Bri Colorful

Archive for August 2010

The first day of school and that means suddenly the most important thing in the universe becomes sleep. You can never get enough and you’re always thinking about it.

I left my first class today slightly fuming. One of my least favorite experiences in the college setting is encountering professors who think their job is to take on the role of closed-minded parent. Obviously, their job description is much different in my opinion.

I should explain my ranting. Today a professor told me he did not want us to use computers to take notes in class because he was afraid we would surf the internet at the same time. Now, I understand his concern: he wants people to pay attention to him. But for one thing, we are in college. We are responsible for our own education. If we choose not to take advantage of the oppourtunities before us, that is our problem, not his. We do not need babysitting, to be told where to be and when, or to be monitored to make sure we are on task. It is my responsibility to take advantage of whatever information I find pertinent to my education from his lecture.

Now I’m not arguing that we should all play solitare while listening to our professors. It works really well for some people, but I am not the person who looks at friend’s facebook photos in class. Personally, I have become accustomed to my personal campus: the world wide web. If you take away this learning tool from me, you close opportunity upon opportunity to me. Is it really so offensive if I decide to comment about something you say on my facebook or google a term you use in your lecture while you’re talking? My peers and I grew up using the mouse to access information and you assume you can simply take that away, somewhat comperable to the bishops who once declared they were the only ones who could read and interpret the bible to the illiterate people.

It’s closed minded; it’s authoritarian; it puts road blocks up on the highway of free information and education. This is the end of my rant, which I suppose makes this an official blog. Every blog must have a rant.

After today’s painful snap back to reality after a blissfully romantic vacation, I’ve decided I just need to take a leaf out of Jessica’s book and start my day like this: I think it might be the only way I’ll make it through this semester.

Monday, here I come… I can do anything good!

Vacation??

Posted on: August 24, 2010

Today I have been preparing for Grant and I to take off on one last hurrah before going back to school on Monday. Our plan is to leave early tomorrow morning for Bear Lake in celebration of our 2nd wedding anniversary on Thursday. For some reason I found myself becoming more and more anxious the more I packed and thought about our upcoming adventure. Here I was preparing to go relax and all I could feel was stress … why? I texted Grant and told him how I was feeling in an attempt to understand where it was coming from.

He responded with the following: “Oh my love, everything is going to be alright! I’m sooooo excited for our trip I can’t even tell you! This is important and special and worth everyday. I’m going to take good care of you!”

I suddenly realized that I had subconsciously been worrying that I would be unable to relax. What a funny thing to worry about! As I thought about all the fun things we might do for our vacation, I was worried that I would be filled with anxiety over the coming start of school. We have prepared in every way we can for the new semester. Grant and I always have so much fun on our trips away together. My fears were unfounded and yet they were there. It made me wonder, does anyone else find themselves working hard to get away and relax and then struggling to actually do so?

For our entire courtship and marriage Grant and I have had a major disagreement about one very important thing: Twizlers or Redvines. Finally I could take it no longer. Without disclosing my opinion on the subject, I put it to vote on facebook. I opened the debate up so anyone could comment and after 74 responses on the subject, the poll was cast in favor of Redvines 2:1. So while I still lovingly supply my husband with his beloved red plastic, I feel justified in occasionally buying myself some “real” licorice.

P.S. I realize that neither contains any real licorice plant and have yet to try licorice that does. Feel free to supply me with the experience; I have no objection to receiving candy from strangers. 🙂

I am sorry for not being more consistent in my posting. I hope to redeem myself. I have been keeping regular journal entries throughout the summer and will share them with you so you know my experiences from this summer. There are a few below to catch you up.

This summer I did a lot of self-therapy. I was struggling with my self-esteem, because someone told me that my worth was dependent on how I look and that I did not look how I should. Those I have shared my experiences with thankfully have not pitied me, but instead extended assurances of their love. I don’t want pity. I only share my experiences in hope that I can comfort someone who might be feeling the same.

Amazing women, who had no idea what I was struggling with, reached out to me in love this summer. I attended a Young Woman’s camp  for girls ages 12-18 in Washington (my home state). I went as an interpreter. As I relished in the beauty of rain-soaked, gray skyed, green covered Washington, I was overwhelmed by the love I felt from women who once helped to raise me. They reminded me that my worth does not change. They reminded me that beauty is vain, favor is deceitful, and virtue is what is truly of value (a value more precious than rubies).

Those girls were my example in every way. The first day of camp, most of the camp supplies went up in flames on their way to camp in the Uhaul. These women pulled it together and bought or borrowed new supplies; the girls shared and showed sweet compassion to those who lost things in the fire. The second day of camp we had a flash flood — no joke. Again I watched girls serve: digging trenches around other’s tents in the rain and sharing dry clothes with those who were soaked to the bone while we all crowded together in the cramped lodge and sang hymns. I felt loved and received service at many hands. It was a beautiful experience. The rest of camp we were able to laugh at our tests in morale, even when the swarm of bugs descended and a set upon us so that I had bites everywhere, including my scalp.

Afterward, the sweet girl I interpreted for sent me a card and gift in the mail. The last line in her note was this: “You are the best person in the world ever!” I don’t know that I quite qualify for that statement, but I am grateful for the reminder that my worth does not depend on outward circumstances and I am loved for the good I do, not how I look.

(Written August 4th, 2010)

This morning Grant woke up to a thunderstorm and couldn’t sleep. His fidgeting awoke me at 5 am. We cuddled and listened to the rain and thunder. It was so beautiful. Then we heard something moving around in our window-well (we live in a basement apartment). I had Grant go and grab a flashlight. It illuminated a sweet little bird who was trapped in the well. I cooed and loved at it and wished it were not 5 AM so I could go ask Brother Riddle for a net to save it.

As I shone the light upon it, it drew closer and closer to the window. I’m sure it couldn’t see me . . . only the light. I think it was comforted.

Finally Grant pulled me away from the sweet image before me, promising we would help our new little friend in the morning. Suddenly we heard a chirp (the first our friend had uttered). I raced over but the bird had gone, flying off into a graying dawn. I cannot help but think that the comfort it felt from the light, just knowing there was light, led the little guy on into the morning sky.

Sometimes I’m stuck in a window-well and scared of the storm and the dark. Then someone shines the light of Christ so purely that I can see my situation better. I take comfort and I am able to fly back out, refreshed, into the new day.

This July I attended a family reunion where we celebrated the 50-year marriage of my father’s parents. It was so sweet to celebrate their special union. The following is a tribute I wrote to them.

I recently read a blogpost in which building a strong marriage was likened to building a castle. To me, the symbolism seemed entirely appropriate, having descended from a legacy of strong marriages. The author (my mother-in-law) suggested we “be patient and vigilant in building a secure marriage for castles are constructed one stone at a time.” In my experience, wen you first marry, it’s like you are jumping at the seems to build that castle. If you were careful, you’ve laid a solid foundation; both of you worked hard on yourselves before you met. You’ve carefully placed the cornerstone and given that castle something sturdy to sit on. But you might come with different ideas for a floor plan or ideas of what a castle is like. Sometimes the day is hot and musty and lifting stones to build a castle just doesn’t seem worth the effort. But when you get to the top; when you finally finish the gorgeous edifice and see the view from way up there, it will be breathtaking. Along the climb up, at each turret, you will have to stop and catch your breath for the beauty of it. Others who visit your castle and see what you’ve created will be astounded and blessed by the experience. You’ll leave behind a legacy for generations to defend and appreciate.

This is what you leave for us: a beautiful, strong romance that we can use as an example in designing our own blue prints. “A natural desire and commitment to constancy; an innate attitude and aptitude” for strong marriages has been bred into my parent and thus into me, because of the example of loving and committed parents. Because you both chose to be good and to be good to each other, all your posterity will be blessed. It took both of your continual, sweet efforts to build the great edifice to which we, your descendants, now all unconsciously base our actions on. Thank you for building a family centered in Christ from a marriage sanctified by His Holy Spirit. Grant and I love you. We are ever grateful for you.


Photo of Bri

Follow me on Facebook

Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 16 other followers

I'm a Mormon.

The Drawing Board (i.e. my Tweets)

%d bloggers like this: