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...

I feel like this is what people usually think I do when I tell them I write on a blog, when really, I usually just write what I'm thinking about. And there's gonna be that in this post as well, but it's been like, two months since I posted on this blog. And I'm sure you've all been so concerned! Wondering if I'm okay! Wondering if I sustained brain damage and that's why I stopped writing! Well, let me clarify: I am good. No life-threatening injuries have been sustained (yet or ideally ever, pray for me). I didn't drop off the face of the earth because I wasn't doing well. Honestly, I wasn't sure what to write about after Europe. Maybe a little piece of me was even worried that none of you would like to hear my thoughts anymore, because they're not fancy Europe-inspired thoughts. But there have been some things going on in my life, and some thoughts I've been having, and I'd just like to share with you, in a random assortment th...

Dear Emily, Right now, you aren't sure of anything. You're not as bright-eyed as you were. You're a little jaded, a bit hurt by life and the world. And you're not sure if you can ever be the person you were. I'm here to tell you that you can't. You can't be the person you were anymore, and that is beautiful. You don't know what's coming and I can't prepare you for it, but looking back to where you are, I can only tell you the things you'll want to remember. We'll start with the kids. You'll want to remember how they pronounce the English words. You'll want to take a lot of videos. And pictures. And you'll want to remember the times they laughed at your goofiness.  You'll want to remember the considerate translation of your host mom and how your host dad brags about you to all their friends. "She understands Italian so well!" "She sings so well!" And you'll want to remember their fr...

I believe that life is made for the moments you run to, climb to, or work for. I've made plenty of memories like that. Just last week I sat here writing the tale of a bell tower that I climbed just for the view. The city of Rome was jam packed with running from historical monument to historical monument just so I could see what I came there for. But there are also other moments. The moments where you can find some rest from your adventures and make a piece of home. And for all the miles I have traveled, and all the memories I've made, I think some of my favorites will be the ones where I wasn't running. I was just breathing. I don't even know where I went last Saturday. It was somewhere on Lake Maggiore, for a picnic with the host son's class. And I didn't get very many photos, because it was warm and golden and gray and green, and it felt like a gift in a way. I know that sounds kind of silly, but it was kind of like that same God who touched Adam'...

Open your eyes and see what you can with them before they close to you forever. I stood this weekend on the rooftop of a pink-and-green bell tower overlooking what felt like millions of red Tuscan rooftops and gripped the metal cage boxing us all in, keeping us safe but also keeping us from taking flight, which is kind of what I felt like I wanted to do. As I pressed my forehead to it and watched the golden light cast hazy shadows over the old, beautiful buildings, this thought came into my mind. It's a line from "All the Light We Cannot See", a book by Anthony Doerr. Interestingly enough, the title of the book has also been in my thoughts. It's an idea in itself; an implication that there is light unseen, but that doesn't make the light any less there. There's something hopeful, comforting about that -- and motivating too. That there is light to seek, that everything is more than just what you see, that every person is magic inside.  It makes me feel swept...

I don't know where to start this. I don't even really know what to write about, because every time I try I find myself in a kind of daydream -- a vast, crooked mountain watches over a little town tucked into a valley that is green and bursting with wildflowers. Sounds idyllic, but it's the reality of Zermatt, Switzerland, where you can find the Matterhorn: a towering specter of a rock jutting high above the land.  It's quite a lonely peak, bleak and weather-beaten. I've heard that often it's obscured by clouds, but I was lucky. When I visited, the sun never stopped shining. There was a cool breeze through the canyon. And a polka concert welcomed me at the town center as I stepped off the train. Overall, my timing cannot be characterized as anything but providential.  It was worth the price of the train ticket just to be there. If you're following along with me in my travels, you might remember how last week I was in Rome -- and there is so much that is bea...