Happy Easter

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None Were with Him - Elder Holland

God & Illness

I think that one of the purposes of illnesses in this world is to learn to pay attention to our bodies. We know we are made in the image of God and that our bodies are temples. These bodies house the Spirit which connects us to God and our Heavenly Father.

So think about it.

If we are having troubles with our physical bodies and we ignore it, how are we going to listen to the Spirit which is in the body. The body can experience physical pain and actually PHYSICALLY speak to you with the feelings. If we can ignore those signs, how will we know what our Spirit, which is just a still small voice, albeit powerful when listened to, is telling us. We don't (usually) feel physical pain when our Spirit is unhealthy.

I can't say that that is the only point to physical pain since I don't believe it to be true. BUT it makes sense that we need to learn to listen to what our physical bodies are saying to us so that we can listen to the more important spiritual body within us.

What is your body telling you?

An assignment for my class: part II

Humitrophis – I have no idea what the actual word for these things are. They are the little glass stone things that are put in jars and bowls as decoration and stuff. When my sister was a toddler she decided they were called humitrophises. It was great. She loved to play with them and my other siblings and I learned to love playing with them as well. We spent an embarrassing amount of time when we were kids playing with those little glass stone things. Whenever I see one I resist the urge to take it and play with it like I used to.

Baseball – Until recently, my brother and baseball were one in the same. I have gone to more baseball games than most 19-year old girls. My brother played middle infield and occasionally outfield. I idolized him growing up so I loved baseball. I love it still. Baseballs remind me of Christian. They always will.

White dresses and Blue blazers – Sounds like a wedding right? Well it is not. It was my high school graduation. I went to a private school so we didn’t do the whole cap and gown thing. The girls wore white dresses (knee-length or longer with sleeves!) and the boys wore khakis, a white collared shirt, and a blue blazer with the Waterford patch on the pocket. I did not cry during my graduation, but I got close. I had known my peers for years and years, some since I was 2 or 3. We were also the first class at Waterford where everyone who began the year ended it and graduated in years and years. Teachers couldn’t remember the last time a whole class graduated together. I will be in a store and see a white dress and think to myself “That would have been a good dress for graduation”.

My youngest sister has a very slow paced walk. Her heels touch first. Her head and shoulders are upright and straight. Her eyes are generally up, not looking at the ground as she steps. She has long legs so her steps are very long. Her arms slightly sway along her sides.

My sister is active, she moves a lot, even when seated. She grew up with almost all male friends, she plays on a boys baseball team so she has some mannerisms or characteristics that one would associate with boys like the way she sits and runs. She uses her face a lot to express herself.

My sister has a youthful voice. I noticed she emphasizes consonants a lot. More so than your average person.  When she is frustrated her voice elevates in volume and pitch.

When my sister walks into the kitchen, her first response is to look for food.

I see that my sister has some food on her face and it looks like she hasn’t brushed her hair in a while. Her nails are pink and blue. She has swirly earrings. She is young.

I have short steps since I have short legs. I have short arms so they swing a lot. My head projects forward when I walk.

When I stand it is apparent how short my arms are. As when I am walking, my head projects forward. Usually I cross one leg behind the other weight-bearing leg.

When I sit, I move a lot because of my back problems. I generally lean back in the chair unless there is a table and then I rest elbows/head on table. Sometimes I cross one leg under the other.

When I speak, I use equal long words and then rapid shorter words that rise in pitch during the points I want to emphasize.

I use the words/phrases:

Grow up

Junk

I don’t see a problem with that

Ain’t nobody got time for that

Poop. Everywhere, always

I really like the words:

Junk

Kylee

I sound a lot like my sisters. Well, they sound a lot like me since I came first.

I think others perceive me as short, compact, confident – because I keep my head up, I strut a little. I keep eye contact; I have bold/confident mannerisms like that. 

An assignment for my class: part I

Mac 'n Ramen – Growing up, my parents both worked so we had a nanny or my older siblings took care of us younger siblings. The go to meal was Kraft macaroni and cheese. One day, my older brother mixed Kraft Macaroni and Ramen. That then was the go to meal and I still eat it as a college student. The mixed fake cheese and fake chicken flavoring smell reminds me of my childhood. Yummy.

Grandparents - I can recognize my grandparents smell anywhere. It smells dusty, a little floral, like old people, and like Vaseline lotion. I have a scarf that my grandmother crocheted for me and every time I wear it I smell their house. It makes me happy.

Hospital – I hate the smell of the hospital. You rarely ever get good new there. It’s awful. It smells like medicine, illness, old people, white, false cleanliness (even though you can't possibly imagine the awful stuff everywhere, always). It reminds me of the day I was there when I was 15 years old and they told me I had 2 herniated discs in my back and Degenerative Disc Disease. They said I wouldn’t play sports again. I didn’t cry until I got home and was making Ramen noodles. I hate the smell of hospitals.

My trampoline – So many good memories (some including injuries) have happened on my trampoline. I remember my first back flip out there and the countless attempts at a perfect back flip 180. The times we would put the sprinkler by the tramp and dump dish soap so the surface became a huge, bubbly, slip and slide. That trampoline defines my childhood.

Harley Davidson – My dad has had Harleys since before I was born. So many of his shirts are from various Harley shops around the country. I can picture the way he lets his beard grow out when he’s taking a Harley trip to Yellowstone, Sturgis, or the Grand Canyon. I got my Harley license the year I graduated high school and now we can ride them together, with me not as a passenger. Harleys will ALWAYS remind me of my father.

Scratches on the Suburban tail light – This was my first car accident. Oh dear, it was terrible. It was the December after I got my license in August. I was going to go Christmas shopping with my cousin, Taylor. It was nighttime and I was reversing out of the garage to go pick her up. I couldn’t see the mailbox. I backed into it and it basically exploded. There were bricks up to 15 feet away. No one was home, my parents were in a movie and I couldn’t get a hold of them. I had a panic attack and cried and called my brother. He rushed home and laughed when he saw the mailbox. It was a shocking experience for me, but I smile when I think about it now.

Rusty and Rosie – These were the little rodent characters (I don’t know what animal they actually are) that were used by the elementary school that I went to to teach children various concepts. They had VHS movies we would watch and CDs to listen to. I can still sing many of the songs from Rusty and Rosie. I probably learned a lot from them and when my little sisters listen to the CD’s I can sing along.

The Beatles – When I hear any Beatles songs I think of my dad. End of story. The Beatles are the soundtrack to our car rides and Harley trips. Whether it be CD’s, iTunes, or Youtube videos I have heard every Beatles song ever. Beatles make me think of my dad.

Crowd cheering for me – When I was a senior in high school I was the varsity point guard until I broke my finger and had to get surgery. The night before I got surgery we had a home game and I was in a splint and bandaged up. I got my parents, the athletic trainer, and the coaches permission to play for a little bit since I was getting surgery the next day and they could just fix any more damage anyway. Well I played a little at the beginning of the game and then my coach took me out. In the fourth quarter, with just 2 or 3 minutes left, our entire fan section started cheering “WE WANT KYLEE! WE WANT KYLEE!”. My coach looked and me and said, "Get in there". I finished the last few minutes of my last ever game. That sound of the crowd still brings me to tears when I think about it. It was incredible.

Miserably Failed March

Title says it all. I did not do well with the blogging in March. It was a busy busy month. But to make up for it, let me blow your mind with this:

You're welcome!

Linds Creates

Click here to be wowed.


Innit she great?

Touchscreen

Lindsays blog

Why is it the older we get, the more cynical we become?

Seriously. Why?

You hear people say all the time something to the effect of "Now I'm old and cynical, but you are young and still believe! Stay that way! Stay young and hopeful!"

I hear it from my theater teacher about every other week. I went to the Mission Prep class on thursday and heard the same thing. The teacher told a story about how he was an older missionary with a new companion. They had just met this guy who didn't believe in God, but still let them in his home. They shared a message and then asked if they could come back. The guy said yeah, sure and as they left, this older companion was thinking we are never going to get another appointment with him, he was just being nice. I've seen this a million times before, nothing is going to come out of this. At the same time the younger companion was super jazzed saying we are going to baptize this guy! It's going to be awesome!

At this point, the teacher said to the young hopefuls in the class, if it weren't for the hope and faith of my young companion, this man wouldn't have received the truth. I got a call last year saying he was baptized. Stay faithful and hopeful in the work of the Lord. 

Perfect example. I am not pointing fingers and saying that he was totally wrong in getting older and becoming accustomed to the disappointments of life. Nearly everyone does it. I am guilty. But why???

Why do we remember the heartbreak, disappointment, discouragement that life brings? Why do we let those negative things shape us and our futures? Why don't we remember the tender mercies, the miracles, the happiness, the love, the good fortune? Why don't we become more optimistic and hopeful as time goes on, since we have seen so many good things come our way?

I think that is why it says so often in scriptures to be as little children. 

• Luke 18:17
• 17 Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein.
• Matthew 18:4
• 4 Whosoever therefore shall ^ahumble himself as this little ^bchild, the same is greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
• First Corinthians 13 even states this principle exactly:
• 11 When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
• 12 For now we see through a ^aglass, ^bdarkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
• 13 And now abideth ^afaith, ^bhope, ^ccharity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.

• Mosiah 3:19
• 19 For the ^anatural ^bman is an ^cenemy to God, and has been from the ^dfall of Adam, and will be, forever and ever, unless he ^eyieldsto the enticings of the ^fHoly Spirit, and ^gputteth off the ^hnaturalman and becometh a ⁱsaint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a ^jchild, ^ksubmissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father.

Fascinating. That is also probably why we are referred to as the CHILDREN OF GOD so often as well.  I want to change. I want to become as a child. Really become as a child. One who believes easily, hopes for all things, remembers the good over the bad. 

I want to be that person who sees the world through rose colored glasses and gets more optimistic, faithful, hopeful as time passes. 

That is what I want to try for. Do it with me.

I've Just Had An Apostrophe!!!

So, I've seen various versions of this statement: "If you don't want anyone to know, don't do it". I was just pondering over that while walking home from class yesterday. I thought of it in terms of words though since I am taking a Language and Racism Class. There was a situation of former presidents using racist language in private but taking huge steps to advance rights for black people. People's opinions were colored by the fact that Lyndon B Johnson used that language even though his actions were to benefit the oppressed.

I adapted the statement in my mind to be something like: If I don't want anyone to hear it, don't say it". That lead me to wonder what my life/language/ideas/attitudes/etc would be like if everything I said could be said in front of any audience without me having to worry. If I could repeat anything I said to anyone what would my conversations sound like?

I would never gossip. I would keep to myself what should be kept to myself. I would protect other's secrets or information much more devotedly. I would probably be more Christ-like.

So folks, that is my new goal. Maybe make it yours too?

It's bound to be a challenge, but everything worth it always is a challenge.

Boise, Idaho SWEEP

So my lacrosse team went to Boise this past weekend for a tournament. 10 hours of driving in a backseat as comfortable as these:

The ugly landscape, barely any radio reception and then finally in Boise. What a relief. And my wonderful family came. It was GREAT.

We went 4-0. WHAT??? It was great. I had a (mostly) good time and hopefully this is indicative of our season.

Here are some of the amazing podcasts I listened to on the drives:

How Autopsies Work

Does the 5 Second Rule Work?

How Barbie Works?

Why does music provoke emotion?

How Lying Works

Those are just a few...22+ hours of driving is a LONNNGGGGGGG time....

Enjoy!