Measuring up

This morning I was perusing blogs I follow of friends and acquaintances, some single, some married. I looked at pictures of their families, read posts about their recent craft or home improvement projects, their straight-A semesters. I looked with envy at the cute dresses a friend had sewn for her little girl, marveled at how beautifully a young couple's new home had been decorated.

I tell myself I read these things to "find inspiration" or "get ideas." However, I think it's safe to say that every time I finish reading, I feel the sad realization that I'm never going to measure up to these women. I'm not an expert seamstress, and I lack the patience for very detailed work. I work very hard in school, but I don't always ace every class. I'm taking an interior design class, but I don't feel confident in my ability to decorate a home with taste and perfect coordination.

It's easy to look at these women and suddenly feel like a complete failure. Thoughts of never measuring up, never being good at these things, someday being a poor wife and mother creep in the instant I let down my guard. I think, actually, I know, this is a common problem among sisters in the Church. We want to be that "perfect" person in every aspect of our lives, and there's always someone that we can look at and idolize, placing them on a pedestal of perfect sisterhood. Elder Wirthlin gave some valuable council, though, in an article from 2001 that was quoted in the February Ensign:

"Let me cite a hypothetical example of a dear sister in any ward, the one who has perfect children who never cause a disturbance in church. She is the one working on her 20th generation in her family history, keeps an immaculate home, has memorized the book of Mark, and makes wool sweaters for the orphaned children in Romania. No disrespect, of course, intended for any of these worthy goals. Now, when you get tempted to throw your hands in the air and give up because of this dear sister, please remember you're not competing with her any more than I'm competing with the members of the Quorum of the Twelve in winning a 50-yard dash.

"The only thing you need to worry about is striving to be the best you can be. And how do you do that? You keep your eye on the goals that matter most in life, and you move towards them step by step." (Elder Joseph B. Wirthlin, "One Step after Another," Ensign, Nov. 2001)

Every child of God who has ever been or ever will be has been blessed with divine talents and attributes that make them special and successful in the eyes of the Lord, if they strive to improve upon them and use them to build His kingdom. Maybe I'm not good at sewing or crafting, but I have other talents, and God knows that, and in His eyes I am just as special as anyone else. It's not a competition - it's a personalized life experience, the point of which is to become the person Heavenly Father knows we can truly be, someone like Him.

I love the Gospel!

The best feeling in the world...

Is finding out that you passed the test to get into your major and you made it, and you don't have to retake the test, don't have to replan your life, don't have to rework all your dreams, and the best part is that you prayed about it the night before and asked for God to guide you - and this was the answer.

I got into the Translation major. Green light to continue on the path I have planned!

Oh, and I also must share a bit more random trivia. I joined Sigma Delta Pi. We had a fabulous initiation ceremony where we stood in a circle and lit our candles from the club president's candle, symbolizing the light that shines within each of us, and then we put our lights out with our fingers. Although we didn't actually light the candles, because there's some pretty awesome fire codes about that. So it was all imaginary. I was then given some cords to wear when I graduate - in two+ years. Better not lose those. I also ate some strawberry cheesecake, met a bunch of people, and decided Sigma Delta Pi might end up being a lot of fun.

Second random story. I ate dinner tonight in the hallway of the JKB with the custodial night crew. Seriously. Apparently they have a potluck dinner every friday, and since my locker is in that hall, their overly friendly supervisor refused to let me gracefully exit and insisted I share in their feast. It was actually quite fun, once I got past the awkwardness of it all - I met four really awesome people at my table who I hope to run into again - they were cool.

Yay for super random days...

Beautiful peace

I'm working on a Day Zero goal to make a list of 101 things that make me happy. It isn't finished, mainly because there are SO many things that make me happy that I can't decide what the top 101 would be!

But as I changed my desktop background at work this morning, I realized one of the things I love most. Beautiful nature scenery. Whether it's the sun filtering through a cool canopy of leaves in a mountain forest, or the way the ocean stretches out to meet the horizon in the distance, there's a certain peace I find from sitting and drinking in the beauty that God has created. That's a kind of peace and joy I haven't found any other way - and I love it.

These are all pictures I took in Spain - in moments where the beauty took my breath away.

Summer memories

Today all I can think about is picnics - blankets spread out on the green grass at the park, half in the shade, half in the sun, my toes reaching into the blades of grass and feeling the warm earth underneath. Watermelon - at the perfect stage, juicy and crisp, no strings in it, definitely lots of seeds, there may or may not be a very unladylike seed spitting contest at this picnic. Maybe some lemonade, or a cold can of Sprite. The sky is so blue that you could almost fall into it, and a few puffy white clouds float around and make funny shapes in the blue expanse above. Across the park, a mom pushes her daughter in the swing, who squeals and giggles as she flies through the air. The nearby creek spills down its bed, making a happy creeky noise as it rushes by. There's a lazy sort of feeling in the air, the kind of feeling that makes you want to lie on your back and stare at the clouds forever.

I was also thinking about my high school friends today. Summer after senior year, playing fugitive every weekend. Dressing all in black, sneaking through fields and bushes and backyards, sometimes hiding under cars and behind garbage cans to avoid being seen. Bonfires and marshmallow roasting, secret circles, basketball, game nights, movies. We all just couldn't wait to grow up and move on, live our own lives, have new experiences.

I kind of miss the old ones sometimes. But life moves on, summer fades to fall, people grow up and move away, and everything changes. Life's just like that, I guess. Enjoy the moments while they last, because soon they'll be gone, and all that's left is a memory, locked deep inside your heart.

I love folk dance

THIS MUCH!

i love my team!

Not thirteen anymore

So today not one, not two, but three people confused me for a freshman.

Yesterday in class someone expressed surprise that I was a junior and almost 21 years old.

A week ago at a folk dance party I was talking to a boy who asked how I liked my first year of college. I told him this is my third year, I'm a junior. He was blown away. I asked him if he was a freshman, he said, "Yeah..." and not ten seconds later excused himself and disappeared into the crowd.

I don't know why this bothers me so much, but it really does. I hate looking years younger than I am. For some reason it makes me feel less capable and less confident. I've tried different hairstyles, different makeup, everything I can think of - but I still look young.

Last year I volunteered at a high school student language bowl on campus, and I got confused for one of the high school students. I was with a group of new friends from a class, and it was a super embarrassing experience. And every time it happens, I inevitably find myself in a bathroom less than half an hour later, staring desperately into the mirror wondering what I'm doing wrong. I really hate that feeling and hate criticizing myself when there's really nothing I can do about it, but the comments just give me a sick and frustrated feeling inside.

And if one more person follows up their mistake with, "Oh, but you'll be so glad to look young when you're forty!" I just might explode...

My source of power

I've been thinking a lot about my last post. And then I read this quote that goes right along with it:

"Recognize that there is a power greater than ours, that no matter how good a man is, he is not good enough, that no matter how wise he is, he is not wise enough, that no matter how strong he is, he is not strong enough for all of the things which he will face in life, and that there is a source of power to which he can go with the assurance that he will be listened to and that there will be a response." - President Gordon B. Hinckley

There you have it. Hold your head high, because somebody stronger is there on your side.