October 2013

This October has been non-stop!  It has been my most exciting month of my whole year, but I'm exhausted!

My month started with a long weekend back home to Indiana for my sister-in-law's baby shower.

I flew in on a Friday night.  My mom and I went to the Farmer's Market on Saturday. We hung out most of the rest of the day doing nothing special.  I missed Conference, but I have watched most of it since then.  We then headed down to Pendleton, IN on Sunday for the baby shower.  My brother and Erica met us there.  I got to see some more family and friends and we had a cute little baby shower for her and my soon-to-be niece/nephew.

After that my brother took me to the Indy Airport to pick up a rental car and we both (in separate cars) headed back to Cincinnati.  The three of us (plus Juno) hung out that night and the next morning/afternoon and then I headed back to the Indy airport to fly home.

 
Nate and Juno                                                          Erica and Baby Bump

The weekend after that (Columbus weekend) I drove up to Nebraska to visit Amy her family.  We surprised her parents who were coming the next day (with me being there).  I haven't seen Mama and Papa Boling since July 2009.  It was great!  More to come on this trip in a following post. 

The following weekend I babysat for a family that I am supposed to start babying sitting for regularly. I babysat for 3 little boys all day on Saturday.  And I mean ALL day!  From 9am to 12:30am (just after midnight that night).  Blah.  I was pooped!

Side bar:  I don't know if I am somehow being prepared to have all boys someday, but looking back on all of my babysitting over the years, I have almost always watched boys.  I mean like 90% of the time it has been boys.  Weird.  I don't have a preference for boys, they just so happen to be the kids of the parents that ask me.

Other side bar:  Twice, in the matter of a week, I had two different kids ask me if I "have a baby in my belly."  Looks like I need to get back to working out again.  I've been a slacker lately.

The day after babysitting (actually 7 hours after I was done babysitting) I left for my Painting trip.  I drove with another lady down the Port Aransas, Texas.  We had 6 painting classes, had a sand castle building lesson (from a professional!), walked the beach, ate amazing food, went on a fishing trip and had tons of fun!  More to come on this trip in a following post.

I got back in town tonight and I start work again tomorrow.

And the NaNo begins on Friday!!

Oh, and I've been sick for 2 weeks! Blah!!

As for tonight...I can't wait to sleep in my own bed.

Ahhhh...

Dreams

I dream just about every night.  Sometimes I only remember my dreams for a split second in the morning and then they are gone, never to be remembered again.  But sometimes I remember them later in the day and then the dream will usually stick with me, at least a little longer.  The other day was like that.

In my dream I had a super power.  I think I can safely say that most people have at some point or another wished or daydreamed about a super power they would want, and how they would use it.  I've thought about it before, but I don't think I've ever wished for the particular super power that I dreamt about the other night.

Here is all I can remember:

My super power was two-fold.  I could split myself into two, meaning I could basically clone myself and there would be another me standing next to me.  The other thing I could do was run really fast like Flash (once I was split). Only the clone of me could run really fast though.

Also in the dream I was a boy with short brown hair and I was wearing a black jacket.  I mean, I was me, I was just in boy form, or something like that.  You know how dreams can be weird like that.

So I am walking along the shoulder of the highway (who knows why), when for some reason I needed to split.  I don't remember why now I needed to, but I did.  So I split and my other self took off running back the way we came.  I yelled out to him (me) and told him to wait for me and not leave me stranded, but it was too late.

I started slowly walking on the highway again when all of a sudden I hear a screeching behind me.  I turned around to see my friend from Lafayette, Reina.  She had pulled over to the side of the road in her car and swung the passenger side door open.  She told me to get in.  I did.  She asked me what I was doing walking on the side of the highway.  I tried to explain that I had a super power and my other self had to go, but she didn't believe me.  I mean, really, who would?  But it really frustrated me that she wouldn't believe me when I was telling her the truth.

Then I woke up.

I haven't spoken to or seen Reina in years.  I don't know what made me dream about her.  Dreams are funny like that sometimes.  

Hope

I have been hesitant to write this post, but it has been rolling around in my head for some time and so I thought I would write it and then decide later if I would just leave it in my drafts or actually post it. 

I guess I decided to post it.  lol

It is about the word hope.  I decided some time ago that it is my favorite word in the English language.  I think that's because there have been many times in my life where I felt like things were so messed up and I didn't know how to move forward or fix them.  In those times the only thing that could pull me out of the mental funk I was in was simply...hope.  

Hope for the future.

Hope for something better.

Hope that a loving Father in Heaven could fix things that I couldn't.  

Hope that that same Father in Heaven has wisdom and knowledge that I can't see and that He is still in control even though I am not...ever (it seems).  

I also decided at some point that hope is what anchors me to Him.  It is the thing that pulls me back into reality when I feel desperate, and beyond repair, and all of the worthlessness in the world building up on me.  If I can find hope, I can find my footing again.  Maybe I shouldn't rely so much on hope.  Maybe I need to take into account faith, and charity, and all of the others worthwhile things out there. 

Maybe.  

I do find comfort in those things, but hope is my go to.  And I don't think that is so bad.

I have found that if I try (really try sometimes), I can find hope in any situation.  I suppose that is because I am His.  I am a child of the Most High God.  He loves me and I am His.  

Two years ago I got that word tattooed onto my body.

Wait...did you just go back and read that last line to see if you really read it correctly?  I bet you did.  I snuck it in there pretty casually.  Haha. 

But yeah.  A for real, permanent tattoo.  The kind that are made with needles and ink and will be on my body when I am ninety years old.  I fully expect it to look like some nasty black (or faded to green) birth defect on my skin by that time.  

My choice in the getting the tattoo was not all on my own.  I had a friend really push for me to go through with it.  I had initially wanted it and then decided against it.  For many reasons.  But she pushed until I finally gave in.  

-Do I blame her?  No.  Not at all.  Ultimately I make my own decisions.
-Have I regretted the decision since?  Maybe a few times, but mostly I'm okay with it.
-Do I think it is a sin to get tattoos? I am undecided.  Possibly.
-Will I ever get another one?  I have considered it many times.

They say tattoos are addictive.  I can see why, but I don't know that I fall into that category.  Sometimes I draw new ones out, and then I take a picture of it and put it away for a while.  It seems that anytime I stubble across it later, I never have the same feelings towards it.  I suppose that is a good way to decide.  

The tattoo is on my hip.  I decided on that spot because I wanted it to be hidden from the general population, but I didn't want it to be in such a "remote" place as to have to get too personal with the man inking me (if you know what I am saying).  I also wanted to be able to show people if they asked without, again, getting too personal. 

Side note: When letting someone place a permanent mark on your body like that, you tend to get chatty with them as you sit and try not to cry from the pain.  I started to ask him questions about crazy tattoos and crazy placement of tattoos.  He said he had done them everywhere.  I asked if he meant everywhere everywhere?  He said yes.  I didn't ask him to expound upon that.  I got the picture.  

For the last two years I have only told a handful of people about my tattoo.  I sort of like that it is this little secret of mine.  Although, I probably think I am more sly than I actually am.  I have had people ask me about it who I didn't tell.  Like my Mom.  Haha.  That is because sometimes it pops out from under the hem of my shirt when I move.  Oops.  So maybe this not new news to any of you.  Maybe you knew and just didn't say anything.  Which is fine.  But there you have it, friends.  My secret is officially out. 

I have a tattoo!

Just in case you were wondering:

Yes it did hurt.  

And no I did not draw this myself, but I did come up with the phrase.

And yes, you can see it next time we are together (if you ask).

The Truth About Being a Convert

Let me let you in on a little bit of what it's like to be a convert in this church.  The following are a few conversations I have had with people about my membership in the church.

#1
"Ya know, we used to sit around and talk about what could have possibly happened in your life to make you want to join your church.  Like...what could have happened to make you make such a decision?"

#2
I'm sitting at a baseball game with a friend/coworker and she asked if I go to church.  I said yes, "the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints."  As I looked at her to see if she knew that that meant Mormon, (since a lot of people don't know our actual church name) I am pretty sure the entire earth went silent in that moment.  Not only did I know that she knew I meant Mormon but we both knew she immediately disapproved.  After asking if I was born and raise a member or had joined on my own, and I said yes, she asked the following question with as much disapproval as she could muster, "Why would you do that?"

#3
"You know that you joined a poly-theistic church, right?  And we both know what the Bible says about poly-theism. You will go to hell if you don't get saved."

#4
"I just don't understand how you can be soooooo wrong and just not see it!  How do you not see it?"

#5
I was at a wedding reception in 2003-ish.  I went down the receiving line and when I reached the father of the bride, he grabbed my hand, pulled me in close and said to me, "Alison I just want you to know that you have helped strengthen my testimony.  It is young people like you that join the church as youth that remind me of the simpleness of the gospel and how true it really is.  Thank you!"

#6
I'm sitting in Institute class yesterday.  Most of the class doesn't know me, or at least not well.  Our class covers a wide area along with a lot of new people.  We were talking about how to get answers to prayers.  I raised my hand and said, "Well, I'm a convert to the church and when I was praying to know if the church was true..."  I swear every single head in the class turned in my direction when I said the "C" word.  My new friend Aly then elbowed me (after I had finished talking) and said with a big smile, "That is so cool!  I didn't know you were a convert!"

#7
"I couldn't have done what you did and joined the church on my own...without my family.  I just don't think I have it in me.  The Lord knew you had the guts to do it.  You are so brave."

The first four numbers were all said by (or related to) someone who is not a member of "The Church" i.e. my church.  The last three were all from people who share my beliefs and religion.  What I realized (literally) just the other day, is that to members of the church I am a superstar for believing, and converting, and doing it without my family, and staying with it, and all of those things.  And to people who are not members of the church...I am an idiot.  Literally.  So deceived, and so dumb.

Disclaimer: This post is neither a oh woe is me post nor a look at me, I'm so wonderful post.  It's simply just an observation I have come across.

I sort of love telling new people (who are members) that I am a convert.  I love telling my story.  It's a pretty epic story after all.  And I definitely dread telling non-members that I didn't just grow up in this faith (and apparently don't know any better).  Because that is what a lot of them think about all of you born and raised folk out there.  Now I know I am stereotyping a lot of people by saying that, but that has been the general reaction from people about my situation.

Being a convert "is a blessing and a curse," as Monk would say (brownie points if you know that reference).  I am so far removed from a life that includes members of a family that share my beliefs that I wonder if it will be a struggle when I get married and have kids to do all the things that typical LDS families do.  Like have family home evening...in a family setting, not with a group of YSA.  Or have a family prayer.  Or reference to simple things like Conference at the dinner table without having to explain what "Conference" is.  Or knowing that I won't have to choose between spending time with my family or saying no to them because they choose to eat out or go to the mall on a Sunday.  Its weird to think about things like that.

But all around, I love that I fit into the category of "convert."  It gives me a sense of value and importance and uniqueness that I don't know that I would have felt otherwise.