all around.
I think a new tradition was born this Halloween.

Tuesday, September 10, 2013

Fall

It is that time of year again!
School has started along with homework, classes, new faces, and new experiences.
Sometimes I feel a nip in the air that gets me excited for cooler weather.
So for all those who have been following my blog, I have indeed found a place to live. Last weekend we packed all of my things into the back of my dad's truck and headed down to Provo with faith that we would find a place to unload all of my things by the end of the day. We looked at more places than I can remember. The one place I really wanted to live was full. They had one flakey girl that had two hours to show up and pay her deposit or her contract was void. We got our hopes up that I could take her spot only to have them crushed--she showed up 15 minutes before the deadline. I didn't get in.
So our plan failed. I stayed the night at my aunt's house with all of my things stacked around me. The next day the hunt continued. I had been on craigslist nearly every day for the last month. Finally I swallowed my pride and texted a girl selling her spot at Monticello--a lovely place that I had lived before and planned on never moving back to.
I went and looked at her apartment, and I felt okay about it. Rent is dirt cheap, it is across the street from campus, and my room roommate is an RM (which helped me feel better). So without the strong spiritual impression I was looking for, I signed the contract. I had finally come to the conclusion that it didn't really matter where I lived. God was allowing me to make the decision. Not only that, but He probably wanted me to learn how to make a decision. Hopefully I learned my lesson well enough to not have to learn it again. Considering how awful that sounds at the moment, I probably didn't.
I am loving my roommates. They are so fun and kind. I love my ward (even if some of the people are a bit crazy. They're nice and social). I got over not having my own room and not having a washer and dryer.
My classes are SO fun. I love my major!! Sometimes I wish this wasn't my last semester really on campus. But I really do feel good about graduating next April, so we'll go with that.
Also, I just have to say, I love BYU. I LOVE BYU. I am just so happy here. I guess I had forgotten in the last two years how wonderful it feels to be a part of such a beautiful, accomplished, friendly school. I belong here (in no way am I bashing other schools. By all means, love your school as much as I love mine!). Also, the Texas game on Saturday was awesome. Especially after we got absolutely drenched beforehand. Yay football. :)
So there is my boring update on my life. You can now stop worrying about me living in a cardboard  box on the side of the road. :)

Sunday, August 18, 2013

Aspectabund

Aspectabund: (adjective) Having an expressive face.
(Insert picture of me here)

Friday, August 16, 2013

Irony in a House

In an unexpected turn of events, my post about housing shopping as a metaphor for dating turns out to be true also for housing shopping. Who knew?
I am moving out of my house tomorrow, and I have no place lined up to live in the Fall. It isn't that there aren't places to live, it is that there are too many options (sound familiar?). I just want to feel good about one of them!! I just have no way to actually weigh all of the options thoroughly. I CAN'T DECIDE!
Decision making happens to be one of my biggest weaknesses. When I decide, I go for it 100%, but getting to that point is difficult. Maybe I am too picky, or not confident enough in what I want.
Here is what I think I want in housing, in descending order of importance (mostly. I'm not confident in the order either):

1. Nice roommates (hard to know considering I'm moving by myself. If I could pin this down, moving would be no problem)
2. Less than $300 a month
3. South or Southwest-ish of campus (near Willie so we can share a car)
4. A Private Room (so I don't go crazy when I start Student Teaching come January)
5. A not totally ghetto place
6. A Washer and a Dryer in my apartment/house
7. a complex so there is a social life when I want one.

Is that too much to ask? Maybe. The problem is that with my criteria I can't find anything, and without any one of those things, I am so overwhelmed by options that it might be next April when I finally do decide.
But seriously.

P.S. I am learning to hate the Branbury for littering every rental search site with hundreds of postings. I will never live there.

Tuesday, August 6, 2013

A Sad Tale of a Tomato Plant

Ever since I moved away to college, I have had the dream of growing some of my own produce. Not a full garden, because I don't have space or time, but a couple of plants on my balcony or something.
Well, this year that dream came true. I live in a house (a super cute house, might I add) that has a yard. I have lived here for the whole summer--the whole growing season. So I had to grow a plant. I decided on a tomato plant for a few reasons.
First, it isn't too high maintenance. Second, it can be grown in a pot, so when I move I can take it with me. Third, you can get a lot of fruit off of just one tomato plant. And Fourth, I love tomatoes.
It was a plan. So I went to Walmart with my mom and picked out my plant. My dad helped me pot it, and we were good to go. I took diligent care of that plant. I tried to not water it too much or too little. I fertilized it every once in a while. I checked on it to make sure it was doing okay.
Then the summer started to heat up in Provo -- we are in the nineties every day. With the sun beating down on my poor little plant, it started to wilt. I watered it more often, which helped, but even when the soil was damp, in the middle of the day it would start to droop. My poor plant! I still had high hopes for tomatoes because it continued to grow despite the heat.
Then one weekend, I went home to be with my family. I asked my roommate to watch after my plant and to water it while I was gone. She is a very trustworthy roommate. When I got back I rushed to look at my tomato plant, and everything was all wrong. Some of the biggest branches were gone or bent sideways! It turns out that while I was gone there was a HUGE wind storm and it blew so hard that it broke off large parts of my plant. I was so sad!
I kept watering it, and the plant survived. some of the bent branches seemed to heal that way and continued to grow. All of the baby tomatoes that had started growing on the plant had fallen off in the storm, but the plant started putting out new blossoms. My hopes were raised again.
Eventually some of the baby tomatoes actually turned red! Wahoo! I went to pick them and found that the bottom half of the two tomatoes were soft and rotten. Ew! What? There were still more tomatoes coming, though, so I would have to wait a little longer. More blossoms started to bloom near the top of the plant. I was learning patience.
One morning I went to water my plant, and again, everything was wrong. All of the little blossoms that had been there the day before were gone. The tall branches were nipped off at the top. All over the plant were branches ending in a sharp point with no leaves left. Once again, I was s confused. It looked like either 1) someone weed whacked my plant, or 2) something had eaten it. But no grasshopper could do the damage I saw. It must have been an animal... I told my roommates about it, and one of them mentioned seeing a deer in our yard at night once. In the middle of Provo! That crazy deer had eaten half of my tomato plant! Once again, all of the blossoms are gone. My plant has to start over again. And I still haven't eaten a single tomato.
Maybe I'll wait until I can have a real garden to try growing a plant again. For now, I will continue to cross my fingers that this plant will someday produce at least one edible tomato before some other disaster strikes...
The saddest tomato plant alive

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

HOME

Last weekend, my little brother Willie returned after serving an honorable full time mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints in the Oklahoma Tulsa Mission.
I can't even tell you how excited I was to have him home.
As we picked him up from the airport and took him home for the first time in two years, I watched him closely, remembering how I felt four months ago. I watched him hug his parents, walk into his childhood home, and be released by the stake president. I cried for him. I also mostly cried for myself, remembering how I felt not that long ago when I went through all that. I think I've come a long ways, but I still remember how there were so many mixed emotions.
But as I watched Willie walk into our house for the first time, I looked up and saw a sign hanging on the family room wall that reads, "HOME". I thought about what he might think about when he looked at that sign. Then I realized that he might not have noticed it at all, and I thought about what it meant to me right then. To me, that sign reminded me that I felt more at home now, with Willie home. Home was now more HOME with him there. I cried again.
I'm getting a little sappy, but it is a true story about my thoughts with him returning. I am just so happy to have one of my best friends home again. Upcoming this weekend our family will be together.
Completing our HOME.

Thursday, June 27, 2013

Joy

I am so happy!!!
My big news is that I received a message today from a family that I taught on my mission that they were sealed in the temple! A mom, dad, two little girls and a baby boy. I can't even express everything that I feel about that. I am just so happy that they received ALL of the blessings of the gospel. They did it! Of course, they have a whole life left, but I know that the impact it will have on their children is immeasurable.
The best part is that I know I had almost nothing to do with it. God blessed me to be there to witness the miracle of the father's change of heart and commitment, but He had been working with him all the time. This family was prepared. The spirit touched hearts. He was baptized. And now they are sealed for eternity.
Life is hard and full of so many difficulties, but really God wants us to be happy and have the fullness of blessings. He wants us to have joy. And that is what I am feeling right now. :)

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Christmas in June

I know that this is my third post of the day, but I just had to share this with you.
Today I went and saw Monster's University with my roommates (which I loved), and on the way home, my roommate played for me this song.

The worst Christmas song just got even better.


 Be patient. It gets even better.

Listen to This

So I discovered this today and had to share it. It is SO well phrased.
"The Inconvenient Messiah" by Jeffrey R. Holland, BYU Devotional February 15, 1982.
I recommend listening to it rather than reading it because the transcription isn't perfect.

Growth

I think life is amazing. The longer I live, the more I see that God's plan to help us learn--life--is really well designed. It is so real, so hard, but possible. Every experience has built in learning experiences, difficulties, and chances to use our agency. He set everything up so that we could maximize our learning time here.
This week I have been thinking about growth. I only understand it on the level I'm at, but I'm starting to get a picture. When I was a little kid, I never wanted to grow up. Being grown up looked so much more complicated and boring. Growing just looked painful and unrewarding. What I didn't understand is that at that stage in my life, I couldn't even comprehend the joys of memories built up, being able to help people outside of myself, and of work well done.
I'm sure you know this, but little kids brains are still developing. Actually, experts agree that a person's brain is still growing and developing until they are around 25. So I'm not even there yet! (and I'm sure that I will continue learning more perspective with my fully developed brain after that.)
When a kid is still a kid, it is physically impossible for them to truly understand abstract ideas (they don't have deductive reasoning skills, and logical stuff is beyond them). They don't have that part of their brain yet. But the thing is, they don't know that they can't think as well as an adult. They feel like their brain is all there and that there isn't any part of a situation or conflict that they can't understand. They know that there is stuff they don't know, but they feel like they are capable of understanding everything. They aren't.
I feel like that is very similar to our relationship with God. Sometimes I feel like I am able to understand the big picture, that I am able to understand the purpose of life and why things happen. But then I am reminded that "For my thoughts are not your thoughts and your ways not my ways, saith the Lord" (Isaiah 55:8). If it all made sense, I would know it wasn't from God because I am not able to think the way He does. It is physically impossible for me to understand everything. My brain is not fully developed--even if I was older than 25, my brain still wouldn't be fully developed. Even if God sat down and explained everything to me in words I understand, I still don't think I would understand it all. I have to wait for resurrection day for a perfect brain, and even then I'm sure there will be a learning curve.
I'm not saying we shouldn't try to understand everything, because we certainly try to teach our children everything that they can grasp. But we shouldn't get frustrated with God when He doesn't make sense in our logic. The "God logic" part of our brains hasn't developed yet. It does make me look forward to learning more and more and someday, in a long time, my understanding will grow to a perfect day.
What I do understand now is that growth is necessary for progression. Growth by definition is change. Therefore, change is required for progression. I just have to be soft enough for God to change me and my perspective and my thinking in the right direction. I also have to be hard enough so that Satan or the World can't change me in the opposite direction.
(I'm not sure that this will make sense to anyone but me, but there you go.)

Thursday, June 13, 2013

And the Award Goes To....

Winner of the "I'm seriously using this pick-up line to seriously ask you out" award:
Young man in my physics lab:
"Are you accepting applications for boyfriends?"
In case you are wondering, the answer is yes. Literally. But you will have to print out the application yourself, because I don't want to have to spend money paying for the 10 pages per applicant...
(haha. This is where you laugh. Because I really am not that prideful...)

Written later:
I retract the above statement. The award might actually go to the student who wrote this on his paper as part of his discussion of the lab that he knew I would be grading (I don't even know who he is):
"Also, April, if you can read this or even get this far we should out sometime! You're super cute! Text me! (*insert phone # here*) But anyways, back to physics. If you and me were in a boat together, I would have to jump out and swim because I'd be too heavy, but you hardly displace any water."
You gotta give the guy some points for bravery. Well, both guys. They seem to be nice people, if a bit forward. I don't understand men.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Dating and Vacationing

Hey all!
The subject of today's post: Dating.
Yeah, yeah. I know you are sick of it.
But I have not been allowed to forget about it, so neither will you.
See, since I returned from my mission, there seems to be an invisible-to-me, shiny sticker that says "RM" on my forehead. Guys that don't really even know me are asking me out in droves.
I am not complaining, because on an individual basis, they have been very nice guys and have treated me very well, but it has been a little overwhelming as a freshly (I guess now, not-so-freshly -- three months!) returned missionary. Sometimes I get burned out.
Yesterday, I decided the reason for it is that dating is like going on vacation.
Vacations are nice and exciting, and you get to try new foods and do new things. They are something out of the ordinary, an adventure, something to look forward to.
But what happens when you are going on vacation once a week or maybe twice or three times? Then suddenly, because you are seeing so many places, it is hard to see the good qualities of any of them. It becomes less adventurous and exciting. It becomes ordinary.
I normally don't like analogies, but let's take it to the next step.
See, what is actually going on, is our imaginary vacationer is looking for a place to live. And when she goes vacationing places to see if it is the place she wants to live, then they "wine and dine" her so to say. The town shows her the nice restaurants and art and museums and leaves the factories for another day. Sounds like dating, right?
So if she is going to so many vacation sites so often, she will never know anything but the dancing, and the music, and the fireworks. She will never find out what it would be really like to live there. And pretty soon, all of the restaurants and shopping and beautiful vistas all start looking the same. And she is tired and just wants to eat breakfast in the same place for two days in a row. But now she is stuck and could never pick, because she can't decide between so many options (but not really options, because she didn't really see any of them through her tired eyes), and she doesn't want to decide on a place to live just because she is tired of looking. But really, they are the ones scouting her out, so the options continue to increase. She isn't even house hunting. Houses are hunting her! Okay. Now this is getting confusing and creepy.
So our imaginary vacationer is stuck. Too many options. No options that have actually been explored. And tired eyes and feet and back.
I guess maybe she is just hoping that someday she will accidentally find herself in a place that is home. A place that is sweet and simple and the food is good, but also filling. A place that has a nice folding chair under a tree where she can put up her feet and take a nap and never want to leave. The local business isn't flashy, but it supports families that are really nice and open, and hang their laundry outside. They aren't begging for her attention, but when she is ready to ask them about their lives in this place, they tell her stories that are funny and serious and real. They politely offer her a place and show her how she could fit into this community and tell her that they would love to have her because she smiles easy, tries her hardest, and can get dirt under her fingernails sometimes.
And suddenly she finds it--the perfect house. Not too big, not too small.
With happiness painted all over the walls and growing in the flower boxes.

Substituting

When I came home from my mission I badly needed something to be my time-filler, my purpose, my substitution for the lifestyle of hard work I was so used to.
So I became a substitute teacher.
This was probably one of the best things I could have done, considering that it can be a temp job (I only needed a job for a month or so until I could work on campus at BYU), I choose when I want to work, and it is a great experience for what I plan to do with the rest of my life: be a teacher.
It wasn't what I expected it to be, but it has been wonderful. I thought I would share some of my experiences with you.
First of all, I was expecting to hopefully be mostly subbing in a high school setting because that is where I will teach someday. That turned out to be a false hope because most sub jobs are in elementary schools. For some reason, all of the jobs I can get are in 1st and 2nd grades. The opposite end of the spectrum from high school.
My first day on the job was in a first grade class. When I arrived at the front office to check in, the secaretary expressed her condolences for the class I was about to be in charge of for the day. "They are a handful,"she said. "If you need help, just call. You can send kids to neighboring teachers, too."
Oh, great. Just throw me in the deep in and let's see if I can swim.
The teacher was there to greet me, because she actually would be in the school all day doing individual testing for other students. She told me that this was was the worst class she had ever had. Nothing she had left for me to do was essential. "Your job is just to survive today," she told me. Wow. Very reassuring.
The day actually was that bad. It was real mutiny. I lost kids to the hallway, they were hurting themselves and others, they couldn't listen to directions, and I had some serious liars in the class. It was crazy.
I wondered for a bit if I was really just bad at subbing, but as the days went on, I think I've gotten the hang of it. One of the biggest things I have learned is that the Teaching Skills chapter in Preach My Gospel is true. But really. One of the things that it says is that you need to be bold but loving. That is so true in the classroom.
One day I went to a class that the teacher originally thought she only needed a sub for the second half of the day. Last minute she decided she needed a sub for the whole day, so there was a different sub for the morning, and then I came in half way through. The first sub was having a hard time of it. She told me that the kids had been horrible for her, and that she had taken away their recess they would have later in the day with me. She informed me that these second graders were to write a letter to their teacher about how they should behave for a sub and how they were behaving. I saw right away that that was not going to happen. The principal had been involved already that day, and the kids were wound up. They really needed something positive to wind them down, not something negative to make it worse.
She told me that she had been subbing for a year and that she had worked for two years previously at a bad boys' school--nothing could compare to that, she said. She was confident in her classroom management skills.
But then I watched her for her last five minutes while I read the lesson plan. She definitely had the bold confidence down, but the kids weren't responding to it. What it lacked was love. There wasn't a smile on her face. It was so clear that the kids didn't care what she thought because she didn't care what they thought. hm.
The other cool thing about subbing in elementary school is that the kids don't have boundaries in between things in their brain. Everything is all part of the same reality.
Let me clarify. I read a book with a small group of kids aside to read with me in a first grade class one day. We read a book about a dog who decides that he would rather have his friend than be famous. A big part of reading with kids is helping them build connections to the book, so we talked about the moral of the story, which is that we need to stick by our friends and that that is worth more than a lot of things. I was talking about friendship when one boys spoke up and said, "Well, you don't even need friends, really. All you need is Jesus and your family." He said it so confidently and unhesitatingly. I wanted to meet his parents.
But since it was a public school setting, all I could say was, "Well, your family can be your friends, too" and silently think, "And Jesus can be your friend, too."
Along the same line of thought, I have realized that filters of all kinds develop at later ages. I feel so pretty when I sub, because I will have four or five girls crowd around and tell me that I am beautiful and that they love my shirt and necklace and hair. I also feel very old, because every first grader wants to know how old the sub is.
In one of the second grade classes I was in, there was a student who had the same last name as me. I had five or six of the students ask me if I was his mom--do I look that old? When the answer was no, I found out that there was a teacher with the same last name as me--"are you married to him?" Nope again. Oh, dear. I hope he didn't hear about it, too.
I have also discovered what motivates that age group (which I think will be very useful later on in life). All I had to do was threaten to write their name on the board, and they would settle right down. Oh the embarrassment of seeing your name written on the board in front of all of your friends!!
Then there were the disruptive students that that didn't work for. For some of them, the trick was to help them feel useful. If they felt like they were doing me a favor, they would do anything. They just wanted to be my special helper. " (*insert name here*) could you help me by being a good example and showing the other students how to be quiet and work hard? It will really help me out. Thank you!" It worked almost every time.
So, if you are planning on being a teacher and have time for it, become a substitute. No faster way to learn how to swim than getting in the water. :)

Monday, April 22, 2013

Honor the Priesthood

"Honor the Priesthood"
A very familiar phrase that I realized that I am not sure that I entirely understand. In talking to my family and friends we have agreed on a few points that are part of honoring the priesthood, which are:

1) worthiness to hold the priesthood, which is very similar if not identical to temple worthiness
2) using the priesthood to serve (in callings, home teaching, etc.)
3) looking for opportunities to serve outside of church duties

But I don't think those things capture the entire spirit of the phrase. When I think of honoring the priesthood, I think of it more as an attitude and a way of living. The man realizes that what he holds is sacred and he shouldn't do or be exposed to anything that would defile its sacredness. He realizes that he holds something precious and special that leads him to be better than ordinary.
The other thing that comes to mind are the three P's of a man's role in the family: preside, provide, protect. I think those fall under the category of honoring the priesthood.
All that said, I think these videos capture what I am really trying to say best of all.

This first one really captures it best, I think. It shows the life of a man who really uses and honors his priesthood for his whole life. Artfully.

This next one is moving and shows the blessing of honoring one's priesthood.



But really, what do you think? Do you have a short answer of what honoring the priesthood means?

Thursday, April 4, 2013

Confessions of a Freshly Returned Missionary

Well, hello everyone.
I'm back. :)
I've actually been back for almost a month now (crazy!), but I hadn't gotten around to blogging yet.
See, coming home from a mission is a HUGE adjustment. Much more so than I had anticipated. Everyone gives the new missionary in the field some slack for the first couple of months, but the freshly returned missionary gets sympathy for only a few days. And then everyone continues to tease them for still being awkward.
I keep typing and deleting attempts to express how I feel about the subject, and some are humorous, and some aren't. It is just strange. My inability to express it really reflects the confusion I feel when facing who I am, what I want, what I am doing with my life, etc. Here are a few short disconnected insights into the last few weeks of my life that depict my adjustment:

When the airplane's wheels lifted off of Missouri soil, I burst into tears, making my companion (who was an elder, by the way), feel very uncomfortable.
When my parents ran to give me my first hug at the bottom of the airport elevator, I was both grinning and crying and said, "This would be the worst day of my life, except I get to see you."
A couple of days after I got home my parents had a busy night and told me their plans to leave me home alone. I nearly panicked. Instead, I finagled my way into my mom's birthday committee to knock on random member's doors in our neighborhood. Flashback!
A week and half after I got home I decided that I should probably start listening to normal music again. I pulled up my old music and pressed play. Tense, I started listening to discover that I still like my old music. I promptly started crying again. Great. For those of you who knew me before my mission I have a pretty big guilt complex. It is now even worse.
I have had four sets of parents at stake conference, the owner of a clothing store that knows my dad, and members of my home ward all imply or right out say that I should get together with their sons. That doesn't include the two old men that hit on me at the DI, the guy at the health department that was a bit overly friendly, and a young man from my home stake that told at least five separate people that we were dating.
Talk about Overwhelming!
That makes it sound like I am uber attractive and dateable, but that is still not true. I went on my first date back with a super nice guy that I have wanted to see, and I froze. I really had nothing to say. I didn't want to be that RM that only talked about their mission all of the time, but I realized....I have nothing else to say. Awkward silence. But then he brought up missions and was fine with it, so I was able to chill out (don't get me wrong, I am sure I am still very awkward). But he hasn't really talked to me since...
I frequently accidentally call my friends "Sisters", semesters "transfers", and roommates "companions". I also have to translate my name from Sister Atkin into April whenever I say it out loud.

I think the reason it was so hard to come home was because it felt like I never left. As we drove through Sardine Canyon toward my childhood home, it didn't feel like it had been any time at all. That scared me. The experiences I had in Missouri and Kansas are so important and sacred to me, that it scares me to think they didn't happen or that I could lose that. It was hard to let it go and trust that they did happen and that I am different now because of that. I won't lose the things that I learned. Now is the time for me to start a new phase of my life and let it go. I need to be happy now and not look back at the "glory years". I am here now, and happy about it. God has a plan for me.
So warning to parents of soon returning missionaries: It Is Hard. Fact.
I don't know if anyone warned me how vulnerable I would feel when I was freshly back. The second week after someone gets home is a great time for them to mess up because they have to realign their boundaries and standards (down, actually. And that is okay), and could easily err the other way (maybe I'm the only one that feels that way, but I doubt it).
But!
Perks of being an RM:

Everything relates to a gospel principle about which I can bear testimony and about which I can then offer more (PMG p. 185). (haha, good for me, but maybe not for those around me) I love the scriptures!
I can go to the temple!
There are a lot of missionaries going out that are dying for advice. Easy target of reminiscing!
I am unafraid of approaching strangers, asking for help, interviewing, or knocking random doors of apartments I am considering living in.
I know how to receive personal revelation and my prayers are still answered. Heavenly Father still loves me.
I have a lot of new friends on facebook. :)
I know how to make thrift store finds cute (I guess this only applies to RM sisters. wait. I take that back. Some elders had awesome ties).

At the end of the day, it is good to be back. I am learning how to progress again and I am figuring out my life. I have started to rediscover my purpose, identity, value, and place in the world. Take that, Satan.
Thank you for reading this scattered, boring-to-everyone-else blog post.
I'm back. :)

Sunday, March 31, 2013

Last Day

Hey folks, I'm back. :) But first, I thought I would post my last email from the field, sent March 6th:
 
Dearest Family,
What a crazy time this is. I can't believe this week has come! This email won't be long because we have a lot to do today, but I had to drop a line.
I just wanted to let you know that I love my mission so much! This experience has changed my life and I am so grateful that I served! I received two letters this week from those who I have been a part of their baptisms thanking me for coming out. I feel like God is really allowing me to end on a high. I love Sister Aldous so so much. We laugh every day. Our area is incredible and the Visitors' Center is a happy place to be.
Today I didn't want to take a full preparation day because...well it's my last day. So we scheduled an appointment at one with Joe, a Greek guy we teach in his used tire shop. Well, I committed him to be baptized April 13th. :) That was one of my goals was to set someone on date the last proselyting day of my mission and be excited about it. It happened. What a blessing! A miracle really! I'll tell you all about it in a couple of days.
Thank you so much for being so supporting and loving! I am so grateful for how exactly perfect you have been. You have shown love without being distracting. Thank you.
I know that this is God's work. He sends us where we can use our own gifts, experiences, and personalities to reach people only we can reach. He puts us in tricky situations to show us that He is mighty to save. We have to be pushed beyond what is possible sometimes for him to show us the miracles. We just have to trust Him enough to relax when we are thrown in the fiery furnace, so He can show us His power. It's amazing!
Joseph Smith really was a prophet. He saw God the Father and Jesus Christ and restored their church. The Book of Mormon prophets saw Christ's day and our day. That book is for us. Jesus Christ died for me. He suffered for me. He rose on the third day for me. Isn't that amazing? He knew these people I would meet. By name. And He sent me? What a blessing. God loves us and will never leave us alone.
Thanks again for everything. I love you all. I will see you soon.
I am glad families can be eternal. :)
 
Love,
Sister Atkin

Wednesday, March 6, 2013

The End. And the Beginning.

Well folks, this is it. April comes home this Friday. This means that she will now be back in charge of the posting on this blog. I hope that you have enjoyed her letters as much as we have. And I also hope that you have forgiven me for the times that I have fallen a little behind in posting them.

If you want to attend April's Homecoming address, here is the info:

Sunday March 10 at 1:00 p.m. in the College Ward chapel.

Adios!

-Amy

Wednesday, February 27, 2013

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas. Or Maybe Utah...


Dearest Family,

What a great week! I might possibly be the happiest I have been on my entire mission. This is just so much fun. I can't even tell you how much of a gem Sister Aldous is. We are constantly laughing, working hard, learning the gospel, teaching, eating, teasing, and everything else good. I just love her to pieces. She went to BYU, too, and I don't know if we would have been friends if we had met there, but we sure are friends here. She's great.
So we haven't been out of our apartment much this week. Wednesday of last week we didn't have a car, so we didn't get to go anywhere, and then we were snowed in all day Thursday. On Friday we were snowed in until we had to be at the Visitors' Center. It was a good time, though. Sister Aldous and I got a lot of studies in. We cleaned, made cookies, watched all of the District 1, studied, painted, organized, etc. We actually had a lot of fun.
On Saturday we had dinner with a slightly crazy member. She asked us to pray for her to know who to invite to dinner with us. We showed up and she had invited her elderly Jehovah's Witness friend. My first thought was, "Really??" But it turned out to be a good thing. We shared a nice, non-threatening message. Carol was very nice about it. Everyone wanted to get along. Then right as we were finishing, she asked, "So why don't you use His real name?" Oh, dear. That is just asking for us to fight. But we handled it very carefully and explained that God is our father and we call Him Heavenly Father to show the close relationship we have with Him and our love for Him. She took it well. Then she requested that when we prayed we pray to Jehovah. Sister Aldous looked to me as if to ask, "Are we allowed to do that?" There was a sense of intensity in the air as I took my time gathering words. I carefully explained that just as we respected her beliefs and her devotion to them, we were also devoted to our beliefs and couldn't pray that way. She took it very well. In the end, we both prayed and were very happy. In the end, we were able to really help her out. Sister Aldous is a nursing student and helped Carol know where to look to legally plead her cause to be able to live with her husband in an assisted living place. It was a miracle. I think that her heart was softened toward us. A healthy dose of respect will go a long way.
That night we also taught a less active part member family that we have been working with (the mom is semi-investigating) how to have Family Home Evening. Their girls are ages 3 and 4 and sometimes are crazy. We started with a prayer and a song, taught about who God is and that we were created in His image. Then we played Head Shoulders Knees and Toes as the activity and had a closing prayers. The girls loved it and so did their parents. The three year old was really moving her hips around so we changed it to Head, Shoulders, Hips, Knees and Toes. Don't worry, it was appropriate and hilarious.
That night we saw Kristine, the less active with the huge 2 year old. We were only able to stop by for a minute, but little Gabriel was so excited to see us. We took pictures with him wearing our name tags--future missionary! During the middle of the prayer he let go of our hands, went and picked up Sister Aldous' scripture bag, put it on his arm, and came back to hold our hands again. Adorable. :)
Yesterday was a snow day. We stayed inside, studied, and called people from our area book. It snowed so much!! The senior couples live next door to us, and one of them invited us over for lunch, and then sisters down the street invited us over for dinner, so we had a great day. In making phone calls, most people didn't answer, and we didn't have that many phone numbers anyway because our area is so new, but the three people we did get a hold of all set up appointments with us for this week! Wahoo! 100% success. Some elders and sisters put people on date over the phone yesterday. Miracles happen.
Today it continued to snow. We are on P-Day, so we made a snow man! that is, a snow sister! Her name is Sister Frost. Admire her beauty, her lipstick, and her pamphlets and pass along cards. We laughed so hard! Spatulas make great arms for snow men!
You may have heard the news, but this mission is getting split come July! No one is surprised because we have 283 missionaries at the moment with more coming next week and over the next few months. The Kansas Wichita mission is coming soon. It's weird because some missionaries who have served together will be suddenly in different missions. Strange. All of my mission will have been in the Missouri Independence Mission, still, though, so it is okay. There were actually 58 new missions created this week. Crazy! The work is being hastened!
I have a lot more funny stories to tell you, but it will have to wait (emailing was cut short by a meeting.) I love you all

Love,
Sister Atkin

Wednesday, February 20, 2013

I LOVE BEING A MISSIONARY!

Dearest Family,
 
I am just so happy I don't even know how to tell you about it.
First of all, Sister Aldous is awesome. She makes me laugh and she's good at talking and listening. We have a grand time together and life is never boring. So much has happened since last week, I hope to fit it all in.
First of all, last P-Day we lost our phone. It was our no car day, so we didn't have a phone or a car. We had set up one ride out to our area, but we couldn't set up any of the other rides we needed (including the one home) because we didn't have a phone. It was crazy. So when our member picked us up, we used her phone to make some calls. When we called our investigator to let her know we were running late she told us that a car wash had called her on our phone to tell her that they had it. It had fallen out when we were vacuuming the car. So that was embarrassing, but at least we knew where our phone was. We weren't able to recover it until the next day. It was quite the adventure.
But the thing is, the Lord works in mysterious ways. Because we didn't have our phone, we didn't have a team up set up for our lesson. So last minute we asked our ride if she would just stay and teach with us and give us another ride after the lesson (super demanding, and we would have never asked if we hadn't been put in such a situation). She at first wasn't excited about it, but agreed. It turned out perfect. She really hit it off with our investigator and now she wants to come with us to every lesson with her. It helped our investigator feel comfortable talking about quitting smoking. So perfect!
Then we were late to our dinner and they were mad until they found out that we didn't have a phone or a car, so they forgave us. Then the lady that gave us a ride home (back to Independence from the area, about 20 minutes) was a crazy old lady. I just thought she was a nice lady, but she grumbled the whole way and told us horror stories of bad things that happened to missionaries, in addition to the fact that she was a horrible driver. She drove so slow that we missed our ride home from the Visitors' Center (and we still didn't have a phone). But some sisters came back for us and it all worked out. I almost cried when we finally made it home, but it was all worth it. We did get our phone back the next day.
The other miracle about that is that the morning of the day we lost our phone, we took a picture of ourselves on a whim and made it the background of our phone. When the car wash found it, they saw our name tags in the picture and recognized that it was the missionaries, so they knew who to keep it for.
Then last Wednesday was interviews with the mission president. It was a great day. I learned a lot and was uplifted. I was upset because the elders made me bear my testimony because I am going home soon, and so I was a mess. Of course I cried. How do you capture a mission and a testimony in 2 minutes? You can't. Then I had to clean up real quick to be interviewed.
President Keyes didn't have very much to say. "This is our last interview, isn't it," he said. "Well, know that you have been an extraordinary missionary. Not just a good missionary, but an extraordinary one. You will leave a real hole in the mission."
And that was basically all we had to say. I joked about how I would ask to stay but I know he needs my spot for all of the new missionaries coming out. I cried for a bit, but I cleaned up and moved forward and kept working hard that day.
Another crazy thing happened, though. Ever since Sister Aldous came out, I felt like she had real potential, and could even possibly train after I leave--after just 5 weeks. We had conversations about it a few times. Only one missionary has trained after one transfer--6 weeks--ever in this mission, but I still felt like she could do it. I felt it pretty strongly, actually. It was all speculation, of course.
Well, Sister Aldous was the last person to be interviewed, and they had gone long so everyone else was gone. While she was being interviewed, President Keyes stepped out and asked me to join them. He told me that he was talking to Sister Aldous about an impression that he had received that she could train after 5 weeks. I think he was waiting for us to tell him he was crazy, but I wasn't surprised because I had received that same impression. He asked me about it, and we told him we had already talked about it.
So President Keyes has asked me to train Sister Aldous in just 5 weeks. He's given us permission to have 3 hours of companion study a day (similar to having language study on top of training), and he wants us to finish the 12 week training program in 5. It is still not for sure that it will happen because he hasn't finished praying about it, but he has asked us to prepare. We aren't supposed to tell anyone in the mission, so it is a secret. Don't tell anyone that could leak it to the other missionaries here.
Anyway, I love how the Lord is giving me one last project to really sprint to the finish. I am having so much fun teaching her. She is learning fast, and I am just pouring everything I know into her.
It is neat because I can feel that everything I have learned has prepared me for this day to teach her. She is just soaking it up. I know the Lord is mindful, and he is taking care of us. Things that I have learned in the scriptures have come out and been meaningful to her.
The other thing is that (this is another secret) they are making this a full proselyting area next transfer, so Sister Aldous won't be in the Visitors' Center anymore. Full proselyting is very different from Part time Proselyting, so I am trying to teach her how to plan really well. What a cool thing she will do!
To top that off, President Keyes is considering putting 9 or 10 sets of missionaries in the Visitors' Center instead of 8 (another secret). So he has asked me and Sister Sant, the other Sister Trainer, to pilot schedules for more sisters allowing them to have full proselyting days. Another project. I love projects!
It has been a crazy fun week.
I feel a little bad because I haven't been as focused on taking presentations at the Visitors' Center because I have so much else to do, but I think the Lord knows that I am having to prioritize.
Other cool story: the other night Sister Aldous and I only had about a half an hour and we decided to tract. We had faith, and we found two awesome women! I am way better at teaching women than men. It was a real miracle. We were able to hit our weekly goal!
Last night we visited a Part Member Family. The dad is totally active and is a temple worker, but his wife is not super open. We've been working on her for a while. Sometime when we come over, she'll just scoot on her wheel chair and hide. Last night, she stayed and laughed and talked and really enjoyed herself. It was the most open she's ever been! She even let us share a scripture about prayer and pray with her! Sister Aldous is allergic to cats, and their apartment reeks of cat and dog, so she is still fighting allergies today, but it was worth it.
Oh!! And yesterday, I got a letter from Selene!!! I hadn't heard from her since June, and it was a pretty sad letter and she moved right after she sent it, so I couldn't write and I had no idea how she was doing. I worried that she had gone inactive and that I had lost her. So I just had to shelf it, and leave her to God to take care of. I couldn't spend time fretting, so I just trusted it to God. Well, she's still active and she's doing great! Life isn't perfect, but she is handling it and is planning on going to the temple soon!! Next week is her year mark. If she goes soon, I might get to go with her through the temple before I go home. I cried when I got her letter. All of our prayers worked.
I am just so happy right now. I feel myself still growing and I am not trunky at all. I realize that I am going home soon and I accept that, but I have a lot of work left to do in between here and there. I love what I am doing and I am busy. This is the best work ever!
Well, That's all, folks!
I love you!
 
Love,
Sister Atkin

Sunday, February 17, 2013

Another Week In Heaven

Dearest Family,
 
Man, I just love being a missionary so much. I love what I am doing. The work is truly being hastened and it is amazing to be a part of it!
First of all, Sister Aldous is so amazing. I just love her! She is a great missionary and will do great things out here. She pushes me to be better and allows me to push her to be better. We work very well together.
We were able to reconnect with two of our investigators this week, so we now are working with three awesome part member families. They might be longer term projects, but we love them so much and I just know that all of them will be baptized at some point. They all want it, we just have a few hurdles to overcome beforehand.
First is Kylee. She really wants this. She works on Sundays, though, and knows that she wants to be rid of her bad habits of smoking and coffee before she joins. It is just going to be hard, and she doesn't feel ready to make that inevitable battle. I really enjoy teaching her.
Then there is Toni, who avoided us for a bit, but loved the Plan of Salvation when we were able to teach her. She just has to be willing to act when we aren't there. She wants to be baptized, but doesn't keep appointments, read, or come to church. We're working on that.
Then there is Cece. She wants it. Her husband tells us that she doesn't, but she stood up for herself and us when we were last over there. She has started coming to church activities by herself. (He's an active member. Long story) I love her so much! If she wasn't married to him, she could be baptized in a week. But the church doesn't encourage breaking up families, so we will figure this out...
Also, at the Visitors' Center this week we took a group of nonmembers through that were great. Well, kinda. So here's the story. One (not a member) of them had been through the center before with a member friend and loved it. So she brough back her whole family from Lincoln, Nebraska to show them the Visitors' Center and visit other sights in Kansas City. She told them excitedly about the history part and God's Plan for His Family. It was great! We started taking them through and she was eating it up. The problem was that her neice (10 years old?) was less excited. She constantly was complaining about being bored, asking questions, touching everything, and being flat out rude. She didn't listen or allow anyone else to listen. It was so frustrating. But we pushed through and invited them to have missionaries at the end. Before the excited one could say anything, her sister (the kid's mom) said no. So the excited one didn't say anything. rats!
So we took them upstairs to show them a few more things and while the annoying girl and her mom were in the bathroom, we talked to the excited one, and managed to give everyone in the group a copy of the Book of Mormon, and got her phone number so that we can call her next week, and hopefully convince her to allow missionaries to come over later. I love it when nonmembers love the church so much that they do missionary work! It was so great.
Wow. I don't even know how to tell you about everything and how I am feeling. I just love being here so much. I am just pretending I am never going home. When people ask me how long I have been out I say "Oh, Over a year." I always laughed at missionaries that did that, but now I totally understand. The other day someone asked, and Sister Aldous said, "Oh, she's been out 18 months." Aaah! Not true! She now knows not to say that. But really, she's great. Sometimes I feel selfish with how happy I am with her.
There are a lot of changes happening in our mission right now. That is probably true all around the world, but it is fun to see it here. Today President Keyes called me with a new puzzle to solve, and he said, "Sister Atkin, right now you have the most knowledge and experience in the mission on this. Pretty soon all of that knowledge and experience is going home. So I need you to figure this out for me." I don't even know if he realizes how much it means for me to to hear him say that. I actually had a rough day yesterday. Sometimes Satan just works on us hard. He was trying to convince me that I haven't made a difference in this ward because we haven't baptized (except Sandy, but she would have happened anyway). But Sister Aldous continues to build me up, and President Keyes never says too much, but he says enough to help me feel appreciated, loved, and important, while still staying humble. I love him. I have made a difference here. I started this area, and I have built the foundation so that the work can continue to grow here. I just need to remember that. And it isn't about me anyway.
I wish I had more to say, but just know that I love you. I know that this work is true! This is the Lord's Kingdom on earth, and He wants everyone to have a chance to be a part of it. I love this work!
I love you!
Have a great week!
 
Love,
Sister Atkin

Wednesday, February 6, 2013

What a Great Week!

 


Dearest Family,
 
What a great week. :)
Wow.
So first of all, I LOVE Sister Aldous. We get along great. We laugh really hard. I guess I haven't done that in a while, but she is hilarious. Several very funny things have happened.
Her first day she forgot to take her luggage off of the transfer bus, so it got to ride all around the mission out to Wichita and back, and she didn't get it back until 5:30 that evening. What an adventure. But that's alright. We were able to laugh about it.
Then that night we had a great dinner with members, and I planned for us to drop by on an investigator that is so prepared and excited to meet with us, but her son has RSV, and that has prevented her from really ever meeting with us. So we just showed up. We had only 20 minutes, but we were able to teach a great first lesson together. Sister Aldous is a natural teacher. I had been coaching her all day, and so at the end of the lesson, she invited Toni (that's the investigator's name) to be baptized! Toni interrupted her to say yes, that is what she had always wanted, and even set a date! It was one of the most perfect lessons I have taught on my entire mission. We laughed and smiled and said prayers of gratitude all the way home. pumped.
Since then not every day has been that successful, but we teach well together, and she is ready to work hard and be obedient. We get along so well. I feel like the Lord is giving me a gift for my last transfer (pretend I didn't mention that).
Before her mission she hurt her knee and had to have surgery, which post-poned her MTC date, so she ices her knee every night. Her first night she forgot to put her icepack in the freezer, so she got in the freezer to use vegetables just for 10 minutes. She asked if it was okay if she used the peas, and I said, "Yes, I don't like peas." Then we both fell asleep, so she forgot to put them back in the freezer. In the morning when she got up she looked down and saw a stain on her brand new sheets. "The peas leaked!" She gasped. She stumbled sleepily into the bathroom. When the light came on, I heard loudly from the bathroom, "THOSE WEREN'T PEAS!!" as she found a large stain on her pajamas.
She came back to the bedroom and we turned on the light to find a large purple stain on her bed. She had grabbed a half used, open bag of BERRIES. I laughed so hard I thought I was going to die. They had melted everywhere. So we had to have some of the other sisters help us out and wash her sheets that day. There is still a faint purple spot, but we got most of it out. Oh, man, just laughed so hard. So did she.
Nothing too eventful has happened for the rest of the week, but we have started teaching a lost sheep named Kristine (she's a member technically, but her records are not in the ward). She's 24 and has a 2 year old. She only went to church from when she was 10 until she was 12 (although she read the Book of Mormon from front to back during that time). She was put into foster care after that, and her life has been really hard. Her 2 year old is 3 feet tall and weighs 50 pounds (what a normal 5 year old weighs). He's huge and adorable. He is projected to be 6'6". He's covered in rolls of fat.
We came back the next day after teaching her, and she had read a significant amount of the Book of Mormon. She was smoking with her baby in the room, which makes me sad, but she put it out and let us in. I am just so excited for her to come back. She's basically at an investigator's level of understanding. She's excited about coming back. She told us that she remembers feeling the Holy Ghost ("It's like this light, bursting inside...I don't know how to describe it", she said sheepishly), but she said she hasn't felt it for a long time. I know she felt it while we were there.
Her 2 year old is a bit crazy, and doesn't sit still well, but as we left the second time we said we wanted to leave with a prayer. He reached out for our hands. We just went for it, so we all held hands as we prayed and he stood perfectly still in silence as we prayed. It was amazing. After the prayer he didn't want to let go. He just wanted us to stay holding his hands. I'll have to send you a picture of it. It was so cute!
This week I have been studying the Gospel of Jesus Christ in the scriptures (faith, repentance, baptism, the gift of the Holy Ghost, and enduring to the end). I have discovered that often when the gospel of Jesus Christ is taught, there is a reference made to the fact that the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost are one and united. I realized it is because they are united in their purpose of helping us make it back, and the gospel is the way. That is why we are baptized "in the name of Father, of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost". They work together to help us make it back, and Jesus Christ provided that way. It was a cool thing to read about.
The Visitors' Center is also doing great. It is pretty slow, so not much is happening there, but we have a lot of new sisters (four) and seven of the eight companionships were affected by the last transfer. We have a lot of fresh excitement, and it is really encouraging. I enjoy being there.
Wow! Life is so good!
I love you all!
 
Love,
Sister Atkin
 
P.S. Here is a picture of me with 3 of my 4 daughters. Sister Hodson wasn't there, and neither were Sister Crick and Sister Thompson, my grand daughters. My posterity is increasing! :)
 
Sister Lewis, me, Sister Aldous, and Sister Harding