Don't Miss This Contest!!!

So The Crash Test Dummy and Art and Sewl are co-sponsoring a Ghost Story writing contest.

Click on the poster below to be transported through time or space... or the internet to the contest site, complete with rules and some pretty covet-worthy prizes to whet your writing appetite.

The more the merrier, so get over there and scare up some stories!

The Eyebrow Adventure, aka Amidey Made Me Do It

So. When I entered my midlife crisis this summer and realized that my Chick Card had been revoked, I first did the ear piercing thing. I also began to consider getting my eyebrows waxed, with a fair amount of encouragement from some of you (see comments for the last two posts). Yes, it is true, my friends; somehow I reached 39 years of age without ever having had any hair ripped off my face (or any other part of me, thank you very much). It was part of the "a la naturale" thing I had going... no hair color, no piercings, no tattoos, no eyebrow waxing, and for several years, no eye makeup. I was downright granola for awhile, I'm telling you! I even made my own homemade granola. Also yogurt, cheese, and butter from raw milk gotten from a cow I milked myself. I wore Birkenstocks with socks, even. (But not while milking the cow.)

So, with that kind of emotional baggage, you can understand my reluctance to get my eyebrows done. My whole identity revolved around being REAL. Hair color and eyebrow waxing were for shallow girlie women who secretly hated themselves and were insecure about their appearance. My husband liked me the way I was. I liked me the way I was. Mostly. Well, sometimes. And above all, I didn't want to get my eyebrows done just because most of my friends thought I should. If I was going to do it, I would do it because I wanted to do it.

So I waited more than a month. (Bad writing alert: I started three straight paragraphs with the word, "so". The floggings shall commence immediately.) I waited, because I am stubborn and spiteful. And I looked at my eyebrows in the mirror every morning; with each passing day they began to look bushier. Finally I capitulated. I called Kari Rawlings of New Reflections Salon and made an appointment for myself and Jessica, my lovely fellow Sister-OutLaw.

My handsome but annoying husband overheard the conversation and smirked as I got off the phone.

"I knew you would end up doing it. If Amidey wants you to do something, you always do it."

If he hadn't been holding a reciprocating saw, I might have socked him. Instead, I stuck my tongue out and put my fingers in my ears.

"NanaNanaBooboo!"

And then I ran.

What a dork. (Him, not me.) (As if I needed to tell you that.) (Right?)


So, last Wednesday we went. Amidey came along to document the process. We are nothing if not dedicated bloggers, after all.

Behold, the videos.

Worse than the waxing, however, was the tweezing that commenced after the camera was turned off. Dude. That really hurt. I was yelping and crying and making a complete fool of myself in the chair. Okay not really. But I saved up the pain and went home and cried like a baby later that night.

And here, we are, Jessica and myself, after the ordeal was over.

The funny thing is... I don't know that I see a whole lotta difference. Do you?

Before

After

Yikes - take a look at the wrinkles around those eyes!? Whoa, baby - I think a little botox might be called for here! I mean, hey, I'm already well down the slippery slope of appearance artifice, right? Why stop now? I could be young forever -- Wheeeeeee!


What's that? Too late, you say? TOO LATE?! Are you calling me... OLD!?

&$*&@! so called "friends"! Who needs you, anyway! :stalks off to make voodoo dolls:

You will rue the day you mocked the Funny Farmer!

Scared yet? No? :sigh:


OH! Wanna know what my husband said when he got home that night and saw my new brows?

Nothing. He didn't even notice.

Shocker.

Thorns

I didn't exactly plan not to go to church today. That would be a sin on top of a sin, to consciously plan to skip church and then do it. And I didn't do that. But when at T minus 30 minutes and counting I was out dealing with escape artist chickens, I realized that I would be late, and the temptation came: It doesn't matter; indeed, just skip the whole thing.

And then I dropped the feed bucket and ran for the house to get dressed, because I know that when I don't want to go to church is the day that I really need to go to church. (Which, honestly, is pretty much every week lately. What's up with that?)

I arrived only a few minutes late -- in time for the sacrament, even. (Hooray!) I ignored the bishop's wry grin as I walked all the way up to the second row to sit with my prompt and halo-clad children.

And sure enough, near the end of the High Councilor's talk came the scripture nugget that I needed. I spent the remaining two hours of the block poring over scriptures, writing in my church notebook, and completely ignoring the hard-won lessons prepared by the Sunday School and Relief Society teachers. (Does that make me a bad person?)

I'm glad I went today. I really needed that boost.


Well, Duh...






What? Oh... you want to know what the scripture nugget was?

Promise not to laugh?

Cross your heart and hope to die, stick a needle in your eye?



Okay. Here goes:



Though he were a Son,
yet learned he obedience by
the things which he suffered.

(Hebrews 5:8)


And on the opposite page:


For we have not an high priest
which cannot be touched
with the feeling of our infirmities;
but was in all points tempted
like as we are,
yet without sin.

Let us therefore come boldly
unto the throne of grace,
That we may obtain mercy,
and find grace to help
in time of need.

(Hebrews 4:15-16)


And finally:


There was given to me
a thorn in the flesh,
The messenger of Satan
to buffet me,
lest I should be exalted above measure.

For this thing
I besought the Lord thrice,
that it might depart
from me.

And he said unto me,
My grace is sufficient for thee:
for my strength is made perfect
in weakness.

Most gladly therefore
will I rather glory in my infirmities,
that the power of Christ may rest
upon me.

(2 Corinthians 12: 7-9)

Fooling Around...Take the Poll!

Not THAT kind of fooling around. Sheesh.

Gotta new header up today, after much blood sweat and tears. Okay, I'll admit it--there was no blood or sweat involved. But there were tears. And cursing, even.

Lemme know what you think. Vote in the poll (cuz you just love polls!) and comment here if you'd like.

Conference Thoughts: You don't know everything, but you know enough.

Today's thoughts come from Elder Neil L. Andersen on Saturday Morning. You can watch, listen, or read it to review if you'd like.

Early in his talk, Elder Andersen shares the story of a struggling missionary who has decided to return home:

"We sat together in the mission president’s home. The missionary told me about his challenging childhood, of learning disorders, of moving from one family to another. He spoke sincerely of his inability to learn a new language and adapt to a new culture. Then he added, “Brother Andersen, I don’t even know if God loves me.” As he said those words, I felt a sure and forceful feeling come into my spirit: “He does know I love him. He knows it.”

"I let him continue for a few more minutes, and then I said, “Elder, I’m sympathetic to much of what you’ve said, but I must correct you on one thing: you do know God loves you. You know He does.”

"As I said those words to him, the same Spirit that had spoken to me spoke to him. He bowed his head and began to cry. He apologized. “Brother Andersen,” he said, “I do know God loves me; I do know it.” He didn’t know everything, but he knew enough. He knew God loved him. That priceless piece of spiritual knowledge was sufficient for his doubt to be replaced with faith. He found the strength to stay on his mission."

I've watched and listened to this talk multiple times, and every single time a sob catches in my throat at “He does know I love him. He knows it.” I spent a lot of years believing that because God didn't answer my prayers the way that I wanted, that he didn't love me. And yet, like this struggling missionary, I have known all along that God does love me. I gained a sure testimony of my Heavenly Father's love at 19 years of age. But somewhere along the way, I somehow forgot that lesson.

:Licks pencil and adds to the already long list of things to repent of:


Elder Anderson continues:

"Brothers and sisters, we each have moments of spiritual power, moments of inspiration and revelation. We must sink them deep into the chambers of our souls. As we do, we prepare our spiritual home storage for moments of personal difficulty."

Ahh... how true that is. Those powerful moments of witness have been frustratingly rare in my 39 1/2 years of life, especially when compared to the seemingly endless times of trial. However, remembering what I do know has made all the difference during the difficult stretches. Because, as Elder Andersen said, "Faith is not only a feeling; it is a decision." A decision to continue attending church meetings even when it seems pointless; to continue praying even when it seems that no one is listening; to obey commandments that make no sense to my mortal mind and seem to benefit me not at all.

It is during times like that I think of the words of C.S. Lewis:

"[The devil's] cause is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending, to do [God's] will, looks round upon a universe from which every trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys."

I wonder if maybe that's the major part of this test of mortality--to see how we will react when things don't go the way we planned. Like my husband said the other day: "We've already proven in the pre-earth life that we will obey when in the presence of God. We are here to demonstrate that we will obey when we're out on our own." Or something like that. It sounded much more profound when he said it.

Life is not so dark now as it once was. And while my challenges are certainly not over, remembering what little I do know (and that it is indeed enough) helps me keep my perspective while I wait for the day when I will see things as they really are.

I'd love to hear your thoughts about this talk. Please discuss.