My Spiritual Blinders

After a long and exhausting day I began the drive to Payson, Utah. For some reason I've chosen the LDS temple in this area as my place of refuge. I remember walking through the hallways and rooms of this beautiful building and falling in love with all of the delicate details on the railings and windows. The peace I felt (and still feel) was truly unforgettable.

Whatever was weighing on my mind must have weighed so much that I became completely oblivious to my surroundings. Somewhere in between my troubled thoughts and the words of the song playing on the radio, my blinders came on and I eventually found myself in Santaquin. Annoyed, I got off at the next exit and turned around, headed back to where I had originally intended to go.

It was during one of these times that I had accidentally traveled past my intended destination (which has happened more than it hasn't) that I learned a very valuable lesson: sometimes the things of this world can become so distracting that we easily forget what is the most important, even if we first intended to travel in the right direction.

This isn't the only time these "blinders" have kept me from reaching where I wanted to end up. My week usually starts out with me deciding to be a diligent scripture reader and avid calorie counter. Sometimes I don't even make it to Tuesday when the words of Facebook become more enticing than the words of Isaiah and the peanut m&m's hidden in my bottom drawer break the daily caloric intake limit before noon.

There have been times where even though I knew I wanted to live righteously, breaking a commandment or falling into the temptation of sin became seemingly more attractive than being "honest, true, chaste, benevolent, [and] virtuous..." (The Articles of Faith #13) There have been years where I haven't followed the warning in Alma 34:33 - "And now, as I said unto you before, as ye have had so many witnesses, therefore, I beseech of you that ye do not procrastinate the day of your repentance until the end; for after this day of life, which is given us to prepare for eternity, behold, if we do not improve our time while in this life, then cometh the night of darkness wherein there can be no labor performed."

Thankfully, I always notice that I pass the temple before traveling too much farther. Even though having to turn around is frustrating, I'm still able to go back. Yes, it takes time and in fact, it takes even more time than it would have if I just payed more attention in the first place, but lucky for me, my rubber-flapping-creeper-white-mom-van has the ability to turn around (you can read about the fun adventures of my car by clicking here).

Even when I've felt the darkest, the most alone, frightened, insecure, or hopeless because of something I've done or something I wasn't doing, there has still been the opportunity for me to turn around and go back. Depending on how far off of my intended destination I had allowed myself to travel while wearing those darned blinders, I would still have to travel quite the distance to get back to where I wanted to be, but the beautiful blessing in all of that bleak darkness is that no matter where I went or how far I went, I could still turn around. I could still be engulfed in light, instead of dark. I could still be happy, full of joy, and fulfillment rather than dreariness and despair. My life could still have purpose and meaning and I wouldn't have to feel like the effort to get through it all was pointless.

"One of God's greatest gifts to us is the joy of trying again, for no failure ever need be final." 

-Thomas S. Monson [The Will Within - April 1987]

I think the best part about venturing into unfamiliar territories is the sweet joy that fills us once we return to where we truly want to be. It's a beautiful thing to have as many second chances as we need in order to better ourselves. I'm grateful for a loving Heavenly Father and Brother, who make it possible for me to be able to "turn around". Without the Atonement, I would have been lost a long, long time ago.

What a special time it is; a time for us to be able to reflect on and remember the life of our Savior, Jesus Christ. I hope that in these last remaining days, despite the hustle and bustle to complete our shopping lists and make it to our family parties, we take off our spiritual blinders and take the time to pause and think of Him. Think of His life. Think of His sacrifice. Think of His love, patience, and kindness. Because truly, we have so much to be thankful for.

"The glitter of the season should never... prevent us from truly seeing the Prince of Peace."

-Dieter F. Uchtdorf 

Merry Christmas!

My Mission Call

Back in June I decided I was going to serve a mission. I didn't want to feel any outside pressure and I wanted the decision to be completely up to me, so I only told a few close friends and family members. Within a few weeks I had filled out my papers and submitted them. When the time came to open my call I found myself facing the difficult decision of how to proceed.

I opened it the night I got it, by myself, on September 3rd. Indiana, Indianapolis. English speaking. December 14th, 2016. 

I've decided to postpone the call until June 2017 so that I make a more firm decision. I currently plan on attending school and completing more of my education, working, and pursuing other interests in the meantime.  

Numerous people have told me that a mission would be a life changing experience that I would never forget, one that would prepare me for the future better than anything else. While I do not doubt this, I want to make sure that I am going because I want to go for myself or because I feel that I need to. 

After praying for weeks and even months, I haven't really received any firm answer. I've struggled with the decision of whether or not to serve since the moment I began filling out the papers. As of now, I feel that this is a decision that I personally will get to make and that whatever I choose to do, the Lord will be happy with it.

I'm grateful for the opportunity I have to serve the people in Indiana - whether I choose to pursue that or not. I have faith that the Lord will lead and guide me, and all of us, to and through the paths that we should pursue. I know that the Lord will not allow us to make decisions we shouldn't, if we are in tune with the Spirit and are centering Him in our lives. I have a testimony of this Church and love it with my whole heart. I'm grateful for a loving Heavenly Father and Savior, Jesus Christ, who have sacrificed so much for each and every single one of us. We are never alone in our journey's back home.

Thank you for your support.

Just Because The Lord Asks Us To Do Something, Doesn't Mean It Will Be Easy

I was reading my scriptures the other day and learned a very interesting lesson: just because the Lord asks us to do something, doesn't mean it will be easy.

I started the Book of Mormon over last week and began reading the familiar first few chapters of 1 Nephi. Having read these chapters probably close to one hundred times, I assumed I wouldn't be getting anything more from them than I usually did. I was only three and a half chapters into 1 Nephi when I realized I was totally wrong!

[Quick insert: This time around, I decided I was going to read along with "Your Study of The Book of Mormon Made Easier" by David J. Ridges. This book is amazing. I definitely recommend including this in your personal study of the Book of Mormon. In it, he asks questions that made me wonder why exactly the Lord would require Nephi to go through some of the things that he did. For example, some of the trials he experienced helped his mother, Sariah, to learn a lesson that she wouldn't be able to otherwise. This concept and perspective I hadn't thought of before reading along with this book.]

We know that in 3 Nephi, Nephi and his brothers are commanded by the Lord, through Lehi, to go back to Jerusalem to obtain the brass plates. Lehi's popular response in verse seven shows us just how valiant Nephi is: "...I will go and do the things which the Lord hath commanded, for I know that the Lord giveth no commandments unto the children of men, save he shall prepare a way for them that they may accomplish the thing which he commendeth them." I don't know about you, but reading this verse made me think that since the Lord had commended it of Nephi, it would be easy for him to carry it out.

Obviously, it wasn't. They had to travel the 180 - 200 miles back to Jerusalem to obtain these records. They left behind their Mother and Father for probably close to two months. Laman and Lemuel murmured nearly every step of the way. In 1 Nephi 3: 29 we know that Laman and Lemuel "smote" Nephi and Sam, before an Angel appeared unto them. Not only that, but they tried three different times to get a hold of these records, failing the first two times because Laban wouldn't give the plates to any of them. And in the end, we know that Nephi was commanded to take the life of Laban in order for His will to be accomplished (1 Nephi 4:17-19).

I'm sure that Nephi (or his brothers) weren't expecting any of these things to happen as they assisted in carrying out the desires of the Lord - I know that I wouldn't have! Naturally I would assume that since I was following the Lord's commandments and faithfully doing all that He's asked of me, everything would magically fall into place and work out perfectly. In "The Book of Mormon Made Easier", I underlined the following: "We forget sometimes that life is a 'schooling' provided for our growth and development, and that if every time we went on the Lord's errand, things were to go perfectly well because of the Lord's blessings, we would be deprived of much our education... sturdy and lasting growth does not come from constant ease."

Would Nephi and his brothers have learned the same valuable lessons had they not had to travel the long (and probably dangerous) journey back to Jerusalem? What about the constant complaining from Laman and Lemuel - would Sam and Nephi have benefited from not having them tag along? Maybe. But they also might have skipped out on obtaining some possible lessons on patience and forgiveness. And Laban. What if Laban easily gave the plates to them so that they could merrily be on their way back home to their parents? I guess we'll honestly never truly know in this lifetime, but I like to think that because of the afflictions and the trials and the complaining and the waiting... all of it was worth it.

Elder Robert D. Hales said, "...the purpose of our life on earth is to grow, develop, and be strengthened through our own experiences... . Tests and trials are given to all of us. These mortal challenges allow us and our Heavenly Father to see whether we will exercise our agency to follow His son... we have the opportunity to learn, that no matter how difficult our circumstances, 'all these things shall [be for our] experience, and... [our] good' (D&C 122:7)". [Why Do We Have Trials?]

We come to this earth to gain the experience of having a body so that we can become like our Father in Heaven. While here, we're constantly being hit by the fiery darts of the Adversary and his helpers. We succumb to the natural man. We fall down and scratch our knees from time to time, and sometimes we even let go of that rod of iron completely. It's easy to become discouraged when we look at all of our shortcomings. Realizing how far from perfection we are can seem daunting and may even make us feel hopeless. Our list of "Things I'm Bad At" seems to get bigger and bigger as we age and eventually it's really easy to just throw our hands up in the air and give it all up.

But I want you to think back on all of the trials you've experienced or maybe are even currently experiencing. Think of the struggles that you might face daily. Ask yourself what you've learned from them? What have you overcome? What attributes have you gained? How have you been able to help someone because of what you've been through? How has feeling the aching pain and loneliness brought you closer to Christ? I don't believe it's ever easy to see the reasons why we're going through something until it's over, but I do believe that there is always something beautiful that comes from the hard times in life. It often requires a lot of time and healing, but they do turn into some of our most beautiful blessings.

So why would the Lord ask us to do something if we might potentially stumble and fall down while we're doing it? Why would His will be for us to fall short and to struggle? I think we focus too much on the "why's" and it blinds us from seeing our potential. We get stuck in the moment and we fail to see just how close we are to the light at the end of the tunnel.

I don't believe that He has a desire to see us topple and fall. However, I do believe that He desires to see us rise. And the only way for us to do any rising is if we do some falling.

So, yes. The Lord is going to ask us to do some amazing things. And we will do them. And we'll be tremendously blessed for our efforts. As we're doing those things that the Lord has asked of us, we'll see trials. We'll find flaws we didn't know we had. We'll learn lessons we thought we already knew. And we'll grow muscles that we didn't even know we had. It will be hard. We'll find ourselves discouraged and we might even lay hopelessly on our beds thinking that we'll never accomplish what has been asked of us. We'll ask a bunch of "why's" and we'll say a lot of pleading prayers.

We're going to do a whole lot of falling - because that's inevitable. But we can also do a whole lot of rising.

Reading the words of Nephi helped me to realize that I'm not alone. Even if he didn't go through the things we will go through or face the things we will face, he still knew what it was like to feel hopeless and discouraged even when he was on the Lord's errand. It's up to us whether we'll get up, dust ourselves off, and continue on or not.

As Al Carraway says, "God is for us, so it doesn't matter who is against us." With Him, all things are possible. As we rely on the strength of our God, we can do all that He has asked of us, even if it involves learning a few lessons along the way that will require us to act on the faith that we have. "...But just as the Good Shepherd finds His lost sheep, if you will only lift up your heart to the Savior of the world, He will find you. He will rescue you. He will lift you up and place you on His shoulders. He will carry you home." ~Dieter F. Uchtdorf, "He Will Place You on His Shoulders and carry You Home"

There are a lot of things in life that are difficult. But that's the thing that makes it worth it in the end. If today you're feeling like you can't take another step, or if you don't have the strength to stand because you've already fallen, turn to the Savior. Let His light in and let it strengthen you. We can't get through this life alone, but we can get through it if we have Him by our side. And the only way to have Him by our side, is if we let Him be there.

This life will be worth it, if we live it well. I believe in that.

The Ledge

My family goes to St. George every summer and each visit is typically the same as the last: swim in the hotel pool, watch a performance at the Tuacahn Theater, and hike around the red rocks. One year, a neighboring family came along and guaranteed that there were far more entertaining things to do besides our usual, mundane festivities. We excitedly anticipated the trip and wondered what could possibly be in store now that we were in the hands of far more experienced “St. George – goers”. One of the activities we were promised was the exhilarating adventure of experiencing an underground cave. I listened intently as the family excitedly spoke of the magical cave at the end of the tunnel we would be hiking through. Upon arriving at the small opening in the ground, I peered over the sandy edge. My eyes widened with excitement and a smile spread across my face. How cool is this?! I thought.

I jumped off of the small ledge and began my decent, deep into the cave. The warmth of the sun slowly began to dim as we continued further. To ensure my safety, I gripped on to any rock or crevice that I could as I inched along the sandy path. There were often large ledges that required us to jump and steep drop offs that made it nearly impossible to stand upright on our feet. Sharp rocks and edges poked out from the walls, resulting in little scratches on my arms and legs.My stomach started to form small, jumbled knots. I wondered if venturing deeper and deeper into the earth would prove to be worth it. Eventually, a little voice asked the question that I didn’t dare: “Are we almost there?” A deeper, more mature voice answered by saying, “Almost! It will be amazing, I promise!” The further we went, the darker it became. Yet, I pressed onward, eager to see the miraculous end.

After what seemed like an eternity, the end was finally in sight. I quickly climbed up and over the last large rock and looked around. I was surrounded by darkness. I blinked a few times, straining my eyes to see the miraculous cave I was earlier promised. This can’t possibly be the end. I turned around in circles, looking at the bland, grey rocks of the cave. It was anything but incredible or awesome. A few moments had passed and we decided to travel back up the path. I turned around and peered up at the first ledge I would have to get onto. Nervous butterflies fluttered around in my stomach as I tried to gulp down the lump that had formed in my throat. I watched as everyone ahead of me seemed to effortlessly climb up onto the ledge as they received help from those around them. I approached the ledge, reached up, and grabbed the sandy rock. I attempted to pull my body up but didn’t have the strength.

I loosened my grip and took a step back, putting my hands on my hips. My body flooded with worry and tears started to sting my eyes. I was now further behind the rest of the group and couldn’t pull myself up onto the ledge. I wondered how it could be so easy to get so deep, yet so hard to get back out.

Just as the first tear started to spill from my eye, I felt a strong arm grip my shoulder. I peered around and saw the gentle face of my father. He smiled as he knelt down, giving me his knee to boost me up. A wave of relief flooded over me. I approached the ledge and stepped onto my dad’s knee. I began to lose my balance and the panic instantly welled up inside my chest. Before jumping off, I felt two arms grab my waist. I looked behind; it was my mother. I took a deep breath and mustered the strength to pull myself up with the guidance of my two parents. A moment later I found myself peering down at my mom and dad, as I sat atop the ledge. The tears started to freely fall as I realized that I wouldn’t be able to get out of this cave alone, but that I could with help.

I’ve gone back to this experience numerous times throughout my life. I remember a time in particular where I was struggling with some of the decisions I was making and was well aware of the dark path that I so aimlessly and easily wandered down. It seemed as if the things of the world were far more enticing than keeping the commandments or simply reading my scriptures and saying my prayers were. 

Much like the sunlight slowly dimming as I ventured deeper into the cave, the light of the Gospel gradually subsided in my life. I didn't know what was at the end of the path I had chosen, but the voices of the world suggested it was "amazing" "astounding" and "incredible". However, traveling further proved otherwise. The enthusiasm for something new and exciting was quickly replaced with worry and doubt as I questioned my decision to travel the way that I was. Yet despite these negative feelings, I pressed forward. 

Eventually I realized that this path gave me little happiness. The grandeur that I assumed would fill my life proved to be disappointing. No longer wanting to be in this dark-filled cave, I began my climb back out, and it didn't take long for me to come to the realization that this would be much more difficult to get out of than it was to get in. I approached my first "ledge" and struggled to get up and over it. I took a step back and looked at all that I had to do in order to get back to where I knew true happiness lied. The thought quickly became overwhelming and doubt began to fill my mind.

You've come too far now, you might as well just stay where you're at.

There's so much that you have to do - it will take forever for you to get out.

In the moments filled with doubt and fear, I found myself falling to my knees and bowing my head, reaching out to my Father in Heaven for the first time in what felt like forever. Crying out in desperation, I felt a warm peace come over me, almost as if a strong arm had gripped my shoulder, assuring me that all would be okay. No longer did the journey back seem impossible. 

This time, I approached the first ledge with much more valor and strength, knowing that I wasn't alone. 

Eventually I was able to make it out of the sandy cave. Each ledge had it's own difficulties and I seemed to struggle with doubt as I approached each one, but before the seed of worry could grow any larger, the hands of my parents appeared to help guide me up and over. The closer I got to the opening of the cave, the more I could feel the warm sunlight on my skin. Hope filled my body as I realized that I was almost to the opening of the cave. A wave of relief washed over me as soon as I found myself standing, peering over the sandy edge and down into the dark cave. Cuts and bruises stung my arms and legs, yet the happiness I felt from enduring the struggle of getting out made all pain disappear. 

Getting out of my "spiritual" cave proved to be similar to pulling myself out of this sandy cave in St. George. Each "ledge" I found myself approaching had it's own difficulties and struggles, yet there was always a knee to step onto or a hand to hold. Any moments filled with fear or worry were quickly replaced with the warm peace of a gentle hand on my shoulder. Eventually a light of hope began to find it's way into my life again, causing me to continue pushing forwards. Eventually I found myself back on a path filled with happiness, able to peer down at my trials. The "cuts" and "bruises" that were now a part of me became a reminder of the struggles and difficulties that were necessary to overcome in order to be back where I now was.

As I look back on the trials that I've gone through during my time on this earth, I can't help but be filled with so much gratitude. I believe that we often feel alone when we venture off the straight and narrow - it becomes easy to believe that the Lord is no longer with us when we aren't doing what we know we ought to. However, I know that the Lord is always with us. Because of our Agency, we have the power to choose whether we will accept His help or not, and the moment that we decide to take His hand, I know that He will be there, ready to lend His knee or a helping hand.

Think Pretty Thoughts

I was roaming around Walmart, trying as hard as I could to fill my shopping cart with healthy food and essentials. However, the "you're-a-stressed-out-and-poor-college-student" cap came on and my cart was instead piled with the comfort food staples: mac and cheese, dill pickle chips, and mint brownie ice cream. Upon realizing that this shopping trip had strayed so far from it's original intent, I decided to continue wandering around the store.

After strolling idly down the sock aisle attempting to find more mismatched pairs to add to my collection and stopping to feed my addiction to scented candles, I found myself in the 'Home Office' section. I glanced at all of the fun new gadgets and decadent pens and walked by the journals. My eye caught the attention of one in particular. On it, in gold cursive lettering, were the words: "Think Pretty Thoughts". I picked up the journal and thumbed through its pages. After concluding that this journal would most likely go to waste, I put it back on the shelf and continued down the aisle. 

It didn't take much to convince myself that I needed this little book in my life and that I could somehow find good use for it, so I circled back around and snatched up the last journal before anybody else could.

Just as I had originally suspected, this little journal sat, neglected, in my car for quite some time. Occasionally I would pick it up and wonder what I could fill its pages with. Thoughts and ideas would formulate, but nothing excited me enough to actually begin writing.

Until I found myself having a bad day. A really bad day.

It was one of those bad days where not even chocolate and good 80's music could lift my spirits. I huffed and puffed while I drove to work and determined that this would be the worst. day. ever. I began listing off all of the reasons why my life was boring, unpleasant, or unfair. I thought about all of the negative things that had happened and found myself wishfully wanting for what others seemed to so easily attain.

I sat down in my cubicle, unzipped my bag, and started unloading the pounds of textbooks. I peered into the dark abyss that is my backpack and noticed the journal I had bought a week previously. I reached in and took it out, looking at it's cover.

Think Pretty Thoughts

I opened up the journal, took out a pen, and wrote: I'm thankful...

I paused. What am I thankful for? I sat back in my chair and glanced down at the blank page. I sourly thought: I'm not thankful for anything today, because today is just awful. The journal sat open at my desk for the rest of the day. Eventually I forced myself to write a sentence down.

"I'm thankful for my job."

I looked down at the five words and thought: Come on. You can do better than that.

By the end of the work day I had written three pages worth. Things like, "I'm thankful for the opportunity I have to receive an education" or "I'm thankful for whoever thought to put peanut butter and chocolate together" filled up the pages. I chuckled to myself as I realized that just a few hours previous I had complained that nothing good was going to happen that day.

This little journal proved that I couldn't have been more wrong. I suddenly became much more aware of all that the Lord has so graciously and generously blessed me with. No longer was I counting the things going wrong, but I was counting the things going right.

And it made such a difference.

Writing in this journal became a daily habit.. As soon as I got to work I'd open it up and begin listing out the things that I was already thankful for that day. I noticed that the time I used to spend wishfully wanting and griping for the things that I didn't have was replaced with scouting for all of the things that I could write down in my journal.

As I look back on the past few months that have been documented in this journal, I've noticed that life has become so much happier. That's not to say that the bad days have stopped coming, because they definitely do. I still binge watch Netflix and splurge on JCW's shakes while I rock out in my mom van attempting to cheer myself up. But the days are much easier to get through when I find myself in search of the good.

The Time I Almost Went To Jail

We all remember my dirty, white creeper van, right? The one that I have the marvelous privilege of driving around in during my “prime years”? Yeah, that one. Oh, the boys I’ve gotten attention from driving around in this thing!!

Before I go into detail of this rather embarrassing event, I’d like to preface by saying that I am a great driver. I’m also extremely sarcastic and terribly bad at lying.

As mentioned in my “van buddies” post, I have a great many driving sins and transgressions. The number of parking citations, speeding tickets, and accidents will not be disclosed at this time. However, you are safe in assuming that I’ve had so many of them that it’s caused the amount of points on my license to sky rocket. It was only a matter of time before I would get my license revoked.

The letter came before I was ready. I opened the sealed envelope and read what was staring back at me: “Due to the amount of points on your Utah Driver’s License, you will need to meet with a member of the court to discuss further action regarding your driving privileges.”

I nervously walked into the DMV on my day of reckoning, silently praying that my license wouldn’t be revoked.

The outcome of the visit: I would be on probation for an entire year. Any citations or tickets would result in suspension for a time period of 30 days.

I walked out of the building, determined to never speed again in my entire life.

That determination was very short lived. I hadn’t even made it ¼ of the way through my probation before I was rolling down my window to face the less than pleasant cop.

By now it was practically routine: Get the registration paper out of the glove box. Hand him your license. Apologize for being stupid. And wait.

Part of me nervously anticipated what he would find when he punched my name into his little computer. The possibility of having to forfeit my license and vehicle right there on the freeway became utterly terrifying. Fortunately I was able to continue my drive back home without the police officer possessing the knowledge of my probation.

I began wishfully thinking that somehow the DMV wasn’t notified of my most recent offense. However, those hopes were dashed when I received the letter in the mail; this time calling me to actual court.

The day of my appearance came far too quickly. I walked into the court house and sat down in the back. Never having been in this situation before, I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. The people ahead of me were being charged with fines of upwards of thousands of dollars along with receiving jail sentences.

I felt the color drain from my face as my heart began to pound. I nervously rubbed my sweaty palms on my pants as I anticipated the moment they would call out my name.

While trying my hardest to appear confident, my mind was racing: What if I go to jail? I can’t go to jail! I have school… and a job! How will I get a job after going to jail!? Would I even survive in jail? Would they put me with criminals?? Will I have to wear an orange jumpsuit every day?! What about my apartment? Someone will have to move all of my stuff out!

Then, I began to try and see the bright side of going to jail at the young age of twenty: I guess this will help you finally learn your lesson.

You won’t have to buy food or pay for rent for three months!

 By the time you’re out, your missionary friends will be 90 days closer to being home!

The negatives greatly outweighed the positives.

My thoughts were disturbed when I heard them call out, “Cambri Hill”. Here goes nothin.

I walked up to the podium. Smile. Maybe he’ll think you’re a really sweet girl and that you shouldn’t go to jail. I smiled weakly as I squeaked out a shaky, “Hello”.

The judge read what was on my ticket and glanced up at me as he asked, “How do you plead?”

Oh my gosh. I have to plead?! This is the type of stuff you watch in movies!!.

“Guilty.”

Here it comes. Jail. 90 days. I’m ready.

I left with a fine and suspended license. Hopping into my car, I let out an exasperated sigh as I looked up at the nasty grey roof of my van. Thank you!!!!!

Side note: as a result of my stubbornness, my parents were unaware that any of this was happening. And because of that fact, I was forced to drive around in my minivan illegally.

It didn’t take long before the flashing blue and red lights appeared in my rear view window. My fist pounded the steering wheel before I began the search to find my license. I wasn’t even speeding!

One would say I have terrible luck. And I would agree.

I rolled down the window and plastered on the nicest smile I could. “Hi, officer. Was I speeding?”

“No. Your registration is expired. Were you aware of that?”

No. No I wasn’t.

Miracle of miracles, I was set free, without him even looking at my license – er, revoked license.

I immediately began the process to getting it registered. I could not get pulled over again.

Just as luck would have it, the process to getting my lovely van registered took far too long, and this time, the cop discovered my secret. I informed my dad of the ticket I had received, assuming I would just take care of the fines myself. However, he was determined to pay. I immediately regretted telling him I had ever received the ticket – I knew that if he dug enough, he would come to find that I was driving with a revoked license.

So I did what any smart, sophisticated individual would do: hide. Everything.

Each time I went home, I knew I would be asked if I had called on my ticket; “Oh. I forgot. I’ll do that tomorrow.” He would periodically ask, “Where’s your ticket?” And I would respond, “I left it at my apartment.”

Finally, my dad’s patience had run out and he resorted to calling on the ticket himself. And it just so happened, the day of my now second court appearance, was when he decided to call.

I left my class at UVU and shamefully drove to the American Fork Judicial Court building. I parked my car and slumped my shoulders as I walked inside, took off everything metal, and stepped through the security system – if only I was at the airport instead, getting on a one-way flight to Hawaii.

I walked into the court room, and again, sat as close as I could to the back, watching as numerous people bustled in. My mind began to wander;what if this is the time I actually go to jail? So I pulled out my phone and went to the one place where all of life’s questions are addressed: Google.

I clicked on the first link that popped up: Yahoo! Answers. The girl explained her situation (much similar to mine) and asked if she would be going to jail.

Every. Single. Answer confirmed her worst fear (and mine).

Upon realizing that Google would provide no relief, I looked up to see a tall, skinny brunette frantically run inside. She had on dirty sneakers, yoga pants, and an oversized sweatshirt. Her hair was pulled back from her make-up free face. Ha. I thought. That looks like my…

Mom?!!

My eyes widened. What is she doing here?! I was caught. I cocked my head to the side, attempting to hide my presence as I slowly sunk as deep as I could into the bench. Maybe she won’t notice?

My phone lit up with a text that read: Where are you? Dad called on your ticket. You have an appearance in court right now!

Both realizing and accepting that I would not be able to somehow magically melt away, I responded: Look to your left.

Our eyes met. “What are you doing here?!” She mouthed.

Moments after confessing to my mother, my name was called. I squared my shoulders and straightened my shirt as I struggled to confidently walk up to the podium. The two note-takers looked up at the judge and said, “Oh. Miss Hill will be late. Her father called in and said she was at school.”

The judge looked at me through her glasses and said, “Does your Father know you aren’t in school?”

After receiving the appropriate consequence of my actions, I left the court room, my mother in tow. I expected a good scolding and a “you need to be more careful” talk on the way out of the court room. I prepared my eyes to start rolling and my breath to start sighing.

She laughed. “Thanks for a tour of the Judicial Court House! I should have taken a picture of you up there!”

What!?

***

There are three conclusions that have risen from this oh-so-embarrassing story of mine:

Number one: Be good to your Mom. One day she may be running into a court room after being at the gym to explain why you’re missing (even if you really aren’t).

Number two: This would make for a great story, someday.

I didn’t realize that “someday” would be so soon after. The wound of embarrassment is still fresh as ever. But upon realizing that my mother’s newest goal was to share this humorous adventure with any and every soul that she could, I found it best to expose it now.

It’ll be good for posterity. Right?

And number three: Have I learned my lesson?

I guess we’ll find out.

* * *

Related posts:

Van Buddies

The Mall Kiosk

If you've ever successfully escaped one of the mall kiosk associates... you're definitely one of a kind. And you NEED to share your tactics with me.

A few months ago I was walking through the mall, stopping occasionally to browse over the stores merchandise. Upon hitting the personal spending limit I set for myself before entering the mall, I began the trek back to my car... er, van.

I began glancing at the small kiosk's that spotted the interior of the mall. Some were selling green tea or splat balls. Others had curling irons and protein powders. And I had somehow managed to dodge every single one of them! A feeling of pride began to well up in my chest.

Until... she spotted me.

The facial cream, moisturizing, skin exfoliating mall kiosk employee.

Our eyes met for a brief second and a pang of worry resonated inside of me. Please don't stop me. Please don't stop me.

"Hi! Do you have a moment to try out our new product?"

It seemed as though she recognized my look of unsurety. She walked over to me and slipped her arm through mine as she guided me back to the stool placed underneath the green kiosk umbrella.

"Um. Sure." I barely mustered out.

She began opening bottles and pouring creams and jellies onto my arm. While "waiting" for the product to take effect, she said "I just moved here from Jerusalem yesterday. Utah is so nice!" I plastered a smile on my face and nodded my head.

After what seemed like an eternity of unwanted small talk, she looked down at my arm and gasped at the changes her magical scrub and cream had done. I realized she wasn't going to stop talking about it until I agreed with her.

She began boxing up a set of the products and walked over to her cash register. "Do you know how much this is?" I shook my head and began to protest that I really didn't want to spend any more money. "You're a student, aren't you?? I'll knock it down $100!"

Wow. $100? Can they even take that much off?

I shook the thought out of my head and again opened my mouth to explain to her that I truly did not want the product.

"I'll throw in free soap!"

Free soap, too?!

And then all of the sudden, I found myself handing her my debit card. My knuckles turned white from gripping so hard on the new bag of moisturizers I had just acquired as I watched her swipe the card.

Well. There goes the weekly b-dubs dinner for the next two weeks. And that book I was going to order online. Oh, and there goes my food.

I immediately began plotting to return each of the products at another time. Can you even return items to mall kiosks? But rather than risk being caught returning her beloved items, I began going through what I had bought previous to being taken captive by the nice Jerusalem lady.

"Want to go grab coffee?" I looked up at the lady and tried to kindly explain I didn't drink coffee. "Oh. Well, lunch?" I looked down at my phone and told her I had somewhere to be (I needed to make my escape!) "Ok! I will write down my email and phone number and you can tell me how much you like my product!"

I patiently waited for her to write down her information. I looked around at the countless people scurrying in and out of stores as they dodged the kiosks. The lucky souls.

It was almost as if the hundreds of passerby's were expressing their gratitude to me, for taking one for the team. I sat there, slumped in the cheap stool, thinking about my now drained bank account.

I had entered enemy territory and lost the battle.

After awkwardly taking the paper from her hands and attempting to escape an unwanted hug, I slowly walked away, feeling down, discouraged, and defeated.

I put my new items onto the bathroom counter and neglected them for what seemed like weeks. She promised the product would last a year and suddenly I realized it was only because I wasn't actually going to use them - they even had the potential to last multiple years.

One day I decided to try them out. I opened each of the bottles and racked my brain to remember exactly which order to use them. I sat down at my computer and searched for some instruction.

My research shed some rather unfortunate light: I bought water and salt.

I really need to learn how to say no.



[Enjoy this video done by Studio C. They know my pain.]

Finding The Courage To Wear A T - Shirt

I have this shirt. It's red. And it says "PORN KILLS LOVE" in large white lettering.

I have other shirts from this same organization; a black one that says, "Become a fighter, change begins with one" and a blue one that says, "Don't fill your head with lies". I've worn these two shirts on multiple occasions and always get some questions as to the meaning behind them. I've even gotten random strangers telling me how great it is that I'm repping the movement of Fight the New Drug.

But for some odd reason, wearing the well - known red "Porn Kills Love" t - shirt has proven to be quite difficult.

You see... the blue and black shirts tend to blend in easier with the crowd - I can walk around wearing either of them and at first glance it just looks like one of my old high school t - shirts.

But everybody knows about the "Porn Kills Love" shirt - you don't even have to read it to already know what it says.

Don't get me wrong... I love the shirt! It's probably in the top 5 of my most favorite t - shirts (yes... I do rank my clothing in order of favorite to least favorite)! I wear it to bed all the time; but when the laundry hasn't been done and my supply of shirts to wear to the gym is running low... my red "porn kills love" t - shirt isn't even considered. When it's time to go to band practice? Anything BUT the red shirt. And Saturday morning math class where looking like a slob is totally acceptable because of the inhumane hour that it's being held? The shirt is not so lovingly tossed aside and I'm forced to sift through dirty clothes in order to find something to wear.

Why?

I've never been one to really care much about what people think of me. The confidence that I have in myself, my standards, and values are much greater than any comment or thought that someone could think or say to me.

But, simply put: I was afraid to stick out. I was afraid of being noticed; wearing this shirt brought me out of my "Cambri comfort zone". Every time I put it on in the morning, the thoughts of what people might think of me if they saw me wearing it would wander through my head...

Why is she wearing that?

What is she thinking making a statement like that?

Does she really believe that?

I first came across "Fight the New Drug" earlier in 2015. Immediately I was intrigued by what I was reading. Pornography is like a drug? Wow! How? And I kept reading all that the website had to offer. How have I never heard all this stuff? As I continued navigating around this website, I found all of the many great things that this company was doing for the countless people with loved ones struggling with pornography as well as those who struggle themselves. Reading the real - life stories from people who knew all too well about the harmful effects of pornography became something I did during my free time. It amazed me to see all of the kind words that people who didn't even know each other shared with those who were struggling.

After supporting this organization for numerous months, I decided it was time to buy one of their many t - shirts. I knew that the "Porn Kills Love" shirt was the most popular of all, but didn't think I was ready to make such a bold statement - so I bought my two other Fight the New Drug shirts instead.

However, every time I went back to the website, I found myself wanting to buy the shirt.

So one day I did! And a few days later my t - shirt showed up in the mail. My heart started to beat a little faster as I opened the clear packaging. I was excited, but also nervous. I fully support and love what this organization does for people but was completely nervous to wear this shirt out in public for fear of what others might think.

So the shirt stayed in my dresser drawer for quite some time. I didn't even try it on.

Eventually I forgot about the t - shirt until it showed up in my laundry a few weeks later. I lifted it up and looked at it. I held it there for a moment and cocked my head to one side. Why am I so afraid to wear this shirt?

It took me sitting in my parents laundry room holding up a very neglected t - shirt to realize that this had the adversary written all over it. I scolded my lack of courage and decided I would wear the shirt out in public.

I'm reminded of the popular Mormon Message from our sweet Prophet, President Thomas S. Monson entitled: Dare to Stand Alone (watch it here).

While my itty bitty predicament was not the same as President Monson's, it had its similarities. Watching this simple message often makes me wonder if I would have the courage to stand all alone or if I would back out and go with another group.

While it isn't the exact same, not wearing my red "Porn Kills Love" t - shirt because I was afraid of what others would think of me, answers the question of whether or not I would stand alone or shamefully leave to join another group and their Sunday activities.

Now, I understand that this is just a t - shirt and that in the grand scheme of things it probably doesn't even matter all that much, but it sure has seemed to cause quite the ruckus. The nervous butterflies that accompanied wearing the shirt outside of my bedroom caused me to wonder if it was actually worth it.

I put it on and looked at myself in the mirror and, for a brief moment, contemplated taking it off. But I didn't. And I wore it all day. I went to the parentals in it. And out in public. I even posted a picture on social media - I was feelin' gutsy.

I quickly realized that wearing this shirt helped me to feel a sense of pride; I was wearing something that showed a portion of my beliefs and I wasn't afraid of it anymore! All of the sudden, sticking out like a sore thumb or wondering what other people were thinking about me wasn't on the forefront of my thoughts. 

As members of the Church, I believe that we are supposed to stick out - but for good reasons, of course. In Peter 2:9 we're referred to as a 'peculiar' people. Even back then they knew we'd be oddballs!

The trick is to realize that being the one sticking out of the "popular crowd" is actually cool!

I've always known that the commandments and guidelines set by our Prophets and other Church leaders are here to help us and keep us safe and protected. I'm a firm believer that God would never have us do anything that would harm us or slow down our progression to our ultimate goal: perfection.

Because of the commandments, principals, guidelines, and suggestions - Mormons are most often the odd man out (unless you live in Utah or Rexburg). If followed correctly, we're meant to stand out. Meant to stick out like a sore thumb. Meant to cause people to question our actions. Meant to make people wonder what we're all about.

"When you keep the commandments and follow the Savior's example, it's like holding up a light. Your good example helps others to find their way in a darkened world." -Ardeth G. Kapp

Now, I know that Fight the New Drug is not directly associated with the LDS church, but it sure does follow and go along with what we believe! It's designed to help people find relief and freedom from something that's holding them captive - no matter how deep in they are. While wearing my red shirt doesn't show my beliefs directly - it does in some small part. It's caused people to ask questions and wonder why I support such a group. I've found that numerous missionary opportunities have come from simply wearing this shirt.

After having seen all of the positive events that occur from wearing a shirt makes me wonder why I ever worried to wear it in the first place!

I've had many challenges and experiences that have helped me to see that being a Mormon is actually the cool thing to do and be. Trifling and dabbling with the things of the world can seem fun - but that fun is only temporary and doesn't even begin to compare to the happiness and blessings that one can obtain from faithfully living the Gospel standards.

Don't be afraid of wearing a t - shirt that represents a small portion of who and what you are. For that matter, don't be afraid of anything that shows what you stand for.

I challenge each and every one of us to follow President Monson's council: "Dare to be a Mormon. Dare to stand alone. Dare to have a purpose firm. Dare to make it known!"

 ***

Check out the Fight the New Drug website! It's really cool!

The LDS Church holds support meetings for those directly and not directly affected by pornography. They follow 12 steps that can help provide relief to those struggling. These steps can be and are a blessing to anybody.