It's bad when Satan believes in you more than you do...

Life has been an interesting adventure as of late.

Things are tough. As the days drag closer to the mission, I anticipate it getting more difficult. Honestly, that surprises me. Satan attacks those he knows will do well. Those who will greatly thwart his plan in destroying Father's plan. I am not a teacher, by any means. I am argumentative, not often sensitive to the needs of others. I have read the Standard Works, but can I quote them or even locate scriptures when I need to? Nope. I can't speak in public without sounding exceptionally awkward (unless you want to hear about Grandma getting tased or getting pulled over.) In short, I am not a missionary.

So why is Satan wasting time on me? I don't really anticipate being able to put a crazy dent in his plan to lead the Children of Men astray. I just think it's funny that Satan, the one whose goal is to destroy everyone and to make us all miserable like himself, believes in my ability to be a missionary then I do. That's just funny. And sad. Haha, and awkward.

Satan is doing a good job of stressing me out. Finances. Selling my car. Packing things up. Making sure I have everything I need. Then on top of that, he's doing his best to make me doubt myself. Not that I'm supposed to go on a mission - I know that I am. It's one of the few things in life that I actually do know. But in me. Errant thoughts of things like "Yikes, a good mormon probably wouldn't have had 4 Dr. Pepper's this afternoon." or "That would have been a perfect missionary opportunity." but not noticing until after the person has walked away. Oops. Or "well, that person must never have wanted to hang out with me in the first place. What must be wrong with me?"

These aren't thoughts I normally have! My former (like 4 formers, but that's splitting hairs) had their entire bathroom decorated in Dr. Pepper motif!
You know what, I'm not a missionary yet. The point is to learn to recognize those moments (in time) and then learn to act on them. It's okay not to be there today.
If that person doesn't want to hang out with me, that's okay.

When I was younger, I had a huge chip on my shoulder. Partly because of my past, and partly from teenage angst but I really felt like I related to that song by Mark Willis, "Don't laugh at me" At one point the song says, "You don't have to be my friend, if it's too much to ask." Yeah. That was me. I had a few friends. And while I yearned to be a part of a group, any group. I wasn't. I didn't know how to reach out. I didn't know how to be a friend. Some people are content being alone. I was not one of those. I wasn't just alone, I was intensely lonely. But I learned to let go a little. Realized that I couldn't control everything. Learned to trust the people around me, even if just a little. I started having friends.

Then life got complicated again. My world shattered, hard and fast a bunch of times in a short period of time. Friends were dying, dropping like flies around me; killed in tragic accidents, suicide, alcohol poisoning. I was attacked. My best friends' Grandpa died (who was so much more my grandfather then anyone else had been at that point.) My Grams died. Later, that same best friends' dad (who again, was more father then I'd ever had) died, followed a few short weeks later by my own dad. Then I was attacked again. And twice, the legal system failed me. Both times, I was left to deal with injustice alone. And I clamped inward again. (I like to think that before this life, I must have gotten into a line saying that I was going to get all of my bad days out of the way really early.) Starting from square one. Eventually, I pushed through. I pulled myself out of.. myself. I learned that I'm not like most people my age. This is where Satan gets me. I look at people around me who are always hanging out on the weekends, and I see my ward doing so well with bonding. And I sometimes feel an intense longing. Satan whispers that I don't belong. That I don't fit in. They don't understand me, that they think I'm boring.
I have to remind myself that it's okay. It's okay to be different. I'm a lot more serious by nature. I'm not that person that will ask what's going on this weekend, in hopes to be invited to the party. I won't ask you to sit by me in church. I won't ask for a ride (unless it's 2 am, and walking home would be dumb and unsafe.) I'm not that girl that will invite herself into a conversation. In all honesty, I don't really enjoy parties. I like small groups. Movie nights, game nights. I'm all in for those (and will shamelessly invite myself over for those!)

And again, I'm surprised by how much Satan must believe in me, because really? I'm not that awesome. I can time a joke (sometimes) and am a formidable foe when it comes to prank wars. I feel like I don't give extremely lame hugs. (Need a hug? I've got those!) and once I'm really comfortable around you, you'll probably see shenanigans and silliness.

 In all honesty, I worry about the future. If Satan is trying this hard now to break me, what will the future hold? My mission is either going to make me, or break me. Yikes!

I've learned some pretty great things though,
Up until recently, I didn't see any kind of dating or marriage in my future. Partially because the drama of it all is way beyond me. I don't dig drama. But the other part because I really suck at trusting people.  No really, like all people. It wasn't until January of this year that I really entertained the idea of trusting God. And if you can't trust Him, there literally is nobody you can trust. Then I went to the Temple and got to help with sealing families together for time and all eternity. (That caused a talk-of-shame with the Big guy that went something like this.
Me: "Okay, okay. I get it. This is part of the plan. I have to be obedient. I guess I COULD get married... eventually.."
*zap, zap, zap, zap, zap* (I felt like I was being tased. My heart was pounding so hard.)
 Me: Okay! I got it! I take it all back. I'll get married (mumble, mumble, after the mission) It's possible!)

It's funny, I really don't have these insecurities anymore. They were a huge part of my past, but now? I'm okay with who I am. And the aspects that I don't like, I'm constantly working on changing. I am okay with being a more serious and introspective person. I am okay with not being a partier. So why am I being hit with pangs of sadness when I find out that I've been stood up for plans, or that I was not invited to a party? Because Satan believes in me more then I do.

In other news, the best conversation I've had in a while:
"Whatever, Jesus would've had a kindle if he couldve. Prolly an Iphone too."
"As a perfect texter, would He use proper grammar?"
"And if it's good enough for jesus, why wouldn't it be good enough for you?? You should really talk to someone about this!"
 "Hahaha, that would settle the great Android vs Iphone debate. 'Iphone, the brand Jesus would use!'"

Anyhow, wizarding world of the world wide web. Happy Memorial Day weekend. Don't forget to remember our Vets and service people; they give up a lot, to fight for us and our freedoms. (PS. Don't spend an hour youtube-ing surprise military reunions, unless you want to cry. If you want to cry and you just can't force the tears out. Go watch.)

Thank you Veterans. Thank you active service people. Thank you for giving up YOUR time, your families and your lives, so that I can enjoy mine. Your deeds are not forgotten.