Hello All!
If my readers have thought I died and went to heaven, they were close enough. :) No, I haven't died. I got a job after coming home from our trip and let me tell you....that's WORK. The things I like about it though is I'm getting an awesome tan and a good paycheck. With summer coming to a close within a few weeks, I'll be heading back to the magical land of Virginia for school. I'm very excited to start classes and see friends again. I've seen the last Harry Potter and it has been a great adventure with the books and movies in my life. I've been busy working and soon within the next few weeks I'll be packing. I hope that everyone so far has had a great summer and will continue to have a splendid life!!!
Saturday, July 30, 2011
Saturday, June 11, 2011
Adventure Time: Through Wyoming and Colorado
Today the family and I started on a road trip to Oklahoma! Just to let my readers know, I hate flying tremendously. It wears me out more than sitting in a car for hours on end. And when you are driving you can look at the scenery. But driving through Wyoming for me is torture. I never have liked driving through there, but today I saw some pretty spots that caught my eye, however, it wasn't enough to change my opinion of it. We passed through little towns that looked like they were caught in the middle of two centuries that made it quite charming. Like they were old western towns with a bit of a modern twist. On a particular outskirt of a town there was a tavern. The only thing special about this tavern was its name. "The Whistling Pig". I just about died laughing at the comical name for that kind of place! Then we drove through a big mountain pass that made my mom very nervous to the point that it was very funny to watch her reactions then Starr and I imitate her. (Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.) We finally got to and through Denver and saw a beautiful pink, orange, purple, and yellow sunset. We are now currently staying the night at a KOA in Limon. For tomorrow's adventure......a day in Dodge!!
Monday, May 30, 2011
Memorial Day
This is dedicated to all of those who have and now serve this beloved country.
For the Fallen Soldiers: Your life was not in vain. It means something to everyone across this vast nation. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your sacrifice for America to make and keep her free. May you rest in peace.
For the Living Soldiers: Thank you for all that you do. It is because of you that we can sleep at night knowing that in the morning we will be safe. It takes courage to fight for what you believe in. Even though it may seem that the fight is endless, don't give up.
For America: This is a blessed country. It has been foretold by prophets that this will be a great nation and that God prepaid it for great things that have come to pass, and have yet to come.
I love this country. Let us remember that it took lives for America to be what it is now.
For the Fallen Soldiers: Your life was not in vain. It means something to everyone across this vast nation. I thank you from the bottom of my heart for your sacrifice for America to make and keep her free. May you rest in peace.
For the Living Soldiers: Thank you for all that you do. It is because of you that we can sleep at night knowing that in the morning we will be safe. It takes courage to fight for what you believe in. Even though it may seem that the fight is endless, don't give up.
For America: This is a blessed country. It has been foretold by prophets that this will be a great nation and that God prepaid it for great things that have come to pass, and have yet to come.
I love this country. Let us remember that it took lives for America to be what it is now.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
New Discoveries
1. That the grass catchers on lawn mowers are more work than necessary. SERIOUSLY!!! I would rather get the lawn done in the hour it takes me in one shot than stopping every so often to empty the darn thing!
2. Discovered new songs that I threw on my Grooveshark playlist that I'm in love with. Now, if I could only get my hands on the sheet music.......
3. Picnik!!! Oh, how I've just recently used it and I LOVE it! I've already redone a couple of my pictures with it and it is AWESOME! Here are just a couple that I really like.
2. Discovered new songs that I threw on my Grooveshark playlist that I'm in love with. Now, if I could only get my hands on the sheet music.......
3. Picnik!!! Oh, how I've just recently used it and I LOVE it! I've already redone a couple of my pictures with it and it is AWESOME! Here are just a couple that I really like.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
Me, Sentimental...............YES!
I'll admit it, I'm very sentimental. Especially when it comes to music and things that I have done. This usually happens at night. Lately, I have been feeling a bit homesick and sentimental for my wonderful school in the magical land of Virginia. I haven't been able to describe it, until I remembered something.I wrote the following poem when I was 15 for an English class and it has been on my mind for the past couple of days. This sums up my feelings perfectly. I dedicate it to my first year at SVU and the experiences I have had. It is for everyone I met and will meet. This sums up on how I will forever feel about my personal experiences in the wonderful land of Shenandoah.
Memories
Sweet
Heartbreaking, fun, melancholy
A reminder old sunsets, new dawns
They
Tell of old friends forever gone
Or a good year past.
Memories
Forget or remember
What life has imprinted on a soul.
They never depart, merely dwell in mind.
Sunday, May 22, 2011
Sunday Special: Currant Pie
This is going to be a new goal for me that on Sundays I will post something spiritual. Today I heard one of my favorite stories given in a talk. We heard it over conference, but it is worth repeating because the message is very touching and shows how God has different things in mind for us.
The Currant Bush
I was living up in Canada. I had purchased a farm. It was run-down. I went out one morning and saw a currant bush. It had grown up over six feet high. It was going all to wood. There were no blossoms and no currants. I was raised on a fruit farm in Salt Lake before we went to Canada, and I knew what ought to happen to that currant bush. So I got some pruning shears and went after it, and I cut it down, and pruned it, and clipped it back until there was nothing left but a little clump of stumps. It was just coming daylight, and I thought I saw on top of each of these little stumps what appeared to be a tear, and I thought the currant bush was crying. I was kind of simpleminded (and I haven’t entirely gotten over it), and I looked at it, and smiled, and said, “What are you crying about?” You know, I thought I heard that currant bush talk. And I thought I heard it say this: “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me, because I didn’t make what I should have made. How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.” That’s what I thought I heard the currant bush say, and I thought it so much that I answered. I said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down, for caring enough about me to hurt me. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’ ”
Time passed. Years passed, and I found myself in England. I was in command of a cavalry unit in the Canadian Army. I had made rather rapid progress as far as promotions are concerned, and I held the rank of field officer in the British Canadian Army. And I was proud of my position. And there was an opportunity for me to become a general. I had taken all the examinations. I had the seniority. There was just one man between me and that which for ten years I had hoped to get, the office of general in the British Army. I swelled up with pride. And this one man became a casualty, and I received a telegram from London. It said: “Be in my office tomorrow morning at 10:00,” signed by General Turner in charge of all Canadian forces. I called in my valet, my personal servant. I told him to polish my buttons, to brush my hat and my boots, and to make me look like a general because that is what I was going to be. He did the best he could with what he had to work on, and I went up to London. I walked smartly into the office of the General, and I saluted him smartly, and he gave me the same kind of a salute a senior officer usually gives—a sort of “Get out of the way, worm!” He said, “Sit down, Brown.” Then he said, “I’m sorry I cannot make the appointment. You are entitled to it. You have passed all the examinations. You have the seniority. You’ve been a good officer, but I can’t make the appointment. You are to return to Canada and become a training officer and a transport officer. Someone else will be made a general.” That for which I had been hoping and praying for ten years suddenly slipped out of my fingers.
Then he went into the other room to answer the telephone, and I took a soldier’s privilege of looking on his desk. I saw my personal history sheet. Right across the bottom of it in bold, block-type letters was written, “THIS MAN IS A MORMON.” We were not very well liked in those days. When I saw that, I knew why I had not been appointed. I already held the highest rank of any Mormon in the British Army. He came back and said, “That’s all, Brown.” I saluted him again, but not quite as smartly. I saluted out of duty and went out. I got on the train and started back to my town, 120 miles away, with a broken heart, with bitterness in my soul. And every click of the wheels on the rails seemed to say, “You are a failure. You will be called a coward when you get home. You raised all those Mormon boys to join the army, then you sneak off home.” I knew what I was going to get, and when I got to my tent, I was so bitter that I threw my cap and my saddle brown belt on the cot. I clinched my fists and I shook them at heaven. I said, “How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?” I was as bitter as gall.
And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, “I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.” The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness and my bitterness. While kneeling there I heard a song being sung in an adjoining tent. A number of Mormon boys met regularly every Tuesday night. I usually met with them. We would sit on the floor and have a Mutual Improvement Association. As I was kneeling there, praying for forgiveness, I heard their voices singing:
"It may not be on the mountain height
Or over the stormy sea;
It may not be at the battle's front
My Lord will have need of me;
But if, by a still, small voice he calls
To paths that I do not know,
I'll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in thine:
I'll go where you want me to go."
(Hymns, no. 75)
I arose from my knees a humble man. And now, almost fifty years later, I look up to him and say, “Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.” I see now that it was wise that I should not become a general at that time, because if I had I would have been senior officer of all western Canada, with a lifelong, handsome salary, a place to live, and a pension when I’m no good any longer, but I would have raised my six daughters and two sons in army barracks. They would no doubt have married out of the Church, and I think I would not have amounted to anything. I haven’t amounted to very much as it is, but I have done better than I would have done if the Lord had let me go the way I wanted to go.
I wanted to tell you that oft-repeated story because there are many of you who are going to have some very difficult experiences: disappointment, heartbreak, bereavement, defeat. You are going to be tested and tried to prove what you are made of. I just want you to know that if you don’t get what you think you ought to get, remember, “God is the gardener here. He knows what he wants you to be.” Submit yourselves to his will. Be worthy of his blessings, and you will get his blessings.
~ Hugh B. Brown
I have a testimony of this. Heavenly Father wants us to be happy. To do that, we may have to give up something we may think the the best thing for us but, something better is on the way and we just don't see it....yet. Heavenly Father puts his will before us, and for us to follow it, we sometimes have to get hurt. But he always makes up for that hurt or trial we go through with blessings. I know this is true. He wants us to be happy. Remember, our sadness can be the way to our eternal happiness if we let it.
The Currant Bush
You sometimes wonder whether the Lord really knows what he ought to do with you. You sometimes wonder if you know better than he does about what you ought to do and ought to become. I am wondering if I may tell you a story that I have told quite often in the Church. It is a story that is older than you are. It’s a piece out of my own life, and I’ve told it in many stakes and missions. It has to do with an incident in my life when God showed me that he knew best.
I was living up in Canada. I had purchased a farm. It was run-down. I went out one morning and saw a currant bush. It had grown up over six feet high. It was going all to wood. There were no blossoms and no currants. I was raised on a fruit farm in Salt Lake before we went to Canada, and I knew what ought to happen to that currant bush. So I got some pruning shears and went after it, and I cut it down, and pruned it, and clipped it back until there was nothing left but a little clump of stumps. It was just coming daylight, and I thought I saw on top of each of these little stumps what appeared to be a tear, and I thought the currant bush was crying. I was kind of simpleminded (and I haven’t entirely gotten over it), and I looked at it, and smiled, and said, “What are you crying about?” You know, I thought I heard that currant bush talk. And I thought I heard it say this: “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me, because I didn’t make what I should have made. How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.” That’s what I thought I heard the currant bush say, and I thought it so much that I answered. I said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down, for caring enough about me to hurt me. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’ ”
Time passed. Years passed, and I found myself in England. I was in command of a cavalry unit in the Canadian Army. I had made rather rapid progress as far as promotions are concerned, and I held the rank of field officer in the British Canadian Army. And I was proud of my position. And there was an opportunity for me to become a general. I had taken all the examinations. I had the seniority. There was just one man between me and that which for ten years I had hoped to get, the office of general in the British Army. I swelled up with pride. And this one man became a casualty, and I received a telegram from London. It said: “Be in my office tomorrow morning at 10:00,” signed by General Turner in charge of all Canadian forces. I called in my valet, my personal servant. I told him to polish my buttons, to brush my hat and my boots, and to make me look like a general because that is what I was going to be. He did the best he could with what he had to work on, and I went up to London. I walked smartly into the office of the General, and I saluted him smartly, and he gave me the same kind of a salute a senior officer usually gives—a sort of “Get out of the way, worm!” He said, “Sit down, Brown.” Then he said, “I’m sorry I cannot make the appointment. You are entitled to it. You have passed all the examinations. You have the seniority. You’ve been a good officer, but I can’t make the appointment. You are to return to Canada and become a training officer and a transport officer. Someone else will be made a general.” That for which I had been hoping and praying for ten years suddenly slipped out of my fingers.
Then he went into the other room to answer the telephone, and I took a soldier’s privilege of looking on his desk. I saw my personal history sheet. Right across the bottom of it in bold, block-type letters was written, “THIS MAN IS A MORMON.” We were not very well liked in those days. When I saw that, I knew why I had not been appointed. I already held the highest rank of any Mormon in the British Army. He came back and said, “That’s all, Brown.” I saluted him again, but not quite as smartly. I saluted out of duty and went out. I got on the train and started back to my town, 120 miles away, with a broken heart, with bitterness in my soul. And every click of the wheels on the rails seemed to say, “You are a failure. You will be called a coward when you get home. You raised all those Mormon boys to join the army, then you sneak off home.” I knew what I was going to get, and when I got to my tent, I was so bitter that I threw my cap and my saddle brown belt on the cot. I clinched my fists and I shook them at heaven. I said, “How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?” I was as bitter as gall.
And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, “I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.” The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness and my bitterness. While kneeling there I heard a song being sung in an adjoining tent. A number of Mormon boys met regularly every Tuesday night. I usually met with them. We would sit on the floor and have a Mutual Improvement Association. As I was kneeling there, praying for forgiveness, I heard their voices singing:
"It may not be on the mountain height
Or over the stormy sea;
It may not be at the battle's front
My Lord will have need of me;
But if, by a still, small voice he calls
To paths that I do not know,
I'll answer, dear Lord, with my hand in thine:
I'll go where you want me to go."
(Hymns, no. 75)
I arose from my knees a humble man. And now, almost fifty years later, I look up to him and say, “Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.” I see now that it was wise that I should not become a general at that time, because if I had I would have been senior officer of all western Canada, with a lifelong, handsome salary, a place to live, and a pension when I’m no good any longer, but I would have raised my six daughters and two sons in army barracks. They would no doubt have married out of the Church, and I think I would not have amounted to anything. I haven’t amounted to very much as it is, but I have done better than I would have done if the Lord had let me go the way I wanted to go.
I wanted to tell you that oft-repeated story because there are many of you who are going to have some very difficult experiences: disappointment, heartbreak, bereavement, defeat. You are going to be tested and tried to prove what you are made of. I just want you to know that if you don’t get what you think you ought to get, remember, “God is the gardener here. He knows what he wants you to be.” Submit yourselves to his will. Be worthy of his blessings, and you will get his blessings.
~ Hugh B. Brown
I have a testimony of this. Heavenly Father wants us to be happy. To do that, we may have to give up something we may think the the best thing for us but, something better is on the way and we just don't see it....yet. Heavenly Father puts his will before us, and for us to follow it, we sometimes have to get hurt. But he always makes up for that hurt or trial we go through with blessings. I know this is true. He wants us to be happy. Remember, our sadness can be the way to our eternal happiness if we let it.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
A Pirates Life For Me
"Its a pirate's life for me, eh savvy?"
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