Podcast Pearls {01}

So I love podcasts, and every once in a while I listen to one that I want to blast from the rooftops for all to hear. Sometimes because it made me guffaw awkwardly around my co-workers in the lab, or because it is a fantastic story or because it made me rethink my worldview. One particular podcast this week applies to the latter.

It's from an NPR station called Code Switch. This is a relatively recent podcast which tackles issues of race and culture in modern society, hosted by people of color who interview other people of color. They don't point fingers, only explain their experiences and issues that white people like me are slow to recognize. They don't make me feel bad for being white, but rather attempt to point out issues I would never think of because I've never be persecuted for the color of my skin. I want to take a minute to express why I appreciate podcasts of this nature.

I grew up in a small town in Eastern Washington. Not the so-green-you-feel-like-you-just-walked-into-Oz'-Emerald-City part, not the desert-goodness-gracious-so-many-wheat-fields part, but the part with 8 swimmable lakes around within a quick drive, the pull over to the side of the road and hike up a mountain to camp out, the part where you lose cell reception 15 minutes out of town part. It was beautiful and rural and often pretty redneck. My hometown is quirky. Its residents have this habit of a.) growing up there and never leaving and b.) growing up there, getting out, and inevitably moving back. It's in the bylines of the city handbook that growing up in Newport makes you a boomerang to end up there. I've gone through all the ebbs and flows of love and hate with this place, and have settled somewhere closer to the "love" side of the spectrum. But growing up in this podunk town gave me a myopic view of the world. I will be the first to admit. We had few people of color, so most of us didn't have a whole lot of interaction with people who looked different than us.  

Fortunately, I have the kind of people in my life who challenge my privileged view of the world. I have people who have taught me to check my privilege. Yeah, I don't care if you're sick of hearing this. but really, we need to check our privilege and be an advocate for other people who breathe the same air we do.

I strive to be well-informed and to form personal opinions using information from a variety of sources. However, I will be the first to admit that I am woefully ignorant when it comes to issues of racism and bigotry. I have lived in rural, white Washington my whole life, and now I live in slightly more POC-populated, but still largely white Utah. I know racism is bad, but I don't always have the acute perception to recognize it. I don't have any personal experience to connect me to what happens in Ferguson. No, I can't judge that because I have not lived there, and I do not understand what it's like. I have not had to go head-to-head with issues of race. Therefore, I am grateful for outlets like NPR's Code Switch podcast to make me aware and teaches me more empathy about people who have vastly different experiences from me. 

One particular episode of Code Switch, called "I Don't Know If I Like This, But I Want It to Win," from last week expressed this inner turmoil that people of color have when a new television show or movie comes out featuring their people. There are so few television shows that have a POC as the main character (not a lacky, not a co-star, but the plot centers around them) that when one finally comes out, you feel this obligation to like it. You want it to succeed so there can be more shows like this, but what if you just don't like it? Whether it's badly written, or it's not your sense of humor, or if you don't feel you can relate to the characters. What if you don't like it, it bombs, and that broadcasting company doesn't let another POC show through for years to come? 

This happened to Jeff Yang, a Korean TV critic who tore apart a show from the 90s called All-American Girl, which was about a Korean-American family. His review was so stinging, the show was cancelled and it took two decades for the network to sponsor another Korean-American show--which ironically, stars Jeff Yang's son. Irony, much? 

I don't know what it's like to watch television and not see any heroines who look like me. I don't know what it's like to feel compelled to relate to a character just because they're the only one who represents my racial identity on the media. I have a wide variety of white women with a lot of varying personalities to choose my role models from. I'm not saying you have to like a black character if you're black, but I can see it would be frustrating if that is the only representation you get. 

I can say I am getting a little bored with it all. I mean, we are a worldwide culture. We hear news of people all across the globe, and we need to get used to the idea that we, white people, don't have a right to rule the world.  I want to see more culture and more people of color in the media. It adds much needed diversity, and will honestly really help eliminate a lot of un-recognized racism. It helps people who may not realize they're racist see POC as people. I know it's getting better, but it's 2016. I should be able to go to a movie and see more than one movie previewed with people of color as the protagonist-- not just an antagonist or sidekick. But I'm not. 

We went to a movie the other day and I noticed all of the previews for upcoming flicks were about white people. The only preview with POC was one about Latinos, and it was primarily about drug wars. I don't know how helpful to the stereotype this is. The only POC in the movie we watched were "sidekicks" to muscular, masculine white men. I'm tired. I'm tired of knowing there is a richer culture out there and not seeing it. I hate having to look for it. And you shouldn't have to, you know? 

If you have a half hour, whether it's on your commute to work, when you're washing dishes, or on your morning run, give it a listen! It's worth your time. 

You Have a Perfect Dad

Many of my friends and loved ones have fathers who love them deeply, were present in their childhood, and were examples of hard work, charity, faith, and devotion. Many do not. This is for both parties. Because regardless of the degree of fatherly devotion you’ve experienced in your life, each of us have a perfect dad to look up to. No earthly father is without faults, but we have a Heavenly Father whose love can more than make up for the shortcomings of all the male figures in our lives. Because just as I believe all women have a divine role as mother, I believe also that all men have a divine role as a father, irrelevant of the presence of actual posterity.

One of the leaders of my church once said this:

In the message of the gospel, the entire human race is one family descended from a single God. All men and women have not only a physical lineage leading back to Adam and Eve, their first earthly parents, but also a spiritual heritage leading back to God the Eternal Father. Thus, all persons on earth are literally brothers and sisters in the family of God. 

It is in understanding and accepting this universal fatherhood of God that all human beings can best appreciate God’s concern for them and their relationship to each other. This is a message of life and love that strikes squarely against all stifling traditions based on race, language, economic or political standing, educational rank, or cultural background, for we are all of the same spiritual descent. We have a divine pedigree; every person is a spiritual child of God.

This is but an echo of the scripture in Romans 8 that says: “The Spirit itself beareth witness with our spirit, that we are the children of god.” We truly are children of God. I am deeply grateful for that knowledge. I have felt my Father's love in dark times. His hand is evident in times of cheer and tragedy. He is ever-listening, ever-loving, ever-guiding to those who hearken to his words.

One thing I always take for granted is prayer. It is a direct line to the God of all. Whenever you need him, he is there. You have a personal phone line to the one who keeps the world spinning. It is always open, never busy, the connection is never broken. I am grateful he cares enough about me to offer me that. He answers your pleas. Of this I am certain. 

I am grateful for the never-ending proof of His love for us. He gave us this beautiful world. Flowers are a strong testimony of God’s love for us. He could have created a pretty flower with a sweet scent for us to enjoy. Instead, he’s given us over 400,000 types of flowers worldwide, so we have a wide variety of beauties to relish over and over again. That’s the kind of love Heavenly Father has for us. 400,000 times more than I can fathom.

Most of all, I’m especially grateful for the love God has shown us through sending his son. Through Christ, we have a perfect example, a perfect friend, and a way to return to our Father. Never mourn the shortcomings of a father figure, for we have all we need. We have a god who continually watches over us. To those who feel fatherless, please know that you are loved. 

I want to express gratitude to the many fatherly figures in my life who have worked hard to emulate the love and devotion of our father above. Thank you to the new fathers who are trying their best, thank you to the empty nesters who have worn out their life in the service of their family, and thank you to bishops, pastors, mentors, counselors, and other community leaders who have acted as fathers to the fatherless. Thank you, fathers. May you continue to direct, guide us to THE father of all. 

We're the Lunatics.

My Mister and I recently took a trip to Washington DC to  visit his brother. This was Vaughn's first visit to DC, and basically, he was like a kid in a candy store about all the museums, memorials, and historical landmarks. It was a blast! but the highlight of the trip was really the United States Memorial Holocaust Museum. If you have never been, it is a must. If you find yourself in the DC area, do not miss the opportunity to come to this museum. This is an amazing place. The format and layout is very inspired, and if you are able to devote several hours to visit this museum, it can change your life and your entire perspective of humanity.

Lincoln Memorial

A co-worker asked me why I would go somewhere so sad. And yeah, it is devastating and heart-wrenching. The Holocaust was one of the worst events in human history, and we continue to feel emotional repercussions of it through continued generations. All of humanity has been affected. We spent about four hours soaking up all the perfectly laid out information, and I swear I cried at least 3 hours of that time. It is an excruciating topic, but it is crucial. Avoiding hard things in history does not help us learn from them. If we do not face these events head on, we are bound to repeat the atrocities.  Hitler himself knew that he could "get away" with such barbaric tactics because similar acts had slid through the cracks before. He is quoted saying of the Armenian Genocide: 

"I have issued the command and I'll have anybody who utters but one word of criticism executed by a firing squad that our war aim does not consist in reaching certain lines, but in the physical destruction of the enemy. Accordingly, I have placed my death-head formations in readiness for the present only in the East with orders to them to send to death mercilessly and without compassion, men, women, and children of Polish derivation and language. Only thus shall we gain the living space (Lebensraum) which we need. Who, after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the Armenians?" 

Do you think talking about the Armenian Genocide would have prevented the Holocaust? I don't know. But perhaps it would've given more people pause, and perhaps more people would have survived the concentration camps. So let's talk about it. Let's talk about how easy it is for history to repeat itself.

The museum is is organized in three floors: 1.) how Hitler came to power and how Nazi propaganda turned public opinion against the Jewish people, 2.) the concentration camps, and 3.) the resolution and end of war. We spent a lot more time on the first floor than the 2nd and 3rd, because I found it fascinating how it all went down. Germany had a solid government in place, didn't it? It had checks and balances. It had democracy. How did this happen?

While we were on the first floor, I overheard a woman say, "It takes a lot of very sick people to do this..." and my internal response was something akin to this:

I wanted to turn to her and shake her. No! It doesn't take a lot of "sick" people! That's the point of this whole museum. because these were regular people, good citizens, fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers. People with jobs just like yours and mine. People who came home at night, ate dinner with their family, attended church, volunteered, watched TV, worried about their children's futures, and where to get the best price for groceries. It doesn't take a lot of sick people. It simply takes a lot of scared people.

Fear can change the perspective and opinion of nations. The Nazis came to power because people were afraid. The economy was in difficult times, the world had already been ripped to pieces from the brutal "Great War," and Germany was in trouble. When you feel weak and afraid, human nature dictates to turn to the strongest ally you can see. That ally just happened to be a power-hungry psycho who has done far more damage to our world than just making the name "Adolf" taboo for your child, all the while promising to bring redemption to their country.

Hitler and his party were originally viewed as the crazy, right wing party. They were in the minority. A non-threat. Hitler landed himself in prison, no one really cared. He wrote a book. No one really cared. His racist newspaper was banned. Meh. He was viewed as a bigot, an extremist, someone you didn't want leading your country. But he became High Chancellor, and within months, dictator because people were scared. People started saying, "You know, there has to be someone to blame for this crisis we're in. Hey, Hitler seems to be yelling pretty loudly. Oh, and he's blaming people who look and act different than us? Sounds about right." and thus they developed an almost cult following. 

Portraits

I want to say that this cannot happen in our world today. I want to say that our human society has become more diverse, we have access to knowledge about different governments, cultures, religions, lifestyles and skin colors. I want to say that, but at the same time I don't know if I can stand behind that statement. Because the Internet is amazing. But both a strength and a downfall of this versatile tool, is that you can find exactly what you look for. Although the resources are there, we don't always use them for good. Just like we can have healthy food in grocery stores, doesn't mean we'll get thinner and our cholesterol will go down. We surround ourselves with what we want to hear, what we want to know about. If you don't want to read the Quran, you won't. If you want to learn how horrible Muslims are, that's what you find. We are a society who benefit from the Internet as a medium for us to pick out facts that validate our already stubborn beliefs--buffet-style. We can unfollow, unfriend, unsubscribe, and un-associate with whoever we want, and create this nice cush bubble of opinions we agree with. This is especially dangerous as we run ourselves headlong into an anti-political, no-negotiation, no-conversation, bullheaded way of solving issues. We say MY issue is more important than THEIR issue. My infirmity is more important than the struggle of that homosexual or that homeless person or that Muslim or that Israeli or the person that lives in the city or that of the farmer. We no longer look at the big picture. Which is the biggest irony of our age today, when so much of that big picture is available to us with our information inundation. Here's why that is an extremely dangerous thing to do.

A tactic used by Hitler's regime was to inundate the airwaves with antisemitic propaganda. Over and over, every poster, every newspaper, every radio show had jabs at Jews. They're parasites, they're not like you, they're rats, they're manipulators, they'll take advantage of your kindness, they want to take over the world. He has a quote from Mein Kampf, "If you tell a big enough lie and tell it frequently enough, it will be believed." And boy, that lie was caught, hook, line and sinker.

Deuteronomy 4:9

Nowadays, WE control our own personal airwaves. WE create our own propaganda. If you only follow one newspaper, if you only watch Fox News (or CNN or BBC) or only ready The Skimm (guilty) then you are getting biased data. No matter how hard that news agency tries to be down the middle on the spectrum. You are forming a cone of ignorance. Very specific opinions swirl and reverberate around your head.  And THAT is how we become bigoted and allow horrendous things to happen to people. The Holocaust didn't occur because Germany was full of sadistic psychopaths. It happened because regular people like you and me were scared and thus manipulated without realizing it. If we're not recognizing our own biases, checking our privilege, challenging our views, showing empathy to people very different from ourselves, we too live in our own propaganda driven worlds.

In the very last part of the museum was this quote from a Protestant pastor named Martin Niemöller:

First they came for the Socialists, and I did not speak out—

Because I was not a Socialist.

Then they came for the Trade Unionists, and I did not speak out—

Because I was not a Trade Unionist.

Then they came for the Jews, and I did not speak out— 

Because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for me—and there was no one left to speak for me.

We are taught to apply the scriptures to ourselves. That's really hard. It's hard to step back and say "this isn't written for people long past," this isn't for people who aren't Mormon, this isn't for the neighbor who leaves church early or even your spouse who has that annoying habit. It's for you. It's for you. 

We also fall into this habit with history. We don't "liken" history unto ourselves. We think the mistakes of the past are made because our ancestors were ignorant and dumb. But we have the benefit of retrospect. We see the outcome of their actions, but we often can't see the outcomes of our own actions. Germans weren't stupid. They weren't ignorant. I would bet we would be just as apt to make the same decisions they did if we did not know the horrors awaiting to be written in history books. But we have the benefit from this knowledge. We can learn from those mistakes. 

At the end of George Orwell's classic, "Animal Farm," is a very poignant. The pigs have started walking on two legs and were having dinner with neighboring farmers and other men. The other animals are peaking in the windows to see what they're up to. 

"But they had not gone twenty yards when they stopped short. An uproar of voices was coming from the farmhouse. They rushed back and looked through the window again. Yes, a violent quarrel was in progress. There were shoutings, bangings on the table, sharp suspicious glances, furious denials. The source of the trouble appeared to be that Napoleon [a pig] and Mr. Pilkington [a man] had each played an ace of spades simultaneously.  Twelve voices were shouting in anger, and they were all alike. No question, now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which." 

Are we the pigs, or are we the men? 

 The banner in front of the DC Holocaust museum states in bold, all capital letters "NEVER AGAIN." If we don't see that repetition of history is a possibility, we have learned nothing from the  atrocities of the Holocaust. The museum has been for naught. So let us be kind. Let us strive to understand people different from us. Let us welcome challenges to our faith systems, our perspectives, our opinions. Let us "act and not be acted upon." Let us change our minds, and let others do the same. Let us be brave and stand up against the world's atrocities. Let us have the courage to see the plights of others and let us learn precious empathy. Let the human race progress and become better. Let us always remember that "we are the lunatics." But most of all, let us learn to love people better, especially those different from ourselves. 

Weekend Warrior.

Sometimes you have back-to-back adventures that take you from one corner of the country to the next and you walk yourself ragged and enjoy the wonders of inner-city public trans. And sometimes you have a weekend of perfection at home with your SO. 

This weekend was that weekend. It was an ideal  weekend that reminded me why I love weekends so much. In the past few weeks we spent a few days at Disneyland and a couple days in Washington DC. It was soooo fun, but we are soooo tired.

And this week was rough. Like, fell-down-the-stairs, messed-things-up-at-work, almost-missed-my-flight-home kind of rough.  I needed this weekend to be a restful one so I could deflate from the long vacation and from the work week. So what constitutes the perfect weekend for me? Allow me to give you a rough outline:

Friday night—Date night! Vaughn and I went to grab dinner at the mall food court and watched the new Captain America movie (so good!). It wasn’t super romantic, but it was sweet time with my dude.

Saturday –The beauty of Saturday is you don’t have any time frame to stay inside. Like, I can read my scriptures for as long as I want in the morning without having to cut it short to race to work. So I woke up and did just that. Then I went for a run—which is a big deal for me, since I haven’t run in several months due to an injury. It was beautiful and sunny, but not too hot. Per-fect-oh. Then I read a bit, made breakfast for my husband, dawdled online with emails and blog stuffs. And by some miracle, I convinced Vaughn to come with me grocery shopping! Huzzah! He hates grocery shopping, but when he does go, he tries to act annoying so I don’t ever take him with me again. I think it’s cute. Mostly. That afternoon, we hung out with some of our best people. We did a picnic up at Bridal Veil Falls and played with their baby (I made him cry by trying to put sunscreen on him. Whoops). As our Saturday night tradition dictates, Vaughn and I grabbed some A&W root beer on the way home and watched some cheesy 90s movie we found on Netflix. It was a productive, yet somehow also lazy Saturday. You can't get much better than that! 

Sunday—Fun day! I adore the Sabbath. I love the opportunity to have an entire day to devote to serving and thinking of Christ. It’s refreshing and rejuvenates my spirit. As I started writing this, it started pouring rain outside, and it's one of the most calming sounds for me. Rain patters and Rob Gardner make a perfect Sabbath soundtrack. 

We also have a really fabulous ward with truly inspirational people. My church group functions as I believe all Christian church communities should: we take care of each other, we uplift one another, we don’t judge, we just genuinely love on one another, and we help each other center on Christ. I have the perfect example of this.

In my church, we have something called visiting teaching where each woman in the ward is assigned a couple of women to fellowship. The idea is that no one falls through the cracks, and each sister’s visiting teacher can be a friend and support. I’ve had the same visiting teacher for probably two years now. She is wonderful, wise, and supportive. Well, the assignments recently changed in my ward and she is no longer my teacher. She went out of her way to come up to me to say that although she’s no longer my visiting teacher, she still wants me to know she’s there if she needs anything and that she’d like to have us over for dinner sometime. I was very touched by that. And this is true of so many people in our ward! I have learned so much from them.

Although Sundays have been pretty busy for both Vaughn and I due to our callings in the church, it truly is a day of rest and rejuvenation as we are uplifted and guided by the Lord. Serving others is the best medicine for a hard week. 

Cheers to another successful weekend for the books! Good luck on your Monday! 

Reclaiming Easter

          For a long time, it was difficult for me to motivate myself to “get in the spirit” of Christmas each December. What with all the cacophony of consumerism and stress of the winter holidays, it is always difficult for me to feel like Christmas is actually a celebration of Christ. I mean, I get it. Christ was born of a virgin. It’s a miracle. But the fact that he was born as a man wouldn’t be important at all if it wasn’t for what happened at Gethsemane—and not just Gethsemane, but Cavalry and especially the following Sunday Morning. To me, Christmas has nothing on Easter.

          Easter is very real and very easy for me to get excited about. In fact, I would even say Easter is my favorite holiday, because I actually understand what the fuss is all about. I’ve always spent Easter with Christ as the focus. My family always had a special lamb dinner to remember the Lamb. My mother always lovingly gave us Easter cards with scriptures; the cross was a prominent decoration and reminder; we always attended church where we usually heard an Easter Cantata or some sort of music dedicated to Christ and the Atonement along with a sermon emphasized on what the Resurrection means for us. Even as a twenty-five year old woman, I still get an Easter package every year. It’s as big a holiday for my family as is Thanksgiving or Christmas.  And isn’t that how it should be? Shouldn’t it be the most important holiday that we can celebrate?

This year's Easter package from my mama

          Joseph Smith said, “The fundamental principles of our religion are the testimony of the Apostles and Prophets, concerning Jesus Christ, that He died, was buried, and rose again the third day, and ascended into heaven; and all other things which pertain to our religion are only appendages to it.” The Atonement and the Resurrection are what it’s all about! Nothing would matter without it. There would be no “good news,” just a harsh line separating good and evil, leaving “the good” unattainable, and The Law condemning us all in our imperfections. 

          But that isn’t the end. The end is more glorious than any of the disciples could have imagined. Jesus died, after three dark days, rose again. The resurrection is a testament that God does not leave us in our sorrows. Our life story is not a tragedy. As President Hinckley said, “Everything will be okay in the end. If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.” When Mary Magdalene first went to Christ’s tomb that Sunday morning, she mistook it as the end.

          For me, this is the climax of the beautiful Easter story. Mary Magdalene is at the garden tomb. She has seen that the tomb is empty and had immediately gone to the Apostles. Peter and John had run to see for themselves, but soon left Mary alone and weeping in the Garden. She is heartbroken that her Lord has been betrayed and killed and now his body stolen? This is too much. Then a man, who she believes is the gardener, asks her what is wrong. She unknowingly responds with an emotional plea to know where the body of Jesus is. She does not recognize the man as her lord and savior until he says her name.

          “Jesus saith unto her, Mary. She turned herself, and saith unto him, Rabboni; which is to say, Master.” (John 20:16) As if the storm clouds broke to reveal a marvelous sun shining, the sorrow vanishes and is replaced by sheer joy. The grave could not hold him! Jesus overcame death to bring us hope! His victory is for us individually. 

          I heard someone once speak of Luke 22:43 in a church meeting, where an angel came to Jesus while he suffered in Gethsemane. The scripture says the angel provided comfort. The speaker said “What could the angel have possibly said to bring comfort to Christ while he endured the pains and sorrows of all of humanity? I think the only comfort the angel could offer during this time was a reminder of why he was suffering. A reminder of those for whom he was atoning, those he loved so well—or in other words, us. To Christ, I suggest that the angel was whispering our names.”

Now this isn’t doctrine, but it definitely depicts how deep Christ’s love is for each of us individually. If you were the only person on Earth, Christ’s love extends so far that he would suffer and atone for just you.

          However this is a two sided coin. A true understanding of what Christ did shows that if Christ would die for just me, he would willingly sacrifice for each person you meet. Every person you see on the street, every brother and sister, every coworker, neighbor, felon, immigrant and politician. This idea hit me hard this week. I was listening to Lamb of God by Rob Gardner when I was told that someone had intentionally, blatantly and cruelly belittled my husband. My husband, the kindest, most loyal goofball anyone will ever meet. The man with a heart of gold who goes out of his way to help people. The man I love! I was lividly stewing about it, thinking about how we’re supposed to turn the other cheek, and what I’d do if we weren’t instructed to do so. I was finding comfort in the thought that people like that will get their just rewards in the end—then I realized, as I listened to Mary’s song, “Here is Hope,” that no. “People like that” will not get their just rewards. And that’s the point of the Atonement, that none of us will get what we deserve.

          It is extremely humbling to realize that I am part of the demographic of “people like that.” We all are. We all are desperately in need of a Savior, whether we realize it or not. And any sin, “big” or “small,” prevents us from entering the presence of God. I’m still wrestling with this concept.  There are only a few people in the world I would say I hated, and as a Christian I am being asked to see them as someone worthy of love? Not just my love, but the love of my sweet Savior as well? Not by my strength can such a feat be attained. And that’s why Sunday Morning is so important. As President Packer said “Restoring what you cannot restore, healing the wound you cannot heal, fixing that which you broke and you cannot fix is the very purpose of the atonement of Christ.” 

          So how do we celebrate this sacred day, glorious day of all days? Here are some ways that Vaughn and I have found help us really center on Christ during the Easter season. Our traditions are mostly during Holy Week, from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday. I would love to hear how you celebrate the Savior during this special season personally and with your families!

Music

          Last weekend we attended a production of Lamb of God, (mentioned previously), performed by Witness Music Utah, an interdenominational Christian musical group. It is a powerful oratorio about the last few days of Christ’s mortal life. It depicts emotions of the apostles and his mother, Mary during the events. It has a strong message of hope laced throughout, and I wish I had the ability to express how much this work impacted me. I felt not only Christ’s love, but a deep love for him in return. Lamb of God was an answer to prayer. I bought the CD as soon as I could and have been listening to it every single day since. If you have the chance, I would strongly recommend seeing this performance live next year, but until then, you can buy the CD at WitnessMusicUtah.org. It is SO GOOD. Aside from Lamb of God, I’ve found that listening to Easter hymns really help you reflect on the Savior and the Atonement.

Family Scripture Study 

          We also redirected our nightly family scripture study to the scriptures that corresponded with the events of Holy Week.  You can find these kinds of reading lists on Pinterest (where you find most everything else) or in this article from one of Vaughn’s amazing religion professors: Eric D Huntsman. Here is Dr. Huntsman’s reading list:

Palm Sunday: Triumphal Entry; cleansing of the temple
(Matthew 21:1–17; Mark: 11:1–11; Luke 19:28–46; John 12:12–19)

Monday: Cursing of the fig tree; cleansing of the temple in Mark; teaching in the temple
(Matthew 21:18–22:14; Mark 11:12–19; Luke 19:47–20:18; John 12:20–36)

Tuesday: Lessons from the fig tree; more teachings in the; the Olivet Discourse
(Matthew 22:15–25:46; Mark 11:20–13:37; Luke 20:19–21:38; John 12:37–50)

Wednesday: Plot to kill Jesus; the anointing described by Mark and Matthew; Judas agrees to betray Jesus
(Matthew 26:1–16; Mark 14:1–11; Luke 22:1–6)

Thursday: The Last Supper; Gethsemane; betrayal and arrest; Jesus before the Jewish authorities (Matthew 26:17–26:75; Mark 14:12–72; Luke 22:7–71; John 13:1–18:27)

Good Friday: Jesus in the hands of the Romans; the Crucifixion; the burial
(Matthew 27:1–61; Mark 15:1–47; Luke 23:1–56; John 18:28–19:42)

Saturday: Jesus in the Spirit World
(Matthew 27:62–66; 3 Nephi 9–10; 1 Peter 3:18–4:6; D&C 138)

Easter Sunday: The Resurrection
(Matthew 28:1–15; Mark 16:1–14; Luke 24:1–49; John 20:1–23)

Family Night 

          This year we spent our family night making Resurrection cookies and reading through the story of Jesus’ betrayal and resurrection as laid out here. The cookies are meringue-like and bake with a hollow hole in the center to symbolize the empty tomb. In the past, we have also made Lazarakia bread. That is an orthodox tradition where you make this heavy sweet bread in the shape of Lazarus in the burial shroud. 

Resurrection cookies

Dinner in the Dark

          In the Book of Mormon, we learn that during the three days after Jesus’ death, there was complete darkness. (3 Nephi 8:20-23) To remember this, we had a meal in the dark by candlelight on Saturday. We had sparkling grape juice and challah bread (Jewish braided sweet bread eaten during Shabbat).

Holla for the Challah!

Candlelight dinner

Seek out Opportunities

          This year we had the opportunity to attend BYU’s Easter Conference, where we heard Dr. Huntsman, Dr. Daniel K. Judd and the beloved Sheri Dew speak. They spoke of the Atonement and standing as witnesses of Christ. It was the perfect way to celebrate Good Friday. There are also opportunities to participate in Messiah sings and other concerts (like Lamb of God!) in your community. Seek them out! 

          I know some who actually take Good Friday off work to celebrate in their personal way. I had the blessing of attending a Christian university that gave us Good Friday off, and I found great significance in taking the opportunity to go to the temple. In my church, because baptism is so important, we believe in performing baptisms by proxy for those who have passed without the opportunity of being baptized in this life. Proxy baptisms and other ordinances are performed in LDS temples. I found great significance in taking the opportunity to go to the temple and worship in that way on Good Friday. "Dying," by being lowered into the water and "rising" as you are lifted out truly helped me better understand what Christ did and how we each have our own personal "deaths" and victories every day (1 Corinthians 15:31) as we utilize the Atonement in our lives. 

          I know that my Savior lives. I am grateful for His Atonement and the opportunity to start over again and again. I’m grateful for Christ’s example, and his patience with me. I know it is through him that I can be made whole. And I know that what President Howard W. Hunter said is true: “Whatever Jesus lays his hand upon lives.” By his stripes I have been healed, and because he rose again, I can become better. 

Hallelujah!

How to Not Be a Jerk on the Internet: An Open Letter to Myself

Dear Rebecca,

The internet should be used as a tool to connect people, spread information, and to make the world a little smaller. It is a double-edged sword. Proper and appropriate use of the internet can and has benefited humanity as a whole on a grand scale, but acting immature, unkind and ungrateful for the gift of the internet has dastardly consequences that hurts human progression. I write this letter out of concern. You have been guilty of the latter for the past few months. Political tensions are high and your sense of justice may be considered admirable by some, but is contrary to your personal ethos.

In 2011, E. Dallin H. Oaks spoke about Truth and Tolerance: “As modern transportation and communication have brought all of us into closer proximity to different peoples and different ideas, we have greater need for tolerance. …

“This greater exposure to diversity both enriches our lives and complicates them. We are enriched by associations with different peoples, which remind us of the wonderful diversity of the children of God. But diversities in cultures and values also challenge us to identify what can be embraced as consistent with our gospel culture and values and what cannot. In this way diversity increases the potential for conflict and requires us to be more thoughtful about the nature of tolerance.”

You have left embers in your wake with your fiery, sometimes cruel words. Is that what you stand for? Is that what you want to be known for? No. That is not who you are. My dear, “be loyal to the royal within you.”  You are a daughter of God, a disciple of Christ. You are called to be better. To be the light, not someone who breeds darkness and bitterness like a monster pouring black paint on other’s artwork. 

Allow me to remind you what you stand for. You stand for conversation, not argument. You believe the internet can be a tool to not just connect people to their friends and family, but to expand their horizon of thought. It is a tool for understanding those you may never meet, and learning about circumstances beyond your experience to increase your empathy for your fellow man. You stand for what is spoken of in Ephesians 4:29, “Let no corrupt communication proceed out of your mouth, but that which is good to the use of edifying, that it may , minister grace unto the hearers.”  You believe in edifying your brothers and sisters in Christ, and those who have a different faith, or no faith at all. You believe “in being honest, true, chaste, benevolent, virtuous, and in doing good to all men…If there is anything virtuous, lovely, or of good report or praiseworthy, [you] seek after these things” (13th article of faith). First and foremost, you believe in loving people—and that includes people who disagree with you. 

Here are some guidelines to keep in mind when interacting on the interwebs to bring light to those of your acquaintance.

1. Respect people

You often see people with posts that say “If you do such-and-such thing, you’re an idiot,” That’s telling people that based on your opinions (not your actions, not who you are), you are unworthy of respect. They are not. He or she is someone’s parent, friend, sibling, child. Regardless of their point of view, they are a child of God. They are our brother or sister and have the right to be treated with love and kindness. And when you humanize someone, they are far more likely to respond kindly back than if you treat them like an imbecile.

Even worse, you are more likely to disrespect those you do not know. It’s easy if all you know about someone is their name (or sometimes even just their username). They aren’t a breathing, feeling, complete human being in your mind. They’re just a voice on Facebook who disagrees.  I would urge you to remember that people are still people. Every disagreeing voice on Facebook is still a human being. 

2. Eliminate the US vs THEM mentality.

A house divided cannot stand, right? Rebecca, in your self-proclaimed perspective, you attribute the polarity issue in our country as the number one obstacle to beneficial development. Then you go and play into it yourself. 

 Progress in our country will only be reached when we realize that people have different opinions and different perspectives, but all are trying to make the United States better. This article expresses this point very thoroughly. Polarizing people, blaming one side for the downfalls of our nation, is insipid. We have problems because we are a nation run by people, and nothing man ever creates is without flaw. There should be no Republicans vs Democrats, no White vs Black (or any people of color), no Rich vs. Poor, no Men vs. Women, no Christians vs. Atheists. 

For example, no, the democrats are not trying to ruin the country by letting Muslims in, and no, Republicans aren’t trying to be racist jerks by not letting them in. If there was fluid, incorrupt communication between the two, we would see democrats are acting out of compassion and republicans are acting in defense of their families and well-being. Both sides have good intentions. If everyone had an honest conversation, there would be less mud-slinging and more learning. Hearts would soften because you’re hearing about someone’s experience rather than someone’s “wrong” opinion. 

Marvin J. Ashton has a quote that says, “Woe unto those who feast on the dirt and the distasteful instead of the fruits.”

3. Don’t respond in kind when others are not kind. 

Sometimes, even when you play nice, there are people who will not. Be humble enough to apologize when you need to, but have enough self-respect to walk away from a cat fight that’s a-brewing. That’s what “turn the other cheek” means.

When Christ was confronted before the Sanhedrin in Matthew 26, it is said his response to the high priest was simply that he “held his peace” (verse 63).  Rebecca, you can learn a lot from what Jesus said, but you can also learn from his silence. Sometimes, especially on the internet where any amount of careful wording can be misconstrued, silence is the kindest, most respectful option.

Ellen DeGeneres said this when she was given the People’s Choice Humanitarian Award: “It’s a little strange to actually get an award for being nice and generous and kind. Which is what we’re all supposed to do with one another. That’s the point of being human.” And I would add, that is a huge part of being Christian.

4. Cool your jets. 

Don’t shop for groceries when you’re hungry. 

Don’t send a letter when you’re angry. 

Don’t make legal decisions when you’re on painkillers. 

Don’t drive when you’re upset. 

And don’t post on Facebook when you’re feeling overly passionate. 

A representation of what internet arguments look like.

You have strong opinions, Rebecca. That is evident. You feel a lot by nature, and community is important to you. That’s pretty normal. Most people want that. But when someone who you thought would be on your side turns out to have very different opinions, you lash out in indignation—and yes, burn bridges. Your first response is usually the natural man, so take a step back, take a walk, go index, go clean something and think about what specifically upset you. Is this person your friend? Would starting a conversation about your opinions be helpful or hurtful? If you can’t approach it with a level head, just keep scrolling. Or better yet, go do something useful with your time. 

5. Value people.

“Remember the worth of souls is great in the sight of God;” (Doctrine & Covenants 18:10)

Everyone is entitled to an opinion. If you had the entirety of someone’s life experiences, their economic situation, their family life, their education, or their faith system, you may very well have their exact same sentiment. My husband often says “If you know someone’s story, it makes it hard not to love them.” I think that’s really true. If someone agrees with you, you feel this burning desire to explain why you think the way you do. Don’t you think others have the same desire? So hear them out, and pray that they hear you out too. Who knows, maybe that’ll start a conversation that leads to progress. Maybe you’ll change your mind. And that’s more than okay. That’s what we’re called here to do. We are meant to grow, and learn and become more educated—and guess what? Sometimes that means changing your mind. If you haven’t changed your mind about anything, you haven’t learned anything. 

Before posting, ask yourself these questions: 

• Is it edifying?
• Will it be heard well and correctly by those you are communicating with?
• Are you responding in anger or genuine desire to have a conversation?

If there is one thing I hope to take out of this life, it’s to learn to value people over being right. 

This year will be challenging for you. It’s an election year. You’ll be tempted to post things you find funny, but may offend someone or lead to bickering in the comment section. Sometimes you’ll get riled up. Sometimes you’ll be hurt by posts from your friends. Some friends will say things like “if you vote this way, delete me.” Don’t. You will see posts you think are bigoted, racist, small-minded, ridiculous, sexist, nonsensical and some absolutely crazy--and it will be from people you like. Just let it go. This horrendous season called "election year" will pass, and relative peace will return to your news feeds. The cat videos and selfies will return soon enough.

Remember who you are and remember who everyone else is too. That is, they are your brothers and sisters on this speck of blue in the vastness of the cosmos. 

Remember that the world is changed by your example, not your opinion. Go and do better than you have.

And first and foremost, remember to love your fellow inhabitants of the earth. 

with love,

Yourself

Humble Pie and Healing.

          I pride myself in being a very independent person. My mom says I’ve been like this since I was little. From telling my grandma I wanted mayonnaise on my banana bread to wanting to play my own player at a board game, I was a stubborn little girl who always wanted to do things by myself. To this day, I love being independent and “grown up.” I was anxious to get my driver’s license when I was 16. I was anxious to have a job as soon as it was legal. I’ve filed my own darn taxes since I was 17. I enjoy making lists and schedules and meal plans and budgets.  This may come as a surprise to some of you (*cough*sarcasm*cough*) but I am a control freak. I know. SURPRISE!

 Well, Heavenly Father knows when to knock us off our high-horses, and it was about time for me to cram down some humble pie. I have had to be extremely dependent on others. As of today, I have not been able to drive nor walk very far for 22 days, and although I was permitted to return to work, I had to stay at my desk for two weeks. For my job, I usually spend 70% of my time in the lab. As I recover from surgery, it has been a challenge for me.  

What happened is I broke the tibial sesamoid in my right foot by landing wrong after a pirouette. It was my senior year of college, about three years ago. There was a sharp pain in my right foot, but it didn’t bother me after that. I thought nothing of it until I moved to Utah and decided I really wanted to run a half marathon. As I increased my weekly mileage my foot would just ache. I kept trying to ease into it slower and slower, iced it, massaged it, but regardless of how easy I took my runs, my foot was hurting worse. I sought out a podiatrist here in Utah. X-rays showed that I had broken a sesamoid in both feet, but my left foot was asymptomatic (which just means it’s worked itself out and doesn’t hurt). The left injury probably happened while I was running at some point and I just didn’t notice. My doctor said it wasn’t common to have both broken, but since my foot is hyper mobile, meaning it moves laterally more than most feet do, I am prone to it. Just like my mom.

                I inherited some really wonderful things from my mother. Her graceful hands, her empathy for others, her optimism, her deep emotions, her gumption, her concern for others. But unfortunately, I also inherited her feet. Her small, slender feet with high arches and hyper mobility. Weak feet with a tendency to break. In fact, she broke both her sesamoids too! How cute are we.

My doctor gave me some options before talking about surgery, but the pain was increasing. Last year I realized I couldn’t do yoga anymore. Hiking was out. Running was definitely out. I was confined to specific types of strength training because lunges, which put vertical pressure directly on your sesamoid, had become a special type of torture.  

After over a year of other attempts, I opted for the surgery—a tibial sesamoidectomy, to be exact, which is a big, big word for “Let’s take this broken bone out!”  I was pretty freaked out about it. I’ve never had surgery before, unless you count getting wisdom teeth taken out. When I had my pre-operation appointment, my doctor was explaining exactly what they would do in as sensitive a way as he could, but I almost passed out. He noticed my pallor and stopped with the gruesome details and then spoke about my options for anesthetic. He explained general anesthetic, a lighter general anesthetic called MAC, or just local anesthetic. When he went to the last option, he said “but I definitely wouldn’t recommend that for you, because then you’d be awake for it.”Another wave of nausea came over me.

When I talked to my mom about my pre-op, she started laughing.

“What!?” I asked.

“I just didn’t know you were such a wimp!” My mother said she had just gotten the local anesthetic. I was astonished. I mean, I knew my mom is pretty thug. But she was awake for the entirety of her surgery?! She could see all the blood, she could hear the sound of her foot being mangled up, and could smell all the great smells that accompany surgery. Man, my mom is a champ! Beneath her bubbly exterior, she is one tough cookie.  

I was pretty shaky and weepy the day of the surgery. I had this irrational fear that the anesthetic wouldn’t work and I would just be paralyzed but conscious. My wonderful husband gave me a priesthood blessing, and that helped. The surgery was done at Orem Community Hospital and I was superbly impressed with the staff there. They answered all sorts of silly questions and explained everything really thoroughly. They made me laugh, which is really important for me when I’m anxious and stressed. I met all of the nurses and doctors who would be working on me face to face before being rolled into the surgery area. Honestly, the worst part was getting the IV put in. I usually have great veins.  I donate blood often and have never had a bad experience.  But the combination of dehydration from fasting and nervous jitters made my veins shrink. They had to go through my hand, which was pretty uncomfortable. This easily could have been my first bad experience with needles, but the nurse was awesome so it turned out okay.

                When I woke up after the surgery, my sweet husband was next to me. He was on his phone and I asked him what he was doing. He said he was texting his mom. LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE. He was writing down the loopy things I was saying, because I had actually been awake and chattering away for a while before I was really conscious of it. Which, kudos to him, because it was hilarious. I’m glad he was there to document it.

Here are some of the things this crazy nut says when she gets out of surgery:

Me: "Where is the doctor?"
V: "He's gone."
Me: "You mean he bailed!?!?!?!"

"The prep was the worst part...this feels amazing!"

"Can I see the bone?" (I asked this several times, even though I told Vaughn specifically I didn’t want to see it the day before)

Said with great emphasis: "I'm coming back!!!!"

"If you're going to die, this is the way to go; just fall asleep, man..." This is, in fact, how Rodney Dangerfield wanted to die. I totally get it.

"Why was I freaked out about this...the worst part was poking the IV in... (looking down at my hand) Which is still here!!!!!!!!"

V: "Why don't you try to eat something."
Me: "That's like, the best suggestion you've made..."

Nurse: "Here is some apple juice".
V: "Hey, drink your apple juice."
Me (drinking apple juice): "Hey! This is apple juice!!!"

                Since then, I have been simply doted upon. My friend Ashley came and stayed with me the first day when Vaughn had to go to school. My friend Morgan brought me M&Ms and gum. The Browns brought me dinner.  My in-laws sent me this mondo care package that consisted of a butler’s bell to ring for help and enough snacks to build a fort with. I received phone calls, texts, and messages galore just checking in with me to see if I needed anything.

                And then there was Vaughn. My husband, AKA WORLD’S BEST TEAMMATE AND SWEETEST HUSBAND OF ALL TIME. He went above and beyond anything I could have imagined or asked for. That was extremely humbling for me. I strive to be the one to take care of him. In this time of our married life, I get to be the bread-winner, I get to make him dinner, I drive us most places. He remembered to do everything the nurses suggested. He sent me text reminders to hobble around like I was supposed to every hour while he was at school. He did the exercises assigned to make sure I had adequate blood flow to my toes and to check for blood clots. He made me dinner—something he’s not the most familiar with doing. But he did so very cheerfully. He brought me ice packs and took them off at the right times. He even set alarms to wake up throughout the night to put ice packs on and off, even though I said he shouldn’t worry about it at night. But he insisted because the nurses said the first 24 hours were the most important to keep the swelling down. He did this for three nights. THREE NIGHTS. He was sweet without being asked, he was sensitive to my needs. He would bring me a blanket when he knew I forgot. He kept my water filled up consistently. He bought me meds from the store. He took on the glamorous job of helping me bathe when I couldn’t do it by myself. This man is a champ. I don’t know what I ever did to deserve him. It’s not like he doesn’t have a full plate. He has a really challenging semester. He has enough to worry about without a gimp wife.  But he never complained. He’s an angel. I can’t give this man enough accolades.

                Another aspect of this surgery was giving up piano for a while. We had just purchased a digital piano, which I have fallen in love with. It’s been so long since I’ve had a piano in my home, basically since I moved out of my mom’s place, that it has been a major treat to have a piano again. But I had to give up a couple months of accompanying my ward’s choir. It’s a silly thing, and I know there are many people capable and willing to take my place. But I’m really selfish, and it’s something I really enjoy doing. It took a lot of effort to admit I couldn’t do it for a while.

                To be honest, I really like feeling needed. And for a few weeks, I felt basically useless. I didn’t cook dinner. I didn’t put on make-up. I didn’t go grocery shopping.  I didn’t do much. And I was so powerless that I had to allow people to help me, and I was extremely humbled to see how many people were sincerely willing to help me. Heavenly Father has placed special people in my life to help me feel loved. Not needed, just loved.

                It was a tender reminder that we don’t need to do anything to receive God’s love. We come to him as we are and plop ourselves before him, with our messy buns and clumsy words, and he shows us that we are his beloved, divine daughters.  Heavenly Father would be so happy to take care of His children, if we just place the precious pearl of our lives into his very capable hands.

                Today, I am grateful. I needed this surgery more than just physically. My heart is softened and I felt a layer of calloused pride be stripped away. I have been watched over and administered to by angel friends and family. Healing has come quickly. The incision is scarred up, discoloration almost nonexistent, most mobility has returned.  I never felt much pain, just some discomfort from a nerve which I realized for the first time this evening no longer hurts. I have high hopes of running again. I still want to do a half marathon. I also look forward to dancing and hiking and going on walks with my husband and practicing yoga.  You guys, I am so excited.