Strong Enough

Today, I finished the last part of my missionary physical, so I only have my dentist appointment left (which is on Tuesday), then my papers will be DONE! It's a crazy feeling, and I can't wait to just submit them and get my call. It doesn't even feel real. Sometimes, I'll be walking to class, doing homework, or trying to fall asleep, and thoughts about where I'm going completely steal my attention. I could go anywhere. Anywhere in the world. It's also just so weird that this is what my life has come to - I'm a freshman at BYU. That's still crazy enough for me. I'm two months away from finishing my freshman year, which is equally unbelievable. And, in just a few short months I'll be leaving my family for 18 months to serve the Lord and His people. What? Me, Michelle Christine Scott. I'll be doing that. You better believe it.

Today, the thing I love about myself is my laugh. It's pretty loud, and sometimes just plain annoying, but I secretly love it. When I laugh, I often apologize to the people around me because I feel like they judge it a little bit (and, let's be honest, sometimes they do). But, I'm not going to do that anymore. Because I love it's loudness. My laugh has been loud for...forever. It's just part of who I am. I like to laugh, and if you get one of my infamous loud laughs, you can bet it's 100% genuine. 

I saw this video today, and it  basically just spoke straight to my soul, so I thought that I would share it.

It's pretty inspiring for me right now with my happiness project. I found a lot of strength in President Eyring's words, and I love when he says "We have the gospel of Jesus Christ to shape and guide our lives if we choose it. We never need feel alone while we are in the Lord's service, because we never are." It's beautiful. And it's true. The gospel is true! Can I get an amen? ..."AMEN!!!"

Heart Healing

For my mission prep class, we are doing a "Happiness Project" to help us prepare for a mission by learning the skills of happiness (that's literally the assignment description on my syllabus).Over the next four weeks, we are supposed to do things every day that will potentially make us happier. I chose three things that I'm going to do for this project:

1. Become more selfless and more willing to serve.

2. Devote myself to my work and do my very best in what I do.

3. See myself as a daughter of God and learn to love myself.

That last one is really where I'm going to put my focus on this project. Each subject that I am focusing on is pretty broad, but I have lists of specific things I'll be doing for the next four weeks that will help me to get better in each of those things. It's really weird for me to say that I love myself - or that I want to, I guess. It's just kind of a weird thing. But I've been told so many times that in order to really love other people, you need to love yourself first. Those words - "I love myself" - encompass so many things. It's going to be an interesting month, that's for sure.

For #3, I decided that everyday, for the next four weeks, I'm going to write in my journal (and my blog, I think) one thing that I love about myself and why. If you didn't know, four weeks is 28 days, so that's 28 things I have to say I love about myself. That's kind of a lot.

I'm going to kick it off today by saying that I love my freckles. They're great because they're like camouflage when I have zits. They're also great because there's so many of them - so many that you might think I was a red-head, but I'm not. I've always liked my freckles because my mom has so many too, and I always wanted to grow up to look like her. Good news: I look like her, and those freckles I had when I was younger are still here :) In fact, they've multiplied. I've got plenty.

Christine

I had the sweetest experience today, but I need to preface it a little bit. Last semester, I used to go to lunch in the cafeteria by myself a few times a week, and I usually just went in, ate, and left as quickly as I could. Every day, though, this lady walked by cleaning tables and sweeping the floor. We would say hello and make small talk, and eventually we introduced ourselves to each other. Her name is Christine, and I think she may have some mental disability - it's not severe, but it's kind of noticeable when you talk to her. A lot of people with mental disabilities work in the Cannon Center during lunch, and they're all so awesome and friendly. I usually didn't talk to many people during my 17-minute lunch break, but after she was comfortable with talking to me, Christine would come over and chat with me for a while. One day she just walked right up to me and started talking to me like we were best friends - she asked me where I'm from, if I like any boys, what I like to do, and what I want to do with my life. That was the day I think we officially became friends, and every day after that she would come up to me without hesitation and tell me all about her life and how her day had been going...we talked about anything and everything. Sometimes I would be in the Cannon Center for almost an hour just chatting with her. It was one of my favorite parts of the day: eating and talking to my new friend. When I came back from winter break for second term, she had gotten a new job. Instead of cleaning up, she now works in one of the kitchens, so she doesn't get to walk around anymore. Our conversations have been shorter since she can't just hang around cleaning the tables around me - she actually has to make food and do all that fun kitchen stuff. Today, I was getting my lunch while she was on her lunch break, so we got to sit together and talk for a little while before she had to get back to work. As I was leaving, she said "Bye Michelle! I love you!" It took me a minute to process what she said, but when I realized what she had said it made me tear up a little bit as I said "I love you too!" It made my day. It's as simple as that. The smile on her face as she waved goodbye to me was one of the sweetest things I've ever seen. I love that sweet lady. 

Secret Prayer

I promise that my next post will be happy and joyful and filled with good things, but that one isn't quite finished yet - it's currently in draft form. I just wanted to talk about poopy things for a minute. It won't last very long.

I miss my family...a lot. I miss Colorado, and I miss the sunshine.

I sometimes just wish that Michael was here. But then I remember he has more important things to do than hang out with me.

I don't get enough sleep, and I think it's taking a toll on me.

Sometimes, all I need is for someone to sit down with me, stare me in the face and say "How are you really, Michelle?"

I need to put a little bit more effort into all of my classes. I need those A's!

I think I'm ready for the cold to leave. I am majorly lacking in vitamin D, and especially lacking in the tanned-skin department.

I'll stop there. I do have one bit of good news that I want to share, and I think it will make up for the list of complaints. This is one of the greatest things that has happened to me in all of my years of schooling. I actually teared up out of pure joy. A few weeks ago, I turned in my first essay in my writing class. It was a personal essay, so it could be about anything we wanted it to be, related to ourselves obviously. I wrote about my experience as a nanny-turned-teacher last summer and my conversion. It's kind of hard to accurately explain without posting the whole essay, but the main point was to compare my experience as a teacher (me teaching Addison math every single day, and really struggling), and my experience as a "student" of the missionaries while I was taking the discussions. I have to admit, it's the best essay I've ever written, and I spent hours on that thing. My teacher graded them, and she wrote all of us letters about what she liked about them and what could be fixed. There were just a few things that she told me I should change, and at the end of the letter she told me that I got the high score in the class. It may not be a huge deal, since it was the first essay and probably the easiest one we'll have all semester, but it was a huge deal to me. In college, so far my academic success has been pretty mediocre and not much to talk about, really. But this is one achievement that I just can't get over! I think I've reread that essay 30 times because of how proud I am of myself. That's kind of obsessive and maybe slightly prideful...but I think I'm okay with it. 96% on my first essay of the semester... I'll take it. :) Here's a little snippet; probably my favorite part. It's the last two paragraphs, so they're out of context, but I think it still makes sense -

"I often tried to imagine how Jesus felt, standing waist-deep in the Jordan River, ready to completely turn his life over to his Father. He was perfect; he didn’t need baptism to prove his worthiness. As I stood before the font – my own personal Jordan River – I was overwhelmed with the realization that I needed this baptism. The steps that descended into the water would be a bridge from my old, beaten-down self, to a clean, transformed self whom I was desperate to meet. After waiting for so long, I finally got the dunking I was waiting for; I was completely submerged, and as I came up, I left my chains of sorrow, pain, and regret in the water, wrapped instead in the arms of mercy. I turned to my teachers, the tears in my eyes mirrored in theirs. Love naturally arises when you serve someone selflessly, with your whole heart. My faithful teachers, in their black name tags and matching ties, knew that better than anyone else; they wore the name of the world’s greatest teacher over their hearts every single day to prove it.

· · ·

For the last days of summer, we left the math book in its cupboard. We celebrated with fishing poles, tire swings, and peanut butter and jelly. During those last days, I took time to see Addison; not as my student, but as my pal that I loved. I noticed the way he held my hand across the street; an expected routine I hadn’t given much thought to before. He always trusted me to lead him safely to the other side. He reached out for my hand, and I was finally there to hold his."

So, there you go. Sometimes I can do well in school. Maybe in this case it was just because I'm pretty good at talking about myself.

Last tidbit of the evening: I'll be listening to hymns while I finish my homework tonight. And I'm going to love every minute of it.

Sea-Level

I really miss my brother. 

I don't really get homesick all that much anymore because there's so much going on here. Today, though, I started to miss my little baby brother a whole lot. I already wrote about him on here once, but I'm going to do it again, #sosueme.

I miss the days, way back when, when we would have sleepovers in his room (he had a bunk bed). We would stay up late looking at his 4-foot-tall 100-Pokemon poster, giving each other hints, playing I Spy and memorizing the numbers of each Pokemon. We have an X Box game of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, and we used to take turns playing it during lunch - one of us would play while the other ate their Campbell's vegetable letter soup. In our old house, we would take all of the cushions off of every couch in the house, and gather up every single pillow from every room, and build mazes for each other. When we were little, it worked. We made some pretty sweet mazes in our maze-making days. There were 3 flights of stairs in our old house, and we would take a sleeping bag and slide-race down the stairs. My dad had this awesome orange glow-in-the-dark ball, and on special nights he would let us stay up late, turn off all of the lights in the house, and pass the ball around. I think that those were some of my very favorite nights. During the summer, my brother and I would sit on my parents bed and eat Italian ice and strawberries and watch Spongebob with our parents. In more recent years, my brother and I would spend entire Saturdays playing co-op Halo, trying to beat the whole game in one day. I don't know if we ever managed that. Once, when my brother was about to get his license, I let him drive me illegally around town, and he took me to a park that overlooks Littleton, and we ran around in the dark looking at the stars and the mountains lit up by the city lights. That was such a good night.

I can't believe how long I've been away from him. I missed his whole soccer season - his first season on varsity. I'm growing up, and he's growing up. We're both growing up. I feel like life is happening so fast. I've already been at school for a whole semester, and when I get back from the second, I'll only have a few months before I'm gone for a year and a half. It scares me to think about how different we'll be after all that time. He's my best friend, and he always will be, so I guess there's not a whole lot to worry about. I just wish I could give him a hug, and spend tomorrow eating chips and salsa, watching Sports Center, and playing Call of Duty.
I just miss him. That's all.

Sunshine

I know that it's only February 7th, but I'm getting so excited for Spring. Maybe a little bit too excited. It made it to the 30's and almost into the 40's a few times this week and last week, and I decided to take out my sandals, which I've been wearing all week. Apparently it's only 32 degrees right now, but the sun is out and it feels so nice outside. Nothing can bring me down today. I'm just happy; just really, really happy.

I also just wanted to say that I have the best friends in the whole world. I can't even explain how blessed I am. I know I'm cheesy, but in all honesty, they're some of the greatest people I know. And I get to see them every day. Every day is fun because of the people I hang out with. We don't even have to be doing anything crazy and exciting; just being with them, doing stupid things, laughing so hard it hurts...we always have fun. I wouldn't trade them or any of the hilarious, weird things we do for anything in the world.

On this beautiful, sunny day, I think I'll be listening to country. All day long. So I'll share just a taste of that beautiful music again.

Side note: I realize that this video is super cheesy and lame, but Keith Urban is my favorite. Forever. So don't judge. Also, I love playing this song when I'm driving, because I always stick my hand out the window while I drive...how adorable. :)

Comfort Food

My favorite comfort food is country music. I know that that's not food, but really. On a bad day, country music is all I need. I guess chocolate is good too.

This song is playing over and over again in my head (maybe because I've been playing it on repeat...). I think it's my new favorite. For now. Plus, I have a secret celeb-crush on my main man Kenny, so it makes it ten times better. 

I wish I could drive with my best pals in Brighton, Colorado with the windows rolled down, right now, with this song turned up all the way. 

Heart Ache #2

I'll be honest with you. Right now, I can think of only three things.

1. Getting my mission call

2. Summer

3. Leaving for my mission

With everyone getting their mission calls, I'm feeling really restless, and every time I think about it I completely lose focus (hence the reason I'm blogging about it in the library rather than studying). Also, my white, sun-deprived skin is craving some vitamin-D. I don't know how much longer I can take the snow and weather in the 20s. I'm losing my mind. I just wish I was in Texas right now. Texas or Colorado or Arizona or California or Maine or somewhere pretty and warm. Spring is almost here, which means my focus will just be completely gone.

When I was in high school, the day after we got back from winter break every year, my friend Kellie and I would start a countdown of the says left until summer. We would write the number on our hand every day and make bucket lists of things we were going to do in the summer. I didn't do it my senior year, though, because the thought of summer filled me with so many emotions I couldn't handle it. As excited as I was to graduate and be done with school, I still got nervous thinking about leaving my friends and family and all of the things I had become so comfortable with over the years. That is exactly how I feel right now: I was basically forced into facing my fears, I came to BYU and moved on from high school and those things I was so used to. Here at BYU, I've become good friends with so many people; I consider some of them the best friends I've ever had. I've come to love living in the dorms, and how simple my day-to-day life is. Everything I need is right at my finger tips, and while the food could better sometimes, there's nothing I would change about it. I can't wait to leave on my mission; I can't wait for all of my friends to leave on theirs. But I am faced again with leaving the familiar. It makes me nervous. And the thought of saying goodbye...I hate it. I will never ever ever be good at that.

Redemption

I post a lot of heavy stuff on this blog. But I think that's okay, because those are the things that matter.

I just want to talk about my dad for a minute. He's a big guy; 6'4", 230 pounds. Before he had surgery over the summer, he weighed 320 pounds. You definitely did not want to cross him. He loves hockey and has a really loud, booming voice. His favorite colors are green and purple (not like Barney -- the good kind of green, and the good kind of purple. You know?) He really likes Jonathan apples and he loves the snow. He acts like he's a really good driver, but he's not really all that great -- understand that this is where I get my road rage, and he's a lot worse. He is so Republican that it's probably unhealthy, and he likes strawberries and grilled ribs. When I was little, he called me Princess and it was my absolute favorite thing in the whole world.

When he was 19, he and his best friend were hit by a car while they were sitting on the side of the road. His friend died instantly, and my dad had to watch the whole thing. His recovery was so long and painful, it wasn't sure for a long time if he would actually be able to fully recover. Ever since then, he has been depressed and has never done anything to help it. This, coupled with the fact that his father emotionally abused him throughout his entire childhood, has made him into a hard, bitter man. He denied God for most of his life. He decided that he was more correct than any "big guy in the sky" could be, and has lived most of his life convinced that there is nothing more to this life than living and dying. He became an alcoholic at some point, and drinking has always been an issue for him, especially within the past few years. It breaks my heart, but I love him. I love him so much, and it's always been my greatest hope that he would just find a way to be happy.

About one year ago, my dad was diagnosed with stage 3 colon cancer. After months of chemo and radiation, he had surgery (mentioned above) in the summer, and has been officially cancer-free ever since then. When he was prescribed pain medication, the doctors allowed him to get too much too often, and he became dependent on intense pain killers. I don't want to call him a drug addict, but it was getting close to that point -- his need for the medication was close to that of an addiction, and it was so strange and scary for me to see him like that. He isn't crazy, I promise. He's just a guy with a lot of pain and problems that have gone unresolved for too long. Not that it really justifies anything, but to me it almost does. He's my daddy.

Last week, he called me at a completely random time to talk. He told me very bluntly that he recently became involved in a group called Narcotics Anonymous, which is apparently similar to AA but the help is more extensive. That fact alone surprised me so much, and I teared up in the middle of the Cannon Center as I was eating with my friends. He went on to tell me that though the group is not strictly Christian, members are required to come to know a "higher power" for support in the process. It took him a long time to finally ask me what he called to ask me because of how emotional he was...My dad, the atheist  asked me over the phone if I would pray for him. When he said those words, I felt like the world stopped moving. I never imagined those words coming out of his mouth. I always hoped that they would, but I never knew what I would do if it ever happened. He told me that he had been praying too, and really trying to come to know if there is a God or not. 

The magnitude of this situation is almost indescribable. I don't know how to express the feelings of happiness I experienced in this moment. I know that my dad will find God. I have faith in him to stop drinking and using pain medications to get through his days. I know that he will be able to be happy once he realizes what really matters in this life. I can't wait for the day that I get a call, or maybe a conversation face to face, when he tells me that he knows God, and that his life has been changed because of that knowledge. I know it will happen.

I love my dad. And I love my Father.