Well It’s Fast Sunday, so that means we share our testimonies . . .

You know it’s fast Sunday when you think about food during the Sacrament.

I’ve had the opportunity to have many discussions with my World Religions teacher at school over the past few weeks as I’ve studied sacred architecture with him. One of the things we talked about was how religion is like a box of chocolates.* There are so many different forms of chocolate, but each one is delicious in its own way.

I am so grateful for the rasbery truffle that is the eternal family. What other church has that? I am so grateful for the white chocolate of temple worship, and the creamy butter cream chocolate of contemporay revelation. I love the honey almond truffle, the Book of Mormon. What other boxes have that one?

I am grateful for the dark chocolate that represents a knowledge of the adversary. I am grateful for the coconut filling that teaches us how to doge the his cunning snares, and I am grateful for the chocolate covered cherries that represent a knowledge of the Savior, and the semisweet ones that teach us of repentence. Let’s not forget about the custard filled chocolates of prayer, or the delicious turtles of fasting.

I am grateful for the priesthood chocolates, for the one with the carmel and nuts, our Bishops. I am grateful for the gold foil of authority that wraps so many gourmet blessings. I am grateful for the 15 truffles sustained as prophets, seers, and revelators. I am grateful for the covered strawberries of patriachal blessings.

There aren’t enough chocolates to describe the blessings we have, so I will end with the chocolate that is the most delcious of them all: the Atonement of Jesus Christ. I am so grateful for that eternal sacrifice, and the effect it has in my life.

I am glad that I know who I am, and who I was before I was born. It is that knowledge that gives me the curage to be who I want to be today. I leave that testimony with you in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen.

*note: I actually started the analogy with Mr. Twadell as a box of crayons, but being fast Sunday, a box of chocolates came easier to mind.

I was floating in the clouds last week, soaring on cloud nine all the way from last Sunday to yesterday. Leave it to Monday morning to burst my bubble . . .

Last week I felt stronger spiritually and mentally than I have in a long time. I stayed on that high despite worn out muscles (or lack thereof) and late night homework crisis. I just felt strong, like by knowing who I was I could live up to who I wanted to be.

My last barn dance turned out to be lots of fun, despite a cloud of straw dust. I had fun with Abby, Gina, Megan, Dana, and everyone. I glowed the whole hour drive home . . . just ask James and Gina.

But, alas, Monday mornings are cruel . . . I have to go to swim practice now, so hold that thought.

*in progress*

Well, since I have a few min, I thought I’d post an update on the first 3 days of the week.

Sunday was amazing. It is one of the most sacred days I have ever had because of something very special. That afternoon my life changed. I have a new understanding of who I am, where I have been, and what I can do. Things that had been hard for me to deal with were suddenly explained, and I learned so much. It was the most spiritual thing that has every happened to me with two possible exceptions.

Monday the new coach killed me. Literally. My first morning practice in the weight room left me excited and refreshed and very tired. Evening practice was murder, and it pushed my body past healthy limits.

Staying up late on AP Art and then getting up at 4 for Creative Writing didn’t exactly help.

Today I had a decent day, thought timing the Girls meet turned out to be somewhat uneventful in a very obnoxious way. (If you exclude me falling asleep and Teddy ready to scream in my ear . . .)

So, back to Political Thought homework.

It’s been another good week, minus a few confusing days (that’s what happens when I think to much. It’s really not a good habit: thinking). Anyway . . . Right now I’m listening a new favorite song (one of many)- “Rooftops” by Mest. Awesome song. Also listening to The Starting Line and the Calling and Vertical Horizon.

The football game last night was tons of fun. I spent the first part cheering with Darcy and Mike and Daman and Jacob, etc. A pretty awesome game- but I guess agains Vernon Hills it’d be embarrassing to have anything but an awesome victory. Bonadona made this awesome touchdown. It was cool. J.P. showed up. I ended up spending the latter half of the game with Megan V. and Ashley A. Fun times . . . boy was I tired, though.

Thursday I stayed up all night working on a miniature piece for AP Art. I was very happy with how it turned out. I plan to do a series of three pieces of my sister illistrating “search” “ponder” and “pray” . . . hopefully soon I’ll have a place online to show you all my art work.

Oh. Last night after the game we watched What a Girl Wants. Man is she hot. Really hot. It just makes me mad when the media subtly mixes morals I don’t like with feel good things.

The media has a lot of power. I’m not even talking political power or economic power, I’m talking artistic power. Movies and other media art forms can effect your emotion. Music, mood, atmosphere, beauty, hot actresses , well written lines- these are all things that can make you feel a certain way, and they control it. They make you cry when they want you to cry. When they want you to like something, they make you like it. What a Girl Wants did this expertly. Without even knowing it, it made you think these things:

You can leave your husband for 17 years and he will come back and want you.

Change is bad. Be yourself.

Conservative clothes are restricting and don’t allow your pesonality to show through. Dress liberally.

A guy doesn’t have to love you unconditionally, he only has to like you a certain way. If you change, then he will leave you. If you go back to your old self, he will come back.

Politicians are bad.

You are perfect the way you are. You don’t have to change, in fact, you shouldn’t change because that’s a sign of weakness.

Obviously I diagree with those subliminal morals. You can’t just pack up and leave family for convience. Change is good, it’s called progress (some of the time). Modest is the hottest. You can smile if you’re wearing conservative clothes, it doesn’t make you an old hag. If you change and your partner dumps you because he doesn’t like the “new you,” Good Ridance! Politicians can be good, and they benefit our society (unless they’re demacrats ). And above all . . .

You should change. You should always be changing, always getting better. No offense, but you aren’t perfect just the way you are. (You are good, and you are loved, just don’t think that that means you don’t have to change your attitudes or actions) Changing is a sign of strength. Making goals that are higher than you are, and then striving to reach them is good. Adapting is good . . . Alright. I’m done soap boxing.

It was a cute movie- that’s the problem. I guess I just got over protective watching my sister devour the media’s message because the actors and actresses were good looking and the scenes made her cry.

Finally a chance to tell you about my awesome week . . .

It all started with a wonderfully rainy Labor Day. I was scheduled to work 3 to 9, and planned on using the morning to do something with Weggs and to run some errands (like buying an independant reading book). So, I set off into the rainy day. On the way to the book store, I got a much hoped for phone call from Margaret. She was closing the pool, and wanted me to come right away and turn in my keys. I did, and she presented me with a gift certificate to Border’s Books from the Pool Board. I was flattered even more as she and Pat invited me to lunch. I helped them close a pool or two, ate a delicious lunch, and raked in even more money than normal, while doing even less. That sort of thing does wonders on the mood

Tuesday was a reflectful, sentimental day. I also had my first Swim Practice since February. That came with both the good and bad. (until November, it’s mostly bad, but I’d rather embarrass myself now than then) Wedsday I decided there’s more to being a Seminary President then there seems. Thursday I timed the 1st Girls Swim Meet, which proved more fun than I expected. Friday I went on an orienteering course at night. I enjoyed being trusted enough to drive out of state, and then back again at midnight.

Saturday was just wonderful. I went on team-ups with the missionaries. It was a very powerful spiritual experience that taught me a lot about this work. The first thing they said to me was, “Our challenge for you is to give away this Book of Mormon.” They had a “good-luck kid” look in their eyes that said it was harder than it looked.

We started by trying to find an inactive family and talk with them, but we couldn’t even find them on the map. We tried to then find a media referal, but again, couldn’t find their address. We tried every easy option from reactivation to investigator, and couldn’t find anybody. Finally, we decided to pray. And at that, Elder Minch suggested that we not do the easy options, but that we do the hard. He suggested that we go tracting.

So we drove around, hoping for some sort of random inspiration to stop driving and start working. As we found the corner of Temple St. and Logan St., we decided that was sign enough.

The first house we knocked at, an old lady came to the door. “Whatever it is your selling I’m not interested.” *Slam *

The Elders were not phased at all. They assured me that it was normal, and that I could expect it from every house, so we staked out an area to tract that comprised at part of two streets- less than 20 houses total.

A 15 year old boy answered the second door we knocked on. His name was Abraham, and he was Catholic. He had moved from Mexico a year earlier. On his front porch, the three of us taught him the first discussion. The spirit that bore witness of the Savior and his restored Gospel was so strong. Elder Minch began by asking him about Jesus Christ and about prophets. When we asked if he thought we needed prophets today, he said no, “because nobody would listen.” The response startled us at first, but we began to see the spirit working in this boy.

Elder Hinton began to tell Abraham about Joseph Smith. He told him about how he read the Bible (James 1:6) prayed in a grove of trees, and asked God which Church to join. We showed him a picture of Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ appearing to Joseph, and Abraham asked us, “Which Church did he tell them to join?”

I answered him saying that Jesus had told him not to join any of the churches, but to wait. I then told him about the angel who came to him, and the record that the angel lead him to. I told him about the Book of Mormon, translated from that very record. I gave it to him, and told him about my own first experience reading it not much younger than he. I told him about the wars, and the righteous heroes who fought in those wars. I told him about Jesus Christ coming to this continent, and about how after I had read the Book of Mormon, I prayed about it. I told him that I knew it was true, that I knew it was real. I told him about the feeling in my heart that told me that; I told him that I felt that feeling right now.

Elder Hinton asked him to read Moroni 10:3-5, and then we talked about it. Abraham talked about hope, and asked us if he could pray to find out who he was and if God would tell him. We assured him that he would, but I was like, wow, is this kid really 15? We recognized in this kid a desire to know who we are, where we are going, and why we are here.

To make a really long story just long, we set up another appointment, and were on our way. As we walked down the sidewalk, the Elders looked at me and said, “You know, that’s not normal”

“What? Don’t you teach the first discussion at the second house every time you tract?”

In those less than 20 houses, we had 4 really good conversations, three that promised follow-ups. Personally, I could see 2 of them joining the church. The people really hungered for the gospel.

*in progress* (the bell just rang)