Surviving the Distance

This Tuesday, September 16, marks exactly 6 months since Diego and I have been apart. Diego said something the other day about how fast the time has gone.

Well, I'm glad it went by fast for him because it has been the longest six months of my life. 

It's not like Diego and I are strangers to long periods of distance. You could say that that is a big part of our relationship. 

Our first shot at long distance was 8 months. I was still on my mission; Diego was at home. We didn't talk on the phone, we only wrote to each other once a week. We weren't officially in any kind of relationship, just good friends. Still, through our distance, we learned to care for each other. Time flew by then.

After two short weeks in Peru, we were apart again. This time for 9 months. A lot happened in that nine months. We broke up and got back together several times. Our relationship went through a refiner's fire. But in the end, we decided our love could be an eternal one, and got engaged. 9 months after my first trip to Peru, I returned, this time with a ring on my finger. We were together for a well deserved 2 months. It was heavenly. We went on actual dates, we talked late into the night, we were able to hold each other close.

Then separation. Again. This time it was only 3 months. Three stressful months--planning a wedding, trying to graduate from college, starting a new job, and begging immigration services to hurry up our paperwork so I could have a groom on my wedding day. Those months went by pretty fast.

May 25, 2012 finally came around. We were sealed for time and all eternity. Everything was just as it should be. 

Except not. Contrary to popular belief, Diego didn't just "become a citizen" when he married me. He didn't even become a resident for nearly a year after our wedding. Months passed. We were together, that was the good part. The bad part was that Diego wasn't allowed to work. Or go to school. Or to do anything really. 

A year passed. We had a beautiful baby girl. We were together every day. Sometimes I think we forgot about the distance. We started to take for granted the simple blessing of just physically being together.

Months and months passed. Things started to get more difficult. Diego started looking into joining the Army, something I would never have even imagined. I knew it would mean more separation. After counseling and praying together, we decided it was the right decision. I thought the separation wouldn't hurt so bad, since we had done it so many times before.

After 22 months of being together every day, we parted ways again. This time things were very different, though. I wasn't working or going to school. I had Lucia to keep me company, but sometimes that made me even more lonely. I've gained a whole new respect for single moms. Diego has thrived in the Army. He's become a fully qualifies Combat Medic. I am very proud of him.

I have tried to keep myself busy. It's hard being a stay at home mom, because technically you are always busy, but you sometimes feel like you get absolutely nothing done. It has made time seem sluggish. 

Time is a funny thing. Though it feels like an eternity since I've woken up with my husband by my side, it also seems like Lucia is growing up way too fast. She has completely transformed from a 10 month old baby to a bubbly busy toddler.

So 6 months later, and finally, this Thursday, we will all be together again. I don't know for how long this time. It could be a year. It could be more. Or less. Since Diego is active duty, I know we will be apart again.

Sometimes I cry about it. Sometimes I just accept it as part of our life together. I hope the separation will continue to help me appreciate the moments that we are together. 

With Suicide There is No Room for Judgement, Only Compassion

Since the death of Robin Williams two days ago, the entire nation, if not much of the world has had suicide and depression weighing heavily on their mind. Such a prominent, public figure who contributed so much good to the world, has certainly left his loved ones and his fans completely shell-shocked.

I have also been thinking a lot about these topics. I've been reading all the articles and blogs. Everyone seems to have their opinion about it. Everyone seems effected by depression and suicide in some way. I decided I wouldn't write about it, thinking everything important on the subject has already been written. But it's almost 3am and I'm lying in bed and I don't think I'll be able to sleep until I get this written down.

I'm sure nearly everyone has been effected by suicide in some way. For me it really started when my little sister's friend took her life at the young age of 13. I was 17, a high school senior. My sister took it hard, and started her on a long hard path down her own depression, culminating in her own suicide attempt a couple of years later.

I was 19 then. We shared a room downstairs in our parents' basement. I'd had a hard night, fighting with my boyfriend and feeling emotionally exhausted. When I got home, my sister was already asleep in her bed. She'd already taken the entire bottle of pills that she hoped would permanently take her pain away. I didn't even notice. I threw myself in the bed right next to hers and fell asleep.

The next morning I found that my sister was in intensive care in the hospital. To her dismay, she'd woken up early. She went to get my mom to tell her what she'd done. She recovered...physically. Depression is still something she deals with everyday.

At first, I was angry with her. I didn't even want to go visit her in the hospital. I couldn't believe she would try to leave without even saying goodbye. She hadn't even left a note.

Years later, I hit my own rock bottom with depression. I'd struggled with it nearly all my life and I decided I couldn't keep going. I thought about ending my life almost constantly. I'd be driving and have urges to just ram my car into a barrier or run it off the road. I remember walking across a bridge at school and thinking how easy it would be just to toss myself over the side.

I decided then that I needed more help than I was getting. I started seeing a psychologist and started taking medicine for depression. Things got better, but there were always ups and downs.

After I was married, we got pregnant right away. That may have saved my life a time or two. There would be times I'd be so down, but I'd always think, "I won't do anything to hurt this baby." I knew that if I hurt myself, I could potentially hurt her, and it wasn't her fault that I was a stupid awful person. There were nights, though, when I'd think to myself that as soon as she was born I would kill myself.

Once she was born, I discovered that she needed me, a lot. Every day since then, my reason to live has grown and grown. It has become much stronger than my reason to die.

Now, having described my experience with suicide, I want to say that every person has their unique experience. The circumstances surrounding those experiences are distinct and different for each person.

From a religious point of view, I know that only God has a right to pronounce judgement on His children. When a suicide is committed it is not a "Come grab your stone and cast it" kind of event. Even the person most intimate with the deceased could not know all the reasons and feelings behind that decision. There is no room for judgement. There is no room for speculation.

It is not condoning suicide to try to comfort those who remain to mourn. Those who are left to pick up the broken pieces of their lives deserve more than just, "Well, isn't that sad." They deserve compassion, and a listening ear. They need love. They will spend the rest of their lives trying to make sense of what happened. They don't need everyone around them telling them why their loved one did what they did and what the consequences for them are.

God loves His children. He knows each of us better than we know ourselves. He has the final word, and no one else. No person on this earth right now has the right to say where a deceased person is going to end up after this life, no matter how they parted. Leave the judgements aside, and help heal rather than hurt more. Celebrate life, cherish it.

For more information about suicide and the gospel, visit: Suicide: Some Things We Know, and Some We Do Not

Promises, Covenants, and Ordinances

In 2009, I was madly in love. I was 21 years old and dating the guy that I'd had a crush on since I was 15. It was a dream come true, and I thought it would last forever.

I was also preparing to serve a mission. I'd wanted to serve as long as I could remember and my boyfriend had promised to wait for me. He'd already served two years, and I'd written to him the entire time. Though we'd talked about getting married quite a bit, I'd prayed a lot about my decision to wait and serve a mission, and that felt right.

I remember hanging out with a mutual friend of ours one night before I left. He'd been a close friend of ours for years, and had always been willing to give advice to me and my boyfriend since the beginning of our romantic relationship three years before.

During our conversation, my friend said, "Do you really think he'll wait for you? What happens if you come home and he's not around anymore?"

The thought had crossed my mind briefly before, but I was convinced that after the three years in which we'd gone through so much together, we were sure to be able to make it through 18 more months. I assured my friend of this, to which he responded,

"But 18 months is a long time and people change."

Well, we did change. At least he did. I wasn't 3 months into my mission before my boyfriend had gotten another girlfriend.

I've been reflecting a lot on that conversation I had with my friend all those years ago since I read a blog by Matt Walsh called, "My wife is not the same woman that I married," where he addresses divorce, marriage, and people changing.

On my mission to Honduras the biggest obstacle that most adults faced when wanting to get baptized was the fact that they were living in fornication or adultery. They weren't married to the person they were living with. They would introduce each other as, "This is my husband," or "This is my wife," but the actual marriage had never been performed. They just hooked up one day and then decided to live together. They were lacking a very significant promise.

A lot of them would ask me what the big deal was. They were just like a married couple. Many of them had children. Some told me that marriage just ruined things, and that living together was the best.

They failed to recognize the significance of promises, covenants, and ordinances.

Yesterday I was able to teach a class to the Young Women about ordinances and covenants.

An ordinance is a sacred, formal act performed by the authority of the priesthood. It initiates a solemn covenant.

On May 25, 2012, around 11am, my sweetheart and I covenanted with the Lord and with each other that we would love and take care of each other and spend the rest of eternity together. The ordinance was performed by a sealer in the temple who has the priesthood authority.

The hollow promise my boyfriend made to wait for me years earlier pales in comparison to this covenant and ordinance. Because now, though we may change (and we most assuredly will, because all people do!) we have that specific, sacred covenant to anchor us when times get tough. We made a promise that trumps all change. It was done in the right way, in the right place, and with the right authority. That is what all those couples in Honduras were lacking. There was no formal commitment; either one could leave at anytime.

Making covenants and receiving ordinances doesn't mean we're set and everything is taken care of; now life is going to be a piece of cake. In yesterday's class, one of the girls pointed that out. People do break solemn covenants all the time. It doesn't mean they are unbreakable. It doesn't mean that people lose faith, and fail to draw on the strength that is offered by those ordinances.

Everyone has their agency. But those specific ordinances are there to give us strength and power to resist temptation and cling dearly to our covenants. Those precise moments in time serve as potent reminders when all the forces in the universe seem to want to rip you apart.

God's plan of happiness for His children is molded around ordinances. I'm grateful for the specific, power-invested ordinances and covenants that are so much more than mere circumstantial promises.

A Sappy Anniversary Post

It's been 2 whole years since Diego and I knelt across the altar of the Jordan River temple and covenanted with each other and with the Lord to love and take care of each other for the rest of eternity.

In that time, I have learned and grown so much. Being married is hard work. There are definitely ups and downs. I think being separated from Diego for the last 2 and a half months, though it's been extremely tough, has given me time to really reflect on and evaluate our marriage.

There are 4 really important things that make our marriage wonderful.

1. From the beginning, God has been involved.

I fell in love with Diego for a lot of reasons, but one of the biggest was that God was the most important person in his life. I knew that his love for his Heavenly Father would make him a better husband and a more loving father. And it has. He also says that is the biggest reason he married me. Because I always wanted to do what Heavenly Father wanted me to do. And since we've been married, we make sure to include Him always in the decisions we make as a couple. Our life hasn't gone AT ALL how we thought it would, but we trust that because we've constantly included the Lord in our planning, everything will work out all right.

2. We say sorry a lot (and mean it!)

That's right, the last 2 years haven't been one continuous honeymoon of marital bliss. We've had our fair share of fights and miscommunications. At the end of the day, though, we always say I'm sorry. It's always both of us that have to apologize, because it takes two people to fight, which means two people have to say they are sorry. We recognize that we are two imperfect people, trying to make a perfect marriage. Our marriage is so important to both of us, that we are willing to overlook our pride and egos to make it work. We are both pretty hot-headed at times, but it only takes one of us to cool down so that the other follows suit.

3. Our priorities are each other.

Sometimes I feel like my life is not going anywhere. I'm a college graduate who isn't doing anything with her degree. I'm sure Diego has felt like that a lot during the last 2 years as well. He was studying law in a great university, only to come here and have all those dreams flushed down the toilet. Our lives have changed dramatically since we met. But that's because our priorities are now each other. Diego probably won't end up working as a corporate lawyer and I probably won't end up getting a Master's degree, but we are happy because we have each other, and now Lucia. We make sacrifices to be together. Diego is sacrificing a lot right now to be able to provide for me and Lucia. Our marriage is the most important and more satisfying than any other dream we've ever had.

4. We will never give up.

There is a frame on our wall with the words, "Love is a daily decision." Day after day, month after month, and year after year, we must decide to love each other. We are in this for the long haul. Things get tough sometimes, but I feel safe and confident knowing that giving up on each other is not an option. 

I'm so grateful to have met and married a man as amazing as Diego Cabrera. I have no idea what the future will bring, but I know that it will be great while he is by my side. (If not physically, then at least on Skype, hahaha!)

Happy Anniversary mi vida. Te amo más de lo que puedo expresar en inglés o español!

One Year Ago

One year ago today, I was in the hospital.

I had the most amazing experience. I remember working slowly through pain, pain that was bringing an incredible blessing into my life.

After more than 16 hours of labor, my sweet Lucia Belén decided to join us here. As she cried, all I wanted to do was comfort her and let her know that I was there for her, and I always would be.

It was love at first sight.

She had a full mess of dark hair and her daddy's face.

A year ago today, I became a mom.

It has been an exhilarating ride so far. There have been some bumps and bruises, some sick days and sad days. But mostly there has just been so much happiness. More happiness than I ever could have imagined.

Some people joke that I take way too many pictures. Ha! And those are just the ones you see on Facebook.

The truth is, I wish I could have it all recorded. Every smile, every coo, every little word, wink, and wiggle. I sure hope in heaven there is a replay button, because there are little tender moments that I want to experience again and again.

Here's to many more years filled with learning, growing, laughing, and love.

Happy Birthday my Lucia. Te amo.

Inconvenient Love

This trip to Peru has been one of the most emotionally taxing trips I have ever made. It's probably because of the three times I've been to Peru, this is the first time without Diego, who is the entire reason I ever came to Peru in the first place. Also, being here has got me thinking a lot about the past, specifically about Diego's past, and how his life has so drastically changed since we got married.

When I pass the university where my husband studied law for two years, I feel a sudden twinge of guilt. When his friends ask me where he is and why he isn't with us, I feel like it is my fault.

Two nights ago, for the first time since Diego left, I had a difficult depression episode. I cried so hard I nearly woke Lucia up several times. I had to practice breathing exercises to keep myself calm. My depression logic went like this:

"If Diego hadn't married you, he never would have left his family, friends, and home. He would be here right now, probably graduated with his law degree and applying to some dream job of his. He definitely wouldn't be off in a foreign country's military."

Before, when these depressive thoughts came to my mind, I always had Diego there to soothe my worries. That night I thought instead,

"Well, he's not here now, and it's your fault."

Depression logic. Doesn't make sense, but these are the things I think.

I survived the night by focusing on breathing mostly. The next day I decided to talk to my father-in-law about my concerns.

My father-in-law is an amazing man, and very wise. Among other wise counsel, he told me this,

"Diego knew what he was doing when he married you. When he chose to love you, he knew he would be giving up a lot."

It took nearly the whole day to finally sink in. I guess I've always thought that love is a choice, and if it isn't the right choice, you shouldn't make it. But along with the "right" choice, in the back of my mind it also meant the most "convenient" choice. Obviously, love is very seldom convenient. You often have to change some plans here and there. But not your entire life. Right?

It finally hit me that Diego's love for me HAD changed all of his plans. All of the plans and ideas he'd had since he was a little boy. But he chose that love. And as a result he has a very different life than he had planned. But I have to remember why he did it. And the amazing life we have now. Different, but amazing nonetheless.

The Storm

The waves grow high
and break against the cliffs
The wind howls
The rain beats and beats
inside my heart

Blind rage, debilitating gloom
Unbound passions consume
There is no hope, merely
         empty
                    wretched
                                     ME

But then
the wind stops
the sea stills
and silence turns to peace

He walks across the water
on my sea of insecurities
and I reach out and take His hand

He calms the storm inside of me.

Para cada niña que conocí en Honduras

Hace casi 5 años me despedí de mis amigos y mi familia, mi trabajo y mis estudios para poder ir a Honduras. Fui llamada como una misionera del Señor Jesucristo con un solo proposito --invitar a las personas a venir a Él.

Llevo más de 3 años ya en mi casa aqui en los Estados Unidos, pero todavia pienso en las personas que conocí en Honduras. Las recuerdo con mucho cariño, pero en especial a las mujeres jovenes que eran mis amigas. Siempre me gustaba enseñar, pero aun más a las mujeres jovenes.

Creo que es porque cada una que conocí tenía un corazón tan bueno. Algunas se bautizaron, algunas no. Algunas se bautizaron pero dejaron de ir a la Iglesia por una razón o otra. Algunas ya eran miembros de la Iglesia. Pero a cada una de ustedes, mis queridas amigas catrachas, quiero decirles un par de cosas.

1. Todavía las amo y las recuerdo mucho. Mucho ha cambiado en mi vida desde que regresé. Me casé con un hombre increíble y después tuve una hija hermosa. Pero creenme cuando digo que mi familia saben (o sabrán) de ti. Hasta que el segundo nombre de mi hija es Belén, por una niña linda que conocí cuando estaba en Satélite. Aprendí mucho de cada una de ustedes. Fueron, son, y siempre serán una parte enorme en mi vida.

2. Todavía quiero decirles lo mismo que las decía cuando estaba en la misión. Son hijas de Dios. Hijas especiales que tienen valor más de los que pueden imaginar. En Honduras, igual que en el resto del mundo, es muy fácil olvidar eso. Es fácil dejar que un tipo te maltrata porque no te valora. Pero quiero que ustedes exigen respeto. Recuerden que son hijas de un Rey. Son bellas, cada una de ustedes.

3. Todavía testifico que la Iglesia de Jesucristo de los Santos de los Últimos Días es la Iglesia de Jesucristo aqui en la Tierra hoy. Ha sido restaurado y tiene las llaves de la felicidad y la vida eterna. Si tengan preguntas o quieran aprender más, preguntanme, o vayan aqui.

Y si quieren hablarme, POR FAVOR, mandenme un mensaje. En Facebook o si no, mi correo es hannah.de.cabrera@gmail.com. Me encantaría escuchar de ustedes, en serio.

Las amo, hermanitas, y todavia considero cada una de ustedes como mi hermana.

Sean fuertes y valientes y no se desanimen nunca!

Con mucho amor,

La Hermana Fairbrother

(La hermana fer)

(Hannah)

You have more influence than you think

"Whoever you are and where ever you may be, you hold in your hands the happiness of more people than you can imagine."

(Henry B. Eyring)

I have this habit of checking the stats of my blog every time I publish a new post. Sometimes I will sit and click refresh over and over again to see if the number of views has gone up at all in the last millisecond. Probably not the most productive use of my time, but hey, a little self indulgence every now and again isn't all bad, right?

One of the features on Blogger's statistics is showing your blog's traffic sources and referring URLs. With that, you can also see any keywords that have been used in searches that led to your blog. For me, there isn't usually anything there, since my blog isn't too high up in the search engine hierarchy. However, while casually looking at stats the other day, I noticed three different searches.

They were originally in Spanish; here are the translations.

"I hate being 15"
"I hate my teeth"
"I like him but can't talk to him because I hate my teeth"

These keywords led their searchers to a blog post of mine called I Have An Overbite...and That's Okay, which I translated into Spanish as I Hate My Teeth. (It was a little complicated to translate the title and make it sound good, so that was the next best thing, haha.)

The Spanish version of this post got a dismal number of views, according to myself, who sets higher expectations. However, by reading the keywords of searches that led to three of those views, I came to an important conclusion.

I have a lot more influence than I thought.

While it may not be true, I'd like to imagine that the individuals who typed in those searches were young women, probably with their self esteem pretty low. I would also like to think that maybe they were helped by reading the experience of another young woman who had really low self esteem but was then able to overcome it. I don't know any of that for sure, but it got me thinking.

My post could have just 1 view. And if that one view helped to brighten someone's day who needed it, or teach someone something they didn't know before, than it was worth taking the time to write the post.

In this day and age the internet has come under fire quite often as being something that dissociates us with reality and with meaningful human interaction. While that may be true on many accounts, I believe that it can also be a powerful tool for meaningful communication. And through blogging and other types of internet public discourse, it can provide meaningful communication to people you have never even met and will probably never meet.

This also means that we should be cautious about the things that we write. To quote Sara Bareilles*,

"You can be amazing
You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug..."

"Nothing's gonna hurt you the way the words do
when they settle 'neath your skin..."

So be careful. Words are so powerful. For good or for bad. So "let your words be anything but empty." Lift people up. You have more influence than you think.


*Brave, by Sara Bareilles

Tonight I Fell In Love Again

There have been some hard nights since Diego left. Tonight was one of them.

I'm a hyper-sensitive person, and it seems that I can get myself into a state of depression, or rather, just a state of "bla" over the smallest things. It could be something I see on the newsfeed of my Facebook, or a random comment by a sibling, or even just an unpleasant memory that pops into my head for no reason. Or it could be the culmination of all of the above. The point is, I was in a state of really awful "bla" tonight.

I tried to shake it by re-listening to some conference talks. Then I tried to do some Family History work. I wrote a letter to Diego. But nothing I did seemed to work. I felt absolutely "bla" and nothing was going to make it better.

Then I decided to check Diego's email. I've been checking his email and Facebook every once in a while since he's been gone just to make sure that he's not missing anything important. Out of curiosity, I decided to see how far back his messages went. The oldest message goes back to 2010 and guess who it's from.

For those who don't know, Diego and I met on our mission. He left 8 months before me, and wrote to me every week until I got home. (I had permission from my mission president to write him to, all you nay-sayers, haha.)

So tonight I started to read our emails back and forth to each other. I spent 2 hours reading, and I'm still not done. But I'm out of my "bla" mood. And I've completely fallen for that cute Peruvian elder from my mission all over again. With every email I read, I remembered what an amazing man Diego is, and why I wanted to even write back to him in the first place.

Today Elder Ballard talked about his being "persistent" when courting his future wife. Well, Diego was very persistent, and I am so grateful for it. He is my best friend. And now we get to be together for all eternity.

I guess I'm just writing this post because I miss him, and writing about him seems to be a good outlet for emotion.

Wives, don't take your husbands for granted. And if you are feeling sometimes like they are hard to love, remind yourselves why you fell in love with them in the first place! And that goes for the husbands, too!

Papito and me

Click here to view this photo book larger

Shutterfly baby photo books are the perfect way to preserve your baby's precious moments.

Pain is Pain

It's nearly 1 in the morning and I can't sleep.

Diego and I have a goal to finish the Book of Mormon by the time he leaves for basic training. That means I count how many days he has left in order to divide them into the number of pages we have left so we know how much we need to read each day.

The downside to this is that now, as the number of days remaining gets smaller and smaller, I find myself thinking more and more about how I'm going to be reading my scriptures alone soon. The thought has entered my mind several times in the last week or so and I've had to really focus in order to keep myself from crying.

But tonight I couldn't contain it. While we were reading, I told Diego I had to go to the bathroom, and escaped for a few minutes to shed some tears that had been begging to be released for some time. Then I wiped my eyes, flushed the empty toilet, and pretended like nothing had happened.

Now it's almost 1am, Diego is sleeping, and I'm still fighting back tears. I keep thinking to myself that this is not that big of a deal, that I am going to be okay. And I also think that writing about it is just going to make people feel sorry for me, or worse, get them annoyed that once again Hannah is droning on about her depressive tendencies.

I try not to write unless I have something that I think might be universally beneficial to others who read it. Which is why I'm writing. Because I was scrolling down my Facebook feed, looking at all of the people who are going through things that are much more difficult than I am, and thought, "I have no right to complain or feel sad. I don't have it so bad."

Then I learned something. Or re-learned it. Or maybe just remembered something I'd forgotten.

I have every right to feel sad.

Another person's sadness does not diminish my own, or make it any less important.

I thought about the Savior. One of my favorite stories about him is when he raises Lazarus from the dead. Well, just before he does. Because I love how he shows compassion for Martha and Mary. He didn't say, "People get sick and die. At least he didn't suffer, or at least he wasn't brutally murdered. There are a lot of people who have it worse than you. Some people lose their whole families." Or, "At least you two still have each other. And you have me to rely on." He didn't even say, "Look, I'm going to raise him from the dead. Don't cry."

When he saw Mary crying, he cried too. He acknowledged that her pain was real. Her sadness, although it would eventually go away, was there in that moment.

Tonight, someone might be sad because they have been hurt by a loved one. Another might be sad because their dog died. Different causes don't change the fact that someone is sad. Pain is pain. You can't tell someone they shouldn't feel that way just because it may not seem that important, or because there are worse things that could happen. You shouldn't even tell yourself that.

So now that I've gotten that written down, I'm going to bed.

I Know Heavenly Father Loves Me

I started writing this post a few months ago but never finished. I don't know why; I guess I felt that I couldn't adequately explain how I felt or that maybe it wouldn't come across the way I wanted it to in such a public forum. But today while I was teaching, this idea again came to mind and I shared it with the girls, so I feel like I should write it here too.

Today our lesson was, "How can I know my Heavenly Father?" Though I started reading the text of the lesson just last night, unbeknownst to me I'd been preparing for it for the last couple of weeks. I have always known that I have a Father in Heaven and that He loves me. I've felt it many times throughout my life, sometimes more strongly than others.

When I returned home from my mission I had promised myself I would always continue my personal scripture study. However, after not too long, my study habits began to relax and I found myself going sometimes weeks at a time without reading. I've made tepid attempts at getting my reading habits back to how they were when I was a missionary, but with pretty poor results.

This new year, my resolution is to read the Book of Mormon every day for 30 minutes. I've only done it once before, a whole year without missing a day. On Friday night I started to read my 30 minutes. I'm kind of a clock Nazi when it comes to my 30 minutes, so once I've started reading, I don't like anything to interrupt me. But about 5 minutes into my reading I came to a verse in 3 Nephi, chapter 27. The words that caught my attention were these,

"...therefore if ye call upon the Father...if it be in my name the Father will hear you."

It's something I've already learned, but it was like I was hearing it for the first time. When I pray, my Father really hears me. He is listening. I felt like I should write down what I had learned, or at least underline the words. But I didn't have anything to write with nearby, it was dark and Diego and Lucia were already asleep. Plus, I didn't want to get up and interrupt my 30 minutes. So I kept reading.

A few verses later came these words,

"Write the things which ye have seen and heard..."

Okay, okay. I'll look for a pencil in a second. I didn't want to interrupt my reading. Next verse,

"Write the works of this people..."

I get it. You want me to write this down. The next two verses,

"For behold, out of the books which have been written...shall this people be judged..."
"...therefore out of the books which have been written shall the world be judged."

Got it. Put down the book, go look for something to write with. I ended up spending the rest of my 30 minutes writing in my journal. I read the entire entry to my Young Women's class today.

At the end of my lesson, I started to bear my testimony to the girls about how being a mother has changed the way I understand my Heavenly Father's love. This is the blog post I started to write but never finished. But today when I explained it, it made perfect sense (at least to me).

I love my daughter more than words can express. If for some reason I were to die, or be separated from her now, she wouldn't really be able to remember me as she got older. Nevertheless, I would want so badly for her to know me. To really know me. What I look like, how I act, what I believe in. And if there were some way for her to communicate with me, I would want her to do it as often as she could. I would love more than anything to listen to her problems and her trials, and also to her joys and successes.

I know that our Heavenly Father feels exactly the same way. We are His children. He wants us to talk to Him. He wants us to remember Him, to know how He is, to know Him. He wants us to return to His presence because He loves us. I imagine that He misses us.

So here's the invitation. Hebrews 4:16

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

11 Reasons I love you

12 Days of Christmas for Husband

So I wanted to do something special for Diego this year for Christmas so I decided to do the 12 days of Christmas. I found some great ideas on Pinterest and came up with some of my own, too! I thought it'd be nice to share, since the blogs I found were very helpful!

He'd been asking for sunglasses for a while now (for when he drives) and I happened to find a pair at Big Lots. The first day is the easiest because whatever you get, you just have to get one! So make it good.

Anything that comes in pairs works great for the second day. (And the fourth, and the sixth...and so on.) Also found the slippers at Big Lots.

You can never have to many beanies, right? I found some $2 beanies at WalMart that worked great.

These are my husband's favorite bag of chips. I got the smaller bags at $1 each.

The collage frame can work for almost any of the days. I found a lot that had 8 openings, but I already had something planned for 8, so the 5 opening frame worked out perfectly.

3 pairs. $7. And he needed some new socks.

Found a 7-in-1 function tool at WalMart. Actually, it said 8-in-1 but it was counting the keychain as a function. So on the box I crossed out 8 and put 7 instead and then wrote, "Keychain is NOT a tool." Hey, it works, right?

So maybe not the most useful, but crayons are always fun, right? You have to start getting creative with the bigger numbers. I actually bought dry-erase crayons for our little white board we have at home. I'm expecting some very artsy love notes now.

Like I said, you have to get creative.

This is a coupon good for a ten minute massage. By me.

I stole this one from a blog I found. It's not easy to find things that come in 11, but your husband can always use a little more love.

Ferrero Rocher makes a 12 count gift box of chocolates. Mine is in the shape of a heart, but they had some in the shape of trees as well.

The 12 days of Christmas is PERFECT for my husband because he is so impatient for Christmas to come, and this gives him a little something to look forward to each day for nearly 2 weeks.