It's Better To Look Up...

I don't know who this post is for.  Maybe it's just for me.

Today, a mother in our ward passed away leaving behind four children and no father.

I have a couple of friends who are fighting some hard battles right now.

All around me, I see hurt.  And pain. And fear. And turmoil. And tears.

And the worst part?

I can't fix it.

I am a fixer.

Whatever it is.  I fix it.

I bake it, I hug it, I love it, I gift it, I visit it, I bring it dinner, I babysit it, I clean it, I give it rides...

I do everything in MY POWER to fix it and make it better.

I can't fix this.

I can't undo it.

I can't even make it remotely more pleasant and easy.

I have cried all day.

I've been angry all day.

Angry at how unfair the world is.

Angry that good people are suffering and crying for help.

Angry that bad things happen to good people.

Angry that choices of others are affecting these people.

Crying for four children who are without a family.

Crying for their loss, for their fear, for their instability.

I've found myself racking my brain to the point that I have a headache trying to fix it.

Trying to fix their loss, trying to fix the trials and struggles of my friends.

And I can't.

I.

Feel.

Powerless.

Everyday, I see a struggling world, trying to make it through another day, trying to put on a cheerful face, trying to just try. 

I find myself looking around, looking side to side, looking down...and seeing the same stupid things.

Sadness, hurt, loneliness, pain, frustration, hopelessness, and so much more.

I recalled a quote by President Thomas S. Monson that hit the spot today.

"Remember, it is better to look up."

And it hit me.  

I'm looking the wrong way.

I can't fix it, but I know Someone who can.

Our Heavenly Father CAN fix it.  Sometimes, He chooses not to.

Sometimes, He lets the storm rage...but He will always comfort His child if we just ask.

I am grateful for my Father in Heaven and for His wisdom and His grace and His love.

So, to end...I'll leave you with this.

A Journey of a Thousand Miles...Or Pounds

Greetings!

For those of you that don't really know me, let's just get this out of the way.

I'm a chubby girl.

My body and I have a love/hate relationship.

I've never been skinny.

Fit, maybe.

Skinny, no.

I never will be.

I accept that.

However-I want to be HEALTHY.

So, my husband and I decided to join a weight loss challenge. I thought this was great.  I'd done it before and I knew that with him on my side, I would ultimately succeed.

So, now we're three weeks in.

I am working my tail off.  Literally.

I am counting every calorie that I put in my mouth. Including chewing gum.

I work out until I am sore.

I haven't had a soda for TWO DAYS. (that's a long freaking time.)

I've lost 6 pounds.

He's lost 25.

Argh.

Let's just say that I'm flustered.  Incredibly flustered.

I almost didn't work out this morning because I was lying in bed thinking...what's the point? It's not like it does a lot of good.  So, I laid there, scratching Lily-my cat-and letting my mind wander, which I've found is never safe.

And I recalled something that happened quite some time ago.

A little insight...

I might seem like a tough girl, a Regina George type, to some.  But, even us Reginas get our feelings hurt when someone is unkind to us. We don't always show it, but we remember it and we beat ourselves up for it for the rest of our lives because we feel like we've let someone down. And most times...that someone is the girl looking right back at us in the mirror.

I won't elaborate because it's not necessary.  I just remember feeling so, so worthless and wanting to just sit down and flip off the world and quit.  In fact, I remember getting in the shower later that night and bawling my eyes out-(in the shower so that no one could see or hear me.)

I simply wasn't good enough or fit enough.  I let myself down.  I let myself believe that I was nothing. I fell right into the trap.

So, when someone asked me today why I wanted to lose weight-I tried to be sweet and coy and even funny with my response when in all reality, the thought running through my mind was "because that will never, ever happen to me again. I will not let it."

I will never, never let that happen again.  I will never allow myself to be treated like that or to feel like I'm not good enough.  Ever.

So, I pulled my chubby buns out of bed and decided to kick box my way into Thursday.

Why?

Because I'm not worthless.  Because I'm not a straggler.  Because I'm not a follower.  

Because I AM worth it.  Because I AM a leader. Because I DESERVE better.

So, 6 pounds is a success. That's 6 pounds less that I have to carry on my shoulders...or more accurately, my backside. :) 

It's 6 pounds of self doubt, fear, guilt, failure and worthlessness.  

And maybe 1 Snickers bar that I ate when I was sad.

Goodbye 6 pounds.

Fare thee well.

Don't ever come back.

I honestly never want to see you again.

Also, to the people involved in this experience, thank you.  

I appreciate your example.

Thank you for inspiring me to be better and healthier and more kind than you ever were to me.

Now, off to bed so that I can kick box the trash out of another 6 pounds again tomorrow.

Here. We. Go.

Dear Blank Please Blank...Part 3.

Dear Cat,
Seriously.  Stop peeing on things when you're mad at me.  I don't go to the bathroom on your stuff when I'm mad at you.

Dear Husband,
Please stop being so adorable.  I already love you more than anything.

Dear Cupcakes, 
Stop. Existing. Right now.

Dear Dr. Pepper,
I miss you.

Dear Primary Kids,
Stop being so cute.  I'm trying not to get attached to you .

Dear Orange Cat, 
Please go away.  I'm finding it quite hard not to adopt you, too.

Dear Survivor,
Is it too much to ask that my favorite survivor win? Ever?

Dear Luke Bryan,
Hey.

Dear Deer, 
(just wanted to say that...)

Dear Fat Cells, 
Please shrink and disappear.  I hate you.

Dear Chocolate,
Please stop being so many calories.

Dear Yankees, (the baseball kind)
Please stop getting hurt.

Dear Football Season,
Hurry the heck up.  No please about it.  Just get here already!

Dear People Having Yard Sales,
Please stop selling cool junk.  I already have enough...

The Ugly Duckling

Take a minute..give it a watch.  Trust me on this one.

Don't Stop...Believing...

(you're singing that song in your head right now, aren't you?)

However, this post is not about the fabulousness and classicness of the band Journey.

Sometimes, life is hard.

Sometimes we all have trials that we don't understand.

Trust.  Believe.

Enough said.

(have i told you all how much I LOVE General Conference?)

Late Night Musings of a Slightly Tortured Soul

My heart hurts today.  For so many reasons.
It's been a hard week.
I find myself really looking forward to General Conference tomorrow...
(for those of you that don't know what that is...go to www.lds.org)
I feel ashamed to tell you that I always listen to conference, but I don't always internalize it like I suppose I should.  I suppose I've never much applied it to my life all that much.  I listen, I learn, but I don't always DO.
And now, I find myself craving some comfort and guidance from God's prophets on the earth today.
I need to be uplifted, to be reminded of the things in this universe that are good and right, to know that I am a daughter of God, to remember that He loves me.
I'm going to be upfront with you and say that I've been experiencing one of those stormy seasons lately.  Much of it is self inflicted-meaning that I've made a bad choices in who I've trusted, in who I've befriended, in who I thought I was.
In day to day life, each of us is seeking acceptance and happiness and worldly wealth. And by doing this, we are pulled down from what we actually believe to gain that acceptance.  We start making exceptions and start rationalizing things that are wrong.
We forget that there is something and someone much more important.
We often need reminded that the opinions of the world are not what we should be seeking.  We don't need acceptance or "friendship" (and I use that term incredibly loosely...) from people who don't value us or the things that we hold sacred like kindness and honesty.
And still, not going to lie, I'm torn.
I don't throw things like what I thought was friendship away easily, but when you've been bitten numerous times and you've watched this person tear apart things that you believe in and people that you love, it's hard to hold onto.  I've often heard that some people come into your life as blessings and some come into your life as lessons....which leads me to think that I am a slow learner.  I hate to hurt others.  I hate to be mean.  I hate confrontation.  I hate tension. And yet, I hate feeling worthless.
So, what's more important? My self worth? Or someone else's? We are always taught to love thy neighbor. But...can we love them from afar?  What if the continual effort that you put forth is unhealthy?  What if it does nothing but bring you down?  Then is it okay not to love your neighbor, throw your hands up in the air and say Well! I tried... ?  I highly doubt it.  Maybe the answer is to be the best me that I can be and do my best to live a good, righteous life.
I suppose what I'd better do instead of blogging and listening forlornly to Ed Sheeran, is go hit my knees and figure this out.  Or better yet, pray for guidance and inspiration and comfort and let Him figure it out.
I am grateful for my Heavenly Father and for His divine plan for each of us.  I am grateful for my blessings and my lessons.
And last, but not least, I'm glad that I'm His child and that He loves me...no matter what.

What If?

I'm a hypothetical kind of gal.
I like to wonder.
I like to imagine.
Which leads to this.
Yesterday, I was feeling sort of bad for myself.  Pity party for one, you might say.
I was looking at myself and wondering "What have I done with my life?  Who will remember me when I'm gone?  Who will care?  Who will want to know about me? Oh, that's right...I have no kids.  No lineage.  The buck stops here."
So, I took my sad, sorry, pathetic self home and tried to decide what to do about dinner.
As I was getting it ready, my doorbell rang.
Lo and behold, there stood my neighbor kids from across the street.
They came to bring "Brother Jennings" and I cupcakes that they made.
(a little background...these kids go to primary.  we have taught them with the missionaries in our home.  they ride to church with me on occasion and almost always sit with us.)
As I hugged them goodbye, the littlest one said "I wuv you, Sither Jennings!"
And I began to play the "What If?" game...
What if.....
I don't have children for a reason?
What if...
I actually had my own children?
What if...
Heavenly Father actually knows what He's doing?

I think I know myself pretty well.  I'm pretty positive that my nieces and nephews are the cutest children to EVER walk the face of the earth.  I know that my cats are smarter and prettier and funnier than anyone else's...and my husband, well, he hung the moon.

It makes me wonder if I don't have children because I'm needed elsewhere.  If I had my own children, I wouldn't like anyone else's child.  At all. Because, let's be honest.  We all know my kids would be AMAZING.
How  would it be possible for me to love my primary kids like my own?  To stand up for them?  To worry about them? To be concerned about their future, about their worthiness, about their identity, about their feelings?
It wouldn't.
For some reason, they need ME.  They need all of me.  They need me to be a primary mom.  To bust their chops when they screw up.  To love them.  To teach them.  To make them my first priority.
Isn't it wonderful that Heavenly Father has this huge master plan that we can't understand all at once?  Isn't it wonderful that He knows each of us?  He knows who I am.  He knows my strengths, my weaknesses, my struggles and my triumphs.  I am grateful that He knows me. I am grateful that He gave me 60 kids instead of 5.  I am grateful that He loves me and can give me what I need everyday.  I am grateful for my calling.  I am grateful for my testimony.  I am grateful for a loving Heavenly Father who keeps His eye on little, old me.