tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-28639407557121104482024-03-12T16:09:37.826-07:00Allegorically SpeakingMichelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.comBlogger115125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-90115142384647995942016-07-02T01:01:00.000-07:002016-07-02T01:01:01.319-07:00My Website has moved!Thanks so much for stopping by!<br />
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MichelleMichelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-75937884595787706472016-05-24T21:32:00.002-07:002016-05-24T21:32:46.028-07:00Collecting the Pieces<div style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129; font-family: helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 19.32px; margin-bottom: 6px;">
Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by all the responsibilities in my life. I begin to feel stretched, you know? Like I can't do all that I need to do the way I need to do it. Feelings of inadequacy and failure creep in.</div>
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Then I remind myself that it's not my life to begin with. It's God's. He's put these opportunities in front of me. He will guide me through them.</div>
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I've always known that, but sometimes I forget to rely on Him as much. I put pressure on myself to do my part and His.</div>
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Nights like this are a blessing, when I collect the pieces of myself and come back to Him and say, "Here am I. Lead me. Guide me. Walk beside me. Work with me and through me. Let's do this life thing together."</div>
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It takes the pressure off of having to be it all and do it all. That's not my job. He is All. I just have to be the best me--the me that listens and relies on Him everyday. And everything will be as it should.</div>
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Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-59426513551090956472016-02-18T23:59:00.003-08:002016-02-18T23:59:54.738-08:00Change, Freedom, and Forgiveness Still<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: "georgia" , "utopia" , "palatino linotype" , "palatino" , serif; font-size: 14.3px; line-height: 20.02px; text-align: justify;">Recently someone close to me was unkind, admittedly stuck in the view of the past, unable to see past their own perception of me which had originated years ago. This view disqualified, in their eyes, any good that I have tried to do, as they were decidedly set on my perceived (inaccurate) intentions. It made me sad, and</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: georgia, utopia, 'palatino linotype', palatino, serif; font-size: 14.3px; line-height: 20.02px; text-align: justify;"> brought my mind back to these thoughts I posted a year ago today.</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: georgia, utopia, 'palatino linotype', palatino, serif; font-size: 14.3px; line-height: 20.02px; text-align: justify;"> They are as true today as they were a year ago. Perhaps, in the light of these recent events, even more so to me.</span></div>
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<i>(This post was hard to write. Yes it's long, and very personal, but the message is close to my heart and too important to share. I hope you bear with me and read on.)</i></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">People change. I have changed.</span></div>
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None of us are the same as we were yesterday, five years ago, twenty years ago. Every day we change. Sometimes it is imperceptible, other times the change is drastic. But we all change. That will never change.</div>
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When I was in my late teens early twenties in many ways I was different than I am now. I was still fun-loving and outgoing, but different. I made different mistakes. Many of my choices were driven by insecurity, immaturity, and selfishness. Perhaps that is pretty typical of one that age. My intents were good for the most part, but there were times when I said or did things then that I would never do now. There are things I wish I could take back. I wasn't a terrible person, by any means, just different. I've grown a lot. I've repented. I've learned. I've changed.</div>
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In my first book, "<a href="http://www.michellewilsonatlarge.com/p/dtimmlf.html">Does This Insecurity Make Me Look Fat?</a>" I am quite open about some of my struggles of those years and their ramifications. It was a scary book to write. I still have struggles today, which I am equally as open about. That was even scarier to write. But I am able to be honest about all of my struggles due to the very fact that I <i>have</i> changed. I was and am imperfect, but I know Who makes me perfect. I have been forgiven. I have been changed. I know who I am now, and I like me very much.<br />
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I am who I am because of my Savior. Through Him I've had the opportunity to change. My Father in Heaven has forgiven me, the Spirit has touched me, and I have changed. That's the beautiful thing about Their perfect forgiveness--I learn, I grow, I change, and when I honestly repent, They remember my sins no more. They forgive and move on. They don't hold my past mistakes over my head. They see me as I am now, love who I am now, and glory in who They know I can be. When I seek forgiveness, I am free to be me <i>now</i>, and not be held hostage by who I was or what I've done before. Their forgiveness frees me now and allows me the chance to keep on changing for good. It is such an empowering and liberating principal!</div>
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Most of us want that deep inside: to be forgiven, to be seen for who we really are and who we can become. Heavenly Father is always ready and willing to offer His forgiveness. The Savior, through His Atonement, has already paid the price for our mistakes. They are just waiting for us.</div>
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If only we understood what power forgiveness really holds! Their forgiveness frees us, and yet, do we offer our forgiveness so freely to others? Can we see past who they were to who they are today? Do we withhold forgiveness because we don't feel they deserve it? Can we forgive to free ourselves of grudges or pain, even if the other person isn't sorry? Can we let go of our misgivings and allow those that have hurt us to be forgiven, to move on, to learn, and to change?</div>
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Sometimes it takes great courage to forgive people, to let people change, to see them for who they are now rather than who they were before. But, we should try. First of all, it's pretty much a commandment (<a href="https://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/matt/18.22">Matthew 18:22</a>) but also because it frees not only them, but it frees us.</div>
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Let me share two very different, very personal, examples of what I mean. </div>
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A few weeks after my book came out I received a call from an old friend of more than twenty years. We used to be very close, and I felt we still were. She was the kind of friend who, though we spoke every few years, I had felt a sisterhood connection with and a love that time hadn't diminished.</div>
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When I saw her name flash on the caller ID I excitedly picked up the phone and greeted her. This was her response: "I am fine thank you. I am reading your book and I am not enjoying it at all." Then she proceeded to tell me I was a terrible person. She said I needed counseling, that I was messed up. She told me that there was no way <i>I</i> could write something like this when after what I had done to her. How could I, in good conscience, write a book about loving God, yourself, and others?</div>
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I was dumbfounded. We had emailed back and for just a couple months prior and ne'er a word was said about any issues or events. So, I inquired as to what I could have done to cause her such anger and grief.</div>
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There were three things: First, I had said something years ago that wasn't very positive about her to her husband, a then mutual friend, when they had first begun dating. Second, she was upset that she hadn't receive an invitation to my wedding twenty years ago. And third, she was upset that in 2010 she called to tell me she was pregnant. We were about to have family prayer, so I asked if I could call her back and I never did.</div>
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Still shocked, I tried to explain myself, firstly, about what I had said years ago. Whether or not it was true, and though my intentions were good at the time I had said it, it was something that should not have been said. I reminded her that this was something we had talked about at length in the past, something I had apologized for twenty years ago, and something she had forgiven me for twenty years ago. Still, I apologized again. I then apologized for her not getting an invitation. My mother had made the list and sent them out. I didn't play a part in that, nor did I pay attention to who was on the list. I simply didn't know she hadn't received one. As for the last one--I didn't ever remember that call. I am sure she did call, I'm sure I was happy for her, I'm sure I told her I'd call her back, and I'm sure I forgot. I'm also sure there was no ill intent. </div>
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My explanations and apologies meant nothing. She was still mad, and had her mind set that I was simply a terrible person. She told her I had tried to ruin her marriage by my comment years ago (which was not true). She also told me she was sure I didn't call her back because I was jealous that she was pregnant again, and I couldn't have any children (I'd had a medically-necessary hysterectomy in 2001.). She said I had always been jealous of her, that I wanted to have her life and to be her, and that's why I didn't call. That last one particularly hurt, and proved that she really didn't know me very well now, or twenty years ago.</div>
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What she didn't know was that call came during the time we had just adopted our youngest child. The night-time routine then was long and hard. The transition was difficult for our daughter and for me. I spent many nights crying, wondering if I had the strength to be the kind of mother I needed to be to parent this beautiful, broken child. I wasn't jealous of my friend. I would have been happy for her. I was just struggling, exhausted, and focused on my own family at that time.</div>
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But she didn't want to hear that. She did want to hear about my twenty year old apology and her then-forgiveness, or that I had no idea she didn't receive an invitation twenty years ago, or that five years ago I was just keeping my head above water as I was trying to know how to parent my little girl. All she could see was who <i>she thought</i> I was in the past, and was convinced I was the same, that I hadn't changed. </div>
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I spoke softly and calmly while my heart ached. She said she could never be friends with someone who could have done those things to her. She said I was a terrible person who didn't even know who she was now. I posed the idea that perhaps she didn't know me as well as she though she did now, either. I suggested we start anew, that the 'her-now' and the 'me-now' become friends. I told her that I loved her, and I didn't want to lose the friendship I had always valued. She said, "Your cute words sound nice but they don't mean anything, just like the nice words in your book. No thank you. I don't want a person like you in my life. You're toxic. I am going to finish your book however, even though I am not going to enjoy it." I told her I was sorry that she was not open to our friendship. She said she was even going to unfriend me on Facebook, so I shouldn't be surprised. Then she hung up.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkklH-1jmijDBJmEvLrMONkxBIumS3qm-K4dKYeGkLe7Q5RBtY8kKuAb2eYpy7Az846FeYiE-Il2E2ZzGts0SPPTFD8eimy0alQO-yadl_XjAKzZp_Lgg5uHFlVuqyBnxBtQrzuAV04Kv3/s1600/blogger-image--1012344339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkklH-1jmijDBJmEvLrMONkxBIumS3qm-K4dKYeGkLe7Q5RBtY8kKuAb2eYpy7Az846FeYiE-Il2E2ZzGts0SPPTFD8eimy0alQO-yadl_XjAKzZp_Lgg5uHFlVuqyBnxBtQrzuAV04Kv3/s1600/blogger-image--1012344339.jpg" width="200" /></a>It was a call I had no idea was coming. For years she had harbored these feelings. They had festered, tainting her ability to know me now. She was stuck in the past, and in a reality she had created herself. She was held hostage by her unwillingness to understand, to forgive, and let go. She was unwilling to believe I could change and grow after twenty years, and felt that I was undeserving of forgiveness. </div>
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She is wrong. </div>
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Still, I was shocked and hurt. No, I was devastated. What brought me more sorrow was the fact that she was in more pain than I. She couldn't leave behind her negative feelings, and they festered until she was filled with bitterness and anger. She was in her own prison, and that made me so sad.</div>
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Contrast that with this next experience with two other people in my life, a friend and a roommate.<br />
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I had made a mistake once and was confronted by a friend in front of other people about it. Feeling ashamed, insecure, and embarrassed, I denied it. Not only did I lie, but I led her to believe that it wasn't me who had done it, that it might have been my roommate. I know, awful, right? That's exactly how I felt at the time. Insecure and awful. After the conversation nothing was ever said about it again by anyone. It just kind of melted away. We went about our lives and, as what happens to many over time, we fell out of touch.</div>
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I know it wasn't the right thing to do. I knew then. Though I never talked about it, it was still there, a heavy spot on my heart. So, years ago I spoke with the person I lied to and sought their forgiveness. They were so good and understanding and kind, They forgave me, understood me, and let it go. I felt so grateful, so good. They told me I need to apologize to my old roommate. I told them I would. Then, as it happens, we lost touch again, and the promise faded into the background of my busy life.</div>
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One day, years later, my old roommate popped up in my Facebook news feed when a mutual FB friend commented on a post of hers. Like a rush of heat I remembered my promise. I knew I needed to apologize still, even after all this time. I was surprised and embarrassed I had forgotten the promise, and knew what I had to do. It took a few days to muster up the courage, but late one Sunday afternoon I reached out to her. </div>
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I was so nervous. What if she was still upset? What if she hated me? What if she couldn't forgive me?</div>
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After our initial long-time-no-talk pleasantries, I dove into my apology. I told her what happened that day, how I apologized to our friend, and how sorry I was that I purposefully redirected possible blame her way so long ago. Then came silence....followed by laughter from her end; not unkind heckles, but a soft chuckle. She was never aware of what I had done. But that wasn't what made her laugh. She laughed because I still cared enough to apologize after all these years. Not that she thought it was funny, but she couldn't believe how sweet it was that I had still cared enough about it, about her, to apologize now. </div>
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In a loving tone she forgave me, even though she said there was no need for forgiveness. That was a long time ago. We are both different people now. We had both changed. And nothing else needed to be remembered or spoken of again.</div>
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We talked for another hour about our lives now, our families, our accomplishments, our testimonies, and our interests. She told me multiple times how it was such a joyful surprise that we had connected again and I agreed. At the end of the call I expressed my gratitude for her understanding, forgiveness, and love. She laughed again and said, "I don't even know what you're talking about. You are wonderful, Michelle."</div>
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Do you see the difference? Both incidents were of friends that I had offended long ago. One wasn't willing to see that I had changed. She was unwilling to forgive and see me for who I am now. She was weighed down by anger and pain.</div>
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The other freely offered forgiveness and let go. She rejoiced in the fact that I had changed, that we both had changed, and that brought us closer together again. </div>
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One was held hostage. The other offered freedom.</div>
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I know, it can be hard to let people change, to forgive. It's hard to acknowledge that someone who hurt you in the past could change and grow. Sometimes it takes a lot of courage to let the past stay in the past, and to live in the now. I know it does.</div>
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I had a friend who hurt me a long time ago in a way that could be easily considered unforgivable. I have heard through a mutual friend that he is a loving father and husband now, active in his church, and is happy. He has changed. I could be mad, feel that he doesn't deserve happiness, that he was and always will be a terrible person. But that simply isn't true. I am so glad he has changed. I am grateful he has learned and grown. I am free of ill feelings towards him, and, through the power of my Savior's atonement and a lot of prayer, I see that he is a good man now and I am happy for him. He has changed, but I am free.</div>
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When I say we 'let' people change, what I really mean is that we acknowledge they can and have changed; we 'let' ourselves see them as changed. It's hard to do when we want to hold onto our grudges, when the pain they cause runs deep. But, forgiveness isn't ours to keep to ourselves. The moment we ask God for forgiveness we give up the right (if it ever was one) to keep forgiveness to ourselves. When we ask God to help us learn and grow and change, we acknowledge that that is a gift He gives to all His children who sincerely seeks Him. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7GSGIkmWt_KA0_xIBB-IpP1fNCfokBzNdRF7sdJiBiXbqmJGWCFAQ4kaMPKkjJpQy9taxM-kNbAgusGsZZb2Hcv32yuoGcZvUzxDDWN9rerppvTzF4aw8wEq2RAofydoJ5HMN9phyphenhyphenYlc/s1600/forgiveness-freedom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7GSGIkmWt_KA0_xIBB-IpP1fNCfokBzNdRF7sdJiBiXbqmJGWCFAQ4kaMPKkjJpQy9taxM-kNbAgusGsZZb2Hcv32yuoGcZvUzxDDWN9rerppvTzF4aw8wEq2RAofydoJ5HMN9phyphenhyphenYlc/s1600/forgiveness-freedom.jpg" width="200" /></a><i>Every single one of us have said or done something in our lives that we are not proud of, something we would take back if we could. </i>Most of us are trying to become better people each day, to improve, learn, grow--to change. If only we could see each other as we really are now, untainted by our past mistakes, what would we see? Who would we see? How would we feel?</div>
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Yes, it's hard to let go of our perception of who people used to be, but when we do we free ourselves, and them, to love who they are now and to keep changing (hopefully) for good. It takes courage in some cases, but it is worth it. I am heartbroken by my good friend that refused to believe I could change. I am filled with relief and joy by my sweet friend who offered forgiveness and love for who I am today.</div>
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People change. I have changed. And I will strive to continue to change the rest of my life, for that is why I am here--to become better, to become more like my Savior. I know what it feels like when forgiveness is withheld. I know what it feels like to withhold it. It is painful. I also know what it feels like to be forgiven and to forgive. It is liberating. And that, I think, is something that will never change.</div>
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As I was about to publish this post, a thought occurred to me. I've talked about letting others change, accepting who they are now and letting go of the past, but what of ourselves? I'll admit, when I remembered what I had done to my roommate so long ago I felt terrible. How could I have forgotten to reach out and apologize to her? Thoughts began to creep into my mind and the adversary, seeing a crack in my armor, fueled the flames of self-doubt. Questions about my integrity and worthiness whirled in my head, but only for a brief moment. I shared my concern with my good husband, who said, "Michelle, you made a mistake a long time ago. That doesn't mean you were a bad person then, and you are not a bad person now. Go and apologize. Let it out and let it go. Then be the person you know you are now." He was right. For a brief moment I let the past taint my own view of who I am today. Seeking forgiveness and letting go helped me to, once again, accept that I have changed for the better, and fed my desire to continue to do so.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj01f18dDpTB4SGl-L_t1aMgzGuN_P_zEhO8nIOi7neIdY9QYrT0yryMAEiHecSBNnSl6GnzGkwC6LhbZRK-5OmoaP9XrP_J28aQ0iB_kq5Lo6vjuKYaaMyYbWyV2oWMvV-2kWMsoQRuTik/s1600/eec3cc3630955ca439d26c01d7a027be.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj01f18dDpTB4SGl-L_t1aMgzGuN_P_zEhO8nIOi7neIdY9QYrT0yryMAEiHecSBNnSl6GnzGkwC6LhbZRK-5OmoaP9XrP_J28aQ0iB_kq5Lo6vjuKYaaMyYbWyV2oWMvV-2kWMsoQRuTik/s1600/eec3cc3630955ca439d26c01d7a027be.jpg" width="228" /></a></div>
I love the quote by Donald L. Hallstrom, "Who we are is not who we can become." We are meant to change, to progress, to improve. We are meant to be more than we are now. That doesn't mean we aren't good enough now. It's not a matter of being good or worthy of being loved. It's a matter of becoming like our Savior. Regardless of mistakes past and present, we have infinite value and worth. But, through Jesus Christ we have the privilege to progress. He gave His all--literally--so we could. Let's not get in His way, in other's way, in our way, of change.</div>
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Sometimes it takes even greater courage to see ourselves and others for who we are now, not a collection of mistakes we've all made in the past (because we have <i>all</i> made mistakes). It can be hard to forgive ourselves and others, to love ourselves and others. But, we must try. We need to try so we can be free. Free to love ourselves fully, free to forgive others--free to be all that we can be. Free to change. Free to forgive and be forgiven. Free to be free.</div>
Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-29044914579546718032016-01-03T11:30:00.001-08:002016-01-03T11:30:16.675-08:00Just One Question<h3 class="post-title entry-title" itemprop="name" style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Josefin Sans'; font-size: 28px; font-stretch: normal; margin: 0.75em 0px 0px; position: relative;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14.3px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.4;">This is a repost from 2011. Partly because I love it, but also because, in the exercise of reviewing the past year and looking forward to the New Year, I would still ask just this one question.</span></h3>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; font-size: 14.3px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.4;">A few years ago my job at church was to teach a class of 5 and 6-year-olds each Sunday. They would say the cutest things. One Sunday the lesson was about staying pure and making good choices. There was a point in the lesson where we talked about Jesus and what He would do in certain situations.</span></h3>
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Then I asked them a question: If they could meet Jesus face to face today, what would they ask Him?</div>
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I loved the questions they came up with.</div>
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"I would ask Him how He got here."</div>
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"I would ask Him out He made the earth."</div>
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"I would ask Him how He made the scriptures."</div>
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"I would ask Him what He likes."</div>
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"I would ask Him how I can help Him."</div>
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I asked myself the question, too. If my Savior came to my home today, sat on my couch and said I could ask Him anything- what would I ask? </div>
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What would you ask Him?</div>
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Honestly, I would probably want to ask Him all the questions the kids shared today, and then some. Then I would thank Him for all He has done and will do for me. </div>
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<br />But, what if I could only ask <b>one </b>question? Out of all the questions in my mind and heart, what one question would I want answered more than anything. A<span style="font-size: 14.3px; line-height: 1.4;">fter much thought, I finally picked on out. </span></div>
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<br />If my Savior came to me and I could ask Him one question, it would be this: <i>May I hug you</i>?</div>
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I know it sounds strange. I mean, here is Deity that knows everything, that is everything, that could tell me anything, and I ask for a hug. Why?</div>
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I'll tell you why. I already have a knowledge of the gospel and Plan of Salvation, I already know where I came from and where I am going. I already know about His life. True- there are millions of missing details, but I already know everything I need to get me back to my Heavenly Father without ever seeing my Savior facet to face. (Blessings of being a member of His church.)</div>
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But, what I have longed for (rightly or not) when I pray is to <i>feel </i>more: to feel Him more, to be comforted by Him more. I have even been known to plead in prayer for eternal arms to hold me tight and bring me peace. </div>
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So, even though I would love to know exactly how the Atonement works and what that was like for Him, I already know that the Atonement is for me, and that it works in my life. </div>
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And even though I would want to know how He performed healing miracles, I already know that He has healed my heart and my body more than I can count.</div>
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Even though there is so much I want to know, there is one thing I want that can't be learned, taught or told: I want to know what it is like to be held in the arms of the One that loves me purely, has sacrificed all, and wants my happiness more than any other (aside our Heavenly Father.)</div>
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So, that's my one question. </div>
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I'm curious, what would your one question be? </div>
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Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-22783779263815006492015-10-29T21:25:00.001-07:002015-10-29T21:31:24.800-07:00Character and Personality--It's not about fitting in.<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">A few years ago I found out a good friend of mine
wasn’t attending the Relief Society class (the class for women taught by women)
at church. When I asked her why, she replied, “I feel uncomfortable.” Upon
further prodding she opened up and said, “I don’t fit in. I’m not like them. I <i>can’t</i> be like them. That’s just not me.” </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">I watched this amazing woman ostracize herself from a group of wonderful
sisters because she held onto the notion that you must abandon any sense of
individuality in order to fit in or fit ‘the mold.’ What a deflating and
damaging misconception! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">In my years of service in the Church I’ve worked
with women and young women of all ages who are all striving to be more like
Jesus Christ. Some have it in their minds that going to church requires you to
conform to a certain personality type, to embrace hobbies that don’t come
naturally to you, and to ultimately sacrifice any sense of uniqueness, as if
sharing the same faith means sharing the same personality. They think of
conforming as the death of who they really are, and that it is simply not true.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Yes, God does want us to change, even conform, but I
don’t believe He wants us to conform our personality to the style and likings
of the people around us. He wants us “to be conformed to the image of his Son”
(Romans 8:29). That means that we are to become like Jesus Christ. In His own
words, He said, “Therefore, I would that ye should be perfect even as I, or
your Father who is in heaven is perfect” (3 Nephi 12:48). We are to conform to
perfection. But what does it look like? Does it include highlighted hair, a size
6 dress, a spotless house, and a love of canning seasonal fruit? Thankfully, no. Not that these things are bad, but if perfection rested upon them, I’d be in
big trouble!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Perfection isn’t a personality issue, but one of our
<i>character</i>. There is a subtle, yet
very distinct difference between the two. Your personality is made up of your
behavioral patterns habits, temperament, and emotions. You may have the
personality of an extrovert, an optimist, a jokster, serious, lazy,
hard-working, etc. Personality traits are easy to see because we are always
showing them in all that we do. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Character goes deeper and is not always easy to see
because it is often times revealed in specific circumstances. Your character is
based on your beliefs and can include things like honesty, virtue, kindness,
and selflessness. Have you ever had someone you thought was one way (based on
their personality) who, when put into a difficult circumstance, reacted totally
different? You may have heard someone say, “Well, that’s their true colors
coming through.” Our character is our ‘true colors.’ It’s the stable, constant,
undercurrent of beliefs and the condition of our heart that lie under the
ripples of our personality. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">When we are asked to conform to the image of the
Son, I don’t believe we are meant to abandon all the good and fun stuff that
makes us us! We don’t have to change our personalities to match everyone else
in the room. What a tragedy that would be! No, I believe we are to look at the
things that lie deeper in our hearts, embedded in our character, that might not
be congruent with the character of the Savior—things like pride, greed,
selfishness, and anger. Those are the things we are asked to change and <i>can
</i>change through the miracle of repentance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Does this mean you don’t have to change your
personality at all? Not quite. Just as there are negative character traits, personality
traits like being bossy, impatience, aggressiveness, critical, secretive, or
rude are all pretty bad. These negative personality traits can be hurtful to
others, and can and should be recognized and addressed. You might find,
however, that the more you focus on conforming your character to be like the
Savior’s, these negative personality traits naturally will begin to disappear. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">We don't have to become like
everyone else, we simply need to become our‘best’ self. That happens as our character is refined through repentance and
our personality is polished; the harmful stuff is washed away and all the
wonderful stuff is left. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">Paul of the New Testament is one of the most
powerful examples of personality and character. Before Paul was converted, his
name was Saul. Saul had a strong personality. He was dedicated, tenacious, and
brave. There was one major problem: Saul hated Christians. He hunted them down,
putting as many into prison as he could. On his way to Damascus to persecute
more believers, a light encircled him and he fell to the ground. The
resurrected Christ appeared to Saul and told him to go into the city. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">In the meantime, the Lord appeared to man named
Ananias in a vision and told him to find Saul. Saul’s reputation had preceded
him, and caused Ananias concern, and perhaps even fear. The Lord answered, “Go
thy way, for he is a chosen vessel unto me” (Acts 9:15). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">How could Saul be a chosen vessel when he was
persecuting the Lord’s own followers? The Lord knew <i>who</i> Saul was and what he would do when his beliefs and character
conformed to the Savior’s. He was baptized by Ananias, and immediately set out
to learn all he could about the gospel (part of that tenacious personality.) He
changed his name to Paul as embarked on a life-long mission to right his wrongs
preach the gospel to anyone who would listen. He was nearly stoned to death,
shipwrecked, bitten by a snake, and imprisoned, and in all of it he praised God
and gloried in his tribulation. That was his personality!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;">That is amazing and so very comforting to me that
Heavenly Father sees who we are and what we can do. It reminds me of what I
tell my kids, “Use your powers for good.” It is often half-jokingly, but always
true!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormalCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 200%; text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman","serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="line-height: 200%;">It's not about fitting in. You belong. You have a place.</span></span><span style="line-height: 200%;">You are wanted. You are needed. So, build your character and e</span><span style="line-height: 200%;">mbrace your personality.Conform yourself
to the character of Jesus Christ and be YOU!</span></div>
Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-15797992053962594812015-06-03T20:15:00.001-07:002015-06-03T20:17:18.757-07:00Repentance isn't about tearing yourself down<img src="https://scontent-sea1-1.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-xft1/v/t1.0-9/11393254_437495173087100_397189273357618456_n.jpg?oh=8b9d70d152282670d5330b6e24f7f624&oe=560CA7B2" /><br />
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My daughter texted me the other day, upset. She slept in, was late for school, and missed a class. Then she got a poor grade on a test she should have aced. Here's a part of our text conversation:<br />
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DAUGHTER: <i>"I would've done better if I wasn't such a moron. I didn't set the alarm and missed my class. Now I've disappointed you and dad, and missed the chance to review the stuff from the test in class and did stinking poorly.</i>"<br />
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Now, I'm really good at negative self-talk. I try to avoid it when all possible, but it's a skill I have in my arsenal. Apparently my daughter does, too. Emotional genetics, I suppose. But I don't like my daughter talking bad about or to herself. Hence my response:<br />
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ME: "<i>No negative self talk. Repentance isn't about tearing yourself down. It's about lifting yourself up. Take this learning opportunity and use it to be just a little bit better. Then move forward with joy."</i><br />
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I often have no idea what to say to my teenage daughter. I also often say the wrong things. But that, right there, was the right thing at the right time. I know it's right, because after I sent it to her I reread it, and the truth of what I wrote settle into the nooks of my heart. I realized that it applied not just to her, but to me as well. To all of us.<br />
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We all make mistakes. We all screw up. We can't help it. Sure, we can help how much, but no matter how hard we try, we will not be perfect. We take the stick of false expectations and beat ourselves up, and even condemn ourselves, for making mistakes. Many of our mistakes are avoidable, yes. And some are just stupid. But, as in all mistakes, that's when repentance comes in.<br />
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I don't believe repentance is supposed to be a process of tearing ourselves apart. It really is about lifting ourselves up. Jesus Christ already suffered for us. Of course we must feel Godly sorrow for our sins. Godly sorrow brings about a broken heart and contrite Spirit. (Psalms 34:18). But, self-defacing, unforgiving, and sometimes damning attitudes we take towards ourselves do not belong in real repentance.<br />
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Repentance is about recognizing what God wants for us, understanding our responsibility to improve, and the mercy and blessing it is to have a Savior who has already paid the price of our sins. Are these not things to rejoice in?<br />
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Of course we're gonna mess things up. That's what we do. We trip and fall. We make bad choices. But, when our eyes are focused (as well as they can) on doing His will, we might fall but we will never fail. Repentance, through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, can lift us up again.<br />
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Repentance isn't a rehashing of our shortcomings and imperfections. It's the acknowledgment of the perfect mercy of our Savior.<br />
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Repentance isn't an exercise of self-abuse. It's the gift of self-forgiveness.<br />
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Repentance isn't prison, It's freedom. It's not hateful. It's loving. It's not selfish. It's selfless. It's not punishment. It's a gift.<br />
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So, when you mess up, and you totally will, remember this: Repentance isn't about tearing yourself down. It's about lifting yourself up. Learn from your mistakes. Be just a little better next time. And move forward with joy.Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-77979075816095902712015-04-09T09:28:00.001-07:002015-04-09T09:35:43.931-07:00Opinion Does Not Change Truth<div style="text-align: justify;">
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You may have seen the picture that took the internet by storm a few weeks ago:</div>
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There is this dress, one dress, people cannot agree on. What color is it?? White and gold? Blue and black? For a brief moment in the cyberworld, everyone had an opinion and no one could agree. Two people sitting next to each other could look at the same picture and see different colors. How could that be? How could people looking at the same thing have two opposing opinions? </div>
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I wanted to know, too. And I found <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2015/02/28/science/white-or-blue-dress.html?_r=0">this really smart answer</a>:</div>
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"Our eyes are able to assign fixed colors to objects under widely different lighting condition. This ability is called color constancy. But the photograph doesn't give many clues about the the ambient light in the room. Is the background bright and the dress in shadow? Or is the whole room bright and all the colors are washed out? Different people may pick up on different visual cues in the image, which can change how (their minds) interpret and name the colors."</div>
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So, we can all be looking at the same thing, but as we interpret the surroundings, it can change the way we see it. That's how so many of us had so many different opinions. Fascinating! But, our interpretation doesn't change the actual color of the dress. (For inquiring minds, the dress was actually blue and black) Our opinions can't change truth.</div>
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I want to switch gears for a moment and talk about God. We live in a world with as many opinions as people: He exists. He doesn't exist. There is no God. His is force and power. He is in everything. He is no where. He is angry and vengeful. He is kind and loving. </div>
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But, just as our differing interpretations and opinions of the color of the dress had no effect on the actual dress, our opinions cannot change reality-- the truth.</div>
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God lives. That's not an opinion. That is truth. THE truth. God does not change. He "is the same yesterday, today, and forever, and in him there is no variableness, nether shadow of changing" <span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="https://www.lds.org/scriptures/bofm/morm/9.9?lang=eng">(Mormon 9:9).</a></span></div>
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We can fight over principles and principalities, but our opinions will never change the truth. </div>
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God is real. He is a loving Heavenly Father with a plan and a purpose for us.</div>
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He is the author of what is right and what is wrong. We can have our opinions of what should be acceptable, what we want to be able to choose and do without negative consequences, but our opinions don't change truth.</div>
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Just as we can't change the nature of a tree because we decide it's just a large bush, we can't change the nature to God because we decide our image of Him is right.</div>
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There are millions of opinons, but only one truth: God's. How much happier would we be if we put as much energy into finding His truth in all things as we do in trying to prove our opinons are right?</div>
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Opinions cannot and will not change truth. But truth can change opinions, and can change us.</div>
Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-28934773093652034572015-02-19T08:03:00.000-08:002015-02-19T09:31:00.481-08:00Change, Forgiveness, and Freedom - a Very Personal Post<div>
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<i>(This post was hard to write. Yes it's long, and very personal, but the message is close to my heart and too important to share. I hope you bear with me and read on.)</i></div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">People change. I have changed.</span></div>
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None of us are the same as we were yesterday, five years ago, twenty years ago. Every day we change. Sometimes it is imperceptible, other times the change is drastic. But we all change. That will never change.</div>
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When I was in my late teens early twenties in many ways I was different than I am now. I was still fun-loving and outgoing, but different. I made different mistakes. Many of my choices were driven by insecurity, immaturity, and selfishness. Perhaps that is pretty typical of one that age. My intents were good for the most part, but there were times when I said or did things then that I would never do now. There are things I wish I could take back. I wasn't a terrible person, by any means, just different. I've grown a lot. I've repented. I've learned. I've changed.</div>
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In my first book, "<a href="http://www.michellewilsonatlarge.com/p/dtimmlf.html">Does This Insecurity Make Me Look Fat?</a>" I am quite open about some of my struggles of those years and their ramifications. It was a scary book to write. I still have struggles today, which I am equally as open about. That was even scarier to write. But I am able to be honest about all of my struggles due to the very fact that I <i>have</i> changed. I was and am imperfect, but I know Who makes me perfect. I have been forgiven. I have been changed. I know who I am now, and I like me very much.<br />
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I am who I am because of my Savior. Through Him I've had the opportunity to change. My Father in Heaven has forgiven me, the Spirit has touched me, and I have changed. That's the beautiful thing about Their perfect forgiveness--I learn, I grow, I change, and when I honestly repent, They remember my sins no more. They forgive and move on. They don't hold my past mistakes over my head. They see me as I am now, love who I am now, and glory in who They know I can be. When I seek forgiveness, I am free to be me <i>now</i>, and not be held hostage by who I was or what I've done before. Their forgiveness frees me now and allows me the chance to keep on changing for good. It is such an empowering and liberating principal!</div>
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Most of us want that deep inside: to be forgiven, to be seen for who we really are and who we can become. Heavenly Father is always ready and willing to offer His forgiveness. The Savior, through His Atonement, has already paid the price for our mistakes. They are just waiting for us.</div>
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If only we understood what power forgiveness really holds! Their forgiveness frees us, and yet, do we offer our forgiveness so freely to others? Can we see past who they were to who they are today? Do we withhold forgiveness because we don't feel they deserve it? Can we forgive to free ourselves of grudges or pain, even if the other person isn't sorry? Can we let go of our misgivings and allow those that have hurt us to be forgiven, to move on, to learn, and to change?</div>
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Sometimes it takes great courage to forgive people, to let people change, to see them for who they are now rather than who they were before. But, we should try. First of all, it's pretty much a commandment (<a href="https://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/matt/18.22">Matthew 18:22</a>) but also because it frees not only them, but it frees us.</div>
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Let me share two very different, very personal, examples of what I mean. </div>
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A few weeks after my book came out I received a call from an old friend of more than twenty years. We used to be very close, and I felt we still were. She was the kind of friend who, though we spoke every few years, I had felt a sisterhood connection with and a love that time hadn't diminished.</div>
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When I saw her name flash on the caller ID I excitedly picked up the phone and greeted her. This was her response: "I am fine thank you. I am reading your book and I am not enjoying it at all." Then she proceeded to tell me I was a terrible person. She said I needed counseling, that I was messed up. She told me that there was no way <i>I</i> could write something like this when after what I had done to her. How could I, in good conscience, write a book about loving God, yourself, and others?</div>
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I was dumbfounded. We had emailed back and for just a couple months prior and ne'er a word was said about any issues or events. So, I inquired as to what I could have done to cause her such anger and grief.</div>
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There were three things: First, I had said something years ago that wasn't very positive about her to her husband, a then mutual friend, when they had first begun dating. Second, she was upset that she hadn't receive an invitation to my wedding twenty years ago. And third, she was upset that in 2010 she called to tell me she was pregnant. We were about to have family prayer, so I asked if I could call her back and I never did.</div>
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Still shocked, I tried to explain myself, firstly, about what I had said years ago. Whether or not it was true, and though my intentions were good at the time I had said it, it was something that should not have been said. I reminded her that this was something we had talked about at length in the past, something I had apologized for twenty years ago, and something she had forgiven me for twenty years ago. Still, I apologized again. I then apologized for her not getting an invitation. My mother had made the list and sent them out. I didn't play a part in that, nor did I pay attention to who was on the list. I simply didn't know she hadn't received one. As for the last one--I didn't ever remember that call. I am sure she did call, I'm sure I was happy for her, I'm sure I told her I'd call her back, and I'm sure I forgot. I'm also sure there was no ill intent. </div>
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My explanations and apologies meant nothing. She was still mad, and had her mind set that I was simply a terrible person. She told her I had tried to ruin her marriage by my comment years ago (which was not true). She also told me she was sure I didn't call her back because I was jealous that she was pregnant again, and I couldn't have any children (I'd had a medically-necessary hysterectomy in 2001.). She said I had always been jealous of her, that I wanted to have her life and to be her, and that's why I didn't call. That last one particularly hurt, and proved that she really didn't know me very well now, or twenty years ago.</div>
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What she didn't know was that call came during the time we had just adopted our youngest child. The night-time routine then was long and hard. The transition was difficult for our daughter and for me. I spent many nights crying, wondering if I had the strength to be the kind of mother I needed to be to parent this beautiful, broken child. I wasn't jealous of my friend. I would have been happy for her. I was just struggling, exhausted, and focused on my own family at that time.</div>
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But she didn't want to hear that. She did want to hear about my twenty year old apology and her then-forgiveness, or that I had no idea she didn't receive an invitation twenty years ago, or that five years ago I was just keeping my head above water as I was trying to know how to parent my little girl. All she could see was who <i>she thought</i> I was in the past, and was convinced I was the same, that I hadn't changed. </div>
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I spoke softly and calmly while my heart ached. She said she could never be friends with someone who could have done those things to her. She said I was a terrible person who didn't even know who she was now. I posed the idea that perhaps she didn't know me as well as she though she did now, either. I suggested we start anew, that the 'her-now' and the 'me-now' become friends. I told her that I loved her, and I didn't want to lose the friendship I had always valued. She said, "Your cute words sound nice but they don't mean anything, just like the nice words in your book. No thank you. I don't want a person like you in my life. You're toxic. I am going to finish your book however, even though I am not going to enjoy it." I told her I was sorry that she was not open to our friendship. She said she was even going to unfriend me on Facebook, so I shouldn't be surprised. Then she hung up.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkklH-1jmijDBJmEvLrMONkxBIumS3qm-K4dKYeGkLe7Q5RBtY8kKuAb2eYpy7Az846FeYiE-Il2E2ZzGts0SPPTFD8eimy0alQO-yadl_XjAKzZp_Lgg5uHFlVuqyBnxBtQrzuAV04Kv3/s1600/blogger-image--1012344339.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkklH-1jmijDBJmEvLrMONkxBIumS3qm-K4dKYeGkLe7Q5RBtY8kKuAb2eYpy7Az846FeYiE-Il2E2ZzGts0SPPTFD8eimy0alQO-yadl_XjAKzZp_Lgg5uHFlVuqyBnxBtQrzuAV04Kv3/s1600/blogger-image--1012344339.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a>It was a call I had no idea was coming. For years she had harbored these feelings. They had festered, tainting her ability to know me now. She was stuck in the past, and in a reality she had created herself. She was held hostage by her unwillingness to understand, to forgive, and let go. She was unwilling to believe I could change and grow after twenty years, and felt that I was undeserving of forgiveness. </div>
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She is wrong. </div>
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Still, I was shocked and hurt. No, I was devastated. What brought me more sorrow was the fact that she was in more pain than I. She couldn't leave behind her negative feelings, and they festered until she was filled with bitterness and anger. She was in her own prison, and that made me so sad.</div>
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Contrast that with this next experience with two other people in my life, a friend and a roommate.<br />
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I had made a mistake once and was confronted by a friend in front of other people about it. Feeling ashamed, insecure, and embarrassed, I denied it. Not only did I lie, but I led her to believe that it wasn't me who had done it, that it might have been my roommate. I know, awful, right? That's exactly how I felt at the time. Insecure and awful. After the conversation nothing was ever said about it again by anyone. It just kind of melted away. We went about our lives and, as what happens to many over time, we fell out of touch.</div>
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I know it wasn't the right thing to do. I knew then. Though I never talked about it, it was still there, a heavy spot on my heart. So, years ago I spoke with the person I lied to and sought their forgiveness. They were so good and understanding and kind, They forgave me, understood me, and let it go. I felt so grateful, so good. They told me I need to apologize to my old roommate. I told them I would. Then, as it happens, we lost touch again, and the promise faded into the background of my busy life.</div>
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One day, years later, my old roommate popped up in my Facebook news feed when a mutual FB friend commented on a post of hers. Like a rush of heat I remembered my promise. I knew I needed to apologize still, even after all this time. I was surprised and embarrassed I had forgotten the promise, and knew what I had to do. It took a few days to muster up the courage, but late one Sunday afternoon I reached out to her. </div>
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I was so nervous. What if she was still upset? What if she hated me? What if she couldn't forgive me?</div>
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After our initial long-time-no-talk pleasantries, I dove into my apology. I told her what happened that day, how I apologized to our friend, and how sorry I was that I purposefully redirected possible blame her way so long ago. Then came silence....followed by laughter from her end; not unkind heckles, but a soft chuckle. She was never aware of what I had done. But that wasn't what made her laugh. She laughed because I still cared enough to apologize after all these years. Not that she thought it was funny, but she couldn't believe how sweet it was that I had still cared enough about it, about her, to apologize now. </div>
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In a loving tone she forgave me, even though she said there was no need for forgiveness. That was a long time ago. We are both different people now. We had both changed. And nothing else needed to be remembered or spoken of again.</div>
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We talked for another hour about our lives now, our families, our accomplishments, our testimonies, and our interests. She told me multiple times how it was such a joyful surprise that we had connected again and I agreed. At the end of the call I expressed my gratitude for her understanding, forgiveness, and love. She laughed again and said, "I don't even know what you're talking about. You are wonderful, Michelle."</div>
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Do you see the difference? Both incidents were of friends that I had offended long ago. One wasn't willing to see that I had changed. She was unwilling to forgive and see me for who I am now. She was weighed down by anger and pain.</div>
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The other freely offered forgiveness and let go. She rejoiced in the fact that I had changed, that we both had changed, and that brought us closer together again. </div>
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One was held hostage. The other offered freedom.</div>
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I know, it can be hard to let people change, to forgive. It's hard to acknowledge that someone who hurt you in the past could change and grow. Sometimes it takes a lot of courage to let the past stay in the past, and to live in the now. I know it does.</div>
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I had a friend who hurt me a long time ago in a way that could be easily considered unforgivable. I have heard through a mutual friend that he is a loving father and husband now, active in his church, and is happy. He has changed. I could be mad, feel that he doesn't deserve happiness, that he was and always will be a terrible person. But that simply isn't true. I am so glad he has changed. I am grateful he has learned and grown. I am free of ill feelings towards him, and, through the power of my Savior's atonement and a lot of prayer, I see that he is a good man now and I am happy for him. He has changed, but I am free.</div>
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When I say we 'let' people change, what I really mean is that we acknowledge they can and have changed; we 'let' ourselves see them as changed. It's hard to do when we want to hold onto our grudges, when the pain they cause runs deep. But, forgiveness isn't ours to keep to ourselves. The moment we ask God for forgiveness we give up the right (if it ever was one) to keep forgiveness to ourselves. When we ask God to help us learn and grow and change, we acknowledge that that is a gift He gives to all His children who sincerely seeks Him. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7GSGIkmWt_KA0_xIBB-IpP1fNCfokBzNdRF7sdJiBiXbqmJGWCFAQ4kaMPKkjJpQy9taxM-kNbAgusGsZZb2Hcv32yuoGcZvUzxDDWN9rerppvTzF4aw8wEq2RAofydoJ5HMN9phyphenhyphenYlc/s1600/forgiveness-freedom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgU7GSGIkmWt_KA0_xIBB-IpP1fNCfokBzNdRF7sdJiBiXbqmJGWCFAQ4kaMPKkjJpQy9taxM-kNbAgusGsZZb2Hcv32yuoGcZvUzxDDWN9rerppvTzF4aw8wEq2RAofydoJ5HMN9phyphenhyphenYlc/s1600/forgiveness-freedom.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a><i>Every single one of us have said or done something in our lives that we are not proud of, something we would take back if we could. </i>Most of us are trying to become better people each day, to improve, learn, grow--to change. If only we could see each other as we really are now, untainted by our past mistakes, what would we see? Who would we see? How would we feel?</div>
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Yes, it's hard to let go of our perception of who people used to be, but when we do we free ourselves, and them, to love who they are now and to keep changing (hopefully) for good. It takes courage in some cases, but it is worth it. I am heartbroken by my good friend that refused to believe I could change. I am filled with relief and joy by my sweet friend who offered forgiveness and love for who I am today.</div>
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People change. I have changed. And I will strive to continue to change the rest of my life, for that is why I am here--to become better, to become more like my Savior. I know what it feels like when forgiveness is withheld. I know what it feels like to withhold it. It is painful. I also know what it feels like to be forgiven and to forgive. It is liberating. And that, I think, is something that will never change.</div>
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As I was about to publish this post, a thought occurred to me. I've talked about letting others change, accepting who they are now and letting go of the past, but what of ourselves? I'll admit, when I remembered what I had done to my roommate so long ago I felt terrible. How could I have forgotten to reach out and apologize to her? Thoughts began to creep into my mind and the adversary, seeing a crack in my armor, fueled the flames of self-doubt. Questions about my integrity and worthiness whirled in my head, but only for a brief moment. I shared my concern with my good husband, who said, "Michelle, you made a mistake a long time ago. That doesn't mean you were a bad person then, and you are not a bad person now. Go and apologize. Let it out and let it go. Then be the person you know you are now." He was right. For a brief moment I let the past taint my own view of who I am today. Seeking forgiveness and letting go helped me to, once again, accept that I have changed for the better, and fed my desire to continue to do so.<br />
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I love the quote by Donald L. Hallstrom, "Who we are is not who we can become." We are meant to change, to progress, to improve. We are meant to be more than we are now. That doesn't mean we aren't good enough now. It's not a matter of being good or worthy of being loved. It's a matter of becoming like our Savior. Regardless of mistakes past and present, we have infinite value and worth. But, through Jesus Christ we have the privilege to progress. He gave His all--literally--so we could. Let's not get in His way, in other's way, in our way, of change.</div>
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Sometimes it takes even greater courage to see ourselves and others for who we are now, not a collection of mistakes we've all made in the past (because we have <i>all</i> made mistakes). It can be hard to forgive ourselves and others, to love ourselves and others. But, we must try. We need to try so we can be free. Free to love ourselves fully, free to forgive others--free to be all that we can be. Free to change. Free to forgive and be forgiven. Free to be free.</div>
Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-28336363487735406972015-02-11T08:52:00.001-08:002015-02-11T09:02:44.487-08:00Pornography: Fighting the Real Enemy<div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
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Yesterday I wrote a post on Facebook about pornography. (See below). I was fascinated by the responses, not because they didn't all agree with one another, but because the conversation became fixated on the book and movie mentioned in my post. I feel, in a sense, the heart of the post got lost. I am not fighting against one book or one movie.<b> </b><br />
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<b>I am fighting <i>for</i> the women and men who have been (or might be) damaged by pornography, and <i>against </i>an insidious industry that does thwarts the reality of what love really is.</b><br />
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Pornography has been called the <a href="https://www.lds.org/church/news/happiness-is-a-quest-elder-holland-tells-students?lang=eng">modern plague</a>. It has also been called <a href="http://fightthenewdrug.org/#sthash.sAO6E6EW.dpbs">the new drug.</a> It is dangerously addictive and destructive. I have seen it damage relationships, lifestyles, and people's sense of worth. It is tragic.<br />
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One of the most harmful effects on one who struggles with pornography is shame. Shame kills hope and love. They feel ashamed, dirty. Broken. It is a shame that settle so deeply into their soul that they take it for truth.It changes their ability to see themselves as they really are--as God sees them. It is heartbreaking. </div>
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So much has been spoken about the danger of pornography, how we must fight against it, how awful it is. And I wholeheartedly agree! But, in our quest to fight pornography, let's not cause more casualties. Sensitivity and compassion are key. Shame is something we should help free people of, not hit them with.<br />
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It is a harmful addiction, but there is hope. There is <a href="http://overcomingpornography.org/?lang=eng">a way</a> to get through it, to overcome it. As we fight this good fight, let us do all we can to to place the shame where it belongs: on the people at the heart of this industry, not those who suffer from it.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMvf4TaaCe8Y5ykNy9Ni228SLTlpWmSnbXyE-tb8d6Lwku1veiTZAavfmJvx8a3HbsahBy9TIUR74npKU5yEHseVH0Me8hoj-qWj_jQuuVhSwG7G3b2bQW5Z-lON_kjjS-bsu15faP4A0/s1600/Healing-quote-uchtdorf-lds-comes-move-toward-light.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMvf4TaaCe8Y5ykNy9Ni228SLTlpWmSnbXyE-tb8d6Lwku1veiTZAavfmJvx8a3HbsahBy9TIUR74npKU5yEHseVH0Me8hoj-qWj_jQuuVhSwG7G3b2bQW5Z-lON_kjjS-bsu15faP4A0/s1600/Healing-quote-uchtdorf-lds-comes-move-toward-light.jpg" height="320" width="241" /></a>One of the things I love about the gospel of Jesus Christ. It illuminates the hope in the world. All things can be overcome. In it is healing and strength, purpose and direction.<br />
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We have the power to choose light. Shame makes people feel as though they don't deserve light. But that is not true. They do.<br />
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As we fight this modern plague and strive to <a href="http://ldsliving.com/story/76116-12-ways-pornography-leaks-into-your-home-and-how-to-stop-them">protect </a>our families and loved ones, let is not be bashers of people, but beacons of hope. Every person matters. You matter.<br />
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Yes, I fight against pornography. But I also fight <i>for </i>hope, healing, compassion, and the escape from the prison of addiction. Addiction isn't a life sentence. It can be overcome. And it starts with one step away from the darkness towards the light. And I don't want to be in their way.<br />
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As we stand together to fight pornography, lets us also stand together to help the victims of it. Pornography kills love. Let's not do the same. Show compassion. Don't judge. Extend hope. Illuminate love. And let's <a href="https://www.lds.org/scriptures/nt/2-tim/4.7?lang=eng">fight the good fight</a> together.</div>
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<i>"Pornography comes in many forms, but the damage is the same. It numbs the spirit. It thwarts the realness and power of love. It creates a need and desire for more of itself.</i></div>
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<i>It is dangerous and debilitating. And it is wrong.</i></div>
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<i>It is also widely accepted as accepted as cool or ok. It is neither.</i></div>
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<i>The porn industry is a billion dollar market that, behind the camera, produces victims of hundreds of young girls, many of which have no idea what they are going to go through in film. On the other side, it sells the message that is demeaning and demoralizing. It produces addiction, shame, selfishness, and so many other unhealthy, damaging, and perhaps even debilitating effects.</i></div>
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<i>It also creates victimizers. Ted Bundy said in an interview once that he tracked the genesis of his twisted and murderous ways to pornography. It left him wanting more and more. That was the greatest commonality he shared with the other murderous inmates in his block. They were all addicted to porn.</i></div>
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<i>I once watched an interview of a famous actress on the Tonight Show a few years ago who said her favorite thing to do on the road was watch late night porn in her hotel room. She giggled and the audience applauded her for her brave confession. And yet, when a friend of mine, <a class="profileLink" data-hovercard="/ajax/hovercard/user.php?id=1644273503" href="https://www.facebook.com/tara.p.mayoros" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Tara</a>, writes an article about the the damage caused by books and movies like 50 Shades of Grey and she receives hate messages.</i></div>
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<i>Courage isn't redefining what is right. Courage is fighting for what is right.</i></div>
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<i>And I choose to fight for what is right.</i></div>
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<i>Pornography is wrong. It is harmful. It is dangerous.</i></div>
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<i>If you are a proponent for pornography, I invite you to reconsider. If you are victim or addict of pornography, I invite you to find help. If you fight against pornography, I invite to you to stand with me and my friends like Kirsten and Tara.</i></div>
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<i>Let's fight for real love, the dignity of women, true strength, and for our rising generation of boys and girls who look to us to teach them how to be happy, healthy adults, how to have healthy relationships and strong families, and what love truly is.</i></div>
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<span style="line-height: 19.3199996948242px;"><i>Let's stand for what is good. Let's fight for what is right. Together."</i></span></div>
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Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-16764621121041607652015-01-01T20:01:00.001-08:002015-01-01T20:01:30.726-08:00My New Year's Evolution<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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I love goal setting. I'm amazing at it. Give me a pen and paper and I can have a color-coded list of goals and resolutions that could make the coldest man weep. Now, keeping them.......that's another story.<br />
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I love making New Year's resolutions. I think it's the idea of a fresh start. To me, that's what life--what the Atonement of Jesus Christ-- is all about: fresh starts. We all mess up. Every single one of us. But, hope is found in the principle that we can start anew, try again, that we can be better tomorrow than we were today. It is liberating, leaving and breathing optimism. I love it!<br />
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This isn't a debate on whether or not everyone should make New Year's resolutions. I think if we were living right we'd be making new resolutions far more often than once a year. But, since Thursday does mark the beginning of the new year, why not start now?<br />
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My friend Joanne shared with me something at church she'd read in an article about New Year's resolutions. Something like this question was asked, "How can I stick to my New Year's goals and not fail?" His answer was an interesting one. He noted that many of our resolutions or goals tend to be huge changes. He advised that rather than focusing on resolutions, that we focus on <i>evolutions</i>. Those would be small, almost imperceptible changes in our routine that, over time, will change us for the better. <i><span style="font-size: large;">Rather than focusing on an overhaul of who we are, we focus on evolving who we are. </span></i>I love that concept! I love the idea of growth and progression, especially when it is pursued in small, manageable steps.<br />
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As I've thought about my New Year's resolution list over the past weeks, it was becoming quite long and a bit daunting. I planned to lose 25 pounds, read the scriptures all the way through in Spanish (no, I don't speak Spanish, but my son is serving a full-time mission for our church and is teaching in the Spanish language. I thought it would make me feel closer to him.) I also wanted to finish and get published the 4 books I'm working on, plus homeschool my youngest, get a part-time job, read my English scriptures an hour a day, exercise an hour a day,and not eat ice cream in 2015 (my most insane goal EVER). And that wasn't the end of my list.<br />
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I can tell you right now that I am a comfort eater, and if homeschooling is in my future, ice cream needs to be as well, so there is one failure right off the bat. I can see me failing reaching these goals in so many ways, but I was determined to try.<br />
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But now I'm not going to.<br />
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I'm not going to make New Year's resolutions this year. I want to make New Year's Evolutions. I want make those small changes that, in a week or a year, will reap big benefits and changes. When I focus on who I want to be (evolution) rather than the things I want to do (resolutions), I found that my goals had changed.<br />
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This is now my New Year's Evolution list:<br />
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I want to be more patient, so I will take two deep breaths when I feel the pang of impatience hit.<br />
I want to have greater self-discipline and be healthier, so I will work on exercising every day and eating smaller portions.<br />
I want to be closer to my Heavenly Father, so I will focus on saying more sincere prayers and finding His truths in the scriptures on a daily basis.<br />
I want to have more gratitude, so I will focus less on the things I don't have and more on the things I do.<br />
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My focus isn't on doing what I think I should do, but being who I think I should be. And the magic of that kind of evolution is that by striving to be who I should be, I will, by default, do what I should be doing. It's change from the inside out, not outside in.<br />
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That's my goal for 2015, my New Year's Evolution evolution: To be a better me. To be more like Him.<br />
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Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-75696671920942230732014-11-24T15:19:00.003-08:002014-11-24T15:19:46.906-08:00A Good Old-fashioned Pep Talk<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: justify;">
In my nearly twenty years of marriage I have learned that I don't want my husband to fix my problems. I am not totally helpless. Sometimes I just want to hear that everything will be okay. Sometimes I just need a little pep talk.</div>
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Sometimes life stinks. Or maybe it doesn't, and you just feel like you're lame. Sometimes life throws us a curve ball. We make mistakes, and things are just plain hard. </div>
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Sometimes we just need a good old-fashioned pep talk to get us through. So, for you who might need it (or just want it), this is for you....</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">You are all right, and everything will be okay.</span></i></div>
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When we feel our trials are caving in on us, it is hard to feel in control. We try to make sense of everything. We question what is happening and maybe even why. We look at our situation, which is undesirable to say the least, and we wonder how to make it better or how it can be fixed. Will things ever be the same?</div>
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Trials hard enough all by themselves, but we can complicate matters when we begin to question <i>ourselves.</i> We question our ability to cope and survive or even <i>if</i> we will survive. We worry that we will fail--that we will fail not only ourselves but also those who need us. We believe we are the sole pillar of strength and that if we fall, everything around us will, too. Questioning and doubting ourselves steal our ability to manage ourselves. We are our own kryptonite.</div>
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The adversary would have you believe that you are weak. He is the thief of hope and strength. He knows that when you feel powerless, you will act powerless. He wants to blind you to the fact that even when you are hurting and struggling, you can get up again.</div>
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Know this: <span style="color: magenta;"><i><b><u>You are doing better than you think you are. You are stronger than you realize. You will make it through.</u></b></i> </span></div>
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During difficult times, it might be tempting, not only to question yourself but to question God. That is, perhaps, Satan's most favorite weapon. He would have you wonder, If God loves you, why would He let this happen? He would have you doubt that God can hear you. He would have you even doubt there is a God.</div>
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But God is real. He does love you. He hears you. He will support and guide you. He has faith in you. He is the One who is ultimately in control. And as you exercise faith in Him, everything will be okay.</div>
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I know that life can be challenging. Perhaps, as you read this, you are struggling. You might be doubting yourself or your decisions, You might be wondering if you have the strength to cope. Your faith might be wavering. Your heart might be breaking. You might be confused or tired. You might even be crying. But listen to me and believe what I say:</div>
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">You are all right, and everything will be okay.</span></i></div>
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Because it's true. You can have confidence in that.Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-79974000894294770302014-11-09T22:05:00.000-08:002014-11-10T08:46:44.126-08:00Go Ahead. Reject Me...I'm OK with it.<div>
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I'll be honest, I have never liked rejection. It sucks. One of the things I'm working on is not taking rejection personally. It's hard! </div>
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I spoke at a wonderful conference for women and young women this past weekend. One of the principles I taught them was the the opinions of others are just that--their opinions. Opinions are not truth. </div>
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Rejection is often coupled with a palm to the face, or insults, or words like "It's not you, it's me." I can handle other people having negative opinions about me, but when it comes to the next layer of rejection, that's where I struggle.</div>
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I experience a wave of rejection just a few weeks ago. The first was an email I received from a blogger that was supposed to review my book back in January. I emailed to inquire if she had read the book and was planning on putting up a review. She said, "I've never gotten through it. What I've read is good but I seem to read a chapter then forget about it."</div>
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Ouch. Not even a typical female attempt to soften the blow. </div>
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The next day I received word that a speaking group I had hoped to become a part of decided I wasn't "a good fit" for them. </div>
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Ouch again.</div>
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Then, two days later, I was told by a publisher that one of my book ideas was "gimmicky," that they weren't interested in it, and that it would be damaging to my 'brand' to publish it.</div>
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Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.</div>
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I tried to remember the truth that rejection is more about the person (or people, in my case) rejecting than the person being rejected. But, I didn't do a very good job. I cried for a few minutes. (Ok, days, but who's counting?)</div>
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I focused on the trifecta of rejection until I began to take their opinions as truths. Maybe I wasn't a good writer or speaker. Maybe I was just a gimmick. The more I thought about it and chewed on it, the more miserable I became. I mean, what if they were right? </div>
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Then I wondered if the friend from the past that called me in January was right. She called, out of the blue, angry. She said she was reading my book, and didn't like it. She then proceeded to tell me I was a terrible person and need therapy. How could I write a book like this because I was such an awful person? She said she'd finish reading my book, but she wouldn't enjoy it. I told her I loved her and I would love to talk with her more about why she felt that way, but she said she wasn't interested. She hung up and unfriended me on FB.</div>
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Then, maybe the relative that told me the only reason they spend time with me is because they have to was right. We are too different and they just don't 'get' me.</div>
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Then, maybe Tim French from middle school was right when he spit in my face and told me I was gross.</div>
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The weight of rejection laid heavily on my heart. The more I though about it, the more I wondered if they were all right. Just maybe.</div>
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Then, two wonderful things happened. </div>
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A few days after I became a pinata of rejection, I talked with my husband about the string, and sting, of rejections. I said, "You know, I feel like I'm trying to do good things and and be a good person, and the very ones that are supposed to be the biggest supporters, the ones who should 'get' it, are not only rejecting me, but being not very kind about it. It hurts."</div>
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His response was unexpected and profound. He said, "It sounds very similar to someone else you know and love." It took only a moment for me to understand he meant Jesus Christ. Not that he or I were comparing myself or what I am doing to Him, but my husband's point was this: </div>
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Sometimes we focus on how much our Savior understands us--and He does. He has felt every emotion, every sorrow, every pain, every joy, every thing we have felt He has felt. He was perfect love and empathy for us. But, how often to do we focus on understanding how <i>He </i>felt, empathize with Him? </div>
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<a href="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fd/Jes%C3%BAs_en_casa_de_An%C3%A1s_Museo_del_Prado_Jos%C3%A9_de_Madrazo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/f/fd/Jes%C3%BAs_en_casa_de_An%C3%A1s_Museo_del_Prado_Jos%C3%A9_de_Madrazo.jpg" height="246" width="320" /></a></div>
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In that moment I understood just a sliver of what He must have felt. He was rejected, not just by His enemies, by the very people that should have been His greatest supporters. Family, friends, church members and leaders. </div>
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As I let this epiphany sink in, the reality of what my Savior went through became more real. <i>He</i> became more real. He was rejected. He hurt. I was rejected. I hurt. I knew that He understood me, but I felt that I had begun to understand Him just a little more.</div>
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Jesus Christ was perfect and rejected. His rejection was a direct reflection of others, not Him. I am totally imperfect and rejected. My rejection is a direct reflection of others, not me. Suddenly my rejection became a source of understanding and a spring-board to a stronger relationship with my Savior.</div>
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I felt closer to Him, but there were still some lingering doubts. The Savior is perfect. I'm not. What if they were right...even just by a hair?</div>
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Then came the second wonderful thing. A few days later I was scheduled to speak to a group of women about the power of doing and becoming. As I spoke the clouds of doubt left and I was lifted and filled once again. It wasn't from the women who came up afterwards and shared their stories with me (though I loved talking to every one of them!), but it was the feeling I had as I taught them.</div>
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When truth is taught, God confirms it by the power of the Spirit. If we are listening for it (and sometimes when we are not), we can hear and feel His validation of the things we are being taught or teaching. That morning I spoke about doubt and fear, and having faith in yourself. As I started to speak I felt like an empty well, but as I spoke, God seemed to fill me up with the confirmation that the things I was sharing were indeed true for them, and again true for me.</div>
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I say again because I've struggled with rejection in the past and He has helped me feel better--helped me to see once again see myself through His eyes. Not the eyes of the people who don't 'get' me, don't want me, and simply don't like me or what I have to offer, but how He sees me-how I really am. He made me feel good. He's done it in the past, and He's done it once again just last week.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Hh9ryOTbEe4SfBz8NpTXgJLQ08XVwyTiBn0KU5-i_IbR3BxDLe5G0bZtI20h9h30bl__dC9iuErcfeDP1hz0dUBj5kwkzLxUpJnoeDJZQc6KbMXzv8McdeHEyBaPFRvEN5qrFVpkJcDC/s1600/Michelle+Wilson+God+Knows+Me.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8Hh9ryOTbEe4SfBz8NpTXgJLQ08XVwyTiBn0KU5-i_IbR3BxDLe5G0bZtI20h9h30bl__dC9iuErcfeDP1hz0dUBj5kwkzLxUpJnoeDJZQc6KbMXzv8McdeHEyBaPFRvEN5qrFVpkJcDC/s1600/Michelle+Wilson+God+Knows+Me.JPG" height="299" width="320" /></a>When it comes right down to it, God knows me better than an old friend, a publisher, a speakers group, a blogger. Though they may even have valid points, it doesn't change my worth in God's eyes. It was a difficult, but sweet, reminder to me once again how important it is that we seek His perspective in our lives. I also felt His love for me, and it sweeter than anything I've ever tasted. Even Tollhouse chocolate chip cookie pie. It's that really good.<br />
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He also knows you and your worth. If rejection ever has or will come knocking at your door (or email, or phone), I hope you turn to Him. It's easy to get lost in the world of opinions, but He knows more about you that even you do, and His opinion is more important--and more true--than anyone else's.<br />
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To me, that's the power of perspective--it can not only help you see the good things in your life, but take the sting out of the negative things. Perspective also gives you the power to direct your eyes, your happiness, and ultimately, your power to where it needs to be--in God and in yourself. </div>
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I gave my power over to others for a few days, but I took it back. I don't dwell on the opinions of others. God knows who I am. I know who I am. So, go ahead. Reject me. I'm OK with it. </div>
Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-43448356715936361382014-08-20T10:28:00.003-07:002014-08-20T10:28:20.615-07:00Because of Him<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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I watched this short video again, and loved it so much I want to share it with all of you. It echos my testimony of my Savior, that I have is because of Him.</div>
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<br />Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-82596384432419511582014-07-09T01:50:00.002-07:002014-07-09T01:50:44.310-07:00BeautyfulThere's been a blog post circulating recently about being called beautiful. I get what they're saying. The world focuses on external beauty, placing greater value on it than our inner gifts and abilities. I totally agree. I even agree when the post said that the word has lost its true meaning.<br />
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But there was one thing I didn't agree with. It said that not everyone is beautiful--that some people are homely, plain, or even down-right ugly.<br />
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Not cool, blogger man (or woman. I never bothered to see who actually wrote it.)<br />
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I guess we've all seen people we may not find attractive, but attractiveness is different than beauty. The difference goes a bit deeper than pure semantics. Being attractive means that there is something about someone that another person is attracted to. We often say someone is beautiful when we mean they are attractive- something about their physical make-up attracts us. Even if the attraction is purely platonic and not sexual at all, it is still an attraction of sort. We are drawn to that person, they're appearance is pleasing to us. They are attractive not because of who they are, but because of who <i>we</i> are--because <i>we</i> are attracted to something about them.<br />
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Beauty is different. Beauty doesn't depend on someone else. Beauty is innate, it is divine. Beauty is in the divinity of who we are and where we came from, how we were created and who created us. Beauty is in the breaths we take, the hope in our eyes, the smile on our lips. Beauty needs no admirer or validation--it simply is.<br />
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And we simply are . . . beautiful. All of us.<br />
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I will never tell my child they are not beautiful simply because someone doesn't find them attractive. Of course I will teach them they have value and worth, talents and abilities. But, I will also teach them they are beautiful, because they are.<br />
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Beauty isn't skin deep. It is soul deep. We aren't beautiful because of what we look like, but because of who we are. We are filled with the beauty of life, love, hope, kindness, giving, laughter, and joy. There is even beauty in our sorrow and sadness, in our longing for peace--for in those moments we are humble and searching for truth and purpose. There is so much beauty in us that perhaps we should stop calling people beautiful and staring saying what we were are: beautyful.<br />
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Because we are. I am beautyful. You are beautyful.<br />
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And that is simply beautiful.<br />
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<br />Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-66938840997874273792014-04-21T14:17:00.000-07:002014-07-08T14:18:18.037-07:00Almost Every Moment<div>
Since the moment I signed my contract with Deseret Book to publish 'Does This Insecurity Make Me Look Fat?' I have been asked a hundred times, 'Aren't you just LOVING every minute?!'</div>
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<span style="font-family: Broadway; font-size: 24pt; line-height: 64px;">Of course I am</span><span style="font-family: Broadway; font-size: 24pt; line-height: 64px;">!</span> How could I answer otherwise? I am a published author--of an inspirational book, nonetheless! I landed a my first book deal from my very first pitch session at my very first writer's conference. I am proof that miracles can happen, that dreams can come true! </div>
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So, of course I tell people I am loving every moment. Because I should, right? Right? How dare I not?<br />
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I've loved <i>almost </i>every moment.<br />
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<span style="font-family: Elephant, serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 42.66666793823242px; text-align: center;">But, the truth is,</span><span style="font-family: Elephant, serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 42.66666793823242px; text-align: center;"> I haven't loved<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>every</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> moment.</span> </span><span style="font-family: Elephant, serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 42.66666793823242px; text-align: center;">In fact, there are some moments I haven't enjoyed at all.</span></div>
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Like the moment before I signed the contract, where I cried and wondered how I could possibly publish a book about insecurity when I still had moments of insecurity.</div>
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Like the moment I realized my book wasn't flying off the shelves, and people weren't fighting to get their hands on the last copy in the store.</div>
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Like the moment my book was replaced by the 'next big release' and I was an 'old release.'</div>
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Like the moment I was snubbed by someone I looked up to.</div>
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Like the moment I walked up to a woman at my book signing, handed her my book, told her all about, only to have her hand it back to me and say, "No thanks, I just want <i>Where's Waldo</i>."</div>
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Or like the moment an old friend called me after many years to tell me she she bought my book and she felt the need to tell me I was a terrible person who needed therapy, that I am sick and twisted for writing such things, since I was a deeply disturbed person inside. That she will read my book, though she won't enjoy it at all. </div>
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That moment was awful.</div>
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I wasn't expecting any of these moments, and, frankly, they all sucked.</div>
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Then there were other moments that were filled with surprising and unwelcome feelings.</div>
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Doubt that I could write another book. </div>
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Fear that if I tried and failed I would become an official 'One Hit Wonder.'</div>
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Sadness that the phone stopped ringing and the emails stopped coming as I stepped off the euphoric New Release roller coaster and back onto the platform of real life.</div>
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Confusion when I struggled to know what direction to take next.</div>
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Pressure to write another book before the few fans that I have forget me.</div>
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Though these moments and feelings have only dotted the joy that I've felt during this experience, they are still real. And <span style="font-family: Forte; line-height: 32px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">I have felt awful for feeling them.</span></span><br />
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Have you ever felt like that? Like you had an amazing opportunity, blessing, or experience, and yet, there are some bad or tough moments, or negative or difficult feelings that arise? Perhaps after the birth of your child, or a new job. Maybe a new relationship or marriage. Have you ever felt guilty for not loving every single moment?</div>
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I'll admit, I grappled with justifying the contradictory moments and feelings. Then I've found few things that have helped me to understand how it all fits in--how we can feel bad amid the good, and what we can do about it. </div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Script', sans-serif; line-height: 32px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">First, I accepted the fact that I am human.</span></span></b> We have bad times, even bad days. That doesn't mean we're bad--that I'm bad.</div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Script', sans-serif; line-height: 32px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Secondly, I recognized the adversary's influence in my difficulties</span></span></b><i style="font-size: x-large;">.</i> As I looked at timeline of the bad moments/feelings, I saw a direct correlation with my successes and opportunities. As I took a step back, it became easy for me to see the influence of the adversary on my journey. He doesn't want me to succeed. He doesn't want me to be happy. And he definitely doesn't want me to write another book.</div>
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One of the things I have loved about the publication of my book is the way it has touched and empowered so many women. I get emails and phone calls, meet them in person and online. Through hugs and tears I have heard their stories, their heartbreak, and the hope and joy they have found through the truths contained in my little book. Satan wants to stop the good from progressing. He wants to stop me.</div>
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Once I realized that, I allowed the bad moments and feelings to be just that, moments and feelings. They didn't ruin my experience. They didn't take away from the beautiful and far-reaching effects of my intentions and efforts. They didn't mean I haven't done any good, that I am weak, or that I am not cut out to do this again. They are just moments and feelings. They aren't me.</div>
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I am prone to these moments and feelings because I am doing good things, because I am pushing myself, putting myself out there, and trying hard.The adversary wouldn't mess with an unworthy opponent or one who wasn't a threat. It is a sign that I am actually doing good--really good.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Script', sans-serif; line-height: 64px;">Third, I also realized that, though these moments and feelings were real, and sometimes awful, it was the guilt that I felt over even having them that weighed the most heavily on me</span></b>,</span> as though having them meant that I either didn't appreciate or deserve the wonderful experience as a whole. Once I saw them for what they were, just moments and feelings I could compartmentalize and work through, rather than an indictment of my failure or unworthiness of this experience, I became free to focus once again on the joy of the journey. </div>
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And it has been a joy.</div>
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<b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Script', sans-serif; line-height: 32px;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Fourth, I realized, once again, the power that prayer unlocks</span></span></b><span style="font-size: large;"><b>.</b></span> Through a lot of prayer, God has mercifully given me glimpses of His perspective and purpose. He has eased my fears, and strengthened my shoulders and heart. And He has let me know that, as always, He has a plan for me--even though I might not love every moment of it.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Script', sans-serif; line-height: 64px;">Fifth was the realization that difficult moments don't mean the experience isn't a or valued one and I can't still be gratefu</span></b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Script', sans-serif; line-height: 64px;">l</span></span><span style="font-size: large;">.</span> It's okay to not love every moment or be grateful for everything we have or don't have, as long as we have gratitude <i>in</i> our circumstances. <a href="https://www.lds.org/general-conference/2014/04/grateful-in-any-circumstances?lang=eng" target="_blank"><b>President Dieter F. Uchtdorf</b> spoke of this recently</a>:</div>
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<i>"Could I suggest that we see gratitude as a disposition, a way of life that stands independent of our current situation? In other, I'm suggesting that instead of being thankful for things, we focus on being thankful </i>in<i> our circumstances--whatever they may be." </i></div>
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He acknowledged that it can be difficult to be grateful for the things that are painful or difficult--but, he said, we can have gratitude IN all our circumstances.I can have miserable moments and feelings <i>and</i> still have a thankful heart. And that's ok.</div>
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As I look back at my journey this past year, there has not been a day--even days with tough moments and negative feelings--where I haven't felt an overall gratitude to God for His love and guidance. It was ok that I wasn't grateful for every moment, that I didn't love every second. I could have those not-so-happy experiences AND still be grateful. It wasn't an either or. </div>
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That was a big moment for me. The guilt I felt for struggling with these moments and feelings left. There are some residual feelings there, especially as new pressures arise and new opportunities loom (or not loom), and that's all right.</div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Script', sans-serif; line-height: 64px;">Lastly, I realized that this will probably happen again--and that's ok</span></b><i><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Script', sans-serif; line-height: 64px;">.</span></i></span><span style="font-family: 'Segoe Script', sans-serif; font-size: 13.5pt; line-height: 36px;"> </span>Good marriages are dotted with tough times. Parenting is riddled with challenging moments.Pretty much any worthy goal that requires effort to achieve will also bring on moments and feelings that might not be joyful-that might be downright awful. But that is the ebb and flow of life, the rhythm of growth. The reason we are here.</div>
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We aren't here to love every single moment of this life. But, we are here to develop the ability to have gratitude in our circumstances, whatever they may be. We are here to reach and grow, to extend ourselves and improve ourselves, to be more than we are today. That kind of reaching brings growing pains, from inside ourselves and out. With God's help, we can have the perspective to see through and beyond those moments and feelings, to the wonderful things He has in store.</div>
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So, have I loved every moment?</div>
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No. But, I am deeply grateful for my experience.</div>
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Do I look forward to the more painful moments and bad feelings?</div>
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No. But with perspective and God's help, I am ready for them, and I say, <span style="font-family: 'Goudy Stout', serif; font-size: 16pt; line-height: 42.66666793823242px;">"Bring it on."</span></div>
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Now I'm off on another journey, another book, another amazing ride, and another set of difficult moments and feelings. </div>
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And I'm gonna love (almost) every moment of it.<br />
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Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-6959351945285811932014-04-16T14:17:00.000-07:002014-07-08T14:17:39.843-07:00I Do Believe in Fairies. I do, I do!<div class="MsoNormal">
When I was younger I had a very active imagination—like borderline therapy-active. During my third grade year, my friend Melanie and I were convinced we were actually long-lost daughters of Zeus. We spent our recesses running from small green nymphs on the playground fields, and at least once a week I would do a thorough sweep of my house searching for the secret door that would lead me home. Yes, I loved anything magical or imaginary.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<i>**Spoiler Alert for all Tooth Fairy and Santa Believers. You might want to skip ahead a few paragraphs.** </i></div>
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After my parents gave me ‘the talk’ (you know, the one where they tell you that the most exciting things in your life up that point had been all lies) I still secretly believed in the Tooth Fairy and Santa Clause. I even had an imaginary friend named Fred. Yes, I still believed in all things magical.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then I grew up and stopped believing.<o:p></o:p></div>
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But, something has happened in recent years that has caused me to open the doors of belief once again. No, it’s not the Tooth Fairy. The Tooth Fairy in my house is completely unreliable. I don’t know how many times I’ve *ahem* I mean the Wilson Tooth Fairy has had to sneak in a stupid quarter while I ‘searched’ for the money my poor children ‘must have missed’ under their pillow because they were still half asleep. It’s not Santa, either. As much as I love the idea of a fat man breaking into my house to watch me in my sleep and give me stuff, I think I’ll pass.</div>
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The thing that got me believing in fairies again is dirt.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t know how many times I have cleaned my house, only to turn around and find dirt on the floor. It’s in the crook of the baseboards, peeking out from under the fridge, on my carpet, and in my bathtub. I know I clean my house, and my children tell me they didn't do it. For years I racked my brain, pulled my hair out, and hollered at my totally innocent children. Then it finally hit me. It must be the <span style="font-size: large;"><i>Dirt Fairy.</i></span> The realization rolled around in my brain and gave birth to a life-changing epiphany:</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b> Fairies are actually real!</b></span><o:p></o:p></div>
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As I let this once-again-found belief sink in, the possibilities and explanations to all other life’s mysteries opened wide up—and the answers all led to fairies. But not the sweet, beautiful fairies you'd imagine.</div>
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These are totally dysfunctional fairies.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Have you ever picked up a room, went in to the next room, only to come back into the just-cleaned room to find toys on the floor. Yep. That’s the <i><span style="font-size: large;">Clutter Fairy.</span></i><o:p></o:p></div>
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Or perhaps you’ve always wondered how so many shoes end up piled by the front door in masses. You can thank the<span style="font-size: large;"><i> Shoe Fairy</i></span> for that one. She is a devious one. She steals an occasional shoe and hides it under the bed, just to watch you suffer. She also feeds your best shoes and favorite slippers to the puppy when you’re not looking.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then there’s the <span style="font-size: large;"><i>Sock Fairy</i></span>. She’s the Shoe Fairy’s half cousin and a total kleptomaniac.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Who can forget the <i><span style="font-size: large;">Random Jab Fairy</span></i>? At first I thought my random aches and pains were due to my getting older; a strange pain in the side, an ache in my knees, and headaches a plenty. But know I know that the Random Jab Fairy follows me around during the day, randomly jabbing, smacking, poking and kicking me. Sadistic fairy.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The <span style="font-size: large;"><i>Money Fairy</i></span> is nearly the worst. Somehow she messes with my bank account, lowering my balance and ordering stuff from Amazon and the iStore that no one seems to claim.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The list goes on and on. The <span style="font-size: large;"><i>Gas Fairy,</i></span> who siphons gas from my van when I’m asleep, leaving just enough fumes for me to get to the store the next day, all while muttering, “I <i>just</i> put gas in the thing!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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The <span style="font-size: large;"><i>Cereal Fairy </i></span>who opens up twelve boxes of cereal, rips the bag in the process, lets the cereal get stale, and NEVER finishes it.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I can’t forget the <i><span style="font-size: large;">Gray Hair Fairy,</span></i> who is attempting to plant a silver meadow on my head. She’s buddies with the <span style="font-size: large;"><i>Sleep Like Crap Fairy</i></span>—the one who gives me bad dreams, hot flashes, and makes me toss and turn at night.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I won’t even go into the <i><span style="font-size: large;">Metabolism Fairy</span></i>, who slows my metabolism to the pace of snail. I look at a cookie and my hips explode, yet she revs my teenage son’s metabolism up so high he can jam a gallon of ice cream, five corn dogs, and a bag of chips into his 3% body-fat physique and still be hungry. Twisted, I tell you!<o:p></o:p></div>
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The <span style="font-size: large;"><i>Time Fairy</i></span> is the worst. She speeds it up, slows it down, and steals it from me. </div>
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The <span style="font-size: large;"><i>Memory Fairy</i></span> has turned my steel-trap memory into a colander. </div>
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And I mustn't forget the<span style="font-size: large;"><i> Laundry Fairy</i></span> that puts my children’s clean clothes right back into the dirty clothes hamper so they won’t have to put them away (they love that one.)<o:p></o:p></div>
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Luckily, in my search for fairies I have found a few good ones who are trying to salvage their family name.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I owe many thanks to the<span style="font-size: large;"><i> Long-lost Five Dollar Bill in my Pocket Fairy</i></span>. She’s paid for many an Oreo McFlurry.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Then there’s the <i><span style="font-size: large;">Bargain Fairy,</span></i> who stashes the rare perfect shirt among the chaos of Norstrom Rack, Marshall’s, and Ross for me to find.<o:p></o:p></div>
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And I need to acknowledge the very real <i><span style="font-size: large;">Sample Lady Fairy</span></i> at Costco who has kept me fed and staved off a number potential Costco panic attacks. She’s the best.<o:p></o:p></div>
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You may not believe in fairies. You might blame my children, or coincidence, or old age—whatever. That’s okay. But, for this forty-two year old woman, I am squeezing my eyes shut and whispering, “I do believe in fairies. I do, I do! I do believe in fairies. I do, I do!”<o:p></o:p></div>
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(And I’m secretly hoping that when I open my eyes, the <i><span style="font-size: large;">Warm Brownies and Vanilla Ice Cream Fairy </span></i>will have stopped by. She comes around. A lot.)</div>
Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-90658260933860395842014-03-17T14:16:00.000-07:002014-07-08T14:17:02.501-07:00Has it Been Worth It?Getting published by Deseret Book has definitely been an amazing roller coaster of experiences and emotions. In the past twelve months I've been higher than high, but I've also been lower than low. I mean, low.<br />
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I've felt the thrill of the pitch sessions, meetings, and the acceptance. I've had the pressure of deadlines. edits, and expectations. I've felt the fear of rejection and the doubt if I could write another book. I've had women tell me I've inspired them, and I've had one tell me I am a horrible person who needs therapy. That one hurt.<br />
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I've been exposed to all sorts of things that I never would if I hadn't written and published a book Most of them good, but some were just plain bad.<br />
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A week ago I asked myself if it was worth it.<br />
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A week ago I wasn't. I was tired from the promotional trips. I was frustrated at the business end of being published. I felt as though all of my efforts to 'extend my reach' had been in vain, and felt the pressure of meeting the high hopes of my publisher. I felt like I was failing.</div>
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Then I had an experience that changed my perspective. I spoke to a group of women at their evening church activity.</div>
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My down feelings, coupled with a ten-day long battle with a cold I was losing, caused me to not only doubt my ability to inspire these women, but be inspired myself. When it was my time to speak, I stood in front of these good women and said a silent prayer that I wouldn't tank it. Then I began.</div>
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I spoke about the power of perspective--how the way we see ourselves and life is often the problem. I spoke of the things that get in the way of our perspective, and how God's perspective is clear and true. I testified that when we learn to see ourselves, our trial, and life through God's eyes, we will be amazed at the reality of who we are and the purpose of it all. I shared stories and scriptures. They laughed (a lot), they cried, and in the end, they felt inspired and changed.</div>
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The beauty of it was that I did too. </div>
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I felt refocused re-energized. My perspective shifted back again to what was important--the message I had to share and the God that I feel who wants me to share it.</div>
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God wants His daughters to know they are of worth, that they have great things to do (even though they may not seem that great at the time), that they are stronger than they realize, and are probably doing much better than they realize, too. I believe He wants them to realize the power they have to change their perspective, to conquer fear and doubt, and to be who He knows they can be. He wants them to laugh, to learn, to work, to seek Him, and to feel joy and love. </div>
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As we catch glimpses of ourselves through His eyes, we will be empowered. <i>That</i> is the message I have to share, and that message is all that matters.<br />
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I came back to the reason I began to write in the first place. <i>I</i> want to share that message.<br />
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So, today I asked myself again if it has been worth it.</div>
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And the answer is and unequivocal, Yes.<br />
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I've heard it said that great people do great things. I'm not saying that I'm a great person, but I feel like I've worked really hard and accomplished something pretty great. But what made it great wasn't what it was, but the <i>Why.</i><br />
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Sometimes we can set off to do something great and we meet opposition along the way. Most great things don't come easy. You may be pursuing something right now. You might be discouraged, and you might even wonder if its worth it. In those times, take a moment to go back to the <i>Why.</i> Set aside the stress and fear and go back to the reason you started off with.<br />
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I bet you'll find that your <i>Why</i> really is worth it.<br />
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And if it is then keep going. Work at it, share it, do it, love it, and enjoy it. Because it's worth it.</div>
Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-91259294854080054752014-03-03T16:26:00.001-08:002014-03-03T16:26:39.493-08:00More Stairs? Seriously?I spent the day in Seattle a while back, enjoying the sights and sounds of the city. I walked through Pike Place Market, saw the ferries in the Sound, ate gelato and even saw a political protest in the middle of a busy intersection. It was quite an eventful day.<br />
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But, the highlight of my day was a lunch date with my husband. He wanted to take me somewhere different for lunch, so we grabbed some teryaki from a local deli and headed to the rooftop patio of Rainier Square to eat our food.</div>
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We walked inside the mall and found the flight of stairs that led to the top. Now, I don't mind a few stairs. My home is a two-story house and I seem to manage all right. But, you see, I've got Parker Knees. You won't find it in any medical book- it's a condition that runs in our family, on the Parker side. It means I've got crappy knees that creek, crack, pop and ache. They also hurt like crazy when I walk up and down stairs.</div>
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So, when we approached the first flight of stairs, I was ok. I have become immune to climbing one or two flights. But, the stairs kept coming and coming. By the time we reached what we thought was the last set of stairs my husband said, "I should have found you an elevator." </div>
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And there were still two more flights.</div>
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I started up the remaining stairs and felt a shooting pain in my knee. Instinctively I reached out for my husband's hand and he held it the rest of the way. He didn't pull me up the stairs, he simply held my hand.<br />
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But it made me feel so much better.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikUA9G7JOc9y5pVwDZEnhjAi34Jj7VBK3XLp9yppz4na_ytIMlWrv1bhR9873bpiQyZ-gqbHJ6Puz6X1Ldt5praeJgKn6VqXN6dovFmpGlY9uGvNM897inbMM_rfniYZQMjuBBzKL38hI/s1600/DSCN2203.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikUA9G7JOc9y5pVwDZEnhjAi34Jj7VBK3XLp9yppz4na_ytIMlWrv1bhR9873bpiQyZ-gqbHJ6Puz6X1Ldt5praeJgKn6VqXN6dovFmpGlY9uGvNM897inbMM_rfniYZQMjuBBzKL38hI/s640/DSCN2203.JPG" height="150" width="200" /></a>As I stood at the bottom of the last flight of stairs I could see the windows above and the glass door which let to the roof patio (insert angelic choirs singing, Aaaaaaaaa in unison.)</div>
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The hike up the stairs was worth it.We had a wonderful lunch together enjoying each others' company and the beautiful elevated view of Seattle.</div>
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I thought about that little stair incident this morning. The stairs were not insurmountable, but they were a painful challenge. But, as I held my husband's hand I got the support I needed ease some pain and get to the top. </div>
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It was a small act on his part, and he probably didn't realize the impact it had on me, but it did.</div>
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In Hebrews 12:12 Paul exhorts the people to "lift up the hands which hang down, and the feeble knees."</div>
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Most of life's most challenging times are not the make-it-or-break-it ones. They are often those times when we are "enduring to the end," when the challenges we face are ongoing or repeating: sickness, a challenging child, financial issues, depression, etc. </div>
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It's those times that we might look at the day and think, "More? Seriously?" We may doubt ourselves and feel discouraged. But, Heavenly Father knows we can make it. He also knows how much a supportive hand can help.<br />
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I know there have been many times in my life where I felt weighed down, tired, in pain, and even hopeless. As I look back now, I can see that at those times I was always lifted up and supported. It isn't always as easy to see when we are smack dab in the middle of a trial or painful time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6cWL_EWOfyz8Daq7Kjyulgtw61xULGT4T5_4PfJEmMrZyXiSkj1PtJx-oLaUd6FQG4nGXIITw5AdzxhEqOrBXhyc1EWjdWmSPjoTTKCAu7P5-V_KOFcpHmRkBVcVrz_tckBVl_yfHupT/s1600/reach+out+your+hand+help+one+another+michellewilsonatlarge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg6cWL_EWOfyz8Daq7Kjyulgtw61xULGT4T5_4PfJEmMrZyXiSkj1PtJx-oLaUd6FQG4nGXIITw5AdzxhEqOrBXhyc1EWjdWmSPjoTTKCAu7P5-V_KOFcpHmRkBVcVrz_tckBVl_yfHupT/s1600/reach+out+your+hand+help+one+another+michellewilsonatlarge.jpg" height="240" width="400" /></a>In those times, when your hands hang down or your knees feel feeble, have faith. God is aware and will send support. He is aware of our trials and will give you what you need to make it through.<br />
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Sometimes it comes through an inner strength and perspective given by Him, or perhaps the situation might change. But, most often He answers prayers by through those around us. So, when you stand in the middle of your trials and see another batch of the same, and think, "More trials? Seriously?" Look around. Someone will be there to lift you up. If you can't find anyone, reach for me. I will help.</div>
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Sometimes reaching out takes great courage, an act of faith in and of itself. But, that is what we must do--reach out. Most likely someone already is there next to you, waiting with an outstretched hand.<br />
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Then you'll find that all you have to do is hold tight, keep going and then enjoy the view.</div>
Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-23738729723048664742014-02-16T14:14:00.000-08:002014-07-08T14:15:36.141-07:00<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Why do we care what other's think of us?</div>
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That's a tough question. I think, in part, it's because we sometimes have a hard time seeing ourselves so we rely on others to tell us what they see; kind of like taking a friend clothing shopping. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxZT98LZ5ZbXN3KYNBawmPpstVN-ODPxpV15V3p3zn2hVlb06B9pl4UgRylaZpX8WDwh7gLh-KCep3rG7gns3ZRDUGlKUEmpCesl83ssDL_7mQINg8Txc1TTvH077zoo4D4E0KiJDoQ7P/s1600/ElaineBeniseDancingSeinfeld.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxZT98LZ5ZbXN3KYNBawmPpstVN-ODPxpV15V3p3zn2hVlb06B9pl4UgRylaZpX8WDwh7gLh-KCep3rG7gns3ZRDUGlKUEmpCesl83ssDL_7mQINg8Txc1TTvH077zoo4D4E0KiJDoQ7P/s1600/ElaineBeniseDancingSeinfeld.png" height="200" width="129" /></a><i>**Side Story: About five years ago I came home from a shopping trip with some clothes I thought were fantastic. I did the obligatory fashion show for my good husband, who complimented each one, then gently suggested that perhaps next time it might be fun for me to take a friend. Turned out that my clothes were cute, but my style, like my dance moves, seemed to have been frozen in the nineties (yes, I can do <a href="http://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLehxy3Pwz448dh2kyu1fF6yr7TW8kMTer">The Elaine</a>.) Luckily I've been able to move past that--well, at least the clothes part.</i></div>
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The problem comes when we allow what others think--especially the wrong others--determine our worth in our own eyes. </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6QeFxMnntAtM9uRmNP-WXKF9Y3lSUrov5_sR8Lr5l7mlFb6FCwKd1vhJ5mmsLlQp-7InBzp5ukpgJqUnSkPy_6zFq9hmzuYjiPazKcUTThK0qcukzHpso_rUb0EIUGakupJYcAoBu2GhN/s1600/rotary+phone.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6QeFxMnntAtM9uRmNP-WXKF9Y3lSUrov5_sR8Lr5l7mlFb6FCwKd1vhJ5mmsLlQp-7InBzp5ukpgJqUnSkPy_6zFq9hmzuYjiPazKcUTThK0qcukzHpso_rUb0EIUGakupJYcAoBu2GhN/s1600/rotary+phone.jpg" height="200" width="200" /></a>That was something I struggled with as a teenager. In<i><a href="http://deseretbook.com/Does-Insecurity-Make-Me-Look-Fat-Michelle-Wilson/i/5113991"> 'Does This Insecurity Make Me Look Fat?</a></i>' I explained that "I sold my identity for the compliments and criticism of others." And it was true. I would come home from middle school/high school and sit by my awesome rotary phone, waiting for it to ring. If it did, I felt great! If it didn't, I was sure it was because no one liked me because I was totally lame. </div>
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I gave others the power to tell me what I was worth. The ironic thing that I grew to understand later was that they didn't really care. Not that they didn't care about me, but they didn't spend inordinate amounts of time considering my intrinsic value. They were just living their lives.</div>
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But I didn't know that then. I let what they thought--or more accurately, what <i>I thought</i> they thought of me, make me feel either good or bad. </div>
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The difficult thing about that is that, for some crazy reason, it is so much easier for us to believe the bad things we hear than the good. So, for a long time I felt pretty bad about myself. </div>
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Then I changed where I was looking.</div>
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As I grew older, I stopped looking around me and started looking above more. I began to really strengthen my relationship with God, and in turn, I began to see Him <i>and</i> myself differently. </div>
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I began to see glimpses of how He sees me. And I wasn't lame. I'm still not. I know this because He told me. And He doesn't lie.</div>
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I've changed a lot over the years. So has my phone. And so has my view of myself. I know who He is and who I am. I like who I am. And I find great joy and confidence in that. </div>
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But (and isn't there always a big but), sometimes I falter--especially when the threat of a CPS call is looming like at my daughter's Mother's Day Tea a few years ago. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(I give a sum-up of the funny story in the video below. The full story is in my book.)</span></div>
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Luckily, those moments don't last, and I remind myself that no matter how bad I think I might appear in someone else's eyes, God know me. </div>
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God knows who I am. He knows my intentions. He knows my weaknesses and shortcomings. He know my strengths and talents. He knows me.<br />
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And He thinks I am pretty amazing. </div>
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So I choose believe Him. </div>
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Because He can't lie. </div>
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So, amazing it is.</div>
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Of course this doesn't apply only to me.<br />
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Are there times when you feel lame? Time when maybe you let the opinions of others sink too deeply under your skin? Does it sometimes affect your sense of worth? You're not alone.We all do that (well, most of us, anyway. There are some that truly are impervious to anyone else's opinions-though they are few in number.)<br />
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The point is, when you feel that way, it's easy to start on the path of feeling better. Start by looking up to God. He knows you. He knows who are. He knows your intentions. He knows your weaknesses and shortcomings. He knows your strengths and talents. He knows <i>you</i>.<br />
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And He thinks you're pretty amazing.<br />
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So, choose to believe Him.<br />
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Because He can't lie.<br />
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So, amazing it is for you too. </div>
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Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-42135006460807009452014-02-14T11:18:00.000-08:002014-02-14T11:57:50.701-08:00Imagine That<div style="margin: 0px;">
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I remember playing as a young child. My world was colorful, the </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">possibilities limitless. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvsXZLkRnvkRCZfsyPhEj_B3lVlZCDktdukvw1xIm6MSHUi3ldSCa-NVV4C-fKsbcRTISMpV3d1aTHazFxCv6h2newrYiNVFNRbxU6BNt_X1lLcJ6ApcKP965mIPXkuqwqKK0WnBd3HkU3/s1600/Princess.png" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvsXZLkRnvkRCZfsyPhEj_B3lVlZCDktdukvw1xIm6MSHUi3ldSCa-NVV4C-fKsbcRTISMpV3d1aTHazFxCv6h2newrYiNVFNRbxU6BNt_X1lLcJ6ApcKP965mIPXkuqwqKK0WnBd3HkU3/s1600/Princess.png" height="161" width="200" /></a><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My imagination transformed daily life into an adventure; I was a princess, my brothers were trolls. I loved to pretend with my friends. My entire third-grade year I was convinced I was a lost daughter of Zeus. My friend Melody and I spent our school recesses running away from green nymphs who were sent to this world to get us, and I spent my evenings looking for the hidden secret door in my house that would lead me home. <br /></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br />My best friend Nicalee and I spent summer days pretending to be orphans running away from Ms. Minchin, the evil orphanage director. <br /><br />(My love and respect 0 the late, great Shirley Temple.)<br /><br /></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">My imaginary adventures seemed to share the same theme: I was always a girl who, despite ,my best intentions, fell into misfortune. And when all hope seemed to be lost, I would realize that I was more than just a girl, I was the daughter of a king, I was the inheritor of a fortune, or I was the Bionic Woman (that was a fun one). Then, armed with the knowledge of who I <i>really </i>was, my “<i>true identity</i>”, I found the strength and will to overcome.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I always longed to be something more than I was, do something more than I did, be someone more than I was. Then I grew up, and I still had that longing -- to be something more than I am, do something more that I am doing, and be someone more than I am.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But, I can't think that desire is only mine. </span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are wired to grow- not just physically, but in all respects. It is ingrained</span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> into our souls to progress, to reach for more, to do more, to be more. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">When we are young, our limited ability to comprehend our eternal nature is compensated (or perhaps manifested) by childhood imaginings of princesses and dragons. As we grow up, the same desire is there- to be more than who we are. But as we mature, imagination is replaced by pragmatic views, and we find ourselves, at times, feeling unsettled and unfulfilled in life.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think the reason for those feelings of discontent is that we truly are more that we seem to be here; and there is more to life than life than what we can see- but we just don't fully know it, understand it, or believe it.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> It is as difficult to find a woman who is completely satisfied with herself as it is to find a parking space at the mall on Black Friday. There are a few out there- but they are a real find. Most of us are quite adept at finding and acknowledging perceived flaws, downplaying our strengths and feeling like we aren't enough.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, enough with that rubbish!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><b>We are more than we realize we are.</b></i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are more than Pinterest pinners, laundry cleaners, career women, writers, runners, etc. We are more than just imperfect, fallen people bumping into each other in a world full of sadness and pain and joy. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>We are sons and daughters of Deity, with a Divine lineage and a Divine inheritance.</i></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are more than the knights we imagined when we are young; we are armed with the shield of faith, and the armor of God, as described by the Apostle Paul. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are more than the magicians that used to amaze us with their card tricks; through the Atonement of Jesus Christ, we can have the miracle of forgiveness and healing.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are more than children playing tag in the front yard; we are valiant disciples dodging the fiery darts of the Adversary.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagine that! All the things I longed for as a child are true!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I thought I was just a girl. Now I know my true identity- the daughter of God, my Heavenly Father.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am the inheritor of an eternal fortune.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am more that what I appear to be. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And so are you.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uEuBeJ4Iw4hZMQEY_do9roRWxh6a0hyKyvmSNZBnjbP6v2TpJomuES4P4vXXlo0e2dHNBta9fBoDi3yKvGAZ0lva8JsaBfxPpID7XDV4oW47zBxInJKMgnSW6Gcr_XnqevF_BKGzr2Gn/s1600/Imagine+that.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-uEuBeJ4Iw4hZMQEY_do9roRWxh6a0hyKyvmSNZBnjbP6v2TpJomuES4P4vXXlo0e2dHNBta9fBoDi3yKvGAZ0lva8JsaBfxPpID7XDV4oW47zBxInJKMgnSW6Gcr_XnqevF_BKGzr2Gn/s1600/Imagine+that.jpg" height="248" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">And armed with that knowledge, we can find the strength and the will to overcome whatever this world has to throw at us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We are more than just us. We are His.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Imagine that.</span></div>
Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-29841956834102645462014-02-12T14:16:00.000-08:002014-07-08T14:16:21.692-07:00Paperback or ebook? That is the question (and the shameless plug)<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSqbNYSe8JCqtQC1NOtT2mnuLmUo68aeu3fG9YboQVDT4wx6ragskeVPrXvKYD4ptmIy_mQwi5ejc56DbtTpWg-cgy5MS98UoP7ERKaxr0cM8US4mX_pAf6_HdSopdx_nj8DJQ6W44X2aQ/s1600/20140212_174639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSqbNYSe8JCqtQC1NOtT2mnuLmUo68aeu3fG9YboQVDT4wx6ragskeVPrXvKYD4ptmIy_mQwi5ejc56DbtTpWg-cgy5MS98UoP7ERKaxr0cM8US4mX_pAf6_HdSopdx_nj8DJQ6W44X2aQ/s1600/20140212_174639.jpg" height="320" width="180" /></a>With the increasing popularity of the ebook, coupled with its convenience and explosion of self-pulished authors, this question seems to be on the minds of many a reader: "Paperback or ebook?</div>
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I was a slow convert to the ebook--but a convert I am.<br />
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My Kindle and <a href="http://deseretbook.com/bookshelf">Deseret Bookshelf </a> libraries are growing and I often read my glowing books when I should be sleeping.<br />
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I throw my mini iPad in my purse and I know I've got a gaggle of great books to read while I'm waiting for the bus to drop off my kids, or in a waiting room, while my daughter has her piano lesson, or when I am actively avoiding housework ( I find myself reading a lot more these days...)<br />
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Still, there is something about holding a book in my hand . . . the smell, the texture. The sound of the pages turning. I love it. But not as much as I love writing in them.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPNSUAIaBMPxIrkYVkzB9QMgbEfUzHqRxrY7_vTZT6xd61I0DT9xRcZyJR3ggI5fxFT0z-fMvG9ATHLIKMJEwbMO1SDjGaECT7gRL-WF9HL3uF3zAZWA6JRnYgomRpxOh4kh3T4wCvq55/s1600/20140212_163034.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWPNSUAIaBMPxIrkYVkzB9QMgbEfUzHqRxrY7_vTZT6xd61I0DT9xRcZyJR3ggI5fxFT0z-fMvG9ATHLIKMJEwbMO1SDjGaECT7gRL-WF9HL3uF3zAZWA6JRnYgomRpxOh4kh3T4wCvq55/s1600/20140212_163034.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a>I am a highlighting, note taking fool. If something jumps out at me, I have this compulsion to underline it or color it in some form or fashion. It seems to sink the words deeper into my heart and into my mind.<br />
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It makes the words mine--even if they are mine.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtns8QFQYBMsG9b2ZsjqmboRsjySLw-B-CwHBSk4SNtGo-ScdzEN4LfcUWqb1PfOS4s_tHdxPTsABB5k5EDbwmgQjscHZZAFFdT-PwOyha47OFltvrQ5a3E2oacnZbydgM1qkB_hTnadhg/s1600/20140212_162905.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtns8QFQYBMsG9b2ZsjqmboRsjySLw-B-CwHBSk4SNtGo-ScdzEN4LfcUWqb1PfOS4s_tHdxPTsABB5k5EDbwmgQjscHZZAFFdT-PwOyha47OFltvrQ5a3E2oacnZbydgM1qkB_hTnadhg/s1600/20140212_162905.jpg" height="225" width="400" /></a>When I received my first box of<i> 'Does This Insecurity Make Me Look Fat?'</i> I snagged a copy for myself. Yes, I know, I wrote it. But, if I didn't love what is in the book, then why did I write in the first place?<br />
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So, I have my own copy that I read and, you guessed it, mark up. </div>
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Though the words are mine, marking them feels like an 'Amen' of sorts.<br />
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But that's how it is with any book I read. I know it's a good book--even a fiction novel--if I've highlighted the nuggets of truth and wisdom, wit and wonder, that speak directly to me.</div>
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If your considering buying my <a href="http://deseretbook.com/Does-Insecurity-Make-Me-Look-Fat-Michelle-Wilson/i/5117630">ebook</a> (shameless plug, but hey, it is my website) or have already downloaded your copy, I say WONDERFUL and THANK YOU! Stick me in your purse or read me instead of vacuuming. I'm a whole lot more fun!<br />
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But, I've just got to say, that there is something so . . . cool and connecting about a paper book that I hope you consider <a href="http://deseretbook.com/Does-Insecurity-Make-Me-Look-Fat-Michelle-Wilson/i/5113991">ordering </a> or<a href="http://deseretbook.com/stores/index"> picking up a copy</a> for yourself today.<br />
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They aren't just my words, they are words I believe they are His, too.<br />
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So, pick it up. Mark it up. And make it yours.</div>
Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-92110526200001790212014-02-04T14:14:00.000-08:002014-07-08T14:14:34.687-07:00Thank you Utah--Especially Kenna<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="text-align: left;">Well, my first media tour was amazing!</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">I didn't throw up in my publicists car, so I call it a win!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3XN20F6ysx-PpgD56llM5X8DprIYXAdoO-_Kfa5zYO2GmWTkAcAW43JQ3QQ2zWhto4pDAYOFo24ufHeh_haTPV20PFTzT17U6M6pm16DG_o0hMSUmQi8Xw7uz1ZKbpY9BDA6nXyVmH0a/s1600/1797436_591502120934992_1353424005_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb3XN20F6ysx-PpgD56llM5X8DprIYXAdoO-_Kfa5zYO2GmWTkAcAW43JQ3QQ2zWhto4pDAYOFo24ufHeh_haTPV20PFTzT17U6M6pm16DG_o0hMSUmQi8Xw7uz1ZKbpY9BDA6nXyVmH0a/s1600/1797436_591502120934992_1353424005_n.jpg" height="200" width="149" /></a></div>
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(Do I look famous? Not!) </div>
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Among the highlights:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7qEcE_sK7ExAdpe2eD7_iUyvpRiFgEu7wWDFSHxdkCCntHffbVCqFKYbfq1FWz8FZu_mGRVBduQq_X4tLBGcHZIZm51aSvgtMj6PF2J8PWOkMKqHKTr-xK1BjWj7C10zavhcM8yX_AkE/s1600/Chauntel+PCTV+1.30.14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu7qEcE_sK7ExAdpe2eD7_iUyvpRiFgEu7wWDFSHxdkCCntHffbVCqFKYbfq1FWz8FZu_mGRVBduQq_X4tLBGcHZIZm51aSvgtMj6PF2J8PWOkMKqHKTr-xK1BjWj7C10zavhcM8yX_AkE/s1600/Chauntel+PCTV+1.30.14.jpg" height="200" width="149" /></a></div>
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An interview with Chelsea on the the Park City TV Mountain Morning Show.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRV5Jqv33GVKqCYMtepFMDV_U1CcjTabZB66k_PeaIQUkU-Ws8rgzoqBIYYFH7_7uRSSC0VmttOtptDCa2BZz7WHklL1c8CDhIVZT7qni8dh9uBH5Q5DW3JId__LlaJercx61Ym0JPgjWv/s1600/Carole+Mikita+1.30.14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRV5Jqv33GVKqCYMtepFMDV_U1CcjTabZB66k_PeaIQUkU-Ws8rgzoqBIYYFH7_7uRSSC0VmttOtptDCa2BZz7WHklL1c8CDhIVZT7qni8dh9uBH5Q5DW3JId__LlaJercx61Ym0JPgjWv/s1600/Carole+Mikita+1.30.14.jpg" height="200" width="149" /></a></div>
A guest appearance on KSL's "People of Faith" with the great Carole Makita.</div>
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(To be aired in February) </div>
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A fun guest spot on KUTV2 News at Noon with Ron Bird.</div>
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A guest appearance on "The Good Word" Podcast</div>
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I forgot to get a pic here :(</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>BUT</b></span></div>
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I have to say that the highlight of my trip was meeting Kenna.</div>
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<a href="https://scontent-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/t1/1503840_190809724444410_1394244701_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://scontent-b.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-prn2/t1/1503840_190809724444410_1394244701_n.jpg" width="233" /></a> I ran into Kenna when I stopped by one of the Deseret Book stores to sign their stock books. She'd been reading my book at home and had no idea I would be coming into the store. It was a chance meeting that inspired both of us! </div>
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I watched as she worked magic behind the counter with swiftness and a smile--a smile and demeanor that even tamed an upset customer. </div>
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In between customers we were able to chat while I signed books. She inspired me with her story and her strength. It didn't take me long to know for sure that Kenna was, and is, amazing.<br />
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But it was her humble confidence that struck me.<br />
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<a href="https://scontent-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/t1/1391821_179326968926019_614120954_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://scontent-a.xx.fbcdn.net/hphotos-ash3/t1/1391821_179326968926019_614120954_n.jpg" width="212" /></a>She epitomizes what 'Does This Insecurity Make Me Look Fat?' is all about-- the beauty and joy that comes from the confidence in knowing who you are.<br />
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The confidence we gain as we see ourselves, our trials, our lives, and even each other through God's eyes, not only effects how we feel about ourselves, but it can have a direct impact on how others feel when they'er near us.<br />
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Her enthusiasm was contagious, and I found myself wanting to just hang out with her (which I did!) because just being near Kenna made me feel really, really good!</div>
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So, thank you Utah for a wonderful tour!</div>
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But especially, thank you Kenna, for being an amazing example of awesomeness and confidence! </div>
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Somehow I found three bags of opened flour. I decided to fit them all into a Christmas tin, but soon found out there was more flour than tin.<br />
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My first thought was so scoop off the extra flour and bake some cookies, but I thought it best to stick with the task at hand. So I set out to find a way to make the flour fit.<br />
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Then I remembered an old trick I was taught some time ago. I patted the sides of the canister. With each pat the flour inside settled a more. I beat the poor Christmas tin for a good five minutes until it all fit.<br />
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I sat back and admired my strong work when the realization of a spiritual correlation hit me: <i>The blows of life are what it takes to settle us in faith.</i></div>
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In Colossians 1:23 Paul encourages us to "continue in faith, grounded and settled" in the hope of the gospel. </div>
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Paul took more than his fair share of life's beatings--much of which were very literal. He survived stonings, beatings, ship wrecks, snack bites, isolation, prison, just to name a few. And yet, he understood that it is the blows which we receive in life that strengthen our faith, that <i>settles</i> us in our faith.</div>
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1 Peter 5 great advice is given to the flock of God. Among the list is to humble yourself, cast your cares upon Him, be sober and be vigilant because the adversary seeks to devour you (scary, but so true!). </div>
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In verse 10 it says, "But the God of all grace, who hath called us unto His eternal glory by Jesus Christ, after that ye have suffered for a while, make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle you."</div>
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The first part of this verse that struck me was <i>after ye have suffered for a while</i>. Life can be really difficult. We can feel like we are getting beaten on all sides. Sometimes we feel sore and bruised, hurt and tired. And we wonder why God let's it happen to us. But, here's where the last, and most important part, comes in: it is the way the He makes <i>you perfect </i> and how He <i>settles you.</i></div>
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If we come to Him, He will not only consecrate our afflictions for good, but He will make us perfect through them!</div>
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I love when I can fine purpose in my pain! No one likes to hurt! But, when we take a step back and realize that the blows of life can have an eternal positive effect on us, it begins to make sense. We find a way, with God's help, to take the blows and turn to Him. </div>
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We are like little imperfect mortals tins that, if left alone, are unable to accept and hold all that He has for us. But, we with every trial we face and endure, more of Him is settled in us. Through adversity--or more accurately, our <i>responses</i> in that adversity--we become more than we could on our own. We can do more, be more, <i>hold more</i> than if we had lived a life free from affliction and pain.</div>
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He gives purpose to the blows of life, and turns them from negative trials into what they should be: the way to settle our faith in Him, and in ourselves.</div>
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Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-20437932943737222812014-01-06T14:12:00.000-08:002014-07-08T14:12:47.591-07:00"Does This Insecurity Make Me Look Fat?' Blog Tour!!<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Thanks for stopping by! </span></b></div>
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Now that <i>'Does This Insecurity Make Me Look Fat?'</i> is officially released, it's time to pack up for a virtual road trip! I LOVE road trips! Especially ones I can take in my pajamas!</div>
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I hope you'll take a few moments to check out some of these great blogs. And while you're there, take a peek at what they have to say about my book!</div>
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<b><u>Monday January 6th</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.ldswritermom.blogspot.com/2014/01/book-review-does-this-insecurity-make.html">Julie Coulter Bellon</a> </div>
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<a href="http://www.lisaisabookworm.blogspot.com/2014/01/book-review-does-this-insecurity-make.html">Bookworm Lisa</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.mrbuttarsbooks.blogspot.com/2014/01/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat.html">Writing, the Universe and Everything Books</a><span id="goog_334180934"></span><span id="goog_334180935"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a><span id="goog_103880762"></span><span id="goog_103880763"></span><a href="https://www.blogger.com/"></a></div>
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<b><u>Tuesday, January 7th</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://marieleslie.com/insecurity-make-look-fat/">Let Your Life so Shine</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.diony-george.blogspot.com/2014/01/book-review-does-this-insecurity-make.html">The View From My Window</a></div>
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<b><u>Wednesday, January 8th</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.melsshelves.blogspot.com/2014/01/book-review-does-this-insecurity-make.html">Mel's Shelves</a></div>
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<b><u>Thursday, January 9th</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.mariahoagland.blogspot.com/2014/01/review-does-this-insecurity-make-me.html">Asterisks, Pilcrows & Ampersands</a></div>
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<a href="http://mybookaday.blogspot.com/2014/01/blog-tour-does-this-insecurity-make-me.html">A Book a Day</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.booksthattugtheheart.blogspot.com/2014/01/review-does-this-insecuirty-make-me.html">Books That Tug the Heart</a></div>
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<b><u>Friday, January 10th</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.ilovetoreadandreviewbooks.blogspot.com/2014/01/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat-w.html">I Love to Read and Review Books</a><br />
<a href="http://bookgiveaways.blogspot.com/2014/01/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat.html">Book Giveaways by Trying to Stay Calm</a></div>
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<b><u>Monday January 13th</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://chocolateonmycranium.blogspot.com/2014/01/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat.html#.UtQNdp7MSSo">Chocolate on My Cranium</a><br />
<a href="http://gettingyourreadonaimeebrown.blogspot.com/2014/01/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat.html">Getting Your Read On</a><br />
<a href="http://www.ldswomensbookreview.com/wordpress/2014/01/13/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat-by-michelle-wilson-blog-tour/">LDS Women's Book Review</a></div>
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<b><u>Tuesday, January 14th</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.ldsandlovinit.blogspot.com/2014/01/blog-tour-does-this-insecurity-make-me.html">LDS and Lovin' It</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.someoneinmind.blogspot.com/2014/01/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat_14.html">Someone in Mind</a><br />
<a href="http://www.weliketolearnaswego.blogspot.com/2014/01/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat.html">We Like to Learn as We Go</a></div>
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<b><u>Wednesday, January 15th</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.raisingmemories.com/2014/01/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat.html">Raising Memories</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.rachellewrites.blogspot.com/2014/01/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat.html">Rachelle's Writing Spot</a></div>
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<a href="http://shelliproffitthowells.com/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat-by-michelle-wilson/">Shelli Proffitt Howells</a></div>
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<b><u>Thursday, January 16th</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.emileeschristmasjoy.blogspot.com/2014/01/try-it-thursday-review-does-this.html">Sweetly Made</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.literarytimeout.blogspot.com/2014/01/blog-tour-does-this-insecurity-make-me.html">Literary Time Out</a></div>
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<b><u>Friday, January 17th</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://bonnieharris.blogspot.com/2014/01/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat_16.html">Bonnie Gets a Say (Interview)</a><br />
<a href="http://www.swingingonsmallhinges.blogspot.com/2014/01/does-this-insecurity-make-me-look-fat.html">Swinging on Small Hinges</a></div>
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<b><u>Monday January 20th</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.rachellewrites.blogspot.com/2014/01/overcoming-insecurity-guest-post-by.html">Guest Post: Rachelle's Writing Spot</a></div>
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<a href="http://www.fireandicereads.com/2014/01/author-guest-post-looking-michelle-wilson/">Fire and Ice- Guest Post</a></div>
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<b><u>You can also check out other reviews below:</u></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.nauvootimes.com/cgi-bin/nauvoo_column.pl?author=laurie-williams-sowby">Nauvoo Times</a></div>
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Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2863940755712110448.post-22803837645079309742013-11-25T14:10:00.000-08:002014-07-08T14:11:22.837-07:00Real Moment in Time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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There are certain moments in time that remain suspended in our minds as if they had just happened yesterday. Some of them tragic, like watching the twin towers fall. Some are wonderful, like seeing the first man walk on the moon. Moments like these are memorable, not just because they change the world around us, but because of the change they create inside of us.</div>
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There are also those moments of change caused by things that are much closer to home. The moment you lost a loved one. Or the day you were married. Or the time you held your first child.</div>
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And then there are moments that aren't brought on by an external tragedy or joyous event. These moments aren't shared with the world, or perhaps even your family at the time. They are moments of realization and recognition, hope and understanding, or a decision that brings a very real change in yourself. And you know you will never be the same.</div>
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I had one of these moments last year. It was the moment I became a writer.</div>
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It wasn't in a workshop, or at a conference, or a book signing, or at my desk in front of my computer. It wasn't while listening to the encouragement of my husband, a friend, or a fellow writer. It wasn't when I finished the first draft of my soon-to-be rejected manuscript. And it wasn't when it was finally accepted.</div>
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It was before any of that.</div>
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It was while I was alone, swinging on that middle swing, on a chilly, clear, fall night when, for the first time, I thought to myself, "I think I can really do this. I think I can write." And I believed myself.</div>
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That was the moment I changed. I shifted from a person that writes, to a writer. Everything that's happened afterwards has been wonderful, but nothing yet has been as dear to me as that one moment in time where I felt like I became real. Like the Veleveteen Rabbit. I was the Velveteen writer. And I was changed forever.</div>
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I wasn't changed because of the path my writing took me on. That certainly was the product of hard-work, a lot of luck, and even more divine intervention. I changed because I allowed myself to believe that I was something more than my doubts and fears had allowed me to believe. When I <i>thought </i>those words, that I really could be a writer, and I <i>allowed </i>myself to believe in those words--to have faith in and trust myself--that is when something settled inside of me and I <i>felt</i> it. </div>
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I'll admit, it grates on my nerves when I hear people say, "All you have to do is believe in yourself and all your dreams come true." It's not true. Just because you want something, or even believe it will happen, doesn't' mean it will. Much of life is out of our control. We can be the finest artist, the best cook, or the funniest person in the world, but the world might never know it if circumstances out of our control don't allow.</div>
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But, what I do know is that when you allow yourself to believe in yourself, to trust have faith in yourself, and to trust yourself, even though the scenery of your life might not change, <i>you</i> will have changed.</div>
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Happiness doesn't lie in what happens to you, but in how you feel about yourself. I'm not just talking about self-esteem here. I'm talking about truly believing that you are capable of doing something. Whether or not it actually happens is different. But <i>you </i>can know it about yourself, and that knowledge, that faith and belief in yourself, is what will bring you the greatest joy.</div>
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Belief is powerful.It makes things real. That's why, for me, the moment to believe I was a writer is so special to me. It stands out as a very real moment in time where I chose to believe in that part of myself, and it changed me forever.</div>
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Michelle Wilsonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16890410293036794998noreply@blogger.com0