I just have crazy dreams, okay?

Remember how I like to post crazy dreams I’ve had on my blog? And remember how my psyche is inexplicably morbid? Well, the dream I had last night is too good to pass up. I just have to share it.  

I dreamed that the people in my neighborhood had just survived a nuclear holocaust, but all of our houses were destroyed. There was rubble everywhere, and my family was living in what used to be our kitchen, because we still had some food.

There were also thieves roaming the streets, trying to steal our food. I think I beat some people up. Because no way were they stealing food from my family. Not with me around. No, sir.

The thieves went away, and everyone in the neighborhood was starting to figure out what to do next. We were picking up the pieces, so to speak, and life was starting to look good again. The sun was shining, the grass was green, children were laughing, we were all talking, and feeling like we’d be able to move on and have normal lives. We were just really bonding. It was a like a post-apocalyptic neighborhood barbeque. Except for the part that we were all in rags and we were roasting hot dogs over piles of embers.  

Then a small child pointed up to the sky at a helicopter. At first we were like, “Oh look! A helicopter!” But then the helicopter plummeted to the earth, and we all knew we were going to die. There was an explosion, and we all started running away from the fire as fast as we could. But the explosion kept rolling toward us.

It was like this:

{picture from National Geographic}

Or this:  

{picture courtesy mfran}

I was outpacing my family, and there was—I kid you not—epic, sad, soul-stirring music going on in my dream like we were in a movie. Kind of like that music in “Return of the King” where Sam is carrying Frodo up Mount Doom. “I can’t carry it for you! But I can carry you!” So tender. 

Except the music was not as triumphant. Because we were all going to die. And there was no one to carry us up the mountain. And no eagles either, for that matter.

I kept looking back to see where my family was. My mom was just behind me, but I couldn’t see anyone else.

Then, my mom looked up at me, raised her hand in farewell, and said, “I love you.” I knew she was about to die, and that I was going to die next, because it went all dark.

. . . and then the credits started rolling.

I’m dead serious. There were movie credits in my dream.

Which makes my dream not as sad as it could otherwise be. I mean, it was only a movie, right? A movie within a dream? (ooh . . . it’s like Inception.)

And we all got to die together. Kind of like the Pevensie family in The Last Battle. (Except I don’t know if my sister Sarah was in my dream. Sarah, you could be Susan. Sorry. I still love you. And I’d carry you up Mount Doom if you had to destroy the One Ring. Dead serious. My love is that deep.)  

Ask the Future Missionary

Last week I had the opportunity to talk to the Laurels (16-18-year-old girls) in my ward about missions.

Before the activity, they wrote down questions and asked me . . . well, basically anything they wanted to about missions: what brought me to the decision, how did I know it was right for me, when did I know it was right for me, how have I prepared, what am I scared for, etc., etc.

I was blown away by how profound some of their questions were.

Guys, I was in tears reading some of their questions. (Which was why it was a good thing I got to read them beforehand. Then again, I cried during the activity too, which I guess just proves I am a case.)

Reading their questions brought back all of the feelings of making the decision--the fear, the joy, the worry, the peace. It was good for me to remember how I got to my decision. And it will be good to remember that on my mission when days are hard.

Besides the great questions about missions, there were some questions that made me laugh. Like,

What advice do you have about dating? Oh honey, you're asking the wrong person.

I'd also like to thank whoever wrote these questions:

Yes, it says "Sister (Awesome) Armknecht." Bless you, child. Bless you. You're awesome, too.



Anyway. I'm grateful for the opportunity I had to speak to them. I feel like we really don't talk very much about sister missionary work in the Church. We talk about missionary work in general a ton, and the men in the Church usually get at least one talk per Priesthood session about their priesthood responsibility to serve missions.

But we don't talk about sisters' decisions to serve very often. I know that going on a mission is not for every sister, so maybe that's a reason why. But there is peace and strength found in discussion, and it's helpful to realize that not everyone's journey to that decision to serve a mission is the same. And it's important to realize that almost everyone of us has similar fears about going, and similar hardships and joys on the mission.

So--if you're reading this--thanks girls, for letting me talk with you last week. I hope it was helpful. And remember that life's going to be better than you ever dreamed. Harder, too, but better.


****also, I am fully aware that I've never posted about coming to my decision to serve a mission. I don't think I ever will, to be honest. The process was long, painful, inspiring, humbling, and too personal to put on the web. But if you ever want to know the story, I'd be happy to share it with you personally, one-on-one. Just let me know.

Scripture Power

One of my life goals is to be a "sister scriptorian."

I love these quotes from President Kimball:

"We want our sisters to be scholars of the scriptures. . . . You need an acquaintanceship with his eternal truths for your own well being, and for the purposes of teaching your own children and all others who come within your influence."

"We want our homes to be blessed with sister scriptorians--whether you are single or married, young or old, widowed or living in a family. . . . Become scholars of the scriptures--not to put others down, but to lift them up!" (both quotes can be found in the March 2010 Visiting Teaching Message here.)

Also, look at this cool quote from President Benson:

"I have a vision of thousands of missionaries going into the mission field with hundreds of passages memorized from the Book of Mormon so that they might feed the needs of a spiritually famished world." ~October 1988 General Conference

I've made it a goal to memorize hundreds of scriptures and to be a sister scriptorian, to not only bless my own life, but others' as well. It's a lofty goal, to be sure. But a noble one.

Recently, I've taken to memorizing scriptures while exercising. It's fun and pretty effective. And by memorizing scriptures, I completed another goal on my bucketlist!

#12-Become a "sister scriptorian." Have at least 100 scriptures entirely memorized. 

Becoming a sister scriptorian is an on-going process. I'm pretty sure it will take me a lifetime to complete. But I feel pretty good about having one hundred scriptures memorized. I just hope I keep them memorized.

Also . . . I'm about to have another goal crossed off my bucketlist:

#2--Serve a mission--whether as a 21-year-old or with my husband. 

The husband will have to wait for awhile. But the mission--that's coming closer and closer every day. Aieee!

Confessions of an Introvert

Those of you who know me know how shy I can be.

I often prefer to dwell in my own thoughts rather than express them . . .
and then I make sure that everything I say is carefully expressed.

Meetings and parties drain me.

I'd rather read than go to a sporting event (generally speaking).

I'm a daydreamer.

Sometimes I think I'd be content to live in an ivory tower my entire life. Or as a meditating hermit on Timpanogos, with the secret of life on the tip of my tongue.

But then there are days like today, when I realize how much I need people.

Like when I see friends who I haven't seen in awhile. I talk with them, and their conversation refreshes me.

I'm learning that being with people is healing.

When I'm out of my shell, I find I'm just as happy as when I'm cooped up inside, listening to Bach.

The trick is getting out of that shell.

how i've been feeling lately

"I am half-sick of shadows," said 

                                 The Lady of Shalott." ~ The Lady of Shalott, Alfred Lord Tennyson 

{John William Waterhouse}

{picture courtesy of flickr user mbell1975}

Vanity of vanities . . .

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful maiden. 

 She liked to stand around in fields . . .

and sit on rocks, 

and sometimes she'd spin around for no other reason besides the fact that she loved life. 

 She also loved to laugh,

which was more proof that she loved life. And dry fields. 

 This maiden also loved to read and write, 

and sometimes she combined her two loves of reading and sitting on rocks. 

 Other times the young maiden would sit in a dry field and pray, and look very dignified and contemplative with her long, brown hair. 

Then one day, the maiden decided to cut her hair.

Nine inches of it. And it was rather sad, because the maiden had become attached to her long, beautiful brown hair, and now she couldn't even put her hair in a ponytail. But she decided to cope, because after all, she believed in simplicity . . . 

especially when it was for a good cause. 

(photos--except for the one of me with short hair--courtesy of the lovely Saren Johnson of Wren's Flight Photography) 

Pre-Mission Bucketlist

Here are some things I need to/want to do before I leave on my mission. More specifically, these are things that I bet you had no idea I wanted to do (listed in order of could possibly happen to no way is this ever going to happen):

-Two words: Dance Party!

- Chew as much Shaun White gum as possible. Because it is the best gum ever. Partly because it tastes delicious. Mostly because it has Shaun White on the front.

- Watch this video and videos like it ad nauseum.
Love Divine Comedy videos. And this one's a keeper. I mean, dance party in the Testing Center? Awesome. 

- See War Horse the movie. I need to see it. Need to.

- Watch the last episode of BBC's Sherlock. Again, needs to happen.

- Use as many italics as I can. 


- Go to Divine Comedy's January show.

- Make chocolate croissants.

-Find Narnia in my closet.

- Learn how to speak whale.

- Learn how to speak Russian-whale. Because I bet that's what narwhals speak. And possibly beluga whales. And who wouldn't want to talk with a baby beluga whale?

- Find an open field and start singing, "The hills are alive with the sound of music!"

- While I'm at it, find a retired, widower Naval officer with 7 children and teach them the joy of music.

- Finish those novels I've been working on recently. (And yes, finding that Naval officer with 7 children is far more likely than finishing these novels.)

- Get an appendectomy. Just kidding. Well, kinda. I don't want to go through surgery three weeks before I go into the MTC. But one of my worst nightmares is having to go through surgery in a foreign country. So let's just pray that I don't get appendicitis. Ever. But especially while I'm on my mission.

-Grow all my hair back before I leave. Guys, I chopped it all off. And it's so weird. I miss my hair!!!!!

. . . also, I just realized that I am a pre-mi now. I always associated that nickname with 18-year-old boys who decided that the milk chug challenge was the best idea since Call of Duty. But I'm a pre-mission girl now. Weird. Hopefully I'm more mature than most eighteen-year-old boys. But with some of the things on my pre-mission bucketlist, maybe I'm not as mature as I hope.