Let There Be Light

There is so much darkness in this world. So much. There are millions of hungry, suffering children. There are murders and kidnappings. There are beggars dotting the streets in cities around the world. There is abuse and violence. This is not an easy world to live in.

Over the last three months I have witnessed much of this darkness. I work in an orphanage that is home to over eighty children, though it was built for fifty. These eighty children have been abandoned or taken from their families because of neglect or abuse. In the afternoon we go to the hospital and care for more abandoned children. I have spent hours in the ICU with sick, wheezing infants who have oxygen masks strapped to their faces. I have held children who seemed close to death, their bodies tiny and weak. I have seen children and adults alike who are missing limbs and begging in the streets for food. Yes, there is plenty of darkness in this world. Enough to even get lost in.

Then how is it that I am happier now than I have been in a very long time? How is it possible that my heart feels so full of love and praise? I know of no other explanation than this: Because of the Savior, the world is also full of light.  

I have honestly been completely puzzled by my happiness here in Romania. That sounds odd, I realize, but it is true. I expected to feel completely weighed down by the hardship that would surround me each day. I thought that my heart would be completely broken by what I would see and experience. I was wrong. Well, at least partially.

Many days I do feel the weight of the suffering that encircles me. My heart does ache for these people. I have felt deep anguish as I have come to love people who have so little and have watched as they suffer. Every time I go into the ICU at the hospital I am overwhelmed with a profound sorrow for the children there. I do experience the darkness. While I know that this is just a taste of the darkness that the children must have experienced, to me it is real and intense.

But there is something more powerful. In Genesis we read of the creation of the world.

Genesis 1:1-3

“In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.”

“And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters.”

“And God said, Let there be light: and there was light.”

I feel this same process happening inside of me every day. I step out of my communist bloc apartment building and enter the dark world. I go to the orphanage. I see hard things. I sit next to my sweet, paralyzed girl Adi and dream about the life she will never have. My heart fills with sorrow. And then, somehow, Christ enters my heart and says, “Let there be light.” And there is.

This happened to me at the hospital the other day. Again, I was in the ICU (which looks nothing like the ICUs that we are used to I might add). There is a tiny baby there with severe hydrocephalus. Because of his condition his head is large and misshapen. His giant head must weigh more than the rest of his body combined and then some. This sweet little boy does not move much and when he makes noise it is a quiet sort of whimper, as if he is too sick to even cry. A few days ago I went to check on him. I checked his diaper and it was dry. I could not pick him up because of the severity of his condition. I felt helpless. The few diapers that I left in his crib seemed a completely insignificant offering. I didn’t know what else to do so I laid my hand gently on his tummy and began to hum. I don’t know if he was even aware that I was there. I had a moment of complete despair. I knew this child was close to death but that, with the proper medical care, could probably be fine. I knew that he had been abandoned there and was now suffering without a mother or father by his side. I felt darkness weighing on my heart. But even there, God reached me. He said, “Let there be light,” and again, there was.

God whispered to my heart that He loved that little boy and that while his earthly family was not by his side, He was. I felt so much peace in knowing that someone cared, that someone understood the pain of this small child. I felt strongly that this boy would be taken care of. Someday, when he is with God, he will run and jump and play with the other children. Even is his life, the light will chase away the darkness. 

So yes, our world is full of darkness. There will be times in our lives when that darkness seems to completely overwhelm us. But somehow, if we turn to Him, God will again say, “Let there be light.” And there will be.

There is a Chinese proverb that says, “Better to light a candle than to curse the darkness.”

Every time we do a good deed, help someone in need, smile, love someone, share what we have, etc. we are adding to the light in the world. Focusing on the darkness will not make it go away. Lighting a candle will.

In John 14:18 Christ promises, “I will not leave you comfortless: I will come to you.”

I testify that this promise is real. I have experienced His comfort and care. He has filled my darkest moments with light.

Over and over again.

A Different Kind of Happy

There are different levels of happiness. There is the kind of happiness you feel when you eat waffle fries smothered in Chick-fil-a sauce. There is the kind of happiness you feel when Taysom Hill runs in for the touchdown. There is the kind of happiness you feel when you ace that biology final you have been cramming for. And the list goes on and on: summer nights, chocolate, volleyball, stargazing, and caramel popcorn. You get the picture.

Then there is a special kind of happiness--the kind that only comes around once in a while. It is the deep, swirling, start at your head and end in your toes kind of happy. And all is well in the world. Do you know the feeling?

It is this kind of happy.  

Or this kind.

This kind too.

 

This kind of happiness does not come around all that often. At least I didn’t think it did. Don’t get me wrong, I am a pretty happy kid. But until I came here, those moments when I felt the “special” kind of happiness seemed rare.

Well, that kind of happiness doesn’t seem so uncommon to me anymore. Those moments, those perfect moments of complete happiness, they happen quite often here in Romania. I don’t know exactly why. Perhaps there really is something to this “happiness in serving” theory. Maybe its because I am surrounded by adorable kids all day. Maybe it is because I feel closer to God now more than ever, and that brings happiness. Perhaps it is a combination of all three. All I know is that I am so so incredibly happy here.

Let me tell you about a few of my most recent happy moments. These are the kind of moments that just fill my heart right up to the brim.

There is an older boy in the orphanage here; we will call him Al. Al just turned seventeen and has a bright, happy personality. Al is confined to a wheelchair and is unable to talk, but he is very aware and quite intelligent. I do not get to see him often because he is not in my assigned room in the orphanage. Well, a few days ago I took my boy Dee out to play in the backyard of the orphanage. There were probably ten other children back there, including Al. As the other children ran and played together I watched Al sitting in his wheelchair. I had a tinge of sadness come over me as I watched him observe, his frail body unable to participate in the games. I walked over to Al and took both of his hands in mine. I started singing Taylor Swift “Crazier” and we danced together. Well, sort of. He squeezed tightly to my hands as I swung our arms back and forth and spun myself in circles.

Al beamed up at me and I felt it. I felt that special kind of happy. And for a moment all was well in the world.

Just a few days later I was in the hospital with a little eight-year-old boy named Rob (at least for the sake of the story). I am not sure what exactly happened to him, my Romanian isn’t good enough to understand the story, but he has severe burns completely covering both of his legs. They are wrapped in gauze but the burns are still visible. Well, despite his situation Rob is still a happy, smiley little boy. That particular day I had brought a beach ball with me to the hospital. I blew it up and me and Rob, along with a couple other interns, started hitting the ball back and forth to each other. After a while the fourteen year old boy in the next bed joined in. Rob would hit it hard at someone’s face and laugh. Someone would hit it further then they meant to and we would hurry to hit it again before it hit the floor. All of us were giggling so hard.

In that crammed, stuffy hospital room I felt it again. I felt the special kind of happiness.

Ok last story. I have written before about the little boy in my orphanage room named Dee. Well, he is a pretty wild seven year old but I absolutely adore him. Every day Dee and I play “Ninu-Ninu” together, which is how he says police. The game basically consists of him putting me in imaginary handcuffs and locking me in an imaginary cell by the bathroom. For the next twenty or so minutes I pretend to escape and he catches me and puts me back in jail. Great fun eh? Haha so the other day we were playing police and somehow I ended up sitting on the floor. As Dee got down to put me in handcuffs again he rubbed against my stomach and I giggled. (I am ridiculously ticklish. It’s a problem.) Well, this small discovery was pretty exciting for Dee and he started tickling my stomach until I was crying from laughing so hard. He thought it was just hilarious.

And there it was again. The overwhelming, perfect kind of happiness.

I used to associate happiness with relaxation. I would push through a few hard days knowing that on Saturday I would be able to take it easy. Well, I am just finishing a bout with a nasty cold and my last few days have been jam packed with relaxation. It’s really not all it is cracked up to be. All I want is to be back with my kids laughing and singing and playing Ninu-Ninu.

Being miserable is really no fun at all. May I suggest that you look for those moments in your life when you feel the absolute happiest. Look for the moments when you feel that special kind of happiness. And then, fill your life with whatever it is that made you feel that way. Is it holding your new baby niece? Great! Hold her more often. Is it singing in a local choir? Great! Do that. Maybe it is spending time in the mountains. Then you need to spend more time in the mountains. See the trend here?

Fill your life with whatever makes you happy. And I mean really, really happy. (I am not encouraging you to eat Chick-fil-a for every meal).

But Carlie, what about work and school and bills and food poisoning and potholes? We don’t have TIME for this kind of thing!

My answer? Well, as my extremely wise mother says, “You have all of the time in the world and you get to choose what to do with it.”

There are approximately eight thousand, seven hundred and sixty hours in every year. That is a lot of time to fill. Work and school are both important. So are doctor’s appointments and test reviews. But may I suggest that you fill in all of the little gaps and holes of time with things that bring you the most happiness.

It’s a beautiful way to live. 

I Am Not Their Savior

About three years ago I watched a short video in my Human Development class at BYU. The film showed footage of an orphanage in Romania where dozens of children lived. The conditions were poor and there were not enough workers to care for all of the children. They were neglected and underfed.

That’s when the dream started. I dreamed of going to that place to care for those children. I wanted to free them from the life that they were living and give them something more. I dreamed of holding them and rocking them and singing them family lullabies. I felt that my love would be enough to change their lives forever.

I finally made it to Romania this summer, planning to live the dream I had created years ago. Almost two months ago I went to the orphanage for the first time. The people of Romania have worked hard over the last couple of decades to improve the conditions of the institutions in their country. The orphanage is now much nicer and there are wonderful workers there who dedicate much of their lives to helping these children.

While important improvements have been made, the children in the orphanage are still desperate for love and attention. When I first arrived here I naively assumed that my love and care would change these children forever. I thought that I would somehow be able to lift them from this sad life they had been given.

I had the same picture for the children in the hospital.

Each day we go to a local children’s hospital and care for children who have been abandoned by their parents or whose families live far away and cannot stay there with them. There are, on average, about fifteen children each day. We change a lot of diapers, hold sick infants, blow bubbles, color in coloring books, change clothes, and try to make the children smile.

Again, when I first started working at the hospital I thought that I was going to change the lives of these children.

The longer I am here I realize that this is not necessarily the case. What we are doing here in Romania is important and definitely helpful.

But I am not their Savior.

There is someone who can take away all of the pain that these children feel, but it isn’t me. There is someone who will lift them from their current situation and fill their lives with light, but it isn’t me. There is someone who will love them unconditionally every second of every day that they live, but it isn’t me. It is Him.

Jesus Christ is the only one who can truly save these children. They have been given so little and their lives seem so empty but I know that Jesus Christ is, very literally, their Savior.

John 16: 33 “… In the world ye shall have tribulation: but be of good cheer; I have overcome the world.”

I do not know why these children have had to live their lives without families. I do not understand why a mother would abandon her child. I do not know why these precious children must suffer so much because of the choices of others. But I do know that Christ will not forget them or abandon them.

Isaiah 49:15-16

 “Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should not have compassion on the son of her womb? Yea, they may forget, yet will I not forget thee.”

“Behold, I have graven thee upon the palms of my hands; thy walls are continually before me.”

I know that Christ is aware of the children in this small orphanage in Romania. I know that he is aware of every child in the hospital. He loves them dearly. Someday they will be with Him and they will experience the joy and love and light that were not given to them here.

Now, does that negate everything that we have done and are doing here? Does that mean that none of us should ever try to help others because there isn’t really much we can do anyway?

Heavens no. We do all that we can. We try to live our lives as Christ would. As believers, we have a responsibility to spread His love and light.

I plan to give my whole heart to these children. I plan to love them all day every day while I am here. I know that what we are doing here is making a difference. We are giving these children a small piece of the love that a family would provide. We are doing what we can to care for their physical and emotional needs. That is important.

For three months the lives of these children will be a little different than usual. They will get more kisses than usual and they will spend more time in the arms of people who love them. That is a gift worth giving.

But in the end, it is Christ who will truly save these children. 

And I know that He will. 

I Deserve to be Miserable

Life sometimes is pretty much just ridiculously hard. Things happen that are unfair. There are times in our lives when we feel like things could not possibly get worse. And we are miserable.

There have been times in my life when I have let myself be consumed by the things that were going wrong. I justified my unhappiness by telling myself that I had every right to be that way.

My life is hard! I feel awful! Nothing is going my way. I deserve to be miserable.

And so I was.

Then I came to Romania.

Being in Romania is completely changing my perspective. Here I do not have to try as hard to be happy, it just kind of happens.

I recognize that I cannot understand just how hard some lives have been. I know I have not felt as much sadness or darkness as so many people in this world and I will not try to understand how they feel. I simply want to share my thoughts and feelings about a group of very happy people who have taught me so much about life.

I have ten children in my room in the orphanage: nine are confined to cribs or beds, one is mobile. One of the goals that I set at the beginning of the semester was to make each of them smile at least once a day. Little did I know, that wouldn’t be much of a challenge.

These children have almost nothing. They have no family. They live in an orphanage with dozens of other children. They stay in their beds or wheelchairs all day every single day. They cannot walk or even sit up by themselves. They cannot go outside and see the beauties of the world. Heck, half of them can’t see period. These children cannot feed themselves and over half of them have feeding tubes taped to their faces. If someone in this world deserves to be miserable it is them.

But guess what? They aren’t.

Mary giggles every time you tickle her stomach or put her stuffed monkey in her bed really close to her face. She loves to be held and she gets really excited where she hears music. She seriously laughs so so hard.

Flori has the brightest smile. She is sixteen. She just loves to be paid attention to. Flori will laugh when you pat her back or massage her tight muscles. If you put your hand right next to hers she will struggle to lift it and let you slide your hand under hers. But beware, she does not let go easily. She is just so content when she is with someone.

Dima is pretty much hilarious. He has a tiny little head that shakes so hard when he laughs. His laughs are silent. You know, the ones when you start giggling so hard that no noise comes out? That is his laugh all of the time. It isn’t hard to make him happy, just tickle his tummy a bit.

Kris flashes a huge grin every time he hears his name.  That is all it takes. Kris is honestly the happiest child that I have ever met. I have never heard him cry. When I hold him he gets really excited and forgets to breath for a minute. And he loves singing.

These are just a few of the children. All of them are so wonderful and so happy.

If these children can be happy when they have nothing, surely I can be happy too.

Now, does that mean that we are doing something wrong if we are not skipping around in the sunshine one hundred percent of the time? Of course not.

In Ecclesiastes chapter three we are taught that, “To every thing there is a season” and that there is “a time to weep, and a time to laugh.” Amongst the joys in life there will be some dark times. There will be days when we feel like the world is crashing down. It is ok, and even necessary, to feel pain and sorrow during those times.

In the Bible we are taught the story of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. Lazarus had been in the grave for four days before Christ came and his sisters were mourning the loss of their beloved brother. Christ followed Martha, a sister of Lazarus, to the tomb.

John 11: 35 “Jesus wept.”

And verse 36, “Then said the Jews, Behold how he loved him!”

Lazarus was Christ friend. Even though Christ knew that Lazarus would soon rise from the dead, He took the time to mourn the loss of someone dear to Him. If Jesus Christ, our perfect example, mourned during a difficult time then we know that we are given time to mourn as well.

And then, somehow, we must trust that there are better times ahead. We must fill our lives with things and people that we love and learn to look for the beauty of life again.

Perhaps there is not a foolproof recipe for happiness. Perhaps it is different for every person. But here in Romania I am learning what it takes for me to be happy. For me happiness is filling my life with people that I love. It is giving everything that I have, as small of an offering as that may be, to people who need it more than I do. It is trying my very best to serve like Christ would. And it is praying to God every day for help to feel full and happy.

If you think that you deserve to be miserable, you are probably right. Life is hard. You probably have plenty of reasons to feel unhappy. But if you get tired of feeling that way, make some changes. 

 Because there is plenty of happy to go around.

Holes in My Heart

They say that time can heal any wound.

I am not sure if that is true. Weeks, months, and years can pass without a heart being healed or mended. That is because it is not time in and of itself that heals the wound, but love.

About a year and a half ago I was sent home from my mission in Dnepropetrovsk, Ukraine to receive medical attention. I got extremely ill and needed to return to the states for surgery. By the time I was sent home I had been sick for about four months and I was exhausted. My mission ending early broke my heart. While logically I knew it wasn’t my fault, emotionally I felt guilty and broken.

For the next few months I felt completely empty. I had surgery and my body was weak and sick. I fought with feeling as though I had abandoned the people I had left behind in Ukraine. It was a very dark time for me.

Because I had heard that time can heal any wound, I waited, hoping that the hole in my heart would somehow fill.

Two months after coming home I got a job at the Missionary Training Center as a teacher. Our job as teachers is to help the new missionaries prepare to serve missions of their own. When I taught my first group of missionaries, that is when I first felt a change in my heart. I came to love those young missionaries and each one filled a little of the emptiness that I felt.

Over and over, God helped me see that He still loved me. When I returned home from the mission I felt unworthy of His love somehow. Thanks heavens He didn’t agree. They weren’t big moments, but little things helped me to know he was there with me: peace during a prayer, a rainbow on a hard day, gentle feelings of love in the temple.

Over the next year, little by little and almost imperceptibly, love started to fill the holes in my heart. My family and dear friends loved me despite everything and their love made all of the difference. New people came into my life and filled more of the holes.

When I left for Romania I felt different than when I came home. Not yet whole or completely healed, but better. And then God placed dozens of angels in my life to finish up the job. The love I feel here, both for the children and from the children, is filling my heart to overflowing. I know that this was a part of God’s plan for me.

Let me tell you about a few of my angels. (Because of privacy concerns, I have to change the names of the children).

My sweet little Ann. She has dark features and perfect brown eyes. Ann is seven years old but is smaller than she should be. She is confined to a crib and is unable to walk or talk. Ann is also blind. Every day I hold her and she cuddles her head into my neck. I tickle her stomach and she giggles. She has a perfect smile that fills my whole heart.

Neo. That is what I named him. His hands are light brown at the fingertips, then turn pink, and then white. Neapolitan ice cream. Neo was abandoned in the hospital. I would guess he is about two months old. He has the same dark, Romanian eyes and dark curly hair. I adore him.

Harry. We named him that because he has peach fuzz hair all over his back, legs and forehead. He was also abandoned in the hospital and is probably about two years old. He is much too skinny and is unable to walk or talk like children his age. His eyes lit up the second we would walk unto his room and he would let us hold him for hours. Harry isn’t at the hospital anymore; we are not sure where he went. I pray for him every night.

Dee. He is the only child in my room at the orphanage who is mobile. He walks with a little difficulty but can speak and he gives a lot of kisses. Dee has been in the orphanage from a young age, that is his home. He loves to play dogs and guns and clay, like most young boys. Dee hugs me when I get to work, hugs me millions of times while I am there, and again before I leave. He is full of energy and is sometimes quite stubborn. And I adore him.

There are dozens of children who have impacted me, but those are just a few. God knew that I needed to come to Romania for my heart to heal. He knew that love would fill the holes that were left there.

Time is not healing my heart. Love is. I believe in a God who is merciful and loving and patient. I am so grateful for Him putting all of these people into my life. He has never left my side.

A Daring Adventure

I read a quote the other day that said, “Life is either a daring adventure or nothing.” Well, I have been in Romania just more than a week and I can already tell that this summer will be a daring adventure.

I figured it was about time that I explained what I am doing over here in Eastern Europe. Let me fill you in. Each morning we get ready and head to an orphanage. We work at the orphanage taking care of the children there for the first half of the day. Then we walk home to have lunch. As soon as we finish lunch we walk about thirty minutes to a nearby children’s hospital. At the hospital we go from floor to floor asking the nurses if there are children without parents there. For the second half of the day we take care of the children in the hospital who have been left or abandoned. When we are done at the hospital we come home and eat dinner, pass out, wake up, and repeat. It’s a hard, exhausting, beautiful life here in Romania.

The children in the orphanage are divided into rooms based on age and level of disability. (Many of the children in the orphanage are severely disabled.) I work in the room with the most severely disabled children. They are all bedridden, most are in cribs. I spend the morning stretching and massaging their tight, deformed limbs. Some of them are ticklish. I live for their smiles.

The orphanage is a beautiful place, but it is hard for me. I feel so many emotions there. I feel anger towards the people who have abandoned these children. I feel extreme respect and love for the workers in the orphanage who devote their lives to them. I feel fear that I will do something wrong and hurt the children and fear that what I am doing doesn’t matter. I feel loneliness because I am often the only worker in the room and none of my children can speak. I feel sorrow for the children: that they have never known life outside of these cribs, that they have been rejected by the people who should have loved them the most, and I feel sorrow thinking about the lives they “could have lived”. And then, there are short burst of perfect joy. Smiles. Songs. They hold my hand.

The hospital is very similar. Lots of emotions. Beautiful moments. Yesterday at the hospital I spent two hours holding a newborn baby. He was left there and has nobody to take care of him. The nurses do what they can, but there aren’t enough workers to be with all of the children. I named the baby Neo.

I have hope for these children ONLY because of my belief in God. I believe that He loves every child in that orphanage and every child in the hospital. Because of the poor choices of others, these children live hard, dark lives. But I know that someday, somehow God will lift them out of it. Someday they will be happy and whole and strong.

All of us will have that day.

Why I Believe

I have been asked many times in my life why I believe what I do. I am not even close to perfect. I have had days of doubt and question but my days of belief have far outweighed them. I have been thinking a lot lately (again) about why I really believe all of the things that I do. And I wrote them down. I want the people that I care about to understand this part of my heart.

First let me begin with what exactly I believe. This is not an all-inclusive list, but I will try to cover the foundation. I believe that there is a God in Heaven. He is a merciful, forgiving God. I believe that He is my Father and that He loves me dearly. I believe that Jesus Christ is God’s son, my Brother. Jesus Christ is my Savior. I love Him. I believe that there is a life after this one, a place where we can live together with our families in perfect joy. I believe that living life as a follower of Jesus Christ is the happiest, most fulfilling way to live. I believe in the Bible and the Book of Mormon, that they are scripture given to us to teach us who God is and how we can follow Him. (Don’t know what the Book of Mormon is? Click here: http://www.mormon.org/beliefs/book-of-mormon).

And so, why do I believe what I do? Well, here a just a few reasons:

#1: The first reason is quite simply just because it feels right to me. No, it can’t be proven and it doesn’t make sense logically, but when I attend church services or study the scriptures or pray, something inside of me just feels right. It’s like coming home after a long trip: comfortable, peaceful, and happy.

#2: My family. Some of you may not know my family, but I think they are the most wonderful group of people in the entire world. We absolutely adore each other. Now, my family is not perfect and we have had trials and struggles over the years, but we are together and we are strong. We love each other. We support each other. I am absolutely positive that without the teachings of Jesus Christ and His influence in our lives, my family would not be what it is today. Does living the gospel of Jesus Christ make every family strong and whole and perfect? Perhaps not right now. But I believe that it will make ANY family situation better, no matter what it is.

#3: One reason I believe what I do is because of light. Let me explain. I served an LDS mission in Ukraine. The first week that I was there I was terrified. The people of Ukraine have gone through unbelievable pain and suffering. When I first arrived in Ukraine I met some cold, dark people. (Which happens in every culture). But then, I went to church. In Ukraine there are faithful members of the church, followers of Jesus Christ. They are full of light. The lives of the members are not easy, but they are happy and full of faith. I believe the way that I do because of them and the light in their eyes.

#4: I am never alone. We all have times in our lives when we face trials. We think that nobody understands us; nobody can help us. There are times when we feel utterly alone. I believe the way that I do because it helps to fill that hole. I know that Jesus Christ is constantly with me. Joshua 1:9 “…the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.” I know that I can pray to God at any time and I can feel His peace. It works. Try it. J   

#5: Healthier lifestyle. It may sound silly, but living a healthier life really is one of the reasons I believe the way that I do. We don’t drink alcohol or coffee. We don’t smoke or do drugs. We are encouraged to eat healthily. It’s a good way to live folks.

#6: Tradition. Some people look down upon believing a certain way, only because that is what your family believes. Well, It is definitely not the ONLY reason I believe, but has it played a role? Sure! That being said, if I had not been born into my family I would hope that somehow, I could find the gospel of Jesus Christ.

#7: The Book of Mormon. For those of you who don’t know, the Book of Mormon is another testament of Jesus Christ, similar to the Bible. In our church we study and try to live by both. I absolutely love the Bible. I love reading about the life of Jesus Christ and His interactions with the people in Jerusalem. But I also love the Book of Mormon. When I read the Book of Mormon I want to be a better, more Christ-like person. I believe the way that I do because I know that a book that motivates me to do so much good must be right. (To read one of my favorite chapters in the Book of Mormon, click here: https://www.lds.org/scriptures/bofm/3-ne/11?lang=eng).

#8: The final reason that I believe what I do is simply because it makes me happy. Everyone has the right to choose the way they live their life. For me, I choose to believe in God. I choose to do my absolute best to follow Him. When I mess up, and I do mess up, I seek His forgiveness. This is the life that makes me happy. My life is full of joy and purpose. Some argue that there cannot be a God because there is too much evil and pain in the world. But I believe that there MUST be a God because, despite all the evil created by mens' poor choices, there is still light and happiness. I will always believe. 

Ready, Set, Go

Today I began a new journey. I am currently sitting in the Bucharest, Romania airport. This is where I will spend my summer. Well, not in the airport. But Romania.

I woke up this morning at 4:00am and drove with my grandparents and my little sister Aubrey from Rexburg to the Salt Lake airport. I was too tired to feel much of anything until we said our goodbyes. Let’s just get this out in the open: I. Hate. Goodbyes. More than I hate muskrat soup and liver patties. More than I hate when people chew with their mouth open. More than I hate stabbing a pitchfork through my foot. (Too much? Sorry). You get the picture.

I waved one last goodbye to my dear grandmother and my beautiful sister as I rode the escalator up from security. Step one: done. The first flight was too Seattle. Totally fine. The second flight was to Amsterdam. Soooo long. I watched Blind Side. From Amsterdam we flew to Bucharest.

As we boarded the plane to Bucharest, I heard bits and pieces of people speaking Russian. As the people walked by me to board the plane, my whole body was flooded with feelings from my mission because all the people smelled like Ukraine!! 

That feeling has not left me since boarding the plane to Bucharest.

I am now sitting on my bed in our Romanian apartment and almost EVERYTHING reminds me of Ukraine. I brushed my teeth using a water bottle because the water isn’t safe to drink. The toilet paper in the bathroom is a muddy tan color, made from recycled newspaper. My bedroom has an intricate blue and tan rug on the wood floor. Our washing machine is small and much different from ours back home. The toilet flushes using a button on the top lid. The view out my window is of the city: large and full of life. I also don’t have any idea what anyone is saying so that also reminds me of the mission.

I am grateful that the Lord has given me the chance to come back to Eastern Europe. My mission was a very sacred time for me, but also a very hard time. Since being sent home from the mission a part of my heart has felt broken and empty. One reason I decided to come to Romania was because I felt as though it would be a way for God to heal that part of my heart. I know that he can. 

"I have heard thy prayer, I have seen thy tears: behold, I will heal thee" 2 Kings 20:5 

Disclaimer

I am not a blogger. I started this blog a few months ago but I never posted anything. But things are about to change. I started this blog because I wanted to document God’s hand in my life. I was going through a hard time in my life and I wanted to share with people close to me my process of healing. So the documentation officially starts today.

Now is a good time to start because I just began a new chapter in my life. I arrived in Iasi, Romania three days ago for an internship. For the next three months I will be working with developmentally disabled children in an orphanage and a children’s hospital. I am pretty nervous. Let’s be real, I am terrified. But I couldn’t’ be more excited.

Adventure is out there.