Ignorance

I DON'T KNOW.




I just don't. And I wish I did. Because not knowing is stressing me out.

Small Mercies

More than a month ago I wore my favorite pair of earrings when I went to church with a friend. I was staying at my aunt and uncle's house and they were supposed to take me and my little brother to the airport before the sun got up the next morning. I came home, and because I was feeling so awful (I'd gotten suddenly sick while at my friend's house), I took them off and put them on top of my carryon. I had a fleeting thought that I should probably put them in my makeup bag lest they get lost, but I was in such a hurry to get in the shower (my favorite way to make myself feel better) that I dismissed it.

The next morning as I was boarding the airplane, something small plopped onto the seat as I put my carryon into the overhead bin. It was my earring. Just one.

I was so upset with myself. I love those earrings. I bought them for approximately $3 on the side of the road outside a subway station while I was serving a mission in Korea, but they were still beautiful and had a lot of sentimental value. (Not to mention every time I wore them someone complimented me on them.) And just because I'd been in such a rush, I'd failed to take care of them properly and now one was gone.

Fast forward a month and a half.

This morning I got up, got dressed, and started putting on my makeup. I decided to wear one of my favorite sweaters, one that I usually pair with those earrings. I felt a little pang and told myself (again) how dumb I was. I thought about wearing my freshwater pearl drops but I wasn't really feeling them today. I went over to the little earring cup I keep on my dresser to see if there might be another pair that would work, knowing full well that there wasn't. I thought, though, that I should find the one earring I did have and stare at it morosely for a while. I looked down. Instead of the one white (fake, plastic) pearl that had been greeting me accusingly for the last month and a half, there were two. I blinked. Nope, still two. I picked both of them up and stared at them a little bemused. Still two.

Honestly, in the grand scheme of things, how important was my $3 earring that really only had sentimental value? Not very important at all. And yet, there it was in my hand. I'm sure people could come up with ways to explain this away, most of them involving subconsciousnesses and perhaps forgetfulness, but I know that it was there because God heard a silly prayer about that earring and answered it. It was important to Him because it was important to me; because I'm important to Him. The fact that He did hear and answer that prayer has significance far beyond the intrinsic value of the earring itself. God knows us. He loves us. He wants us to have joy, and He knows the smallest desires of our hearts. He answers prayers. He cares about us, and He demonstrates that care through very small, oftentimes (to us) imperceptible mercies. I know people look at wars and famines and natural disasters and wonder if there is a God, but I look at my earrings nestled next to each other on my dresser and I know that there is.


"In His mercy, the God of heaven, the Creator and Ruler of all things everywhere, had heard a prayer about a very minor thing. One might well ask why He would concern Himself with something so small. I am led to believe that our Heavenly Father loves us so much that the things that are important to us become important to Him, just because He loves us."

- J. Devn Cornish,  "The Privilege of Prayer"

An Update for Katy

‎"For I the LORD thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee, Fear not; I will help thee." 
- Isaiah 41:13

"Fear thou not; for I am with thee"*

*Isaiah 41:10

I need to get a handle on my life. This I-don't-know-what-the-heck-is-going-on-with-my-life deal is stressing me out to the point of mini panic attacks when I think about it. Which, obviously, does not help me deal with things at all, since I tend to compulsively avoid things that cause me stress. Which, as a friend once pointed out to me, only makes the stress more stressful, because when you finally get back to what was stressing you you now have less time to deal with it. But the older I get, the more my Type A need to have control over things is frustrated by the increasing complexity of the multitude of variables that makes up my life.

It's okay, though. I can take a step back, take a deep breath, and explore my options. I'm not completely alone in this; not only are there lots of people at the school and in church who are trained to help with these kinds of things, the Lord will help me - if I ask for it and I'm willing to work to help myself. I just need to keep that in mind.

Goals, Not Resolutions

It might seem like these are late, but today is actually the Lunar New Year (새해 복 많이 받으세요, 여러분!). I've decided against resolutions because, really, who actually keeps them for a whole year? Instead I've made some goals, which I have lots of practice doing thanks to the mission. I've tried to make all of my goals fit together, so that by achieving the immediate goals, I'll be working towards my short-term goals, and that by working towards those, I'll be working towards my mid-term and long-term goals, as well.


Long-Term Goals: Lifetime

* Create and nurture an eternal family.
* Serve a mission (or two, or three) with my husband.
* Be worthy to attend the temple and always have a current temple recommend.
* Serve God in whatever capacity by serving His children.
* Become better each day and strive to apply the Atonement in my life; to be not only justified, but sanctified.


Mid-Term Goals: 5-10 Years

--> Attend the temple regularly and often.
--> Find an eternal companion and start an eternal family.
--> Complete a Master's degree and/or start a career.
--> Serve the people of Korea; foster understanding and spread the Gospel among the Korean people.
--> Complete a written family history of my great-grandparents, my grandparents, my parents, and my siblings and myself.


Short-Term Goals: In the next year, 2012

+ Graduate with honors from USU.
+ Attend the temple once a week, or as often as possible.
+ Build a healthy body, mind, and spirit.
+ Improve the talents I have, and discover new ones.
+ Nurture old relationships, and cultivate new ones.
+ Seek to know who I am and what the Lord would have me do.


Immediate Goals: Now - 4 months

> Schedule a regular time to attend the temple.
> Daily, scheduled scripture study, prayer, and exercise.
> Try one new recipe a week; learn to play one new hymn on the piano each month.
> 1/2 hour a day reading or writing in Korean.
> Call a different friend/family member every day.
> Talk to and engage in conversation with one new person/slight acquaintance every day.
> Pray daily for the guidance of the Spirit -- and then follow whatever promptings may come.









[Source]: Photo can be found here at the Penn Asian Review.

Blast from the Past

Today I decided to go looking for the letters (well, emails) I wrote home to my family while I was a missionary in South Korea. This was prompted by reading my cousin's letter home to his family; he's currently serving a mission in Indonesia right now. Anyway, it's been just a little surreal, reading all the old emails. They brought up some events I'd kind of forgotten and reminded me just how young and sincere I was at the time. I don't think I'm less sincere now, but I'm definitely older and more jaded. And when I look back at my mission, I tend to dwell on how I perceived myself as failing at everything. My letters are a little more upbeat and full of faith, if only for appearance's sake, and they help me remember that I really did feel that way. Anyway, I'll just post one, a letter dated 5 March 2008. At the time, I was still in my first area, with my first companion, and just barely starting to get the hang of things. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say, I was just barely starting to get the hang of the hang of things.

Subject:With Love from Korea!

DearFamily and Friends,

Helloonce again from Korea! Sometimes it hits me all over again that I’mliving halfway around the world from where I was born, and then I getthese little chill bumps all over. Despite being here for almost 12weeks now, it feels just as unreal as the day I landed. Being amissionary, even, is still fairly unbelievable, and it’s been fivemonths since I went into the Missionary Training Center. Missionariesare those other people who wear suits and skirts and come eat dinnerat my house every month, not me. And that’s another thing – canyou believe that I’ve worn a skirt EVERY DAY for the last fivemonths and haven’t killed anyone yet? I would say that isdefinitely an example of the hand of the Lord in my life. ;)

Theend of another transfer (that’s a six-week period, at the end ofwhich some of the missionaries get moved around, which is why it’scalled a “transfer”) is fast approaching – the 15th is thenight we’ll find out if one of us is leaving Anyang. If one of usgoes, it will be me, since this upcoming transfer is Sister Pak’slast and no one gets transferred on their last transfer. I can’tbelieve I’ve been here this long! I feel just as stupid as the dayI stepped off the plane. It’s amazing to me that they send us outto the mission field with the most rudimentary of language basics anddump us right in the middle of things. And yet, despite that, thework of the Lord still goes forth in power. The Lord truly isaccomplishing His work through the small and simple things of theworld (see Alma 37:6-7); what could be less significant than a bunchof 19-21 year olds teaching the gospel in a language they barelyspeak? If it wasn’t His work it would be doomed to failure; thatThe Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints continues to grow andflourish despite the bumbling efforts of the missionaries is atestimony to me of its truthfulness. I’m so glad to have thisopportunity, as painful and humbling as it is, to be a very small andinsignificant part of His work. It truly is a blessing to me, and Ihope, to my family, both present and future.

Mycompanion, Sister Pak, is beginning to wonder if my hair is gettingdarker. She says I’m becoming more Korean by the day; the other dayI mused out loud that kimbop sounded really good. A month and a halfago, I wouldn’t even touch the stuff. The amount of spicy food Ieat regularly now would have sent me to the kitchen sink to gulp downgallons of water in an effort to soothe my mouth two months ago.Korean fashion is beginning to seem very normal – though I will saythat when I see men with green and red plaid shirts with pink andgreen striped ties, I still get a little shock. Sparkly pink ties,sparkly metallic tights, and blouses that look like they came fromVictorian England no longer phase me, however. This morning Icontemplated having rice for breakfast, though kimchi is still alittle much at 730 am. And I’m still American enough that BaskinRobbins is akin to Nirvana. That’s one thing I really, really missabout the States – cheese. Cheese and skim milk. You can’t findthem anywhere, at least not in small enough quantities for individualconsumption. They do have the fake processed plastic cheese, but Ihate that – it’s not real cheese! Real cheddar, real Colby jack,is impossible to find outside restaurants that serve it as part ofyour meal. Consequently, pizza has begun to take on new and moreglorious meaning to me. :) And I still don’t like squid. I thinkthat I will always hate it. [Note: I still do, four years later.]

Ifany of you have something you would like to know about particularly,please email me and let me know. It’s hard to think of things towrite about when I can’t exactly remember what’s common inAmerica and what’s distinctly Korean, and some things have becomeso much a part of my life that I don’t think they’re strangeanymore. So if you want to know something – email me! Even justyour question is fine, if you don’t have time for anything else. Itwould really help me out, and would probably be nicer for you than tohave to read all my random ramblings.

Ihope you’re all well and healthy! I love and miss you. :)

Love,AnnMarie and/or Sister Saunders

What Comes After

That's the question I'm asking myself right now. I'm graduating from college (finally!) in May, and I don't really have a plan for after. I have a broad, this-is-what-I'd-like-to-do idea, but for the first time in my life, I'm really not sure where I'm going to be in six months. Oh, there have been periods of a few months when I was at loose ends, but this time I'm looking at a big, fat question mark right over the part of my future labeled "the rest of your life".

People keep asking me, "Asian Studies? What are you going to do with that?" I'm rather sick of that question, to be honest. I understand why people ask it - who really knows an Asian Studies major, after all? - but it's annoying when I don't know myself. And then there are those who have a thin, polite veneer over their "What a useless degree!" faces when they ask it, which is even more annoying.

The only real, concrete goal I've ever had for my life is unattainable at the moment. I'm working toward it, but it's not something I can achieve on my own. In the meantime, I have to do something with my life. I have a feeling my parents aren't that anxious to let me live at home while I spend my days watching dramas and waiting for "someday". I can't say that I'm that anxious to do that, either.





[Source]: Photo by Macarena C. here on flickr, with these restrictions

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

This was me, 25 Christmases ago.

I'm hoooooooome!

Not jiggity jig, though. Stephen and I left Logan Saturday morning (after pulling a late night doing laundry, packing, and cleaning) with my cousin and his wife. We stayed the weekend at my aunt and uncle's house and had a fun time visiting with the cousins we don't get to see as often. I also got to go to church with my trainer - she goes to the Korean magnet ward in SLC, and so we went to Sunday School in Korean. I was thrilled to realize that I could follow the lesson on the book of Revelation; there were only about twelve words that I didn't know. Radically different from when I used to go to church in Korean, whew! My mission president and his wife only live about a half-mile from my aunt and uncle, so I was able to go over there Sunday evening and have a nice chat with them, too. All in all, a good weekend.

Monday morning we woke up long before the crack of dawn to go to the airport and catch our 7:10am flight. Everything went smoothly until we were on the approach to Albuquerque, New Mexico, where our flight was scheduled to land before we got off in Houston to catch our flight to Nashville. We made the approach, but weren't able to land because visibility was so bad. They rerouted us into El Paso, where they had us switch planes to a flight going from El Paso to Nashville, while our first flight flew back to Albuquerque. Thankfully, that meant that we didn't have a layover and landed in Nashville only a half-hour later than we were originally scheduled to land. On the downside...we had no layover and landed a half-hour later than we were originally scheduled to land. Which meant that all we had to eat between 5am and 3pm was juice and peanuts. Suffice it to say, we were very, very hungry.

The worst part of getting home is never flying, though. It's the three-hour drive home after we've already been on the plane for six hours. By that time you're just impatient and tired of sitting, plus, let's face it: driving the highway in the dark in Tennessee is not the most interesting thing to do. Thankfully, though, Heidi came to pick us up, so the company and the conversation was good. And of course, actually getting home and having all your little siblings run out of the house screaming your name with joy and launching themselves into your arms more than makes up for not eating for ten hours.

It's good to be home.

The Paradox of Mankind

"The great deceiver knows that one of his most effective tools in leading the children of God astray is to appeal to the extremes of the paradox of man. To some, he appeals to their prideful tendencies, puffing them up and encouraging them to believe in the fantasy of their own self-importance and invincibility. He tells them they have transcended the ordinary and that because of ability, birthright, or social status, they are set apart from the common measure of all that surrounds them. He leads them to conclude that they are therefore not subject to anyone else’s rules and not to be bothered by anyone else’s problems.

...

Another way Satan deceives is through discouragement. He attempts to focus our sight on our own insignificance until we begin to doubt that we have much worth. He tells us that we are too small for anyone to take notice, that we are forgotten—especially by God.

...

The Lord doesn’t care at all if we spend our days working in marble halls or stable stalls. He knows where we are, no matter how humble our circumstances. He will use—in His own way and for His holy purposes—those who incline their hearts to Him."

President Dieter F. Uchtdorf

October 2011 General Conference

There's a powerful principle in that - the sin lies in the extremes. God would have us cultivate balance in all we do, and especially in how we see ourselves. It is true that alone we are nothing, and it is also true that each of us have a divine potential - the potential to become like God. But that divine potential can only be realized in a partnership with our Heavenly Father, through the power of the Savior's Atonement. 

[Source]: Picture here at ThingsToLookAtHigh.com

10 Things I Hate to Do

* Clean the kitchen

} Fold laundry

# Scrape ice off my windshield in the morning

@ Smile for pictures

$ Wake up in the morning

^ Write papers

& Explain myself repeatedly

% Clean up other peoples' messes

+ Make my bed

= Wash the dishes

A Few Musings on Beauty

As if anyone needs a reminder how genius John Williams is. The Memoirs of a Geisha soundtrack is one of the most beautiful I've ever heard in my entire life. Of course, it doesn't hurt that Yo-Yo Ma and Itzhak Perlman, arguably two of the greatest musicians alive, are playing the solo cello and solo violin parts. 

The whole concept of beauty is one that has fascinated me since I can remember. It's one of those things like justice we all agree exists, but we all have such different opinions about what actually constitutes it.  We say music is beautiful, we say people are beautiful, we say a view is beautiful. Why don't we have different words for objects and people and views? Socrates theorized about the Forms, the perfect embodiment of a virtue that exists in another place, of which everything that has that virtue here partakes. So the Japanese vase and the English countryside and the African woman all partake of the Form of Beauty - somehow. 

As with most things Socrates, I don't know if I buy that, but it's an interesting idea. 

I suppose the boring, "correct" answer is that we're conditioned to it based on our cultural norms and values and world views, etc, etc. But those don't spring from nowhere, so from where do they come? And is beauty truly a virtue to be sought after, or just something nice to look at and we're all wasting our time trying to pin it down? Why is one thing "beautiful" but another isn't? Why can ten people look at the exact same thing and come up with ten different answers to the questions, "Is it beautiful? Why?" Why does beauty even matter to us at all? Is beauty strictly a mortal matter, or does it exist (and matter) in the eternal scheme of things?

Good questions. Can't say I have the answers.

The Zombie Song

I feel like everyone needs to see this, because it's genius. 

Chapstick, Chapped Lips, and Things Like Chemistry

On Living Alone in a Large House

Sometimes,
loneliness is a loud, silent ringing in your ears,
one you try to drown out with music
or the TV.

Sometimes loneliness is
a tingle along your skin,
as you feel someone's eyes on your back,
but turn to find no one there.

Sometimes,
loneliness is the solitary scent
of just yourself on the sheets
when you wake up, blinking and bleary-eyed, in the morning.

Sometimes loneliness is the sour taste
of nothing on your tongue,
as breakfast and lunch have come and gone
with no one to remind you to eat.

Sometimes loneliness
is a flash of movement
at the corner of your eye,
forever elusive, evading you.

Sometimes loneliness 

is a heavy feeling in your chest, 

an ache that sits on your heart 

and makes it hard to breathe.

[Source]: photo here

The Definition of Me

Why are we so quick to embrace the worst about ourselves? Where does it say that who we are at our worst is a more valid who I am than who we are at our best? Aren't we more often somewhere in between? Why is it that when I do something truly good or self-sacrificing, I brush it off as an anomaly, but when I lose my temper and yell at someone, I wallow in how horrible I am for days?

I've been rolling around this idea of identity for the last week or so. Is who I am defined by what I do? I balk at saying a child is "bad" simply because they misbehaved. But I think most would agree that Pol Pot or Stalin or Hitler were bad, if not downright evil. Obviously these are two sides of the extreme. Most of us fall somewhere in the middle.

I think the relationship is more complicated than a simple one-to-one correlation between being and doing. Intent has to weigh in there somewhere, too. Isn't intent the whole distinction between manslaughter and murder one? The outcome is the same no matter what you call it: someone is still dead. But in the eyes of the law, why you killed them is just as important as the fact that you did.

There's no denying that what you do impacts who you are, but I don't think it defines you. I'm not sure exactly what it is that does define you, but I'm sure it's not as simple as one aspect of life.