tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64620124947243529362023-11-16T07:41:03.342-07:00just jillJillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.comBlogger156125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-88733457333860349912017-07-10T01:06:00.001-06:002017-07-10T01:16:17.044-06:00Accepting the AtonementIn this week's New Testament lesson, we had to read a chapter in the Teachings of the Presidents of the Church: Brigham Young. It was about accepting the atonement in our lives. I feel like the atonement is something we, myself included, take for granted. The attitude of the world among many Christians is "just be a good person, we will all be saved." And while yes, all of us will overcome death, our experiences on the other side of this earthly life can be vastly different from each other. We all sin. We all make mistakes that make us unclean in some way. The beauty of the atonement is that we can be clean again when we let its healing power into our hearts. The key word being "let." I remember learning a very powerful thing through personal study and personal revelation. I was reading in Alma 5 and when I came to verses 22 and 23. They read, "<span style="font-family: inherit;"><b>22</b> <span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #333333;">And now I ask of you, my brethren, how will any of you feel, if ye shall stand before the bar of God, having your garments stained with</span><span style="color: #333333;"> </span><span style="color: #333333;">blood</span><span style="color: #333333;"> </span><span style="color: #333333;">and all manner of</span><span style="color: #333333;"> </span><span style="color: #333333;">filthiness? Behold, what will these things testify against you? </span></span><span class="verse-number verse" style="background-position: 0px 0px; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-weight: 700; margin: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">23 </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">Behold will they not</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">testify</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">that ye are murderers, yea, and also that ye are</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">guilty</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333;">of all manner of wickedness?" </span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit;">My immediate question upon reading this was "how do our garments become stained with blood, and why would we be called murderers if we never killed anyone?" And then it hit me. The blood on our garments is Christ's. We have his blood on us because he died FOR us. To dumb that down, basically it means we are responsible for his death. And we are, aren't we? If it wasn't for the sins we would commit and our natural human-ness, he wouldn't have had to suffer in order for us to have a way back. Here's the cool thing about his blood though. In Alma 5:21, it talks about how Christ's blood can CLEANSE our garments and make them white. So how can blood, which stains by the way, both stain and cleanse? Because it depends on the intention. Christ's blood NOW, because he is a resurrected being, is made of spirit. That spirit cleanses. For instance, if we accept the sacrifice made for us, and take part in the atonement, then his blood cleanses us and makes our garments white. But if we don't live our lives in a way that shows him we accept his sacrifice, his mortal blood, the kind that stains, is on our hands. And THAT is what makes us murderers in the day of judgement that it talks about in verse 23. If we don't accept the Atonement, we are counted as murderers of Christ. I understand that this is "Gospel according to Jill," but it just makes sense to me like that. I just wanted to share.</span>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-88592993078753474302017-06-25T16:53:00.001-06:002017-06-25T16:53:25.516-06:00Being PreparedEarlier this week, I was sitting in class waiting for it to begin. Some of the students were talking about the Second Coming and what to expect. One of the students, who was a returned missionary, said "Don't worry, the Lord will remove the righteous before anything bad happens." I was astonished. Surely the scriptures do say that the Lord will call up his righteous, but that is after the wars and rumors of wars, calamities, and other things that must happen before the Savior comes back. Furthermore, the students talked about how it would be a quick process. I gently said "you need to really study the scriptures and what the General Authorities have taught about what is to come. It will get bad for everyone. Some of the righteous will probably die. But we are taught that we need not have fear because no matter what we have to go through, if we are righteous, we belong to the Lord and will be saved, meaning we will have eternal life." I was further surprised to learn that some of the students thought nothing bad would happen in America because it is the promised land. The reality is, we don't know what exactly will happen or how long it will take. But I personally suspect, through my studies, that it could take longer than just some stuff that happens over the course of a year. It could take 20 for all we know. We have to be prepared so that when those hard times come, and they will and already are, we will know what to do. In the lesson in my New Testament class this week, I read an article in the November 2005 Ensign about being prepared. As I read that, this experience in my class came back to my mind. We cannot assume that we will be untouched by calamity and trial. In fact, going through those things is what will help refine us and make us ready to meet the Lord. Whenever I think about the last days, I think of the parable of the ten virgins. I think that one symbol that having enough oil represents is our ability to hear and follow the Lord. The day could come that all of our media and means of communication are cut off, and we might not be able to get word from the leaders of the Church. In those days, we had better already know how to hear the Lord and do what he directs. It will be too late to think we can just "learn on the job" in the moment. If we do not now what the voice of the Lord sounds like, it will be chaotic for us as it will be for everyone else. We need to know how to hear him. We need to already know how to act on the promptings and directions the Lord gives. He will need people that have already learned how to go forward with faith, despite fear or anxiety, and fully trust Him, even when things are scary or bleak. It will be too late in that day to think we can just figure it out then. We have to develop those skills now. Don't wait.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-79910662651368878132017-06-12T00:04:00.000-06:002017-06-12T00:04:01.128-06:00My view on MarriageIt's interesting that this week both my Anthropology class and my religion class talked about marriage. The difference was that in Anthropology we talked about marriage in different cultures and the different types of arrangements that there can be. There was no spiritual tie-in. Obviously for Religion class we talk about it from a spiritual perspective. Marriage is an interesting subject to me because I am still single. I am in my mid-30s, which in the Mormon culture is fairly unusual and definitely not ideal (depending on who you ask). I have maybe a different view on marriage. I have friends my age or older (and even younger) who are bitter that they are not married. I have never felt that way. I'm not looking for a pat on the back, but I'm just trying to explain where I'm coming from. I trust in the Lord's timing in my life. He leads me down paths and I follow, and I know that when the time is right it will happen. Or maybe it won't. Maybe my trial will be to not have a companion in this life. Either way, I trust it. I've had an interesting view on marriage. In our Hollywood shows and movies we are lead to believe that it is all sun and roses because you are in love. I know enough to know that it isn't exactly like that. My sister once told me that marriage is kind of like an ebb and flow. You have periods of time when you fall in love all over again with your spouse and then other times that you feel like you just have a roommate. It takes work. I've lived with two different families for a period of time. Because I was in their home, I got to see some of that ebb and flow. I feel like I understand some things about marriage because of that, things that otherwise I might not have known. I know that marriage is ordained of God, and that no one who is righteous will be kept from it's blessings. That's the most important thing to know, in my opinion, and in my phase of life.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-28040276969127033042017-05-29T00:41:00.002-06:002017-05-29T00:41:58.435-06:00Mount of TransfigurationThis week I read the different accounts of what happened on the Mount of Transfiguration. I noticed something I hadn't noticed before. In the account in Matthew, it mentions that Elias and Moses were there, and then in the footnotes it says that Elias was Elijah. However, in the account in Mark it mentions Elias and Moses and then the Joseph Smith Translation adds "or in other words, John the Baptist and Moses." In the account in Luke, it simply mentions Elias and Moses and refers to them several times as "the two men." I had always heard that it was Elijah there, but finding the differences perplexed me. I reached out to a good friend of mine that I trust spiritually and asked him his opinion. Instead of giving it to me he asked a series of questions, in order to help me come to my own conclusion. His first question was: "If we use the restoration as our manifesting template and those critical to restoring keys to latter-day man, who would YOU say must/should have been there?" I answered that if I had to choose one, based on the restoration of keys that happened in the Kirtland temple, I would have to choose Elijah, but that I believed that both could have been there. His next response (this was all happening via text) was: "As far as it is translated correctly." So then I was thinking, well the JST says John the Baptist. He told me to turn to D&C 110. Then he asked, "How many came to Joseph in restoring keys?" I was thinking simply of those mentioned in 110 so I said, "Moses, Elias, and Elijah." In response, he told me that actually we have to consider all who came, so there was John the Baptist to restore the Aaronic Priesthood, Elias, Moses, Elijah, and Peter, James, and John. Then he said that if they were all the major players then, that they would have all been at the Mount too. I could see it then. I remember General Authorities talking about more people being at the Mount that aren't in the scriptural accounts. Then my friend said this, which has given me cause for thought: "The clearest view of such things (particularly when scriptural accounts seem to conflict) is the documented pattern of the Restoration. That is really the grand key to overlay to clarify past dealings." And he's right. If something is being RESTORED, then that means it was in the past as well. Interesting, no?Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-83851673493743167892017-05-14T23:41:00.001-06:002017-05-14T23:41:44.892-06:00AlwaysLately I've been feeling a little bit of a spiritual crisis coming on. Not a crisis of faith...my faith is intact. Let me explain. I have felt for a little while now like I am numb to the spirit a little bit, which has caused some alarm within my soul. I've wondered if it's because of my medication. Because I have bipolar disorder, I have to be medicated through school or I'll never keep with it. Right now, my meds are in a really good place. Mentally I feel really good, which is a sigh of relief because sometimes it's hard to find the right combination. My doctor and I have worked for a year and a half to get here. The medication keeps me from feeling highs and lows, which is great for a bipolar person. But there is a side effect that I don't like...I can't feel the intensity of the spirit. I can feel peace, but not that fire that I'm used to feeling. I've talked to other LDS people with bipolar and apparently this is common, but I don't like it. It's freaking me out, making me wonder what I've done wrong. This week, in my New Testament class, we read an article from an address to BYU by President Henry B. Eyring. It was called "Always." (<a href="https://www.lds.org/ensign/1999/10/always?lang=eng" target="_blank">https://www.lds.org/ensign/1999/10/always?lang=eng</a>). In the address, he talked about the Lord's command to pray always. He also talked about how, in the sacrament prayers, we are to always remember the Lord. The question then becomes, how do we do that? President Eyring talked about how our past efforts are not enough. We cannot stand still. We have to determine to study daily and pray often throughout the day and give everything we have to be close to the Lord. I realized in reading this that I haven't been doing that. I think, because I'm so busy working full time and doing school full time, that I have been counting on my past efforts and closeness to the Lord to carry me through, and haven't been doing what it takes to be there. So maybe some of it is my medication, but maybe I can break through the "even-ness" and feel that fire again. It gives me so much hope that I can feel closer to the Lord and hear his voice daily again. In the parable of the sower found in Matthew 13, Christ talks about the seed being cast on different types of ground. I want desperately to be the seed that lands on good ground and brings forth fruit. So take heart from my own experience. We can all come unto the Lord and do more to be close to him. I know that's what I'll be doing.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-8300932321643483952014-08-27T08:04:00.002-06:002014-08-27T08:04:29.754-06:00Oh the Humanity!You know what sucks? Chronic pain, that's what. Any person that suffers with chronic pain is already starting to nod their head...I can feel it. I went to the waterpark yesterday and I feel like I was run over 10 times by a very large truck. You'd think the sunburn would be my ailment but no...it's all my connective tissues. Stupid fibro. I guess it could be worse...in fact I know it could be. So I'll count my lucky stars (or blessings rather) that I don't suffer as bad as some people have to. Normally I'd be jonesin' for a pain pill to block my aching woes but instead I've found some natural things that work wonders: a warm bath with epsom salts, anti-inflammatory foods, yoga (really..yoga is fantastic to stretch out all those tight and aching muscles), massage, trigger point therapy and something called the morphine bomb. Morphine bomb? Yes. No, it doesn't have actual morphine, but instead has three oils that really help with pain and overall inflamation.<br />
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Here's the thing: you have to use it consistently. Unlike normal painkillers (don't get me wrong..those can be fun. But we gotta think about our livers people), you don't really feel the affects immediately. But over just a few short days of taking it consistently, you will notice results. Your overall pain will be decreased (or gone), you will be able to tell a difference in your inflammation levels, and you will notice that you just feel pretty darn good. Even your mood will be elevated. I love it. Seriously, I do. I ran out of Frankincense and pitched a whiny fit while I waited for my next bottle to come in the mail. And the pain came back because I couldn't take it. Ugh. Get it together Brewer! Note to self: DON'T RUN OUT EVER AGAIN UNTIL YOU ARE HEALED OF CHRONIC PAIN! Yeesh. </div>
<br />Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-44586344640846638102014-08-26T20:21:00.001-06:002014-08-26T20:26:19.757-06:00Crispy Fried<br />
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No...I'm not talking about chicken (mmmm....fried chicken). We're talking about my skin. Ouch. Today we went to the waterpark in Canandaigua. I really tried to stay in the shade but obviously that plan didn't pan out. I suppose it wouldn't have been so bad except that I literally have spent zero time in the sun this summer. Zero. Not good for skin health. Speaking of health, I continued my streak with "waterpark food"..you know, a fried "veggie" burger and french fries washed down with a mountain dew. Food-wise I would call this day a fail, but at least I had fun...right? Fun counts for something?Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-41812502780131161782013-10-31T08:01:00.000-06:002013-10-31T08:01:11.231-06:00All Hallows' EveWell, it's that time again. Everybody's all costumes and jack-o-lanterns and I'm just over here munching on a snickers bar for breakfast. There's something about Halloween that gives guiltless permission to consume a not-so-healthy amount of chocolate though, so who can hate on that?<br />
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Speaking of Halloween, it recalls one particular story to mind. I was 15, and had just been asked by my mother (who had a 2 month old baby) to take my 10 year old brother and his friend out to trick-or-treat. No problem. We had a good neighborhood for it, after all. So off we went...them all costumed up and me full of teenage attitude. At some point during the night, we found ourselves walking along a darker stretch of road. Just up ahead I heard a dragging sound...a metal type of sound. A shadow was moving up ahead, and as he passed under a street light my heart flew up somewhere around my eyeballs. The mask, in my memory at least (which cannot always be trusted), was some weird cross between ALF and the faces from those creatures in "The Village." And that dragging sound? He was dragging a huge-as-crap metal chain behind him.<br />
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I'd like to take a brief time-out here to explain a few Jilly-isms to any who are not aware. First of all, I am highly sensitive and afraid of things that can be completely ridiculous. I can't do haunted houses. I can't watch scary movies. I don't like windows that aren't covered up at night. I can't even watch action movies that have more than just a little blood in them. I search every possible place a person could be hiding when I get home (I mean...I'd rather face them head-on then have a horror movie moment when they sneak up behind me on the couch). I don't pull up window-to-window with another car at a stop-light just in case they have the sudden urge to shoot at me. There are more. Many more. I know, you don't have to say it. <br />
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Back to guy with chain. Jacob or Griffin may have said something about him to me, but I was so zeroed in on that dude that I couldn't tell you what it was. He must have heard us behind him, because suddenly he turned, looked at us, and ran into a yard and out of sight. ALL of my Jilly-senses were going off, pinging around my head and body like electricity gone wild. As we got closer, he suddenly jumped out and started chasing us. We (and by we I really mean me) turned right around on our heels and booked it in the other direction. Confession: This was admittedly a bad-sister moment for me. I'll be honest in saying I had no idea if those two kids were even still behind me. I was just running like the wind...you know...self-preservation. It only took a few seconds to remember that I should be worried about my brother. I looked over my shoulder and luckily they were keeping up with me pretty well. One of them lost whatever hat they were wearing, and maybe some sunglasses. We weren't turning back. I was relieved to find out that they were just as scared as I was (I'd gotten a lot of flack from my siblings and friends over my scaredy-pants issues over the years). Of course they were only 10 so I'm not sure that tips the scale in my favor at all. Needless to say, we were done trick-or-treating that night. We went back to my parent's house, excitedly telling the rest of my family what had just happened. And you know what? We still tell that story. <br />
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Happy Halloween everybody! Ya'll be safe now, you hear? Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-3784958109181652832012-02-19T07:32:00.002-07:002012-02-19T07:32:43.211-07:00New Beginnings (From jack and jilly)<div style="background-color: #dcf5f8; color: #555555; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Today marks a new beginning. And I’m highly excited…like can’t even sleep more than 5 hours excited. Today I embark on a journey of health and healing. How will I do this? Well, I am starting with a 40 day juice fast. Some of you may think I’m crazy, and I don’t care. If you feel the need to tell me what I’m doing is wrong, please make sure your comments are heavily steeped and backed by some serious research, because I have done mine for a long time and know that this is my next step. Or better yet, feel free to keep your comments to yourself. It won’t sway me and I don’t need the negativity in my life. So..now that the disclaimer is out of the way…I know this will be difficult..especially in the beginning. This is a cleanse of the body/mind/spirit. And I couldn’t be more ready.</div><div style="background-color: #dcf5f8; color: #555555; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">This morning as I was laying in my bed pondering getting up or continuing to pretend that I was actually sleeping, I picked up my phone to glance at the calendar…and then realized the date. And then I laughed. Out loud. February 19th. What is the significance? On this day four years ago I suffered a traumatic experience that left me with PTSD and set off a series of events and health troubles that led me to where I am today…desperate for healing and change. I laughed because I didn’t plan on starting my fast on this date in particular…in fact it never even crossed my mind. What a better day to begin anew?! Maybe February 19th will no longer be a marker for how many years I’ve been in panic-attack-and-depression hell and will now be a marker for when my life began again. So I guess the date couldn’t be more perfect! Ready, Set, Go!!!!</div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-58934336363084589452012-02-18T15:18:00.000-07:002012-02-18T15:18:34.288-07:00The Invitation<div style="text-align: center;"><b><u><span style="font-size: large;">The Invitation</span></u></b></div><div style="text-align: center;">By Oriah Mountain Dreamer</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;">It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for,</div><div style="text-align: center;">and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love,</div><div style="text-align: center;">for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed from fear of further pain. I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, to remember the limitations of being human.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself; if you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul; if you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want to know if you can see beauty, even when it's not pretty, every day, and if you can source your own life from its presence.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the moon, "YES!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up, after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone, and do what needs to be done to feed the children.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you, from the inside, when all else falls away.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.</div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-6029260578000260742012-02-13T10:45:00.000-07:002012-02-13T10:45:13.588-07:00Who do you Be?One of the most interesting conversations I have with myself while taking personal inventory is about who I “be”. I believe that who I be is always a choice and never the result of my circumstances. Please don’t take this to mean I’m a master of my emotions. I’m actually quite horrible at remembering to choose my way of being. Just picture an unpredictable roller coaster and put my name on it. Despite that, there is still a sense of empowerment in knowing that with practice, we can choose who we be in any moment or situation. For instance, maybe I’ll choose to be loving today, or inspirational, or silly. Maybe I’ll decide that my goal for the whole day is to grin like an idiot at everyone I see and watch their reactions. Don’t you just want to run out and test that? Unfortunately, we can also choose to be in a negative pattern of being. And that, my friends, is where I have been for a very long time. I’ll admit it…I felt sick and broken and I wanted people to recognize I felt sick and broken. I wanted people to get my pain so I didn’t feel alone in it, thinking that if people felt sorry for me just a bit I would feel better. You know what? I didn’t feel better. All I felt was more negativity with a side of guilt for being a complainer and an energy vampire. I want to be someone who breathes life into people I come in contact with, not the sucker of their life-force energy. I realized that I was stuck in victim mode. Oh I talked about getting out. I even had brilliant bursts of relief where I could see the light at the end of the tunnel. But traveling upwards is difficult when there is no action involved. I was all talk and no action. Yeesh.<br />
I remember several (as in like 6) years ago a time where I was much more conscious about who I was being. I created a “Be” jar with my friend/roommate. We typed ways of being on individual slips of paper and put them all in a decorated glass jar. Every morning we would each draw a slip and that would be our assignment for the day. It was fun and very freeing. It took work to maintain it throughout the day…some days were successful and others weren’t. But it was practice and inspired awareness. The lesson here is this: We have choice. It is the way God designed it to be, for us to have agency. We have the freedom to choose good things and positive energy or victim-mode and darkness. And we can choose no matter our circumstances. We may not be able to control what happens to us, but we can control how we react and our thought processes. And it is ours. People can always take away our stuff, but they can’t take away who we are. Not ever. Maybe I’ll go make a new “be” jar….Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-57615464662063064632012-02-12T22:30:00.000-07:002012-02-12T22:30:24.508-07:00Journey to JoyfulCheck out the beginning of my journey to a more joyful life! Just hop over to <a href="http://jackandjilly.org/">jackandjilly.org</a>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-70486799208591880502012-01-20T09:58:00.000-07:002012-01-20T09:58:12.976-07:00Dwelling in the AmazingThings with me are, well, different. In a good way. In fact, so far this month has felt almost like a vacation. Let me explain.<br />
As we are all aware, the past several years have been really rough on me. I look back and all I see is a giant black hole. Or maybe it's more like one of those hypnotizing spiral thingies that aren't really moving but look like they are. Don't get me wrong, I've had some great experiences mixed in with the darkness, but either way...its been really hard. Like take my soul to the edge of my existence hard. After dealing with panic attacks and anxiety on the regular for several years, I finally got desperate enough to try medication. That was back in July. Happy Birthday to me. Since then, an amazing series of events has occurred that has, in a way, set me free. No doubt the Lord is looking out for me. I landed a new job that SIGNIFICANTLY lowered my stress, allows me to have a normal life schedule, a social life, etc. And after realizing that my medication was no longer serving me and probably making my symptoms worse, I decided I was finally in a good position to come off of it. I tapered off over the course of about a month, and then made the leap to being medication free. The first night was rough. My insomnia returned, along with the night tremors and sleep starts I began experiencing back in Utah. So I would take things like benedryl or tylenol pm to help me go to sleep. You know what I use now? NOTHING. It's pretty fantastic.<br />
For years I have been studying nutrition and how it works in our bodies to promote healing and optimal health. Last year I studied quite a bit about raw foods and the power eating our vegetables uncooked can give us. I felt inspired to move towards this type of lifestyle, but was so caught up in the stress of not sleeping and my job at the time to do anything about it. I just wasn't ready. While I've been studying nutrition and believe wholeheartedly that food can be used as medicine...that our bodies are made to heal themselves if given the proper fuel and other tools like exercise and sleep...I haven't been practicing it. I allowed myself to dwell in the darkness that is "victim", allowing my circumstances to control me. I allowed horrible foods to enter my mouth, even though I knew that my body is sensitive to certain things. All this unhealthiness not only affected my physical and mental self, it greatly affected, or infected rather, my spiritual self and my relationship with my Heavenly Father and Savior. Because I know our souls are the combination of our body and spirit, I realized that what was really wrong with me was that I suffered from an infection of the soul. Body, mind and spirit. <br />
I normally don't do resolutions at the new year. This year, however, I declared a year of healing. And not my usual declaration that sounded great and inspired but then prompted no action. But a real declaration. That to get healthy, I had to "be" healthy. Thus, I started using food as medicine. I know my body well through trial and error, so I knew that what I needed was 5 to 6 meals a day consisting of lean protein and plenty of veggies. I try to eat them raw (the veggies, not the protein...don't worry) as much as possible. The only fruit I really eat is apples and blueberries (usually I freeze them and eat them as a treat if I crave anything sweet). Right now, my body is rejecting most grains and starches...even starchy vegetables. So if I have them at all its maybe two or three times a week.<br />
I've been doing this for 3 weeks now and so far my moods have stabilized, my anxiety has become almost non-existent, and my panic attacks are far and few between. While sleep isn't quite where I'd like it to be yet, I can generally fall asleep on my own and am waking up fewer times throughout the night. I also started exercising to see how my body would respond...and it did well! So I've been gradually increasing my intensity, being careful not to over-do it but still pushing and testing my limits. <br />
All of this to say, I've started to feel like Jill again. And it's wonderful...amazing even. I choose to dwell in that.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-81059310933663198082012-01-15T21:27:00.000-07:002012-01-15T21:27:24.913-07:00GloryI wrote this approximately 8 years ago after coming through a really rough and dark time. And It applies now.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><u><b>Glory</b></u></div><div style="text-align: center;"><u><b><br />
</b></u></div><div style="text-align: center;">Sickened by such lonesome thoughts</div><div style="text-align: center;">I stand still on my ground</div><div style="text-align: center;">The havoc that this weight has wrought </div><div style="text-align: center;">Awakens every sound</div><div style="text-align: center;">The crying in the blackest night</div><div style="text-align: center;">The shout of joy and peace</div><div style="text-align: center;">Soothing songs when done what's right</div><div style="text-align: center;">When faith's strength has increased</div><div style="text-align: center;">The echo of my hollow voice</div><div style="text-align: center;">Against blank walls and stares</div><div style="text-align: center;">Reflects again my own true choice</div><div style="text-align: center;">Though some no longer care</div><div style="text-align: center;">And I with my new found glory here</div><div style="text-align: center;">Stand proudly and content</div><div style="text-align: center;">Pushed aside both pain and fear</div><div style="text-align: center;">My soul no longer rent</div><div style="text-align: center;"><u><br />
</u></div><div style="text-align: center;"><u><br />
</u></div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-81566936309550620082012-01-04T19:15:00.000-07:002012-01-04T19:15:09.865-07:00Writer's Block<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Ernest Hemingway once said “There is no rule on how to write. Sometimes it comes easily and perfectly; sometimes it's like drilling rock and then blasting it out with charges.”</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I've taken a curious interest to the lives of successful writers lately. Mainly because I think I would like to be one. Actually it is quite more like a <i>need</i> to be one, an inner stirring that is compelling me to put pen to paper (okay, let's face it. I don't write much with pen and paper anymore. Who does?). Still, despite the fact that I am not yet en route to producing something actually printable, I would still like to know what kind of life I'd be getting myself into. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So far, my findings have been thus: it's hard. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">In my mind, writing has been some romantic notion of combining my feelings with the written word. That is how it has always worked for me. It is effortless, like it's seeping out of my heart through my fingers and onto the page. Hemingway also said “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit at a typewriter and bleed” and up until now I have whole-heartedly agreed. This theory of mine explains why my writing is sporadic in time. It just doesn't happen unless there is some emotion welling up within me that needs escape. However, I am learning that to be true to myself in my desire to write I have to also be willing to trudge through the muck. Sticky, gooey, hard to get through muck. Like these past few months of hemming and hawing over <i>What do I write? Maybe this, maybe that </i>and in turn feeling stuck because I'm not writing something “productive” which then makes me not want to write at all. Stephen King said it best, “ Sometimes you have to go on when you don't feel like it, and sometimes you're doing good work when it feels like all you're managing is to shovel s**t from a sitting position.” Thanks, Steve. I appreciate you making me feel better about the whole thing, even if your books aren't exactly jill-friendly.</div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-3672012659769788312011-12-27T09:00:00.000-07:002011-12-27T09:00:31.347-07:00On the EdgeVisit my other blog jackandjilly.org to read my new post <a href="http://jackandjilly.org/2011/12/27/on-the-edge/">On the Edge</a>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-44676857383152910112011-12-24T11:41:00.000-07:002011-12-24T11:41:34.479-07:00Christmas Eve: A Tribute to NastalgiaChristmas Eve is and has always been a special day for me. I suppose everyone feels the same in some way. As a child it held this sort of magical feel to it...like a denseness in the air that you could almost breathe in. I've been a little disappointed in my adult years at how ordinary of a day Christmas Eve has become. My sister once told me that once I had children of my own it would become magical again. But no matter how dull it may feel for whatever reason, the memories of Christmases past keep it alive for me...atleast until those fantom children arrive at some point in my life (I do hope). Every year on Christmas Eve, my parents would load us kids up into the car and we would head to my grandparent's house. There would be food, music and general merriment. My mom or my aunt Judy would usually lead some sort of activity-slash-story for the young kids. And then there was the passing out of the presents. The announcement of this ritual always brought shouts of excitement from the kids. The little ones would jump up and run to the tree, and as my grandmother would direct them in which present went to whom, they delivered them like excited little elves buzzing with joy. And you couldn't open them up any old time you wished. Oh no. You had to go in procession of age. We started with the oldest children (also known as "The Four Girls", to which elitest group I belonged), and worked our way down. Then came the adults. With everyone looking on, you would open your gifts, announce who it was from, and then hold it up for everyone to see. You would either then look at the gift giver and give an acknowledgement of thanks, or go give a hug in gratitude. After all the gifts had been opened and songs had been sung, families began to disperse to their respective households for the night. We always tended to be the first to arrive and the last to leave (I attribute that to my mother, who is always setting up and cleaning up for every event I think I've ever been to in my whole life. Just goes to show how service oriented she is). On the ride home, my dad would always take the back roads and try to find streets with light-adorned houses for us to look at. I can remember watching out of the window, wondering if I might catch a glimps of the silhouette of Santa and his reindeer against the moonlit sky. When we arrived home, it was pretty quick to bed because by then it was usually far past our bedtime. My sister and I would go into our room that we shared and compare our gifts and talk about what Santa might bring in the morning. I can still feel the warm feeling of the evening as I drifted off to sleep.<br />
We no longer hold our Smith family get-together on Christmas Eve, mainly because we all grew up. Grandchildren started to marry and have children of their own. We do still have our gathering every year, however, usually sometime on the weekend leading up to Christmas. Last night, as we all hung out together and ate food and sang songs, I had a flood of nostalgia wash over me. It was never about the presents. For me, it was always about the love that we all shared for each other as we celebrated the birth of the One who made it possible for us to be together forever. I will be forever grateful for the precious gift that is Jesus Christ, and that I have a family that still enjoys being together. Merry Christmas!Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-61219306098821853322011-12-20T09:53:00.000-07:002011-12-20T09:53:31.704-07:00Musical MusingsI love music. Like speaks to my heart and calms my soul kind of love. Interesting thing though...some days, i literally can't stand for anything except piano music. With maybe some strings thrown in. If I even hear a voice it grates my nerves. Now what sense does that make? I have a theory. Piano has always made me feel grounded. Like everything is right with the world. I suppose that's why I stuck with the lessons all those years. And why to this day, when my soul feels in turmoil, putting my hands on those keys instantly melts my sorrow away. My only wish is that I played more, and that I was better than I am. Maybe I should work on that.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-4921473469039200592011-12-17T13:04:00.000-07:002011-12-17T13:04:45.455-07:00Mrs. WalkerHere I sit today, trying to focus on my tasks at hand, engaged in a tug-of-war between my daydreaming mind and what needs to be done. I tend to get frustrated a little on days like this...its sunny outside, somewhat warm (and lets face it, after the rain and ugliness of the past two days, who <i>isn't</i> distracted by that?) and I'm stuck at a desk with a to-do list. And then in walks Mrs. Walker. She's one of my oldest residents and by far the most colorful character in the place. I love her. She calls the office every couple of days just to say hi to me or ask if I have any candy canes for her. Today she walked in bearing gifts in the form of chocolate and a bribe to try and get me to come help her clean 10 pounds of chitlins she just bought. True story. A few weeks ago when I informed her we were doing our annual apartment inspections she called to let me know she just put 3 holes in the wall so we would have something to be worried about in her unit. Of course she was joking, but after we left she called me to let me know we had forgotten to fold her laundry while we were there. Mrs. Walker brightens my day. Sometimes she makes a bad day turn around when she comes in just to chat for a few minutes and make me feel better. I'm so grateful for wonderful,different, and even eccentric people. They make the world a much more interesting place to be.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-71223337285369358572011-12-08T17:50:00.000-07:002011-12-08T17:50:12.782-07:00Just JillThere are days where I sit in whatever little space I happen to be in, listening to musical favorites such as Ray LaMontagne or Citizen Cope or my recent love Brett Dennen. I begin to feel so at peace with myself that I start to suspect I'm an imposter. Like I have this stuck-in-overdrive need to define myself. And for what? So I can fit into some kind of category neatly filed away in the "walks of life" folder? I personally feel that my need to do this is out of a deep concern that I'm normal, boring, unoriginal. Which is ironic only because I spend the other half of my energy worrying that in fact I may just be abnormal afterall. Sometimes its exhausting living in a jilly world. I remember this one time my sister filled out some stupid facebook or email survey about me (that we all used to do in the beginning...don't act like you didn't), and upon being asked to describe me using terms such as "sporty, classy, etc" she instead said: she's just jill. I know, I remember the oddest things. But that's besides the point. Maybe I don't need a label or a category to belong in...i mean who <em>really</em> wants that anyway? I guess its that part of ourselves that still exists in 14-year old land where all we want in life is to fit somewhere. Maybe I'm okay with just being jill. I like jill, she's pretty cool...even with all of the unpredictability. Does that make me a bad person?Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-19281501976550022732011-12-03T20:26:00.000-07:002011-12-03T20:26:48.959-07:00So, I guess i'm human....It can be a humbling (and even embarrassing) experience when we suddenly realize we have limits we didn't used to have. I've seen this type of thing happen with people such as my grandparents or even my own immediate family, but I guess I forgot that it can happen to me too. All I can tell you is I don't like it. At all. For the past little while I've been trying to define my own new limits as my ability to handle high stress has gone way down (hard to admit...i used to thrive amidst stress, especially at work). I say that like I have control of those limits, but I don't really. Not yet anyway. It's more like bumping into a brick wall head first and <i>then</i> realizing it exists. Mainly I spend most of my energy focused on the confines of my emotional and mental state. However this week I went crashing into a physical boundary that, quite frankly, upset me. My brother and I moved all of our big furniture that warranted a U-haul. Luckily we don't have much. Let me give you a little bit of back story....<br />
I've always prided myself a little on my physical strength. Thanks to my dad, I inherited an abnormal amount of muscle for a girl and if you gripped my bicep you would think I lifted weights on the regular even when I don't. I could lift very heavy things without breaking a sweat. For the past year, I've been experiencing a great deal of physical pain...mostly joint and nerve pain. I've become progressively weaker and I'm not thrilled. Last night when we were trying to move stuff...I knew it was gonna be really hard for me. We lifted my brother's dresser and I thought my whole arm was gonna come off. We set it down and he went to try to call his buddies and see if someone could come help him. By the time he came back into the room, I was already in cry mode. We picked the dresser up and then he said, "Are you crying?" yes, yes i was. Why? because I was frustrated at how weak I had become. Frustrated at the pain that hit my joints immediately when I tried to lift something heavy. And I was embarrassed because I couldn't lift a stupid dresser with my brother. He of course told me I was being silly and shouldn't beat myself up over it. Limits...yeah...not a fan. I guess i'm human after all....Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-23223034788347883562011-11-26T08:07:00.000-07:002011-11-26T08:07:35.264-07:00A Thankful HeartLeave it to me to do my "thanksgiving" post two days late. That's just how i roll. Besides, I'd hate to be predictable.<br />
There are always little snapshots in time where I think about where I might be in my life a year from now. This of course leads me to look backwards and see where I was a year ago. Only one thing remains consistent...I am never where I thought i'd be. almost never anyway. Last year, I was just thankful to be alive...because most of the time I felt dead. Last year at this time, I had far since slid into a black hole that was spiraling downward. After wandering around down there in the dark for awhile I came across a little bit of luck and a lotta bit of miracle and stumbled upon an escalator back up. Fine by me, didn't want to take the stairs anyway. Which leads me to my first "thankful"...escalators. Literally and figuratively. Literal escalators are those fancy things that make me move up stairs faster-than-your-average jilbeez. My figurative escalator, however, exists in the form of God. Oh how grateful I am for His all-knowing wisdom in directing my life, and His unending love for me.<br />
My second thankful is my family. i'm so blessed to have a functional disfunctional family. I feel lucky that I am close friends with all of my siblings and my parents. I hear horror stories from people who are alienated from their families and i can't even imagine what my life would be like if that were me. And I don't want to. I don't want to sound like I have favorites in my fam, because I don't, but I need to give a special shout out to my mother. She is truly one of the most selfless people i've ever known. She serves others before even thinking about herself. And she always has the time to pick up the phone and talk to me when I need a sounding board.<br />
I'm so so thankful to have a new job. Stepping away from managing a crazy pizza store has already done wonders for me physically and mentally. It kind of fell in my lap at just the right time...proof that I have a Heavenly Father (with the help of a great friend) that is watching out for me. I have normal workday hours, 40 hours a week, much lower stress....its good people. very good.<br />
Don't let me forget my friends now. Because I have some pretty fantastic ones. Many I don't get to see very much, but I still love them something fierce. And I'm grateful to have ones who actually seem to want to hang out with me. I'd hate to truly be a loner.<br />
That leads me to my last-but-not-least thankful. My tests and trials. While they are not fun, they keep me on my toes. They keep me humble. They remind me to always look to my Savior Jesus Christ. I'm continually learning patience in the Lord's timing. I wouldn't be me without them.<br />
I hope everyone had a fantastic Thanksgiving with their families!Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-38361270788685783902011-11-25T07:21:00.000-07:002011-11-25T07:21:09.406-07:00So What?I am often amused at the extraordinary-ness and complexity of the human mind It's ability to do things against your will even in the awareness of what is going on is amazing. Let me give you a "for instance". The other night I was delivering a few pizzas...and by few i mean <i>nobody</i> wanted any that night. I was scheduled out at a specific time, but the owner came by to visit and we all got caught up in chit-chatting. We hadn't had a single order in almost an hour and as I went to get my stuff together so I could go home the phone started to ring. Apparently everyone had suddenly awakened at 10pm and wanted pizza. I ended up having to stay 2 hours past when I was scheduled out. Ordinarily this would have been no big deal...it was thanksgiving eve and I had no plans...and I needed the money considering our slowness earlier. Lately, however, quick changes in plans..no matter how small..throw me into a tizzy. I went full-blown freak out inside of myself. I got irritable, slightly explosive and my moods started swinging like a third grader at recess. I realized the ridiculousity of this, almost like i was sitting in my own passenger seat watching the flipping out, but yet i couldn't make it stop. I called my mom on my way back from a delivery just to process the frustration of it all. After about 45 minutes, the swings passed and I was exhausted from containing it inside rather than let it out on innocent bystanders. And all I could really do was laugh. Hey, it was either that or cry. I laughed because it makes no sense why I get like that. I laughed because even while i know this, I can't see it coming or stop it once it arrives. I laughed because people that see these episodes in me must think I'm a complete loon. Maybe I am...so what.Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-69938655651078617472011-11-03T22:17:00.000-06:002011-11-03T22:17:50.210-06:00It's Complicated....Some days, i really want to write. But then i stop myself because i figure nobody really wants to read about what i want to write about. And then i hem and haw over whether to write anyways because i feel compelled or go with the whole "i'm in hiding" act. Do you see this? This is kind of characteristic of my life lately. I go back and forth about whether i like my job or hate it. I go back and forth between feeling "normal" (whatever that is) and feeling like i'm stuck in some alternate reality pinball game where my life is the machine and i'm the ball. And most notably, as of late, I go back and forth between accepting my reality and thinking this is all a big mistake. Either way, my life is...to put it mildly...complicated. <div><br />
</div><div>I guess really what there is to do is figure out what there is to do. And by that I mean "what is my next step."</div><div><br />
</div><div>There is only one word that comes to mind..."Acceptance." Problem is, I don't know how. Let's take last week for example. I felt fantastic. Normal. No pain, no real irritability. No swift mood shifts. No bad panic attacks. It was great. I miss feeling like that. Lucky me...i got to feel like that almost <i>all</i> week. I started having ideas for the future. I started making plans for going back to school or steps to starting my own business. I started having this conversation with myself: "I'm not really bipolar. My doctor was mistaken. See? This is all blowing over. Maybe it's just something i've been eating or because i haven't been taking the best care of myself. Maybe pretty soon I will feel steady enough to come off my medication." etc, etc. Remember how sometimes when you rave about something great, either you or your friend over there will say "sssssshhhhhhhh....don't jinx it!" yeah. jinxed it. this girl over here.</div><div><br />
</div><div>You know what I don't get? How quickly it can all change. Like one day I feel fine...i'm in a good mood. The next day, i feel like i'm in the battle of my lifetime. It literally takes every ounce of my life force energy (as i like to call it) to hold it somewhat together, to not let my mind go through <i>that</i> door. After all, I don't want to flip in front of that person there, or that person over there. They might think i'm crazy if they knew what was going on inside of me. What would they really think then? What do my friends think? What does my mom or my dad or my sister or my brothers think? Really people. It's exhausting in every sense of the word. And why do i care so much about what other people think? Are they going through it? no. well, some of them do because of their interaction with me, but they don't <i>reaaaaaallly</i> get it. Maybe I don't want to write about it because I'm worried people think I should hide it. Or that I should just snap out of it. Or that I just need to think about other things. But you know, how can I help other people if I stay quiet? And how can I help myself? I can't help by being quiet, and so I won't. First step....acceptance. It may take awhile. It's complicated.</div>Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6462012494724352936.post-61735195465692336012011-10-24T23:55:00.000-06:002011-10-24T23:55:43.987-06:00Just Focus and Go DeepTonight while I was driving around in my car I was listening to a lecture given by Brad Feld at Stanford University on entrepreneurship. Brad graduated from MIT and has started, sold, and invested in many successful business ventures. Despite the fact that i cringe at the way he pronounces "entrepreneur" (which i will forgive him for. Poor guy is too smart for his own good.), he is pretty fun to listen to. After the lecture, he opened up the mic for a Q and A session. One student asked Brad what MIT taught him about entrepreneurship. His response was: "I don't think MIT helped me as an entrepreneur. What MIT did was teach me how to think. My experience was very simple. MIT was a constant assault on my self-esteem. From day one all the way through. continuous. I was top of my class in high school and got a 20 on my first physics class at MIT. What do you do when you are 17 years old, fresh into college and get a 20 on your first test? You go to your room, shut the door and cry for an hour. But I look back on it and it taught me how to go deep on a problem, and stay on a problem even if I was lost, and keep doing it and digging at it until I got somewhere. You just focus and go deep."<br />
Here's why i loved what he said: There comes a time in our lives, several times even, where we look at our lives and realize we have no idea what the crap is going on. Or atleast that's my experience. Half the time I feel like my life is characterized by a run-a-way horse and I'm the goofy pig-tailed girl flopping around behind it hanging on for dear life. Through it all, I've been blessed to learn that a loving Heavenly Father is at the reigns and I just have to "focus and go deep" and keep trying to fight my way back up to the saddle. Right now I feel lost about a lot of things...my health, my next step...but I know I must be patient and put first things first. So I'm going to focus....focus on my health and doing what i can to feel better so I can move foward. And so I start my cleanse tomorrow...ready or not (and i'm not, but what the hey). I'm gonna have to dig deep in the beginning. Its no easy feat to cut out all processed things, my beloved caffeine, dairy, bread, sugar, etc. But I have to keep my eye on the prize and know it will be worth it to not feel like i'm dying every day if this helps. So thank you Brad for your words of encouragement, even if they were meant for business and not my personal issues. "Focus and Go Deep" just might make it up on my wall with some of my other favorites such as being "Creatively Disciplined" and practicing "Diligent Joy". I'll leave you with those thought provoking little tidbits....Jillhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09734841701494978379noreply@blogger.com0