Something I like

While reading for my New Testament class I came across this verse.

James 5:16
Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.

I really like this scripture. In fact, I love this scripture. I've never read or heard it before, but I believe there is so much truth to this. How can those around us truly, with real faith, pray for us unless we humble ourselves enough to open ourselves up and admit our weaknesses, short comings, and hardships? How can we faithfully pray for others we don't know anything about? I'm not saying we HAVE to know every trial or weakness a person experiences in order to pray for her/him, but knowing would make it even more meaningful. Obviously, in order for this to work, pride needs to be eliminated completely, on both parts. Wow. I really love this scripture.

Silver Lining

Well...this is another post with no pictures. So, if you don't like reading, you can just stop here.

I spent all of my Thanksgiving break STRESSED. I feel like I've never been this stressed in my life. I probably have, but I feel like I haven't. I went home for Thanksgiving, which was fabulous in theory...and somewhat in real life, but because of my nature I spent the entire week having mini freak-outs in my brain. I had a huge paper due in my Persuasion class, a huge project to start for my Persuasion class involving going out into the community, finding a non-profit organization, conducting surveys and making a media kit/grant proposal (with very little time to complete it in the three weeks left after the break) the final project for my Visual Media class due involving programs such as InDesign, Illustrator, and Photoshop, none of which I, or anyone in my family has, two papers due in my Mass Media class, and several articles due in my Journalism class...ALL due this week. Part of my freaking out was due the fact that I was supposed to go on an internship expedition to Phoenix, Arizona...which would last 3 days starting Wednesday at 5:00 a.m. and ending on Friday at 9:00 p.m. All of these things consumed my brain the entire time I was home, and no matter how hard I tried to forget my responsibilities...I could not forget about my stress longer than 30 minutes to an hour.

During this week-long break, several people had the desire to spend time with me. And I had the desire to spend time with these people as well. The thing that won the majority of my attention, however, was my homework. I did get to spend some time with my mom, brother, and sister...participating in our yearly shopping trip down town Portland prior to Thanksgiving. This was tons of fun...but my mind was still plagued with homework worries.

Then, the day before Thanksgiving, as I was hunched over the computer once again, I discovered a little mucus in my throat. Oh goody. A cold. I took vitamins and air born...trying to beat it before it started. Lucky for me it didn't hit too hard on Thanksgiving, allowing me to enjoy the taste of the delicious food my family had prepared. But as the days progressed...it got worse and worse. Finally, yesterday, I realized that my left ear had been throbbing for several hours. YESSSSS...and ear infection! Right in time for me to go to Phoenix to try an impress a bunch of companies and convince them I'm the girl they'll one day want as an intern. RIGHT. Obviously that didn't happen. I couldn't get in to see a doctor until today, who in fact confirmed I have a flaming red ear infection. Is this a blessing or a curse? Well...I'm hoping my teachers will take pity on my because of my illness and I'll receive a few extensions on a few assignments. Specifically my Visual Media assignment that's due today...because it is NOT done.

So, where's the silver lining? Well, I suppose it could be the fact that I MIGHT get extensions for my assignments. But that's not a known fact yet. The silver lining is my roommate, Naomi. Yes, I posted about her before. But seriously, if you have to be sick, having her around makes it bearable. She's a little mom. She'll make dinner for you, go to the store and pick up tissues and medicine for you, and yes, she'll even go out into the FREEZING COLD weather and brush the snow and scrape the ice off of your car so you can drive up to the health clinic instead of having to walk. Yeah...I might have one of the three Nephites as a roommate. Except that she's a girl...hmmmm. Well, all I know is, she's a blessing from Heavenly Father. Seriously. I am going to miss that girl SOOOO much when she goes home this winter.

Saturdays

"As today’s American culture continues to create a sex driven atmosphere, influencing the thoughts and behavior of young people throughout the country, we must keep the safety and needs of our youth at heart..." blah blah blah. What I'd like to know is whatever happened to my Saturdays? Instead of being mine, they've been turned over to the towering piles of school work that supposedly prepare me for my future career.

Saturday is no longer a day of play, but instead I use it as a day to swim to the surface for a few breaths of air only to be shoved back under the water for the next 6 days until the next Saturday rolls around. My lung capacity has expanded, with all the work that seems to come my way Monday through Friday, but no time to complete it during those days. Thus, here I am, at the library, on my ex-play-day to write an extremely intense persuasive paper on the pros and necessity of comprehensive sex education. This topic has consumed my brain for the past...FOREVER. Last Saturday was devoted to researching and writing a 5 page OUTLINE for the debate I had to perform on Monday covering this topic. Today is lovingly devoted to the 2,000-3,000 word paper on the same subject. My outline for this topic alone was over 1,000 words. I'm not too worried about the length of my paper (in all reality, 2,000 words is not that long,) but more about the quality of my writing. I haven't written a complete persuasive/research paper in YEARS. I wouldn't be too terribly worried except for the fact that I really enjoy this class and appreciate the teacher, therefore I want to do my absolute best.

Anywho...there goes my Saturdays from here on out. No more playing for me. Luckily I enjoy writing and hope to do it professionally one day, so I guess I'd better get used to this. :)

Feeling Dad

I don't get to see my dad, but I do get to feel him sometimes. He died September 30th 1993 - 16 years ago. My dad is not a dream; he is not a figment of my imagination. He is a real man and I know him.

Sometimes I compare my dad to Heavenly Father. I was with him once, but as time passes my memories fade. My whole life I have heard, "Crystal, you have the most amazing memory." Wouldn't you...if someone so dear to you suddenly disappeared? I remember lying in bed after he died, going over and over in my mind each unique memory I had of him. Him holding Kayleen and me with one arm as we giggled hysterically while desperately trying to escape from his grasp. Him yelling "BED!!!" and we 3 would run upstairs to his water bed where we magically turned into airplanes on his feet and his knees became a slide. Him shouting "Tickle Monster!!!" and once again we'd giggle and squeal as he chased us through the halls and around the furniture. I remember going on a special trip, just me and dad, while he led the military men and their families on a canoe/camping adventure. I remember waking up in the middle of the night to the sound of my mother shrieking, "Brian! Brian!" and wandering into the room only to behold my strong dad being overcome by tremendous shaking, face blue/purple and tongue badly bitten by his own chomping. I remember when they shaved his head. I remember when he could no longer chase us around, but instead gimped after us with the left side of his body lifeless. I remember his 4-legged cane, and using it as a microphone. I remember practicing for my baptism in our living room-he only had the use of one arm. I remember my baptism, with my dad holding me close to him with one arm while his younger brother supported him from behind as to not let him go down with me. I remember doing flash cards with him and reading the Bible with him. I remember family home evening on the order and language of prayer.

He's not gone. He's still alive. For now, his spirit, but one day he will reunite with his body thanks to the Atonement and Resurrection of our Savior, Jesus Christ. I feel my dad sometimes. I really do. Not often, but he's there. As one of my companions would always say, "Remember the team that surrounds you." My dad is part of that team. I will remember and look forward to the future.

Service

I don't know if I've mentioned this yet, but I have the greatest roommates this semester. I've never had such a diverse, yet calm, mature, and happy group of girls before. My room roommate, Naomi, is a doll. Every day I come home to find some little surprise act of service she's done for me.

One of my favorite sweatshirts is my senior sweatshirt from Westview Highscool, 2003. I wear that thing sooooo much and several months ago the front pocket finally ripped causing it to hang down which kind of made it look like I was wearing a diaper. :) Haha...I'd usually only wear it when I was sick after that happened. But, I'd still wear it none-the-less.

One day, I came home to find this!

Naomi had SEWN the pocket back up! It now looks BRAND NEW...except for the stains it's acquired over the past 6 years. :)

Lately, I haven't had any time to do laundry. Don't worry...I'm staying on top of it with the essentials, BUT some things, take my work clothes for example, get really dirty really easily and it's hard to keep up with them. After spending several hours at the library tonight, I came home to this!


She was HAND washing my work clothes! Oh Naomi Klingler...she's an ANGEL.

Beautiful?

I'm sure most people have seen this before. But it was recently brought to my attention once again in my Mass Media class. We seriously need to stop comparing ourselves with the world and media's idea of "true" beauty.

Word Vomit

Today, in my persuasion class, I made a HUGE fool of myself.

We are often given situations, court cases, "what ifs" and so on and so forth for us as a class to analyze and discuss using the tools we've been taught and given. We are usually broken up into specific groups and have to argue our point logically and then come to a clear, logical conclusion with many facts pointing to that conclusion. Passion and emotion often lend to the convincing process and conclusion, but should not be the leading factors in persuading or coming to a specific conclusion.

Today, we were arguing a true case of a man being sentenced to death for murder in the state of Virginia. This man was an accomplice to another man, and the two of them went into a store, chose a man, followed him to his car, held him at gunpoint in his car and demanded his money. Then, directed him to an ATM at gunpoint, and demanded more money from him. Once they received the money, they drove him out to a field where they shot him 8 times, obviously killing him. The man we were discussing was Atkin. He, from much evidence researched and presented, was determined mildly mentally retarded. His IQ tested to be severely low, and he had a few other social handicaps. He, according to research, had the mental capacity of a 9-12 year old. He also, however, knew what he did was wrong, and doctors testified that he understood the criminal severity of his actions.

So, we were debating weather he should receive the death penalty, my teacher numbered us off, and I ended up in the prosecuting team. We had to prove why he should receive the death penalty. I was frustrated that our side was defeated from the beginning, nor were we given important information we needed to make a good case, such as the mental capacity of the other man involved. The info said nothing about the other man. We also didn't know anything about Atkin's living situation. For example, was he living on his own, did he shop for himself, did he pay bills? We didn't know any of this. We just knew his mental capacity from IQ testing.

Half way through I was so frustrated with the demonstration (especially because the apposing side was treating us as though we firmly believed what we were arguing with their looks and tone, when it was obviously a pretend trial) that I blurted out, "You know, I think it's impossible for us to even try to make a good case when we don't have all of the information available to us. We don't know what the other man involved is like...if he's just as "stupid" or not!" Yes. I said that. The word "stupid" in relation to a mildly mentally retarded man just flew out of my mouth. As I said this word I immediately felt HORRIBLE and like a complete moron, and it was obvious by everyone else's reactions (some laughed, some gasped, some had shocked faces) that they viewed me as an ignorant moron as well. It was the dumbest, worse thing I could say at that time, and my face immediately turned hot and bright red, and I started tripping over my words and finally said, "Now I feel completely stupid." Then my teacher said, "No, keep going, it's ok." And a friend of mine in the class said, "Don't be insecure."

Wow...it was awful. First of all, in NO way do I view people with mental disorders stupid. How that could fly out of my mouth...I'll never know. I know that some say what's deep inside a person will come out under pressure, and it sickens me to think that I would think that. I do NOT think that. The only conclusion I can come up with was how I felt during the moment. I was upset that we were set up to lose and that the class was treating us as though we should be stoned for the position we were holding. When I'm upset, sometimes things happen and the word "stupid" is often used, but this time it was used in a VERY wrong and inappropriate context.

Word vomit. I thought stuff like this doesn't happen in college. I thought embarrassing moments happen in middle school. Am I a late bloomer? I feel awful.