Overlander and the Ovaltine

One of my writing classes requires me to write about a personal experience of my choosing and then to rewrite it every week. This is one of my more recent rewrites and one of my funniest mission memories.

       We trudged through the snow, slogging our boots through the heavy slush, laughing cheerfully, and looking for the tale-tell signs of a Karen-occupied house. I don’t know how other language missionaries knew where to find people, but in Karenland, there were some pretty good giveaways. Besides the obvious Karen flag, there were things like fishing rods or bicycles leaning up against the house, multi-colored curtains (or blankets) hanging in the windows, either no car in the driveway or a very old one, and, most indicative of all, red betel nut juice splatters on the front steps and giant, oversaturated, very photoshopped posters of babies or nature scenes. I think every Karen house had at least one of those posters.

We knocked at a house that had all of the qualifications and then some. A cheerful, wrinkled man came shuffling to the door of the home where he, his wife, and their lively grandchildren resided.

Oh my goodness! I have to tell Chris about this!

 He was wearing, not the traditional Karen skirt, but a fluffy, pink-and-white, polka-dotted bathrobe with one pink slipper. We tried to suppress our giggles as he invited us into the room. Stepping inside, we were transported to another reality. Karen homes often have multi-colored Thai mats on the floor and one or two of the giant posters. This house was wallpapered in them. Floor to ceiling, wall to wall, it was a kaleidoscope of colors and images and visual noise.

This is going to be great! I can’t wait to describe this to Chris. I wonder if we can get a picture with them before we leave. Hmmm . . .

Overlander (the man who had let us in) invited us to sit down and asked if we would like some tea. I glanced behind us and in the middle of this cultural jungle was an ordinary china cabinet with a full-service tea set. It was so out of place that I couldn’t help but grin and came close to laughing out loud. This was unusual. Karen people never had china dishes or tea sets, let alone a whole set!

Dear Elder Chris,

How do you explain to an elderly Karen couple that you don’t drink tea? I guess that is part of the lessons, but we haven’t gotten that far with our vocab words yet!

Fortunately, Overlander spoke very good English. British English, actually. He had no problem with us not drinking tea and insisted that we have some Ovaltine instead. In the tea cups. With saucers. Only then could we proceed to the lesson. We acquiesced, bemused.

I’ve never been served Ovaltine in a tea cup before. Come to think of it, I’ve never had a conversation with a man in his bathrobe and slippers before either. Or met a Karen person who speaks British English. Or been in a house with this much color. Or . . . any of this before, really. All new experiences! I’m trying so hard not to laugh, but it’s really hard not to when I look down and see his pink slippers and then I look back up and the Ovaltinepot is passing by again. Oooo! I’m going to crack, I know it! I can’t look my companions in the eyes either because I know they’re about to break too!

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any better, Overlander insisted on bringing out his violin to play for us. Bent over, he shuffled into a back room, returning with a cracked and peeling violin case and music that had once been bound together. Sitting back down at the table, he opened the case and explained to us that he had bought the violin when he was a boy in Burma. Once he laid the violin out on the table, he slowly looked through his available music, stray papers periodically dropping to the floor as he tried to determine what to play for us.

My sides are aching with suppressed laughter! I don’t even know where I am! I know I’m supposedly in wintery Minnesota, but in this tropically-temperatured house with Britishly-cultured Thai people, I’m losing all sense of American normality!

            Overlander selected a piece and started in with fragile gusto. His bow squeaked and squealed over the strings of the violin, sounding something akin to a strangled cat.

            Ahahahaha! I’m dying! This is the best lesson I’ve ever had! Oh! If only you were here to hear this!

            The final straw was when, partway through playing, Overlander stopped short, decided that it wasn’t the piece that he wanted to play for us, and selected a new one. This time, the violin screeched out the strains of “The Wedding March.”

            We didn’t make it to the car before we were crying with laughter. This was definitely making it into my next letter to Chris.

Happiness

This is a post that I wrote and never published. Here it is, with an update too!

A year and a half ago (a little over four years now), I fell in love. It's been an interesting experience. It's been my greatest joy along with some pain. But I would never undo it.

It snuck up on me, which is pretty unsurprising if you know me. When I moved out, I figured that even though I was on the young side, I'd be the roommate who made sure the other girls were in safely at night before locking the door, the one to help finish getting ready for a date, the one to find lost things and to remind others about the keys left on the table. Because that's always been me. 

I was never the girl with big, exciting news to tell about a date on Friday night or from any other night for that matter. I was always the one to listen and smile and give big hugs and cheer romance on from the sidelines. And you know what? I was okay with that. I was okay with not getting much attention from guys and not having lots of dates. Too many people looking at you. We all people-watch and I have always preferred to be the observer rather than the observee.

So I was okay with it. I was looking forward to hearing the stories, either funny or fantastic, that my roommates would tell when they got back. I was looking forward to the slightly more grown up version of playing dress up. I was looking forward to the giggles and the teasing and the blushes of it all. Besides, I've never really connected with guys. I'm very much quietness and pixie dust and strawberry lemonade. There may be quiet guys and guys that like strawberry lemonade but there are hardly any guys that like pixie dust and even fewer who like quiet, sparkly, pink-hued lemonade. 

So imagine my surprise when I met someone, a guy someone, that I could talk to about practically anything under the sun and in whose company I never felt the least bit uncomfortable or fake. Sometimes I do that accidentally. Be uncomfortable and turn into a talking plastic shell that vaporizes when I walk away. It's exhausting and I don't like it because then the person I was talking to wasn't actually talking to me . . . just some projection I put up in my panic not to be left with nothing to say.

But I didn't do that. And I didn't stay tucked neatly inside of myself either. I didn't come out of my shell all the way, but I didn't need to. I felt at home.

I didn't think it would last, not with the same strength as that first time. But hey, I'd managed to have a genuinely comfortable conversation with a guy who was practically a stranger. That's progress!

So imagine my surprise when the next time we talked, it was the same way. I found myself the last one at activities. The last one except for him. And that was only because he was talking to me. We were talking! And it was fun! And before I knew what had happened, we were friends. I'd had guys as friends before, but it wasn't the same. This was someone that I felt comfortable being around constantly. And for an introvert, that's saying something. It's not that I got tired of being around other friends, it's just that around other friends, I would get tired. I would use up my store of social energy and have to retreat for a while.

But we kept talking. And I was happy about that.

Then came the day when I found myself scheming for excuses to invite him over. We'd only hung out in group settings before, but I wanted to just invite him. I started thinking. "Movie?" No, too date-like. "Games!" Oh, I don't have any. "Small group of people that he just happens to be one of?" Wait, that's the point. No people. Um . . . .

I finally hit on it. Food. I'm good at food. Guys like food. This is good. Invite people over for food! (Because of course I chickened out of just inviting him) And then I was given the perfect excuse. Too many chopped carrots from making foil dinners. And what else do you do with a gallon bag's worth of pre-chopped carrots but make carrot cake?

He and his friend showed up after everyone else (don't worry, the friend was someone I had invited too) and a small group of us started talking. We hit the curfew for the apartment, so we moved to the lobby. We hit curfew for the lobby, so we moved outside. And we just kept talking. Eventually, we decided to say goodnight, but not until we had given ourselves stitches from laughing so hard we had trouble breathing.

And it hit me. I'd like a lot more nights spent that way with him. I'd even found myself flirting, which for me is being entirely myself and allowing myself to be ridiculous and even vulnerable. I'd been flirting and wasn't even embarrassed by it at all.

Before this starts sounding too much like a romantic comedy, I didn't have any grand designs to win him over. For one thing, I wouldn't have known how. For another, he wasn't going to be sticking around. He was going to be leaving to serve a mission for two years. Besides, I was happy having him around and I didn't even consider that we could date or anything like that. I was just happy to have him around for as long as I could.

I didn't want a boyfriend. I was just getting used to the whole going on dates in general thing, let alone trying to complicate things with a boyfriend. No thanks, I'll just keep things simple. 

We started hanging out almost every night. Spending several hours a day talking to someone really lets you get to know them. The more I knew, the more I was happy that he was my friend. We ended up going on a date, but I knew lots of guy/girl friends who went on dates. We had planned about two hours for the date. I think it ended up about six. Not because it was anything elaborate, just because we kept talking. It was the simplest of dates: ice cream and a walk. It was perfect.

Over the next few weeks, we spent hours and hours talking, not about anything in particular, just whatever came up. We even went on another date. And the entire time, I was completely at ease. 

It wasn't like we were dating-dating. I was open to being asked by other people and  he asked other girls. I had realized pretty early on that I wouldn't mind dating him, but I didn't think he'd be interested in it. And I was okay with that. I was still happy.

Unsurprisingly (to everyone but me), we started dating. Officially and everything. And I realized, I had a boyfriend. What was I doing with a boyfriend? I didn't want one when I started out and I didn't really want one even then. That's right. Even when we started dating, I still didn't want a boyfriend. But I wanted to be with him, so I changed my mind. And I was even happier. 

Having him as my boyfriend wasn't much different than having him be my very good friend. We still talked about pretty much everything there is to talk about and spent time together. There were perks to having him as my boyfriend, however. I could give him long hugs without feeling intrusive. I could feel not-guilty about flirting with him. I could keep falling in love with him without thinking that I might possibly be stepping on another girl's toes. 

Because by the time we started dating, I had already started falling in love with him. In fact, I'd realized that I was beginning to fall in love with him the moment I realized that I was looking him in the eyes and laughing and flirting.

By the time we had been dating a few weeks, I knew that I wasn't just falling anymore. I was in love. Not just the kind of giddy, twitterpated, stars-in-your-eyes kind of love (although there was that too), but the kind of love where you care so deeply about another person's well-being that you would make any sacrifice. And I had chosen well. He was the sweetest person imaginable and also one of the strongest. He would never intentionally hurt me and he never stopped trying to serve me. He was someone that I trusted and I knew he trusted me. He had become my best friend and that was who I had fallen in love with.

He's out serving a  mission right now (got home this last January!) and I am so proud of him. I can only imagine the ways in which he will bless people's lives. He's out serving God and that's exactly where he's supposed to be.

I don't know what the future holds. I don't know what's going to happen. But I do know is that it will happen and if we listen to God, we will both end up exactly where we are supposed to be, wherever that ends up being.

I fell in love almost a year and a half ago (or four!) and I'm still in love today. For me, loving someone isn't something that you can turn on and off. It isn't something that's conditional on someone's behavior. It isn't even conditional on whether or not they love you back. I'm not by any means advocating staying in an unhealthy relationship, but I am saying that love isn't about you. Love is not about meeting your needs or ensuring your happiness.

Love is charity. And charity "suffereth long, and is kind . . . envieth not . . . seeketh not her own . . . is not easily provoked . . . beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things . . . . Charity never faileth" (1st Corinthians 13: 4-8). 

Being in love isn't the easiest. It doesn't always equal happiness. But I believe that love is the most valuable gift that you can give to another person. To me, loving someone means never giving up.

I've heard it lots of times. "You're still very young." "Two years is a long time." "People change." "You can't possibly know that you're in love." "You're too young to be able to decide something like that." "Time will tell." And one of my favorites, "You don't want to just automatically rule out everybody else."

Yes, people change and time will tell. Who knows, we could end up being such different people in two years that we'll wonder how we ever could have dated. But wouldn't my love be cheap and worthless if only the possibility of things not working out was enough to smother it? What kind of value would my love hold if a shadow was all that was necessary to put it out?

Who knows what will happen in the future. I certainly don't. But I've been thinking a lot about love and charity lately, and how in their best forms, they really end up being the same thing. So right now, I'm happy to be where I am. I'm content to work on myself. I'm happy and I'm happy to be in love.

* * * *

And here we are, two and a half years later. And now I know what the future was to bring. Happiness! My boyfriend and I have now both returned from missions. (Look for letters to follow about my Minnesota experience!) We returned two days apart, which was surprising but very exciting. 

We decided that we should see each other in person so that we could figure things out. Emails and letters are great but we knew that it would be important to become reacquainted and to talk in person. Plus we really missed each other. So after about three weeks of being home, Chris picked me up from the airport. And oh my goodness :) That first hug in two years and we were back. There was no awkwardness, just happiness and contentment. We spent a week going on dates and talking and spending time together and with family. 

The Sunday before we were going to my parents' home, we were on a drive to talk. And we were prompted to pray together. And overwhelmingly, our answer was that we should be married. We were thrilled. And nervous. And thrilled. We told his parents and they were excited. We would have told my parents but he hadn't met them yet....

So that was next. We flew back and he got to meet my whole family. All at once! I'm sure that wasn't overwhelming.....Anyway, he got to talk to my parents and I had adventures staying with my grandparents and the day before he flew home, we "borrowed" my youngest brother after school and drove up to the temple for picture-taking. And then, after three and a half years of dating, Chris asked me to marry him. He teases me that I didn't say "yes". I said "Of course!"

Fast-forward two months and both of our families were at the temple. We knelt across a sacred alter and made promises in the sight of God. And we were married, sealed for time and all eternity. And we couldn't have been happier. 

Six(ish) months later, we are still enormously happy. We've had many small and medium-sized trials along the way. We've had challenges and upsets. But we are happy. We are content. We are joyful. I didn't think that I wanted a boyfriend but now I'm glad I do. He's my permanent boyfriend, my best friend, my husband, and my companion for eternity. And I am so, so happy :)

Be Strong, and of a Good Courage

"We live in a world where moral values have, in great measure, been tossed aside, where sin is flagrantly on display, and where temptations to stray from the strait and narrow path surround us. We are faced with persistent pressures and insidious influences tearing down what is decent and attempting to substitute the shallow philosophies and practices of a secular society."

Those are the words of President Monson, describing our world today. In the face of such adversity, what can we do? In a world that brings us pain and sorrow, how do we continue?

The answer, as always, comes to us from the Lord, who said "Be strong, and of a good courage." This, brothers and sisters, is both my topic and my invitation today. 

When we think of courage, what probably first comes to mind is someone, possibly a knight or a prince, who is fighting a physical battle. Courage, however, comes in all forms and touches many, many areas of our lives.

It takes courage to be kind. Some time ago, I did something that hurt someone that I cared about. It was something thoughtless and unintentional, but it still hurt her terribly. I could see the pain I had caused, but I didn't know how to make it right. I was afraid that because of my mistake, I had lost her friendship and possibly even her respect forever. Instead of choosing hurt or anger-feelings that would have been entirely justified-this woman chose to follow Christ's path. She choose love and charity. The next time that we met, instead of expressing her anger, she chose to show me love. To me, that was a great act of courage. It takes courage to look past ourselves and to be kind, even when others do not deserve it.

It takes courage to endure. There are days when it seems like you're already beaten down and then a new load of cares is delivered right to your doorstep. How easy would it be to sink down, and to stop where we are and to give up. But be of a good courage, do not despair. There will always be hands outstretched to help you, including those of the Savior who has graven you upon the palms of his hands and who will never forget nor forsake you. So be of a good courage, keep going, and move forward.

It also takes courage to be cheerful. Being cheerful isn't easy. Even when it's a habit, there are many fears and annoyances that can insinuate themselves and affect our mood. But be of good cheer! God lives the Gospel is true, and all that the Lord promises will come to pass. Be of good cheer and remember that the Lord loves you. He will provide a way. It may not be an easy one, or even a way you can see at first, but it will be there. 

It takes courage to follow the promptings of the Spirit. Sometimes they seem difficult or maybe even insignificant, but God is willing to bless us immeasurably for a small act of faith. We learn "line upon line, precept upon precept, here a little and there a little." Learning to follow even the smallest promptings of the Spirit helps us to learn and blesses our lives. Having the courage to follow our promptings will bless not only our lives, but the lives of others and will enable us to be better tools in the Lord's hands. 

Be of good courage, for the Lord thy God is with thee, and who can stand against Him? Having courage, the kind of courage that will help you to weather any storm and endure any hardship, requires faith. Courage comes when we trust in the Lord and trust His plans over ours. Having the courage to go where the Spirit directs and to do what the Lord asks of us means that we must have faith in Christ. I'm sure that that is not news to everyone, but since faith produces courage, and courage prompts us to increase our faith, our courage and our faith are always growing when we put our trust in God. Elder Holland has said, “If for a while the harder you try, the harder it gets, take heart. So it has been with the best people who ever lived" (The Inconvenient Messiah, BYU Speeches, Feb 15, 1982).

Having courage does not mean that you rely entirely on your own strength. We're simply not strong enough. In the first section of the Doctrine and Covenants, the Lord says that the fullness of His gospel will "be proclaimed by the weak and simple unto the ends of the world, before kings and rulers."  This may not initially seem like much of a comfort. We've just been called weak! But to me, this scripture speaks peace to my soul to know that I am not alone. I am weak, but God is strong. When I rely on Him, I have His strength to do His work. The Lord does not expect us to work alone. We have been commanded to pray and to ask for guidance and when we do, we can do far more than we ever could on our own.

This life is not easy, but God is far more interested in molding you into who you need to be than in you having an easy life. Amidst all our trials and cares, the courage that comes from an abiding, living testimony and faith in Jesus Christ is what will sustain us. None of us are intended to fail. Take heart in knowing that God is on your side, and if you let Him, He will direct your path.

As many of you know, I have been called on a mission an I leave in a week for the Minnesota Minneapolis Mission. It has taken a lot of courage to prepare for this, but I can already see the Lord blessing me and those around me. Better than I know anything else, I know that God lives. I know that Jesus Christ is His son, that He died for us, and that He was resurrected. I know that the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is the true and living church of God on the Earth. I know without a doubt that Joseph Smith was a prophet, called of God to restore the Gospel in the latter days and that Thomas S. Monson is the living prophet of a living God. The Book of Mormon is the word of God, as is the Bible. I know that the temple is the House of the Lord and that we will be strengthened and comforted when we take the time to attend. Be strong, and of a good courage, brothers and sisters. The Lord lives and He loves each and every one of you. I bear my testimony of this and say these things in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

A Love Letter to My Family

It seems like all spells of intense thinking come at night, oftentimes when you should be asleep. Tonight is no exception.

It's been a roller coaster of a month. There has been laughter, tears, and many, uh, let's call them interesting situations that have presented me with the opportunity for both. And beside me through all f it has been my family.

For me, leaving family is the hardest part of going. And I don't just have family in one place, either. I have family in the place I was born. I was blessed enough to be able to go visit them a little while ago. It was wonderful and exciting and absolutely exhausting. I was there for a little over a week but it felt like a month-in a good way. We just crammed a month's worth of activities into a week's visit. It was hard to leave them and not know when I'll be able to see them again. But it was so much fun to be able to spend time catching up.

I have family in the place where my parents and siblings live. One set of grandparents are nearby and some cousins too. It's the place that I return to, the place that I grew up, and the place where my opposite-of-extended-family is. (I know the term is "nuclear family" but it's just not descriptive enough.) My siblings were my playmates and fellow adventurers. We made forts, created stories, argued, and learned how to share. The family that I have here is the family that I know the most, the one that I've known nearly all my life.

And there is other family for me here too. There are people that I've known since I was very little, people that I've talked with and associated with for (what is to me) a long time. In a way, these people too are family.

There are the girls that became sisters to me, through shared experiences and the sharing of confidences. They're my family as well.

Then there are the people that I've met since moving out to college. Roommates, friends, people from my wards, even leaders. There are more people that have become part of my family in the past few years. They were hard to leave as well.

This parting was probably the most difficult for me. Before, we were all scattering, or in the case of my family back home, they'll always be the people that I return to, for holidays, family parties, visits . . . . This time, however, it was me leaving them. They were staying with each other, or at least close. This time, I was the one leaving with the possibility of not having my family there when I return.

I know that there are so many wonderful things in the future but a large part of me doesn't want to give up our late nights, adventures, heart-to-hearts, moments of silliness, support, and love that we created. But I had to, and that made it hard.

It may be a cliché, but it's certainly a true one: Home is not so much a place, as it is people. People are where I find my home and right now, my home is split. It's split between the new and the old, between the people that are family by blood and the people that are family by virtue of being "kindred spirits." I have so many places that have family.

It's hard to always be separated from some of my family, to have the cravings for some replaced by the missing of others but what outweighs the grief of missing them is the joy that I have in them. I have been so blessed to have been surrounded wherever I am with people that I can consider family. I have been surrounded with love and opportunities and so, so blessed with the people in my life.

There are so people, so many of you that I miss. I wish I could talk to each of you personally, and spend time hearing about your life and what you're doing, what you've been up to. I can't but I hope you know that I appreciate each of you. Each of my family members and my friends means a lot to me.

On this earth, there will never be a time when I will be able to be surrounded by all of those I love and care for. This could bring me great pain, but I think that it is part of an incredible blessing. It means that no matter where I am, I will have family with me. No matter where I go, I will always never be without family. And that is one of the greatest blessings I think anybody could have.

Thank you for being a  part of my life, for the adventures great or small that we've shared. I hope that there are more to come in the future. There are so many people to miss, but that is only because I have been blessed with a large and ever-growing family. I am so lucky to have an amazing family that brings me so much joy.

All my love,
Elicia

Dishonoring Vows

I appreciate humor as much as the next person and I can definitely relate to not being 100% satisfied by book endings. But how dare you, sir!

I came across a meme (for lack of a better word. I don't know what it's actually called) that was some famous tv show host going on a bout how J.K. Rowling had supposedly said (I've never actually found the interview in which she was supposed to have said this so I have to go with "supposedly")that Harry and Hermione should actually be together. Which, I understand since I've thought that since the beginning. What upset me was his suggestion.

He suggested, no, demanded that another book be written, one in which Harry , after I think it was 10 years, recognizes his true feeling for Hermione , she apparently has always had feelings for him, and they go off together for a night and have an affair.

HOW DARE YOU! "Sir" is too much of a title for you because with a remark like that, you are obviously not a gentleman.

What kind of suggestion is that? What kind of suggestion is it for a husband to abandon his wife and children, even for a night, to break the promises that he made for his marriage in order to satisfy his own personal lusts and vice versa? What kind of twisted suggestion is that?

Part of this suggestion was that in doing so, Harry would "man up." Excuse me, but that is in no way, shape or form any sort of  "manning up." To man up would be if Harry realized that he had these feelings (a little late, don't you think?) and then proceeded to squash them. And why would he do that? Because he would put the needs, especially including the emotional needs, of his family above his own. He would be making a choice to sacrifice his personal desires in favor of preserving his family.

"Manning up" would be for Harry to strengthen his relationship with his wife and to work on loving her more. He would honor her and he would protect her. He would serve her and her would never, ever, do anything to endanger the solid foundation of their marriage. That is "manning up."

What's so important about the fictional life of a fictional character and choices that he didn't actually make? It's a reflection of how our culture and our society thinks. There were people cheering this on and there are people laughing and agreeing with this suggestion. There are people who find it funny. But I cannot. I cannot find the humor in the idea of someone abandoning all of his vows, promises that he swore to honor, to satisfy something so base. Love is grand and good but it is not love that invites you to forsake those you have made promises to.

It was and is not funny to me that someone could think that such an idea was good. It is not. That is simply all there is to it. Breaking promises and dishonoring vows is not to be celebrated and cheered on. It is something that is shameful and that should not be acceptable or encouraged.

How to Contour Your Face And Look Beautiful

"How to Contour Your Face And Look Beautiful"

NO. No. Just no.

Stop it! Stop believing that you have to look a certain way to be beautiful! You're beautiful already (or handsome if you're a guy).

It makes me mad when I come across headlines like the one above. They always show a before and after photo, the former implying that because they're not plastered in make-up, they are not beautiful. Because their cheekbones are not razor sharp and their face perfectly highlighted, they are not beautiful. What a joke. What a stupid, idiotic, sick kind of joke.

I read an article the other day that brought up the idea that the industries that objectify women (fashion, make-up, diets, etc) are not actually perpetuated by men, but by women themselves. The article pointed out that it isn't men who buy the magazines advertising 101 ways to lose weight for bikini season, it's the women. It's those who are the customers and consumers of these industries who are the perpetuators.

I've thought about this before and I'd like to extend this idea to fit all of humanity in general. The people who are truly perpetuating the ideas and myths about appearance and expectations are ourselves! Whenever you find yourself coming up against a social construct about, say, what you should look like, you put it there! You looked at what was around you and you let yourself believe that, despite knowing that the model was probably airbrushed out of existence, you should look like them. You let yourself define your own self-worth in comparison to the world of images around you and held them up every time you looked in a mirror.

It's you who decides if you're skinny enough, if you're comfortable enough, whether you look better with or without make-up. So stop upholding these ridiculous standards for yourselves. If you find yourself dissatisfied with your appearance, first evaluate whether it's a valid concern or not. If it is, fix it! It's okay, even healthy, to compare yourself to your standards but only if that prompts you to do something about it. And I'm not talking strict dieting either. Learn to recognize the signs of your own body. No two bodies are alike so sorry, there's not magic formula for perfection.

So learn to listen to your body and only uphold healthy standards. And love yourself for who you are. Contoured or not, I think you have a beautiful face.

Forum 13B- A Simple Testimony

"Jesus Christ: Whom having not seen, [I] love; in whom, though now [I] see him not, yet believing, [I] rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory" (adapted from 1 Peter 1:8). 

Peter's words are a perfect expression of my testimony. I have not seen Jesus Christ with my own eyes or heard Him preach but I do know Him and I love Him as my Savior and elder brother. I have not had a vision nor have I been visited by angels proclaiming His existence, but I believe that He is there. I know that my Redeemer lives. I know that with a surety that cannot be shaken. I know without a doubt that there is a God in heaven and that reigns benevolently over the Universe. I know that we are loved by God, who has created a plan for the perfection of His children, and Christ, who sacrificed Himself for the sins of the world that all may be forgiven. 

I believe that God has ordained certain laws, not to bind us, but for our protection and guidance. I know that obedience to these laws brings everlasting happiness and enables us to become closer to God. I know that coming closer to God gives us a confidence and peace of mind that is unparalleled by anything else. Just as any parent tries to teach their children the things that they need to know in order to be happy and successful, God has given us instructions that are ultimately for our benefit. I know that God wants us to be close to Him as our Father but that it is our choice to do so. 

We are all part of a loving eternal family and if we understood how much we are individually loved, we would never feel alone again or doubt that there is a God and a purpose to this life. I testify that there is a God in heaven and that there is a purpose to this life. I invite everyone to take a moment to reflect on their relationship with God and consider His love for you and for His other children. I promise that if you truly seek God, He will not be hidden from you and that in seeking Him, you will find your greatest joy.