Ode to Joy

Hip Hip Hooray, Huzzah, Huzzay!
I have enough cash to pay the piper today--
With the help of a loan, and a grant, and a favor
Full Jerusalem payment comes today and not later.
So hooray for hard work, tithing, and patience,
Persistence and providence letting me travel the distance.

Oh, I almost can't believe it. All my needs and wishes have been provided for. The incredible sum total payment for the Jerusalem semester abroad-- over eight thousand dollars-- I've been able to collect five days before the deadline. It's surreal. Just goes to show I guess that with tithing and fasting even the insurmountable mountains will melt into molehills. A doctor friend of my dad's is going to sign the medical form that proves I'm healthy enough to exercise (Israeli law is weird--they won't let you touch exercise equipment unless you're healthy--and I thought exercise equipment was designed so you could... oh never mind.) I know these successes are not of my own doing, but are evidences of the mercy and kindness of my dear Father in Heaven. I'll be eternally grateful; especially because I know the lessons and experiences I will have in the Holy Land will forever change my life and the way I can and will serve in the future. I'm at least smart enough that this is a once-in-a-lifetime trip that will immerse my soul in infusions of goodness and truth; more than I could get from any other source.

... and I can't believe it, but it gets even better! I checked my registration online (and everyone in college will just love this,) I was registered for 26 credits. For those of you who don't know, BYU has a maximum of 18 credits per semester allowed, so registration for 26 credits is quite impossible. It was pretty funny. It was because the J Center added all of the classes I'll be taking in Jerusalem (that they have to add, you can't register for them yourself,) and the BYU Provo classes I had originally signed up for hadn't been dropped. I quickly dropped everything I needed to-- and I noticed that the classes I will be taking at the Jerusalem center had my teachers listed--and I have the BEST teachers. I really do. And I already know them. Man, I've got it good. I met both of my teachers before I even left elementary school. ...and man, am I in trouble.

Victor Ludlow (teaching Old and New testament,) and David Seely (Ancient Near Eastern Studies) are considered the most difficult instructors in their field. Taking their classes in Provo would be hard enough. This is going to be killer. Ah well--this IS my major, and I do love the subject more than anything else in the world, and I'm going to be on such a high after learning their stuff that I just can't wait. Plus, their wives are coming too! Not to be rude or anything, but having Sister Ludlow and Sister Seely around is much more of a plus than it is to have their husbands around. They are SO smart, SO sweet, and I can't wait to be good friends with them.

YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES YES!!!!!! Oh, yes. YES.

"Today has been my lucky day, I'm sure you all agree. If you could speak I know you'd say "how lucky can she be?" My heart is all aflutter! My poor head is in the sky--I know just how a butterfly feels to fly. Today has been my lucky day--my, oh my!"

I want to set off fireworks. And cannons. Maybe host a few air shows in celebration. And balloons. Definitely balloons. Perhaps a kazoo chorus.... some carnival games... ; )

I can't wait to get my JCenter backpack

I found this in a newsletter called the Firearm that must be the BYU version of the Inquirer. Their slogan was "don't believe a word of it." I say was because this was written in 2003.

Anyway, it's funny....because it's more false than Paris Hilton's eyelashes.

The Daily Universe recently reported that the
study abroad program at the BYU Jerusalem Center has been cancelled for the time being because of tensions in the Middle East and the current worldwide political atmosphere.

However, the University will continue to accept applications for the Jerusalem Center program.Those applicants ‘accepted’ by the program will not be able to actually study in Jerusalem, but they will receive a BYU Jerusalem backpack.

“At first I was really bummed that I’d probably never get to go to Jerusalem to study like I had always dreamed of doing,” said Kay Mortensen, a senior marine biology student from Fresno, California. “But now that I know I can at least get a Jerusalem center backpack, well, there’s some satisfaction in that. At least now I can show everyone that I had what it takes to go—if people were still going.”

“ Yeah, dude, this is totally cool,” said Tyler Taylor, a senior comparative literature student from Tampa, Florida. “Now I can still roll up on the honey’s and be all, ‘Hey, check-it— Jerusalem Center…Hezekiah’s Tunnel, Kibutzes—
let’s talk about them, baby. You wanna date me now, don't you?’”

In addition to the back packs, the Jerusalem center directors are considering making arrangements for the accepted students to order special, exclusive olivewood sculptures from the Holy Land as well as having their images placed digitally in photos with the Dome of the Rock. Jerusalem center directors say the list of students accepted for Spring 2002 will be announced by the end of the month and the first orientation/backpack-sizing meeting will be held after Thanksgiving.

Now, wasn't that funny? Smile and nod. ... very good.

Ticketty, Tocketty

I collect clocks. I'm not sure if I started collecting clocks before or after I read The Timepiece, by Richard Paul Evans--a sensational book I highly recommend to everyone, by the way. But whether I siphoned the idea from elsewhere or I started on my own, I collect clocks now. Hmm. Let me talk about that book for a minute. Richard Paul Evans writes novels in which real people are the main characters. In the chapter headings he includes actual quotes from the journals of the main characters. David Parkin, (main character/person in The Timepiece) is a collector of clocks. Mr. Parkin is a millionaire, and as such, has rather expensive clocks...including one from the era of Louis XIV, enormous grandfather clocks, ivory mantle-pieces, etc. But the type of clocks he owned is neither here nor there. What attracted me about David Parkin's clocks was the way they are discussed.

David fills his office wall (and his entire house) with odd assortments of clocks. The ticks and tocks were so numerous that instead of hearing separate noises they formed a rhythm; a unity of sounds endlessly reverberating until, on the hour, at which time (as David puts it,) there is "quite a racket." There are so many types of clocks. So much variety: old and new, mechanical, chemical, wind-up, automatic, digital, analog, cuckoo, grandfather, sun-dial, pocket watch, wrist watch, atomic clocks, biological clocks--well, sorta. the book also comments on how a clock is a strange invention--it doesn't do anything, like a cotton gin that leaves something useful. It cannot measure time like cups measure liquid or sieves measure grain. Without the meaning we apply to its face it is only motion. And yet, no other invention has changed the world so entirely.

We cannot measure time. Not really. We try, but how could we? How do you measure a non-substance that you can't see, hear, or taste? We can't see it, no, but we can feel it. Neither solid, liquid, nor gas, is time a noun or verb? Time is described as a thing, but it is only an action. It is slips through our fingers, it rushes by, it wears us down. I am willing to say time is less of a thing and more of an action, but it's not an action we can do--we cannot play time, or sing time, or dance time-- although we can "do" time and "keep" time. All we can do with time is spend it, yet, we cannot spend it--for spending requires that you have a reserve to spend, and we mortals do not have time to spare.

Alma 40:1--"...all is as one day with God, and time only is measured unto men." I cannot reason precisely what time is. But I believe a clock is motion only, and that no matter how frequently I check to ask "what it is o'clock," the answer is only pertinent for the task I complete or allot the time for. Time is a tool appointed unto us that we may learn from it. What are we to learn with time? Many things. I am sure, for example, that it matters very little how much time we have, waste, or use. It matters only what we do with our time.

That being said, I come to the point of the exercise. As Charles Dickens wrote, "my time grows short," by which I mean that my time is wearing out, growing thin, I am swiftly running out of time. The countdown is commencing. I have only 40 days left. (More than enough time to make a brick hard enough to stick together, for those of you who know what I mean...)

My flight arrangements are creeping up on me. They're looming just around the riverbend... ( I feel a song coming on...and now that I think of it tons of good songs are about time--not the least of which is Simon & Garfunkel's... I'm getting ahead of myself. And I'm still in parentheses. Oops. Here, I can change that.) --Now, for the concluding remarks, I will share some of my favorite quotes about time.

"Of all, clockmakers and morticians should bear the keenest sense of priority - their lives daily spent in observance of the unflagging procession of time and the end thereof."
-David Parkin's diary. January 3, 1901. (From The Timepiece--you should read it!)

"Time: is tapping on my forehead, hanging from my mirror, rattling the teacups, and I wonder-- how long can I delay?" --Simon & Garfunkel, "Overs"

"Time time time, see what's become of me, as I look around for my possibilities. I was so hard to please. But look around, the leaves are brown, and the sky is a hazy shade of winter." Simon & Garfunkel, "Hazy Shade..."

"Hey Mac--you wanna buy a sundial?" The black market peasant, Disney's "Hercules"

P.S. For those of you who don't know, I love Simon and Garfunkel. Really really love them. I own every album... Mmm. Bleeker Street..... :-]


P.P.S. I collect clocks and postcards. ...and I'm hoping to get some good ones when I go you-know-where in 40 days!

MANIA

I know this has nothing to do with me going to Jerusalem, but I can't contain myself.

HARRY POTTER FLIES AGAIN TONIGHT!

My "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" apron is ready, I took a nap, and I am raring to go to all the Provo and Orem parties tonight! YES! I am madly in love with Harry James Potter, and no one can stop me from reading until I drop. YAY! OOOOOOOH, YAH! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

....I'll see you all on Monday after I surface and this is all over. (over? *whimper* It can't be.... over.... oh noooooooo.)

But maybe even Jerusalem awaits Harry Potter--check this out:

Row in Israel: Harry Potter vs. the Sabbath

Israel's ultra-Orthodox minister of trade and industry has threatened to sue any shop opening on the Jewish Sabbath to sell Book 7.

“We must put a limit on the desire to imitate other countries,” he told said. “It is inconceivable that numerous employees will be brought in to allow these events to take place and damage the spirit of Shabbat. I plan to file charges and fine anyone who violates the Hours of Work and Rest Law.”

In spite of this, most Israeli bookstores are willing to face the ire of the religious community and are opening up at 2:01am (12:01am BST) to sell the book.

"Wait a minute, where are you going?"

I want to go... I want to stay... I want to go.... I want to stay.... I want.... Oh, why don't I want what I should?

I want to make a fist and stamp my feet and yell and scream--sob, wail, gnash my teeth and rent my clothes! I want to curl into a ball and pout. I want winter nights and starry skies. I want to drive up the canyon until I am visible to none but the wilderness and the creator. I want to hide. I want to run away. I want what I have always wanted--- a firm embrace that will last until I stop feeling this way.

This quote from Hook comes to mind: "I want, I want, I want, me, me, me, mine, mine, mine, now, Now, NOW!" Isn't that what I sound like? A whiny twit? Or worse, Veruca Salt, who says things like "you're always making things difficult," or "I want one, don't you dare stop me..." The worst of it is that I know that all these thoughts can get me is a haunting mental mirror that will blind me to the people I am sent to aid, blind me to the truths I am sent to learn, a mirror that will reflect only self pity, selfishness, and misery.

WHY am I having a hard time with this? I shouldn't. It's a no brainer. I know I'm supposed to go, and I'm going. I've made up my mind, so why don't I just enjoy it? Is it perhaps because I've discovered as much as I could over the last year and there are few surprises left to hope for, or because every day I discover more reasons not to go? Is this a self-defeatest attitude, or am I becoming getting lack-luster with life? Is it a lack of faith? Why do I bother to question this? I'm going to Jerusalem! I should be excited out of my skull the way I was three weeks ago. I should be itching to get onto that plane!

I know why I'm going... I think. No, I don't. All I know is that it's important. I know I will get a lot out of it, and I know that the benefits outweigh the risks and the sacrifice. I believe it is important, and I'm going. In any case,

Without hesitation or reservation I know where I will be on September fourth: enroute to the Holy Land. Nothing will prevent my obedience. But what I want most of all is not to obey, but to want to obey.

Looking at my track record, I know that I don't do things until I want to; whether I want to do something for sheer enjoyment or because a deadline is approaching and I held off until I feared the alternative. I only do things if I want to. Sad, but true. What surprised me is that I have the mental ability to make the things I should do into the things I find enticing. I can make myself want to do this... especially because for a months before now Jerusalem was all I could think about, all I could study. I can change my desires.

All I have to do is make "my will His," and I will--for it is my desire not to obey, but to want to obey. Besides, after all, "it is better to obey than sacrifice." (1 Sam 15:22) Pray that I can let my heart be changed, and that I will realize my obstinance hinders the growth I am ought to have.

(P.S. "Ought to have" sounds a little cryptic, but I can't decide whether it's improper grammar or not. Somebody make a comment and give me their opinion... Blasted summer heat is scorching my brains.)

P.P.S. I've never liked daisies, but they're the only flower you see people saying "he loves me, he loves me not" with--- so I used one, even though I've never liked them. : P

S.O.S : Spend or Save?

Time hurries on. I've had near panic attacks about whether or not i really am supposed to go to Jerusalem fall semester. I intended to go Winter semester, but the first time I voiced this decision the words caught in my throat. I felt the spirit communicate to me its increasingly familiar clarion call to go the other way. I'm getting used to it. Really. Oh, but it's just so much harder this time.

Winter semester is far more logical--and would provide more opportunities than Fall semester. If I go Winter I can earn enough to more than pay for the center, as well as resume my job when I got back. If I go Fall I'll come home with debt, no money to pay for Winter semester, and no way of earning any more cash. I don't have enough money to pay for Fall, even with gov. loans. AND I'VE BEEN WORKING MULTIPLE JOBS FOR A YEAR SO I COULD SAVE FOR THIS. I'm going to be a few thousand short. AND I'm missing my favorite holiday by leaving Fall. AND I was invited to Folk Dance Workshop, but I can't go, because I won't be here for Christmas Around the World. AND I can't audition for BYU choirs, OR Savior of the World. I'm losing tons of advantages, and gaining (foreseeably...) nothing.

I feel like I'm jumping off a cliff because somebody told me to. But not just any somebody. THE somebody. And I'm taking His word for it, so I suppose I should stop griping. Especially since I know I REALLY AM SUPPOSED TO GO FALL SEMESTER, and that there are good reasons for it, and that if I knew the reasons it would prove ineffective. So--- here I go, no questions asked... faith in every footstep... trying my hardest not to be afraid or hesitant. [Of course, if the reason I'm supposed to go is because the center will close after this, because I'm going to discover my destiny, save a life, meet my future spouse or something similar--- I'll be the first to swallow my pride and admit that fall semester was the best option after all.]

So in the meantime, pray that I somehow can earn enough money. Pray that I doubt not the word of God. Pray that I will not be afraid. Pray that I can save enough to cover the cost of this trip and still be able to buy the things I need to take with me. Pray that the city remains safe enough for American students, and most importantly---
pray that I can find some cheap jeans that fit!

America, My Home!

Independence day has come and gone. Fireworks, Parade, BBQ, Family--the typical Mildenstein hullabaloo... minus two siblings and their families : (. I bought A More Perfect Union, a movie that's one of my favorite parts of the 4th festivities. It was great fitting seven people and a dog into our small TV room--I really enjoyed it. Even when the room started to reach boiling point *curse swamp coolers!*

But this fourth of July reminded me that I am leaving these fair shores and mountain-valleys. I am leaving! I am leaving. The words of the song "Anthem," from Chess.

"And you wonder will I leave her -- but how?
How can I leave her?
Where would I start?...
I cross over borders but I'm still there now...
My land's only borders lie around my heart."

I shudder to think that as a Patriot, I could make my home a land where a wave of our starry flag could get you shot. But I will never truly leave my dearest, fair, America. I will walk among the roads of prophets, to the birthplace of the Christ, to the Holy City--and I shall be as Moses; a stranger in a strange land. Yet I wonder if, upon returning home, I shall feel a stranger here. But I do know, that when our returning flight lands and I see the words "USA," and see bright stars and the brazen red-on white stripes "gallantly streaming," my eyes shall fill with tears--and I'll feel to kiss the ground as the pilgrims did.

Although--- I think I'll wait until I hit the ground outside my house. Airport carpets cannot be sanitary.