publishing peace

On a cold day in March, a girl sat on a train, feeling like her stomach was tied into knots. She didn't know at the time, but she was days away from what would become the most difficult breakup up to that point in her life; what she did know was that something was wrong, and she didn't know how to fix it. She knew it wasn't a coincidence when she saw the missionaries. They came in droves from the bus to the train, wheeling their many suitcases into the train car. Their eyes were bright, maybe a little nervous. They were heading by train from the Missionary Training Center to the Salt Lake City International Airport, where they'd fly to their respective missions. The two that sat down across from our heroine were going to Cambodia. One was tall, with glasses; the other was silent, shorter, blond. "Hey," the one with the glasses said. "Hi," she said back, trying not to meet their eyes. As the train pulled out of the station, the elder asked he

I wish I was better at knowing how to begin this post. As is standard for this project of mine, I'm fixing to talk about something that is maybe not super easy to put into words. As a deeply mortal, extremely human, astonishingly flawed person, I find this a pretty daunting task. I've started and restarted this so many times I don't even know what's going to become of it; I'm just gonna write and see what happens. I guess firstly I just want to be clear on the reason I choose to share what I do. As with most social media elements, what you see on my blog is not the full, unabridged version of my life. There's a lot more that happens than can be read about here. I'm a part-time student, a part-time employee, and a full-time friend, family member, and person, and a lot of what colors my life is the people that I am blessed to experience it with. I don't write about them very often, at least not specifically and/or categorically. That's not because I d