Living the Dream I Never Knew I Needed

Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Life Review : Education/Career Part 1

So as per usual I fell out of habit in posting on my blog but I have to say looking back on this time last year or rather a little over a year ago has been pretty enlightening for me. It has given me perspective and a point to which I was able to gauge my progress in the journey I've taken physically, spiritually, and emotionally over the last year.

I posted July 7, 2012 Goals and Future Plans which was an assignment for a class. I ended up finding this list today and was very pleased with it. To save time to follow the link I will just quote the post below:

Education/Career

v Get my Masters in Social Work (MSW)

v Get my LCSW (Licensed Clinical Social Work)

v Get a PhD. (unknown subject)

v Teach

v Be a counselor/jack of all trades

v Enjoy what I do and learn

v Never stop learning

Personal/Family

v Be happy

v Be sealed in the temple

v Be a mother

v Have a comfortable home

v Be close with my family

v Be a part of my nieces’ (and possibly nephews’) lives

v Be temple worthy

Miscellaneous

v Travel Europe/world

v Be spontaneous

v Go somewhere I don’t speak the language and immerse myself in the culture

While not all of these things have been accomplished and some are perpetual goals of life that do not have a beginning or end - I am pleased to mention the great strides I have taken in my life.

First let's start with Education and Career.

This has been my prime focus for much of the last six years and of the last year to exclude the most recent 4 months.

I moved home to Florida for the FAU Advanced Standing MSW program in July and started in August. This took nine months to complete and was a very different nine months than I had expected. Moving home is a difficult task that many an adult student/professional has had to face in our current economy and culture. While I have to say I did not handle my grief well for the loss of my independence, in retrospect I am able to say how immensely grateful I am for a family and parents who bore with me through the emotional roller coaster of grad school and my mourning period.

Now that might seem dramatic but it truly was a death and a birth period. It was nine months of what seemed like a fight against the support system that was getting me through this hard time - a fight I thought I was having with my parents and my God. In reality it was as Enos said, "I will tell you of the wrestle which I had before God". I may have taken my frustrations and doubts out on God or my parents but they were just scapegoats for who I was really battling...ME.

Coming home I saw all the things I didn't have so that I struggled to see the blessings in my life. I was becoming bitter and damned. Stopped in my progress by transference. Blaming everyone else for my circumstances and stresses. I stopped wearing my covenants on my sleeve and began to wear my bitterness like it was in Vogue.

I didn't shift into the world of overt sin but rather the subtle complacency of standing still. I knew that turning 180 degrees from the gospel to worldly pleasures wouldn't cure the emptiness, so I never ventured there, but I also wasn't willing to walk the road to peace either.

So I was kicking against the pricks trying to desperately grasp at meaning and purpose in my life while working through a Master's program I was disengaged from. But I was pleasantly surprised by the amazing and insightful people I met through the program. The curriculum may have fallen short of expectations but the people in some cases far exceeded it.

On my first day of class I sat down in a room full of strangers and wondered how I would make it through the next year. But as it turns out the Lord is aware of us and is preparing our path before we realize we are on one. Dr. Diaz had us all introduce ourselves and I was wondering if I would mention the whole Mormon thing. Mostly because I didn't want to be stereotyped right away (we like to think it doesn't happen in a room full of social workers who are teaching clients to embrace what makes them unique and find meaning in life - but hey we are human and it does). So I mentioned BYU-Idaho because I am proud of what I accomplished/who I became there and most people associate Mormons with Utah. I am also proud of being a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints or a Mormon, my hope is that people can see those parts of me that make me who I am are entwined with what I believe. We sometimes get caught up in labels and the lies we have come to believe about them. And at that point I believed some lies about the label because of that battle inside of me.

So any who - Doctor Who (just a little thing a friend and I love to do when coming off a tangent). I introduced myself and anxiously pondered how I would be received. We had a break come up and I wondered how I would pass the next 15 minutes - everyone seemed to know each other from Undergrad or from the MSW program. We were a mix of advanced standing, full time, and part time MSW students. So as I wrestled inside over making new friends like a middle school girl who moves to a new town after Christmas break, I reached for my lunch to get distracted by my comfort food. As I came back up, there was Kim just brimming with excitement to ask me what ward I was in. Kim happened to sit in the seat to my right. She was a gift from Heaven - no really - the path I was on was so arranged by God it is ridiculous.

Just a brief history about Kim - she is a widow. Now this is not the defining quality of her life but it is an experience that has directed her path. She went to BYU, graduated, and married her husband who would at some point become a sports writer for the Sun Sentinel. They had 3 kids with the greatest hair you will ever see. He got cancer and after a rough battle died. It was roller coaster of emotions and experiences that happened through the cancer and after his death. This brief history will not do him or her justice and I'm sorry for that. She raised their children to be unique, strong, and outside the box kind of people (unless we are thinking Doctor Who because then they are inside the box "because its bigger on the inside"). When her daughter and youngest child got to high school she went back to school and did the part time MSW program, but just prior to our meeting had switched to the full-time program.

So this meant we would be taking the same classes and eventually graduate together in May.

After she told me her name and ward I immediately texted the two people I had known the longest and who seem to be into everything, which means they know everyone. Sister Delgado and Sister Otting. I was doing my research and checking up on her. The next chance we had to talk she mentioned them and I said I had already texted them. They were the two people she knew from my ward and was shocked to realize that I had already contacted them.

Now this might seem silly but this is one of the greatest comforts I could have received from God. She helped me throughout the program and I am grateful beyond words but if I only had that day it would have been enough. What I mean is that it showed me God knew me and as much as I had been feeling shaky in my faith and life direction He was there.

Okay maybe that is a lie - that it was enough. I say that now in retrospect and at the time I recognized God's hand in it but I sometimes let doubt cloud memory of it. Through out the nine months that followed our meeting I fluctuated drastically on the scale of faith. My first semester was laced with - okay it was dripping in bitterness. But after Christmas break I decided to change my appearance because I was dressing like I felt - a bum. And I decided instead to dress like I wanted to be confident and proud. I put on make up and a smile. I wasn't doing the "fake it 'til you make it" thing. I was making an active choice to change and stand my ground. And that is not fake. I would like to say that by time I was done with school I was happy, secure, and amazingly strong in my conviction. I wasn't I was exhausted, confused, and ready for an escape. But I graduated, I accomplished my goal. I made friends, comrades to commiserate with and met a supervisor who to this day helps guide me. Not out of duty but out of desire and pure awesomeness.

I took an escape after I graduated because I needed it. I backpacked Europe and was still fluctuating in faith and learning to live. It was a two month adventure I will address in another chapter/post. NOW I'm home and have been for two months. I thought I would have a job now because of the promises made at my internships prior to graduation but in a series of what seems like unfortunate events non of those have come to pass. I'm living at home, unemployed, and seeking. Seeking a job, a purpose, and meaning.

For a while I thought I was waiting on paper work and processing but now I know that it was just a cover God created to give me time to work on all those things I pushed to the wayside as I was bulldozing my way through life with a laser focus view on my education. So where is my life according to that chart:

Education/Career

v Get my Masters in Social Work (MSW) - (C)heck Yes!

v Get my LCSW (Licensed Clinical Social Work) - no job so no money to start this but working on finding a supervisor

v Get a PhD. (unknown subject)- dude I need a job! But if I go Ph.D I want to be a story teller.

v Teach - When I put this I meant academically but I have had a chance to use my education to influence my calling in Young Womens and do presentations.

v Be a counselor/jack of all trades - working on the jack of all trades part - currently party planning (Yay! 50th anniversary Doctor Who party)

v Enjoy what I do and learn - constant process but learning with help of great friends

v Never stop learning - no job means more time to read.

You thought you were going to hear about all the successes the past year and as I recently learned "the dancer and the dance are hopelessly entwined". You come to the joy at the top of the mountain not in spite of the harrowing trek but because of it. And you fight your way up again and again because it is only in opposition, when we are stretched to capacity, that we find within ourselves the truth. Every great doubt or failing we fear is within us is matched by the opposing reality of the capacity for greatness which not only equals but exceeds our perceived shortcomings.

Even when the path we are on seems a great distance from where we thought we'd be or hoped, it is exactly where we need to be if we will but look with new eyes not as a victim of circumstance but as an opportunist (though allow me a more principled view of the term). Take advantage of where you land and soak up all the knowledge, experience, and good fortune of an unexpected journey. Read a book, make a new friend, reconnect with old ones, but more importantly disconnect from the expectations and false assumptions, so you can reconnect with you.

My Education has shifted from external and academic to the internal and existential. I am figuring out myself and facing fears I let direct my life. I am taking the wheel quite literally. This is a journey and I'm not taking it alone. I know I've got friends and family who love me and a God who will guide me.

Things I've found that are helping me through this: Comfort in the like minded but radically more cool
Found this recently and realized my perceived career path may not be what I want or need.

Fell in love with TED Talks: Found amazing women who change the perception of what social workers do. Its not about limiting us but about changing the way we live. Being okay with vulnerability and understanding shame enough to move forward.

Tuesday, July 17, 2012

My Graduation Announcements!!!!!!!!

Family Scrapbook Video other Family History Things

So I finally got access to my blog again...who knew I connected every account I have to needing my phone to work...changing that from now on.

So a few things I wanted to add to the blog were things from Oma and Grandma Bernice

Ancestral Histories:

Emilie Herta Heinze

A few years ago prior to going on my mission I posted in my blog about a trip I took to Germany. The post is as follows:

“Germany was not at all what I expected. It was not a vacation of sights but stories. I spent most days from 9am-9pm in a nursing home room playing sudoku watching my grandma (Granny) taking care of her mom (Oma). Oma was never really there. She is 89 and her body and mind are mangled by the devastating effects of Parkinsons. Everyone she loved, husband, friends, brothers and sisters (1O) are gone. Friends who are left are in the same sad state. At this point though she doesn’t remember them. She rarely recalls who my Granny is. Yet each Sunday my Granny calls her from her home in Kansas to talk to her so that even though she may not know her, she knows she is not alone. I think even though she lives mostly in her head, until the constant pain with which she exists causes her to cry out to any one who is there to listen, I think some times all we want is to know we are not alone.” (3 Sept 2009)

So this experience was at the end of Oma’s life, she was trapped in her body and her mind was gone. She was a shell of who she once was and I wanted to know who she was really. The following is from information gained from stories told during the long hours at Oma’s bedside and a recent interview of her daughter Burga Hudson (Granny).

So who was Emilie Herta Heinz, she was a survivor, a mother, a daughter, a dancer, and a world traveler. Emilie was born in Oberthomasdorf on the 28^th of September 1920. She was the youngest of 10 living children. There were 2 boys and 8 girls. Oberthomasdorf was part of Czechoslovakia which had been created 2 years prior to her birth. Life for her as the youngest child was difficult. Her mother was not very affectionate and this distance reflected in her own relationship with her own daughter.

Her life and childhood were that of staunch German life. Her life was one of hard labor. When she was in her early twenties she worked as a farm hand and a waitress at the restaurant on the farm. According to Burga, “She helped on the farm and then worked as a waitress when needed. There she met my father who was playing the harmonica. My mother dated him for a short time and got pregnant with me. He was transferred to another place before I was born. My mother filled out the papers and he paid child support, which my mother put in the bank... My mother found out that his parents had a secondhand store but she wanted no contact with him after she found out so many things about him.”

So she met a man and had a child. Her siblings thought this an affront to their catholic upbringing and this influenced Burga’s life forever. Emilie liked the name Veronica for her daughter but her sisters thought the child need a good Catholic name to help counteract the circumstances of her birth so the named her for a German catholic saint Walburga. She became known affectionately as Burgi or Burga.

When Burga was a year and a half old her half brother Alois Heinz Nistler was born 23 April 1944 in hospital in Freiwaldau. His father was born 24 June 1921 in Adelsdorf near Freiwaldau. They married 28 September 1944 in Oberthomasdorf. He was a soldier and who left the Sudetenland to fight the war. He was not back when they had to leave the Sudetenland in 1945/46. They had to leave because the Czech government took their property and ordered us to leave. The German government assigned them a new place to live. They were transported to the Schwabenland where Emilie, her mother, and children lived in a farmhouse with a good family until her husband came back from the war.

Her mother remained on the farm while they moved to another city where Alois would leave each evening on Sunday to work and return on Saturdays. They lived like this for a few years. Emilie enjoyed growing vegetables and fruit which she would can. She also had chickens and rabbits and goats. They often got eggs and goat milk and she butchered the animals for food. She often travelled by bike until she got a moped.

On 19 October 1949 her son, known affectionately as Heinzi, died after he had been hit on the head by a horse and then had a stroke after having whopping cough for awhile. He died in Hinterlintal where they lived and was buried in Spraitbach in the catholic cemetery. She never quite got over his loss and later after they had moved away she found out that the cemetery was had taken up the graves and built a mausoleum and the bodies were destroyed, this hurt her deeply and influenced her own decision to be cremated upon her own death.

Emilie’s marriage was not a happy one according to Burga and on Aug. 1, 1960 they got divorced. By then the family moved to Schwabisch Gmund and Emilie worked at a good job for the city.

Emilie had worked hard her whole life and it wasn’t until her later years that she truly was able to live. She was married again in her later years to Karl Kuschmentz. With him she was able to travel and see the world going to Italy and other places in Europe she had always dreamed of. Burga remembers her in those years as always being well dressed. She loved to dance. After church on Sundays they would go to a local restaurant for dinner and dancing. Burga says that she and her mother would dance together and truly enjoyed this time together.

She lived actively and independently up until the age of 85 when she moved into a nursing home where she quickly declined. Her room filled with emblems of her live long past. Scarves of a well dressed woman, gloves from west Germany. All trinkets of a life now just a memory, rosaries and a picture of the savior symbols of a faith still burning bright.

Walburga Marie Heinze

Walburga known as “Burgi” by her family and friends was born ---- in Oberthomasdorf, Sudetenland. A country and town in which her family lived for many generations. Her parents were Otto Winter, who was a German soldier stationed in the Sudetenland with the German Army. Her mother, Emilie Herta Heinze, worked on a farm that also had a restaurant. She helped on the farm and then worked as a waitress when needed. There she met Otto who was playing the harmonica. Her mother dated him for a short time and got pregnant with Burga. He was transferred to another place before she was born. Her mother filled out the papers and he paid child support, which she put in the bank. This was the only contact which she had with her biological father. Her mother later discovered that he also had a child with another woman. That child Burga’s half sister was born two weeks earlier. He did not pay child support for her. Her name was Veronica Parks. He was also married and had 4 or 5 children with his wife in Koblenz, Germany.

When she was about a year old her mother got pregnant with her half-brother, Alois Heinz Nistler. His father was Alois Nistler. Heinzi was born ---- in hospital in Freiwaldau. His father and their mother were married 28 September 1944 in Oberthomasdorf. He was a soldier who left the Sudetenland to fight the war. He was not back when they had to leave the Sudetenland in 1945/46. They had to leave because the Czech government took their property and ordered them to leave. She was almost 4 years old but still remembers the trip. They were ordered to bring all that they could and then the Czech soldiers could inspect and take what they liked. They were given physicals and deloused because many had contracted lice from the ride in cattle cars. The German government assigned them to a new place to live. “We were transported to the Schwabenland and my grandmother, mother, brother, and I lived in a farmhouse with a good family until my stepfather came back from the war.”

When Alois returned from the war her grandmother stayed on that farm but they moved to another town. In 1949 on 19 October Heinzi died at home in Hinterlintal and was buried in Spraitbach in the catholic cemetery, after he had been hit on the head by a horse and then had a stroke after having whooping cough.

Her grandmother, Anna, moved in with them then and Emilie worked in a bra factory and my stepfather got a job in a city nearby. Her mother grew and canned fruits and vegetables and raised goats and rabbits. Burga remembers a time, “When our neighbor, a farmer, hired someone to butcher a hog my mother had the same man also butcher one for us. So we had plenty to eat.”

Burga either walked to school or took the bus. The school was 2 towns away in the town where her brother was buried. She would often pass his grave on her way to school. Her parents spoke plattdeutsch at home or High German with others. Her mother had to learn swabisch to work but her grandmother only spoke plattdeutsh. She said, “I played with the neighbor’s children so I picked up the different dialects easily. When I was allowed to bring a friend home they thought it was funny the way I talked to my grandmother.” Burga often spoke to officials when their family had to deal with the city or the school.

“We played hide and seek and jumped rope. There was no allowance and I got what I needed. I had the mumps when I was 5 or 6. Most of my friends were about my age and there were more girls than boys. My 8^th grade teacher made me feel good about my writing skills. My pet had been a small goat and I walked with it on a leash. As I got older and played less with it, I found out that my mother had killed it and we had eaten it. That made me wonder about eating meat.”

She remembers her mother was always working but she was good to her. Alois her stepfather was not very nice to her mother and he often spanked Burga for things that her brother did because “I should have made him behave. Most of the time I had to kneel on pieces of wood (cut to be used for the oven) and I had to look at the wall. If my mother told him it was enough, he got mad at her.”

Her parents were never what she would call happy and Aug. 1, 1960 they got divorced.

“By then we had moved to Schwabisch Gmund and my mother worked at a good job for the city and my step-dad continued to work where he had been for years in the city we were now living in. The one good memory I have of my stepfather was when the 4 of us took a long walk and we got to a watermill and he moved the wheel so we could see the water running over the wheel as it would have when the mill had still been in use. My brother and I laughed and ran that day and we felt so good.”

My mother’s parents were Anna Magdalena Streit born May 4, 1876 in Streitenhau house #9 and Josef Adam Heinze born Jan 16, 1873 in Adelsdorf house #103. They got married July 30, 1900 in Freiwaldau. They were catholic. I know that my grandfather fought in Sarajevo with the Austrian/Hungarian Army during world war I. He was a farmer and died before we left the Sudetenland so he was buried there. My mother told me that he had cancer in the throat and pretty much starved to death. My grandmother died July 10, 1958 in Schwabisch Gmund in our home. She was buried in the same city. I have a picture of my Grandparents and we always called them Oma and Opa, that is in the dialect of my home. My grandfather’s parents were Heinze Vinzenz and Theresia Hokel (maiden name). My grandmother’s parents were Johann Streit and Maria Bose (maiden name).

I lived in Schwabisch Gmund until Sept 19, 1962 when I moved to Apopka, FL which is near Orlando. I met Willard Sidney Hudson in June of 1961 at a restaurant that my mother and I frequently had dinner at. He was an American soldier who spoke little German and I spoke even less English. By 17 Nov 1961 we got married at the courthouse and then at the base chapel and my mother fixed a nice meal for us. There were only 5 of us, my maid of honor, the best man, my husband and I and my mother. My mother cooked a mixture of German and native Sudetenland food. We ate at our kitchen table. We had a tradition of placing a lemon dish next to our plates, a bowl or water with lemon, so that you could clean your hands. My husband did not know this so he took the lemon out and drank it. We ate spatzle not like the long noodles but just as long as your thumb with butter, sugar, and cinnamon. It’s a side dish. Meat was a common German dish like breaded pork chops and sausages. Sometimes it had paprika like the Hungarians. Our side dishes were spinach, scrambled eggs, fried potatoes and wheat bread. They were all separate. Every meal started out with soups. This used to not be the way of doing things in Germany but now they do. No matter what else you ate you had soup.”

Burga lived in Apopka, Florida and learned to speak English. Many of the words she learned from her husband were not proper words and so this led to many comical situations. For example if one of his nephews wet or soiled his diaper she would say he “crapped” or “pissed” not knowing people don’t use those when referring to children so they laughed at her.

She lived near his family in Florida and remembers many positive times with them. It was through Willard’s step mother that Burga found the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. She was visiting a friend of Willard’s step mother one day and the woman noticed her looking at the Book of Mormon on the table. She asked, “Have you ever heard of Mormons?” Burga responded that “Other than the fact that they have more than one wife she didn’t know anything.” This woman laughed and offered to have the missionaries visit. Burga agreed out of politeness and shortly thereafter was baptized with Willard’s step mother. At the time he was in Korea, when he came home he was suspicious of the missionaries and listened to them to protect his wife. He ended up joining as well. She had 4 children with Willard and lived with them in Chapman, KS until their divorce in 1981 when she moved her family to Manhattan, KS so her kids could be near the university. She has lived in Manhattan ever since working in a nursing home until her retirement a few years ago.

Random:

I'm trying to start painting

Some stuff from Grandma Bernice:

Saturday, July 7, 2012

Goals and Future Plans

Education/Career

v Get my Masters in Social Work (MSW)

v Get my LCSW (Licensed Clinical Social Work)

v Get a PhD. (unknown subject)

v Teach

v Be a counselor/jack of all trades

v Enjoy what I do and learn

v Never stop learning

Personal/Family

v Be happy

v Be sealed in the temple

v Be a mother

v Have a comfortable home

v Be close with my family

v Be a part of my nieces’ (and possibly nephews’) lives

v Be temple worthy

Miscellaneous

v Travel Europe/world

v Be spontaneous

v Go somewhere I don’t speak the language and immerse myself in the culture

And just because.... its a short term goal to go to a show...

http://www.mormonwomen.com/2011/02/09/marching-to-her-own-drum/

Sunday, June 10, 2012

My Story: Part 1

So my family history teacher wanted us to write our personal history and post it on our blog so here is mine:

I will start as far back as I can remember. So I am the youngest of four kids. My mom and my father, Craig, were married for about 9 years when they got divorced. They were married civilly and then married in the temple. Prior to the divorce my mom was super active. She had grown up in the church after her mother (an immigrant from Germany in the 1960s) and father (an American soldier) joined the church. After the divorce she met Mark and subsequently strayed.

They met in Manhattan Kansas where he was stationed at Ft. Riley. Craig was stationed in Korea and living with a woman off base. My mom was She frustrated and alone. And my aunt, her brother’s wife, invited her to go dancing. She took the chance to get a away from everything and it happened to be at a bar that my aunt went to dance. At the bar men who asked my mom to dance often treated her like an object. Then my aunt told one of the soldiers to dance with my mom. She said he was the only one that night who danced properly. He held her at a comfortable distance and just respected her. She said it was the first time in a long time she felt special. That man was Mark.

Then after the divorce Mark was stationed on Oahu. So they went to Hawaii and were married. We stayed with my grandmother for a few weeks to let them settle and then my mother flew back to get us. I was 5 when they finally married and a year later he adopted all four of us kids, none of whom were his biologically.

I remember Hawaii being a really fun and happy time for our family. And it was the time when I met many of my extended family…coincidence? I think not. Every weekend seemed like a family vacation. We went to Hanauma Bay, Diamond Head, China man’s Hat, Pearl Harbor, waterfall hiking, and all the fun touristy and local adventures for a young family stationed on Schofield Barracks. I remember when my granny came. She bought me a book called “Aloha Bear” about a polar bear who stowed away on Santa’s sleigh because he was not meant for the snow and ice so Santa brought him to Hawaii. I traced my hand in it with her help and learned to read using it. I still have that book and keep it in a little bag in my childhood box of memories along with some Disney books from when I was a kid.

My mom and dad were involved in everything. They coached peewee football and went as my brother played in the Aloha Bowl. The coached his baseball team…the Pirates. My mom had this ridiculously short permed haircut but something I will never forget is how she always seemed to be smiling.

Hawaii was probably the happiest time of my childhood. I was just a kid. I don’t remember fighting other than with my siblings or neighborhood kids in the way that kids bicker. I remember trying so many new things…like the hula. We used to go to Luau’s when family came and my parents sent me up to be in the group to hula on stage. I was fearless and determined as a kid.

One day my parents brought us all in one by one based on age. Being the youngest I went first. My parents had made it seem like we were in trouble but really they bought us roller blades. So I was supposed to act sad when the others went in. My parents were funny like that. One Christmas they had this box that was as tall as my dad next to the tree. It was for my brother. He opened that box only to find a smaller box. This went on for about four or five more boxes until he got to the last one and found a Nintendo game inside.

So when we got the roller blades we all went outside to use them. I had a really hard time keeping my balance. At that time in my life I had physical therapy sometimes at school. I was born with a mild form of Cerebral Palsy (I can’t remember if it’s spastic hemiplegia or spastic diplegia). So as part of my therapy I did the balance beam and still remained spastic and clumsy. So that first day with my roller blades I had to use one of those plastic lawn chairs as a make shift walker. I figured it out eventually after refusing to give up and learned something about myself. I learned that although I may have to do it a little differently than other kids, I could still do anything they could and anything I wanted to.

You don’t often think about the impact the things of childhood have had on you but this is an experience I look back on often when I’m worried about what others will think or if I’m nervous about trying something new. It may look funny and be a little different but it’s not about what others think – it’s about me learning to roll with it.

So I’m not 100% sure this is all accurate but this is how it happened from my point of view. When my parents met my mom picked up his, Mark’s, habits. Not that he was a bad man, but he drank and smoked because socially that's what they did. My mom grew up in The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints and even lived with the bishop and his family when her parents divorced during her senior year. My mother a strong, hardworking, and compassionate woman strayed from the life style and tenants of a faith she had as a child and found herself with habits that led to a new lifestyle. She had found man who was not of the church who loved her deeper than the man she was sealed to.

While in Hawaii from 1994-1997 the church lost track of my mom. Until one fateful day when a woman who lived on base down the street was getting a divorce and had 5 young children and needed help. My mom went and helped this woman organize her home. The woman happened to be a less active member of the church and it came up while they were cleaning. This woman ended up going back to church and bore her testimony about my mother being an answer to her prayers. The Relief Society president came to visit my mom to thank her for doing something that is the definition of being in the “relief society” and they had her records again.

We ended up moving to Texas where they made sure her records as well as our records were sent to Texas. We all had baby blessings and my brother was baptized so we had record numbers. The missionaries came to visit my mom and ended up after a while teaching us. I ended up going to church for a while before anyone asked us about baptism (we all had numbers and were older than 8 so no one thought to ask). One day I was sitting in sacrament and Sister Brown turned to me and said, "Kandice, have you or your sisters been baptized?" I said, "I don'at know what that is but I definitely haven't but I don't know about Jessica and Chelsea". I don't remember the missionaries or that sister very well and I only remember a few tidbits of what the missionaries taught but it was enough. I was 11 turning 12 when I was baptized May 28, 2000 along with my two sisters. So this will be 12 years and then I didn't know but I felt and I did the things that enabled me to one day return. I went to church until we moved to Florida in May of 2001. My mom drove a half hour to take us to church and never went for herself but I remember we always stopped at this little burger place. They're the best burgers I remember ever having ( I didn't get the whole Sabbath day holy thing then). Those are some of my favorite memories with my mom. She had so much faith to drive a half hour to take us and pick us up again. Some may judge her for not going but she gave me a legacy of faith. She may not have believed the atonement was for her or heal her pain but she wanted it for her daughters.

When we moved to Florida I slowly stopped going. I would go occasionally but I became lost inside myself and my pain (we had some family troubles) and I thought closing out the world would protect me. I was hot and cold from 12-17. Oddly enough the only thing I went to was seminary (my sisters drove to school straight from seminary). Many different Young Women presidents/YW leaders made efforts to come and get me for activities and come on my birthday. Sometimes I would come and others I said mean things and told them to get lost. They never stopped coming. Eventually I felt so empty that anything was better than the pain inside. I remember a feeling coming to me one day. It was the feeling that I felt when the missionaries would teach us. I don’t remember everything they taught but I remember the feeling they brought. Peace. So I gave the gospel a chance. In the Book of Mormon it says that you could get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts and so I took that challenge. Instead of saying no I said yes to invitations. I opened my heart and the emptiness and anger slowly dissipated.

I remember coming back to church one time just before a youth temple trip and the bishop invited me in for an interview. We came to the attending your meetings question and I said "I know I haven't been coming but if I can go it will help me to keep coming." I don't know why I said that I had only been once in Texas but I think I sensed even then the pull of divine tentacles. Then I just felt it was better for me, but now I have the knowledge to recognize and cultivate gratitude for what the Lord did for me. It wasn't until I was 17 that I truly committed myself to living this. The Lord placed a wonderful 2nd Counselor in the bishopric who was also a Marriage and Family Counselor to guide me through my emotions and teach me how to master them. God gave me YW presidents who saw in me what I couldn't. And he gave me spiritual gifts that kept me from straying too far and allowed me to recognize the truth when it came.

I know that the Lord has been intervening and directing me along the path that He has prepared for me. This is confirmed just looking in how I decided where I was going to college. I applied to mostly Florida schools. I think outside of Florida I applied to University of Vermont, some all-girls school in Georgia and BYU-Idaho. Other than that I got into Florida State University, University of Central Florida, University of South Florida, and some other schools but really my first choice was FSU and I had a Bright Futures scholarship that would cover the cost of my tuition and other fees.

I was sure of my path to FSU, but I wanted to confirm it with the Lord. I went to the temple to ask which Florida school I should join. There was a woman there from Tallahassee and she said I would love FSU’s Young Single Adults ward. I felt this distinct impression that I would do well at FSU but I would do better in Idaho. I was shocked. Idaho was an after-thought in applying. I didn’t really expect to go. But it was where I needed to be. That set me on a course that I never planned for – friends who taught me to pray, have FHE, encouraged me to get my patriarchal blessing, and to go on a mission.

Friday, June 8, 2012

Fire and Ice

Some say the world will end in fire,
Some say in ice.
From what I’ve tasted of desire
I hold with those who favor fire.
But if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for destruction ice
Is also great
And would suffice.
Robert Frost

Lately I've been feeling like this poem is what I've been feeling like my life is. A dichotomy of my desire and hatred. Sometimes I feel passion propelling me forward and at the same time my heart has a separate and distinct feeling of emptiness towards all that surrounds me. A part of me that screams to be free and find true fire. An all consuming passion. Not just routine and business. But as this so clearly illustrates the world...my world has no choice but face its destruction at the hand of one of two equally compelling ends.

Maybe it is too late to be waxing philosophic about my existence. Its just I spent tonight with a room full of friends and felt alone...or rather disconnected from it...wishing there was more to it then this. Sitting watching a movie...longing to be free from the mundane or rather to have the mundane have meaning.