My Holland Heroes

I've had a lot of heroes in my lifetime. They've been people that I admire and love, people that I've learned from and people who I aspire to be like. These examples are an irreplaceable part of my life. I've had one in particular on my mind today and I'd like to write a bit about her, which hopefully won't embarrass her.

 

I met Erica (Lamb) Holland in January of 2005. We had both signed up to go on a hiking study abroad in the British Isles. I remember meeting her in our prep class and thinking, "I could definitely be friends with this girl..." Our first night in Edinburgh Scotland, we were assigned as "bed buddies" and were friends ever since. We had many a night laughing until we groaned in pain. We made up ridiculous stories and we walked and acted out scenes from movies or books. We told each other silly jokes and stories of funny things we'd done. We were virtually inseparable throughout our time in England, Scotland, and Wales. She is one of the greatest friends I have ever had. She entered my life at a time when I really needed a good friend to listen to me and to love me. We got home and she finished her wedding plans. I remember sitting at her wedding reception and watching her a Brad dancing and thinking "Someday I want to have a marriage like Brad and Erica's." Both amazing people, both rock solid, both great examples. We kept in good contact over the next few years. When I got home from my mission, she was the second person to call me and the first to come visit me. She introduced me to the office. When she called a few months late to tell me she was pregnant, I was ecstatic. Now she has a beautiful little family.

But Erica isn't my hero just because she is a good friend, has a great marriage, beautiful baby, or even because she showed me the first episode I've ever seen of the Office. Erica is my hero because she is amazing. She is strong. She is happy. And her life, just like every one else's, is not always easy. She had to say goodbye to Brad for 15 months as he went to serve our country in Iraq. She is raising her daughter (kind of on her own right now) on the other side of the world. 

She and her baby Annika are over in Germany on an army base far away from family and friends and far away from her husband. So I guess when I say that she is my hero, what I really mean is that I have three heros: Erica, Brad, and their daughter Annika. But let's talk about Erica for now.

I admire Erica for her optimism... like when we used to wake up early in the morning in a hostel in England and she'd stick her head down from the top bunk ready to take on the day full of hiking (and getting lost)

.

She approaches everything with a good attitude, even when sometimes the situation would allow for a little bit of grumpiness. She never complains. She always looks for the good in life. When I hear from her, she tells about all the things she's seen, all the blessings she has, and how much she loves her life. She is always grateful, always positive, and always kind. She rejoices over the arrival of a long-awaited stroller, she finds pleasure in the babbling of her little baby, and she attributes it all to her Heavenly Father.  I am so impressed by her optimism.

Along with that, I appreciate her for her spiritual strength, symbolized in this picture.

She's stayed so close to the Lord. She is a constant example to me of what it means to have a testimony. She relies on God and on her hope to add to her faith in her daily life. She talks of lessons learned at church and in her calling. She remarks on the blessing of having living prophets. She speaks of her reliance on prayer. She turns to the scriptures. With this optimism and spiritual strength, she is able to teach her daughter to be like this.

While we were in England, Erica and I together conquered many a mountain. We hiked virtually everywhere we went and sometimes it could get tiring. It was oftentimes difficult and draining. Sometimes we'd get a little lost, a little injured, or a little weather-beaten. But we kept going, usually singing stupid songs or quoting movies or having meaningful talks as we went. She never gave up on me. She constantly went forward with this same optimism and spiritual strength. I love the picture below of me and Erica- we look rather statuesque in my opinion. 

Now I watch this dear friend of mine conquering other mountains. They are probably even more difficult than the ones we hiked in England and probably more draining and yet she still presses on. She summits these peaks beautifully and respectfully. She's classy. She scrambles to the top, seemingly anxious to look back at the path she's walked and remember the triumph of completing something hard. She encourages others along the way. She fights to the top. And in so doing, she inspires me greatly. She makes me want to follow in the same manner.

Her daughter Annika could not be learning from a better source. John Mayer just came on my playlist- he's singing the song "Free Fallin'" by Tom Petty and I think the first line applies to little Anni. "She's a good girl, loves her Mama. Loves Jesus and America too." The sacrifices that this faithful and obedient family make for us, for our country, and for the Lord are great. Here's Anni talking to her daddy on the computer.

I've been a little concerned lately about the future. The world seems so dark and confused. I worry about eventually raising children amongst so much hatred and filth. But today I was thinking about when Erica got to visit this summer for a little bit and I got to hold Annika. I saw so much of both of her parents in her cute little sleeping face (she's got her mom's smile, her dad's cheeks) and knowing that these are the people that are going to be raising her, teaching her to be happy, helping her gain a testimony of her own, and showing her how to conquer difficulties... this gives me more hope for the future than anything else. I'm so grateful today for people in my life, like Erica and Brad and Annika, who teach me (primarily by stellar and silent examples) how to be better. I admire all of those whose loved ones are gone from them for a time as they serve our country or the church. I admire anyone who can tackle the difficulties of life with optimism and spiritual strength. 

So, Erica. I stole some pictures off your blog. And then I decided to do a blog about you. Please don't be mad at me for either of those things. :) I miss you, I'm praying for you, and I thank you and your family for being three of my greatest examples and heros. I love you guys very much and look forward to seeing you soon.

3 years ago today...

Three years ago today my life changed forever.

I got this in the mail.

I opened it and found out I was going to be going here

to learn this

so that I could go here 

to be one of these

so that I could serve them

and Him.

Things just haven't been the same since. 

Three years ago today my life changed forever.

Rome Italy Temple

Lots of thoughts. This'll be a long one.


I have always lived in a place where temples have been readily accessible. From where I sit right now, I could get to 7 temples in less than two hours, not to mention the two temples that are being built up by Salt Lake that aren't even on the map below. It costs me maybe thirty cents of gas to drive up to the Provo temple and is even easier for me to walk. I can get in and out in two hours.

In Italy, it's a little different. For years, the members have had to go to the Bern Switzerland temple. For the saints (especially down in the south of Italy) the trip is extremely long. It takes sometimes more than 24 hours driving straight or a four hour plane ride, both of which are pretty pricey. And they don't have a ton of money.

My second day in Italy, it was a cold and rainy day in mid-March. My mission president and his wife loaded us up in the mission van and drove just over 5 minutes to a huge plot of beautiful land on the outskirts of Rome. It's covered with umbrella pines and a beautiful grove of olive trees is situated by the entrance right by a small orange house, where the assistants lived. My mission president told us that this was the land the church had bought back in 1996 in the hopes that someday they could build a temple. Constantly optimistic, the Italian Saints have held on to the land knowing that someday the millions of prayers would be finally realized. We were permitted to go off away from the others and say a sort of dedicatory prayer for our missions. The temple was something we were working so hard for. It was a motivation. It was often mentioned in talks and lessons, in testimonies and conferences. It was a goal. The Italians wanted to benefit from having their own temple they could get to more easily. One where everything was in their language and for their benefit. One where they could do temple work for their Italian ancestors.


Francisca (from Ecuador) hopes to go to the Bern temple in December for the first time. I was transferred to her area weeks after her baptism. It took her a couple weeks to warm up to me (she loved the sisters that taught her up until her baptism) but the day before I left the city, she cried as she hugged me and refused to let go for several minutes. She told me she wanted to come to Utah so she could go to the temple with me. As we taught her the new member lessons, the parts about the temple were always her favorite.

The Coca family have very little money. They are from Romania and Sorella Coca is raising three young girls all on her own. They would constantly put money aside to save up for when they could go to the temple together as a family. It was a goal they were working for together and have been working towards it for several years.

Claudia is one of my favorite investigators. She is Italian through and through. Impassioned, caring, family oriented, and feisty. I remember one day when I talked to her for a long time about the importance of temples. I taught her about the eternal nature of families and we talked about why it is so important that the temple is a place of purity. She lives maybe 45 minutes away from the temple site in Rome.

Maria Louisa's youngest son died several years ago. She was a regular of our English class and we became fast friends. One day after class, she began talking about her son. I sat down and listened. She told me of dreams she had had in which he was perfect and whole, no longer plagued by a debilitating disease, and that he stood before her dressing in white robes and told her that he would meet her in God's house. She had always been curious as to what that meant. As I told her about temples, she wept steadily and hugged me tight.

Nurshia and Anil mean the world to me. They are an amazing couple from Pakistan. When we talked to them about temples, Anil became very interested about what happened within the walls. He asked us once "What is inside? Are they just empty?" We showed him pictures of the outside and even brought in the Ensign that showed some pictures of the rooms inside the temple. He exclaimed that a church that put that much effort into creating something that beautiful must have something good about it. I still pray for the day when I can see them inside one of those rooms together.

I remember working with a mother and daughter with the last name Trevisan. They had been members for 30 years and hadn't ever been to the temple so were were teaching them to doctrine to prepare them to go. Sister Trevisan-the-elder turned 85 while we were there. Seeing their faces when they got home from going to the temple for the first time was a unique experience. They couldn't stop talking about how wonderful it made them feel. Sister Trevisan-the-younger said she'd wake up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall back asleep because she'd be thinking about how marvelous it felt to be in the temple.

I became very close with the De Antonis family from Civitavecchia (about 30 minutes out of Rome proper) less than a year after they had gone to Switzerland to be sealed together as a family. Sister De Antonis would get emotional every time she talked about how it felt to be sealed to her husband and two small children.

Ala was one of our new members from Moldova. She was constantly working to get to the temple and is still doing so. She is one of the most faithful people I know. She has so much hope for the day when she can go and be sealed for eternity to her husband who died 15 years ago and to her two kids, Eugenia (24) and Dima (21).

On October 4th, President Monson announced 5 new temples. That morning, we had some friends from the mission over to watch conference. It was freezing cold and raining hard outside. I woke up, put on wool socks and a sweatshirt and went out to eat breakfast. I said to the girls sitting on the couch "You all ready for the announcement of the Rome temple?" As soon as President Monson began talking, I could tell he was going somewhere with temples. In my heart, I was hoping for the Rome temple... and as he began to announce the five new temples, I was praying that this would be the day. Then I heard him slowly say, "and Rome, Italy." Words are not sufficient. They simply are not enough. I yelped and covered my mouth, my eyes wide. Tears began pouring down my cheeks as I thought of the people listed above and their faces. I thought of hundreds of others that I taught and knew and loved. I thought of what their reaction must be like... screaming and crying and cheering and celebrating as only Italians can. So I decided to celebrate as I knew they were and went and danced in the freezing rain, cheering and crying.

My phone didn't stop vibrating for the rest of the day. I heard from dozens of elders and sisters that I served with. Mark called me and said "Did I hear that right? Tell me I'm not dreaming..." Trevor left me a message of him yelling happily. Tammy called crying. Dave called and couldn't say anything but just laughed and laughed. Texts from Meggan, Kristen, Joel, Alisa, Calista, Ben, Spencer, Shawn, Cam, Chet, Clark, Emily, Matt, Jonathan, Jason, Tyler, Katie, Lora, Kyle, Trent, Ty, and many others came throughout the day. It would hit me in waves... I'd gain composure and then another face and another friend would come to mind and I'd again be grinning widely or wiping tears from stinging eyes. I checked my email and found my inbox full of emails from Italians and Italian missionaries describing their experiences. I'll include some of the ones from missionaries I taught in the MTC written in English, since Italian won't make much sense to most of you.

Sorella Black is a sister I taught in the MTC. She is in the Southern part of Italy. "The announcement is quite monumental for anyone who is associated with the church in Italy. The fact that I was sitting in a tiny chapel in Ragusa, my first general conference of my mission, and when they announced the temple...everyone was crying, laughing, shouting, hugging, calling people...the Italian translator sort of stumbled on the words, and you could tell he was crying too...overall a wonderful weekend."

Elder Daniel is in a southern city called Bari. "You would not believe the excitement here in Italy when they announced the Rome, Italy temple. The members were crying and I don't think will ever stop talking about it... It was sooooo amazing to see their excitement! Many of them had their prayers finally answered that day. It is an experience that I will never forget."

Sorella Anderson is also serving in the south of Italy. "as you can all imagine, when we heard this, we were overwhelmed with joy. of course i was in tears. we (the other missionaries of my district) watched general conference in english on the computer in a room in the church. it was a moment we will never forget. two elders were watching conference in the main chapel in italian with branch members and they told us the room just exploded. can you imagine their joy? these sweet, faithful italian saints will have a temple. it is truly a miracle. the lord has answered many, many prayers and he knows that this country is ready for their own temple."

Elder Taylor is in northern Italy. "When President Monson started the announcement, I was thinking "Please Italy, please Italy." Then I was thinking, about halfway through, "If he says it, it will definitely be the last one." When he finally did, ... I had chills up and down my body, I would describe the feelings that it was as if my soul was shedding tears of joy. We are all so excited to see how the work explodes here, it will be truly amazing!"

Sorella Skabelund just got to the Rome Mission a few weeks ago. I worked with her in the MTC. "WE'RE GETTING A TEMPLE IN ROME!!!! Its incredible. It really, really is. You have no idea.... This is the biggest best thing that could happen to us as missionaries out here right now. In fact, the member program i was telling you about last week was called "operation temple". I'm also way excited cuz nobody believes us when we say that the work is really growing out here, that theres no such thing as a particularly difficult mission. Wow. Let me just tell you right now what it was like for us out here. I have never, ever, in my entire life seen something as sweet and wonderful as the rejoicing of the Italian saints, and I probably never will. I mean really... rejoicing. When the words "...and Rome, Italy" were uttered off of President Monson's lips, every heart in the room was turned to the Lord in thanksgiving. There was standing, shouting, crying, cheering... I have never felt the spirit in that way before. I never really understood what it would be like to not have a temple so convenient. I knew it would be unfortunate that I dont get to go to the temple for a year and half while Im here, but I forgot that the Italian saints only get to go to the temple a few times in their lives. Now they get to experience those blessings as often as they please. The Lord is so merciful!"

Barbara Ventura is a member in Rome who served her mission on temple square so her English is amazing. This is what she said about who this temple is for. "For all those that have been waiting, praying and hoping for this moment: the announcement of the Temple of the Lord in Rome Italy. For all those that will press forward in faith till the actual construction will take place. For all those that look forward to the building of the Temple in Rome, for the opportunity to attend it and serve in it...For all those who live/lived here, or would move here...For those that served in Italy, loved the people here, worked in this part of the Lord vineyard and still cherish it in their hearts....For all who rejoiced at Pres. Monson announcement of the Rome, Italy Temple."

There will be a temple in Italy. A temple in the beautiful city of Rome where I spent over 6 months of my life. A temple for the amazing Italian Saints that have remained so strong throughout these last thirty years. These people that mean so much to me will benefit from having THEIR temple on THEIR land in THEIR language. October 4th remains one of the best days of all days. And I will be there the day that temple in Rome Italy is dedicated. You can go here to find out more information and read more about the reactions of the Italians.

P.S. On October 4th, I also found out I am going to be an aunt. This day about killed me... SO EXCITED!!

Snow!

It's in the forecast for this weekend! 

Excited.

Ehem. Introducing...

Ladies and Gentlemen... introducing my Uncle Jim. Husband of Andrea, father of 5 kids, hospital administrator, very spiritual member of the high council. We've recently made him the family spokesperson... and mascot. I have nothing more to say.

Fall has fallen! Fell? Falled. No, fall has felled. Um... IT'S FALL!

I guess autumn doesn't have a catchphrase like spring. I wanted to say the fall version of "spring has sprung" but I might have failed miserably. The point is that evidences that trials* do in fact come to a close are all around us. (*Summer does end.) Changing leaves, cooling weather, sweaters and boots and scarves making appearances... it's beautiful. They're selling pumpkin candles and hot chocolate again. Christmas music is not far from being widely accepted (though it is always acceptable in my opinion, much to the chagrin of my mother) and I'm even making plans to get the days around Thanksgiving off, which means that Thanksgiving is close enough that I can do so. The sky is occasionally cloudy, there is rain in the forecast for this conference weekend and I, along with my whole family, am heading up to the cabin where the temperature is a perfect 57 degress. I can wear my flannel pajamas and fuzzy socks and sip soup and sit in front of the fire.

I am a strange individual in that I borderline despise the summer. Not the idea of summer per se but the weather. Call me crazy or you will but ever since I was a little girl, I have always loved the cold. I ache for rainy days, I delight at the thought of snow and when either is promised by the weatherman, I tend to rise out of bed grumpy if I see even a trace of sunshine. I just hate hot weather. Spring isn't as bad (though spring tends to attack me with terrible allergies) but basically I lament the end of winter and rejoice at the close of summer.

Thus the remodeling of this here blog. A Christmas background will appear most likely before Thanksgiving. What can I say? I'm a Christmas baby... it's in my blood. The picture at the top of the blog behind the title, by the way, is of a beautifully beaten path in Rome during autumn. Lovely.

Today has been a good day. I...

• ate an amazing nectarine for breakfast
• aced a tough British Literary History exam
• got a lot of homework done
• had great day at work
• figured out more what to do with my future
• talked to a very good missionary friend that I had lost contact with over a year ago who told me he plans on visiting soon
• got a letter from a beloved Italian member
• found out that you can change your facebook language to Pirate English
• watched a hilarious youtube video of Harry Potter meets the Office courtesy of Mel
• made a wonderful salad for dinner
• rode my bike everywhere
• got a voicemail from my mom

Good day.

So the real question is... the new background... I designed(ish) it.... you like?

Jones family dinners

I was up at home one night a few weeks ago and decided to stay for dinner. Dinner time with the Jones family is an absolute treat. Although we have been known to have conventional meals together, sometimes they are just off the wall. My mom usually cooks a nice meal but this time she didn't. The table is usually set but this time it wasn't. We usually end up laughing hysterically and this time was no exception.

Conventional Family: Sits down to nicely set table with matching cups, glasses, and cutlery. Mom pulls lid off of a steaming pot that smells like comfort and home-cooking. Dad remarks "it looks wonderful, dear." Mom answers, smiling, "I got the recipe at Enrichment."

Jones Family: Sits down to plastic plates and cups. Dad creates a distraction and exchanges his somewhat smaller fork for his Johnny's bigger fork. Johnny notices and protests. Lizzie wonders aloud as to why the size of the fork matters. Johnny, having lost the battle over the fork, begins to fret about the evening's menu. He claims to have heard a rumor from one of his sisters that clam chowder was on the menu and dramatically cries, "No! No no no! Not clam chowder, anything but clam chowder. If we have that, I'll probably die." The others chuckle and make mental notes to tease him about this statement for the remainder of his mortal life (and maybe longer). Mom assures him that it isn't going to kill him and puts food on the table. The children don't even flinch at the sight of frozen noodles (Mom cooked them, they were hot, she put them in the freezer to cool them down and forgot about them) and a somewhat burned sauce (Mom told Dad he was in charge of the sauce, he wasn't listening, assumed it was being watched by Mom... sauce burned). Lizzie claims to have burned something the day before and Mom sings her famous song, "I am rubbing off on you... rubbing rubbing off on you!" Everyone joins in and sings it in various octaves and with various uses of vibrato. Several place settings do not have cups at all but half a can of diet coke. Mom pulls out a can of pringles and puts it in the middle of the table. Kathy refers to them as crispy vegetables for the remainder of the meal.

Conventional Family: Dad calls on someone, who offers thanks to the Lord willingly. They begin to dish the food onto plates, rotating the dishes clockwise around the table and politely holding the pan or bowl as the next family member spoons the food.

Jones Family: Dad tries to call on someone to pray but no one hears him because they have all broken into a rousing chorus of the song "Let's Sing About Kathy". Once the singing has quieted, Dad asks Lizzie to pray. She asks if she can pray in Italian. This reminds Dad of the one song he remembers in Dutch, "The Wizard of Oz", and he begins to sing it in a high falsetto voice while the rest of the family bursts into laughter at this surprisingly random performance, clutching their sides and gasping for air. It takes several minutes for everyone to calm down. Lizzie giggles through a prayer in English as the rest of the family muffle snorts. Everyone begins to take food at random. Dad crumbles pringles over his noodles. Kathy gets up and goes to the fridge to make herself a "healthier" meal and then brags about it for five minutes. Johnny refuses to eat and reads the paper instead.

Conventional family: Have pleasant dinner conversation about the happenings of the day and how family, friends, and acquaintances are doing. Dad offers words of wisdom, Mom supports Dad, kids listen attentively and nod their approval at appropriate times and answer questions in detail when asked. 

Jones Family: Dad tries to talk about something profound and/or spiritual but no one can take him seriously because he continues to throw in silly remarks and everyone begins to tease everyone else mercilessly. Sarcasm abounds. Mom ends this tirade by throwing out her favorite trash talk line: "What is YOUR NAME!" The girls snicker. Dad tries to ask about how school is going. Johnny grunts answers. Everyone imitates Johnny's grunts for three minutes, laughing. Someone notices that Johnny is reading the obituary section of the newspaper. Mom raises an eyebrow and asks him why he is reading the obituaries. Johnny shrugs wordlessly and turns the page to the opinion section. Kathy tells the family about a particularly hard professor she has who requires students to bring in an obituary if they claim to miss class due to a death in the family. This starts a tangent of conversation that naturally leads to the family into talking in detail about kidney stones. Kathy claims to have had half a kidney stone the other day. Family roars with laughter. Kathy is upset and claims she is serious. 

Conventional Family: Finish the pleasant meal with gracious thanks to Mom. Everyone excuses themselves and clears off their own plate. Kids begin doing the dishes together without being asked. Mom and Dad smile at each other and at their lovely children that are dressed so smartly and look so sharp. 

Jones Family: Begin laughing at a story involving their oldest brother Danny and his claim over ten years previous to have been in "perfect physical condition"- decide to call the oldest brother's wife to tell her about it. Everyone pulls out their individual cellphone and have a race to see who can call Danny's phone first. Johnny, who still hasn't eaten anything besides a pringle, wins. Lizzie, Dad, and Kathy proceed to call Danny's phone and Johnny's phone several times throughout the conversation between the two brothers, leaving long and obnoxious messages, usually involving various poorly executed accents from around the world. Once Johnny is off the phone, a contest begins to see who can throw their empty paper plate closest to the garbage. Mom glares her disapproval. Mom begins to wonder aloud at Kathy's outfit (mismatched boots, black leggings, a flowered skirt recently procured from thrift town that looks like it may or may not have belonged to a homeless Hawaiian, a plaid vest, and polka-dotted scarf tied around her head) and Kathy, not wanting to be made fun of alone, points out Lizzie's outfit (a long gray skirt, black nylons, red tennis shoes, and an over sized yellow sweatshirt) claiming that hers isn't nearly as bad. Lizzie argues that she's just come from work and was cold and then rounds on Johnny, reminding everyone of his favorite outfit as a four-year-old (cowboy vest and boots, sweatpants, superman cape, stretchy headband around his neck, with a Tigger hat complete with tail and a blanket that had recently been removed from the fridge) but Johnny protests, ordering everyone to stop talking about what he used to dress like and how much had changed in eleven years. Kathy throws her napkin at Johnny's nose. He gets up and begins to chase her around the house. Lizzie follows, as does Jack the dog, barking loudly. Dad goes to the living room to read a book. Mom goes downstairs to watch Law and Order all alone with a huge bag of dill flavored sunflower seeds. 

Don't you wish you could come?

Disclaimer: My parents ARE able to cook well, we DO have dishes at our house, my mom keeps our home VERY clean... but dinners typically are very silly and loud and end in a wrestling match. Just so you know. 

Fer Kaffy...

I'm upset right now. I am in the midst of helping plan my sister Kathy's trip to Italy... a trip I am not going on. Ohhhh jealous. These pictures are to get Kathy excited (this is easier than sending them all individually to her) and to tell her what to expect. The rest of you can enjoy them too and marvel at the fact that I lived in Italy for a year and a half... and that your tithing helped me get there. :)

Obvious what this is. About 2 hours after landing in Italy.

View from that church in Florence where the monks sing. I took this standing inside the front hall.

Rainstorms. Crazy. Bring an umbrella.... or don't.

You'll see old men like this. And you'll want to hug them.

The Vatican. Christmas Eve.

Remember when I told you all about Moses and William? William is on the left, Moses on the right. This is the day Moses baptized William. They live in PRATO (go there!)

Prato!

Pisa. (Borrowed some of these from people I served with.)

Maybe you'll see this guy.

Tuscany in winter.

View from Piazza Michelangelo- that place below the church where the monks sing.

I call this one "Vatican vs. Sorella Jones"

Castle in the middle of Prato.

Cinqueterre.

Tuscan sunflowers.

River in Pisa.

Cinqueterre again.

Aren't you excited, Kath? Uggghhh, I hate you for going without me...

Inspirer? Really?

You Are An ENFP

The Inspirer You love being around people, and you are deeply committed to your friends. Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships. You give a lot in relationships. Sometimes you idealize relationships too much - and end up being let down. When you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop. People are important to you. At work, you need to do something that expresses your personal values. You are a natural leader. You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, teacher, or artist. How you see yourself: compassionate, spiritual, and understanding When other people don't get you, they see you as: unrealistic, emotional, and unfocused

ENFP stands for Extroverted iNtuitive Feeling Perceiving. They are described as introverted feeling and extroverted acting, which I think is fairly true of me. I love people but I have my moments when I just need to process things alone. But I don't like to be alone always. People are a central part of my life. I took this twice and once it told me I was extroverted and once it told me I was introverted. I think it depends on how I'm feeling that day. Click here or here to read more about ENFPs and INFPs respectively. I am shocked at how they are accurate (for the most part...)in describing my personality.

What's Your Personality Type?

Some jeep thinking...

Today my cousin Molly and our friend Chris decided to take a bike ride and needed someone to take them to the top of Squaw Peak so they could ride down. Chris has a very new and very nice gold jeep and promised me dinner at my favorite italian restaurant if I'd take them up and then drive his jeep down. I pretended to take my time answering him by sighing and shrugging and saying, "Okay, I guess..." when in my head I was crying "duh!" It was gorgeous up there! And really really fun to drive his jeep down. The weather was amazing today, the fall colors were incredible, and the view from the mountain was splendid. Driving down the canyon with the cold wind whipping my hair and the smell of pine all around inspired some jeep thoughts... 

View from atop Squaw Peak. Fall has always been my favorite time of year (besides Christmas) and driving in my buddy Rubicon made it much more enjoyable. 

Bellissimo!

I love the mountains, I love the rolling hills, I love the.... something.... I love the daffodils... duh duh duh duh duh duh, duh duh duh duh duh duh... boomdeeyada boomdeeyada boomdeeyada boomdeeyay. (Eh... so I don't remember all the words... so what?) 

My new best friend, Rubicon.  (Stop being jealous.) It was funny driving around in him... it was a fun day. 

Scapbooking... craft of the devil.

So I wrote this my freshman year while living in the dorms and just found it. It is still true.

Scrapbooking… the craft of the devil. In my opinion, it should be the newest curse word in the English language. “Scrapbooker” should become the newest insult and “oh scrapbook it” should be considered profane. After what I have seen and experienced, never again will I allow this word to be casually spoken in my presence. To type it is a struggle in and of itself. Why you ask? I, although very un-crafty myself, do in fact enjoy the fruits of the labors of others and will even at times participate. Why should I have such poignant and open hatred for such a craft? Because I have seen what it does. I have seen its gruesome effects… particularly on the female gender. I have seen the price that has been paid… no no no… not just the huge amounts of money but the SOULS that have been lost.

These poor girls are under so much pressure to record every part of their lives, and not just in colorful pens and construction paper. Would that it were so! Forsooth, it is so much more than that. These books become a representation of their cuteness, their likeability, their self-worth, their marriageability...in their confused minds they think that if they fail at this, they fail at all that is important in life. These groups of girls are so wrapped up in this so-called "hobby" that their lives are turning into meaningless puddles of nothingness. I would like to relate to you a very real and terrifying experience I had with one such female group.

Their names were Heather, Karen, Danni, and Erika. They lived on my floor. They were sweet girls. They were cute girls. They were fun girls. But it got a hold of them. It started off small and simple…slow at the beginning. But I suppose that it is by small and simple things that great and terrible things are brought to pass. They started off with normal harmless cardstock… solid black. Who can go wrong? A sticker or two here, a stencil or two there. Just to spruce up the page a little. Just to make it a little cuter. But it was never enough. It was never ever enough. Die-cuts came into play (now that is a foreshadowing term- die-cuts) Then came vellum. What in the world is vellum, you ask? They didn’t know either until this fever came upon them. Paper cutters of various sizes. Hole punches. Fiskars scissors with crazy edges. Ribbons, bows, markers, crayons, pencils, pens. They were all purchased by the box, by the case, by the carload. And then came the supplies that only advanced and exceedingly corrupted scrapbookers use: eyelets, brads, glitter, stamps, embossers, templates, magic mesh, scrap metals, little metal flowers and figurines that have no purpose in life but to drive a people mad... it never ended. It was all stuffed into to plastic sheet protectors and clamped into so many books. The money could not be put across the counter quick enough. In their eyes they got a hungry stare as they looked around searching for angles and ideas and staging perfect photographs that fit their mental images. Mental images. It became an addiction. They had to enter the scrapbooking store at least once a day to satisfy the craving. Thousands of colors and designs. Hundreds of dollars. Dozens of books.

It was sad, truly sad. They would cut out hundreds of tiny little dots by hand and paste them one by one until 4.32 hours later they had finally spelled “Ward Social: Pizza Night” across the top of the page. "Why not use stickers?" you ask. "Why not write it by hand?" you wonder. “BECAUSE,” they answer… “IT NEEDS A PERSONAL TOUCH.” Making four thousand seven hundred and twenty one tiny pieces of pizza to tape one by one around the edge of the paper for the border… ignoring the paper for which they had paid $4.48 that already had the pizza border design… they needed the work. They needed the pain. You approach them cautiously and ask to see what they're working on. They shove the pizza page in your face. “Smell here! The tomatoes stickers smell like real tomatoes!” “Press this button! You can here this baker singing while he kneads this realistic dough!” “Pull the tab! The oven really heats up and burns you!” It is an illness. One that cannot be cured by any program or any miracle drug. It is an epidemic.

I walk in one afternoon to check on their status. I haven’t seen Heather, Karen, Danni, or Erika for two and a half weeks. Not in class. Not in church. Not even at meals. I hear a low murmur as I approach room 237. Monotone demands. “Glue stick.” “Glue gun.” “Paper Cutter.” “Hammer.” I slowly take a deep breath and knock on the door softly. No answer. I open it up. What I see causes my stomach to turn. The girls are sprawled on the floor. The beds and desks and sinks have been piled up in one corner of the room… they must have gotten in the way. Bedding, clothes, shoes, and everything else that has nothing to do with scrapbooking had been thrown out the window. The Josh Groban CD had been skipping for the past 8 days. “You’re st… st… st… still… y… you’re…y..y..you’re still y…y..y..y..y..you…. you’re sti…sti..sti…sti….” The four girls (if you can even call them girls) look up at me with squinted blood-shot eyes, unaccustomed to the natural light. The murmuring stopped. They all quickly jump to their feet. I’m shocked by their agility considering the fact that they hadn’t stood in two weeks. After a second or two of their legs getting used to supporting weight again, they approach me their eyes searching me up and down. Karen gets out a camera and begins taking pictures one by one. “This is for my ‘when Lizzie came in the room’ page,” she keeps repeating in a haunted voice. Danni tears at my sweater, asking if it is acid free, demanding I give it to her so she can add “texture” to her "what my closet looks like today" page. Erika is cutting my hair and pasting it to a picture she has of me, claiming it needs to be more “realistic.” She then starts taping things to my face while muttering “Too much empty space, too much empty space.” Now Heather comes after me with a paper cutter and scissors telling me that I'm all off balance. She saws at my elbow yelling “UNEVEN! THIS IS NOT A GOOD EDGE! UN-EV-EN!” Danni grabs me from behind and tries to shove a plastic sheet cover over my head, laughing hysterically. Karen is still taking pictures of the entire scene, cackling insanely while listing off all the scrapbook pages she plans to make. Erika slaps a sticker across my forehead that says “Mommy’s Little Princess” and begins pinning bows in my hair. Heather has collapsed on the group and is hunched over her scrapbooks, sobbing so hard that her cries and mutterings are indiscernible. I scream and beat them off with a hammer Erika had been using to try to pound eyelets into my arm. In desperation, I grab one of the completed scrapbooks and threaten to rip it unless they get away. They all burst into tears and collapse on the floor and I run out. Within seconds, their chanting continues. “Glue stick.” “Glue gun.” “Paper Cutter.” “Hammer.”

Something has to be done about scrapbooking…. the craft of the Devil.

Just some funnies...

My brother and sister-in-law have a bunch of these mock-inspirational posters hanging up in their house. I love them. 

Best and Worst

Two years ago, I started carrying around a small little leather journal I bought in Florence, Italy. I call it my "happy list." Periodically, I'd take it out and write down something that made me happy. I couldn't find it for a long time but my book and I were reunited at the beginning of the summer. I now have 1,316 entries. I figured I'd pick my top twenty (and I had to be really selective, I have a lot of favorite things) and post them. I also posted ten things that I really really DON'T like. 

Top Twenty Favorite Things:

1-drinking Italian amaretto hot chocolate in front of a fire at the cabin while it's snowing or raining outside

2- basically anything to do with Italy or my mission

3- African music

4- witty banter

5- cold or rainy weather

6- discussing ideas or reminiscing with people

7- the feeling after completing something that was really hard to do

8- being with people- having good conversation

9- reading anything about Robin Hood

10- my little cousins

11- going to the cabin

12- feeling like I'm important to someone

13- anything to do with Christmas

14- the comfort of home: silliness and safety and being with my siblings and my parents

15- feeling passionate about something

16- the mountains

17- unexpected compliments

18- Italian lasagna

19- my testimony

20- the song "How Firm a Foundation"

Top ten things I despise more than I can articulate:

1. Satan

2. snakes- I can't handle them. Rodents and insects and spiders wouldn't faze me in the slightest. But snakes completely freak me out.

3. the movie version of the book Ella Enchanted, which is one of my favorite books (the movie makes me so upset - it had a terrible script, even worse acting, and ruined the story) 

4. mayonnaise or mustard on anything

5- hot weather-it makes me grumpy

6- feeling grumpy or upset

7- negativity

8- bad missionaries

9- shopping

10- split pea soup