A Special Thanks to the Skunk I Hit.

I'd like to think I'm a pretty decent driver. I mean I have the odds stacked against me; Asian and female. But the other day, my record was busted. I hit a skunk.

I've always gotten pretty close, maybe just a graze of hitting your typical squirrel or mouse. But it was dark, and once I saw that skunk run across the road with no intent of return, all I could say to myself was, "NO, NO, NO!" Then boom. That skunk, Satan's cat, was a goner. I felt the bump of when he (or possibly she) hit my car and I knew right then and there...Felipe (as I decided to call it) was in skunk heaven. 

Driving in Darkness.

Driving in the dark is a weird, yet awesome thing. You are in pitch black, but you're guided by a two lights that work on your car to become one and help you see. It's crazy! (I seriously applaud those who are intelligent enough to figure out every little logistic piece and make technology what it is.) 

Whenever I read or study the Iron Rod in the scriptures or have a lesson on it, I can't help but think about that dang Mist of Darkness. If that darkness wasn't there, then those on the Iron Rod could clearly see that maybe the Great and Spacious Building isn't what it appears to be. But because of the Mist of Darkness, they can't see entirely what's happening. 

I feel like sometimes on my journey of life, (or the Iron Rod) those Mists of Darkness get to me and I can't escape them. I'm holding on tightly with both hands, trying to see that glorious goal, (the Tree) but this fogginess clouds my mind. I still study my scriptures and pray, but my scripture study becomes more just reading, and my prayers seem less sincere and more automatic. 

It's hard to see in the dark without some source of light. And I'm positive the adversary knows exactly what he is doing when we go through those cloudy, hard parts of life. He knows that if he can get us just a little bit off the Rod, then he could do it slowly and bit by bit. 

What Would It Feel Like?

Just a few weeks ago, our stake had Girls Camp and I went to help a couple of the evenings. For one of the activities, they had an "Iron Rod Activity". I've done this before at Camps and Conferences, but here's what happens; (If you already know, skip the next paragraph)

This typically takes place in a field or area with foliage. There is a rope that acts as the "rod," the blindfolded participant has to stay on the rod, and not be lead astray by other ropes that could be tied to the initial rope and reach their destination. Pretty easy right? Oh yeah, I forgot, there are others who are acting as "tempters" trying to get the participant off the initial rope. Either off to a false rope, or off the path entirely. There are others who act as "angels" to help the participant through the journey. Both give tips and advice, both are seemingly helping, but since the participant is blindfolded, it's hard to tell if the person helping is a tempter or angel. The tempters and angels are spread throughout the course, encouraging in ways they only know how to keep the participant on the path or encourage them off.  The angel will encourage as though the participant will meet obstacles through trying to go under or around trees, stepping over boulders, and avoiding crowded areas. The angel does their best to help the participant reach their destination safely. However, the tempter is encouraging the participant with easier routes, safe zones, or even telling them they have reached the end. Neither the angel or tempter can physically touch the participant, but let them make the decision if they will listen to them--whether it be good or bad. (I hope that made sense!)

However, when I was listening on how this Iron Rod Activity would go on, there was something different. If the tempter could get the participant to reach out and take their hand, the tempter was to sit them down and away from the path.

The participant was only to sit for a few minutes until an angel would come to put them on the path again. 

How hard that would be. To feel like you knew exactly what you were doing, and listening to the "right" people, only to be off the path. You're blinded, because you can't see what exactly is coming or who is influencing you. 

An Ache in My Heart.

It hurt me to even think about sitting away from the Rod. From the rope. The safety that you know is there. My heart aches for those who are off the path and whether they know it or not, I hurt for them. Now not because I want them to live exactly perfectly, (because we are human--not one of us is perfect) not because I want them to live how I do, but because nobody should feel like there is a darkness or no hope in their life. Nobody should feel they are so far off in the dark from a decision they've made, that they feel there is no rescue. 

A Little Light. 

But the great thing is, we all mess up! I'm the worst at prioritizing, and that can sometimes lead me to be lazy or not finish everything I want to. Because I choose to not put things as they should be, I can almost lead myself to darkness. Truth is, I worry way too much about what people think about me. I don't like to admit it, but I do! I'm a people pleaser, (even it doesn't always appear that way) and I hate contention. But sometimes I tend to fall into that darkness and let those little things get to me.

But sometimes it's good to run into little patches of darkness, so we can yearn more for the glorious light. To give us more of a personal push for scripture study, and personal prayer, and just to become the best us we can be.

(If you want to know more about the Iron Rod, Mist of Darkness, or the Great and Spacious Building, check out 1 Nephi chapter 8 in the Book of Mormon.)

So Thanks Skunk.

So thank you skunk. I'm sorry you are now dead, and that I had to learn about how darkness really isn't that great, but can be made to be light. I'm sorry I didn't give you the funeral you deserved, or that I never really found out your name, but thanks for teaching me a lesson in a weird way. (Because apparently that's how I learn it--shoutout to the crow)

And thank you, friend and reader, for making it this far in this blog post that may not make sense. Thanks for being you, and getting through those dark times in your life. Basically, thanks for being you.

Mostly Marissa 

Hey Dads.

Hey Dads. This post is for you. For my dad, my brothers who are dads (or yet to be them), to my grandpas, to my uncles, to the crazy seminary teachers who were just like my dad, to the dads I know, and to the dads to may not have had children on this earth, but are the example of a father. Here's to you. To the Men in My Life.

Papa Barnes

I'm pretty convinced (actually I know) that I've got the best dad in the history of ever. Honestly, he's as stubborn as stubborn can be, takes dad jokes to it's entire advantage, and has a knack for taking nature photos. (Quite extraordinary actually.)

One of my favorite memories of my dad is when my mom went back to work, and my dad first started working from home. I was in second grade and had no idea how to do my hair, (my mom was still doing it--judge me!) my dad decided to take on the role and try doing my hair for me...after a while he got frustrated because he couldn't get even a ponytail quite right. Finally, he asked if I could just wear a hat to school. Although he tried to do my hair, (it did look quite funky too) in a way he taught me to learn how to do my own hair. (Through his many a stumblings.)

Another thing my dad has always done for me, is when I'm having a hard day or a rough time I generally go to my room and think. He always seems to know what's wrong and I can't even say the amount of times he has taken the time to stick his head in and talk about whatever is going on with my life, or even just to say he loves me. I'll never forget that.

My dad is the best at advice. And I'm the worst at receiving it. It's in the short car rides we have, or when I'm getting ready in the morning where my dad has given me the best advice. He's taken his experiences and sincerely and truly wants something better for me. He works harder than I'll ever understand to make sure that our family, and I as an individual have a comfortable, happy life. 

Something I've always had on my list for a future husband is exactly what my dad portrays. My dad knows something about everything. I can ask him what that random plant is and he'll know exactly what it is! Little do others know, my dad hunted a lot when he was younger. He has a testimony of gold, and shares it with those who will hear. He's taught me to love the gospel and my Father in Heaven. For that, I am indebted to him.

They say it's the little things, and they're surely right. My dad is one of my best friends. (Haha also one of the most stubborn people I know!) He works hard to provide, is always there for a (cheesy) laugh, is more than an example to me, and has taught me so much about who I am and will become. I love you dad.

Joshy-Washy.

I can't really say enough good about Josh. He works hard to help others, and expects zero recognition for what he's done. I can see the way he loves his wife Kari and his two (crazy) daughters. He works hard to provide, and does what he can to serve others in any way possible.

I remember we were cleaning dutch ovens once, and it was my job to move them. My dad said, "don't take more than one at a time to move." Well I was going to show him. As I carried two, one slipped and I took a huge chip out of Josh's dutch oven. (Those aren't cheap either.) I was so upset for not listening, and didn't want to tell Josh that the dutch oven I broke was his. When I came to him upset and crying, he simply said; "That's okay Rissa. Just be careful next time."An example of how patient and loving that weirdo can be.

Jakers.

Every time I think of Jake I have to smile and laugh a little because to me, he's like a big teddy bear. Jake has always been an example to me of someone who is always looking out for others, even if it's hard. Jake is a very prepared man. He says he isn't a risk taker, but I think he takes more risks than anyone I know. He doesn't get the appreciation he should, but that's because he's Jake and does a lot for others "behind their back" just because he is a sincere person. I love how he does that.

I remember calling Jake when he was in college, just in tears. (Haha apparently I cry a lot.) I was upset because I felt pretty defeated by life and people, and in my 12 year-old realm of life I had had it. Jake let me explain what was going on, and talked me through it. He gave me honest advice, and helped me realize that even if it was hard, it wasn't the end and things will get better. 

Also, he let me call him at 6am...twice. To help me with registering for college classes because I hadn't a clue what I was doing. He rocks for that. 

Bendre the Boosa.

Oh man Ben. There's not many things I love to hear in this world more than Ben's laugh. Ben is the best at making the best of a bad situation. Even when he had his troubles with pains and surgeries with his legs, I never heard him complain once. My mom says he was her happiest baby and I believe it! He's always smiling and laughing, and trying to help others through a hard time with the good 'ol laughter medicine.

One of my favorite memories with Ben, was when he would babysit Adam, Andrew, and I. (Aside from the babysitting times when he would make me smell his armpit.) Ben would always let Andrew and I ride on his back and call him Boosa. Honestly, I don't know exactly was a "Boosa" is, but Ben would always be involved with us when he played or babysat us. Ben is always 110% in of what he has promised or dedicated himself to do, and I admire him for that.

A-dam.

Now let me be upfront, Adam isn't a dad yet. But I think he will be such a great father someday. Adam loves kids. He is always seeking to help someone out who is struggling or needing a helping hand. He's one of the best listeners I know, and he always is there for a (cheesy) laugh.

One of my favorite things about Adam is that even if his sense of humor is entirely cheesy, he uses his humor to help others when it's hard. He's really good at becoming best friends with strangers in a ridiculously short amount of time. He doesn't ever see a barrier and loves people for who they are. 

Botat. 

Oh Andrew. Alright readers, he is far from being a dad. He's serving the people of Ecuador right now, but I know for a surety he'll make an even better father for as great as a brother he is. Andrew and I haven't always been able to get along, but his example is so huge to me. 

When I was a sophomore and he was a senior, everyone knew Andrew. They would always say, "You're Andrew's sister?! You're so lucky!" I wanted to say, "Yes, I am Marissa, 'Andrew's sister'. Have you met the kid? He's wacko. We have different definitions of lucky it appears." But wait, I'm not an awful person! Because as time went on, I would see Andrew just as everyone else did. Andrew always had someone's back. He was always including others, showing Christ-like love, and always was treating everyone on the same plane--nobody was better or worse in his book. He truly loves others, he loves people. And I love that about him. He is a people person, and he's the best at it!

Hey Dads.

So hey dads, you're not perfect. But you're pretty great because we think you're quite up there and as close as you can be to perfection. 

Hey dads, you're crazy. You're wacko and nuts. You make life fun and tease us as kids constantly. But hey, we like it and wouldn't have it any other way.

Hey dads, you're funny. (Except for those dad jokes. ;)) You help us when we feel down, and surely use those dad jokes whenever possible. 

Hey dads, you work hard. Whether that's at out in the workplace, or at home helping with the kids, you work hard. It's not always seen or thanked for, but you work hard and you're proud of it. 

Hey dads, you're an example to us. You use what you've learned as a hardworking husband, father, and son and make life better for those around you. You put others first. 

Hey dads, the media doesn't treat you like you should be treated. You're intelligent, seek learning and knowledge, you work hard to become better everyday. The media tries to make you look like you're far from that, but hey. We see it and we appreciate it.

Hey dads, WE LOVE YOU!!! We don't always show it, we might be not very good kids at times, but we owe who we are, (at least the good things) all to you. You're crazy, funny, you work hard, are an examples, and a lot of what you do and say you may think goes unnoticed, but we love you for all you do.

And to a Heavenly Father who gave me these earthly examples so I can return to Him someday. 

So hey dads, here's to you.

Mostly Marissa 

Bidding Adieu-The Beginning of Mama Marissa

"If you say that one more time I'm gonna slug you. I'll slug you anytime you say that."

"Mama Marissa."

*slugs Jake in the arm as hard as I can*

I was pretty sure I had life figured out by the time I got to my senior year. Boy was I wrong. I think too many times we look at high school in one of two ways:

1. You don't look back at it

2. You look back at it too much

I didn't want to be either one of those scenarios. So here I am, writing a blog post about it. (Please don't hate me.) 

To those in high school: (especially you seniors!)
-Get involved
-Be friends with everybody
-Remember everyone's names (I'm pretty sure Carson and Cameron truly understand how hard that is for me to do)
-Be happy (they always say that attitude is everything--they is right)
-Learn a little--challenge yourself, and save yourself some money by taking concurrent enrollment classes
-Maybe skip class once...ya know just to try it out...I did it once. ONCE. I'm not that rebellious friends
-Enjoy those stupid little things--like when squad talks in a circle before school starts or getting fries every Friday night
-Live in high school, don't live in high school--skip the drama llamas and gosh darn it live your life!
-Post lots of pictures--it annoys people, you get an excuse to take pictures, and put funny captions because honestly you're hilarious

Senior Year: The Balancing Act

Guys I swear I'm the worst at balancing things. Especially life! (Haha college is going to be interestinnngggg ;))

I actually really loved my high school experience...okay guys it was high school. Far from perfect, but you make the best of going to a school surrounded by farmland and some (quite hilarious) cowboys. It was awesome.

By my senior year I felt like I really had things figured out...well sorta. I loved my senior year and wouldn't have traded a thing! I took a few college classes, was an editor and web designer of the school newspaper, and was vice-president of Seminary Council. Man what a year!

I think something we all tend to struggle with is finding ourselves in whatever area we are at in our lives. I remember crying to my mom in elementary, junior high, and high school because I was so lost at finding (or rather remembering) who I was. I don't doubt that it'll happen for many times to come, but like they say, "comparison is the thief of joy." I found this year that the only person I want to compare myself to is the person I was yesterday.

Senior year really taught me how to be happy now and how to make life happy for the future. High school is such a short time in life, and I found myself looking too far back in the past that I wasn't enjoying the little moments in between and in the present.

So all and all, be happy. Be happy now! Because life is sure as heck crazy, busy, draining, laughable, and fun. But if you aren't happy because you're comparing yourself or looking to the past, then you're forgetting that this life is a Plan of Happiness! 

Mama Ooooo!

It's kinda crazy. Them Seminary Council kids. My kids. Alright they aren't kids...but it pretty much started that I became "Mama Marissa" because of them. Man I miss them. Mama Marissa begun when I was being my Marissa self and being (rather bossy--don't tell my brothers I said that) and one of the council members said, "You're acting like our mom." Then I made the mistake of telling them my brothers used to call me "Mini Mom." And thus Mama Marissa was born. (Just kidding guys, I was already born, the nickname came to be) 

Honestly, at first it drove me BONKERS. (Thus the beginning of this post.) But time went on, and the nickname wore on me, and here I am. Mama Marissa.

It's kind of funny actually. My Paw Print staff started calling me it, and when we had assemblies in Seminary, students would call me it--I didn't even know their names! (This is why it's important you know everybody's name!) Eventually people in the hallway started calling me it! Honest to truth, it makes me happy. I love it.

There's something about nicknames that just get to me. (But that's another post for another day.) That weird nickname of Mama Marissa really helped me to know that even if I was totally and completely stumbling through life itself, it made me feel about 100000 times better knowing that I was known for being Mama Marissa.

Adios Amigo!

Although I'm bidding adieu to that thing called high school, I certainly can't bid adieu to that name (or rather calling) Mama Marissa. It was a great ending to my high school career, and I can't really put into words how the past 3 years of my life impacted me. Cheesy to say, and I'll honestly probably be joking and teasing about it all tomorrow. See ya high school, you can keep the crowded hallways and copious amounts of saying "It's a Great Day to be a Silverwolf," but I'll still keep being Mama Marissa. *peace sign*

Until the next post,

Mama Marissa

Onto adulthood!
(Yes, this was a year ago when I thought I was really cool. Yes, I should have made this look cooler. Yes, yes, those are Pringles socks.)