St. George Marathon

The St.George Marathon.

After 4 months of training, the moment finally came.

My journey.

After all of those early morning runs, hours cross training in the gym, attempts to make old, supportive shoes look good with skirts, and endeavors to eat healthy (failing cause), the moment finally arrived. My entire summer built up to this moment….THE ST. GEORGE MARATHON BABY!!!

I spontaneously signed up in hopes that this would motivate me to get back into shape. I often questioned this spontaneity many times, especially over the course when the practice runs went for several hours. Nevertheless a marathon was not going to be any easier in the future- seize the day right!?!

I must first express the anxiety of the week prior to the marathon that made this event more miraculous than it already turned out to be. After Rach and I endeavored on our longest run prior to the marathon, 20 miles, my IT band and my shins began to act up. What seemed like an easy 3 miles, turned into torture. I iced and messaged my legs several hours a day for the entire week building up for the big day. I remember vividly two days before the marathon I went on a ten minute jog, barefoot on the grass in a nearby park. I just sobbed as I ran thinking how this irritation and pain I was feeling running no more than ONE mile would escalate throughout the course of 26.2 miles. I researched and heard horror stories of how a little pain before a marathon could result in an entire season of no activity or worse, permanent damage. Of course, these fears I had built up over the span of the week wouldn’t stop me, I planned to run the marathon October 1^st and that is what I was going to do. After a week spent in constant prayer and a blessing from a few stellar friends, I was as equipped as I would ever be.

From this point on I knew this marathon would be running more on faith than physical stamina.

After several sessions of carbo-loads (which never seem to get too old) and an unexpected hour drive in the desert looking for the cabin we planned to stay in near the starting line, 5:30 AM never came faster. Gearing up with GU, ibuprofen, compression socks, a tape job by Tris, and a quick message with a little soothe I was ready to go. We all piled up in Tris’s car and headed over to the starting line. There were two large lights penetrating the night sky indicating where the starting line was.

I WAS SO EXCITED!!!!

I am convinced there are few better things in this world than race environments. There is so much energy and passion that it is impossible not to be happy and pumped for the endeavors ahead. People of all ages, sizes, and athletic abilities gathered behind the starting line.

The gun went off.

Ten minutes later we left. Pacing is an obvious skill to learn when running a marathon. With all the adrenalin built up from the start and the hours that went into this moment, I had to continually remind myself to set a comfortable pace. After all it is 26 miles.

The first 13 miles, I could not even contain my enthusiasm. It was wonderful. Rach and I were running at a good pace, I was feeling fresh. MY LEGS DIDN’T HURT. It was a miracle!! I couldn’t have visualized anything more perfect. I am so GRATEFUL for how my body felt. Medicine, compression socks, and tape are nothing in comparison with FAITH.

The miles leading up to 18 went fast. I knew once I saw the mile 18 marker everything would be ok.

Along the way, Rach and I met a new friend. He was an older man that has run 74 marathons!!! He taught me a valuable lesson.

He ran up to Rach and I and said, “Hey, take your earphones out you beautiful girls!”

Obviously a little started by his demand, but more so by his abnormal amount of energy at this point in the race, I turned to him to listen.

He said, “This is one of the best experiences of your life, live it.” He went into detail how with every marathon his favorite part wasn’t necessarily finishing, although that is definitely an accomplishment, but it was the amazing people he meets along the way. I could tell by his chipper attitude, he was definitely right. He was having a lot more fun than I was at that moment.

So I took one earphone out and listened to his stories for the next few miles (music speaks to my soul).

Mile 21. My body felt worked.  Rachel went on because she felt better. She did so good throughout the race. So encouraging, optimistic, and such a strong runner! Love her!

So there I was running solo. Although my legs felt ok, I felt weak. I attempted to stop to hydrate and catch my breath; however, I was given the advice to keep going otherwise I would lose my pace.

THIS IS ANOTHER LESSON I LEARNED:  LISTEN TO YOUR BODY!!!! Don’t let ANYONE else tell you how to help your body. EVER! Although I drank at almost every water station, when in doubt HYDRATE. When in doubt, LISTEN! DRINK, DRINK, DRINK AND LOAD UP ON CARBS.

I continued onward. I trekked it out until mile 24 where my body began to shut down. I refused to walk. My stubborn personality and desire to finish dominated all other aspects of my physical health. I have never felt so physically spent and exhausted. My eyes glazed over and I was fighting to keep my eyelids open. I was praying at this point that I could just put one foot in front of the other. I could see on the people’s faces along the sidelines that I was not looking in the best of shape. I passed up a few stations (mistake!) in order to keep going. My body was trying to walk but I refused.

Finally the straightaway. This is the sight I have been preparing to see since mile one. Only a few hundred yards and I would be there. Left. Right. Left. Right. I tried to focus on my steps because I couldn’t think about anything else.

All of a sudden my body gave out and I blacked out. I remember feeling arms around me carrying me and trying to pull me off the course.

I just yelled, “No, No please don’t. I have to finish. I HAVE TO FINISH!” They, who I was not at the time grateful for but now am, persisted to pull me off the street.

I woke up to paramedics asking me questions. They put me on a stretcher and into an ambulance. At this point I lost all sanity and just went crazy…another lesson I learned, I DO NOT DO WELL WITH A LACK OF OXYGEN IN MY BRAIN.

My conversations went a little something like this (spoken in anything but an inside voice):

“I AM NORMAL. WHY AM I HERE? HELP ME, GET ME OUT OF HERE. I HAVE THINGS TO DO! ON A PAIN SCALE, MY LEG FEELS LIKE A 7 OUT OF 10- SOMEONE RUB THEM!  I PROMISE I AM NORMAL; I DO NOT USUALLY ACT LIKE THIS. I DON’T EVEN HAVE DIABETES. I AM A RUNNER. THIS SHOULDN’T BE HAPPENEING TO ME. IF MY TWIN SISTER FINISHED, HOW COME I COULDN’T-WE HAVE THE SAME DNA DON’T WE? NOW MY LEGS ARE AN 8 IS SOMEONE GOING TO RUB THEM? AH I DON’T FEEL BEAUTIFUL!! THIS IS THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE! I HAVE HW TO DO. IF SOMEONE PUT THIS ON YOUTUBE, IT WOULD BE VIRAL I KNOW IT!!!  I WAS SO CLOSE, SO CLOSE!! DON’T MAKE ME GO INTO THE SICK TENT. I AM BETTER THAN THAT!

The paramedic said I was about 800 yards away from the finish line and said I was close enough.. I TOLD HIM CLOSE ENOUGH IS NOT FINISHING. I NEED TO FINISH.

I was having a mental breakdown at this point. They pulled me out of the ambulance in which I was then elaborating on my confidence levels. As we moved further toward the “sick tent” my confidence was decreasing because I could see people’s concerned expressions. I demanded them to cover me with a sheet but they insisted I would cause drama by looking like a corpse, I didn’t care. People were looking at me and laughing-it was then that I saw Rachel. I identified to the paramedics that was my twin sister. Then I also saw Spencer Anderson in the crowd to which I pointed at and established we had dated! Providence. I couldn’t have asked to see two better people at a time like this.

The conversations only went downhill from there (I will spare the details).

I need to remind myself I was extremely dehydrated with a temperature of 103. I obviously was lacking oxygen in my brain and therefore not coherent because I was nothing short of blunt and demanding, even rude (It was refreshing to be able to speak your mind with no restrictions I must admit). This was one of the hottest marathons St. George has held.  That would also explain why the “sick tent,” was overflowing with people in need.

They laid me on a bed next to a man also in excruciating pain. He definitely looked how I felt. There is nothing like being in that tent. Although running environments are one of the best, sick tents are perhaps one of the worst. It was hot and moist and body fluids were all over. And flies, there were flies everywhere smothering all the bodies on the beds and floors. People looked horrible.

After cooling me down, Tim rubbed my then growing charlie horse that I wanted and asked so many people to rub. I have never been in so much pain in my life… After a few threats to Tim’s life (which I can’t believe I would say) and declaring I would rather be in labor, it felt better.

My support system was more than I could ask for. My mom was rubbing my head as I was just sobbing not only from the pain but from the disappointment. I am so glad she came to watch Rach and I, I don't know what I would have done without her. Spencer, who I must say could not have been more kind and loving to me, just held my hand as they persisted to rub the knots and cramps out of my legs. And Rach, my comforting and supportive sister, was with me every second of the way constantly reminding me to drink water and to stop being so hard on myself.

They took the IV out of my arm and then my dream team support system helped me out of the bed, and began to walk me around the tent. After a marathon…I DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO WALK!?! This is when the reality of it hit me.

 I felt embarrassed. I felt like a failure. The thought came over and over in my mind, what if I just ate one more orange or drank one more glass of water? As my temperature decreased, so did the reality that I didn’t finish. Although it was only a few hundred yards, it made me sad.

I am hard on myself which doesn’t make this situation any easier. With all the training and preparations I did, I never anticipated ending the marathon like this.

However, I have never felt so loved. In the midst of one my most painful and disappointing moments, I had more support and encouragement than I could have asked for. I not only learned more about myself, digging to the very depths of my soul, but about those I love.

I am proud of myself for pushing my body to such limits.

 Running is a passion of mine. It is something I really care about (enough to pass out for). Running is not only physically exhilarating but it is a very spiritual to me. Running is part of my soul.

However, sometimes it might not always be about the race. Sometimes it is about what you put in and get out.

I must say I definitely got more out of this experience than I put in.

Our greatest glory, consist not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall.
Oliver Goldsmith

Let the training begin.

THE DIRTY DASH

Picture this:

The beautiful, natural landscape of midway. Now put a 10k course along the hills among the changing leaves and grass. But not just any course. It must be a course fully equipped to make one completely and hopelessly in love with mud. Simply add several hay barrels, climbing walls, rope swings, and a gigantic water slide to finish it off-now you got a course worth running. A course known as the DIRTY DASH.

All my sisters, Daniel Wade, Ryan Jones, Janica, Dom and about 4,000 others all embarked on the muddiest adventure of our lives Saturday morning. Due to a really good connection from Red Rock, this enjoyable adventure came half-off. Ya girl!!!

People were dressed from business suits and wigs down to simply a white, baby speedo to truly enjoy the mud-lovin, battle-crazin course. Although I have participated in many races, this is unlike any I have ventured before.

We started the course by climbing a hill covered in slick, wet mud. It wasn't twenty yards until Dan got tackled by a grown-man in a speedo. Haha it was quite the sight to see two nearly half-naked strangers tackling each other in the mud. No shame I guess.

Around each corner of the race, there would be HUGE mud piles conveniently placed near a random obstacle. It was way too easy not only to be covered by mud but to be completely and hopelessly immersed in it.

The only apparent features of my fellow friends were the whites of the eyes and the mud covered smiles. We were laughing and yelling chants of a champion the whole course.

There was even one part of the race in which we all trekked through a marsh that smelt like the hippo exhibit at the zoo. It was SO fun!

By the end of the race, we all finished by sliding/running down a 100 ft slide into a pile of mud. We just layed there soaking up the mud with our slippery, seal bodies.

After the race, we slowly began to turn into crusty, mummified bodies.

Let us just say, a warm shower never felt so good!!!

Just lovin' the adventures of college.

Before.

After.

Getting the clumped mud out of the hair was the worst part of the cleaning process.

I am so happy I was able to run with all my sisters. 

Love my little sistas.

The Reality of War!

Support the troops.

What does that even mean?

Until this year, my perspective of the military and troops originated from watching Pearl Harbor on the days I stayed home from school with the flu. Every sick day somehow resulted in this movie preference. However, this foreign image become real this past year thanks to a friend by the name of Nick Mckean.

For a brief moment in time I got a glimpse of the life of a military family.

What an amazing glimpse it was.

Of course easy is not one of the words I would choose to describe this glimpse.

 I do not envy Nick's mother who not only sent her husband but now her son to the opposite side of the world to fight and defend what we often take for granted.

I do not envy the pain and fear that come with sending a loved one closer to the arms of danger. How could you? It requires selflessness not only for the soldier leaving but for the loved ones sending.

War is real. It becomes even more real when it becomes personal.

I never expected to have this type of experience. More than anything I have learned the essence of true patriotism and selflessness.

Something inside me has changed.

I never want to take for granted the liberties and freedoms I am blessed with.

July 4th means much more to me than candy at the parades and a few fireworks.

 I look at the flag differently.

The liberties we enjoy are not free.

 I am grateful to know our country is supported and defended by individuals like Nick.

Thank you Nick for teaching me what it means to be an American.

Before the military banquet.

His unit is deployed to Afghanistan for one year.

They have been training in Texas and New Mexico the past few weeks.

They leave for Afghanistan in a few short days.

"O Beautiful for Heroes proved,

In liberating strife,

Who more than self their country loved,

And mercy more than life."

-America The Beautiful

Just Dance

I cannot believe I have been home for more than a month. Time seems to be escaping my grasp. Though I try to embrace each day with passion and love, in all honestly it has been quite difficult. I have struggled readjusting back into my home life. Coming from a dream life encompassing traveling, exotic foods, independence, and a social life 24 hours of every day back to the reality of working full-time, eating a healthy diet, exercising regularly, as well as attempting to jump back into the dating pool (daunting) has left me with the common feelings of inadequacy and exhaustion.

Silly I know.

After returning home from a trip of a life-time (LiTeRaLly) how could I feel anything less than bliss?

I have found many excuses along the way such as:

Jet Lag (A good excuse for everything).

The Equal and Opposite Effect (so purely described in Brother Bott's book "Preparation Precedes Power").

Drastic lifestyle change in diet, exercise, sleep pattern, daily routine, relationships...the list goes on.

Boys ( A category of their own).

However, as fitting and justified as these excuses may sound, none of them accurately cure or explain this deep Jerusalem post-depression I have been feeling.

It boils down to a simple term, happiness.

I have realized lately how much I base my happiness on other people. Silly as it may sound, it is true. It could be something as simple as receiving a phone call from a beloved friend to receiving  acceptance from a coworker. I am very much a people oriented person (not to mention people pleaser). This can be a good quality, though at other times (such as these past few weeks) it can be a trial.

Slowly, I have realized how destructive this dependency upon others can be. Instead of dwelling on the "what ifs" and the "should've, could'ves" in life, it is more important to fully and whole-heartedly appreciate the present moments. I want to wake up each morning and truly live each day to the best of my ability. I want to embrace the 5:45AM alarm reminding me to start my day by working out at the gym. I want to find the humor in my inability to kill the large Tarantula climbing all over my clothes I allowed to pile up over the past few days on my bedroom floor. I want to gain a better relationship with my growing sisters (whom every morning seem to grow a few inches taller and a few ages wiser). I want to gain more patience for my dog/horse who decides to make a chew toy out of my favorite pair of white Vans. I sincerely want to live in the moment.

So in desperate hope to gain as much experience from of this precious time I have with my family I resorted to making a few personal goals of my own.

Namely to forget myself, think of others, and find PASSION!

After all, it is in these moments in my life when I learn the most about myself. I learn what I like. Who I want to be. My current passions. My style (would I really layer denim on denim-you betcha). Most effective coping method. My favorite song. The list goes on...

The interesting part about life is that we are continually learning about ourselves. Through different relationships, trials (grieving periods), educational experiences, and choices we are constantly be shaped and transformed into something new, for better or worse we decide but we are always learning about ourselves.

Lately I have gained a few new passions of which I am particularly fond of. 

One. Books on tape.

Beautiful way not only to be enlightened but also to pass the time away doing production work in the warehouse.

Two. My Fireplace.

 It is the first place I go when I wake up and usually the last place I remember laying myself down before I end up crawling in bed.

Three. ROLLERBLADING.

Rach, Eliza. Koda and I went on Legacy trail yesterday. Not only is it the best gluteus workout EVER but it is a great time spent bonding.

Moral of the story:

"Those who danced were thought to be quite insane by those who could not hear the music." Angela Monet

Find passion and just DANCE!

Jerusalem if I forget you....today was our last day in the glorious old city.

Tender. Endearing. Surge. Tears. Joy.

Although this is the end of our journey here in Jerusalem, it is just the beginning to a bright new future awaiting us at home.

One full day of bag checking, airplane food, and a few personal screenings then we are home.

PASSION WEEK

I am now on the home stretch of one of the most defining and incredible experiences of my life. It honestly doesn’t feel like the end…I don’t think it will hit me until I get on the plane in a little over 48 hours. We are all trying to say goodbye to the things that have grown so fond to our hearts. It is hard. However, one thing I like to think and hold onto is the thought that this is not the end but rather it is the beginning. We have experienced things I could not have imagined 5 months ago. We were trained and taught by “the best of the best,” the experts, the cream of the crops in their fields. Now is the time to use what we have been taught. If I have learned anything here, it is the kind of person I want to become. The more I have learned about the Savior, the more I want to reshape my life, priorities, and values. I am grateful for this building stone I will use for the rest of my life.


These past few days the students and I traveled the course of the last week of Christ’s ministry here on this earth. Starting from Palm Sunday (his entrance and recognition as King of Israel) we ventured throughout the city as well as the Mount of Olives to end at the Garden Tomb-Christ’s resurrection. Oh how beautiful it is to be in the city and see the actual sites visited and changed by Christ 2000 years ago.


Yesterday was a wonderful moment for it was the time of Passover. All over the city last night, Jews were in their homes celebrating this symbolic festival. This does not only mean only unleavened bread and bitter herbs for seven more days, but it is a celebration and remembrance of the Exodus, the children of Israel being saved out of the land of Egypt. In celebration to commemorate Christ’s life, we reflected upon the Last Supper. As we looked out upon the Old City, there was a display of a table upon the auditorium floor (similar to the thought of the set up at the time of the Savior) with an arrangement of food used at the meal so many nights ago. We read John 13-17 to get the message Christ illustrated at this sacred and emotional supper. This was the last meal Christ ate with the apostles before he entered the trees of Gethsemane to perform the most matchless sacrifice and act of love known to mankind. It was a really special experience and I am so grateful for these countless opportunities to learn more about the teachings and life of Christ.







Lazarus' Tomb

Church in Bethphage. This is the beginning of Jesus Christ's journey to his triumphal entry into the city.
This is also where we began the march on Palm Sunday.

Jesus taught his disciples often in this cave near Dominus Flevit.

This hallway is full of prayers, it is near the cave (previous pic) depicting prayers in many different languages.

Dominus Flevit.
This is the site whereJesus sat and wept as he overlooked the Temple Mount.
The church is in the shape of a tear drop representing the tears he shed over the people and the Temple.  I try to picture Christ, looking at this sacred mount, knowing that it as well as the people will be destroyed and killed a few years later by the Romans.

This church possesses the most beautiful view of the Kidron Valley and the Temple Mount.

Dormission Abbey.
 This church commemorates Mary, the mother of Christ as well as many other influential women within the Bible.

Upper Room.

Upper Room.
We sang many hymns and learned more about the messages from the Last Supper.

Saint Peter in Gallicantu. This is the site where Peter denied Christ.

These are stones Christ must have walked upon after suffering in Gethsemane and being taken by the Romans. We had the most beautiful lesson on the importance of Christ's atoning sacrifice near these steps.

The "Upper Room Experience." This is what the meal prepared by Peter and John would most likely have looked like. We always see the Last Supper depicted at a table with the Apostles sitting around the table. In reality they would have been laying on their side (left), eating along side the Savior. This is best depicted in the scripture talking about John putting his head on the breast of Jesus. It is a beautiful image and I am grateful we were given a life size view of what that sacred night might have looked like.

This morning we walked over to the Garden of Gethsemane. We sang a few hymns and read a few scriptures focusing on the atonement. It was wonderful to sit and ponder in the place (or near the place) where the Savior suffered for my sins. The Olive trees are a beautiful, symbolic representation of the pain and suffering Jesus Christ suffered. The process of making olive oil requires the olives to be crushed and then pressed. The color of the olives when crusehd is a dark red color. It is after the olives have been pressed when that beautiful golden yellow oil is produced. This is the oil used for healing. Christ suffered and was stained in his own blood in order to provided us the ability to be healed and perfected. I cannot express my gratitude for this matchless sacrifice for me. I love him and I know the power of the atonement is real. We have the ability to change and become more like Christ if we utilize this gift the Savior so selflessly performed for us that night in Gethsemane.

Greg and I at the pool of Bethesda. This is the pool of one of the most beautiful miracles performed by the Savior. A man who has been sick for 38 years lay by a pool, unable to get into the healing waters of the pool. "Sir I have no man, when the water is troubled, to put me into the pool." Jesus responded, "Rise, take up thy bed and walk (John 5:1-8)." Christ is our advocate for the Father. He helps and heals those who cannot heal themselves. This is a beautiful message of peace and comfort for we all need the Savior's healing power in our lives. Whether it may be physical or spiritual, we must rely upon the Savior to truly make something of our lives.



Church of the Flagellation.
 This is the possible site where Jesus was condemned and beaten before he carried the cross to Calvary.



The Garden Tomb.

"I am the first and the last; I am he who liveth, I am he who was slain; I am your advocate with the Father. Of Him the Prophet (Joseph Smith) also declared: "And now, after the many testimonies which have been given of him, this is the testimony, last of all, which we give of him: THAT HE LIVES!" -The Living Christ (The Testimony of the Apostles)

CEMETERIES!!

I have anticipated posting this blog since the first week of my arrival here in the Holy Land. One quirky little quality of mine is my passion for cemeteries. My friends here have seen me rave uncontrollably as we have visited many different, unique cemeteries. I must devote an entire blog post to the many cemeteries we have visited over the span of this semester. 

Background.

 Before you all judge me, I must explain where this passion and love came from. It boils down to my mother. My mother is wonderful and has taught me the wonders of cemeteries. She used to take my sisters and I around the Salt Lake cemetery along with a map and her wisdom for wonderful adventures in the summer time. We would search for prophets, family members, and just random inspiring individuals. I loved it. I even took dates there to explore the wonders of the cemetery. There is just something peaceful and serene about cemeteries. Rach and I would often go running in Provo through the one cemetery south of campus. We have had many good, long conversations within the walls of that cemetery.  

 Much to my surprise there are cemeteries ALL over the Mount of Olives and East of the city.It is a beautiful sight. There is so much history coorelated with each of these cemeteries. Cemeteries are found on the east and northern sides of the city because it was thought at the time of the Temple Periods that cemeteries defiled the city and therefore must be placed away from civilization. They are on the north and eastern sides of the temple mount because the winds blow from the West and therefore they did not want the "evil" from the cemeteries to blow over the Temple Mount. Consequently, today there are thousands of graves covering the eastern wall of the city and the Mount of Olives.

Even on some of our random field trips we have passed through a few. Although this quirky passion of mine caught a few people off guard, they began to understand and even embrace this passion of mine.

Mount of Olives:

 Ein Karem...

 In GALILEE...

Yad Veshem...

Just the beginning...

The end is near and therefore I have already had to say goodbye to a few things that have grown fond to my heart this past semester.

 These young women.

Half of  these girls belong to the Tel Aviv branch but the other half are mine. I LOVE them all.

The rest of the darling kids in the district.

All of these kids have impacted me so much. They are such great examples of standing for truth and righteousness. Amidst a world of doubt and secularism, these kids (often being the only members in the entire district) are really what its all about. I am grateful to have learned so much from them this semester.

 Sister Bentley.

 I worked with her for both the humanitarian committee and in the young womens program. You could say we have bonded a bit. I love her and her husband. I am grateful for their love and willingness to serve.

 Hygiene Kits.

Over.

We made more than 7000 kits over the span of the semester. We were the fastest group the JC has experienced under the Bentley operation that is. It was so fun. Crank a little tunes and let the body move. This really reminded me of the days back in the warehouse (which isn't too far off in the distance) breaking boxes, tape guns, counting kits, trash runs-we did it all! Just a little warm up for the summer I suppose.

Studying.

This past week I have studied more than I have done anything else. I LOVED IT!!! Everything we have learned from our field trips, in class, from the scriptures, from guest speakers all came together. You know those moments when all the points seem to connect to illustrate a bigger picture...my week. My professor said these would be the most crucial 48 hours of the semester, how right he was. I have loved learning and applying these principles into my life. This is not the end. I know this is merely a stepping stone and a rock solid foundation to further build upon. I am excited to continue to grow upon this foundation for the rest of my life. I am so grateful for the wonderful professors who make it possible to learn such difficult and abstract concepts in one semester. I am surely not saying I know everything there is to know about this land or the Bible for that will never be the case, however, I am saying I have gained a sense of confidence. Confidence in my power to study the scriptures. Confidence in my ability to teach others. Confidence to receive and act upon the promptings of the Spirit. I am learning. If anything this experience has given me the ability to see what I hope to become.

 Four days left....



Jordan

JORDAN!!!

Jordan. It is amazing what a border crossing can do. These past four days have been full of long, sweaty bus rides, pita overdoses, hiking monumental structures, dance parties in random archeological sites, sicknesses spreading like wildfire, a few master suites, and getting whole lot of mauling from little girls. If this trip contained anything it would be surprises. Although I was completely unprepared for what we encountered, I loved every second of it.

The most amazing part of the trip for me was the people. I have never felt so much warmth and love from strangers in my entire life. If anyone is ever lacking self-confidence Jordan is the place to go. All of the people we encountered were so eager to talk to us. Although many of them knew little English, they tried so desperately hard to communicate and create conversation. Teenage girls were among most of the Jordanians we met. For some reason they were there by the hundreds at almost every site we visited. They were smiling, giggling, complimenting, and just being darling in every way possible. It was so fun! With the combination of an all girls home, yws in the JC, and the 60-20 ratio of girls to guys, I could pretty much say I was at home in Jordan. Girls were everywhere.

I can honestly say I am grateful and happy to be alive. Here. At this moment in time. Adventures continue to grow and build upon each other. I am sad to announce our visit here in the Holy Land is coming to an end. The Dead Sea tomorrow is our last field trip of the semester. Words cannot describe my emotions. I am sad, happy, blessed, and overall grateful to have experienced such a wonderful culture, people, academic program, teachers, callings, and personal growth.

Here is a random collection of the many adventures we encountered this past week. Brace yourself for a long post...



Madaba. We stopped at a place with the most beautiful mosaics.

 

This is a map of the land I have been experiencing these past four months.

The one name that popped into my head when I saw this pot was G.G. I remember as a child playing with this same dish set on G.G.'s floor while watching the Great Race. I have never seen a set like this anywhere. Who knew I would find one in Jordan.

Machaerus.
We hiked to a Herodian Fortress. This location is associated to the death of John the Baptist.

PETRA!!!
The Nabateans (North Arabians) were the founders of this fantastic city. It was ruled by Aratas IV (9 BC-40 AD). This city was destroyed in one night by an 8 level earthquake.
 This behind me is the "Treasury" or as many may know it as the location of  Indiana Jones...beautiful!

My darling roommate Keri and I. She was kind enough to share a headset with me as we toured this "rose red city."

On our hike to the Monastery.

I am convinced every field trip always turns into a hike..which I love. We were hiking all over these red rocks, exploring the remains of ancient history.

The Monastery.

An example of hidden beauty. A group of students and I hiked to the "high place." Along the way we saw many structures like this hidden within the depths of the red rocks.

Lauren and I almost to the high place.

Lauren and I hiked up with some crazy boys whom I absolutely love. This here is Josh, Cami, and AJ. They are all so fun and full of so much energy. One of their biggest hobbies is parkouring. While we were running around, hiking near death drops offs, these boys were attempting to prove of their parkour expertise. This includes twisting, bouncing off walls, pencil jumps-pretty much the more ridiculous one looks the better.

Exploring the Petra shops turned into a tutorial on how to fold kaffiyehs. 

King Abdullah Mosque.

It was absolutely beautiful. Plain and simple. Inside on the carpet there were rows and rows of red, rectangular boxes. This pattern is used to help Muslims kneel in a straight line to pray. I thought this was very interesting.

My girls. We were required to cover every speck of skin as well as our heads.
 I love becoming immersed in unfamiliar cultures. 



More girls.

Some of my most favorite girls on the program.

In front of the Jabbok River. This river is associated with Jacob who saw God face to face. I am so amazed by the many wonderful sites we get to experience. Our teachers usually read the associated scriptorial reference at the actual site the story takes place. AMAZING!

Jerash.
The place dates back to the Middle Bronze Age II.  It was absolutely gorgeous to see the many ancient ruins still in great condition.

Victoria (my engaged roommate, soon to be married in less than 8 weeks), Synthia, and I in front of the forum and cardo.

Ok one of the happiest memories of this whole Jordan trip was in an ancient stadium. This stadium was unlike any we have been to thus far, mainly because it was full of hundreds of teenage Jordanian girls on a field trip. WE entered the stadium and instantly the girls were singing, pounding drums, and clapping. My class of JC students and I stood in the middle of the stadium and began to sing "The Spirit of God." They were so intrigued by us. It was so funny. Then this man brings out his bagpipes and began to play "Praise to the Man." We were all just clapping and singing. Then the drums picked up again and I went over to dance with some darling Muslim girls. They were so excited to teach me their quite difficult dance steps. I loved it. I was in heaven. This moment definitely marks one of the happiest moments in my life. To follow our rockin dance party in an ancient stadium, completely surrounded by young Muslim girls screaming and cheering, it was time for pictures. I have never felt so popular in my entire life and I guarantee I won't ever feel that way again. They were just so kind to me and all the other students. Finally Brother Muhlestein had to come grab me to get me away from this darling crowd of giddy school girls. One word: bliss.

Love love LOVE these boys.
All the street vendors were selling these little whistles. Naturally all the boys bought one and insisted on playing them constantly....boys will be boys.

Once again girls rule the world in Jordan. Kissing is definitely part of this warm and welcoming culture. I have never been kissed so much in one day. I felt so much love from these wonderful individuals. If only I could have that much joy and warmth to strangers...the lessons we can learn from the Jordanians.  

Livin the dream.

On our free time we went to the city mall. It was HUGE! I am positive every store I have ever seen in my life and more could be found in this wonderful place. From a large Walmart to the trendiest European clothing lines- Jordan has got it all.

Spontaneity at its greatest. We randomly went to an Automobile Museum. I know I am not the biggest car fanatic but wow it was so fascinating. I learned all about V8 and V12s and how the engine works. The boys who I went with were in heaven and trying to touch every car possible. This bad boy behind me is one of the most expensive things I have ever seen.

Amman Citadel.



Roman Theatre. The largest one in the Middle East. This is my FAVORITE PICTURE. First off I adore this boy (he has become a fond friend). Second children. I love them. Third I am in heaven in this beautiful place we call Jordan.




More of the Roman Theatre.

Common sight.

Jordan River.