Dear John.

This week I started class again. English, STATS, Humanities, Balancing Work and Family, Arts Symposium, and Consumer in the Market. Yeah...welcome back right? Ah.

Well let me tell you a few things. First, I love to read.

I love it.

I could read all day and deep into the night until my eyelids closed. If I could..that is. That's my problem. When I start a book, there is this part of me that wakes up and never wants to go back to sleep. I can't think straight. I can't focus on...well anything. Sometimes I find myself searching for the characters as I walk through the library, or using phrases straight out of the book at the grocery store or talking with my neighbors.

I am that captivated. It's almost annoying. But not quite.

Which.... is the bad part. Because I can't read. I just mentioned 6 other things that make it impossible for me to read. Well the book of my choice. My humanities chapters or English readings aren't exactly the fascinating and engulfing books I dream about.

However, this week- I could. And I did. I read. I picked up a cheap paperback copy of a book at Sam's Club, and I fell in love.

With reading.

All over again.

I was launched into a world where love happens, and is pure and real. A world filled with gentlemen, and walks on the beach. But also a world filled with real problems, with war, with sadness. Even death. A world of pain, of sorrow, of aching. Aching from the pain of missing someone you are deeply in love with. Fear that someone's life could end with one wrong pull of a trigger. Worry that that someone could be the one you love.

A world of utter confusion making perfect sense.

It's called Dear John. (Now being made into a motion picture)

It's by one of my favorite authors. Nicholas Sparks.

It was unpredictable, heart breaking at times, and healing at others. That's why I love to read. It took me somewhere else. Somewhere that reminded me there are bigger problems in the world. Bigger than getting a class dropped, or not having my book in time. I was no where near Logan. No where near Utah State. School.

I was walking in the sand on Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina. I was sitting on the pier watching the sun set, and noticing all the vacationers around me. I was deep in thought. I was in Germany running drills and loading guns just in case the Russians decided to attack. I was reminded of the terror that struck the nation as 9/11 changed our lives forever.

I was caught in a bittersweet yet amazing story of how "love can transform us in ways we never could have imagined"

For 2 days. And then I was done. But that's another reason I love reading. It changes me. Transforms not only the characters in the book, but it transforms me. And after closing the last crisp page of the epilogue, I layed awake in wonder. In realization.

My heart ached.

And that night I prayed for my cousin- a Sniper fighting in Iraq. And for his fiance who I'm sure worries about his safety Every. Single. Night. I prayed he would be safe when he went back to fight, to serve our country. I prayed he would be brave, and be smart.

But most of all I prayed he would feel love. And know that somewhere in a little town in Logan, someone loves him. And is praying for him. Because that someone is me.

And I will continue to pray for him. Every. Single. Night.

All because of one cheap paperback book from Sam's Club.

A book I will never forget.

"Dear John," the letter read. And with those two words, a heart was broken, and two lives changed forever. "

The Bitter Truth.

I just got home from a small trip. A couple days in St. George. With my family. Which, of course, was just as fun as ever. But before I completely spoil the story, let me give you some background information. Pertaining to the title of this post.

"The Bitter Truth."

Word had been hopping from house to house in my family for weeks, maybe even months up till Christmas. And New Years. It started the day my sister found out they wouldn't be able to make the annual Day-After-Christmas trip up to visit this year. On Doctor's orders of course. (Pretty sure that is the only thing that could ever stop her....) So naturally, she made some phone calls and next thing I know...it's New Years in St. George.

So, there I was, thinking "of course I wanna be with my family- it's always so much fun...but on the other hand, I was kinda thinking I might want to do something with my friends over New Years. I'm sure there will be tons of fun get togethers, or at least a few small party invitations."

Therefore, I very carefully, avoided giving an exact answer whenever my mom would ask. Not that I even knew the answer, I was just waiting. Waiting to see what was going on and if I could possibly bear to miss it....

Finals came and went. The week before Christmas came and went. Even Christmas came and went. And then it was Tuesday. Decemeber 29th. And it finally it dawned on me. New Years Eve was in 2 days. Everyone was packing up and heading out to St George the next day. And still...no word from my friends.

What's going on? Last year was a dilemma because we didn't know how we could possibly make it to each of our friend's parties. And that was only high school. I mean, I am in college now! Doesn't that make me significantly cooler and have significantly more parties to go to, more friends?

HA.

Well to all the high schoolers and young ones out there.....that is a total joke. Somebody's fantasy. Or maybe it's just me? But either way I was both partyless, and planless.

And that is when it revealed itself to me.

That is when I discovered the bitter truth.

I am not in high school anymore. There aren't those random parties you go to just because a friend of a friend told you anyone was invited. (Mind you, these parties I'm talking about would include an ipod playing the newest, most popular pop song, chips and dip, sparkling cider if we were lucky, and maybe even a game of duck-duck-goose? okay okay not that far but you get the point.) It was a realization point. It showed me who my real friends were.

The ones who had made plans with me all along. For weeks, even months leading up to Christmas. The ones who were anticipating my arrival- counting down the days until I'd be there. The ones who called me just to talk. Called me because they wanted so badly to hangout with me, but couldn't because they are far away.

My real friends. My best friends.

Now that brings me back to the current point. I am now home, feeling completely satisfied and thrilled about my New Years. With my family.

We had a pinata...

Lots of laughs....

Along with a yummy lunch at Pirate Island and night with Sherlock Holmes...

So although my "bitter truth" was actually quite funny, it was also rewarding. And once again proved to me how lucky I am to have family. Because I know that since I have family, I will always have friends.

Christmas Changes.

Well, I blew it. I know, I know. I promised to write when I could finally breathe after finals and yet.. I still haven't. I expected my blog to be filled with pictures of Christmas, of family, of...something.

But, don't worry, there is still hope. Because now, I have something I am ready to write about. Something a little different from my other Christmas posts.

Something called change.

Christmas change.

This year I wasn't surrounded by my entire family. A lot were missing.

There was (sadly) only one row of Christmas lights on our house.

I didn't compete in a girls vs. boys gingerbread house making contest.

I didn't make snow angels with my nieces and nephews.

I didn't bake cookies for Santa, or even leave carrots for his reindeer.

I didn't stay up late painting my nails and laughing with my older sisters.

This year was different. This was my first year being the only one who didn't have in-laws to go to (Ahem...not that I was wishing in any way I had somewhere else to be- but it was a little weird being the only single one left...).

It was my first year not picking out and decorating the Christmas tree.

Needless to say, it was a year of firsts.

A year of change.

And, since I vowed to never be anything less than truthful with you, I have to admit it wasn't easy.

I missed those little bits of Christmas magic I didn't get to be a part of this year.

I missed my family.

But some how, some way it was still okay. Christmas still came, and was still just as bright and exciting as ever. Because Christmas isn't just about delicious treats and contests, or bright lights and white snow. It means more.

Christmas is about Christ. About that loley night in Bethlehem. The night our Savior entered the world. And that will never change.

And although I didn't have all my brothers and sisters there, it didn't make the ones who were any less special. In fact, it tripled my gratitude. And as I layed in bed on Christmas Eve, I discovered something important. Something I'd never thought of before.

I'm sure they all would have loved to be here. But I wasn't the only one who wanted them to come home for Christmas.

There was another sister just like me who was excitedly awaiting their arrival.

There was a family of little ones who were so grateful to have their dad home for Christmas.

There was another grandma who was thrilled to see her grandchild.

And I'm pretty sure there were 4 grateful parents who didn't have to pack up half of their life, as well as all their kids to make the trek home. (Which believe me, I would not be excited to do either...)

So yes this Christmas was a little different. But it was just as magical as ever.

There were lights...

Treats..

The nativity...

And moments like this...

Oh yeah...and ones like this...

So when all is said and done...I may not have heard sleigh bells jingling as I layed in bed Christmas Eve, but I was filled with the true magic of Christmas. I was reminded that nothing could ever truly separate me and my family. Especially not at Christmas time. Because no matter where we were, we were united by one thing. And that was the gift of Christ's love. A gift that no one will ever return, one that will always fit, and will continue giving year after year after year.

Not too far from here.

Done. Finished. Through. Accomplished. Overcame. Endured. Survived.

Finals.

I'm not sure how but I did it. Somehow I made it through this treacherous, merciless, completely overwhelming and exhausting week.

A week of coughing, sneezing, headaches, cramps, and infections. A week of too much stress and too little sleep. A week I hope to never live again.

And I am more than relieved. More than overjoyed. More than ecstatic.

I am pooped.

I'm tired and ready to be done being sick. And I'm finally going to make peace again after a long, ruthless fight with my body. I'm surrending. And it actually feels nice to lose this battle.

Now.

Let me tell you a story.

The date was December 9th 2009.

I had been at the library for too long. Much, much too long. How long do you think is too long? 3 hours? 4 hours? 6 hours? HA. Yes, I am laughing.

HA HA HA.

I agree all those are too long. But this story takes place at hour 10.

I had eaten 2 meals, read 120 pages, completed a 10 page study guide, gone to the bathroom 7 + times, and blown my nose at least 40. (No I didn't count but if you don't believe me...ask the series of people sitting near me. I bet they would agree I walked past them a few too many times...)

I was fried. And I wasn't done. I had to make it 2 and a half more hours. And I had 5 more questions to answer. Up until that point, I was okay. I was focused, I was searching for answers, and actually understood what I was reading. I didn't feel stressed or overwhelmed. I didn't feel like I couldn't do it.

But then it hit me. Or rather I hit it. The w a l l.

You know that little lightbulb they always talk about turning on when you think of something really smart, or have a really great idea? Or just pretty much when you are actually using your brain? Yeah well mine was burning real dim. I couldn't focus, I couldn't find the answers, I couldn't understand a single sentence in any paragraph I tried to read. And right then was when every feeling of stress, every thought of self doubt, the headache from the overload of information combined with much too much pressure in my sinuses....hit me. All of it. At once. And it was so overbearing I couldn't even cry. My chest hurt, like I had 20 pounds of books stacked on it. My head was spinning. (I've always heard that phrase used in the movies...but never actually thought it happened. Boy was I wrong. It was spinning in mad circles...)

And I had no mom to give me a hug and tell me "it would all be okay". I had no dad to come up behind me and rub my shoulders and make me laugh. Instead, I had a highlighter. I had a book. And I had my ipod.

I was alone. In the freezing library. Stuck. I didn't have my parents, my sisters, my friends...none of them were there. None of them were there to tell me what to do, or help me make it through.

And that is when I realized what song was playing. What song just happened to come on shuffle on my ipod. And I as I heard these words...

Somebody's down to their last dime
Somebody's running out of time
Not too far from here
Somebody's got nowhere else to go

Somebody needs a little hope
Not too far from here
And I may not know their name
But I'm praying just the same
That You'll use me Lord to wipe away a tear
Cause somebody's crying
Not too far from here
Somebody's troubled and confused
Somebody's got nothing left to lose
Not too far from here
Somebody's forgotten how to trust
Somebody's dying for love
Not too far from here
It may be a stranger's face
But I'm praying for Your grace
To move in me and take away the fear
Cause somebody's hurting
Not too far from here

Help me Lord not to turn away from pain
Help me not to rest while those around me weep
Give me Your strength and compassion
When somebody finds the road of life too steep
Somebody's troubled and confused
Somebody's got nothing left to lose
Not too far from here
Somebody's forgotten how to trust
And somebody's dying for love
Not too far from here
Now I'm letting down my guard
And I'm opening my heart
Help me speak Your love to every needlful ear
Someone is waiting not too far from here

Someone is waiting not too far from here

.... I remembered.

I remembered who was there for me. At times when no one else could be.

I remembered I had God.

I remembered why I am here. I remembered it's not about me. I had been scooped up in this whirlwind of stress and nonstop worry about me. But that's not what I am here for. I came here for Him. To be an instrument in His hands. Just like He came here for me.

At that moment, alone, cold, and overwhelmed in the library, at hour 10, I remembered. And I prayed. And He was there for me.

And that is how I made it. That is how I am here. Right now. Telling a story about someone not too far from here. Because at 10 o'clock, on December 9th, I was that someone. Waiting for Him.

I was the one who needed a little hope. I was the one who was troubled and confused. I was the one that found the roads of life too steep. It was me.

You may be reading this and thinking, "yeah well I don't have finals to study for".

So maybe it's not finals.

Maybe it's that you don't know how you're going to get your kids to school and to lessons, and make dinner and do the other millions of things on your to do list.

Maybe you don't know how you are going to get all your Christmas shopping done.

Or maybe you don't know how to fix a hurting relationship.

Maybe you don't know how to cope with the loss of your loved one.

Maybe you can't bear another day living far from family.

This was just my story. And unfortunately, there was no magic, or handsome princes (although there was a really nice guy sitting at my table....) or glass slippers. But I can tell you one thing. There was a happy ending.

So as you are caught in your own whirlwinds of life, I hope you might remember a story you once read one ordinary day in December.

But even more, I hope you will remember Him...

Especially this holiday season.

The End.