a full minute.

When it's bright outside and you're walking some place you've walked 1,027 times before do you ever close your eyes? You know, as you take those steps that are as familiar as the smell of grass. Or a cold glass of milk. Or any other small comfort that maybe you never thought of before. Sometimes I do it. Close my eyes as I walk. To feel the warmth on my eyelids from that strong sun of ours. And what can sometimes feel like the unsuspecting best part is when I open my eyes again. Everything, the whole world even, is brighter than it was before. And when that happens, that extra brightness, I smile to myself and feel less silly for having closed my eyes in the first place. Because I realize, in that moment, that small bit of darkness is all I really needed. It is all I really needed to brighten my world a little more. If only for a slight second.

And if you were to add up all the slight seconds. Maybe someday, if I keep closing my eyes sometimes while I walk on those bright days, I'll have a full minute of extra brightness. Imagine what I can do with that. A full minute of extra brightness? Something amazing, I think.

happiness is...

cinnamon buns ice cream {I love you ben and jerry}
underlining words in books {mostly the pretty ones}

seeing friends on campus {I wish I could see them more}

two hour classes {as opposed to four}

pretend Spring {snow, I love you, but you let me down this year}

forehead kisses {a special kind of comfort}

being engaged {I'm kind of over-the-moon about it}

seeing my fiancé whenever possible {which isn't a lot, but he's kind of my favorite}

sleepless in seattle {seriously, it never gets old}

because I feel like love is all I want to talk about in February [the loveliest of all the months] or at least all I want to look at...

and things in my life are pretty lovely too.

as you would like to believe in yourself.

“He smiled understandingly, much more than understandingly. It was one of those rare smiles with a quality of eternal reassurance in it, that you may come across four or five times in life. It faced, or seemed to face, the whole external world for an instant, and then concentrated on you with an irresistible prejudice in your favor. It understood you just as far as you wanted to be understood, believed in you as you would like to believe in yourself.”

--F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

A favorite of mine. 

good people.

I have really good people in my life.

You know, the kind that care.
They care about you, and a lot of the time you aren't sure why.
The kind that when you've had a bad day,
they make you realize the good in it.
The kind that make you laugh
or let you cry.
They help you to see just how great you are.
And feel silly for having thought any different.

And then there are those random good people.
The ones you've never met before,
but they stop anyway.
The kind that are just looking to do something nice
because that's who they are
or what they were taught
and they saved your life.

At least for the night,
or maybe a whole week.

But all of these people,
they make you want to be better.
Kinder. Sweeter. More aware.

And they make you realize: someone is watching out for me.
Through a million someones.

I really like it.

 

Source: designcrushblog.com via Krystyna on Pinterest

I've felt like this often. When I find goodness in the words on a page.
And...
I've been dreaming about this fort lately.

Source: adarlingday.com via Rebecca on Pinterest

You know, the one from The Holiday. 

It's so lovely. I want to make one. (The post title is also from The Holiday and should be said in a childish English accent)

I also feel like calling this blog a blaaahhhg lately. Because it is so blah. And I have nothing to say. Well. That's not entirely true.

But I'll work on the blah-ness.

a love letter.

Dear Mom,

There are too many reasons why I love you. And around 78394765 reasons why you are such an incredible mom. I feel like I really lucked out in life, because I have you. You're my best friend and most of the time, I'd rather hang out with you than anyone else.

I must admit I really do love it when you come to my bathroom door at the end of the night begging for details. And how you will drive me to McDonalds past midnight when my (dramatic) life calls for a coke and chicken nuggets.

Thanks for not always saying "I told you so" even though you really, always, were and are right.

I know I can count on you (without fail) to check for earrings, lipgloss, and to make sure I smell good. And I really, really like knowing that you care. Even about the small stuff.

You're wonderful, and I hope you know that.
Love always,

Molly Jane

PS Hurry and come to Texas, I need help with my laundry. (JOKE)

happy april.

I love Spring.
I love warmth.

I love sunshine. 

I love General Conference.

I love it when my brother sings out loud.

I love watching my cuddly nephew put his head on my brother's arm.

I love getting a list of summer reading from my professor.
I love talking about England with those that know it well.

And Oh how I love April.

six years ago today

I found out I had appendicitis.
(reluctantly...I was in a great deal of pain, but my mom didn't want me to go to the doctor if it wasn't a big deal...she was willing if I was sure it was serious...which of course I wasn't  because I am never sure.)

I went to Dr. Mitch.
He poked me (particularly right on top of the parts that hurt)
(which made them hurt worse)
He hit the bottom of my foot (which again forced pain into the parts that already hurt)
He said things.
Things I don't really remember, except
I am 99.9% sure you have appendicitis. 
Go to the emergency room. Right away. 
If I'm right, you'll need to have it removed.


My mom drove me (in her red bug) to the ER.
We didn't say much...other than,
"Good thing we came to the doctor?"

Indeed.

I remember the lady asking me to number my pain.
Which was far too much pressure for my anxiety-filled mind.
What if I say the wrong number? What if they don't believe me?


When I had a moment to think,
I cried.
And my mom let me cry.


They ran more tests on me.
He was .1% unsure (which meant more tests)
They were uncomfortable (the kind that make me cringe)

I waited.
My brother and dad came before the surgery
(the surgery they knew for sure I now needed)
And they placed their hands on my head.

I cried then too.

My mom was by my side the whole time.
As they poked me with needles and questioned me and told me things.
She walked me down the same hallway that she had taken my grandpa 8 years before (almost to the day)
The same hallway that took him,
but didn't bring him back.

When I awoke they were there.
My mom. And my dad.
With smiles.

It may not seem like anything of importance to anyone else.
Routine surgery.
I know there are far worse things.
But I was 14.
And I was scared.

When I look back on it.

Sometimes I still cry. 

Not because it was a huge deal, 

Not because it was really that significant,

but because it is (almost) tangible evidence of the family that has changed my life.  

The family that makes me eternally grateful,

That my mom will never leave my side (even if she isn't phsyically with me)

That both my dad and my brother can bless me (in more ways than one)

That I get to be related to some of the most Christ-like people I know.

The reason behind this ridiculously long post (which I apologize for)...is the realization (a long time coming) that, I am one blessed girl. And I have the family to prove it.

be not afraid.

"You who pray sometimes, why not pray more regularly, more often, more devoutly? Is time so precious, life so short, or faith so scant? . . . Do you pray occasionally when you should be praying regularly, often, constantly? . . . Do you just speak, or do you also listen? . . . Do you give thanks or merely ask for favors?"

-Spencer W. Kimball

"Be strong and of a good courage; be not afraid, neither be thou dismayed: for the Lord thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest."

Joshua 1:9

all I need.

I want a guy who can come over and hug me if that's all I need.

"I need a hug," I'll say to him.

And thirty minutes later, he'll be at my front door, arms open wide, ready to take me in and wrap me up in his affection.

-Mae Zein Eldeen

hugs are my favorite.

Remember here?

such wonderful things. 

They usually make me feel like 

for a moment, at least, 

all is well.

and sometimes that's all I really need to know.

the rain has turned to snow.

The slushy kind of of snow.

Oh and it is May.
Well, it is actually the end of May.

Secretly (OK not so secretly)
I love that it is snowing.

(Even though I would probably prefer the warm)

I got to put on a coat today.
A really cute one, that I probably won't take off.

Some kind of comfort comes with that.
Kind of like I'm wearing a hug all day long.*

I love hugs.
And sometimes you just need them.

*credit goes to Whitney Stice for the analogy
*credit for the photo goes here