Rawlin's Rest Stop

Rawlin’s Rest Stop

                The windows are dirty; smear marks occupy the bottom sections near the tables. The tables are haloed by grubby little hand prints.  The restraunt portion of the gas station is empty, smelling of grease and hopelessness. Kathy the cashier stands over by static- filled monitors, her dull gaze following the words of her text messages. Her back is up against the counter so that she is facing the perfectly lined cigarettes. Rachel, a girl of seventeen, wonders if Kathy will sneak a smoke tonight. Rachel’s black kitchen shoes squeak against the gritty tile as she crosses to her counter which is adjacent to Kathy’s. Her hands have been cold all evening and the wet rag she carries doesn’t do any favors for that.

                “I’m going out.” Kathy’s raspy voice says to Rachel. Kathy proceeds to take a package of already opened cigarettes and pulls one out. But before she leaves, she turns back to grab a BIC lighter off the display on the front counter. From inside Rachel can see Kathy’s back pressed up against the window and the bright glow of her phone silhouetting her proofed up hair and the faint flicker of the burning orange cigarette.

                Kathy wasn’t always this depressed, but lately she had been going out for more smoke breaks. And those breaks tolled heavily on her, the wrinkles on her face growing deeper with each puff. Rachel remembers a time though when Kathy was happy. But since Paul left her Kathy’s eyeliner was always smudged into the creases of her eyelids.

                Rachel had those occasional day dreams; she probably shared them with Kathy. That Paul would walk into the station in one of his nice plaid button ups and beg for Kathy’s forgiveness. She knew better than anyone how badly Kathy was hurt. Rachel was familiar with Kathy’s brand of hurt. Rachel’s father left them when she was very young leaving her and her mother for some sleek twenty something year old.  He tried to stay involved in her life though, he sent her birthday cards filled with his love that appeared in fifty dollar bills. He went so far even to friend request her on Facebook. A virtual father- all he had ever been. Rachel wanted more than that though she wanted the real memories of a man that smelled like after-shave and man who chased the boogie man out of her closet. And she didn’t know how or when she’d ever get anyone to fill that void in her life. Rachel loosens her pony tail; her scalp pays dearly for the thick blonde hair she sports.

                Rachel’s fingers start to prune and her nails became soft and white in color. She seats herself in one of the clean benches resting her head in her hands. A healing welt runs up her arm, she got it last week when she splattered herself with the fryer grease.  Kathy is outside still burning time. Rachel stands up taking a slow pace to the kitchen. The hot lights sit over pre- made hamburgers preserving their warmth although no one would eat them tonight. The wilted lettuce sits in the ice bucket the green being leeched out by exposure. Rachel idly looks over the lit up menu and notes the splatter on the far corner running up the white tiles, most likely a spilled beverage.

                Rachel stops in front of the display of the family that runs this restraunt. Encased inside is a family portrait and the logo of their restraunt, it reads Rawlins in thick red cursive. Rachel went to school with the chain owner’s son Will. He was student body president her freshman year, she remembers him being very charismatic. Looking at the outdated picture she notices that Will looks far younger than she remembers. He has on a zipped up sweater that has a red horizontal line running across the chest. His hair is haphazardly spiked and his teeth hadn’t yet been tamed by braces. His family matches with their grey shirts and blue jeans. The back- drop is an old barn, and there’s snow on the ground. They look happy and rich. It seems to some point Rachel has always known Will was handsome even before he knew it.         

                The cow bell on the door clanks. Rachel’s pulse quickens as she hurries behind the counter she glances up to see Kathy follow the customer in. The policy is that there should always be someone behind the counter whenever a customer is present. Rachel marches into the back and washes her hands thoroughly in the scalding water.

                “Hello? Hello? Are you guys open?” a fellow about her age asks.

                “We are. May I take your order?” Rachel asks in her voice reserved for customers.

                “I’ll have a number 5 in a medium combo meal and can I get that to go?” He looks Rachel in the eyes. Rachel forgets what a number 5 combo is and has to check the menu herself.

                “The the umm total comes to $7.83.” Rachel calculates in her head making sure the sum is right. This boy makes her nervous.

                He hands her some torn bills and exact change. Rachel punches in the order and puts the money in the register then heads back to get his fries. Her hands are shaking as she dumps the fries into the little bag. She puts this and a premade burger into a larger bag then hands it to the customer. The customer takes it and begins to walk away but not before he turns around.

                “Don’t I get a drink or something?” His dark eyebrows are raised.

                “Oh yeah.” Rachel grabs him a cup.

                When he reaches for the cup their fingers brush, her fingers fail her as the corner of the cup hits the table with a thunk. He looks at her funny snatches the cup and heads over to the fountain drink dispenser. Once he’s out the door Rachel slumps over the laminate counter top. She can hear Kathy’s raspy laugh from the far end of the restraunt. If Rachel was close enough she’s sure she could smell the smoke still clinging to her skin.

                “Calm down hon, it’s all a matter of time.” Rachel doesn’t remember her coming back in. But can see that her velvet pink sweater top is speckled with rain drops.

                “I sure hope so.”

                “Hon, when you’re young everything seems like a failure. You’ll learn, and if you luck continues you’ll just keep on learning. Just like me.” Kathy smiles sadly her eyes glancing up at the gas station security monitor, “We’ll have a customer soon.”

A nice blue car sits under the bright lights of the gas station pump. When he finishes pumping he starts for the door. The face strikes Rachel as familiar.

                His ears look like they were pinched pink and he is probably the most cheerful thing in the room. He walks over to Kathy engaging her in some small talk he even manages to get squeak out one of her forty year old raspy laughs. He holds himself confidently the way only a student body president would.

                Rachel didn’t mean to but she stares. The last time Rachel heard about Will he was somewhere in Peru preaching things her mother didn’t care to learn. Will pays Kathy with a silver card their conversation flowing easily.  That’s when Will turns around and starts walking toward Rachel’s end of the restraunt. He stops right in front of the counter and sets his hands on the counter sliding them across it as if the cheap laminate counter top were marble. His eyes are appraising the menu flitting from one thing to the next. Rachel waits patiently for him to take his order.

                “Chicken strips huh? We’re really upgrading here, aren’t we?” His eyes meet Rachel’s they’re a warm brown. His curly brown hair is damp the wet ends sticking to his forehead.

                “Most definitely, we even put toys in the kids meal’s now.” Rachel says back easily.

                “Man, a lot has changed.” He says, this thoughtfully. “Please don’t tell me that’s the picture I think it is.” Will walks over to the display his hands leaving the counter with a swift push.

                “That display has been there for a while.” Rachel says smiling.

                “That’s a horrible picture!” Will laughs “Look at me I’m a dork!” he covers his face with his thumb as he sets it back into the display.

                “You don’t look like a dork. I actually like that picture.” Rachel says shyly, her hand strokes her blonde ponytail. Will looks at her for a moment trying to recognize her. She bites her peeling lips.

                “We went to high school together. You were in my psych class…” His eyes tighten on her. The thrill of recognition expands in her stomach like a helium balloon. Somewhere outside the sleet stops and the cowbell clanks as Kathy goes out for another smoke.  

My Grandmother's Hands

Grandma's fingers were long and thin. Her palms nearly square at the bottom. Her fingernails glistened while she worked the fine ridges housing the half moons. A layer of dirt accumulated beneath those sturdy nails of hers. Her hands were strong, hands that could cook, clean and butcher. The way she moved her hands was probably my favorite part, she'd use them to tell stories. Point out stars. Make us food. Collect corn pollen. She'd use those hands to pat our backs, her long hands going from my spine to my rib cage. Beautiful weathered hands that would rest on her knees. Hands that tied her head scarf on, hands that taught me how to tie my shoes. With both loops rather than starting with one. As I look at my hands now I see her hands in mine. The same square palm the same long thin fingers that rings just never seem to be small enough for. My hands, less weathered tell a different story. From a different time. My palms have been embedded with rocks, the scar left behind is a faint discolored splotch. My finger knuckles wrinkle like hers did though, the folds of skin thick and deep, soft to the touch. My knuckles are pointy, like mountains. Sharp to the touch, good for punching with. My thumbs are double jointed. Doing things they shouldn't but still do, they are the rebels on my hands. On my right thumb I have a callus, the same callus I began to notice in 5th grade, I got it from doing school work. That's when I partly discovered I liked to write. Also on my right hand on the finger closest to my pinky is the one I crushed while using the paper cutter in church. It's half moon is broken and blends in with the fleshy color of my nail. It will always grow a little shorter than all the others.

Falling and Healing

A few weeks ago I was gliding on pavement. I was on my long board and I felt a sense of oneness with the world. I felt fearless as the pavement rumbled beneath my wheels. The sunset splayed out before me like a dreamsicle on a hot July day. That day I decided to work on gaining more speed on my board. I was kicking harder and faster than ever before. After skating around the block I headed towards Forester Acres. In that moment on my board down the pathway I felt brave. Everything about longboarding made me feel brave, from the wind weaving through my hair to the speed I happened to be gaining. I felt almost unreal in that moment. Like it was almost too perfect. The sunset, my board, grass, and a contentment I just couldn't explain.

Then I remembered the path way lead into a parking lot. I felt my knees buckle. I began to try to execute my turn. But I just didn't have the confidence anymore. I was hurtling diagonally toward the left corner of the parking lot. I decided that I'd bail. I'd just run it off, I hadn't gotten hurt before so...I'd be fine. Then I remember the running and then hearing the sickening skid of my body against the pavement. My glasses skittered after my board. I just lied there shocked I fell off. I laughed it off a bit, convincing myself I wasn't too badly hurt. I didn't feel the pain while I was down. But when I got up I felt my knees ache and I felt the sting of my arm. Blood trickled down my hands and arms. When I looked at my palms I brushed off the gravel taking care to extract the embedded pebbles that had invaded my skin. I wasn't so brave and mighty anymore. After that I limped to my board and cautiously mounted it and rode back home. After my wreck I wasn't nearly as confident. I was scared, not so much of falling and getting scraped up but of the knowledge that it could happen again. 

This applies to pretty much everything in life, dating, school, sports..etc. At first you have all this confidence, the world is your oyster, then...you fall. Then you heal back up with scars that proclaim you've learned something in this crazy test called life. Recently I had the opportunity to go to an event where I got to meet up with a lot of my peers. I received criticism that I took really harshly. I went in confident and I felt like I failed when a few people said things that really struck me on a personal note. I had to slap up my wound and let it heal. Working through those emotions are important. Who wants a scarred up body without any stories to tell? I decided that I shouldn't be ashamed of what I didn't know but be excited about all I could learn. Falling of my board isn't where my long boarding career ended so why should it end anywhere else? I got back on my board and I rode it home. I learned better ways to slow down when I'm going too fast. I learned how to trust myself and my abilities better. Don't doubt yourself ever, because once you do...Satan swipes in and knocks you right off your feet.

And even if you fall you have the best healer in all the world who can wrap you up. Who can take away your pains and afflictions if you just act on faith.

My scar has a story. The relationships I've had with friends and family have a story. They all aren't good but just because I've fallen once or twice doesn't mean just give up. There's an entire plan written out specifically just for you. And when you skid off of it it doesn't mean you lay down and take it. You stand up brush yourself off and say, "Thank you for this lesson." No matter how much it hurt. No matter how large the scar is. Your body heals and so does your spirit. With every scar there is a lesson learned.

So joyride. Take this life that the Lord has given you and carve it up. Tell the stories that need to be told. And never be ashamed of something you've learned.

You Sure Are Neat,

-Stacie D. 

This is where it's at...

Accepting Me.

This week I had the opportunity to spend an entire weekend with my friends in a cabin at Bear Lake. I don't know if I've glorified Bear Lake in any way but you know it's pretty amazing when you go with your friends. In those moments with my friends I forget all of my insecurities. I forget that I think that I'm chubby. I forget that those things at home still bug me. I become wholesomely happily me. The thing is I haven't completely learned how to achieve that contentment all the time. A lot of the time I feel lost and a bit lonely. My thoughts are harassed with my list of imperfections/woes I do not have control over. But, when I'm with my friends I'm another person. I'm confident, funny, nice, sarcastic, intelligent...and so many other things. I feel ALIVE. I feel...loved. I feel accepted. I think that's something very important to me. To be accepted by others because honestly, sometimes I have a hard time accepting myself. I can love myself. I can do that...but accepting myself is a completely different thing. 

It seems in my particular moments where I exhibit my lowest self esteem is when I'm alone. With myself. That sounds funny but, there isn't anyone in the world you will spend as much time with as yourself. And in those moments my brain decides to replay a gag reel of my terribly most embarrassing moments. The times I made bad decisions. And, I just submit myself to it.

I realize that if I can only accept myself like others accept me I'll be happier. I obviously don't care if someone is chubby or sad or lonely or anything. I do not judge them based on that. Why should I judge myself based on that. I know there are many things I could improve on but...why should I feed my insecurties if they just suck the life out of me? A young girl's brain can be a hard place to navigate. I really do get lost in my own head. Which is somewhat ridiculous. I find that in my moments of my worst weakness I think of someone else who I think is better than I am, prettier, skinnier, richer, more fashionable and I compare until the cows come home. I realize that I will never be that girl. She has her own circumstances and I have mine. The difference is, in that moment I have defined myself by my circumstance. I have defined myself by that extra 10 pounds. By that zit on my face. By my lack of everything. Where does that lead? Nowhere.

"Compare where you are and where you wanna be and you'll get nowhere."- Sara Barrellies

There are so many other things I could possibly do other than beat myself up. I am loved beyond belief by a lot of people. I have a beautiful life. That I take for granted sometimes. But rather than beat myself up about the pitfalls I could see my opportunities to improve. The past isn't for improvements, it's already happened. The present is where your action takes place to shape your future. Improve the present, improve the future. I can magnify my calling. I could beat myself up all day trying to be like "her" or I could treat myself how he would treat me.

I know that there is a greater plan and purpose to life. I know that the lord is with me, matching my strides. He carries me when I am weak and he lifts me when I fall. I cannot be a vessel for negative things because evil to yourself never will be happiness. Accept myself, love the Lord, walk forward with faith and bright eyes darling. Accepting me has never been so easy with him by my side.

-Stacie D. 

I worry...

I'd like to go with the flow and not worry. Be the kind of person the current carries. I'm not though. Lately I feel like a rock. A few minutes ago I was eating charcoal bread on my bed. I was just staring at the light streaming in through my windows change colors. I was completely consumed with worry over something I don't have to worry for for a long time. There I was trapped in the undecided future and still sopping wet from the not too long ago past.

I seemed to have contentment in my pocket only a few months ago. It seemed everything was going my way. I had my best friends and I was happy. I knew what I wanted and I knew how to get it. Then suddenly, poof, my life was catapulted into a whole lot of crazy. I learned a few things that were good to learn, although I'd rather forget them. I've grown closer to a whole lot of people and in a way I'm better for all of that.

Then again I worry, I worry that I won't be as close with my friend who has just left. I worry that my new found friends at this point in the summer will leave come fall. I worry that the person whom I admire at this point won't admire me ever. I worry.

Yeah, I'm Stacie D. and I worry. All the time. Constantly. I guess that has a little to do with my growing up. Let's just say I was a very serious child. I think that today it's what I do. It's almost a horrible talent of mine. If you don't worry about it Stacie will. And you know what I know? I don't have to worry. You don't have to worry so hard. Because someone will always be waiting to hear your worries. No matter how silly, trivial, awkward, sad, funny, etc...Heavenly Father cares when I worry. He stills my worried soul and make things easier for me to manage. Not always right away, but he does. I know he waited up last night for me. After reading my scriptures after brushing my teeth, after all the random cell phone checks. He waited up to hear my worries.

And you know what? He understands. He knows me. He knows me better than I know myself. And he listens. And quietly he teaches me. When I pray I feel that stillness he is listening. Hearing. That comforts me enough to go to bed. The person who knows everything about everything and eternity listens to me.

Don't worry kids.
Pray.
Worried hearts get tired....so pray...feverently...intently...lovingly.

You Sure Are Neat!

Stacie D.

Missionary Rap

Hey returned missionary,

 Dishing the sacrament as a worthy disciple,  I can see you’ve got your hands full.

I can understand that I can get the facts.  You just got back. You’re a little out of sync maybe this ain’t your scene just yet, I could probably bet. But nevertheless I’ll begin….

When I see you I get a little breathless

Some say I get a little more than reckless

I think its cuz’ you’ve got everything on my checklist

I’ve been dreaming about someone like you since I was a beehive

But now I can actually understand Nephi

I noticed we just had a moment, capture it and hold it-kodak

Check out our ward bulletin it’s no coincidence you’re in all the pictures but one

You’re looking at me now like you don’t know what hit cha’

I’m not playing in the little leagues anymore I’m planning on being the champion.  

My rhyme may be a silly, nevertheless it’s what I’m feelin’ what I’m expressing is more than pressing

Am I impressin yet? I am confessing the simplicities of these minor brain glitches that’ve got me racing to keep pace with ya up to missionary prep.

You have me erasing more than I underline, you’ve got me shakin by the spirit you’ve invited into this lesson of mine Op, looks like we have a linger longer another reason to make this rap a little longer.

I never thought I’d meet anyone in this line but you’ve got me reciting scriptures during my free time.

RM, find some time in your busy day to have a reason to come my way. Gather up your courage and look through the ward directory you’ll find a nice picture of me, my number is below…oh come on boy I don’t think you need a billboard I’m already in your ward!

You’ve gone and served so this fine rhyme is to commemorate all the time you’ve gone and located. To spread the word of the gospel, even though some of the people were less than hospitable.  I won’t play the fool you are the coolest of cool.  Thanks for serving you definitely are deserving.

Come on take a leap of faith

Pack up your scriptures boy…cuz I think you’ve got a date

WORD.

Sisters of the Fields

 * Lillian *

Lillian looked at the faces beside hers in the picture. They were all beautiful. Lillian's lips spread into a still small smile. Searching the faces of Nichelle and Rachel, Lillian could see the best within herself. The person that was brought out of her within their company was kind, lovely, sweet, funny and so much more. And somewhere between where the blue sky met lush grass, Lillian truly found herself. They had spent that summer going on grand adventures. Venturing through unknown property which usually involved trespassing and spending late nights on a trampoline beneath the stars, Lillian never thought those days would end. To sum their summer up it was more than just the sweet taste of a mango snow cone. It was endless green fields, music you could dance to, and the smell of campfire clinging to every article of clothing. It was the summer a sisterhood was born.
Lillian's smile wavered just a bit. It seemed only a summer ago when they were this close. Now nearly three years later she had never felt so lost and lonely. Currently on summer break after attending her second year of college Lillian had buried herself into a rigorous study habit. Since school was over Lillian couldn't find too much to do. She had a book at her feet, a hard backed version of Pride and Prejudice. The cover was that of older times, but the pages remained untouched.

Lillian sighed in defeat. She looked over her room, clothing scattered all about the floor. So much to clean up but she lacked the ambition to do so. So she just stared at everything...her bookshelves, the paintings on her walls, her long forgotten craft projects. Her room was just so busy with everything she loved. Although it felt full Lillian felt empty. She felt like her discarded craft projects. Dusty and forgotten. Lillian's dresser was filled with random odds and ends, she never could keep it quite organized. There she saw it. The letter. Sloppily written on the white envelope was her address. The hand had written it in permanent marker the smear at the end showed that it was hastily written.

Elder Mitchell James. Lillian swallowed the lump in her throat. Anxiously she shut the open door to her room, she reached over to her aqua desk, snatching a pen. She pulled out an old competition notebook filled with doodles opening up to the first blank page.

Dear Mitch, she began. Crossing out the letters she she tore out the pages balled them up and flung them at the garbage can. The TINK of a miss sounded in her ears. She started again. Dear Elder James...she stared at her long skinny letters. Her heart thudded again. As she began to write about all that had happened, a letter 4 months late, lost in the mail troubled her as she penned the very end of her letter.

Love,

Lillian Dupree

She stared at the word love. She had taken too much care to write it. She hoped he wouldn't be able to tell. They didn't have that kind of relationship before, maybe he'd just assume that that's just how she signed her letters. She swallowed hard as she licked the envelope, sealing it closed. Placing a stamp neatly on the corner, thumbing it down, Lillian prayed that it'd get to him in time.

Palms sweating she raced out to her mailbox. She looked down the street to his home, his mother wasn't home. She shoved the letter into the mailbox closing the door to the box roughly. With a flick of her finger she lifted the little red flag. Panicking a bit, she hoped the mail woman or man wouldn't judge her. What if Mitch's mom could see the flag from her house? Surely they'd know it was her. Lillian began the walk back to her home. Her blue rock sided home brought comfort to Lillian's beating heart. A breeze ruffled her hair a bit and like the first dandelion of the spring, Lillian felt joy popping up in her stomach. Behind closed eyelids she saw bursts of yellow.

To be continued... 
 

Single's Ward Adventures

As my Single's Ward friends may know it's a tough place. Especially in a home ward. You find yourself in weird situations and...well sometimes it's just a...experience. So here are a few pictures that I feel like describe the Single's Ward: Disney style!

At first you're super eager to go. The anticipation is killing you!

 

 

You just can't wait to be "Part of Their World"

 

You get ready excited for that morning! 

 

And...the first guys you see are...already calling dibs.

 And you're like...

 

But then...you see a really cute guy.

Until you see him sitting in the pew in-front of you.

You don't let that get you down though...because at least your friends are hitting it off!

 

 

At dances they're like this....

And your other friends are getting ready to serve missions

 

You begin to think things like 

 

 

And MY PRINCE AIN'T NEVER GOING TO COME!

Then a few months pass and you get used to it.. you're making great friends...

There's soon hope though! Because then your Ward gets some Returned missionaries! And they are OH SO HANDSOME! They are kind and out going and hey, they have the best hand shakes! 

 

But then you realize...some are really awkward! :(

And then suddenly your friends are getting married. 

 

And leaving on their missions and your like...

  

Suddenly dating begins to feel a lot like this...

 

And soon... like this...

BUT THEN...YOU MEET THIS GUY! AT A LINGER LONGER!

AND YOUR LIKE...

 

And he gets along with everyone!

 Oh and he's musically talented!

And you begin to wonder...IS HE THE ONE?! 

 And you're meeting his parents...

and soon its...

 

Hahah you'll get there eventually! 

 

Growing Pains!

Do you ever have those moments where you sit back and think...whoa what? I just had a meeting with my academic adviser. I watched her figure out my life in 2 seconds flat. Right before my eyes she had my academic life planned for the next 5 semesters. I felt panic seep into my bones. The schedule looked overwhelming, frustrating, and complicated. I began reconsidering my major. Is Creative Writing what I should be going into? Can I do that? Could I seriously make it in this competitive world we live in? I began doubting my talents and abilities.


These are the growing pains of my life. Ever since I started going to college, attending the singles ward, and basically figuring out life on my own. I've felt uncomfortable. Don't get me wrong, I'm not uncomfortable every single day. Collectively though, the past two years have been extremely hard. I feel like my life is in this limbo state where I just want to wake up and be like "HEY I'M DONE PLAYING INCEPTION!" Unrealistically, I just want to wake up to a perfect reality. I want to wake up to a point in my life where I will be content. Whether that be when Brianne comes home from her mission or when I'm married with little children of my own. 

That's when my perfect little reality is shattered. I'll still have challenges then. I'll still have my own trials. I will still struggle with things, meaning things won't be completely solved. The "problems" I am dealing with now may seem like blinks in time to me in the future. Right now, Brianne, my best friend/ confidant, has been in Toronto Canada serving the Lord as a missionary for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. http://mormon.org/ Those two months have made me grow exponentially! I have molded into my own person. I'm learning to make new friends, seize opportunities, and learn to be on my own. I have connected with people I would have never thought I would connect with. 

The Lord has your life schedule and you know you gotta be patient with it because he's been patient with you. Have faith and put it in his hands and he will never lead you astray. And in moments of darkness and doubt know that those feelings are not his influence but the adversary's. We are not made to be perfect but we are perfected within him. He will be the best adviser on your life, he knows the ins and outs of this system. He knows your potential and your value as a son or daughter of god.


I'm experiencing growing pains. Seriously though, who ever learned anything worth while comfortably? I am thankful for my challenges, it's my opportunity to learn and to grow. Thankfully, I won't be doing this alone. I have the most patient tutor in the history of the world. I am blessed to be his student. He knows my circumstances and will never turn a blind eye. I have no reason to be afraid.

-Stacie D. 

You Sure Are Neat! 

Good luck Growing! You are not alone! 

 
 

Confrence Gems

Water colored by yours truly :)

 Even in a darkening world, we as Latter-day Saints may sing with joy, knowing that the powers of heaven are with God’s Church and people. We may rejoice in the knowledge that a beautiful morning lies ahead—the dawn of the millennial day, when the Son of God shall rise in the East and reign again on the earth.- Elder Bruce D. Porter

Changes

I hate change I hate everything about it. It makes things less fun it's a hassle it has to do with the future and with the past conflicting. Bah, you know it's also good though, because who's ever changed while being comfortable? Who has ever done anything worthwhile without any growing pains? I sure haven't! I know a lot, I do, not about what everyone else may expect me to know about. I know that the Lord gives us trials because they make us uncomfortable. And no he doesn't just like watching us squirm. He loves us and sometimes we have to be uncomfortable to figure out who and what we are.
I can name plenty of things that are uncomfortable and I'm well sure you could too!

Here are a few:

• DATING. HATE IT.
• Friends leaving on missions
• School
• Expections of yourself
•  Life

Those are only like five, there are so many more things that make us uncomfortable, we can choose to be defined by the things that make us uncomfortable or we can choose to be  defined by our actions in those situations.

The Lord loves us.

Sometimes we just gotta open our eyes