He cheers on every runner

This morning I took a long test at school and then headed over to cheer on the runners at the Boston Marathon. Boston is a fantastic place, in a sense, you can feel the energy when the city comes together for something. The whole town goes to the marathon so that every inch of the 26.2 miles has people on the sidelines cheering, handing out water, and giving high fives. I rode my bike down with a friend to a particular area along the course. It was a little after "heartbreak hill," where at mile 23, the runners have little left to give. We watched the runners come in, all grimacing knowing they had 3 miles left to go. It was an exceptionally warm day for Boston so many were limping and many even headed to the medical tent. Rough estimates were that 1,200 runners needed medical care today. As they passed, we called as many as we could by name. We would look on their bibs for clues or use what they were wearing so they knew we were cheering for them.

"Go Oregon"

"Keep going, Suzy."

"Finish strong, Army."

Then we saw more. One lady was pregnant and running strong. One was pushing their disabled family member in a wheelchair and running. One had an amputated leg and was running while carrying the American flag. I began to tear up.

To this man, you are my inspiration. That man is Staff Sgt. Jose Luis Sanchez, a Marine who lost the lower part of his left leg after stepping on an IED in Afghanistan in 2011.

I thought, "is this what Heaven in like?". Everyone is happy and cheering on those they love and even those they have never met? The feeling there at one of the toughest areas of the race was one of hope. It was tough, they were overheated, and they were in pain, but they kept going, under all circumstances.

We later biked down to the finish line. I stood exactly where four years ago a tragedy occurred, and lives were lost to terrorism, which was a humbling experience. At the finish line, many runners were helping each other through the end- holding hands, lifting each other up, crying together. All raised their hands in the air towards the heavens as they stumbled through the finish line with a smile on their face.

I couldn't help but think that wherever we are in the race of life, there are many unseen people cheering for us on the other side of the veil. 

"Go Andrew, finish strong."

"Keep going Emily; you can go on another first date."

"Hang in there Barry; you can finish your book."

So whenever you feel down, remember that there are concourses of angels cheering us on and that Christ cheers on every runner.

"He doesn’t measure our talents or our looks; He doesn’t measure our professions or our possessions. He cheers on every runner, calling out that the race is against sin, not against each other. I know that if we will be faithful, there is a perfectly tailored robe of righteousness ready and waiting for everyone, 'robes … made … white in the blood of the Lamb.' May we encourage each other in our effort to win that prize is my earnest prayer" (The Prodigal Son, Elder Holland) 

Myself, along with many others, left the race track today feeling profoundly inspired. If the "average joes," the pregnant, the disabled, and the weary could finish the race, so can we. We might need to lean on someone, be carried, or stop for healing but we can do it. Hope that we can always cheer each other on and hear the cheering from the other side of the veil to endure to the end. 

We cheer from the windows of our houses

Chasing dreams

While chasing a dream, you will never be walking down the path of least resistance. Yet somehow we gather the chards of broken confidence, glue them together with a little hope, pray with a lot of faith, and work until things can't not work out. And just sometimes the stars align and we get lucky, to no fault of our own.

I always knew I wanted to work in medicine. I was never squeamish. Rather the opposite, the more I learned about the body and health, the more I thirsted to know more.

When I was 13 years old I injured my knee playing basketball outside, and for a few months we were not sure what was wrong. I began searching on the Internet for signs and symptoms. Then after returning from the doctor with the diagnosis of a torn cruciate ligament and planned surgery, I went home dejected. The bright side was I was given lots of handouts and literature about surgery and recovery. I read those cover to cover hundreds of time and still have them to this day. My medical mind started becoming curious.

That next year I enrolled at Mayfield High School. I saw a spot open for a sports medicine class. The instructor, and eventually one of my mentors, Doc Acklin AT-C invited me to drop the class because it was for juniors and seniors. I somehow convinced him I would not only get an A, I would show I knew more than his upperclassmen. I was called "freshmen" every day of my that class for a year but it seemed a small price to pay to be in an environment learning about medicine.

As a junior I was working as a teacher's aide and ran into the Romanelli family. I became their nanny, although that was just the beginning of the support they gave me. Their father, Dan, was an orthopedic surgeon. I remember watching the kids, and as they were busy with homework or playing with other friends, I would quickly grab the American Journal of Medicine or ABOS he had laying around and read them cover to cover. I would look up the things I didn't understand and take notes on the things I did.

Playing college basketball, I spent far too much time in the athletic training room as many can attest to. From nursing my injuries to trying to pep talks to my friends, it always seemed like a place for healing. I had a bad back injury between my freshmen and sophomore years which ended up with me having three back surgeries, a serious infection, and quite a long summer in and out of the hospital. Throughout that time, I took silent notes about the whole process and the painful side of healing from the patient's perspective. I never want to go back to that summer, but it convinced me even more that medicine was what I wanted to do.

Jump to 2013. I had just graduated from New Mexico State University with a degree in Kinesiology and business. I had been back from serving a LDS mission in Argentina a few months previous.  Knowing there wasn't much left in Las Cruces for me, I found a job at a private orthopedic surgery clinic in Salt Lake City UT. I knew I wanted to go to grad school but couldn't decide between medical school and physician assistant schooling. It was a decision that tugged at my heart every day. My supervising physician, who I hold great respect for, told me every day I should go to medical school and that I'd be a great doctor. I didn't doubt that, but didn't feel at ease with that answer.

After months of deep reflection and prayers, I knew becoming a physician assistant was what I wanted to do. I had met other physician’s assistant who loved their jobs and inspired me- Mahli Michael, Raul Rios, Lindsey Marshall, Anna Peterson, and Karen Gunter. I want more than anything to be a great wife and mother. Call me traditional, but I know mothering a family is one of the most sacred and special callings we can have in this life. I didn't want that to take backseat to a job as a physician. Could it have worked out to do both? Absolutely, people do it all the time. But I never wanted to have to make that choice to take ER call or spend the night with my sick child. Wanting to help coach my kid's basketball team but knowing I had to still work full time to pay off the 10 years of medical school debt would be hard for me. I want to be a wife and mother first, and a health practitioner second.  Plus you can switch specialties and settings, work in a team with a physician, and have shorter time in school. Physician assistant was a win-win for me.

January 2014. I started back to school to take some necessary prerequisites. Two weeks later I got in a head on collision with a driver who ran a stop sign. I tried to keep up with church responsibilities, full time work, and school but was falling apart physically and emotionally.  I couldn't keep up and didn't get the help I needed with the instructor and failed the class and lab- something I had never done in my entire life. I re took it in the summer along with a few others.

Right as summer semester ended I began writing my essays and finishing PA applications but got injured again (almost 6 months to the day). In a freak accident on my mountain bike, I tumbled down the side of a mountain after a bad calculated placement of my rear tire on a narrow single track trail. With just a few stitches and a cracked helmet, I walked away miraculously much better than I should of. But as the days passed, I realized the concussion I sustained was not going to go away as quickly as I had hoped- actually it was getting worse. Memory loss, paralyzing anxiety, and constant headaches became the common side effects that didn't want to go away. Still attending school and balancing all my same responsibilities, I pressed on and submitted my applications for PA school. I turned everything in right on the deadline, hoping for a miracle.

January 2015. After months of waiting, I came to the conclusion that nothing was going to happen this year. I was completely devastated. I had worked so hard, done so much volunteering, taken so many classes, spent so much money on these PA applications. After a heart wrenching breakup with a boyfriend and having the rejection letters arrive in the mail weekly, I decided to stop feeling sorry for myself and get back to work. Still struggling with lingering concussion side effects, I enrolled in 12 credits of classes and a GRE prep class on the side. Maybe at least making yourself swim in deep water would build strong endurance?

Fast forward to now. I survived that spring semester, barely survived summer, but at least I can live to tell about it. During the summer I worked on perfecting the applications (with help from my savvy dad)  and submitted as soon as the new cycle opened. Although I was still struggling with self-doubt and lingering concussion effects, I had faith it wasn't permanent. I started volunteering as a temple ordinance worker, something that was vital for pulling me out of the hole I had dug for myself. And guess what? Slowly and surely I started hearing back from PA schools.

The first interview I went to Boston and had the trip of a lifetime with Erin my sister and visiting our great aunt Laurel Thatcher Ulrich. Everything with the interview couldn't have gone better and I felt it was where I needed to be. I interviewed with the medical director (who is a high up MD at MGH and Harvard, originally from Mexico) and connected well with him and did some of the interview in Spanish. I had many good confirmations in various ways in the weeks that passed. When I received the email of acceptance, I dropped to the side of my desk at work and prayed; I gave thanks to my Maker. How could something so wonderful happen to me? Why did I deserve such mercy?

To somewhat confirm my feelings on Boston before I accepted (spoiler), I went to interview at University of Maryland. I was taken off guard when as soon as I sat down on the flight to the east coast- I heard the words "you know this isn't where you are supposed to be" flash into my mind. It was still a great trip as I visited a close childhood friend and his wife- Mark and Olivia Guthrie. I was grateful for the opportunity to not only visit dear friends but confirm that I had already received the answer in my heart to where I was to go.

Which brings me to now. The day after the interview (while still in Baltimore), I put down the enrollment deposit and accepted at Massachusetts General Hospital Institute of Health Professions. Since then I've felt a rollercoaster of emotions- fear, feeling of inadequacy, worry about being so far from home, worry if this little New Mexican girl can make it in a big town and hospital in New England. But yet again I was humbled when on my weekly Park City commute I was listening to a podcast and had the distinct impression- "Emily, you are lacking faith". So there, ok God I get it haha. Working on that faith thing…

Until then I'm working with my orthopedic surgery group, enjoying the beauty of Utah (snowboarding and biking), spending time with many amazing friends, enjoying the time living close to Erin, working at the temple, serving in my ward/congregation, reading all the books I have stacked up on the side of my bed, soaking up as many opportunities to learn new talents and skills before my free time disappears. Oh yeah also important- trying to snag a good guy who will be my best friend in this life adventure.

So thank you to those who are mentioned above. And so many who should be mentioned who aren't. There have been countless prayers offered by my family, earthly angel friends and roommates, amazing leaders and mentors I have been so blessed with throughout the way. God never gave up on me although at times I had given up on myself. I don’t think I have ever felt so grateful for my trials and where they have taken me. Although chasing this dream has not been the path of least resistance, it never is. Cheers to Boston 2016 and the new adventures ahead!

Doctorin' since 1993

Angels are for real.

There was this one time I fell off a mountain.

Oops, there were two times I fell off- mountain-s? Plural? Let me explain….

August 1999. When I was 9 years old we took a vacation to Salmon Idaho to my grandparent’s new cabin. Obviously, if the cabin wasn’t fun enough, they bought two new four-wheelers. In the rush to get to use them, my grandpa went to buy some helmets, but they only had smaller sizes- which later came to be a major problem.

After anxiously waiting all time for my turn with Grandpa, I finnnally got on and he let me drive will his assistance. We wound ‘round and ‘round going up the mountain on a dirt trail. “Gosh, this is fun!” Next thing I knew, we were drifting across the dirt straight towards the edge.

For there I felt like time stopped. I remember jumping off mid-flight and landing in some rocks, but that’s about all. Why did we drift like fast and furious, I will never know. It haunts me to this day. I woke up some time after and looked around trying to figure out where I was and what happened. I looked down the ravine a little farther to find my grandpa with his head (no helmet) split open on a rock, unconscious, and the four wheeler wrapped around a tree. I was 9 years old, what to do? I suddenly felt that I was in some sort of survival movie. I was miles from the cabin, in the pit of a ravine. What did I do? Run for help…

So I ran. I climbed out of the canyon and followed that dirt road for what seemed to be forever til I found a cabin. I didn't care that it looked creepy, I frantically knocked on the front door and begged for help. Fortunately an ax murderer didn't come out, but a precious elderly couple who looked anxious to help. Angels. I explained that I was in an accident with my grandpa and I wasn't sure if he was still alive but was bleeding a lot. And I was fine. Wait, I flew down a 20-foot ravine and was fine? Did I take a second to realize that? They stood amazed and called the police.

Long story short, it took a few hours for the life flight and rescuers to come all the way up the mountain, get my grandpa out, and get him in the ambulance. Although I swore I was ok, they didn’t believe it, so I was put in a neck brace and a stretcher and drove in the ambulance to the nearest big hospital. My grandpa cracked his skull and had a major brain injury, but later after many months of recuperation recovered fully and returned to practicing law.

My mother's scrapbook page of the event in her words... (She is also an angel for as much as she has to worry about me)

9-year-old Emily, days after the accident

16 years later….

August 2014. I worked a few days a week in Park City and brought my bike knowing we had a break in the day for meetings I did not need to attend. And so I finished up with patients and got dressed and took off to do one of my favorite summer activities during lunch break- mountain biking. I took a trail I hadn’t been on before at Park City Mountain Resort. The trail was pretty wet, but I felt like any other day, just a bit rainy. I rounded a corner and ran into a technical part, so I slowed down and slowly went over the rocks. Suddenly I felt that my back tire wasn’t under me and it had started slipping down with a chunk of the trail. I tried to get out of my clip-in pedals, but the slipping momentum took my bike….straight over the ravine. I did about 5 somersaults, hit my head and chin, bike flew off, and stopped at a tree about 15 feet down. I looked around and assessed the damage, trying to figure out how I even got there cause it happened so quickly. I’ve biked a hundred times before and no injuries. Didn’t look like I had any broke bones or didn’t hurt anything but my bloody chin? Seriously, am I that lucky? Again? Wait, I had done this before. Nostalgia and deja-vu seemed to hit me like a punch in the gut. 16 years ago couldn’t have seemed more like yesterday. I had been saved again.

Next thing I hear is a lady calling down to me. (Angel).

 “Helllooooo, are you ok?!”

“Umm yes?”

“Do you know where you are and what date it is?” (Her thinking surely with how far I fell I shouldn't be alive or conscious)

“August 14^th, Park City Mountain Resort.”

“Wow, ok I will go get some help.”

Then she found her friends, and they scooped me out of the ravine (more angels). I stuffed my gaping chin with some leaves and a bandana to stop the bleeding, and carefully rode to the next chairlift down. I rode back to the office a bloody and muddy mess.  My faithful doctor, PA and x-ray tech got the gravel out of my legs and chin and left with only 13 stitches and a headache. I retired my cracked helmet and called a friend (another angel) for help. Then over the course of the next week, I had multiple angels watch over and care for me in the recovery process of my second concussion in 6 months (car accident in February). Although I was initially fine, a few days later I hit a period of mental confusion, anxiety, memory loss, and weakness. I have been recovering on “medical bed rest” the past week for recurrent concussion symptoms. Angels have continued to stop by and help me throughout this difficult process. Priesthood blessings, loyal friends, and parents, loved ward members. I had many angels working overtime.

Freak trail slide where I got caught

Climbing back out of the drop off with help

Assessing the damage

Could have been worse but I looked pretty beat up.

"Hey doc, does this need stitches?" as I ride down the chairlift

Good old Doc/Boss numbing me up

Now I'm feeling it

I sit and think about this and get emotional. So weirdly similar. Both happened in the blink of an eye. Both I was magically “cushioned” all the way down the mountain. Both times I left seemingly unharmed. Both times I was wearing and eventually saved by my helmet.

Saul put a helmet on David. Uzziah prepared his armies with helmets in the Old Testament. Ephesians and Thessalonians tells us to take up the helmet of salvation.

One of salvation’s definitions states “preservation or deliverance from harm, ruin, or loss”. I was saved. But my life has also been saved my seen and unseen angels in these two parallel instances. I will never understand why things like this happen, I will just pray and try to realize and continually remember how sacred life is and to value every moment. Not sure what lesson I am to learn from this, but I have no doubt that I am alive today because of certain angels in my life. I encourage you, if you ever have wondered if there are angels in this life- to read or listen to this talk "Ministry of Angels" by Jeffrey R Holland. It was already one of my favorites, but now it just means so much more to me. He states:

"My beloved brothers and sisters, I testify of angels, both the heavenly and the mortal kind. In doing so I am testifying that God never leaves us alone, never leaves us unaided in the challenges that we face.... Often enough that distress can be of our own making, but even then the Father of us all is watching and assisting. And always there are those angels who come and go all around us, seen and unseen, known and unknown, mortal and immortal."  



So whenever you feel alone, scared, in danger- look for His angels. Seen or unseen. Heavenly or earthy. They will come now or they might take some time, but they will come. I know I have seen them 'round about me, and if I have learned anything from this experience is that they are real and we are never, ever, alone. Hopefully one day I will meet my angels and thank them for working overtime in the mountains for me......... :) 












PS I wrote this blog in my very minimal allotted computer time with the appropriate head gear (just if you are wondering if I am breaking my bed rest no computer, tv, reading rules)

The stars aligned and I went to Chile...

The stars aligned and I went to Chile

Well, just got back from one of the most memorable trips I’ve ever take. One of the shortest also: 48 hours of travel and 72 hours of stay. Totally worth it. So let me tell you a little about why I would fly halfway across the world for so little time...

Families can be together forever, that’s why. Let’s jump back to fall of 2011. While serving on my mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints in Mendoza Argentina my companion (Hermana) Cynthia Dana Ferreya and I were headed to our apartment around 9pm and were walking through “Centro” San Rafael, a small town in the Mendoza province. I saw this cute family window shopping and decided to stop and introduce myself.

“Hola soy una misionera de La Iglesia de Jesucristo De Los Santos de los Últimos Dias” I said,

“Hi how are you” they responded enthusiastically in English.

“Oh hi! You speak English! That’s awesome. How about we share with you an important lesson in English?”

This is the "sacred square", or corner we first ran into Familia Navarro.

So I continued to talk to them, in English, and asked them if we could come over later to their house and teach them about how families could be together forever (and help them refresh their English at the same time). They agreed and we stopped by the following day. No success. We went by later that night. No one. We felt so strongly about this beautiful family so we stopped by multiple times during the day for a few days til we found Matias, their older son washing the car outside. Later we went in and met the incredible Familia Navarro: Gustavo and Virginia (who had lived in the states for a few years), son Matias (18 yrs old), Luna (7 yrs old), and Morena (4 years old). I had never seen such a faithful and God loving family before. A few weeks later they were baptized.

October 29, 2011, San Rafael Mendoza

But that’s not where it ends. Baptism is just the beginning of our road to follow Christ. They had some very difficult personal, financial and family trials. Very hard. Things in San Rafael weren’t going well. Gustavo was laid off and couldn’t find any work in Argentina’s struggling economy. They had to sell everything they owned and move to Chile in hope for better opportunities. They found the church there again in Valpariso and began to rekindle that goal of going to the temple and being sealed as a family forever.

When we get married civilly (which is still very important) they say “to death do us part”. Why part at death? Why have families and relationships if they are going to end. I don’t believe God wants it to be that way. That is why, in the temple, we can be sealed to our families for time and all eternity. It’s a holy ordinance that we perform in God’s holy temples, temples like the ones in the Old and New Testament.

So via Skype and other messaging apps the Navarros told me they had a temple date. Nothing makes me more happy than hearing that! And wow it wasn't without much prayer and fasting and worrying for them. It means this precious family was living the gospel and wanted to receive God’s blessings. There have been three other families we had an opportunity to teach that have been sealed in the temple but I had not been able to go to. I wouldn’t miss this one. I called Cynthia and told her that we had to go.

So in the middle of full time work, full time summer school, church callings and volunteer work, I put it all aside and was able to go. Financially it was a miracle I made it, I finished my homework and tests before I left (mostly), and my boss said it was fine and supported my decision to go. What? Did that just happen? I am one super lucky girl.

I flew into Santiago (after stopping in LA, Peru) and landed at 5am. Exhausted and in a foreign airport I bear-hugged by lugged and slept with one eye open until Cynthia got there. One awesome sister from the Church came to pick us up and we took a bus, subway, and walked about 30 blocks until we made it to the Santiago Chile Temple (all with dragging our luggage of course, felt like the mission). Seeing them and running and hugging them was like no time had passed. Their ward members were there and we all cried tears of joy. The sealing ceremony was priceless. Morena (the youngest, now 6) was crying because she felt so happy and couldn’t explain it. Made me remember how young children have such a special spirit. We all piled in the car afterwards and headed to Valparaiso (about 2 hours away). 

We stayed in their house and had a grand time. It’s amazing to remember how blessed we are in the states and we have so much. They showed us around the awesome port town, and we went to church on Sunday. There are sometimes when you meet people in your life that you know you've know before sometime in Heaven; the Navarros and Cynthia Ferreya are some of those for me. They have gone through some of the hardest trials I have ever seen and been a huge example to me. 

So the trip was priceless. (I made it home alive which included 3 bus rides through Chile and airport transfers by myself which is also a small miracle). The world can give us such temporary happiness but God gives us real lasting joy. Joy is the biggest understatement of what I feel right now. I cannot be more grateful for the experience to serve a mission and the things I learned and people I met there. I cannot be more grateful for the plan Heavenly Father has made for us to live in families and friend forever if we chose to. Life is hard and bad things happen sometimes, but very often the Lord is just waiting around the corner to give us a miracle or something incredible if we have faith and patience. And sometimes those miracles are eternal, just like this. 

Ode to Marriage

I seem to go through this ever rotating cycle of how I feel about love and marriage in general. It goes a little like this: "wow that guy's cute", getting to know them, being enamored by someone, dating them, loving them, breaking up with them, hating guys for a while, wanting to be a rich single doctor forever. Perhaps adopt kids. Done. End of story. Am I the only one who does this? These cycles can last from a few hours to a few months. If I don't snap out of it quickly, it is easy to get bitter. If you don't remind yourself daily that getting married and having joy in a family is the reason we came here to earth, it's easier than not to get swept up in the world's perspective of "YOLO" or "get rich and die famous". Most say it is way outdated to have a traditional family and want a eternal marriage with someone. Luckily I know better, and so does Sister Julie Beck.....

Shorter version of an amazing talk on the family-----Teaching the Doctrine of the Family (March 2011 Ensign)
Full version of that same amazing talk on the family--- Teaching the Doctrine of the Family (CES Broadcast)

So while being swept up is the confusion of the emotions of heartbreak and the world's noise coming in at every corner, I made this list. Got a new tablet, might as well use it to journal and write random lists like this to boost by faith. So, this is what I want. This is what I have to look forward too and what I will work for.

Ok yeah I cheated, I only wrote down 75. I am just gonna be anxiously awaiting to see what marriage is all about and write the extra 25 things down after I get the experience. I'm sure it is an optimistic view of how things will be but at least I can work for it right?

Oh and while I am on lovely and optimistic, here is one of my favorite songs lately.......

It's it lovely?

Or how about this message about families and fatherhood?

Or if you don't believe Julie Beck or John Legend or the Mormon Message, try CNN:

"A man's top 5 reasons to grow up and get married "

So after watching my amazing co-worker and her husband through their first year of marriage and pregnancy and how happy she seems- it is worth it. After watching cute 80 year old couples hold hands walking down the neighborhood, it's worth it. After watching couples have kids and go through hard times and still kiss each other goodbye and say "I love you", it's worth it. I want that. Although it is uncommon, not easy nor convenient, I still believe in the doctrine of the family. Like Sister Beck warns..

"This generation will be called upon to defend the doctrine of the family as never before. If they don’t know the doctrine, they can’t defend it." 

So this is my resolution: to keep fighting for the hope of a family no matter what the world says, and no matter how skewed I seem to get. In the end, I know it will be hard but infinitely worth it. 

That thing the world calls "TIME"

Time. It passes quicker than you want when you are having fun. It passes quicker than you want when you hear your alarm in the morning. It passes quicker than you would like in the summer. It passes slower than you would like in the winter. It passes slower than you want when you are in pain or in the midst of a hard spot. It passes slower when you are waiting for something important, or even someone important.

Elder Dallin H. Oaks stated “In all the important decisions in our lives, what is most important is to do the right thing. Second, and only slightly behind the first, is to do the right thing at the right time. People who do the right thing at the wrong time can be frustrated and ineffective. They can even be confused about whether they made the right choice when what was wrong was not their choice but their timing.”

Woah Elder Oaks, you hit a nail right on Emily Thatcher’s head.

When I was 17, I thought I had my life totally figured out. I was going to play basketball for four years on a scholarship, get a good degree, find my future husband and start a family shortly thereafter. But I think Heavenly Father thought that sounded nice, but I needed to lead me to other priceless experiences. Three back surgeries, two school transfers, a handful of boyfriends, an 18 month foreign mission, and a few life curve balls later, I am happily standing here in Salt Lake but with that cartoon character confused face.Why am I writing this? Because I have come to a grand realization that until I write it down, I won’t be able to convince myself of it and live it.

I have come to believe that the first principle of the Gospel is faith for some good reason. “Indeed, we cannot have true faith in the Lord without also having complete trust in the Lord's will and in the Lord's timing” said Elder Oaks.  Most times either we do things too late, too soon, or too long. Applying to graduate school before we have the needed experience or background= too soon. Maybe living at home and mooching off our parents= too long. Making yourself available to someone after months of contemplation= too late.

So here’s my pledge. I know I have gotten the answer to obtain higher education so if that be medical school or physician assistant school, I accept either happily. Even though maybe some of my classmates and friends may be whizzing by me and getting higher degrees before I even apply, so be it. Does one or two years really make a difference in the long run? Although it’s frustrating as heck and our pride tells us others are doing more things faster than we are, I think the Lord knows best and we need to trust Him. I need these years to develop and become a better person. I need these years to make lasting friendships. I need these years to prepare to be a better mom. I need these years to have fun and love life. Will I stop progressing and just wait around for good things to happen? Absolutely not. But I will grab every opportunity I have and make it known than when it is my time, I’ll be ready.

So medical school applications done this year- probably not. Sometimes hard things are thrown your way and you have to slow down a bit. Maybe next year? I most definitely plan on it. Time is a worldly concept; the Lord really cares about who we become and not how old we were when we did it. So even though I have this “internal basketball shot clock counting down 5-4-3-2-1, Emily you should be in medical school by now and be making more money and have 2 kids!”, I need to have a little more faith that Heavenly Father has a better plan than the one I’ve imagined.

Happiness comes from accepting the Lord’s will in our lives. We will be eternally frustrated if we want things to go our way. So let’s have a little more faith, a little more patience, and a little more love. Or maybe at least I need to. 

"Do not rely on planning every event of your life—even every important event. Stand ready to accept the Lord's planning and the agency of others in matters that inevitably affect you. Plan, of course, but fix your planning on personal commitments that will carry you through no matter what happens. Anchor your life to eternal principles, and act upon those principles whatever the circumstances and whatever the actions of others. Then you can await the Lord's timing and be sure of the outcome in eternity." (Quotes taken from 'Timing by Elder Oaks, http://magazine.byu.edu/?act=view&a=1042) 

This is Emily's internal shot clock that tells her there is too much to do and too little time. Who even made clocks, seriously? Enjoy the dang game of life. 










This is 17 year old Emily- moderately cocky basketball player Emily who thought she could rule the world. 

And even more importantly, this is 24 year old Emily- a little less cocky, a little more chubby, a little more faithful, a lot more happy.