tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-42760049606920906102024-02-18T21:10:20.357-07:00argyle in springsara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.comBlogger545125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-62520324408191941242017-09-05T15:18:00.000-06:002017-09-05T15:20:10.059-06:00the er<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">“I’m going to
go check myself into the ER” are never the words you expect to hear your
husband say hours after you’ve given birth. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I chuckled when I heard them until I realized he actually wasn’t
kidding – he really was going to leave me to go to the ER downstairs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">Hours earlier
we’d been joking with Paula, our angel labor and delivery nurse, that our
deductible had well been met this year between all our sickness and doctor
visits, Krys’s tonsillectomy and the birth of Vienna, so we were trying to
figure out what other procedures we could have done this year for cheap, hah! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">That sure
jinxed it because off Krys went to the ER while I sat helpless in my hospital
bed with a two-hours-old Vienna Maeve in my arms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">The week
leading up to Vienna’s birthday, Krys had a terrible stomach flu and missed
work Friday because of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We had
wanted Vienna to come early but I felt so relieved when she didn’t because of
how sick Krys was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Saturday rolled
around and he wasn’t feeling 100%, but he had enough strength and energy to
take me to the hospital in the evening and stay awake with me all night as we
worked on getting our little one here! #tendermercy</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">It was an
easy and relatively painless labor, thanks to modern medicine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We checked in the hospital at 8:30 and by
1:30 I was ready to start pushing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My doctor, who came in when he wasn’t on call (Hallelujah!), was dead
asleep in the other room and totally surprised that I was progressing so fast
with an epidural, no Pitocin, and with my first baby.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He told me that we would “rest and descend” for an hour and
start pushing at 2:30.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">At that
blessed 1:30 hour though, Krys got a bloody nose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He gets them a lot.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He always has.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So we didn’t
think much of it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But when 2:45
came around and it was time to start pushing, the bloody nose hadn’t gone
away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>All the usual tactics just
weren’t working to get it to stop.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>In between pushes he was lying on the couch shoving all kinds of tissues
and tampons up there to get it to stop, but to no avail.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My right leg was totally dead from the
epidural, so Paula and I laughed and laughed as we attempted to hold my legs up
alone every few pushes when the blood was gushing too much for Krys to even
stand up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The poor guy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In some ways it nicely took my mind off
the increasing intensity of pushing, but I felt awful that I couldn’t be more
help to him. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And he felt the same
about helping me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">Around 4:00
the bloody nose suddenly stopped.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Krys was able to be with me for the last 30 minutes of pushing and
witness the birth of our beautiful little girl.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We enjoyed an hour or so of bonding time as a family and
just as Krys was handing Vienna back to me, the blood faucet turned on
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It bled and bled and
bled. The first time I used my bed phone to page for help it was for Krys… “Um….
Can you come check my husband?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jody, our new nurse, laughed but when she came in and saw the blood bath
in the restroom, realized I was serious and suggested he go to the ER.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">Hours later
Krys returned with a “balloon tampon” up his nose – an ultra glamorous medical
device that is exactly what it sounds like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He was instructed to keep it in his nose for 3 days!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This was a 3<sup>rd</sup> attempt to
get the bleeding to stop after having him sniff cocaine (yes, cocaine) and
cauterize it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When neither of
those proved effective, balloon tampon it was.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We didn’t take too many good first family pictures because
of it… ;)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span></div>
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>576</o:Words>
<o:Characters>3285</o:Characters>
<o:Company>Utah State University</o:Company>
<o:Lines>27</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>6</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>4034</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>12.0</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>
<w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
</w:Compatibility>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276">
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:10.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Century Schoolbook";">The best part
of this story is how infamous Krys became among the staff at the women’s center
at Mountain Point Medical Center.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Even the nurse who came in the next day walked in and said, “So you’re
the one with the bloody nose…” I think he secretly enjoyed all the attention
and I secretly resented it… Hello… I’m the one that just birthed an 8 pound
human over here!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In all
seriousness though, the hand of the Lord is in our lives every single day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Next time we have a baby though, I’m
hoping Krys will leave the blood bath to me ;)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-3137478715779081292016-09-25T21:58:00.000-06:002016-09-25T21:58:28.391-06:00kindness counts! I <b>love </b>being a teacher. When people ask me what I do, I beam when I answer "I teach second grade!" I'm living my dream job everyday. It's hard and exhausting and emotionally draining, but if I went back and did it all again, I would never pick another career. <br />
<br />
But sadly the face of education is changing, and quickly. Children are changing. Parenting styles are changing. I've only been teaching my own class for 4 years, yet even in that short time I have seen the change in a real and scary way. My Facebook feed is flooded with stories of my colleagues leaving this profession I know and love for many different reasons - underpaid, over-worked, under-appreciated, or just plain worn out. The demands on teachers are insane and I find that most the time it's better not to think about them at all, just keep plowing through. <br />
<br />
These articles bring a certain sadness and almost resentment to the education world - like how could a thing that is so amazing and necessary and good be driving away so many amazing, qualified teachers. The recent passing of law that allows basically anyone to be hired as a teacher - teaching degree or not - kinda stung a little too. Add that to the myriad of budget issues, parents that never quite understand your intentions, increasing requirements from the state and nation, unacceptable student behaviors, dropping test scores, new programs to learn each year, never enough time in the day, conflicts with coworkers, on and on and on..... a day in the life can be a little overwhelming. <br />
<br />
My heart hurts the most when a parent misunderstands my intentions. How I send a well-meaning e-mail in the most positive and caring of tones only to have it shoved back in my face, or the administrator called in. How they don't believe what I say or become defensive rather than taking a side on my team for a positive solution. How I can never seem to do enough to please them or take care of their child. Or how "you just don't understand". Etc. Etc. <br />
<br />
But this week I was reminded of a powerful lesson. <br />
<br />
At the beginning of the school year, I always send out a positive e-mail to each parent individually simply to tell them how much I enjoy having their child in my class and a few strengths I've noticed in the short time I've known their child. I love writing these e-mails because I know every parents wants to hear the amazing things their child is doing at school and these kinds of e-mails are rare. It also gives me an opportunity to reflect on each of my new kiddies and appreciate them for who they are and what they add to my new classroom. <br />
<br />
Every time without fail, when I sent one of these e-mails, I get back the most glowing, appreciative, kind note in return. I've been moved to tears a few times just this past week in reading some of the responses parents send me. <br />
<br />
It got me thinking about all the times I complain to Krys about the terrible e-mails I sometimes get back from parents. But then I thought how can I expect to receive warm and glowing e-mails from parents when all the e-mail did was report bad behavior, no matter how pleasantly and tactfully I worded it? <br />
<br />
Kindness never goes out of style, my friends. I dare say the world needs a lot more of it, too. Believe in love <3 nbsp="" p=""><br />
<br />
<br /></3>sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-72132522948501755962016-02-03T17:32:00.001-07:002016-02-03T17:32:34.833-07:00joanie daily: a woman of influencenestled inside the old walls of skyline high school, you'll find a room. a room that looks like any other high school room. but in this room, lives are changed. in this room, some of the most important lessons of a high school career are taught. in this room, i learned to be a leader. <br />
<br />
i still remember the day well when i sat across from mrs. joanie daily for my community of caring board interview. i only applied to be on the board because my brother parker had done it and raved about his experience. i was convinced joanie accepted my application as a junior only because i was related to parker. but now i understand that she accepted my application because she saw greatness in me. a greatness i soon came to believe in myself. <br />
<br />
i served that year as a care team director, working with elementary schools across the salt lake valley to implement service teams. at the end of the year we provided an opportunity for teachers to nominate students to receive the head, heart, hands award. <br />
<br />
joanie taught me how to be a leader that year. not always in the things she said, but in the way she treated me and the example she taught. she gave just enough guidelines that i was confident in what i was doing, then stepped back and let me do my thing. she was there when i made terrible mistakes and she was there when the triumphs were great. <br />
<br />
senior year came and i applied to be the service scholar director. again, joanie saw the greatness in me and accepted my application. she handed me the service scholar packet, a list of those wanting to get the award, and said "good luck!" <br />
<br />
again, i had the chance to develop as a leader. this year i needed her more, as the service scholar program seemed more comprehensive and all-inclusive. among my millions of questions and concerns, joanie stayed a constant beacon of hope and light, a happy smile among the faces of frustrated teens i was trying to lead on their way to the victory of the service scholar award. she would always ask me how i wanted to solve the problem, give her sage advice then say, "you'll figure it out." <br />
<br />
one day, i decided to slough community of caring because i didn't want to visit one of the service sites i was assigned to. the whole time i was at the park and at wendy's (living the dream, right?) during that class, i just felt awful. and not because i was missing class, but because i felt like i was letting mrs. daily down. we got back to school and it only took 5 minutes before i marched into her classroom to apologize. as any good mother would, she expressed her disappointment, then courageously told me all the qualities she admired about me, and that she knew i was a good girl. i walked away feeling so amazing about myself. <br />
<br />
shortly after that, in fact, joanie pulled me aside and asked me to represent all the high schools in utah at a utah board of educator's conference. my task was to speak about how service had influenced my high school experience - in an attempt to rally for the right for arts to stay in schools. i gladly and humbly accepted the challenge, and worked with joanie to perfect a speech to present to educators from all over the state of utah. <br />
<br />
the day of the speech came and my mom and i drove to the little america hotel for the big debut. first, an elementary school student got up and talked about how much he loved art. then, a junior high group came in and played music for us while the trembling band president spoke about the power of music. then it was my turn. i proudly stood and spoke about service and how it had changed my life for the better in high school, and the amazing teacher we had that gave us many wonderful opportunities to reach outside the self-centered teen ego and truly love. when rulon gardner, the keynote speaker, got up, he too praised good teachers all over the world inspiring kids to be good citizens. <br />
<br />
adorning those old walls of joanie's classroom were quotes from world leaders that inspired her. each of her lessons were tailored to character building and helping us see others in a light of hope and success. the day we pulled off the service scholar banquet, joanie told me it was the best one she'd ever seen. i'm sure she said that to her service scholar director every year, but to me, it was the million dollar words i needed to hear. i wanted more than anything to be a champion in her eyes. <br />
<br />
and that wasn't hard to do, because everyone is a champion in her eyes. <br />
<br />
- - -<br />
<br />
attending joanie daily's funeral last weekend helped me get an even better glimpse into the kind of woman she is. i was so inspired by the words of her dear "sue" friends, her darling granddaughter maggie, her three daughters-in-law, and of course her four strong boys. <br />
<br />
there was a consistency in the things said about joanie that day. i felt completely inspired to be a better person after hearing things said and feeling the spirit of our dear friend who has passed on to a new adventure. <br />
<br />
some things that stood out to me in the service:<br />
- "love your neighbor and do something about it!" <br />
- "accomplish, love, do, give!" <br />
- when we serve, we see the good in people. SERVE! <br />
- the best things we can give our children are roots and wings<br />
- "joanie believed in everybody"<br />
- "maybe that's why our tennis team was the biggest in the state, because joanie didn't have the heart to cut any of the girls" <br />
<br />
funerals have an interesting way of putting life back into perspective. when all is said and done in this life, we don't spend time talking about worldly accomplishments or the accolades of men more than perhaps a brief mention. we more often than not honor and praise characteristics - christlike characteristics that are molded, grown, then shared over a lifetime.<br />
<br />
the last time i saw joanie daily was last may when she came to canyon rim academy, where i was teaching, for the head heart hands assembly. it was a flash of memory, as i thought of myself up in front of elementary schools as that care team director so many years before - and in joanie's eyes, i saw the same pride for those teens as i saw when she looked at me up in front of the kids.<br />
<br />
i went up to say hello afterwards, and you would've thought we were best friends being reunited after 2 decades. joanie asked all about my teaching and my life and how my family was. she told me how excited she was to have my little sister in her class the following year, then thanked me for going into one of the most influential professions in the world. she told me my students were the luckiest students to have me, and i believed her. i always have. <br />
<br />
in the past week since joanie's funeral, i've found myself thinking about her a lot. i passed a lady at walmart who needed help getting into her car and thought to myself, "if joanie were here, she would totally help that lady." and that's pretty cool. <br />
<br />
i've been blessed to learn from many amazing teachers in my life. but some have had a more profound influence than others. joanie is one of those teachers to me - a "favorite" that has taught me so much, both in her living, and in her passing. <br />
<br />
i know she's not resting on the other side, but that her service-oriented spirit continues to bless and inspire the many people she's coming in contact with everyday. i'm grateful to have been one of those people she's touched, and will forever love and remember her influence. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPw1Stm3KhxcLZ8FqLpBj-AYL4EVrmUgHQxI8tIaDyWXSzkd9rxPapcy-rduDRfYJqdEFQWORNHlHetyW6tkCE15uLh6sldUAwk888E77VyGfzCHM6EJVf-bhRmQN9bCyxLfuekqYZNNo/s1600/Screen+Shot+2016-02-03+at+5.28.37+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="305" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPw1Stm3KhxcLZ8FqLpBj-AYL4EVrmUgHQxI8tIaDyWXSzkd9rxPapcy-rduDRfYJqdEFQWORNHlHetyW6tkCE15uLh6sldUAwk888E77VyGfzCHM6EJVf-bhRmQN9bCyxLfuekqYZNNo/s400/Screen+Shot+2016-02-03+at+5.28.37+PM.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-1213376129139449012015-07-17T15:43:00.001-06:002015-07-17T15:44:23.448-06:00plastic plants. <div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: 0.5in;">It was one of those afternoons
we would lay in the hall on that ocean blue carpet for hours.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: 0.5in;">The swamp cooler just wasn’t cool
enough.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: 0.5in;">After too many games of
Uno, we decided to brave the elements and take a trip to the local convenience
store.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: 0.5in;">Our hopes rested in being
able to devour our ice cream cones before the sun stole them.</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Silently traipsing up a hill we
took a miserable break that wasn’t much of a break at all but rather a
realization of how much water we were losing by the second. I was surprised to
look to my right and see a middle-aged woman gardening, believing at once she
was a little too enthusiastically dedicated to the state of her plants. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No one in their right mind should be
gardening in this heat,” I muttered to myself.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But alas, she
was there in her gardening knee pads and sun hat, happily pouring drop after
drop of water onto each plant from her lime green watering can.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A can like I’d remembered from reading
Peter Rabbit.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The kind he hid
behind when he was trying to escape from Mr. McGregor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">From where we were standing, the garden was flawless: rich
brown dirt, zero weeds, perfectly green plants with beautifully bloomed flowers
in every color imaginable, all in ideally straight lines.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Thoughts of how much work she must
spend flooded my mind, followed shortly after with thoughts about how much I
hated weeding.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Then, at the end of one row of
petunias something grabbed my attention.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A large plant lay uprooted and turned on its side, but still in its
flawless form.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It was supported
with the tip of a stiff leaf.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">The
plant did not touch the ground anywhere but this tip and the very bottom of the
root.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Odd.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">We casually inched closer to take a
better look.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Plastic plant</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was a plastic plant.</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">I muffled my laughter so the gardener extraordinaire wouldn’t hear. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My eyes darted down each row. </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">It couldn’t be, no, but it is!</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">A whole garden of plastic plants!</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">My friend didn’t even notice what was
going on, too caught up in the heat of the day to care about an old lady’s
garden.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">So I smile to myself,
chuckle a little bit, and continue my way to the convenience store.</span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Don’t worry, lady, your secret
is safe with me. . . </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<o:DocumentProperties>
<o:Template>Normal.dotm</o:Template>
<o:Revision>0</o:Revision>
<o:TotalTime>0</o:TotalTime>
<o:Pages>1</o:Pages>
<o:Words>318</o:Words>
<o:Characters>1815</o:Characters>
<o:Company>Utah State University</o:Company>
<o:Lines>15</o:Lines>
<o:Paragraphs>3</o:Paragraphs>
<o:CharactersWithSpaces>2228</o:CharactersWithSpaces>
<o:Version>12.0</o:Version>
</o:DocumentProperties>
<o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
<o:AllowPNG/>
</o:OfficeDocumentSettings>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:WordDocument>
<w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom>
<w:TrackMoves>false</w:TrackMoves>
<w:TrackFormatting/>
<w:PunctuationKerning/>
<w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridHorizontalSpacing>
<w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>18 pt</w:DrawingGridVerticalSpacing>
<w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayHorizontalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>0</w:DisplayVerticalDrawingGridEvery>
<w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/>
<w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>
<w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent>
<w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>
<w:Compatibility>
<w:BreakWrappedTables/>
<w:DontGrowAutofit/>
<w:DontAutofitConstrainedTables/>
<w:DontVertAlignInTxbx/>
</w:Compatibility>
</w:WordDocument>
</xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
<w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="276">
</w:LatentStyles>
</xml><![endif]-->
<!--[if gte mso 10]>
<style>
/* Style Definitions */
table.MsoNormalTable
{mso-style-name:"Table Normal";
mso-tstyle-rowband-size:0;
mso-tstyle-colband-size:0;
mso-style-noshow:yes;
mso-style-parent:"";
mso-padding-alt:0in 5.4pt 0in 5.4pt;
mso-para-margin:0in;
mso-para-margin-bottom:.0001pt;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-fareast;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}
</style>
<![endif]-->
<!--StartFragment-->
<!--EndFragment--><br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-1157280656460185782015-05-03T16:58:00.002-06:002015-05-03T16:58:41.010-06:00to the mother of the screaming child at the scholastic book fair... to the mother of the screaming child at the scholastic book fair,<br />
<br />
i see you in the library of the elementary school i teach at. and... your 4-year-old child is screaming at you. he is blood-curdling screaming right in your face. that's why i'm looking at you. that's why everyone is looking at you. he's <b>so</b> mad that you won't buy him that brand new $39.99 lego star wars book with the included lego guys that he "<b>need need neeeeeeds"</b> to have. he's putting up a really big scene. i heard him all the way down the hall. he's yelling and punching your legs as he writhes in emotional pain on the floor. he's crying and crying, screaming how mean you are and how rude that you won't give him what he wants. his world is caving in. he just told you you're the worst mom ever. more people are looking at you now. the lady at the register is frozen, not sure how to react. everyone is watching. just waiting and wondering how you're going to handle him. he's making a scene, and that scene is getting louder and more uncomfortable to watch. <br />
<br />
i see a tear welling up in your eye. but i also see the face of courage and strength you're forcing to stick on your face. you are calm and collected, seemingly unfazed by his tantrum. you continue your business at the register, then place the books in your bag, quietly take your daughter by the hand, scoop up the screaming toddler, and walk out of the library. he continues to squirm and punch you. he just clawed your face, leaving a large scratch down your cheek. yet you calmly walk on. <br />
<br />
as you walk to your car (and i can't help but follow and watch in awe at your magical parenting techniques), i hear him scream, "YOU PROMISED I COULD GET A BOOK TODAY!" in between sobs and trying helplessly to catch his breath. to which you calmly reply, "i gave you $5 to spend on a book today. you picked a book that was more than $5. then you chose to spend your time in the book fair crying and screaming instead of looking for another book that was $5. i'm sorry you made that choice, that must be very sad for you to leave the book fair with no book today." <br />
<br />
he of course didn't like this reply. in fact, he's screaming louder now. he's squirming so much that he practically falls from your arms. you set him calmly on the ground and firmly, but lovingly grab his wrist so he doesn't run away. in your calmest, most patient motherly tone, you say, "(name), i love you. i love you so much. i can see that you're sad right now and i feel sad that you are so sad. let's get in the car and find your special blankie, that always makes you feel better." he replies, "but, but, but... you didn't get me my book..." you again repeat what you said earlier that you were sad he made the choice to waste his time crying instead of finding another book that was $5. then, without another word, you give him a big hug (which he resists), scoop him up (only to be again scratched in the face), and put him into his carseat. you close his door and lean up against the car for a brief moment. you breath out a sigh of frustration before you climb in the car and drive away. <br />
<br />
you didn't give in today. <i>you never gave in. </i><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and for that, i want to say </span><i><b><span style="font-size: large;">thank you.</span> </b></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
thank you for being a mother that sets boundaries for your child. thank you for being a mother that doesn't give in to social embarrassment to appease the wants of your crying 4-year-old. thank you for choosing to not give him everything he wants. thank you for having the maturity to scoop him up in your arms as he flails and screams, and calmly explain to him the reasons why you wouldn't be purchasing the lego book for him today. thank you for having the maturity to talk to your child like an adult and allow him to see the consequences for his actions. thank you for taking the time to explain to him that this wasn't your problem; it was a mess he created for himself based on a choice he made. thank you for setting an example to all the other mothers there that being a firm parent that sticks to her word is much more important than giving in to sooth the screams. thank you for being a mother that your children can rely on because you are consistent and firm. thank you for being a mother that your children feel safe with, because they know their boundaries and expectations. thank you for loving your children enough to step away from being their friend, and assume the role of being their parent. <br />
as a teacher, i experience everyday a wide variety of parents and see the full spectrum of parenting styles and approaches. and as a teacher, i can see the dire need the world has for more mothers like you. the scholastic book fair was 3 months ago, and i'm still thinking about you and the way you handled your child's tantrum that day. you left an impression in my mind, and the minds of everyone that watched you like i did in february. <br />
<br />
thank you for being the kind of mother that raises respectful, humble children. your influence is far greater than you will <i>ever</i> realize. <br />
<br />
sincerely,<br />
a grateful first grade teacher<br />
<br />sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-55896923206031202842015-03-22T12:08:00.001-06:002015-03-22T12:08:18.872-06:00here is hopeMy heart is full this morning as I reflect on the true beauty of the gospel: our opportunity to be healed. <div><br></div><div>It's been a unique weekend full of gratitude and hope. It began on Friday night as I attended the Lamb of God production. It continued as I attended the temple last night with the man I love most. And today's church meeting has been full of testimony and lovely stories of the effects of the atonement in profound and real ways. I love weekends like this: weekends where my heart could explode with the peace, gratitude, love, and adoration I feel. <br><div><br></div><div>I'm reading in 3 Nephi 9 this morning and it's caused me to think about the healing power that the Savior offers us. In verse 13, Christ speaks about the conditions of being healed: RETURN to the Savior, REPENT of sins, and BE CONVERTED. </div><div><br></div><div>In this verse, Christ pleads, "Will ye not (do those things) <i>that I may heal you?"</i> <b>He is waiting. </b></div><div><b><br></b></div><div>Receiving Christ into our lives is an active pursuit. To come means to move toward or near. I show my willingness to come unto Christ by my small, daily actions. Through consistent, correct choices, as Elder Richard G Scott teaches. </div><div><br></div><div>In verse 21, Christ tells us His purpose for being in this world: "I have come unto the world to bring redemption unto the world, to save the world from sin." </div><div><br></div><div>To me, to be saved means to be healed. When we seek relief, we seek healing from something--> a physical ailment, an emotional pain, a weakness, an answer to a question. I'm convinced all the commandments are really exactly the same.. Just different ways to say the same thing.. "<b>Come unto Christ!" </b>He came to save us from sin. To save us from heartache. To save us from hurt. To save us from evil and wickedness. From the natural man. From ourselves. </div><div><br></div><div>"If ye will come unto me, ye shall have eternal life. Behold, mine arm of mercy is extended towards you, and whosoever will come, him will I receive, and blessed are those who come unto me." (Vs. 14)</div><div><br></div><div>Did you catch that promise? <i>"Whosoever will come, him will I receive." </i>He says it again in verse 22: "Whoso repent with and cometh unto me as a little child, him will I receive... For such I have laid down my life and taken it up again." He invites everyone. And will accept anyone who makes the effort. </div><div><br></div><div>He wraps it up by saying, "Therefore, repent, and come unto me, and be saved." Simple as that. </div><div><br></div><div>Choose to be saved. Choose to make the Savior an integral part of your life. <b><i>Choose to be healed.</i></b></div><div><b><i><br></i></b></div><div>There are countless examples in the scriptures where the Savior's call to come unto Him has been heeded and people have experienced the joy and healing He promised. </div><div><br></div><div>In chapter 10 of 3 Nephi, the Savior's voice comes to the people. The earth is mourning on the death of Christ, then goes still. Christ's voice comes to remind them that He has gathered them, that He's nourished them. As the days went on and the darkness wore off, the earth ceased to tremble, "the tumultuous noises did pass away". Verse 10: "Their mourning was turned into joy, and their Lamentations into the praise and thanksgiving unto the Lord Jesus Christ, their Redeemer." </div><div><br></div><div>I myself have experienced the process of mourning turning to joy, lamentations turned to praise. It is real, it is beautiful, and it is necessary for our journey in this life to experience these things. The principles of the gospel have the unique characteristic of applying to everyone as a whole, yet being so specific and unique to each of us. I love this. I love that I have a Father in Heaven that loves me enough to give me relief and healing through the process of coming unto Him in the very individual way that makes sense to me. </div><div><br></div><div>My favorite song in The Lamb of God is called "Here is Hope". <i>"Hope did not die here, but here was given. Here is hope!"</i> </div><div><br></div><div>Particularly at this time of the year, when we celebrate the resurrection of the Savior, I feel an extreme amount of gratitude for the hope that comes because of the resurrection of my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. He is real. He is love. His love is eternal. His healing is a gift to us. We can and will be saved because of Him, through Him. </div><div><br></div><div><i>He is hope. </i></div><div><i><br></i></div><div><i><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_g31ErW1tvCboXwu1tpTnZWgR98cc1ExrvxK1SUm4T_kdLoqB4XmtrsmScHgdsKMDUSPgSGOFBoHFoozDvnZiPzueJYb7hLOlt2Q9Sp601WfCwXJI8NBO8ghyphenhyphen_nchQHeOGDJ8Xj-nSWo/s640/blogger-image-1380620271.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_g31ErW1tvCboXwu1tpTnZWgR98cc1ExrvxK1SUm4T_kdLoqB4XmtrsmScHgdsKMDUSPgSGOFBoHFoozDvnZiPzueJYb7hLOlt2Q9Sp601WfCwXJI8NBO8ghyphenhyphen_nchQHeOGDJ8Xj-nSWo/s640/blogger-image-1380620271.jpg"></a></div><br></i></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div></div>sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-694470986538495172015-02-10T17:53:00.001-07:002015-02-10T17:53:27.099-07:00love is...<div><br></div>with valentines day coming up in a few days, i thought I would illicit the help of my 6-year-old friends in defining love. here's what they say... <div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii203IKWpqBsohkN0cP2zFdVDbRP8iGN8HvLMLTWIw0tfD9619HZ4IueX-gOD8h1FJz6k27BfB8J0z3S4GYo-HGrLG0Gfou43SPIE_72B9JRWt9wh0cefOElCfAOXhJcNMSbaFL8mNsRM/s640/blogger-image--1104900599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii203IKWpqBsohkN0cP2zFdVDbRP8iGN8HvLMLTWIw0tfD9619HZ4IueX-gOD8h1FJz6k27BfB8J0z3S4GYo-HGrLG0Gfou43SPIE_72B9JRWt9wh0cefOElCfAOXhJcNMSbaFL8mNsRM/s640/blogger-image--1104900599.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Q0SauRTLauVNNdUjUIKzKqsCIvnYhbm6FDBufuXXvIWGz-DJ9OlILGhHx19ARRJgfmQuFYlE-pVAimkBrXZHYxqYnzaxs1rtJRoawaGS_6D7P8_y3R3CWThW6i-gFWUHAFfVjFd-cpg/s640/blogger-image--454628168.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Q0SauRTLauVNNdUjUIKzKqsCIvnYhbm6FDBufuXXvIWGz-DJ9OlILGhHx19ARRJgfmQuFYlE-pVAimkBrXZHYxqYnzaxs1rtJRoawaGS_6D7P8_y3R3CWThW6i-gFWUHAFfVjFd-cpg/s640/blogger-image--454628168.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzFn0Q6VDN1SvgLpXqQ1E-IVj2pZNU5vkNxpxZx_i586tpnqFsu1Okn51BFm0h2A9t-mDwMBfcq-09gcphtLL0XCIM4GEAwGxhPPU4UjLWmG3zFEzWSrsv_m-0SL7J5swn-daBCrmMTU/s640/blogger-image-840272493.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKzFn0Q6VDN1SvgLpXqQ1E-IVj2pZNU5vkNxpxZx_i586tpnqFsu1Okn51BFm0h2A9t-mDwMBfcq-09gcphtLL0XCIM4GEAwGxhPPU4UjLWmG3zFEzWSrsv_m-0SL7J5swn-daBCrmMTU/s640/blogger-image-840272493.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Dq2OoJy4ntOTHG6_8OuKGZolRMBuQoe4INkC_swIw5yJp2jErM03HwXsqxBu9PAUfdooo494VLpLY8z9kMxLxZHREJmGKGoTCxJGXqGfXElY6QKbQ6kco-bFyHHQvIDlDoVVrK5agrs/s640/blogger-image-1346208029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4Dq2OoJy4ntOTHG6_8OuKGZolRMBuQoe4INkC_swIw5yJp2jErM03HwXsqxBu9PAUfdooo494VLpLY8z9kMxLxZHREJmGKGoTCxJGXqGfXElY6QKbQ6kco-bFyHHQvIDlDoVVrK5agrs/s640/blogger-image-1346208029.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUFLuhy-lpCs4v_T_55HWMdzVSYA_pjo_L3tyZpfuP0o3NBta-Y0On80vR4fXX-OUZJ8vK_hXstv9L68DStfee4AXQlV0fMwPm_BYMMxKqOq1cNqy62doAfU39qjFQKiHpsaEdZRqYtWY/s640/blogger-image--1307014129.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUFLuhy-lpCs4v_T_55HWMdzVSYA_pjo_L3tyZpfuP0o3NBta-Y0On80vR4fXX-OUZJ8vK_hXstv9L68DStfee4AXQlV0fMwPm_BYMMxKqOq1cNqy62doAfU39qjFQKiHpsaEdZRqYtWY/s640/blogger-image--1307014129.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii203IKWpqBsohkN0cP2zFdVDbRP8iGN8HvLMLTWIw0tfD9619HZ4IueX-gOD8h1FJz6k27BfB8J0z3S4GYo-HGrLG0Gfou43SPIE_72B9JRWt9wh0cefOElCfAOXhJcNMSbaFL8mNsRM/s640/blogger-image--1104900599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_pZMQkFHYtj7vlws1QW4Hcyw8ogx6EVh7goO9DsfjlVxCe-G1w7VQoDMtwsQCzHysqH3j9eQAfCOcMBeVHF9goRmbzvpcPZaJs43-w-DIu6BaFEuh9UFT0pFxvmad9QZzHMu64W1uIg/s640/blogger-image--1165301014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgB_pZMQkFHYtj7vlws1QW4Hcyw8ogx6EVh7goO9DsfjlVxCe-G1w7VQoDMtwsQCzHysqH3j9eQAfCOcMBeVHF9goRmbzvpcPZaJs43-w-DIu6BaFEuh9UFT0pFxvmad9QZzHMu64W1uIg/s640/blogger-image--1165301014.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii203IKWpqBsohkN0cP2zFdVDbRP8iGN8HvLMLTWIw0tfD9619HZ4IueX-gOD8h1FJz6k27BfB8J0z3S4GYo-HGrLG0Gfou43SPIE_72B9JRWt9wh0cefOElCfAOXhJcNMSbaFL8mNsRM/s640/blogger-image--1104900599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpcUrkzPJ0Md-L_ae3f-ofxKnFXvfHu9rfOjfREv8rYaMC9fQ3PZcoMGJvpLMGJ5J2-FgVyEgk8bMjchMe_lP7gJyV9fByUOftSJT_1MiiU-md6irm9qg2YVJ9NrRSV8fjxt-VvZJ094/s640/blogger-image--1061749652.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJpcUrkzPJ0Md-L_ae3f-ofxKnFXvfHu9rfOjfREv8rYaMC9fQ3PZcoMGJvpLMGJ5J2-FgVyEgk8bMjchMe_lP7gJyV9fByUOftSJT_1MiiU-md6irm9qg2YVJ9NrRSV8fjxt-VvZJ094/s640/blogger-image--1061749652.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii203IKWpqBsohkN0cP2zFdVDbRP8iGN8HvLMLTWIw0tfD9619HZ4IueX-gOD8h1FJz6k27BfB8J0z3S4GYo-HGrLG0Gfou43SPIE_72B9JRWt9wh0cefOElCfAOXhJcNMSbaFL8mNsRM/s640/blogger-image--1104900599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjffFs1OTT3gY2TxpNdCaufO1VqhMhnv0dDzTu5UHbWTFNcKdkkhp7gJZ635DKAyfT7AY82G8XhmHezUeJQBUsScOd3ynHusEBJTg8QKwwAJMtHqVtEzFqRY-oxDHV-eK03xVMi2inyY/s640/blogger-image--1048895763.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJjffFs1OTT3gY2TxpNdCaufO1VqhMhnv0dDzTu5UHbWTFNcKdkkhp7gJZ635DKAyfT7AY82G8XhmHezUeJQBUsScOd3ynHusEBJTg8QKwwAJMtHqVtEzFqRY-oxDHV-eK03xVMi2inyY/s640/blogger-image--1048895763.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoxbPWlFQ4bKt1rjzrkw_ZXXWHqJ-CJt20D7foLRQ9eRS7bbpDLu7UGjQKSg2iAqyfLq7a4DQd9P_-JD-1waQhDYCbehi34Glgnfftz1cd-c-a9WqwX8wNwaamc39oMVRwFmSrGuZUdRg/s640/blogger-image--850968131.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoxbPWlFQ4bKt1rjzrkw_ZXXWHqJ-CJt20D7foLRQ9eRS7bbpDLu7UGjQKSg2iAqyfLq7a4DQd9P_-JD-1waQhDYCbehi34Glgnfftz1cd-c-a9WqwX8wNwaamc39oMVRwFmSrGuZUdRg/s640/blogger-image--850968131.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoxxSAr_I14drXMwy60269p9kLSAbv2oGmYO1_41FUbI1lzdLeL1MYUiBu0d3YE6lFi6qbNpsa__SDyGwgI3BkYzGQQS1bjyxx4Jw61RhNfEZrimfJBskKkw2YfcQJT0vHb5Ygr7mg4mk/s640/blogger-image-999403733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoxxSAr_I14drXMwy60269p9kLSAbv2oGmYO1_41FUbI1lzdLeL1MYUiBu0d3YE6lFi6qbNpsa__SDyGwgI3BkYzGQQS1bjyxx4Jw61RhNfEZrimfJBskKkw2YfcQJT0vHb5Ygr7mg4mk/s640/blogger-image-999403733.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINlgwazVWoyvYjXpse40gowV7jBIYIRggaGizS9T83YqpF1C3U2NKCJPH9NtvlojmfX6251Q6KUdBnCqfrA3p5Zhxdzr5Dk-sCN2MELyfEoYbWm8VvaLTXejEbnqTy7icUqBO-P_6B38/s640/blogger-image--1329337093.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINlgwazVWoyvYjXpse40gowV7jBIYIRggaGizS9T83YqpF1C3U2NKCJPH9NtvlojmfX6251Q6KUdBnCqfrA3p5Zhxdzr5Dk-sCN2MELyfEoYbWm8VvaLTXejEbnqTy7icUqBO-P_6B38/s640/blogger-image--1329337093.jpg"></a></div></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYqw82QxdsGR4DelVNAHpyAfKVTmcd5YIHh8litk2movUqO3aOIPDUKFYM_bjpf-fVDdWjxBemGmdLx98xoMCYBhU6V-DjvLQeybHsNDrzV7NH27p52kNsnOYRWsNh9-b4IuIfOLTAKv4/s640/blogger-image--1633016837.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYqw82QxdsGR4DelVNAHpyAfKVTmcd5YIHh8litk2movUqO3aOIPDUKFYM_bjpf-fVDdWjxBemGmdLx98xoMCYBhU6V-DjvLQeybHsNDrzV7NH27p52kNsnOYRWsNh9-b4IuIfOLTAKv4/s640/blogger-image--1633016837.jpg"></a></div><br><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii203IKWpqBsohkN0cP2zFdVDbRP8iGN8HvLMLTWIw0tfD9619HZ4IueX-gOD8h1FJz6k27BfB8J0z3S4GYo-HGrLG0Gfou43SPIE_72B9JRWt9wh0cefOElCfAOXhJcNMSbaFL8mNsRM/s640/blogger-image--1104900599.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio4ZAtFJlfl9CygNu5jeQm1SxBCCvVEdsM_twmBny2wsTcZJRiL35LorKtQ8yttvxXStqrtFWRQrCV1yNG1kn7GHhsXI-hwuc3molQ1xTjwK4kEkJGCTopHl9_C2pVGxMOEZqgWo-FlpY/s640/blogger-image-573668179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio4ZAtFJlfl9CygNu5jeQm1SxBCCvVEdsM_twmBny2wsTcZJRiL35LorKtQ8yttvxXStqrtFWRQrCV1yNG1kn7GHhsXI-hwuc3molQ1xTjwK4kEkJGCTopHl9_C2pVGxMOEZqgWo-FlpY/s640/blogger-image-573668179.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMTbRbiIjO1j6D1xZKmoxYZUEm0gcycF77RqbUfryc_oNGlgPRVt71gB-SLrOwIvNvz39crYONo-QQYzPH62-__R5IBpQ0A3zVM_VX92YiiIEVciQ2F3cJyrfaVUVNGH6qi93qn75NoLM/s640/blogger-image-745841447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMTbRbiIjO1j6D1xZKmoxYZUEm0gcycF77RqbUfryc_oNGlgPRVt71gB-SLrOwIvNvz39crYONo-QQYzPH62-__R5IBpQ0A3zVM_VX92YiiIEVciQ2F3cJyrfaVUVNGH6qi93qn75NoLM/s640/blogger-image-745841447.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGUI3OKL7m2RHE9p813jO8g828eCoz-Juyfll8Chpf2lgOZHS_yoSKWnsNAJhsvAsCbJRGrtfHSzVCGRD2V1ZSlRAkiEwT4gPd2NXtBLNNPYB_jo1fXHdwov8nWcbdpx96ECeat36sEQ/s640/blogger-image-854443017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIGUI3OKL7m2RHE9p813jO8g828eCoz-Juyfll8Chpf2lgOZHS_yoSKWnsNAJhsvAsCbJRGrtfHSzVCGRD2V1ZSlRAkiEwT4gPd2NXtBLNNPYB_jo1fXHdwov8nWcbdpx96ECeat36sEQ/s640/blogger-image-854443017.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoFwBMg3RnOtQBB_3lWBLF4pMlMgYNSe_C6qHArfsDxwoW3hOYhfiEeIs1DLlABFx1dvmUWiKwcIjM_sFp1dwDc-PtpMzlfFN1ly2RhwQDKaReySRFA72mBTz-cstI5YRaxyh7TZ19eys/s640/blogger-image--503078682.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoFwBMg3RnOtQBB_3lWBLF4pMlMgYNSe_C6qHArfsDxwoW3hOYhfiEeIs1DLlABFx1dvmUWiKwcIjM_sFp1dwDc-PtpMzlfFN1ly2RhwQDKaReySRFA72mBTz-cstI5YRaxyh7TZ19eys/s640/blogger-image--503078682.jpg"></a></div><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAtfcFsbO87eYTWSmsQEbMc4YwA7xrUoAJa6CPoYxF9nWGUMMDuXqHnit_JxCiqF72GYwStEIfUbZQJoTPTmqxUXKrwoD8Tho2dv0adrOY7sh3_2uoWIdyjFP0dT4GGOnUEvrTSI3pPVw/s640/blogger-image--2080345661.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAtfcFsbO87eYTWSmsQEbMc4YwA7xrUoAJa6CPoYxF9nWGUMMDuXqHnit_JxCiqF72GYwStEIfUbZQJoTPTmqxUXKrwoD8Tho2dv0adrOY7sh3_2uoWIdyjFP0dT4GGOnUEvrTSI3pPVw/s640/blogger-image--2080345661.jpg"></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPhydHBEUIjv68Q8kwDmTC37ynpUtmVF9yFmaAaVLYfacNIlAS7M2GVp8xEbghqatoR20pIKav9pCpvyIhHde3HmLn_FfxiGjkZfjv1m6z4csbdgDgaGDYd-zVOGqczBybpXy6s2FiYqk/s640/blogger-image-1808363942.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPhydHBEUIjv68Q8kwDmTC37ynpUtmVF9yFmaAaVLYfacNIlAS7M2GVp8xEbghqatoR20pIKav9pCpvyIhHde3HmLn_FfxiGjkZfjv1m6z4csbdgDgaGDYd-zVOGqczBybpXy6s2FiYqk/s640/blogger-image-1808363942.jpg"></a></div><br></div>so there ya have it. happy love day!!</div><br></div>sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-21264831587259083032015-02-01T12:56:00.001-07:002015-02-01T12:56:16.931-07:00we taught each other<div><br></div><div>one of my favorite things about belonging to the church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints is the first Sunday of the month when i have the chance to sit and listen to pure testimony and feelings from my peers. </div><div><br></div>gems this day: <div><br></div><div>- "the Lord sustains me in everything i do." </div><div><br></div><div>- "this problem will be solved through trusting God and the grace of Jesus Christ." </div><div><br></div><div>- "always think 'what can i learn from this?'" </div><div><br></div><div>- "whenever you decide to act on promptings, things fall into place."</div><div> </div><div>- "i know it not only up here (points to head), but also in here (taps heart)"</div><div><br></div><div>- "it brings me comfort to know that God will manage the decisions i make in a loving way, with confirmation that i am on the right path." </div><div><br></div><div>- "heaven is not for perfect people, it's for people willing to be perfected through the gospel of Jesus Christ."</div><div><br></div><div>- "we can go to our God and tell Him how big our problem is, or we can go o our problem and tell it how big our God is." </div><div><br></div><div>- "the Lord takes care of us. He always takes care of us." </div><div><br></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizKbCX96oI4st0YQ3JLsS0YqYLNI7cNS_FppxICk4G0t4B6wrlNeVUO-_Z5um4aGeI4apMDb8TGt6BSQPPwIIFMzUydmimyHlXbS3v8GChgqamBvrv5XzEXGvsybyYqEhxrDEJXvzZZVw/s640/blogger-image-979836931.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizKbCX96oI4st0YQ3JLsS0YqYLNI7cNS_FppxICk4G0t4B6wrlNeVUO-_Z5um4aGeI4apMDb8TGt6BSQPPwIIFMzUydmimyHlXbS3v8GChgqamBvrv5XzEXGvsybyYqEhxrDEJXvzZZVw/s640/blogger-image-979836931.jpg"></a></div><br></div>the gospel of Jesus Christ is real and it is true. </div>sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-32472995777800250062015-01-27T20:26:00.002-07:002015-01-27T20:49:31.795-07:00"this is My house""i think there is no place in the world where i feel closer to the Lord than in one of His holy temples." - president thomas s. monson<br />
<br />
i agree! i love the temple. i always have and i always will. there is an unmatched peace that floods into my heart when i walk through those doors. i love light. i love thinking about and studying about light. whenever i am in the temple, i read the same chapter of scripture every time: doctrine and covenants section 93. it teaches me a lot about light. a lot about the Savior and His expectations for us. it begins, "every soul who forsaketh his sins and cometh unto me, and calleth on my name, and obeyeth my voice, and keepeth my commandments, shall see my face and know that i am. and that i am the true light that lighteth every man that cometh into the world." <br />
<br />
it goes on to speak about the fulness of the Father that is distilled on us as we seek Him. in verse 28, it says, "he that keepeth his commandments receiveth truth and light, until he is glorified in truth and knoweth all things." there are <b>so</b> many gems in this chapter. which is why i read it and re-read it every time i'm in the temple. <br />
<br />
that verse, in its simplest form, is why i go to the temple. to be instructed and receive his truth and light. to feel of His peace and love. i believe that the fulness of the gospel and the fulness the Father has to offer will be revealed to us as we spend time serving in the temple with an open and questioning heart. being focused on the temple so much this past year has been the greatest blessing to my life. in a real way, i've experienced a focus in intentions, a greater increase of light and truth, and the resurrection of my once pondering heart. i've received many peaceful answers to prayers as i've listened to the beautiful words spoken there and felt the spirit of the place. <br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>when i go with a prepared heart, it is filled. </i><br />
<br />
i've often thought about how wonderful it would be to take a utah temple tour and visit all the operating temples in this great state of ut-hah. so, in 2014, i made it a goal for real and made it happen. "14 in '14" i called it. <br />
<br />
i learned a lot from my excursions. it was cool to compare and contrast the architecture of the different temples, as well as the cities where they are housed. but probably my favorite part about the experience besides the learning aforementioned was the friendships i strengthened and built as i went adventuring around utah with some great friends. <br />
<br />
jen johnson is the most faithful visiting teacher i've ever had. during one of our visits last year, we were chatting about temples and i told her about my goal. she instantly became my temple buddy. it was a blast getting to know her better during the longer excursions we went on. my "rule" was i had to do an endowment session and get a picture in front of every temple in order for it to "count", and that's exactly what i did. sadly, i lost the logan temple picture with melissa k. condie, but here are the rest (in no particular order). <br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>st. george with deb ireland </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
took a day trip to the old st. geezy. drove down, did a temple session, met up with a friend for lunch, then visited our dear president and sister archibald before making the journey home in the same day. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Ql5UdydAVCJaKF-gsZI6FkEIP3J5LkbsWSYOpgjVpjaEMCAlHuzbkVvCfPdgRXcnN8Cw2pkpU8z9INzKA1teImJH5DxaDXQ-pPu8r86g_leOWdciR-Z5EwGsykVDJJTERx3J3ZDB9FM/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.40.12+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Ql5UdydAVCJaKF-gsZI6FkEIP3J5LkbsWSYOpgjVpjaEMCAlHuzbkVvCfPdgRXcnN8Cw2pkpU8z9INzKA1teImJH5DxaDXQ-pPu8r86g_leOWdciR-Z5EwGsykVDJJTERx3J3ZDB9FM/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.40.12+PM.png" height="640" width="474" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>manti with jen johnson and christiana pinborough</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the manti temple is full of beautiful murals. the architecture is so unique. i was blown away by the beauty and authenticity of the paintings from floor to ceiling. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi64CjlysPYO_a7xubm3eFZ8s3SW9EAgzdyqIBQpacXspqdid3JDOFV-T4gwsyHQWbeVR-hbs-Vci3jO4sTR4pcnxvz1sNv9mFbWoq9ThO6LXdoAhJDmo2i8UdA6gL9YcJEzIiPfCJyE8U/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.40.20+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi64CjlysPYO_a7xubm3eFZ8s3SW9EAgzdyqIBQpacXspqdid3JDOFV-T4gwsyHQWbeVR-hbs-Vci3jO4sTR4pcnxvz1sNv9mFbWoq9ThO6LXdoAhJDmo2i8UdA6gL9YcJEzIiPfCJyE8U/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.40.20+PM.png" height="438" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7oWYyOZ-c_-WGOV6pSxTe2exgH_oFvohkhppBfHy2ayZisWJqG4DHA-Wp21Rmz4_0hcKy3MlT3No4bkm_HDP-EOcnqaFyjsl9LvuMbiA3GH-pDwhZ34lrrixNTu1XFPH4pwEGc9nJA4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.40.26+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj7oWYyOZ-c_-WGOV6pSxTe2exgH_oFvohkhppBfHy2ayZisWJqG4DHA-Wp21Rmz4_0hcKy3MlT3No4bkm_HDP-EOcnqaFyjsl9LvuMbiA3GH-pDwhZ34lrrixNTu1XFPH4pwEGc9nJA4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.40.26+PM.png" height="552" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBhWdlfH5qEHy41beegEm85cOVCiGq7fr2KR3-7T4O_49tyZnYhe1AB-BBJkxDeaRHCXgXqkTNkY3ZvLlwlBscoBWePOVWskeM6KInycNGV0fA41LdqPr0TiafZdRZw1GJS3UghKHtJk/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.40.31+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBhWdlfH5qEHy41beegEm85cOVCiGq7fr2KR3-7T4O_49tyZnYhe1AB-BBJkxDeaRHCXgXqkTNkY3ZvLlwlBscoBWePOVWskeM6KInycNGV0fA41LdqPr0TiafZdRZw1GJS3UghKHtJk/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.40.31+PM.png" height="534" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>salt lake with myself (thus no pic)</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
i've always loved the salt lake temple. the live session allows me to hear different things in different ways every time i attend. the salt lake temple will always be close to my heart. and honestly, it was nice to come "home" after many months of visiting other temples. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRI1UCsVQ6VBN6327LTtyeJP29nYshaIoVSiPI2bJ5tpObc0a2DdB-V_JWF2gza00T-OzG0pzpSqfZ-uH5FZO_BWZLfTzL14_14L9RL9kn8qxv8ljr91cZwPkrq6cKQfqgSJz_ipv7GL4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.43.02+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRI1UCsVQ6VBN6327LTtyeJP29nYshaIoVSiPI2bJ5tpObc0a2DdB-V_JWF2gza00T-OzG0pzpSqfZ-uH5FZO_BWZLfTzL14_14L9RL9kn8qxv8ljr91cZwPkrq6cKQfqgSJz_ipv7GL4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.43.02+PM.png" height="626" width="640" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>newly dedicated ogden with jen johnson </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
ben croshaw took me to walk around the outside of the ogden temple during the open house, but i didn't get the chance to go through it, so it was wonderful to finally see this inside of this beautifully </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
re-done temple. it was impressed with the grounds and just how extra clean and new it felt. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgek32U_V8PLxD2TThE9jbN9FQ4xzB__s8WCGBi4rZ4wppe-uKZ7Lyo6fW8edMxwMrVddolheIea8YU0u7g6hZKzwS3D01DZOuxtYZyTQUTypjaFdEWymyGzM47FJUDKAoD4A_0Yxb-8w0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.43.09+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgek32U_V8PLxD2TThE9jbN9FQ4xzB__s8WCGBi4rZ4wppe-uKZ7Lyo6fW8edMxwMrVddolheIea8YU0u7g6hZKzwS3D01DZOuxtYZyTQUTypjaFdEWymyGzM47FJUDKAoD4A_0Yxb-8w0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.43.09+PM.png" height="640" width="544" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFiAguZM6_RR5y8X3rmJjUkoANRWwidam7hlc9xkrWNTz00jBXPqFa7GDuPkJAucITFtGy7Cn7h5ZOzgpZg92EurDvDrNiNwQ17O2SxafsIqP-1UXQYf9xQud3ZpRuwnWSw6uj8cMosqc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.43.17+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFiAguZM6_RR5y8X3rmJjUkoANRWwidam7hlc9xkrWNTz00jBXPqFa7GDuPkJAucITFtGy7Cn7h5ZOzgpZg92EurDvDrNiNwQ17O2SxafsIqP-1UXQYf9xQud3ZpRuwnWSw6uj8cMosqc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.43.17+PM.png" height="640" width="474" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>jordan river with coleman ence </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
my parents were there too, but they weren't in our picture for some reason. no one i'd rather be in the temple with than my dearly beloved family. the sweetest feelings of my heart are felt when surrounded by those i love the most in the place that seals us together for eternity. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDByBiBbXhZLlxAeUBtlIVL3qyxXMfsnSA0RzgwVUgIpO6RReazSNTJ2s4rJUOnTKTWZRNxiEhMXsP9PTlmjb95dswyJA3OSmFwaEkcoZKB2jx7zS6iRtr-EThyphenhyphenW7AQ4w7E7jSVJpU3Uc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.43.24+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDByBiBbXhZLlxAeUBtlIVL3qyxXMfsnSA0RzgwVUgIpO6RReazSNTJ2s4rJUOnTKTWZRNxiEhMXsP9PTlmjb95dswyJA3OSmFwaEkcoZKB2jx7zS6iRtr-EThyphenhyphenW7AQ4w7E7jSVJpU3Uc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.43.24+PM.png" height="640" width="630" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>bountiful with madelyn ence</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
my sweet cousin hermana madelyn ence currently serves in the new york, new york </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
south mission speaking spanish like a boss. i totally miss her! but it was a great experience to </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
attend the temple with her shortly after she was endowed and before she left. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
she's killin' it out there but i can't wait till she's back...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEist64GZtxppm_oJZT1EgUshVoLNHdzKoqwwkyA0wDLGoiT7M2pkEBubLw31PVSb5Gg43jofBNdzIl7kpDJa4sJFVbKkCLQsyuhLocvOT39ED50uz2N4Zw0-a05iKL7wM0f-flQHDZwV_Q/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.43.30+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEist64GZtxppm_oJZT1EgUshVoLNHdzKoqwwkyA0wDLGoiT7M2pkEBubLw31PVSb5Gg43jofBNdzIl7kpDJa4sJFVbKkCLQsyuhLocvOT39ED50uz2N4Zw0-a05iKL7wM0f-flQHDZwV_Q/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.43.30+PM.png" height="640" width="468" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGzZiQCwFKQTyRnu6xH_lY7kcyAp12SPDdHJQd2vmQFTSDbSO69URbE1et_CcssoZOClW-1B2jtZ1YkK-_y8L5sYZqldF3B7kxg8y205CI1iZI-mInhmmRAQLHnHCxP4ZjHSCehB-5RU/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.43.35+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGzZiQCwFKQTyRnu6xH_lY7kcyAp12SPDdHJQd2vmQFTSDbSO69URbE1et_CcssoZOClW-1B2jtZ1YkK-_y8L5sYZqldF3B7kxg8y205CI1iZI-mInhmmRAQLHnHCxP4ZjHSCehB-5RU/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.43.35+PM.png" height="560" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>mount timpanogos with camille smith </i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
the first time i went to this temple for the open house, i was more concerned with the little cloth booties on my shoes than anything else. this time, decades later, i was totally blown away by the beauty of this place. it literally took my breath away. camille smith has the greatest insights; it was so cool to be in the temple with her and hear a piece of what she was thinking about it all. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrueh6EKLnBPiVkbNTHV1P7msn8f4YIR9nbbCfZkOi42mPEssTvoZLl8FA80_we8trVhH___A1QZWgGyKTSrOD-UaOG072U5GbKcH1oMm5yyRTRNvcki8rz9SQwx-g_iy3zqLq1-ZQtKM/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.45.44+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrueh6EKLnBPiVkbNTHV1P7msn8f4YIR9nbbCfZkOi42mPEssTvoZLl8FA80_we8trVhH___A1QZWgGyKTSrOD-UaOG072U5GbKcH1oMm5yyRTRNvcki8rz9SQwx-g_iy3zqLq1-ZQtKM/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.45.44+PM.png" height="640" width="638" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>provo with deb ireland </i><br />
my final stop in the tour.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-bq8uXpC53Xyz3uEaVLBY2kZRLDOre_UHjgnXNdj0IlkNRyx9NpceiCqSsmr4j5NxXVn-ljZm7Ek9hIlwo8ne3Jcjp2GopJYRZWo5296bX5WMlOwA7Kl5x4ILiEg3tWhDt0VZ_qdO9SQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+8.47.57+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-bq8uXpC53Xyz3uEaVLBY2kZRLDOre_UHjgnXNdj0IlkNRyx9NpceiCqSsmr4j5NxXVn-ljZm7Ek9hIlwo8ne3Jcjp2GopJYRZWo5296bX5WMlOwA7Kl5x4ILiEg3tWhDt0VZ_qdO9SQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+8.47.57+PM.png" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXr1E0wNuJxdg3Zb0yYzkvsDpYcQzwvpI_-Fr4nEfYunvIXSqaxwrzfZMoSjfN58yb2N6yUCiV2UQAYfj7aC9tbuEojN7163sgxUntVXr-q8LNV8oZll54cRkNTEtzVI07rj5qKzFhXE/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+8.48.02+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizXr1E0wNuJxdg3Zb0yYzkvsDpYcQzwvpI_-Fr4nEfYunvIXSqaxwrzfZMoSjfN58yb2N6yUCiV2UQAYfj7aC9tbuEojN7163sgxUntVXr-q8LNV8oZll54cRkNTEtzVI07rj5qKzFhXE/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+8.48.02+PM.png" height="640" width="474" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>vernal with jen johnson</i> </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
vernal is one of those temples that i'll be satisfied having gone just once in my life... haa. it felt more like a church building and was hard to see because of a stone wall all the way around. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
highlight of the trip was people watching at the diner we went to for lunch. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzatN_a7jdWyHnaFWXY9dLROl4iWtOsOHyEtI898OoVonsLNsWFgwrgXK9teLmwXLpSTsD6WqPvCW_xMZuZVhRHFzMQ2m0QuYLIXTpug1pg01GxobV20eeFA7T76bCPLelUTbvJfVvVo/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.45.54+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLzatN_a7jdWyHnaFWXY9dLROl4iWtOsOHyEtI898OoVonsLNsWFgwrgXK9teLmwXLpSTsD6WqPvCW_xMZuZVhRHFzMQ2m0QuYLIXTpug1pg01GxobV20eeFA7T76bCPLelUTbvJfVvVo/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.45.54+PM.png" height="640" width="494" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>monticello with jen johnson, deb ireland, and lacy smith </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
after the session, a man came up to me and said he didn't recognize us and where were we from, etc. turns out monticello is a small enough town that they don't get visitors too often, and they know <i>everyone.</i> i was impressed with his desire to know the people serving in the temple he presided over. this overnight trip was a blast, experiencing all the small town experiences and a few short sight-seeing stops on the way home (including a speeding ticket in moab.. boo...)</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbMxwy9BoHLg97ZOg9Kx2ewAJG565gBOPyeO8flYvuuhCGPI5bdI9ZACnBfd0QrZ8MS0CzeLfojrTVtGOpx44EhqUlP-B_vZcHyOjJhLdlGU4NMXDuO19_rBNV8O7MBCJzdfLVOCNS7E/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.45.59+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAbMxwy9BoHLg97ZOg9Kx2ewAJG565gBOPyeO8flYvuuhCGPI5bdI9ZACnBfd0QrZ8MS0CzeLfojrTVtGOpx44EhqUlP-B_vZcHyOjJhLdlGU4NMXDuO19_rBNV8O7MBCJzdfLVOCNS7E/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.45.59+PM.png" height="640" width="454" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz6GEDR82IXQgSgo_DLxHwYUX9Z0F_dMnIN01hgI5fNaxNDoWeoq9tIBID_T5U6HUja3P0Ky-3xzgsY_xouHyp5O5yRkc8nTHDu_RrW_nrJsx65mFQ5cFwZf3Qf32-oOat1w4lDSLTlAQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.46.05+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz6GEDR82IXQgSgo_DLxHwYUX9Z0F_dMnIN01hgI5fNaxNDoWeoq9tIBID_T5U6HUja3P0Ky-3xzgsY_xouHyp5O5yRkc8nTHDu_RrW_nrJsx65mFQ5cFwZf3Qf32-oOat1w4lDSLTlAQ/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.46.05+PM.png" height="476" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>draper with whitney england, whitney ward, and jen jones </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i love the way draper temple is situated on the hill. there is no better view than walking out of draper temple on a gorgeous summer sunset. mmm. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieJyD6t_vEyPZHXcmaatFrM-Lc_ohg78QzDExwT0YYD5rEoOxmlRj1hvxfzBthDzDi4WobH2ZjbB6u9WELQgXTYOm94MdA9oOw7-cXW5D77me3kEmUTeguDfh4gEuufgOet9tViNaX7N4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.46.10+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieJyD6t_vEyPZHXcmaatFrM-Lc_ohg78QzDExwT0YYD5rEoOxmlRj1hvxfzBthDzDi4WobH2ZjbB6u9WELQgXTYOm94MdA9oOw7-cXW5D77me3kEmUTeguDfh4gEuufgOet9tViNaX7N4/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.46.10+PM.png" height="640" width="482" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>oquirrh mountain with jen johnson </i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
ever since my first experience here during the open house a few years ago, oquirrh mountain takes the cake as my favorite utah temple. i will be married here; a fact that was solidified when i witnessed the sealing of my beautiful penny sue wallace to her sweetheart this past summer. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ12-MRialswtvw6JlM1VjoLtgUGoIdHXjbU6rbSRUsLlbDvw-8ISx5Swx-AjTM4Zw_OE85K9SWnUkl_ikMKbyP3TNBJwjMYsnCl22UET3zgzTAR7pnDaCHTCXfsnonwO31drUSXzEiBk/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.46.15+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ12-MRialswtvw6JlM1VjoLtgUGoIdHXjbU6rbSRUsLlbDvw-8ISx5Swx-AjTM4Zw_OE85K9SWnUkl_ikMKbyP3TNBJwjMYsnCl22UET3zgzTAR7pnDaCHTCXfsnonwO31drUSXzEiBk/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.46.15+PM.png" height="640" width="462" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>brigham city with jen johnson</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
brigham city was our first stop on the utah temple tour 2014. for future reference, you need an appointment to go there ;) always been impressed with the art in this temple.. it's different than you usually see, and i love that. peaches for days. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrJKkZNMbYIVhHO_Wps1kXp8SHUuIlZ9RlgDOdnyRyhSdQfWkd4D3tShJvbvP9JYHjqbJHQ6y1XY3CsfUojXh4pRk6mefHspDv_kc0AxEgETrsNs6tBSHf7t3LgaqjtJJ-oVH0WjBuPu0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.46.21+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrJKkZNMbYIVhHO_Wps1kXp8SHUuIlZ9RlgDOdnyRyhSdQfWkd4D3tShJvbvP9JYHjqbJHQ6y1XY3CsfUojXh4pRk6mefHspDv_kc0AxEgETrsNs6tBSHf7t3LgaqjtJJ-oVH0WjBuPu0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.46.21+PM.png" height="640" width="472" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnG764K1hMR4Wx39iQimmwbBzTFReb0mjcT5fIM5-04DX1vPngDr3haOZ2i78HciHBwaMQj2PBx08mbKlzAEXyodBhnwuVeqfcsh-0FFoYq4nRB7-qXZm0iwhUGf1rnWfVIPWErE7hNE0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.46.26+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnG764K1hMR4Wx39iQimmwbBzTFReb0mjcT5fIM5-04DX1vPngDr3haOZ2i78HciHBwaMQj2PBx08mbKlzAEXyodBhnwuVeqfcsh-0FFoYq4nRB7-qXZm0iwhUGf1rnWfVIPWErE7hNE0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+7.46.26+PM.png" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
i can' t decide if a new goal of visiting every temple in the US is too ambitious or not... anyone care to join? :) </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHM7fqbvzBsZviHx2ZMnZS6F2ksbg1i0eCi3-LWZWHYZ6Fl5-RR1nim2lkSqPgCpBest7lBZNLlbXSLGZ7FLa-9RC461PV4p7GWCiA1AhKGAdzUvl8j7Avhbvs9EnLjunHxkTMKb9nhkI/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+8.13.36+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHM7fqbvzBsZviHx2ZMnZS6F2ksbg1i0eCi3-LWZWHYZ6Fl5-RR1nim2lkSqPgCpBest7lBZNLlbXSLGZ7FLa-9RC461PV4p7GWCiA1AhKGAdzUvl8j7Avhbvs9EnLjunHxkTMKb9nhkI/s1600/Screen+Shot+2015-01-27+at+8.13.36+PM.png" height="384" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-63119085327020845252014-11-30T20:15:00.000-07:002014-11-30T20:15:39.419-07:00the pursuit of happiness
<style>
<!--
/* Font Definitions */
@font-face
{font-family:Cambria;
panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
@font-face
{font-family:"Love Ya Like A Sister Solid";
panose-1:2 0 5 3 0 0 0 2 0 4;
mso-font-charset:0;
mso-generic-font-family:auto;
mso-font-pitch:variable;
mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;}
/* Style Definitions */
p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal
{mso-style-parent:"";
margin-top:0in;
margin-right:0in;
margin-bottom:10.0pt;
margin-left:0in;
mso-pagination:widow-orphan;
font-size:12.0pt;
font-family:"Times New Roman";
mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria;
mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria;
mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria;
mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";}
@page Section1
{size:8.5in 11.0in;
margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in;
mso-header-margin:.5in;
mso-footer-margin:.5in;
mso-paper-source:0;}
div.Section1
{page:Section1;}
/* List Definitions */
@list l0
{mso-list-id:664865114;
mso-list-type:hybrid;
mso-list-template-ids:-1407966824 67698703 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715;}
@list l0:level1
{mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;}
@list l1
{mso-list-id:1926259994;
mso-list-type:hybrid;
mso-list-template-ids:587116696 67698703 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715 67698703 67698713 67698715;}
@list l1:level1
{mso-level-tab-stop:none;
mso-level-number-position:left;
text-indent:-.25in;}
ol
{margin-bottom:0in;}
ul
{margin-bottom:0in;}
-->
</style>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I spoke in church today, and a few people asked for the transcript of my talk. So, I wrote it out and thought I'd share it here too. Enjoy :) </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><b>The Pursuit of Happiness - </b>November 30<br />Sara Ence, Westminster YSA Ward </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I know Jesus Christ lives. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is my personal Savior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of all the things I could share from
this pulpit today, that is the most important.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Christ has provided a path for us, a path that is well-lit
and full of support.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We are
promised that if we follow that path, we will be blessed with happiness in this
life, and eternal life in the world to come.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today, I’ve chosen to speak about the pursuit of that
happiness in our lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">There’s a man named Benjamin Wallace
that lives in Manhattan.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is an
author, and wrote a book called “The Billionaire’s Vinegar” which addressed a
mystery about the world’s most expensive bottle of wine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In this process of writing this book,
he went on a quest to answer this question:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Why do people spend crazy amounts of money on things, and
are they living a better life than me be because of it?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Basically “Can you purchase happiness?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">With the backing of a magazine he
was then writing for, he went out and tried the most expensive item in
about a dozen categories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Things
like test driving a Bugatti, staying at a $40,000 a night hotel, purchasing an
$800 pair of jeans, and eating a $180 piece of Kobe beef steak.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also did some research about an
experiment that Stanford and Cal Tech students performed where they brought in
a bunch of people and hooked them up to brain imaging, then asked them to taste
test different bottles of wine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>All the wine was the same, but they were labeled with different price
tags.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">In the end, all the people in the
study not only claimed to enjoy the more expensively labeled wine more than the
others, but the brain imaging results proved that they did indeed feel more
pleasure from the “more expensive” wine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Benjamin’s conclusion was that you actually <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">can</i> buy happiness, but our happiness is reflected through the way
that we perceive things, and our value system.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">There’s another man named Dan
Gilbert who is a Harvard psychologist and authored a book called “Stumbling on
Happiness”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In this book, he
challenges an idea that we are naturally miserable when we don’t get what we
want. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He performed one experiment where he
put 7 Monet prints in front of different people and asked them to rank the
prints in order of the one they liked the most to the one they liked the
least.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When they were done
ordering them, he told them they could take either choice 3 or 4 home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone chose the painting they had
ranked in 3<sup>rd</sup> place.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A
week later, he invited the same people back to rank the same Monet prints
again.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Without fail, every person
ranked the previous 3<sup>rd</sup> choice (the one they had taken home and
spent all week with) as their new #1 choice, and their original 4<sup>th</sup>
choice as their last choice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
result was consistent for even the amnesia patients, who didn’t even know they
had a Monet print in their hospital room, and didn’t remember anything about
ranking them previously.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Dan Gilbert goes on to speak about
the difference between natural happiness – what we get when we get what we want
- and Synthetic happiness – what we<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> make</i></b> when we don’t get what we
want.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">He came to the conclusion that in
the long run, people are actually much happier when they have synthesized or
constructed their own happiness, rather than given what they thought they
wanted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I find it interesting that the
research of the world will often parallel principles of the gospel, just in
more secular terms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Elder Wirthlin
said, “Come what may and love it!”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>President Monson instructs, “Let us relish life as we live it, and find
joy in the journey”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2 Nephi 2:25
says, “Men are that they <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">might</i> have
joy” – a conditional statement which the Lord has placed responsibility on us
to FIND joy in whatever season of life we are in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I believe all humans desire
happiness in their lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But the
way they define happiness, or what makes them happy, is different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Recently I’ve been thinking about when
in my life have I been the happiest?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>What was I doing in my life at that time?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>What kind of happiness am I synthesizing in my life, and how
does that tie into the things I know about the doctrines of eternity?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I started conducting some field
research of my own - asking people of all ages the top three things that make
them the happiest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The most
entertaining of answers came from my first grade students: minecraft, pokemon,
indoor recess… But even these answers were consistent with the general public,
in that all the answers I received fell into 4 categories.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a general rule, these 4 categories
are what make people the happiest: </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Taking
time to be grateful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Doing
things that we love. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Serving
others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l1 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Living
the gospel and keeping our covenants.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I will briefly touch on each of
these.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">1.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Being
grateful.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In Nov. 2012, I heard a
talk that changed my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was
at a time in my life when I was just existing, surviving… going through some
interesting health challenges, and having a hard time finding happiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The man speaking told of a challenge he
had given himself to write down 3 things each night that he was grateful for,
and every week, he wrote a thank you note.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He challenged us to do the same, and promised us that if we
did, we would find greater happiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>It was a simple challenge and a simple promise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In 2013, I took the challenge, and it’s
the most consistent I’ve ever been with any new years resolution.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every week in 2013, I wrote a thank you
note to someone.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every night, I
wrote down 3 things I was grateful for.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And the promise was fulfilled… I was happier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was able to find joy in my circumstances.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I believe that we find what we’re looking
for, and when I was looking for things to be grateful for, I was a more
grateful person and a happier person.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span><br />
<br />
President Uchtdorf recently gave a talk where he talked about gratitude as a
disposition in our lives… a way of life that stands independent from our
current situation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He’s agreeing
with Dan Gilbert, just in holier terms.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>We can and should choose to be grateful IN our circumstances, rather
than being grateful FOR things.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>This time of year, we tend to focus on gratitude a little more, which is
great, but I testify that having that disposition of gratitude all the time is
a refreshing thing because my gratitude challenge of 2013, which I
appropriately named “The Pursuit of Happiness”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">2.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Doing
the things that we love.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
includes spending time with family and friends, hobbies, taking time to relax,
vacations, cultivating different talents, finding joy in our successes in
employment or school. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid";"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">3.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Serving
Others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>When I had just got back
from my mission, I was having a hard time adjusting back to the singles
ward.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I was called to be a ward
missionary and assigned to help a man named Ferny.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ferny was trying to become active again to stand as a proxy
for his dad and seal his parents together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ferny was a sponge, and it was exciting to teach him because
he was so attentive and ready to learn.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I soon realized that I was coming to church and activities not for
myself, but for Ferny – to help him meet people and answer questions he had, to
help him make connections.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This
experience changed the way I viewed service in the church, and the purpose of
church.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Besides partaking the
sacrament, I realized that nothing about church was for me, but to give me
opportunities to serve other people and bring them closer to Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I am grateful to belong to a church
where we are given ample opportunities to serve in capacities that we might not
otherwise choose.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
I also recently read an article called “6 Subtle Things Highly Productive
People Do Everyday”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>In this
article it talked about time management being more about managing feelings than
anything else.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It said that highly
productive people take time in their week to serve<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>because it makes them happier, and when they are happier,
they accomplish more. <br />
<br />
Of course the ultimate example of living a life of service is the life of the
Savior, Jesus Christ.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He lived for
other people, and lived a happy life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I am grateful for His example in my life of how to more perfectly serve
those that He has placed in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo2; text-indent: -.25in;">
<span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Cambria; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";">
</span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">Living the gospel / keeping
covenants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Elder Corbridge of the
70 once said, “There is only one way to happiness and fulfillment.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Jesus Christ is the way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every other way, any other way,
whatever other way, is foolishness.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Of all the things in my life that make me happy, living the principles
of the gospel trumps them all.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Because it’s eternal happiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Lasting happiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Happiness rooted in constant things that never waver or change. <br />
<br />
In the Bible Dictionary, we learn that we are given the spirit in this life as
a foretaste of the joy that will be ours in the eternities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’m so grateful for that spirit and for
the joy and peace I feel because of His influence in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve thought before what that kind of
eternal joy might feel like.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
don’t think we can comprehend it.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>But it makes me excited that those kinds of feelings are in store for
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><br />
<br />
The scriptures are FULL of stories and great verses about finding
happiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>2 Nephi 5:27 - “And it
came to pass that we lived after the manner of happiness.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Background: Nephites have just
separated themselves from the Lamanites.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>They are building a temple, living righteously, doing what the Lord
wants them to do, learning how to build, working hard to support
themselves.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Result: They are
blessed with happiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Same
patterns apply in my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everything
about the gospel makes me happy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
testify that when we are actively pursuing the things of eternity, we are
enabled to feel a portion of the eternal joy that will be available to us if we
stay faithful and continue to keep our covenants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This is made possible only through the Atonement and the
doctrine of Christ – exercising faith, repenting and changing, being baptized,
receiving and using the gift of the Holy Ghost to guide us, and enduring to the
end, which is really just repeating those steps over and over again. <br />
Elder Scott said, “Your joy in life depends upon your trust in Heavenly Father
and His holy Son, your conviction that their plan of happiness truly can bring
you joy.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have to believe that
promise.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We have to choose
joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">And that is the challenge I’m giving
myself, and invite each of you to take as well: to choose joy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To do the things in your life that make
you the happiest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To take time to
be grateful, to serve others, to do the things that you love, and to live the
gospel and faithfully keep your covenants.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To construct happiness in your life no matter the situation
or circumstance you are in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
promise that as you do, you will feel a greater measure of the Lord’s love in
your life, especially as you turn to Him for the source of your happiness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">I love this gospel.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I love the Lord.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And say these things in the name of
Jesus Christ, Amen.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"></span><span style="font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"></span><span style="font-family: "Love Ya Like A Sister Solid"; font-size: 10.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span>
</div>
sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-42145190320844273602014-11-17T22:47:00.005-07:002014-11-17T22:47:56.219-07:00#ragswag<div style="text-align: left;">
inspired by laci's post about birthday parties, here's a do's and don'ts list when running a ragnar: </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO score the easiest leg by becoming buddy-buddy with your team captain. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO NOT complain about how hard your legs are going to be, when you have the easiest of all. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO train. train hard. and train consistently. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO NOT worry about no sleep. adrenaline will kick in. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO decorate your van. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO NOT hashtag your name on other people's vans. #lloyd </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO dress up if you want but DO NOT dress up so bad you can't run well. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO bring enough food to keep you well fed and DO eat it. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO NOT eat half an hour before you run. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO eat the gummy energy shot block chews. they'll save your energy. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO talk to other people on your runs... it makes the time go faster. aka DO NOT be worried about your "kills". </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO take time to stretch before and after each run. especially after each run. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO turn up your music and jam while you're driving around! the more fun, the better! </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO take the time to meet up with the other van and party it up at the exchanges! </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO NOT make fun of people you pass because they just might beat you soon. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO NOT breathe or look down in the porta potties. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO bring your own hand sanitizer. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO show appreciation for the people that sponsor each exchange. they work hard. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO NOT forget sunscreen or a sweatshirt. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO bring comfy clothes to wear when you're not running - especially comfy shoes. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO run with a sweet group of people, but DO NOT be worried if you don't know all of them yet... you will soon enough! </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO NOT shower and get a hotel in between runs... that takes away the full experience! </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO come home and sleep for 12+ hours 2 nights in a row. your body needs the rejuvination. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO NOT sign up for another race within 36 hours of you finishing. ha ha. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO celebrate your victories as a team! </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO have the most supportive people with you in the van. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO NOT complain about the little stuff... everyone already knows about the little stuff... </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
DO have the time of your life with your new best friends celebrating an adventure you've all conquered together :) </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
coleman and i before our first runs. that mountain in the background is where my first run was! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCC2E-mBN_KTcSMP-8kvVIn3K-33YAbVYzknjGTZ-8-hOX1D-3ulOWqgTBu3621u_7XsE0keMkoPzU2LvKPIHPMSOyTcesbSjoCJFnsmRp0yzlOKjLMTBZkPfQsZmMUefhyphenhyphenoQfwnK82oc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.19.36+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCC2E-mBN_KTcSMP-8kvVIn3K-33YAbVYzknjGTZ-8-hOX1D-3ulOWqgTBu3621u_7XsE0keMkoPzU2LvKPIHPMSOyTcesbSjoCJFnsmRp0yzlOKjLMTBZkPfQsZmMUefhyphenhyphenoQfwnK82oc/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.19.36+PM.png" height="236" width="320" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
van #2! my crew! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizjz_m0pah50OIVijJkiCisNvB5lcJUge-07IOShufztn5zBXDbCskbQsfFRit0olJyhp3xiObM7DlvVt8syFSrNSkk2QKpdT0pGM8OiEE-s00LjUepTV0kvMDDGFVZlrgjyxINRBwaj0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.19.42+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizjz_m0pah50OIVijJkiCisNvB5lcJUge-07IOShufztn5zBXDbCskbQsfFRit0olJyhp3xiObM7DlvVt8syFSrNSkk2QKpdT0pGM8OiEE-s00LjUepTV0kvMDDGFVZlrgjyxINRBwaj0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.19.42+PM.png" height="236" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the ladies (minus rylee) </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEnLkMsYZ8UvKfvmULTMd6ev3F4aFVWyCjPY7lZoGUumn96o-8ITJG76S11aFc54dHpSb-Qs9R_sYxdesxVjgjDJFeL5kYTPIPiO4pkWkzL8XDnaz5YLmVYGgjNq5LxldT_4Jlxpx240A/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.19.49+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhEnLkMsYZ8UvKfvmULTMd6ev3F4aFVWyCjPY7lZoGUumn96o-8ITJG76S11aFc54dHpSb-Qs9R_sYxdesxVjgjDJFeL5kYTPIPiO4pkWkzL8XDnaz5YLmVYGgjNq5LxldT_4Jlxpx240A/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.19.49+PM.png" height="290" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
coleman and i at the finish line, victorious! feeling SO good right now. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBR3H4OP8gYFggfmUL6Ssd_lBbprc7FQDWwPmv6R9-xrwvQaSY13nvYkJIrbEu5CPC5fAAWwxxDPLOS0Sod_hJsGHKxpMMpbPvD1_eUveAYv4quVy1jzpOgWaT7lFT-jFj7UKpPUgwEe0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.23.56+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBR3H4OP8gYFggfmUL6Ssd_lBbprc7FQDWwPmv6R9-xrwvQaSY13nvYkJIrbEu5CPC5fAAWwxxDPLOS0Sod_hJsGHKxpMMpbPvD1_eUveAYv4quVy1jzpOgWaT7lFT-jFj7UKpPUgwEe0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.23.56+PM.png" height="320" width="234" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
me slapping that bracelet onto ally morgan and finishing my last leg!! woo!! </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCK8FOK5sbFkKMnKyCWYUhPEhJNNcUR-pO4lpL7aTBa5sHry4I80lGPCEH_arwhESy-OUoX7C1Bn2UhigotZU1ddkIRXhKpOejFwkIsDp0UokjK3WCdILDjMqMrwW6nSwvwAmhdjTK7KU/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.23.38+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCK8FOK5sbFkKMnKyCWYUhPEhJNNcUR-pO4lpL7aTBa5sHry4I80lGPCEH_arwhESy-OUoX7C1Bn2UhigotZU1ddkIRXhKpOejFwkIsDp0UokjK3WCdILDjMqMrwW6nSwvwAmhdjTK7KU/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.23.38+PM.png" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
coleman and nick at the exchange. these boys kept us laughing :) </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRhR5vr0SBkt8VS_e0ikdVBteinf14-ziMUhVkqUe_ZhxvKZ-IKjoHHGIRDWq8blWp3ghWWrr-yYwcWHTDDT8lK4CAdG4_NLl-l_J-AsYC1uQgmSidryble5zGRZivi28o2PW2eDkU2Gs/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.23.43+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRhR5vr0SBkt8VS_e0ikdVBteinf14-ziMUhVkqUe_ZhxvKZ-IKjoHHGIRDWq8blWp3ghWWrr-yYwcWHTDDT8lK4CAdG4_NLl-l_J-AsYC1uQgmSidryble5zGRZivi28o2PW2eDkU2Gs/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.23.43+PM.png" height="234" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
rag swag tat. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1TPlQAmB4iiTbXNpfAoPe4glEOdsdL6eAgDt3_MvB0K91hxZ2zdKWf0c6QKTGxNyB5Zkv1ILXM6nP5R1s1StmWSVW8T4gpVaPfq6ANyvzEK64zbxPKTTxe2Kniwd3YjIh0kGuiaAcN3Y/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+10.23.59+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1TPlQAmB4iiTbXNpfAoPe4glEOdsdL6eAgDt3_MvB0K91hxZ2zdKWf0c6QKTGxNyB5Zkv1ILXM6nP5R1s1StmWSVW8T4gpVaPfq6ANyvzEK64zbxPKTTxe2Kniwd3YjIh0kGuiaAcN3Y/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+10.23.59+PM.png" height="320" width="238" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
coleman and ally with phyllis..the ragnar virgin van. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYFD8WwROdWDb1iWxCBEAjiFE7vRTOVuUD1sp8mv2O3oXwau0BU0jOdmD4FHVYFcltcbDbmPNHy38XfHFWUAOCXjcQT6UTWZc3IuHnlaM1V9D56TdGhoBGlZdWvmHJuYT6CXYnL40kEw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+10.24.07+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjYFD8WwROdWDb1iWxCBEAjiFE7vRTOVuUD1sp8mv2O3oXwau0BU0jOdmD4FHVYFcltcbDbmPNHy38XfHFWUAOCXjcQT6UTWZc3IuHnlaM1V9D56TdGhoBGlZdWvmHJuYT6CXYnL40kEw/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+10.24.07+PM.png" height="236" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
just hangin' on the grass before my third and final run. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_4P_yDOkXMlLGbztvz0hhdRRtPna0PUKQuDAbW5Sdt4xOfy2Ks6eXlhtVnyuA4zphaf61zQD9luS2JHcXhivj0VyJmcIPC0n1vseVS6kfZns_bLWvx_AXda-n9zGqlfE2wrWiTodPqvY/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+10.24.15+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_4P_yDOkXMlLGbztvz0hhdRRtPna0PUKQuDAbW5Sdt4xOfy2Ks6eXlhtVnyuA4zphaf61zQD9luS2JHcXhivj0VyJmcIPC0n1vseVS6kfZns_bLWvx_AXda-n9zGqlfE2wrWiTodPqvY/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+10.24.15+PM.png" height="246" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
this interesting man saved my life on the third leg. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj73r8nqAwAVrxvM-dkGT8sskcOyvgN2s_oG24ETTZHiakJUHuZwoXqePvjRZjyrs9UF1YliOy-qheEcUjS3F-Ji48jzXFiKkXbNiSO_piP8hcqAzp6FZiIpQNR20q-6Kxm9loA82sIgJs/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+10.24.22+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj73r8nqAwAVrxvM-dkGT8sskcOyvgN2s_oG24ETTZHiakJUHuZwoXqePvjRZjyrs9UF1YliOy-qheEcUjS3F-Ji48jzXFiKkXbNiSO_piP8hcqAzp6FZiIpQNR20q-6Kxm9loA82sIgJs/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+10.24.22+PM.png" height="271" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Cwgm4zhtU067U9o3yeRkqhfzUDHvnWF4nwoWllEKfoWVj27xodd9yAuQHhBgQJmYpzibY0fLLDzfqFLUYwLBU2ApaF5ksAuUaLNVuDKpn0Wk2bHPNsGe94qLF8Wwj5XpD9oATld01y0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.19.54+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5Cwgm4zhtU067U9o3yeRkqhfzUDHvnWF4nwoWllEKfoWVj27xodd9yAuQHhBgQJmYpzibY0fLLDzfqFLUYwLBU2ApaF5ksAuUaLNVuDKpn0Wk2bHPNsGe94qLF8Wwj5XpD9oATld01y0/s1600/Screen+Shot+2014-11-17+at+6.19.54+PM.png" height="210" width="320" /> </a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
THE TEAM. wii not fit. logan + provo + salt lake + sugarhouse. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
until next time, ragnar. until next time. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-22854233676213726372014-11-01T12:06:00.004-06:002014-11-01T12:06:43.892-06:00the tinder effect. a little story about tinder magic, brought to you by me dear friend krys gardner: <br />
<br />
Let's just say that it all began in the park; that is where I was when the ball started rolling. It was April, the sun was out, and well it was the proverbial mating season. Not like the mammal mating season, but the mating season that I like to call the Spring love. I am sure that you have seen it before. Just as it starts to warm up it seems as though all the singles in highly concentrated young adult area suddenly get all excited again that it is warm, so they drop what they should be doing and start their pursuit of a mate. Outdoor recreation increases, talks about boating trips and summer flings are discussed.<br /><br />
Well, it was that time of year, but it also happened to be my last semester in college that just so happened to be in one of these highly concentrated young adult areas. It is needless to say that my so called "school load" was less of a load and more of a hop skip in the park. So when it came to the end of the semester and the dreaded finals time there was little if anything to worry about. I was more concerned about how I could make a scene in the testing center filled with younger college students - the ones who still had semesters left in college - upon completion of my last "final".<br /><br />Trying, but not trying excessively hard, to do the college last minute cram prep for my final I began making plans to study. Being one who lives for warm weather, I refused to be stuck with the masses inside a library where the air is stuffy, natural light doesn't shine, and there is a great feeling of anxiety in the air. (The irony of belief that if I spend the next 4 hours learning I'll remember everything I didn't learn over the past 4 months and that I have to learn in order to pass this class to not ruin the rest of my life). I thought to call a good friend of mine, a friend I knew was more the relaxed type and who was in her last semester as well. "Hey, so are you studying... well, we should go to the park to study, I think it would be good for us." It didn't take a whole lot of convincing for her to say yes, and with a moments notice we were off to the park to sun bathe, laugh, and talk about how much studying we hadn't done because it was our last semester of college.<br /><br />Over the years I have always joked about being ADD, however let me be clear in saying that I have never been clinically or officially diagnosed. I am just one who has a talent for being distracted - squirrel. I have gone far enough to try and take online tests, and in one case was successful at completing the test because I had a friend who made me do it. The result of the test was an obvious likely candidate for ADD. This isn't to complain though because life never gets boring. Back to the story though...<br /><br />Being a self-diagnosed ADD student, being at the park did nothing to help me concentrate and to study. After settling in on the grass with blanket and all, a couple couldn't have appeared more than 50 yards away to "play" football. We know they weren't there to play football though... football was merely the justified activity that broke the physical touch barrier that ultimately led to a giant cuddle and make out fest on the grass. To each their own; there was nothing that they did that bothered me, but I couldn't help look and think...<br /><br />Long story short, I redownloaded the well-known, under-appreciated app Tinder. For those reading this that don't know what Tinder is, there is no time to explain in detail the app. For those who have judged and said I am shallow, judge as you will.<br /><br />--------<br /><br />THIS is where it all started. Upon downloading the app I had decided I would start conversation with every match I had. I spent the better part of a couple of hours swiping and starting conversations with cheese ball one liners. Over this short period of time I was incredibly successful having 15+ new matches and started an easy 10+ new conversations. I quickly went from having a very open schedule to being consumed with trying to keep Addy straight from Kayla, Nikky from Maddy, and the like. And to be completely honest I did confuse a couple at one point, but it was Tinder so recovery was fairly easy. My phone went from being able to survive for the better part of the day to suddenly only lasting a couple of hours before begging to be charged.<br /><br />DISCLAIMER: I hadn't deleted an account I had made earlier so I had stored up a bunch of potential matches... I don't really get that many matches all the time... I am really just average. Not a Provo Alastair with lots of tan pictures of me and my six pack of abs sitting on a boat at Lake Powell.<br /><br />When it comes to the Meyers Briggs personality profile I am a definite E for Extrovert rather than being an I for introvert. Talking to people is just my thing. It has its pros and its cons and every time I take a career placement test I am told I should be in some kind of counseling, teaching, or sales position because of my need for constant communication and social interaction. Having the multiplicity of new matches I was eager to get to know all of them so I would spend the vast majority of my days (and often into the hours of the night) talking and getting to know each of these girls.<br /><br />Now lets be honest, I wasn't just interested in talking to the girls all the time. Don't let your mind wander; these girls had passed the physical attraction test, and if they could pass the communication test why not actually go out with them. The semester was quickly over and the dates begun.<br /><br />I remember a lot of them well. There were a lot of great girls and consequently a lot of great dates. We did anything from lunch to going shooting, or playing in the park and a motorcycle ride. I had the mentality that if I wanted to go do something, I might as well invite a girl to come do it with me. Interestingly enough though, there was this one girl (we will call her Nikki for the sake of this blog post).<br /><br />Nikki was very desirable. She either knew how to play the game well or she was just really lucky, but she was also extremely frustrating. Her profile pictures resembled much of the ones that are good enough to draw you in, but leave you just enough mystery to keep you in suspense with a sense of mild indecision on exactly how attractive she is. There was no doubt she was definitely hot. Her pictures also did a great job at telling a story. She was funny (insert picture of her laughing her head off for no reason other than to take the picture for Tinder). She was sophisticated (insert picture playing a musical instrument). She was fun (insert picture of her playing outdoors). She was spiritual (insert picture of her with friends at what appears to be a church). She was hot (insert well practiced selfie that doesn't overwhelm).<br /><br />All I wanted for Christmas (in Spring) was to meet Nikki in person and the fact that she made it difficult just made me chase harder and harder. We probably had 2 or 3 dates that were supposed to happen but due to issues on both parities accounts fell through. Despite the failed attempts we continued to talk semi-frequently.<br /><br />Nikki couldn't last forever though. As if it was a horse-race, eventually I got burned out with Nikki and a new prospect appeared on the horizon. For times sake, we will cut to the chase and say right now the new prospect won out. For better or for worse I kind of just dropped things with Nikki... mid-conversation and all (remember the squirrel ADD problem, it happens with girls too).<br /><br />Fast forward 6 months. At this point I had dated and broken up with the new prospect and had a few other flings after.<br /><br />I get this text, "Hey, are you free on January 5?" from my old roommate who I was living with when I downloaded Tinder. "Uh, that is kind of far out, so I am going to say yeah", I replied. "Cool, I AM GETTING MARRIED, and want you there". I didn't even know my buddy was dating someone so this came somewhat of a shock. Of course I said yes and I moved on, but a couple of days later I got a big surprise.<br /><br />I opened up Instagram and there was picture of my buddy with his new fiancé. I knew her and I couldn't figure it out, and then it clicked. NIKKI. NIKKI. NIKKI. Oh crap! My old roommate is getting married to this girl that I chased and talked to a bunch on Tinder. I know this really isn't a big deal, but it really is an awkward deal.<br /><br />Yeah so if I can recognize her that quick, do you think she'll recognize me? And just how does that conversation go when I meet her for the first time most-likely in wedding ceremony? Do I tell my buddy before hand? Or do I let it ride and see if she brings it up? And if she brings it up do I act ignorant like I don't know what she is talking about? Or do I just wait till the wedding and my first line to her in the presence of my buddy, "Oh hey, we both swipped right, I remember you!"<br /><br />For now, it is a mystery how it will all go down, but for the last option sounds the most plausible.sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-52608714703801412932014-09-25T22:00:00.001-06:002014-09-25T22:00:19.282-06:00when the mannequins are missing limbs. i went shopping last night. and a shirt got stuck on me in the dressing room. like, worse than it's ever been. i should've known better that tugging so hard to get it on was a bad idea. i was <b>dying</b> of laughter in there. so much that the associate asked if i was ok. i told her i was stuck ha ha ha ha. she asked if i needed help, but i don't know if she really thought that question through too well... did she really want to come in the dressing room and help me get my shirt off? i hope not.. maybe it's one of those courteous things to say? ha ha ha ha ha. so then she just laughed with me, outside the door. and i never knew when or if she walked away...? <br />
<br />
but i literally just couldn't get the shirt off for a good 3 minutes. just tug tug tug. then i had to walk out to the associate and hand her the item. she had this silly smirk on her face and i was a mess... red face, hair totally messed up, a little embarrassed... but it was like we bonded over the funny moment. hahahahaha. anyway, on my way home, i was just thinking about all the interesting things that happen when shopping. and how many pet peeves i have about shopping. here's a compilation of a few - most of which have to do with the dressing room. <br />
<br />
when you're in the dressing room and the associate knocks on the door to see if you need anything. i never know if they're talking to me or someone else... so do you respond? <br />
<br />
when the associate knocks on the door when you're in the dressing room to see if the room is occupied or not. i also never know if they're knocking on my door or someone else's. and what do you respond? "here!" "occupied" "yes, may i help you?" bahhh. <br />
<br />
when you go in the dressing room and the associate says "let me know if you need another size". i've always wondered how exactly i let them know that... it's not like they stand there and wait for you to drape a shirt over the door. and i'm not about to walk out in my underwear to ask her for another size. furthermore, if i'm going to put my real shirt on and come out anyway, what's the point of having an associate find the size? i just assume to find it myself. useless customer service. <br />
<br />
when the associates at downeast ask your name and write it on the door they <i>always</i> put an "h" on sara. my biggest pet peeve second only to the 1/16 ply toilet paper in public restrooms (a post for another day).<br />
<br />
when you're walking into the dressing room and the associate goes in before you to clean it out and holds the door open for you... so you have to shimmy your way past them with your armful of clothes, usually scraping them with one of the hangers sticking out. <br />
<br />
when you've been holding the hangers on your hand so long that your hand is turning blue from no circulation. <br />
<br />
when you get in the dressing room and the associate hasn't cleaned out the room, so you have to find a place to hang your clothes amongst all the others draped everywhere. <br />
<br />
when there is only <i>one hook</i> in the entire dressing room. i need at least 3. one for clothes i haven't tried on yet, one for things i'm going to buy, and one for things i'm going to not buy. old navy has this going right. <br />
<br />
when the dressing room has little numbered cards that you take to your room and i never know if they want them on the door so they can see, or just take them in? target you take them in, but gordman's hangs on the door. it's just so hard to tell! argh. <br />
<br />
when there's a limit of how many clothes you can take in, and you have <b>one more</b> item than that limit but the associate makes you leave the one item with her and come back to exchange it when you're done trying on the others. this means you have to get re-dressed and come back out then go back in and get undressed again. for ONE ITEM. <br />
<br />
when each associate in the store pretends to be folding a shirt near you then proceeds to ask if you're finding everything ok. my question is, do most people come to a clothing store looking for <b>one specific thing</b>?? aren't most people "just looking?" i am... this question bothers me. just let me shop in peace. if i need you, i know where to find you. <br />
<br />
when all the associates ignore you. i realize this is completely contrary to the previous point... but i think there's a nice balance between being friendly and acknowledging your customers, and being a helicopter associate vs. acting like you aren't even in the store, ya know? <br />
<br />
when all the songs on the store radio make you want to die. <br />
<br />
when you're ready to try the clothes on and you don't know if you have to ask for a fitting room to be opened or not. sometimes when you ask for a room to be opened, the associate rolls her eyes and says, "they're open..." and sometimes when you go to find one on your own, you have to bend over and check underneath the stalls to see if anyone is in there and the associate sees you and asks if you need a room and i want to reply, "no, i'm just looking under the doors for fun..." or places like smith's marketplace, where you have to pick up the phone and it calls an associate to come to your assistance and you just stand there awkwardly waiting until they come. and if they never do you just climb under the door. totally proper, right? <br />
<br />
when you're in the dressing room and the floor is nastier than heck and you don't want to take your shoes off. i'm talking mostly about thrift stores here. i always pray that i don't get some sort of foot fungus or tape worm from stepping on the floors of some dressing rooms. you think i'm joking about the praying thing? i'm not. <br />
<br />
when you put on a shirt then soon realize it's stuck. like, so stuck that you <i>cannot</i> get it off yourself. you shimmy and shake and slither and pull and tug with your arms straight up in the air for what seems like forever and by the time it's off your hair is a mess including being extremely static and you have red marks all over your arms and face from pulling <br />
<br />
when you're trying on an item that is too small or you didn't realize there was a hidden zipper and you hear a seam rip. oops... <br />
<br />
when you're coming out of the dressing room and it's not clear where you put your unwanted clothes. do you leave them in the room? give them to an associate? hang them on a rack outside the room? put them back yourself?! <br />
<br />
when you aren't familiar with the sizing of the store, so you pick a bunch of clothes off the rack that you think are your size, but when you get to the dressing room you realize after trying on the first one that they run small, so you have 7 items that don't fit. eek. <br />
<br />
when something looks dynamite on the rack or mannequin, but when you put it on you wonder if that was the same shirt that was being advertised. <br />
<br />
when the mannequins are missing limbs. <br />
<br />
when you're checking out and the associate asks if you found everything ok. i've honest to goodness never known how to answer that. if i did by chance have a list of clothing items that i was looking for, the chances that i really did find every single thing i was looking for during that hour at that store is pretty slim. and if i didn't have a list, i feel like to say "yes" to that question would be to lie. i didn't find everything, but how could i when i didn't even know what i was looking for to begin with. or what about those yellow pants i really wanted to buy but they had every size but mine? did she want me to rant about that? <br />
<br />
when you're at the cash register and the associate tells you about a deal... "this variety of shirt is buy one get one half off" and you feel pressured to buy another one... but there are tons of people waiting in line so you have to make a quick decision about which one you want and hope that it fits because you didn't try it on. <br />
<br />
when you're at the cash register and try to be friendly and the friendliness isn't returned. small talk aint gonna kill ya, sweetheart. <br />
<br />
when you walk out of the store and the door beeps, making a huge scene. <br />
<br />
when you walk out of the store and the door beeps, making a huge scene, but none of the associates look up. so you're looking around all suspicious-like trying to decide if you should walk back to the associate desk or just walk away and they're giving no non-verbal or verbal cues. <br />
<br />
when you walk out of the store and the door beeps, making a huge scene, and other customers look at you disgustedly as if your associate forgetting to take the ink tag of was your fault. i'm not stealing, i promise. <br />
<br />
when you walk out of the store and get into your car, or home, and realize the ink tags are still on and you have to go back to the store to get them removed. #worst<br />
<br />
so that's that. all i have left to say is, last night i really thought i might have to cut that shirt off, then pay for the damage. or worse, wear it the rest of my life. close call. close call. sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-76562317288564221722014-09-20T23:28:00.000-06:002014-09-20T23:30:40.802-06:00i'm immune to the cheese touchas a teacher, i find myself saying things that a normal adult would probably never say in the course of a day, unless they have kids of their own, or work with them. some gems that've popped out of my mouth this week alone: <br />
<br />
- i'm immune to the cheese touch<br />
- the pencil does not belong up your nose<br />
- the pencil is not chocolate<br />
- the pencil is not a sword<br />
- the pencil is not a light saber either<br />
- no, that wasn't your pencil talking, i can see your lips moving <br />
- the pencil is for writing, not scratching your bum<br />
- if the pencil is dull, the proper way to sharpen it is with the sharpener, not your teeth <br />
- stop barking at me<br />
- does it look like i'm about to have a baby? <br />
- your boogers need to stay in your nose<br />
- stop cuddling on the rug<br />
- six years old is too young to have a boyfriend <br />
- last time i checked fingers don't talk<br />
- your thinking cap is broken?<br />
- why have your eyes been crossed all morning? <br />
- no, you may not hold hands with your boyfriend in line<br />
- if i'm still single when you're old enough to be married, ask me that question again<br />
- i love your gangnam style dance, but right now it's time to read<br />
- please walk across the room and save gangnam style for recess<br />
- yes, you do gangnam style better than the korean dude <br />
- you don't need your wolverine claws during class<br />
- but seriously, put the wolverine claws away until recess<br />
- you might think you're Flash, but even Flash has to walk in the room and down the hall<br />
- by "silent", i didn't mean turn to your neighbor and start singing "let it go"<br />
- how do you know the song "black and yellow?" <br />
- let's choose a different word than this one (sh**) for the -it word family<br />
<br />
this is killing me, i gotta stop. first grade is adventure central. (and don't worry, i don't spend all day reprimanding my children... the reprimands just seem to have the funniest connotation). hazzahh!sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-49357798822328363062014-09-18T18:37:00.003-06:002014-09-18T18:37:38.863-06:00i lose children. the first day of school is full of procedures and rules, teaching kids how to be students in your class. i totally forgot how much my kiddies last year grew up. i left them as second graders and now i'm starting over with kindergarteners. AND IT SHOWS. oh my heavens it shows. i'm missing my class from last year much more than i thought i would. (which is one reason i go out to afternoon recess with my students, so i can play with last year's kids, heh heh, it's nice to have a fan club...) <div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
in first grade, one super intriguing moment is lunchtime. they don't get lunchtime at school in kindergarten. stepping into the multi-purpose room and walking down the hot lunch line is close to a disneyland experience for these little ones. who knew rubber hot dogs could be that exciting? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
so naturally, the first day, we talked about the lunch routine. i walked them through the lunch routine. we practiced walking down the hall to the lunchroom, where to sit, where to put their empty lunch bucket, and how to walk outside when they were done eating. all is well. right? right. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
we make it to the lunch room. everything is going smoothly, with many reminders about where to go and where to sit. it takes 15 minutes to get them all through the lunch line and type in their lunch pin numbers, but we make it ok. then suddenly the lunch bell is ringing and i'm outside to pick them up. if the routine stuck, they should be standing in a line waiting patiently, right? wrong. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
i'm missing 6 children. not one or 2. 6 CHILDREN. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
honestly i usually don't notice when i'm missing one or 2 because they end up trickling in, and it usually because they've been up on the upper field and needed more time to run down. (does that make me a bad teacher?) but 6 children?! so we stand there and wait a while, but no one is coming. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
quick decisions aren't my strong point, i like time to process and weigh all my options, but obviously don't have time for that right now. so i start asking around. has anyone seen _____? where is ______? no one knew. so i left my class (with high hopes that they wouldn't kill each other while i was away) to go looking for my kids. upper field empty. playground no one there. suddenly i see dark curly hair racing past me with a "hie hie" mimicking laugh. ooooh no he didn't. i ran. i ran to chase that little guy and firmly drug him back to the line. "i didn't want to come in when the bell rang, so i didn't" he replies. oh boy, it's going to be one of <i>these</i> years. one down 5 to go. no, 4 to go. someone showed up from behind the bushes. yes, the bushes. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
"maybe we should check the lunchroom?" one kid suggests. so i send him in. he finds one girl in there looking lost. the other 2 we never found, but by now 20 minutes have passed and the second grade bell has rung. so we went inside, me just hoping somehow someone made it back to the classroom without me. sure enough, there he was, waiting patiently in his seat. the last little guy though was no where to be found. we backtracked, talked about everywhere we think he might be. luckily the office called during our dilemma to tell us that he was found wandering the halls, hysterical that he didn't know where to go. poor little guy. an elementary school is pretty large when you're 6. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
we practiced lunch routine 5 more times that day. you can go to recess after you eat, kids. PLEASE go to recess after you eat. but please eat your lunch. your parents keep sending me concerned e-mails about you coming home with empty lunch boxes. argh. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
i wish i could say these were the least of my concerns, but sadly, this will be a year to remember in many other ways. you name it, i've got it in my class this year. i could write a novel after just 17 days of school, but i'll spare ya. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
the truth is, i love teaching. no matter how hard and impossible it may seem, i really do love it. no teacher has perfect classes every year. it's my turn to take the load, and hey, bring it on. (did i say that out loud? :-/) </div>
</div>
sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-67370111029945973662014-08-12T22:41:00.000-06:002014-08-12T22:49:12.623-06:00rumbios.i'm so mad right now. i had to pay for dinner tonight. <br />
<br />
i am babysitting my cousins kids this week (what ARE they called? second cousins? first cousins once removed? what are they removed from? help!) and today we took a little trip to the living planet aquarium. with the rest of the world. it's shark week, btw. should've checked that before we went. but anyway, we had free tickets and we went. and i'm not complaining because it was cool. especially these pink jellyfish that glow in the dark. say wha? <br />
<br />
the first thing we see is a shark bingo card that if you get blackout you can come back and get a prize. yay prize. we took a few. (let's not mention the fact that sara couldn't find the shark exhibit <i>anywhere</i> for like 2 hours... ha ha ha ha ha "it's coming up.. uh let's go see the otters first. oh look, south american adventure, you want to see the tree frogs, right?" *cough*) <br />
<br />
after wandering around forever we finally get to the shark tunnel and there's no exhibit signs! what kind of aquarium has no signs? little m kept asking me all day what the different fish were called and i had no clue. i'll admit i made some names up ha ha... "that one is, uh, 'bulging eye shark...'" (oops) totally digressing here. we filled out the dang bingo card and took it back to the prize table, where we got a little prize (and that plastic crab has caused its share of meltdowns this day, thanks) as well as a bookmark which gave us a free meal at rubio's. sweet. babysitter doesn't have to cook dinner, i'm in. closest rubio's 30 min. away. meh, it's only 4:30, it'll kill some time.<br />
<br />
we get to rubio's and walk in the door, so excited about our free dinner coming up. wait in line a good 10 min., order my 3 kids meals (yes, one for me too), then proudly hand the lady the bookmarks. she looks at me in disdain and says "these are for rubio's..." i was so confused... weren't we in rubio's?? i swear... oh wait, there's a sign... rumbi? what? how did this even happen? i was too embarrassed to admit i was in the wrong place, so i just paid for the kids meals and we ate at rumbi (not hating life, it was delish, as always).<br />
<br />
concerned, i pulled my phone back up and sure enough, it said we were sitting in rubio's at that moment. so weird. finally finished dinner (dinner takes so long when you're 3 and have a massive cheeseburger, btw) and walk outside to see rubio's just next door. we walked around to the other side to find the door because i was cashing in those free meals whether we were full or not! we couldn't find the front door!! we walked back to the other side where rumbi's door was and what do you know rubio's was right next to it. like RIGHT next to it. i took a picture but i'm totally too ashamed to post it because it was RIGHT there. i guess this made me feel a little better because i clearly saw rubio's and went to reach for the door but grabbed the wrong one. easy mistake. esp. when ushering small children along. <br />
<br />
walked into rubio's and ordered 3 kids meals (which i ate all by myself because the kiddies were full... paleo out the window today and i'm feelin' it :-/ ...but dang i forgot how much i love churros!) got back in the car and drove 30 minutes back to draper. <br />
<br />
still mad i had to pay for dinner. sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-91320678404198148972014-07-23T13:27:00.004-06:002014-07-23T13:37:26.443-06:00but one day it will be ok, right? <br />
i went to a tri-stake event the other night at the bees game. it was easily the worst night i've had in a <b>long</b> time. i was in great spirits when i showed up, but absolutely miserable when i left. there were redeeming moments, but overall, everything about attending a mormon singles event played out right in front of my face and reminded me <i>how much it stinks starting back at square one in the dating game. </i><br />
<br />
at a singles event, you find many types of men: <br />
<br />
<br />
- the too-cool-for-their-own-good ones that know they're good looking and crowd surf all night flirting with anything that has long hair and two legs<br />
<br />
- the nerdy ones that stick with their roommate on a row all by themselves and wait to be approached, but when they are approached, can't carry on a conversation yet somehow figure out a way to ask for your number anyway<br />
<br />
- the overly confident ones that say things like "you have gorgeous eyes, we should date" or "you're so attractive, we should be together". didn't know having pretty eyes was an indication that we would make a good couple...? <br />
<br />
- the awkwardly forward ones that ask for your last name just so they can facebook stalk you, and openly admit that they are going to facebook stalk you. i know we all do it, but there's an unwritten rule somewhere about admitting that out loud to the person you are doing it to, right? (there should be...) <br />
<br />
- the group from your own ward that you hardly talk with until you're at a stake event and suddenly you're best friends? it's a comfort thing, i guess.<br />
<br />
- that clingy one that seems to always find you no matter where you are or how much you try to avoid him <br />
<br />
- the ones that you wish would pay attention to you but you can't quite figure out how to make that happen<br />
<br />
- the completely decent and respectable ones that you love talking to and make a great night even better (i would prefer for my night to be full of interactions with these men.) <br />
<br />
<br />
and then, oh then... there are the previous love interests. i've decided that when you are avoiding more people than not at an event, that's a good indication it's time to move to a new ward. ha! (my problem, not theirs...) <br />
<br />
- there's the type that ignore you all together and act like you never knew each other (dude, we kissed 3 months ago, can we at least say hi...?)<br />
<br />
- the type that pretends to ignore you but you keeps making awkward eye contact all night <br />
<br />
- the type that ignores you all night then texts you after the event is over to see how you're doing <br />
<br />
- the type that overly exaggerates how much fun he's having with the new girl draped in his arms <br />
<br />
- the type that keeps loudly standing up to make sure you know where he is at at all times <br />
<br />
- the type that comes up to hug you and chat like nothing ever went wrong<br />
<br />
- the type that comes up to make a scene like you're long lost best friends when it was the worst breakup in the history of ever and in real life you never want to see him again <br />
<br />
- the type that broke up with you 36 hours previous and doesn't know how to act around you <br />
<br />
- the type that's married with a kid and living in another state, but you of course run into his favorite cousin who can't quite place how she knows you. when she figures it out, she proceeds to tell you the full update about how great he's doing and how happy he is, not realizing you're the girl he wrote off <br />
<br />
- the type you tried so hard for 6 months to date but he never had the decency to say he wasn't interested<br />
<br />
- the type that tried so hard to date you for 6 months and you never had the decency to say <i>you</i> weren't interested<br />
<br />
- the roommates and friends of all the above who sometimes don't know how to act and sometimes are just fine<br />
<br />
- the type that have moved on and past the awkward post-break-up phase and can carry on a normal, healthy conversation with you (i would prefer for my night to be full of interactions with these men as well)<br />
<br />
*sigh*. i am back in this game we call dating and monday happened to be a night where i ran into every single of the aforementioned types. <br />
<br />
no conclusion necessary. end rant. sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-88873868363233647952014-07-19T11:04:00.001-06:002014-07-19T11:04:32.622-06:00because of my faitha few conferences ago, bishop edgley gave a talk entitled <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2010/10/faith-the-choice-is-yours?lang=eng">"faith - the choice is yours". </a> during this talk, he made a list of a few things he did in his life as a result of his faith. when i was serving as a missionary in calgary, canada, i read this talk one morning and was struck by the profound nature of his list. i decided to do the same thing. i came across this list this morning. written december 10, 2010. it made me smile to think back on the experiences that had led me to that point in my life, and also think about some of these points that i haven't been as diligent about lately. here is that list: <br />
<br />
because of my faith:<br />
- i have heeded the call to serve a full-time mission in canada for the Lord for 18 months of my life<br />
- i pray with the hope that i will receive an answer in the Lord's time<br />
- i have made sacred covenants with the Lord in His holy temple<br />
- my back was completely healed in 2 weeks rather than 8 after my bad fall<br />
- i gained a testimony of the truthfulness of the book of mormon<br />
- i sent missionaries to visit my best friend then sent her a book or mormon<br />
- i bear my testimony with confidence, power, and conviction everyday<br />
- i trust that the Lord is making me who He wants me to be<br />
- the promises in my patriarchal blessing are being fulfilled daily<br />
- i left a piano performance scholarship and major to pursue elementary education<br />
- i pray every morning with assurance that i'm being heard<br />
- i follow the traditions of my parents and how they raised me<br />
- i pray for experiences to grow and lean everyday<br />
- i fast, because it is a commandment, even though i hate it<br />
- i am becoming comfortable with who i am and who i can become<br />
- i sat down at the piano again after a year of resentment<br />
- i made it through my first transfer as a missionary with a tough companion<br />
- i read my scriptures daily and attend church every week<br />
- i honor my parents and trust that they won't lead me astray<br />
- i perform temple work for those that have passed on<br />
- i remain worthy to hold a recommend<br />
- i focus on things i can change, and seek to do so<br />
- i've made the promise and commitment to never lose my faith<br />
- my testimony grows every single day, especially when i share it<br />
- i know i will live with my family forever<br />
- i access and use the atonement to change and improve<br />
- i have been able to forgive people who have deeply hurt me<br />
- i look forward to the future and try to enjoy the present<br />
- i strive to keep an eternal perspective and trust in the Lord<br />
- i accept Jesus Christ as my personal Savior and Redeemer<br />
- i take the sacrament each week and renew my baptismal covenant with the Lord<br />
- i try to do everything i am asked to do, even when i don't understand the reasons why<br />
- i set goals and consistently try to improve myself<br />
- i receive answers to my prayers and act on those answers<br />
<br />
there are many points i could add onto that list today. in reality, every single thing that happens in my life is somehow tied back to my faith. the best place to ground our faith is in our Savior, Jesus Christ. He is the rock. He is the way. He is the faith. sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-22146796414639693552014-06-09T18:49:00.001-06:002014-06-09T18:56:46.558-06:00175 days. 175 days of learning. that's what the past 9 months have been. on august 27, 2013, twenty-five wide-eyed 6-year-olds walked into my life. i was just as scared as they were (nope, probably more so). i remember how with trembling hands i tried to hold the story book still as i read to them and introduced myself as their new first grade teacher. i had <i>no</i> idea what to teach them. i had no idea how to be a teacher. we were definitely in for an adventure. and day-by-day, that's exactly what it was. <br />
<br />
the next 175 school days taught me so many things. how to be overly patient. how to tell them to sit down in 20 different phrases. how to tie 2 shoes at once. how to teach someone to read. how to explain why the hour hand is indeed the short hand and why we put our right hand on our hearts when we say the pledge. how to motivate a 7-year-old to pick up scraps off the floor. how to edu-tain 6-year-olds all day. how to wipe a snotty nose without getting snot on your hand. how to send a child to the bathroom without interrupting class. how to have eyes in the back of my head. how to teach the formation of letters. how to tactfully talk to parents. how to bite my tongue when i wanted to scream. how to find joy in every moment. how to love more than i've ever loved. <br />
<br />
they always say the first year of teaching is the hardest. i don't know that i agree... but i haven't experienced my second year yet. i really just couldn't have asked for a better group of kids to start this journey as a teacher. i don't know how long i'll be teaching, but i do know that i am in <b>the</b> perfect career. <br />
<br />
the last day of school was nothing short of difficult. i teared up a good 4 or 5 times throughout the day. when all my kids swarmed around me for a group hug at the end of the day, it was all i could do not to burst into tears. then the bell rang and they all left. they walked out of my room and onto the second grade. and the tears came. 3 students came running back in, sobbing, grabbing my waist and refusing to let go. i had to walk one to her car because she was so hysterical. got a text from a few other concerned moms saying their child was inconsolable after school. one mom said her daughter cuddled with her for 3 hours just whimpering, so sad to leave school. i guess you could say they liked me, ha ha. and hey, i loved them back. <br />
<br />
but, i will soon be replaced by a new favorite teacher. the little boys will develop a new crush. the girls will find someone new to tell their secrets to. but<i><b> i </b></i>will always remember my perfect first little class of first graders at canyon rim academy. to say they have changed my life would easily be an understatement. <br />
<br />
we had an end of year program where they proudly showed off some songs they have been learning this year. the highlight of my days is sitting at the piano with them and singing, teaching them new songs, singing old ones, and laughing together. i love when they make up their own words or add new phrases to the ends of the real ones. they are darling. the program was perfect, and i was just beaming at the piano for the full 30 minutes, moved by their darling smiles and reminiscing in my brain about all the hard and great times we've had this year. <br />
<br />
my heart has grown this year in ways i didn't imagine. one day into summer break and i'm already feeling sad from kid
withdrawal. walking into my empty classroom today made it worse. it might be a long summer, but will be a much needed break. here's to a magnificent 175 days, and let the countdown till august 26 begin! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINBulUlpTO59csAhMMyYZzwCqcTlCwFkH7f6-TUjyZtkkPU9UCX614sJXM7apy9A37RbyHZZgJFhoykpR2KnmFRtvuuRgTGZrrlXLmZbt5h1wRq6JxVGCM-vi_b25c5OHjjHzjqtdWq4/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-06-09+at+6.48.28+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiINBulUlpTO59csAhMMyYZzwCqcTlCwFkH7f6-TUjyZtkkPU9UCX614sJXM7apy9A37RbyHZZgJFhoykpR2KnmFRtvuuRgTGZrrlXLmZbt5h1wRq6JxVGCM-vi_b25c5OHjjHzjqtdWq4/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-06-09+at+6.48.28+PM.png" height="297" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
(sorry the picture is a little blurry... it was taken mid-group hug, and i was laughing soo hard!) sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-69774072773482408482014-05-29T16:15:00.003-06:002014-05-29T16:15:24.503-06:00dads have the keystudent whose parents are divorced: "my mom has two more eggs in her tummy but they are locked. they can only be unlocked when she gets married again. because dads have the key." ba ha ha ha. well put, well put. sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-45447604865366452592014-04-25T07:52:00.004-06:002014-04-25T07:52:53.041-06:00it is, though. <div style="text-align: center;">
the past 2 weeks have been one of those why-do-i-even-bother weeks. when it rains, it pours, right? sometimes i think i've figured this life thing out, only to be put back in my place. it can never go <i>too</i> good for <i>too</i> long, right? but the blessing of hard times is they remind us that: </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwjvtPvnIW0NTyP-dgkCpjY0wRzu8qAXqOBapcNhJziDtnFBVINJERhldCkipiYqnem9Py4dhaRihPG4v4oz5TEwOqZen_hQxakjp-eRPZQa4j2m-iobo8JzhiPgMyrkpeLLMPDdfGy8/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-04-25+at+7.47.10+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfwjvtPvnIW0NTyP-dgkCpjY0wRzu8qAXqOBapcNhJziDtnFBVINJERhldCkipiYqnem9Py4dhaRihPG4v4oz5TEwOqZen_hQxakjp-eRPZQa4j2m-iobo8JzhiPgMyrkpeLLMPDdfGy8/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-04-25+at+7.47.10+AM.png" height="200" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and it really is. in every sense of the word. because of the gospel of Jesus Christ, life is beautiful. </div>
sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-44753298461615414802014-04-20T10:05:00.003-06:002014-04-20T17:51:51.630-06:00the most beautiful truth i knowi've appreciated the church's initiative this easter season to reflect on the statement <a href="http://easter.mormon.org/?cid=HPTU041514694">"because of Him"</a>. because of Him... everything. i could fill in that blank with any righteous statement and it would be true. <br />
<br />
i
believe in Jesus Christ. i believe that He lived a great life and
performed miracles
and loved the people He served. i believe that He died for me to pay
the price
for my sins and provide the way back home. He also performed the
atonement so He would know how i feel at any given moment in my life,
which is a truth i have relied on every single day. but i've often
wondered how we come to <i>know</i> these things. in 1 nephi 15:14 it
says, "they shall come to a knowledge of their Redeemer and the very
points of His doctrine, that they may know how to come unto Him and be
saved." it's evident that we cannot be saved in ignorance. we have to know the Lord whom we serve and know how to follow Him. <br />
<br />
what kinds of things have to happen in our lives before we can saywith surety, <i>"i know Jesus Christ lives!" </i>what
challenges do we have to face, what triumphs do we have to enjoy, what
kind of commitment to the Lord do we have to give before that testimony
comes? <br />
<br />
well. today, this beautiful easter sunday, i am writing as a witness of Jesus Christ. i, sara michelle ence, <i>know</i> that Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world because of the following reasons:<br />
<i> </i><br />
<i> </i>- i feel peace enter my heart when i hear or sing the song "i stand all amazed"<br />
<br />
- there have been multiple days this year when i knew i couldn't pick
myself up off my bed and go throughout the simple tasks of the day. i
knelt in prayer and pleaded with Heavenly Father to be with me, and as i
stood, physically felt picked up and carried<br />
<br />
- my best friend annie flew here from california in december just to
come to church with me, after 6 years of invitations and dead ends<br />
<br />
- i have prayed about the book of mormon and gained a witness for myself
of its truth. the purpose of that book, the very intent it was
written, was to convince jew and gentile alike that Jesus is the
Christ. so because i know the book of mormon is true, i know that
Jesus Christ is my Savior. that book is packed with evidence you would have to be blind to not see<br />
<br />
- a mission companion and i felt inspired to change our plans and stop
by a certain house at a specific time, to discover we saved a woman from
suicide<br />
<br />
- i've sat across the desk from a loving bishop as he said the words,
"sister ence, you are forgiven of this sin" and literally felt a
tangible weight being taken off my shoulders, allowing a certain
happiness to flow back into my life<br />
<br />
- i watched bill maki give up everything he had and enter the waters of baptism for a God he didn't even know existed yet<br />
<br />
- i've sat in church and listened to heartfelt testimony from countless
members about the power of the atonement and the power of change and
conversion<br />
<br />
- i sat with president tingey on april 19, 2012 and heard him say the
words, "well done, thou good and faithful servant, the Lord has accepted
your service"<br />
<br />
- i felt a certain peace at the funeral of my uncle steve barlow,
knowing that although it seemed unfair that he was taken from this earth
when he was in the way that he was, that it was part of God's perfect
plan, and that we will indeed be with him again, forever<br />
<br />
- i walked into a temple this past friday seeking for comfort that the situation i was currently dealing with would be resolved the way it was supposed to be resolved. that the people involved would forgive me of the dumb mistakes i'd made that week. sitting in the temple for 3 hours, i felt time and time again the peace i was searching for. the problem wasn't solved, but i felt empowered and comforted. my prayer was answered. i love the temple <br />
<br />
- i watched the faces of my darling 6 year olds light up when i taught about christianity as part of our three world religions unit. "Jesus Christ died for my sins!" one would shout. "He loves me!" "i LOVE Jesus!" another would cheer. the faith of a child speaks volumes<br />
<br />
- i felt inspired to change my lesson just one hour before giving it to
the relief society when colin dumke bore an inspired testimony of the
power of righteous women in the world. with that inspiration to change
the lesson came the words to say in a time of need, and one of the most
powerful relief society lessons i've been a part of <br />
<br />
- - <br />
<br />
i could go on for hours listing specific reasons that have led me to the knowledge i have of Jesus Christ as my personal Savior. i testify that there are tangible evidences <i>all over</i> our lives that Jesus Christ lives, that He is intimately involved in the details of our lives. that <i>He cares. </i>i
invite each of you to open your eyes and see those evidences everyday.
open your eyes and stand in awe at the love Jesus offers you.<br />
<br />
He lives. and that is the most beautiful truth i know<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDLFfH_DT0rMR1OT4RXuG4oVaOp9Z1DNmwIq4ZZI0QO8ZY_qEWUAos-H_4NzPpHSGeOw6SD23SUf7NWNieU7Mn3BSA9JI2DA1x2wORD08sYf-T9FtjmNiMVzTjG9TYCFakWm0WiMOVRf4/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-04-20+at+10.05.07+AM.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDLFfH_DT0rMR1OT4RXuG4oVaOp9Z1DNmwIq4ZZI0QO8ZY_qEWUAos-H_4NzPpHSGeOw6SD23SUf7NWNieU7Mn3BSA9JI2DA1x2wORD08sYf-T9FtjmNiMVzTjG9TYCFakWm0WiMOVRf4/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-04-20+at+10.05.07+AM.png" height="378" width="400" /></a></div>
sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-9136809844294668042014-03-17T21:22:00.003-06:002014-03-17T21:22:56.265-06:00a leprechaun did this to me. today is st. patrick's day, which is a really big deal when you're 6. actually<i>, </i>anything is a really big deal when you're 6. i don't remember leprechauns being a large part of my st. patrick's days as a child, but times have changed, people. times have changed. <br />
<br />
last week, rumors of leprechaun sightings started floating around my classroom. one day, a convinced girl swore she saw 12 of them leaping in the grass at recess. i kept reminding them that leprechauns didn't come out until the big green day - the 17th. but that didn't dampen their aspirations. they wanted to use my supplies to construct all kinds of leprechaun traps. we even had a small incident with one of my little guys caught in the girl's bathroom "but madeline said the leprechaun was in there dancing on the toilet paper roll, miss ence, i just <i>had</i> to see for myself! wouldn't you?!" touche, little man, touche. <br />
<br />
so i caved and planned the ultimate leprechaun bash for school today. they showed up to a note on the board from good old lucky the leprechaun inviting them to come on a little hunt for some treasure. "i know this isn't miss ence's handwriting! she would be so mad at the leprechaun for his messy handwriting. there's NO way she wrote this." (bahahaha) this hunt took us all over the fields of the school, to the park down the way, to the church next door, around the school, to the playground, and back. it had us running laps, doing jumping jacks, and playing tag. <br />
<br />
when we got back, our room was pulverized (thank you mom!) "miss ence, did YOU do this?!" how could i... i was with you the whole time... ha. it was a real leprechaun, munchkins. a real, live leprechaun. "no, it must've been mr. chad!" (the janitor) yea... the janitor is going to pulverize a room that HE has to clean later. not so, tiny humans. not so. <br />
<br />
green easter grass everywhere (rookie mistake, rooookie mistake on the easter grass), crepe paper dangling from every corner, gold coins and little leprechaun footprints everywhere, another chastising note mocking us for being too slow and better luck next year, chairs were turned over, seats were switched, a pot of "gold" was hidden with all kinds of golden treats and lucky charms, he even left his hat! (which we were convinced mr. lucky would come back for... he had to, right?!) <br />
<br />
as they're eating the lucky charms and golden candy that mr. lucky left them, i put on some irish celtic music. 5 minutes in i hear tons of giggling. i look back to see my little red head dancing around the room with the silliest grin on his face, hand over his head, one on his hip, and doing the irish foot shuffle in circles. i was <b>dyyyyying </b>of laughter. kids are too dang funny! he shouts "miss ence! am i rocking this dance or what?!" and... he totally was. <br />
<br />
flash forward to after lunch recess. the playground duty comes in holding little boy that got caught in the girls' bathroom's leprechaun trap, trampled. "i think the leprechaun was angry that you tried to trap him, so he ruined your trap..." "it's ok," he says. "there's more where that came from! and this time, i'll trap him with GOLD. everyone knows leprechauns can't resist shiny things!!" are we feeding children lies everyday?! <br />
<br />
- - - <br />
<br />
{but probably my favorite thing about kids at this age is how convinced they are about things like leprechauns and the tooth fairy (to no fault of their own, we are totally the instigators...) <br />
<br />
"miss ence, i woke up and there was a leprechaun dancing on my head! my sister couldn't stop laughing and neither could i. that's why i peed my bed." <br />
<br />
"miss ence, i lost a tooth yesterday but the tooth fairy didn't come. my mom said she saw her flying outside and her wing was torn after hitting our tree, so she had to go to the tooth fairy hospital and would maybe come tonight if she was feeling better." <br />
<br />
"i saw my elf on the shelf wave to me this morning. and he winked at my sister last night." <br />
<br />
"well my elf on the shelf kept me up all night because he was running around on my ceiling laughing. that's why i'm pretty tired today." <br />
<br />
"i woke up this morning and my nails were painted green. a leprechaun did this to me."} <br />
- - - <br />
<br />
unfortunately i didn't think much past the initial messing up of the room. let's just talk about the easter grass again. it sticks to EVERYTHING. there was a long trail down the hall outside our room because it was stuck to everyone's clothes and shoes... oops... i made everyone pick up <b>400 things </b>off the floor before they left today. and it was still pretty messy. <br />
<br />
but do i regret the messy room, the fights over the gold coins, the tears over the poor mr. lucky that will never have his hat again, the almost allergic reaction to the pistachio pudding science experiment, the green crepe paper accessories or sword fights, the hyped-up-on-sugar children, the easter grass eternally stuck to all my clothes? <b>no. </b>not in the least. <br />
<br />
today was the perfect day in first grade. the kind of day where everyone is laughing and working together for a common good. even if that "good" is finding a make-believe man with orange hair and a fake pot of gold. <br />
<br />
i really just love first grade. i mean, when else can you wear ridiculous hair pieces like this at age 24 and get away with it?! <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKme8figlaHsh_c8gvMZfFXpIesh7HiWX-9tTaMHkn8lF4XFTFqMkSF3fdJ_nKgRuabLNbnkPCH6zP_4F4lbGHGfQN9HSugOW844W3J4Z90xnN-RsWBQ1ZMAjY_LunQfH19x_hP15Cv6s/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-17+at+9.22.05+PM.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKme8figlaHsh_c8gvMZfFXpIesh7HiWX-9tTaMHkn8lF4XFTFqMkSF3fdJ_nKgRuabLNbnkPCH6zP_4F4lbGHGfQN9HSugOW844W3J4Z90xnN-RsWBQ1ZMAjY_LunQfH19x_hP15Cv6s/s1600/Screen+shot+2014-03-17+at+9.22.05+PM.png" height="320" width="201" /></a></div>
<br />sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-3406437507961392002014-02-28T23:30:00.001-07:002014-02-28T23:39:46.230-07:00case closed. today's dating story is brought to you by the letter g. g for giraffe, that is. giraffe meaning that's how i feel sometimes when guys that are <i>clearly</i> much shorter than me ask me out. does that not bother short boys that their date is a foot taller?! i've spent much of the last decade of my life pondering this question. and i, ladies and gentleman, finally have an answer. <br />
<br />
to tell this story, i have to admit something embarrassing. i am once again a tinder user. now that we got that out of the way... <br />
<br />
last week i matched with someone we'll call jack. he starts the conversation, "you're really cute, sara". flattering, i suppose. me, being the skeptical realist that i am, respond with, "really though, how many girls have you started a conversation with with that line, eh?" to which he responds, "only the really cute ones." ok, cheese factor 100, i'm out. goodbye.<br />
<br />
10 minutes later i get a text from a dear friend asking how the tinder scene is going (just got her to join again the few days prior...heh heh). i respond with the cute little story about the encounter jack and i had just had. to which she replies that a guy had started a conversation the same way with her. you know what's coming next... it was the same guy. (would my life be anything different, come on) <br />
<br />
so i just HAD to call him out on it. i got back on and responded to our friend jack, "you matched with one of my best friends and started the conversation the same way with her." to which he replied,"oh, you're the only 2 though." obviously not as embarrassed as i hoped he would be. i know he's lying because he had to ask which girl was my best friend. ok. transparent. and brazilian. (no really though, he's from brazil) <br />
<br />
my mistake, we start chatting back and forth and through the course of the conversation he finds out that i <b>love</b> the movie the aristocats. he says (not joking, these are the words he used) "sara, i think we need to watch that movie together and make a memory together." ok... sure... i have an open evening in...oh wait, never. <br />
<br />
i put off that proposal for a while. and good thing because things kept getting creepier. you see, our friend jack here, he's from another country, just lurking to find an american wife to take home ("don't worry, my family will love you, they love tall blonde americans" ...thanks, that's so reassuring...) <br />
<br />
so i ask how tall he is. 5'8. one inch shorter than me. doesn't sound like a huge difference, but for me it is. call it shallow, call it what you may, but that's my number one thing... i <i>need</i> to be with someone significantly taller than me, for my own confidence's sake. (watch, now that i've posted that i'll marry someone that's 5'0. just my luck) <br />
<br />
the next 20 minutes of my life were spent reading message after message to convince me to date a short boy. my case is closed. the decade long question has finally been resolved. again, people, these are real live quotes that came out of this boy's mouth (or i guess fingers, ha ha)<br />
<br />
eh-hem. this is why short guys want to date tall women: <br />
<br />
1. "let's say we're walking down the street and i decide to j-walk. i can grab your hand and you can keep up with me. if you had short, stubby legs, you would fall behind, get hit by a car, and die. since you have long and lanky ones, you'll make it across safely with me."<br />
<br />
2. "hand holding is perfect with a tall girl because you're both the same length of arm away from each other."<br />
<br />
(can we please keep in mind i've "known" this boy for 45 minutes by this point?!)<br />
<br />
3. "then think about kissing. so nice to kiss a taller girl because my neck doesn't get tired from leaning over."<br />
<br />
4. "cuddling is nice too because it can be reciprocated."<br />
<br />
5. "and think about our children..."<br />
<br />
gag. i don't want to think about <b>our</b> children. i don't want to even think about my own children, let alone children with you, brazilian stranger whom i've exchanged meaningless tinder messages with for 50 minutes. safe to say i stopped responding. but he. kept. sending. messages.<br />
<br />
the next day, he messages me in the middle of the day asking if anything is wrong and why i haven't responded and if his reasons were logical. so i just told him, "ya know i'm looking for someone significantly taller than me, sorry. good luck with everything!" and blocked him (one thing i like about tinder, easy out!) <br />
<br />
not 5 minutes later, my friend texted me and asked what went down with jack... because <b>he messaged her</b> and asked her what was wrong and why i was being weird and telling her he thought we had such great chemistry, etc. bleck. <br />
<br />
i already knew tinder was full of a significant amount of creepers... but this was my first encounter with one. thank goodness for that block button... and thank goodness that jack solved the mystery of why short boys like tall girls<br />
<br />
...just think about our children... <br />
sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4276004960692090610.post-49702918104215319392014-02-19T17:32:00.000-07:002014-02-19T17:41:34.960-07:00ghost in the stallsin my school, my dearly beloved school, there is ONE faculty bathroom. it's located in the most logical place, by the office, in the middle hub of the "u" shape... but for us first grade teachers on the outermost arm of the "u", it can be inconvenient, especially in the middle of the day quick bathroom break. <br />
<br />
today i <em>really</em> had to go. we're talking i drank 3 water bottles worth in about 3 hours had to go. i had just dropped my kids off at lunch and didn't really want to make the trek all the way back to the office to use the facilities. so, i used the kid bathroom across the hall from my classroom. it's no big deal, really, i use it all the time after hours because it's more convenient. besides, everyone was at lunch and hadn't had much time at recess to realize they needed to go yet. <br />
<br />
every time i walk in, though, i have this fear that a student will be in there. i mean, did you ever see a teacher in the kid bathroom when you were in elementary? not only is it embarrassing, but it's just plain weird. i always think in my head what i will say if i see a kid, like, "oh, is so and so in here? no, ok..." then walk back out. this time was no exception. i was prepared to pull out a line. <br />
<br />
but i got in there and no one was there. so i park myself in a stall and start doing my business when to my horror the door opens and not one, not 2, but THREE second graders come in and occupy the stalls next to me. "i hope they don't recognize my shoes" i think to myself. <br />
<br />
so i finish up and now I'm in a predicament. my choices are: 1. pretend like this is totally normal and stand up, at which point my head will be cascading over the stall that is meant for 8 year olds 2. cautiously lift my feet above the ground so no one will actually see i'm in there 3. wait until all 3 girls have vacated the premises before i leave. <br />
<br />
i decide option #3 is probably my best choice. so i wait. and wait. and wait. one girl leaves. the second leaves. the third doesn't leave foreverrrrrr. and when she gets out of the stall, she looks my way and i realize the space between the stall wall and the door is just big enough to make eye contact. and that's exactly what we did. made eye contact. she giggled and ran outside. <br />
<br />
"oh no," i think. she totally saw me and knows that i'm the teacher that used the kid bathroom. cool points down the drain. i was even so self conscious about this that i waited for a good 2 minutes until after she left just in case... then snuck out of the stall and to wash my hands. <br />
<br />
when would you know it the door opened again. "miss ence?! what are you doing in here?!" the surprised munchkin exclaimed. after all that practice of a good line, i had no words. so i just ignored her and walked out ha ha ha. slunk back to my classroom. <br />
<br />
the poor girl was probably horrified. i still remember the time mrs. johnson used the kid bathroom in second grade and i never went in that stall again. kids are funny that way. <br />
<br />
will i use the kid bathroom again? probably. and maybe, just maybe, i'll pull<strong> <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cZO9tMetxno">this trick</a></strong> next time.<br />
sara michellehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16872844788077499698noreply@blogger.com0