FEED ME NOW!!

Okay, obviously I haven't been sticking to my original post about weight loss. it has been a few months since I have posted about it, but honestly, with working 12-Hour graveyard shifts, getting a calling, church in general, helping my sister plan a wedding, and every other crazy day in the life I live....my own goals have been on the backburner. I don't get much time to read my scriptures or to work out. Practically none at all. I eat a TON of food, ALL the time, because I work in manual labor and I feel I am always hungry, like my body is yelling "FEED ME NOW OR I WILL MAKE YOU COLLAPSE AND GET FIRED!!!" I definitely eat for energy, but definitely not all the right things. Yet somehow over the past few months of completely ignoring my body and exhausting myself to no end, I actually lost weight. And over the holiday season too I might add.

 

I have been thoroughly frightened to go near a scale since October, so I didn't. But I finally gave in and weighed myself a week ago because there I was, staring at the scale...I HAD to know what kind of damage I was looking at. Crazy enough I was down 8lbs since the last time I had weighed myself! Today when I weighed myself I expected to be back where I started because I had yet another indulging crazy overeating week (I know, shame on me) but I was shocked yet again to find out I dropped another 4lbs...in one week! I have absolutely NO idea what I did this past week that was different, maybe ate a tad healthier, but no where near what I would think would create such results.

 

So, how in the world have I lost 12lbs? Honestly, I think it has something to do with the whole "manual labor" thing. I know for a fact I have gained muscle as well. I cant even imagine what my results will be when I dive back in to selfishly training myself as the woman I eventually want to be. When I figure out how to add a work-out plan to my hectic schedule. I Promise you though, I am already figuring it out, I even work-out at work a little (when I am on a slower machine though). I try to be in constant motion (partly so I don't fall asleep sometimes, because I really am exhausted some nights).

 

I am only going to weigh in once a month, on fast-Sunday, because I don't want to obsess over my weight as much as be impressed by my reflection in the mirror. I am not going to stop until I like the person I see and it is healthy and fit; I don't need to be super skinny, I just need to be healthy.

 

 

Abandon-To leave behind; relinquish.

 

 

Sincerely,

SamanthaMarie

Blissfully...Inept?

Going through my first draft I realized how much credit I give him...I don't take it back but I definitely exaggerated his role in my decision. Anyways, the topic for my talk was adjusted and was tweaked and now I have finally finished rewriting a new first draft. Here it is:

When I was six years old my mom married the best man I have ever known and am proud to call dad. Along with completing our family, and teaching me many life lessons, he also brought something very important to my life. Before that point I hadn’t ever known who Christ was. Regardless of his religion, that was my first introduction to Heavenly Father and his word. Throughout the following years I had experiences that made me believe and ones that left me hoping that he wasn’t real, because how could anyone watch me go through them?

When I was eleven my back broke, and I underwent countless test, MRI’s and even 2 non conclusive biopsies. As horrible as it was, I knew that not only had I already been through worse, but that I would no doubt experience worse to come, but when I was twelve my doctor told me and my mom that he was going to test me for about four different cancers, two of which didn’t have lasting treatments. I came to terms with death, I was fine with it. But I had conditions, and this is where my conversion story begins, because that was the first time in my life that I knelt at the end of my bed, and asked God for something. I asked that if he couldn’t heal me, if he could at least make it not hurt to die, I asked if he would watch over my mom and sister, I asked for strength and courage, and I asked for a friend, so someone not related to me would notice when I was gone. After that I started asking my grandparents about God and I started going to meetings, but I felt like I never learned anything. Whenever I asked a question someone would answer me like I was stupid for not knowing or would tell me “We don’t know, wait until the Paradise and ask God yourself.” When I was fourteen I stopped going entirely. I pretty much decided at that point that since no one could answer my questions, and I couldn’t see it then it wasn’t worth my time.

 

I became agnostic and I was perfectly content being that way. Sophomore year, though, I met Jordan Collins, officially. I had already heard of him so much from my friends who had classes with him and were crushing on him that I didn’t like him. At all, like so sick of him. And then I met him, learned what a Mormon was (it was a religion, I mean who knew?) and we became friends. We exchanged number and the summer after Sophomore year is when the questions really started. I asked him everything I thought of, even the stupid questions. At this point I would like to say some of the questions I had asked: “How does man have the right to baptize people?” “Why do we have physical bodies if we are created in his image and he is a spirit?” “Why do I have to wait to get answers if God is so powerful, why can’t he tell me?” “How do you know it is true if God doesn’t speak to people anymore?” He answered them all. Very thoroughly, with references, personal insight, and no pressure on me to believe it. Before long it became a habit to ask him things in comparison to what my grandparents believed as well and by spring Junior year I was staying up until the wee hours of the morning multiple times a week asking questions, joking around, and always being sarcastic, now don’t get me wrong not all of our conversations were about the gospel, but for awhile there that’s usually how they started anyways. I learned at least one new thing every time we talked. And that is to this day.

Then, for about five and half months during senior year, we didn’t talk, barely at all, only about AP Homework. Never about belief or religion. I was dating someone who just, did not like me talking to Jordan, refused to believe that Jordan and I were just friends, and I cannot even explain how much he did not like Jordan Collins. But as most high school relationships do, it ended and one day I covered for Grace, my  absolute best friend, as she responded to Jordan for prom, very creepily I might add, and then after a bad incident at the school blood drive, Jordan and my relationship picked up right where it left off, only now it starts going a lot faster. Within a couple weeks he gave me a book of Mormon, with his testimony and a few of his favorite scriptures marked. I went to the Sunday session of General Conference with his family, and by the end I didn’t really want to leave. I believe it was the very next week that I began the lessons, but Jordan had already told me a lot of the information, I have this notebook at home full of random things he said and questions he answered from sophomore year until that General Conference.

When the missionaries asked me if I would be baptized, despite how I felt I hesitated, I had things to repent and what about my family? So I said maybe, if I truly believed it. I already knew though, I knew it would happen, I remember trying to talk myself out of it.

The priesthood, the fact that God has a physical body, personal revelation…believing in those things…how could I forget about the Restoration, and the feeling I got at general conference and when I read the scriptures? The missionaries asked if I would be baptized on May 11^th on a night that Jordan taught the lesson at his house, and I hesitated, not because because I didn’t want it, but because of my family. I said yes anyways.

 

When I look back at the beginning of my conversion I think of the missionaries (and everyone else for that matter) telling me that baptism is only the beginning, and how true that is, for so many different reasons. In true to the faith the conversion process is broken down like this, and I am sure it will sound familiar: exercising faith in Jesus Christ, repenting of sin, being baptized, receiving the gift of the Holy Ghost, and enduring to the end in faith.

Conversion is marked by all five of the missionary points. Things I had to recite a few times during the lessons, like a pop quiz. But let’s go through them. The first time I prayed was the first time I exercised faith in the Savior, even if I didn’t really know. I had a desire to believe that my prayer was being heard. That was conversion. Every time I have prayed since, and every time I will continue to pray in the future I will experience conversion. As I repented of my sins, and as I repent now and when I feel the forgiveness and I know that all I have left is to forgive myself; that is conversion. When I was baptized, and every week that I partake of the sacrament and renew those covenants, I experience conversion. When I was confirmed a member of the church and received the gift of the Holy Ghost and the blessing I have received from the priesthood since, were moments of conversion. All of those moments were conversion stories within themselves. But what about enduring to the end?

In Richard G. Scott’s talk entitled Full Conversion Brings Happiness he says, “Your happiness now and forever depends on your DEGREE of conversion and the transformation that it brings to your life.”

In that talk as well as Elder Bednar’s Converted Unto the Lord, both men refer to a goal of FULL conversion. So I asked myself, for me, what is full conversion? In trying to figure out the answer to that I did four things:

1.       I prayed. If I have learned anything from Jordan Collins, it is pray even when your mind tells you it won’t work. I prayed that the Holy Ghost might guide me to the knowledge I sought and that it would testify to me the true answer to my questions.

2.       I re-listened to both talks. Again and again and again.

3.       I went through the five hundred old texts in my phone from Jordan Collins, because I learn something new whenever I do, and I learned at least three more times that I needed to pray again.

4.       I read conversion stories on a site called mormonconverts.com and most were beautiful, but ended at baptism.

This is what I came up with:

                Full conversion is finding something that you believe so thoroughly that your morals, thoughts, habits and opinions change. It is acquiring so great a faith in The Gospel that you are more than willing to live true to it no matter what you have to give up in the process. Full conversion is being proud of your beliefs and being “Cheerful” whenever they are brought up. True conversion requires you to consistently obey and consistently re-convert through scripture study, daily prayer, attending church, and making and keeping sacred covenants. Full conversion is enduring every single day until the end in faith. There should never come a day that our conversion doesn’t grow. When Richard G. Scott refers to the DEGREE of your conversion, he is referring to the amount of effort you place in your beliefs, and in serving the Lord. He is talking to each of us, and giving us a reminder that we must always strive to be Christlike, and to grow in spirit and in faith.

At the end of Richard G. Scott’s Full Conversion Brings Happiness he testifies that “…as you pray for guidance, the Holy Ghost will help identify the personal changes you need to make for full conversion.”

Every one of us is different and has different struggles, we all have different habits and trials in our lives. Some changes we will have to make will be obvious, but others might be subtle. There may be times when you look around and think everyone else has it easier or that they make all the right decisions and don’t struggle with worldly temptations, but I assure you that we all have our own struggles and we have all made the wrong decision at some point. I know I certainly have.

                Something we all learn as kids is not to compare ourselves to others. I struggled with that for a long time, I had a few people in my life that liked to point out the differences that made her better than me, or them better than us. It wasn’t until my brief yet, life-changing stay in Nevada that it truly sunk in, and as much as I hate to say it, it is just one more thing that Jordan taught me, or rather, re-taught me. He reminded me as he so often does that I am amazing and when I compare myself to others I am making a never-ending chain of disappointment for myself, because and I quote, “The list will go on forever, and all it would do is succeed at pointing out my ineptitude when I should have been focusing on developing what I had, rather than basing what I didn’t on others.”

                It is important to remember to pray for guidance as Richard G. Scott said, because we are all different and we will all have to make different adjustments and changes our lives. When I prayed to receive an answer to this, oh, Tuesday I think, I thought there was no way I would receive an answer quickly, but in preparing for this talk, I went through my journals, and for those who don’t know me, it is a very extensive collection of random writing that is sometimes about me. So I was reading and all of a sudden halfway through an entry about prune juice I read this, “It hasn’t been easy to fully incorporate the gospel into my life. I still have problems remembering that the first thing I need to do when I wake up is pray, and the last thing before I lay down to sleep, is pray. I can’t seem to find enough minutes in the day to study and pray and get everything else done. I hate it, because I want to. I know that I am getting better, but I am not good enough.”

I still don’t remember to pray when I wake up, or when I go to bed, sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night get out of bed and remember to pray. I pray when I drive, and when I do study, and when I just need to talk to someone and my journal isn’t cutting it. But it isn’t my first instinct. It needs to be, and that is a change that I need to make in my life in order to increase the degree of my conversion.

                I know that I convert again and again, when I talk about the gospel, with anyone. Or I get an email from Africa telling me that I inspire him. When I go to Thanksgiving with the Toricelli’s and end up at the Henry’s with the Collins and fifty-some-odd people pray together. When I set the example to myself of who I want to be when I grow up. I will always be a convert, but I hope that there will not come a day in any of our lives that we aren’t converted. I hope that my conversion can be renewed daily as I live what I have come to believe. And finally, I hope that all of you can find it in yourselves to recognize the little things that re-convert you every single day, the little moments that remind you why you are here, who you are, and where you come from, and to just be thankful for those moments, because your personal conversion is a never-ending blessing from God that no one can ever take from you.

In the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

He did play a huge role, but not as much as I originally alluded to. I truly believe everything I wrote even if my times were a little off. I think writing this talk has made me miss him even more, but I know that he is doing great things. Teaching lots of people, stubborn people, but hey, he taught me, so he got some practice in.

Gospel Guru- Jordan Collins(aka Great Scott!) A leader/mentor focused around teaching the gospel

 



Sincerely,

SamanthaMarie

Number One?

It has been a long time! I got a job and it has pretty much consumed my life, I now work 12 hour night shifts at Roplast Industries...it is okay most of the time, just draining.

I haven't been focusing on my other goals because of it though, I have no idea what I weigh, but I feel lighter, I squat a lot at work so my thighs have been a-burning. other than that though, I work out here and there but not enough to burn more calories than I consume, just like morning warm-up type work-outs.

The calling is good, life itself is really good, I miss a lot of my friends but the holidays brought a lot of them to town and I got to see Grace so I am set for awhile.

I did receive my first talk, I give it next Sunday. Wish me luck!! I will be telling my conversion story...which means I say Great Scott!'s name a LOT. Win some, lose some I guess. I am trying to keep up with my studying but I am very behind. I need to make it a priority again, because in all honesty, I really miss it. Welp, I have to go get ready for work, see how fast that free time went? It is crazy!! But first, the first rough draft of my talk is done, here it is:

I am going to apologize in advance for any stuttering, and any excessive use of the word “umm”.

I so graciously received the ever-vague topic of “Anything You Want,” luckily Sutton offered up some suggestions, one of which was to tell the story of my conversion, so I suppose I should also apologize for talking about myself so much and the amount of times I am sure to say the name “Jordan”.

I spent, honestly, hours trying to figure out when my conversion story actually began, and perhaps unfortunately it began a long time ago. Naturally to figure it out, I went through all my old journals, which for those who don’t know me, is an extensive collection. I will skip a lot of years, don’t worry, some because of relevance, some because I just can’t say them out loud, let alone to an audience. I decided to start at the age of 6, when my mom married the man that I had already started calling “Dad”. Until that point of my life, despite the fire, the homeless months, Chris’s misguided attempts at our lives, my grandparents…I hadn’t ever heard of “Christ” unless it was pronounced “krissst” and ended in “mus”. Jesus, religion, God; were all foreign concepts to me. I didn’t know what prayer was, or why Shane talked to our food before we ate, or what it was like to believe in something. Shane (my dad) is a Jehovah’s Witness. My mom’s parents were religious when she was young, she grew up in a Witness home even, but because of her own trials she was convinced that if there was a God, he obviously didn’t care, so for her, teaching us religion gave us false hope. So he was not a part of our lives, until my dad came around. Now, he wasn’t model Witness. We didn’t pray every night, or read scriptures as a family, actually, the longer my parents were together the less religion seemed to be around.

We went to meeting for a few years, until my brother was born. The following few years were full of hit and miss Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. Now, the only thing they attend in a year is Memorial.

I am going to skip way ahead now, to when I was eleven, I broke my back. Or rather, my back broke me. I was asleep, it’s a long story, bottom line I still have no idea what happened to me; just that it did. In the years between 11 and 14 I went through countless tests, 29 MRI’s, 2 non-conclusive-scar-leaving biopsy’s, a ton of stress, and I even came to terms with death at one point when I was 12 when Cancer was the “logical cause” since my grandfather had died when I was eight from it. I went so far as writing a bucket list of nine things I never thought I would be able to do.

I tell you this because that was the first time in my life that I knelt at the end of my bed and asked God to help me. I asked that, if he couldn’t heal me, if he could at least make it not hurt to die, I asked if he would watch over my mom and my sister when I was gone, I asked him if he would let me make a friend before so someone not related to me would remember me. I cried myself to sleep every night when I could find sleep, I went to school and put up with all the stupid kids, and I started asking my grandparents about God, and his Son, and about the Truth. I met a Witness girl at meeting and went with her family to bible study and Tuesday meetings. I went with them when my family didn’t go on Sunday’s as well. I never learned anything, but I went and doodled on my notebook and wrote down the scriptures they looked up so I could read them with my grandpa later. I went through the motions. I was 14 when I stopped going entirely. It didn’t feel right, and I had made it through my back. I didn’t need God anymore, the biggest lie I have ever told myself. I wasn’t friends with the girl anymore; I had new worldly friends, I was starting high school, and belief wasn’t a priority in my life.

Now, backtracking a bit, in seventh grade I did make friends, one of which, was Our very own Trevor Hardwick. I didn’t know he was Mormon. He never talked about religion, in all honesty though, I wouldn’t have responded well to it if he had, I wasn’t ready. I didn’t recognize that I hadn’t gotten myself through my trials, I couldn’t see why I would even have trials if God cared. I know better now, of course. Back then though, I almost held God in contempt for the sheer amount of times I had had to face death and move on.

I was right where Satan wanted me.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I was a good kid, straight A’s, good friends, I wasn’t allowed to date so guys were a non-issue, I had seen the negative effects of alcohol and tobacco first hand, I pumped enough kegs as I kid I will never feel the urge to do it again. But I had decided that if I couldn’t see it then it wasn’t worth my time.

Now, I made friends in high school (who I love dearly) but were very set in their beliefs to a point where if you said something that even bordered on disagreeing with them, they would shove it down your throat, and I already had grandparents for that, so it wasn’t appreciated. By that point I kind of shut out anything religious, I told myself that there was no way to figure out who was right. So I didn’t try.

Sophomore year about five of my friends divulged their crush to me (all the same guy) and you will NEVER guess who it was. Don’t worry, I am going to tell you, but for those of you who don’t know Jordan Collins, he is great, you should make it a point to meet him when he gets back from Africa. He is one of the absolute best friends I have ever had. Back to high school though, he was undoubtedly attractive, but I got real sick real fast of hearing gooey girl-crush things from all my friends. I didn’t have any classes with him, or know him personally, or care about his perfect smile or mor-do.

By the end of sophomore year; however, our groups had merged and bonded through homecomings and he hung out with us every day, and I finally asked what “Mor-Do” meant. And that was the first time I had heard of Mormons. We talked a bit, exchanged numbers, and that summer I asked a few questions, we laughed, you know, became friends, blah-blah-blah. Junior year I did have classes with him, and I am not sure exactly when it happened but it became a habit that every time my grandparents talked to me about Anything religious, or scripture based, I turned around and asked Jordan what he believed about it. In a lot of aspects the two religions matched up for a long time: the trinity for example. As I kept asking questions the differences started emerging and my curiosity just kept growing and growing. With Junior year came more friends crushing on Jordan, a closer friendship between us, and a lot of homework help. I found myself talking to him almost every day, either about religion or about school, or just making jokes and always being sarcastic. I went to him for everything I could, because whether I liked it or not, he always gave me the best advice, and he always told me point blank when I was being stupid and just needed to swallow my feelings and move on. He always told me why I was being stupid to, like he gave me a list of reason, we argued for about nine and half hours once about it.

By the summer between Junior and Senior year I was staying up until 2 or 3 in the morning multiple times a week asking Jordan questions until one of us fell asleep, usually him. I felt annoying, but I didn't stop so...I asked him about God and about Hell and dis-fellowship, gays, the whole caffeine thing everyone says, I asked about garments and modesty, and what I learned was called the presidency in a ward or branch, about God having a physical body (which was a huge revelation that someone actually believed he had one, that for me, was huge because I had been asking that question for years). He told me about the three kingdoms of glory, and about the priesthood authority, about the spirit world, and life after death. I asked about prayer a lot. And so much more.

Senior year I started dating this guy named Josh, and he didn’t like how much I went to Jordan with my issues and questions, and well, he really just didn’t like me even being friends with Jordan. I told him I wasn’t going to completely give up Jordan, but that I would stop texting him so much. I could see where he was coming from, so the questions, the late night conversations, pretty much everything short of AP Homework help, just stopped. After a little while of me brushing conversations off, Jordan didn’t push it, he isn’t that type of guy, he just let it go.  So for about five and a half months, that’s how things were. I made huge, life-changing mistakes in those months that pushed the boundaries of my morals. I was happy, but I wasn’t being the best me that I had been becoming.

Through those months things were great and then okay, but one thing never changed and drove me absolutely batty. Josh’s insecurities about Jordan seemed to escalate and were actually a huge reason that the relationship ended in the terms that it was. Jordan and I started talking again outside of school,  the same week, there was a very…public, very almost aggressive incident at the school blood drive. After that Jordan and my original relationship picked right back up where it left off, only it started speeding up, I started asking my questions (and I had a lot by this point) I think it was a little overwhelming for him.

One night around midnight, he asked me if he could give me a Book of Mormon. I was skeptical because I had already asked my grandpa his opinion of the Mormons and he, well he definitely had one. But I thought about it, and I figured, this is a wonderful guy, the other Mormons I know at school are amazing (Jen Carlson was also a very close friend by that point, I asked her some things while with josh, even then I needed my dose of Mormon apparently). Anyways, I told myself that, there was no harm reading a book that some of the best people in my life lived by. I thought that, even if I didn’t end up believing in it, I would probably become a better person just from reading it. So I said yes, and the very next day Jordan gave me a little blue book and when I opened it in my next class I saw that he had written in it, which initially made me a little upset because I mean he had written in my book! But then I read what he wrote, and I almost cried in class. He had marked Moroni 10:3-5. And also his favorite scripture: Ether 12:27, which I didn’t actually know he marked until recently. As I began reading I had an abundance more questions, and he tried to answer all of them, a couple weeks later he asked if I was interested in attending General Conference with his family. I didn’t really know what I was signing up for, but I said yes, and I absolutely just wanted nothing more than for it to just keep going on, I did not want to go home, or stop taking notes. I wanted to just sit in that chapel and listen to them speak. That same week he asked if I would take the lessons with the missionaries. I was freaked out, I was thinking “oh man, what has my curiosity led to” what will my parents think? But most importantly I wanted to know if I believed any of it, so I said yes. The first lesson was okay, I wasn’t comfortable with the missionaries yet, thankfully Jordan was always there. I am very uncomfortable around new people, we met multiple times every week.

One thing I do remember from the first lesson was when Elder Lundell spoke for the first time, and asked me if I would ever consider baptism. It was, no joke, the first words out of his mouth. I said, way less eloquently than this, “that I would be baptized if and only if I truly believed that the religion was true, and not a moment sooner.” A couple more lessons down and I just knew. I knew there was no way I would ever be able to forget about the priesthood, about the way I felt at general conference, about the Restoration, the way I felt when I read the Book of Mormon, the way it had already impacted my life. And it was at Jordan’s house, at a lesson when they asked if I would be baptized on May 11th. I hesitated, not because I didn’t want it, but because of my family. I said yes anyways, again. My parents knew at this point that I was taking the lessons…but they didn’t know about my conversations and curiosity before that so…it was a huge shock to them and my dad wouldn’t sign the paper that would allow me to be baptized…luckily I didn’t need his signature anyways. To this day he believes I converted for some guy, and for a while it bothered me, but I decided that as long as I know why I converted that he can think whatever he wants.

Before my baptism I tried to make them understand, they sat in on lessons, my grandparents did too. It was a bad idea. 100% the biggest mistake from my conversion. It hurt me, it was horrifyingly painful to listen to their opinions when the missionaries left, and then my phone buzzed and I was sitting there in the corner of my couch crying while I was being, instructed, for lack of a better term, for my stupidity. But as I said, my phone buzzed and I read a message from Jordan that said, and I quote, “That was awesome. One of the best lessons I have ever been to.” Which just made me cry for a whole new reason. The missionaries sent me a message that was almost identical. They loved the lesson, it was adventurous and different. So I got interviewed, got baptized, confirmed, a couple months later Jed and Tiffany Hancock took Jordan and I to the Temple, and he baptized me there too, it was amazing.

And I could say, “And that’s my conversion story!” but that’s not true. Everything I have said up to this point has been simply a very long winded testimony about conversion. I experience conversion as I live the gospel, every time I kneel down to pray, or I open my scriptures to study, or I see the beauty and think “He put that here for me to witness” or I talk about the Gospel with anyone, when I get emails from Africa telling me that I inspire him, when I go to Thanksgiving with the Torricelli’s and the Collins’ and fifty some-odd people pray together, when I set the example to myself of who I want to be when I grow up and get married and have kids. I convert again and again, every day that I live true to the Gospel, I can’t imagine my life any differently, I know that Jordan’s favorite scripture is true, I know that God gives me weakness so that it can be turned into strength, I know that through faith, and action, I can do anything with His help. I can overcome anything. I will always be a convert, but I hope that there won’t come a day in any of our lives that we aren’t converted. I hope that my conversion can be renewed daily as I live what I have come to believe. And finally, I hope that all of you can find it in yourselves to recognize the little things that re-convert you every single day, the little moments that remind you why you are here, what you believe, and where you come from, and to just be thankful for those moments, because your personal conversion, is your blessing from God that no one will ever be able to take from you.

I say these things in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.

 So, there it is, Draft Number One.

Declaration-assertion of belief or knowledge; avowal.

 

 

Sincerely,

SamanthaMarie

 

Apologies and Adulation

I went to send a refraction email and this is what it turned into. I couldn't send it by the time I finished typing. I don't even know what happened in the five-ish minutes it took to type this to him before I realized what it was saying...

 

P.P.S. I feel like that was very blandishing. I don't mean to adulate you in that way and I want you to know that, even though I hold you in high esteems I don't put you up on a pedestal. Jesus has a pedestal, yours is more of a gratitude and appreciation stepping stone (or a sidewalk curb)...I think it is anyways. Honestly I know I shouldn't give you so much credit but I cant help it. Anyways I just wanted to apologize if it was too adulating and...I don't know, enthusiastically optimistic of your character? Listen to me, I sound like I am writing a formal letter to someone that I wronged...maybe I wont send this after all. I worry too much what people think about me, I know it is wrong and pessimistic and flawed...but I can't help it. Someone (you know them so I won't say who) asked me recently why I think people are so self conscious and I was afraid to answer (to give away that much of myself verbally), so I shrugged and said nothing. After all, I will always be first and foremost "Shy, Silent Sam". But, inside I always answer the questions as much as I can, usually always skeptically. I know, or maybe just want to believe, that God gave us all at least one physical attribute that we can be proud of, for example, he gave me my eyes. I have never seen the beauty everyone seems to see, but I am proud that strangers stop me in stores just to comment on them. To me, they are just blue eyes that get bright when I cry. To me they are the tools we are all supplied with to notice the physical flaws. Yet, somehow, my eyes give me confidence because of the opinions of others. So maybe people are self conscious so that we can be humble...but God knows that we also have to be proud of who he made us, and therefore we are only partially self conscious. If that makes sense. Maybe we aren't self conscious at all, and we are just aware of the imperfections God has brandished us with that we might not put ourselves and each other on pedestals where we don't belong. I definitely am not sure if that last part made any sense...maybe I am crazy (but you already know the answer to that, don't you?) Sometimes I think that we are all crazy, but then I think that if that were true then the word wouldn't have any true meaning, it would be no more significant than the word "normal" or "ordinary," right? What actually defines someone as crazy anyways? Is it just a cruel way of saying "mentally different"? Who cares, right? I don't know, maybe I just think too much. It's odd that all this can come from a single question someone asked in the moment...the scary thing is that these thoughts don't even break the surface of the explosion of inner-webbed thoughts in my mind, just a few that I can actually process in a way that makes sense...sort of...

 

I don't regret the email I originally sent it just had some very adulating moments that I became self conscious about when I thought about the different ways some things could be taken, not the he will take them that way, because he is so...he just doesn't think like that. It's one of the many things I love about him (not in the way people want or expect though). Maybe I am just too worried about my words. Which is truly a shame, all things considered. I know that when I write fiction I desire the world to read it, but when it is my personal thoughts I can't seem to separate my emotions and my worries from the information needed in order for things to sound the way I want. I get all tongue tied and say something stupid, like asking if peppermint ice-cream is warm or cold...yeah, I did that. I just didn't mean what it sounds like. That doesn't make any sense either...

But one thing is for sure, I am glad I had the sense not to send this to him, it would have been confusing and wasted time for him.

 

Adulation-overenthusiastic praise.

 

Sincerely,

SamanthaMarie



Selflessly Ignorant

Can you give too much of yourself to someone else? Is it possible to overdose on unselfishness? I don't think so...not for me anyways.

No, I am not a golden little perfect ninny. I am human, I don't always do the compassionate thing, but I want to. I want it to be second nature...no, I want it to be my initial instinct. It's more than that though. I want it to run my life. I want to be that person that lives for the wellbeing of others...and I know I can be. I know who I am on the inside, I know who I want to be, I just don't always see it in myself because I beat myself up for missing little acts of kindness I could have done, but didn't because in the moment that the opportunity arose I didn't recognize it as the compassionate and Christ-like thing to do. I beat myself up inside for not seeing in the moment the things that will make me who I want to be.

But is that in itself a selfish act? To be hard on myself for being ignorant to the needs of others? Is it selfish to want to be something that I am not naturally? Again the answer is no. I fully believe that I am that person. I just need to be more open to the world around me I suppose, I need to open my eyes to what is happening. I need to lift the veil that I am looking through and discard the blindness that I carry with me everyday. I know (thanks to the wise words of an incredibly dear friend whom I love very much) that I will never see entirely clear, there will always be a thin fog that masks the minute deeds that could mean the biggest difference to someone. I know that I will never see everything, or know everything. I understand that, and I have almost come to terms with it...almost.

My question, however; remains to haunt me...can you ever give too much of yourself to the welfare of others? I mean, we are commanded to Love one another, and told very bluntly to be in the service of our fellow man. For when we are in the service of our fellow man we are only in the service of our God. I don't know anyone who would say you can over-serve God...actually quite the opposite, you can never serve him enough. With these truths it stand to reason that we will never serve each other enough. In which case I can be comforted that as an imperfect human being, I am expected to miss things. But, I do know that by living the Gospel and consistently praying for the will and the strength to recognize the needs of others that I might come just a little bit closer than I would if I didn't possess the power to speak with my Father in Heaven.

I challenge all who read this to recognize one thing that someone might need. Just one thing, weekly, and to help them. It can be as easy as giving your leftovers to a homeless guy instead of letting them sit in your fridge for a week before tossing them, pet sitting for a neighbor, visiting someone at a care home and listening to their stories, buying one stuffed animal for a little girl in the hospital, picking up a piece of trash when you walk down the road or on campus, stop for the stray dog and help it find it's way home...hold a door open even if you have to wait five seconds for them to reach the door.

We were all told growing up to "treat others the way you want to be treated," "be the change you wish to see in the world," and on every classroom wall in a numbered list, "Be Safe. Be Responsible. Be Respectful."

So do it. I dare you. I ask you. Please, I know that all selfless acts will lead to greater blessings.

 

Magnanimous-proceeding from or revealing generosity or nobility of mind. Giving and kind.

 

Sincerely

SamanthaMarie

Called to...Hired to...

On Friday my prayers were answered and strangely I might add because while I was hired by the company I have been wanting...my schedule conflicts with the most important thing in my life: Church. My work schedule will be Friday thru Sunday and every other Thursday. 6a.m. to 6p.m. For those who don't know or simply aren't aware, Sunday is the Sabbath and one of the ten commandments is to keep the Sabbath holy. In other words: Sunday should be reserved for worship and Christ-like activities such as service. But for the foreseeable future I will be inspecting weighing etc. plastic bags at work...glamorous and exciting on Sunday.

Now, I am very thankful for the work and I need  the job...but I need the job mostly to save for a mission and how am I supposed to serve a mission if I can't attend church for the time being? I cant partake of the sacrament or be a devoted daughter of god and follow the commandments and earn enough money to serve at the same time. Not with the job I have been offered.

I have talked to higher officials in the branch (i.e. Great Scott!'s dad and President Stutzeneggar) and was given spiritual advice as to how I should proceed to keep the spirit in my life and live as well as I can without the blessing of the sacrament. I will be attending regular classes and activities on Mondays and Wednesdays as well as the monthly Preach my Gospel meetings (at least the ones held in Oroville), but I am very down because my Sunday worship is extremely important to me. Now, with that said I received a blessing today in the form of a calling. My first calling since being baptized (nothing glamorous of course!). I am going to be making the programs for the Sunday sacrament meetings...you know, the ones I won't be able to attend. I will be set apart in a couple weeks and let me just say, I am nervously stoked!

I am so excited to have my first calling especially since it is just one more amazing thing that I get to tell Great Scott! about. I am very anxious to see how the next few months pan out and  I am exceedingly anxious to renew my covenants with the sacrament (which I did today) and I know that my testimony of the sacrament will greatly grow with the absence of it over the next few months. I hope that those that have the authority can uphold me in their prayers and bestow upon me faith that I may remain in good spirit until I can renew my covenants again. I cannot wait until the day that I can serve our Heavenly Father as a  missionary.

Please, keep me in your prayers and let me know if you need to be in mine! I would love to pray for you!

Calling-vocation, profession, or trade. A call or summons to serve.

 

SamanthaMarie

Great Scott!

For those who haven't read the other posts I am a Mormon convert...and one of my close friends is in Africa serving a mission. This post is about him.

Recently my friend baptized me into the church, and went with me to the temple and baptized me there as well. He brought a lot of spirit into my life, and for a couple years he has been my "go-to" if I had a question about...anything really. He always put me in my place when I was wrong and wasn't afraid to argue with me for about 9 hours until I made up with my best friend because it was a stupid fight...and then continue to argue with me over WHY I decided to make up with her. In the long run I always felt like I left the conversation a better person than when it started.

BUT! now he is in Africa and the spirit in my life has plummeted. Now, I know there are tons of Mormons out there, and I know I can find the spirit elsewhere, it's simply that I am very comfortable asking him stupid, yet, important questions that I can't seem to bring myself to ask others. It is kind of frustrating.

HOWEVER! I have gotten two emails from him since he has left and each time I get one I can feel a little bit of his spirit from Thousands of miles away!! It is actually quite astonishing. These emails aren't long, and really don't have a lot of substance, but he answers my questions...and asks a ton. It is nice to know that even thousands of miles away he still supports me and my decision to be baptized. Here at home the spirit is waning because of the lack of support I feel from those around me, but so far every two weeks I get a new dose of spirit from Africa, and it lasts just about to the next one.

Now, I don't expect an email from him every two weeks for the next two years. That's not at all realistic. I am just one friend among many, many, many friends not to mention family. I simply know that when he does remember and get around to me he helps me here in tiny little Oroville...and he probably doesn't even realize it.

I am very proud of him for serving a mission; he is a great example of the type of missionary I wish to be. He is fully dedicated and loves every snail eating, humid, "bucket-shower" part of it.

"Choosing to serve a mission has been a great decision, the best! don't get me wrong, it's been really hard, but in the end it's all worth it. " -Great Scott!

For those who haven't figured it out "Great Scott!" is the nickname I have for this friend of mine. It is said with an exasperated obviously fake British accent for those who can't seem to pronounce it in their minds.


 To Great Scott! (two-plus years from now...) : I want to thank you (again) for all the wondrous opportunities and truths that you have brought into my life...again.

 

Mentor-a wise and trusted counselor or teacher; a spiritual advisor.

 

 

Sincerely,

Samantha Marie