Heart In Thy Hands

So I'm laying in bed last night and the words to this poem/song just came into my mind. I couldn't sleep until I at least wrote down the chorus and a few other lines then I finished the rest today. This year has been really challenging, but I feel a bit of deja vu. We go through hard times and think that we've been pushed to our very limits, but then the next phase comes and is harder than the last. So if you are in one of these cycles too, just know you're not alone. I know our pleas are heard, though the answers don't always come right away. This is just a rough draft version so I might shape it up a bit, but I feel it needs to be a song and I have the melody in my head so I'll have to find someone to help me write the music.

Heart In Thy Hands

The days are filled with growth and work
and weekends with friends and fun,
but when the night comes I wonder if
I'll still be alone when all is said and done.
Doubts start to crowd my mind
Not good enough, too this or that.
I fall to the floor to drum it out.

Dear Father above, I'm down on my knees
pouring my soul out to thee.
Help me hear thy voice,
help me see thy hand
guiding me through thy plan.
Father, I put my heart in thy hands.

I should be counting lucky starts
for I finally found The One,
but now with this ring on my finger
I can't seem to quite measure up.
Expectations got all mixed up
and communication crossed.
Maybe I'm not what He though I'd be.

Dear Father above, I'm down on my knees
pouring my soul out to thee.
Help me hear thy voice,
help me see thy hand
guiding me through thy plan.
Father, I put my heart in thy hands.

Lots of questions again and again-
When will we become a party of three?
We answer with faith and through smiles
masking the pain and the tears.
As we lost one, then another,
our souls filled with sorrow,
But holding onto the Lord's promises of tomorrow.

Dear Father above, I'm down on my knees
pouring my soul out to thee.
Help me hear thy voice,
help me see thy hand
guiding me through thy plan.
Father, I put my heart in thy hands.

Why does each new phase feel harder to bear?
Maybe patience,
or timing,
or a bend in the road
keep me from seeing how to carry this load.

Dear Father above, I'm down on my knees
pouring my soul out to thee.
Help me hear thy voice,
help me see thy hand
guiding me through thy plan.
Father, I put my heart in thy hands.

As life continues to evolve and transform, I find myself trying to keep up. I've started another blog about my adventures and experiences in the Big Apple. I will continue to post more personal writings here, but all my content about New York will be there. Please check it out and share with friends. Also, any tips or suggestions are welcome.
https://reluctantnewyorker.com 

Here is the introductory post on the blog!

The Reluctant New Yorker

If you ask your group of friends about New York City, there is bound to be at least someone who has traveled to The City (yes, it gets capitalized). Visited, traveled, lived there for a bit, maybe even from here. When I first decided that after getting married I would join my husband here in New York, I was bombarded by numerous and varied responses. And everyone had their favorite part- Broadway, the architecture, museums, the food, etc, but most people were jealous that I was going to be living in Manhattan.

I, on the other hand, was apprehensive. I had visited New York before. One summer during high school I did an intern/study program here in the city. That was enough for me. Contrary to what I had been told before then, I found the city to be clean and people were friendly enough. I mean, not Midwest or Southern kind of friendly, but polite at least. But at 16 I found the city to be too big, too loud, too demanding for my tastes. And now at 27, it still is. However, finding myself here I am determined to take advantage of all the opportunities and experiences New York City offers.

I’m not from the city, obviously. Nor did I always the dream to move to the city to pursue a dream or career. I did not even put New York City on a pedestal as the epitome of a big city. What I’m trying to say is that I don’t romanticize The Big Apple, but that at the same time I want to make the most of my time here. So I’m starting this blog to chronicle the adventures and share some tips, tricks, suggestions, and insights on one of the most famous cities. Even if you’ve lived here you whole life, I promise there is always more to learn about this place. And if you’re planning a trip to NYC or moving here, I will give you the inside scoop.

Two Pennies For My Thoughts

I've been absent for a bit with published posts, but I have half a dozen ones partially done. Lots of thoughts, not enough time. Life in New York feels fast and slow all at the same time. Days go by quickly yet weeks are slow. A New York minute can be both the blink of an eye or an eternity on a stuck train. Then a couple months ago I had a negative experience (I'll share later) in the city and I didn't want to post for a bit. But a couple weeks after that I had some friends come visit the city (Yay!!!) and it helped remind me of all the good things here.

***Side note***All you people thinking about visiting the Big Apple, I live here. Please come visit. You can stay with me. Or if you don't want to stay with me, we can meet up. I can give you suggestions or tips or whatever you want just please come visit***

Anyway, I had two thoughts in particular last night and this morning that impacted me enough to push me to write them down and share. And I felt like I wanted to be a bit more detailed than just a Facebook post would allow.

The first one came last night through the missionaries. I was having them over for dinner (most of my friends in NY are missionaries) and they shared a message about charity. I love this topic and they shared verses in Moroni 7, verses that I have perhaps read a couple hundred times. Starting in verse 42 it reads, "Wherefore, if a man have faith he must needs have hope; for without faith there cannot be any hope. And again, behold I say unto you that he cannot have faith and hope, save he shall be meek, and lowly of heart. If so, his faith and hope is vain, for none is acceptable before God, save the meek and lowly in heart; and if a man be meek and lowly in heart, and confesses by the power of the Holy Ghost that Jesus is the Christ, he must needs have charity; for if he have not charity he is nothing; wherefore he must needs have charity."
And the thought that came this time was that often when we are seeking an answer but can't find it, or going through a trial with no end in sight, we sometimes attribute this to a lack of faith. At times this may be the truth- we need to hold on a little longer, trust a little more, believing that the Lord has a plan and the correct timing. But what if, instead of lacking faith, what we are really lacking and therefore preventing ourselves from recognizing an answer or relief -is charity. Without charity we are nothing. Without pure love, we are not acceptable before God. Maybe the Lord wants us to serve a bit more, open our hearts, forgive a trespass so that we can understand his answer. We can do a self reflection using verse 45- "And charity suffereth long, and is kind, and envieth not, and is not puffed up, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil, and rejoiceth not in iniquity but rejoiceth in the truth, beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things." I know I have room for improvement in more than one of those, and just maybe acting on it will shift my heart to understand a bit more of Heavenly Father's love for me.

The second experience happened this morning while working at the Manhattan temple. Oh, how I love the temple. Recently, I was invited to become a trainer on my shift meaning that I have the opportunity and privilege to help train sisters as they start working at the temple and to help those already working to practice or refresh areas they want to work on. This morning I was assigned, along with my new trainee, to be a guide for a sister coming to receive her own endowment. As instructed we were down waiting in the front reception lobby a few minutes before she was expected to arrive at 6:30. When she did not arrive promptly at 6:30, I was not overly concerned. Travel in the city can be particularly difficult especially at that early hour. If they were coming from Queens or Long Island or New Jersey, perhaps they had delays in transit. As 7:00 came and still no sign of the sister, we began to ask the front desk and office if we should call or if they had already called. They said they would reach out, but that we should keep waiting in case they arrived. Meanwhile, the other sister and I continued to greet patrons entering the temple. In between we talked about the temple and spiritual thoughts. I was struck by the glass mosaic in the lobby- one I've seen numerous times, but perhaps not considered why it was here in the entrance to the Lord's house. It is a trifold pane of the Savior on the road to Damascus with two disciples after his resurrection. Upon reflection, it made me think that it was a great step tying our lives outside the temple to the temple itself. Just like the disciples, we do not always know when the Lord is walking with us. Though we may feel His Spirit, we do not always recognize it in our daily travels. However, upon entering the temple we realize that He has been with us all along and never leaves us, and we are now entering his house where we can always find Him. As the minutes continued to pass without any sign or word from this sister, my trainee and I said a prayer asking that they would be blessed and protected and that whatever was happening, it would work out. We talked about how hard the adversary works to keep people from taking important steps. The sister never came. Today at least. We waited the entire time we would have been with her, about 90 minutes. But I had the thought that just as we wanted to be there to receive this sister to the temple, even if she arrived late, how much more so does our Father in Heaven and our Savior wait for us? Though we may be tardy in repenting, or slow in getting our act together, the Lord does not walk away throwing his hands up in frustration that we are not coming. He waits for us. Granted, his waiting comes with a perfect perspective, knowing exactly what we need and when we need it to be able to progress and grow. Ours is a bit more limited, but we can still offer that grace to those around us. I have had the chance to be a guide on other occasions in the temple, times when they come early or a little late, sometimes flustered by obstacles in their path or apologetic for arriving late or without something they need. Other patrons come in from the city with the same urgency and frustration- not wanting to miss a session or having forgotten their recommend. We are reminded that we should wait upon the Lord ( a very active faithful choice), but we should also remember that the Lord waits for us.

Elder Jeffrey R Holland in April 2012 shared this powerful reminder: "However late you think you are, however many chances you think you have missed, however many mistakes you feel you have made or talents you think you don’t have, or however far from home and family and God you feel you have traveled, I testify that you have not traveled beyond the reach of divine love. It is not possible for you to sink lower than the infinite light of Christ’s Atonement shines.

Whether you are not yet of our faith or were with us once and have not remained, there is nothing in either case that you have done that cannot be undone. There is no problem which you cannot overcome. There is no dream that in the unfolding of time and eternity cannot yet be realized. Even if you feel you are the lost and last laborer of the eleventh hour, the Lord of the vineyard still stands beckoning. “Come boldly [to] the throne of grace,” and fall at the feet of the Holy One of Israel. Come and feast “without money and without price” at the table of the Lord."

Letter To My Younger Self

In light of my high reunion on the horizon, reflections caused me to write this letter to my 17 year old self upon graduation.

Dear Kristi,
Congrats on graduating high school! But to be honest, it wasn't really a challenge for you. At least not the way it is for some. The challenge is on the horizon, but you don't know that yet. You are so ready for the next step, itching to move on and forward to whatever the next stage holds. You have a whole life plan, broken down into sections and goals with steps. Just barely in the last year, you started to realize that you are so much more than just your accomplishments, but you aren't quite sure what that means so you cling ever more tightly to these goals. Almost as if you believe that if you can just reach them, then you will understand. It doesn't work that way. It's a process, love. No degree or accomplishment or accolade will make you the woman you want to become. Don't misunderstand, goals are important and plans to reach them are essential. Yet the kind of goals you are making now are, well... cookie cutter, static, banal, predictable, and lacking individuality. They are the goals you think everyone else wants you to make. It's not true. Sure, others will talk about those categories of goals in general- education, career, financial- but the sooner you learn that you can set a goal for both the process and the end result, the sooner you will discover joy in the journey.

Up until now in your life, Success has been your tutor. But now Failure will take over. And it will hit you hard. You will failure gloriously Kristi and it will take you years to see the beauty in it. If I could give you just one piece of advice, it would be to not take failure as a description of yourself. You can miss the mark, but that does not make you a failure as a person. You are still learning, growing, still in process to become the kind of person you want to be. Not what, who. 

At the same time you are holding to these rigid expectations of yourself, you are trying to prepare and plan for having your own family in the future. So you try to define yourself by your relationships- by trying to be the best daughters, sister, friend, and girlfriend. And you will break yourself apart by doing so. I would not change what happened even if I could because it has brought us here. But I wish you would love yourself a little more, a little deeper, more unconditionally. Embrace your quirks and accept your flaws. The sooner you can love yourself, the sooner you will find that love reflected all around you wherever you go.

Knock-em dead Kristi. 

All my love. 

Of course, writing to yourself can be a great therapeutic device but I'm pretty sure I'd already done it before this letter. The point in sharing I suppose would be to put out this advice to anyone in that position. Anyone moving from one stage to another, anyone who is holding so tight to their plans and expectations, for anyone else who tries to plan for this unpredictable thing called life. As Maya Angelou once said, "Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

Ready for A Reunion?

Recently I got the news and invite to my 10 year high school reunion. Lots of emotions came with that. Excitement, disbelief, nervousness, all followed by some good reflection. I lay in bed that night comparing where am I now with where I thought I'd be, wondering if I am excited to reunite with my high school classmates, and if I'm able to own the journey I've been on.

I was so ready to graduate high school- to move on to bigger and better, that next step everyone kept talking about, and to take my first leap into adulthood. I was going to school across the country from the majority of my classmates and Facebook was still a new thing (I didn't get an account until I arrived at college my first semester), so it was mostly a solo journey into the unknown. I had all these expectations, goals, and plans for myself and for what I wanted in my life. Now I can look back and lovingly recognize how rigid those were for me. As if success in a certain area made me a successful individual, either all or nothing. Some of this reflection prompted me to write a letter to myself at 17, which you can read soon, but I want to finish answering the question. Am I ready for the reunion?

After a sleepless night, I came to the conclusion that, yes I am. I started envisioning how the reunion was going to play out. You know, maybe a slide show of graduates and a list of their accomplishments, current careers, etc, and I wondered what I would put on that slide. My educational path was/is not a straightforward one, I've found myself found myself working in several fields developing a host of talents and abilities while deciding which ones I wanted to focus on cultivating, and I've moved from place to place over the last ten years. I have dealt with serious health challenges and fought my way out of hopelessness. One of the best things I have ever done, though I never planned to, was to put life on hold to serve an eighteen month mission for my church. Through that experience I made some incredible friends, fell in love with the Spanish language and Hispanic people, and altered the course of my life. I have learned surprising skills and created my own business, only to put that on the back burner to work on something else I'm passionate about in the hopes of combining them in the future. I am learning to take risks and trust myself. I have written a book, but I'm still in the process of publishing. In short, my life is in progress; I am not a final product yet, and THAT'S OK. I discovered that instead of this stock photo future that I had desired, the reality is closer to a mosaic- perhaps incoherent or abstract when looking at just one piece, but incredibly beautiful and breathtaking in it's entirety. I have learned life lessons that I did not even know needed to be experienced. I am still learning to enjoy the journey and the moment and each individual stage of life. I have been brutally broken and put myself back together a few times now. I did the work to get rid of baggage and connect with myself, to heal myself and share healing with others. I have lost people I love and gained new friendships. With each new day and experience I am learning to love a little more, a little stronger, a little deeper. And I am really proud of that.

I know as I go to my reunion that some of my friends are in graduate programs, medical residencies, PhD programs, established in a career for several years now, have multiple children (while I still prepare for mine), etc. Simply, our paths divulged in the woods and they were all the ones we each needed to take. And I will celebrate every single one of them. Though despite my lack of conventional measures of success, I will go with my head held high because I am in love with WHO I've become and where I am, not just what.

White Girl in Harlem

A few weeks ago, I saw a post on Facebook asking if people ever find themselves as the only person of their race/color in any given place. The person asking is of Indian descent and I am, of course, a bean burrito- white on the outside and Latina on the inside. But for real, I am so white, Western European that it's a bit ridiculous. I got caught up thinking about her question that I never actually responded to her, but my answer is an unequivocal yes! I live in Harlem here in Manhattan- upper Harlem across the river from Yankee Stadium. So essentially, Black Harlem. I don't say that with judgment, because they call another area the "Spanish Harlem- it is simply what it is. Any given time I can walk out of the apartment building, go in any direction, and not see another Caucasian individual the entire time. At my school, I am the only white teacher (there is a Caucasian administrator there sometimes). I go on the train and more often than not, am the only Anglo-Saxon in the car. New York demographics claim that New York City (all 5 boroughs) has a population of 8.55 million people- 44.6% white, 27.5% Hispanic, 25.1% African American, and 11.8% Asian. While statistics claim that Manhattan in particular is 50% white, 15% black, and about 12% Hispanic, it all depends on what area you live in- Chelsea, SoHo, TriBeCa, Harlem, Washington Heights, Upper West Side or Upper East Side. Washington Heights, just north of Harlem on the west side, is a known as a hub for those from the Dominican Republic. I already knew that since so many of my friends from church are Dominican. Harlem is a historically large African American community since the 1920s- here blacks represent about 50% of the population. Most well-known for it's history of African American art and as a center of jazz in the 1930's and 40s.  Sorry, not sorry, for my little history lesson on the side.

Well, so what? Why am I going on about this besides describing where I live now? Because it is giving me amazing experiences and perspective. Though I grew up in many states from the West to the Midwest, mostly in suburban or smaller communities, I was always in the majority. I had and have friends of many races, but they were a part of our community instead of the other way around. I find myself in a position to see things as the minority in a particular community. Similar to my church congregation ( we attend a Spanish ward), I am being the gift of seeing a group from the inside. Though my skin hasn't changed, I identify strongly with the Hispanic community now. Not just because of my mission to Houston or my marriage to my Mexican mancrush, but rather because I have shared so much with that community and fell in love with them. Now, I am being given the chance to look at my opinions through a different lens. The jury is still out on what that will bring for me, but I'm excited to explore that. There are things I don't like about the neighborhood of course, but there are so many unique things as well. I can't wait to share them with you.

Life in the Fast Lane... I mean, Backup Care

I live in a city where people never stop working. I mean, lots of people come to the city for that dream job, or at least a better job to lead them to their dreams. Fast paced, demanding careers seems to be the standard for The City, and the teaching field seems to be no different. I had no idea that backup care existed before moving here. Basically, my company has full service (regular preschools or daycare) centers as well as backup and hybrid, or centers that are both full service and backup. Backup centers partner with a company as a benefit offered to employees. For example, my center is associated with New York Life Insurance Company. So as a benefit, employees with children get a certain number of days per year to bring their children to the center when school is out, their nanny is sick, parent has a commitment, etc. Literally we are the back-up child care for these parents. Kind of nice, right? I know lots of parents that would be so grateful for this wherever they are. It is a wonderful resource for these parents especially as we do a program to help transition infants after parents return from maternity leave, giving them extra days as they get back to work and finalize more permanent child care solutions. Definitely something that gives me comfort when I think about having and raising children in the city.

As a teacher in this environment, there are also lots of benefits. This atmosphere is never dull or boring. It is rarely predictable and I am always being exposed to a new issue or situation. It is also incredible to be able to work with so many children and see the development process as it differs in each of those children in the same age groups. However, there are lots of stressful and demanding aspects. While some parents plan ahead and have their child scheduled for certain days, spring break, etc, the very nature of the center leads to lots of last minute reservations making it hard to stick to even the most simple of lesson plans. I am still learning all of the children who come to our center since they don't come on a regular basis so it makes forming those relationships and trust with the children more challenging. Not impossible, but definitely challenging. Along with that, even though they complete medical information beforehand, we have many students with disabilities or challenges arrive and we have to recognize the issue and be able to respond appropriately. It's also a blessing to be able to learn about various special needs and situations, but can be stressful when a particular child may be new to the center and we are not yet familiar with how to help provide an environment that helps them be as successful as we would hope. Sometimes my husband asks me if I wouldn't rather be a bank teller or another 8-5 kind of job where the job stays at work, blah, blah blah. And though somedays that is tempting, I love those little moments of connection, of making a difference, of nurturing, guiding, teaching.

Black Coats and Green Mats

I live in a city of black coats and green mats.

I thought it was a joke when someone told me that everyone in New York wears black coats in the winter. I mean, really? A city known for it's individuality and fashion and the people mostly wear black coats? Well, my friends, it's TRUE! I am not sure if it is because black is stylish or slimming, if it's all they sell in the stores here or if it's harder to see dirt or smog on a black coat, but the city is a swarm of black on cold days. I own a maroon coat and a bright red one. Most of the time I am the only one with a colorful jacket in the subway car. And I'm ok with that. I like feeling that I'm not a New Yorker. Is that strange? I think in general, I personally like to fit in, to feel like I belong. However, growing up and moving lots of places, and now as an adult as well, I've come to learn that where I reside has very little to do with who I am. For some, where they were born or grew up or live now is a huge part of their identity. Not for me. I can live somewhere and find everything good and learn from experiences there while at the same time contributing everything I have to offer. I know lots of people here in the city who are proud New Yorkers and that is awesome. I have come to know many people who simply are here for a job, for family, for awhile.  And I reserve judgement on those who come and want to fit in and belong here. Put on that black coat- you will feel right at home. But I love to see those occasional individuals with their other colored coats- the rebels, those who refuse to change who they are under the pressure of this city.

At the same time that I say there is this almost unspoken uniformity in outerwear, I am reminded of the green mats. At my school, we use place mats for the children when having snack or eating lunch. Blue signifies that the child has no food restrictions or preferences. Red alerts us to an allergy. And green indicates a preference- something that we honor strictly but is not a medical allergy. It can be any number of things from Kosher to only food prepared by parents, no processed food etc. I have learned so much about traditions of the Jewish Passover in regards to food and restrictions, as well as during Lent for those students who had changes in their regular eating. Maybe it's a silly example, but it reminds me that there are so many complexities that we cannot see in people. These children do not "appear" any different that those children without any preferences. And even though I can't say that I know all the people I see on the trains everyday, I am sure they all have intricacies that are invisible to the eye. Maybe all I can see is a black coat, but everyone has a green mat. Those black jackets are just the tip of a very complex iceberg. New York is teaching me to look beyond what I can see, those first impressions, the tendency to judge quickly, and to give everyone a bit more grace.

Tall Buildings and Tiny Spaces

I live in a city of tall buildings and tiny spaces. So much about New York City is larger than life, or maybe people seeing how large they can live or maybe it's just full of people wanting to be part of something larger than their own lives. You can walk around the city and sometimes only see up and down the street you are walking on because the buildings block your vision of what's just around the corner. One time I was meeting my husband at the Oculus downtown near the 9/11 Memorial and I knew I was close, but all the buildings around obstructed it until I almost ran into it. (It's not a small building by the way.) Perhaps because you can't see more than what is in front of you, it can be easy to feel disconnected from things that are near you. Manhattan is a small island surrounded by other islands- Brooklyn, Queens, Long Island, Bronx then mainland New York. Even though I know where I am geographically in relation to those places, they are so far from my view and daily life that they aren't really real to me. In juxtaposition to this, so many things are crammed together into smaller and smaller spaces. Rather than most storefronts being wide with several doors, so many are narrow and long. Small apartments are often split up even further as families rent out rooms, like where we were for the past three months. Moving into our own apartment last week was both exhausting and exhilarating since we finally have our own refuge in this overwhelming city. In our own little corners, sometimes it can still be challenging to block out the chaos around us. Ironic, isn't it? That the city shields us from seeing around the next corner, while at the same time we can't shut it out no matter how hard we try. On the other hand, when you ascend to the top of these buildings, you can see for miles. When you go up, you can see the connections- millions of intersections, people passing, etc. With some effort, you can step back or up to see how what appears on the surface to be isolated individuals are really thousands, if not millions, of connections. People come to New York City for lots of reasons and stay for others. They come with dreams burning inside, to learn, to achieve, to shine, to become who they want to be. Some come searching, some come fleeing. Everyone finds more than they thought they would. It's a place that demands the very best from you and gives you so many opportunities to give it. Amidst the tall buildings and tiny spaces, I live in a city of connections.

Settling In

Breaking radio silence. Yes, hello again. I know, I've been absent after dropping the big engagement news. But you must agree that getting married, traveling through 6 states, moving to New York, and all those adjustments have kept me pretty busy. It's been a whirlwind 3 months, but part of my New Years goals includes regularly blogging here. Partly because I find myself in a new phase of life- newlywed and starting my own home/family. Partly because I'm starting this next stage in an exciting new place- the Big Apple herself,  New York City. And lastly, because as I start these new adventures I find myself far from most of my friends and family and I want to stay connected.

Speaking of staying connected, as a young college student there was a joke amongst my friends about our friends that got married. We jokingly said that when they started dating it was like they got sick- we saw them less frequently. When they got engaged it was as if they had slipped into a coma- completely unresponsive to friends and prior activities. And upon marriage, they died and we mourned their loss in our lives. Depending on the person, about a year later they were resurrected and we rejoiced at the opportunity to enjoy that friendship again.  A little harsh I suppose, but on the other side it absolutely felt like that. I will apologize right now if I have made any of my friends feel like this. Right now is a time of lots of transitions and adjustments for me personally, but I so dearly cherish my connections and friendships.

As I mourned the loss of friends after their marriages, I suppose I assumed that part of their disconnection was that they were wrapped up in newlywed bliss and well,...in the bedroom. Well, that may be a consideration, now I can add a bit more depth. There is a definite adjustment within a relationship and what you can share with other people about your relationship. What is appropriate to share? It doesn't feel right to tell your best friends or you mom about something your husband did that bothers you or even made you mad. There is a distinct difference between telling the friends all about those crazy bad dates you endured and about sharing details of your marriage. A sacred trust and confidence comes with marriage, one that includes a lot of vulnerability and emotional intimacy between husband and wife. And as you seek to communicate, it should really only be between the couple and the Lord. I'm not saying that you shouldn't speak up if something is wrong or that you can never talk about your marriage with the appropriate people. I just want to share that insight for someone who maybe thought what I did after my friends got married. I'm still here, but I can't share all the details of this new part of my life because it's not just mine to share. It's ours.

Friends keep asking if I'm settled in yet. And I keep making a crazy face when they ask because I think to myself, "Settled in? What is that? What do you mean? Do you mean, that after three months of marriage, moving to New York City, finding a job, and searching for an apartment, is everything all normal and routine?" Because my answer is still- not quite (or not at all if I'm being really honest). I live in a city that refuses to settle. My husband always says that this is a city of opportunities, where if you don't like your job you can always find something better. And you see that a lot. People moving from job to job, apartment to apartment in search of what they want. Sure, I have met people who have lived in the same apartment for 25 years, or had the same job for a long time, but there is an attitude in this city of refusing to settle on your dreams. If you want something, you need to search for it and grab it with two hands. I admire that attitude about New Yorkers and the city. Whereas my small town girl heart does want to be a little more settled, I know that will come as I adjust. But I hope to learn from this city to never settle on those things that matter most.

Throughout this year, I will be doing a series of "I live in a city that..." posts to document my experience in the Big Apple. I hope to share some insights that are different from the stereotypes and bring me great joy within the city.

Two Stories For Two Months To Go

In two months I get to marry German!!!!!! And there was much rejoicing. So, in honor of this countdown milestone (and because I need a break from wedding planning, job applications for New York, and figuring out how to move my stuff,) I've decided to share a few cute moments of our journey together.

I've told the story of knowing that I was going to marry him after the first phone call. I sat there wondering if it was the Spirit or wishful thinking. There was nothing that suggested it would be in this timetable or anything so I just kept going, talking to him, getting to know each other. A week after we met I had planned to go to the Grand Canyon with some friends on the 4th of July and to watch the sunrise. Something that has been on my bucket list for several years. We left in the middle of the night to drive up and be there for sunrise. We were the first people to arrive at the vista and waited about 30 minutes before the sun started peeking out. It is hard to describe how profound that experience was for me. Not just the beauty of the canyon, or how the light illuminated and changed the canyon with every passing minute. It was the spiritual parallel that really touched my soul- waiting for the light, every single person eagerly waiting for and facing the sun, and the transforming effect that light had upon the people as well as the canyon. Okay, I digress a bit. So as I'm watching this and having lots of profound thoughts suddenly I think, "I wish German was here so I could share this with him." And following right behind that thought was "I want to go on adventures with him. Maybe forever." I can honestly say I've never quite had those sentiments about another relationship that quickly. I called him from the Grand Canyon and sent pictures and a postcard (which he never got, but that's another story). That really set the stage for my next story.

The second story I want to share happened just a week after that. I had a horrible day at work- the kind where you almost quit before lunch- and typically I like to be alone after those kind of days. But after a bit of time by myself, I realized I just wanted to talk to him. So as I was talking to him I drove to the Gilbert Temple and sat outside in my car while we talked, read scriptures together, and prayed. And in the course of that conversation, he said some things that echoed my patriarchal blessing and dreams that I've had. So, of course, I'm sitting there with tears streaming down my face but trying not to let him know I was crying ( don't worry, I told him later). And the Spirit whispered punched me and said "Do you get the hint yet?" And suddenly, everything I'd ever wanted and have prepared and waited for was right in front of me and it was not the butterfly and rainbow feeling. It was a clutch in my stomach and an ache in my chest. If I had been falling for him before, I hit the ground full force in that moment. It was scary and real and ready-or-not-here-we-go. I called my mom and best friend in a crying-laughing way to try to explain what just happened and how everything changed for me in that moment.

I hope you enjoyed hearing some of our journey and I can't wait to celebrate with all of you in just two months!!!

Unapologetically In Love

So I'm engaged!!! 

For readers of this blog, that might come as a surprise. Last time I wrote on here I was still healing from a devastating relationship and falling in love with myself and life again. As the new relationship developed, I was hesitant to share details too soon as I have done that before only to regret it later. I had just bled all over ( literally and figuratively) and I thought the last thing I need is to put my fragile heart back out there. But the Lord had another plan for me and, when I least expected it, put someone absolutely incredible in my life.

Let me be clear about something first though. In the difficulty of the past year or so and losing myself a bit, I vowed I was going to really love myself and really love life. I made goals that I have actively pursued since January like traveling, taking piano lessons, being involved in more service, getting healthy again, etc. It was a very active and deliberate course of faith to love who I am and everything around me including opportunities, places, and little moments. I truly believe that because I moved in that direction despite the pain and depression that haunted me, I have been blessed to find the relationship I have with my fiance, German.

It has been a whirlwind relationship as we met this summer and both were serious about a relationship from the beginning. We met on a dating app and I remember that after I talked to him on the phone for the first time, I sat in my car and thought, "Wow, I'm going to marry him." I just knew. I know you hear stories about that from other people, but it never is going to happen to you, right? But it did and I am so grateful. Five days after I met him I bought a ticket to visit him in New York, recognizing that a turning point in my life was coming. Rarely do I think we can see those coming, so I have done my best to prepare (long before this and as it was happening). For both of us it has been a profoundly romantic and spiritual journey as we have sought guidance and counsel through prayer, studying the scriptures, fasting, and attending the temple. And we are moving forward in faith, though from the outside the timing and circumstances of the relationship may not be conventional or even rational.

I expected the questions and concerns from family and friends- they love me and want this to be a good thing. I did not expect, however, the push back, negative responses, and criticisms. You may be wondering why I am even giving any thought to those who are less than supportive, especially when I do have a lot of love and support coming in. But I will say something because I've been on the other side. I have watched dozens of friends get married, then have babies, etc. And though I tried never to vocalize my jealousy or display bitterness, at times it was a struggle. Though I never missed a bridal shower or reception because of how I felt, there were a few times I left someone else's sealing or reception and cried, wondering if that would ever be me. So if you are reading this today and are fighting between being happy for me and miserable about your situation today, that is completely okay. If this is a trigger for you, I get that and I'm sorry. If it is battle for you to see all my wedding planning posts and cutesy pictures with German, I will support you if you hide my posts for the next few months. I have done it to friends before just to preserve my own sanity. However you need to deal with this change in my life (if it effects you at all), I will support you and try to understand how you feel. I will not allow you to shadow the joy and peace I feel, but I will give you space to deal with your shadows. You never have to tell me if this is you, but if you want I will talk to you about it. I will not apologize for how excited I am for this new stage and adventure in my life, but I will cry with you if your heart is breaking.

I look forward to writing more again, to keeping you all updated about wedding plans and plans to move to New York. Check out my wedding website here and give me your address to get a wedding invitation here.

The Other End of the Tunnel

Nearly six months have passed since I broke my heart (again) over a good man. In the weeks immediately following I was alright, looking for the positive and assuring myself that it wasn't the end. I didn't even realize I was falling until I hit the ground. And my goodness, it broke almost everything in me. The next four months would be some of the darkest moments in my 26 years of life. It was as if I was dropped into a deep tunnel and left to navigate the impenetrable darkness alone. Emotional and mental anguish soon became physical health issues like internal bleeding, anemia, insomnia, lack of appetite and memory loss. Debilitating depression alternately caused excruciating pain and dangerous numbness. Seeking help, I got put on hold when I called the Suicide Prevention Hotline. I took some days one hour at a time, picking just one thing to hold onto, to look forward to, or commit to.

Today I came out the other end of the tunnel.

For me, it was the peace and hope offered through General Conference that pulled me out of the abyss. For you, it will probably be something different. I'm writing today not simply to document my saga or keep my friends updated, but because this crucible has taught me some lessons so I pray that in being vulnerable I can reach and help others still down in their own tunnels. I'm going to stick with my tunnel metaphor as opposed to the normal obstacle course that is life to emphasize the heavy darkness that accompanied this particular journey.

I didn't panic right off- after all, I've been in dark places and tight spots before. I had a go-to list of what I needed to do: talk with my friends, let myself cry, pray, study the scriptures, go to the temple, volunteer, listen to conference talks, magnify my calling, keep a gratitude journal, do family history and indexing, seek medical and professional help as needed, etc. And I set to the task of pressing forward with faith. Maybe the tunnel was longer than any previous trial I'd endured or the smothering weight of the darkness heavier than I was prepared for, but after a few months the insidious doubts set in. Perhaps I wasn't being faithful enough, or maybe I had unresolved sin or pride that was preventing me from feeling the peace and hope that I know the gospel brings. My dear friends, whatever you are going through, don't stop acting in faith regardless of the feelings that may or may not come. I specifically remember pleading to the Lord while in the temple just to feel His love and no reassurance was forthcoming. I know, I know, with my whole soul that there is no darkness that the light of the Savior cannot penetrate, but I couldn't find it. Build your testimony and conversion on the confirmation the Spirit has whispered to your soul time and time again, but do not hang your faith on always feeling those feelings. Keep connecting to the the Lord through prayer, scripture study, and faithful Sabbath day worship, but don't do it for what you hope to get in return- instead hold onto your testimony that it is the commandment of the Lord. Trials do not always come due to lack of faith and they do not always depart with increased faithfulness.

During this ordeal, there were a few flashes of light as some friends attempted to illuminate my path. Instead of helping, these flashes were blinding and disorienting. Whatever wisdom or assurance they offered, while well-meaning and loving, it would send me on wild goose chases down dead ends. I would  throw myself into correcting something they suggested in the vain attempt to dig my way out while I had a flash of light. But when the flash was gone, the darkness would be worse than before and cripple my morale. Hopefully you will have friends who will love you through your darkest tunnels, but keep in mind that how they love you might not solve the problem or even ease the ache. Don't be mad at them if they don't quite understand. One of the worst aspects of any heartbreaking experience is that you will feel alone and misunderstood and the adversary will prey off that pain. Every force will combine to isolate you and cause you to withdraw from those who love you most. Some people need to talk through their tunnel, others need...not to talk. Communicate as well as you can to your friends and family that though the darkness may choke you, you love and need them.

To some degree I knew this next one, but I've gained a new depth and perspective on allowing myself to feel and experience every stage of the journey. This personal tunnel of mine was not like a train tunnel, rather a rabbit hole and a long twisted jungle. Some days were angry, some were sad, others hopeless and still others were numb. I was so hard on myself, frustrated that I couldn't just acknowledge all these feelings, give them to God, and move on. I tried, I really did. Sometimes the Lord does not lighten a load because He is teaching you what you can carry. The saying goes that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but sometimes it just kills off a portion- your hope, your perspective, your vision. The pain and darkness are going to change you, but sometimes you can consciously decide what to let go of. Pride, control, anger. My heart-wrenching experience became the vehicle for refining my soul and humbling me before the Lord and I cannot begin to express my joy and excitement when I realized that I had finally emerged. But if you are reading this in the midst of your own tunnel no matter if it's six months or six years, press forward in faith, be kind to yourself, and hold onto the lifeline that you are not alone.

Black Holes and Broken Hearts

I have this theory. Today when I went to the Science Center, I saw the incredible planetarium show which ended with the host showing us a funny music video about black holes. Just a random clip at the end of a beautiful astronomy lesson. But I came up with a theory which is that all the black holes are women's broken hearts. 

NASA says that "A black hole is a place in space where gravity pulls so much that even light can not get out. The gravity is so strong because matter has been squeezed into a tiny space. This can happen when a star is dying. Because no light can get out, people can't see black holes. They are invisible." Sound familiar?

At the center of every black hole, there is a time space singularity- the moment of impact, the breaking point when everything stopped as it all crumbled. The gravity of that singlarity and it's implications affects the very fabric of life. Not even your light can get out of the prison walls that once was your heart. Everything that mattered is squeezed into a tiny space, that space between no one notices and no one cares. This can happen when a woman is dying. Because her light can't get out, people can't see her. They are invisible. 

Celebrate A New Year

Leading up to New Year's, I thought a lot about how I needed to improve and redirect. Those thoughts, as per usual, included my lovely Relief Society sisters. This was the email I felt inspired to write and send to my girls on New Year's Eve. And even ten days into 2017, I know this message is still relevant so I'm sharing it again:

Dear sisters, ladies, women whom I count as dear friends, 

I have been thinking about all of you a lot this week. I hope you all had a very merry Christmas and were able to enjoy time with loved ones and took time to express gratitude and love for the Savior. I know He is the reason for the season! My thoughts have turned towards the new year, both ones of eager anticipation and disappointment. Disappointment because there were things I worked towards this past year that just didn't work out, goals I made that I fell short of, and expectations of myself that could have been better. And if you are anything like me, I'm sure you can reflect on where you could have improved this last year. That reflection is only useful if we will use it to propel us forward, to inspire us to change and to be a little better. Which is where the eager anticipation comes in. We have a whole new year- 365 fresh starts and new beginnings. As Anne Shirley once said, "Tomorrow is always fresh, with no mistakes in it." I hope you will take a minute today or in this next week to let go of some of the things you are carrying around that don't need to ring in the new year with you. Things like disgust or shame, feeling not good enough, bitterness or a grudge. Let go of anything that doesn't serve you, that isn't teaching you, and that doesn't draw you closer to the Lord. Be aware that feelings of guilt or sadness can sometimes be tools in our process of repentance or healing and are not necessarily your enemy unless you choose to ignore them.

With the space you make in your life with all the things you are going to let go ( I know, yes you can sing the song if it helps :), my dearest wish is that you will fill it with things of beauty and power. We often talk of making resolutions to celebrate a New Year- the word resolution meaning "the firm decision to do or not do something; the action of solving a problem". After a few days or weeks the jokes start about how we've already broken our resolutions, forgetting already that every day is a new chance to try again. Sisters, I encourage you instead to set goals and make plans to accomplish them. Set goals that you can measure, that you can break down into steps. If the goal is a rather large one, set several smaller ones to specifically identify how you will accomplish it. Write them down and post them where you see them often. Hold yourself accountable and find someone else who will do the same. A friend, a roommate, a family member, or your Relief Society president if needed. Believe in yourself. Believe that you can really do what you are striving for. I believe in each of you and the incredible wonderful women that you are. You are divine daughters of a infinite Father- nurture those seeds of your divine nature. Elder Richard G. Scott once said, "Our Heavenly Father did not put us on this earth to fail, but to succeed gloriously." As you are setting these goals I pray you will be fearless, that you will set goals that honor yourself, ones that push you just beyond your comfort zones, ones that serve others, ones that draw you closer to the gospel and to our Savior. Please pray about your goals- our loving Father in heaven is interested in your lives and not just the spiritual aspect. He cares about your job and your education, about your relationships and your health. And as you push forward, know that sometimes you will slip, sometimes you will fall down or back a little. Every day is a new day. And if you need help to get back up, well, that's why I'm here, why we are together as sisters in Relief Society. None of us can do it alone, but we can do it. Wishing you a wonderful New Year's Eve and all the fantastic, incredible things we can create in 2017!

All my love, 

Kristi Koerner

Not Okay

Last night I was sitting at the kitchen table eating stew with my roommate when suddenly I couldn't put the spoon in my mouth and take the bite I had so casually scooped up. The tears were flowing too thick and I was choking on all these words that I keep trying to say but never seem to fully express. I'm not okay. At various times you could call it broken, heartbroken, depressed, sad, angry, whatever. But for right now I'll just stick with the fact that I'm not okay. I have this feeling that I might not be okay for awhile. And I'm trying to be alright with that and not make apologies and not get mad at people who are trying to be helpful and supportive or throw blame where it doesn't belong, but I might do all of those right here because it's all mixed in.

It always comes down to relationships, doesn't it? Nothing else matters, or hurts, as much.

I didn't plan on this.

I never thought I would get the miracle of love three times, but I did and each and every time it has changed me. Irrevocably, inexplicably, and forever. That's how I knew it was the real deal- everything shifted, everything changed. I changed. As Gerry in P.S. I Love You said, "Watch out for that signal, when life as you know it ends."

We were friends. Solid good friends. And over the last two years I have been more vulnerable and open and raw with him than anyone else, maybe ever. Even I was surprised when I realized that my feelings for him had bypassed desire, skipped through affection, ran over caring, and were speeding out of control into love. So when I told him that my heart had transferred possession, I did so willingly and openly, as a gift. And he said no thank you. Ok, that's alright. But then I go back to repair any damage done internally and find that I had given away all my pieces to him somehow. Not all at once, but gradually through those 3am conversations and laughter and all the unspoken things transferred in glances and shared smiles. I found I didn't have a reserve for this kind of heartbreak. I thought after loving and being shattered, after loving again and becoming numb, that I was strong enough to love without being destroyed- that I could love as a gift without expectations. Maybe a part of me could and did, but now that part is swept away with the other ashes of my heart. My heart broke and I bled. Literally. For nine days I hemorrhaged blood until I thought I would die from loss of blood, until I wanted to because it seemed like a peaceful way to go. Believe what you will, but I know my body didn't know how else to handle the excruciating pain my heart and soul were/are experiencing.

Loving after love is both harder and easier. Easier because if you can love like that- like gravity depends on you, in a love that soothes the mind and awakens the soul, in a way that makes you both strong and brave- then I believe you are far more likely to be able to love like that again. Differently, but again. But it's also harder. No matter how much you learn and grow and heal from a heartbreak, it becomes part of you, part of the very fabric you now weave your dreams with and the lens through which you see the world. And to consciously choose to bare your soul, to expose all the brokenness you've survived and the times it killed a piece of you, is perhaps the bravest kind of love there is. But brave or not, it's still agony. I know I've been spilling little bits of this pain out in various ways over the last two months, but I have more. More thoughts, more pain, more tears. Somewhere too there is more hope and light and love waiting for their turn on center stage, waiting for me to call for the end of the act, but maybe I can't do that until I can fully verbalize the former ones.

He made me feel so worthless. So incredibly, humiliatingly worthless. Here I am- an independent 25 year old teacher and healer and business owner, who allowed myself to feel utterly worthless because of his feelings or lack thereof. But to give myself the benefit of the doubt, I had just bared my entire soul to this man, revealed all kinds of scars and triumphs, and he didn't even bother to hand back my heart- he threw it out the window while the car was going 70 mph. They say "follow your heart" but if your heart is in a million pieces which piece do you follow?

I want to be fair and tell you that he's a good man. Because he is. He is honest and decent and hard-working and funny and thoughtful. It's true. Just because someone breaks your heart doesn't make them a terrible person, perhaps short-sighted or blind or whatever it is that keeps them from seeing your incredibleness, but not terrible. As good of a man as he is, he broke me so damn much that the cracks in my heart are visible through my eyes.

It's not the kind of sadness where you cry all the time, but more of the sadness that overwhelms your entire body and leaves your heart aching and your stomach empty, making you feel weak and tired and yet you can't even sleep because the sadness is in your dreams too. It's almost a sadness you can't escape.

I have this nagging fear that I'm never going to be able to move on or forget him. The way his brown eyes light up or his silly smile that always made my heart beat ten times faster. And what hurts the most is that he was never mine to begin with. But I fell so hopelessly in love and even now, after everything, I wake up in the middle of the night and I think of him. And it makes me sick to my stomach and I can't breathe because I don't want to love him anymore. I don't want this struggle for air every time I hear his name or when he walks in the room. I'm working on having good moments but before I know it I'm curled up in my bed with tears pouring down my face and my mind screaming at me to forget him.

One day he'll be a story I'll tell my teenage daughter when she's sobbing over the shards of her broken heart. When she can't get out of bed and all she drinks are tears, I'll pull her into my lap and brush him out of her hair. And I'll tell her this story of a man who was my friend, my confidante, and who destroyed me almost beyond recognition. Who hurt me so badly my body detached from the pain and bled, if not from every pore, then at least from almost every orifice. I'll tell her that he broke me on every level and every way possible, that I had to rearrange my body, my mind, and my heart in a twisted jigsaw puzzle game. And how I put up the Great Wall of China up around my heart to keep out any possible future sharpshooters. Then I'll tell her how it got better. How it stopped bleeding and how the pain slowly faded. How I was able to smile again and crawl out of bed. I'll tell her that eventually I could laugh and hope and dream again. But I might wait just a while after before I tell her that even now I wake up from nightmares, and how I'm sometimes seized with a panic when I see someone who looks like him. Sometimes words can describe a journey, but not the painful daily details.

It doesn't just go away- this love that I have for you. Sure it's combined now with pain and the wishing for you to be happy, and I know one day it will shift and not be the blinding terror it is now, but it doesn't go away. It doesn't hurt that you choose her. She's beautiful and sexy, she's smart and kind, she's not broken like me. Her laugh is like your favorite song on the radio, her eyes the depth of the forest you want to get lost in, and her smile is bright like the sun. She's your favorite book and I'm just a footnote in it. She's really the obvious choice. I'm happy for you, honestly. I've seen the way you look at her like she's your reason for breathing and the way you smile at her when she's not paying attention like you're thanking God for allowing you to be near her. I'm glad you found love. No, it doesn't hurt that you choose her, but you want to know what does hurt? Having all this love inside me for you and wanting you to be so happy while I have to sit back and watch her not love you the way you deserve.  It hurts having all this love bottled up inside with seemingly no place to put it. It hurts knowing that I will cry and grieve over your struggles and heartaches for years to come, but that you will forget my name the moment you look in her direction.

Romantic atheism is the easy way out- to just stop believing in love and the power of relationships. But I just don't have that in my chemical makeup. Every cell in me screams to keep hoping, keep wishing, to keep loving as hard and deep and profound as ever. And I will. I promise myself that I will. Just not right now. I may be broken but I won't stay here. I am devastated but I will keep moving. I'm not okay but I pray and hope that one day, someday, I will be.

Reverse Love Story

September 24

Dearest,

Sometimes I feel like I’m living a love story in reverse. I mourn your absence, longing for one day with you, holding onto the snippets and feelings. With faith and hope in every heartbeat, I pray that our time together will begin soon and last until my last breath (before continuing onto the next phase). Because I don’t know what space and time without you could possibly be like after finally finding you. In romances, the “before” involves a certain naivety to the all-consuming love on the horizon, a sense of self separate from this great love. That simply doesn’t follow our saga. My mind and heart are not capable of erasing you from my being, not even under the pressure of age or illness. So if the typical ending or loss of love is but the prelude to ours, what can I expect to follow? Instead of a string of life, I can see how it wraps together forming an infinite circle. A merging so complete between two souls that there is no beginning, no meet cute, no hesitant tiptoe into love just as there is no ending, no true separation, no extinguishing the eternal flame that burns so brightly. And if time is removed from the equation, it both simplifies and complicates our love. Any separation is jarring, incongruent with our nature and our life together is the summation of every force for good- a lifetime in every shared moment. If we remove distance from the equation, no matter our physical location, our souls will reach out to reassure, connect, and love. A love without limitations.

Forever Yours,

Kristi

To be opened on our wedding day

Grief Sinks In

Love and her little sibling, Grief, leave deep impression on the soul. The deeper the former, the more profound the latter. In the first months, tear-streaked cheeks and haphazard hairstyles are the tell-tale signs, but as time goes on grief begins to sink in like a stone in a pond- the ripples on the surface eventually smooth while under the water the motion continues. Just as Love often gradually permeates our very souls, Grief follows those footprints. Soon those traitorous eyes that leaked at every opportunity are replaced by dry, but hauntingly empty eyes. Tangled hair neglected in grief is tamed and changed into a new style- one that doesn't remind you of Before. Blubbering and spilling it all out soon dries up until the words are cautiously meted out while swallowing the rest. As if we really told others that beyond a predetermined amount of time that we still ache and bleed and cry that it would somehow make it worse.The further the grief sinks in- into our stomach, our bones, and habits, the more the other siblings like Anger and Guilt pay visits. Angry at ourselves for moving on too quickly or slowly, guilty that we can move on at all. Desperately holding on to the grief as the last shred of evidence that we loved at all. Like water carving a canyon, the depth of the change is not evident until the water finally runs it's course. Sometimes it has swept you away until you can finally move on your own while other times it has rocked you into stillness. Either way, when it's gone the final product is fundamentally changed, shaped, carved, and molded into something new. And then the process repeats. Is it worth it? This loss and journey towards transformation? Do the joys of love outweigh the shattering of grief? When love and grief have reshaped our very being, we are forced to relearn the world through those empty eyes and freshly cobbled hearts.

Top Ten Things I Wish I'd Known When I Started Family History

So as many of you know, I have a slight family history/genealogy addiction. 

I am currently in the process of being released from my stake family history calling as I now have other responsibilities and opportunities to serve in Relief Society. However, several friends both within and outside my stake recently were blessed with a family history calling. Yay! Welcome to the wonderful world of family history! A few friends asked for help getting started and asked for a list like this. Though I'm sure I can go into more depth, more explanation type things, this is more mental concepts I wish I'd understood. So here goes, my top ten things I wish I'd known/done when I got started way back when. (This is written from a LDS family history perspective and opinions are solely my own)

1.) Start by throwing out preconceived ideas about how much work has been done/is available in your family tree. Don't limit yourself. 

2.) It's alright to start with what you have and add more details later ( if you only know where they were born, or the month, etc- it's okay)

3.) You do not have to prove everything with a document. Sources are important and good and wonderful, but if you have a first person ("my mother told me", "grandmother wrote this", etc) source that works too. 

4.) The difference between Familysearch & Ancestry- FamilySearch is a universal tree so everyone could be editing it- Ancestry has private trees that only you can edit. Using both creates good check and balance of data. Start with one and then transfer over to back up your work. 

5.) You can EDIT. If you make a mistake, it's not written in stone- all errors can be corrected. So just do your best. 

6.) A Record Hint icon (the blue one) is just as exciting as a Green Temple- lots of possibilities and opportunities to find new people who need their ordinances completed. 

7.) Find an organization or pattern that works for you (i.e. Cleaning up one line at a time, working one generation at a time across all lines,etc) as you start researching and keep notes on where you are working- it will eliminate redundancy.

8.) Stick to standardized formats- Capitalization, punctuation, place names and dates,full name (if you only know the married  last name start there,) etc. 

9.) After all your efforts to be as accurate and complete as possible, turn it over to the Lord. He knows His children perfectly and will make up the difference. 

10.) This is a SPIRITUAL WORK in which technology is a tool. Not the other way around. Listen to the Spirit first and foremost. 

Dating Disasters

Everyone likes giving relationship advice- single, married, somewhere in between- we all have something to say. But can we just stop that? I mean it. If I hear "you'll find him when you least expect it" or  "don't worry, it'll happen when the time is right", or "you're too picky" one more time I might do something drastic. I know you mean well, I really do. But when you say those things, it belittles what I'm still feeling- loneliness, frustration,  hurt, rejection, etc.

For a woman who has a lot of love to give and truly enjoys giving and loving others, I've spent a lot of time being single. And as that kind of woman I do seek out opportunities to meet people and form meaningful relationships. I attend singles activities, have tried online dating...multiple times, let friends set me up with their brothers, cousins, best friend's uncle's neighbor!!!, try new activities, and also focus on pursuing my individual interests and passions. Nada. Zip. Zilch. Grrrr.

Today was the latest in a long line of dating failures. I'll spare you the details except to say that the man pulled a 180 on me- from respectful and engaging on the first date to pushy and inappropriate today. I hate to quote this song, but "where have all the good men gone?". I seem to find two extremes- those uninterested or lacking enough confidence to make a real move or those only focused on a physical relationship. Really?? I hate to generalize. I hate to stereotype men, but with only a handful of exceptions, those who can prove me wrong have yet to appear in my almost 9 years in the serious single dating world. There is a funny youtube video called the "Wife Zone Chart" which hilariously describes the combination of traits that make a good wife. And then there is a clever rebuttal video from a woman's perspective here- make sure to watch to the very end. I can't say that I agree much with either, but at this point in the post maybe you are as frustrated as I and need to laugh.

I don't think I'm looking for a Mary Poppins among men- "practically perfect in every way", just a good man. A few key traits and almost everything else can be worked out. Faith- Believe in God first and foremost. Have a testimony and a continuing conversion to the gospel of Jesus Christ. Believe in yourself- in all your potential and capabilities. Believe in  and trust me. Committment- just being committed to working through issues, caring enough about the relationship to put in the time and effort and sacrifices necessary to create a solid relationship. Communication- just tell me what you think and feel, where your boundaries and sore spots are, and what you need from a relationship. Don't lie to me or lead me on. Respect- listen to me when I'm trying to communicate, show proper respect despite a disagreement or different opinion, respect my thoughts, feelings, space, and physical body in thought and in deed. I'm willing to work hard too, to be committed and respectful, full of faith and respect. Does that sound far-fetched? Am I being demanding and unreasonable? I refuse to throw up my hands and say "whatever, who cares anyway" because it does matter. I refuse to turn my frustration around and blame men for all my dating woes- I'm sure I have room for improvement. I refuse to give up hope, yet I don't know where to turn next. Anything worth having is worth working for, right? I might need power tools for this job.