That's What Makes Me Beautiful

Real talk: I have spent a lot of my life feeling like I was no where near the picture of beauty. I never never considered myself to be anything special. I was riddled with insecurities and tried to avoid them by hiding behind good grades in school, keeping super busy, and not being social so that I wouldn't have to come face to face with my significant lack of self-confidence.

At age 22 I decided to go on a mission. I received my mission call to the Utah Salt Lake City Temple Square Mission. What was initial excitement turned to pure horror less than an hour after opening my call. Nearly ever person I told about my mission call always had a comment about how they only send the Pretty Sisters to Temple Square (to this day that comment makes me feel super uncomfortable). I'm embarrassed to say that each time someone said this I felt like they were taking a long hard look at my outer shell, evaluating what they saw, and trying to figure out why I of all people got called to Temple Square (which is definitely not what you should be concerned about going on a mission). I weirdly felt like I had something to prove.

Proverbs 31 is my mantra and my sister loving made me this print for my birthday. I loved what it said, but it really took this experience for me to start to understand what it was saying.

30 Favour is deceitful, and ^abeauty is vain: but a woman that ^bfeareth the Lord, she shall be praised.

I started praying really hard that I could become this woman. I prayed hard that my inner beauty would shine through my outer shell and that is what people would see. I could change the stuff on the inside. I could improve and become a God-fearing woman. As I started to pray for these things I started to live more true to the guidance in Proverbs 3. It didn't happen immediately but over time I started to believe that I was beautiful, both inside and out because I started seeing myself the way God saw me. Suddenly it was okay that I had imperfections and maybe a long way to go. My confidence started to grow because I didn't have to prove anything to anyone else.  The only person that I am worried about pleasing these days is God because that's what makes me beautiful.

Love is the Key to Suffering

“If vulnerability and pain are the price of love, then joy is it's reward.” 

― Fiona Givens, The God Who Weeps

I honestly think that the hardest thing to do is to love. Not the act of loving itself... oh no, that is one of my very favourite things. What is terrible is that loving comes at a cost. The cost is that you must open the door to pain and suffering.

In the Book of Mormon, Jacob 5 tells a parable of the olive trees. This parable goes on for pages and pages, mostly repeating the same process the Lord of the vineyard takes trying to save each and every tree. Even when past attempts fail he continues to try new ways and different methods, however, some of the olive trees are still lost and with each loss or challenge the Lord says that it grieveth him to lose the tree. But what he says next is heartbreaking,

 41 And it came to pass that the Lord of the vineyard wept, and said unto the servant: ^aWhat could I have done more for my vineyard?

(Jacob 5:41)

This past year my title of Sister has returned as I have had the blessing of teaching a class of 17-18 year olds in an early morning seminary class. I know that I am completely inadequate to teach this class. I am not always organized, I am young and lack a lot of life experience. I am not always eloquent in speaking and am not sure how to get the heart of the message into the hearts of the students. Sometimes I have no idea how to handle situations or how to help each child. But I do know that this responsibility was given to me from my Heavenly Father and that He can make up all that I lack. I also know that although there are many things I can't do, I can love them unconditionally, and that is something I can be very good at. 

Regardless of how hard I try or how much love I give, there are still some students who stop coming. There are still those who dislike seminary all together. There are still days that I feel like I have not fulfilled my responsibilities as a teacher. To spell it out sometimes it is really heartbreaking to care.

Sometimes I feel that I give and I give and I try my hardest, but at the end of the day I go home, weep and wonder, "What could I have done more for my vineyard?"

The easiest solution to this problem is simple. Stop Loving. Stop loving the students, stop loving teaching, stop loving all the things I am learning, and quite simply, Stop Loving the Lord. (Yikes, that sounds terrible even as I type it, but it is because I love the Lord so much that I have to do all the other things.) Love is really what causes me to feel the pain, so by eliminating love, in theory I could eliminate the pain.... But it is also love that opens the door to finding joy I couldn't even imagine and I can't bear to eliminate that.

Teaching seminary this year has been an answer to my prayers. I have felt a greater need to live worthy of the spirit so that I can be an example to my students and teach with the spirit. It has given my life greater purpose and something to look forward to each day. There were some promptings I had from the spirit that I only had courage to follow because I would want my students to do the same. It has given me the tiniest glimpse into how God must feel about his children (I sure do love my seminary Kids). Most of all I have learned that loving is always worth the pain because in tandem with the pain, I have experienced the greatest JOY! Joy that I am sure I would not have felt any other way. Also, through my suffering I have drawn even closer to the Savior, which is always a blessing. I have learned and grown and been able to make changes that (hopefully) will make me better.

The last thing I have to say is very important. Love opens the door to suffering, but the love of the Lord closes it. Because our Savior loves us he suffered beyond all measure. But it is because of this very same sacrifice that all the pain we feel because we love can be healed and taken away and all we are left with is the reward of Joy and copious amounts of love in our hearts!

Is loving hard? Very. But is it worth it? Always.

Call me Sister

This blog is about to take a turn to my next calling as sister, but before then I wanted to share this overview from my experience as a Sister Missionary!

What I wish I knew 13 Months ago

When I started my mission I thought I knew best. I thought that I had righteous desires and was a good person, and so I expected a certain type of mission. I was going to work harder than any missionary before and I was going to have a way with work and speak with a power that no one could deny that what I was saying was true. I would go from home-to-home fearlessly proclaiming what I knew to be true and no storm would be too great for me to continue. Because I was so obedient and willing, everything would be flawless for a year and a half.  

Frustration came when my mission was nothing like I expected it to be. I had visa issues in the beginning delaying my Mission Training Experience and I found myself in the small town where my Mom was born and raised and I had no idea why I was there. I had to miss some very precious and special family events and I was a little distraught that God would make me wait a year and a half (when nothing of particular importance happened) to go on a mission, only to leave when I was needed most at home! I experience some unanticipated and extremely trying challenges that almost took me completely out of the game. I worked very hard day in and day out finding very little success until I worked myself to a point where I couldn't work at all. The good things in life seemed to be torn from me while at the same time I was bombarded with everything  wrong. It all seemed so out of my control and I fought it. This was surely NOT what the Lord intended for a mission to be and I would continue to try and make it what I thought He wanted. I was supposed to be His greatest asset and yet nothing was going the way it was SUPPOSED to. 

Here comes a life changing lesson...

God does not need me..... He needs me to need Him.

I had wasted so much time to be exactly what I thought He needed, while He was lovingly blessing me with exactly what I actually needed. All the things I thought were failures and were evidence of His discontent with me were in fact perfectly orchestrated blessings and lessons from on high. He always intended it to turn out the way it did. No matter how hard I worked or prayed for a good job after graduating from college it never came because He knew that if it did I would chose that over this amazing opportunity to share the Gospel. He knew I needed to start my mission in Raymond so that I would help to develop relationships with family draw my eternal family a little closer. He knew that I needed to miss important events at home so I could remember that I loved Him first. He gave me experiences that would drive my roots to sink deeper and I could learn to cling to Him in the storm.

Looking back I wish I had not fought His will and plan for me.

I have loved my time in the Mesa Arizona Mission! I feel at home here and a real sense of belonging. I have been changed by this place and the people I have met here and I never want it to end.

Erica's Baptism

In my heart I wish that I could finish my mission here in Arizona. In my head it makes sense that I stay and I would love for that to happen... but deep in my spirit I feel that the Lord is calling me somewhere else for a deep purpose that I do not yet understand.

... It is time I stopped fighting it and go with a willing heart!

This picture may seem strange, but I think it accurately depicts Arizona for me.

The Mormon on your doorstep...

I have hit a wall. 

It seems there are no words to accurately express the message I so desperately want the world to hear. I think my desperation may be making me harsh and intense and abrupt in a way that I have not intended.

The other day I found myself writing a blog post. I wanted it to be bold and for people to see how much all of this matters to me... isn't the opposition bold too?... but in the end it seemed to come across as proud and in-your-face and 100% not what I intended it to be. 

The truth is I want to write something that means something to someone. Something of impact. Something worth reading. Not because I think my words are of any importance. No, my thoughts and opinions are nothing to talk about. It is the message I have found and the way that it has changed me that I am trying to get across, and yet I fear good intentions have turned to an awful desperation, and for that I apologize.

The picture above was taken on a day amidst all of the craziness of life when I let myself let go of my apprehension and reason and I trusted the unseen power of the wind to hold me up. 

This was a moment of pure joy.

In the last 24 hours I have realized that I have been trying to build up my self importance, rather than letting go or my apprehension and reason and trusting the will and the unseen power of the Lord. This is where my pure joy lies -in letting go and letting him take over. Here goes...

I am sure there are many people who have a story, or have heard a story about two missionaries standing on their doorstep. At times the story ends with a slamming door, other times with a polite decline, and sometimes the door remains closed for whatever reason.

Have you ever thought about the missionary standing on the other side of the door?

I can't speak for all missionaries, but I will do my best to articulate myself. 

I get nervous every time I knock on a door, never knowing who I might find or how I will be received. I don't mean to be a hassle or an annoyance. Sometimes I grow slightly embarrassed knowing that I have knocked on a door several times before and the homeowner avoided us, and yet here I am again as if I didn't catch the hint. But for some reason I just can't let it go...

Maybe it was because I spent a year and a half paying off student loans and saving money so I could be in a financial situation where I could afford to drop everything for 18 months. Maybe it is because I gave up an educational dream to fulfill another.A few months back I was working hard as a missionary while the rest of my family was in Hawaii to see my Sister marry her wonderful husband. You could not pay me enough to miss my Sister's wedding. My heart sank as I thought about how this would be an event I could never get back. 

When the door opens sometimes I feel as awkward and uncomfortable as I look. Just a young girl who has little life experience and little expertise. I am not pretending to be someone with all the answers. There is still so much that I don't understand. By no means am I "a saint". I have so many weaknesses sometimes it makes me sick. The missionary on the other side of your door is probably homesick, nervous, tired, imperfect, uncomfortable, and has sacrificed many things she loved to be there.

None of these are good enough reasons for me NOT to be there.

Standing on this doorstep was more than a passing thought. It was more than a mere urge. No, there was much more involved than that. 

The Savior Jesus Christ gave His life for all men. Joseph Smith and countless others gave their lives to help this message to go forth... who am I to think that my life is worth more than that? I sincerely know how much this Gospel can bless lives. I know how it can fill an empty void. I know how it can provide stability and support in an unstable world. I know that God loves all his children and in an effort to become more like Christ, I want to know what it is like to completely give a part of my life for someone else. 

I guess the reason that I keep coming back is out of love. My love for God and His son Jesus Christ, their love for me, and our love for the person on the other side of the door.

Breakdown

Once upon a time I was much younger and had not a care in the world...

 One weekend my sister and I decided to go on a roadtrip to the mountains. The plan went like this. She would pick me up from work in our old 1994 Toyota Camry and we would drive to our Grandparents house to stay the night. The next day would be spent in the mountains admiring God's creations before heading home.

As luck would have it, when we stopped in a small town to fill up on gas the car decided to stop working. The car wasn't turning over. In fact, it wasn't doing anything at all. Naturally we both started laughing and when we couldn't find the problem on our own we called a mechanic. He came and literally started hitting something under the hood until the car started. With the caution that we needed to be careful as to not get stranded in the middle of nowhere, we took off again to Grandma and Grandpa's house leaving the mechanic behind.

We made it to our grandparent's house without a problem, but when we tried to start the car again we had the same problem as before. That night we debated whether we should still make the trip to the mountains or not, because although we were young and dumb, we weren't stupid.

We resolved to ask Grandpa.

Grandpa was a farmer. I don't know much about farming, but I am almost positive that he was one of the best. If there was anything he knew it was how to make things grow and how to bring old things back to life. Well, Grandpa came out and took a look at the car. He played around with a few things and the next thing we knew the car was purring as if nothing had happened....  Yet, I was still skeptical. Grandpa seemed to have confidence that we would make it, but I was a worrier and extremely risk-averse and was not about to get stranded in the mountains. As far as I was concerned we were staying put and definitely not going anywhere. It was then that something unexpected happened. My older and wiser Sister asked my Grandpa to say a prayer. He did. I don't remember what he said, but I remember thinking, "I don't know anyone with more faith than Grandpa. If Grandpa asks God to help us make it safely, and if he has the faith that we will be okay, we will. "

I didn't trust my own prayers or my own faith, but I trusted Grandpa's because I knew he was a man of God with the faith to move mountains. Long story short(er), we made it to our destination and the rest of the weekend was blissfully  uneventful.

 I have never forgotten this experience. I remember wishing I had enough faith that I could pray we would be okay and believe it. But I was so grateful that I could rely on Grandpa's faith enough to help me get to my destination. As the true farmer he was, grandpa cultivated my little tiny seed of faith with his own, believing it would grow. Since that time I have learned that the faith doesn't always manifest itself in the asking- More often it manifests itself in the believing.

I now have a destination much further than the mountains. There have been a lot more breakdown's on this road, and there are times when I fear continuing on because of the chance of yet another breakdown. I am so grateful that even though I don't know how everything will turn out, I can trust in the promise of our Savior Jesus Christ that He will fix what once was broken and we can make it to our destination, if we trust in him and let him cultivate our little seed of faith.

 

I love the word's from THIS talk by Elder Jeffrey R. Holland, 

"What was once a tiny seed of belief for me has grown into the tree of life, so if your faith is a little tested in this or any season, I invite you to lean on mine."

I know that what I have told you is true. Although I might not have faith as great as Grandpa Anderson or Elder Holland, I still invite you to lean on mine until you grow the faith to support others!

The Perfect Experiment

There was a time in my life I thought I had to be perfect.... why? Let me tell you.

As you all know, I believe in a Heavenly Father, and his son Jesus Christ. Because I believe in them I study the scriptures and pray to come closer to them. In my studies I came across all of THESE scriptures.

One that really stuck with me was 2 Corinthians 13:11

"... Be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace; and the love of God and peace will be with you" 

After reading this scripture I had this theory that I had to be perfect. It seemed natural to develop this hypothesis:

 If I was perfect, then I was good enough for God's love, and I could have peace in life. 

This sounds like a pretty sound hypothesis to me. And everyone knows that when you develop a good hypothesis, the next step is to test it. .... So that is exactly what I did. 

I did pretty well for a few minutes. Maybe even hours. I was pretty darn perfect. I think I might have even made it to the end of the night. Nice. Then the next morning I slept through my alarm. 

AHHH, well I guess that I blew it for today, so I will start again tomorrow. The next day I made it to the mirror and took a look..... ZIT? WHAT???....Well, I guess I will wait a few days until that clears up. In a few days I would start again and then boom.... Only 98% on my math test? AHHH, come on! Again - I am going to be the very best violinist ever... I played the wrong note on the last page of that 20 page concerto???? Seriously? You have really outdone yourself this time! I AM HORRIBLE. I keep being sooo imperfect. No one can love me. I don't even love me.

.. Basically this all continued for the next 10 years. Sometimes I would do really well for a while. I could get the best grades. I could graduate a year early. I could be in the school musical and have a job and be on the academic committee and take violin lessons, all without breaking a sweat. and then I would make a mistake so I would have to start over. I found I was starting over and over and over again every day, sometimes even several times a day. Not only that, but I found that the more I was starting over and being imperfect, the less I felt loved by God, and the more unhappy and unsettled I felt in life. 

Based on the data, I had proved my hypothesis... the only way God could love me was if I were perfect.... and according to my experimentation, I was not perfect. Therefore, God could not love me because I was not perfect. Right?

WRONG!

As far as I can tell, there are two methods of achieving perfection:

Option number one- Never ever ever make any kind of mistake. No bad thoughts. Straight A's. Complete charity for everyone, all the time. Never speeding. Always making the right choices. 

What I didn't realize when I began this experiment is that I had messed up being perfect a long time ago, and option number one was no longer an option at all. 

Option Number two- Try really hard to be the best that I can be, but then believing that there is a way that all the mistakes I make in the process can be forgiven, and not only that, undone and gone from my past. 

There was one variable that I had missed when this experiment began. I forgot about the Atonement of my Savior Jesus Christ- the greatest symbol of God's love for me. Yes, I loved the Lord through this all, but I denied him from helping me UNTIL I was perfect on my own. And it was going to be a long time until that happened. BUT....

If I let the Atonement of Jesus Christ be a part of my experiment, then I would be accepting God's love for me. It is as simple as that. The Love was always there, but I wasn't accepting it because I was trying to be perfect on my own. 

If I try my best to be perfect and have faith that the Atonement of Jesus Christ will make up for everything else, then I will be perfect. If I am perfect through Christ, then I will feel God's love and peace.