Blog #20: Reflection

I think this blog experience has been pretty fun. It has definitely made me think about who I am writing too, because I can't put things on here that I don't want others to read. Talha's experience has really made me be careful, because even people who I don't intend to read this might. Although other people are reading this blog, it is nice to have a place to write stuff down and figure out things a little better. Sometimes I don't understand what I am thinking until I put it into words, and this is a great place for me to do that. This is something I definitely plan on continuing, because it will help me to clear my mind by writing down some things and give me extra space in my head.

Blog #19: Waking Up

I have a ridiculously hard time waking up in the mornings for class. I don't know what it is, but seven in the morning is the worst time to try to get up. If I have to be up by six or earlier, no problem. Same story if it is ten or later. But those few hours in between are awful. So of course I have class at eight every day, which means trying to get up and get ready before then. I used to wake up to my phone alarm, but then started sleeping through it. So I switched to my alarm clock, and that worked for a while. Then it took both alarms to wake me up. Now I have to use both alarms and put them across the room so I have to get out of bed to turn them off. I guess if it works it's what I should do, but really? It should not be this difficult.

Blog #18: Our Religion

Tonight my roommate and I watched a documentary on the National Geographic Channel about Cain and Able. One of the ideas being presented is that many ancient cultures carry a story similar to the one found in the Bible. Those civilizations that were among the first to write had the oldest records of these writings, so some believe that the Bible was influenced by these ancient civilizations. After a few other points, my roommate pointed out that much of what was being discussed was what we as Mormons already believe, but we understand it on a deeper and more correct level. This lead us to a discussion about how many people say that all the LDS gospel is, is a compilation of bits and pieces of other religions. But actually it is the other way around. So many people and religions have parts of the truth, but they lack the whole picture and all of the different aspects that make our Church complete. We are the only true church of God because we are the only ones with a fulness of knowledge. Other know some, but no other religion has all of the truth. I am extremely grateful for the fact that I do have all the truth in my religion, even if I don't know or understand it all, because this is how I will make sure to keep myself on the right path to return to Heavenly Father again.

Blog #17: Distractions

I have decided that I get distracted way to easily. I try to work on a homework assignment, but I also want to be checking facebook or reading my life is average. Great website by the way. But the problem is that I spend way too much time not doing my homework, so then I am up forever late every night to finish up. I have a roommate who can buckle down and finish his homework so easily. It is rather impressive. I'm sure it's not nearly as fun as doing it my way, but that is probably a good thing. Maybe I just try to have fun while doing homework, and those two things generally are not a good mix. But with the semester winding down and finals looming (I love that word, it sounds so foreboding) I have to learn to focus. We shall see if it actually happens, but I really hope it does. Because I think that being able to study and do well on finals would be tight.

Blog #16: Reflection on Personal Narrative

This was definitely the hardest paper to write all semester. It was a style I have never used before, and one that didn’t come naturally to me. However, I think I learned the most about myself, not only when it comes to English, but as a person. As far as English is concerned, I learned a new way to write, and I think I got the hang of it nicely. Between my rough draft and my final paper, I know I improved a lot. I learned how to adapt to something new, to work on it until I was happy with it, and then to apply it until I had my final product. I honestly think that I did a good job on this paper, and I don’t mean that to sound prideful at all. I am just very happy with how I did. I also learned more about myself. I came to better appreciate all my experiences now that I have had the chance to look back on them. I realized how much I learned from living in Russia, and I have come to realize what a blessing that truly was. I have met many people who do not understand other people, religions, cultures, traditions, and ways of thinking, simply because they have never been exposed to any of them. It makes me sad to realize how blind so many people are. I am so grateful for everything I learned from my time in Russia, and how that has helped me to not only further my own education about the world, but to help others learn more, become more aware, and become more tolerant.

Blog #15: Final Personal Narrative

To Russia and Back

“Family meeting! Everyone come to the family room!”

“Great. Another family meeting. It’s not like any of us actually pay attention.”

I roll my eyes as I drag my feet into the family room. My dad always called these meetings to discuss what was important for all of us to know. Usually that meant talking about what was going to happen in the week, or telling us to stop playing tic-tac-toe on the baby’s diaper, or something like that. To me it was time to see how much I could goof off with my brother Jake before we got in trouble. But my parents were insistent that we have these meetings, so we gathered together distractedly.

“Well kids, your mother and I have been meeting with some leaders of the Church, and now we have permission to tell you that I have been called as a mission president to the Russia, Moscow mission and in June we will be moving to Russia for the next three years.”

I had been lying on the carpet, but before my dad could finish his sentence I was sitting upright. This was kind of a big deal. I had never been to Russia, never even really heard anything about the place, but that was the country I would call home for the three years of my life. Three years was a long time, I had only even been alive for twice that. My parents tried to explain what this calling and this move meant and why it was all happening. I could faintly hear their voices, even though they were talking normally and we were in the same room. I was still dazed by the news, and I turned attention to my own thoughts. My brain was pounding against my skull as I tried to take in this information.

“Russia. Three years. Russia. Three years.”
The next few months were extremely busy, and I felt like my life had become a whirling twister of events. My parents had to pack up everything they needed for themselves and their six kids for the next three years, fly all of us over the ocean to a new country, and live for three years in a foreign place. With the oldest of these kids, my sister Annelise, being nine years old, and the youngest, my little brother McKay, having yet to hit the one year when the call came, this task was extremely difficult. My mom, while recovering from surgery, would slowly make her way around the house, carefully packing the belongings we needed to take with us, wrapping the fragile ones in newspaper and bubble wrap. My dad spoke to us in Russian, trying to give us a head start on learning the language.

“Priviet!” My dad spoke crisply with no trace of an American accent. “That is how you say hi to kids your age. Make sure you roll the r nicely.”

“Priviet!” Somehow I could never make it sound as good as my dad, although I did learn to roll my tongue the right way.

When the time finally came to leave, relatives were sobbing in the airport. Everyone was hugging, talking frantically about how much we were all going to be missed and what a great experience we were about to have. My legs were tired, so I sat in the baby’s car seat waiting to leave. I watched with disgust at all the kissing and the crying. Of course I acted all nice to everyone because my parents were around and I wasn’t going to see these people for three years anyways.

“Can we get on the plane already? I’m tired. This is ridiculous. I swear, if one more aunt tries to kiss me I am going to scream!”

When it finally came time to load the plane I was relieved. I could sit down and finally get moving. Patience has never been my strong point, and moving to a new country definitely would not be something I could wait for well. When we finally got to our seats my brother and I took the two seats by the window. My mom passed around gum for us to chew on so that our ears would pop when the plane took off. I pressed my face to the glass as the plane taxied down the runway and began her ascent. As the ground slowly receded from view, I took my last look at America, the land I would not see again for three years, then turned towards the front of the plane and started playing the games I brought in my carry-on.
I started my elementary school experience in Russia. Day one of first grade. As if the transition to a real school wouldn’t have been hard enough, I was going in without any of my old friends and I knew that I would be alone. My school, the Anglo-American School of Moscow (AAS), was the top international school in the area. The school attended by the children of ambassadors and business men alike. What I saw was a building much bigger than any elementary school I had seen at home, where the tallest was only two floors. Next to this building easily double the size of my old school, I felt myself shrink smaller and smaller, until I was sure I would slip between the cracks in the sidewalk. It didn’t help that I had made us all late either.

“Mom do I have to go to school today? I won’t know anybody! What if I don’t make any new friends?”

“Honey, you are going to love it! Just get in there and make some new friends.”

“Mom I really don’t want to. Please don’t make me go. I don’t want to!”

“Get in there now or I will hold your hand, walk you in, and sit with you the whole time.”

And thus started first grade. I came into my classroom alone after class had already begun, so all eyes were on me. A brilliant way to start off. I looked at all the faces, and I was shocked at what I saw; the skin tones ranged from white like me to very dark brown, with every possible tint in between. I had come from Utah, where everyone I knew was white. I didn’t even know that all these different ethnicities even existed. Russia was a much stranger place than I had imagined.

This initial shock did not last long, however. Although meeting new people of different races and cultures was new to me, it was not frightening. My curiosity was very much aroused, so I set out to make new friends in this new school. One of my first friends was Dylan, the kid I sat next to on my first day of school.

“Hi I’m Spencer. Who are you?”

“My name’s Dylan. I am from India. Where are you from?”

“I am from Orem, Utah, in the United States.”

I soon learned that my classmates were from all over the world including India, China, the United States, the United Kingdom, Egypt, Canada, Pakistan, Korea, and many other places. In fact, throughout all of AAS there were kids from 46 different countries. To me it was a tantalizing blur of colors, cultures, and traditions. Being so young, I really had no trouble adapting to this new situation. In America, all the people I knew were white and Mormon. Here people were Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and many other religions. Most people dressed the way I did, jeans and a t-shirt, but walking the halls of school I passed people wearing strange clothes. One girl wore clothes that wrapped her whole body, a boy wore a strange hat on the back of his head, some girls always kept their heads covered by a shawl.

“Well if that’s what they are supposed to wear, then that’s fine by me. A little weird, but hey that’s their deal.”

My fourth grade year, my last year in Russia, was a time when I learned the most. I had to very good friends, but their backgrounds were quite different from mine. C.J. was a fellow American, but he came from Texas and was a Catholic. Salim was from Egypt, and he was a devout Muslim. To those looking on, this surely was an unlikely trio. Our backgrounds had very little in common. This did not matter to us in the slightest. We were three rowdy young boys who had common interests. We spent our time playing video games, going bowling, playing racquetball, getting into trouble, and doing what normal elementary school kids do. However, there were times when our differences were discussed. One particular instance, we were discussing the idea of Christ and His return to the earth.

“I think that Christ was a good prophet. But He wasn’t a Savior, He didn’t come back from the dead, and He won’t come back to earth,” was Salim’s answer.

C.J. thought that “Christ has already told us when He is coming again. My parents know the exact day He is coming, and I will be ready.”

I told them what I believed, that “no one knows when Christ will come again, but we should be ready for Him whenever He does come.”

As we resumed our games, I thought about how we all think differently. No one of us was exactly the same.

“It would be kind of boring if everyone thought exactly the same. No excitement at all, and no one to talk about different ideas with.”

Three short years after that plane landed in Russia, I planted my feet firmly on American soil, breathed the American air, and basked in the American sunlight. It felt good to be home. However, in talking to my friends, I was alarmed at how little they knew about the world. Telling them my stories over the years often leads them to ask what I found to be obvious questions.

“Why do Indian women put dots on their foreheads?” “Why do Muslims all want to blow up Americans?” “Don’t people dress funny over there?” How could you stand living in such a cold, dirty, poor place?”

I smile as I answer as best I can. These people have never been east of the Mississippi, some never even outside the state of Utah. How are they to know? Over the years my answers have become more and more knowledgeable, as I learn more than I ever knew. Pouring over pages of books, watching news and informational programs, looking at artwork, I try to learn more about these cultures. Not the facts, the information, the statistics. The people I knew who came from these different heritages. I established my global roots eleven years ago. Maybe now I can plant that seed in someone else.

Blog #14: Snow

Argh the snow finally came. I was hoping it would wait until school was out before it had to snow. But of course it decided to come before I wanted it. Actually I really don't want it ever. Snow is great when I want to have a snowball fight or go skiing or something. I even kind of like it when I am inside with hot chocolate and I can look out my window because then it looks awesome. Its when I have to walk around in it that I am not such a fan. But I guess I can be ok with it now, because it means that its almost Christmas.

Blog #13: Christmas Choir Concert

Last night was the first of the three Christmas concerts the BYU choirs are performing. I absolutely love to sing Christmas music, so all the practice and everything has been a lot of fun. One song in particular has really touched me. It is called Crown Him, and it is sung by all the choirs, which includes mens, ladies, concert choir, and university singers. It focuses less on the actual birth of the Savior, and more on who He is for each of us and what He has done for us. My favorite line says "He will come again to earth, every knee shall bow, every tongue confess." While I have read this in the scriptures many times, it never really hit me until now. Christ is our Savior, and while many people in the world try to fight the gospel and deny His existence, He will come to earth again to redeem His people, and when He comes in power and glory there will be no doubt. While this can be a scary thought, the song also teaches us that "He is the bread of life, the bright and morning star, the way, the truth, the life." If we come to Him we have no reason to fear, because through Him we will find eternal life. It is messages like these that make me love Christmas time and Christmas music, because it brings hope and peace to all of us.

Blog #12: Chemistry

So with a big chem test tomorrow, I have been studying hard because I really need to do well. Can I just say that chemistry and I do not got along? For some reason I can never wrap my mind around what we are even talking about. The concepts make sense, but when it comes time to actually using it and figuring out a problem, nothing seems to go right. It is really frustrating! The good news is that this is my last chem class. Hallelujah!

Blog #11: Getting ready for finals

Finals are still two weeks away, but already the stress is starting to kick in. All the little assignments and extra study time are starting to add up. I am really not looking forward to when they actually do hit, because I am sure sleep is going to be even harder to catch than it already is. I guess it is a good thing that I am starting to study now though, because then my cram sessions won't be quite so bad. But still, I can't even imagine how it is going to be later in school or in grad school, when this is the kind of stress I will probably be under all semester. One good thing coming out of all of this is that I am finally learning time management. I guess that when every second counts, you have to learn how not to waste any time. So hopefully that will carry over into next semester because this semester I know I have wasted lots of time. Oh well that's all part of being in college right?

Blog #10: Personal Narrative

To Russia and Back

The wheels set down gently as the plane finished her descent. My heart was beating rapidly as I gathered my carry-on bags and followed my parents through the portal into the airport. At six years old I hardly knew what I was really about to face, but I was nervous and excited. I didn’t fully understand why we had moved. My parents had done their best to explain to me that my dad had been called as a mission president for the church, and that the Lord needed our family to spend the next three years in Russia. I knew it must have been something important, because my parents had meet with Elder Haight of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles on a few occasions, and even taken me and my siblings along once when they got set apart. Whatever that meant. While the extent of my father’s new calling escaped me, I did know what the immediate effect was for me and my family. My parents had to pack up everything they needed for themselves and their six kids for the next three years, fly all of us over the ocean to a new country, and live for three years in a foreign place. With the oldest of these kids, my sister Annelise, being nine years old, and the youngest, my little brother McKay, having hit the one year mark less than a month previously, this task was extremely difficult. However, the sacrifice became worth it for the entire family. The exposure to different peoples, cultures, races, and traditions proved to be one of the most valuable experiences of my life, something that I still remember fondly despite the general lack of diversity I have encountered since returning to Utah.

I started my elementary school experience in Russia. Day one of first grade. As if the transition to a real school wouldn’t have been hard enough, I was going in without any of my old friends and I knew that I would be alone. My school, the Anglo-American School of Moscow (AAS), was the top international school in the area. The choice school for the children of ambassadors and business men alike. What I saw was a building much bigger than any elementary school I had seen at home, and where I probably would only spend a day or two before I quit for good. It didn’t help that I had made us all late either. I came into my classroom after class had already begun, so all eyes were on me. A brilliant way to start off. I looked at all the faces, and I was shocked at what I saw; the skin tones ranged from white like me to very dark brown, with every possible tint in between. I had come from Utah, where everyone I knew was white. I didn’t even know that all these different ethnicities even existed. Russia was a much stranger place than I had imagined.

This initial shock did not last long, however. Although meeting new people of different races and cultures was new to me, it was not frightening. My curiosity was very much aroused, so I set out to make new friends in this new school. I learned that my classmates were from places such as India, China, the United States, the United Kingdom, Egypt, Canada, Pakistan, Korea, and many other places. In fact, throughout all of AAS there were kids from 46 different countries. To me it was a tantalizing blur of colors, cultures, and traditions. Being so young, I really had no trouble adapting to this new situation. In America, all the people I knew were white and Mormon. Here people were Catholic, Protestant, Jewish, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, and many other religions. And that was fine with me. The idea of discrimination or intolerance never even entered my mind. Each person was a unique puzzle, and I got to learn about each piece that made them who they were.

My fourth grade year, my last year in Russia, was a time when I learned the most. I had to very good friends, but their backgrounds were quite different from mine. C.J. was a fellow American, but he came from Texas and was a Catholic. Salim was from Egypt, and he was a devout Muslim. To those looking on, this surely was an unlikely trio. Our backgrounds had very little in common. This did not matter to us in the slightest. We were three rowdy young boys who had common interests. We spent our time playing video games, going bowling, playing racquetball, getting into trouble, and doing what normal elementary school kids do. However, there were times when our differences were discussed. One particular instance, we were discussing the idea of Christ. Salim did not believe in Christ as a Savior, and did not believe that he would come again. C.J. believed that Christ would return on a specific date, one which he was looking forward to. I had no clue when Christ would come again, and I said so. We accepted that and moved on. An innocent discussion, no more, but this is how I learned about other people. This is how my exposure to other ways of thinking taught me to accept people and their cultures and religions.

When I returned to Utah, I was disappointed in the general religious and ethnic homogeneity I found. I returned to my friends who were all white and Mormon, just like me. It was so boring compared to what I just came from. Even more disappointing was the lack of integration between people who were different from each other. Walking down the halls of any public school I have attended, I would see white kids bunched together, talking and laughing. Across the hall was an almost identical picture, except all these kids were Hispanic. Further down was another cluster, this time the only members were Asian. People simply did not care to put in the time to make relations with people who were different. Unfortunately, this callous attitude is what I have seen reflected in many Americans since then.

The news flashes another story of a bombing in the Middle East, no doubt a Muslim extremist set out to kill all Americans, which is the final goal of Islam. Thank you news anchor for once again not having a clue what you are talking about. I have met Muslim people, I know what they are like, and I know enough about their religion to know that killing Americans is not part of it. And yet, what is common knowledge to me is information that some do not know or will not hear. Because sure enough, within the next week the news is playing a story of the retaliation of Americans against innocent Muslims in America. Such blind animosity and prejudice is all too common, because people simply do not know. Hate crimes, discrimination, and all racial, ethnic, or religious tensions, are brought about because people do not have exposure to what is different from them, and they do not seek it. The knowledge I gained in Russia has been extremely valuable, because it was shown to me that people everywhere are the same, just with variations. The diversity I immersed myself in has been a saving grace in a world so full of blindness and ignorance.

Blog #9: Writing a Personal Narrative

When I was trying to write my personal narrative for English class, I used Russia which has always been my fallback for something interesting or exciting. This may have been unique, however, because it really made me stop and think about the differences between how I live here and how I lived there. I have come to appreciate Russia even more after thinking so hard about what it was actually like to live there. Even though I was pretty young, I still remember quite a lot, and it is something that I will always love and remember. Hopefully the personal narrative can portray that, even though this is absolutely not my favorite writing style.

Blog #8: Why Don't People Care?

In my high school psychology class, we talked about the fact that many people act out of their own best interests, and relatively few are able to reach the stage of cognitive development where actions are done out of interest for what is right or what is good. That is not to say that most people are bad, but they are focused on themselves rather than on the "greater good". At the time I found this to be a rather cynical way of looking at the world. Surely people would not be so selfish as to act only in accordance to their own will. Unfortunately, I have come to see that, although people may think they want to act for the good of others, when push comes to shove they will better themselves, even at the expense of others. Perhaps that is why those who put their best interests aside to help someone else are considered heroes. They have deviated from the norm in a way that people admire. However, that admiration is rarely exemplified through actions. People are more content to look out for themselves than for others. I have noticed that with efforts to raise awareness for the Invisible Children Organization and the issues of child soldiers in Africa. While people think they want to help, when given the opportunity they often will decline. Some even consider it a waste of time, and very bluntly tell me they do not care. I simply do not understand why people would do this. Why are people so short-sighted that they refuse to see past themselves. Honestly I find it disgusting. It comes as a newsflash to a lot of people, but the world is not all about you! The faster you figure that out, the better off you will be. Because until you get out of yourself and reach to others, no one will want to reach out to you.

Blog #7: Helping the Poor

Today in my Doctrine and Covenants class we talked about giving to the poor and those in need. We mentioned people in the United States who live in a small home with four or five other families. For much of the world, these are considered the lucky ones. It made me feel terrible, because I oftentimes am so ungrateful for what I have. Almost anyone else in the world would love to be in our shoes, because no matter how poor or underprivileged we may feel, we have life much better off than almost anyone else. I think it is a good lesson for all of us. We should think of all the good things we do have, and then imagine life without them. No home, no clothes, no food, no fresh water, no family. That is reality for so many people in this world. Hopefully coming to this realization will help us all become more charitable. We can all donate our time, talents, and resources to help make life better for others. I know that I will not take what I have for granted like I have in the past, because I need to be extremely grateful to be so privileged.

Blog #6: My Sister's Mission Call

Last week my sister got her mission call. She will be serving in the Russia, Moscow West Mission. That means that she and my brother will both be going to Russia on their missions! And they go into the MTC on the same day, February 10. I can't believe that both my older siblings will be leaving the same day to go serve the Lord. It is definitely a great example for me to follow. I love both of them so much, and I am excited that they have decided to serve missions. I watch them getting excited and ready to go, and I realize how important this work really is. There is really nothing better than to bring the gospel to those who are in need. I look forward to when I will be able to serve a mission. The whole idea of being able to give selfless service and help people come to Christ and learn of Him is amazing to me. I am so grateful for the examples that I have from my brother and sister to go do the Lord's work, and I hope to become like them.

Blog #5: My Brother's Mission Call

My brother got his mission call today! I have been so nervous and so excited, so when I found out it finally came I was so happy. My brother is only 16 months older than I am, and we are very close. This whole experience has meant so much to me because my brother is such an awesome example. He got his call to the Russia, Rostov mission. This meant a lot to me and my family because when I was six my dad was called as a mission president to Moscow, Russia. My family and I lived there for three years, so Russia has a very special place in our hearts. Rostov is just south of Moscow, so he will be very close to where we used to live. This whole experience has really made me appreciate missionary work more and increased my desire to serve. I have always known that I wanted to serve a mission, but it seemed to me a huge sacrifice. The timing with school and my plans for the future seemed very inconvenient. However, I have really come to realize that when it comes to doing God's work, nothing is truly inconvenient. I would be so ungrateful if I was not willing to give up some of my time to the Lord, because the Lord has given me all. Why should I be selfish with what is truly His? I have covenanted with the Lord that I would do my part to build the kingdom of God. Part of my duty is to serve a mission. I think of all the people who are wandering through their lives without guidance, not knowing their purpose or their mission. The thought of living my whole life without the Church makes me cringe. I want others to be able to partake of the light and knowledge I have. I can see some of God's plan for me, and He continually helps me along the way, step by step. Those who have no greater picture can simply see a life, followed by death, followed by no more. That must cause so much pain and confusion. People must be constantly looking for something more, something to add meaning to this mortal existence. I have that something. I want to let others partake of that something. I want others to know of Christ's love for them, as I know of His love for me. So plain and simple I will serve a mission. I will help people come to their Savior and I will watch the happiness and the meaning enter their lives as they discover who they really are and what they are to do.

Blog #4: General Conference Part 2

This conference was absolutely amazing! So many wonderful talks and so many new insights. A talk from the Sunday afternoon session that struck me so hard was given by Elder Holland. He is one of my favorite speakers, because he has such strong faith and such a good knowledge of the gospel, but he puts everything in very blunt, straight terms so that anyone can easily understand his message. This talk was no exception. He talked about the Book of Mormon, and how people cannot honestly diminish the strength of its testimony and power. People have tried for years to disprove its divine origins, but as Elder Holland pointed out they cannot because the book is of God. He also talked about the Book of Mormon being one of the most scrutinized and inspected books in history, and yet the power from that book still is converting millions to the gospel. There is no way for men to interfere with the mission of the Book of Mormon, because God will not let them. It is His book, and He will do with it what He wants done. I really felt my testimony of the truthfulness of the Book of Mormon grow from Elder Holland's talk, and I hope that his added support and emphasis will help others come to Christ through the Book of Mormon, because it is the only book that contains the fulness of the gospel. I love the Book of Mormon, and I hope all people will have the opportunity to read it and to feel of its light and power. I hope that those of us who already know and love the Book of Mormon will do what we can to bring it to those who have not had the opportunity to read it, because we all should want the blessing of the Book of Mormon to penetrate the lives of everyone.

Blog #3: General Conference

Today a talk from general conference that really struck me was given by Elder Scott. He talked about revelation from the Lord and what we do with that revelation. What really hit me hard was when he said that if we are not receptive to the Spirit, act on revelation, and write down what inspiration the Lord gives us, we are not prepared to receive further, more important, revelation. That was a major wake up call to me. I have often tried to maintain a journal of insights I receive, but I have never been very successful. I know that it is important, and I have even felt major promptings to keep a journal. However, it has never seemed all that important to me, so I have not kept up. The idea that not recording this revelation may lead to spiritual impairment never crossed my mind, but it makes perfect sense. If we disregard promptings and revelations, or if we deem them not important enough to be recorded and remembered, why should the Lord trust us with further revelation. By showing the Lord we don't care enough to record His word, we make ourselves ineligible to hear the rest of what He has to tell us. I am sure that if the Lord spoke to us face to face we would all record His words and want to remember them forever. Why is His talking to us through the Holy Ghost any different? It isn't, and I know that I will no longer treat it that way.

Blog #2: Service

Today in church I got a great insight into why we serve. Oftentimes we think that we serve in order to help other people physically, which is true, but is not the entire reason. There is also a very spiritual side to service. We tend to recognize the two aspects of service individually, but until today I failed to connect them. We serve people to fulfill their physical needs and desires so they can be prepared for the spirit to enter their hearts. People whose physical demands are greatly lacking are not in the right mindset to feel of the Spirit. The hierarchy of needs places physical needs in a place of greater demand than the emotional and the spiritual. When we take care of physical needs we allow people to move on to add more to their lives. That addition may very well be the Spirit. By serving others we are able to enrich their lives in multiple ways, because we take care of basic needs and allow them to partake of what they once could not even consider. Once those essentials are provided, people are able to more fully complete their lives by adding the spiritual to the physical.

Blog #1: Invisible Children

Many people have heard of the Invisible Children organization. The story has been repeated multiple times of children being kidnapped and forced to fight in Northern Uganda. Unfortunately, to many people these are just stories of nameless, faceless children in a far away place. The reality never seems to sink. Tonight I watched again the documentary of these children. They are real, they have names, faces, families, friends. They are human beings in every sense, no different from us. And yet they are forced to live in conditions which I am sure would make hell on earth seem comfortable. Not only are the living conditions abominable, the sanitation disgusting, and the health risks enormous, but they must live in constant fear of rebel soldiers. The Lord's Resistance Army, or the LRA, is under the direction of a man named Joseph Koney. An evil man at best, he is responsible for the thousands of kidnappings and deaths that have spanned nearly two decades of war. Because of him and his army, children are in constant danger of being kidnapped, beaten, raped, tortured, and killed. These children are invisible to the world. People are uncomfortable discussing such atrocities, so they cast them aside. That is the wrong response. We must do more. We must take action to end such criminal atrocities. The Invisible Children organization is dedicated to ending the war in Uganda and returning child soldiers to their homes, providing education, work, healthcare, and a better life to those who currently are fighting or living in displacement camps. Such a cause must not go unnoticed. There is no partisanship, no true enemy to such a cause. Yet support is not strong enough because people lack the empathy to stand up. All that is required is time, communication, money, talents, whatever one is willing to give of. We must do our part to end the war in Uganda and save the lives of thousands who will otherwise perish. We are the last resort. It is our task, our duty, our responsibility to make sure these children are no longer overlooked. We must stand strong. I feel very strongly about this cause, because I cannot bear to look in the face of a child and see such pain, such terror, as I saw in the faces of these African children. The innocence of youth is fading, and for many Ugandan children, it will be lost forever if we do not act now.