Garden of the Gods: Labor Day Weekend

(I deleted most of my pictures, but this is one I found of the Garden of the Gods)

On Labor Day weekend my friend Ryan invited me

and a few other friends to go to camping in Illinois.

I haven't been camping in a while, so I was totally game.

We saw some breath taking places.

I can't believe this place has been so close to me all this time and I didn't even know!

I have since deleted all pictures except for this one from Garden of the Gods.

Ryan did a great job planning.

Kent brought a pop-up tent he had bought on kickstarter.

I love trips like this because you get to know people better.

Turns out Ryan loves history and is very insightful.

Kent used to own his own horse

And was able to tell me stuff about Alaska (where he is from) I had never even heard of.

And at the end, we were playing cards and eating candy when I saw this family.

I said - those guys are totally Mormon.

The others weren't so convinced.

I was like, I'm so sure I'd bet $20.00 on it.

To my surprise, Ryan threw $20.00 down on the table

and went over to ask them if they were Mormon.

They totally were!

So we made acquaintances with some people from Kentucky.

It was a lovely weekend.

I recommend Shawnee National Forest

to anyone in the area!

Road Trip: Indianapolis, Indiana

Indianapolis, Indiana

This summer I got invited by a cute boy on a road trip.

Seemed like the best of both worlds to me,

so I went.

That, and I have fond memories of Indianapolis.

Last time I was there was for a half marathon.

Some total strangers took us in

and treated us better than a five star hotel.

It was so amazing we were taking pictures of our towels and place settings.

So, I pretty much love all of Indiana as a result.

The Indianapolis, Indiana temple had been dedicated for only a short time

So we went through it.

It was just beautiful.

And so unique.

The guy who put the trip together wanted to see a Midwestern state fair.

Now, I'm not really into state fairs

or farming.

But, it is an experience, and an excuse for a road trip

And I love doing things other people enjoy with them.

So we went.

Unfortunately by now,

I've deleted most of the pictures.

But just imagine - lumber jack show,

fair food.

animals,

Etc.

When we were done with that, we toured downtown and we were all so glad we did.

There were waterways.

And Danny's reenactment of parkour

and a breath taking sunset.

and we went just a little further and found

THIS

The picture does it no justice.

It is massive.

And ancient

And somewhat mystical.

We were all really glad we kept exploring.

On the drive home, we found this weirdness.

A town that tries to have the world's largest - you name it.

They have a catsup bottle.

Rocking chair.

Mailbox.

Whatever works.

It was fun.

Max Got Baptized

So THIS happened.
I couldn't be more thrilled!

 Backstory: Before Max turned 8 his mother and therefore Max stopped going to church.
I got myself assigned as her visiting teacher
and visited her each month
without her ever knowing.
It gave me an extra motivation to keep in touch with a
beloved friend.
And for the next four years, I tried to keep in contact each month as best I could.

Part of Max's frustration when he was going to church as a little boy

is that there were no boys his age at church.

But over the last year or so that has changed and there are quite a few boys his age.

So the timing just seemed right for Max to come and feel connected.

So I invited them to come to a picnic, and they came.

And the boys in the ward came up and talked to him.

And invited him to church and to scout camp.

He came to church the next day.

Went to scout camp that next week.

And started meeting with the missionaries.

And decided to get baptized!

Over the years I tried so many things to help get home teachers into their home

to help and support them,

but it never worked.

On one occasion I tried to get a Spanish speaking home teacher assigned to them.

Instead they assigned the proposed home teacher to me.

I think they misread my intentions.

One time I planned an entire ice cream night with Max and his mother.

And invited their assigned home teachers to come around the same time

dressed in regular clothes

Just as friends stopping by

One of them was very handy.

And their old home was very rickety.

So I told him I would bring up the house.

And that if he would offer to help

She would invite him over.

The plan played out perfectly.

But the home teacher got too busy with school

and never went over.

I understood, but was disappointed that

the otherwise perfect plan was foiled.

We shall see how Max's life turns out.

I hope it turns out well.

He is a smart kid, with a good heart

and one of the world's most amazing mothers.

He can do a lot of good in this world.

And I hope he will.

My Sister Started a Podcast!

My sister Ginette started a podcast!

Listen to it here.

Les Chou Chou Doux

I first met Monique when my companion said she felt like we urgently needed to visit someone. She wasn't quite sure how to get to this person's house, but she just felt like we needed to go. We kept taking different turns, and sometimes back tracking until at last we arrived at her door. In response to my companion's knock, a woman opened the door with tears streaming down her face. I remember that the floor was wet because she had just finished mopping.

She let us in and told us that she had been praying - in her own prayerful style - which was a conversation with God, out loud, in her apartment pouring out her heart while mopping the floor. Things had been so hard lately, and she needed Him.

He heard her that day and answered in the form of the perfectly timed arrival of us - two sister missionaries.

Her husband had recently left her, and I'll leave out the rest of the gory details, but they were sad. Very sad. And reasonably so, her heart was broken.

My companion was transferred out, and with her husband now out of the picture, it fell to the sisters rather than the elders to visit with her. The only problem was, she didn't care for women. She preferred the company of men and she made no secret of it.

But it was our job to love her and care for her. So doing what we did when the task was bigger than us, my companion and I prayed.

I remember pleading prayers for what was probably at least a week and a half - 'Please, Lord, we need thee to help her let us in. Please show us how.'

Our mission president had taught us - 'There is a way to every human heart. Heavenly Father knows that way, and He can show you.' And so it was with the exercise of great faith on her behalf that I pleaded in my personal prayers as well to be shown that way.

Finally, one day the answer came in the form of inspiration - les chou chou doux. We were to leave her les chou chou doux. It was symbolic. She would know what it would mean. And it was perfect.

A week or so earlier we had been visiting her with the elders and when she shared a poem. It was a poem about this little town where each of the inhabitants had a bag that contained Les Chou Chou Doux (warm fuzzies). They shared these freely until a witch came along and made people jealous and hoarding of their Chou Chou Doux. In time, the witch began replacing Les Chou Chou Doux with cold crystals that took the warmth away.

She is meticulously clean. All throughout our somewhat unwelcomed sister missionaries-only visit, we secretly hid little cotton balls all around her house. After we left she always cleaned her apartment. Strangely she kept finding cotton balls until she had a collection of them. Somewhere along the way, she found our little note about Les Chou Chou Doux. This was how the walls melted away.

The anticipated phone call came after our visit not too much later that night. "I was cleaning and I kept fining these little cotton balls all over my house. I thought it was so strange, and then I found the note!" From then on, she loved us. We already loved her.

Every time we visited we hid little things around her house with a note for her to find. It was our game and the foundation of our friendship. She became a cherished friend.

Last I knew her faith in God was no longer being practiced and life has not been easy for her.

Today she posted this on Facebook:

Which brought back this host of memories (i.e. this story) - and this was my response:

"Explosives - non. Les chou chou doux. Gros bisous, mon amie. :)

If I Ever Stop Believing...

Moroni 8:26

...perfect love, which love endureth by diligence unto prayer...

It seems that so many of the people I love so much have lost their faith in God and it breaks my heart. Why does it break my heart? Because I know Him, and I know how much He loves them. I've felt it for them.

I once had a roommate who was angry at God. Her father had just died. She is a girl with a huge heart and it was broken when her father died. Understandably. Her anger was turned on God. Even if there was a God, she was angry at him. Every morning I would go running and then I would come home and study the scriptures. Each morning I would get inspiration for little notes that I would leave on the mirror for her in our shared bathroom. Though I was the writer, the inspiration was of a higher power from someone who really loved her. I knew that. But she was mad at Him. He who loved her so very much.

One day she and her boyfriend were discussing how they didn't believe in Him. It wasn't my place to tell her that I know He is real and so very aware of her. He cared about her bad days. He knew her kind heart and he loved her for it. He still does. She believed in Him again for a little while, but yet again, she doesn't. It breaks my heart in the same way it does when good friends feud. You know both of their beautiful hearts and wish they could figure that out about each other. But what I learned from her is that God loves us anyway, even when we don't believe in Him. The inspiration to comfort her didn't stop because she was upset with Him, even if she couldn't recognize the source.

I have another friend. Wow. In all my life I have never felt the love of Heavenly Father so incredibly strongly for anyone. It is deep and real and true in a way I really wish he could understand. But there is self-loathing on his part. And though love can be true, the receiving party needs to be able to accept it as true. Just about every week for the last 15 years I've put his name on the temple prayer rolls. One day, I can only hope he can know just how unconditional God's love is - not just for humanity - but for him. Because what I learned from him is that God sees our worth even when we don't.

Max's mother had not gone to church since Max was 8. He is 12 now. She has started coming back which thrills me to no end. Maybe she will keep going. Maybe she won't. I hope she will. I'm that friend still quietly praying, holding my breath at a distance, hoping things will turn out. Influencing when I can. It may be years, but the prayers and silent support are still there. Tonight we were up until 11:30 working on a miserable project and it ended with a big hug and her saying I was there for her whenever she needed me. It is my prayer that I could be and if not that someone else will be. I love her and truly want what's best for her. Even if that means patience for years and years.

But tonight I was thinking, what if that were me? What if I stopped believing? I hope that someone would be there, either patient with my hurt, or my anger, or my lack of perspective and remind me that He is real, His love is pure and unconditional in an incredible way. And that His love for humanity is great, yes. but His love for me, is real and forceful. I just hope someone wouldn't let me forget that. And if it isn't their place to tell me because of my own lack of faith at that time, I hope they will still be willing to follow the promptings they get for me, because I will still need them.

Moroni 8:26

...perfect love, which love endureth by diligence unto prayer...

The Things I Forget

My funny moment of today. Though Max is 12, he has not yet been baptized. In fact, he just started coming back to church two weeks ago. I've thought that he probably needs some scriptures, and that maybe he'll need to get some from the library until he gets some of his own.

Today I was surprised to see he had some. 

A nice set even.

Me: Max, did you get those scriptures from the library, or are they yours? (Thinking they must be from the library, but maybe he bought some?)

Max & Mom: Oh, funny thing about those scriptures, you should see who gave them to him. Look, they even signed on the inside cover!

They open the cover and show me and it says - "To Max on his 8th birthday. Love, Chantal"

....Stunned because I tooootally do not remember getting that for him...

Me: .....hahaha. No way, it's from me! Oh, I totally didn't remember that I gave that to you. (I'm normally horrible at gifts of any kind.)

We are all laughing about this.

I even had his name engraved on the front.