Late nights, early mornings

I don't know how many Emerson Drive fans there are out there but one of their songs is often on repeat in my head...especially late at night...it goes something like "I should be sleeping, 'stead of keeping these late hours I've been keeping".

And still, I don't let myself fall asleep until the clock's at least turned to tomorrow. I'm positive I'll regret not sleeping more now, when we have kids. I'll look back at these nights of opportunity and curse my foolishness. If only you could stock up on sleep. My early teens would have set me at least for my first year of University.

This week, there was a lot going on. There were three hockey games in five days, a concert I briefly worked at and a night of laundry and my favourite show, Criminal Minds. Thankfully I didn't have a hockey game to play in this week or else it really would have been a crazy week.

In the midst of the craziness, I did find time to dream. In my sleep too, no less. Twice this week I dreamed of some of my favourite people in the world (yes, I mean you and a few other people...). The first dream I was back in Rexburg, ID, and came across the apartment of real-life former roommates Kristy (Symes now), Lisa (Smith now) and Wendy (Plummer now) as well as a dear friend, Annamieke. Sterling and I somehow got separated and as I was wandering the streets to find him, I stumbled across their apartment.

I just remember feeling so happy to see them. I knew a lot had changed but at the core, we were still dear friends. At some point there was also a yellow lab cameo in my dream, which made it that much cooler.

I essentially dreamed of the same 'cast' of characters (yellow lab included) the following night and again awoke with a sense of nostalgia and great love and appreciation for the amazing friends I've been blessed with in my life. I don't know what those back-to-back dreams mean, if anything. Probably that I miss my friends and should see them soon. I'll buy that.

For now..sweet dreams. Hopefully that familiar crew comes for a visit again tonight. Until we meet again.

Hi, my name is....

When I was in a high school a new rapper on the scene released the song “My Name Is.” The lyrics got dirtier by verse (thank goodness for radio edits) but man did it have a catchy hook. In more or less words, he told the world his name was Slim Shady.

Funny thing is, over a decade later and that guy is better known as Eminem. As far as I can remember, he’s always been better known as Eminem in the music industry.

The reason that I bring this up is that lately there’s been some debate in the U.S. about ‘Mormons’ (members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints) and whether or not they can call themselves Christians.

I just googled the definition of Christian and the first hit was:

A person who has received Christian baptism or is a believer in Jesus Christ and his teachings.

I was raised as a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints and can say I’m definitely a believer in Jesus Christ and His teachings. I am so far from perfect but I believe in Christ, I love my Savior and I know that He paid the ultimate price so that I might one day have the chance to return to my Heavenly Father. I’ve read the teachings of Christ in the Old Testament, New Testament and Book of Mormon since I was a little munchkin so yes, I believe I fit in the definition of being a Christian.

Really though, what does it matter? Protestant, Baptist, Catholic, Mormon—these terms that define a different type of Christian. We all believe in our Savior. Sure sometimes we have different approaches but at the heart of it, we all believe in Jesus Christ.

Every Sunday as I’ve taken the Sacrament this year, I’ve made it a habit to read out of the New Testament. Today I happened to be in Mark in Chapter 9 where it read:

38 ¶And John answered him, saying, Master, we saw one ^acasting out devils in thy name, and he followeth not us: and we forbad him, because he followeth not us.

39 But Jesus said, Forbid him not: for there is no man which shall do a ^amiracle in my ^bname, that can lightly speak evil of me.

40 For he that is not against us is ^aon our part.

41 For whosoever shall give you a cup of water to drink in my name, because ye belong to Christ, verily I say unto you, he shall not ^alose his ^breward.

John, a beloved apostle of Jesus Christ, shared a legitimate concern of his to the Savior. Somebody was claiming to be performing miracles in the name of Jesus Christ. This person was not one of Christ’s twelve apostles and didn’t follow them so John felt he shouldn’t be using the Savior’s name to perform miracles.

The Savior clarified then what I believe now. If they’re not against us, they’re with us.

Joseph Smith outlined our beliefs in 1842 in a letter to John Wentworth, a newspaper editor, and I believe that what he said then rings true today. In this case, it’s the 11^th Article of Faith that applies here:

We claim the privilege of worshiping Almighty God according to the dictates of our own conscience, and allow all men the same privilege, let them worship how, where, or what they may.

I have great respect for anyone who believes in something. I have greater respect for those who believe in something that helps them want to be better, kinder and more charitable every day—and they actually live it.

What I don’t respect is people trying to put others down for their beliefs. Whether in middle school or religion, it’s never right to blow out another’s candle so yours might grow brighter.

Last week, a religious figure in the U.S. called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints a cult. That’s not the first I’ve heard that term used in association with my religion and it probably won’t be the last. To be honest, it doesn’t offend me.

Thanks to another google search, I just found this top hit for the definition of cult:

1. A system of religious veneration and devotion directed toward a particular figure or object.
2. A relatively small group of people having religious beliefs or practices regarded by others as strange or sinister.

Um..yeah..I have extreme respect for God and Jesus Christ for that matter. Do they qualify as ‘figures’? For that second part of the definition…does more than 10 million qualify as a small group?

Call me a Mormon, a Latter-day Saint, a member of a cult. Who cares? I believe in Jesus Christ. I know who I am. I know God’s plan. I’ll follow Him in faith.

Marshall Mathers called himself Slim Shady, Eminem and even Jimmy ‘B-Rabbit’ Smith (well, he played him in a movie—loosely based on his own life). Either way he was still a skinny, white rapper from Detroit. What’s in a name?

I can only imagine...

Do you ever stop to wonder, is this my life? As a teen I wrote a song that starts with that line. As I’ve grown older, I’ve thought more and more about it. Sometimes I do—stop to wonder. Somehow I think I’m not the only one.

Recently a friend of mine has gone through a divorce. I remember one day that friend told me they never imagined their life turning out like this. I’d like to think nobody approaches any marriage thinking it will end in divorce. I think there are probably many things we don’t ever imagine experiencing.

I’ve been mulling over this idea for months now. I never imagined my life being like this. In a million years I couldn’t have imagined myself being so blessed. I have an amazing husband who loves me so completely and is a better man than I ever thought I could find or deserve. I have a full-time job in an industry that has captivated me for most of my life and it has allowed Sterling and I to live comfortably despite him not being able to work while we wait for his paperwork to be finalized. I have some tremendous friends I know I could count on for anything whether it’s help battling a crisis or tackling an adventure. I speak to and/or see my parents regularly and as the years have passed, I’ve finally recognized how much of a blessing that is. My body isn’t perfect but it allows me to go for runs with my husband and play sports regularly. I know that’s a huge blessing just to have an able body. I battled with my body much of my life but think I’m finally coming to terms with the extra weight it likes to carry. It lets me run, skate, eat, breathe and wrap my arms around my loved ones. For that, I am grateful.

I really do feel so blessed. I’m afraid of coming across as a braggart but would be remiss to not openly express my gratitude for the blessings I know my loving Heavenly Father has given me. I don’t for a second take any of it for granted. I know life can get hard. Really hard. I’ve been blessed to see that up close and personally and am even more blessed to have made it through and learned from those hard experiences.

I’ve also been in close proximity of dear friends and loved ones going through really hard experiences. Sometimes I think it’s harder to watch a loved one get blindsided by a hard time than to go through it firsthand.

And that’s life. Whether it’s vicarious or firsthand, we’re here to gain experience and in turn, experience joy. Sometimes the road to the latter can just feel too long and full of obstacles though.

This is my life. I have an idea of where I want it to go but know that there are other factors that can steer it in different directions. I’ll keep making goals and choices to try to lead to the life I’d like to have but know full and well that when we least expect it, life can turn out so different than we ever imagined. And sometimes that’s the greatest blessing of all.

You were always on my mind....

Lately I’ve been trying to wrap my head around mental illness. Ironic, I know. Something that exists in that small, wonderful but at times troubled space for so many, I thankfully cannot comprehend.

Life’s been a challenge at times. Certainly there have been ups and downs. I cannot think of a time that a darkness has consumed me though. Self hatred and doubt have come to call in my life but never hung around.

For that I feel blessed.

I have family members who have battled mental illness and I admit at times I’ve approached it with ignorance rather than acceptance. Maybe it’s a protective mechanism. If I don’t acknowledge or embrace that part of them, it won’t be there. But it is. And it will be there. Whether we talk about it or talk around it.

I remember in my final semester of university taking Adult Psychology. One of the subjects we spent some time on was depression and mental illness in adults. My professor was of the school of thought that depression was highly over diagnosed. He prescribed to the idea that from his experience as a counselor, his patients seeking help to overcome depression needed to find balance in their diet, exercise routine, sleep patterns and charitable efforts. He felt that the presence of those four variables in balance would help alleviate depression.

Seems simple. I don’t think it is. If it was that cut and dry, I don’t believe I’d be writing this, mulling over the monsters of mental illness. Were it that simple, I don’t think people with seemingly so much promise would fall so far they felt their only out was escaping mortality.

In the last month I’ve spent a significant amount of time reading about mental illness. Hearing the accounts of those who have battled it. I still don’t understand it but think I’m getting closer.

I think that’s a start. I found from some readings on my church’s web site that the biggest thing loved ones of those battling depression and mental illness can do is love, support and don’t judge. I cringe as I recall times I’ve thought “Why can’t they just snap out of it?” Because there is no magic switch. Not yet at least.

The best line I’ve found is in an article I read on lds.org. It sums up the ‘snap out of it’ approach. We wouldn’t say that to a cancer patient. Likewise we shouldn’t apply it to those suffering mental illnesses. Like with cancer, there are treatments and approaches to overcoming depression and mental illness but there’s no cure. Yet.

From what I’ve read, depression brings a feeling of hopelessness. There is a never-ending search for self-blame. Those who suffer may seem to have a world of opportunity before them but they’re stuck trying to look behind and find a reason for the hurt that surrounds them.

That darkness. I can’t imagine it. Seeking for a truth that doesn’t exist must be exhausting. Damaging sometimes beyond repair. Is it because we’re of a society of justice—an eye for and eye? A felon deserves jail time because they broke the law. A person suffering through mental illness tries to justify their agony for some past wrong. But there isn’t one. Nobody deserves that cloud of despair as a constant companion.

Shamefully I’ve tried to find reasons too. They’re feeling that way because they did this or that. This train of thought needs to end. The more we, as a whole, seek to understand and empathize the better off everyone will be. Why waste energy seeking someone or something to place the blame? Spend energy learning to be patient, loving and supportive.

It’s easy to say but I know I fall into the trappings of just wanting happiness to be the presiding authority in the lives of all those I love. It can be, I believe. With time, I believe those far more gifted than I will find the right medications to help repair chemical imbalances and other factors that help result in mental illness. Support systems will be more supportive and less cynical. Maybe one day we’ll get to the point where we can look back at mental illness because we once took the time to look it in the face.

Until that day, I hope to employ a thought that is as powerful to me today as it was when I first heard it as a teenager: look for the good in others rather than seeking out the bad. We don’t know the inner workings of our neighbors. Don’t be quick to judge but be fast to love.

The same man who taught me that also said: “Do not be discouraged because you cannot learn all at once; learn one thing at a time, learn it well, and treasure it up, then learn another truth and treasure that up.”

I don’t understand depression or most mental illnesses. I want to though. I want the pain and suffering of so many to end. So I’ll learn one thing at a time and hope others will join the crusade so that one day we can look back at those monsters, and ahead to full lives of realized opportunities.

Wake me up...when September ends.

Ever since Green Day came out with that single, it's been a mainstay in my transitioning from my favourite season--summer--to my least favourite season--fall. Maybe it's because my entire life September has meant heightened workloads and in turn, stress. From 1989-2002 it was school. Then when I started university in 2003 it was more school. Naturally, I started working towards being a teacher--couldn't stay away from the fall blahs. Then I ended up at a job that CRUSHES you in September. Glutton for punishment I guess.

I think the hardest part about fall in the Northwest is getting used to more darkness and rain. Not a fan of either...

This fall I've tried to make the best of it. Taylor Swift coming to Vancouver didn't hurt. Me and my good friend Michelle got tickets and had the best time! We had really good seats and Taylor put on a great show.




That whole week was pretty great. Sterling had been out of town at his younger brother's wedding the previous weekend--Labour Day weekend. While he was in South Carolina, I stayed home to soak up as much sun as possible while I did some work from home. I wish I'd been able to make it to South Carolina but was so glad Sterling got to see his brothers and parents. And meet his new sister Amy!





Speaking of sisters named Amy...the Monday after Sterling got back, my sister Amy and her family came over to Vancouver. Cousins from California also happened to be in town so we all got together for a barbecue at Auntie Jan and Uncle Al's. Such a great night! The big kids (me, Sterling and our cousin Andrea) got in some trampoline action with the little ones (Josh, Avalayne, Jade and Elizabeth).



We had good food and great company. I'm always reminded of how much I love my family when I spend time with them. I remember as a kid discussing adulthood with my cousin Leanne. We didn't understand how our parents didn't spend any time with their cousins. Much of our childhood summers were spent together. We would often talk about how we wouldn't let that change. So far we've done pretty well at staying in touch. Sterling and I love hanging out with Leanne and her family. It's always a treat when her husband Mike gets time off work to come up to Canada for games and good times. One of our favourite games, Rook, is great at bringing family together (although sometimes it pulls us apart).

We love hanging out with all of our cousins. Later in that week we had an awesome time playing games with our cousins Jeff and Heleena while they visited from California. It's such a treat any time Heleena's around. She's awesome and always down for a good games night and has perfected Grammie's recipe for Lazy Daisy cake.

I can't imagine life without my family. We're all different yet share some key commonalities. One of the common threads I find is a love for competition. I think we come by it naturally. I remember as a kid loving the back closet at Grammie's house. It was packed to the brim with boardgames. During the day us cousins would play those games--Sorry, Clue, Ratrace, Monopoly and more. At night, the adults would pull out Rook. I never understood the game or the appeal as a kid. My how things have changed.

I hope we can continue that tradition of wholesome fun with our own kids. Time will tell.

Summer Lovin'

September is here. It's hard to believe that 'summer' flew by so fast. Summer--I hardly knew you! Weather has been a major topic of discussion since June here in the Northwest...mostly because sunshine and somewhat hot temperatures uncharacteristically never really made an appearance.

Thankfully there were moments of summer though..like on my little sister's wedding day. Her wedding was outside and Sterling and I were in the wedding party. So grateful it was sunny but not too hot.

That same weekend we got to spend some time with some dear friends. We had dinner with our friends Annamieke and Aaron. They actually rode some sweet cruisers down to the restaurant and kindly let us take a ride around the streets of downtown Duncan, BC. We love hanging out with Mieke and Aaron and wish the visits weren't so few and far between.




Aaron and Sterling actually raced us home afterwards. They took the bikes. We took the car. We only beat them by about a minute. Those were some wheels! After the bike ride, another friend, Kristy, met up with us even though she'd had a crazy long week. We all walked/rode (only two bikes) to Wal Mart for snacks. It almost felt like we were back in middle school all over again. It sure was great to see them and play cards and chat into the wee hours of the morning. What wasn't so cool was getting to my mom's and being locked out after. Nobody answered our knocks so we just drove right to the ferry to head back to Vancouver..at 3 a.m.

The following weekend we planned to return to Vancouver Island for more adventures. Unfortunately we weren't the only ones with that plan. There were crazy sailing waits. So we decided to go on our own adventure on the mainland...

We paddled from Pitt Meadows to Widgeon Creek Campsite. We saw a ton of herons along the way. It was a really pretty paddle. We ended up meeting a really nice newlywed couple once we got to the campsite--Sean and Chantel. They were the only ones there when we arrived and we found out they didn't have any firewood. We'd brought a bundle so when it came time to make a fire we asked if they wanted to join us. We ended up chatting until 2 a.m. Who knows if we'll ever see them again but we sure had a great night shooting the breeze.




After a late night we woke up to hike to a nearby waterfall. The bugs were incredible! We ended up running most of the way there and back just to avoid the pestering black flies. Once we got there, Sterling bravely made his way to the top of the falls. It was a great trip!




That was sort of our last hoorah for the summer before life got back to 'normal'. In all our adventures we hadn't been able to spend too much time with our good friends, the Johnsons. We quickly rectified that on the Monday. The four of us got together and went out for some Chinese food. The real adventure started after when Michelle and I made a blueberry pie. Michelle made the best crust I've ever had (sorry Grammie)! Afterwards she admitted it was her first pie. Thanks to cooking shows I guess!


As we waited for the pie to bake, we all played a game of Rook--girls against boys. The very first hand, the boys pulled off an amazing 300 hand. That means they didn't lose a single trick the entire hand. Michelle and I were a little suspicious because the boys had dealt while we were finishing up in the kitchen. Brandon had the best hand I'd ever seen (sorry Leanne). Apparently they didn't rig it though.

Michelle and I pulled off a huge comeback though and ended up winning the game. In the very last hand, Sterling thought he had us. He played a card he thought would win but Michelle actually had a better card. After the game was over and we'd won, Sterling recounted how he'd been feeling when he played that card. He even had a victory dance ready for the moment--he showed it to us after.



The next night, Sterling and I went to the Josh Groban concert at Rogers Arena. I was able to get four tickets and invited our cousin Michelle to come. We had a great time. Sterling had to come late because he had a church meeting but we both got to see one of our favourite songs "You Raise Me Up". Josh Groban was really funny--self described as neurotic. He spoke so fast and was quite witty. Sterling especially loved that when asked what he would choose as his life's theme song he said the song from Star Wars. It was the perfect end to a great summer!

The Miracle of the Dolphins

Today Sterling and I got up at the crack of dawn partially with a purpose and partially because of Sterling’s active dreaming. For the first time in our married life, Sterling’s night visions led to him physically hitting me. First he kicked me just after 2 a.m. then just before 6 a.m. he punched me in the arm and slapped me in the mouth simultaneously. Turns out that’s what happens when he dreams he’s playing basketball. Or maybe he was just so excited about the upcoming day’s events. We’d booked a snorkeling trip for one of our last days in Hawaii and that day had finally arrived.

We were staying in Kihei and had to travel to a nearby town to where the boat would launch. By 8:30 a.m. we were enjoying continental breakfast on the high seas. Within a half hour we moored at Molokini., the top of a partially submerged volcanic crater. That’s when the fun really began. The reefs offered a plethora of sea creatures.

The friendliest, the black triggerfish, swam right up to our masks. Thankfully an infant shark didn’t show the same fortitude. When I spotted it I naturally called Sterling’s attention to it then followed it until it disappeared from view. Seemed like the smart thing to do after watching hours of “Shark Week” on Discovery Channel. If I learned anything in my invested time it was that sharks don’t actually want to hurt humans. Although Soul Surfer led me to believe otherwise.

At any rate, we survived the close encounter with the shark and took in the colorful medley of coral, urchins, eels and more fish than Pike Place. After an hour sailed by, we were summoned back to the boat. On to the next adventure. Unfortunately for Sterling, the trip was less than enjoyable. Early in our snorkeling expedition he’d somehow inhaled a ton of sea water (his least favourite flavour at the best of times). Apparently that experience lingered as his face washed white within minutes of us getting back on the boat.

If anybody knows me, they know I HATE puking. Hate it. If someone around me says they feel sick, I automatically become Mrs. Fix-It. I’ve done a lot of research on how to alleviate nausea because for years, I refused to throw up. It became something of a skill albeit ridiculous (just ask my Mom or Grammie).

Anyways, we gave up our seats down below and spent the duration of the hour and a half trip on the upper deck. I spent the majority of our trip scanning the seas for any sign of dolphins we’d been assured would be there. Anything to distract me from my sick husband. Thankfully, Sterling never lost his lunch, in fact he kept new food down. Needless to say though, by the time we got to Lanai (Lan-ay-ee) we were both eager to get out of the boat and into the water.

Immediately Sterling and I broke away from the group (there were about 125 fellow snorkelers onboard). We were rewarded for our initiative. We came across a massive school of yellow angelfish and coasted along with them until a rainbow fish caught our fancy. This continued for the next hour then it was time to head out again. Thankfully this time though Sterling hadn’t recently inhaled a lungful of sea water.

We headed out and this time I was eager to get us up on the top deck again. First of all, a woman right next to our seats had a clear plastic bag on her lap for her bout with sea sickness, and secondly, we hadn’t seen any dolphins yet.

Settled in for the hour and a half leg of our return trip, I strained for any sign of a dorsal fin or splashing in the distance. Every white cap got my heart racing. After 45 minutes of searching in vain, I threw out a hail mary. I said a quick prayer. “Father, please help us see some dolphins”.

Even as I said amen, I thought this was a wasted prayer. First of all, there are much more important and prayer worthy things in the world. Drought in Africa, nations recovering from natural disaster and rioting. And here I am, uttering a prayer about my desire to see dolphins.

I quickly discarded my regret for uttering the prayer and tried to use the time to have some quality conversation with Sterling. He clearly wasn’t having it (I later found out he was still feeing quite sick) so I found myself a little downtrodden and naturally my eyes reverted to the water just below me.

As I stared at the waves splashing below me I started thinking about prayers and answers to prayers. I argued to myself that Heavenly Father can only answer prayers when we have faith and are obedient. I’d been struggling with both lately in my opinion. I had let so many important things slip lately. My temple attendance was abysmal if it existed at all. When I did go, I did so with a poor attitude and with little preparation. Though I read scriptures daily, my scripture study had suffered greatly over the course of a year and a half. My prayers were casual and infrequent. Worst, I felt so inferior and inadequate in my current church calling. I felt I wasn’t doing enough and was letting so many people down. My visiting teaching had become a chore and my competitive spirit had turned to a vindictive enmity in every game I played.

With these thoughts of guilt and inferiority running through my head I assured myself that Heavenly Father could not answer my simple prayer because blessings come to those who are obedient. Not slackers with decent intentions.

Just as my guilt turned to embarrassment for even wasting Father’s time the darndest thing happened. Suddenly a gray shadow appeared in my line of sight. Then another one. In an instant I recognized it was two dolphins swimming at the bow of the boat. I started nudging Sterling, saying “Dolphins! Dolphins!” Then reached for my camera just as the pair disappeared from view. I turned behind me and told others there were dolphins and could feel a rush of people flocking to where I stood. Then I returned my gaze to where the pair had appeared and saw….nothing.

Earlier in the day I’d read that spinner dolphins would often swim in the wake of a boat because it was easier than fighting the currents. I looked at the stern of the boat and again, nothing.

Within minutes the naturalist on board came to me and asked what I’d seen. He asked if I’d seen the body and the head. Thinking he wanted me to identify the dolphins, I admitted that I couldn’t tell what kind of dorsal fin they had and whether they had blunt or narrow snouts. He asked again if I saw the body and the head and I said yeah, but the woman at the front of the boat probably saw more because she was closer. He said he thought it was just a shark that we’d seen because usually dolphins will float to the stern of the boat and trail in the wake.

I told him it wasn’t a shark but a dolphin and he just dismissed it and walked away.

Then it hit me.

Heavenly Father had so kindly, mercilessly and graciously answered my prayer. Even though I didn’t deserve it. What were the odds that we would leave our seats and stand in that precise spot and stop scanning the seas and look immediately below us at that time?

In a split second, the dolphins appeared then were gone. Had we not been looking at that spot at that very time, I wouldn’t be writing this. Tears came to my eyes as I expressed gratitude to my loving Heavenly Father. Even though I’d put Him and His work on the farthest back burner, He hadn’t forgotten nor forsaken me.

Then I started thinking about Joseph Smith, the first prophet of this last dispensation in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.

Three of us out of 149 on the boat had seen the dolphins. Sterling and the other woman admitted they’d only seen gray animals and weren’t sure what they’d seen. Sterling was without his glasses though and the woman spoke only Spanish so I wasn’t sure they were the best witnesses.

I knew I’d seen two dolphins though. I knew it and could not deny it or be persuaded to think otherwise. This naturalist could doubt all he wanted because the dolphins didn’t follow their typical style of play with the boat. I knew that I had seen those dolphins because Heavenly Father had answered a simple prayer.

I thought of Joseph Smith in that moment. There he was, a young boy. He had seen God the Father and His son, Jesus Christ. He knew it, he knew God knew it, and he could not deny it. Yet many of those he told ridiculed him and doubted him. As I looked out at a spanning sea under an azure sky I felt so much love and appreciation for Joseph Smith and for our Creator who was at the helm of it all. He is the one driving everything. I may have lost sight of that somewhere along the way but the miracle of the dolphins, a simple moment, renewed my faith and desire to be a little better, do a little more and serve a little stronger. And for that, I am thankful.