I've seen 2009, people...and she looks DIVINE

The Christensen Family has a tradition of a Mexican Fiesta on NYE.

And well, we had said Mexican Fiesta (which btw, is going to someday be the thing that "my guy" says upon first experiencing it, "Shut up! I get YOU AND killer mexican cuisine? How DID I get so lucky?") tonight.

SO, because we had the fiesta tonight (since I'll be flying home tomorrow night...sober pilots, thank you very much...I've flown New Years morning before...not so smart...) I say that makes right now 2009 for me.

Yes, I've started 2009 and I can't even tell you how good she looks (and yes, I said "she"...for some reason this year of all years is a girl. I don't know why. Just trust me on that one).

I was reflecting tonight on what a great year '08 was.
It really was.
I went to Orcas.
I sold my house.
I finished my masters.
I healed my heart.
It was a really great and important and significant year....not without it's rough stuff FOR SURE...but great.

And 2009?

I know it's going to be full of it's challenges
and its hyperventilating moments...
and times when I want to quit my job (happened tonight, ironically enough)...
wondering how a nice girl like me ended up in a life like this...

BUT, for the most part...
It is going to be the best year yet.

I stumbled across this gem on Sunday...Phillipians 1.
And my catch phrase for '09?

"According to my earnest expectation and my hope..." (vrs. 20)

MY EARNEST EXPECTATION
MY HOPE

Don't you love the sound of that?
I love Paul.
I love his poetic words.
I love his enthusiasm for life.
I love his courage.
And I'm ready to have the same.

I have no grand goals that can be spoken.
I'm not listing things I will and won't do.
I'm just going to live the life God has planned for me.

I know it's only minutes into my "new year" (it's the new year SOMEWHERE, right?), but I am already filled with this amazing hope...the hope because of my earnest expectation.
It's just around this corner...I feel it.

Welcome to 2009.
I can't wait for you to get here too.

Happy New Year!

Always. Eventually.

God always keeps His promises.
God always answers prayers.
God always reveals the truth.

Always.
Always.
Always.
Eventually.

Sometimes I get caught up in the "always" part of life.
Truth is always truth.
God's promises are always sure.
Peace always comes.
Answers are always given.

But, the problem with the "always" is that it's too often connected with our mortal minds and our earthly understanding.
In other words,
Always = right now.

And, sometimes that can mess with a girl's head.

About 18 months ago, I begged...quite literally...for the Lord to show me more clearly. My little heart was broken...quite literally...and nothing about it made any sense to me. Nothing at all.

And, so, all I could do was trust.

Trust that God was aware of every bit of what had happened and had even directed my part in it.
Trust that my path was meant to go in a different direction and something else was waiting for me.
Trust that I would see His hand in all of it and understand His purpose for me.
Trust that it would all work out the way it needed to and that eventually I would see "things as they really are, and of things as they really will be" (Jacob 4:13).

Well, eventually came.
Just last week.
And the details are not important.
And what I specifically discovered doesn't matter.

I believe the principle is the key.
It's eternal.
And I think it happens more often than we realize.

From one of my all-time favorite sermons:
"[Jesus Christ] knows that for the faithful, things will be made right soon enough. He is a King; He speaks for the crown; He knows what can be promised."

He knows always
what we will see eventually.

Trust that.

Seriously, what more DO you want?

I finally got home late Christmas Eve and waiting for me at the airport was...
Isaac:and Hannah:. That would have been enough for me, but Isaac had made this:And I laughed when I read this:And said a "can I get an 'amen'?" when I read this: (nevermind that I don't have that number anymore...have I trained this kid well or what?!)

I don't know what more "my Mr. Guy" wants. But, for me right now?

Yeah, I don't want anything more than...

-singing Christmas carols with my mom's "Lawrence Welk" style piano playing and my dad's harmony...even on "Frosty"

-discovering that Heather's frostbite peppermint oatmeal cookies are even more evil with peppermint ice cream (and seeing she loved them even more than I did!)

-knowing that even though the guy at the post office said my package couldn't make it to David's family in 24 hours, it did

-loving Holly staying a little longer so we could play Mormom Bridge

-sighing with relief at the realization this morning that I just didn't have to do a single thing today.

This is a break I need with family I love.
I couldn't want for more.
(at least not for the rest of the year...)

I'm not the only person at the airport tonight

Hmmm.
Did Rudolph get sick?Did Donner and Blitzen stage a walk out?Is he looking for a cheaper way to travel? Did he get the Southwest "wanna getaway" fare?

OR....
Did he get his work done early and now he's trying to catch a direct flight back to the North Pole?

All I know is if Santa gets out of here before my delayed flight gets out of here, I will NOT be happy.

Merry Christmas!

God hath made me to laugh...

so that all that hear will laugh with me."
(Genesis 21:6)

When I was young (about the age of this picture...how cute is this little munchkin? & yes that patch on my sleeve says "I like you"), my family was gathered for family prayer. As my Dad began that prayer, I got the giggles. No explanation. I just got them.
Dad invited me to leave the room.
And he started praying again.

Then my two older sisters started giggling.
Dad invited them to leave the room.
And he started praying again.

Then, as he and my mother knelt for FAMILY prayer, I remember the three of us girls standing out in the entry way. And THEN, my MOTHER...my mature mother...started giggling.
Dad invited her to leave the room.
And Dad had family prayer all by himself.

I still laugh about that.
It's a classic Christensen story.
And a classic "Laurel giggles at inappropriate times" story.

It happened throughout my school years.
I was sent out of the classroom many times to "get control" of myself.
It never worked.
I just had to "ride it out", so to speak.

In the Missionary Training Center, I had a teacher who had to ask me to leave the classroom because of my unexplained case of the giggles. And so I went out into the hall. But the thought that I, a nearly 22 year old mature girl was in the hall at the MTC because I was giggling, only made me giggle harder.

Imagine the giggles that ensued when another teacher came out into the hall to tell me I needed to go back into my classroom because my giggles were disturbing the other class. I laughed loud and hard. There was nothing feminine or "sister missionary" about it.

I'm still embarrassed about that.
But, also still laughing.

On my mission, while kneeling in prayer with a family, I peaked to see why my companion was praying with hesitance. I saw the family dog, who had made his way into the circle, kneeling in front of her, panting, about 6 inches from her face.

I lost it...with laughter...in the middle of the family prayer.
The father made it perfectly clear what a horrible example I had set for his children.
We were not invited back.
I still laugh about that.

My problem is that when I start to laugh at a time that I know I shouldn't, it just makes me laugh harder...the kind where you keep it in...afraid to breath for the sudden outburst of laughter that might be released...

But, then your head starts to hurt from holding it in...and you can tell that now, because of the "keeping in", you've actually made the outburst MUCH worse...more intense...and then you can feel it coming...welling up and you know there is absolutely positively NOTHING you can do to stop it. The tears are coming as the laughter tries to escape from anyplace it can.

If you were threatened with damnation in that very moment, you STILL couldn't stop it.

It happened last night.
In the middle of a prayer.
I thought I was going to explode...

And I did.
My eyes cried.
I laughed loud and hard.
I ALMOST made it to the "Amen".
Almost.

It's a thing I fear, actually.
I never know when it's going to hit.
And when it hits I have no control.

If it was a seizure or something, people would feel sorry for me and understand.
But, when it's a fit of laughter...
Well, then you're just immature and you feel like you're 6 years old.
It's embarrassing.

So today at Church, when I was reflecting on it and checking in with the Lord to make sure He really wasn't mad at me over this little weakness of mine....
Well, I thought of Sarah.

And I realized that...
"GOD hath made me to laugh,
so that all that hear will laugh with me."

Just remember that next time you're with me during one of these episodes.
And "laugh with me", will you?

(btw, when WAS the last time you laughed with me?
WITH me, Erin Fast, not AT me...)

Just call me MAS-TAH

It's official.

I have a M.A. in Communications Management from St. Louis treasure Webster University. And since I'm a St. Louis treasure...well, it was a perfect match (sorry, couldn't resist...I walked right into that one.)

I started this journey a little more than three years ago because I didn't love my job and frankly, I didn't love my life...

I wanted options.

Then I wrangled my "love him like a brother" cousin Jake to join me. Shortly after, I got a great opportunity at work and school seemed less necessary...but I had wrangled Jake...and so I stuck with it.

I really kind of didn't think I'd finish.

But, it feels good to be done.
It feels good to have finished what I started.
And it feels good to be a little smarter than I was before.

In 1999, President Gordon B. Hinckley said, "Education is the key which will unlock the door of opportunity for you. It is worth sacrificing for…Take advantage of every educational opportunity that you can possibly afford".

I can absolutely say it was worth it.

I joked that I would make people call me "Master Laurel" when I was done. But, I've decided there's nothing funny about it.

This is no joke.
That's my new name.
Don't wear it out.

You're welcome, Mr. You

It was a great snowy morning today.
Lots and lots of snow.

And in the snow (oh, I love snow), some sunshine.

I pulled up to a traffic light and noticed a very cool car to my right. And a fairly nice looking guy in his 30's at the wheel. I thought I saw him look over at me but assumed I was mistaken.

But, I looked over.

And he mouthed something to me.

"Marry Me."?
"You are hot."?
"I've been looking for you everywhere. Where have you been all my life?"?

I couldn't tell.
And so I rolled down my passenger window.
He did the same.
(well, it was HIS driver side window, but the flow just was better saying "he did the same", even though he technically didn't...it's all about the flow, you know.)

"What did you say?" I asked.

"You're right," he told me.
"Life really is good, isn't it?"

"Yep, it sure is," I exclaimed.

"Thanks for the reminder," he said as he drove away.
I don't know his name and I didn't get to say "you're welcome".

I get teased a lot for my silly affirmation license plate.
It says LYFSGUD.
(That's "Life's good" for those of you trying to figure that out.)
Truth be told, I got the car the summer of '07 after my little heart got broken. And life was anything BUT.
And the plate was cheaper than therapy.
And so I tested out the theory that if you tell yourself something long enough, you'll eventually start to believe it.

And it worked.

And once you really believe something...
REALLY believe it...
It IS.

Now, I do not mean to say that everything in my life is perfect.
Are there things I would change?
Sure.
Are there things I wish were different?
Yep.
Do I have room for improvement?
Uh-huh.
But will life get even better?
Absolutely.

After my traffic light "encounter", I went over to KSL to tape a radio program (it will air Sunday) and when asked what my resolutions were for 2009, I said something akin to:
"I don't have any.* I'm not going to have any. I'm just excited for 2009. I feel like I'm getting ready to meet a new friend. And I want to just enjoy it."

Life's good.
It is.
Thank YOU for appreciating it, Mr. You.
And for reminding me to appreciate it too.

(*okay, so I might have a couple of "objectives"...but...)

The song that never ends...

I kind of felt like Grad School wouldn't either. But it did. It ended...(well, no news so far about revisions, so I'm taking that as a good sign...)

And, so, in honor of that, I share this:
(WARNING: I am REALLY loud on here...which is so uncharacteristic of me...but check out the kids...and Peter, back left, who is completely uninterested at first and then enjoys the silly-ness that IS "aunt laurel". I'll be mature one day.
Oh, and yes, when my brother and I are together, we really are this obnoxious--love you, David!).

Special thanks to Erin Fast who taught me this song back in college. I now pass it along to others for the good of all humanity.

(PS I FINALLY figured out how to upload videos on this here blogger thing, so you are in for some real entertainment now...)

Just because? On a Tuesday?

Me thinks this is how crushes get started.

What I've learned in the last 72+ hours

- if you were basically couped up last weekend icing your back because you did something dumb, don't shovel snow the next weekend.

- Brian Stokes Mitchell is the most unbelievable singer I think I've ever encountered and I love him. I really really love him.

- When it's upsetting that one of your favorite 39 year old great male friends betroths himself to a 25 year old, going out with someone in the middle of their ages (a 32 year old) totally makes you feel better.

- If you talk long enough and are funny enough and the police officer is cool enough like Officer Millett, you can totally talk your way out of a speeding ticket (rather humorous video coming soon).

- DeAnn Hansen is the best "make up a story" commenter there is. John Hilton III made an admirable attempt and came in 2nd place (but thinking Stokes was on "The Fresh Prince of BelAir" earned the biggest laugh...). Prizes TBA

- Three dates are not necessarily better than two dates in the same weekend. But it feels good knowing you could have had three dates.

- Ed Hermann is an amazing storyteller and I love "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day" more now than ever before.

- I like men and I want to meet more of them.

- There is something intrinsically (did I spell that right?) good...and safe...about ice cream...there is so much more I could say about that but it would require me to divulge information you probably don't want to know.

- It feels good to get asked out on date #2 in the middle of date #1.

- You have ten days in the state of Utah to change your address on your drivers license. It costs $40 if you don't do it.

- I had a dream about a runny nose. I'm totally intrigued by that.

- I have great hair...I do.

- My street looks so picturesque after a snow storm...and it makes me feel calm.

And the best thing I've learned in the last 72 hours?
I have amazingly supportive family and friends
AND
With the help of the Lord, I really can do all things.

I finished my thesis.
I might have to make some revisions before December 18th,
but technically I am done.
It's been a significant three years...

And it feels SOOOOOOOOOO good to have them behind me.

Good things are ahead...
just around that corner I see before me.

All in just a couple of hours

I took a little break from my writing today
and THIS is what happened....





The commenter who most closely guesses what REALLY happened...or most creatively suggests what MIGHT have happened, will win the prize to beat all prizes.

Only me, people...
Only me.

Best. Mom. Ever?

Now, let's be clear.
If this was a post about MY mother, there would be no "?".
If this were a post about any of the moms I know, there would be an "s".

But this post isn't about any of those women.
Nope.
This post is about me.

(yes, I know I should technically be working on my tantilizing thesis, but it's the Sabbath and I just got a copy of my Church membership record and it says, "All Children of Christensen, Laurel Ann: No Children". And I thought, Ouch. Couldn't they have put "Haven't come yet." or "Still waiting." or "Soon to be the luckiest children ever."? And so, really, I had no choice but to blog.)

When all of my family was out here for Grandpa's funeral, my brother David and his family stayed for a couple extra days and I got to enjoy having them in my home on the Sabbath. And I decided to take advantage of the opportunity by proving my amazing mom skills.

And so....
We made Halloween sugar cookies.
The biggest cookies ever.
I colored the frosting for them.(you need to know that this is David's oldest, Mark, or you won't fully appreciate the rest of the story.)
They ate as much as they wanted as no other adults were allowed to participate (well, except Karen came in to take come pictures) or opinionate (did I just make that word up?)
The kids loved it.And of course they did.
I was the best. mom. ever.

Okay, so MAYBE they were all so sick that they couldn't eat the carameled apples I also made.
And MAYBE Mark threw up so much on the way back to Virginia the next day (on the way to the airport, at the airport, on the planes) that the kid even had dry heaves for several hours (you can see it starting in his eyes, can't you?).

Best.
Aunt Laurel.
Ever?
(my apologies again to David & Karen...but seriously...what a memory, eh?)

Really, Mr. Fortune Cookie? REALLY?

Right after I got hired at my current place of employment, I went to lunch with some of my new co-workers. I think it was my second day of work...you know...first week...when you're still looking for validation and needing just a kick of self-confidence.

We went for chinese.
And got the typical complimentary fortune cookie.
I opened mine.
All these year and I've never forgotten it.
Well, you don't forget "fortunes" like this.
It said (and I quote):

You struggle for self-improvement and it shows.

I'm not kidding.
Now, I'm sure the original CHINESE translation said:
Laurel, we can really tell you work hard to always better yourself and we, the people of China, congratulate you.

But, in English all I read was "yeah, you're a girl who really struggles."

And, well, I've had a "love/hate" relationship with those concoctions of sugar & flour ever since.

I've gotten some good fortunes.
Like once on a date, I opened one to say:
Stop looking for happiness. It's sitting right next to you.

But, well...let's just say that for the most part, I've seen mostly UN-fortunes in my cookies.

I am working on my thesis...
really more of a "capstone research project".
And spending every waking hour either with work or school.
So, it's been hard to feel like I have a life.

But, I have a date next week...and actually two if I can fit the other in.
Now, that should not be news.
But these aren't "set ups".
These are legit.

So, when I stopped at Pei Wei (gotta love the cheap version of PF Changs. I highly recommend going for the Ginger Broccoli w/ Beef (ask them to cook it crispy), brown rice) for some thesis-writing sustenance and opened my fortune cookie, and it said (and I quote):

A tantalizing new prospect will come your way.

YOWZERS!
Well, it was like the fortune cookie and I came together again.
We let bygones be bygones.
I mean, the cookie said "tantalizing" for crying out loud!
That's good, right?
Do you know the definition?
Let's take a vote right now.
All who think "tantalizing" is generally a good thing, say "aye".

The definition reads (and I quote):
Tan-ta-lize [tan-tl-ahyz]
–verb (used with object), -lized, -liz⋅ing.
to torment with, or as if with, the sight of something desired but out of reach; tease by arousing expectations that are repeatedly disappointed.

Yeah, just go ahead and read that again.

Really, Mr. Fortune Cookie?
Really?
You didn't learn your lesson with the "you really struggle" cookie back in the day?

And that, my friends, is why we will be finding time for ONLY ONE date next week.
Just one.
Lest we get "tantalized" twice.
(is it just me or is my life funny?)

And now, back to the thesis...
and the "tantalizing" masters degree.

(Life is good...I'll just be glad when Dec. 15th has come and gone with a turned in paper and maybe a great date or two as well...PS. the book IS finished. Thanks for the "you can do it"s. You people are WAY better than fortune cookies!)

Happy Blogger-versary!

Today I hit my year mark blogging.
I laugh that I mocked people who blog.
And now I blog blog.

In my first blogging year:
I've been called a feminist.
I got set apart to be married.
I discovered Princess #4.
I celebrated my first kiss.
I uncovered a different kind of resurrection.
I was in the presence of some pretty amazing people.
I got "called out" from the pulpit for being childless (remember that classic?)
I found Jesus at the end of a 5K.
I damned the devil.
Orcas Island. Enough said.
I moved. I'm still not sure how that all happened.
I filled a whole in my heart..

It's been a great journey.
And now I need to take a little break to finish up the book that is overdue...
AND I HAVE to finish my thesis.
Hilarious graduation ceremony (just for me & Jake) depends on it.

Leave a "Happy Blogger-versary" comment and I'll add you to the invite list.
(come on, humor me.)

I'll be back soon!

The Jimmy B's of the world

Do we remember Jimmy B?
Do we remember Erin's comment/prediction that "maybe he is still single out there somewhere"?
Well, my friends, we have found him.
And...HE IS.

I just reconnected with Jimmy B on facebook (yes, the 3rd party application). How much do we love that?
I've been sharing the story when I speak to young women...and I even included it in the book I'm FINALLY finishing. I finished that part tonight and when I was done, I was just wishing I knew where he was.

I've wanted to thank him for his little 13-yr-old-self that made such a lasting impression on me.

And tonight, I got my chance to say "THANK YOU".
There is something very sweet about that for me.

I typed in his name to the facebook search.
A much bigger/older guy (than I remember) in Indiana was the only match.
I sent a message asking if he by chance went to South Oldham Middle School in the 80's.

He replied with this:
Hold on...I'm grabbing the old yearbook! Holy Crap! I remember you! I just found where you wrote in my yearbook! How have you been? Where are you now? What's up?

I briefly told him the story (that I was sure he wouldn't remember) and how now, unbeknownst to him, thousands of teenage girls all over have heard about his heroic act and applauded & cheered for his name.
I just thought he should know.
(and yes, I totally think we'll get married now. Would that make a great story or what!?!)

It's "Thank You" week.
If there is a "Jimmy B" in your life, will you try and track him down?
Make sure he/she knows what they did when you were 8...or 12...or a nerdy 13 yr old with a bad short perm and braces and leg-warmers that didn't match your outfit...impacted you...blessed you...saved you...
The Jimmy B's of the world deserve to know.

Tonight was one of the sweetest "thank you"s I've ever been able to express.

(oh, but I didn't tell him "I heart you"...that stays just between us girls...at least for now...)

Together Again

I had a yummy belated birthday lunch today with Flicka. She's been in my life since 1988 and I'm so ridiculously grateful for her. The Lord has used her a gazillion times when he's needed to send me a message. We don't get nearly as much "face time" as we used to (getting married and being a mom will do that to you...HER, not me...) but she never fails to leave a voicemail when I need it. She always knows what I need.

It was good to be together again.

Tonight I had a commitment to attend a dinner. As I was getting ready, I was wishing I had someone to go with me. I opened my jewelry box and saw a bracelet that I got from my Grandma Christensen years ago. I was thinking how tonight was the kind of thing Grandpa loved to hear about. I've been missing him. I've been missing her.
And so, I decided to take Grandma along with me.
I wore her bracelet.

One of my all-time favorite people arrived to the dinner shortly after I did. I showed her my bracelet.
"I thought Grandma would get a kick out of being here tonight."
Virginia pointed to her pearl broach. "This is my mother's. She's here too."
"They are together again!" we squeeled with delight.

You see, Louise Nebeker Christensen(my grandma) and Marjorie Pay Hinckley (Virginia's mom) were good friends growing up. REALLY good friends. (Sister Hinckley is in the center front. My grandma is on the far right.)

And these girls remained really good, get together once a month for lunch friends, throughout their lives.(My grandma is on the left. You can't miss Sister Hinckley, can you?)

I remember several years ago after my Grandma's major stroke, I was at the house with her alone. Grandma couldn't speak yet.
The phone rang.
I answered it.
It was Sister Hinckley. She asked how grandma was.
I started to cry.
She said, "Tell Louise I'm on the phone and that I love her." I walked over and knelt down by Grandma (who still wasn't very responsive) and said, "Grandma, it's Marjorie. She wants you to know she loves you." Grandma looked at me and tried to smile, wanted to speak (and tried to say something) and then started to cry.
I knelt there and held Grandma's hand.
She was frustrated; I could tell.
But grateful her friend had called; I could tell.
She knew she was loved.
It's one of my most treasured memories with my grandma.

Marjorie was Grandma's Flicka.

And so there was just something really sweet tonight thinking that in some little way they had a little reunion tonight. Their paths have crossed again on earth because Virginia and I are connected.

And I couldn't help but feel Grandma (and thus Grandpa) near.
And be truly grateful.
We were together again.

Fruity pebbles, milk and a little bit of honesty

I was leaving Paradise with one of my favorite people tonight. I needed some tomato soup...and I needed to talk. Happily she needed to talk too.

We had a night of really talking...being honest...sharing "issues". I like her because she says things like "You're so 'together' and so it's weird for me to find out you have issues too." I like that she thinks I'm "so together".

(I once had a boy who said he liked me because it was refreshing to meet a girl without issues. Note to all boys: all girls have issues. If you think they don't, they just haven't been honest enough yet. Can I get an "amen", sisters?)

It feels good to be honest with people.
It feels good to just be "real".
It feels good.

On the way out to the car, a young kid (how pathetic that a young guy in his early 20's is a "young kid" to me) approached.

"Hey, I was just wondering if you had...I'm just headed down to Smith's and I wanted to buy some Fruity Pebbles and some milk."

"You want Fruity Pebbles?"

"Yeah."

"Really? Fruity Pebbles? Why?"

"I'm just in the mood for Fruity Pebbles."

"What do you do? What's your story?"

"I'm homeless."

"And you want Fruity Pebbles?"

"Yeah. I'm not asking for money or anything...I just want some Fruity Pebbles."

There was just something refreshing about the homeless kid wanting Fruity Pebbles and saying it. He didn't have to share a sad story (though he probably had one). He just wanted some of those yummy colored high fructose corn syrup krispies. And who can blame him? That high fructose corn syrup can be addicting.

I'm such a sucker for honesty. Really. You know that guy who sometimes stands downtown with a "I'll be honest. I'm going to buy beer with your money" sign? Yeah, sometimes I want to give him money because at least he's being honest. I just really appreciate honesty.

Don't get me wrong. I can stretch the truth as good as the next guy if it makes a story better (the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, Dad.)but for the most part, I get physically ill if I'm less than honest with someone...even if I didn't actually lie, but I used the truth in such a way as to make them think something different than what is really true...I feel sick and almost always end up confessing and setting things straight.

Because honesty feels good.
"Real" feels good.

And if you're honest, I'll give you a dollar.
My little contribution to the Fruity Pebbles and milk fund.
Just to show how much I appreciate a little bit of honesty.

BB Lesson #3: unplug to get recharged

I didn't really experience the "eery quiet" until Sunday. And "eery" probably isn't a fair word.
Disturbing?
Awkward?
Needed?

Needed.

The Wednesday after my Grandpa died, I had a little breakdown. Frankly, it was a long time coming. I had been feeling overwhelmed by my life and so when it hit, it poured. It happened at work (which is always unfortunate) and when I left the office early and finally had a minute alone, I said out loud (and just assumed God was listening), "I don't know how to do everything You want me to be doing right now." I must have said that half a dozen times through the tears.

And then I felt like He said,
"I'm not asking you to do it all."

WHAT?
But, You HAVE to be.
Otherwise...

You see, part of what keeps me going during the frantic hectic times in my life is this belief deep down that I'm living the life I'm supposed to be living. I have this long list of things I'm involved in and they all seem important and good. If HE wants me doing all of them, surely He'll provide a way for me to do that.

But, if He doesn't...

So the last few weeks I've been thinking about this from time to time but of course, haven't had time to breathe because of all the things I'm doing (oh, the irony).

Until Sunday.

Sunday was just nothing but quiet once I got back from Phoenix.
I couldn't call anyone.
No one could call me.
And I was left with my thoughts.

Could it be that I stay busy to fill a void in my life?

Yeah, could be.

And I know that I AM involved in a lot of good things.
And right now, truly, I can't imagine what I'd give up.

But, when I realized I was "unplugged" from my life because of my BlackBerry crash, the world didn't end. Time didn't stand still.

But, I did.

I stood still and looked at everything I'm doing.
And while a lot of it is good.
And much of it is better.
How much of it is best?

Something about getting unplugged from my life...just for 24 hours...cleared away the frantic pace and in that needed quiet, I got recharged.

I don't know what I'm going to do yet.

I don't know how to give less time to a job I feel so passionate about.
I don't know how to let up on a masters degree when I'm a thesis & 5 weeks away from completion.
I don't know how to say I'm not going to finish a book when I've committed to finish it.
I don't know how to turn down an assignment on a Church committee I feel I'm supposed to be a part of.
I don't feel right about saying "no" when I'm asked to speak somewhere if I can make a difference.

But, I DO know that I've chosen this life for myself.
And there's probably something about this busy-ness that I must like because I keep choosing it over and over and over again.

And if He is really not asking me to do it all, then I need to figure out what part of all of it I'm REALLY meant to do...where He really needs me...and how much of it I'm doing just for ME...my ego (because I'm sure I have one)...my need to be needed (because I do)...my attempt to fill the void (because there is).

(Was that too much? Was my mic on?)

I think I need to make some changes.
It might sound counter intuitive, but getting unplugged helped me get recharged.
I just needed some quiet to figure it out.

Yet another lesson from the BB crash.
(and, yes, this is the last one...for now.)

BB Lesson #2: the danger of 3rd party applications

On Friday night my BlackBerry crash in the middle of my event was a huge big deal (because your phone is literally how you run the event...it's how you talk to your AV team...the facility people...your team coordinator...the presenters).

Because it had happened twice before (within a week, thank you very much), I knew the drill: Pull the battery out. Count to 10. Insert battery. Wah-lah!

But, this time.
Nothing.
I had nothing.
Just a blank screen with an error message.
I couldn't even get the menu.
Just this: "Incompatible or corrupt system."

I was pretty frustated (cute kind tall black AV guy, notwithstanding).
And so I prayed.

I told Heavenly Father what was going on (in case He was busy focusing on someone else and hadn't seen it), explained why it was such a problem (in case He really didn't understand), told Him what I needed (in case He needed to hear me say it) and then pleaded for His help.

I took out the battery.
Counted to 10.
Put it back in.

Nothing.

So, I tried it again.
This time I told Heavenly Father that I KNEW He could fix my phone. I told Him how much I needed a miracle...I told Him I knew it WOULD be a miracle. And because I was speaking the next day, I even threw in a "think of the impact for those girls if I can tell them about this miracle? that even something seeminly unimportant...because it was important to me was important to YOU...and You fixed my phone."

I took out the battery.
Counted to 10.
Put it back in.

Nothing.

I was feeling pretty discouraged at this point and talked to cute kind tall black AV guy (CKTBAVG) a little more. He tried to help but we just couldn't do anything to fix it.

And then for some reason the story of Mary Fielding came to my mind. I had always heard the story of the pioneer woman who prayed over a sick ox and it was healed (though a quick lds.org search has a different version of the story. And a google search found a truly needed talk. PhD in Mormon Women History Reeder, can you confirm?)

ANYWAY, the point being that I really truly had this moment where I believed I could ask God to heal, literally heal, my phone. I found a quiet place where I could pray and asked Him for this miracle. I even told Him I would keep it just between us, if necessary. I just SO needed this miracle. It was important to me...to the success of the event...I pleaded. And I just KNEW He could grant it.

But, this time, I waited.
Because I knew I couldn't really handle Him not doing it.
Not this time.
Not again.

I took out the battery.
Counted to like 100.
Put it back in.

And...

When I got back to my room that night, I was pretty discouraged. 90 minutes on a tech support line produced nothing. But, when I told the guy about the error message, he said, "The only thing that would produce that kind of message would be a 3rd party application."

"WHAT?"

"A 3rd party application. Something that wasn't on the phone when you got it...you would have had to install it on your own."

He tried to help.
I finally went to bed.
I knew it was going to be a long morning.
And I was just frustrated and tired and still sufferring from my BPPV.

I got to the event and CKTBAVG had brought a much needed cable in one last attempt to help. We tried. He really tried hard. And nothing. Again. But, how sweet is this? He gave me his personal cell for me to use all day (yes, I love him.)

We started the event. And during the first presentation, I was trying to clear my thoughts and preparing for my own message. I heard John Hilton III (who I also love, but in a different way)talking about scriptures and where we spend our time...and in the middle of it all, I had an awakening.

You see, shortly after getting my BlackBerry, I chose to install the Facebook Mobile Application (i.e. a "3rd party application"). Before it installed, I read some warning about it not being officially authorized...might cause problems...they weren't liable... I even remember seeing that someone on Facebook said they had to uninstall it on their BB because the application crashed his device. But, surely, I was different, right? So I put it on and a few weeks later, the phone crashed.
I synced it up again.
I put facebook mobile on AGAIN.
A few days later, the phone crashed.
I syned it up again.
I put facebook mobile on AGAIN...
and 24 hours later, it crashed...again...on Friday night.

And then the spirit taught me something that I then went out and taught the girls:

Sometimes we allow "3rd party applications" into our life...things that aren't part of us to begin with. We choose to let them in, or "install" them. Sometimes they even come with a warning of sorts. And we might get warnings from others. But we think it doesn't apply to us. Surely we are different. Surely we will be okay.

But, here's the thing. ANY "3rd party application" that we install will create interference in our ability to communicate with our Father in Heaven. And sometimes, once we've let it in, even though He CAN fix everything and make it right, He won't. There are natural consequences to our choices and when there is a lesson we need to learn, He allows those natural consequences...even when it's inconvenient...even when we plead for it to be otherwise...to take their course.

He CAN fix it because He's God.
But, sometimes He WON'T fix it for the same reason.

I have a few "3rd party applications" in my life.
I've let them in.
I've let them stay.
The longer I live with them, the shorter the time between the "crashes", it seems.

And now, it's time to uninstall.

I made a promise to those girls on Saturday...and to my Father in Heaven...that I would do just that. I invited them to do the same.

Because, there are dangers in 3rd party applications.
Though God never stops talking to us, 3rd party applications can cause interference...and frustration...and discouragement...so that we can't hear Him.

And just like we choose to install those things in our lives, we have to choose to uninstall them too.

Just one more thing I've learned from my BB crash.

BB lesson #1: God's line is always open

It's almost an eery quiet when you're cut off from the world.
But in that quiet, a few lessons from the BlackBerry Crash of 2008 have been born.
(I know that makes it sound dramatic, but I am a third child.)

Seriously, I don't even remember life before my cell phone. I hate to admit that. I remember that I didn't have one, though, until I got hired at Deseret Book (May 1998, can you even believe that?).

That means that I went through all of college, my mission, a move to Hartford...all of it without a cell phone. That means if someone wanted to talk to me, they had to know where I physically was and they had to know the number for that location. If I wanted to talk, I had to find a phone. (am I getting close to saying I walked to school uphill both ways in the snow?)

My dad travelled most of his working life (he just retired and that is another post for another day). He and my mom had to schedule times to talk. "I'll be at this hotel at this number and I'll be in my room by 8." Can you imagine? How inconvenient!

I'm kind of fascinated realizing how inconvenient it is to not be able to pick up a phone and talk (and when I moved, I decided to do away with a landline once and for all and so I don't even have a home phone). Really. I've taken it for granted. Because, right now there are people I'd like to talk to and I can't. And I just don't like it one little bit.(TAMMY: I CANNOT BELIEVE YOU ARE HAVING A GIRL? WAHOOOO!)

Technology has changed the way we live and interact and talk. And so now, in many ways, it has control over our very ability to communicate...at least the speed at which we can.

It occurred to me last night, as I knelt to pray, how blessed we are that technology has not impacted our communication with God. And it never will.

It's amazing to consider that with all of the advances in civilization and all of the attempts man has made to make life easier and communication faster, man has not been able to do anything to change or advance our communication with God.
Man has not.
And man cannot.

It's a simple truth, I realize.
But, in a changing world, I'm grateful to know that while I might be cut off from voice to voice communication today, my ability...my privilege to communicate with God has never changed. It never will change.

Other communication lines might close but God's line is always open.

Just one little thing I've learned from my BB crash.

Hello, bandwagon. My name's Laurel.

I've discovered a new delightful blog from a woman I would so make go to lunch with me...if she didn't think that made me a stalker.

And so I'm going to do it too...
ONE WORD.

Where is your mobile phone? "time out".
Where is your significant other? missing
Your hair color? purchased
Your mother? loyal
Your father? retired
One favorite thing? Gospel
Your dream last night? over
Your dream goal? family
The room you're in? airport
Your hobby? writing (hmmm...I never actually knew that until just now)
Your fear? darkness
Where do you want to be in 6 years? on-plan
Where were you last night? phoenix
What you're not? liberal
One of your wish list items? (see #2)
Where you grew up? mom's-side
The last thing you did? blog
What are you wearing? clothes
Your TV? antennae
Your pets? none
Your computer? here
Your mood? calm
Missing someone? absolutely
Your car? CX-7
Something you're not wearing? frown
Favorite drink? H2O
Your summer? Orcas
Love someone? completely
Your favorite color? blue
When was the last time you laughed? today
When was the last time you cried? yesterday

Now for the lessons of the BlackBerry...

Totally out of touch

Completely.
Totally.
And I gotta tell you.
I don't like the way it feels.

I'm out of town.
And I'm out of touch.

It's an interesting paradox to be blessed and cursed by the conveniences of modern technology all at the same time.

I have been "offline" for the past 24 hours. My BlackBerry totally crashed. Crashed and burned. And the thing about a "crashed and burned" BlackBerry (of course they don't mention this when you buy the thing and turn your life over to it) is that you can't just go into a store and replace it. No, they have to send you a new one. But they have to do that on a weekday. Which means I will remain "offline" until Tuesday afternoon.

This is my phone we're talking about.
The only connection I have to my life.
SO convenient to have everything at the touch of my fingertips.
But, now I'd give up the email and facebook and my browser...just to have a phone that works.

If you've tried to call.
If you've sent me a text.
If you've left a voicemail.
(gosh, I hope SOMEONE has)
I'm not ignoring you.
I'm not too busy.
I'm not blowing you off.

I'm just completely and totally out of touch and I don't like it one little bit.
(oh, and I totally want my mommy.)

(Lessons I'm learning...& the amazing event experience I had this weekend inspite of and oh, okay, almost because of my blasted BlackBerry...to come...)

God is even at the airport

Yes, you read that right.
(And I know I've noticed it before.)
He is here.
At least evidence of His love is.

I'm sitting here waiting for my flight to Phoenix (unless you are the guy who broke into my garage, in which case I will be home all weekend with my shotgun) and I can't help but see a few reminders that He loves me...

CHEETOS.
I haven't eaten today really and got a sandwich...and let myself get some cheetos. I love cheetos and I rarely let myself have them. But, Cheetos take me right back to 2nd grade for some reason...my reciprocal crush on Cory (who I loved until I saw him pick his nose during story hour)...Mrs Chinn who called me "honey" all the time (no one had ever called me that before) and everyone knew I was her favorite...For some reason Cheetos+2nd grade=Love.

SOUTHWEST.
Would you believe that I actually just heard a SW gate agent invite all the people on a particular flight to just come up to the gate..."no need to stand in line in your order. I'll just let you board first come, first serve." I thought "wow, what a customer service nightmare"...until...and I'm not kidding...ONE LONE passenger walked up for the flight. He looked around a little perplexed. The gate agent smiled and said, "come on board". Yes...a flight just left SLC for ONE person. How much do you love that? God does A LOT of things for just one...just for me.

MY BPPV.
I've actually meant to blog about this before. I have sufferred from BPPV twice...now three times. I woke up this morning with it again. I'm a little sick to my stomach (thus the comfort food of Cheetos) but I'll be okay until I can get back and get in to see a physical therapist. But, I've talked about it before...being a reminder of how one little thing (in this case a crystal in your semi-circular canal) can throw you off balance. And God has used it today as a reminder of the "one thing" I need to be working on. He loves me enough to tell me. And He's right.

"BYE" kid.
A little boy just got off a flight with his mom and as he passed all of us in the waiting area, he kept saying "bye. bye." to anyone he could make eye contact with. It brought instant smiles to everyone. Sometimes all it takes is a simple little thing like a "hi" (or in this case "bye") to spread the love. I should do that more often.

I'm sure there are more evidences of His love that I could notice.
But, now I need to notice it's nearly time to board.

Just because you can't admit it, doesn't mean it isn't true

I have a hard time admitting I wet the bed until I was 12.
But I did.
(Okay, then there was that one time in college.)

I have a hard time admitting I was in love with the same boy for 11 years.
But I was.
(Yes, Chris...it was 11.)

I have a hard time admitting that I am like the only person on the planet who didn't finish The Book of Mormon by the end of 2005.
But I didn't.
(That one still stings, actually...and I've NEVER admitted that to ANYONE. It's okay if you think less of me now...I totally understand.)


To borrow a scene from my all-time favorite movie:
"I have something to tell you. I didn't vote."
"What?"
"In the last mayoral election, when Rudy Giuliani was running against Ruth Messinger, I went to get a manicure and forgot to vote."
"Since when do you get manicures?"
"Oh, I suppose you could never be with a woman who gets manicures."
"Forget it. It's okay. I forgive you."
"You forgive me."

Um, yeah...
I'm a girl who seriously would consider breaking up with someone who didn't vote.
I'm a judger. I am.
Current events and politics are important to me. They are.
If you don't vote, I think you're dumb.
I'm a girl who votes in those weird elections in June that like only 23% of people participate in.
I'm a girl who's been following this election since the beginning of time.
I donated a portion of the proceeds from the sell of my house the day Palin was announced.
I think 2008 is possibly the most important election in my life-time.

But, apparently when you move, you have to re-register...even if you move within the same county.
Did you know that?
I did not.

But, apparently you can still cast a provisional ballot.
In other words, you simply show a valid photo ID with proof of your new address and they give you a ballot for your new district.
How convenient is that?
But, that would require that you HAVE proof of your new address.
I have a PO BOX.
I throw my utility bill away as soon as I pay it.
I haven't changed my driver's license yet.
Or my checks.

Oh, what? what's that you say?
Why not just drive out to Riverton and just vote out there where I am still registered?
That, my friends is called voter fraud.
And considering my recent run-in with the law, I thought it best I stay away from criminal activity for a while.

So, when you discover all of this at like 7:00 p.m. on election night (yes, mother, I vaguely remember you saying something to me about registering to vote when you were here) and the polls close at 8:00 p.m., it leaves you in a bit of a pickle.

I am in a pickle.
And...
well...
I didn't vote.

And just because I can't admit it, doesn't mean it isn't true.

Oh, the irony.
The bitter bitter irony.

Blast you, Ralph Waldo Emerson

You are always right...

"What lies behind us
and what lies before us
are small matters
compared to what lies within us."

Thanks. I needed that.


(on a completely unrelated topic, I realize I'm one of the few people on the planet who actually think McCain is going to win but I just had to get it in writing before the election. I was right about Palin being chosen for VP three weeks before it was announced and wish I had said so to prove my uncanny ability to foretell the future. Like...I'll be married in 2010...and I'll beat Hatch in his senate re-election in 2012...my father will soon decide to be a greeter for Wal-Mart...and I'm getting a pony for Christmas...like I said, an uncanny ability.)

Halloween & the pursuit of happiness

I have a belief that people are basically good.
And I believe there are more good & honest people in this country than not.

I believe that when given the chance, people will help others.
And when they know that they are needed, they will step up to the challenge.

Last night I needed to run some errands and I also needed to take advantage of my first weekend home in forever. In other words, I had a lot to do (and someday soon I'll write the funny story about the Verizon tech guy who totally got my number...and not just to pull up my account. wink. wink.)

And so, in an effort to support my least favorite holiday (no disrespect to your birthday, miss jamie), I, like any good citizen of the world left a lot of yummy free chocolate on my doorstep.

Yes, you heard me
free yummy chocolate...on my doorstep.
But, not without instructions:And when I got home, I saw that about a third of the candy was gone. I was tempted to bring it back inside and just dish it out like normal people, but decided to try a little experiment.

When given the chance to take as much free candy as a kid wanted to, would they do it? Or would they self-police and leave enough for others?

I'm happy to report that throughout the night, I heard kid after kid, read aloud my request and then appear to obey. There were a few "ahs" (kind of like "dang it") and one group of teenages laughed and probably took a handful.

But, no one stole the bag or dumped the candy into their pillowcase.
In fact, this morning, when I got up, there were FIVE candybars STILL in the bag. I'm not kidding.

FIVE STILL LEFT.

Why?
Because no one was sure who would be the last person and they wanted to leave something for whoever came next.

Why?
Because they could see that there was a limited amount of candybars and they wanted to make sure everyone had the chance to get some.

Why?
Because when people are given the freedom to be fair, they are.

A guy came up to me in the Whole Foods parking lot today and in his granola-ness said, "Lady, could you give me $3.00 so I can take a shower?"

Now, I have no idea why he would need money to take a shower. I don't know where he intended to go. But, I could tell he needed one and he only wanted $3.00 and I had $3.00 to give...and so I did.

Why?
Because I work hard for my money and I like the freedom to choose what to do with it. Sure, a fair amount of my money is already taken in taxes for various and sundry government projects. But, to my knowledge, none of those projects include guaranteeing everyone in America a shower.

And so, if I can help...and it's a legitimate need...I help.

But, what will happen when even more of my money is taken for even more various and sundry government projects? Projects that guarantee every American the "right" to a college education, a car, a house, utilities, retirement, etc., etc., etc.

I'm pretty sure if I knew of a government program that guaranteed my granola friend a shower, and I knew that I was already having a good portion of my money taken away to pay for such project, I'm pretty sure (in fact, I'm certain), I would have clung to those $3. Why? Because I "already gave" and probably would need every dollar I have left all the more.

I believe that when PEOPLE know they are needed because the government isn't taking care of everything, we step up on our own. We take care of each other. We are fair with each other. And when we know there is NOT an unlimited amount of resources, we self-police.

I really believe that.
(is that PollyAnna of me?)

And I just want to know that I'll always have $3 to give every time the guy in the lot asks for it.

That's what "the pursuit of happiness" means to me.
The free market works...
even on Halloween.

Ah, contentment

No time to say all the things I want to share today.
Except that I finally parked my car in the garage again tonight.
And I'm determined to sleep with my lights off.
(had a little break in to my garage & car last week).

I am okay.
I am safe.
I am loved.

And this is quite possibly the best list of anything I've read in a long time from one of my favorite blogger friends.
Contentment.
Thanks, Jennifer.
I owe you.

(and then go read my little/wiser brother's response to my post yesterday. I love that guy!)

Guilty, Your Honor

So, you might remember my little encounter last March and then my follow-up in court.

It would have been nice if that would have been the end of the story.
But, then that would make me someone other than Laurel.

You might remember my re-do in Payson last June that turned into an arrest warrant.

It would have been nice if THAT would have been the end of the story.
But, then that would make me someone other than Laurel.

Apparently, when you sign an abeyance (like I did last April), they take it kind of seriously. And apparently if you violate that abeyance (i.e. if you get a ticket within 6 months after you committed not to), you have to officially appear before the judge.

I got the notice last week that I was to appear today. Yesterday I realized I was way too busy to come to court. So I called to see if I could make it another time.

The woman said (and I almost quote), "Dear, you are appearing before a judge. He sets the schedule. 'Order to show cause' cases are NOT rescheduled."

Wow. She almost made it sound serious.
(That would be because it WAS.)

I don't know what I was thinking...that it would be a casual gathering of citizens eating cookies and having punch? Shooting the breeze with the local elected judge?

I walked into the courtroom and saw before my very eyes a few guys...in jail uniforms...with shackles...actual shackles. Two armed police officers.

I kind of wanted to whisper, "I'm sorry but I think I'm in the wrong place. I'm just the idiot who didn't pay attention to the speed limit. Where's the room for people like me?"

An older gentleman came and sat by me. He appeared to be down on his luck, but smiled and tried to make me feel comfortable.

Said he, "Well, I hope the judge is in a good mood."

"Is he sometimes not?"

"No."

"Should I be worried?"

"What are you in here for?"
(What am I "in here" for? Isn't that what you say to someone once they are officially in the slammer?)

"A speeding ticket...and an arrest warrant..."
(suddenly I'm understanding the "slammer" reference a little more.)

The judge comes in and proceeds to explain the various classes of misdemeanors and then I hear him say that my class (class "B") can carry up to a maximum $1000 fine and/or 180 days in jail.

(I'm sorry. WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY?)

I look around to see if anyone else is freaked out by this news.
No one is.

The judge begins with the guys in the shackles.
It's some serious stuff.
One of the guys is going back to jail.
One of the guys is waiting for his lawyer to show up
(yes, I started thinking I should have had one).
And the other guy is having this charge dismissed because the prosecutor has another more serious charge to discuss.

Then my older gentleman friend gets called up.

His story is so sad.
And he blames it on the bottle.
He pleads with the judge to not send him to jail...
that he's finally getting back on his feet...
he can't lose this job.

60 Days.

The officer walks up behind him and puts handcuffs on.
Older gentleman is being polite and cooperative.
The judge reminds him he's been in and out of trouble and he needs to learn his lesson once and for all.

The officer took the gentleman over to the other "felons" and the old man sits down and starts to cry. It broke my heart and I really wanted to do something but then I realize that I'm still sitting here...I still have to talk to the judge myself.

My name is called and I'll be honest...my heart skips a beat.

I approach the podium.
The judge asks if I understand my rights.
He reads my charge and asks how I plead.

"Guilty, Your Honor."
(WHAT? did those words actually just come out of my mouth? How did I end up here?)

"Is there anything you'd like to say to me before I impose your sentence?" he asks.
("impose my sentence? Where am I? What is this?" Jean Valjean and Les Mis songs start running through my mind.)

"Just that I am so desperately sorry and I can't believe I'm here."

"I'm sure you are. Most people standing where you're standing are."

And the truth was, I was REALLY REALLY sorry.
I had been joking about it all morning at work.
I had even updated my facebook status on my BlackBerry right before the judge came in...like it was cool or something.

But, there I stood.
Guilty.
No excuses.
I messed up and I knew I messed up.
And I was hoping for mercy.

And the chance at a do-over.

There's another little matter in my life where I'm in a similar situation.
And ironically, this very morning not really realizing what lie ahead for me later in the afternoon, I knelt in prayer with a:
"I'm so desperately sorry and I can't believe I'm here."

There I knelt.
Guilty.
No excuses.
I messed up and I knew I messed up.
And I needed His mercy.
It was like I said, "Guilty, Your Honor."

And it was like He told me I could have a do-over.

And happily, that's not the end of my story.

Blessed.

Blessed.
That Monday night, Oct 6th, I went and played Mormon Bridge with my Grandpa, even though I had too much to do and I thought I should be working.Blessed.
That on Thursday, Oct 9th, after I found out my Grandpa sufferred a stroke, the Lord told me absolutely clearly through the power of a Priesthood blessing to "put your family before your work. Rush to the side of your Grandfather and be with him today. The Lord will take care of the rest."Blessed.
That I said everything I needed to say to him while he could still hear me. Then I hopped on a plane to Reno the next morning for our event there. I produced and spoke and had a life altering experience. I felt strong & confident...in Reno. Full circle. Blessed.
That when I woke up on Saturday morning, Oct 11th, the Spirit told me to get on a plane right after the event and go back to SLC. It was not possible to wrap up and close out the event in time to make that flight...but I made that flight. The Lord really did "take care of the rest".Blessed.
That I was able to spend 15 quiet moments with my grandfather's body shortly after his spirit departed this life. He was there. I felt him. As my Dad said to me in between sobs (his and mine), "Do you see how kind the Lord was to you this week to allow you to have Thursday and be here right now?" And I knew he was right. Blessed.
That right before they took Grandpa's body, his children, their spouses, me and my cousin Scott all stood around him and said the "We Are All Here" poem. Those words are forever changed for me after that moment.Blessed.
To have amazing friends who sent flowers, emails, texts, voicemails just reminding me it was going to be okay.Blessed.
That my family was almost all together.Blessed.
That people, some whom I wouldn't have expected to come, came to the viewing and the funeral...just for me. You know who you are...and I love you.Blessed.
For the amazing spirit that permeated every message and song and moment of the funeral. It was a day of gratitude for the privilege of being connected to a legacy of faith and commitment and devotion and kindness.Blessed.
That God, in His infinite wisdom, knew how much I would need Owen Mauss Christensen as my Grandfather. The one man in this life who loved me completely...never said a cross or unkind word to me...never was irritated or annoyed by me...knew I could do ANYTHING...wanted me to be happy...thought I could change the world if I wanted to. Said "Laurel, my girl" every time he saw me. We really did all think we were his favorite. But I absolutely know he loved us all the same.

Blessed.
Truly truly blessed.

(We had our family dinner at Chuck-A-Rama. Grandpa would have been SO proud!)