Powerful Women

Headlines this morning sparked an internal discussion that I wanted to share. First, the passing of the celebrated poet, author, and civil rights activist, Maya Angelou, is a great loss not just to the literary community but to all who admired and respected her honesty and tenacity. Following behind that was the Forbes list of the 100 Most Powerful Women, including 9 heads of state, 28 CEOs, 18 who founded their own companies, 13 billionaires, and a handful of entertainers turned philanthropists. Brilliant, smart, influential...but I honestly couldn't find a single one that I would consider a powerful influence in my life. I read through the entire list- women I have great respect for and whose hard work and dedication have influenced our current global culture. However, at the same time, I believe that this list had a very narrow definition of "powerful" and "influential". I'm not blaming Forbes- as a business and political news company that is their focus. No one- not Forbes or Times or Oprah- can fully depict or describe all the ways in which women are powerful. For their purposes, they did need parameters. Like income, twitter followers, corporate decision making power, etc.

Those things will fade one day. No one will take their billions with them to heaven and they certainly can't take millions of Facebook fans either. Job positions change. Angela Merkel has been the chancellor of Germany since 2005, but one day that will no longer be the case. There was also another list of the most powerful moms, but it was just a section of the earlier list-- as if adding as a side note, 'oh and they happen to have children in addition to running their company'. True power is not intrinsically linked to positions, wealth, or fame. True power comes from faith, love virtue, covenants, and obedience- all of which the world cannot take away. True influence comes not from being a CEO, CFO, Senator, or news anchor. True influence comes from the titles of mother, wife, sister, and friend (I'm specifically speaking about women, but this applies generally). Wealth comes not from the dollars earned, money donated, or material possessions, but from the depth of close relationships, profound love, and an abundance of laughter.

I think of my mother. She is a powerful woman. Blessed with many gifts and talents, she shares them freely and fights for what she believes. Is she perfect? No. But power isn't always in perfection. Sometime power is in the imperfect and teaching your children and others how to learn from, cope with, and improve upon our imperfections. My mom has taught me that power can be quiet and subtle by the worlds standards and yet, shape our entire lives.

I think of my friend Erica, who knows the power of covenants. After losing her husband this past year, I have seen her gather strength, power, and assurance from the covenants she has made. I have seen the incredible influence she has had on her family, her son, and all those who constantly pray and watch out for her. She is a powerful woman.

I think of my friend Kilee, who knows first-hand the healing and enabling power of the Atonement as she works through Betrayal Trauma and her husband's addiction. She knows there is power in honesty and vulnerability. I love how she recently posted, "Owning our story and loving ourselves through the process is the bravest thing we will ever do...Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage.Truth and courage aren't always comfortable, but they're never weakness."--Brene Brown"

I could keep going. Million of powerful women will never make the Forbes list, but they will forever change the lives of hundreds, maybe even thousands by their lives of faith, virtue, and love. Beauty, true inner beauty, is inherent and not in the eye of the beholder. But power? Definitely in the eye of the beholder.

Tidbit Thursday- Arizona Style

It's been awhile since I've done a Tidbit Thursday and I just wanted to share some gems about Arizona. About the state, about living here, etc.

Did you know....?

• Arizona leads the nation in copper production. In fact, the amount of copper in the roof of the capitol building amounts to about 4,800,000 pennies.
• The age of a saguaro cactus is determined by its height.
• Arizona became the 48th state on Valentine's Day of 1912.
• Pioneer filmmaker, Cecil B. DeMille originally traveled to Flagstaff to make his first film but he arrived there in the middle of a storm and decided to move operations further west, to Hollywood. His film, The Squaw Man (1914), went on to be wildly successful, launching the fledgling movie industry and establishing Hollywood as the movie capital of the world.
• The Arizona Cardinals are the oldest continuous franchise in the National Football League, dating back to 1898 ( Don't worry- I'm still a Colts fan).
• Sunshine is in huge supply in Phoenix. The Valley averages 211 clear days and 85 partly cloudy days per year

• The name Arizona is a Spanish version of the Pima Indian word arizonac for “little spring place”. The Aztec’s version is arizuma meaning “silver-bearing”.

Now for just some funny random facts...

• A crocodile can't move its tongue and cannot chew. Its digestive juices are so strong that it can digest a steel nail.
• At a glance, the Celsius scale makes more sense than the Fahrenheit scale for temperature measuring. But its creator, Anders Celsius, was an oddball scientist. When he first developed his scale, he made freezing 100 degrees and boiling 0 degrees, or upside down. No one dared point this out to him, so fellow scientists waited until Celsius died to change the scale.
• Guinness Book of Records holds the record for being the book most often stolen from Public Libraries.
• Bats always turn left when exiting a cave. To the left, to the left.

 

 

Red Walls and Comfort Food

The last couple posts have been on the more serious side, so I just wanted to share some silly happiness.

I have been painting one wall in my living room red. Bright red. Red Geranium red. It's amazing. I still need to do a second coat of paint since this color shows every single roller and paintbrush mark. I'm also doing the back of my front door the same red. It makes me happy and causes lots of random happy dancing. Which for me, is not so random because it is actually quite a regular activity at my home. Kind of like this.

It's not all happy dances in my life everyday. Yesterday was kind of a crummy day at work with lots of angry phone calls. It is summer time in Arizona and for some reason people flip out a little about scorpions and other bugs. Granted, I don't like them either, but seriously...when you call in to complain that you have spider webs all over- GET A BROOM! Hello. Do you know how fast a spider can rebuild a web? Within hours! We are not magic bug vanishers. Anyway...to the happy part. I went home and decided to order take out. When I check my mail there was a flyer from a Japanese restaurant with "We Deliver" in all caps. I think the Hallelujah Chorus started playing. I caved and ordered sushi. It was wonderfully delicious. But I was also craving fondant. Yum. Most people don't like fondant; they pick off their slice of wedding cake and only eat the cake part. Regular fondant will do in a pinch, but homemade marshmallow fondant is the stuff dreams are made of. I am currently scheming on how to obtain some so if you have any ideas let me know. I have a great recipe, but as far as all the kitchen supplies I am sadly lacking a couple necessary items. But here is a good recipe : )

"Enjoy the little things, for one day you may look back and realize they were the big things." -Robert Brault

The One I'm Learning To Let Go

It's wedding season ladies and gentlemen. Facebook is filled with engagement announcements, followed by pictures, than the invites go out, the presents are bought, travel plans made. Finally the big day- white dress, flowers everywhere, the cake, the laughter, the friends and family, and mostly, the love. I have no fewer than seven friends tying the knot this summer and I couldn't be more excited for each and every one of them. (I'd thought all my friends were married, so it's a good thing I made more friends.) It brings back a lot of memories about when I was doing wedding planning. All the excitement, the dreams and hopes of each couple, the cute little quirks and personalities. And all that love. Wow.

But it also brings back memories of a wedding I never got to plan, that I didn't get to finish planning.

This post has been sitting as a draft, patiently waiting for me to have the strength to post it. And I've been slowly working up the courage to finish writing it. I've been reading it over and over again to figure out the right words. Maybe there are no right words. I shared about unrequited first love and then about the aches that never completely go away, but for a long time now I've held something so tight I could barely speak about it.

It was before I started this blog and in the first months of writing on here. Before I ever imagined sharing intensely personal things online. It was Before. Sometimes that's how I divide my life- Before Andy (name changed) and After Andy.

Andy was my best friend, my humorous half, a tender mercy straight from God to remind me that I was worth loving. And I loved him.

One beautiful night he gave me his grandmother's ring and promised me forever. We were thinking a September wedding.

Two days later he deployed. A few months later I was sitting on the couch in my apartment and I got a knock on my door. I can still remember all these stupid details like the book I was half reading while daydreaming, or the email sitting on my computer screen, and the song that was playing. Opening the door, two men stood there and I knew before they even said anything. He wasn't coming home.

In retrospect, it's odd that I can remember all those irrelevant details before opening the door but after that everything went black. I didn't pass out, but I don't remember what all was said. I could breathe but I couldn't find my heartbeat. Almost as if my heart stilled before shattering.

There are days after that I don't remember.

Entire weeks where I only have a handful of memories.

Other situations in my family were happening and I'm embarrassed to admit that I was so angry at all of those things, I had kept Andy to myself, only briefly mentioning I was dating someone. And then he was gone. There were so many regrets- that I didn't get to introduce him to my family, that we didn't take more pictures, etc,etc.

I know I will see Andy again. I know he is watching over me and cheering me on. But I miss him. I carry his Marine ring in my purse and when it hurts a lot, I take it out to hold against my heart. I am grateful every day for what he taught me and how he loved me. He reminded me that I do deserve that kind of relationship, that kind of respect and love. They say some people come into our lives and leave footprints on our heart- Andy came into my life and took my heart with him.

Throughout my mission, Heavenly Father gave me a new heart and filled it with so much love for the gospel and the people in Houston. Coming home, very real fear surfaced about being able to move on and love again. I wrote this to several companions from the mission before going on the first date after coming home: "But I was scared out of mind, because this meant moving on, getting serious about making a future for myself. It was easy on the mission to get wrapped up in the work, to focus on just working hard and being obedient today. And while the mission healed me tremendously, coming home and putting it into action still makes me scared out of my mind. It means I'm really letting him go."

It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes, " Because in the end you can't always choose what (or who) to keep. You can only choose how you let it go."

There is so much I haven't said and I'm sure I could go on and on now that's I've opened this subject. I could tell you all about him and why I loved him. I could tell you how I've learned to cope. But I can't. The words won't come yet. Maybe another day I can share more, but for today this is enough.

When It Still Hurts

After the death of her infant daughter, recently a friend of mine blogged about how she resolved not to complain about morning sickness during her second pregnancy and bemoan sleepless nights and spit up all over her clothes. She went on to say that her heart goes out to all those who so want children and cannot, who have lost children, and so many other circumstances. I love how she said, "be careful what you say, since you don't know who around you is hurting so bad for the very thing you have!".

I just want to expand on the heart of that message- that so many of us carry quiet aches and longings in our hearts. Through the atonement of Jesus Christ scars can be healed, hearts mended, bitterness purged, and loneliness eased. However, sometimes that does not take away the residual ache. Like the lingering pain of unrequited first love. The dull ache that remains even years after the passing of a loved one. And the underlying loneliness that becomes almost a background over the years to one who longs for a marriage and family of their own.

I think of another friend who lost her husband this past year. A young widow with an infant son, I have seen the outpouring of love and support shown to her following her tragedy. I worry that after these first couple months, maybe first couple years, the expressed support might diminish. After all, life happens. We move on, other tragedies come while still more joyful moments are all around us. I think of her as I do housework, as I walk to work, and as I sit in my rocking chair to watch the sunset. Tears were shed the day he passed away, but at least on my part I have cried more for her struggle and pain since that day. She recently said, "I know that his passing from this life does not make him gone from me forever, and I know that the time we lost here will be a mere minute when compared to eternity.And that does not take away the pain of missing him now. That does not cancel out the grief I feel every day that he is not here. So still I weep. But because of Him, one day I will weep no more."

And I think of two other friends, whose health intervened with all their plans, even to serve a mission. Both finished their missionary service earlier than expected, honorably released, and I know that the Lord is proud of them. But I also know of the guilt and depression both felt afterwards. I talked to them as they unloaded all the weight they carried around, when they wondered if they did enough, if they are enough (which of course they are!). They are wonderful and incredible people and I know with all my heart that they fulfilled the Lord's purposes. Oh, how I wish I could take away that ache of unfulfilled plans and dreams!

I learn constantly about the atonement of Jesus Christ- how it works, why it does, what it covers. And I will continue to deepen my understanding daily. So, sometimes I ask myself, why does it still hurt? Why, when I know the Savior can completely take the pain away, why does some still linger? I think they are actually several reasons.

First, Lance B Wickman once said, "grief is the natural by-product of love. One cannot selflessly love another person and not grieve at his suffering or eventual death. The only way to avoid the grief would be to not experience the love; and it is love that gives life its richness and meaning." If we grieve deeply it is because we first loved deeply. The Lord allows us to feel the fullness of this mortal experience, to reach toward the ideal love our Heavenly Father has for us. 

Second, the Savior promised he would not leave us comfortless speaking in reference to the Holy Ghost. Yet I believe that it happens another way as well. As we experience trials and heartaches, we develop compassion and empathy for others despite the differences in circumstance or challenges. The Lord has allowed us to act in his place, through service and stewardship, to lift up the hands that hang down. Does it not seem in character for our loving Father to, when the Savior who felt all pain and heartache cannot personally attend each child, to send one who in small measure has felt such pain? I believe so. And does he only send those who went through a similar situation who have long since healed and "recovered"? No, often the ones who come still feel that little ache too no matter how many years have passed.

Now, both of those are kind of side-effects and I wouldn't say that we go through adversity and the lingering grief solely to serve others. Just as the true purpose of repentance is a change of heart as we strive to become like the Savior, I am coming to understand that sometimes the lingering ache and sorrow is part of that same "becoming" process. Oft times, grief and sorrow and heartache, lead to patience, compassion, humility, meekness, charity, increased faith, etc--all the Christlike virtues we are earnestly striving for as disciples of the Savior. The quiet heartaches change our very natures as we learn to turn to the Lord daily, especially as the support or understanding of the world and friends may wane. Perhaps President Monson said it best:

“Our Heavenly Father … knows that we learn and grow and become stronger as we face and survive the trials through which we must pass. We know that there are times when we will experience heartbreaking sorrow, when we will grieve, and when we may be tested to our limits. However, such difficulties allow us to change for the better, to rebuild our lives in the way our Heavenly Father teaches us, and to become something different from what we were—better than we were, more understanding than we were, more empathetic than we were, with stronger testimonies than we had before.” 

Hopefully I've been able to express these thoughts coherently because I believe this idea really does matter. To know that when we still feel pain, loss, ache, and longing, that it too is part of the atonement. The atonement, in more than one sense, is the means by which we are become at one with God. And through the residual and often long-lasting heartaches, we grow, our characters deepen, and our hearts yield to Heavenly Father. Even in our lowest moments, He is drawing us to Him to prepare for eternal life.

8477 Days

 

 

8477 days without you.

 

 

1211 weeks without your hand in mine.

 

 

278.56 months without your laugh filling my heart with joy

 

 

203,448 hours of dreams filled with only you.

 

 

12,206,880 minutes of this magical love we have spanning the distance between us,

no matter where we are.

 

 

732,412,800 seconds of my heart beating solely for you,

keeping time until I see your smile,

hear your laugh,

and feel your hand in mine.

And that's about 854,481,600 heartbeats just for you.

 

 

I love you.

 

 

 

- Excerpt from my new book "Forever Yours"

Can't and Can

There are some things I just can't blog about. Things that if blurted out could potentially hurt feelings and relationships, no matter how true. Things that if typed out and presented to the world might give the impression that I am a bitter, angry, pathetic, and judgemental person, when the truth is that those are only moments. Perhaps some people can say what they want and let the chips fall where they may, or others that don't care if a rant portrays the very worst of them. But no matter how long I puzzled over how to express some frustration, anger, loneliness, and resentment--there just wasn't a good way to write it. I know, I know- this from the woman who can spill her guts about a broken heart from her first love and all sorts of other deeper issues. So I won't do it.

But there are things I can write. I can write about the only way I am able to cope and figure out times like this in my life. (Besides chocolate,a good book, and a good friend.) It is only through the Atonement of Jesus Christ that I can overcome trials, find relief, and gain strength to push onward.
 In this past conference, Elder Bednar put it so beautifully in his talk :

 

"Thus, the Savior has suffered not just for our sins and iniquities—but also for our physical pains and anguish, our weaknesses and shortcomings, our fears and frustrations, our disappointments and discouragement, our regrets and remorse, our despair and desperation, the injustices and inequities we experience, and the emotional distresses that beset us.

 

There is no physical pain, no spiritual wound, no anguish of soul or heartache, no infirmity or weakness you or I ever confront in mortality that the Savior did not experience first. In a moment of weakness we may cry out, “No one knows what it is like. No one understands.” But the Son of God perfectly knows and understands, for He has felt and borne our individual burdens. And because of His infinite and eternal sacrifice (see Alma 34:14), He has perfect empathy and can extend to us His arm of mercy. He can reach out, touch, succor, heal, and strengthen us to be more than we could ever be and help us to do that which we could never do relying only upon our own power. Indeed, His yoke is easy and His burden is light."