Hard day. Blessed day.

Today was hard.

I had to tell a few really great people...people who I love...particularly one truly incredible 17 year old girl just a few minutes ago...that the Lord has been pushing me to make a change. And in the spirit of wanting to want His will, I'm doing it.

It's hard to trust when you can't see the end from the beginning but I've had plenty of opportunities to see that HE always knows better than ME. And so I'm trusting.

I'm selling my first home. I love my little house and it makes me sad.
And it's not like I'm moving across the country (just downtown) but I've been totally blessed to get to know some outstanding teenage girls...who I love love love...and it's hard to think about not being so in their lives. I've needed them. A LOT.

The other part of this is that I've also had PLENTY of experiences thinking the Lord is pushing me in one direction and it turns out that He meant for me to go another. And it's a rough time to sell a house and so who knows...maybe He just wants to see how open I am to following.

OR maybe there is something else...just around this corner.

All I know is that I'm feeling pushed and so I AM following.
And that makes it a blessed day...even when it's hard.
Actually, especially when it's hard.

I know I chatter on far too much...

...but if you only knew how many things I want to say and don't.
Give me SOME credit."

That's one of my favorite lines from Anne of Green Gables. It's one of the reasons I most love Anne. I totally get it.

I know I write a lot, but if you only knew how many things I WANT to blog about and don't...partially because I want to look like I have too much of a life to blog (because really, I would quit my job and blog every day if I could)...and partially because I'm a little sensitive to people knowing really what goes on inside this head of mine.

But, on the off-chance that what IS going on inside this head of mine might be at all helpful, I'll share...

First of all, you know you have a problem with blogging when, while you're starting a new experience, you're already thinking about what your post is going be about. Tonight I had to go to a fireside to check out a potential TOFW speaker. It was a BYU ward and as I sat there watching "the kids" walk in, I was already starting my humorous post of my observations and my own memories. My those were interesting days...

But that clever post will have to wait for another day because something happened to me tonight. And I feel the desire to share it. (Long post coming, Erin...get comfortable.)

(Little side note, one of the reasons I most look forward to getting married is because of nights like tonight. I LOVE experiencing something like this WITH someone and then being able to talk about it together. I can't wait to meet the guy who gets a kick out of talking about life like I do...or at least gets a kick out of how excited I get to talk about life...)

I've been dealing with two different situations lately.
The first is a part of me that is related to a weakness...a weakness that causes me a great deal of frustration and discouragement and angst.
The second is the part of me that doesn't always want the will of the Lord....also a weakness...and it also causes me a great deal of frustration and discouragement and angst.

A dear friend told me last week that I am far too hard on myself...that I expect too much of myself...and I think she might be right.

But, now it's all in perspective.

Tonight I heard Wendy Ulrich, author of (forgive the appearance of a shameless plug) Forgiving Ourselves: Getting Back Up When We Let Ourselves Down. I'll be honest. The book has been sitting on my desk at work along with a pile of other books I need to review. And I hadn't read it because it just didn't appeal to me. I don't really have a problem forgiving myself for sin after I've repented. And I don't have a problem wondering if God has forgiven me. I trust that process.

BUT, I have a terrible time forgiving myself for weakness (which is NOT the same as sin. Sin is willful action contrary to God's law. Weakness is not and it's FROM God...Ether 12:27.)
And I think I finally realized that might be because I don't have to.
There is nothing to be forgiven for (stay with me here).

Wendy taught tonight that "If a thing is worth doing, it's worth doing badly."
Yes, you read that right...she said "badly".
Meaning that if something is worth learning in this life, then while we are learning to do it, we are going to make mistakes...and that needs to be okay.

If in this life we are trying to learn hard things, then it is safe to say that 1/2 of everything we learn to do is going to be below our personal best. And that's not sin...that's just math.

Does anyone else love that?

And so if that is true, it's safe to assume that the thing that appears to be the HARDEST thing for me to learn is a.) likely going to take the longest and b.) going to be the thing I probably mess up on the most.

There is something so liberating about that thought.

And then, what happened for me, was a little tutoring by the spirit. It's okay that I don't forgive myself for my slow progress in life...because I don't HAVE to forgive myself. There is nothing to forgive.

I saw how my current "favorite" weakness is being used to refine me and to shape me AND that all the time I've spent learning to overcome it has made me better...the times I have failed have made me stronger. Each attempt to overcome has, without me really recognizing it, changed me a little more. It's all been part of the process...MY process. I am NOT just someone who can't get it together to experience complete change. Rather, I am someone who is learning to do something hard...change...truly change...and change is hard. No personal forgiveness necessary.

I can't quite articulate how important this new concept is for me.

I am not naive enough to think that this latest "ah-ha" is going to dramatically change me forever. And yet, the Gospel of Jesus Christ teaches that true change...complete change...is possible...and can happen immediately after revelation is given. And the Gospel is anything but naive.

There's so much more in this little head and heart of mine but I'm still processing and it's likely best that I wait to share until I've processed more.

I know I chatter on far too much sometimes.
But give me SOME credit...(grin).

P.S. I can't wait for tomorrow to get here so I can practice learning some more.

Right here waiting for you

That's basically what I said tonight to Richard Marx when I met him in person.
WHAT?
I met Richard Marx?
Songwriter/Singer extraordinaire?

So here's the story:
Tonight Jami (one of my favorite friends in the whole wide world) and I had plans to go to the Richard Marx concert. I'm such a nostalgia sucker and pretty much every youth dance I can remember included one of his songs. "Right Here Waiting" came out the summer before my Senior year. It's such a sweet & sad romantic song. I always imagined the guy of my dreams as if he was singing it to me.
MAN, the 80's were great.

And yet not as great as tonight.

Our intention was to set each other up on dates. But, you know what? When push comes to shove, if you can't be with the right guy, you might as well be with all the right girls. And so, we asked out a couple of married friends who deserved a girls night out. It could NOT have been more fun...

Julie, Jami, Me & Jaime (yes, I'm the only one w/o the great 80's name)
I was so excited just to be this close to Mr. Marx. Little did I know what was ahead...
He was really so great live.
We moved up to the top of the hill so we could just totally let loose and stand and dance and scream and swoon. And it paid off, because we got approached by the show producer right towards the end of the show. I knew what he was going to offer as soon as he walked up to me (and he approached me because I think I was less intimidating than the other girls). "SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" was all I could say.
He said we looked like we were having too much fun. But, he only had 2 passes...until he came back 5 minutes later with 2 more.(Then he said, "I know you, don't I?" And I said, "I don't think so." But it turns out we go way back...and that's another funny story for another day.)
Richard finally sang "Right Here Waiting" right towards the end and then didn't make us beg for an encore. He just gave us one. It was GREAT.

And then...we met him. I'm pretty sure I said something stupid but holy cow...it was RICHARD MARX!
He was just SUCH a nice guy.

Seriously, it was just one of those nights when you realize that this life is all about having moments of just total enjoyment...in the eternal things that matter (like great friends) and in the completely unimportant things like backstage passes (no disrespect meant, Mr. Marx). God is so good to let us just totally enjoy moments.

And I have to do a little shout out to Jami who, as always, said all the right things tonight, and who was the reason I think the Lord told me to move out to Riverton. Love you, chiquita! (And seriously, who wouldn't want to marry us?!?)

You remember that karma thing? Turns out it's pretty sweet stuff.
What a totally fun night.
I have been blessed with such incredible friends...while I'm waiting for that "right here waiting for you" guy.

LYFSGUD

A good nights sleep, some treadmill time...

...and a talk by Boyd K. Packer

"Your body is the instrument of your mind...what you learn spiritually depends, to a degree, on how you treat your body. That is why the Word of Wisdom is so important."
-Boyd K. Packer

Great quote, eh? Only problem is I can't find where he officially said it...anywhere... except other blogs where its been quoted. So much for using that quote ever again.

But, in the search, I found this great talk President Packer gave in 2003.

And it's all even more true.
And I'm glad I slept.
And I'm glad I got on my treadmill.
And I'm REALLY glad I found the talk this morning.

Because, at the risk of being dramatic, I think I just found THE resource to access the full change I've been seeking; which ironically, requires more change. Gotta love the way the Spirit works.

Read it. Really.

I'm ready to want it

A friend that I haven't really talked to in a long time, but who has been reading my blog said to me this week, "Your life just seems so great. You seem so happy." And in a hundred different ways my life is SO great and I am SO happy.

But I couldn't bring myself to admit I was in a bit of a funk.
I've been in a bit of a funk.

I know the reason for it though I'm not ready to talk about it. But, the gist of it is that it's hard for me to always be content with the will of the Lord. And it's not that I don't TRUST His will...not at all...in fact, I can say I trust His more than I trust my own.

But sometimes, if I'm being honest, I don't WANT His will. And I hate to admit that.

I want to want His will.
I want to be as intensely committed to His will as I am to my own.

Because when I'm not, I feel guilty and I feel ashamed and I feel a little faithless.
And then I feel the odd funk.

"Behold this is my will; ask and ye shall receive; but men [and girls like Laurel] do not always do my will." (Doctrine & Covenants 103:31)

And you really have to want it before you can do it.
I'm ready to want it.

I heart Little House

I always think if I post on the Sabbath, I should do something Sabbath-y.
And if I'm NOT going to do something Sabbath-y, I probably, at the very least, should avoid admitting one more Sabbath day vice.
But, then I read my brother's post today and, well...

You see, in addition to watching news shows on Sunday morning, I also induldge in back-to-back Little House on the Prairie episodes on KBYU in the afternoon.

Now, in fairness to me, I don't just sit and mindlessly watch.
I'm always doing something else...
planning my week...
catching up on emails...
writing letters to missionaries...
making meals for old ladies...
(okay, I made the last two up, but it sounded good).

And, I'll admit, I'm a total Little House on the Prairie sucker.
I've seen every episode multiple times.
I bought a large portion of the series on VHS back in 1995 on a particularly depressing New Years Eve during a manipulative infomercial.
I cried when Michael Landon died (which was the same year as Dr. Suess...life can be so cruel).

I've just always been connected to the show.
They had 3 girls.
We had 3 girls (and we were actually very much like them in a lot of ways...my mom even made us white bonnets to wear to bed like they had! You did...right, Mom?)
Their pa worked hard.
Our pa worked hard.
Their ma was sweet.
Our ma was sweet.
They found an orphan boy in the city to add to their family.
That's kind of how David came about too.

I grew up kind of thinking life was like LHOTP:
Happy families are possible.
Hard work pays off.
God answers prayers.
Miracles, grand huge hollywood miracles, happen.

I love love love the episode where Laura goes up the mountain to tell God to take her and give "baby Charles" back to the family ("the closer you are to God, the more likely He is to listen", Reverend Alden said)...remember Jonathan? Yes, my friends, that is good television viewing.

I love the whole "Manly & Beth" storyline and watching the budding romance develop and turn into marriage (remember the fight scene because of the "My One True Love" misunderstanding?).

I adore the episode when Laura puts apples in her dress to appear older to the new boy in class...and then the apples fall out when she's standing in front of the class...remember that?

I get all anxious wondering if maybe this time they WON'T get Keri out of the well.

And I love Michael Landon. I cry when he cries...even if I've seen it a dozen times.

But, one question...really...why on earth did Mary go blind?
Is it like that in the books? (I haven't read them...does anyone know?)
I just think it made her way more dramatic and kind of obnoxiously so. Like right now, she and Adam, whilst on their way to St. Paul for a conference where Adam won a teaching award, just got in a stage coach accident (the episode is called "The Third Miracle") and there is something about the way she screams and talks that just isn't natural. Don't get me wrong. I'm sure it's a traumatic experience...I just think she was a better actress when she wasn't pretending to be blind. Why did they do that to her?

Oh, Pa just came and saved her from the fire that was caused by sunlight reflecting on glasses dropped on the dry field as she was climbing out of the ravene to go for help. The fire is how they found she & Adam...but no one knows the fire was started by the glasses...only we the viewers do, because we saw it....oh, the pregnant woman in the stagecoach just had a bouncing baby boy though she has a few broken ribs...

It's another Little House on the Prairie miracle!
And, of course, I'm crying...bad blind acting and all.
I'm such a nerd.

I love fire

I had time to do some thinking on the way back from Cedar City today (great group of girls, btw. I feel really blessed I get these opportunities).

I had forgotten about the horrible UT fires last summer until I saw the destruction first hand near Cedar Fort (and I'm getting my very own digital camera this weekend so I can start actually taking pictures when I'm not with someone with a camera).

It was amazing to see.

Jenny Reeder, one of my favorite people, recently wrote a great post about fire. And I found myself thinking about it today on the drive.

A friend recently shared this great quote with me:
"Sometimes a forest fire seems like it rages so hot it will destroy everything in its path. But when the fire cools and spring rains come, green seeds of opportunity open and new life sprouts through green stems of promise. Only the Master knows when the fire has been hot enough to begin this process."

I feel like things got "hot enough" for me this spring but I'm seeing the benefits of the process. And the Master certainly knew what He was doing. (He always does, doesn't He?)

Green seeds of opportunity are opening...
I see green stems of promise...
I'm grateful for the fire.
I love fire.
Who knew?

What if it's Him?

You're going to see the life analogy before I even get to it.
But I'm doing it anyway.

I'm sitting in the American Car Care Center in Riverton.
I like this place.
It's like a shop in rural Missouri.
The guys are honest and nice.
And miracle workers.

I needed to leave after work today to get myself down to Cedar City to speak at a girls camp tomorrow morning. I booked myself a room at the Hampton Inn (because of the Cloud 9 bed, remember?) and was kind of looking forward to trying to get down there early so I could enjoy the evening. But, I knew that wouldn't happen.

It's been a busy day, like many days. And for the past few months I've had a little "tire pressure" light issue with my car.
It goes off.
I freak out.
I take my car in to whatever is the closest tire place to get the tires checked (because I really can't figure out how to check tires or put air in tires...and I've been taught multiple times but just like driving a stick...I just can't figure it out.).
They check the pressure.
One of the tires is low (though never the same one).
I ask them if I need a new tire.
They same I'm fine.
Sometimes all the tires are okay and they just do a little air to trigger the warning light off.
I go on my way until the next time.

Well, about a week ago the light came on yet again.
And I've been busy and haven't gotten it checked.
I intended to get it looked at this Saturday because I certainly didn't have time to mess with it today.
But, I kept feeling like I should.
You know how that goes.

"But every time it's okay. Maybe I need just a little air. But, it's just Cedar City. I'll take care of it Saturday. Really I will."

But, I kept feeling like I should.

Good thing too.
Not only did I have a nail in one of the tires, but the tread is worn through enough that I was at very high risk of blowing a tire, especially in the heat, probably at dusk...by myself...on I-15.

Sometimes it's tempting to discount a repeated impression, especially when we've already checked the deadbolt, or we've already called the neighbor or we've already checked in on the kids...and the deadbolt was already locked and the neighbor was just fine and the kids are playing happily.

But, really, there is always a reason for the impression.

I think sometimes the Lord tests us to see if we'll respond. And He tests us before our response is even needed...so that the next time He needs us, He already knows He can count on us to heed the feeling and do whatever we're impressed to do.

I'm a believer that the Lord, through the Spirit, is talking to us far more often than we acknowledge. We're tempted to think it's just us...our mind talking something through...our neurosis not letting something go...our obsessive compulsive disorder thinking about it over and over and over again.

BUT, what if it IS Him?
What if the impression, repeated and seemingly unimportant, is from Him?

Pay attention for a few days.
Every good impression that you get to call or check or do...
Call.
Check.
Do.

Just see what happens.
And even if it turns out to be seemingly nothing to you, maybe it's Him.
And if it is, He'll know He can count on you next time.

(BTW, the other reason I love this place besides their honesty? It's 5:44 p.m. The tires aren't here yet. In fact, they said they couldn't get them today so late but when the guy heard I had to be at a girls camp in Cedar City, he called in a favor. They close at 6:00 p.m. But,they are staying until I get on the road with safe new tires. I heart rural Riverton. I really do....PLUS Michael W. Smith "Place in this World" from 1991 just came on the radio. Man life is good!)

When life hands you Erins

I have a packed summer. It's a good one but it's really busy. I have very few "free" weekends. I was supposed to be out of town this weekend for work and that trip got cancelled about the same time my friend Erin thought she needed a dose of me. And so, I planned to spend yesterday in Las Vegas. We were going to play. We were going to get massages. We were going to eat a yummy dinner.

Well, long story short, Erin's boyfriend decided he needed to go surprise her for the weekend. And like any good fellow-single-friend, I adhere firmly to the rule: "Boy trumps girl. Boy always trumps girl." And so I canceled my trip.

But, the problem was this week was no longer just about letting Erin have a dose of me. I really needed a dose of her too. I needed a break from my life. I needed to get away.

And so, late Friday night, I decided to just stick with my plan.
I would go play with Erin.
I would get my massage.
I would enjoy my yummy dinner.

And I went to Denver to visit my OTHER Erin.

When life hands you Erins?
You make Erinade!

It was the most perfect day ever.
I so needed it!
Thanks, EW, for helping me get the day I needed.
(You owe me, though, don't forget that!)

It was frivilous and crazy and there are other things I probably SHOULD have been doing with my free Saturday. But, I needed a day that was just about me...filling my bucket...no schedule...no obligations...no responsibilities.

And that's exactly what I got.
(Warning: the Hallstrom's are really great at the "self-portrait" so we have a lot of those...A LOT...)

She picked me up at the airport Saturday morning and we went straight to Estes Park for the most amazing breakfast at The Grubsteak Restaurant. Ah, Estes. There was a wool festival there. Erin is a knitter. I pretend to be.
I told Erin I was going to leave my money in the car so I wouldn't get tricked into buying great yarn I would never use (I bought the skein on the left...it's going to make the most GORGEOUS scarf. Guess I'm a knitter again!)
After the festival, we had to go see the classic Stanley Hotel
After Estes, we went back to the city and pampered ourselves with "the best massage in Denver". Then it was time for this great little arts festival in Highland, an amazingly hip suburb of the city.
We got a "snack" of a killer cupcake (I love that Erin is all about good food and skipping lunch and replacing it with snacks instead.)
And then bought the best bags I've ever seen (and I MIGHT have purchased a new necklace...I might have.)
And then Erin was willing to spend $6 (of my money, of course) just because we each wanted one bite...maybe two...of a "frozen white chocolate covered key lime pie on a stick"...are you kidding me?(I'm proud to say we didn't let ourselves finish it...and it was worth the $1.50 a bite!)

So, after this perfect day, dinner had A LOT of pressure. We drove around just waiting to "feel" where we should go (and I'm not making that up) and after walking around downtown, we ended up and the The Samba Room specializing in Cuban cuisine. All I can say is, if the Cubans are eating that good, why the heck do they want to come here? Seriously, we decided it was just about the best meal we've ever enjoyed.(You can't tell we are there, but you can surely tell it's the end of the day!)
The day ended with a mean round of American Idol Karaoke Revolution. I so should have gotten a picture of that.

It's days like this that I love my life...doesn't replace all the things I still dream of having but, as my good friend Jane Austen once said, "It is only poverty that makes celibacy contemptible." (I hope you can love that quote with me in the spirit it's intended.)

Thanks, Erin, for the perfect "kind of fun that I'm still single" day!
LYFSGUD.

Father's Day Eve...

Dads are smarter than brothers
but dumber than moms

That's what the card said that I sent to my Dad.

I'm not doing a "shout out" to the guy because I did one in April for his birthday and I don't want him to get uncomfortable with all the attention.

He hates that.

Just like me.

Love you DAD!
-Your numero uno dumb broad
(but at least now I know that still makes me starter than YOU...hee.hee.)

Honoring my Sunday morning friend

I lost my breath a bit with the news alert this afternoon.
Sudden deaths are just...too sudden.
What a loss.
And I am so sad.
He has been my Sunday friend for a long time.

I admit.
I watch TV on the Sabbath.
Meet the Press and This Week with George Stephanopoulus.
I know it's not the best thing...but it's before Church and then I keep the rest of the day holy.
I promise

He will be missed.
His insight.
His questions.
His humor.
His ability to talk about important topics.
I didn't always agree with him but I think for the most part he was a good man who genuinely wanted to inform the public.

Good-bye, Tim Russert.
Someday we'll meet and then I'll be able to express how much I really really liked you.(and hey, life is so short in mortal terms...take it easy, everyone...me included...and tell those you love that you love them...we just don't know what each day will bring...)

Hey, Mr. Karma. Bring it on!

If, in Theosophy, "karma" is "the cosmic principle according to which each person is rewarded or punished in one incarnation according to that person's deeds in the previous incarnation", then I sure wasn't very good in my previous incarnation.

I have a friend who has killer karma.
Really.
Things seem to just fall in his lap sometimes.
He gets tickets to sold out broadway shows in NYC all the time.
Sometimes the tickets are just handed to him...FREE.
Once he was in Chicago and as he's getting off a train a family offers him tickets to a Cubs game...he had a mishap with a roller coaster on that same trip that would disprove the "killer karma" theory, but that's a story for another day.

My point is he always has great karma.
And he's a good person. Don't get me wrong.
He's really really great,in fact.
But,non-stop great karma?

Come on!
I'm a good person.
I am.
I'm not perfect, but I'm pretty darn good.
But, my karma? It STINKS!

For example, my ticket on Saturday?
I was taking personal time in a very full Saturday to check out the location for my ward girls camp (I'm the camp director). I got a little lost and got a speeding ticket on main street. ON MAIN STREET...in PAYSON. I have never been on Main Street in Payson. I had no reason to be there other than to do a good thing...and I got a ticket.

But, that's nothing compared to today.
(Erin & David, this might be longer than you can handle. You might want to take a little break right now. Grab a snack. Run a lap. Grab some trail mix. You'll be here for a while...)

It was a rough day. Just one of those days when you're sitting in a meeting and you just have to ask yourself, "really? was I actually born to do THIS? I don't care about anything any of you are saying. And you're opinions are dumb. And I want to go home and cry. And I'd rather be doing laundry." Now, in fairness to the example, a really dear friend gave me a much needed, and very sweet, "pep talk" and I am grateful for that.
BUT, it was a rough day.

And at the end of the work day, I got off a call late and had to head out so I could get to class (last one before my final research project...wahoo! oh, and btw, I think it's crazy that PhD people get to be called "Dr" but Masters people don't get to be called anything new. I'm out to change that. You'll need to call me "Master Laurel" come December...just so you know...you might want to start preparing now....where was I?)

I was SO hungry and was kind of pleased with myself that I remembered to bring just a little container of cheese (which Tam says is God's way of telling you, "it's going to be okay") and apples & grapes. Perfect for dinner as I'm rushing off to class.

As I'm crossing the street to the parking garage I see an older homeless couple sitting on a little bench with a sign. "Don't make eye contact. Don't make eye contact", I say to myself. (Hey! I was in a hurry! Don't you judge me...)

But, then I remembered my montra for when I encounter people in need: WWTD (what would Tammy do?). Tammy worked at a homeless shelter for a long time. We almost lost her to the Democrats during those years. BUT, I saved her from a life of liberal thought and she saved me from a life of selfishness. Or rather, she has attempted to.

Tam rolls down the window and offers bottled waters from my car to men on corners (men with signs...who appear homeless...not just random men) and now I do that. In fact, I always have bottled waters just so I can. Really I do. I've done it twice since Tam's example.

When we were in Canada, we walked past an old man begger on the street. Tam turned around and gave him all the change she had. Now granted, it was U.S. change and the begger called it "gerbil poop", but still.

So, I'm standing next to this couple wishing the "walk" sign would start flashing and I heard a little voice say (and I'm not kidding), "Tammy would do something. You need to do something." To which I say, "If only I had some food."

Drat.
I do.

My cheese and apples.

"But I'm so hungry and it's been such a rough day and it's CHEESE for crying out loud."

But, before I know it, I'm turning to the man.
"Here. It's all I have, but you can have it."

He looked at me...so tired...so sad...it was actually very sweet.
"God bless you, ma'am."

(I know that all sounded too perfect, but, really, that's what I said. That's what he said.)

The "walk" light came on and I actually thought, "you know, I bet God will bless me. And I need the blessings. Well done, Laurel."

I got to my car and started to back up. I was still thinking about my good deed and I actually made the decision not to tell anyone I did it..."that thine alms may be in secret"...and I knew I needed whatever little boost I might have merited from my good alm.

And then...

BUMP.

I backed into the cement wall of the parking garage.

Oh, I know you think I'm kidding.
I know you are saying to yourself, "oh, that Laurel, she is such a kidder. There's no way something like that would happen. She had SUCH a bad day. And then, she gave up her CHEESE!"

But, I'm not kidding.

Now, it didn't do a lot of damage. Just a little paint.
But still...

Seriously, Mr. Karma...
Where is the justice?
Where is MY free broadway ticket?
Where is my cheese?

And I know I totally negated any blessing by sharing this, but truly, it felt so good (hunger pains notwithstanding), that I'll do it again and again...
even if it means a little more paint.

Bring it on, Mr. Karma.
Bring it on!

I'm in love!

So, I realized that if I'm really serious about my "100 mile summer", I needed to fall in love.

And so I did. With these:It's a great Nike...WMNS Zoom Structure TRIAX+11, to be exact. I went to the place where all "hardcore" runners such as myself go, the Salt Lake Running Company (btw, they have the best calendar in town for 5Ks) last night for FHE. I overcame the intimidation and the fear that the salesguy would say, "um, I don't think you meant to come in here." But, he was SUPER helpful (and treated me like a runner...I loved that.). Got me on a treadmill and video-taped me running (just the feet, thankfully) and we started the process of finding the PERFECT shoe.

Did you know you should wear your running shoes 1/2 to 1 full size above what you normally wear? Like I'm either an 8.5 or a 9 in regular shoes. NEVER would have tried a 9.5 but as soon as I slipped them on, it was love.
It makes ALL the difference!
No more numb toes!
No more burning feet!
I've already gone SIX miles since I got the shoes!

I'm in love.
I love my new Nike Zoom Structure Triax shoes.

I'm so hardcore! (just typing that made me giggle.)

Erin says I write too much...

"How can you write so much?" she asked last night.
Miss Erin even admitted she doesn't always read the entire post when it's that long.
WHAT?
How could that be?
Why would someone choose not to read the entire long detail-ridden-said-too-much-and-now-I-feel-silly post?!?

So, this is short.

I have a date.
With this guy.
I got "asked out" whilst driving on Saturday.
You know the drill.

Miracles in pinafores & blue jeans

Anyone remember that classic Deseret Book publication? I was too young when it came out but I grew up looking at it on our bookshelf. It had a pink cover with blue jeans and a pinafore on a clothsline (right?) and a really scripty title. To be honest, I don't remember if I ever even read the book.

But, I've never forgotten the title.

For me, the title conveyed the message that God could and would work miracles for a modern teenage girl just as much as He had for a pioneer teenage girl. It made quite an impression on me at a very young age.

But, I don't think I really "got it".
Until today.

Today was Ward Conference. My sweet bishop, who I dearly love, spoke on "miracles". This man was actually the means for a miracle in my own life last year but I hadn't called it such until his message today.

Have you ever read the Bible Dictionary definition for "miracles"? I pride myself on having really studied the BD, particularly for basic gospel terms. But apparently, I've not considered "miracle" a basic gospel term before.

The definition reads, in part:
Miracles should not be regarded as deviations from the ordinary course of nature so much as manifestations of divine or spiritual power.
WOW, I love that. And if that is true, than surely I am witnessing miracles every day.

The definition continues:
Miracles were and are a response to faith, and its best encouragement. They were never wrought without prayer, felt need, and faith.

So first, the miracles I witness EVERY DAY(whether I acknowledge them as such or not)are there as an encouragement for my meager faith (and believe me, it is often meager). But, I'm also intrigued by the notion that a miracle comes because of prayer and faith, but also a FELT need...not just a legitimate need...but a FELT need.

What does that mean?

1.) The Lord knows what I need. He ALWAYS knows what I need. He is aware of me. He knows my needs and will ALWAYS...ALWAYS...give me what I NEED.

2.) BUT, sometimes I have a FELT need, meaning something that is a need for me even if it not an actual need in the eternal perspective of things. And even for those "felt needs" I can have a "manifestation of divine...power", or a MIRACLE.

That got me thinking about all the miracles I have witnessed in the past year or so. Some which I considered true miracles even at the time because of their scope, others that I now see as miracles because of the true definition I now understand. But, all a need (whether just felt on my part of known on the Lord's part).

I won't go into detail (though we all know I don't have a shortage of details in my posts), but here are the ones that came first as I wrote...

- a devastating situation that brought news the week of my 35th birthday (a birthday I was already dreading) of the possibility of a cancerous growth in my uterus (okay, I guess that would be the anithesis of "won't go into detail"!)

- being told, after a minor surgical procedure, that I was okay and there was nothing that was going to negatively impact every woman's hope (was that too personal?)

- getting really sick after the surgery (now THAT'S another story for another day) but having my mom able to stay with me for 17 days while I got better

- having a really great guy brought into my life at a time when I had kind of decided there were no more really great guys

- my visiting teaching "assignment" turning out to be one of my very dearest friends who would be used multiple times to point out other manifestations

- little Lily being born on one of the more sad weekends of my life.

- a bishop who gave me a warning I wasn't expecting that helped me move on

- the Lord taking me to a place that I would not have chosen to go so He could teach me things I would not have chosen to learn. Talk about a manifestation!

- my DAD's life being spared because the Lord knew I still needed him

- but the Lord showing me I'd be okay regardless

- reconnecting with my favorite old sweatshirt at just the right time

- the ability to conquer some Goliaths...more of a miracle than I ever gave it credit for

- "round about" inspiration (thanks, Jami!) that allowed me to be called as the Laurel Advisor in my ward...those girls are a total gift to me

- being in the right place at the right time so many times so obviously that I have no doubt the Lord is in charge

And then there have been other manifestations of: friends, spirit-filled situations, answered prayers, prayers I didn't know I didn't want answered, sunshine at just the right time, yes, even speeding tickets (next post)...

So many many things that I have to acknowledge now as miracles.
And though I'm not always wearing blue jeans and never wearing pinafores (thank goodness!), I've experienced a whole life full of miraculous manifestions.

I'm quite certain you would have to say the same.

Weighing my checked bag is one thing, but ME?!?

(BTW, do any blogspot bloggers know why all of a sudden my "title and blurb" are showing up twice now on the left? I can't seem to delete either one?)

So, I got sent an article yesterday about the crazy things the airline industry is considering in an attempt to save their business.

Crazy things like not serving ice with drinks (or drinks at all)...or charging for checked bags...or pricing telephone tickets $20 more than online tickets...or charging based on the weight of the passenger.

Yeah, you heard me...I'm not making this up.
Charging based on the WEIGHT of the PASSENGER.

Does that send chills through anyone else?

Can you even imagine?
I don't even like weighing in a Weight Watchers and that's when you're surrounded by other people, who are also weight-conscious, weighing in privately with the annoying woman who says, on the week you're up 3 pounds, "hmm, you're up a little bit. any idea how that happened?" (are you kidding me,lady? you don't just gain 3 pounds for no reason. I know EXACTLY how it happened! Do we really have to talk about this right now?)

So, hearing that...just the prospect of that being even a remote possibility (even though I get all the "legal" reasons that it would likely NEVER happen), is forcing me to step up my efforts. I've had a "not so great" week when it comes to nutrition. What is wrong with me???

I've had TWO shakes (albeit the small size) from Arctic Circle this week...well, I thought it was two...until I noticed THREE empty Arctic Cicle shake cups (still small size though) in my trash tonight..then I knew it was three...since I think it unlikely that someone broke into my garage just to throw away one empty Artic Circle shake cup...unless they were in denial TOO and trying to hide the evidence. (btw, Jason Wright found this hysterical so when it shows up in one of his books, just remember you saw it here first...and yes, Jason, I realize we already had this conversation...who asked you?!?...grin.)

Blast those cravings.

So, clearly, I am having a problem this week. I've been SO good too, dangit!

Blast those cravings.
(I know I already said that but I feel about the cravings the same way I feel about the devil right now.)

SO, in an attempt to get cheaper airline tickets come fall, in addition to my "100 mile summer" (which I'll keep you abreast...that word always makes me giggle...of throughout the summer...on the left there...do you see it? I have to know you're seeing it. Just the sort of "shame motivation" I need.), I'm recommitting myself to the organic eating I was doing the during the detox. I felt SO GREAT then. Why don't I just live like that all the time?!?

Oh, and no more Arctic Circle shakes this summer...not one more this summer.
I mean it!

Come on, Delta. Weigh me this fall.
I dare you!

I am beyond done with him

I'm done.
I'm done.
I'm done.

I debated all day whether or not to express this.
Tonight on the way home, I just knew I had to.

I am determined to look at every part of my life where even a hint of him might be found and I am ridding myself and my environment of his influence.

There's no question, any relationship we have had is partially my doing. A part of my heart has even belonged to him, in some ways...if I am being honest.

But, I've seen all to well how damaging similar relationships are for others and I don't want to go down that path. In the end, he will do nothing for me and I'm done doing anything for him.

I have long used the phrase (though I tried to change my ways at the first of the year and have been pretty good for the most part): "Damn the devil". I figured he was damned anyway so I wasn't really saying anything inappropriate. I was merely stating a fact. I've tried to be more appropriate and so I've tempered my tongue since January.

But, no more.
No more.

Damn the devil.
Truly.

I have seen, more so in the last little bit, his subtle influence, particularly on God's sons and I am sick sick sick of it. I've watched how he brilliantly and skillfully takes good, honorable men and entrenches them in ungodly elements. The most obvious being the destructive nature of pornography.

In the last few weeks I've watched one of my dearest friends have a set back in her own life because of the addiction of someone else and her exposure to filth because of him. I've witnessed, with great sadness, the life alteration of another good man because he didn't realize his curiousity was going to lead him down a path he couldn't turn from on his own.

You can't flirt with it, even a little bit. Flirting turns into an addiction without you even realizing it. And when that happens you risk losing your family, your job, and eventually your soul. It's not worth it. It can't possibly be worth it.

I've seen it impact some of God's finest.
NONE OF US are above the effects of this insidious enemy.
None of us.
And the second you think you are, watch out.

And because the morality lines in the media are becoming more and more blurred, we had better be careful. As our sensitivies become numbed, we unwittingly (though can't honestly say unknowingly) are inviting his influence into our lives and are dangerously choosing to serve a master we never intended to serve.

I've walked out of two movies in the last few months.
I don't normally do that.
But, I really truly believe that as the adversary steps up his efforts to destroy us, God is also stepping up His efforts to save us. I am finding that I am more readily hearing the spirit, if I will listen, say:
Laurel, walk out of this movie.
Laurel, change the channel.
Laurel, turn off the t.v.
Laurel, don't even think about clicking on that link.

And I am grateful for the influence of the Spirit and know, I know to my core, that I can stay on safe ground if I listen to that little voice that says, "if you continue to sit here (listen to this, go down this path), I have to leave you. You will be alone and you are not strong enough to do this on your own."

When the Spirit tells me to flee, I will flee.
Because I am beyond done sitting quietly by while Satan continues to claim more ground...and more souls.
We just have to step up the fight. We just have to.

Remember that they that be with us ARE more than they that be with him.
Let's be done with him.

(By the way, Deseret Book has just released a truly inspired children's book about modesty and pornography. It's a must for every family. It's called The Trap. I strongly encourage it for your children & grandchildren.)

Why I heart Canada...for real this time

I will NOT let this post get hijacked.
I won't.
I won't.
I won't.

Okay, but back to Canada...the REAL reason for this post. I don't know what it is, maybe it's Gilbert Blythe. Maybe it's Michael Buble. Maybe it's the guy from the subway. There is just something about Canadians that make me feel like I am home. I LOVE Canada and totally would live there. We're becoming more socialist anyway so what's the difference, right?

Why do I love Canada, Toronto specifically this time?

- great shopping, even though the US dollar is "gerbil poop" right now (Tam learned that after giving some US money to a homeless man...that was his way of educating her...TOO funny).

- great people, even men on the corner looking for hugs (and for the record, they approached ME first...I'm sure the guy on the subway gave them a heads up)

- great spirit, from the woman in pants who told us she just got her "patriotic blessing" after finishing the "book of mormons" right before bearing the most pure testimony I have ever heard, to the 80 yr old evangelical convert who started out by saying "Brother & Sister, I feel the need to say, Praise the Lord" in his british accent...it was the most spirit-filled church meeting I think I have ever attended.

- great food. HOLY COW. If'n your ever headed to Toronto, visit Cora's downtown for brunch (breakfast served all day) and The Pickel Barrel for dinner (kind of like Cheesecake Factory but yummier, if you can believe that, and MUCH healthier, you CAN believe that!)

- great event. The whole reason I went. I've never been with a more appreciative group of women. 1300+ stood after the closing prayer on Saturday and sang "OH CANADA" for us. I cried like a baby. SUCH GOOD WOMEN. I love my job. I really really love my job!

I would share more details but there is no time and I wanted to get pics posted.
This is the Toronto skyline. SUCH a cool city!Tam & me in a ridiculously hip city Me & Chrislyn (she works w/me on TOFW) at the CN tower. I don't care if it WAS for charity. Good looking men giving hugs is always a good thing!

I love Canada.
I love Toronto.
I love it.
I love it.
I love it.

Post follow-up

So apparently several saw the Yahoo home page article today too, before seeing it on my blog. And it has started some interesting offline chats (I always get a kick out of you who will email me a comment but won't post a comment) with some of my male friends.

One of my favorite male friends (in the "married" category), Bob, and I had a very interesting conversation today about it, in fact. And he said something that I've been thinking a lot about.

Said Bob, "The problem is that a girl like you needs a partner and most men, if they are being honest, don't really want a partner. They want a companion. But, you are a partner."

Hmmm.
Interesting.

I know he's right about the analysis of me. I for sure need to feel like I'm in a partnership. I'm not marrying for companionship at this point. I'm not marrying so someone can take care of me (though FOR SURE I'll welcome that!). I want to marry to really truly be in a partnership. He presides, no doubt. But we do it together. He's not in front of me but rather I am beside him. He's leading...but just enough so that I feel safe...not so much that I'm behind.

I think my marriage examples earlier fall in the "partnership" category for sure. I think that's why I so appreciate them. Surely there are more men out there who want that still. Yes?

What think ye? Is there truth to the analysis?
(and no "guy bashing"...that's not what this is about. there are PLENTY of remarkable men out there. And, happily, I am friends with some of them).

This will be the last "marriage chat" for a while.

And then, really, we will get back to hearting Canada.

Why good men don't marry...and I heart Canada

(I love that I'm taking time off this morning to catch up on my life, and I'm blogging...I'm SUCH a dork.)

Every now and then having Yahoo set as your homepage is really helpful.
Today's headliner was one of those "every now and then" moments.

Who knew?

And I believe it too. I've had one of my single male friends (of which there are not many) confirm as much...it's the fear of NOT marrying the right person...
And you know what? Truth be told, I think I could have that fear too. I do fear that...not that there is someone better...but that there is someone "more right", you know?

But, all it takes is being around good solid married couples (which I was this past weekend) and all that goes out the window. Because that's when you are reminded that...
it's still better to be with a great partner than no partner at all
it's still more important to learn what it means to be selfless than to live a life that's just about you
it's still easier to do it with someone committed to the Gospel like you are than to be committed on your own.

And I have GREAT examples of this all around me...people that I've spent time with and watched their marriage...THANK YOU! (and if you're not listed, it's only because while I have no doubt you are amazing...I just haven't been able to spend enough time around you as a couple to testify in a court of law...grin...or you don't blog...MOM & DAD!)

Bart & Lisa
David & Karen
Jake & Michelle
Tam & Jim
Jill & Ty (okay so I haven't spent much time around them but their "3rd anniversary" post was just TOO sweet!)
Bri & Adam (WARNING:only read this post if you can do so w/o being a tich jealous at their cuteness at re-enacting that great scene from "One Fine Day")
Steph & Scott
Hilary & Tim (and a special shout out to them...they know all the reasons why...)
Elder & Sister Hallstrom (I know they have names, but...)

So, THANKS, good-examples-of-good-marriages friends.
Let's hang out.
I'll do "rent-a-guy" if need be.

Oh, "I heart Canada"...I'll have to do that later...I've got to start my "100 miles summer" before work...but I really really really do heart Canada. I could SO be Canadian (if it wasn't for the whole "socialist" thing, that is.)!

Sitting at the feet of the queen...

I am SUCH a good best friend.

Truly. If you have the chance to choose a new best friend (or a best wife) and if I’m available…well, let’s just say you’ll want to submit an application now to get put on a waiting list. Really. I am THAT good. (btw, I’ve had several requests for “godmother”. Sorry. No can do. One is all I can handle. I’m not THAT good!)

So, Tam went with me on my business trip to Toronto. I went mostly for work with about a day and a half of play. Tam came to get a little break from her life (still a fairly new mom of 3). It was a birthday/Christmas (’07) and birthday/Christmas (’08) gift for Tam (sometimes I don't know what to give anymore). And who are we kidding, really? It was a gift for ME. Sometimes I just need a dose of Tam. This is our 20th anniversary of meeting...we just figured that out this weekend...and having her all to myself was just so what my little spirit needed.

But, this isn’t about Tam and what an amazing friend she is to me.
Nope. This is about ME and what an amazing friend I am to her.

You see, Tam’s ticket was partially purchased with my skymiles. And apparently a partially-purchased- with-skymiles ticket is higher up on the “upgrade list” than just a silly old silver medallion (yes, I know it’s pathetic that with all the traveling I do, I’m only silver, but when you go to places like Albuquerque and Spokane and not New Dehli or the Congo, you really don’t get much higher than silver).

SO, one of us got upgraded and one of us did not. (And I love that Tam's husband, who I love love love, was totally bugged that I didn't get upgraded...even sent me a text when I landed in Toronto that said, and I quote, "you got hosed!")

But I was totally okay with that. Because how fun for her, right? (and yes, the ticket counter women, when they heard our story, just couldn’t get over what a great bff I am. So, it’s not just ME who thinks that…I have other credible sources as well).

I fell asleep right before take off (as I always do…it’s the oddest thing…it’s like there is some sort of ether in the air or something) and woke up about an hour later (as again, I often do unless I have work I’m frantically trying to finish). I noticed that I missed the “snack box” they serve the commoners in coach.(this picture SO is not to scale!)

So, I saw Tam in her first class seat just ahead…front row…on the single seat side and so I went up to the “please don’t bring your common-ness to our posh first class area” part of the plane to visit (great reference here is the classic Seinfeld episode where Jerry is in first class and Elaine tries to sneak in…remember? Yeah, I was Elaine) . She was drinking her bottled water and enjoying those terribly-yummy-must-be-laced-with-something-illegal biscoff cookies.

I told her I missed snack time and didn't get the snack pack they give in coach and she said (those of you who fly first class will get a real kick out of this), “wow. All we got were these cookies.”

I plop myself down at Tam’s feet and we proceed to have a great chat, catching up on life between blog posts (Tam gets bugged that things in my life that used to merit a phone call to her now are read by the world on my blog. But, let’s be honest, there are SOME things that no one in their right mind would blog about…so we had plenty to catch up on).

So we were catching up when the flight attendant brings by the hot towels (which I have never understood the real purpose of. I remember the first time I flew first class…my dad upgraded me on one of my return flights to BYU…I thought I was so cool…and they came by with those…and I don’t know why I thought this, but I actually thought the towel was some sort of wrapped chicken taquito. Seriously. I thought it was food. When I realized it was a HOT TOWEL and saw the snobby business man sitting next to me WIPE HIS FACE with it, I just didn’t see the point. Why would a woman want to wipe off her make up while she’s sitting in first class ?!? ) She hands a hot towel to Tam, not even acknowledging me. As she passes, I whisper pathetically, “please lady, can I have a shilling? Just a mere shilling?” I totally felt like the orphan child outside the bank in Mary Poppins.

And then, Tam gets lunch.
Yes, lunch.Because when you fly first class you actually get a MEAL.

I was the farmgirl at the feet of the queen…just hoping for the queen to drop a mere morsel.
Before I left the “please-get-your-coach-behind-off-our-first-class-carpet” area, I asked the flight attendant for a bottled water, since I had seen her give a bottled water to Tam.
“Well, I can't give you a bottled water but I can give you water in a cup.”
“But, you have bottled water.”
“Yes, but that’s for our first class passengers.” (and I’m not making that up.)
So, she poured some BOTTLED WATER in a cup and handed it to me.
“I suppose it would be out of the question to get a biscoff cookie?”
“Um, well, those are for our first class passengers.”
“What if I told you that if I hadn't given that girl my seat, I'd be the one in first class?" and I proceeded to tell her what a great friend I am and how lucky my friend was, all in a very sympathetic way of course.

Needless to say, I got the biscoff cookies….”but I still can’t give you a bottled water.”

On the flight home this afternoon (after the most personally meaningful Sacrament Meeting that I have EVER attended...in Mississauga, Ontario...more about that later...), we both got upgraded (though the customs guy was SO not nice and gave me SUCH a hard time about coming back into the country...he clearly didn't know what a nice friend I am...and that any country...ESPECIALLY MY OWN...would be lucky to have me...and really, I was tempted to just stay in Canada where the men are truly SO great and nice and give free hugs...one man stopped me in the subway and said...and I'm not kidding..."you are elegant"...and he wasn't drunk or high or homeless...though might have been looking for a green card...but I digress...). Oh, how I love the upgrade.

Tam & I shared our funny tale of the other flight to our new friend, flight attendant Nina (who was 45 but didn’t look a day over 31.) Right before we landed in SLC, she brought me some treats…
“This is to make up for the other flight.”
I got 2 extra BOTTLES of water…and a BAG FULL of biscoff cookies for the drive home.

It's good to be home.

(This is a random guy on the plane...it's mean to post this but Tam took the picture and we just giggled...don't you just fear being the one caught sleeping with your mouth open?)