i married him for his handiness

So a really funny thing happened this morning.

We rolled out of bed about half an hour later than we should have (call me lazy but I just really don't think alarm clocks should work before seven) So we were hustling a little bit to get to class on time. I decided to run out to start my car to get it to defrost a little bit (this cold weather is killing me man! I just feel so unprepared for the freezing-ness).

So I'm running to the door in  my usual start-the-car-in-the-morning attire (my tight, tight, unattractive leggings I wear under my dress pants, a shade shirt, and boots. Kolton shakes his head at me every time I leave the house in this outift. He's slightly embarrassed of/for me.)

I reach the door, try to twist the doorknob and.....

Nothin.

So I try again.

and again.

and again.

and again.

Nothin.

The doorknob will not budge. There's no twisting action or anything going on here.

So I try to mess with the unlock device.

Still nothing.

So I did the only thing I could think to do.

Cried.

Just kidding! I politely asked Kolton if he could come see what the heck was going on with the door.

So Kolton walked to the door, tried to twist the doorknob and experienced the same confusion I had. (see above situation for all the details)

After a little pushing and shoving and unnecessary roughness toward the door and more futile twisting on the doorknob, we just looked at each other. 

And looked at the door.

And looked back at each other. 

Then we decided that we may as well enjoy our prison sentence, jumped back into bed, and watched movies the rest of the day. 

Not really.

But I considered it for about half a second. 

Instead Kolton pulled out his handy dandy drill and went to town taking off the doorknob. After a little more finagling with the inner workings of the doorknob-I was obviously no help with this; I decided it would be a better use of my time to put on some actual clothes just in case Kolton's finagling actually worked. 

Unfortunately, he is a very good finagler, the door was working in no time, and we had to go to school.

Bummer dude.

But it was still a nice adventure to begin the day with.

in which we watch westerns and start rumors

I came home not very many weekends later. My friends was leaving on his mission and I was planning on going to his farewell. I also had other reasons for returning to Monteview... As we went through the line, Bruce Smith asked Kolton if there was a reason why Kolton and I were there together. I let him answer that question on his own and conveniently snuck away.

We also ran into my piano teacher, Yvonne, who talked to me all about the dates I had been going on (with boys from Provo) until she saw Kolton behind me. Then she pursed her lips and looked at me with a smile before trying to backtrack. (I secretly got a big kick out of this. Mostly because I don't know where she was getting all her information, but also because it was a pretty awkward situation with us still not exactly knowing what we were doing) 

Later that night we watched Maverick which is one of our favorite shows now. And talked and talked and talked some more until we heard my mother's croaky voice from the top of the stairs.

"Jayc.....do you know what time it is?"

huh-uh.

"You might wanna find out"

Kolton and I looked at each other.

He was mortified.

I was cracking up.

We went upstairs and saw that it was three o'clock in the morning!

So I shooed him home and told him I'd see him tomorrow.

The next night, Kolton picked me up and we headed to his grandparents to pick up his siblings. We walked in and saw that his grandparents had company. A lot of company. A lot of company that was made up of Kolton's aunts who were all sorts of curious about the girl he had with him.

After we escaped that attack with Kolton again mortified and me cracking up, we headed back to his parents house where Kolton made me his specialty dinner-oriental chicken (later to be the dinner we ate by candlelight the night we got engaged). After we finished that deliciousness, we decided to put in another movie, "The Cowboys" which I had never seen before. I know, I know. But it was good! Especially because we were all cuddled up with each other. And it didn't feel weird or awkward-just nice.

Well, nice until his dad came down and caught us all cuddled up. (this time I might have been a little mortified)

When Kolton dropped me off at my house, my mother had so cleverly hung a sign on the door that read "BYU Approved Housing" (meaning curfew is at midnight)

She thinks she's hilarious.

On Sunday, Leroy gave his talk, and did an awesome job, but the best part might have been being the last ones in the Sunday school class, sitting on the front row, and having Kolton put his arm around me while we shared scriptures-again! Because I had conveniently forgot mine-again! And having a million people attack our parents with questions about what exactly was going on with the two of us.

Our parents didn't know much more than we did, so I don't know how those conversations went.

But then all too soon the time came for me to leave. (I quickly came to dread 4:00 on a Sunday because it was time to make the four hour drive back to Provo)

We said our goodbyes, and neither of us really knew what was going to happen between then and til I could head up north again. (I'll give you a hint: good stuff)

christmas break part 6

So after Kolton had spent the night (on the couch of course) and we had spent the morning together, it was time to go home. As we were driving and talking, just the two of us, I came to the realization that we had spent nearly every day all day with each other that entire week. I had seen him every day and chatted with him every day and we still hadn't run out of things to talk about.

Whoa.

That made me happy.

But the Christmas Break was over and I still didn't really know what to make of all the happenings. I still didn't exactly know what was going on here.

So he dropped me off and I headed back to Provo, and back to my almost-boyfriend, with no clue what I was going to do.

I picked up my roommate Heather and on the long drive shared with her the whole story of my Christmas break (all 6 parts!) and she was just as confused as I was.

Over the next few days I battled my confusion, came to a mutual understanding/agreement to end things with the almost boyfriend (aren't those mutual feeling kind of breakups the best?!), and of course, talked to Kolton.

And that was the beginning of a whole new kind of relationship that wasn't actually that new to me...

The long distance relationship.

I had been around this block before and knew that even though it was exciting and fun to talk via phone, nothing beats seeing each other in person, and long distance relationships rarely, if ever, work out.

The odds weren't exactly in our favor.

Especially if you consider that we really didn't actually know each other that well beyond a week of Christmas break and that Kolton was heading up to school and a social life, while I was 350 miles away at my own school with my own social life.

I really didn't know what was going to happen and I knew that he was just as confused about this as I was, but I decided to just let the chips fall where they may and see where that got us. 

So that's what we did.

here we go again....

Remember in our last ward? When we had to teach our first Sunday School lesson?

(How could you forget that overload of too much information, right?)

Well, guess what our new calling in the ward is?!

You guessed it-Gospel Doctrine teachers again. (actually we've had this calling for a few months, I'm just catching up)

But thankfully it has been exponentially better than that first time. There's three other teachers so we don't have to teach as often and I am decidedly less nervous...and sweaty. Which is awesome.

We actually had to teach yesterday and it was one lesson that I felt like just went really well.

We didn't prepare our lesson until Saturday night (of course) but when we got up Sunday morning and quickly went through it again, it just really clicked and we got some good ideas that really worked well.

The lesson was titled "God is Love" and was all about how Heavenly Father shows his love for us, how Christ shows his love for us, and how we show our love for them.

We split up the lesson so I taught that part about Heavenly Father's love for us and Kolton taught the other two parts (lucky, I know).

We started off talking about how Heavenly Father allows us to repent and be baptized and communicates with us through prayer and has given us the gift of the Spirit to guide us, and how all these things are ways that he shows His love for us.

So on Sunday morning while previewing the lesson, I remembered this talk by Hugh B. Brown called "God is the Gardner" that Kolton and I had listened to a long time ago. I thought that this talk would be good to listen to and would be a much-needed break for the class members from my nonsensical ramblings. As I was planning around this talk I thought it would be great to talk about how Heavenly Father really does direct our lives, which is another way he shows His love for us.

So we went to church and got in the room to teach the lesson. I did ramble incessantly and we did listen to the talk as we had planned. I've included the text because it's just that good. Definitely not a good as hearing the actual talk, but the text will do. It's a little long, but definitely worth the read.

I was living up in Canada. I had purchased a farm. It was run-down. I went out one morning and saw a currant bush. It had grown up over six feet high. It was going all to wood. There were no blossoms and no currants. I was raised on a fruit farm in Salt Lake before we went to Canada, and I knew what ought to happen to that currant bush. So I got some pruning shears and went after it, and I cut it down, and pruned it, and clipped it back until there was nothing left but a little clump of stumps. It was just coming daylight, and I thought I saw on top of each of these little stumps what appeared to be a tear, and I thought the currant bush was crying. I was kind of simpleminded (and I haven’t entirely gotten over it), and I looked at it, and smiled, and said, “What are you crying about?” You know, I thought I heard that currant bush talk. And I thought I heard it say this: “How could you do this to me? I was making such wonderful growth. I was almost as big as the shade tree and the fruit tree that are inside the fence, and now you have cut me down. Every plant in the garden will look down on me, because I didn’t make what I should have made. How could you do this to me? I thought you were the gardener here.” That’s what I thought I heard the currant bush say, and I thought it so much that I answered. I said, “Look, little currant bush, I am the gardener here, and I know what I want you to be. I didn’t intend you to be a fruit tree or a shade tree. I want you to be a currant bush, and some day, little currant bush, when you are laden with fruit, you are going to say, ‘Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for loving me enough to cut me down, for caring enough about me to hurt me. Thank you, Mr. Gardener.’ ”

Time passed. Years passed, and I found myself in England. I was in command of a cavalry unit in the Canadian Army. I had made rather rapid progress as far as promotions are concerned, and I held the rank of field officer in the British Canadian Army. And I was proud of my position. And there was an opportunity for me to become a general. I had taken all the examinations. I had the seniority. There was just one man between me and that which for ten years I had hoped to get, the office of general in the British Army. I swelled up with pride. And this one man became a casualty, and I received a telegram from London. It said: “Be in my office tomorrow morning at 10:00,” signed by General Turner in charge of all Canadian forces. I called in my valet, my personal servant. I told him to polish my buttons, to brush my hat and my boots, and to make me look like a general because that is what I was going to be. He did the best he could with what he had to work on, and I went up to London. I walked smartly into the office of the General, and I saluted him smartly, and he gave me the same kind of a salute a senior officer usually gives—a sort of “Get out of the way, worm!” He said, “Sit down, Brown.” Then he said, “I’m sorry I cannot make the appointment. You are entitled to it. You have passed all the examinations. You have the seniority. You’ve been a good officer, but I can’t make the appointment. You are to return to Canada and become a training officer and a transport officer. Someone else will be made a general.” That for which I had been hoping and praying for ten years suddenly slipped out of my fingers.

Then he went into the other room to answer the telephone, and I took a soldier’s privilege of looking on his desk. I saw my personal history sheet. Right across the bottom of it in bold, block-type letters was written, “THIS MAN IS A MORMON.” We were not very well liked in those days. When I saw that, I knew why I had not been appointed. I already held the highest rank of any Mormon in the British Army. He came back and said, “That’s all, Brown.” I saluted him again, but not quite as smartly. I saluted out of duty and went out. I got on the train and started back to my town, 120 miles away, with a broken heart, with bitterness in my soul. And every click of the wheels on the rails seemed to say, “You are a failure. You will be called a coward when you get home. You raised all those Mormon boys to join the army, then you sneak off home.” I knew what I was going to get, and when I got to my tent, I was so bitter that I threw my cap and my saddle brown belt on the cot. I clinched my fists and I shook them at heaven. I said, “How could you do this to me, God? I have done everything I could do to measure up. There is nothing that I could have done—that I should have done—that I haven’t done. How could you do this to me?” I was as bitter as gall.

And then I heard a voice, and I recognized the tone of this voice. It was my own voice, and the voice said, “I am the gardener here. I know what I want you to do.” The bitterness went out of my soul, and I fell on my knees by the cot to ask forgiveness for my ungratefulness and my bitterness. I arose from my knees a humble man. And now, almost fifty years later, I look up to him and say, “Thank you, Mr. Gardener, for cutting me down, for loving me enough to hurt me.” I see now that it was wise that I should not become a general at that time, because if I had I would have been senior officer of all western Canada, with a lifelong, handsome salary, a place to live, and a pension when I’m no good any longer, but I would have raised my six daughters and two sons in army barracks. They would no doubt have married out of the Church, and I think I would not have amounted to anything. I haven’t amounted to very much as it is, but I have done better than I would have done if the Lord had let me go the way I wanted to go.

It's good huh?

So towards the end of the talk, Kolton leaned over to me and asked if I wanted him to wrap up my section, including the talk, and get started on his sections (as if he wasn't already doing over his amount of work). But I looked over at him and said, "No, I think I'd better do it."

Because all during this talk little thoughts had been coming to me that were in a totally different direction than I had planned.

Just so you know, this has never happened to me before. But as I sat there I realized I could tie the principles in this talk to something even greater than I had planned, Something greater that really needed said.  It was like little storm clouds were gathering-the good kind-and pretty soon I had my concluding comments all laid out for me. I knew exactly what I needed to say.

So I stood up and talked about how it's easy to see our Heavenly Father's love for us when we think about how He answers our prayers, and allows us to repent, and gives us the Holy Ghost to guide us. But sometimes, and we don't really ever want to think about these times, He shows His love for us by sending us trials and hard things, and just really unpleasant stuff.

And sometimes we just want to ask (or sometimes we do ask) what in the world is the gardener thinking? How could he do this to me? I've done all He's asked of me, why is He making life so hard?

I definitely don't know the answers to those questions, but I do know that He ultimately knows what is best for us. He knows what we need ten trillion times better than we could ever know. He knows where we need to end up and how exactly we are going to get there.

It doesn't always make sense, most of the time it never does, but if we will just put our trust in Him, we can realize that it will all work out. Not today, not tomorrow, and probably not ever in our lifetime, but someday it will all make sense and we'll see what He had in mind for us all along and how He loved us enough to cut us down so we could reach our full potential.

After I'd finished saying all this, I sat down and was just drained. The room was so still and I knew that what I'd said was exactly what I'd needed to say. And then I realized how much help I'd gotten in saying my piece. There is no way I  could be that eloquent on my own. I had definitely been guided to say what I had, for I don't know what reason. Probably just to help myself.

It really was an experience that has never happened to me before and that I never want to forget.