One of the Ninety and Nine...

To preface today's post I would like to start off by saying that I love Michael McLean.

I remember being eleven years old and attending The Forgotten Carols with my Achievement Day's group. 

Looking back, that was a defining moment in my life. 

Listening to the music as I sat in a dark theatre one cold winter's night I felt something that previous to that moment I had felt before but until then had never recognized. 

It was the Holy Ghost. 

These Forgotten Carols bore testimony of Christ's divinity.

And it was then that the Holy Ghost filled me with warmth and peace.

Such that I began to cry.

I have had many experiences with the Spirit since then.

Some stronger than what I felt that day. 

And some that have felt comfortably similar to that moment years ago. 

But what I really am trying to say is that I love Michael McLean for being in touch with the Spirit such that he wrote the Forgotten Carols of Christmas, the tales of others who found their lives intersected that of the Savior and through this bore testimony of Him. 

Now I know it was the Spirit that I felt that day.

But every time I hear the soundtrack of that musical I am reminded of how the Spirit felt and of how I recognized in that moment that I could never deny how I felt. 

Fast forward to today and I still love Michael McLean.

As the years passed I was introduced to other songs he wrote, and I have a playlist of my favourites.

Some of these favourites include "You're Not Alone", "Celebrating the Light", "Safe Harbours", "Stay With Me", and especially "Hold On, The Light Will Come".

But today I want to write about a song that often plays in the background of my mind. 

It is called "Ninety and Nine".

Alright, so listen to this...

And then continue to read, ok?

Alright.

I need to express how much I LOVE this song. 

I am one of the ninety and nine. 

And I'm not perfect but basically I'm doing fine. 

I have not lost my way, I have not gone astray. 

I'm just one of the ninety and nine. 

The feelings captured in this song are ones that have echoed within me.

I am here in the heart of the fold.

I'm not mindless but I try to do as I'm told. 

I'm not tempted to run and become the lost one.

I am here in the heart of the fold.

One recurring criticism I hear of the members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is that we are sheep, blindly following our leaders.

That we are conformists.

That as a collective group numbering over 15 million people, we are devoid of individual identities.

Instead we all dress the same. 

We talk the same.

We think the same. 

This isn't a criticism of those criticizing by the way.

The LDS Church has worked to eliminate that stereotype through their I'm A Mormon campaign. 

But as a member of the LDS Church I admit to feeling that way. 

That there is a certain way I should dress and act and live my life.

And over the years I have realized that I am me. 

I have a unique personality and have the gifts and talents I do for a reason, and who I am is who my Heavenly Father wants me to be. 

So I live by the rules in faith, knowing I won't always understand, but studying and pondering and putting in the work necessary to understand. 

And I am confident in my place. 

So why is my shepherd coming this way towards me?

He's holding his arms out and he's calling my name.

Yes he's calling my name!

But how, how can this be?

These lines remind me of the Atonement.

So often people view the atonement as simply a piece of repentance.

That it is only to be used when one has lost their way and made mistakes. 

But the atonement is so much more than that.
The atonement is also comfort and peace.
When Jesus Christ carried out the Atonement He took upon Him all the sins, sorrows and sufferings of everyone who has ever lived, is currently living, or will live. 

Because of that He is there and will help us bear our burdens. 

These lyrics, I feel, encompass that part of the atonement. 

Where Christ didn't suffer just for our sins, where His love is only extended to those who need help.

But His love is for everyone always.

I'm just one of the ninety and nine.

I have stumbled and fallen, but I've kept in line.

I'm not one he must seek; I'm not all that unique.

I'm just one of the ninety and nine. 

I don't know if anyone else has ever felt this way, but knowing of all the horrible things happening in the world, I feel that my problems and concerns are too miniscule to even mention. 

I do my best to deal with what I can and survive.

I pray and read my scriptures and as silly and wrong as this is, I don't ask for help.

Until the moment I can no longer bear the burdens I buckle under, I refuse to ask for help. 

Not fully understanding the Savior's Atonement, I foolishly think that there are others who need that love and peace and to have their burdens lifted more than I do.

And so I don't ask.

I keep in line. 

And quietly stumble under the load I carry. 

So why is my shepherd treating me like a lost lamb?

He's searching to find me,

And he's holding me now, yes, he's holding me now.

And teaching me who I am. 

But in the moments when I need Him most,

And when I finally turn from the pride that has been keeping me from my knees and pray, 

He is there.

Always. 

And in those moments I am overwhelmed with love and peace.

The love that would encompass the lamb that has just been found by its shepherd. 

In those moments I am kindly chastened and reminded that He is always there for me.

That I need not wait until I have fallen to ask Him for help. 

So why am I feeling like I'm the only one here?

It's like I'm his favourite,

And he takes me aside, and he sweetly confides, 

These remarkable words in my ear.

Ok, are you ready for the best part of this song?

You are one of the ninety and nine.

Have you any idea how brightly you shine?
You are safe in this fold and it's time you are told,

That I know where you've been so I know where you'll be

Because all of your life you've been following me

You are more than just one of the sands of the sea

Or just one of the ninety and nine. 

I don't know if you need to take a moment after reading that to just let it sink in.

But I do. 

Have you ANY idea how brightly you shine?
Do you know how much you are loved?

Do you?

There is a term called "Christlike love," and it means to love fully and unconditionally. 

That is the love the shepherd has for his flock. 

As one who has lived her whole life as a member of the LDS church 

I have felt secure in my spot there.

I am safe. 

I am content. 

I am not without challenges or heartaches but I am safe. 

But in that line that says, 

I know where you've been so I know where you'll be

Because all of your life you've been following me.

In that line I find greater security and happiness than I have ever felt previous. 

I have accepted the callings I have been offered.

I attended Young Women's and now attend Relief Society.

I serve and I live my life within the fold.

And that is exactly where my Savior knows to look for me. 

Because I am where I am supposed to be. 

And that extends beyond being in the heart of the fold.

That is in my eternal progress.

That is in the desires of my heart. 

That is cemented in the fact that I know who I am.

And because of that knowledge I know where I should be, and so I am there. 

You are mine. 

You are mine. 

You are mine. 

You are mine. 

So who am I?
I am His.
I am a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. 

I'm trying to be like Jesus. 

And my deepest desire is to follow His example and return to live with Him someday. 

So who am I?

I am one of the ninety and nine. 

Long time coming....

Hi.

It has been a while since I've really posted anything and trust me it's not for lack of trying. 

I have probably ten drafts saved.

And have spent countless hours staring at a blank screen.

Thinking of what I wanted to say. 

I've felt so many things I wanted to say.

But I couldn't seem to put it into words.

And I'm sure there is more I need to say then this. 

But for today... This is where I am at.

First. 

I'd like you to listen to this song while you read. 

Or before.

Whatever suits you...

                    

I guess I don't know where to start.

But I guess I will just write and hope that what I feel will come out.

I live by faith.

My faith is a critical component of who I am. 

It defines me.

It has shaped me into who I am.

And I know that it is shaping me into the woman I want to be.

I struggle a lot though.

As ridiculous as this may sound, I always know but I don't always believe.

It's hard to believe there is more than what is right in front of me.

It's hard to believe that for someone as flawed as I am there is always unconditional love.

It's hard to believe that I have a Savior who suffered in Gethsemane and took upon Him all the sins and sufferings of everyone who has ever and will ever live, died upon the cross and was resurrected so that I may live. 

It's hard to believe that I can be with my family forever.

It's hard to believe in eternity.

 But how could I doubt?

When I know that there is so much more than what I can see.

When I know that I am loved by a family I can't remember, yet remembers and knows me.

When history tells of, and scriptures preach of a Messiah, a Savior, a Redeemer, who would and did atone for my sins, and felt my pain so that in my darkest moments I would never be alone. 

When I look at my family and just know that these people are bound to me deeper than simply shared DNA, but are bound to me far longer than a till death do you part or for the course of my earthly life.

When I realize that this can't be it.

That there must be more.

That there in fact is more.

And you know what?

I'm sure some readers are ready to stop reading at this point.

Are probably scoffing and rolling their eyes at this mormon nonsense.

That no one can "know" anything of the sort.

And that is ok.

Maybe I am totally and completely delusional and wrong and once I die that is it.

But I will die having treated people in the way I felt was best.

I will die having served and improved my little part of the world.

And I will die at peace, having no qualms about what lies beyond, but will go calmly and happily. 

I am fine with that. 

But I do believe.

And I know.

Which makes life so much easier for me.

Not easier in that I don't have trials and struggles and heartache.

Because I do.

But easier in that I can see that there is a purpose to everything. 

Whether it leads me to new opportunities, or teaches me something I previously didn't understand, or simply is a test to grow my faith, there is a purpose for the pain. 

And I need that. 

And I know that I have Heavenly Parents who love me. 

And a whole family on the other side who have lived and struggled and endured and are now cheering for me and are there for me, even though I can't see them.

I know that my life has a purpose. 

Which I guess is where I am getting with this post. 

And also how this song ties into everything. 

Sorry for the ramble/not ramble of earlier. 

Here is where I am getting to. 

By believing that God has a plan for me I also believe that this plan will come to pass in His timing. 

That to truly be happy I need to trust Him. 

That for the greatest happiness I need to rely on His plan and its timing in my life.

Doing the right thing at the right time at the right place.

I should also mention this doesn't mean I sit around waiting. 

I am not a damsel in distress.

I have a brain.
I have logic.

I have talents and ambitions and dreams.

And my Heavenly Father knows that. 

And a lot of those talents are gifts from Him. 

He wants me to live and do what I can with what I have.

But that doesn't mean I live without His guidance.

I live.

I make plans.

I follow through on those plans.
But I also stay in contact and let Him know how I am feeling, what my fears are and ask if I'm doing what I should.

It's part trust that He will make sure I'm on the right path,

Part faith that He won't let me screw up too bad before straightening me out,

and part just communicating with my Heavenly Father like I do with my earthly father and asking for guidance and direction, knowing that He knows me better than I know myself at times. 

And He does.

He knows a me that I don't remember.

A me that stood up for His plan a lifetime ago. 

A me that fought for what I believed.

A me that was valiant. 

A me that wanted this body I have so badly that she would risk all she had for it.

A me that wanted to prove herself and prove her faith. 

A me that rejoices every time I take a step forward in the gospel and as my testimony grows. 

And He loves me.

And He lets me move forward without directing my every move.

But is there to point me in His direction.

Leading me back to Him.

What I am trying to say with this is I am waiting. 

A good waiting.
I am waiting for direction on my next step.

I have been led so many times in my life.

Led to things that I didn't want at times, but ended up making me so happy. 

And I have made choices that have led me to the path I am on now. 

A path I love. 

There is still so much more ahead of me. 

So many things I will be lead to or am being lead to. 

And still some of my greatest choices lie ahead of me. 

So while I am waiting, I am waiting with faith.

I am serving while I wait. 

I am learning while I wait.

I am growing while I wait. 

In the church we have a name for this waiting.

It's called enduring to the end. 

Giving a talk

So, in my faith members of the congregation give "talks" each Sunday during our Sacrament meeting.  Instead of having a pastor or other leader speak each week we have the individual members get up and speak on a pre-assigned topic.

This Sunday I am in California and have been asked by my Granddad, who is a "high councillor" which basically means a man who has served in the church as a bishop or in the bishopric ( similar to a pastor or equivalent except it is an appointed position that is volunteer, so not paid, normally for five years but could be longer or shorter) over a ward (a group of church members who all attend meetings together as determined by their geographic location) and is now a member of the stake council (a stake is a group of wards) and is assigned to a specific ward for a while. So the ward he is over is his home ward, and my sister and I have been asked to speak tomorrow. 

I thought I would share my talk here.

Also, feel free to visit mormon.org or lds.org, or message me if you have any questions. :)

Blessings of the Temple Talk

Hello Brothers and Sisters, I am grateful for the opportunity I have to talk to you today. 

My name is Emma Atwood, I am Brother Parkin’s granddaughter from Canada.

I was asked today to speak on the talk given by President Monson this past conference entitled, “Blessings of the Temple.”

I had the opportunity, along with my family and grandfather to attend General Conference in Salt Lake City and we were in the audience when this talk was given.

I remember as Pres. Monson announced the new temples that would be built in the Ivory Coast, Thailand and Haiti, and the excitement that filled the room as we all marveled at the progress of the church such that the gospel has not only reached such foreign locations but has thrived there enough to constitute the building of these temples.

President Monson spoke of the marvelous blessings in store for the faithful members in both these areas of newly announced temples and wherever temples are located throughout the world. He also spoke of the desire of the First Presidency that as many members as possible have an opportunity to attend the temple without great sacrifices of time and resources.

That phrase has taken on new meaning for me in the past year. I grew up in Cardston, Alberta, Canada where I lived a block away from the temple.

 My life revolved around the Cardston temple. As I was growing up my mom worked as the cafeteria manager there. I walked across the lawn of the temple every day on my way to school. I had Sunday School on the temple lawn every summer as far back as I can remember.

 In high school the temple literally was the center of my life as my high school was on one side of the temple, my seminary building on another side, the church building that housed my ward was on another side, and I lived a block down on the other side.

Even with the temple at the center of everything, I still took it for granted. I didn’t understand not only how blessed I was to have the temple as a part of my daily life, but also the impact the temple had on me. Seeing it every day was a constant reminder of the covenants I made at baptism and of my decision to one day be endowed and sealed there.

This past year I went off to attend school at Southern Virginia University.

It is an amazing school, one I am very excited to return to in a few weeks. As a predominately LDS school I am surrounded by people who share my faith and with whom I can discuss my beliefs on a daily basis.

Even in such an amazing environment I was startled as my first semester progressed and I could feel a palpable difference of spirituality in my life.

That difference was the temple.

Going to a school with the temple now 3 hours away was a change I was not prepared for and did not expect to be as affected by as I was.

However, the longer I went without attending the temple the harder life seemed to get.

 At first it seemed such a difficult thing to give up a day to spend 6 hours travelling to and from the temple, most likely with people I didn’t know very well.

But as I recognized that what was missing was the temple in my life, I realized that the sacrifice of time and resources, of comfort, of spending money on gas and food, of not spending that time studying, was not truly a sacrifice at all, but would be an investment that would bless me in all aspects of my life.

And it truly was.

In spite of what was happening in my life I was able to find peace through attending the temple.

The Savior said in John 14:27, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give unto you, not as the world giveth, give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.”

As the Savior said, the peace I needed was not found in any worldly thing. It was found in Him, and in going to the Lord’s house in service and in prayer, seeking for peace and leaving behind the distractions and confusion of the world.

I had a hard first year of school. Where, as much as I knew I was where my Heavenly Father wanted me to be and could see the blessings all around me in my life, it still was hard.

There were deaths in the family. There were issues back at home. My schoolwork was challenging. I had to adapt to living with roommates. I had a host of learning experiences as I took on managing the women’s soccer team there.

 And even though I was being profusely blessed.

Even though I was reading my scriptures, and praying and attending church.

I needed the temple.

In the past year I have gained a testimony of the temple stronger than that I gained in the 18 and a half years living a block away from it.

I know that the temple is the House of the Lord.

I know that there we are given peace and a refuge from the rapidly increasing wickedness of our world.

I know that in the temple we find a piece of heaven, and there are able to make covenants that transcend this earthly life and continue on throughout eternity.

And I know we have a loving Heavenly Father who guides us and protects us and cares about us individually as His children.

I know that the Plan of Salvation will give us true and abiding happiness.

I know that Jesus Christ is our Savior and Redeemer and that He is the Son of God and our Elder Brother and that through Him we will live again.

And I know that attending the temple worthily and faithfully brings blessings.

I am so grateful for the opportunity I have had today to speak with you and to share my testimony of the temple. As Elder Boyd K. Packer once said, “A testimony is found in the bearing of it.” And I truly have gained a better understanding of my testimony of the temple and of the extent of the impact the temple has had on my life through preparing this talk. I know this church is true.

And I say this in the name of Jesus Christ, amen.

Home again, Home again, Jiggety Jig

I've been putting together this post since I got home just over a month ago. 

Now I am 2 1/2 weeks from heading off again. 

 (The Cardston Alberta Temple)

It is crazy to me that I spent almost 19 years of my life in the same town, excluding holidays and vacations. 

And now I am beginning the rest of my life, so here I am almost finished with year one of my post-Cardston life.

I love Cardston though.

I am so grateful for where I grew up and those I grew up with. 

One of my mother's favorite quotes is that it takes a village to raise a child. 

I feel that. 

Coming home for the summer I have been surrounded by my surrogate grandparents, my cousins not-cousins, my "aunts and uncles" and my second-moms. 

I have a whole unbiological family who I adore. 

And I am so grateful for them all. 

I have realized over this past year the power of community.

(Trip to the Calgary AB Temple Open House)

And this little town I live in, with just over 3500 people has shaped me and defined me. 

For better and for worse. 

I have watched people rally together to support families in trouble.

I have walked with my siblings and their little friends in the Cardston Kids Marathon year after year. 

I have been one of over a hundred young people who have spent their Friday afternoons at the Cardston temple.

I have also seen the problems that come with being in a small town. 

Judging. 

Racism.

Holier than thous. 

But at the end of the day I am so grateful for how I grew up.

I was loved. 

I was watched out for, even at the times I didn't want people keeping an eye on me. 

 And I always felt safe. 

(My teenaged paper route in the snow)

The other day my first grade teacher came by my work. 

And when she saw me we began talking. 

We talked about my life and what I was doing.

My goals and ambitions and plans for the future.

And she couldn't be prouder of me. 

We reminisced about what a great writer I was at age 7.

And I felt so grateful for the education I received at that moment. 

(Last first day of school)

The ideal education is having teachers who care about you.

Teachers who are invested in their students.

Teachers who inspire.

Teachers who love what they do.

Now I am not saying every teacher I had was perfect.

But looking back over the years I was very blessed.

(The Cardston AB Temple)

And I grew up in a town where I was surrounded by people who share my faith. 

That is an incredible experience in and of itself. 

I guess what I'm really trying to say is that, Cardston I am grateful. 

I have big dreams.

Dreams that are bigger than this little town and the opportunities available here.

But I love it here.

And I will always think of Cardston as home. 

The Temple. 

The Cemetery, which often was the only quiet place to think. 

Waterton.

Lee Creek. 

Carriage House Theatre.

My beautiful home.

The Atwood Soccer Park.

But mostly the people here make it home. 

(My Atwood Soccer Park)

Thank you Cardston. 

I love you. 

Dreaming of a Mission

I need to put this out there, I have the best family and friends ever.

I grew up in an amazing town.

I honestly am so extremely grateful for all I have been blessed with,

because I really have been blessed.

I love the life I live.

So with that to preface, I want you to listen to this song, okay?

I love that song!

My life is great.
Not that I haven't had my challenges and trials because I have and I do.
But if my life was a giant Pro's/Con's List, the Pro's would win out.
So today I want to talk about one of my greatest challenges/ blessings.

Serving a Mission.

I have absolutely incredible parents.
Really, just get to know them and you will love them too.
I know I do.
They also both served full-time missions for the Church of Latter-day Saints when they were young.
My dad served in California.
My mom served in Iowa.
The experiences they had on their missions changed their lives.
And they probably wouldn't be together today if they hadn't served.

I grew up knowing what a blessing serving a mission is.
And I was taught from my youth to prepare to serve a mission.
There definitely were times when I didn't want to go.
And where I doubted my parent's counsel.
But when I was 16 that all changed.

I was at EFY at BYU-Idaho.
And the first day of EFY our session director told us to write down 3 questions we had and at the end of the week those questions would be answered.
I remember sitting there and not being able to think of a single question.
So I left my sheet blank.
I went through the rest of that week and it was great.
I felt so close to my Savior, Jesus Christ and I knew how loved I was.
The last day of EFY we all met together again and our session director reminded us of the questions we had been told to write down that first day.
He asked us to think back over the week and think if our questions were answered during the week.
As I sat there it was as if there was a voice in my head, and it told me that I was supposed to serve a mission.
I hadn't written down a single question.
Looking back that was during a time when I was really doubting if I was going to go on a mission.
It would be 5 years before I could even go on a mission.
But Heavenly Father knew the question that was in my heart.
And He answered it.

That was an amazing experience for me.
But then again I was 16 so I went home and sunk back into real life.
And I forgot about that experience I had.
And I began to doubt again.
Then October rolled around and my seminary teacher asked all of us to think of a question and to pray about it before General Conference later that week.
That Saturday I knelt beside my bed and asked Heavenly Father if He truly wanted me to go on a mission to have just one person talk about sister missionaries in their talk.
Just one.
And if that happened then I would know I was supposed to go.

For anyone who remembers that Conference almost 3 years ago I think you will know what my answer was.
But I will remind you all.
I walked upstairs and sat down in front of the tv with my family.
As I did President Monson got up and announced the age change for missionaries.
And I am sitting here trying not to cry because after all this time it still hits me so strong.
But as soon as he started speaking I started to cry the spirit was so powerful.
And my spirit knew.
Sisters could now serve at 19 instead of 21.
And I cried that whole morning.
Because I knew in that moment that my prayer was answered more powerfully than I could ever have expected.

From that day I had a purpose.
I WAS GOING ON A MISSION!
I attended Mission Prep from my 18th birthday.
I read the standard works.
I studied Preach My Gospel.
And I spoke at the Stake Youth Missionary Fireside about sisters preparing to serve missions.
God had a plan for me!

In the middle of all my preparing the problems I had with my eye my entire life started becoming more of an issue.
I met with doctors trying to figure out what was going on.
And ended up getting surgery about a year and a half ago.
A surgery that supposedly had a 98% success rate.
However, I was already one of a small percentage of people who have this problem.
An even small percentage is people my age.
And a tiny little miniscule number of people end up having 6 surgeries (so far) to fix this problem.
Within 7 months I had 5 surgeries,
 All during my senior year of high school.

To say this was a trial is a bit of an understatement.
But at the same time it was a path I felt I needed to pursue.
Meeting with my bishop, praying and counselling with doctors and my parents we came to the decision that I needed to wait a while before I went on my mission.
Because the problem wasn't solved and the amount of surgeries I had, I could leave on a mission.
But I hadn't been able to work because of all the surgeries so I didn't have money to go.
And I would most likely stay in the country because of my medical problems.
And trying to fix my eye had only made it worse.

So I applied for schools and made plans for the summer.
And Southern Virginia University ended up falling into my lap.
With a half-tuition scholarship.
An invitation to be the team manager for the women's soccer team.
And the Spirit telling me that was where I needed to be.

So here I am.
I decided to go to school for one year and then I would leave on my mission.
But the longer I was at school the more it didn't feel right to leave.
I went home for Christmas confused and conflicted.
And angry.
I wanted to go.
I wanted so badly to go on my mission.
The majority of my friends were gone or preparing to go.
And I wanted to join them in the field.
All of Christmas break I tried to find the answer as to what to do.
I also had surgery #6 which failed on day 1.

Near the end of break I was talking with my dad about how mad I was.
About how I didn't understand why I wasn't on a mission and why I was stuck at home/at school when I knew I was supposed to go.
What he said to me changed everything.
He told me that Heavenly Father needed missionaries who were prepared to serve.
Especially with people right out of high school going on missions, Heavenly Father needed missionaries in the field who knew how to lead from the beginning.
He needs missionaries who can work.
He needs missionaries who can serve.
He needs missionaries who are older and have lived a bit.
And He needs missionaries who have endured trials and remained faithful through it all.
When my dad said that I heard a voice in my head.
It was my voice.
Saying the same prayer I had said since I was 16 years old after EFY.
Praying that I would be given the experiences I needed to be the best missionary I could be.
I had been receiving an answer to prayer for a year and not noticed.
In fact I had cried about it and complained.
I felt so guilty in that moment.
And so grateful.

My Heavenly Father knows me.
He knows and loves His children.
And He needs me in the mission field.
I've been preparing for 3 years so far.
And I don't know how much longer I need to prepare.
Obviously I am a bit of a slow learner.
But the experiences I am having are the greatest blessing of my life.

Because you better believe that when I get into the mission field I will be the best missionary I can be.
I will give it my all.
Because I have given years of my life to preparing to give a year and a half of my life to the Lord.
And I can't wait for the day when I have on a black name tag.
But until then it is painted on my heart.

And I know that everything is going to be okay.

Trials and Triumphs

I have felt the blessings of heaven in my life.

I know that Heavenly Father loves me. 

Why then do I still have to face challenges? 

Many times I have heard the phrase, "why do bad things happen to good people?"

When I heard that I used to just shrug it off, saying that bad things happen regardless of whether you are good or bad, and it is all part of the tests of life. 

I always felt solid in that answer. That I never needed to question why bad things happened, because it was all a part of a greater plan.

Until the day when I heard myself asking Heavenly Father why I was going through a particular trial. 

I had done what I was supposed to.

I had faith. 

I knew that I had a loving Heavenly Father, and my Saviour Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost to help me. 

I was on the path. 

I was staying strong. 

So why then was I struggling?

Now I don't feel any particular need to divulge all the trials I've gone through in my life.

But I have not been without trials.

I have had times where I have doubted.

I have had times when I have been afraid. 

I have had times where I have cried and begged to be released from the struggles I faced.

I have had moments when I wanted to give up...

But I haven't. 

And I won't.

The trials I have faced have always led to something. 

Whether it was an occasion for me to learn a principle I hadn't yet had the opportunity to understand, or whether what I learned going through that trial ended up helping someone else. 

There was always a purpose. 

And I have faith and believe that there is always a purpose. 

There are days when I have felt it would be easier to leave the church.

When I felt my life would be so much better without that responsibility.

There are days when I want to scream and curse and cry.

And there are days when I just want to run away from it all. 

But here is what I know to be true. 

I know I have a Heavenly home.

I know I have Heavenly Parents and a family made up of all humanity. 

I know I am loved beyond what my mortal mind can ever comprehend.

I know I have a Saviour and Redeemer in Jesus Christ, who has felt all my pain. 

Who has endured every trial I have ever gone through and will ever go through.

I know that He lives.

I know that He loves me.

I know that He is my big brother and the love and feelings of protection I feel over my own siblings, to the point that I would do anything for them, is nothing compared to the love He feels for me. 

The love He feels for everyone. 

I know that.

Ever since I was little I have understood that this life can't be it. 

That this life isn't it. 

There is more.
We came from somewhere, and we are going somewhere.

That there is more to life than simply surviving.

We are here to thrive, to grow, to learn and to experience. 

So while I continue, daily, to struggle.

While there are always trials to face and mountains to climb. 

I know that it will all be worth it in the end.
Because this,

This is nowhere near the end of my story.

And as hard as your trials may be for you, this isn't the end of your story either. 

So join me, as I continue to paint by faith. 

Inspired.

Some weeks I just have a lot of inspiration.

To paint, to write, to avoid doing homework.....

So here is my second blog post of the day, fourth of the week and it is only Tuesday!

Dang I am doing good.

But here I am... Sitting... Chilling.... 

Why you may ask yourself? 

Because my best friend Emma B, previously mentioned in an earlier post, is opening her mission call tonight! 

And I am so extremely, unbelievable excited about it!

Besides that, I also went and painted tonight. 

It is so good to be in the studio! 

And there is a set of windows overlooking Main hall, and the sunsets each night.

 It is perfect! 

And I finished one of my paintings tonights. 

Or at least it is finished until I decide I want to change something else. 

LOL.

Anyways here it is...

Mac says it reminds her of the train in the Hunger Games.

Personally, with the black outlining, it reminds me of the storybook in the show Once Upon A Time.

But maybe that is just me.

With this piece I really wanted an illustrated appearance, something you would see in a book. 

I think I got that in this painting and that makes me so happy. 

Now I just need a title for it. 

And for it to dry.

But anyways, any title suggestions???

Thanks.

And even though this is just a work in progress still, I thought I might as well post it. 

JK this is just Jesus doodles from Institute class. 

What I really wanted to show you is.......

THIS!

So I have done a lot more on it, but in betweener pictures are awkward. 

This is a beginning picture that looks pretty dang great if I do say so myself.

Which I do.

It is going to be a whole field of lavender, with a white picket fence once completed. 

One thing I love in my art is visual texture. 

My goal is for people to have to try their hardest to restrain themselves from touching it because it looks so there. Maybe I'm too tired and that actually makes no sense, but it clicks in my brain.

I am excited to finish this piece. 

I love this piece.

I LOVE ART!

To finish off this final post I would like to include some beautiful pictures of where I live. 

Virginia is B-E-A-U-T-I-F-U-L!

On Sunday my friends and I went to Glenn Maury Park and just hung out. 

I went on an adventure. 

Found some deer.

Took some pictures.

It was great.

Well, Emma should be opening her call at any moment now......

So I am signing off for tonight.

Goodnight world!