LOVE DEFINED

Right now I'm in a persuasive writing class. We've had to do an essay every week, and sometimes the topic is kind of obscure. Today's was, "What is art?"  Defining something like that is always hard, because it's so subjective. In one person's mind, art may be anything that embodies a feeling. Someone else believes art is anything that is created. Another person may see art in a completely different way.

It got me thinking, though, about how to define other things that may seem hard to define. Since I'm recently engaged, I've been thinking about how to define love.

Love is wonderful (in my own very small experience of loving someone -- I know I'm no expert). When you love someone, you care for them more than you care about yourself. Love is patient, and kind, and selfless. I have found myself caring more about Michael than I ever have about myself.  I want him to be happy. I want him to be healthy. I want him to do well. I feel joy when he succeeds. When he laughs, I feel like my heart is going to explode.

Love can also be terrifying. It's a scary thing to give yourself to someone; there are so many things that make up me, and I'm not proud of a lot of them. At first, I never wanted Michael to see my weaknesses and shortcomings, because I was afraid it would change his opinion of me. I wanted to be perfect in his eyes. But guess what? That's not what love is... at least, that's not what I think it is. Love is seeing and knowing the weaknesses, and looking past them to see someone's potential. Love is helping each other overcome mistakes and shortcomings. True love is extremely Christlike.

I will probably never love perfectly, at least not in this life. But I hope to continue learning about love with Michael. We are only beginning our journey of loving each other, but I am completely in awe of what I've learned in the past few months.

74 more days until forever begins. I can't wait.

FOURTEEN YEARS AGO TODAY

"Where were you when the world stopped turning that September day?
Out in the yard with your wife and children, workin' on some stage in LA?
Did you stand there in shock at the sight of that black smoke rising against that blue sky?
Did you shout out in anger and fear for your neighbor or did you just sit down and cry?

Did you weep for the children who lost their dear loved ones or pray for the ones who don't know?
Did you rejoice for the people who walked from the rubble and sob for the ones left below?
Did you burst out in pride for the red, white, and blue and the heroes who died just doing what they do?
Did you look up to Heaven for some kind of answer, and look at yourself and what really matters?

I'm just a singer of simple songs, I'm not a real political man
I watch CNN but I'm not sure I could tell you the difference in Iraq and Iran
But I know Jesus and I talk to God and I remember this from when I was young
Faith, hope and love are some good things He gave us
And the greatest is love...

Where were you when the world stopped turning, on that September day?"  --Alan Jackson

I was eight years old when 9/11 happened and changed the world's history. I remember that day in snapshots: small moments and memories that seem to be ingrained in my mind forever, like a camera roll. 

I remember the TV turned to the news and my mom crying. She wondered whether or not to send us to school. I saw smoke, two towers, and a lot of confusion. I didn't quite understand what was going on.

I remember going to school. Mrs. Smith was wearing a yellow shirt and olive green pants. She was also crying. I felt sad, but didn't really know why.

I remember Mr. Horner, the principal, telling us all over the intercom what had happened. When he was finished, Mrs. Smith cleared up any confusion we were feeling. I felt a reverent dread come over me. Reverence for the people who had died, and their families. Dread for what might happen in the future, and what had already happened.

I remember standing up to recite the Pledge of Allegiance and really feeling the power of the words for the first time that I could remember. 

I pledge allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America, and to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. 

In that moment, in my little eight-year-old mind, I felt so proud to be an American. I felt honor and respect and love for my country that represents so much. I felt, in the words of the song that we all know so well, that I would "proudly stand up next to you, and defend Her still today, 'cause there ain't no doubt I love this land. God bless the USA!" 

We are still one Nation under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all. What makes it so special, I’m convinced, is the love that we have in our hearts for freedom, bravery, patriotism, loyalty, and every other good thing that we stand for. . . in America, and across the world.

Thank you to the men and women who died, and still die, fighting for our freedoms.

9/11 -- I will never forget. 

A NOVICE RUNNER'S THOUGHTS

I think when I started training for my marathon, I thought sure, a marathon. It'll be hard but it'll be awesome! 26.2 miles? Sheesh, I've run 13 before! Just 13 more, what's the big deal? 

I'm sure it's not news to anyone else, but running that far is, in fact, a very, very big deal.

Michael and I did 14 miles last Monday.  It was pouring rain, and almost the whole time I couldn't wipe a smile off my face.  (Not that you can tell from this picture.  I was trying to look fierce but it failed...) It's quite an accomplishment to say that my legs carried me that far.  My legs, my lungs, my heart, my arms...  they all carried me that far.  When we were done I felt like I could take on the world!  Anything I put my mind to! 

Yesterday I did 16.  SIXTEEN.  One-six.  S I X T E E N  M I L E S ! 

We finished the run (the last 5 of those 16 miles being absolute torture) and I was full of so much emotion that I just broke down and cried.  I was so utterly exhausted I couldn't even close my mouth to somewhat contain the sobs.  They just spilled out -- ugly, loud, panting, relief-filled, emotional, wrenching sobs.  I have never run that far in my entire life!  I wish I could capture the feeling in words.  Nothing quite describes that feeling of joy, pain, relief, and accomplishment.

Running is addicting because runner's high is real.  When I think about running that far again, I am half filled with dread, half filled with ecstatic, anxious excitement.  Our bodies and minds really are amazing.  Even though it's incredibly hard, WE CAN DO HARD THINGS.  We were meant to do hard things.  We were not meant to be couch potatoes.  We were meant to move, and fly, and run, and sing, and DO.

Here's to the next month and a half of marathon training!

WHO AM I?

....24601!

Kidding.  Did I make you smile?

I just listened to this talk from 1962.  That seems like an eternity ago to me, even though to others perhaps it feels just like yesterday.  Time is strange that way.

The talk was about getting to know yourself and thinking about what you hold most dear.  We need to spend some time getting acquainted with ourselves and find out what matters most to us.  In today's world, with so much hubbub and the ever-present distractions of Netflix, Facebook, YouTube, iPhones, Twitter, Instagram, iTunes, Spotify... (I could go on, but you get it)... we hardly ever spend time sitting, pondering, and wondering at the many different aspects that make up the person we are.

So I've spent some time sitting today.  Pondering.  Wondering inwardly at myself, who I am, and the things I care about.

Who am I?

I am a person that loves the sunshine, because it brings hope and warmth and happiness.  In the sunlight, the world is bright and alive.

I am a person that loves poetry, because of the wonderful way poets capture a feeling on paper.

I am someone that loves a good view, because of the way it fills me with wonder.

I am a person that wants to be close to other people -- relationships matter to me, and I love learning about someone and what's important to them.

I am someone that loves deeply, and laughs freely, and is never afraid to write about my feelings, but is sometimes afraid to say them aloud.

I am someone that knows God and Jesus Christ are real people, and because They are real, and because They love me, I have second chances for all of the silly mistakes I make (because I make a lot).

Who are you? 

THE PLACE I FEEL AT HOME

Happy Sunday!  I am feeling so incredibly grateful for temples today.

{And for those of you that don't know much about Mormon temples, you can click here to find out more!}

I have been a temple worker in Provo for the past 6 months.  I had to quit a few months ago because of my work schedule.  I miss it.  Every Wednesday, I would wake up at 5:30 to be there by 6:15.  (And if you know me, you know how much I dislike mornings.  I thought my mission would cure me of that but it didn't really.) One particular morning, I was SO close to going back to bed and telling my coordinator I couldn't make it.  I was just too tired.  It was just too early.  But, remembering my new motto to do hard things, I went.  On this particularly hard morning, an older woman dressed in white leaned over to me while I was helping her, and whispered, "Thank you for being here this morning so I could be."

I FELT SO GUILTY AND SO GOOD AT THE SAME TIME.

It is such a treat and privilege to serve in the temple.  I'm so glad I went when I was exhausted.  It was so worth it, just for that sweet comment.

“And they had all things common among them; therefore there were not rich and poor, bond and free, but they were all made free, and partakers of the heavenly gift.” (4 Nephi 1:3)

There are many things that I still do not understand about the temple, and many concepts and symbols that I will probably never fully grasp.

However, one thing I have learned about is equality and commonality in the temple. Once inside, everyone changes into simple, white clothing. Everyone truly has “all things common among them” — including dress. There is no one more privileged than the other. All who enter the temple do so to make covenants (or sacred promises) with God. If they are not there for themselves, they are doing work for the dead; serving those that have already passed on and making available those covenants they could not make while they were on the earth.

Rich and poor class does not matter in the temple, nor can anyone tell. There is no bond and free; instead, as this scripture so beautifully and poetically describes, everyone is made free.

I have heard a lot of people say that the commandments and covenants we make restrict us. In reality, I think they free us. When our judgment isn’t clouded by physical appetites — sex, drugs, alcohol, money (just to name a few) — we are able to be true to ourselves. God created us to be free. He gave us the gift of our agency. To me, that is a heavenly gift indeed. I love the ability to choose for myself to obey God’s commandments. Going to the temple isn’t something I feel forced to do because I’ve made covenants there. It is a place I feel drawn to because I receive answers there. It is truly God’s house, somewhere I will always feel clean, pure, having all things in common with those around me, beautiful, and free.

LIFE & RAIN

Sometimes I get a huge urge to write...  and I don't even know what I want to write about.  I heard once that writing is taking all the emotions in your heart/brain and putting them on paper in the form of words.

So, here goes. 

It's been raining a lot lately.  It pit-patters down and makes me remember Hong Kong.  It doesn't rain here like it does there.  In fact, a lot of people would argue that we've seen some pretty good rainstorms in the past few weeks.

No no no.

Utah doesn't know a "pretty good rainstorm".  Pretty good rainstorm means that you can't go outside for one second without getting soaked to the bone.  Pretty good rainstorm = upturned umbrellas and no more makeup and puddles and Crocs and everything inside your purse is wet.

Before, the rain made me sad and depressed.

Today, I couldn't be more happy.  Rather than feeling like the sky is crying, I feel like it's so happy it just burst and a million little drops of happiness is spilling onto the ground and covering us all.  Maybe it's because I've been really happy in life lately.  I moved into a really great apartment with super awesome roommates and an incredible ward, and I guess what I'm saying is life is really, really good right now.

Probably because:

Parker got his mission call to Argentina. I mean, he broke the Asian trend in our family, so we're a little mad, but mostly SUPER stoked for him ;)

I tried Waffle Love for the first time and almost died because it was so good.

We got to Skype this little cutie in Japan!!! I MISS HER SO MUCH.

We had mission reunion...

...after mission reunion at my old comp's wedding. SO FUN!

Aaaaand, the Payson temple open house was probably the best, prettiest, most grand and beautiful thing I've ever seen.  If you haven't gone, YOU NEED TO GO. It ends this week! 

What I'm saying is, although I didn't used to like the rain, it's making me change my perspective.  Life doesn't have to be perfect to be absolutely wonderful.  We don't need everything to be happy.  So if it rains on our parade, why don't we just smile and parade on? 

READY TO FLY

I've been doing a lot of thinking lately about comfort zones.

It's easy for us, as humankind, to stay as we are.  It's comfortable, easy, no effort required.  We can float (instead of kicking our legs) and calmly and easily make it through life.

And yet how fulfilling is that?

I've been craving hard things lately.  I've felt stagnant for the past few months and it's really bothered me.  I want to push myself to my limits and see where my potential really is.  I want to see what is out there for me!  I want to chase my dreams and throw caution to the wind and stretch and grow and feel passionately about the things I'm doing.  I yearn to feel success and achievement.

So what am I doing?

I am going to run a marathon in September.  A full on, 26.2 miles.  It scares the heebie jeebies out of me.  But I want to do it precisely because it scares me.

I am also starting as a Cantonese teacher at the Missionary Training Center.  That also completely freaks me out.  It's going to be an exhausting, tiring, inspiring, mind-boggling, energy-requiring job. One that will humble me a lot and hopefully help me grow.

Before, I never really liked the saying "do something every day that scares you."  That sentence alone scared me.  Now, I'm ready to jump in head-first!  I want to chase my passions and dreams.  I'm finally understanding this:

I don't want to confine myself anymore.  God gave me wings, and I want to fly!