Moving home this semester for my internship has been…bliss. I can’t get over how much I LOVE being home. I love living in Salt Lake. I love my job. I love my friends here. But most of all I love coming home to the tall and pretty people that I get to call my own. I’ve always had a great relationship with all of my family members, but for some reason, this period of time feels different. You know when you are experiencing something, and you just know you’ll remember it, because it’s special for some reason you can’t put your finger on? It’s almost like you know you know you’ll never get to re-create your current situation again, and the higher powers that be are telling you to just catalogue every detail in your brain because what you are experiencing is going to be a really good chapter in your book of life. 

Anyway, that’s how I’ve been feeling since January. I have this hypothesis that my sisters and I have an unspoken understanding that this might be one of the last times in our life when it’s just the three of us; so we are taking full advantage of loving and living and experiencing everything with each other. I was thinking about it; in a year—Allie will probably be on a mission, Kate will probably be on her way to Princeton or some other crazy Ivy League school…and me? Well I wish I knew. I’ll be in school, or working, or married (except probably not that last one for a good while…). Basically, we understand that right now there’s no far away colleges, or husbands, or careers pulling us away from each other, so we can just soak up all the good that comes from living under the same roof. I love getting woken up by Kate practicing the piano at 5:30 AM (p.s. she is UNREAL). I love coming home way too late, and having Allie sitting at the bar after her night out too, and talking about boys and life and anything else that two sisters talk about at 2 am. I love our “MUSSENS” family chat thread that keeps my phone happily buzzzzing all day long. I love going to the gym with Allie after work, and cooking some healthy dinner with Kate way later than people should start cooking dinner. I love going to my dad’s singles ward with my teenage sisters, and I love watching 25+ year old men try to flirt with them at socials…(lol). I love that sometimes we meow at each other and try to watch Lord of the Rings (for the first time in our lives) but it’s way too long. I love a lot of things. But mostly, I just love the feeling that’s in our house right now that I can’t totally describe.

The three of us have been on a hectic ride the last two years. A flooded house. Kate’s back surgery. Allie almost dying of internal bleeding. And just last month ALLIE’s back surgery. (Yeah…either I’m a miracle child or the recent Rasmussen medical plague is coming for me too). Even though it’s been tough and scary at times, it’s definitely brought us closer together, and made us see pretty clearly how lucky we are to have every minute that we do have together.

So there’s my little personal detail for this chapter that I’m really loving right now. I hope my sisters know how much I completely adore them, and I’m real happy that I somehow got stuck with them.

stormy seas.

           

Hi. Well I fell off the planet for a solid two months. But I had good reason to. There have been a million things I’ve wanted to write about, but I just kept getting hit with wave after wave of...well, hard. I love this blog, I know that I’m its number one fan, and that’s okay. Maybe my best friend liza, or my mom will take a peek at it sometimes. But it is so therapeutic for me to write. It gives clarity to my thoughts swimming in my brain.

Regardless, let’s get to the point. Even though there are many points I wanted to catch up on. The most important one are these “waves” I was just talking about. So, this little analogy, that I’m now obsessed with, came out of getting dumped back in November. I think it’s really applicable to that situation, but it actually applies to so many situations. So here it goes, hopefully it makes a twinkling of sense.

After I was dumped, it knocked me off my feet. I was so confused. I didn’t see it coming in the slightest. The night it happened, I just felt like the dust of the earth. I felt weak. And downtrodden. I begged Heavenly Father to just give me something—anything. So I cracked open my Book of Mormon and there was the Book of Ether, chapter 2.

{context: the Jaredites are preparing for a sea journey to the promised land}

vs. 5

“And it came to pass that the Lord commanded them that they should go forth into the wilderness, yea, into that quarter where there never had man been. And it came to pass that the Lord did go before them, and did talk with them as he stood in a cloud, and gave directions wither they should travel.”

vs. 6

“And it came to pass that they did travel in the wilderness, and did build barges, in which they did cross many waters, being directed continually by the hand of the Lord.”

vs. 7

 “And the Lord would not suffer that they should stop beyond the sea in the wilderness, but he would that they should come forth even unto the land of promise, which was choice above all other lands, which the Lord God had preserved for a righteous people.”

So, before I begin. Let’s think about this situation. God is telling you to build a boat. A boat that has no windows. And you are supposed to get in there with your family, animals, and supplies. Then you are supposed to launch this boat into the ocean and just hope and pray that God is going to deliver this little cubicle to some promised land. Let’s be real...how would I probably respond? Hell no. (excuse me). But seriously, think about it. Could you imagine how crazy you would go in a dark boat, not knowing where you are or how far you had to go? I would probably jump ship. Luckily, God knew I couldn’t handle being a Jaredite. Except, here’s the thing—God has actually asked all of us to trust him, and get in these dark little boats. Whether we like it or not, we are in the same situation as the Jaredites. Our boats are just custom tailored differently for each of us. On the largest scale, we jumped in our boats to travel throughout life. Life can be a scary place at times. It’s confusing. It’s stormy. It can be a lot of things. But we can take faith, because we know that the Lord will go before us, directing our little boats called our lives, “continually”.  Another interesting note is that it is actually the storms that guided them to their destination. Similarly, the storms we encounter in our lives are what actually force us to grow, to become, and to arrive at a happier state of being. Additionally, God isn’t going to let us jump ship before we reach the Promised Land. I can imagine, that I would have, and I have, complained about being dragged through a stormy sea. Sometimes I just want to be left alone for a minute, I am tired of being tested. Thankfully, we have a Father who loves us far too much to let us out the easy way. God wants what is best for us, he wouldn’t let us settle for anything less than the Promised Land...so he keeps us on the boat, and doesn’t let us “stop beyond the sea in the wilderness”, but makes us wait till we have truly arrived.

Now, to apply to dating. Dating is it’s own little dark Jaredite ship. We get tossed around on the sea, and it’s sort of terrible sometimes. We all think we want to get off the dating ship as soon as we can, but for some of us, we have to stay on the boat until the right Promised Land rolls around. Take faith in the notion that God wouldn’t let you settle for something less than the best. And with every storm, you are becoming, and growing closer to your final destination.

Regardless, (sometimes I feel like dating is a little shallow of a topic...) I think the principle applies to everything. So, what I'm trying to say, is I'm thankful for the storms. But I'm more thankful to know the purpose and the big picture behind all the waves. 

canyons and cousins.

This past Saturday was golden. I kind of HIT THE JACKPOT because I get to have my best friends and cousins so close to me all the time. We planned a group date up the canyon. My cousin Taylor was the mastermind behind it all. I brought the dough. He brought…well everything else. We made homemade pizzas at Southfork in Provo Canyon. Despite me being a slight diva for a few minutes when I was taking my sub-par pizza production personally, the night was magic. The air was crisp. The mountains were stunning. The food was good. And the company even better. After we ate, we set up an outdoor movie. We froze our toes off, while we watched a movie under the clear starry sky. We stayed there for hours after the movie ended, just talking and soaking it all in.

So here’s some advice. Do yourself a favor. Go up the canyon. Now. Because fall is falling fast. And there are too many pretty moments to be passing up for anything else.

chicago.

October 12 has been a deadline in my mind for a few months now. I still remember being in Jerusalem, looking at my phone’s countdown app. I had a countdown for “home”-“sarah”-“school start” and “CHICAGO”. I remember being anxious, because I wasn’t able to train like I needed to while I was in Jerusalem and I felt like the race was right around the corner. I remember kind of having a panic attack when I hit the 90 day range, I hadn’t run more than 4 miles all summer, I had gained a few from eating buffet food 3 times a day…and I felt like I had zerooo time to prepare the big day. The funny thing is, looking back, those 90 days have actually seemed like a little eternity.

My 90 day eternity has been filled with a million big and little things. Reunions with best friends. Family trips. Weddings. A new semester in school. Closure with ended relationships and happy introductions into new ones. Recruiting for internships. Long nights studying. Early mornings running. Eating sweet potato fries at least once daily. Getting legitimately humbled while trying to learn tennis. Listening to general conference. Feeling completely defeated, and completely on top of the world. All within one little 90 day window.

This is the one thing I really love about running. Every part of running—is like this little microcosm of life. Like my ninety days leading up to the race…what happened in those 90 days was life. Long runs are another sort of microcosm of life. Let’s take the actual marathon to illustrate.

At the beginning of the race you are literally fenced in with thousands of other runners. You’re a little bit cold, nervous, and you have no idea how you are going to react for the next 26.2 miles. Then the race begins, and you step across the starting line. You start out a little fast, trying to reign yourself in so you don’t run out of steam in the end. The first few miles, you feel like you have nothing but road ahead of you. Your legs are fresh, but mentally you try not to think about how far you have to go. Miles 14-20 are always the hardest for me. That stretch is slow, and mentally painful. Once you hit 20, the end is in sight, and you think..."I can always run 6 miles…6 miles is no problem". The miles start ticking by faster and faster…21…23…25…26…26.2. BAM. The deed is done. What is remarkable are the feelings you experience during those 26.2 miles. In just four little hours you feel like crying, rejoicing, and everything in-between. You experience remarkable doubt and remarkable confidence. Time runs slow, and time runs fast. Just like life.

So there’s my little jumble of thoughts. That don’t really relate…but that’s how I roll. The rest of the trip involved lots of good food, shopping, walking (well dragging ourselves) around the very pretty city, and having a real good time with my family on public transportation. The best part of the trip was obviously Mama Car Car. I feel real lucky every single day that my mother is also my absolute best friend. She's left big shoes for me to fill, and I admire her more than anyone in my life. I also love running marathons with her, and the fact that we run out of things to talk about on our long runs because we talk too much every day anyway. So here’s a little s/o to my mama: Thanks for everything Mom. You kind of rock. Love, your twin daughter.

 "DAD DON'T TAKE A PICTURE YET"...face.

 Blue Gatorade for the WIN.

conference and cabins.

Fall has…well...fallen upon us, quite literally my friends. And I feel extremely good about it. This weekend, despite (or thanks to?) my impressive acts of study evasion, was phenomenal. I had the opportunity to attend both sessions of Saturday conference with Sarah and her family. We were magically close to the pulpit, and the speakers were kind of mind blowing (as usual). Sunday was spent up at the cabin. Joshua joined the Rasmussen family again. We ate carbs alllll dayyyy, went on four wheeler rides (when we spotted a mom moose and her two babies), and listened to the prophets speak some more. What more could one ask for? So two things, 1) I love fall and 2) I love this Church.