Yep, I'm a Mormon.

I remember a conversation I had with a friend in high school that went similar to this:

friend: "yeah, isn't (person) Mormon?"

me: "Yes, (person) is. I am too, you know."

friend: "You are!? I had no idea. You don't seem like ... well, ..."

me: "I don't seem like a Mormon?"

friend: "I just didn't expect you to be Mormon."

This conversation made me realize there are a LOT of misconceptions about my faith.

(Someone else once told me I didn't believe in Jesus Christ. Unfortunately, his pastor forgot to mention that my church is officially The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.)

And I realize talking to LDS members (we like to use that nickname instead of "Mormon") can be scary, or "dangerous" of getting sucked into the waters of baptism. Sometimes, all you want is an answer to a question, but get a lot more than you asked for. (We just want to share what we have, remember that. We're a proselyting church because we don't want to keep what we have to ourselves.)

That is why mormon.org is such a great solution!

Check it out. There are endless answers to endless questions that you've always wondered. And there are members (including yours truly) that have created profiles where you can read their stories and why they're LDS and whatever else they want to tell the world. You can chat with missionaries online if you wanna, or get a free Book of Mormon in the mail. No strings attached! It's great, and you find me fully supporting it.

Word of the Day: Pervasive \per-VAY-siv\, adj; 1. Having the quality or tendency to permeate.

Florida, the Sunshine State

In the last year, I've walked three different coasts of the U.S.

The beach in Galveston, Texas, was not particularly enthralling ... Although, there were some cool paintings on this type of cliff that ran along the beach. We only stopped long enough to walk around and take pictures, but I don't think we were too disappointed missing out on the murky water and stinky fish.

The West Coast ... a fabled, popularized phrase and dream that most people use to glaze over the reality of the dark sand and frigid waters. But it was pretty nice, I'll admit it. Great for nature-lovers, appreciators of beauty, and die-hard WC natives. The Oregon Coast does hold a special place in my heart, it was rather captivating.

And I've just returned from Florida two days ago. There's a reason people put up with the massive insects and arachnids (Have you ever seen a Banana Spider? EW) and getting boiled alive in humidity. And it is the beaches.

Beautiful white sands are endless in your eyes and mostly warm waves make your eyes burn with salt. We had SO much fun getting pushed around by the waves, joking about shark attacks, only to be surprised by a school of jumping fish right around us. "Why are they doing that?" asked one of my cousins to her dad. "Well ... that means there's a bigger fish around somewhere." We all got a little nervous and backed up, only to miss seeing three dolphins up close as they followed the school of fish.

(This is my cousin Andrew.)

The following is also somewhere around Florida ... and yes, those would be sharks and people in the same location.

I got waaay too much sun, as my peeling nose and forehead can attest, but it was definitely a great time spent on that Florida beach. (Crescent Beach, in case you are wondering.)

Some of the other wildlife we saw (or didn't see) were alligators.

Yes indeed, this is THE gator of University of Florida. I do have a small amount of allegiance to UF. My Grandpa Tillman taught there years ago, and though I might have grown out of my UF t-shirts, I still sometimes cheer for them.

This was the only black widow I saw on my grandparents' back porch, but probably one of 10 large spiders seen in one night. I CANNOT do large arachnids. I cannot.

(This was probably a leg-span of at least 2.5 inches ... I didn't really want to measure too closely.)

Anyway, we had a family reunion in Gainesville, more accurately, Alachua. My grandparents own farmland, and so we had a grand time wandering their tree-farm and swimming in my uncle's pool, which is also on the property. The Itchatucknee River, a natural lazy river, is a tradition that is definitely loved and looked forward to, as you sit on a tube and float down a crystal clear river.

Boiled peanuts. I love them. People back west think they're weird, or nasty, or just plain wrong. And I admit, if I hadn't eaten them before, I would think there is something odd about eating a very wet, slimy and mushy peanut. But there is something so satisfying about opening a shell and finding four plumped peanuts jammed together, perfect for the taking. mmmm. And I plan on broadening a few horizons when I get back to Provo ... watch out!

Needless to say, it was a great family reunion ... and this photo is still missing 20 people.

Word of the Day: undercast \UHN-der-kast\, noun; Something viewed from above through another medium, as of clouds viewed through an airplane.

Red, White, and Blue on a birthday cake

That is a line from one of my favorite songs, Sam's Town (Live from Abbey Road, acoustic version) by The Killers. (I am a partial fan of The Killers. some stuff I really like, some stuff I really don't. But different post for different day.)

"my brother he was born, on the Fourth of July, and that's all."

With Lady Liberty's birthday just on the horizon, I figure it is time for a little bit of patriotic jargon.

(And I know at least 2 people with their birthdays on the same as Her Lady, Miss United States of America. Happy Birthdays tomorrow to you both, Katja and Anderson! (And I know one just the day prior, birthday shout out to you today, Ms. Megan Hatch.))

It is amazing what a large impact those three colors grouped together have. I'm not talking about the dollar section at Target, where everything from really cheapo foam patriotic hats and junk to semi-acceptable picnic plates are sold (though I know the section well, and usually am a few dollars less when I leave that section). I'm talking about the REAL deal.

Seeing the United States flag thrashing majestically through a hot summer wind. Having those delicious berry/jello/cream dessert things at a 4th picnic along with your hamburger and cold cherry 7UP. Seeing anyone in an Army, Naval, Marine, or AirForce uniform. Seeing old ladies with their Kohl's t-shirts that say "God Bless America" walk around the grocery store. Somehow, through a mysterious force, any of those things manage to make me choke a little and pause to realize how lucky I am to live in the United States of America.

Sure, this nation has made lots of mistakes, and I don't downplay those in the least, and I am sorrowful for the millions affected by war, whether the families of recently downed soldiers or the retired army veterans that are gently shuffled from retirement center to retirement center.

My own grandfather (most recently turned 94) fought in World War II, on the islands of Lady and Okinawa, among others. His stories were great ones, now getting clouded over with time and age, and I regret to say I have not kept track of his stories as well as I should. There is an infinite wisdom shared, as well as gained, while listening to a veteran discuss things of horror, things of bravery, things of sacrifice, and things of love for one's family and country.

But I couldn't believe what a huge relief it was to cross back onto the beautiful land of this country. My subconscious suddenly released a hidden worry I had carried with me all the while in Canada. There's nothing wrong with Canada, it's a great place. But my roots are my nation, and I didn't realize just how much I loved it until I saw the US flag flower garden upon approaching the Canada/US border.

I think we forget just how HUGE the United States actually is. The farthest I travel in my circle of life here at home is about 45 minutes away. Everything I need is within 30 miles of my house. I regularly see the same 100-200 people, who themselves are wrapped up in their own cycles, and that's life. But there are 309 million people who call themselves US citizens, spanned over 3.79 million square miles. And however much some people love and some people hate it, we ARE the real deal. You and I and the old man up the street and that ruddy group of teens smoking around the corner and the kindly woman at the grocery store make up the Red, White, and Blue. We represent the American Flag.

What a responsibility! What a charge! And I believe most of the time, we do quite nicely. But that's my own opinion.

Francis Scott Key's 1814 birth of our national anthem is probably being sung at every public gathering this weekend. But how many times with the 4th verse be sung?

Oh! Thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand

Between their loved home and war's desolation!

Blest with victory and peace, may the heav'n rescued land

Praise the Power that hath made and preserved us a nation.

Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,

And this be our motto: "In God is our trust."

And the star-spangled banner in triumph shall wave

O'er the land of the free, and the home of the brave!

I hope we will not be foolish enough to ignore a Divine hand in our freedoms, or even try to knock it out of the way as we're blindly flailing about. I get tired of the church vs. state business, because it was the freedom of religion that drove the patriots from England's shores.

Edward Fuller left England on the Mayflower with his small family, and died the first winter at Plymouth rock. Not much of a life, eh? He was probably very poor in England, fed up with whatever persecutions were going on, made large sacrifices to get his family on that ship, and then died, before he could truly enjoy the blessings of freedom.

8 generations later, I am fully enjoying (and usually taking for granted) those freedoms that my great-grandfather valiantly sacrificed and eventually died for. I didn't know him. But I am grateful for Edward Fuller, and I am grateful for his grit. And I will be doing what I can to honor his sacrifice, as well as thank my Lord that he arrived safely on these blessed shores.

God Bless America.

Word of the Day: Antaean \an-TEE-un\, adjective; 1. Mammoth. 2. To have superhuman strength.