You Put Your Right Foot In...

Dear Little Sister,
Sorry I didn't write you anything last week. I figured you were busy on the DELTA!!! so you might not have had time, and besides that, I knew my next post would be my 50th (woot woot!), and I could either make an awesome one and get it over with or I could celebrate by taking the day off. Having free time on a Sunday was really, really nice, so I think I made the right decision.
     But anyway! I had some cool thoughts last week anyway, sitting in Church, which is where I normally come up with your letters. I started thinking about Batman, Neal A. Maxwell, and the Hokey Pokey. Yes, they are related.
     Church leaders often talk about how the Church and the world used to be so similar, holding the same values and fostering the same goals. But as time progresses, the world moves ever farther away from Gospel teachings. Unfortunately, the same can also be said about Church members. I believe it was President Hinckley who commented that members of the Church are just a few steps behind the world—not as bad as the world is now, but what the world is now is where members will be in just a few short years. That's beyond accurate, but it's something that nobody likes to admit. They call it "progress," but they forget that God's doctrines will always be the same, and even when He makes adjustments, they're designed to make us more faithful, not less. While not politically correct, God's teachings about gender identity, for instance, are basic, eternal truths, listed in The Family: A Proclamation to the World and taught for over a century before that. Yet Konrie and I know a returned missionary who thinks that God sends people to earth with the wrong gender, which goes completely against sound doctrine.

     Many members of the Church justify ignoring the prophets because "it was a suggestion, not a commandment," or "the prophet is imperfect, so I don't have to do exactly what he says," or my favorite, "I prayed and decided that commandment didn't apply to me." First of all, I'd take the suggestion of a prophet over the wisdom of the world any day. Second, even prophets are imperfect mortals, but "What God hath cleansed, that call not thou common" (Acts 10:15). God knew these men were imperfect when He called them, but they're still His mouthpieces. And according to President Benson's Fourteen Fundamentals in Following the Prophet, a prophet can speak on anything at anytime; he's the prophet for the entire world, not just the Church. And thirdly, that's not how it works! When the Lord commands, do it. People would do well to spend less time making themselves exceptions and more time accepting the will of the Lord. I have a deep testimony that He is much smarter than I am.
     So why does this happen? I know there are many reasons and everyone is a little different, but it usually boils down to the same problem: people want to be in the world and as much of the world as they can get away with. And the more they push, the stretchier the t-shirt gets. Some may call sticking to principle old-fashioned, but God is pretty old-fashioned, and He seems to be doing okay.
     So what does this have to do with Batman, Neal A. Maxwell, and the Hokey Pokey?
     Elder Neal A. Maxwell, one of my favorite human beings, once said that we need to "establish our residence in Zion and give up the summer cottage in Babylon." We can't play for God's team and the devil's, even if it's just for a quarter. If we want to be on the Lord's side, we have to be there completely. God accepts and saves imperfect people, but He will not receive those who only halfheartedly approach Him. There's a difference between being imperfect and not caring about it. If you treat the world like an on and off relationship, putting your right foot in then taking your right foot out, you'll find yourself turned all around without direction. You can't rise up while the world holds you down.

     That brings us to Batman. In The Dark Knight Rises, Bruce Wayne finds himself at the bottom of this giant prison hole that he is fully allowed to escape from if he's physically able. He tries several times to climb out, but he wears a safety rope just in case. At the same crucial jumping point, he misses. Every time. The rope breaks his fall (and his back), but he recovers and tries again. And again. And again. Finally, he realizes that while the rope grants him a sense of security, it's really just holding him back, stifling his jump. He climbs again, this time without the rope, and SPOILER SPOILER SPOILER this time he makes it. He climbs out of the prison and somehow makes it back to Gotham (seriously though, how on earth did he make it back to Gotham?).

     You can't convince the world to come back to the Gospel. It's a solid mass drifting into space, and I'm sorry, George Bailey, but you can't lasso the moon! Not this time. You can save the people on it, but not by joining them. In the beautiful painting of Christ on the rock, He reaches out His hand to the child. He doesn't crawl into the water and push up. He lifts. He reaches. He invites.
     As a missionary, your purpose was to "invite others to come unto Christ." That means you need to be standing next to Him—with both feet, not one foot in and one foot out. Like Batman's rope, the world may give a false sense of social security, but only Christ saves.

     Take a moment to appreciate Chris Evans's biceps.

     .......

     Take your time...

     .......

     It's okay.
     As Captain America, he tries to stop this helicopter from taking off, which almost kills him, but he does it. And he does it without leaving the ground. He didn't try to jump into the helicopter and convince Bucky to land. He stayed on a solid foundation and refused to budge, physically and morally. As the movie teaches, "When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth and tell the whole world, 'No, YOU move.'"
     This life isn't about making the rounds and checking off a bucket list. It's about proving to God that we 1) will do whatever it takes to follow Him and 2) absolutely need His help to do it. So when the world stifles your jump, builds you a summer cottage, or tries to turn you all around, remember that you can only serve one master, and the only true Master is Jesus Christ.

"From time to time, I hear people speculate on the question, 'When does the prophet speak as a prophet, and when does he speak otherwise?' This query seems curious to me, as if one were presumptuous enough to sit in judgment on a prophet. In my close associations with President Kimball, spanning two decades and the spectrum from suffering to sublimity, I have never asked that question. The only question I have asked has been, 'How can I be more like him?'"

President Russell M. Nelson, President of the Quorum of the Twelve Apostles (2015 - present)






Konrie's Korner:
I used to think that I was sooo extremely obedient, but with help I have come to recognize that I have lots of room to improve. I, too, would fall into the trap thinking some of the older revelations received by prophets or apostles wouldn't apply to me. Revelations such as how mothers are needed in the home to raise their families and whenever possible should not work. I have always wanted to be a mother. We have been so blessed to have a mother that stayed home to take care of us throughout our lives. But as I grew up, I began to feel like I needed to put my Physics major to good use and get a well-paid engineering job. I still wanted to be a mother, but I let the world tell me that I needed to be an intellectual woman first. Motherhood is a divine calling. How did I forget how much it meant to me as a kid to have my mom be a home-maker? Why did I trick myself into thinking it wouldn't matter either way? It DOES matter; it makes a huge difference. I have since made motherhood the highest priority and working an absolute last resort (beneath living off of pure rice). No matter how badly I want to do something, I have realized that I would rather follow the Lord's command first. I am so grateful for prophets that help us to see with an eternal perspective and help us know how to find true happiness.

Yes, No, and How Much?

Dear Little Sister,
How are you?

     That's a pretty simple question, but I want you to think about it. Once you've come up with your answer, I want you to think about why. How do you know if you're doing well or doing poorly? How can you tell if it's a great day or a bad day? Typically, our perception of our current situation is all about comparing the here and now to something else, either how we've been in the past or where we hope to be in the future. If you were doing poorly yesterday and you're better now than you were then, then you might say you're fine. If you were good and now you're better, you may be great. If you were great and now you're worse, you may be okay. It all depends on where you are relative to where you want to be.
     We know from Lehi's teachings in 2 Nephi chapter 2 that this kind of comparison, or "opposition," is not bad. In fact, it's necessary. There would be no hot without cold, tall without short, smart without not so smart, front without back, and, ultimately, good without evil. Comparison is how we identify what's in front of us.

     If you've ever shopped for bananas, you know why this is so important. They have to be just the right amount of yellow if you want to eat them right away, with just enough green if you want them to last awhile. But how do you know how much "just enough" is? By comparison. The slightly green ones have to be greener than the yellow ones and yellower than the green ones. And then you compare them to past experience and what your mom told you about them, remembering if the last ones were too green and how those looked so you don't make the same mistake twice.
     Comparisons rule our everyday lives. Most have become so ingrained that we don't think about them, but throughout the day, we're hungry because there's more room in our stomachs than when we were full, we're tired because we have less energy than just a few minutes ago, and we have to use that information to decide, how hungry do you have to be before you decide to eat? How tired are you before you decide, "Now's the time to go to bed"? Comparison. It's all comparison.
     Because of all that habit, it's no wonder we translate the need for comparisons into less mundane, more meaningful areas of our lives. In the gospel, we're taught the difference between right and wrong, virtue and vice, good and evil. But where do they switch? We always want to know where the line is, how close we can get or how far away we need to keep ourselves. We're always concerned about choosing the harder right, picking the lesser of two evils, identifying what's good, what's better, and what's best. That can be helpful in some ways, but it can ruin us spiritually if we become too focused on it in others.

     The first example of where not to compare is in decisions between good and evil. Once we know that something is on the right, we can sort between good, better, and best, but let's just focus on whether something is right or wrong. As children and teenagers, don't we all ask, "Exactly how bad is it?" We want to know which sin is bigger, stealing something or hitting someone, swearing or saying mean things, lying or spilling someone else's secret? Believe it or not, it doesn't matter. To God, it doesn't make much difference which sins we commit--only that once we sin, we've become unclean. All we need to know is, "Is it good or bad? Does it bring me closer to or farther away from God?" It doesn't matter how much. Any and all sin will lead you away from our Heavenly Father. A lot of people ask, as if to taunt God, "Will [insert sin] really keep me from the Celestial Kingdom?" Maybe not, but your attitude certainly will. Such people have become so prideful that they truly believe they're smarter than God, more in tune with the Spirit than the prophets. I don't know how bad every sin is, and that's not for me to decide. But once I call good evil and evil good, imagining I know better than my Maker, I'm in trouble. As my best friend once told me, "I've decided that in all matters, I'm going to keep myself as far from the line as possible. Because if I'm nowhere near the line, there's no way I can cross it."
     The next example is in comparing ourselves to others. This can very easily happen when we think about the last point: how bad are their sin in contrast with mine? Again, if that's our attitude, we're in trouble. It certainly is mine more often than naught, and that's one of my many battles. We justify sin because "at least we're not as bad as so and so," and we somehow see ourselves as doing so much better than so many other people. It's not a competition. The War in Heaven was fought over agency, over whether we would follow God or Satan. So why is the War on Earth all about beating each other, so much so that we've forgotten who the real enemy is? We're fighting a war against sin, and the only comparison that will help us is whether we're stronger now than we were yesterday. Are we moving forward? That's the right direction, no matter the speed. We may go faster or slower than we have at other times, but as long as we're moving in the right direction, we'll be fine.

     In that same vein, we too often determine whether or not somebody's needs comfort by comparing their suffering with ours. "Do they need it as badly as I do? Because if they don't, I'll save my comfort for myself." That's not the way of the Lord. When Christ was on the cross, He comforted the thieves, actual criminals who had not suffered nearly as bad as He had. Christ also prayed for the soldiers who crucified Him, that their suffering might also be less than His. He finally reached out to His beloved apostle, making sure that His mother would be taken care of after His death. We see as natural men and women, recognizing that these people suffered little compared to the Savior, but Christ never considered that His suffering might disqualify Him from feeling empathy for others. So instead of wondering whose suffering is worse, why don't we ask, "Are they suffering?" and "How can I help?" Instead of comparing our sins, why don't we say, "Who among us is imperfect and in need of the Savior's redeeming grace?" We'll soon find--through our comparison--that we're a lot more similar to our brothers and sisters in that regard than we may have thought.
     Finally, I realized recently another way in which I often compare is with my strengths to those of others. Whenever people ask which of our Christlike attributes are strongest, or which ones others likely notice in us, I immediately think of obedience and knowledge. But I'm afraid to speak up, because I don't want people to think I look down on them or that I consider myself superior. I thought my desire not to hurt their feelings was motivated by humility, but it occurred to me that such thoughts are actually manifestations of pride. The reason I felt that others might feel bad for not having the same strengths is because somewhere deep down, I'd assumed that my strengths were the strengthiest of all strengths. I'd assumed that while all attributes of Christ are important, the best ones to develop are the ones that I've most nurtured.
     Which Christlike attribute is best? Which is most important? If I wanted to defend myself, I would point out that obedience is the first law of Heaven and that man cannot be saved in ignorance. But what about, "If ye have not charity, ye are nothing"? What about, "Pride is the great stumbling block to Zion" and "But without faith it is impossible to please Him"? Does that mean that charity, humility, and faith are the best attributes? In short, yes. And yes to obedience and knowledge. And yes to virtue, to hope, and to patience. Yes to everything that leads you closer to God, that makes you more like the Savior.
     The attribute of Christ most worth your time is whichever one is keeping you furthest from Him.
     We're commanded to judge, but not to judge unrighteous judgement. Judge between choices that are good and evil, influences that build you up or tear you down, bananas that are green or yellow. But don't compare yourself to people, and don't convince yourself that God loves them any less than He loves you, no matter how much more consistently righteous your choices are. Pride is the vice that encourages that kind of comparison.
     At the same time, please don't think, "Well, if we're all sinners anyway and all sin leads us away from God, then why not commit the bigger ones?" Don't confuse God's trust in you for His love. His love will always be there, but your goodness and your strength will show Him that He can rely on you to be an instrument in His hands, to comfort those that are suffering and to reach out to those who are falling behind.
     I don't know how many drops of blood were shed for me in Gethsemane, and maybe it will take less Atonement to heal my heart than it will for others, but that's none of my concern. I'm trying really hard not to think about that. Instead, I'm trying to remember that until I've taken care of my own sins, I can't judge anyone else for theirs. I have plenty of battles ahead of me without being distracted by who's winning an imaginary race.

"At its core, pride is a sin of comparison, for though it usually begins with 'Look how wonderful I am and what great things I have done,' it always seems to end with 'Therefore, I am better than you.'"

~ President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Second Counselor in the First Presidency of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (2008 - )





Konrie's Korner:

Isn't my husband wonderful?! I love so many of the points he made this week! Comparing myself to others is something I have struggled with for a long time. Honestly, even comparing myself to myself can sometimes be destructive. Lately, I have developed a new method of just giving it my all each moment and striving to be sensitive to the Spirit as close to always as I can that day. That method has helped me to make sure I am drawing nearer to our Heavenly Father, without being overly hard on myself for days or moments when I am too weak to do much more than have good intentions of heart. It is hard to do evil when your heart is full of good.

The Ship of Theseus Paradox

Dear Little Sister,
I'm so sorry I didn't write you last week, but I assumed we would see each other, so I thought I shouldn't, and yeah, that didn't turn out the right way. Oops. And I'm sorry again that I didn't ask you about a specific prompt or issue today, but that one has a better explanation, I hope.
     I decided that there's something you should hear that you would probably never think to ask for. It's a common..."issue" isn't the right word, "concern" maybe? "Thought exercise" is close, but it's more existential than that.... It's a common questiony, self-pondering thing that I think almost all people experience in their lives, especially after such a life-altering experience like serving a mission. It's something both Konrie and I have discussed multiple times, and recently, I discovered a classic philosophical paradox that actually addresses it! The other reason I'm doing this is because I wanted to explain it to a friend of mine yesterday, but we ran out of time. So here's to you too, Megan! It's called the Ship of Theseus Paradox.

     It goes like this: once upon a time, there was a ship. When it was first built, it was beautiful and functional and everything a ship should be. But as time went on, the ship got older and started to decay. Not wanting to lose such a jewel of craftsmanship (see what I did there?), a project was undertaken to restore the vessel to its original glory, replacing all of the boards, oars, the helm, the mast, the rudder, etc. with newer, sturdier pieces. After all of these changes, however, they had to pose a question: is it still fundamentally the same ship? Is it still the Ship of Theseus, or do the new parts make it a new ship altogether? There are more questions like this: if an ax has had its head and handle each replaced seven times, is it still the same ax? If a car get its engine, rims, paint job, seats, transmission, and muffler redone, is it still the same car? There are obviously two main sides here, yes and no, but no matter what you initially think, it's actually pretty complex and a lot more complicated than you may first realize. I'm not gonna pretend to know more about philosophy than I actually do, so my summary is fairly condensed, but I think it's fascinating if you want to dig deeper and read more.
     The Ship of Theseus Paradox was hypothesized by ancient philosophers like Plato and later featured in Plutarch's story, "Life of Theseus," almost two millennia ago. Thomas Hobbes, one of the great minds that influenced the founding fathers, added a new layer to the puzzle, asking if the original parts of the ship (the ones that had been replaced) were gathered up and used to make a new ship, which of the two would be the original Ship of Theseus? The old one that uses new parts, or the new one that uses the old parts? Anything that spins your head around this much is my kind of conversation.

     There are tons of references to this in pop culture, including The Wizard of Oz, Futurama, and even Wall-E. My favorite YouTubers, the Super Carlin Brothers, actually have a video about this theory talking about whether Wall-E is still the same robot after replacing his own parts so many times. It's how I found out about the theory and it's super easy to follow. Check it out! One Greek philosopher tried to settle the debate once and for all with the example of a river, whose waters continuously flow without returning but is still always the same river. But even Pocahontas disagrees with that one, singing that "you never step in the same river twice." Gets your brain going, doesn't it? The fundamental question is: what makes something that thing? The individual parts, or some central, unifying identity?
     Anyway, there is a point to this, and it has to do with who you are and why the natural man in you may find it so hard to change.
     I think that somewhere deep within us, the natural man (or just Satan) is trying to tell us that if we change who we are to become more like God, we won't be the same person anymore. We'll be too different, we'll lose what makes us unique, and we'll no longer have any identity. You and I know that this isn't true, that God only wants us to make better versions of ourselves and if anything return to the glorified quality of being we were before this life, but Satan does a convincing job.

     Just before you got home, Konrie and I warned you that it might be difficult to keep the progress you'd won because so many people would expect you to be exactly the same as you were when you left. You don't have to answer me, but think about it for a second. Have you felt that yet? Have you felt yourself slipping back into Old Torra because that's what people expect or maybe even demand of you? That was certainly a challenge for Konrie, and I think we all feel it to a certain degree. My version of that problem was that no matter how much I knew I had improved on the mission, I was disappointed to realize that I hadn't changed as much as I had thought. My bad habits, insecurities, and annoying quirks still shone across my face like a scrolling billboard. When you truly lose yourself on the mission, your own identity is something you don't even realize you're not thinking about anymore, so when you come back, you actually have to decide: do I want to be the old me, or can I make a new me? And--here's the paradox--if I do make a new me, will I still be me? You may feel like you, but you may be afraid that people won't recognize or accept you for you, so I think that many returned missionaries (if not most) decide that no, they don't want a "new me." So they fall back into old habits and lose some of the progress they fought so hard to make.

     The only you I've really had a chance to talk to is the you you are right now, so I don't know if that's the old or new you. But if you don't mind me saying, there have been times when you've seemed a little different than you did in our emails during your last few months in Argentina. First impressions can be inaccurate, so I'm not saying you're bad or that you've lost your ground, but Konrie and I wanted to remind you that 1. we know how hard it is to struggle between who you want to be and who everybody thinks you are and that 2. you don't have to be ashamed to let the new you shine if there's more that you've stashed away. We know personally how hard it is to change--both of us are still working on the same weaknesses we admitted to each other on our first date, and we probably will be for a long time, but don't be embarrassed to improve. Every day should yield a new you, one slightly better on average and moving in the right direction.
     If you think about it, "conversion" is also sometimes called a "change of heart," and "repentance" has a Greek root meaning "change of mind." So in order to come unto Christ and be perfected in Him, we need to literally change out two of the most vital parts of our bodies: our hearts and our minds. This is to put off the natural man and in a sense reprogram ourselves so that we're more compatible with our Father in Heaven.
     Does that make you a fundamentally different person? Well, you'll have to decide that yourself, and you'll have to decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing.
     Does it make you a fundamentally better person? Absolutely.

I couldn't decide on just one quote, so here are two:

"No man can sincerely resolve to apply in his daily life the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth without sensing a change in his own nature. The phrase 'born again' has a deeper significance than many people attach to it. This changed feeling may be indescribable, but it is real."

- David O. McKay, President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (1951 - 1970)

"The Lord works from the inside out. The world works from the outside in. The world would take people out of the slums. Christ takes the slums out of people, and then they take themselves out of the slums. The world would mold men by changing their environment. Christ changes men, who then change their environment. The world would shape human behavior, but Christ can change human nature."

- Ezra Taft Benson, President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (1985 - 1994)








Konrie's Korner:

Konrie was really tired and took a nap, and I felt bad waking her up for her part. She said she fully supports what I said and loves you. :) Sorry!


P.S. That drawing of the girl in the rain is called Sunny-Side Up by my brother, Tyler Angel. Check out more of his work here!

I Would If I Could, But I Shouldn't, So...

Dear Little Sister,

Happy Birthday!!! Tomorrow's a big day for you! One of my brothers pointed out once that a birthday is a celebration of your decision to follow Heavenly Father's plan and come to Earth. So congratulations! I don't remember anything about that period of time, obviously, but it's called a war for a reason--it couldn't have been an easy decision. And with this particular birthday, you're really moving along into adulthood. 21 is apparently a super important age for a human person. You still can't rent a car, so you're not completely free to do whatever you want, but 21 is still a landmark. Drinks are on you, right?
     When I was younger, I looked at ages for what I would be allowed to do once I got there: 12) young men/young women, get the Priesthood, etc. 13) teenager, which means you're cool now (except to other teenagers). 14) advance in Priesthood, high school, dances, seminary. And so on. Just before turning 17, I considered my options: I could get a tattoo, go see an R-rated movie by myself, or give blood...
     So I gave blood for my 17th birthday.
     The decision wasn't difficult for me, but it still taught me very markedly that just because you can do something doesn't mean you should. President Monson always says that decisions determine destiny, and as with the story of Alice and the Cheshire Cat, if we don't know where we want to end up, our decisions matter very little. But we know where we're headed, so our daily decisions can make a vital impact on our eternal lives. For instance, your choice to follow God's plan and come to Earth changed everything for you. If I had gotten a tattoo on my 17th birthday, I would've regretted it. And starting tomorrow, you can go out for a drink or a smoke. But should you?
     Eighteen months in Argentina should've at least taught you the answer to that one. ;)
     So what can and should you do now that you're a little bit more of an adult? Well, since I don't see you as the type to get a concealed carry permit, I don't think there's a very long age-specific list for this one. So you do what you do with every new year, every new step of mortality: you get better. You make each day and each year a milestone in your journey to becoming more like your Heavenly Father. Your age doesn't determine how far you should be on that journey, but it can be a useful way to measure your progress one year at a time. People will say, "Act your age," but they often mean, "Act my age." Don't worry about what other people expect you to be. You're you, and only you have the right to judge where you are with respect to where you should be. I'm busy enough figuring out my own standing before the Lord, and anyone taking the time to criticize yours is too satisfied with their own.

     One word: lacrosse. Did I get your attention? I love lacrosse. Not like you do, but still. I play hockey, and I've only messed around in lacrosse with a couple of friends a few times, but it's fun. I haven't played it much, but I have great respect for those who do--especially goalies like you. Yikes!--and for the sport in general. Basically I just love any sport where you can hit people.
     Anyway, one thing that I find really intriguing about lacrosse is its unique rule about midfield. Three defenders can't cross it on the attack (not counting the goalie), and three attackers can't cross it on the defense. I imagine that it's so nerve-wracking to watch your team struggle on either offense or defense, not knowing whether or not they'll succeed and knowing that there's nothing you can do to help. Watching some of my best friends play in high school, I realized how important it is to accept that there are some things you can control, and there are some you just have to react to. Try as you might to avoid these decisions altogether, they're bound to come up eventually, and you'll just have to deal with them when they do.
     Never is this more applicable than when entering adulthood (or maybe something later, but I haven't gotten far enough to know). I'm sure you saw that many times on the mission, unable to control the decisions of people you taught, the weather, your companion, meals with members, or a million other things. Up at school, you'll have classes and homework and roommates and that annoying kid in class who asks weird questions, and if you're anything like me, you'll lose your mind trying to hold on to all of it at once. It's easy to say now that it won't be a problem, but trust me. Just as part of the human condition, the more everything careens out of our control, the more desperately we try to control it. And since I'm battling your inner human condition, this may not be easy to hear, but it's important: don't.

     I hope I'm not making this sound like an easy transition that you should really have figured out by now. It's not. It's tough. It's a process that everyone deals with, and that means that I struggle with it too. But I've learned that "anxiously engaged" and "anxiety with rage" are not the same thing. There has to be a balance, and while some need to hold on a little tighter to the rope, I need to learn how to let go. Those with too loose of a hold on life are generally those without direction, the ones who, like Alice, don't really care where they end up. But I know you're not like that. You care about where you're going and how you get there, and it's hard to care that much and not hold on too tight.
     Don't tire out your fingers with that tight of a grip. Little by little, learn to hand the reigns over to God. One of our biggest tests on Earth isn't to see how much we can make happen; it's about seeing how much can happen to us and how we'll react to it. A man I interviewed once told me, "Take everything that happens to you--all the good, all the bad, everything you can't control. That's the gift of life. And our gift to God and to ourselves is how we deal with that."
     You're at a big milestone in your life. Not because you're 21, not because you can (yet shouldn't) buy alcohol, not even because you're an adult. Today is a big day because it's today, and every day is another test. Every day is another chance to prove to God that no matter what happens, you'll still find a way back to Him. You can't control everything, and you shouldn't try. Learning to do so is not the purpose of life. Heavenly Father just wants you home, and that's a journey you decided to start a long time ago. Tomorrow you'll celebrate that decision for the 21st time. So far so good. Just keep taking it one step at a time.


"Experienced pilots understand that they can’t always control the things that happen around them. They can’t just turn off the turbulence. They can’t make the rain or snow vanish. They can’t cause the wind to stop blowing or change its direction.

But they also understand that it’s a mistake to fear turbulence or strong winds—and especially to be paralyzed by them. The way to land safely when conditions are less than ideal is to stay on the correct track...as perfectly as possible."

- President Dieter F. Uchtdorf, Second Counselor in the First Presidency (2008 - present)




Konrie's Korner

HaPpY (almost) BiRtHdAy !!! I love you so much, little sister! I cannot believe how old you are!!! I mean you would think I would get used to you always being 2 years younger, but nope, I am still surprised to see how you and all of our siblings keep growing older.

If you would look at yourself through my eyes, you would see someone:

• confident and determined--I mean, you have to be to like exercising as much as you do ;)
• able to fit in and make friends with anyone
• fearless and willing to try new things
• so talented--I mean, you were a singer in a band, you play piano (you stuck with the lessons and actually practiced), you are super sporty... I could go on and on.

I am so proud of who you have become and know that you will do great things.

Choosing the Harder Right

Dear Little Sister,

One of my favorite shows growing up was Boy Meets World. Konrie can't remember if you ever watched that show. Did you? Anyway, one of the moments that's stuck with me most is when Eric, the older brother, tells Cory, "Little bro, life's tough. Get a helmet" and then palms his forehead. Classic.
     It's true, though. Life is tough, and it'll beat you up. There's a great moment from Rocky Balboa (2006) about that, but that's not the point of this post. You know firsthand that it's not always easy to go through life at all, let alone while doing the right things.
     I learned a long time ago that choosing the right is one of the easiest ways to tick people off. There will always be somebody unhappy with your decisions, and I feel like that's especially true when they're good yet inconvenient. The mission is just one correct, unpopular choice after another. I can't remember who first told me, "Everybody loves a chueco" (disobedient missionary for you folks out there), but it's so true. Unfortunately, many people want you to fail, both because it makes them look better and because it's simply more fun. Of course, Alma taught that "wickedness never was happiness," and Samuel the Lamanite said that "[seeking] for happiness in doing iniquity...is contrary to the nature of that righteousness which is in our great and Eternal Head," but Alma was rejected more than once, and Samuel's folks...let's just say they missed something. Choosing the right is rarely popular or easy.
     One way or another, I inadvertently found ways to make either my companions or Church members upset with me, but the truth was that I totally was right there with them--it would've been so much easier and (for the moment) more pleasant to stay at a house longer than allowed rather than face the heat of the day. I would've loved to have said "yes" to rides from women who were by themselves rather than have to walk. Entering houses in the same circumstances, getting out of bed, leaving for the area on time, having to tell my mission president after a series of probing questions that my companion was being disobedient enough that President decided to transfer him, working while either one of us was sick, etc. The list could go on forever. It would've been so much easier to be lazy and self-serving, even enabling for my companions. But I knew that it wasn't my work; it was the Lord's, so I tried to do it His way.
     Remember when I told you about Elder Archuleta's advice? "If you can do it on the mission, you can do it off the mission." It's hard to stand up to peer pressure when your peers are missionaries and Church leaders. I had a bishop pull me aside and tell me to stop being so square, that the mission president didn't make my decisions for me and that I was offending members by being too obedient. I told him as clearly as I could that I served God, not him, and my loyalty was to the Lord and His work. Not popular, and not easy, but I'm proud of that decision. So if I did it on the mission, I should be able to do it off the mission, right?
     Well, now you're home now, so you know that it's not as easy as you may have thought. It felt like Sister Missionaries could get away with being more righteous and angelic than Elders, but you weren't immune to criticism, and I'm sure you went through some crap for your standards. Every time you stood for right is a victory. And now it's time to defend the title. You may find it harder to do that now than you did on the mission, which may be surprising but is also a good sign--that means you're moving forward. The future is always darker than the past in mortality, but with every step you take, you're getting stronger and more apt to face the darkness. In the words of Albus Dumbledore (movie version), "Dark and difficult times lie ahead. Soon we must all face the choice between what is right and what is easy." Which brings us to your wonderful question:
     "How do I choose the harder right instead of the easier wrong?"
     The question itself tells me a great deal about where your heart is, and you're in good shape. The question is phrased after a quote from President Thomas S. Monson, the living prophet, and your desire is to better apply his counsel. That's pretty good right there, and it tells me that you want to improve, that you're doing this for the right reasons. So before we get into anything else, well done.
     Next, don't feel bad for asking. Just because you're an RM doesn't make you invincible, and it doesn't mean you've learned everything. I've learned a lot since I got back, and one of the biggest lessons is that sometimes choosing the easier wrong seems like a much more enjoyable option.
     When Konrie and I were engaged, we felt firsthand the full brunt of Satan's temptations to break the Law of Chastity. It was not easy, and we came close to falling many times. We were both upstanding youth and strong missionaries, but even we were holding on by barely a thread at times in our obedience during that critical period. What kept us going was generally the temple, not just the eventual marriage date but also knowing that our weekly visit was approaching (self-accountability is one of the blessings of regular temple attendance, by the way). But even the temple wasn't always enough to curb our passions in the moment. Thinking of the humiliation of telling our friends and families that we were no longer worthy to enter the temple was a strong motivator, but we knew that fear of punishment is never the right reason to obey God's commandments.

     My mission president and his wife just got back this week, so at their homecoming today, Konrie and I asked a couple of friends about their thoughts on the subject. One of my old companions reminded me of something that President Warne would always teach us is that there are three reasons we are obedient, three levels: 1. Because it's a commandment, 2. Because we want blessings, and 3. Because we love God. Obeying the Law of Chastity was almost always one of the first two, but it was practically never the third. Obedience to the Lord should come from a place of love and only love, especially since He stated that obedience was the very manifestation of love to Him. Therefore, if we don't mean it when we do it, we're sending Him the wrong message. We may have obeyed for the right reasons on the mission, but how about now? My companion added, "Did you love Him for a little bit and then jump back to man?" He finished by saying, "The goal is to overcome, not succumb."
     Another mission friend suggested reminding you that obedience is a sacrifice, giving up something you want for something better, and doing it for the One you love. It's like that Hank Smith talk about breaking up with the world, which you should totally look up if you don't know it: "And verily I say unto thee that thou shalt lay aside the things of this world, and seek for the things of a better" (D&C 25:10). Mortality is called a test for a reason. It will never be easy--it will just keep testing you.
     I didn't talk to him about this today, but my brother's brother-in-law once said, "Living for God, it's not that it gets easier. It's that you get to use your victories as your foundation." That's so true. Righteousness leads to more righteousness, just as sin leads to more sin. A harder road--a harder right--is just a sign that you're moving in the right direction. Even Christ didn't want to suffer, and when He accepted it, He was strengthened by an angel. You, too, will have Heaven's help as you strive to choose the harder right.
     As an imperfect man, I have no moral authority to tell you exactly what to do and how to do it, but I can testify that I know that while God will always let you choose, He certainly will lend a hand when He sees that your desire is to choose the right. And when all else fails, when no blessing is encouraging enough and no commandment carries enough weight on its own, a deep, abiding love for the Savior is the best solution to choosing to follow Him over anyone else.

"May we maintain the courage to defy the consensus. May we ever choose the harder right instead of the easier wrong. As we contemplate the decisions we make in our lives each day—whether to make this choice or that choice—if we choose Christ, we will have made the correct choice."

- President Thomas S. Monson, President of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (2008 - present)









Konrie's Korner:

Little sister, I love you! I am so proud of you for who you have become and who you are striving to become. I have always looked up to you (literally for the last few years) and even before that. I have always thought of you as incredibly diligent and determined (just like some of our other sisters--gosh they are amazing). I was always so impressed with you when you decided you wanted to be healthier and exercise. You made a goal and you went for it. Little sister, you are amazing! I believe in you! Richie believes in you! All the members of our family believe in you! Heavenly Father believes in you!

I testify that love is one of the most powerful motivators. I remember halfway through my mission, I was in a rough spot (again). I absolutely loved my companion at the time and thought she was just the most amazing missionary ever. I felt like she could do everything so much better than I could, so why should I try? What did I have to offer that was special? I would have destroyed my self-esteem completely and probably asked to leave the mission had it not been for her. She helped me out of it. You know what she did? She loved me. She loved me and she frequently told me why. She valued me as a person, and as a result, I wanted to be the person she seemed to see me as. She changed my mission and my life and I will always be grateful to her for it.

The same thing can happen with our Heavenly Father when we pray to see and better understand the love He has for us. We should walk with confidence, knowing God is proud of our little triumphs--the time when we resisted the urge to lick the frosting off a cake Mom made for a special occasion, the time we smiled and waved at a person that looked sad, or even when we weren't late for something. :) He loves us and just wants us to be happy and strive to be better step-by-step. So keep going, and remember you are doing better than you think you are so just keep going. I know you will choose the right.

To Know God

Dear Little Sister,
You gave us a prompt! I was so so SO happy when Konrie told me that you asked for something specifically. It makes my job easier, but it also makes me feel like I'm helping you more, which is the whole point. I can ramble for days, as you know, but this blog is meant to answer any of your questions and give you encouragement as you face this new chapter of your life. So thanks for asking us to help you!
     Your question was fantastic--something that's really made me think today--and God was so good throughout church today, giving me one little piece at a time of what He wanted me to say (at least that's  how it felt). For the folks at home, you wanted to know more ways to see Christ in your life every day and come closer to Him besides prayer and scripture study. What a great question. That question and honestly seeking the answer (which may change slightly depending on your circumstances) will keep a fire alive and burning in your heart throughout your life; it will keep you active in the Church, and it will keep you and your family striving down the road toward Heaven. That's the attitude you need to have, and I'm so pleased that you already have it.
     Plus, I know you're smart. I know it's something you've thought about and probably come up with answers for already. And I can see the proper foundation of your testimony in doing the littler things, like reading the scriptures and praying. That's a good place to start, and rather than branch out like you asked, I've actually felt that I need to dig deeper today.
     Are you familiar with the concept of B.A.M., Basic Answers for Mormons? I remember my friend, Lindsay, calling them that all the time, and I've heard different versions of it everywhere I've lived, like "Primary Answers," so I think it's fairly ubiquitous or universal. Anyway, if we're on the same page, you're now thinking of prayer, reading the scriptures, going to church, keeping the commandments, going to the temple, service, etc. You get a few more answers as you get older, but even as a young child, those are the answers we know by heart and they never really go away. As adults, they're the first things listed as well. Why? Because they work. They're just as true for adults as they are for children, and we never stop needing to improve them and give ourselves more time and focus for them. How can you be happier? B.A.M.! How can you feel the Spirit more? B.A.M.! How can you strengthen your testimony? B.A.M.! And the list never ends. So how can you feel closer to Christ and think of Him more frequently? Well...let's talk about that.
     I remember one of my many bishops, Bishop Cook, telling me when I was about thirteen that when he talked to people who were struggling or on the brink of inactivity in the gospel, he always asked them the same first question: are you reading your scriptures and praying daily? When someone's testimony and resolve were shaking, when they couldn't handle any more, he said, the answer was "no" 90-95% percent of the time. I've confirmed this with other bishops and even my mission president, curious to see if the principle holds up, and it does. 90-95% of the people who fall away or seriously fall down give up prayer and scripture study.

     I don't know what the exact numbers are because they vary depending on where you look, but I've heard a lot of reports (and I'm sure you have too) that around 25% of returned missionaries no longer participate in the Church. Another study approximates that roughly 80% of Church members will go inactive at some point in their lives. Less than half of the men or boys baptized into the Church ever receive the Melchizedek Priesthood worldwide. Those numbers are heartbreaking, yet I can't help but think of Bishop Cook's lesson every time I hear them. As my mission president, President Warne, often said, "You never find a less-active member who still reads the Book of Mormon every day and pays their tithing." In order to get lost in forbidden paths, the people in Lehi's dream first had to let go of and forget about the rod, which is the word of God.
     Like I said, I want to dig deeper, so this isn't just about whether or not you read and pray. This is about how and why. What makes you turn to God?
     I had a lot of amazing seminary teachers, and one of them--a substitute, Sister Packard--said something so profound that I've never forgotten. We were reading John 17:3, "And this is life eternal, that they might know thee the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom thou hast sent." She then commented, "To know God is to be like God." Think about that for a second. To know God is to be like God. God's work and glory is to bring to pass our eternal life, and life eternal is to know God, and to know God is to be like God. So God's work and glory is to help us become more like Him. That's His purpose. So how do we do that?
     One of my favorite scriptures is in Mosiah 5, and it reads, "For how knoweth a man the master whom he has not served, and who is a stranger unto him, and is far from the thoughts and intents of his heart?" How do we know God if we don't serve Him or think about Him often? How can we be like God if we don't serve Him or think about Him often? I know you know that it's impossible, and that's why you knew enough to ask the question in the first place--you know it's vital to draw nearer unto God. So how do we do that?

     Another favorite scripture is in 3 Nephi 9, when the land has gone dark after Christ's crucifixion and the people are mourning. In their despair, they hear the voice of the Lord telling them, "If ye will come unto me ye shall have eternal life. Behold, mine arm of mercy is extended towards you, and whosoever will come, him will I receive." To have eternal life, which is to know God, which is to be like God, we have to come unto Him, or come unto Christ. But His arm of mercy is extended, which means that He's waiting for us. I don't know why, but I always picture the Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban video game, where a book of spells would often be on a pedestal in the middle of a chasm, and you had to find a way to get to it. Christ is always there, always waiting for us, and it's up to us to go to Him.
     This still isn't digging, really, and I'm sorry to ramble. Here we go now: in my first weeks of the mission, I had a companion who wasn't too eager to work at that time. He wasn't obedient, he didn't seem to like me, and I had a very hard time with him. I was afraid to talk to him, and I could tell you more stories of why later. We eventually became friends, but during my training, we did almost nothing. But anyway, in the beginning, I was shocked that a missionary could be that...bleh. I was still stuck in the naive "all missionaries are amazing" mindset, and since we were the only Elders in this city, I just thought, "What in the world is wrong with him? How could this be happening? President Warne needs to know." Over the course of a week, I wrote down everything that my companion was doing wrong, all of the rules he was breaking, all of the ways he was mistreating me, on the last page of my planner. I wrote in tiny print, and I filled the page. I got to the ciber on Monday ready to type fire, but the Spirit stopped me.
     "Why are you doing this?" he asked.
     "Because this can't be happening. President needs to know."
     "What exactly are you hoping he will do?"
     I thought about it, but I couldn't come up with an answer. The Spirit was kind enough to offer suggestions. "Do you want him to go home?" No, that would crush him. "Do you want him to get transferred away?" No, I don't know the area well enough. "Do you want to be transferred away?" No, I love the people here and I'm not ready to go. "Do you want President to get mad at him?" No, because then he'd yell at me and it would get worse. "So what do you want?"
     After a long pause, I responded in my heart, "I guess I just want him to know what's going on. I want to know that he hears me and knows what I'm going through."
     Then the Spirit changed my life and especially my mission with this phrase: "That's why we pray."

     We pray because God listens and we need to remind ourselves of that. We pray because we want Him close to us and because we trust Him. We pray because we know He will be fair and will always do what is best for us. President Warne often said that there are three types of obedience: obedience because it's a commandment, because we want blessings, and because we love God. It's the same with prayer. I used to pray because I was supposed to, and I later prayed because I wanted to ask for things or even to feel the Spirit, but this experience was the first of many throughout my mission that remade who I am. I learned to pray because God is my Father, I love Him, and I want to be close to Him. I learned to pray about meaningless things, things that I couldn't imagine God caring about, but I learned that if it's big enough for you to care about, it's big enough for God. I learned to be honest with Him and be satisfied in turning only to Him when nobody else could help me.
     I learned that while God is my Father, He is also my friend.
     This experience didn't change whether or not I prayed, but it changed why I prayed, how I prayed, and even how often I prayed. It changed my heart and the way I saw my Father, and it made me feel indescribable love for Him. It made me trust Him. It made me want to be like Him. It made me want to know Him.
     I still read my scriptures and pray often, but not quite the same way as I used to, and I've been working on that. I noticed a slump in my spirituality, and I traced it back to this, always to this. Maybe the answer is different for you, but for me, when I want to come closer to my Father, I talk to Him. How can I know Him, be like Him, or feel close to Him if I don't keep Him close to me? So my advice is to dig deeper in your prayer and scripture study. The temple, service, fasting, and a million other things will certainly help you, but my testimony is that how close we feel with our Father greatly depends on how we talk to Him.

But in case all you needed was a list:
9 Ways to Draw Closer to God:
1. Sincerely and humbly pray.
2. Act promptly on spiritual impressions.
3. Search the scriptures daily.
4. Live the law of the fast.
5. Be worthy and worship in the temple.
6. “Trifle not with sacred things” (D&C 6:12).
7. Be prepared to move forward in faith.

8. Let the Lord decide the details of what He chooses to reveal and when He chooses to reveal it.

9. Heed prophetic warnings.

- Sister Linda K. Burton, Relief Society General President (2012 - present)


Konrie's Korner:

This time I am going to talk about something a little bit different from Richie. The first thought I had when you asked how to draw closer to God was to think of Him always. When I got back from my mission, one of my happiest times was when I was able to have my Father in Heaven constantly or at least frequently on my thoughts. I would just be walking to class and list all my blessings and feel the inspiration to stop for a half second to compliment someone going in the opposite direction. It was a time when people and little inspirations from the Spirit were the most important. I was so happy and so satisfied with life because I felt Heavenly Father working through me.

I have thought back on that time since then and wondered why I am not as happy as I was then, and I reached the conclusion, I used to cast my burdens upon the Lord. I trusted that if I followed His prompting to stop to talk to someone instead of head to class on time, He would help me to still understand what was going on. I had faith that if I magnified my calling despite being super busy, that I would have enough time in the day for everything important.

Sometimes I don't have that faith, sometimes the here and now distracts me from the eternal perspective of which things truly matter. It isn't the money or that grades but relationships and knowledge. I truly feel closest to God when I am taking care of His children and remembering Him in the little things. I love you, and I hope that this helps :)

Living What You Taught

Dear Little Sister,
Hey girl! So how's R.M. life treating you? I'm always glad to hear that you're staying busy, 'cause that means you're staying sane. I used to think that people who came home from their missions and started school a few days later were nuts, but after I went through the transition at the same time as you—coming home mid-May and having the whole summer ahead of you—I was actually jealous of them. I eventually got a good job a month after I returned, which I've had for the last year, and that in addition to moving to Utah kept me busy. It's so important to stay busy once you get back; you can't just serve so diligently for so long and then stop—it's like hitting a wall. And additionally, now that you've served a mission, your body and mind can tell when your "busy" activities have little or no value. It was hard to make that change, knowing that while I was supposed to be busy, it wasn't okay for me to waste all of my time.
     Mission habits can be tough to break, which can either be a good or bad thing, but it requires adaptation to your new roles. The exact behaviors you learned may not be applicable anymore, but the principles behind them are. For example, you don't have a companion by your side at every moment of the day, but you've learned the importance of surrounding yourself with good people. learning from their strengths, and being there for them when they need you.
     One of the hardest things to do, though, may be to make the transition that you're no longer invincible. Neither of us were perfect missionaries, but didn't you ever feel fearless? Unstoppable? I remember my brother telling me how he had regained that fear when he got home, and I thought it was such a strange concept. Just being a missionary, called of God and empowered with His Spirit, gave me so much confidence that as long as I was following Him, nothing could go wrong—even if it didn't go according to my plan. As long as I was following His plan, His rules, His guidance, there was nothing I couldn't do. It's not that that principle goes away, but you're not called to the same command. You're not being asked to face the front lines. You had to learn how to lead on your mission, and I think we all do, but now is the time to follow.
     I started thinking about this today when a good friend of mine, Leah, posted a profound thought on Facebook: "Imagine the people of Moses fleeing the Egyptian army. Enemies are behind them. On either side are walls of water which at any moment can come crashing down. Ahead of them lies the unknown, which could end up being worse than their present situation. If they take too much time deciding whether to head into the unknown, either the army or the water could kill them before they make up their minds. The best choice for them was to hurry into the unknown, trusting in the prophet. When you are in a metaphorical situation like this, where time is short and you don't know what's ahead, have faith and press forward. Things will eventually work out."
     As a returned missionary, you know exactly what it's like to be Moses. You know the feeling of inviting others to come unto Christ and to hurry already. You know how to trust in the Lord's direction and to take others with you, even if you don't have all the answers—you just need all the faith. But now you're back in the crowds of Israel, just another follower. You have a bunch of people around you that you can influence, for sure, but your role in leading them isn't the same. You lead by the example of how well you follow. And it can be hard to follow by faith when you're so used to being invincible.

     I've seen how that can be one of the most challenging mission habits to adjust. You taught people how to listen to the Spirit, you taught them the commandments, and you challenged them to obey them. Sometimes, they didn't understand why, but you knew that they would never gain a testimony of the principle until they'd applied it, so they just had to have faith. And now it's your turn.
     If you haven't already, you'll soon learn that post-mission life is nothing like it was before. You lived in a bubble where your responsibilities were relatively few. Now you're getting ready to go off and make your own way, applying the principles you learned both at home and in the field. Because you were a great missionary, I'm sure you're excited and confident, but I want to remind you not to overlook how you can improve.
     A while back, Konrie and I had to talk about something (I share this with her permission). It's not important what, but there was something she wanted to do that I knew wasn't okay, and it would drastically affect our family. It's vital to talk about these things, just as Konrie needs to talk to me when I'm making a decision that could have an impact on our family. We're a team. But on this one, we didn't see eye to eye. It was something I had a testimony of, and we had many sincere talks about it. We wanted to base our decision on the standards the Lord has set, so we read talks, lessons, and quotes from the Gospel Library. Nothing convinced her. She kept saying, "Just because it says that in general doesn't mean it's right for me." She kept praying that the Lord would tell her what to do, but she never felt an answer. I felt that He didn't need to tell her anymore than He already had, which was quite a bit after we'd read so much. But she wanted God to tell her explicitly before she would do it. Finally, I reminded her that she had taught so many people that they couldn't know the Book of Mormon was true until they'd read it, at least in part. He won't give us answers if we haven't put in our part.

     That reminder struck her. She couldn't believe she'd taken the place of the people she'd led on the mission, asking for a sign without putting forth the effort. It didn't take long for her to find confirmation after that—not an answer, because the Lord had already given her that through many prophets, but confirmation that the Lord was pleased with her decision.
     I'm pretty open about my weaknesses, so I'm okay with sharing my strengths. I know who I am and what I need to work on. Yes, I need a little bit of everything, but while I'm mostly lacking in patience, humility, empathy, and a few other essential Christlike attributes, I know I'm mostly okay in a couple of others, including obedience. I know it, I live it, I love it. I love obedience. Konrie has developed many of the attributes I haven't, and vice versa. We work together and help each other. I mentioned today to her, planning out this letter, how I didn't know if I'd had a similar experience to hers, asking for a sign after teaching so many people that that didn't work. She replied, "The sad thing is, I didn't think I did either. I couldn't believe it when I realized."
     Now that you're back, you'll need to transition from Moses to layman, following counsel rather than giving it. I don't know how much work that will take in your case, but be careful to keep the ground you've already won. You've seen that God is good, and you know that He will always help you. One of the principles of which my testimony is strongest is that God is much smarter than me. Don't forget that now that your biggest test is to become the person you challenged others to be. It's time to practice what you preached. You can do it!



"And now, I, Moroni, would speak somewhat concerning these things; I would show unto the world that faith is things which are hoped for and not seen; wherefore, dispute not because ye see not, for ye receive no witness until after the trial of your faith."

- Moroni, Ether 12:6





Konrie's Korner:

I am grateful that Richie thought to talk about this and to share my experience. As he said, I really wasn't expecting to be someone that struggled with "practice what you preach." I had grown up in the Church; we have wonderful parents that taught us to live the gospel and to be obedient. I always regarded myself as a very obedient person, but this experience kinda shook me. It is hard to see yourself differently, to realize you (just like friends and family) may not be the same person you thought you were and you need to improve both your strengths and weaknesses.

I remember one day on the mission, my companion, (whom I loved and thought highly of) sat me down on a bench and asked if we could sing a hymn and say a prayer before she told me something. She picked the song More Holiness Give Me. I could tell she was trying really hard to have the Spirit when she spoke. She told me that I was prideful and needed to be more humble. I was so hurt! I actually liked this companion and thought she liked me!! How dare she! I remember writing our mission president about it, and his response was so perfect. He told me maybe she was right, maybe I did need to be more humble...there have been many times since then that I've realized that I need to grow and improve and be willing to do so.

It is okay to not be perfect; it is okay if you realize there is room to improve—no one on this earth is perfect. You are not alone in your quest to be better. I love you, little sister. You will do amazing things—I just know it.

Fathers Who Love Their Families

Dear Little Sister,
You have an amazing father. I've only known him for about six months, but I've already seen both through his actions and the effect he's had on Konrie that he has carefully and consistently taught his children to love God, love their family, and love others. I can see what a positive influence he's had over you all, and I can tell how much he loves you. He works hard to provide for the family, and he makes sure to spend enough quality time with each of you, teaching you both principles of life as well as fun hobbies and skills. He's given me wise and inspiring counsel on multiple occasions, especially when I asked for his blessing to marry Konrie. You're very blessed to have him.
     Being a father is a sacred calling, one that should be taken seriously and with a spirit of humility. The best fathers I know have been the ones who work, teach, and rely on the Lord. But beyond these essential qualities, I think that one is above all others: love.
     Love is the greatest, most sincere reason to do anything. It's supposed to be our motivation to keep the commandments (see John 14:15), and it's the reason God sent His Son to save us (see John 3:16). It's the reason true fathers are more than just breadwinners and DNA donors. It's how their children know they can trust them, how sons know how to treat their future wives, and how daughters know how to expect their husbands to treat them.
     One of the greatest fathers that I never knew was my great-grandpa, Bernard Matli. Grandpa Matli passed away about two years before I was born, but I always loved hearing stories about him—his band, his farm, and anything else my mom could remember. I grew up playing games with Grandma Matli, and I always felt so close with her. After many years battling illness and decay of old age, she finally passed away while I was on my mission. It wasn't a surprise, but I was still sad—until I remembered that she and Grandpa could now be together. From what I've heard, there could never be a married couple as enamored as they were.

     My favorite story about Grandpa Matli covers a period of many years. He and his family ran a farm, and by the time they came in to eat dinner every night, he and the boys were exhausted—and hungry. Grandma Matli knew that her husband would be the last to come in because he always stayed behind to make sure everything was in order and ready to leave until the following day. She wanted to make sure that he got plenty of food, so she always set aside the chicken breast, the largest piece, for him before the hard-working boys came in and devoured their meal. They apparently ate a lot of chicken on this farm, which sounds like a good deal—my Grandma's fried chicken was legendary—so this happened often, time after time, year after year, my Grandma showing such love and devotion by making sure that her husband was taken care of. Years later, when the kids had gone, Grandma and Grandpa Matli continued eating chicken. Only this time, Grandpa finally served himself, and he picked out a drumstick. Grandma was shocked and said, "But dear, I thought you preferred the breast!" He replied, roughly, "No, honey, I've always liked the dark meat best. But I was so grateful for your thoughtfulness that I never said anything." Over the years, they had both served each other and done all they could to show their love for each other, and their children saw it.
     My parents are my perfect example of marital unity. Anyone who says they've never argued with their spouse is lying, but anyone who can honestly say they've never heard their parents argue had good parents. I never heard my parents argue. Sure, they fought, and they disagreed, and I could sometimes tell when they were about to or when they had done so recently, but arguments always happened out of the presence of us kids. My parents always made their decisions together and never, ever undermined the other in front of anyone else. When either spoke to us, it was always in "we," "us," and "our." Everything they did was as a team.
     You've met my parents, obviously, and you may have picked up on some things. For instance, my dad likes to talk. I get that from him. But I don't think many people realize how much talking my mom does behind the scenes. She's a singer and performer, but she doesn't always like speaking—I'm not sure why, but she doesn't tend to speak up in public. But in our home, she and my dad talked constantly, and when he speaks in public, as he likes to do, he speaks for both of them—because they've already discussed it together. When I get my mom on her own, she's as smart and quick as they come, but she prefers to step out of the spotlight in public. But my dad speaks up, making sure that my mom's view is represented.
     The loyalty they have for each other has never been in low supply. Once, my dad was driving a bunch of men from Church to a stake function of some kind, I think. Unfortunately, when men get together, they sometimes complain to each other about their wives, trying to outdo each other with how silly or inconsiderate or incompetent their wife was that one time. But this time, fed up with this kind of conversation, my dad pulled the car over to the side of the road, turned around to face the men, and said, "If you have problems with your wives, go home and talk to them about it. But I don't want to hear another word about it in this car." He turned back around and kept driving and what continued as a relatively silent ride. My dad doesn't tolerate disloyalty to spouse, and I try to follow his example.
     In addition to teaching us how to be good husbands, he taught his children how to be good fathers. I was too young for this, but when he was a private investigator, he often took my siblings on surveillance with him. Don't worry, it wasn't anything dangerous—just people falsifying injuries to get Workers' Comp and stuff. But it could take him on long road trips, and he always made sure that the kids got their own dad time. The stories and memories they made are heartwarming and hilarious, often involving a child needing to pee, and even though I couldn't go with him, I was always so grateful for a father who cared that much about his children that he wanted them to be a part of his life.

     Years later, when I was about fifteen, my family moved from Arizona back to California, which was the sixth time I had moved. I've moved eleven times now (not counting the mission), and it never really got any easier. I hated leaving friends and familiar places, especially when we seemed to leave just when I had grown to love the place I lived. People always ask what it was like to move so much. Well, I imagine it was the same for me as it is for you to have only moved once—normal.
     I learned a lot of lessons from my father during these times, but none more so than the one that took me years to fully appreciate—the one he never said, and maybe that's why the lesson is so much more powerful to me.
     This time, moving from Arizona, my dad had needed to find a new job, and most of his contacts were in California. That was by far the easiest way for him to get work, so he got a job pretty quickly, which was a huge blessing. The only consolation was that we got to move back to Carlsbad, into the same ward that I had lived in for seven years as a child.
     When you've moved eleven times, seven years is a long time to stay in one place. I don't consider any one house home, but Carlsbad is the city I'm from.
     We got to be around many of our old friends, and it was so much easier to adapt. We didn't have to deal with the stress of feeling left out or learning a whole new game in a whole new place. At the time, I just thought it was the coolest thing ever. Looking back, though, I realize what a sacrifice my dad made.
     His new job was in Cerritos, which is about an hour and a half away from Carlsbad. He had to drive three hours every day in L.A. traffic just to get to work and back—three hours that he wasn't getting paid, that he was alone, and that he was stuck in gridlock. To avoid the worst jams, he woke up at 4:30 a.m. every day and got to work by 7:00, beating the morning crowd and leaving early enough to avoid the evening ones. He had to readjust his internal clock so that he could go to bed at least by 9:00 every night, meaning that he never stayed up late again while he was working.
     For about four years, he woke up before the sun and drove a total of three hours every single day, Monday through Friday. Over 3,100 hours driving back and forth, back and forth—all so we could be with our friends. All because he felt awful taking us away from people we loved so many times, not because he wanted to but because he had to so he could take care of us. As soon as he had the chance, he made one of the biggest sacrifices I can imagine just to make the transition easier for us.
     And he never said a word.
     He never told us we needed to be more grateful, never demanded recognition, never complained. He just did it. It wasn't until I was on my mission that I realized how much he must have hated that, how much of a sacrifice he was making—just for us.

     That's the kind of father I want to be, the kind of husband I'm striving to become. I'm so grateful to the wonderful fathers in my life, especially my own, who have taught me the kind of man my family needs me to be.
     I know you're not super into dating right now, and I'm not trying to convince you to feel otherwise. But whenever that happens and you're looking for a guy, look for one like that. Look for one like your dad and like mine. Look for one who will put you first and treat you like a princess. Look for one who will do anything and everything in his power to make you happy and to take care of you and the children you'll have together.
     Fathers aren't just for making money, driving us to dances, and telling horrible yet somehow funny jokes. If we watch, if we listen, we'll see what we could be if we love the Lord, love our neighbor, and love our families.

"By the way you love her mother, you will teach your daughter about tenderness, loyalty, respect, compassion, and devotion. She will learn from your example what to expect from young men and what qualities to seek in a future spouse. You can show your daughter by the way you love and honor your wife that she should never settle for less. Your example will teach your daughter to value womanhood. You are showing her that she is a daughter of our Heavenly Father, who loves her. Love her mother so much that your marriage is celestial. A temple marriage for time and all eternity is worthy of your greatest efforts and highest priority."

- Elaine S. Dalton, Former Young Women General President (2008 - 2013)





Konrie's Korner:

My dear sister, I hope you will forgive me if I dedicate today's post to our father and what he has done for me. (also please show it to him)

I love calling my father "Daddy." I just reminds me of all the fun times we have had together as well as all the things my daddy lovingly taught me. When I was little, I would race my dad's truck to the corner to wave goodbye as he drove to work. As a family, we would every once in a while go to a park and play soccer. My dad was always so tricky to get past, especially because he used to be too big to push away from the ball ;) We still play together, but now that we are all older, the game is a little different because Dad and soccer coaches taught all the sisters and brother to be great competitors. T.V. shows like NCIS, Monk, and Scorpion as well as action/adventure movies are my favorites because that was a way my dad and I would spend quality time together in the evening.

One of my favorite times to be with my dad is during car rides when I get a one-on-one chance to ask him anything and seek his wisdom. One conversation that really helped me was what kind of guy he thought I should marry. He said I needed someone that would serve me and take care of me because I would often forget myself as I served others. His answer showed me how well he knew me, and I used it to know that Richie was the one.

I have been so blessed to have a father who lovingly teaches by example. I always loved when my dad would take me to work with him. Being a landscape contractor, he would put me on a labor-intensive task that would cause me to sweat and use all the (few) muscles I had. I always give my dad the credit when people see how easily I can help carry half a couch, because my dad would often ask one of my many sisters or me to help him load and unload his heavy tools into his truck.

My daddy is my hero and I am so grateful for his life lessons that helped me be who I am today :) I love you, Daddy.