Thursday, July 14, 2011
Monday, October 18, 2010
my thoughts about Christ
Love and Sacrifice.
Jesus Christ, a real man that lived on this earth, suffered and died for me. Jesus Christ is more than just a man; He is my Savior. Not only did Jesus suffer in the garden of Gethsemane, but He suffered great amounts before the garden and even more after the garden. He suffered agonizing amounts of pain for me, knowing that I might not even use the Atonement. He did all of this for me. Jesus Christ raised His hand, during the grand council in heaven, and offered Himself to be my Savior. Christ did that knowing all that would come with that responsibility. He still made the choice, knowing that I would have agency. He did that knowing that I may never ever use the Atonement. I have a choice. I can either use the Atonement, the great gift given to me from my Savior, or I can let His sacrifice be in vein.
After Christ completed His tasks on earth, He has continued to help us. “He did not just think, well I have done more than my fair share. I think I am going to take a break now.” No! Christ continues to be here for me. He continues to love, serve, watch over, and protect me.
Christ loves me perfectly, unconditionally, more than anyone can ever love another person, right? Knowing that Christ loves me in this way, did that make the Atonement harder or easier for Him? Was it harder for Christ to suffer for me because He was then perfectly aquatinted with all the sins and trials that I would ever encounter in this life? Or, was it easier for the Savior to suffer for my sins because He loves me and knows that it was the only way for me to return to our Father?
I believe it made it easier. It is impossible for me to comprehend what pure love is like. Maybe I will understand that idea more when I am a mother or as the love in my marriage grows, but for now I am limited in my understanding. Sometimes I think I understand what it is like to have pure love. Then, my thoughts are halted when I think of my Savior. When I think of Christ and his limitless love, charity, and compassion I realize that I am so far from this beautiful, perfect love. Christ’s love for me must have made it easier for him to suffer for my sins, because He truly loves me. Is it possible that love means you want ultimate joy for that person, even if it is at the expense of your own comfort and pleasures?
10.18.10
Jesus Christ, a real man that lived on this earth, suffered and died for me. Jesus Christ is more than just a man; He is my Savior. Not only did Jesus suffer in the garden of Gethsemane, but He suffered great amounts before the garden and even more after the garden. He suffered agonizing amounts of pain for me, knowing that I might not even use the Atonement. He did all of this for me. Jesus Christ raised His hand, during the grand council in heaven, and offered Himself to be my Savior. Christ did that knowing all that would come with that responsibility. He still made the choice, knowing that I would have agency. He did that knowing that I may never ever use the Atonement. I have a choice. I can either use the Atonement, the great gift given to me from my Savior, or I can let His sacrifice be in vein.
After Christ completed His tasks on earth, He has continued to help us. “He did not just think, well I have done more than my fair share. I think I am going to take a break now.” No! Christ continues to be here for me. He continues to love, serve, watch over, and protect me.
Christ loves me perfectly, unconditionally, more than anyone can ever love another person, right? Knowing that Christ loves me in this way, did that make the Atonement harder or easier for Him? Was it harder for Christ to suffer for me because He was then perfectly aquatinted with all the sins and trials that I would ever encounter in this life? Or, was it easier for the Savior to suffer for my sins because He loves me and knows that it was the only way for me to return to our Father?
I believe it made it easier. It is impossible for me to comprehend what pure love is like. Maybe I will understand that idea more when I am a mother or as the love in my marriage grows, but for now I am limited in my understanding. Sometimes I think I understand what it is like to have pure love. Then, my thoughts are halted when I think of my Savior. When I think of Christ and his limitless love, charity, and compassion I realize that I am so far from this beautiful, perfect love. Christ’s love for me must have made it easier for him to suffer for my sins, because He truly loves me. Is it possible that love means you want ultimate joy for that person, even if it is at the expense of your own comfort and pleasures?
10.18.10
Friday, October 23, 2009
haunted houses
Every time the cold, windy holiday called Halloween rolls around people start talking about Haunted Houses. I hate haunted houses. Why do people enjoy being scared? Why do people enjoy feeling like they are stuck in a small, dark area they cannot escape from? I do not get it. People say, “oh, I just love the thrill!” Nope! Not me. I would rather just stay home, eat my trick or treat candy, and watch Casper, the friendly ghost. And to think that people pay money! They pay money to almost pee their pants in front of all their friends. Maybe I am just a overly sensitive, scared girl. Or maybe not. I hear all the other girls screaming; I see them jump and hold onto the closest guy to them. I must not be the only scared one. Everyone is scared, but everyone continues to return. They return back to the freaky monsters jumping out to grab you, back to the fake blood, back to the screaming, and back to paying money to get it! I simply do not understand their insanity.
arizona girl
I am an Arizona girl. I love the sunshine, heat, cloudless skies, and dry weather. Living in Rexburg, Idaho has definitely been an adventure for me. When temperatures reach to 30 degrees Fahrenheit, I am a frozen Popsicle. My husband actually changes my name once October hits. I am officially “Courtsicle” from October until June. If we were not working towards graduating from college, we would be living back in the beautiful state of Arizona, where winter does not exist. I find it difficult to comprehend why people think snow is vital to a winter. I have never had snowy winters, until recently, and winter was wonderful! I love being able to wear flip-flops in January. If I could run the world for a day it would be about 86 degrees, with a small breeze, and white cumulous clouds would be painted across the sky.
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Poem
Creativity’s Anaesthetic
by Courtney and Brenden Haueter (mostly Brenden)
Rain glistens on each blade
Emerald green flows further than my eyes will see
Gardenias float aloft on spring breezes
Daydreams, my reality shade
Hushed whispers tip-toe past
Keyboards sing a studious melody
The Windows symbol nonchalantly explores my screen
The sun, long shadows cast
No inspiration floods my mind
Innumerable tasks dam creativity
Deadlines pull with lead-like weight
No retreat, for which I pine
by Courtney and Brenden Haueter (mostly Brenden)
Rain glistens on each blade
Emerald green flows further than my eyes will see
Gardenias float aloft on spring breezes
Daydreams, my reality shade
Hushed whispers tip-toe past
Keyboards sing a studious melody
The Windows symbol nonchalantly explores my screen
The sun, long shadows cast
No inspiration floods my mind
Innumerable tasks dam creativity
Deadlines pull with lead-like weight
No retreat, for which I pine
short story entitled, "Community Service"
Community Service
Graffiti.
“You have been sentenced to two-hundred hours of community service for defacing public property,” said the judge. After hearing these words, Michael began to regret the large drawing he spray painted on his High School gym wall. He always seemed to be finding himself in these situations. Michael has always been somewhat of a delinquent. He is a tall, husky seventeen-year-old boy. He has the kind of body, perfect for playing Offensive Line on the High School football team. However, he used his body for much more careless, irresponsible things.
Soup Kitchen.
Reluctantly, he begins his community service, working at the Soup Kitchen. Michael plans to work through his community service hours as quickly as possible and get back to his “life.”
Sylvia.
On Michael’s first day working at the Soup Kitchen he sees Sylvia. Sylvia is a petite, young girl with light blue eyes and soft blonde hair. After awhile, Michael starts to notice that Sylvia comes to volunteer at the Soup Kitchen everyday.
Crackers.
On May 29th Sylvia drops a large box of crackers, they go flying everywhere. Michael kneels down to begin helping Sylvia pick up the crackers, she looks at him and says, “No thank you. I do not need your help.” Sylvia starts to be uncomfortable, and even judgemental everytime Michael is around.
Defense.
A few days later. Sylvia is pouring an old man some soup, when suddenly another man waiting in line says something vulgar and disrespectful to her. Michael walks up to the man, looks him in the eye and says, “You will not talk to a young lady that. I will not tolerate your disrespect. You can either escort yourself out of the building or I will escort you out of the building.”
Thank you.
“Thanks for earlier,” says Sylvia with a subtle smile. “You’re welcome.” Michael replies.
The pipe.
Water began spraying everywhere. The guest and employees had no clue what to do. “Michael and… uhh… you, Sylvia, I am putting the two of you in charge of stopping that water and fixing whatever is going on over there.” Michael and Sylvia look at each other. Sylvia shrugs her shoulders as Michael lets out a big sigh.
Working Together.
The two young adolescents begin to tackle their task at hand. At first, working together was tough for them. They most certainly did not enjoy each other’s company. After awhile, Michael finally said to Sylvia, “What’s your problem? Why don’t you like me? Have I ever done anything to you?” Sylvia responds, “Yes. You have. Gang bangers like you are the kind of people who have put Frank in jail!!” Frank? Who is Frank, Michael began to wonder.
Frank.
A little later he asked, “Who is Frank? Frank is my older brother, who is now in jail, because he was blamed guilty for something he did not do! Those boys framed him. They let him take the blame, when he did nothing wrong! He just happened to be in the wrong place at the worst time!”
Blue.
He had nothing to say. Michael worked in silence for awhile. Staring at the blue tiled ground. Michael hates the color blue.
That’s dumb.
“I am sorry. I don’t know what to tell you, except to say I am sorry that that happened to Frank.” Michael finally responded. For awhile, Sylvia had nothing to say.
Then she responded with a question, “What did you do to have to work here anyway?” “Graffiti” he said.
“Oh, I guess that’s not too bad. But… Why would you do anything you know is illegal?”
“The thrill I guess, I am not sure.”
“That is dumb.” Sylvia boldly declared.
Trip to the Store.
They found the source of the leaking water, but realized they needed a new piece from the hardware store before they could finish the job. They drove to Home Depot.
“I think you should stop doing illegal things and just get your act together, Michael.” Sylvia begins to say, “You just seem like the kind of guy that could do really great things, but… instead has been choosing to do lots of silly stupid things.”
“I wouldn’t call them all stupid. Have you ever tried to graffiti? Ha. No, Of course not. You wouldn’t understand.” He responds.
“Well, I am just saying. You seem like a smart, determined guy and I hate to see you waste those strengths. One day you will wind up in jail you know. Maybe you won’t ever fall in love with your lifestyle or even worse…”
“Okay okay. I get your point. Can you stop please?” he says.
“Im sorry. I didn’t mean to ramble,” she replies.
“Can we just talk, not about me and my life?” Michael questions.
“Ya sure.”
Ride Home.
In Home Depot and the entire ride home their conversation went well. They got along and enjoyed conversing about all sorts of topics.
Finishing the task.
The part was in. They fixed the leak. They mopped up the water. Right before they went back to serving the soup to their guests. Michael said to Sylvia, “Thank you. Thank you for not being afraid to be bold with me. Also, for your compliments. You seem like a nice girl. I am sorry about Frank. I can promise you that once I am out of here, I will do my best to steer clear of trouble.” Slvia just gave him a smile, nodded her head and went back to ladling out the soup.
Graffiti.
“You have been sentenced to two-hundred hours of community service for defacing public property,” said the judge. After hearing these words, Michael began to regret the large drawing he spray painted on his High School gym wall. He always seemed to be finding himself in these situations. Michael has always been somewhat of a delinquent. He is a tall, husky seventeen-year-old boy. He has the kind of body, perfect for playing Offensive Line on the High School football team. However, he used his body for much more careless, irresponsible things.
Soup Kitchen.
Reluctantly, he begins his community service, working at the Soup Kitchen. Michael plans to work through his community service hours as quickly as possible and get back to his “life.”
Sylvia.
On Michael’s first day working at the Soup Kitchen he sees Sylvia. Sylvia is a petite, young girl with light blue eyes and soft blonde hair. After awhile, Michael starts to notice that Sylvia comes to volunteer at the Soup Kitchen everyday.
Crackers.
On May 29th Sylvia drops a large box of crackers, they go flying everywhere. Michael kneels down to begin helping Sylvia pick up the crackers, she looks at him and says, “No thank you. I do not need your help.” Sylvia starts to be uncomfortable, and even judgemental everytime Michael is around.
Defense.
A few days later. Sylvia is pouring an old man some soup, when suddenly another man waiting in line says something vulgar and disrespectful to her. Michael walks up to the man, looks him in the eye and says, “You will not talk to a young lady that. I will not tolerate your disrespect. You can either escort yourself out of the building or I will escort you out of the building.”
Thank you.
“Thanks for earlier,” says Sylvia with a subtle smile. “You’re welcome.” Michael replies.
The pipe.
Water began spraying everywhere. The guest and employees had no clue what to do. “Michael and… uhh… you, Sylvia, I am putting the two of you in charge of stopping that water and fixing whatever is going on over there.” Michael and Sylvia look at each other. Sylvia shrugs her shoulders as Michael lets out a big sigh.
Working Together.
The two young adolescents begin to tackle their task at hand. At first, working together was tough for them. They most certainly did not enjoy each other’s company. After awhile, Michael finally said to Sylvia, “What’s your problem? Why don’t you like me? Have I ever done anything to you?” Sylvia responds, “Yes. You have. Gang bangers like you are the kind of people who have put Frank in jail!!” Frank? Who is Frank, Michael began to wonder.
Frank.
A little later he asked, “Who is Frank? Frank is my older brother, who is now in jail, because he was blamed guilty for something he did not do! Those boys framed him. They let him take the blame, when he did nothing wrong! He just happened to be in the wrong place at the worst time!”
Blue.
He had nothing to say. Michael worked in silence for awhile. Staring at the blue tiled ground. Michael hates the color blue.
That’s dumb.
“I am sorry. I don’t know what to tell you, except to say I am sorry that that happened to Frank.” Michael finally responded. For awhile, Sylvia had nothing to say.
Then she responded with a question, “What did you do to have to work here anyway?” “Graffiti” he said.
“Oh, I guess that’s not too bad. But… Why would you do anything you know is illegal?”
“The thrill I guess, I am not sure.”
“That is dumb.” Sylvia boldly declared.
Trip to the Store.
They found the source of the leaking water, but realized they needed a new piece from the hardware store before they could finish the job. They drove to Home Depot.
“I think you should stop doing illegal things and just get your act together, Michael.” Sylvia begins to say, “You just seem like the kind of guy that could do really great things, but… instead has been choosing to do lots of silly stupid things.”
“I wouldn’t call them all stupid. Have you ever tried to graffiti? Ha. No, Of course not. You wouldn’t understand.” He responds.
“Well, I am just saying. You seem like a smart, determined guy and I hate to see you waste those strengths. One day you will wind up in jail you know. Maybe you won’t ever fall in love with your lifestyle or even worse…”
“Okay okay. I get your point. Can you stop please?” he says.
“Im sorry. I didn’t mean to ramble,” she replies.
“Can we just talk, not about me and my life?” Michael questions.
“Ya sure.”
Ride Home.
In Home Depot and the entire ride home their conversation went well. They got along and enjoyed conversing about all sorts of topics.
Finishing the task.
The part was in. They fixed the leak. They mopped up the water. Right before they went back to serving the soup to their guests. Michael said to Sylvia, “Thank you. Thank you for not being afraid to be bold with me. Also, for your compliments. You seem like a nice girl. I am sorry about Frank. I can promise you that once I am out of here, I will do my best to steer clear of trouble.” Slvia just gave him a smile, nodded her head and went back to ladling out the soup.
Friday, May 29, 2009
First Paragraph.
Today is my birthday. My husband gave me a turtle today! So adorable. He is so tiny. He has a bright green shell. And... I have no idea what I should name him. Ideas? Anyone.. I think pet names are so funny. I don't like all the usual pet names like... Sparky, Spot, Ect. Also... I don't want any names that are the names of actual humans like... Jessica, Becca, Steve.. That's too weird. Why do pets even need names? Why can't I just call him turtle.. Oh heavens... I can't pick a name.
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