7 Dayz of Blessin's

Hey all!
 

We shall heretofore call this week "7 Dayz of Blessin's". Seriously though, Heavenly Father was really good to us this week. There is a saying in our mission that obedience in the morning and diligence in the afternoon leads to miracles in the evening. I want to modify that to be obedience in your first transfer and diligence in your second and third lead to huge miracles in your fourth. After months of work and prayer, we saw some beautiful miracles this week.

The biggest blessing of the week was the new family we are teaching in Twin Knolls that I mentioned came to church last week with a member from Apache Junction.  The husband, wife, their three kids, and the husband's dad and brother all live in the same house, and they all sat in on the first lesson! The three kids and parents were the only ones at church yesterday, but we think the whole family will be on board eventually.  The whole time we taught them the Spirit was so strong! They said multiple times that what we were teaching were things they have always believed but they never had been able to find a church that taught those principles before. They have been so prepared by The Lord for us that it is amazing. I cried as we left their house because I was so happy that we have been blessed to be placed in their path. They are so humble and kind. They have Duck Dynasty beards too, so that is great. #7dayzofblessins

 

Remember the elder who is basically Uncle Si? Well he was just made my district leader at the new transfer this week, so this is going to be potentially the most entertaining six weeks of my life. We had some boundaries within our mission realigned so we are a part of a brand new zone called Sky River. I hate the name; it sounds like the name of a bad Japanese Anime show.

 

A family in our ward was supposed to feed us on Thursday night and they couldn't so they gave us a gift card to Smashburger. We were super pumped. Our excitement was increased when we found out that there was enough money on the gift card for shakes in addition to our meal! As we completed our order and handed over our gift card we were informed that someone in the restaurant had already paid for our meal! So we still have our gift card to use when we have an exceptionally frustrating or disappointing day. It was like a, call in the next ten minutes and get two Smashburger meals for the price of none kind of deal! #7dayzofblessins I do feel guilty a lot of the time about how spoiled we are here in Mesa.

 

Smashburger gift card!

Enough for shakes!

Someone picked up our tab!

 

We helped with an indexing relief society activity in Twin Knolls. We had a lot of fun; one lady even said that she wishes we had a later curfew so we could go with them to get pazookies on their girl's nights. These middle aged women just love us for some reason! I think we help them feel young.

 

We got new roommates; the days of a spotless apartment are over. A tripanionship moved in so there are FIVE of us in one apartment. We requested bunk beds so we could move our couch into our bedroom along with our desks so we can just bunker down in our room. It has worked out quite nicely! It's like a secret club house. I want to hang beads in our doorway.

 

 

We decided that we wanted to spice up Harry's lessons this week, so for one of them we did my cookie dough creation lesson (I'm going to have to trademark this lesson or something because word is getting out in the mission and people want to learn how to do it). Oh he just ate that lesson up! His fiancé even called us the next morning to tell us that he was still talking about it and that they sure do love us as their missionaries. The fiancé is finally starting to come out of a dark patch in her life and we feel like she is ready to take some steps in a more positive direction. We are really excited for her!  They also requested longer lessons because they feel gypped when they only get 50 minutes. We scheduled them a special super lesson on Saturday that lasted 75 minutes and they enjoyed that. I just really love them; they're such sweet people. They also gave me an American flag apron because I saw it in their kitchen and complimented it. They never use it and said I probably love America more than them so they insisted that I take it. I bet Barrack Obama himself doesn't even have an American flag apron! #7dayzofblessins

 

Whenever people ask me what kind of career I want to start after my mission I always say that I am interested in teaching, city administration, or writing but I'm not sure where the wind will take me yet. Sometimes I mention my desire to take over the world. My companion has started to end all career discussions that involve my political ambitions with #poppeforpresident. This really is going to be a grassroots campaign. She is starting about 25 years too early, but it's good to get the ball rolling I guess.

 

A family in the Thunder Mountain Ward asked us if we would teach the two children they have left at home the missionary discussions because they know we need people to teach and their son is Bryce's age and is gearing up to leave in a year for his mission. They're good kids and they're normal and fun to teach.

A member asked us to stop by the assisted living home her mom lives in occasionally just to visit her so she has some visitors other than family. We stopped by this week and chatted with her. She was kind of quiet until I told her about Sister Dumas tripping when she got off the top bunk of our bed the other night and at that point she lost it.  I've never seen a 96 year old woman laugh so hard! We also set up an appointment with the manager to talk about service opportunities there. He said there is definitely stuff we can do, and we are super excited for a few hours of each week to be filled with something meaningful! #7dayzofblessins.  We are getting better at finding creative ways to fill every hour of every day.

 

The custody battle rages on with the investigator the elders stole. We kind of backed down, a la the Bible story where the two women are fighting over the baby so the king is just going to cut it in half. We are the true mother so we handed over the baby and washed our hands of the whole issue. Our mission president called us in to talk everything threw with us and said we are doing the right thing and that it is a bad situation, but it will work out. Our bishop said that he still wants our ward to do the new member lessons with her, but we told him that he will have to initiate that because we feel strongly that we, as missionaries, need to sit back and let everything unfold so we don't seem pushy or overly eager for more lessons to increase our numbers (because the elders accused us of that already and told the investigator that that was all we were trying to do, though the bishop in their ward defended us and told the investigator that he didn't get that impression at all and that we were just caring girls who wanted to help her progress in the gospel...those elders are literally the scum of the earth. I have never met such rude and manipulative "servants of The Lord" in my life).

 

We met with a less active guy this week. By some miracle his daughter was over when we dropped by and she gave us the entire scoop on her dad.  She is active and she has a daughter on a mission right now so she knows all too well why we were visiting him. She was hilarious about the whole situation. He was embarrassed at how much she was sharing, so he just went inside and grabbed us some homemade frozen burritos to avoid the awkwardness! He is very kind. He and his wife own a Hawaiian reception business run out of their backyard so he invited us to an anniversary party next weekend so we can see their performances and what exactly they do. We are excited! The daughter is the lady who texted you a picture of Sister Dumas and I this week, mom.

 

Sometimes getting close to members is hard because they open up to you. We had three different women tell us this week about their marital problems and it is just so sad to hear. I'm grateful that they trust us and that we have a good relationship with them (and that all three women have become more active in the church since we have been meeting with them), but it breaks my heart to see such wonderful women struggling. It's hard too that we can't really offer advice, though I think just us letting them vent to us helps a great deal. It has also heightened my already high fear of marriage. If my mission has taught me anything, it is that you have to marry someone on the same level as you. If your spirituality, general life expectations, or important habits (such as work ethic, scripture study, church attendance, etc.) greatly differ, you will have problems. It's so sad how many people go inactive in the church because a spouse drags them down. Remind me of this if I ever start to fall for a scrub (cue 90's song by TLC..."Scrub, I don't want no scrub, scrub is a guy that can't get no love from me..." Until I typed that out I didn't realize how horrific the grammar was in that song #ebonics)

 

We went shopping today and we are getting our hair cut and eyebrows waxed later. We dubbed today personal grooming day. I found some great things at TJ Maxx. It is the best one I have ever shopped in! My biggest find was a Calvin Klein skirt for $15. I got a couple Michael Kors shirts as well for a good price! I love name brand steals!

 

This week has really been a faith building week for me. I've been able to recognize the blessings that come from diligence in The Lord's timing. For The first time I really believe that The Lord placed me in this exact area for a reason. It has been such a blessing to feel like a useful servant.

 

Peace and Blessin's,

 

Sister Poppe

  

Me 

Me, Sister Dumas, and my awesome cousin Jessica

who took us to lunch last week!

Why I'm Serving a Mission

I tend to be a person of extremes.  I love something or I hate it.  I am really good at something or I’m downright awful at it.  I work very hard or am very lazy.  There are very few middle of the road areas in my life.  My ability to talk about and share my emotions falls into this category as well.  If I’m over the moon about something frivolous, you’ll know about it through multiple mediums.  If I have a strong political opinion, you’ll probably hear it.  If I detest a product or celebrity there will be a very public blog post about it.  On the other hand if I’m upset about something close to my heart, you’ll likely never know.  If I’m upset at a close friend or family member I’ll cover it up.  In this same respect, I haven’t shared with many people the long list of events that lead to me deciding to serve a mission.  I believe now is as good a time as any to tell the whole story.

In September of 2011 I had just started my junior year of college and was 20 years old.  I was living with two of my closest friends and was loving everything about my life.  I made a goal to attend the temple twice a month and started in mid-September.  While I was there I felt the urge to pray without knowing what to say.  This isn’t normal for me; I usually know what I want to converse with Heavenly Father about before I start.  I began my prayer and skirted through my mind unsure of what topic to land on.  I never really settled on anything and decided to end my prayer and read from the Pearl of Great Price.  I was reading from the book of Abraham about The Creation when I had the strongest impression that I should serve a mission.  This struck me as odd for two reasons; first, nothing about the scriptural passage I was reading had anything directly to do with missionary work; second, I never ever ever wanted to serve a mission (as badly as T-Swift never ever ever wants to get back together with whoever the other half of her we is).

There was a long line for baptisms that day so I had plenty of time to ponder on my recent spiritual prompting.  Having a topic to discuss with Heavenly Father, I decided to pray again.  We went around and around, He and I.  I reminded him that I didn’t want to serve a mission and that you should never serve a mission if you don’t want to.  He countered by whispering that sometimes we don’t know what we want. I also pointed out that I would be a terrible missionary—I hate talking about feelings and don’t like approaching strangers.  He gently reminded me that we are qualified to do any task we’re asked to do.  I rounded out my logical offense by letting him know that I had student loan debt and therefore I couldn’t afford a mission or a break from school.  He quietly spoke peace to my financial worries. 

I left the temple and called my mom in tears and relayed my experience.  Naturally she was excited because she, “always knew I would serve a mission!”  I was discouraged, exhausted, and confused after this experience and unsure what to do.  After all, I was only 20.  I was still seven months too young to serve a mission as girls still had to be 21 at this point in time to go forth and serve.  I continued to read my scriptures, attend my church meetings, go to the temple regularly, and really ponder what I was supposed to do with my life.  I started to warm up to the idea of a mission as 2012 rolled around and started to tell people I was planning on going on one. 

Shortly after my 21^st birthday I met with the bishop in my home ward, as I was home from college for the summer, and began the missionary application process.  Throughout this entire endeavor I had severe anxiety, doubts, and depression at the idea of going on a mission.  I never would have chosen to do this on my own.  I tried very hard to convince myself that The Lord knew what was best and that I had to do this, if only because my parents were so proud of me for making the decision.  I completed everything for my application and was awaiting my call when my stake president phoned me to let me know he had some news about my mission call.  My assignment hadn’t been made, and wouldn’t be until I lost 15 pounds, bringing me to a healthier weight to serve a physically demanding mission at. Having battled with my weight since childhood I quickly became discouraged and started to doubt again why I was trying so hard to do something that I never wanted to do in the first place.

A few weeks after this phone call I broke down on my way home from camp for a weekend long break and called my friend/former roommate.  During the two hour car ride, she calmed me down and told me that I needed to do what was right for me and if I felt that going on a mission wasn’t right anymore then I shouldn’t do it.  I got home and didn’t get two sentences into a conversation with my mom about my week at camp before I started sobbing and told her I didn’t want to go on a mission.  My parents still loved me despite my disappointing news and I excitedly started to plan my return to BYU at the end of August for my senior year of college.  For the first time in almost a year I felt at peace, though it was short lived.

I constantly battled feelings of inadequacy and guilt throughout fall semester 2012.  I felt that I wasn’t worthy of any blessings because I should have gone on a mission.  I felt alone and unloved and like a disappointment to everyone who had been excited for me to go on a mission.  These feelings subsided slightly when in October the lower mission age was announced and I felt that I definitely wasn’t needed in the mission field because zealous young men and women were submitting mission paperwork left and right.  By the end of Christmas break in January of 2013 I was starting to believe that I was forgiven for not serving a mission.  I went on to have the most fun and fulfilling semester I had ever had in college and really began to believe that it was in The Lord’s plan for me to be at BYU at that point in time, and not on a mission.  I did well in my classes, interned at a law firm, got closer to a recently acquired best friend, and was getting really good at baking new things. Again I was at peace.

The semester ended and I got a new job and was working 50-60 hours a week to save money for the upcoming semester’s tuition and a June trip to Disneyland.  I was so busy I never had time to think, but I randomly decided to set a goal to study Preach My Gospel every day for half an hour.  In the back of my mind I knew I was preparing for a mission, but I really didn’t want to admit it to myself. 

The end of June rolled around and I set out on a vacation to California with some friends of mine from college and a few friends of theirs’ from high school.  For the first time in months I had time to think.  I still don’t know how it happened, but on one of the last rides we rode at Disneyland of the night I realized I wasn’t living my life according to Heavenly Father’s plan.  While floating through the fake Pirate’s of the Caribbean village I suppressed tears and frustration.  My friend miraculously sensed that my attitude had abruptly changed, though I didn’t vocalize anything, leaned over and quietly asked if I was doing okay.  In true Amanda fashion, I plastered on an authentic looking smile and said, “Of course!  I’m just tired—it’s been a long day.”  And it had been a long day, we arrived at Disneyland before the gates opened and the park was about to close at this point in time.  He let it go and I mustered enough energy to act happy long enough to get me to my hotel room. 

I ignored the prompting I received at Disneyland and went about my trip for a few more days.  As I got into bed after a day in the exhausting heat at Seven Flags I decided I needed to pray about a mission.  I waited until my friend fell asleep and then quietly wept as I told Heavenly Father in defeat that I was tossing in my towel.  He was in charge now and I wasn’t going to try to change His mind anymore.  Despite the fact that our Inglewood neighbors were blaring mariachi music outside of my hotel window, I felt the quiet, but clear voice speak to my heart; it was finally time for me to serve a mission.  As my weary legs throbbed from my whirlwind day of tourism, my heart throbbed with them to the Mexican music's beat because I realized how much faith it would require for me to actually go on a mission this time around.

I woke up the next morning and instead of watching television and resting like the others were doing, I snuck into the hallway to call my mom.  For half an hour I sobbed as I told my mom about my revelation to serve a mission.  How could Heavenly Father expect me to do something I didn’t want to do?  How could he expect me to do something I was going to be so bad at?  How could he ask me to give up the life I had grown to love—the friends, the new job at the rec center, the school?  I got more than one awkward stare as hotel patrons passed my hot mess of a self with my knees pressed to my chest on the telephone with my mother.  After comforting me for a few minutes she finally told me to buck up; Heavenly Father doesn’t ask us to do things we can’t do and he definitely doesn’t punish us for following His will (one of my main arguments against serving a mission was that by the time I got home I would be 24 and old by Mormon standards and clearly would never be married.  I truly felt like I was being punished for something, but I wasn’t sure what).  

Again I mustered enough strength to act like I was happy and embarked on a day trip to the beach with my co-vacationers.  This time I couldn’t control all the tears and had to artfully hide them behind sunglasses in the very back row of my friend’s mother’s car.  As everyone argued about which beach to go to, I tried to keep the tears rolling down my cheeks to a minimum.  We stopped at a mall and I trailed behind the group a bit and sat down on a bench by myself as one of our party stopped for a Jamba Juice.  The same friend who questioned me at Disneyland about my feelings asked again if I was doing okay.  I actually responded truthfully and said I wasn’t.  I briefly mentioned that I had decided to graduate in December of 2013 instead of April of 2014 and put in mission papers with an availability date of January 1, 2014.  I told him doing the right thing doesn’t always come easily and that for the first time in my life I was having a hard time accepting that The Lord’s idea of right differed greatly from my own.  At this our friends were ready to go and we headed back to the car and set off for the beach.  He smiled and said things would work out and that a mission was exciting and then we both acted like our exchange hadn’t just happened.  The second we got to Huntington Beach I separated from the group and called my younger brother and cried openly among the strangers strewn on beach towels and the horrid seagulls as I told him my news.

After this conversation I decided to quietly lie on the sand for a moment and gather myself so I could convincingly appear happy the rest of the day.  I went on to have a really great time at the beach and successfully distracted myself the last 24 hours of our trip.  Somewhere along the line my plan to graduate in December leaked and I was met with questions that I successfully avoided.  I wasn’t ready to talk openly about my new plan so I just always changed the subject.

I got back to Provo the first week of July and waited a few weeks before I met with my bishop to start my mission papers.  To help with the flurry of feelings I was experiencing, a good friend gave me a blessing and I was promised a lot of beautiful things if I heeded The Lord's prompting.  I had started coming around to the idea, though I still had an emotional few weeks as I accepted what I needed to do.  Around the end of August, amidst other trials, I finally felt good about serving a mission.  I was excited and finally turned the most important corner I’ve ever turned.  I realized that The Lord has given me everything in life; the least I could do was give him 18 months AND be happy about it at the same time.  I changed my perspective and shared the most sincere testimony I have ever shared during my bishop’s interview a few weeks later.  I honestly told him that I wanted to serve a mission because I had felt the power of Christ’s merciful saving grace in my life and wanted to share that with others.  His atonement had picked me up when I was at my absolute lowest and everyone deserved the knowledge that He would do the same for them.  I went on to tell him that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is perfect, even though it is administered by imperfect beings—myself being one of them—and that if someone was looking for it, it was my duty to share it with them.  Tears streamed down my face as I told my bishop that Christ has the power to soothe a broken heart, as he recently had started to do with mine, lend understanding, offer peace and love, and be the only person when no one else seems to be around.  I shared that I don't understand The Lord's plan, but I know there is one and I knew I had to submit mission papers in accordance with this plan.  I told him I believed in Jesus Christ, every living prophet we’ve had on this Earth past and present, and in the power of the eternal family.  And I believed every word I said and knew that that was why I had to serve a mission.

By the end of September I had once again completed all of my paperwork, medical and dental visits, and interviews and was awaiting my call.  Having had a stressful second semester of college that year I had actually lost about 20 pounds since the first time I submitted my mission papers the year before and my weight wasn’t a deterrent in me getting a call this time around.  My attitude had also changed by October 9^th, the day I received my call to the Arizona Mesa Mission—literally the last place on Earth I thought I would be called to.

At this point it had been over two years since I had first been prompted to serve a mission.  I grew exponentially during that time and finally reached a point of clarity.  I was never intended to serve a mission in 2012 when I first submitted my paperwork.  All along the plan was for me to serve the people of Mesa, Arizona from January 29^th, 2014 until approximately July of 2015.  Heavenly Father, being the wise creator that he is, knew it would take two years to soften my very hard heart and thus planted the seed long before the harvest was required.  In my lack of wisdom I automatically assumed I had to go right after I turned 21 instead of when The Lord needed me to enter the field.

Despite getting my assignment to Mesa, Arizona, of all places, I was excited when I opened my call envelope and it all felt right.  I went on to have a few doubts throughout the semester and at times I still worry that I won’t make it to the MTC on January 29^th, but I have the assurance of understanding The Lord’s plan better now.  I also still find myself worrying that every eligible bachelor will magically find himself wedded by the time I return home at the ever-ancient age of 24, but I remind myself that if I am to be single forever that is all a part of the plan, not a bi-product of my mission’s timing.

Running Out the Door

When I was in high school I was a rather social being.  It wasn't uncommon for me to get home from school, work, or an extra-curricular activity and grab something to eat quick before I ran out the door again to do something with my friends.  Often I would mention to one of my parents my plans as I was exiting the house.  Most of the time they told me to have fun and reminded me to wake them up if I got home after they went to bed.  Sometimes though my brisk beeline to the door was halted with phrases such as, "You can't leave until you empty the dishwasher," or, "Put your laundry away before you go to the basketball game."

I realized today that I do the same thing with my prayers.  I often hastily tell Heavenly Father what my plan is as I'm about to do it and most of the time He agrees with me and tells me to wake him up when I get home.  Sometimes though he stops me on my way out the door and a course correction is required.  This has only happened to me a few times in life and it has resulted in very minor changes to my plan.  Well a little over a week ago I was stopped and asked to make a large course correction.  I have had an emotionally taxing summer as I've tried to figure a lot of things out.  I decided to avoid making decisions by drowning out my thoughts with 60 hour work weeks.  I didn't have time to think until I went to California on vacation and life slowed down considerably.  I found myself contemplating life in odd places, such as on a ride at Disneyland and in the backseat of my friend's car as we drove along the Pacific Coast Highway.  It was terribly inconvenient.  Finally toward the end of my trip I was clearly instructed to metaphorically "unload the dishwasher" before I continued on with life as I had planned.

At first I was really upset.  Sobs accompanied my explanations as I hid out in the hotel hallway and called my mom to update her on my life plan.  I was looking forward to taking one year to finish up my college education instead of one semester so that I would have time for an extremely high amount of fun.  After graduation I had even contemplated staying in Provo.  My friends are all here, I enjoy the independence that results from living 1,300 miles from my parents, and I've come to enjoy being here.  I was running full speed toward the door, ready to exit and have a fun time and was halted in my tracks.  I spent the next 4-5 days in an odd emotional/moody/generally selfish state in which I had to actively put on a happy face when I was around people so they would think I was normal.  The last few days of my pity party occurred when I was back in Provo.  After a friend gave me a blessing I realized it was time to embrace Heavenly Father's plan even though it will require a lot of sacrifice.  I'm terrified.

Today though, while I was sitting in church I had an epiphany.  When my parents asked me to complete a chore before I left the house in high school they weren't trying to keep me from what I had planned.  They just expected something from me before I set out to do what would bring me joy.  Never did I ever believe that my parents didn't want me to experience joy in high school.  Often I would do what I had been asked to do and then continue to do what I wanted.  I satisfied my parent's desires and my own even though I had originally only made time for myself.  My experiences weren't diminished in the slightest.  The same is true in this situation.  I foolishly believed that Heavenly Father had completely disregarded my wishes by instructing me to drastically change my plan.  I believed that I was being asked to sacrifice many opportunities that would never be provided to me again.  I've been asked by Heavenly Father to do something I never imagined I would do.  It throws a wrench in the next 2 years of my life, but in the eternal scheme of things it's only a small chore he requires of me before I can continue my flee out the door to the bright future I have planned.  My life isn't necessarily going off the plan I created, instead an extra loop has been added to my track that still leads to the same goals, dreams, and aspirations I had originally set out to accomplish.  Like in high school, I will enjoy my plans more knowing that I unloaded Heavenly Father's dishwasher before I left the house to see a movie with my friends.

7 Years

Sometimes I forget that Joseph Smith knew about the plates hidden in the Hill Cumorah for 7 years before he was instructed to obtain and translate them.

Sometimes I forget that Joseph was sold into slavery at the age of 17 and didn't translate Pharaoh's dream until he was 30.

Sometimes I forget that the Israelites were held in bondage at the hands of the Egyptians for hundreds of years before the Lord liberated them through Moses.

Sometimes I forget that I am not in charge of my life's timetable, but that doesn't mean there isn't a timetable.

Let's rewind to my high school graduation: circa 2009.  I had just finished a school year in which I served as the co-editor of our high school year book, drum major for marching and pep band, choir president, National Honor Society president, one of six senior class student council representatives, and senior class president.  On top of my leadership roles I had performed in a musical, play, and on a one act competition team, was a member of our school's jazz choir and flute choir, was working a part time job at the pharmacy in town, worked hard to get top ratings on both my vocal and clarinet solos at our annual competition, was taking two AP classes, sat first chair at the all-conference honor band concert that year, and was on the first ever CFHS Minnesota state champion We the People team.  I was graduating a four year letter winner in academics, band, and choir among other letters that I had accomplished only two or three of my high school years, and had been voted most musical and best female singer by my classmates.  2008-2009 was a great school year for me and I believed my last year as a child was going to propel me into an adulthood of prosperous circumstances.  Now before you're overly impressed with me, I should mention that I was in a class of 106 graduates--it's not like I held all these titles and had beat out 1200 other students for them.  Nevertheless I was full of confidence and ready to enter Brigham Young University and make a name for myself.

Instead, I spent my first year of college struggling with self worth and believing I wasn't destined for anything above mediocrity; how can you excel when 35,000 other BYU students graduated from high school with all the accomplishments I listed above and then some?  I drowned my sorrows and fear in far more Nutella than any person should eat in 9 months and stupidly chopped off my hair.  It took a study abroad to London in 2010 for me to re-find myself and re-dedicate myself to finding my path in life.  With a more humble outlook on my future I finished my second year of college and began to tell myself again that there was a plan for me--it just may involve less grandiose accomplishments than I previously anticipated.  Two years later I've just finished my senior year of college and have another year left before BYU will give me a diploma.  I'm as lost as I was my freshman year of college and still wonder what magnificent things await for me.  When I try and imagine my future I just get lost and don't know what to do.  Unfortunately, the dewey-eyed 18 year old who strode across the graduation stage four years ago with confidence in her own plan was wrong about many of the expectations she set for herself.  I didn't end up majoring in music, I didn't finish college in four years, I didn't have a crazy awesome dating life, and I am no closer to knowing what I want to do for a career than I was the day I was born.

I lost confidence in my plan a few years ago, but eventually gained confidence in the Lord's plan.  I feel like I talk and write about my uncertainty in life a lot.  I think it's because it's something that I've finally learned to embrace in the last 6 months or so and I hope others don't take as long as I did to revel in life's uncertainty.  I didn't come into college with an open heart. I set goals, I made plans, and I didn't confer with the Lord at all.  SURPRISE!  I'm not really the one in charge, but it's better that way.  If I was in charge I would have missed out on so much.  I've been thinking about the Lord's plan for me a lot lately.  Almost incessantly.  Today while I was studying though I was reminded that:


Joseph Smith knew about the plates hidden in the Hill Cumorah for 7 years before he was instructed to obtain and translate them.

Joseph was sold into slavery at the age of 17 and didn't translate Pharaoh's dream until he was 30.

The Israelites were held in bondage at the hands of the Egyptians for hundreds of years before the Lord liberated them through Moses.

I am not in charge of my life's timetable, but that doesn't mean there isn't a timetable.