Words of Wisdom From the Wise #3

"There is no saint without a past, and no sinner without a future." - Augustine of Hippo

3. To Serve or Not to Serve

Growing up, half of me idolized my father and the other half feared him. In my mind, he was the one who knew everything and could accomplish anything. Whenever he gave me advice, I followed it to the T, and whenever he told me a certain way was the right way to do something, I adopted it as truth without question. Consequently, from a very early age my father had a whole plan for my entire life, and I compliantly accepted it. Sometimes when he told me of different paths we could take to give me the best future, it scared me. He would speak of me not going to normal high school, graduating early, going straight to a trade school, and having a steady well-paying job by the time I was nineteen. Even as I would sit there listening, terrified on the inside because I thought I would have to leave my friends and life behind, I would just think that if that was what my dad wanted, then I would do it because he knew best.

Luckily, that didn't happen. I had a very normal high school experience and I continued on to the college that I wanted to go to. But even though I took control of my own life, the plan I had for my future had some very similar aspects to the plan my father had laid out for me. Including the fact that the options after going to college were: try to get married as soon as possible, or go on a mission when you reached the right age and then come back and get married. So that was essentially my plan when I got to BYU. In all honesty, I never expected to serve a mission. I know it's wrong to think of it in this way, but going on a mission always had seemed like a consolation prize to me, that you only went if you failed to get married first. After spending time here though, I slowly began to see going on a mission in a new light. It seemed like everyone in my dorm was going to serve and they were all so excited about it. Seeing that the likelihood of me getting married before I turned nineteen was very slim, I decided I would serve too, but I wasn't sure it was because I wanted to go.

So there I was, having decided, but not completely sure how I felt about it, and I started making preparations and telling my friends. I opened my mission papers and the more I worked on them the more excited I got. The girls in my hall started getting their mission calls left and right. England - Mandarin speaking, Zambia - English speaking, Arizona - Spanish speaking, Ecuador, Austen Texas!!! It was all just so wonderful! I was feeling more and more confident about it until one day my best friend told me she didn't want me to go. It may sound horrible, but in that moment that she asked me to stay, I was absolutely sure I had to go. All of the sudden, the thought of not going made me so disappointed and sad. I felt like a small child sent to bed early without dessert. I didn't want to make her upset by leaving, but I just had the best feeling in the world when I thought of going. I knew how much I wanted and needed to go and it was my decision now, not my father's or anyone else's. Going on a mission was no longer a consolation prize to me, it was the grand prize, because I was going to get the opportunity to serve my Lord and preach His wonderful gospel.

I still can't submit my papers for a few more months, but I am counting down the days until then. Yeah, I guess it would have been nice to get married, but I know that serving this mission will make me a better person and an even better wife and mother some day in the future. Going on a mission may not be for everyone, but it certainly is for me.

Words of Wisdom From the Wise #2

"We can complain because rose bushes have thorns, or we can rejoice because thorn bushes have roses." - Dieter F. Uchtdorf

Words of Wisdom From the Wise #1

"Fairy tales are more than true: not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be beaten." - Neil Gaiman

2. My Favorite Brother

You know how you're not supposed to have a favorite best friend? Or how teachers aren't supposed to have favorite students? Or how parents aren't supposed to have favorite children? But they all always do! Even if they won't admit it! Well apparently, it goes the same for favorite brother.

All growing up I always had a list in my mind of where all six of my brothers stacked up on the favorite scale. I never told them, but all my friends always knew. My brothers never knew, but every little thing they did either raised them up the list, if they did something to make me happy, or dropped them (usually like three places) on the list, if they did something that made me sad or worse, mad.

I was a tender four years old when I first developed my list. My oldest brother Jamie was in his senior year of high school and he was my hero. He always knew what to do, he always protected me, and I just always felt so safe with him. I remember the day he graduated I balled my eyes out because I knew what came after high school, college. And college meant Jamie was going to leave me and go some place far away. (At the time I didn't know how far away BYU was, but I knew I had to ride in our big passenger van ALL day long to get there when we went to Utah for Christmas.) I literally thought the moment after he graduated he would be off. I would not be consoled and I would not let go of Jamie. Then he picked me up and said, "You know Kira, I'm not leaving right now. I don't have to leave for a few months." I couldn't believe it! I still got to spend forever (at least that was what it seemed like to me) with my favorite brother! For some reason I can't quite remember what happened when he actually left for college. It must have been so devastating that I entirely blocked it out. For the longest time though, Jamie was just the best in my mind. I even waited four months after my eighth birthday to get baptized so he could do it after he got back from his church mission in Texas.

However, as the saying goes, "the higher you rise the further you have to fall" right? Well, let me tell you, Jamie fell. The family was having Family Home Evening one Monday night when Jamie was home from college and I sat right next to him, of course. He had this jar of mixed nuts on the other side of him and I reeeeeeally wanted them. Like any normal brother, he didn't let me have them. I tried reaching around him with my little eight year old arms, but astonishingly I couldn't reach them! I was quite put out! Well, that night Jamie had to lead the music so I had the PERFECT plan. When he stood up to conduct, I would lean over and snatch them away! I couldn't do it while I was singing the song though cause nobody wants to sings and eat at the same time right? So just as the song was ending I leaned over to get them and Jamie saw me getting at them AND SAT DOWN RIGHT ON MY HEAD!!! I was so appalled! At the time I was certain that I was going to suffocate and die! So when he finally got off me I sat up and all I could do was glare at him. He soooooooo wasn't my favorite brother anymore. And who better to replace him than my second to oldest brother, Jason.

Jason was the perfect child. He was the one all parents dream of raising and he was most definitely our parents' favorite. (You can try and deny it Mom and Dad, but we all know the truth!) He was pretty much the opposite of Jamie. He was kind, gentle, and would never sit on my head. When my dad left him in charge he could usually never get us to do anything because he would like never get mad. When all the other boys and me would be playing a video game and we'd use cheats he's just be like, "But you can't cheat! Cheating's wrong!" You get the picture? Perfect child. Golden boy. And my new favorite brother.

So he stayed my favorite brother for quite a long time. Even while he was on his church mission in Portugal for two years he was my favorite. BUT! Then he came home and got married. Not that this wasn't the most wonderful thing in the world, because it was. And not that I didn't like her, because I love her. But after he got married Jason just didn't really have time for me. (I found out in later years that all my sisters-in-law tend to get more attention than I do from their spouses.......which I know is how it's supposed to be, but it still stung a bit.) So since I wasn't the number one girl in his life anymore he dropped on the favoritism list as well. After Jason, my favorite brother award passed a few brothers and went to my brother Mark.

Mark is the brother directly above me in the sibling line-up and Mark, I would have to say, is the most loving and passionate, although admittedly crazy and sometimes very dumb, of all my brothers. My dad would always say, "Mark is the dumbest smart person I have ever met." Not that he tried to be dumb or that he wasn't genius, because he was. He just made the stupidest mistakes and decisions sometimes. But he was just so lovable while doing it. I've heard people refer to him as the cute little black lab, always smiling and always wagging his tail back and forth. Mark was the brother who always showed me the most affection and who always wanted my opinion, and I loved him so much for that. But then Mark went on his mission and I was left at home with only my little demon brother, Daniel.

Growing up, Daniel was the typical youngest child. He was spoiled, bratty, lazy, annoying, and he could get my mom to do anything he asked. In all honesty, I developed my list and kept it going just to hurt Daniel. Daniel was the only brother I ever told about my list but, ashamed as I am about it now, I only told him so he would know he was on the very bottom of that list every time. (But in all fairness he did tell me that his favorite sister was our dog, Nikita.)

So Daniel was just as annoying as he had ever been, until the day that Mark left home and it was just the two of us. I don't know what happened, I felt the same, but Daniel started acting like a normal brother. He wanted to hang out with me, he wanted me to hang out with him. He wanted my opinion, and my help with girls, math, and all kinds of other things. Knowing I should be a good sister, no matter what happened in the past, I would help him out, let him hang out me and and vice versa. Gradually, especially through our two shared years of high school, I came to not think of Daniel as my little brother that I couldn't stand, instead I began to really love and appreciate him.

I countlessly thought back on the words my dad had said to me about Daniel, "Because Daniel is the closest to you in age, you'll either become inseparably close, or you'll hate each other's guts." At the time he said that, I was sure it was the later. But in my senior year of high school I had a change of heart. Maybe I would become really close with Daniel. Maybe I already had. Mark was still on his mission though, so I couldn't be sure I actually liked Daniel better than him. In addition to that dilemma, after going to college I got to spend a lot of time with all my other brothers, especially the ones that I had always really liked but were never really my favorites before. Now I wasn't really sure if I actually had a favorite.

Well, Mark comes back from his mission in five weeks, I don't see Daniel too often because he's all the way back home while I'm in Utah, and I've been too busy recently to spend much time with my brothers here. So for now the jury's still out. I definitely love them all and I can't really tell who's in what position on my "favorite list." But I think I might just drop the list. Like I said, I started it to make one of my brothers feel bad and that was never a good reason, plus I love that little guy to bits now. But one thing this list did make me realize, is how important my brothers are to me, and I'm sure that will never change.

1. My Name Is Not Kristta

My name is not Kristta, and boys are a very important part of my life. Why? Well one, because I am a girl, and two, because I grew up in a house with not one, not two, not three, but seven guys! (If you include my father.) Being a Mormon family, many people were not surprised with the great number of children my parents had, but in reality, having seven kids was not my parents' original plan at all.

My dad didn't really have a preference with the gender or number of kids he had. (He has told me that even though he would have been terrified to have six girls instead of six boys, he knew that God would help him out if he really needed it.) My mother, though, was an entirely different story. She grew up with a sister that was only a year younger than her and they had so much fun that she knew she wanted that for the daughters she would undoubtably have.

So my parents started having kids and child after child after child all turned out to be boys. Although my mother loved each of her sons with her whole heart she couldn't help but wish for the little girls she so desperately wanted. She prayed and prayed and FINALLY... God answered her prayers. It was her sixth pregnancy and the doctors told my mom that there might be something wrongly with her pregnancy and that she would have to go take this test at a lab in a town three hours away to make sure everything was alright. It also just turned out that this test could very accurately determine the sex of your child. So she drove herself the three hours to the test and the three hours back. After a few weeks her doctor received her results from the lab and gave her a call. The first words he said were, "Are you sitting down?" She was so worried! Was there actually something wrong with her baby?! But no, the doctor just knew how excited she would be. "You're results are fine, but I just thought I'd tell you........ you're having a girl." My mother was overjoyed! She told me that she might actually have fallen if she hadn't been sitting down.

Just a few months later my mother gave birth to me. My parent's prayers had finally been answered. She, my father, and my brothers all decided to name me Kristta, but a few weeks after bringing me home, my mother just knew that the name didn't fit. Kristta was a beautiful name, but it just wasn't my name. So down on to the County Courthouse my parents went and they changed my name. So now my name is not Kristta, it is Kira. I used to hate the fact that my name is not Kristta. I used to get mad at my parents for changing it and I would demand that my friends call me Kristta instead of my legal name. Eventually I accepted it though, and I really don't mind any more. Now, I kind of like Kira.

However, after all this excitement, my mother still wanted that special relationship she had with her sister for me. So I did not remain the youngest child for long. Soon my mom was pregnant once more and once more, she was praying for a girl. (I often tease my little brother about this fact.) They soon found out that it would be a boy though, and they both knew their family was complete. They had seven beautiful children and even though she only had one daughter, my mother was absolutely in love with the family God had given her.