Not Home for Christmas

Two years ago in school they told us to enjoy our Christmas breaks cause once we were done with school they would become something we will miss. Now that I am here in Arizona and not home in Texas I am trying to re-define the definition of "home" into a term that feels right. This time last year I was home with everyone which turned out to be a little more complicated than we had anticipated but still wonderful. "Home forChristmas" pulls up images of a delightfully ecliptic tree covered in 28 years of mismatched ornaments, Parker Square decked out in lights and a giant 3.5 story tree, the driveway lined with a string of mostly intact not-yet-run-over lights, constant bickering over whose turn it was to play on the piano, Muppet's Christmas Carol, and 8 of my most favorite people on the planet gathered around the fireplace laughing at something simple and ridiculous.

Still, if I'm being strictly honest I have to say that Texas is no longer home in the strictest sense of the word, namely, that I don't live there and I probably won't be living there for at the very least a few years. I also can't say my entire family is there as I have so much extended family here, plus several siblings and a nephew in Utah. But until Arizona feels like Texas use to, I will continue to be a Texan. This means that at least this year I will have a wonderful and magical Christmas with all kinds of family members here in the world of decorated cacti, but I will not be home for Christmas.

I use to think that being away for the holidays would make me hopelessly homesick and lonely, and as I call home and talk to my sisters and brother and parents and hear the sounds of home filtering through the line I have to admit I do feel nostalgic and more than a little envious, but really, I am alright. I am surrounded by people who I love and who love me. I am busy with work and church and the delight that comes with being alive in this amazing world. I'm not home for Christmas but I'm happy and healthy and excited to spend Christmas here where I am. I may be home for Christmas in my dreams, but in reality I am here, and it is a pretty good gig too.

For unto us comes good tidings of great joy--Christ was born. He really came. How amazing is it that through the power of perfect love and obedience Jesus Christ was able save all of creation that would accept his matchless gift? The battle against sin and evil must have been as good as won as soon as he was born for the heavens to pour out and celebrate the victory of all of salvation. I'd like to think that on that night when the shepherds suddenly overwhelmed by numerous concourses of angles that the gates of heaven somehow could not hold back the joy and anticipation and triumph that ruled the pre-mortal realm that day. How amazing is it that a loving God would grant such a present as his own Son on that first of all Christmases to someone so weak and faulty as me? The promise of the whole human race was held in young Mary's arms that night as she too spent that first Christmas far from home. It truly is wonderful that He should die for me and you and all of us. Merry Christmas. No matter where you spend it, what an amazing holiday to celebrate the most amazing of all gifts ever given to anyone anywhere.

Yay for bodies!

I have been blessed with a body. Sure I have frizzy hair that has a frightening resemblance to a dishwater-colored bush, skin that somehow manages to be both oily and dry, short stubby legs, a rather unfortunate mole right on my chin, scrawny stick arms, and hind-quarters that are awkwardly out of proportion to the rest of my body, but still I am grateful for my body. I love the way it moves--the perfect symmetry of ambulation, the glide of tendons and skin over swollen knuckles, and the continuous swell and deflation of lungs 8 to 20 times per minute of every day. I love the tension of a stretch and the ache of a workout. I love the freedom to get from one place to another without setup or facilitation, the confidence of balance and stability that I don't have to even think about. I love the feeling of the world passing on either side as I run or swim or dance or walk or skip or spin toward my future. The healthy human heart pumps nearly 700,000 gallons of blood per year, the average kidney filters 45 gallons a day, the average 80 year old has walked a total of 108,131 miles--that's equal to walking around the equator 4.3 times. Those are amazing numbers! The human body really is an amazing gift and while I don't always treasure or even appreciate mine, I am certainly grateful for it. 

I work every day with people whose bodies don't work quite like mine. They don't have the ability to pump 700,000 gallons of blood a year or walk with symmetry and safety, they lack the freedom to move their body smoothly and easily from one place to another and often lack the confidence to try. I work with people in constant pain and with limited abilities, people who have to work much harder and still have less success to do the same things I do. When surrounded by a background like this how can I be anything but grateful and awed by God's gift of a mortal body and even more grateful for the impending resurrection when we will all walk and move and succeed together? I think too, as part of being grateful and as part of being cautions that I can maintain my freedom, symmetry, and safety I will continue to move--to dance and play and work and run and smile and stretch and contract. I want to get every one of my 108,131 miles in after all.

Grateful

As always, order is more of a stream of conscious and is in no way indicative of my level of gratitude for said whatever. Also, just because something is not here doesn't mean I am not grateful for it, it merely means I didn't think of it before I hit 100.

1 - The gospel of Jesus Christ
2 - My testimony of the gospel
3 - My parents
4 - My siblings
5 - Dark chocolate
6 - The atonement
7 - My grandparents--both sides; who knew that 2 families so very different would both set such amazing examples in following the gospel
8 - My aunts and uncles and cousins
9 - the piano and all the lessons mom and dad paid for
10- the temple
11- my mission
12- my amazing missionary companions and mission presidents
13- my job at the rehab facility
14- my job with the kids--I love those little guys!
15- the scriptures
16- Seminary
17- Institute
18- tulips
19- the smells of Christmas: cinnamon, pine, and sugar cookies
20- french toast with boysenberry syrup
21- fresh towels out of the dryer
22- playing the viola
23- my AMAZING Spokane friends--I miss them almost daily
24- my car--she still has "lots of life in her" according to the professionals
25- watching football
26- running in the early evening when the families and kids and the sun are all still out
27- chocolate oatmeal caramel cookies--my favorite favorite
28- dryer sheets
29- CDs with the words printed on the inside so you can sing along
30- Blue jeans--bestest most comfortable pants there are
31- hugs. I LOVE a good hug
32- singing in the shower where the acoustics are the best
33- Spirit airline that lets me fly home for super cheap
34- my mom's obsession for frugality that I also inherited
35- blankets
36- wind, especially when it carries the smell of rain
37- my PB
38- the prophet
39- slipper socks--best foot cover there ever was
40- mint-chocolate flavored lip gloss
41- Joseph Smith and his courage
42- Open-faced extra-crunchy-low-fat-peanut-butter and honey sandwiches
43- Relief Society
44- my brand new perfect baby nephew
45- country music
46- Texas--my home
47- Tex the dog
48- Texas the pseudo-nation
49- skunk smell--one of my favorites
50- running barefoot in fresh cut grass
51- general conference
52- colors--especially purple
53- a body that can do what I need it to do
54- my bishopric and stake president
55- rainstorms
56- that we don't have to wear nylons anymore
57- that I grew up in a family where the gospel was the center
58- growing up protected from the influences of the world
59- computers
60- cell phones
61- my education and all the amazing people who helped me get here
62- high heels
63- cantalope
64- washing machines
65- electricity
66- Music
67- Jane Austen
68- laughing
69- smiling
70- brownies
72- easy-to-fix curly hair
73- medium rare steak
74- good vision so that I don't have to wear glasses
75- the smell of eggs cooking
76- Reading good books
77- Having a church I can go to every week
78- Happiness
79- agency
80- cold water--sooo refreshing!
81- Hope
82- prayer
83- springtime
84- the Holy Ghost
85- the woods in Vancouver
86- sleeping
87- chick flicks teehee
88- dancing like a wild woman when no one is watching
89- all the wonderful people I met during my travels last year
90- the sacrament
91- mascara because without it I look like a man
92- service
93- the sound of a child laughing
94- my parent's eternal marriage
95- sweet snap peas
96- Christmas music
97- clavicle--my favorite bone
98- fuzzy sweatshirts in the winter time
99- the sound of rain hitting my window
100-The grace of God that allows me to do things I never otherwise could dream of.

I am so blessed! Truly really, what a wonderful world God has given us, and what a wonderful life mine is.

Resilient

Some things shatter when they pretzel,
but Gumby ends up alright;
others stain in murky refuse
but ducks stay clean and white.
And darkness blinds and frightens others
while owls can see at night.

Rubber bands bounce back in place
where tendons strain and snap
and green wood wickers when you want
where bones will bend and crack.
For seasons, fads, and lies return
but some things won’t come back.

Maim me I mar, bend me I break
I’m more fragile than I show.
There’s a limit to what I can take
as I have come to know.
Still transformation where much’s at stake
will resilient me as I grow.

So till my shatter in sheer array
I'll bend and bend again
to live at least one glorious day
the lithe life learned by man.

Why I am still Single

While it is an established truth that few things are more irritating than being asked "Why are you still single?" This is something I have recently had reason to reflect on briefly and I officially have made a decision. For the record, I strongly believe that I am NOT single because a loving Heavenly Father wants me to be single.

I agree that there are many lessons I have to learn and that God has the wonderful ability to make any situation a wonderful one that will help me to learn the things He wants me to learn. However, I do not believe that He is purposely keeping me single until I learn those lessons. I also do not believe that He has one specific person for me to marry that He is waiting to "introduce me to", I don't believe He has some master blue-print that requires that I remain single until 32 years and 5 months in order to match evenly with some quota, and I do not believe He levies singlehood as a punishment for some misdeed.

I am mostly likely single because of a combination of circumstance, personality quirks, decisions I made, and decisions of those around me. Because Heavenly Father loves me He has been able to make my life something wonderful and exciting. He accomplished this not by manipulating my life such that I stay single, but by working with the life that I have and sending me more blessings than I will ever deserve. He loves me, and I love Him and He will not give up on me. Still I hold strong to the belief that while God is the reason I am happy while I am single, He is not the reason I am single while I am happy.

But... I still love chocolate...

I am a dark chocolate lover--the darker the better. I eat all the dark chocolate mini's that everyone else avoids, my chocolate milk usually looks more like coffee, and I rarely to eat ice cream unless it has some sort of rich chocolate flavor. At the risk of being repetitive, I am a dark chocolate lover.

That doesn't mean I hate all things vanilla, cause I don't. I wouldn't turn down vanilla ice cream on a chocolate brownie (though I'd still prefer the chocolate) and I do like a little bit of vanilla squirted into my root beer when I visit the fountain drink, but I can't think of anything vanilla flavored I prefer over its chocolate counterpart except... nope, there isn't anything.

But here's the rub--sometimes, vanilla is just better for you. Sometimes it's easier to come by. Why does it seem like vanilla is always available... always the one that picks me while I dream longingly of chocolate? I do know that too much of a good thing is just that--too much. I once nibbled on a corner of a 99% cocoa chocolate bar and it was awful--even as I write this sentence my face is crinkling at the memory I wish I could forget. Somehow even after that I still choose chocolate over vanilla every singly time. Maybe though, it's time for my taste to mature. They say that your tastes can change with age, and maybe it's time to find the virtue in vanilla. After all, vanilla is sweet and smooth and pleasant. It's just not exciting. I grew up on chocolate and peanut butter and almond brickle and fireworks, so vanilla is just a little bit of a let down. I grew up with flying dinner rolls, green eggs and ham, family dances complete with air guitar tennis rackets, water fights, and the perfect concentration of dark chocolate. These treasured memories don't make vanilla wrong, they just make it... vanilla.

And no matter what I try and do, it seems I can't give up my dreams of chocolate, even in the face of high-quality vanilla that is both readily available and eager to be tasted.

What can I do? I am in love with chocolate.

New Job

I recently started a new job in a rehab center/nursing home facility. I love my job. Obviously there are days that I feel like will never end and there are people I would just as soon not work with some days (for example the naked 300+ pound man I walked in on the other day. Not great), but all in all, work is wonderful.

There is something magic about watching people get stronger, watching their face when the turn and see how far they walked for the first time in weeks or longer. I love the feeling of watching someone stand up when they thought they couldn't, or the look of surprise when they were able to safely transition from their chair to their bed without a mechanical lift. Empowerment is a majestic virtue.

I also find that I enjoy the feeling that, to my surprise, more often than not I do know what I'm doing. Although I still feel like some days I have to make it up as I go along, for the most part I feel capable and in control. I have had lots of training, and if I stay smart and don't hurt myself I can enjoy this profession for many years to come.

Best of all though, I love working with the elderly population. For them, words like "hard work", "honor", and "independence" mean something that perhaps my own generation has not yet grasped. To listen to their experiences and to learn from their examples is a valuable training by itself, but to watch them work through constant pain and aches that I cannot even begin to conceptualize or understand is inspiring. I can be a better person. I can work harder, run longer, figure out more of my own problems, and appreciate better the good things in my life because the people I am suppose to be helping are teaching me to do so. What an amazing profession!