I love to see the temple

Still do. Always have. And even though I miss my little OKC temple (especially working in it), it is fabulous to be so close again.

From where I'm staying right now, it's less than 1.5 miles, takes me about 25 minutes to walk up hill and about 20 to get home. Life is wonderful!

This temple is especially fun, because Father served his mission in the New England States mission many years ago and his first area was Belmont/Watertown (I've been in his area both places I've stayed). And so, when the Boston temple (actually located in Belmont) was announced (15 years ago now, wow, I'm old), he was really excited. And he followed the developments over the next 5+ years with a lot of interest. So, every time I get to go to the temple, I feel a special connection with Father, too. Hopefully he'll come visit me so he can see it in person. :)

Fascinations

Sherilyn has a fascination for ships and all water-going vessels.


I have a fascination for kitchens--especially ones out of the ordinary, but still recognizable.

We both have a fascination for history. So, this trip to the USS Cassin Young was a lot of fun.
Is this awesome or what? Awesome:
There was a bread hook for this, too. I'll spare you the picture. But here's the bread slicer:
Vegetable soup and hot bread, coming right up.


Sherilyn liked the control room:


And there's a laundry room for those lovely navy uniforms.
And a state room, and bunks, and an infirmary, and all kinds of other nifty things. Even an old PA system playing 40's music.



Happy Sailing!! (that's me, the fat shadow waving at you)

We climbed that!

On a gorgeous St. Patrick's Day Sherilyn and I went touring. This is the Bunker Hill Monument. It has 294 steps and was long way up. But the view was amazing. (It's also on top of a big hill.) We could see for miles around (including the temple out in Belmont).


[We also met a nice LDS family up there; we thought they might be LDS and then the grandparents, full-time missionaries, got to the top. Yep. He helped us find the temple.]

Not until we came back down and looked up from the ground did we really get the full impact of how high it was. "We CLIMBED that!!"

Boston Massacre Reenactment

My first evening here, we went downtown and watched a reenactment of the Boston Massacre. It was so fun to be there. "Welcome to Boston!, I'm really here," I thought. The reenactment would have been more realistic with snow (didn't snowballs play a pretty big role?), but no one was complaining that it was a warm, lovely March evening instead of like the March 240 years ago. I didn't take many pictures, preferring to enjoy the moment, but it was very well done and fun for this history fan.

I Love Turtles!

I'm not sure why, but I love turtles in all shapes and sizes so these giant sea turtles thrilled me.


And the little ray was so cute up on the window. Later we saw another one that looked the same, only x20 (or so), and it ate some shrimp. Fun to watch, hard to explain how cool it looked.




(These are from Boston Aquarium, 13 March trip)

"Is that Ruth? What are you doing here?"

Boston being a popular second step after Provo, it's not surprising that I know people here, but some of the connections I have made have been so random. And surprising.

Here's a sampling of people I knew (or something) before I moved here:

Well, there's the obvious--Sherilyn. And she lives with Sarah C., who was a fellow English instructor (all 3 of us were).

My first Sunday I saw Vannary. We could make it simple and say I know her from a former ward (2004-2005). I do. But we connected there because she had served on her mission with my freshman roommate (Miriam, in CA). Then, a couple of years later, during my first year of law school I ran into her on campus. She was starting her MSW. With my then RS president/friend--Sara. And we'd see each other every so often. Besides enjoying seeing a familiar face, that connection was extra fun because Sherilyn didn't know that Vannary knew Sara (Sherilyn was Sara's counselor at the time).

Then, one meeting later (on the first Sunday) I looked up and saw Valerie. Valerie was an intern in Charlotte the same summer I was interning there. And we connected because we were both BYU interns in Charlotte that summer. That fall she lived in Nancy's ward in Provo. And here she is again. Oh yes, and when she saw me she said, "I was just telling a story about you in RS last week!" Really? Well, fortunately, no one knows the person in the story is me.

Next we have Wendy. Sherilyn had told me she was here, but then at Institute I saw her and we've had some quality visiting/reconnecting times since then. Wendy was a TA for my 1st year of law school writing class. Fortunately she wasn't the TA that I conferenced with. So we can be friends.

This past Sunday I switched to a new ward, so the connecting resumed. After Sacrament meeting various members of the welcoming committee came up to take care of me. The first one, Martha, was chatting with me and I asked her where she was from. When she said Wyoming, I asked which part. A little town called Lovell. Um, yes, I've heard of Lovell. My family lived there the past couple of years. Turns out, Father thinks he taught her little sister in his class. Benson and Hyrum know her well. She actually asked Benson on a date (he couldn't go because too young). Last night, after talking to our respective siblings, we compared notes and it turns out they really did know each other.

After church, I was visiting with a ward member and one of the sister missionaries came over to introduce herself. She mentioned that she'd only been out for a little while and I said--oh, maybe you met my cousin (Kathryn) in the MTC. Well, she more than met her, they were good friends. They write. Sister Heywood even wrote the home Muhlestein family.

Now, the best connecting story so far (I'm sure there'll be more before my life is done). I'll preface it with this: yesterday morning I went to a lesson with the sister missionaries. Being there, helping them, and especially talking to Sister Heywood (being new and all), reminded me of working with the sisters in Fayetteville 4 years ago; the new part especially reminded of one Sister Grant. Some great sisters and some great times. Now, for my story. I walked into FHE and was listening to the presentation about 72-hour kits, ... There was a girl there who looked familiar, but since I've met about 300 people (plus seen more on the buses, etc.) during the past couple of weeks, I didn't worry too much. Then, in the middle of the thing, during some commenting section, this girl suddenly turns to me (we were in a circle) and says, "Is that Ruth? What are you doing here?" (imagine accusatory tone, not mean, just, I don't know how to explain). Um, yes. And you are? Well, she was Sister Grant, sister missionary from Fayetteville. Who I remember very well, but she does look quite different. Random. Okay, actually not that much, but just so unexpected.

If you note these stories (not even including a couple more), you'll see that there are connections covering a wide variety of my activities and geographic locations (including people who know people who know me and therefore know things about me that they would never know from me). We basically just need someone from Michigan, my mission and growing up. I think that's why Jessica (Sister Grant) was so unexpected--I did not expect an Arkansas connection. It sure does make me feel nervous. There's no hiding from my past. Not that I need to hide from my past, but sometimes when you feel like you're starting a fresh page, it would be nice for it to be a fresh page. On the other hand, it's great to have people who already love you when you're quite alone.

Moral of this story (besides that it's a small world in the church): Life really isn't a collection of fragments (even though mine seems like it); it's one tapestry all weaving together.



One last thing: I haven't seen her yet, because she's been out of town. But one of my co-workers from Charlotte (and this isn't a church connection!) now lives in Boston and we're supposed to meet up sometime soon. I'm super excited to see her!! But, I have to laugh a little because when I left Charlotte I left a letter for her sharing some things I was afraid to say to her in person (not mean, just personal), but felt safe saying because "I would never see her again." hahaha

The Wise Man Built His House Upon a Rock

Sunday morning, 14 March 2010 I read the following:

"And now, my sons, remember, remember that it is upon the rock of our Redeemer, who is Christ, the Son of God, that ye must build your foundation; that when the devil shall send forth his mighty winds, yea, his shafts in the whirlwind, yea, when all his hail and his mighty storm shall beat upon you, it shall have no power over you to drag you down to the gulf of misery and endless wo, because of the rock upon which ye are built, which is a sure foundation, a foundation whereon if men build they cannot fall. " Helaman 5:12

Go back and read it through; it will be important.

As I read this, a yucky storm was swirling around the house. It had been going on for over 36 hours. And would last another 36+. I knew from experience that there was freezing rain, fierce winds (50-70 mph), and just bitter, bitter cold. The wind literally howled outside and I was so grateful to be inside and relatively safe. People's houses flooded. Roads were closed. There were mighty winds, hail, and mighty storm. It was nasty.

With that recent and concurrent experience, the scripture struck home in a new way. And I was reminded that it is not us that can withstand the storm. No where does it say that "you" (I) will not fall. It says the rock won't. The Rock. "Your" (my) part is build on the rock. My part is to build a foundation on Christ. And then Christ will take care of me when the hail and mighty storm beat upon me.

I needed that reminder. Right then. Still need it. Right now. I made a conscious effort to focus on strengthening my relationship with Christ; remembering him. And I could feel the difference. Literal, real. He has power that I just could not muster up. I felt it the next day, as I trekked through literal hail (and no umbrella because the strong wind killed it) and went "door to door" asking about jobs. I felt it as I struggled to figure out housing in an expensive city, with no job. I felt it over and over. It is peace; it's comfort; it's love. The mighty storm still beats down, but that Rock is so real and I know if I'll keep building on it, I cannot fall. Not because of me, but because of him.

Bad Combination

Unemployed + NCAA playoffs = very bad set-up

Somehow my motivation to get out there and look for a job has evaporated. As if the dreariness of looking wasn't bad enough! Before, at least the alternative was very boring. But no more. And to add to the excitement of watching, Asael is home, also not very occupied, to "watch" with. Let's see if there's any self-control tucked away deep down in there. Or obedience. Or guilt. Or anything that will get me off the couch.

In the meantime, HOORAY for BYU finally advancing in the NCAA tournament!!! And nice game it was (even if they only showed a little of it--apparently no one in this area cares, so CBS in Boston almost completely ignored it).

And good thing BYU did win, because it tempered my sadness for the game I did get to watch: Robert Morris v. Villanova. As I commented to Hyrum (also watching with me via phone), it's ridiculous that I was so invested in a school that I know nothing about (well, I looked it up after). To me, it didn't really matter who they were. They played a beautiful game and came SOOO close. Sadness.

If you know me at all, you know that I always, always cheer for the underdog. Unless I have an extremely personal connection to the supposed favorites (read: player who is closely connected to me, usually must be a sibling) --and even then, there's a little piece of my heart going for the other team. This particular characteristic makes my bracket selection not very accurate, so I declined the boys' invitations to play with them. But, with Old Dominion and almost RMU, I could have scored some points. Sigh.

Hopefully that will be the last post about basketball. Hopefully. But it sure is nice not to have projects and finals looming during and after....

Now, to go make some chicken pot pie. Any of you ever made real chicken pot pie--with pastry crust? I've made the mock stuff plenty of times, but not this and I'm excited but worried. Ah, my life.

Happy St. Patrick's Day

St. Patrick's Day in Boston is lots of fun. Especially when it has absolutely gorgeous weather. We went many places in the area today and I have never seen so many green shirts. And hats. And a variety of cool hair pieces. And jewelery (costume and otherwise). And more.
I wish I had more pictures but I couldn't figure out a way to inconspicuously take pictures of people. Anyway, tomorrow I'll post the one or two that I do have, but for now just wanted to wish you a great St. Patty's Day!

Here was a favorite outfit. (I was able to get a picture (bad though it is) because we were taking pictures of ourselves at that moment.)



Sherilyn doesn't need any luck of the Irish; she's Italian:



p.s Sad story. All the St. P's parades are on Sundays.

tuna fish

Is it just me or have tuna fish cans gotten smaller? I know they're more expensive than they used to be, but the last couple of times I've opened one, I really felt like they were smaller. And even after Saturday's trip to the aquarium, I do not feel happy about being cheated out of my tuna fish.

Yummy toasted tuna cheese melt for supper.

I think I'll go to Boston

This is a quick start to tell you that I've moved to Boston. I arrived on Saturday and I am planning on staying here. That may change if in 6 months I still don't have a job, but right now it's the plan. I'm staying with Sherilyn for the moment and simultaneously searching for a job and place to live. I have more to say about this decision (of course) but for now just wanted to get that on here.
So far I'm thoroughly enjoying it and am feeling quite excited and happy. :)

Tender Mercies

During these past few months I've received many, many blessings. I sometimes get scared for the weeks and months to come, remembering what has happened helps me to continue forward in faith. The Lord has taken care of me thus far, why would it change? A few weeks ago I saw the newish (to me) video of Elijah and the widow. (On the O.T. supplemental videos; see if it you haven't.) I've read, heard, told this story all my life, but seeing it right now at this time really impacted me. I've now watched it several times. It's a lot more meaningful when I feel like my own cruse of oil is running quite low. And thinking about it is part of what has prompted the reflection on all the blessings that have continued to pour out for me.

Here are just a few blessings and tender mercies that I've experienced in the past while.

1. The timing with my car. I wrote about this last post, but I still am in awe at the perfectness of it.

2. For the past several years I have lived out of a suitcase for way too many periods. Moving across country with a month lag time, internships, etc. Always, by the end I am feeling super anxious to have my own space again. My own kitchen, to cook my own meals. My own room. My clothes and belongings unpacked. The anxiousness gets worse and worse, sometimes resulting in tears or super stress headaches. I can't explain, though you may understand if you've been there. It's just good to have a home--even if it's just a little dorm space.

A few days ago, as I repacked my bags for about the 20th time (NO exaggeration), I started thinking about that. I have now been without a house of my own for 3 months and 9 days--with no end in sight, really. And I don't remember feeling that anxiousness at all. When I made this realization I stopped to really analyzing, thinking that maybe I didn't remember it today, but surely at some point I had felt it. But no, I can't remember any such moment. Want a job, yes? But no anxiousness for my own space. And I can only credit that, absolutely, 100% to the Lord helping me, giving me the Spirit to help with that particular, important thing.

3. When I first got laid off I made this comment in my blog, "So, it turns out that I should have focused on the food storage instead of the 72-hour survival kit." That's what I thought, too. Turns out, I kind of did. My natural way of living, influenced by my mother intentional living as well as the fact that we lived far from stores, means that I always keep things on hand. So, as I'd built up some food base for my apartment in the 2.5 months that I was employed, I had really acquired something. And that something stretched and stretched. If I had stayed in my own apartment, it would have gone for a long time. As it was, I still had plenty through the months. I gave away food, have food still (in storage), and kept having to move food, because it just didn't disappear. Part of this was made possible by the many people who fed me. But there also just seemed to be food, food, food available.

When I came home (to my parents), I brought the last of my freezer and on-hand items--still one large bag and a crate-full. Since this was the 3rd time in 4 months that I'd come home, each time bringing a random assortment of food, Benson asked me why I always brought home food. Now, I'd thought about it and discussed it before, but it was as I answered him that it really hit home. I brought home food because the Lord has "open[ed]...the windows of heaven and pour[ed me] out a blessing," but not ending there, blessings so great "that there [was] not ... room enough to receive it." Literally.


And so, I return where I started, the Lord has blessed me so specifically, so completely (often through others, also through the Spirit), why would I not keep trusting him?

In Memoriam Little Green Car

Last Friday my car officially passed out of my life. It has been dying for some time and the end finally came. It was sad for me, but part of life too.

I've learned a lot from that car--starting with the princial lesson that I learned from sad experience. Never use your own logical reasons to talk yourself out of following the Spirit's promptings. I believe in using logic, but when it contradicts the Spirit, follow the Spirit. If I had listened to the Spirit, I would never have bought this car and would have saved myself a lot of trouble over the years. But, it's a lesson I'm glad I learned vividly, to save me from other mistakes.

And, that said, I'm grateful for my little car and the fun, fun times together. We've traveled thousands and thousands of miles together, have been to at least 11 states (more?)--and most of those many times over, have traveled high and low, fast and slow. National parks, church history sites (including 3 weeks in Nauvoo), off roading, and a whole lot of on-roading. I've carried only myself many times. But I've also transported family, friends, princesses and more. Up to 9 people comfortably fit in my car; well, at least they fit. I've also carried my worldy possessions way too many times. I've lived out of my car for a ridiculous amount of months. And while most of that time I did have a bed, couch, something to sleep on, I have spent a few nights just in the car (even at least one night with more than one person sleeping in it. good times, Reno).

That car has more idiosyncrasies than most people. If you've known it you know about the speedometer/odometer, the interior lights, the puddles and lakes, the noises, the high quality radio system, and more. You may remember reading about about its heart transplant. I've blogged about the car more than once, because it's been an important part of my life.

It has enabled me to serve so many people. And has enabled me to be served! (thanks, if any of you have been rescuers!).

Besides all the great memories and unique features, I think I'm especially attached to my car because of the period of my life that we've been through together. I got it right before I graduated from college and it was my trusty steed through my vacationing and then working/living in Arkansas, then through law school, and back for another round in Arkansas. It's intricately connected to my memories in those periods of life and has been the home of many revelations from that time. It may sound strange to some, but I truly do love my little car.

And tears were shed on the way to the salvage yard, but I felt peace too. Like so many things in life, the timing of my car was a tender mercy for me. In just the last few months my car has been dying. I'm pretty sure it was supposed to die a couple of months ago. But Heavenly Father helped me keep it running while I finished up my time in Arkansas (including a few long trips in it). The morning that I left town to go to my parents', it started acting up. Then it died. A few more steps, spent the night with family friends in Alma, then got it to the salvage yard the next day. As I rode away (Hyrum came to rescue me), I reflected on the niceness of the timing. An era in my life is closing and so losing my car is not nearly as sad. I'd planned on leaving it at my parents anyway, so the good-bye was near at hand. I really feel like the Lord has watched out for me and arranged this, as he does so many things in life, and I feel the Spirit whisper that he loves me!

Good-bye, little green car!