Youth Conference

I ran away from my unpaid internship for three days and volunteered as a counselor for a mock EFY for kids here in New York who would never be able to afford an actual program.

We had training Sunday night--two hours of "love the kids," "lay down the law," and "love the kids." That was it.

Tuesday we showed up early at a university campus in Queens. The kids were already crowding restlessly around one small door--the only thing that separated them from the air conditioning and World Cup game just inside the front room.

Five hours later and we almost had everyone checked in. There were so many youth that showed up without registering, many of the leaders were afraid they'd run out of beds. But they had an open arms policy, and wouldn't turn anyone away.

I had already forgotten all of my so called "training" as the "youth," the tall scary youth, surrounded me. What was I supposed to say when they're shorts were too short? How was I supposed to address vulgar language? Am I really supposed to just take their cell phones and ipods if they brought them?

It was like pulling teeth to get my kids to move anywhere. However, when evening hit they somehow gained a whole bunch of energy, and they went everywhere. About half the building tried to sneak out the first night!

One of the kids in my group didn't speak any English, as he had just moved here from the Dominican Republic four months ago!

I couldn't believe how little the kids knew about the church. "What's a convert?" "What are those brothers' names? Oh, Cain and who?"

They even clapped after every testimony (a reverent and spiritual declaration of one's belief's).

The kid behind me at one of the meetings laughed and said, "Only in New York." And then joined the crowd with whoops and hollers of his own.

The theme was "Be Strong and of a Good Courage."

If I walked pass some of these kids on the street, I'm sure they would have scared the wits out of me. I thought I was the one that needed strength and courage, not them.

Out of the nearly 400 people there, I was one of 5 blonde people.

But let me tell you, I wish our U.S. culture consisted of dancing like that!

The got Brad Wilcox to come!

(A BYU professor and high profile motivational speaker for youth.)

And Sister Dalton!

(The General Young Women President of the LDS church.)

One of the youth stood up at the end to share her thoughts on the conference experience. She said that youth conference meant a lot to her (something that us tired counselors had struggled to see over the past three days). She said she had just graduated from high school and was feeling lost in her life. Her father had said some pretty unkind things about her at her graduation, and the spout resulted in a fight where her father said he never wanted to see her again. During her senior year her mother had been in and out of the hospital, and she bore that responsibility. To the hospital at 11pm, back at 6am, high school, homework, and a cleaning business just to keep her family together. This girl was 17 years old and keeping her family together. And then the father has the nerve to rag on her and tell her to get out of his house.

Sure, these kids were rough on the edges, and some of them were down right delinquents, but I can't imagine, I can't even imagine what they go through on a daily basis.

I wish I could say they all left feeling loved.

I only hope they all left feeling something.

I have so many more stories and memories from this incredible experience.

It wasn't anything like what I expected (or what EFY in Provo, Utah would ever amount to), but it was a wonderful experience.

And while I still believe the doctrine of the church is the same all around the world, I have come to believe the culture of the church is very different.

Here's what the missionaries from Queens, New York have to say about that:

Missionaries

We invited the Mormon missionaries over for dinner! They have been passing around a calendar with silly pictures of their faces on it, practically begging for people to sign up to make them dinner.

So we did!

The missionaries told us some experiences they've had working here in Harlem. Apparently they get this a lot:

"I don't want to hear about no white Jesus. You keep your white Jesus to yourself."

Pursuing the the topic the missionaries explained that Jesus was from Jerusalem, and was therefore a Jew--neither black nor white.

"[Insert expletive here...or multiple] Jesus was Jew-ish. Jew-ISH. He ain't no Jew and he ain't white either!"

Apparently the missionaries have had this discussion multiple times.

Sigh. I love Harlem.

Want to chat with some missionaries?

You can ask them any questions you'd like here.

You can talk over the phone, in person or through IM, so it's a really safe way with no pressure to ask about the Mormons!

Miracles

I wouldn't say I get everything I want in life. And I can definitely say I work for what I do get.

But God blesses me every step of the way. Miracles happen in my life--all the time.

A {Wonderful} Weekend

Dinner with Zack.

Made it through classes.

Cross Country Skiing.


Dance party.

Late Wendy's run.

Hanging till 1am.

Notecards--lots of them {not so wonderful}.


Zebra party.

Chocolate chips and Step Up.

Lots of journal writing.

Curly hair.

Deaf ward.

Making baguettes.

What is Change?

As I begin this new year, naturally, I've thought a lot about my past--who I was, who I am now, and who I want to become. I learned a lot, and grew more than I could have anticipated. But today I learned another lesson, and made another step. In Elder Holland's speech Remember Lot's Wife, he teaches of not looking back to the past with a longing for what was or could have been.

"The future holds everything for us."

"Faith builds on the past, but never longs to stay there. Faith trusts that God has great things in store for each of us; and that Christ truly is the High Priest of things to come."

"Keep your eyes on your dreams, however distant and far away. Live to see the miracles of repentance and forgiveness, of trust and divine love that will transform your life today and tomorrow and forever. That is a New Year's resolution I ask you to keep."

Today I learned not to doubt the Lord's ability to give us something better than the past. He forgets the past if we allow him to forgive. We should remember it--but only enough to build upon it, grow, learn, and change.

Changing behavior is good, but changing our driving motives through constant prayer is better.
Change must be conscious. Change is faith. Allowing others to change is charity.

Married

I was supposed to get married today. It's kind of a weird feeling (albeit, not as weird as I had anticipated)--knowing six months ago I walked through a mansion (my future reception hall) and discussed honeymoon cruises with my husband-to-be. But instead, I'm going on a date tonight. Interesting, the trips life takes us on.
Now, on to current dilemmas: do I join the Provo hip-hop team, or do I sneak into the World Religions class on Thursday nights?

No Time

It's nearly finals and I'm swamped (hello? who has been absent on this blog for the past week); however, I had to squeeze in a few words--maybe it'll help me focus if I can get these non-homework thoughts on this blog so I'm not distracted.
Or not. Let's be real, I just don't want to do my homework! Pretty sure I've already written this, but somehow my professors didn't get the memo:
I HATE HOMEWORK. I HATE TESTS. I HATE PAPERS. I HATE PRESENTATIONS. I HATE PROJECTS.

I was thinking earlier of how burned out I feel (obviously think about being burned out instead of writing the story that I'm still avoiding--yeah, due tomorrow). I've given up on perfect grades this semester more than ever. With the exception of my Travis term, I've had a 4.0 for nearly a year now--fulfilling my goal of merely wanting one perfect semester. Not merely the all "A"s and one "A-" garbage I've had most of my college career. But I'm ready for a real break. I've been in school for five years straight, including summers, with no break. It's time. Anyway, going back to my earlier thoughts (dang, I'm so easily distracted right now--again, that's why I'm writing this post instead of my paper). Just this semester I finally declared the double major that I've been working on for nearly a year, simultaneously with my original broadcasting major. Declaring gave me so much peace and direction in my life. In addition to helping me feel I had somewhere to be next year, declaring also set a chain of events in motion that resulted in my following through with a dream of interning with National Geographic. I really believe that internship will be very important to me, but I don't know if the double major is as important as I originally believed--or if it was merely a means to an end. We'll see. I've also been reconsidering my potential of serving a mission.

Another thought: lately, I've realized that I'm not scared of seeing Travis on campus anymore. Nearly every time I walked in an open area, I wondered if I would bump into him. I've successful made it an entire semester without seeing him. But it occurred to me a few days ago that it wouldn't matter. It wouldn't matter if I walked past him, or if he waved, or if he ignored me and looked the other way. None of it would matter. I was scared of crossing paths--scared of what that would do to me emotionally. Yet, it's not him that I'm scared of--actually, I don't think he could bother me anymore whatsoever (took me far too long to get to that point). But I am scared of something. When I actually pictured him walking by, I had a really hard time putting details to the visual. He has already begun fading from my memory, and he's fading fast now. The edges are all blurry as I try to recall the conversations, laughter, love--it's all gone. I just remember a few words--mostly the inappropriate ones, and his eyes. But they don't haunt me anymore. Seeing him just came to represent something I held bottled up inside of me--my desires. I prefer to suppress them, but I'm okay to be vulnerable again--I think. I've had more power than ever in my ability to understand and control my emotions surrounding boys. I think I'm ready to lose control again--I think. Travis, thank you for the lessons you taught me. I hated you for the things you did to me, but I've forgiven you. You were wrong, but we were young. I never want to think of or mention you again. And I wish other boys would stop wanting to talk about it. I hate talking about dates, dating, or dumb dudes on dates. I'm done.

I have a great life! If only this stupid paper would go away and let me live it!

Oh, one more thing. My room-roommate is moving out at the end of this semester--I just found out. Someone new will move in. Weird.

Oh, and one more, more thing. My tongue is blue right now. I just ate an Extreme Sour Warhead! I haven't had one in YEARS! Thanks for sharing, Angela.

Oh, and one more, more, more thing. We cut snowflakes in my apartment to decorate. I cut my finger. My snowflake is now red. Oops. Thought it was supposed to go the other way.
Isaiah 1:18: "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the LORD: though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool."
hehehe.

Dark vs. Light

Today, darkness engulfed me.

While walking through a hall on campus, I saw a colleague hiding her puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks behind the back of her hand. She was attempting to talk on the phone, but all that came out were cries of desperation and sobs of deep pain. I wanted to reach out to her, comfort her, but I felt awkward as we were merely acquaintances. After skulking off, my conscience finally won, and I found the courage to turn around and check on her. I gave a sad attempt at hugging her, but it was useless, because she quickly gestured her desire to be alone. I couldn't help. Only minutes earlier I had discussed her work with her and she was fine. Now, she felt a wrenching pain--the kind that came from the bottom of your gut and ripped holes in your soul. But I couldn't help.

Later I found out she had received horrible news: her cousin had committed suicide.

I thought of the one person I had known to commit suicide. It was the father of two of my dance students. Memories of him began running through my mind. I can so clearly remember him sitting in the lounge of the dance studio. He was always so kind. I don't think I ever knew his name, but he knew mine, and he always made it a point to ask me about my life when I took the girls out for a mid-class trip to the drinking fountain. He seemed to enjoy the updates I gave him, and he was the only father who ever associated with me. I really liked him. I knew he and his wife were divorced, and I'm sure there were valid reasons why that was so, but I liked his ex-wife as well. His daughters were some of my favorite students.

I can remember the day I found out what he'd done. I noticed he'd stopped coming in to pick up the girls, as he always had in the evenings. I guess I'd assumed the family's schedule changed, and he switched to dropping them off, or something of the like. One of the other dance teachers made reference to how well the girls were both doing, and how glad everyone was to have them back in classes. When I obviously didn't understand what my colleague was talking about, she explained. I felt sick for days. He shot himself in the front yard just before his girls left his house. They were there. A fifteen and eight year old. Present. Saw it. Heard it. Sickening. I felt nauseous for days, and I didn't even know him all that well. So what if he had his problems. How selfish can you be? I get down. I think poorly about myself. I have rough spouts--like today, for example. Today I've thought very negative thoughts. Does that mean I can give up?

My mother's friend committed herself to a hospital's psych ward this summer. She said she needed some peace and quiet and a good night's sleep.

I wish I were stronger. I wish I never doubted. I wish I could be more. But I know my weaknesses act as teachers, which cause me to grow and learn and become better than anything I otherwise could have become. I hurt, oh I hurt so deeply. I don't think I've been completely whole for some time now. Often, I pretend: to be O.K., to care, to smile. But my life is also full of joy and learning and love. I have a testimony of the healing and enabling powers of the savior. I desire perfect happiness and exaltation through him. Yet, I understand this life isn't meant for happily ever afters. It is for ups and downs, that is what makes us grow, what makes us fulfill the potential the Lord sees in us. I am so blessed. I am so grateful--even for the trials, and I know I can't give up. I don't want to give up, because tomorrow will be better. And today is good. The gospel brings me peace and joy and light. It is the source of happiness. It is love. And God answers prayers.

The words in this video hit me as though they were the words of my Heavenly Father, speaking the thoughts of a parent to a child on his knee. Thank you, Father. Thank you for everything.



Sorry. I feel as though that were very depressing. Believe me when I say I have a good life. I'm just down about my co-worker's cousin, and the sadness this life brings each and every one of us.

Mormons Against Modesty?

I can't believe this. Her poor children.

The first calendar was bad enough, but now this?...

Missionary Work

I know this is kind of long, but I didn't have the heart to cut anything out. This is the first email we've received from my cousin since he touched ground in Armenia. It's letters like this that really open my eyes to the world we fail to remember on a daily basis. I love him and his brother, who is also serving a mission at this time. I'm so grateful for their decisions to serve.

I know the Gospel of Jesus Christ is the only path that leads to true happiness. I wish I could serve a mission and proclaim this to the world. One day I will understand why God wants me here--in lil' old Provo, Winter of 2009--I know he has a purpose for my life.




what up
after 3 days of traveling i finally made it to armenia. we got in at about 2 am, then went over and slept at the mission presidents house. we got up at 630, ate breakfast, and then interviewed real quick with the president and were assigned where we would serve. we had a quick orientation with the ap's, and then went over to the spot where the armenia mission was dedicated by elder oaks. We read the dedicatory prayer and had a chance to look out across yerevan and mount arat and ponder. it was a cool experience. after that we headed to the "genocide" museum and learned more about it. Arenia has been through so much, from the genocide to the soviet power .I definitely admire them for the courage and strength to be still standing. After that, we cruised over to the mission office, where a taxi was waiting for me. Without warning, I was told "good bye elder lusk, have fun in Alaverdi." I got in and sped off. Alaverdi is basically the most northern place in Armenia. It sits on top of a mountain and is located on a plateau that overlooks a canyon. To get to the village, you take this chair lift thing ( it is like a really old, rickety Gondola), and it takes you up. It was about a 4 hour ride to get there. We stopped in Vanazor, which was about three hours away. to pick up my new companion, elder gull. He is from orem and is way legit. we are a lot alike so it works out well. Anyways, we finally got to Alaverdi, hopped out, and rode the lift thing up to our village. I thought I had prepared as well as I could for a culture shock, but I dont think it was possible to prepare for what came. I guess my mind didn't really know that something like this existed, so preparing for it was basically impossible. It felt like something out of a movie, like a really old russian town or something. I had a bunch of pictures but i brought the wrong cord so i'll get them to you next week. its a very beautiful town; lots of trees that in fall colors, and a river that runs at the bottom of the canyon beneath our village. theres basically just a bunch of apartment looking things that just look unfinished. theres a few houses that just look like old cottages. people also live in these things that are made out of sheet metal, and they are about as big as an average bedroom. We get water for about 30 min in the morning and at night (on a good day9<:), and as for the toilets there isn't any flushing going on. you do your thang and then grab a bucket of water and pour it in to flush it out. our shower(if you can call it that)is pretty interesting to. ill get the pic of it sent next week....
well anyways, its been good so far. my first night in alaverdi we had 3 appointments set up. i couldn't understand to much, but i got the main ideas of what everyone was saying. our last meeting was at a ward members apartment, and we were meeting with her nephew. this ward member is very strong and has an unbelievable testimony. before this area was opened up 2 years ago, she has a dream that to missionaries is suits came to her house and taught her about jesus christ. when the two missionaries got there, one of which was my mtc teacher, she recognized them and recognized the names from her dream, and she was the first person baptized there. well, we were teaching her nephew about faith and about the commandments. he had already met with the missionaries before and knew about what we were talking about. i didn't speak much, but at the end i just decided to bear my testimony. i told him that i didnt know much armenian, but that god loved him very much and asked me to come to his house to bring him this special message. i said that the message i had would change his life, that it was the message of salvation, and that he had a savior who would take all his burdens. i talked about god's plan for him and said that the gospel has been restored and god has called missionaries to proclaim it. And last i told him that i knew without a doubt that this church was the only true church on the face of the earth, and that god wanted him to be baptized. That night, we set a baptismal date for Arsen. Yesterday, we went to church and watched gen. conference. the church is a room underneath the town hall, which you have to take the lift down from where we are to get to. we have about 40 members, although only about 20 come because the others can't afford to take the lift down, which costs 80 dram, which is about 20 cents. I told elder gull to get ahold of the members and tell them that anyone that wanted to come to church from now on i would pay for their lift down, so hopefully we'll get some more people. we have one melchezedeck priesthood holder who is the branch president. elder gull is his counselor and i am the other counselor/clerk. we have two aaronic priesthood holders, two boys that are 12 and 13. they pass the sacrament for us each week. luckily yesterday was gen conf day, so i didnt have to talk or teach, but every sunday me and elder gull wil give the talks and teach sunday school. After church, we met with an investigator there, and then went home for lunch. We had 4 appointments set up for that night so we got on that after lunch. One of the appointments was with a man named Artur. Again I couldn't say much, but I helped my companion teach him about the restoration and the book of mormon. I felt myself going back to one thing again, and that was my testimony. I bore him my testimony and again said that God has called me to proclaim this message to anyone that would hear and be willing to follow Jesus Christ. That night, we set a baptisimal date for Artur. Tonight, we are going to teach him about that commandments and the word of wisdom, because he is a heavy smoker like most people in armenia. I am confident that if he turns to the savior the smoking wont be a problem anymore.
anyways, the work here is good. im in a town where the church is brand new, so we are building it up just as they did in the early church. i have been touched by how humble and nice the people are. they really have nothing at all. more nothing than i thought existed. yet, they will give you everything they have. i think everyone just has one pair of clothes, and the kids basically look abandoned and dirty. the children are awesome, they love the missionaries. one of the 12 year old boys with the aaronic priesthood likes to follow us around with his flashlight, to give us light and carry our bags. he wants to serve a mission after the army(everyone is required to give service to the army for like 3 years when they are 18). hes legit. i like talking to him because i dont feel bad when i screw up.
i am so grateful for everything i have and for this gospel. it is the light in a world of complete darkness. it amazes me of how much God loves each individual and knows each of us better than we know ourselves. last night, we taught a lot of the children about Jesus Christ. As all the kids swarmed me and at on my lap, everyone completely covered in dirt and with shoes, I for the first time in my life felt like the Savior. I could care less about how dirty the kids were, or where I was, but I unconditionally loved each one. I showed them pictures of Jesus and told them that Jesus loved them very much. To see each of their faces light up made my day. This gospel is all about love, it is what Jesus Christ lived and died for, and it is what He taught. I have already fell in love with the people here, and am so excited to have this opportunity to serve my God and King. Service is happiness, and I am grateful to fulfill the prophecy Christ that says "the gospel will be taken to every creature..."

love you all,
elder jordan lusk

I Feel Your Pain and Wonder Why it Has to be This Way.

There is so much pain around me—pain that I cannot heal. I hurt, they hurt. And now I hurt from my own problems and from theirs. But I cannot heal them. Why does death take loved ones from us early? Why do illnesses debilitate the faithful, the righteous, and undeserving? But most of all, why can I do nothing?!

This week, more than ever before, the existence and prevalence of pain and problems in everyone’s lives has manifested itself strongly unto me. There are billions of people in the world, and yet we feel alone. People may reach out to us, but in fear we recoil back into our shells, our safe places—lonely, but not vulnerable. I now understand Christ’s willingness to give Himself for the pains of the world. If I could, I would. But even if our sacrifices could heal, I myself am not a worthy enough sacrifice to compensate.

I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I feel sick. Fat. Ugly. Tired. Empty. Hurting. Angry. Stupid. –Probably all feelings coming from Satan, but he’s doing a really good job at convincing me I’ve had enough.

I’M SO CONFUSED!

Life doesn’t even make sense to me anymore. I use to be so sure about who I was, where I was going, and who I wanted to become in the meantime. Now I just don’t know. Nobody has any answers!

“REMEMBER: THERE’S NEVER A PERFECT MATCH”

Says the bus driver. I’ve always know that life isn’t perfect and I’m not perfect and that’s not going to change. But why can’t I at least have a perfect match?!
If God has all of the answers, then why doesn’t he share them with me?? I know he is there, I’m sure of that. But then why do I still feel so alone?

I FEEL LIKE I’M GOING TO BE SICK!

My head an stomach are swimming so much, I can’t even think straight.

HELP!