Six. One. Six.

Thanksgiving time is always full of nostalgia for me, now more than ever.

Around six years ago, the day before Thanksgiving, I got a letter that changed the course of my life, as I found out I would be serving a mission for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints in Donetsk, Ukraine. The experiences I had there, the people I met there, touched my soul in ways I never would have thought possible. Six years later, I can't throw it away.

[With my mission call, six years ago.]

Almost a year ago exactly, Sam got down on one knee on a beautiful, sunny, blue-skied, November Sunday and proposed to me in a quiet Maryland park. He didn't know he was going to propose that day until he woke up and thought, "I'm going to propose to Megan today." We had talked about getting married, but we were both expecting a later engagement. But he proposed. Spontaneously, without a ring (but with a call to my father). Without warning. He proposed. And I wouldn't have had it any other way.

[About an hour after getting engaged.]

And then, six months ago (exactly), Sam and I got married on a sunny day in late May. And soon after that, he moved up with me to Princeton. It has been quite the ride. I find it is hard to talk about marriage on social media (or even in my journal) without descending into cliches, and I will try not to here. But I will say that I am grateful for Sam's courage, curiosity, and kindness. He is incredible for making the choice not only to love me, but to move up here to Princeton, despite the fact that it took him away from connections and friends. We've both learned a lot these past six months. They have been beautiful, stretching, and deepening in ways both expected and unexpected.

So this weekend, I am grateful. I am grateful for graceful November days that bring surprises and bright May days that bubble over with goodness and happiness.  I am grateful for opportunities to learn and grow and stretch and become more than you realized. I am grateful for humility. I am grateful for dreams. I am grateful for a body that can walk, run, dance, kiss, embrace, cry, laugh, blush, touch, eat, and sleep. I am grateful for the support and care of family and friends. I am grateful that none of us is ever alone, and for connections that span across miles, years, and differences. I am grateful for eternal possibilities and capacities. And I am grateful for the ways love feels--comfortable, terrifying, powerful, simple, familiar, and new.

Wedding photos by Justin Hackworth

Five.

Five years ago exactly, on a Wednesday in late November--the Wednesday before Thanksgiving, in fact--my life changed forever.

I received a mission call to serve an LDS mission in Donetsk, Ukraine. I made the decision to serve after careful thought, consideration, and prayer. It was one of the hardest decisions I have ever made in my life. And serving that mission is still probably the hardest thing I've done in my life so far.

But it's also one of the most important. It set the trajectory for my future. That mission is holy to me, for it is one of those sacred spots of earth and time where I came to know Jesus.

I have written a lot about my mission on this blog and elsewhere. I guess it's true what they say. You can take the girl out of the mission, but you can't take the mission out of the girl.

But today, five years after receiving that call, I simply want to say that I am deeply humbled and deeply grateful.

Thanks be to God for knowing the faithscape of a nation and the landscape of the heart.

For knowing that I needed Ukraine. And that Ukraine--in some small way--needed me.

For allowing me to clumsily try to deliver His message of love to His children there.

For giving me more than I ever deserved.

For allowing me to love so much it hurt.

For showing me the beauty of the Russian language, the resiliance of the Ukrainian spirit, and the strength of Ukrainian women.

For giving me a bit of that resiliance and strength to carry home.

And thanks be to God that He is the healer of nations and of souls.

I haven't forgotten.

And I never will.

give thanks.

"'Thank you' is the best prayer anyone could say." -- Alice Walker 

This year I give thanks for many things.

I give thanks for family, both immediate and extended. I am grateful for parents who trust me and allow me to follow my heart and my dreams--even when it takes me away from them. I am grateful for siblings who always make me laugh and who brighten my life with their kindness and friendship. I am grateful for an aunt, uncle, and cousins who invited me to Thanksgiving with their family.

I give thanks for friends, both old and new. For friends around the world--from Oxford, England to Salt Lake City, Utah. For the beauty of connection and communication--whether it be over an email exchange, a FaceTime call, or looking into the light and understanding of another's eyes and smile. Those times when you feel completely comfortable and find those who take you as you are and believe in all you can be.

I give thanks for an education. For culminating my undergraduate experience at BYU. And for starting a new chapter at Oxford. I give thanks for a healthy body and an active mind which drinks in the world. For hands that keep asking for more. I give thanks for a heart that can't seem to give up hope--either for my own world or the greater world around me.

I give thanks for experience . . . and the wisdom that comes from that experience. I give thanks for second chances, third chances--is there really a statute of limitations on how many chances we get? Only if we give up.

I give thanks for light, both temporal and spiritual. Sunlight that pierces through the grey of December. Blue skies. Light that touches your face and finds a place in your heart, allowing you to breathe. Twinkle lights, fairy lights, all kinds of lights that keep hope alive on dark winter days. Light which fills your soul.

"For me, every hour is grace. And I feel gratitude in my heart each time I can meet someone and look at his or her smile." --Elie Wiesel


* I meant to post this in November/right after Thanksgiving. That obviously didn't happen (it's the end of term--I'm drowning just a bit). Better late than never, right?*

** And I meant to get this post done before I went to Moscow. Also didn't happen. Oh, well.**

i'm a lucky [woman] to count on both hands the ones i love

Tonight I reunited with these lovelies over frozen yogurt and good conversation (in both Russian and English):

Russian House, Spring of 2014. I'm sure glad that we all decided to room there at the same time. A spur-of-the-moment decision for me . . . and I am so grateful for that burst of spontaneity.

Because you just never know when you are going to meet four of the most wonderful women living in Provo, Utah.

I've been thinking lately how incredible it is that I have so many people to love in my life--and that there are so many people who love me. I can't put into words how wonderful that is to me. So. Thank you. Thank you all.

"Kindred spirits are not so scarce as I used to think. It's splendid to find out there are so many of them in the world." --Anne of Green Gables

Amen, Anne Shirley. Amen.

"With Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men"

Christmas carols have always been a hallmark of the Christmas season for me. Perhaps it's because some of my fondest memories come from Christmas hymns and Christmas caroling. Christmas carols have the warmth of familiarity and a spark of magic in their melodies and lyrics. They make me feel at home and they sound like heaven.

Favorite Christmas carols change with the years. I honestly think that every single Christmas hymn in the LDS hymn book has been my favorite at some point in my life. But every year there seems to be one Christmas hymn that stands out just a bit more to me than the rest because of the experiences of the previous year.

My favorite Christmas carol this year is "I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day." I used to not like this song as much; it doesn't have an exciting, upbeat, "Hallelujah! A Savior is born!" tempo like "Joy to the World" or "Hark! The Herald Angles Sing" does. Plus, it's kind of long . . . you have to sing all five verses to understand the song.

But as I've grown, the song has meant more to me.

I am moved by the story of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, who wrote the song after losing his wife in a tragic accidental fire and not knowing if his wounded son, who was a Union soldier in the Civil War, was going to live. No wonder he hung his head in despair and said "there is no peace on earth."

Truly, peace has been taken from the earth. Natural disasters, famines, political turmoil, shattered dreams and lost innocence scream that we live in perilous times. For example, this past semester I took a History of Modern Germany class. Just one day in that class would convince even the most naive that men do not live together in peace. The books I read for that class and the lectures I attended left me depressed and sometimes physically sick.

The more I learn about the world, the easier it is to despair.

But that is why the fourth verse is so powerful:

"Then pealed the bells more loud and deep: 'God is not dead nor doth He sleep; the wrong shall fail, the right prevail with peace on earth, good will to men!'"

God is not dead. Yes, there is hatred and cruelty in the world. Yes, life never turns out the way we plan. Yes, sorrow strikes us and fear paralyzes us.

But that doesn't mean God isn't there.
It doesn't mean He isn't mindful of us.
It doesn't mean He doesn't weep for us and with us.

There is a reason we celebrate Christmas. It is because our Heavenly Father sent His Son to earth. Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace, came into the world to take away the pain, sorrow, and hatred of the world. He came to atone for our sins and wipe away our tears.

I testify that Christ is the reason there can be peace on earth, and certainly in our hearts. He is the way to have peace in this life. He is the only way. He makes us whole. He is the Healer of the nations.

And He is the reason I sing at Christmastime . . . and all of the time.

Blessed, Honored Pioneer

HAPPY PIONEER DAY!!!!!

Did you know that when I was little--around ten- or eleven-years-old--I wanted to be a pioneer so badly?  Like, I wanted to be born in the 1830s, just so I could have been a pioneer child, singing as she walked and walked and walked and walked.

Don't worry. I don't wish that anymore. Now I'm very glad to be here, in the 21st century. (Hurrah for air conditioning!)

But my admiration for the pioneers has never died. I can't put into words how much their sacrifice and devotion mean to me.

They sacrificed so much for the gospel of Jesus Christ--their homes, their money, their comforts, their families . . . even their lives.

I am so grateful for pioneers. And not just those who crossed the plains. But all those who had and have the courage to join the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. Like my dad.

So, thank you pioneers in my life. Thank you to those who sailed across the oceans to America; those who crossed the plains to make it to the Salt Lake Valley; those who bravely decide to join the Church. You are an inspiration.

"But if our lives are spared again to see the Saints their rest obtain. Oh how we'll make this chorus swell: All is well! All is well!" 

Live in Thanksgiving Daily

I was reading in the Book of Mormon this morning and came across Alma 34, verse 38:



". . . and that ye live in thanksgiving daily, for the many mercies and blessings which he doth bestow upon you."



How perfect for today. And every day, really.



I truly am grateful for the many blessings God has given to me: my family, my friends, a healthy body, the gift of music, the extraordinary opportunities I've had to learn and grow and experience life, and the Gospel. His mercies abound, and I am reminded constantly of them--especially in the small and simple ways--from the beauty of a sunset to the touch of a child's hand; from finding a cell phone charger to finding peace in this world. He is truly mindful of us, and there is great reason to be thankful.



I'm also grateful for Thanksgiving. Of course it is a wonderful time to see family and friends and eat delicious turkey and scrumptious pies (mmm), but it also helps me to remember. It helps me remember how I've been blessed, how my family has been blessed, and how, I believe, this country has been blessed. And I want to live my life so I can bless others, as well . . . so they can have something (or someone) to be grateful for. "Because I have been given much, I too must give."



Happy Thanksgiving!



P.S. There was a really interesting article in the Wall Street Journal about how gratitude is good for your well-being. I believe it. Another reason for why we should "live in thanksgiving daily".



I think you would enjoy reading it: http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052748704243904575630541486290052.html