tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-45133819115728007232024-02-21T09:11:36.076-07:00Truthful ThoughtsTamra Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09884748653343727789noreply@blogger.comBlogger90125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-47953116357645197712013-09-30T21:49:00.001-06:002013-09-30T21:59:32.277-06:00Crap Happens - But its Smell Doesn't Have to Linger...Sometimes crap just happens.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At least that's the phrase I learned from my beloved friends in Oklahoma. The idea that no matter how hard one tries to keep out of the stink of life: be it trial, misery or sadness. It still comes knocking.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Maybe that is what Helaman was trying to tell his sons, Nephi and Lehi when he told them how important it was to center their lives around the Son of God - for as he warned "mighty winds" and "shafts in the whirlwind" (I think he meant debris), or "mighty storms shall beat upon you." Aka: Crap Happens. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Such awfulness seems to be playing in my court as of late. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Last night, I experienced what it means to mourn with someone else, after she''d experienced being threatened and vulnerable. While I stood by her side, and called the police, I felt strength beyond my own. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
However, when I woke up this morning, a new found threat presented itself: Anger. The type of howdarecrappythingslikethathappentoinnocentpeople anger. And it festered, and rose within my soul as fast and subtle as yeast in homemade bread. Soon I had baked myself into perfect dish of misery. I sobbed that such things could "be" - I grieved over the existence of "wrongness" and "unfairness," especially for its presence in the lives of those I love.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And then the oddest thing happened - a glint of hope, a mere suggestion that changed my day. As I walked into the grocery store, to gather comfort in the form of: chocolate and salt, the merciful phrase came to mind: the best way to combat evil and injustice is to be more kind and loving. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Crap does happen - but it happened to the best person on earth as well - the Son of God suffered beyond all comprehension and He was perfect. And the miracle of it all? His declaration upon the cross: "Father, forgive them for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:32). </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When served injustice - He offered forgiveness. When hated He loved more deeply.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
So - what does this mean for me and perhaps for you? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
While I don't have the complete answer, I feel a bit closer. While crap does happen, it doesn't mean I have to "choose" to live in a smelly world - or to view it in the unjust way I saw it today. I have the conscious choice to give the world flagrant flowers of kindness or love like fresh homemade cookies, instead of polluting the air with more unjust anger or hatred. Perhaps this is what Christ meant when He counseled us to turn the other cheek?</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I can almost guarantee that awful things will continue to happen all around me; however, I feel blessed that through the mercy of a loving God, I can still learn how to be kind to family, friends and even strangers; and more importantly, provide our suffering world with a more abundant love.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Crap Happens, but that doesn't mean its smell has to linger.</div>
Tamra Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09884748653343727789noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-82881446344810201372013-09-23T08:23:00.003-06:002013-09-23T08:28:33.163-06:00Truth - Proclaim it.<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I started this blog in 2008, because of a challenge given by Elder Ballard in an LDS General Conference. At that time "social media" was merely a making its' way into daily life, and blogs were rather popular. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Interestingly enough, another talk/sermon given by Elder Ballard has encouraged me to try my hand again at blogging an important subject: Truth.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Sitting at my desk, this morning, I have access to thousand of databases - all with information to convince me that X, Y, or Z is the "cause" of which I should fight for. Sadly, people ARE starving in other countries, rites ARE being denied in others, and oppression reigns globally. And so, individuals, most with great motives, encourage us to stand in the lines of toleration and liberation; hoping that such causes will provide peace, validation and satisfaction. Could such virtues really provide the inner stillness we all long for?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I love this thought from Anne Morrow Lindbergh:</span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>We are aware of our hunger and needs, but still ignorant of what will satisfy them. With our garnered free time, we are more apt to drain our creative springs than to refill them. With our pitchers [in hand] we attempt ... to water a field, [instead of] a garden. We throw ourselves indiscriminately into the committees and
causes. Not knowing how to feed the spirit, we try to muffle its demands
in distractions. Instead of stilling the center, the axis of the wheel,
we add more centrifugal activities to our lives—which tend to throw us
[yet more] off balance. </i></span></span><br />
<br />
<div class="">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Mechanically we have gained, in the last generation, but spiritually we have … lost.</i></span></span></div>
</blockquote>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
</span></span><br />
<div class="">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Our world is starving for truth - Real. Truth. Simplicity that answers the question of the soul such as: Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I going? Curious for real answers? (Check out this <a href="http://mormon.org/beliefs/plan-of-salvation">Page</a> )</span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Consider the profoundness of this proclamation made in the Doctrine and Covenants:</span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> <i>For there are many yet on the earth among all sects, parties, and denominations, who are blinded by the subtle craftiness of men, whereby they lie in wait to deceive, and who are only kept from the truth because they know not where to find it (D&C 123:12).</i></span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">These words can prove helpful in our navigation for truth about ourselves and our world. When weighing information on the scales of "truth" we need to ask ourselves the motives behind information. Does it seek to deceive, to blind, or to hide? Or does it speak boldly, plainly and clearly?</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For those of us who are lucky enough to have uncovered precious gems of truth - be it secular or spiritual - are we sharing it? Consider this challenge: </span></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Therefore ... we should waste and wear out our lives in bringing to light all the hidden things of darkness, wherein we know them; and they are truly manifest from heaven - These should then be attended to with great earnestness...</i> </span></span></blockquote>
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Therefore, dearly beloved brethren, let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power; and then may we stand still, with the utmost assurance, to see the salvation of God, and for his arm to be revealed (D&C 123:13-14,17).</i></span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Such thoughts and feelings transpired within my soul - because one humble man was courageous enough to remind me of the power and plainness of truth. He
wasn't there to impress or entertain me with sensational stories or statistics. His
motive was to proclaim Truth. To help me remember that I am a child of
God with a divine purpose. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">And so I pass on simple truths to you:</span></span><br />
<ul>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">God Lives - He is Our Loving Heavenly Father</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">You are loved by God, because you are His child</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">You can talk with God by praying - and He will answer.</span></span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">These simple truths can change your life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></span>Tamra Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09884748653343727789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-66382423865601789502012-11-01T10:37:00.001-06:002012-11-01T10:40:56.044-06:00Be Grateful - Day #1 - CrayonsNovember: a month in which we should cram our brains full of blessings, instead of simply stuffing our tummies with turkey, pie and random fruit salads from great Aunt Sally.<br />
<br />
Sure, its easy to consider some of our greatest blessings to include knowledge of God, His word and the blessing of family, yet today, I want to start my November by thanking the heavens for something temporal and random, but nonetheless brings joy to my life every week: the gift of Crayons.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhenD4oO9hLzhRKvQz8KQQh0s2jeLSd3l3ts0jsHlxEt0Z_jeYztV0kS2Kg1r48mgqo_H3FulFV40aIbUyHxX7Sm_A_IpkaJSR88UU4BIvXyIwBn24Zym-IGCyUZHSrLwNjgd7wbqccGjI/s1600/IMG_7376.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhenD4oO9hLzhRKvQz8KQQh0s2jeLSd3l3ts0jsHlxEt0Z_jeYztV0kS2Kg1r48mgqo_H3FulFV40aIbUyHxX7Sm_A_IpkaJSR88UU4BIvXyIwBn24Zym-IGCyUZHSrLwNjgd7wbqccGjI/s640/IMG_7376.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
While most people are digitally marking up their calendars using iPads, iPhones, iPlanners and whatever other digital device they can get their hands on - I'm reaching deep into my desk drawer like a kindergartener, eager to wrap my hands around the perfect yellow rectangular box that reads: "Crayola 24."<br />
<br />
My 24 crayons are my best planner friends - I use yellow to mark
spiritual enrichment such as scripture study, church and temple
attendance as well as service. Orange, green and blue are used for work - the categories they represent switches frequently :).
Pink helps me to make time for me - so that I'll continue to maintain
my inner princess, it blocks out time selected for good meals and exercise.
While purple reminds me to have fun and connect with friends and family,
as well as ride my new best friend: Zee, a 5-year-old thoroughbred
mare. <br />
<br />
I've been planning with crayons weekly since January of 2011 - after being taught the principle of "spinning plates" or the sometimes impossible task most adults face of trying to maintain a balanced life. True, it seems as if the world of work is always demanding more time, more ideas, and just MORE. Without an effective time management strategy one finds his/herself surrounded by broken plates: symbolically representing good health, fulfilled dreams and goals, and general happiness.<br />
<br />
My finished product looks life this:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8PFCCCGBxxk5yHdL5xnGsZpWLHuTOmRxqyV7ZprfEuXDN5DnPl33jh3QeuXXpx7UPSqCCgmJWZsxIs6XyzYkmHxo6kuspx17rk_LFiMso9I-XyGirDpSc-rxDQ9lrvhUkwYCKfs54_TI/s1600/IMG_7378.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8PFCCCGBxxk5yHdL5xnGsZpWLHuTOmRxqyV7ZprfEuXDN5DnPl33jh3QeuXXpx7UPSqCCgmJWZsxIs6XyzYkmHxo6kuspx17rk_LFiMso9I-XyGirDpSc-rxDQ9lrvhUkwYCKfs54_TI/s640/IMG_7378.JPG" width="426" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwHmIzDzgTkhziaYZXeBtNU9GnQsbITHFm64UwQSFJllNGSRpcAQmILAT_q-KobRhnQSvXcAUKHI41oFiGr-Wcn6L3RN7ecOA3swmMk4m6U-818mOtWj2nlbw7PWef6QwBwB4eWesx-iw/s1600/IMG_7379.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div>
Endless appointments, tasks and responsibilities can become rather monotonous. Yet somehow pulling out a a while piece of paper, and strategically coloring in the lines makes life more fun, and more me: random and full of passion and color.<br />
<br />
Hence, I am grateful for the gift of crayons, that enables me to enjoy the gift of time. Tamra Watsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09884748653343727789noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-55919428792226410082012-05-11T20:22:00.002-06:002012-05-11T20:29:04.372-06:00The Dream Called Life<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xDcO4Qj02UvMwyYMoA8qcabJc1fJh7yZEwiWC1Yce9nracbtmqyeYWGyV3_iH0lE6QoJsUA227llZp-BVJFQ4g_EMCmymMa2x1xqzOyz9RIxIw1Wle7eJuxdMHakcu2dhMcOV4Q8qIE7/s1600/415393_10150742164246915_616256914_9617882_1459057935_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1xDcO4Qj02UvMwyYMoA8qcabJc1fJh7yZEwiWC1Yce9nracbtmqyeYWGyV3_iH0lE6QoJsUA227llZp-BVJFQ4g_EMCmymMa2x1xqzOyz9RIxIw1Wle7eJuxdMHakcu2dhMcOV4Q8qIE7/s640/415393_10150742164246915_616256914_9617882_1459057935_o.jpg" width="424" /></a>I've been staring at this picture all week. In the doldrum of database decipherment and the monotony of mindless money-making I long to exchange places with myself.</div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
And then my pity party is crashed by the profoundness of a prophet, President Hinckley: </div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
“Anyone who imagines that bliss is normal is going to waste a lot of
time running around shouting that he’s been robbed. The fact is that
most putts don’t drop, most beef is tough, most children grow up to just
be people, most successful marriages require a high degree of mutual
toleration, most jobs are more often dull than otherwise.</div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
Life is like
an old time rail journey…delays…sidetracks, smoke, dust, cinders and
jolts, interspersed only occasionally by beautiful vistas and thrilling
burst of speed. The trick is to thank the Lord for letting you have the
ride.” </div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
Sure all of us would love to spend endless hours on the beach, barefoot in a yellow jacket away from bawling babies, lengthy lists, or mindless managers. But as Julie B. Beck, recently reminded me, "easy" and "stress-free" living was never the dream.</div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
"The dream is eternal life - and to get there we have to go through an experience: mortality."</div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
Consider the things you learn during monotonous moments. Is it not in these moments we ask some of the deepest questions: Who am I? Why am I here? Where am I going?</div>
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
Or ponder the things you learn during from a strenuous scene in your life theater. Is it not during those climatic conflicts that you reach for a higher power, even the God of all our souls, for mercy?</div>
<div class="" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<br /></div>
<div class="" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
It is in the struggle that we learn and in the opposition that we find the fiber of our soul. </div>
<div class="" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">
<br />
"Be still and know that I am God." Be it on the beach, smiling in a yellow jacket, or in an office surrounded by marketing mayhem, we are still progressing towards the dream.</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-63019931606436886162011-12-15T16:24:00.000-07:002011-12-15T16:32:13.414-07:00Returned with Honor<br />
<em>And now, behold, I say unto you, that the thing which will be of the most worth unto you will be to declare repentance unto this people, that you may bring souls unto me, that you may rest with them in the kingdom of my Father. Amen</em>. (D&C 15:6)<br />
<br />
Between the ordinary and the mundane of life, one finds the the small, simple notes that compose a masterpiece of personal joys.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9yXMbIMHqrA9V6ONU6UlXzdgbBvGaSE7okVK75DY0AGc5qDc_H8tSvqPeySUUmyRlvD5Tj3lpgDydYDi3C_tKT_ieC-GrqAZWgqYTMFSrIisqEd0Tywa6-xA_nEfr7Vwiompi6LkPiZpq/s1600/lucas2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; cssfloat: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a></div>
Six years ago, I met a 14-year-old boy in Canela Brazil, who I have since lovingly nick-named, my little Joseph Smith. After teaching, a simple lesson in less-than-perfect-Portuguese, this boy looked at me with his big brown eyes and said: "I want to know everything about Joseph Smith." I knew then that he was a special son of God.<br />
<br />
Soon thereafter, Lucas was baptized August 2, 2005, alone with no family support, but a vibrant testimony. I was transferred out of the area only a few weeks later.<br />
<br />
Since that time Lucas and I have communicated via letters (while I was still serving) as well as email (after I came home). I was ecstatic when Lucas informed me two years ago, that he would be serving a full-time mission in the Brazil, Sao Paulo North mission.<br />
<br />
Words cannot express the joy I have felt as I have wrote and received letter after letter. Such a simple act of love has brought more happiness than I can describe. I have cried and laughed as I have read each letter of this stalwart missionary. Mostly, I've loved see the joy and light in his face as he sent me pictures like this:<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii0W9IFM8FEE2-hwrlqB1qmzVBWprlX9DF1sT2JEqZIOLmuzb9xa9JTGUIQj-MAdON8Xrid4zwisvGJ4MXmHmfVwbfZQgls2oHm2ivz5b8L2zotCumBmhuD3drczInlfcRD-Iak51f7RH1/s1600/lucas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="cssfloat: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" oda="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii0W9IFM8FEE2-hwrlqB1qmzVBWprlX9DF1sT2JEqZIOLmuzb9xa9JTGUIQj-MAdON8Xrid4zwisvGJ4MXmHmfVwbfZQgls2oHm2ivz5b8L2zotCumBmhuD3drczInlfcRD-Iak51f7RH1/s640/lucas.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<br />
Yet, today my tears of joy were different. For this very day my favorite little Joseph Smith honorably returned home to his family and friends in Canela, Brazil. He has completed a mission. <br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Welcome home Elder Lucas Schenatto, I can't wait to talk to you!</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-18060143299078215802011-08-11T17:38:00.012-06:002011-08-11T18:40:43.177-06:00Playing for Father Joe<span style="font-style: italic;">
<br />"Let's Go Rose Park!"</span>
<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">"Come on, show 'em West Side"</span>
<br />
<br /><span>Eyes focused.
<br />Knees Bent.
<br />Glove ready.</span>
<br />
<br />The crack of the bat from the opposing team. The ball soared south-west, straight toward me at alarming speed; I steadied my hand, lowered it slightly and.... GA-WHOOSH! The ball was a imprisoned in my glove.
<br />
<br />At that exact moment, I thought of one of my greatest heroes, a man who 30 years earlier had made similar catches: my dad, who I have lovingly nicknamed: Father Joe.
<br />
<br />Truth be told, my giddy-nature and love-for-the-game has no doubt been influenced by a father who still watches the World Series religiously. Yet, as I have played for the past ten weeks, I am surprised by the increase of love I have felt towards my father. It has become my favorite game, because it is HIS favorite game.
<br />
<br />Each time I have walked into the batters' box, my memory flashed back to four small kids, waiting anxiously on a front lawn in rural Utah, to hear the roaring sound of a white Chevy Sierra approaching our drive.
<br />
<br />"<span style="font-style: italic;">Pitch for us Dad, please!</span>" my brothers, sister and I would yell in unison.
<br />
<br />And he'd pause--nonetheless thinking of his legitimate reason to walk in the house after a long day at work and then chores on the farm--pushing all thoughts away, he played.
<br />
<br />Sometimes he'd stay for an hour pitching and watching us as we raced around homemade bases of irrigation boots, old bottles, or ball caps. And other times, he'd only stay for 15 minutes, so each one of us could hit at least once, before church responsibilities or farm chores called him away. Nonetheless, my brothers and sisters were delighted by every second he played.
<br />
<br />Play I did these past ten weeks, every Wednesday night, I'd pause from my adult responsibilities just like my father and enjoyed the spirit of fun.
<br />
<br />As I stepped on the field, be it at base or shortstop, I paused again to glance at my dad's favorite glove, marked with permanent black marker: WATSON. I'd smile, prepare my stance, and think: "<span style="font-style: italic;">Dad, this one's for you. I'm going to make you proud."
<br />
<br /></span><span>After some great catches, I couldn't wait until the game was over, so I could text Father Joe and say, caught one tonight: Watson Style!</span><span style="font-style: italic;">
<br /></span>
<br />These past few weeks have reminded me that our family relations are some of the best gifts we have been given. For as my hero has taught me, "<span style="font-style: italic;">In family relationships </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="emphasis">love</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> is really spelled </span><span style="font-style: italic;" class="emphasis">t-i-m-e,</span><span style="font-style: italic;"> time</span>." (<a href="http://lds.org/general-conference/2010/10/of-things-that-matter-most?lang=eng">Utchdorf, 2010</a>)
<br />
<br />For 15 short minutes, have made all the difference for me 15 years later.
<br />
<br />So let's play ball!
<br />I'm playing for Father Joe.
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-16144993721759257702011-07-28T16:38:00.011-06:002011-08-03T10:08:08.932-06:00Sacrifice and CompensationI don't really think Adam looked at God after his first sacrifice and said, "<span style="font-style: italic;">So, uh, can I eat that lamb tenderloin, because it looks ooooohhhh soooo good."</span><br /><br />So keep that in mind as you think about the content of this post, its not really about what one gets as a result of sacrifice, but the joy of realizing what comes because of sacrifice.<br /><br />On Tuesday, August 28, 2005 I was sitting in a small, dusty, garage-type room packed with five computers in Porto Alegre, Brazil. I was planning to attend the Porto Alegre Temple later that afternoon with my friend, Sister Alaina Jordan, but had stopped quickly at an internet cafe to read my weekly family email. As I clicked open the email from my dad, I read these life changing words:<br /><em></em><blockquote><em>Tamra, Rugrat got out of his pasture on Saturday and was hit by a van. Luckily the people driving were not severely injured, but Rugrat had to be put down. I heard a neigh that night, and I figured it was him thanking me for all the hay I had given him all these years. I'm sure you'll miss him</em>.<br /></blockquote>Niagara Falls gushed from my tear duct. My horse, my only horse, was dead. I had been the proud owner of horses for more than 12 years. My mind flashed back to the day I had said goodbye to Rugrat. I took him for a long ride around town, galloped him on my favorite trail, and then fed him some carrots while I stroked his neck. As mom and I drove away, he ran the fence line and whinnied as if to say, "<span style="font-style: italic;">I'll miss you</span>."<br /><br />It's been almost seven years since that gloomy news day in Brazil. Yet as I glance back with my 20/20 vision of perfect understanding, I realize how much the Lord has compensated me in "horses" because I left mine to do His work.<br /><br />I spent more than two years riding a beautiful mare named Pacer in Hyrum, Utah. Debbie, Pacer's real owner always claimed her horse was more mine than hers. We formed a fabulous relationship, and although Pacer has been sold, I still visit Debbie often.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzFX2FktnzF0qVtwVhUdYJVfNh_Zrkb4ZA_RPM0Q9TpyE-_DgRqSzL6GXYvF-rJCi7WGu971pkkaEUOTpQcS0P33KX-QOpxW8eTKcX4tByFkHD8iSpwFdaQj_w4J8pDhuKKuZgE-S7mYYG/s1600/pacer_and_me.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 460px; height: 287px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzFX2FktnzF0qVtwVhUdYJVfNh_Zrkb4ZA_RPM0Q9TpyE-_DgRqSzL6GXYvF-rJCi7WGu971pkkaEUOTpQcS0P33KX-QOpxW8eTKcX4tByFkHD8iSpwFdaQj_w4J8pDhuKKuZgE-S7mYYG/s400/pacer_and_me.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634550558509595570" border="0" /></a></center><br />When I graduated from Utah State, I feared I would never ride again. Yet, I was delighted when I was introduced to four fabulous horses: Lucy, Lizzie, Paint and Angelina, in Stillwater, Oklahoma. I spent hours on their backs, relaxing my brain from the stringent demands of academic philosophy, research and writing. For the year and a half I spent in that wondrous state, those four ponies became a lifeline.<br /><br /><center><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXS9Urj-AmbnPQ_Nzm5xLWmqnBTSOxho-_ccDBSfwzSEXM9c7zDRWqTndnSJ3r92BPUcFBz8oYKE2msZJCvkkM0-JZcXNDFYewAOcgjVT_joFOgZnxluxY2wfeAcxy2Q6J9zhQVGDrCLCW/s1600/ponies.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; cursor: pointer; width: 460px; height: 368px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXS9Urj-AmbnPQ_Nzm5xLWmqnBTSOxho-_ccDBSfwzSEXM9c7zDRWqTndnSJ3r92BPUcFBz8oYKE2msZJCvkkM0-JZcXNDFYewAOcgjVT_joFOgZnxluxY2wfeAcxy2Q6J9zhQVGDrCLCW/s400/ponies.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634550614146335778" border="0" /></a></center>Now, as an independent woman, living in downtown metropolis, I often wonder how a cowgirl ended up swapping lives with a city girl. As I spent a holiday weekend in my hometown I found myself longing to take a pony on my favorite trails. So I called up a mom of an old pony-club pal and within 30 minutes, Tikki and I were enjoying ourselves on the dusty trail.<br /><br />Since my last ride, I have realized, God truly recognizes and rewards us for our small sacrifices. I never expected to meet and ride so many wonderful horses during the past seven years, but I have, and its made my life more pleasant and joyful.<br /><br />So, maybe Adam did eat a nice lamb tenderloin after he sacrificed his best lamb; and although the superb taste of the meat left him drooling, the greater sweetness probably dawned on him as it did me: God is the source of all blessings, even those that follow heart-wrenching sacrifices.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-16098333280912587982011-07-16T22:28:00.007-06:002011-07-18T16:13:53.182-06:00Bug Signs...Coincidence or Tender Mercy?I was never one to believe is crazy signs. Yet I had a dear friend teach me last year that nature can teach us many things if we're willing to pay attention.<br /><br />My first introduction to this concept was the "Watson Penny" theory. My mother is known for her delight in finding random pennies. To her, its a simple symbol that someone else is looking out for her. I've followed my mom's example in this simple act of faith. I've found pennies before my thesis defense, my Utah job interview, and also on many horrible-no-good-days. These small tokens are tender mercies from above.<br /><br />Still, another pattern of nature has me baffled: Bugs.<br /><br />The first bug I noticed starting investing my Oklahoma apartment: Jumping Crickets. The showed up in my room and the bathroom. My roommate and I found it quite ironic, due to the fact we'd never seen these bugs before. After some silly conversations, we determined these bugs were trying to tell me to "jump into my future" with spunk and happiness. After that, we never saw another cricket. The message had been delivered.<br /><br />The second bug that became my friend was the lady bug. About three weeks before I was suppose to move back to Utah, I found multiple lady bugs on my shoulder, or knee. They paused long enough for me to notice them, and then fluttered away. As I pondered my lady bug encounters, I thought of that child nursery rhyme:<span style="font-style: italic;"> Lady Bug, Lady Bug, Fly Away Home.</span> That was all I needed. A simple answer from heaven, that truly answered my countless prayers inquiring whether I was making the right choice to graduate and move home a semester early. After I came to this realization, I didn't see another lady bug until the day I left for home. It was a sweet reminder of heaven's approval of my choice.<br /><br />Recently, obviously with the long winter, I haven't seen lots of bugs; until a few weeks ago. My new bug friend is SPIDERS. (I'm sure Ronald Weasley would not approve). I find them on my patio, in my sandwich during a picnic date, and I even found one on my arm, when I was sitting on the grass after a softball game! So naturally, do to my past experiences with the lady bug and the jumping cricket, I thought I would amuse myself this evening by googling: "symbolic meaning of spiders." I was baffled by some of information I read. Here's some of my favorites:<br /><span style="font-style:italic;"><br /><blockquote>The Spider serves as a reminder that our choices construct our lives. When the spider appears to us, its a message to be mindful of the choices we are making -- and ask ourselves: How are my choices affecting my life? How can my choices improve my life? How are my choices affecting others in my life?<br /><br />The appearance of a spider says the decision can be any direction, but just remember whatever you end up with is what you yourself have weaved.<br /></blockquote></span>As I've been presented with many choices these past few weeks, its no wonder the spider has been stalking me. I don't really believe in destiny, nor fate -- but I do believe that God uses small and simple things, like nature, to teach us.<br /><br />Yet, I do agree with Ronald Weasley who proclaimed in the second movie: "<span class="st"><em>Follow the spiders</em>? <em>Follow the spiders</em>?! <em>Why couldn't it be</em> "<em>follow the butterflies</em>?"</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-33786210005487699552011-06-14T17:11:00.003-06:002011-06-14T17:23:52.736-06:00Bandwagon Traffic Jam<span style="font-style: italic;">And now for the traffic report....</span><br /><br />We're seeing some serious backup happening between the Watson Interchange of idea central and time required. Expect some delay due to agricultural advocacy and local business development, coupled with family and church responsibilities, as well as academic goals and playful hobbies. Communication channels are expected to be sparse, random and slightly jumbled, until problems are resolved.<br /><br />Keep alert listeners, its going to be a fabulous summer.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-34475352192697634272011-06-10T22:39:00.004-06:002011-06-10T23:31:58.869-06:00A Learner in Learning LearnersvilleToday I became an academic on the outside.<br /><br />A couple of months ago, my thesis adviser suggested I submit my 100+ thesis document into a conference paper, a.k.a chop it down to 30 pages. With the switch between jobs and states, I admit, a part of me groaned at the thought of having one more thing to do. Nonetheless, I made a half-hearted attempt to produce a paper in a matter of an afternoon. I sent it off, and promptly forgot I had ever done anything with it.<br /><br />A few months later I was surprised when I read the following message in my gmail inbox:<span style="font-style: italic;"> Please find the attached acceptance notification of your paper submission for the 2011 ACE International Conference.</span><br /><br />Those words made my jaw drop like Sebastian in the Little Mermaid. In fact I began to question the integrity of academics--I did not believe my paper was up to par, given my less-than-enthusiastic attempt to submit something worthy of a conference.<br /><br />Yet, today, as I presented my work, my attitude changed. I realized good research is still good research regardless of its poorly written transitions, or a few typos disguise. The data I collected bridged a more than 20-year-old gap in agricultural communications student data. Such useful knowledge was in high demand, and screaming for the front stage spotlight. I received compliments from many different faculty and students on my ability to recognize the research gap and then rigorously attempt to fill it with something.<br /><br />Although, I must confess, the most fascinating thoughts of the day have been devoted to all those who have graduated with some type of upper-level college degree, and never attempted to distribute the knowledge they spent anywhere from six months to three years researching. Consider all the graduate studies that have been "sentenced for life" in the a thesis section of a university's library, where their only true use is to collect dust in the land of the forgotten. What a sad waste of talent and hard work.<br /><br />I loved sharing my research today, hearing the feedback, and networking with fellow academics. I have learned much as I listened to the other presenters talk about their discoveries. I gained a personal testimony similar to John Milton who believed progression towards Truth was dependent on sharing thoughts with another in the open marketplace of ideas. In essence, progression of a public's educational knowledge is only derived from healthy discussion and discourse. Truthfully and whole-heartily, I was happy to be on the market floor today.<br /><br />So to sum up my day in Dr. Seuss Language: <span style="font-style: italic;">I've been a happy learner in learning learnersville.</span><br /><span style="font-family:sans-serif;font-size:85%;"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-18500562872671352742011-06-06T17:35:00.008-06:002011-06-06T18:15:51.156-06:00Personal HorcruxesNo, I don't plan on becoming an evil wizard anytime soon, nor do I plan on trying to figure out how to be immortal now (because it will just happen later, its just a matter of time :)<br /><br />Yet, in a few ways I have been rediscovering myself with the appearance of different objects. Consider my list:<br /><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;">Chocolate</span>: my African American cabbage patch doll I bought when I was in 2nd grade (yes, I did name her chocolate as a 7-year-old kid). It was the first toy I ever bought with my own hard-earned money. She taught me the value of a dollar and I have cherished her for more than 20 years.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">My FFA Jacket: </span>The corduroy blue jacket, accented with corn gold never fails to bring a smile to my face. When I see others in that jacket, I am reminded of my personal responsibility to lead, inspire and teach others about the future of agriculture, be it the urban garden, or rural ranch. When I see my FFA jacket, something swells within that says, "You Can"<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Letters from Brazil</span>: Although its been nearly five years since I returned home from serving in the Porto Alegre North Mission, I still have a deep love for all the people who I served. This week I received an email from a man I taught and was as giddy as a girl heading to Disneyland. Each time I read about a person's eternal progress, I can't help but feel an even deeper love.<br /><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">My Okstate Sweatshirt and Blanket</span>: I stand out like a chubby kid in dodge ball when I display my Orange--Utah is all about the Aggie & BYU Blue or the Utah Red. I admit it, I did bleed blue, a strong blue (aggie and cougar), until I came into contact with Cowboy Orange; but now my soul swells the biggest when I say, yup, I'm an OSU Cowboy! GO POKES!</blockquote>Its funny how life's sweetest memories can be imbedded in small objects, similar to the fictional horcruxes penned by J.K. Rowling. I don't believe its because we actually place our soul in the object, but rather that such objects remind us of life's sweetest memories. And its in that moment, that one truly understands their own soul.<br /><br />Life is good.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-31695779841433911022011-05-24T13:32:00.004-06:002011-05-24T13:45:56.107-06:00Thoughts about The PresentCall me trunky for graduate school.<br /><br />I miss reading. I miss thinking. I miss writing.<br /><br />So I opened my own private school: Master Watson’s Academy.<br />Current Enrollment: 1, moi.<br /><br />First reading assignment: The Present, by Spencer Johnson.<br />Book Review: (see below)<br /><br />Spencer Johnson had already made my author fan club with his insightful book: Who Moved my Cheese?, a creative story about two rats and two humans that paints a realistic picture of different individuals’ reaction to change.<br /><br />Johnson’s second book used the same technique to teach me about the power of being content in the present, regardless of unmet expectations or superb blessings.<br /><br />Consider this line, “Pain is the difference between what is, and what you want it to be” (p. 39). The present can be consumed by an array of pains:<br /><br /><blockquote>Loneliness:<br /><blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;">What</span>: physical or mental isolation from God, family and friends.<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Want</span>: Pure love from God, family and friends despite words or actions.</blockquote></blockquote>Despair:<br /><blockquote><blockquote><em>What</em>: an absence of hope<br /><em>Want</em>: a reason to hope, evidence or assurance life will be better.</blockquote></blockquote><br /><br />Fear:<br /><blockquote><blockquote><em>What</em>: a lack of trust in God, life and circumstance<br /><em>Want</em>: safe and stable environment, the assurance that he/she is protected from the storms of life.</blockquote></blockquote>Failure:<br /><blockquote><blockquote><em>What</em>: the dread of mistakes, flaws and imperfections<br /><span style="font-style: italic;">Want</span>: success, perfection, recognition</blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><br /><br />True, while such a list is far from complete, all four of those pains are broadcasted daily on our personal America’s Most Wanted networks. We all feel lonely, without hope, fearful and imperfect at one time or the other. Yet, Johnson claimed the key to overcoming such consuming emotions was to “appreciate what is right at the moment” (p. 38). Such feelings allow one to become more relaxed and find joy in the present. More importantly, focusing on what is right is like installing a security system for some of our most precious joys—love, learning and laughter. Each can be felt every day regardless of circumstance. They’re gifts from above.<br /><br />Yet, living in the moment is only one piece of the puzzle, Johnson claimed. “We live in the present, learn from the past and plan for the future” (p. 67).<br /><br />How does one learn from the past? “It is hard to let go of the past if you have not learned from the past; as soon as you learn and let go, you improve the present” (p. 50). Letting go may mean admitting that one was wrong, or it may even mean accepting injustice or the result of prejudice. Hannah, it could be as simple as confessing eating an entire box of corn dogs in one sitting was not ideal. Learn and Let go. “Remember that you did the best you knew how at the time” (p. 56).<br /><br />Finally, Johnson wrote, planning for the future, reduces one’s fear and uncertainty, because regardless of what happens, he/she is actively taking a step toward his/her defined success. For me, defined successes have included serving as a state FFA officer, graduating from college, completing a mission, obtaining a master degree, and landing my dream job. Yet currently, my fears and uncertainties have doubled because I don’t quite understand what is on the next horizon. Promotions? Property? Prestige? Horse pooh. Such successes seem unworthy of my personal passion. So I’m stuck, at least for now, searching the stacks of my soul’s library for the map towards my next success.<br /><br />However Johnson’s next lesson may save me some time: “living in the present, learning from the past and planning for the future is not all there is. It is only when you work and live with purpose and respond to what’s important about the present, past and future, that is all has meaning” (p. 75).<br /><br />Aha! Now there is the key to joy in the present: purpose. An assurance of knowing that one’s personal actions are making a difference, however the difference is defined in his/her soul: preaching God’s word, volunteering to teach a language or skill in a developing country, or growing organic carrots. How small or how indifferent such actions may appear, the result brings a sustainable joy in the moment.<br /><br />Accept Today. Learn from Yesterday. Plan for Tomorrow. Live Life with Purpose.<br /><br />Such small bits of wisdom may as Johnson concluded hold the secrets to making individual happier and more successful today.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-59128177469789574982011-05-11T17:01:00.000-06:002011-05-13T14:47:03.749-06:00Current Destination: Arrived or On Route?<span style="font-style:italic;">Master Degree Recipient.<br />Marketing Specialist at Dream Job.<br />Inhabitant of big office on the second floor (window included).<br />Independent Salary and Apartment.<br /></span><br />Sure, the feminist community would throw confetti at my current situation. They may even praise me up and down for my accomplishments. Yet, somehow I remain puzzled on how I even arrived at my current destination.<br /><br />I believe the journey began at my brother's house in Sao Paulo, Brazil, nearly five years ago. As a recently returned missionary, I was browsing the computer for university programs, praying desperately for some type of program, (any type to be honest) to catch my eye so that I might transfer to Utah State for "one-of-those-ever-attractive-boys-i-was-sure-I-was-going-to-marry." My eyes landed on Agricultural Communications.<br /><br />A few months later, I browsing again when I discovered a new branding program in our state called Utah's Own. My thoughts: Maybe I'll work for them someday.<br /><br />Fast forward 5 years: I have a B.S. and M.S. in Agricultural Communications and hold the title of Marketing Information Specialist at Utah's Own. Five short years, and my casual thoughts have become reality.<br /><br />However, the irony of my situation, is my situation. (yes, I know that sounds like a line out of Hamlet).<br /><br />I refer you back to the reason I was browsing online to switch universities:<span style="color: rgb(255, 102, 102);font-size:78%;" > <span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(0, 0, 0);">I was going to marry THAT boy</span></span>. I wanted to follow the path of my sister, sister-in-laws, mom and grandmas. My professional aspirations for the past 5 years have <span style="font-style: italic;">always </span>included only two titles: Executive Wife and Soccer Mom :). Still, I won't complain about the few titles and experiences that I have acquired in my job search. Consider them internships for my desired position.<br /><br />Yes folks, in some instances I have arrived professionally ... BUT, be assured, I'm still on route for bigger and better titles. One day I'll be someone's mom.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-74455368395277428882011-01-22T21:42:00.012-07:002011-01-22T22:39:31.814-07:00Wonderful UpdatesLetter written Sept. 10, 2002:<br /><br />Tamra,<br /><blockquote>So, any hot RM's? My job's so easy! How's college? ...<br /><br />So, anyhue--the spirit is so strong here--I don't know what it is but as soon as you walk in you feel it...<br />Everyone here has told me of how they can see a change in me...<br />I've never been happier in 5 years Tamra--I WANT to get married SO SO bad in the TEMPLE!!!...<br />Oh and I want 3 kids.<br />Love, Rachel<br /></blockquote><br />New Reply: January 22, 2011:<br /><br />Rachel,<br /><blockquote>Yup, lots of hot RMs, none catch-able yet, unfortunately. College is over, I miss it.<br />I remember you when you came home from Bryce Canyon, the light that reflected from your eyes, your determination to serve the Lord--I sense that same change of heart within you now...I've kept the letter above for years...hoping one day, all those desires of yours would come true.<br /><br />You thought you were happy 9 years ago, but just wait until February 26, when you'll finally fulfill your desire to be sealed in the temple for time and all eternity...<br /><br />And the best part?</blockquote><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisp1hLZ0ZPyXnO7ZBbMZkdvVYC7Wi4OG8PdUO5fF8U97xFSBPqGJnjsUCivueMpMGQ57Okh6M_sw2BkbCIxO2wX2I-4tW2vn8szx0JODLzNttabr0Jq2ccESN3y44NcTkzo73iUgu5ZbqU/s1600/rachel_boys.JPG"><img style="display: block; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 334px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEisp1hLZ0ZPyXnO7ZBbMZkdvVYC7Wi4OG8PdUO5fF8U97xFSBPqGJnjsUCivueMpMGQ57Okh6M_sw2BkbCIxO2wX2I-4tW2vn8szx0JODLzNttabr0Jq2ccESN3y44NcTkzo73iUgu5ZbqU/s400/rachel_boys.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5565246774716177474" border="0" /></a><br /><blockquote>Three boys will be waiting to see their amazing mother, all dressed in white.<br />And I'll be blubbering in the corner, super proud of my best friend.<br />Love, Tamra<br /></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-style: italic;"></span><blockquote><span style="font-style: italic;">"Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same."</span></blockquote><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-57301245925903434952011-01-10T11:12:00.000-07:002011-01-10T11:13:42.279-07:00<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9C5xUh_XKParG2OCdBRs-BTpJb_YJtAuU0jm83XQ0Hyjdl5r-0P0MKbze3z_h1Sz9EMj2ihDUhgFy0rhIU2Zy2dBMzFR91hdsXJI5RLov7PZy5zfqpA0UhstkrVqheccDIelhXZazHqw/s1600/view.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5560621887237039906" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 239px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj9C5xUh_XKParG2OCdBRs-BTpJb_YJtAuU0jm83XQ0Hyjdl5r-0P0MKbze3z_h1Sz9EMj2ihDUhgFy0rhIU2Zy2dBMzFR91hdsXJI5RLov7PZy5zfqpA0UhstkrVqheccDIelhXZazHqw/s400/view.jpg" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"><strong>The view from my office window...It doesn't get any better :) </strong></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-47884463451772639572011-01-08T13:05:00.005-07:002011-01-08T13:40:53.874-07:00Rocking the technology :)I've gone mobile...Yup that means I can blog from my phone now. I have not decided if this mobile technology is a pro or con yet. But for a girl living in a new town it definitely has its perks, it gives me the ability to talk with friends in stillwater, Logan and Brazil all at the same time. Plus it will also provide some much needed entertainment during an eight-hour employee orientation (what could any hr office talk about for eight hours?)<br /><br />Still my enthusiasm for my new phone also has some cautions-as much as I'd love to side with the peeps who claim socializing via technology is the same as face-to-face, I have to disagree. I'm delighted I can keep up with my old friends via text, Facebook and Twitter, but I think I will still find myself longing for the sound of their laughs and the charm of their smiles. Honestly I used to believe you could really get to know someone via online communication, but as I met with a dear friend last night, I realized that after months of online chats and text messages, I recognized how silly my claim has been that I really understood him. Tis better to say I understood a small part of him. Sure, I'll always be an advocate for all forms of communication, but as in all things we must have a good mixture to stay balanced.<br /><br />Still, I plan to rock my technology.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-79203970832614781862010-12-20T20:08:00.006-07:002010-12-29T17:23:49.666-07:00Zion's Camp InspirationInspirational phrases are like boomerangs--be cautious when you use them, because they're bound to come swinging back in your direction.<br /><br />About six months ago I was asked to give a talk in church about following the Spirit, or the answers God gives us in prayer. Interestingly enough, I cited the story of Zion's Camp, the account of 500 men called to march 900 miles to redeem Zion. When these men reached their destination, the Lord told proclaimed, "therefore it is expedient in me that mine elders should wait for a little season, for the redemption of Zion." (D&C 105:13). Or in modern terms: Turn Around, Go Home Boys!<br /><br />I have found this story applies in our times--oftentimes we are called to go in one direction for a time, only to be told months or years later its time to turn around. We can moan the entire way back, or trust that the Lord has a greater plan and will truly fight our battles (D&C 105:14). Thanks Megan, for reminding me of that power.<br /><br /><script src="http://connect.facebook.net/en_US/all.js#xfbml=1"></script><fb:like show_faces="true" width="450"></fb:like>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-15998035445988824942010-12-18T21:48:00.002-07:002010-12-18T22:50:24.808-07:00For the Spirit of ChristmasThe vibration noise of my phone sounded at 8:15 am, then at 8:20, 8:25, 8:30, 8:35, 8:40 and until I heeded its call at 8:45--I had an appointment with one of Santa's elves, 9 am sharp.<br /><br />The reason? My never-to-be-released-from-my-heart of a home teacher, Brother Rigby, had cornered me a week ago about fixing the interior door-panel of my parents 1997 Ford Crown Victoria. Although named the-girl-that-would-starve-to-death-if-she-had-to-survive-by-her-hands by my dear mother, I decided to try my hands a fixing the door for my parents.<br /><br />From 9am until 4pm we concocted a way to resurrect a door panel that resembled the tributaries of the Mississippi River. More than 20 ideas were used in that garage on 6th North and 3rd East. Even more trips were made to the local hardware store. But in the end, every part was attached by screws, glue and zip ties. While the finish product does not resemble the interior of a new Lexus, (more like an armed tank), the door functioned once again.<br /><br />Such a day will remain within my hall-of-fame of Christmas memories. For twas a gift not asked for, but much needed. Twas the gift of love and practicality.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-22365263211629468082010-12-14T20:23:00.006-07:002010-12-14T21:41:12.842-07:00To the Females of Planet EarthI couldn't believe my eyes, there it was sitting in his inbox: a hate letter address to one of my favorite guys on earth, my little brother. The something-or-other addressed email that solemnly proclaims before the world: "because you were born I have the right to be miserable," complete with the tears, confetti and embellished invitations to a self-made pity party.<br /><br />Such an act, was the last on my tolerance list for pathetic girl stupidity. So I declare this bold proclamation in behalf of all males to walk the earth (who at times, I admit, have done me the favor of getting under my own skin). Still I write these words:<br /><br />Ladies, Let us stop blaming men for not fulfilling our "vain imaginations" created by stuffing our heads full of Twilight, modern-day chick-flicks and evening-sitcoms. Its time we turn off the flick and meet a REAL Nick.<br /><br />Let us cease to compare their sincere kind acts with the empty, superfluous acts of diamonds, flowers and lustful kisses portrayed on the Hollywood and Halmark screens every day. How about appreciating the awkward phone call, conversation or glance?<br /><br />Most importantly, let us put a halt to our womanly rituals that force us to cough up all our horrific relationship experiences (obviously souped up throughout the years to satisfy our pride and receive more pity) during what supposedly is intended to be a fun girls night out. Why do we continue to gauge our personal successes with our martial status? Why are the first words between long-lost single female friends, "so are you dating anyone?" Let us love each other for who we are NOW, not the person we will be in 5, 10 or 15 years.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC2IatErkRZvrrpeZygLF0wp82AsZJjysKyJ4creI4-cN-55vkjv1DUw_JR-2wIxIIw6IldgYiVXQaYT3TQt6tsyJ7XmlAMqI5PM1VrGdqDufy93Lg4j5T_QCm4LB-gpBZEfNHYbZHYzMC/s1600/6ladytremaine-tm.jpg"></a><br />Think about it...Men are looking for princesses, those found in the films we all adored as little kids: Cinderella, Aurora, Snow White, Ariel and Belle. Women who were proud to be women: soft-spoken, nurturing and beautiful from the inside out. Sadly, I believe there are far too many women imitating the wicked step-mothers, witches and villains--striking their prey or manipulating circumstances to be admired, pampered and adored.<br /><p>I guess we all could use a little reminding, myself included, that God created men and women to be equal partners, help meets and companions. One was never intended to spend a life in servitude to the other. Life was never intended to be perfect, but it was intended to be a lab for small and simple changes. Please, let us free men of our foolish and vain romantic and impossible expectations. Let us be the friend even if we desired more. </p><p>Most importantly, let us be the women God intended us to be.</p><p><br /><br /><br /></p>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-9373566953667528742010-09-20T13:48:00.002-06:002010-09-20T16:48:58.758-06:00GASP....Politics.There seems to be a negative connotation associated with politics these days. A practice once seen as an elite's liberty, now is replaced by an apathetic sigh: "well, it doesn't make much of a difference."<br /><br />I recently learned that my Grandfather had great respect for the office of the President of the United States. If someone openly criticized the position, he would politely put them in their place. He knew something about patriotic responsibility. Since I heard this story, as his grand daughter, I feel a stronger desire to understand what drove my grandfather to hold such passion for this country.<br /><br />My professor, Dr. Kathleen Kelsey also recently posed the question: "Is America a free country?" After receiving several nods from the classroom she declared: no. America is not a free country, we're a democracy--nothing comes free. Its true. We are a democracy--a country that relies on the virtue of its people to determine justice and equality. What a responsibility. If we fail, I guess we have no one else to blame but ourselves. (Wouldn't this make a great headline on CNN.com?)<br /><br />So, with my new found patriotism, I stumbled upon a Facebook--the new marketplace of ideas--link leading to an speech Elder Dallin H. Oaks gave on Constitutional Day, Sept 17. in Salt Lake City. Consider this concept:<br /><br /><blockquote>"A constitution gives the people and their elected leaders the opportunity to make many decisions that are unwise or even reckless. <span style="font-style: italic;">When that happens — when the government or one of its officials engages in some kind of action that we consider to be wrong — we should engage in vigorous public debate about it</span>. But we should not use up a constitution by attempting to strike down every ill-conceived act of government or to discredit every unwise official.<em> A constitution is the ultimate weapon, and we preserve that weapon best by using it sparingly and carefully</em>. If we call some action unconstitutional, we should be prepared to explain what provision or principle of a constitution it violates. In this way, a constitution can be used to stimulate discussion and to seek unity. </blockquote><br /><br />This quote resonated with me. It made me think of powerful words--Action. Responsibility. Respect. I think these words stirred up the same passion within me that my grandfather held so many years ago. I encourage all to read the full address <a href="http://newsroom.lds.org/ldsnewsroom/eng/news-releases-stories/-fundamentals-of-our-constitutions-elder-dallin-h-oaks">here</a><br /><br />God Bless America.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-53445035331968338332010-09-08T14:09:00.003-06:002010-09-08T14:16:38.710-06:00Food for ThoughtIts not often that I direct someone to another blog to read up on another's happenings. However, today, I am going to ask you to take some effort to read a post recently written by Seth Winterton, an agriculturist in the state of Utah. His post corresponds with many of my personal beliefs--Buy local, Build Local.<br /><br />Read the post here: <a href="http://utahsown.blogspot.com/2010/09/ride-brand.html">Ride the Brand</a><br /><br /><br />I'm curious to know the opinions of ya'll--why do we support a cheap food system? Are Mom and Pap shops really destined to be a story in history? Does it buying local matter to you? Why or why not?Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-72097379429970764052010-08-18T17:39:00.004-06:002010-08-18T18:42:15.044-06:00To My Achiever Within....<span style=";font-family:lucida grande;font-size:100%;" ><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;" >&*^%$#!</span><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span><span style=";font-family:trebuchet ms;font-size:180%;" >%$@!&*!</span><span style="font-size:180%;"><br /></span><span><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;">&%@*^%$#@!#%^&!!!!!</span></span><br /><br />"Stress is when your gut says "NO" but your mouth says, "Of course I will"<br /><br /><span>I believe I am an achievement addict (not to be confused with a recognition addict). I get a thrill out of processing new ideas, executing new activities and seeing other grow and succeed. Metaphorically speaking I am the baker who loves to select and mix all the ingredients for the perfect tasting cookie.<br /><br />My problem? Oftentimes I decide to double or quadruple the recipe and before long the dough transforms itself into a Watson Eating Cookie Monster. I give 120 percent of myself for 8 strong weeks....and then:<br /><br /><span style="font-size:180%;">Chomp! Chomp! Chomp! ...</span><br />The villain I created comes searching for its next victim...<span style="font-size:78%;">I CRASH.</span><br /><br />Someone once said, insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.<br /><br />As I am approaching my last semester of graduate school, I find myself searching for my baking hat. I've noticed myself dabbling in all the ingredients. I've even caught myself trying to make someone's cookies.<br /><br />Then I found these great cooking coaches:<br /><blockquote>1-<a href="http://scriptures.lds.org/en/mosiah/4/27a">A Good Scripture</a><br />2-<a href="http://www.lds.org/conference/talk/display/0,5232,23-1-775-38,00.html">A Good Talk</a><br />3-<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlMBcTGJ4YM">A Good Song</a><br />4-<a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8nczw6xHJ0I&feature=player_embedded">A Good Movie</a><br />5-A Good Friend<br /></blockquote>And I figure, all that matters is that I keep baking; the rest will sort itself out in the oven.<br /></span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-79921725170184426582010-08-03T18:52:00.001-06:002010-08-03T18:54:13.109-06:00My Photos<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm_pqdCj0XAmCiwMJJlucYPn4wv-KgmSKZJJwfW3wH_1HMxDKfUacXtT_yw3Ep8_Ign8-pRSMCrEPIcU8LeFl4F_mVvfq8jD4-UNGMXftKh0y2CJe_gJo8EmguNA_eselidgLIJvbYt6-O/s1600/simplelife_poster-1.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 274px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm_pqdCj0XAmCiwMJJlucYPn4wv-KgmSKZJJwfW3wH_1HMxDKfUacXtT_yw3Ep8_Ign8-pRSMCrEPIcU8LeFl4F_mVvfq8jD4-UNGMXftKh0y2CJe_gJo8EmguNA_eselidgLIJvbYt6-O/s400/simplelife_poster-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5501351479148087250" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-19112391189738318482010-07-31T14:30:00.006-06:002010-07-31T14:49:34.349-06:00Creativity Heals the SoulAs you can tell, I've been rather busy. Its been an incredibly good summer full of text book readings, random trips to Utah and photography. In between my crazy schedule I've tried to make some time for horseback riding, fun dinner nights and service. However, this past week was rather stressful wrapping up the final details of summer courses and trying to mentally prepare for Fall Semester. <br /><br />Honestly, all of us have moments when we think its impossible to go one more step, or have energy to do one more thing required of us. As I've been wrapping up my college education, I've been pondering the attitude demonstrated by Jimmy Morris, the main character of the 2002 Disney Movie, The Rookie. After finding the breaking point working towards his dream, he re-evaluates his motives and discovers joy baseball again. My favorite line happens as he re-enters the locker room after a change in attitude, he says with a big grin: "You know what we get to do today, Brooks? We get to play baseball!"<br /> <br />Today, I had such an Epiphany. I spent the afternoon designing in Adobe Photoshop. After about two hours, I felt my mind relax and I found joy in my work. Then I thought, Wow, Tamra, you know what you get to do for the rest of your life? CREATE!<br /><br />Here's my favorite creation that brought me joy today: Enjoy :)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2nADlT85O-CPSUZzxk_OZNBEB1NxO8jhmjwiFSVU7LURS2zWTdSWgN-jzB_9uhFUIiEzyCl7HIFNCRULBY64nHIs0uOQbGeQ0Y6GvYDR7Gc8nG1paHte_TVtP-eL2SDNvWK4Nu8F3CLcG/s1600/dad.png"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 600px; height: 400px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2nADlT85O-CPSUZzxk_OZNBEB1NxO8jhmjwiFSVU7LURS2zWTdSWgN-jzB_9uhFUIiEzyCl7HIFNCRULBY64nHIs0uOQbGeQ0Y6GvYDR7Gc8nG1paHte_TVtP-eL2SDNvWK4Nu8F3CLcG/s400/dad.png" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5500174696871098178" /></a>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4513381911572800723.post-54866637317551811382010-07-10T21:42:00.001-06:002010-07-14T09:17:44.558-06:00Ahem...A public safety announcement:<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);font-size:180%;" >A good reason one should wear shin guards:</span><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvCLUx2W3kn6cmMP2SFImKKqxePXzUVe64sFm8j2nxzVWAbNsTcPyFkCBG_DbjliUAH9Thmb7xyo-z9hs1fQVs7kjB_uE09VFZYmIEOUzvwpqW2iJ_3uJJn9bhyYiZIJ5a_RPUVnqdvaS/s1600/IMG_2963%5B1%5D"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvvCLUx2W3kn6cmMP2SFImKKqxePXzUVe64sFm8j2nxzVWAbNsTcPyFkCBG_DbjliUAH9Thmb7xyo-z9hs1fQVs7kjB_uE09VFZYmIEOUzvwpqW2iJ_3uJJn9bhyYiZIJ5a_RPUVnqdvaS/s400/IMG_2963%5B1%5D" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5492489109608334962" border="0" /></a><span style="font-size:180%;"><span style="color: rgb(255, 0, 0);">but I still love soccer just the same, go figure.</span></span><br /><br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2