Saturday, June 16, 2012

That One Time When I Stood Up To Two (probable) Attackers To Defend My Baby

Yesterday Michelle, Luke and I were at my parent's house alone. Someone knocked. Michelle looked out the peep-hole.

Me: "Who is it?"
Her: "I dunno. A big, Mexican guy. I don't know him."
Me:"Don't answer it."

Already you must ask. Was this interaction racist?
Firstly, if the guy had been large and white, would Michelle have referenced his race at all? Would she have said "I dunno. A big, white guy. I don't know him." No. She probably would have said, "I dunno. Some big dude. I don't know him." Now, I don't know that that necessarily implies racism. I think if Michelle and I were black (and let's face it, we've both got an inner, fabulous black girl) and a strange white person had knocked on the door, we would have undoubtedly referenced his race. HOWEVER; the underlying fear I had in the pit of my stomach...was THAT racism? Or was it just stranger danger made more prominent on accounta the helpless baby child that I am sworn to protect?

Let's explore the issue further:
A moment passes. The man rattles the gate again. (Fun fact, our doorbell is broken and we keep our front gate locked so as to keep strangers at a distance when we answer the door. It becomes a problem that people can't knock. Or ring a bell. Or in any other way signal their desire to converse with the dwelling's inhabitants.) He rattles again. Michelle and I both look at each other with a, "I wish he'd go away, he's making me nervous" face.

Then....he yells. "Is anybody home??"
"What the crap?" I say, traipsing with my baby over to the peep-hole. I peer out. I'm shocked and worried to discover that he has removed the fake, plastic rock that offers an aesthetically pleasing cover for the myriad of wires and other such uglies that sit in the front yard. That's when I notice there are two of them, and they're rummaging through the wires and such.
"What the crap?" I repeat. And I fling the door open, my heart beating a million miles a minute as I cling tightly onto my helpless baby child.
They look up, surprised. They stutter and seem ashamed for some reason.
Me: "Um. Can I help you?"
Them: "Yeah. Uh. Your...the man...your dad? The guy who lives here...he wanted us to do the yard."
In my mind: 'We have gardeners already. Why would my dad have hired new ones? The old ones were here yesterday. I'm so confused. These guys are totally ripping us off right now. I have no idea what to do in this situation. They're probably going to ask to come in and I'll have to let them because I don't know how to say no. Then, they're going to steal Luke. I can't let that happen! I must DO something! I must say no! I mustn't let them rape me! I need to say something, I've been standing here thinking for about 5 minutes now in complete silence!'
Them: "Uh. Can we talk to him?"
In my mind: 'Crap. He's not home. I don't want to TELL them he's not home...then they'll know there is no man here and there are two of them and they're big guys and we're all helpless and female-like. They will undoubtedly force their way in through the metal gate -undoubtedly they have the strength of Herculean gods and will merely pry the bars apart. However, if I tell them my dad will be home in five minutes, they will come back in five minutes. And he won't be back in five minutes. But I can't tell them that. They'll steal Luke! I must stop them! I mustn't let them rape me! Crap. I need to say something, I've been standing here in silence again.'
Me: "Uh."
Them: *Awkward shuffle*
In my mind: 'I should probably figure out if they're imposters. I have a fool-proof way to decide. Ha! At last I know what to say. And I will sound intimidating and fierce and assertive and I'll probably scare the pants off of them.'
Me: "Um. Whatcha doin' with that rock?"
Them: "Oh. We''s the...the sprinklers. We're supposed to fix the sprinklers."
Michelle: "Oh did mention that the other day. Here, I'll give you his number so you can call him."

And then they fixed our sprinklers.
And I felt stupid.
And a little racist.
And a little like a fierce mama lion; ready and willing to protect her youngling by any means necessary.

Wednesday, June 13, 2012


We should be able to tell the people we love what we're thinking, even if we're wrong, without being afraid that it will alter the amount they love us. My husband has a theory that you can tell anyone anything if you say it in the right way. Part of me agrees with this and the other part disagrees. Sometimes, the truth is hard to hear but sometimes we have to be told what the truth is anyway. Hearing the truth come from someone who you consider to be 'beneath you' would be even harder than hearing the truth come directly from God or a parent or a leader...but it's still the truth. Even if it comes in a somewhat humbling form, the responsibility to recognize truth regardless of the package it is delivered in, is ours.

There are so many things I'd like to say to so many people I love, but I feel conflicted between my desire to pound the truth into their skulls and my desire to keep them in my life without changing the nature of our relationship. Though the circumstances for each of these people differ greatly, the heart of the truth that I'd gladly scream off of rooftops if I thought that would change any opinions is this:

The Church of Jesus Christ has been restored. It is on the Earth today in its fullness. God lives! He hears and answers prayers. He loves ALL of His children. Jesus Christ is the Savior of the world. He lived and died for us because He loves us more than we can possibly imagine. He doesn't just love the 'good' parts...He loves ALL of you! He wants you to be with Him. He wants you to return. Heavenly Father commissioned Christ to create a path for us to follow that will lead us back to Him. Thanks to modern day revelation, we know what that path is. There is one church, one baptism and one God. It doesn't matter what you believe...this is the reality: The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints is His church restored on the Earth today. The Book of Mormon is a true book that was written by ancient prophets. It testifies of Christ and tells of His visit to the American continent after His crucifixion. The church is true. The people aren't perfect, but God, who leads and directs His church IS perfect. He will work out all the kinks. And He loves you.

You can't possibly begin to imagine how much He loves you.

What a beautiful thing to believe. Why wouldn't you want to?

Monday, June 4, 2012

True Love

I am in love with love.

Not being in love, not falling in love...I am in love with true love.

I just read an article that blew my mind. Many people probably thought it was about same-sex attraction and I will admit that it was an underlying theme, but no. It was about true love. My mind was blown in about seven different directions. I feel like I understand what true love is more deeply then I ever, ever have. I want to shout this quote from rooftops and make people understand what it means:

“I think so many people rely on their hormones and/or their emotions to drive them that they get stuck feeling for their spouse whatever those things tell them to feel. And then if they try to feel otherwise, to love their spouse more than what hormones or emotions tell them to, they feel like they’re doing their spouse a favor rather than recognizing that they hadn’t understood how to truly love in the first place.


True love is not connected to hormones. Hormones are just a nice little bonus that Heavenly Father gave us to help us enjoy falling in and being in love. But hormones, while nice, are temporal attributes of love. True love -the kind of love that Heavenly Father feels for us, the kind that Christ exemplified every day of His earthly life- is eternal. It is Celestial. It is spiritual.

This article absolutely, positively changed my life and the way I view love. I highly recommend it. Here's the link: