freedom

One night in Rexburg, one night in Utah and then I'll be spending my nights in the heart of New England, in the comfort of my bed, with the wood stove's heat wafting down the hall. Everything about home is calling to me and I can't wait to be back there.

onerepublic

Angel of Mercy 

How did you find me? 

How did you pick me up again? 

Angel of Mercy 

How did you move me? 

Why am I on my feet again? 

And I see you 

focus in

The next three weeks of my life are going to be insanely busy and a tad bit overwhelming. I have no time for distractions; I just need to focus in on getting through finals, doing my best and trusting myself, my best friend and my Heavenly Father.

It will all work out. It will always work out.

On that 10 page History Paper

Replacing passive verbs is probably the most challenging thing I've ever had to do as an English major.
YOU try writing 10 pages about the Great Depression without using the words "was, were, had, could, would, is"

Oh finals week, you kill me every time.

Christmas Time is Here

Stumbled across this today

and I couldn't believe my eyes as I watched us over two years ago. So much laughter. He makes me laugh so hard. And I don't care if I'm getting all sappy and gross; I don't care if no one watches this and I don't care what anyone thinks. He makes me a better person and I can't wait for moments like this to happen again.

I'm going to be an obnoxious girl and count down the days to his return. But it's been two years and I reserve the right to be a little excited.

here is the things about finals

you are already so burnt out from the semester that actually doing "your best work" is pretty much impossible.

That's all.

On Asians

"She did her math in pen...and she didn't scratch it out...ever."

I asked for a sign

Ridiculous, I know. But I just needed one.

And in a last minute decision to check the mail, Janna pulls a giant package out of our mail bin. And his handwriting is scrawled across the top. And as I tear open the box, I pull out a pile of his things. T-shirts, jeans, shorts, belts, books. It's him. His things for me to hold onto until he comes back, to me.

He's really coming home, people. He's really coming back to me.

to the southgate managers

i like apartment managers who, when I tell them all about our story, spend ten minutes moving everyone else's rooming assignments around so that they can put him in my ward boundaries and then say: "We want a wedding invitation."

I'm not putting all of my eggs in one basket, but gosh, it is so nice to meet people who instantaneously believe that we will make it; and who are cheering for us.

Such great heights, love. They will see us waving from such great heights.