Wednesday, August 31, 2011

"I know that God knows and loves me!" experience

Here it is the end of the month, and HOLY CRAP August has been a busy month! I moved out, Carter came home from his mission (nice to have ya back, kid!), Ben moved to Happy Valley (not the happiest part, of course... He is a Utah boy!), and tonight we're going to be getting together to watch Ben open his mission call. Yup... It's been QUITE the month!

So today I was in the math building at school to drop something off, and since nature was calling, I walked into the old bathroom. Now, a little background - my previous 3 semesters at WSU, I spent almost ALL my time in that math building, because I was studying with friends and just trying to make it through all my math classes. So this bathroom was used quite frequently by me during those 3 semesters. However, as I walked into the bathroom, the first (and probably only...) memory that came to mind was one of my "I know that God knows and loves me!" moments. Please allow me to elaborate.

It was my first semester taking math classes at the college level since my senior year of high school, and one of my classes was Calc 2. I was SUPER nervous about taking all these math classes, but had felt like it was what I was supposed to be doing. However, after I took the first test in my calc class, I realized pretty dang quick that it was going to be a heck of a lot harder than I could've ever imagined! I took my first test, and although I had felt good about it, the next class period my score was in the range of a nice F. Never before in my life had I ever gotten an F before! So then I started freaking out, wondering if math really was what God intended for me to do, or if I should just take the easy way out and do PE. After talking to a few people, I decided to take the class until our 2nd test had been given. If I failed that 2nd test, then I would have to drop the class and find some other subject that I would want to teach.

The days leading up to that test, I worked harder than I'd had to do for the previous 3 semesters I'd already been in college. It was like getting ready for the AP tests all over again! haha. But I worked hard, and came in feeling confident about that test - until I opened it and realized that I had no idea what most of it was talking about. And that was that - pure and utter defeat in the face of adversity. Obviously this wasn't what I should be doing, I'm not smart enough for this kind of stuff, and gosh dangit I'd be a FAR better PE coach than math teacher anyways. Then, suddenly, I got a little burst of energy, and decided to just do the best I could on the test. So I did. But don't worry, the bathroom part IS coming in soon...

The next class period, I came early. I sat at the back of the room (my usual seat), and fretted about having to switch all my plans around. I was nervous, I was anxious, and my hands wouldn't stop shaking or sweating. Finally, I decided that I needed to say another prayer to Heavenly Father, asking Him to direct me in what He wanted me to do, and to do so through my score of this test. I walked into that old, stinky bathroom, and I went into my own personal stall and said a very intense, faith-filled prayer. Then I went out to see what the rest of my life was going to consist of.

Long story short, a few minutes later I returned to that bathroom with tears in my eyes so that I could say another prayer to my Heavenly Father, but this time full of gratitude. Now Heavenly Father had truly affirmed what He wanted from me. That test was my highest scoring test that I EVER got on a math test at Weber. The Holy Ghost testified to me, through that experience, that this was EXACTLY what my loving Father in Heaven had in mind for me, and to keep working hard... He would be helping me through the entire group of courses that I'd be taking in the math core. And after 3 semesters of hell that I had to endure in the math core, I can testify today that He kept His promise. He was there with me every step of the way, and I'm so grateful for it!

This is just one of many hundreds of stories I could tell about knowing and feeling God's love for me. Maybe you could tell about one of yours on your blog? Or at least write it down in your journal. These experiences happen to strengthen and help our testimonies continue to grow and flourish, and they need to be written down so we don't forget them!

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

Why do YOU work out?

So I made my brother get out of bed early this morning to go to the gym with me and help me with a few new exercises to help my workouts be more productive. It was a HARD WORKOUT (I still can't go down stairs without my legs buckling...), and a great experience (the kid has no idea that a guy his size can carry A LOT more weight than a flabby girl my size...), and I definitely feel like we bonded :)

I've gone to the gym quite a bit this summer (that means like once, twice, or maybe, MAYBE 3 times a week... but hey, that's good for me!), and I was thinking today, why do I do that? Why do I go to the gym? Then the answer came loud and clear to me... I go to the gym so that I can eat.

I know everyone is different, and everyone has their own reasons for doing things. Working out is just another one of those things. People have their excuses for not going to the gym just as much as they do for going. I thought it was funny, as I was thinking about this, that most people's response to this question would probably be something like "Because I wanna look hot in my swimsuit" or "Because I wanna lose weight," or the best answer of all, "Because I feel good after I work out." Now, I'm not demeaning any of these responses - on the contrary, each of these answers is totally and completely applicable to the person saying it. So why am I different?

Well, let's start with the fact that I LOVE LOVE LOVE food! I just love eating... It's one of those things that I will do until I'm sick. I mean, I've gotten better the last few years at not over-eating, but it still happens. And probably always will. So, in order to still feel good about myself and at least feel like I'm trying to "look good" in that swimsuit, I am given 2 choices: 1) Don't eat as much, or 2) Work out as much as you can. Would I EVER choose choice #1? NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS. Therefore, I work out. Not a lot, mind you, but enough to feel like I'm at least trying to control myself.

Oh, by the way... I ate Indonesian food tonight, and it was DELICIOUS! Haha... That's why I wanted to have an extra good workout this morning - I knew I'd be overeating later that night. Gotta love it! :P