Sometimes I leave work frustrated. Sometimes I leave work angry. Sometimes I leave work stiffled. Sometimes I leave work depressed.
Often I wonder why I'm still here. Often I wonder why I don't have the courage to go elsewhere. Often I wonder why I've devoted so much to just a job. Often I wonder why I can't get out of this rut.
Many times, I realize it's because at the end of the day... I have learned something. I'm still challenged. And I will continue to learn.
Learning is an interesting concept. We study our whole lives.. from that time when we're learning how to use the toilet instead of relying on our comfortable diapers to the time we attempt to learn more vocabulary for a good SAT score to increase the chances of acceptance into that dream school to those times we still struggle to learn about the opposite sex and what they are thinking.
We learn everyday. Sometimes.. our learning suffocates a bit and we falter when it seems we don't acquire much skills of substance, but there's always something to be taken away. One of my favorite comebacks when things go sour is... well, lesson learned!
When it comes to the Gospel, I often wish I had begun earlier. There's so much to learn that time never seems enough. My initial goal was to read the Book of Mormon before getting baptized and unfortunately, I only made it about 52%. I've taken a new approach to my scripture studying, set well defined, reasonable and measurable goals for myself but no matter how much I plan and study, I keep hoping for more time.
Other things are not so easy to learn. The Mormon culture is something that I'm learning more about everyday. Not having had the opportunity to participate in primary as a kid or seminary as a teen, I am finding alternative ways to learn not only the book stuff but the cultural stuff as well - whether it's constantly asking others of their own experiences, memorizing the Articles of Faith like a kid in primary (minus the musical assistance or puzzle quizzing experiences), starting my own scripture mastery or asking for a layered jello and funeral potatoe recipe (which by the way, I still have not gotten from anyone).
When it comes to gaining knowledge of the Gospel, I'm so grateful for all the support everyone has provided me because studying and learning, like many things in life, is a two way street, but unlike so many other things, it's an optional two way street that often runs better one way. Because unlike a relationship, you can learn on your own. Of course, it's always more fun to teach others and learn from others... so why not just be more generous and make it a two way street?!
I might not have a lot to offer when it comes to scripture study, but I might have useless information about how to dress for work, how to have table manners, how to network with strangers or how to apply make-up if you're asian. And lately, I've become obsessed with sharing such information through the use of this website, www.learningzen.com which enables you to make your own online courses. Now as much as this might sound like a shameless plug to sell for the website and to get you to access it (I hear there's a rad Etiquette for Dummies and Modesty Course), it's really just another internet past time that can actually achieve results!
Instead of facebook stalking, you can create a course about some useless information you have that in turn, is actually useful for someone else. Call me a dork - but I had more fun creating my online course than I do populating a budget to actual analysis for work. Call my BFF a dork - but she's already signed up and can't wait to make a course about all the useless (to her) medical information she's accumulated over the past 5 years which will be so extraordinarily useful to someone like me, who picks her health plan based on what sounds better and is too lazy to change it now. Call us dorks, but it's pretty fun. Check it out and let me know if you learn something today.
Until then.. I will continue to learn and put that armor on. I'm shielded... are you?
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Yet Another Glimpse (Part 2 of 2)
Yes, I just pageanated my blog entry.
So Saturay morning began with us joining the local Ward BBQ which was set up like a block party. It was so nice to meet all the friendly neighborhood locals up and about so early, sniff the fresh aroma of the homemade sausages, eggs, bacon and pancakes, hear the cackling of pop rocks on the floor, feel the love, joy and friedship among everyone, and witness the beautiful arrangements of red, white and blue adorned everywhere - in flowers, in place settings, in flags, etc! Sky and I were the newbies and were approached by many who didn't recognize us. These strangers... all quickly became our friends.
It's always refreshing to meet new faces, but it's the sharing of conversion stories that I always love the most. This seemed to be triggered in many who met Sky and I as the news that we were recent converts (Sky having been baptized for a week and myself for three) reenergized and reminded everyone of their own personal stories. Why, you may ask? Well, it's not just "converts" who have conversion stories - even those who grow up in the Church have to pray to know for themselves and decide whether or not to accept the Gospel, even if they've been given it their whole lives.
The story that touched me most was a gentleman who got my attention because of his crazy "You Know You're American If..." t-shirt. We started to talk and upon hearing Sky and I had just gotten baptized, he told us about his own story. His first wife had passed away and she was LDS. He hadn't given the religion much thought prior to her death. Subsequently, he picked up a Book of Mormon and never put it down since. As he told us his story, he held back from crying and it pained my heart to hear of such a story that was so tragic and terrific, all at once.
That afternoon, we ventured to Provo to ride the tubes down the Provo River. As we picked up more folks to join us for the adventure, I looked back at my own trips down to Provo for ballroom dance camp two summers in a row when I was in college. I wondered why nobody had offered me a Book of Mormon then, or why nobody had sought to talk more about their beliefs with me. But then I realized, I hadn't asked much. I knew about the honor code and I knew our night time activities consisted of the Malt Shoppe or the BYU Creamery, but much more than that? ... not a clue.
Would I have been ready? Probably not. Would I have listened? Probably not. Would I have read? Definitely not. Would I have prayed? Definitely not. But knowing what I know now,... it's hard not to wish just maybe... maybe someone would have tried to shared...
The river was cold but bearable. The current was calm at some times and horrific at others. It wasn't until I got a bridge area when I realized ... uh-oh! How would we get into those entry ways, separated by the base, much like four arches... without bumping into the arches?! Apparently, I knew not... because I crashed into the side, flipped over and lost my tube. In a frenzy to get back in, I retreated to my youth, sitting inside the tube instead of on top. The water was moving too quickly, the stones at the bottom of the river hit my every step and I could not fathom a way out. I struggled, laughing in between each attempt to lift myself out and realized, my legs are too long... why are my legs so long?! My knees got stuck in the hole which seemed tiny by comparison to the room I needed to lift my knees up! Everyone was supporting me and I wanted to get out... but it seemed useless. Helpless, I almost gave up and thought about floating down the river with my legs inside the now miserable and paralyzing cold river. And then, to my own surprise, with the help of Erika's encouragement and presence right next to me, holding onto my tube as I hopped over, I was back on! Lesson learned.. don't give up so easily or you might die. Okay.. maybe no need to over-exaggerate - but it would have been so easy to give up and deal with the consequential cold - or, persevere and reap the rewards (in this case.. not being numb waist down). What's even funnier is how I thought this would be the toughest part. Boy, was I proven wrong ... once we got off, without shoes, we had to truck our way over tiny stones, evily scattered on the river edge. Ouch. I'm so glad someone invented shoes but so sad I didn't have any at that point. Nevertheless, the adventure was worth it and was overall, fun and enjoyable. Stupendous, I say!
I did miss my family and friends. Though we didn't have any huge plans this year and everyone went their own ways, I did a round of calls that afternoon. I was able to reach some, left messages for others, and felt melancholy all around. There's no denying the fact that people grow up and grow apart but we still hold onto those memories from the past, the ones that make us laugh and smile fondly, but confronting such change is often difficult. It's important to acknowledge such realities and not meander about the past too long. Things change... we change... but as long as it's for the better... we should be okay.
What would the Fourth of July be without a BBQ? So BBQ we did, tucked away in the mountains, we gathered with Andy's family and friends and so much amazing food. Now whenever I am in an environment with mostly LDS folks, I always compare and contrast with my own experiences with family and friends. The only difference I really witness? Alcohol. As for family events, the difference is minimal because despite having alcohol present at every family outing, it's just a beverage option. Nobody is getting tossed, nobody is getting loud or obnoxious and nobody is even discernably drunk. The friend situations vary. Some BBQs (like our Fourth of July last year) is beyond crazy while some BBQs (Julia and Eric's famous delightful yummy ones) are more tame. It seems to fluctuate based on the time of year, group of friends, everyone's mood, and the amount of free flowing alcohol available.
We finished the night with some fireworks but upon laying in bed at night, Sky and I couldn't sleep. We talked on and on, about the changes we were experiencing, the fun we were having and it was there, I told Sky ... I think I want to bear my testimony tomorrow. I knew Sky was already planning to do so but I wasn't ready to stand in front of strangers. Furthermore, I wasn't even sure what I would say. I remember a friend telling me a testimony wasn't a conversion story. It should be simple.. that you have a testimony, that you believe, that you know. I would aim to do just that, but boy was I nervous. After deciding to go up together, we reverted back to our girl talk and giddily, Sky told me about some guy and the last I remember was asking her what she liked about him before drifting off.
We began Sunday morning with a visit to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir with a special presentation at the Confererence Center. And much to my joy, they sang "You're a Grand Ol' Flag" - a favorite of Grace and mine since we were kids and a constant in my weekend as we sang it often and I even called Grace and left a message with us singing it to which .. she returned a call singing it as well!
We went to Andy's family ward that morning. Having started my journey at a family ward, I'm always really excited to go back to them! But this time... I was a ball or nerves at the prospect of bearing my testimony. I'm not sure if I was prompted to by something greater than myself, but I wanted to do it .. I just wasn't sure if I could!
I'm used to speaking in front of people. I was a speech dork in high school, I was a student rep who had to speak up during meetings with the Board of Trustees in college (or they'd strip us of our student rights!) and I've been destined to teach multiple training classes ranging from 15 to 60 participants for the majority of June... So why was the idea of bearing this simple testimony at Church so frightening? I'm really not sure.. but it was! My legs were shaking and I'm glad there was a podium to hide the jitters, and I shifted my weight back and forth so the bishopric wouldn't notice.
I don't even remember exactly what I said. I just know it felt right and the most important part was that I testify of God, of Jesus Christ, of Joseph Smith and of the restored Church.
p.s. It also wasn't as bad as I thought it would be ... although I did trip on a word once or twice. Word vomit... tastes so good, yum yum! Oh well, no pain .. no gain.
So Saturay morning began with us joining the local Ward BBQ which was set up like a block party. It was so nice to meet all the friendly neighborhood locals up and about so early, sniff the fresh aroma of the homemade sausages, eggs, bacon and pancakes, hear the cackling of pop rocks on the floor, feel the love, joy and friedship among everyone, and witness the beautiful arrangements of red, white and blue adorned everywhere - in flowers, in place settings, in flags, etc! Sky and I were the newbies and were approached by many who didn't recognize us. These strangers... all quickly became our friends.
It's always refreshing to meet new faces, but it's the sharing of conversion stories that I always love the most. This seemed to be triggered in many who met Sky and I as the news that we were recent converts (Sky having been baptized for a week and myself for three) reenergized and reminded everyone of their own personal stories. Why, you may ask? Well, it's not just "converts" who have conversion stories - even those who grow up in the Church have to pray to know for themselves and decide whether or not to accept the Gospel, even if they've been given it their whole lives.
The story that touched me most was a gentleman who got my attention because of his crazy "You Know You're American If..." t-shirt. We started to talk and upon hearing Sky and I had just gotten baptized, he told us about his own story. His first wife had passed away and she was LDS. He hadn't given the religion much thought prior to her death. Subsequently, he picked up a Book of Mormon and never put it down since. As he told us his story, he held back from crying and it pained my heart to hear of such a story that was so tragic and terrific, all at once.
That afternoon, we ventured to Provo to ride the tubes down the Provo River. As we picked up more folks to join us for the adventure, I looked back at my own trips down to Provo for ballroom dance camp two summers in a row when I was in college. I wondered why nobody had offered me a Book of Mormon then, or why nobody had sought to talk more about their beliefs with me. But then I realized, I hadn't asked much. I knew about the honor code and I knew our night time activities consisted of the Malt Shoppe or the BYU Creamery, but much more than that? ... not a clue.
Would I have been ready? Probably not. Would I have listened? Probably not. Would I have read? Definitely not. Would I have prayed? Definitely not. But knowing what I know now,... it's hard not to wish just maybe... maybe someone would have tried to shared...
The river was cold but bearable. The current was calm at some times and horrific at others. It wasn't until I got a bridge area when I realized ... uh-oh! How would we get into those entry ways, separated by the base, much like four arches... without bumping into the arches?! Apparently, I knew not... because I crashed into the side, flipped over and lost my tube. In a frenzy to get back in, I retreated to my youth, sitting inside the tube instead of on top. The water was moving too quickly, the stones at the bottom of the river hit my every step and I could not fathom a way out. I struggled, laughing in between each attempt to lift myself out and realized, my legs are too long... why are my legs so long?! My knees got stuck in the hole which seemed tiny by comparison to the room I needed to lift my knees up! Everyone was supporting me and I wanted to get out... but it seemed useless. Helpless, I almost gave up and thought about floating down the river with my legs inside the now miserable and paralyzing cold river. And then, to my own surprise, with the help of Erika's encouragement and presence right next to me, holding onto my tube as I hopped over, I was back on! Lesson learned.. don't give up so easily or you might die. Okay.. maybe no need to over-exaggerate - but it would have been so easy to give up and deal with the consequential cold - or, persevere and reap the rewards (in this case.. not being numb waist down). What's even funnier is how I thought this would be the toughest part. Boy, was I proven wrong ... once we got off, without shoes, we had to truck our way over tiny stones, evily scattered on the river edge. Ouch. I'm so glad someone invented shoes but so sad I didn't have any at that point. Nevertheless, the adventure was worth it and was overall, fun and enjoyable. Stupendous, I say!
I did miss my family and friends. Though we didn't have any huge plans this year and everyone went their own ways, I did a round of calls that afternoon. I was able to reach some, left messages for others, and felt melancholy all around. There's no denying the fact that people grow up and grow apart but we still hold onto those memories from the past, the ones that make us laugh and smile fondly, but confronting such change is often difficult. It's important to acknowledge such realities and not meander about the past too long. Things change... we change... but as long as it's for the better... we should be okay.
What would the Fourth of July be without a BBQ? So BBQ we did, tucked away in the mountains, we gathered with Andy's family and friends and so much amazing food. Now whenever I am in an environment with mostly LDS folks, I always compare and contrast with my own experiences with family and friends. The only difference I really witness? Alcohol. As for family events, the difference is minimal because despite having alcohol present at every family outing, it's just a beverage option. Nobody is getting tossed, nobody is getting loud or obnoxious and nobody is even discernably drunk. The friend situations vary. Some BBQs (like our Fourth of July last year) is beyond crazy while some BBQs (Julia and Eric's famous delightful yummy ones) are more tame. It seems to fluctuate based on the time of year, group of friends, everyone's mood, and the amount of free flowing alcohol available.
We finished the night with some fireworks but upon laying in bed at night, Sky and I couldn't sleep. We talked on and on, about the changes we were experiencing, the fun we were having and it was there, I told Sky ... I think I want to bear my testimony tomorrow. I knew Sky was already planning to do so but I wasn't ready to stand in front of strangers. Furthermore, I wasn't even sure what I would say. I remember a friend telling me a testimony wasn't a conversion story. It should be simple.. that you have a testimony, that you believe, that you know. I would aim to do just that, but boy was I nervous. After deciding to go up together, we reverted back to our girl talk and giddily, Sky told me about some guy and the last I remember was asking her what she liked about him before drifting off.
We began Sunday morning with a visit to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir with a special presentation at the Confererence Center. And much to my joy, they sang "You're a Grand Ol' Flag" - a favorite of Grace and mine since we were kids and a constant in my weekend as we sang it often and I even called Grace and left a message with us singing it to which .. she returned a call singing it as well!
We went to Andy's family ward that morning. Having started my journey at a family ward, I'm always really excited to go back to them! But this time... I was a ball or nerves at the prospect of bearing my testimony. I'm not sure if I was prompted to by something greater than myself, but I wanted to do it .. I just wasn't sure if I could!
I'm used to speaking in front of people. I was a speech dork in high school, I was a student rep who had to speak up during meetings with the Board of Trustees in college (or they'd strip us of our student rights!) and I've been destined to teach multiple training classes ranging from 15 to 60 participants for the majority of June... So why was the idea of bearing this simple testimony at Church so frightening? I'm really not sure.. but it was! My legs were shaking and I'm glad there was a podium to hide the jitters, and I shifted my weight back and forth so the bishopric wouldn't notice.
I don't even remember exactly what I said. I just know it felt right and the most important part was that I testify of God, of Jesus Christ, of Joseph Smith and of the restored Church.
p.s. It also wasn't as bad as I thought it would be ... although I did trip on a word once or twice. Word vomit... tastes so good, yum yum! Oh well, no pain .. no gain.
Saturday, July 11, 2009
A Glimpse of My Weekend In Salt Lake City (Part 1 of 2)
I have never taken a road trip longer than 6 hours which in the past has consisted of driving with family, the BFF or the ex-boyfriend. Family road trips are always fun because we play games to make the time pass, tell jokes, or just sleep since pops and mom are driving. Trips with the BFF are great because we talk about life, the past, the future and have a bunch of fun dancing and belting out to our favorite tunes - old and new. Trips with the ex-boyfriend were obligatory and more nerve wrecking than not due to the fact that we were usually on our way to see his entire extended family for the weekend and most often, filled with really bad fog that freaked me out and irritated him when I demonstrated such cowardness or what he perceived as distrust to his driving (there's definitely a reason we broke up).
For the Fourth of July weekend, I went on what would be the longest road trip this flower has ever had the power to experience. 10 hours to Salt Lake City. Oh yes. We did.
This is hour two driving back home.. but to be honest, it is probably the same as hours 3-5 boths ways...
Despite all my fears of what the ten hour road trip would do to us - whether it would bind us closer or make us more annoyed with each other - it was so insanely fun, relaxing and awesome. Andy generously offered his manly driving skills while Sky and I just sat there, trying to navigate the i-pod (which is actually really hard on the new car), munching on whatever goodies we had, dancing like rockstars and asking Andy when we could get off next so I could pee. It was like a road trip with family AND Grace - we talked serious stuff, did silly stuff, got to know one another and bonded like atoms (do atoms bond? .. sounds like it right?).
And that was only the first 10 hours.
Sky and I stayed with Andy's family in a guest room that used to be his sister's room. We got in pretty late, after midnight, and his parents were both awake anticipating the arrival of their baby boy. We met the Phillips and then quickly got ready for bed. Unfortunately, Sky and I had both not done our scripture study so for what seemed like an eternity, I tried reading while slipping in and out of consciousness and reverting to the former chapter I had just been reading (this is why I normally do scripture study in the AM!).
The next morning, I woke up early (maybe it was the adrenaline rush) to do my scripture study alone and then go for a short run on the treadmill. My destination for both activities was an entertainment room near our rooms. As I prayed and started my studies, the Spirit came over me. I was so overwhelmed to be in Salt Lake and though I had been in Provo at BYU years before for summer camp, this was my first time actually visiting the city and taking in all the history and culture that was Salt Lake City. As my heart filled with emotion, I smiled up at Him and thanked Him for such an opportunity.
As I got ready for my morning run, I looked around the room. The room was filled with photos of Andy and his family, but mostly him and his sister. I smiled. It was so nice to see that I wasn't the only one obsessed with picture frames. I admired all the photos capturing this sweet family's life - if only for a moment - and got excited for my own opportunity to do so ... one day (hopefully sooner than later). I studied each photo and tried to imagine what it was like growing up with the Gospel in your life and felt assurred that my own kids would.
Despite my awake mind, my body was fatigued so ran I did.. but maybe for 5 minutes off and on of walks uphill. Twenty five minutes passed and I gave up and resorted to some ab work. As I did, the realization that I was in Salt Lake City hit me. What was Temple Square going to be like? Would I get bored by the sight-seeing? Would I enjoy it? Did I really just leave LA for the Fourth of July weekend to go to Salt Lake? Am I really up at 6:30 AM, talking to God, after sleeping less than 5 hours?
I put all my fears aside and got ready for the day. And then I realized... Andy had my Sunday Best clothes. There wasn't enough room in our room to hang my garmet bag so Andy had taken them into his room. I texted him and waited patiently while Sky got ready. And then I was bored. ADD struck. I pranced outside to the entertainment room once more and saw a collection of photo albums on the shelf and decided to pass the time by viewing some more of the Phillips' photos. Sky soon joined me and what we thought was a photo album turned out to be a project Andy had made when he was 13 or 14. Either he had a lot of help from his parents or he was a pretty smart kid. I was blown away. The simplicity of the project's purpose was obvious but embedded within the simplicity were grand metaphors about life, the Gospel and truths I wasn't aware a 13 year old kid could grasp. It made me think about the Strength of the Youth Pamphlet. As dorky as that little pamphlet may seem at first, it is filled with so much useful counseling and guidance that I secretly wished someone had dropped one in my hands when I was younger. I always knew not to do certain things as instructed by Momma Chou, but I can't say she always gave me a reason why besides, Because I said so! I sighed inside, secretly, for the things I had missed, but then smiled when I realized, I have so much more - my own life according to His commandments, has just begun. And my smile turned into a silly grin when I realized, the family I eventually start will have such joy in their life.
That morning, we went to the Conference Center (it seats 21,000 people!), walked the grounds around the Salt Lake Temple and went inside to do baptisms for the dead. As overwhelming as it all could have been, I inhaled it like the air I breathe, so naturally and comfortably. And even though it was all new to me, it didn't feel new. It felt ... oddly familiar.
The Salt Lake Temple was beautiful. And, not to diss the LA Temple, but the experience for Sky (it was her first time) was probably more informative and helpful than that I experienced while in LA. Maybe it was the fact that there were more staff around helping. Maybe it was the fact that Salt Lake has been around longer. But probably - it was just the fact that instead of making new friends (as I did while at the LA Temple) with other girls who had done this before, there were staff from the Salt Lake temple telling us what to do every step of the way.
That afternoon, I got to see all the rooms within a Temple - which is awesome because once dedicated, are off limits to non-LDS and even for the LDS, have limitations based on your committments and covenants with God. Thus, being recent converts, Sky and I would have to wait, at minimum, a year before determining our worthiness for entry into the other rooms. We went to the Oquirrh Temple, where the lines were massive (attributed to the holiday weekend) and after 3 hours, I am happy to state, if you ever get a chance to see a Temple before it's dedicated, DO IT! It will literally take your breath away. Sky was adorable as we walked through the rooms upstairs, commenting that she wanted to go there before her one year probation period and if it was possible, and having done a lot of research on the temples via the world wide web during her investigation, skeptically asked Andy questions that she was unsure if she was allowed to ask. Though I share her excitement, I'm actually really glad to know there is a one year wait period because I want to know that I can be a good daughter of God before making more promises. Though I share her curiosity, I'm secretly glad I never went searching for truths or lies manifested on the internet. Until the time comes, it's not even about being patient rather being diligent and holding myself to higher standards and according to the Gospel until the time comes.
The Phillips graciously took us to dinner at a Thai restaurant after the Temple open house and while we were driving there, I kept pestering Brother Phillips about how him and Sister Phillips met. I always think it's fascinating how people meet their companions and remember fondly of the time my own pops told me his story with my mum during a 5 hour drive in which the story lasted about 2 hours. Yes, my parents had a rather detailed and long courtship that is pretty touching. Similar to Brother Phillips, my dad knew he was going to marry my mom early on, although my dad did have his own doubts when they had disagreements during the wedding planning. In fact, it got me thinking - how interesting if I were able to get a hold of all the letters my mom and dad wrote to each other while he was at St. Louis for school and she was in Taiwan. How interesting to see the past in its essence which is one huge reason, we should all journal more! I, myself, am guilty of rarely doing so and in fact, was reminded of the lack of personal touch so many of our interactions have these days. Gone are the letters from our parents' day and in its place, we have instant messages, text messages and e-mails! Oh my my my!
After dinner, we eagerly went to go watch the Joseph Smith movie, but it was canceled (most likely due to the holiday weekend)! Instead, we played tourist, and went in front of the Salt Lake Temple to take photos. Always a photo enthusiast, I wanted something more interactive than posed and seeing a statue of a mother with her kids playing ring around the rosies, I asked if we could do the same. And do the same we did!
And that was the first part (or first two days) of the trip to SLC. Stay tuned for part 2!!!
For the Fourth of July weekend, I went on what would be the longest road trip this flower has ever had the power to experience. 10 hours to Salt Lake City. Oh yes. We did.
This is hour two driving back home.. but to be honest, it is probably the same as hours 3-5 boths ways...
Despite all my fears of what the ten hour road trip would do to us - whether it would bind us closer or make us more annoyed with each other - it was so insanely fun, relaxing and awesome. Andy generously offered his manly driving skills while Sky and I just sat there, trying to navigate the i-pod (which is actually really hard on the new car), munching on whatever goodies we had, dancing like rockstars and asking Andy when we could get off next so I could pee. It was like a road trip with family AND Grace - we talked serious stuff, did silly stuff, got to know one another and bonded like atoms (do atoms bond? .. sounds like it right?).
And that was only the first 10 hours.
Sky and I stayed with Andy's family in a guest room that used to be his sister's room. We got in pretty late, after midnight, and his parents were both awake anticipating the arrival of their baby boy. We met the Phillips and then quickly got ready for bed. Unfortunately, Sky and I had both not done our scripture study so for what seemed like an eternity, I tried reading while slipping in and out of consciousness and reverting to the former chapter I had just been reading (this is why I normally do scripture study in the AM!).
The next morning, I woke up early (maybe it was the adrenaline rush) to do my scripture study alone and then go for a short run on the treadmill. My destination for both activities was an entertainment room near our rooms. As I prayed and started my studies, the Spirit came over me. I was so overwhelmed to be in Salt Lake and though I had been in Provo at BYU years before for summer camp, this was my first time actually visiting the city and taking in all the history and culture that was Salt Lake City. As my heart filled with emotion, I smiled up at Him and thanked Him for such an opportunity.
As I got ready for my morning run, I looked around the room. The room was filled with photos of Andy and his family, but mostly him and his sister. I smiled. It was so nice to see that I wasn't the only one obsessed with picture frames. I admired all the photos capturing this sweet family's life - if only for a moment - and got excited for my own opportunity to do so ... one day (hopefully sooner than later). I studied each photo and tried to imagine what it was like growing up with the Gospel in your life and felt assurred that my own kids would.
Despite my awake mind, my body was fatigued so ran I did.. but maybe for 5 minutes off and on of walks uphill. Twenty five minutes passed and I gave up and resorted to some ab work. As I did, the realization that I was in Salt Lake City hit me. What was Temple Square going to be like? Would I get bored by the sight-seeing? Would I enjoy it? Did I really just leave LA for the Fourth of July weekend to go to Salt Lake? Am I really up at 6:30 AM, talking to God, after sleeping less than 5 hours?
I put all my fears aside and got ready for the day. And then I realized... Andy had my Sunday Best clothes. There wasn't enough room in our room to hang my garmet bag so Andy had taken them into his room. I texted him and waited patiently while Sky got ready. And then I was bored. ADD struck. I pranced outside to the entertainment room once more and saw a collection of photo albums on the shelf and decided to pass the time by viewing some more of the Phillips' photos. Sky soon joined me and what we thought was a photo album turned out to be a project Andy had made when he was 13 or 14. Either he had a lot of help from his parents or he was a pretty smart kid. I was blown away. The simplicity of the project's purpose was obvious but embedded within the simplicity were grand metaphors about life, the Gospel and truths I wasn't aware a 13 year old kid could grasp. It made me think about the Strength of the Youth Pamphlet. As dorky as that little pamphlet may seem at first, it is filled with so much useful counseling and guidance that I secretly wished someone had dropped one in my hands when I was younger. I always knew not to do certain things as instructed by Momma Chou, but I can't say she always gave me a reason why besides, Because I said so! I sighed inside, secretly, for the things I had missed, but then smiled when I realized, I have so much more - my own life according to His commandments, has just begun. And my smile turned into a silly grin when I realized, the family I eventually start will have such joy in their life.
That morning, we went to the Conference Center (it seats 21,000 people!), walked the grounds around the Salt Lake Temple and went inside to do baptisms for the dead. As overwhelming as it all could have been, I inhaled it like the air I breathe, so naturally and comfortably. And even though it was all new to me, it didn't feel new. It felt ... oddly familiar.
The Salt Lake Temple was beautiful. And, not to diss the LA Temple, but the experience for Sky (it was her first time) was probably more informative and helpful than that I experienced while in LA. Maybe it was the fact that there were more staff around helping. Maybe it was the fact that Salt Lake has been around longer. But probably - it was just the fact that instead of making new friends (as I did while at the LA Temple) with other girls who had done this before, there were staff from the Salt Lake temple telling us what to do every step of the way.
That afternoon, I got to see all the rooms within a Temple - which is awesome because once dedicated, are off limits to non-LDS and even for the LDS, have limitations based on your committments and covenants with God. Thus, being recent converts, Sky and I would have to wait, at minimum, a year before determining our worthiness for entry into the other rooms. We went to the Oquirrh Temple, where the lines were massive (attributed to the holiday weekend) and after 3 hours, I am happy to state, if you ever get a chance to see a Temple before it's dedicated, DO IT! It will literally take your breath away. Sky was adorable as we walked through the rooms upstairs, commenting that she wanted to go there before her one year probation period and if it was possible, and having done a lot of research on the temples via the world wide web during her investigation, skeptically asked Andy questions that she was unsure if she was allowed to ask. Though I share her excitement, I'm actually really glad to know there is a one year wait period because I want to know that I can be a good daughter of God before making more promises. Though I share her curiosity, I'm secretly glad I never went searching for truths or lies manifested on the internet. Until the time comes, it's not even about being patient rather being diligent and holding myself to higher standards and according to the Gospel until the time comes.
The Phillips graciously took us to dinner at a Thai restaurant after the Temple open house and while we were driving there, I kept pestering Brother Phillips about how him and Sister Phillips met. I always think it's fascinating how people meet their companions and remember fondly of the time my own pops told me his story with my mum during a 5 hour drive in which the story lasted about 2 hours. Yes, my parents had a rather detailed and long courtship that is pretty touching. Similar to Brother Phillips, my dad knew he was going to marry my mom early on, although my dad did have his own doubts when they had disagreements during the wedding planning. In fact, it got me thinking - how interesting if I were able to get a hold of all the letters my mom and dad wrote to each other while he was at St. Louis for school and she was in Taiwan. How interesting to see the past in its essence which is one huge reason, we should all journal more! I, myself, am guilty of rarely doing so and in fact, was reminded of the lack of personal touch so many of our interactions have these days. Gone are the letters from our parents' day and in its place, we have instant messages, text messages and e-mails! Oh my my my!
After dinner, we eagerly went to go watch the Joseph Smith movie, but it was canceled (most likely due to the holiday weekend)! Instead, we played tourist, and went in front of the Salt Lake Temple to take photos. Always a photo enthusiast, I wanted something more interactive than posed and seeing a statue of a mother with her kids playing ring around the rosies, I asked if we could do the same. And do the same we did!
And that was the first part (or first two days) of the trip to SLC. Stay tuned for part 2!!!
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Lights out!!!
Last night I had quite the unique experience. Quinn and I decided to go to the Los Angeles Temple to do an endowment session. We arrived 10 minutes before the 6:30 session began, and somehow were able to change clothes in time to avoid waiting an hour for the 7:30 session. Our quick dressing abilities would prove to be essential in helping us to have the marvelous experience that we had.
Much of the things that happen in the many temples of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints are kept secret. Many people speculate upon the reasons why. The reason is simply this: the temple is a sacred place, the House of the Lord. It is a place where to enter we must maintain certain standards which separate us from the rest of the world. It is a place where once we enter we shed the clothes that we entered in for white clothing. It is a place where we essentially leave the world behind to enter a holier sphere. Our secretiveness about the temple helps us to maintain the temple as a unique place, a sacred place. As such, the details of my experience can only be shared if you want to take a trip to the temple with me; as for this post, I will only give a vague description of the happenings, and a little principle that I had reinforced as I reflected upon my experience.
The temple is a place of repetition, but where even amidst repetition, new principles are learned. I was sitting in the endowment session, listening and thinking about the covenants that are made in the temple, when all of a sudden, the lights went out. The darkness only lasted a moment as the emergency lights came on. Even with the emergency lights on, the room I was in was still dark, but you could still see some light creeping in under the doors from the hallway. My first thought was the circuit to the room was overloaded. We were quickly moved to another room, which had half of it's lights on. We resumed the session, whereupon the whir of electricity once again left us sitting in the dark. For some reason there was enough electricity to hear what we needed to, but that was it. No emergency lights, and no power to anything else.
After learning in the dark for a few moments, the temple president, and a few other workers entered brandishing flashlights. Their attitude was one "The work must go on." Although finished the ordinances required a bit of improv, the work was done, and the 30 or so people that we were representing had the opportunity to accept the ordinance we performed on their behalf.
The experience had me thinking much about a scripture which I have recently committed to memory:
For we labor diligently to write, to persuade our children, and also our brethren, to believe in Christ, and to be reconciled to God; for we know that it is by grace that we are saved, after all we can do.
2nd Nephi 25:23
Within this scripture lies one of the powerful if... then... statements of the Book of Mormon. Such a promise has brought me so much peace in my life, as the experience of trying my hardest and coming up short of my goals is a familiar one. Each time it happens, I find comfort in knowing that if my best effort was truly put forth, the grace of Christ can make up the difference; through His sacrifice my efforts become enough, and they are accepted of God.
As I went through the temple in the dark, I couldn't help but think of how easy it would have been for all the workers and the temple President to have just said "What are we to do? Without electricity we can't lift this, we can't see that... We tried, it wasn't within our power. Better luck next time." Instead, they recognized the importance of the if clause of the promise and went about fulfilling their part. As they did so, God provided the necessary small miracles which allowed the work to go forth. In the future, when it comes time to ask myself if I have truly done all that I can do, I will look back fondly on the temple workers of last night, and give that question a little more thought.
Within this scripture lies one of the powerful if... then... statements of the Book of Mormon. Such a promise has brought me so much peace in my life, as the experience of trying my hardest and coming up short of my goals is a familiar one. Each time it happens, I find comfort in knowing that if my best effort was truly put forth, the grace of Christ can make up the difference; through His sacrifice my efforts become enough, and they are accepted of God.
As I went through the temple in the dark, I couldn't help but think of how easy it would have been for all the workers and the temple President to have just said "What are we to do? Without electricity we can't lift this, we can't see that... We tried, it wasn't within our power. Better luck next time." Instead, they recognized the importance of the if clause of the promise and went about fulfilling their part. As they did so, God provided the necessary small miracles which allowed the work to go forth. In the future, when it comes time to ask myself if I have truly done all that I can do, I will look back fondly on the temple workers of last night, and give that question a little more thought.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
I Am Happy When I'm Here ... BUT I'm Too Realistic To Ever Believe
Those were the first words I heard out of Sky's mouth when I first met her at Church. I remember pondering about that afterwards. Church is 3 hours. You must be REALLY REALLY happy, spitting out fumes of happiness to be committed enough to stick around for 3 hours, listening to talks about the gospel and learning about the prophet or other scripture related wonders. You must be REALLY REALLY happy, to sit there and sing the hymns which talk about the Saviour, Zion, the Atonement, the love for Heavenly Father, repentence and the Plan of Salvation. And last but not least... you must be REALLY REALLY happy to come again.
She was ... but now she is even happier. Because last night... Sky got baptized. Last night... Sky made a promise to God. Last night... Sky was forgiven and given a blank slate. And as of last night, Sky is a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
Before the baptism - she was a bundle of nerves. She was jumpy but from trepidation of .. what have I gotten myself into? Besides a cuter jumpsuit since it was a large child's size, she was doing it. She was going to step into that water and make a promise to God. After the baptism, there was a joy in her twinkling eyes, a glimmer in her flushed cheeks and a giddiness in every step she took.
She bore her testimony and I'll never forget my favorite analogy - she talked about this path to God... how she had found it and though it wasn't going to be an easy path and despite other paths around that looked more fun and alluring, this was the path that was going to lead her where she knew she needed to be. What I liked about that analogy was the honest and sincere declaration that .. hey, this isn't easy... trust me, it isn't but I know it's the only way back to God and I want to do it... and oh wait, watch me.. cuz I am going to do it!
It was so beautifully priceless to see Sky's growth as she came to learn of the gospel and be touched by the Spirit. In her, I have found a friend who not only understands me and can relate, but is so devoted and so fun to be around because she is also silly, crazy, generous, thoughtful, caring, intelligent, and out of this world!
Happy Baptism Sky! You are truly awesome, fantabulous and superrific beyond belief!
She was ... but now she is even happier. Because last night... Sky got baptized. Last night... Sky made a promise to God. Last night... Sky was forgiven and given a blank slate. And as of last night, Sky is a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
Before the baptism - she was a bundle of nerves. She was jumpy but from trepidation of .. what have I gotten myself into? Besides a cuter jumpsuit since it was a large child's size, she was doing it. She was going to step into that water and make a promise to God. After the baptism, there was a joy in her twinkling eyes, a glimmer in her flushed cheeks and a giddiness in every step she took.
She bore her testimony and I'll never forget my favorite analogy - she talked about this path to God... how she had found it and though it wasn't going to be an easy path and despite other paths around that looked more fun and alluring, this was the path that was going to lead her where she knew she needed to be. What I liked about that analogy was the honest and sincere declaration that .. hey, this isn't easy... trust me, it isn't but I know it's the only way back to God and I want to do it... and oh wait, watch me.. cuz I am going to do it!
It was so beautifully priceless to see Sky's growth as she came to learn of the gospel and be touched by the Spirit. In her, I have found a friend who not only understands me and can relate, but is so devoted and so fun to be around because she is also silly, crazy, generous, thoughtful, caring, intelligent, and out of this world!
Happy Baptism Sky! You are truly awesome, fantabulous and superrific beyond belief!
Remember That One Time...
I often have moments with the missionaries that lead us to say... remember that one time....?
So I've accumulated some of my favorite remember that one times... because I want to remember these moments with my favorite missionaries who have definitely been on a missionary high lately with the baptism of 4 new members in our ward within the last month, including my buddy, Sky!
Remember that one time... DDaisy called the missionaries and talked to Elder Cox, telling him, "Hi, my name is Daisy and I started investigating the Church in San Jose and am now back here... when can we meet for a lesson?"
Remember that one time... Daisy met Elder Ridge for the first time and told him he had the ugliest orange paisley tie on that she had ever seen in her life?
Remember that one time.... Elder Ridge and Daisy made up a secret handshake and she got really excited but the next time we met, he forgot how it went?
Remember that one time.... Elder Cox told me Daisy she shouldn't worry about getting married since he just met someone who got married at 74?!
Remember that one time... when Elder Ridge scolded at his companion and said, "You're my companion but right now, I cannot agree with you because you just told her she'd be 74 when she gets married!"
Remember that one time.... when Daisy went to the Revlon 5k at the Colliseum and ran into 20 or so missionaries working the event and called the elders right away to share about it?
Remember that one time... when Elder Ridge told Daisy she had to shave her head if she wanted to get baptized?
Rember that one time .. actually, more than once... when Sky and Daisy told the missionaries they had just been drinking together and decided baptism and the whole Mormon thing was just not for them?
Remember that one time.... when Daisy told the Elders about her 5-year college reunion where beer was free flowing ahd she smelled some from a red cup and it smelled so fresh and Elder Ridge said, "Don't be stupid Daisy! Why would you toy with temptation like that?"
Remember that one time.... when Daisy realized the Church was true and knew she couldn't turn back?
Remember that one time.... when Daisy decided not to get baptized and texted the missionaries at 12 AM?
Remember that one time... when Daisy then got an answer (or more an encouragement that she better) from God after freaking out about baptism?
Remember that one time... the elders made Daisy promise not to date any non-members for two years and then yelled at her when a non-member asked her out?
Remember that one time... the elders told Daisy she intimidates men and to be nicer?
Remember that one time.... when Momma Chou brought the only Mormons she knew to Daisy's baptism?
Remember that one time.... Elder Cox got to baptize someone for the first time?
Remember that one time.... Elder Cox made a contorted face for almost every photo during Daisy's baptism?
Remember that one time... Elder Cox destroyed Daisy's Welcome to Relief Society certificate because he was so excited about the Reese's Pieces Peanut Butter cupcake that he dropped the chocolate cupcake he was holding into the same bag that held her certificate?
Remember that one time... when the elders left a note on Daisy's car to avoid the forbidden fruit because although the words of wisdom say eat fresh fruit... it's not supposed to be soaked in alcohol.
Remember that one time.... when Joseph Smith prayed sincerely for an answer?
Remember that one time.... when the Saviour died so that we could live?
Remember that one time... when God's Church was restored?
Remember that one time....
Oh yes. I will remember.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
My Baby Brother and Me
When I was growing up, I used to wonder what it would be like to have a sibling. I was constantly lonely and bored. Albeit I never had an imaginery friend, I hated being the only child and developed some insecurities manifested by the sucking of my thumb (until 5th grade) and the inability to let go of my two security items - a pink satin blanket I still have to this day and still use (yeah it's almost near the end of its life) and a lil stuffed white bear with a pink t-shirt (I have no idea where she went).
At five, I began going to ballet and tap classes on Saturdays and group piano lessons at the local Yamaha. I loved dancing. Hated the piano. What I liked about dancing was the ability to express myself through steps and arm movements and I knew someone was watching when I twirled in my tutus for dance recitals. Plus, I loved having make-up applied to my face as a lil girl because my own mother didn't own any make-up nor did she allow me to buy any to play dress up. My aunt would always come in to help me with dolling up my face for a performance. Piano, on the other hand ... was so insanely dull. I hated memorizing the different notes and symbols and the constant scolding of the teacher to mimic my hand like an apple, not a bread when I hit the notes. And hit I did. The piano, that is. My notes were cacaphony to the ear... yet my mother kept making me play and not just when I felt like it (which would have been never) but instead for a gruesome hour each day! UGH. At the young age of five, I was opinionated and an attention hog. These two things would make life a lot harder at six.
At six, my mom had another baby. He was adorable - the cutest baby boy anyone had ever seen and who could deny that little dimple?! I resented him. I couldn't play with him and he was the only thing people wanted to talk about or see when they came over now. Nobody asked me about ballet or the piano anymore. Nobody asked me when my next recital was anymore. Nobody asked me to do a twirl for them anymore. Who cares about his stinky diapers and cute lil laugh? Who care if he has a dimple? Who cares if he's the cutest baby ever? What about me?!
My grandmother noticed immediately and advised my mom to take immediate action. So my mom took me aside one day and told me there was one thing I had that my baby brother could never have that I was lucky to have forever. I must have rolled my eyes (where do kids learn these things so young?!) in disbelief because she then proceeded to tell me what that was. "You have six years with just Mom and Dad that Lay-Lay will never have," she told me. I thought about it for a while and then like a flip of the switch, I was happy again. I bounced off with the knowledge that I already beat him - even before he was born! Take that sucka!!!
These days, my brother is one of my best friends. He laughs at me when I tell him about guys that I'm crushing on and advises me against overthinking, overanalyzing and overreacting. I give him advice about the real world, how to handle difficult people and he listens. He complains about adolescence, me about adulthood and we both try to keep each other in check. We laugh about stupid things only we understand (that's 20 years of inside jokes and some immature ones like you're mom! ... yeah ummm you have the same one...), plan our busy weekends together (e.g. beach, eat, shop, bake, cook, get food, run errands, eat more, watch a movie, eat again) and complain to each other when mom or pops is being unreasonable. I send him care packages for holidays, postcards intermittenly and talk to him online or on the phone at least three times a week. If I have a business trip anywhere on the east coast, I make a stop over to see him and be sugar momma for a weekend. Sometimes he forgets to say thank you which bugs me out but it's this weird sisterly love that I can'y deny and often times, forgive him too easily and quickly. When we go out together, people often think he's the older brother, mainly attributed to his looming height of 6'4 and what I hope is a youth that radiates within me! No matter what, at the end of the day, I am big sis and he is lil bro.
So when I told my lil bro about the Church, he was the first one genuinely concerned and frightened for me. Do you know what you're getting yourself into? Do you even know what Mormons believe in? Do you know who Joseph Smith is? After some discussion with him, I found out he had invited some missionaries into our home at 16 when I was off in college. He was instructed to read parts of the Book of Mormon and asked to pray but he didn't do both. He read and didn't pray. His high school debate partner was Mormon. He knew some crazy Mormon girl who got pregnant at 19 and then got married. He made some assumptions about Mormons and was sticking to it.
But there were two things that he said that touched me and lead me to believe.. he will give me a chance to speak to him about it all in more depth one day. When I asked him how this would affect him and how it was for me, his response was, "You're my sister.. how could this not affect me?" and "I disagree but I'll go to your baptism." At this point... I hadn't even decided to get baptized nor did I invite him.
He came to the baptism. And he had really bad allergies throughout the baptism but to the rest of the world, he was touched. Who knows the truth? Only God and my brother.
I pray for him everyday. That he will come to know the things I do and that he will see the example I provide. He knows the crazy things I did, he witnessed some of them and he knows how big of a change this is for me. He must wonder... he must. He can't not wonder.
I know God has a plan for him as he did for me and I hope I can be a part of that plan.
At five, I began going to ballet and tap classes on Saturdays and group piano lessons at the local Yamaha. I loved dancing. Hated the piano. What I liked about dancing was the ability to express myself through steps and arm movements and I knew someone was watching when I twirled in my tutus for dance recitals. Plus, I loved having make-up applied to my face as a lil girl because my own mother didn't own any make-up nor did she allow me to buy any to play dress up. My aunt would always come in to help me with dolling up my face for a performance. Piano, on the other hand ... was so insanely dull. I hated memorizing the different notes and symbols and the constant scolding of the teacher to mimic my hand like an apple, not a bread when I hit the notes. And hit I did. The piano, that is. My notes were cacaphony to the ear... yet my mother kept making me play and not just when I felt like it (which would have been never) but instead for a gruesome hour each day! UGH. At the young age of five, I was opinionated and an attention hog. These two things would make life a lot harder at six.
At six, my mom had another baby. He was adorable - the cutest baby boy anyone had ever seen and who could deny that little dimple?! I resented him. I couldn't play with him and he was the only thing people wanted to talk about or see when they came over now. Nobody asked me about ballet or the piano anymore. Nobody asked me when my next recital was anymore. Nobody asked me to do a twirl for them anymore. Who cares about his stinky diapers and cute lil laugh? Who care if he has a dimple? Who cares if he's the cutest baby ever? What about me?!
My grandmother noticed immediately and advised my mom to take immediate action. So my mom took me aside one day and told me there was one thing I had that my baby brother could never have that I was lucky to have forever. I must have rolled my eyes (where do kids learn these things so young?!) in disbelief because she then proceeded to tell me what that was. "You have six years with just Mom and Dad that Lay-Lay will never have," she told me. I thought about it for a while and then like a flip of the switch, I was happy again. I bounced off with the knowledge that I already beat him - even before he was born! Take that sucka!!!
As Lay-Lay and I grew up, we had our differences. Well, I had our differences. Mainly - the fact that he would never leave me alone! He tagged along with me everywhere if given the opportunity, hung around when friends were over, sat there and just listened in on our conversations, pretending like he knew what we were talking about.
And then... when I went to college and came back for a weekend... he must have been 13... he ran into the room while I was sleeping in the morning, gave me a big hug and said, "Jia - I missed you!" I was in shock. I had never felt the sisterly love that others talked about in movies or on tv until that very precise moment. It's a bit embarassing to say I never realized I truly loved my brother until I was 19 .. but it's true. Up until then, I just went through the expected emotions one should have for their family members. Of course I cared for him and took care of him, but Asians don't show a lot of emotions nor do we really hug or say I love you. So his little gesture out of nowhere meant the world to me and it opened my eyes to truths about our sibling relationship and what it really meant to the both of us.
These days, my brother is one of my best friends. He laughs at me when I tell him about guys that I'm crushing on and advises me against overthinking, overanalyzing and overreacting. I give him advice about the real world, how to handle difficult people and he listens. He complains about adolescence, me about adulthood and we both try to keep each other in check. We laugh about stupid things only we understand (that's 20 years of inside jokes and some immature ones like you're mom! ... yeah ummm you have the same one...), plan our busy weekends together (e.g. beach, eat, shop, bake, cook, get food, run errands, eat more, watch a movie, eat again) and complain to each other when mom or pops is being unreasonable. I send him care packages for holidays, postcards intermittenly and talk to him online or on the phone at least three times a week. If I have a business trip anywhere on the east coast, I make a stop over to see him and be sugar momma for a weekend. Sometimes he forgets to say thank you which bugs me out but it's this weird sisterly love that I can'y deny and often times, forgive him too easily and quickly. When we go out together, people often think he's the older brother, mainly attributed to his looming height of 6'4 and what I hope is a youth that radiates within me! No matter what, at the end of the day, I am big sis and he is lil bro.
So when I told my lil bro about the Church, he was the first one genuinely concerned and frightened for me. Do you know what you're getting yourself into? Do you even know what Mormons believe in? Do you know who Joseph Smith is? After some discussion with him, I found out he had invited some missionaries into our home at 16 when I was off in college. He was instructed to read parts of the Book of Mormon and asked to pray but he didn't do both. He read and didn't pray. His high school debate partner was Mormon. He knew some crazy Mormon girl who got pregnant at 19 and then got married. He made some assumptions about Mormons and was sticking to it.
But there were two things that he said that touched me and lead me to believe.. he will give me a chance to speak to him about it all in more depth one day. When I asked him how this would affect him and how it was for me, his response was, "You're my sister.. how could this not affect me?" and "I disagree but I'll go to your baptism." At this point... I hadn't even decided to get baptized nor did I invite him.
He came to the baptism. And he had really bad allergies throughout the baptism but to the rest of the world, he was touched. Who knows the truth? Only God and my brother.
I pray for him everyday. That he will come to know the things I do and that he will see the example I provide. He knows the crazy things I did, he witnessed some of them and he knows how big of a change this is for me. He must wonder... he must. He can't not wonder.
The other day he told me about how he wanted to write a film about his life in the early 20's, a couple years into college but still not graduated or in the real world. He told me about what everyone was doing and how people have changed, then asked me if that's what it was like for me at that age. It was, I told him. It's weird how life sometimes parallels another.
I know God has a plan for him as he did for me and I hope I can be a part of that plan.
I <3 my baby bro
p.s. that turkey we made for Thanksgiving was bomb-diggity.
p.s. that turkey we made for Thanksgiving was bomb-diggity.
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