Stronger

My theory is that most human beings are afraid of change. At least most of the female gender that I know is. 80-year-old Beula, 15-year old Melissa, and I have all been scared stiff by it in the last few weeks. The odd things is how desperately we cling to the old way of doing things even if that makes us unhappy, lonely, unhealthy, or needy.
I'd like to hope that lately I'm embracing the new phase my life seems to be evolving into. Really letting go, trying to find realistic hopes and dreams, realizing how far I still have to go. Yet there's gotta be something in the fact that I finally deleted that picture from my phone, didn't send that text message, and actually made it to the one month goal. Maybe I'm stronger than I thought.

Revealing the teenager in me

You know, it's funny. All day at work I try to help teenage girls with major depression deal with their emotions. From an outside view it's easy to tell them how to deal and how to cope, but then once in a while I find myself feeling more like them. My heart sometimes hurts for different reasons, but still sometimes I just need a moment to cry too. I'm definitely not grown up all the way yet.
My heart breaks for the girls I work with. One has had a hard week because her mom told she didn't want her home for Christmas. She grew up in a trailer park, neglected and abused ... and even now she doesn't feel much love from her family. I don't think I really know loneliness.
The other day another of the girls took me aside and gave me her advice. She told me I needed to be more assertive. This is from the girl who a month ago hated anytime I would tell her to do anything. I never thought such small things could mean so much, but a hug from her, or a few minutes conversation makes all the times I've struggled there seem a little more worth it. It even helps me to not dread too much spending 14 hours on Christmas eve and all Christmas with them. If they can't be home for Christmas, I won't feel too bad about missing half of Christmas day with my family.

I hate that when I start to feel like I have become a part of something, it's time to leave. That's the life of a single young woman I guess, becoming attached to something or someone and then having to break out that part of your heart and let it go.
I want to tell myself it's worth the pain, that having loved or cared or belonged to something changes me enough for it to be worth it. But sometimes I wonder. Mostly I wonder when I'll ever get to care about those around me and not have to walk away.

I had an amazing experience today. Our ward choir came to sing at Heritage, the place where I work. One of the songs was duet that was beautiful and filled with the spirit. (My) Those kids needed to feel that so much. I wasn't the only one with eyes brimming with tears. That is the constant, I guess. That is what doesn't change. The Lord, and my Savior Jesus Christ and the joy that comes from sharing his love with others. Yes, the transitions come, the changes are inevitable, yet those around me will continue to be the constant ocean of many different people who swell and recede in diverse yet beautiful ways to fill my life with love.

Biography

Well, it's been a little while since I've written. I've been writing my biography. It's an assignment for my institute class, but I thought I'd post it on here... a shortened version at least. If you want to the long version ask me. I don't suppose many people read this blog. And of those few who read it I don't suppose many are interested seven pages about me. But if you are... I'll let you read the long version.

Here it is:
Devany was born June 12, 1984 at a small army hospital in Tooele, Utah. She is the first daughter of Deven Kay and Betseylee Browning.

Devany’s heritage includes the legacy of many Mormon Pioneers. Her 4th great grandfather was Jonathan Browning, the renowned gun maker of Illinois who after his conversion to the church moved to Nauvoo and was essential to the westward preparations at that time. His son, John Moses Browning, was the founder of the world changing Browning Arms company.

Her ancestors' legacy of sacrifice and faith continued into the family of her father. Her father's family is a very tight knit family, strong in the LDS faith. Her mother is a first generation convert to the church. Growing up in a Catholic home, Betsey was introduced to the LDS faith at age 21.

Her brother Timothy was born 14 months after Devany was born. At age 2, Devany and her family moved to Clinton, UT into a small house her dad helped to build. The more notable events that happened in her life during her two years there included breaking her leg when she fell of a swing, and her younger sister Charity being born.

Her family then spent less than a year at a home in Chubbuck, Idaho where her brother Joshua was born. Devany’s favorite part of living there was the ice cream truck in the afternoon. Her family frequently made Sunday afternoon trips to Grandma and Grandpa’s house, who lived in neighboring Pocatello. This tradition continued during the five years her family Pocatello and now how become a regular holiday occurrence. Devany loved playing with her cousins near her in age, Jennifer and Bethany. Birthdays and baptisms were always fun to celebrate with her extended family.

Devany’s family moved to Pocatello Creek Road before she started kindergarten. Devany thrived on learning and was anxious to for everyday of school at Edahow Elementary. She had already learned how to read before starting kindergarten and enjoyed her teachers: Mrs. Jensen, Mrs Iasenides, Mrs. Louise, Mrs. Guyon, and Mrs. Armstrong. She also enjoyed playing with her friend Cassi who lived near her home. She and her brothers and sisters loved being outdoors and explored every inch of their 5 acre property. During the summer after 2nd grade her youngest brother Eric was born. At school she and her best friend, Dayna, were inseparable until she moved in the summer after 4th grade.

Devany was a serious, shy, intellectual child who enjoyed playing outdoors. She hated piano practice, but enjoyed playing with her doll house. In the Summer of 1993, Devany's cousin Jeralee was abducted and murdered. This event had a deep effect on her. She wrote the following in October 2002 (modified December 2008) to describe her experience:

I can remember a night, over ten years ago, when I knew something was wrong. Eventually, my parents told me, in a way that I could understand at the age of nine, that my fun outgoing cousin, Jeralee, was missing, and most likely had been abducted that summer afternoon. Jeralee's face on the reward posters, and her picture on the front page of the newspaper confirmed the terrible reality of her disappearance. The search begun that evening turned into a community hunt that lasted for almost a week. I remember those grim days, the prayer at the chapel, the flowers that filled my aunt and uncle's front room and kitchen, the pink bows on the car antennas, the front page news stories, the funeral at the overflowing chapel, and Jeralee's sister, Jennifer, crying at the grave side.

Mostly I remember the feelings of love and hope that permeated our family, our community, and all those affected by Jeralee's death. Some of those involved questioned this. How could my aunt and uncle tell the media only of their gratitude for the support of the community instead of focusing on seeking justice? Why didn't they feel outraged at the man who had taken their oldest daughter from them? How could their faith bring comfort to their children who had lost their kindest sister? Those incredible testimonies of love and faith in a plan of salvation and eternal families have been indelibly inscribed on my heart. Those testimonies are now my testimony. That foundation of faith is my foundation that helps me to withstand the times when Satan tries to send seeds of doubt into my mind.

In 1994 her family relocated to Petaluma, CA for her Dad’s new job. It was a huge change for Devany. The weather was frequently rainy, and she found herself in a new environment where other girls asked why she wore a CTR ring and why she couldn’t watch PG-13 movies. She did have some friends and enjoyed her classes and teacher Mr. Yates. Half way through the school year her family moved to a permanent house around the time her Dad found better a better employment offer in Utah. So, her family spent only a short year in Petaluma and found themselves in Utah before the start of the next school year.

This new home was in the beautiful small town of Mountain Green. This rural community was situated in Morgan valley and frequently place quiet solitude for Devany. She attended Morgan Middle School for 6th-8th grades. This was difficult adjustment time in her life where she often found escape in reading and music.

Around this time she also met one of her best friends, Emily Tenney. During the summers and after school they would spend time at her house doing lots of nothing. She also enjoyed associations with her Young Women’s leaders and Young women’s activities, especially Girls’ camp.

By the time Devany reached High School age, she had become a very self sufficient, independent teenager. She enjoyed saving her money from babysitting, and saved for a band trip to Washington D.C. her freshman year. As soon she was old enough she got a job at Taco Time. She worked there during High School and the summer after her freshman year of college.

During her early teenage years, Devany’s testimony of the gospel of Jesus Christ also developed more fully. She spent time reading the Book of Mormon and other church books, including the Work and the Glory series. She was blessed with experiences that deepened her testimony of Joseph Smith and the Prophet of her childhood and growing up years-- President Gordon B. Hinckley. Particularly memorable for her was the open house of the Bountiful temple and the broadcast dedication of the Palmyra temple, as well as experiences in nature. Her spiritual nature has been deeply nourished by her time spent in the temples of the Lord, including Seattle, Taipei, Rexburg, and many throughout Utah.


During her senior year of high school Devany decided to attend BYU-Idaho. She loved her freshman year of college, including the Orchestra tour to Arizona. She savored spiritual experiences and slowly became more self confident. She enjoyed her roommates, making friendships and developing better relationships with her family and friends.

From Fall 2004 – June 2005, Devany spent her last year of college at BYU. She lived at Southridge apartments with her friend from home Brooke Merrill. She enjoyed her classes, especially Shakespeare and Humanities 201 with Dr. Parry. She worked at the Skyroom Restaurant part time. She also enjoyed her ward and friendships she developed during that time.

She had planned to leave on her mission soon after graduation, but needed to earn money. So she spent June- October working in West Yellowstone at a hotel and restaurant. Though she did earn the money she needed this was a difficult experience. She was grateful to return home and finish preparations for her mission.

But once again things did not go as planned. She did receive a mission call in February of 2006, but she also started dating a boy she had met at country dancing. She wrote this about the experience:
This was the first “head over heals” that lasted for longer than a week…the first roses someone gave me; The first time someone unrelated to me told me “I love you”; my first trip to Moab; the first time I caught a goal in ultimate Frisbee; the first break your heart, depressed for two weeks, can’t help but yell and scream and cry until you eat some ice cream kind of break up. The best thing about that breakup though was that it allowed him to marry the right girl and me to not marry the wrong boy.

She finally found the right time to serve her mission and prepared to leave the next year. Her testimony was strengthened by the awareness she felt God had for her and her mission decision. During this time she worked for a family as Nanny who had 3 children with disabilities. She also spent several months working as a kindergarten teacher at Spectrum Academy, a school for children with autism.

served a mission in Taiwan, Taichung (Taizhong )mission. She entered the MTC on February 7, 2006. She enjoyed learning Mandarin Chinese with her district there. She left for Taiwan at the end of April. She was assigned to the Xitun, Zhanghua, Nantou and Zhunan areas. She had 10 companions in Taiwan, 3 of whom were native missionaries. She served under President and Sister Watterson until June 2006, and under President and Sister Hoer until her release. She returned home August 5, 2007.

On July 30 in her last letter home she wrote:
“I'm grateful to have served as a mission in Taiwan. Every phase on the mission has had it's own challenges, but I have always been well taken care of by the Lord and our mission leaders. I realized this week how impossible it is to describe what I've learned or much about how mission experience. There is so much and it is often deeper than words. But I guess I will be doing my best to share what I have learned when I return home. I'm looking forward to the beautiful mountains, the strength of my friends and family at home, and the opportunity to see what the Lord has in store for my future. Yesterday our investigator Amy asked me what I had learned from serving a mission. I told her I've learned "to serve the Lord and do what he asks of me" (of course in Chinese) I'm grateful for this time of tutoring from the Lord and from companions, leaders, and of course you, my family, and friends who have supported me.”

She returned home and found herself in a new life as a returned missionary. She wrote:
I adjusted to being home quickly. Quickly enough to buy a few pairs of heels, get a cute haircut, and feel as if I had stepped into an old, but different reality. My new life included country dancing, my best friend and younger brother‘s weddings, and some sense of excitement in my newly returned missionary status. I found myself back in Provo, working at Heritage treatment center as a counselor for 14 teenage girls, and surviving the dating life.

Currently Devany resides in Provo and continues to grow in her experiences as a counselor for teenager girls and life as a young adult. She is excited for what lies ahead.

I decided to put some songs that have meant something to me or describe a stage of my life in a playlist.  Hope you enjoy them.

1.  When You Say Nothing at All is my fav song.  I don't know exactly why.... I don't have a favorite book or movie or color, but this song has been my favorite since I was 12 or 13.  It's funny that this song has yet to be associated with anyone in particular in my life, but maybe one day it will be.  

2.  I discovered Beautiful Disaster the other day.  It was actually the inspiration for this playlist.  The whole song as a representation of me is not very accurate, but different parts of it relate to different stages of my life in ways it would take a whole other post to explain.  

3.   Here Without You:  I loved someone once.  I put 18 of my favorite songs on a CD for him when he went away for a few weeks.  He told me this was the one song he put on repeat and listened to while he was falling asleep. It's been a long time and he is now in love with the girl that became his wife, but that stage in my life has a lot of good memories.

4.  Dusk and Summer: I watched my boyfriend play this song on his guitar and started to fall for him, yet at same time knowing the lyrics to this song applied to us more than I wanted to believe.  Now, instead, of a boyfriend who plays this song, I have a kind friend and another song for this list.  

5.  Ok, so I'm not sure exactly what the lyrics to Higher mean, but I know that I really liked it in High School.  I think it was the first branching out for me from the country music genre, so I thought that was important enough to earn it a place here. 

6.  One Boy, One Girl is one of the other daydreams I've had since I was a little girl and heard this song on the school bus.  I even heard this song live at a Collin Raye concert at a BYU-Idaho.  I loved BYU-I, I still want to have twins, and once had a good friend put this song on a CD for me the day after a sweet night of country dancing.  So it's definitely a good one to me, even with all its sentimentality.

7.   That's Where it Is:  The song I hope one day will actually belong on this playlist.  

Just when I think things can't get worse... the sign on my landlord's door says "closed for surgery". As if it's not enough that I can't find the keys to my car; the car I bought last week and don't have a spare for and the key that will cost $150+ to replace. You'd think I'd a least be able to get a key to get into my apartment so I can take a nap for the 1.5 hours I have in between my 14 hours of work today. Honestly "closed for surgery"? Did they all decide to go to the hospital at the same time? Can't they have surgery on different days? or all the hours they aren't open? how about thanksgiving holiday? I won't need to get into my apartment then. Good thing too. I'm not sure the next time I will actually be able to keep track of a key that I own for longer than 24 hours.

"Life goes easy on me... most of the time"

...and sometimes life is just a bit harder than I anticipated. When you're having a bad day it's funny what things make it worse. Like the teenage girl at work whose insults I really shouldn't let get to me, but do a little anyway. Or the perfectly valid call to change that somehow makes my self confidence take a nose dive. I've decided I'm going to stop praying for patience, because just like they tell you in church, your prayers are answered with opportunities to develop those qualities you so desperately lack. That process of refinement hurts, but it's one of those things that happens and then you look back and and are glad it did.

I'm listening to a song...it makes me want to cry. So instead of crying I'm writing on my blog. Is this good therapy? not really sure.
Have you ever had a moment that you know one day you'll want to live again, but won't be able to? And so you either desperately try to squeeze all the happiness and satisfaction out of that moment, or just put "this won't last forever" thought to the back of your mind where you store the rest of your heartaches and embarrassing moments and go on like nothing happened. I have those kind of moments every once in awhile.

Yesterday I was in my institute class and we were talking about death... and of course the happier part of it all, the hope of resurrection. We read this poem that I remember just blowing me away with emotion the first time it was read in general conference last year. It written by the husband of someone who had died in an airplane crash in Brazil.

If I knew this would be the last time I would watch you sleep,
I would hug you tighter. I would plead with the Lord to protect you.
If I knew this would be the last time I saw you walk out the door,
I would hug and kiss you and call you back to hug and kiss you one more time.

If I knew this would be the last time I would hear your voice in prayer,
I would record every gesture, every look, every smile, every one of your words,
So that I could listen to it later, day after day.

If I knew this would be the last time,
I would spend an extra minute or two to tell you, "I love you," instead of assuming you already knew it.

If I knew this would be our last time, our last moment,
I would be by your side, spending the day with you instead of thinking,
"Well, I'm sure other opportunities will come, so I can let this day go by."

I don't have you here with me, and today is the last day we have—our farewell.
Therefore I would like to say how much I love you,
And I hope you never forget it.

Tomorrow is not promised to anyone, young or old.
Today might be your last chance to hold tight to the hand of the one you love and show all you feel.

If you are waiting for tomorrow, why not do it today?
Because if tomorrow never comes, you certainly will regret for the rest of your life

Not having spent some extra time for a smile, a conversation, a hug, a kiss,
Because you were too busy to give that person what ended up being their last wish.

Then hug tight today the one you love, your friends, your family, and whisper in their ears how much you love them and want them close to you.
Use your time to say,
"I'm sorry,"
"Please,"
"Forgive me,"
"Thank you,"
Or even,
"That was nothing,"
"It's all right,"

Because if tomorrow never comes, you will not have to regret today.
The past doesn't come back, and the future might not come!¹⁰

Yesterday it wasn't like I felt an impending death of someone I love, but I just felt like I needed to be better aware of blessings of the relationships I have in my life. They are wonderful and more than I deserve. The Lord is merciful to me. And when I think about that, I want to love more and care more and forget myself more; and suddenly I find myself not wanting to let go of any moment.

Growning old

Beula tells me almost every time I see her that I should never grow old. “Dying would be better than this,” she says. I fix meals for Ed and Beula 3 times a week. Yesterday as I was getting ready to go, I couldn’t find my car keys. Finally Beula asked Ed to check his pockets. Keys found. “I thought they were mine,” he honestly answered. You see, Ed suffers from memory loss and Beula suffers from an aging body. I’m not sure which is worse.

I often wonder 60 years from now how I’ll be. It’s rather difficult to avoid aging despite Beula’s warnings. I've decided that dying holding the hand of my husband who has the someone’s else car keys in his pocket wouldn’t be all that bad, as long as he remembers my name.

Trying to discover why I don’t want to eat alone

I’ve discovered an interesting phenomenon about myself lately. I don’t have much of an appetite when I’m by myself. 12 o’clock comes around and there’s a slight rumbling in my stomach. For a moment I consider the options in my fridge for lunch: leftover rice, ham sandwich, or chicken cordon bleu that is way too old. As suddenly as it came my appetite leaves and I gladly dismiss it. I busy myself with doing my hair, cleaning my room, and the internet. Somehow I convince my stomach to just wait until dinner when I can eat with people around me… the girls at work, my latest dating interest, or occasionally my sister.

I know it’s unhealthy but it’s something that stems from something deeper inside. The real problem isn’t the lack of options in my cupboard and fridge, it’s the idea of having to fix a small meal for myself and eat it alone.

I wasn’t like this back in college. I would pride myself on taking the time to fix something good to eat, look forward to weekly shopping trips to Broulims, and spend way to much money on my weekly grocery bill. Nor did I ever crave company as child. I always shied away from it.

What about being a 24 year old college grad and RM has changed me? Was it really just the 18 months of never being alone to eat or taking time to fix a decent meal? Or is it the state of emotional confusion that I find myself in at least half of the time I’m awake everyday?

Who have I become in the three months since I’ve been home? Why have I let myself become defined by my status and picture on face book or the number of times I get asked out in a week? What is that keeps me so wrapped up in my emotions and the confusion of my heart? And how do those emotions seep from my heart to quiet the appetite of my stomach? Perhaps it is enough for now to recognize that I'll have to try eating more than fruit snacks even when I'm not hungry.

Hobbies I'd like to have someday

Photography
Painting
Water aerobics
Crochet hats
Jewelry making
Playing the cello
A member of a symphony
Calligraphy
Paper Mache
Chinese writing class
Pilates