Fear Not

I've recently been fortunate enough to be given trials that increase my understanding for two very important things: trust & patience. 

Upon returning from the Middle East, I found myself feeling very frustrated about the way things were turning out. I had imagined the manner I would return to the life I had left behind and felt angry when the transition wasn't as seamless as I had anticipated. With half my friends being out of the state, the other half out of the country, and my best friend, mentor and father further than I'd like, I sunk into a melancholy and desolate place that I always try to avoid, but sometimes can't help succumbing to. 

I remember one night finding myself lying on the road in front of my house looking at the stars with tears streaming down my face as I told my dad I didn't know what to do. I felt so powerless to change my situation and was upset that my happiness seemed to be in the hands of others. My dad, being the great man that he is, listened as I sobbed and complained about my life and listened silently. He told me he understood how I felt and emphasized the importance of praying, and turning to The Lord. He told me I didn't need to tell God what I wanted or needed, He knew. I had to serve, be an example, and trust that Heavenly Father would give me what I needed when He saw best. 

Since I was living at home, the ward I was assigned to go to was a YSA ward. The idea of being in an awkward social situation made my stomach turn and I wasn't near ready to face my home ward and the questions that would be associated with my return to the states. I decided to find a ward on campus and hopefully find some solace. I walked into an auditorium not knowing anyone, but sensing it would be a good outcome. The speakers that day spoke about the importance of patience in decision making, the value of agency, and trusting in our Heavenly Father's plan for us. My favorite quote from that meeting was from C.S. Lewis, 

"God has infinite attention, infinite leisure to spare for each one of us. He doesn't have to take us in the line. You're as much alone with Him as if you were the only thing He'd ever created."

As I heard the speaker reference this great man and his inspired words, I felt my eyes swell with emotion. I knew I was hearing what The Lord wanted me to hear. I was where he wanted me to be. I left that meeting with a newfound determination to trust The Lord and believe in the love He has for me. 

My personality is one where...I prefer to be in control. The idea of being vulnerable and at the mercy of others' decisions frightens me. Returning home from Jordan, the situation in Israel got worse and worse. I felt that same frustration of not being able to help or do anything and I remembered a conversation I had with a dear friend of mine while I was overseas about the fighting in the country next to us. This was about 2 months ago and oddly enough, when I was in Jordan I knew very little about what was happening. As my friend educated me and shared personal experiences of her own life and the way it had been effected, I saw her begin to cry. This girl is a beautiful person whose personality and character is a summation of everything good. She is always giving, always smiling, and always serving others. To see her filled with such sadness broke my heart. I didn't know what to say or how to comfort her. I felt helpless.

Today I sat down to eat and as I began to reach for my phone, I felt the inclination instead to read my scriptures. I opened the book without thinking and began reading the first things I saw, "Psalms 46".

A scripture that I've assigned as my life mantra popped up in the chapter heading, 

"Be still and know that I am God."

I continued reading and as I read the following verses, I thought of my friend and the situation in the Middle East, "He maketh wars to cease unto the end of the earth; he breaketh the bow, and cutteth the spear in sunder; he burneth the chariot in the fire. Be still, and know that I am God: I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth. The Lord of hosts is with us; the God of Jacob is our refuge. Selah."

I know that things happen that are out of our control. I know that bad things happen to good people. I know that people use their agency to hurt others, and that is heartbreaking. But I also know that God is real. I know that he is aware of us and "a very present help in trouble" (Psalms 46:1)

As I concluded my reading the following verse of hymn entered my mind, 

"Fear not, I am with thee; oh, be not dismayed, for I am thy God and will still give thee aid. I'll strengthen thee, help thee, and cause thee to stand..."

Contrasts

This weekend I was hit with the stark reality of contrast. 

A friend from work invited Noe and I to a family wedding. I was over the moon excited, since I had heard Arab weddings were quite the event. The women in her family seemed to be just as excited when they heard I'd be attending and couldn't stop talking about the dress I would wear and the make-up they'd put on me. The day of the wedding, her son, a senior in college named...let's call him "A", picked us all up from work and we started the long drive to their home. 

Once we got there, I was whisked away into a flurry of make-up, dresses, and hair. When one of the women began doing my make-up, I noticed she was putting pink eye shadow on me. I cringed and contemplated telling her I was not about that life, but as I noticed the small group gathering around her as she styled me to her liking, a sudden realization hit me: this was not for me. This whole make over experience was for these women. Weddings are a rare opportunity for them to take off their hijab, put on tight dresses, and dance to their hearts content. It was a chance to enjoy themselves and their womanhood, if only for a couple hours. 

Sometime later, we all piled into a car and headed to the event location. As we drew near, the men suddenly separated from the women. I had a moment of panic, not knowing what was happening, but my friend quickly told me not to worry, the men had their own area and I would be safe with her. We entered a beautifully decorated hall with tables full of chairs. There was a small dance area and concourses of women. Women, everywhere. Just women. It was like walking into an Arab Prom. Arab women are beautiful by nature, but when you add false eyelashes, pounds of make-up, and a ton of glitter; the result is downright intimidating. The women were stunning. They were all happy and laughing and I must have met/kissed at least a couple dozen. Only a few donned the traditional hijab. I sat and zoned out as Arabic began to be spoken all around me. After about an hour, I wondered where Noe was, and when the boys would be joining us. I asked a young girl who spoke a little English when I could expect the men, and she quickly said, "No men."

My stomach dropped as I realized I would be with these gorgeous women for another couple hours with no one to talk to. The night progressed, and as my lungs slowly filled with nicotine smoke, I assured myself it was almost over. After what felt like a little eternity, we finally began to file out and as we stepped outside, I began to look for Noe. There were men everywhere, standing near the cars, waiting for the women. I saw A who waved us over, but still no Noe. When we got closer, I asked where he was. Her son responded, "He's with my dad. They're at our house. We are going to them." Her younger son drove the car, and as we piled too many people in the small sedan, A somehow ended up next to me. Men and women aren't typically seen in public together and in car seating, it's not appropriate for a man and a women to sit next to each other. I guess being here for the past month and a half has started to effect my cultural acclimation because I felt my anxiety rising as our legs touched. I tried to ignore it, and instead focused my attention on the woman next to me, whose elbow was puncturing my lung. 

After a fairly long drive, we approached a house and the car stopped. I looked around confused as everyone began to get out of the car. This wasn't my friend's house. "Where's Noe?" I asked. When everything around you is foreign, it's incredible how much you begin to value the familiar and not being near Noe was starting to worry me. My friend quickly answered, "He's coming. 5 minutes." As everyone began to walk towards the house, A stopped me. "Jessica. I have a surprise for you." His mom stopped walking and turned to me smiling. "What?" I had heard him the first time, but the discomfort I had felt in the car was slowly started to grow. He repeated himself, "I have a surprise for you, please. 5 minutes." I looked at my friend, pretending to not know what was going on. A got in the car, turned it on and waved me in. My heart sank and I began to feel my anxiety rising. "La. La." I responded, no. His mom said, "It's fine. It's only 5 minutes." He began to call from the car, "Please, Jessica. Just 5 minutes." The sick feeling in my stomach was now almost palpable. I grabbed my friend's 9 year-old daughter and said, "I'm bringing her with me." All at once, A, the little girl, and his mother started protesting. "If she doesn't go, I'm not going." I'm not sure why I was so adamant about bringing her, but I knew I didn't want to be alone with A. Finally, they agreed and as I got in and buckled my seatbelt, my friend approached my open car door window and said, "Just 10 minutes." I felt the blood leave my face as the time allotted for this "surprise" increased by 5 minutes. 

He began driving towards a small town and as he spoke Arabic to his little sister, I couldn't ignore the uneasiness I felt. Finally, the car stopped. He told me to get out, and I grabbed the little girl's hand as I followed him into a jewelry store. "If you see anything you like, let me know." I quickly nodded and sat down. He started showing me various heart lockets, most encrusted with precious stones, all the polar opposite of anything I'd ever wear. "Do you like this? This?" I responded I didn't want him to buy me anything. He told me it wasn't for me, and continued to show me different jewelry items, asking if I liked anything. I said no to everything, and didn't let go of the little girl's hand. After a while he thanked the sales clerk and crossed the street to yet another jewelry store. I felt my heart pounding as the same conversation began, "Do you like this?" I must have said no 50 times that night. The "surprise" ended up taking about an hour and a half and consisted of 7 jewelry stores, the little girl constantly pushing me towards her brother and insisting I pick something, and A saying nauseating things like, "You are the moon." "I feel happy when I see you." "Can Mormons marry Muslims?" "Will you come back to Jordan?" and "I don't care, I bought this for you."

When we finally returned to the house where his mother was, I noticed I was shaking. I was so afraid and uncomfortable with the entire situation that I could literally feel my entire body trembling. It was dark at this point, and as the car came to a stop, the little girl sprinted from the back seat. "Where is Noe?" I asked. "Oh, he'll be here soon. Maybe 5 minutes." At this point, I had began to despise the phrase "5 minutes." I began to get out of the car when he told me to wait. He said he would drive me to another house, where Noe was. At this point, the dark feeling I had felt all night was practically burning me up inside. I ignored him and began to run into the house. Once inside, I felt humiliated as I was greeted by his entire family. They were all kind and welcoming, but I couldn't help and wonder if they knew the purpose of A's "surprise." His mother smiled at me and asked if I was happy. I silently nodded. I asked where Noe was and she responded with the familiar, "He'll be here in 5 minutes." They served me food, and as I crouched near a corner to eat, I sensed A sit right behind me and begin to smoke. I wanted to disappear. 

After about an hour, I heard some commotion near the front door and I saw A's father walk in. I quickly looked behind him and thankfully, after what seemed like hours, I saw Noe. I ran and hugged him as my eyes welled up with tears. He asked if I was okay and I told him I wanted to go home. 

Long story short, I learned a valuable lesson that night. I thought I had been hurt by guys before, or been disrespected, but nothing in my life has come close to how upsetting that night was. The fact that my constant negative responses were ignored and his advances increased in aggression made me feel more oppressed than I've ever felt. When I got home, I felt so angry at myself. How had I let myself get into that situation? Why hadn't I seen it coming? Furthermore, how would we be able to accept other invitations to my friend's home? How was I supposed to continue to have a professional relationship with her?

The internal anger affected me more than I thought. The following 3 days were a blur of random flashbacks followed by bursts of sobbing that I tried my hardest to hide. Doing so, of course, influenced my mood around my internship group, and I found myself wanting both to be alone, but petrified at the idea that A could be behind any corner. 

I went to work this morning nervous to see how I would act near his mother. However, within a few minutes of arriving at the ministry, I was invited on a field visit to a women's center. I went, not really sure what to expect. I sat through a meeting with a group of men and women and after a while, one of them told me she would introduce me to their intern, so I could learn more about the center. I met Costenze, an italian whose specialty was honor killings. She sat with me and began to explain what SIGO-Jo, the center's objectives were. Their 4 main goals were to prevent 1) child labor, 2) human trafficking, 3) gender-based violence, and 4) early marriage. 
I was so impressed with the entire atmosphere of the center, and as she began to talk about women's rights, I felt my heart swell. She spoke of oppression and harassment as not only inconsistent with the teachings of the Quran, but as a violation of human rights. The center's goal was not only to give women the chance to do great things, but have the right to choose.  I couldn't help but reflect on my experience this past weekend. Buying someone jewelry isn't a bad thing. Telling someone they are beautiful isn't a bad thing. But, stripping away their choice to accept the aforementioned, is a very bad thing. A had taken away my right to choose, and my power to control my environment. This weekend was important, because it solidified my stance towards women's rights.

No one has the right to force someone to do something. Regardless of whether it is a good or bad thing. I'm grateful I experienced what I did. I hope I'll remember what I'm feeling and strive to never make someone feel this way.

The Beauty in Helplessness

About a week ago a few of the interns started feeling sick. Our ailments ranged from fever to flu like symptoms, and we weren't really sure where or how we caught our illnesses. As the days passed, every one slowly began to recuperate; everyone but me. We couldn't figure out what was wrong, so I tried every kind of diet, thinking maybe it was something I ate. There were days where I only ate saltines and tea. There were days when I only had water. There were days when I ate normally. Each time, I got sick. As we contemplated the cause, my roommates and I realized that my unsettled job situation could be the cause. I was diagnosed with anxiety a couple weeks before leaving the states, and though the doctor said my results were extremely high, she didn't feel the need to prescribe anti-anxiety pills. 

I started to feel afraid as I noticed I wasn't getting any better. One day I was talking to Marissa and she mentioned she had been mulling over what could be the problem. Marissa and I have been friends for almost a year, and she knows most everything about me. She knows I battle with a self-deprecating dialogue, I stress to the point of shaking, and she was the first person I told about my diagnosis. She suggested that my sickness was a result of my anxiety. Literally, my own mind with its imperfections, was making me physically sick. 

I didn't know what to do. How do you cure your body when it's assailant is your mind? Luckily, I have been extraordinarily blessed with a fantastic group of people out here and everyone came together to help me. Marissa suggested I stick to an overtly healthy diet and begin exercising regularly. Kaiti assisted me in writing a note to my supervisor in the ministry alerting him that I wouldn't be able to make it to work, & Daniel and Noe were over this morning to give me a priesthood blessing. 

I had initially been hesitant to ask for a blessing, fearing that I would come across as weak. I told this to my mom and she reminded me that such "negativity is not of God". When I spoke to my father, he also suggested I ask for a blessing, even though he didn't know my mom had suggested it just hours before. 

After the blessing, I felt peace. My body wasn't instantly healed, but as the day went on I began to feel my strength slowly be regained. 

As I ponder these past few days, I realize there's so much beauty in being helpless. Is there anything more wonderful that exhausting all earthly powers to be healed? Knowing the only cure is your faith in Jesus Christ? What is more glorious than kneeling down in prayer and admitting to The Lord that you understand He's the only one who can help you? 

I'm grateful the medicine didn't work. I'm glad fasting didn't do the trick. I'm so thankful the Lord humbled me to the place where it's lonely and quiet enough to understand He's the only person that can ease my burdens.  

3 Lessons in 3 Weeks

As I approach my month mark here in the Holy Land, I feel humbled by the eye-opening experiences I've had and the lessons I've been tenderly taught by providence. I have been shown the power of true leadership, the value of patience, and the power of motherhood, just to name a few. 

Last week, those of us working for the Ministry of Social Development met with the Secretary General and other directors of different programs we'd be working at. As our names and corresponding directors' were read, there was a sudden outburst from one of the men. Arabic began to be thrown loudly from one end of the table to the other and I sat stunned as the Secretary General and this ministry employee conversed in a language I haven't even begun to get a grasp of. After what felt like a small eternity, the SG turned to us and apologized. He explained that the director was frustrated because the intern he had been assigned didn't speak Arabic & he didn't understand what he was supposed to do with that. Basically, the SG shut him down in the most respectful way. He told us that he explained to this man that they, as employees of the ministry had the opportunity to learn from us, the interns. He spoke about having diplomas and doctorates and certificates, but the fact that none of the directors ever practice their English. He emphasized that this was the time to do that.
After that, the meeting continued and concluded with no incident. The Secretary General's actions however, impressed me long after we left. 

My idea of leadership has been changed in the greatest way. Leadership is not holding your accomplishments over someone's head as leverage. A true leader sees every interaction as an opportunity to learn, regardless of with whom he's interacting with. Anyone can belittle those who seem to know less, but it takes a special sort of power to be able to lower yourself to the level of those that may not have accomplished as much as you, yet. 

Jordan has helped me to see the parts of my character that are weak & ways to improve them. I am not a patient person. I like things to get done the moment they need to be done and I don't like to waste time. The Middle East values relationships more than time, which I'm beginning to understand. My first day working at Waqe3, we walked in around ten minutes to ten. I could feel my anxiety rising as we walked in; surely we'd get in trouble for being late. We were greeted with smiles and after introductions, we were asked to sit. We were brought tea and we conversed for another hour before we even headed back to our work space. I'm learning that 5 minutes sometimes means an hour, or maybe tomorrow, and that's okay. In the United States we've glorified being punctual, even early, regardless of whom we may need to step on to ensure we arrive on time. My rush and haste have no place here in Amman, and I'm grateful for the peace this change has brought to my soul. 

The original game plan was to work at an orphanage. As most of us know, however, man plans & God laughs. I didn't end up having a strong enough spirit to work at the orphanage. For a few days this left me feeling ashamed and depressed. I felt so inadequate & my heart broke that I had let everyone who expected great things from me, down. But I decided to see what I had learned from my experience, rather than allowing it to deprecate my self worth. When I was at the orphanage I realized more than ever the importance of motherhood. I reflected on my own relationship with my angel mother. We didn't have a perfect relationship, I don't think anyone does, but the beautiful reality is, she was there. She kicked me out, she yelled at me, and we fought. But she was there to kick me out, there to yell at me, and there to fight with me and I am so infinitely grateful to her for that. 

Mothers have the most important and powerful job in the world. Their work has been reduced to an almost shameful position, unfortunately. This has been the work of him that opposes good and light. The adversary understands the influence of mothers, and has as a result, attempted to diminish it to a laughable status. We cannot allow this cycle to continue. Mothers teach boys how to respect women. Mothers teach girls how to value their womanhood. Each of us can, and should, respect and honor the title of 'mother', as well as the angel women who possess it. Everyone can honor motherhood. Single women can by honoring the divine potential they have. Single men can, by reminding those women of their divinity when the world tries to get them to forget. Fathers, loving and respecting your wives is the greatest gift you can give your children. Children, take the time to see how truly fortunate you are to have a mother, not everyone does. 

Lead humbly, be patient, and love your mother. 

He who kneels before God can stand before anyone

In my first week in Amman, I’ve reflected on a reoccurring thought: anything is possible with The Lord. The first revelation confirming this fact came as my group sat at a Yemenis restaurant one of the first nights we had all arrived.

“Guys, we’re in the Middle East.”

Various responses of ‘yeah’ and ‘whoops’ rang out in response. But, I don’t think they understood what I was trying to say. I continued, “Guys, we are in the Middle East. Like, what can’t we do?”

Traveling across the world is not something trite for me. It wasn’t something I decided a couple weeks ago. It was a long process that started in November of last year and included a lot of paperwork, luck, persistence, and kind people. For someone like me, living abroad was something I could only daydream about.

God made it a reality.

I struggle with occasional bouts of depression and during my last episode; my mom gave me some wonderful advice, which was re-suggested by Elder Uchtdorf a few weeks later during April General Conference. She told me to be grateful, and record what I was grateful for in my journal. I’ve started something I call “My 3 Gratitude’s” where every night, I write down the 3 things I was most grateful for that day.

This exercise is truly inspired. Sometimes, you have to take the time to praise God, and make an actual note of what He’s done for you. If you’re not careful, you may overlook it. I didn’t think I’d survive exchanging various currencies. But God put 2 kind men in my path at the Frankfurt airport who took the time to explain the process to me, as well as help me attach my adapter to my phone charger so I could get ahold of my parents and let them know I was alive.

When I first arrived in Jordan, my recently diagnosed anxiety was through the roof. I had no idea how I would be able to get from one place to another in a taxi when the little Arabic I had learned over the past 4 months seemed to evaporate into thin air. I felt misplaced and unsure of myself. I decided to go to the grocery store with a couple of people from my group and while I was browsing the pasta, a man approached me. We are told to not be overtly friendly with the men here, as it is against social norm for men and women to be too social in public. But the man looked at me with the biggest smile and said, “Where are you from?!” I hesitated for a moment, but felt the Spirit assure me that it was okay. I responded I was from the United States and the man practically started shedding tears of joy. He immediately started conversing with me in English about how much he loved the U.S. and naming off all the cities he’s gone to. He then started listing all the things I had to do while I was in Jordan. I can’t explain how I felt speaking to this man, other than my heart melted. I felt love emanating from him and I felt the similarity between him and my father’s social habits. Speaking to him reminded me of home, in the sweetest way. When we finished conversing I said, “tasharafna!” which roughly translates to ‘nice meeting you’ and he looked me in the eyes, pointed to himself and said,

“Me more. Me more.”

In that moment, during that time, I needed that interaction more than anything. God knew it, and He provided it.

This morning we headed to Dabouq for a bike ride. Now, I know I’m not an athlete, and rumor had it this bike ride was about 15 miles long and included a lot of big, uphill roads. I thought about this a lot. This didn’t sound like something that I would enjoy. When talking to my parents last night they encouraged me to do it. As I arose this morning I wondered what on earth I was getting myself into. As weird as it sounds, I felt calm because I prayed about it. I prayed to God to give me the strength to take part in this physical feat. A little voice in my head reminded me that if I kept eating multiple bags of chips and cookies every week, it didn’t matter how hard I prayed; but I maintained my conviction that anything was possible with God.

I wish I could illustrate how difficult the bike ride was for me. Before we started the woman in charge stated that it was the “intermediate/advanced” ride and I felt myself die a little inside. There was a bus that stayed behind the end of the line in case anyone couldn’t do it, to pick them up and let them ride the rest of the way. The path was long. It was so, so, so, excruciatingly long. It seemed every time I rode down a large hill, there were 2 larger uphill treks awaiting me. There were so many times that I wanted to get on that cursed bus that stayed annoyingly close behind me, but I refused.

As I continued I saw to the right of me, a body of water and another section of land that I came to find out were the Dead Sea and Palestine/Israel. That alone made the body trembling experience worth it, for me. Seeing with my eyes the land of God. When I finally completed the bike ride, there was a mountain, Machaerus, that my group decided to go check out. Of course, after an intensive, multiple-hour long bike ride, the first thing everyone decided to do was hike a mountain. But as I approached the bottom, a sign read the description of the location, which was believed to be where John the Baptist was beheaded. It has been truly unreal to be in the land where so many of the things we read about in the scriptures occurred.

I’ve fallen in love with this country. It is so rich in history and so beautiful, in millions of ways. As I sat on the bus heading home I marveled at His power. I couldn’t help but smile as I looked out the window to the humble countryside. Nothing is impossible for Him.

He can help me battle 18.2 (!!!) miles of uphill roads.

He can bring the everlasting gospel to the Middle East.

I know without Him I am nothing & with him I can do anything. 

Matthew 18:2

This morning was a STRUGGLE to get out of bed. Okay, every morning is a struggle to get out of bed...but I did, and managed to arrive at work only 3 minutes after 7.

The morning dragged on forever. I was running around most of the time, but I love the office I work at, so it's really not so bad.

After work, I ran home and a couple friends of mine picked me to go volunteer at a local elementary. This will make literally no sense, but any social situation (any situation, really) that is new to me makes me super uncomfortable. So, as I walked the halls of the elementary school reeking with nostalgia, I could feel my stomach getting more and more nauseated. We walked into the classroom & I quickly looked for all the possible exits, just in case. I stood there sort of dumfounded as a table of 5 year-olds stared at me. Suddenly, an adorable long-haired boy got up, stretched his arms out, and walked over to me; reaching for a hug. I responded with an "oh!" and laughed as I knelt down to meet him.

Then, he turned around and sat back down. 

Literally, kids are the best. Who just welcomes someone they don't know like that? He didn't know anything about me.

If we all treated people we were unsure of the same way this boy treated me, can you imagine how happy the world could be? He will never know what his innocent kindness meant to me, or the impact it had on my day * ultimately, paradigm. But if we can extract wisdom from experiences like this, maybe we can perpetuate that same joy for other people; willingly.

Shouldn't we?

Wouldn't He?

I completely understand Christ's counsel now to "become as little children."