Dear family and friends,
Getting married is as good as time as ever to change my blog address. The one I have now is a result of 'liberty' and 'baker' in every which way already used as a blog address. My room mate and I were singing a song "In your skivies like a sailor man...." by Seve vs. Evan and either she or I just typed the words in as a joke and it STUCK and it was too late to change it! But I had to have the blog for my English class so I left it.. oh well.
Now my new address is www.libbywoodland.blogspot.com (I think it has a nice ring to it!)
Friends, Family, Loved ones, Please visit there from this point forward! Thanks!
Libby

love love love

My life consists of only a few things these days: work, church, running, and a boy I like to call David Sven Woodland.
Thus my life in the blogging world has come to halt over these few months as I have spent more and more time with this boy I now LOVE.
It all started when some friends of mine that are in a band were playing at a local music gallery downtown. I went with some girl friends and was having a great time; because these boys were my friends I knew all their songs and had several friends there as well. I don’t know what time of the evening, or where I was exactly when my eyes first made contact with this certain boy’s eyes. He was sitting on the side and he was wearing a long sleeved white shirt and a scarf rapped loosely around his neck. He had big eyes and black hair. We managed to make eye contact a few more times and I pointed him out to every one of my girl friends- “look how cute that scarf boy is!” One of the times we made eye contact he gave me a big toothy grin (that showed beautiful teeth by the way) but what was I to do? This has never happened to me before, there’s never a huge smile- if there’s a smile at all it is quaint and unassuming. I nervously looked away. Later in the evening scarf boy had moved towards the back of the room and my friends were towards the back of the room too…perfect. I went and sat down right behind him with my friends. But then another boy who I had met earlier in the night came up and asked me what I was doing next weekend and if he could get my number. The whole time he is talking to me I am dying 'scarf boy is right in front of me what are you doing?' And he gives me his phone to put my number in it… I think to myself 'why do I have to give my number to this guy I am not interested in because I feel bad saying no… why do I have to go out with him when I really don’t want to cause I feel bad?' So I insert a fake phone number in his phone. I know it, I know it- it is a horrible and evil thing to do but I did it okay!? So then he starts to call me so I’ll have his number in my phone (which is sitting in my lap) so I briefly say goodbye and take off to talk to my room mate on the other side of the room. I was embarrassed because I feared scarf boy had seen this whole scene, how could he not he was right there?! Later in the evening when we were all getting ready to leave this fake number boy started walking towards us and I was scared he was going to call me out and my room mate Shay was saying ‘hide hide hide!’ but I saw scarf boy standing there with his friends and I thought (other than he is 2 feet taller than this fake number boy so he wouldn’t have the nerve to come up to me if I were next to him) I thought 'if I don’t say something now I may miss the chance to ever know if this guy is awesome or not.' So I went up an introduced myself and learned his name is David. He and his friends invited us to the Malt Shoppe after that and I am not going to lie, conversation between David and I was a bit slow, but he did get my real phone number after wards. The next day was a Sunday and we had Stake conference (turns out we are in the same stake) we texted a little that day and then I knew he was funny and clever. I didn’t hear from him until the following Wednesday and Thursday and was awkward in my responses. I ended up going to a Mexican concert in Salt Lake with him and his friends that Thursday and had a great time but didn’t get to know him real well. We went on our first official date the next night and I have seen him every day since (except a week where he went to Florida with his family). He told me he loved me after a month, and I said it back. We talked about marriage after two months. We were engaged at three months. Even after the first week I didn’t know how I lived life without him, how did I find joy that didn’t include him?
All of my fears and reservations about boys and relationships were all put aside as I got to know him. Even from the beginning he would say and do things that calmed my fears and I would say in my heart: 'thank you Heavenly Father, he is kind' or 'thank you Heavenly Father, he is a hard worker' or 'thank you Heavenly Father, he loves you and has served you faithfully' or 'thank you Heavenly Father, he understands me and doesn’t judge me' or 'thank you Heavenly Father, he is a good man.' I could go on there are so many qualities I love about him but mostly I just love him for who he is. I can get him to smile and laugh, I can get him to tell me his thoughts, I can tell how he is feeling, and I love it. He gets me, he can make me laugh, he hears me out on all my crazy thoughts, and he loves me.
Getting to know him has been so fun and I have had more peace in my heart then ever before. I am such an indecisive person but this has been the one decision in my life that hasn’t been hard to make. I know David Sven Woodland is the one for me and I am so grateful our paths crossed, that we could meet, and fall head over heels in love. This ring on my finger is a symbol that I get to be with him forever and there is nothing in life that could make me happier! Yesterday he went to California for his best friends wedding and it is the first time in three months I haven’t seen him every day. I miss him so much. I am so excited I get to spend an eternity with him!

I thought it about time...

That I write a blog post, it has been awhile.

I just back from going to Salt Lake with a friend where his uncle was recognized for helping write the religious freedom section of constitutions all over the world. He has helped 170 countries and is passionate about his work. His life is dedicated to help people everywhere have religious liberties. I was awestruck as I listened to others talk about this man and then listened to him myself. I feel like, in life, there is so much talk about doing good things in and for the world and yet so little action. Everyone has good intentions I am sure, but here is a man who got the necessary education, followed the spirit of the Holy Ghost in his life, and had the mental resolve and capacity to make a huge difference in the lives of individuals everywhere. I am inspired and encouraged by that. Wow.

I have been thinking about charity lately. This winter it snowed one day at work about 8 inches. When I went out to my car there was a little path in front of my door; not only that but all the snow was swept off the windows, roof, trunk, and front of my car. I was so touched by this and knew my boss Mike had done it. As I drove away I was thinking about this, he didn’t have to do it- I am very capable of scraping snow off my car. Yet here a CEO of a company who has a million things to do every day- who gets to work at 5 in the morning and doesn’t leave until 6 because he is so busy- comes out in the blizzard and wipes off my car. I just still- even three months later- can’t get over how kind that was. I have been sick since the end of December with a sinus infection that wouldn’t go away despite Dr.’s visits and antibiotics. I did finally figure out the problem but it was a miserable, painful, and embarrassing time for me… and it lasted forever. I was thinking about though how charity isn’t just for when we feel good, or when we are happy, or when it is convenient for us to be or do something nice. Charity, to me, is to be giving of yourself even when you feel awful; it is going out of your way to do something nice even when you really don’t have time for it. A charitable person never makes excuses for missing service opportunities because she doesn’t miss them- she pounces and blesses lives in the meantime!

I also have been thinking about my sister Cassidy. I don’t mean to be cheesy but I just love her so much. We never really quite got along growing up, except when she would ‘play’ (dress them up and arrange their homes and family situations) barbies with me. My friends always liked her better than me. Everyone loved having Cassidy babysit and I would usually get to go along too. Whenever she babysat Danielle’s family she was always the protective lioness coming to save her young and I was always the mean zoo keeper- I don’t know why I was that but I always was. Hmmm. Everyone who knows her can’t help but love her and everything is always more fun when she is there. Whenever I am in a situation that I don’t particularly enjoy or is super boring I always think to myself, ‘this would be so much more fun if Cassidy were here.’ We have gotten so close over the years and I am so grateful for her. There is just something about sisters- a closeness that comes from being girls and having the same genetic makeup. I know her heartache is my heartache; and when I tease her for being sick not five minutes after I hang up I am throwing up too (that happened once so I never have laughed about upset stomachs again!). When I was in high school and ran for Miss Moses Lake she wrote me a good luck card and on the front it says ‘half of doing is believing you can,’ inside the card she wrote me the kindest letter and told me it didn’t really matter at all how I did. She also told me she was glad I was in our family-that card means the world to me and I still, five years later, have it on my bulletin board. I understand her and how she feels, and she gets me. I don’t even have to explain myself and she is on my side. Heavenly Father sure knew what he was doing when He put us together.

Also I have been thinking about happiness. I am convinced it is a choice. Everyone who is ever a happy person, who lives their life in a good mood and trying to make others in a good mood- CHOSE to be that way. Life isn’t going to be easy, it isn’t always going to be fun- and I think that is the point. We are here to prove that we can be obedient and happy despite what may come up in our lives.

I met Elder Oakes tonight at this dinner thing in Salt Lake. He shook my hand… so if you shake my hand it will be like you shook the hand that shook the hand…. (get it? Grandpa Baker? Anyone? Anyone?)

This is what happens at night. I get tired and my mind starts to wander. I should get to bed but I am waiting for Shay to get home. I am so grateful for life, I am so grateful for a Heavenly Father who loves me. I am grateful for His plan of happiness and that He allowed His only begotten son to come to earth. I am grateful for the life and death of Jesus Christ; I love pondering at what He did and why He did it. We are so blessed and I can’t wait for the day when I can see Him face to face. Well I am too tired for words, good night.

Y I love Provo

I graduated last April from BYU. After traveling around the country and the Bahamas and hanging out at home I decided I needed to find a job and place to live. I found a job in Sandy, Ut. that was perfect for me and after several rooming fiascos found a place in Provo to live where I would get to live with my friend Shay.
Every day on my way home from work I would exit the freeway onto Center Street in Provo and would see that big white Y staring at me from the mountain; I would ask myself Y (why) am I here?! Seeing this large Y on the mountain every day and questioning myself, as well as trying to think of answers for others as to why I am still living in Provo, made me question why I am truly here. I have had much time to ponder and reflect on why I am still here; these are my reasons:
1. I have a history here. I have many wonderful memories and have met literally hundreds of friends here. There are so many good people here my age and with my same standards. A big reason for me as well was because a few of my best friends are still here- Chrissy, Elliott, Andre, Peter, Shay, Sara. Also several of my cousins that are my age are here as well- Reece, Danielle, Jordan, and Chase. What a perfect time for me to still be surrounded by wonderful friends and family before life takes us elsewhere!
2. I have a heritage here. Through all the seasons I can't help but think of my forebears who have been here before me and who lived in this valley and dealt with the same bitter cold and beautiful sun as I do now. One of my great great great great grandfather's, George Washington Bean, brought his sister and her little baby across the plains when he was 16 while his brother-in-law was in the Mormon Battalion in New Mexico. When he was 17 Brigham Young sent him and some others to come down to Provo to settle the area and befriend the Native Americans. In July of that same year they were having a fourth of July celebration in Provo and were using a cannon that someone in their company had brought across the plains from the Nauvoo legion. After the first shot they didn't clean out the cannon and were stuffing rags and kindling down in it with a hickory pole before firing it again and it backfired! The hickory pole exploded and killed the man in front of Grandpa Bean who was shoving the pole down. Grandpa Bean's arm was blown off and his face was so badly burnt and scabbed they thought he would be blind. He had splinters and slivers all over his body. The Native Americans helped nurse him back to health and through spending so much time with them he learned their language and was able to interpret for Brigham Young. He had a jar full of slivers that he continuously added to as he pulled slivers out of his body for the rest of his life.
3. Provo, to me, is a whimsical place of sorts. I am fascinated by the fact that so many people find love here. No matter their size, personality, looks, whatever, they find someone who adores them. I love watching couples love one another. Every day on my way to work (I now work full time in Provo Wahoo!) I drive past the place where my parents met. Now it is just a simple soccer field used for intramural sports games, but it used to be the Animal Science part of BYU. My mom- a small, witty cattle rancher's daughter, and my dad- a fun spirited farmer's son with a love for livestock, met in an Animal Science class- how appropriate. My dad actually set my mom up on a double date with his friend Marlo Merrell; then the next time my dad asked her out for himself! I love driving by that place where they met and thinking that all I have in my life and life itself comes from them meeting one another, loving one another, and marrying one another.
4. I learn from people here. I think this would happen anywhere but I am fascinated by the insights of those who live here. I am encouraged and inspired as I work, live, and associate with people who are really smart in many different aspects of their lives. They come from all over the world and have so much to give and I just love taking it all in!
5. I learned in my geology class that billions of years ago this valley would have been lagoons and oceans and that is why there is so much limestone and sand! Then thousands and thousands of years ago there were huge glaciers and lots of snow here that melted and brought streams carrying more gravel and sand into the area. How awesome is that! It completely blows my mind that the culmination of the earths changes over billions of years has formed this valley that I now live in! I can just imagine myself laying on my stomach with my head in my hands just watching the earth be created and watching this little valley form and anticipate that I would spend several years of my life there meeting incredible people!
So there you have it! Just a few reasons why I love Provo.

An overwhelming time of year...

Christmas is a strange time of year for me. I felt this way last Christmas-my first Christmas after my Jerusalem experience-but I had no idea the feelings would return again this Christmas season.
This last Sunday was our Christmas sacrament meeting and I cried during every song... I can't help it, I am overwhelmed with the knowledge that Jesus was born in Bethlehem. I have known this all my life of course, I have read Luke 2 a million times and acted it out with my cousins every Christmas eve, but just the thought brings tears to my eyes.
I went to a church in Bethlehem that is called the Church of the Nativity. There is a door in that church that leads down stone steps into a cave that is where Mary and Joseph stayed on that night so long ago. After the 44 students in our group sang songs in that cave together we were rushed out because another group was coming in. We broke off into groups and went shopping in the streets of Bethlehem. Four other girls and I snuck back into the church (they were closing it down for some important people who were visiting) and we went down in that cave, it was just us five girls. We sat down and felt the utter serenity of this cold, damp, stone cave. We sang Silent Night and it was the sweetest sound and spirit I have ever heard or felt, in my life.
As Christmas has been approaching I don't even want to think about Christmas day, I don't even want to touch it; if that makes any sense. It is too special, and too sacred for me to think of the day that we celebrate the birth of the Savior in any way other then with complete respect and reverence.
I got to live in the Holy Land for four months of my life. I got to walk the streets where the Savior lived, read the accounts of Him in all the places they took place. his spirit is still there and the white stone, dusty earth, and blue sky proclaim that He still lives.
I am home now from that wonderful experience but I still learn of Him in the scriptures. I love to read about Jesus, who He is and what He does and did. He lives just as much today as He ever physically did on the earth. He gives us His spirit, He helps us, He helps us help others, through Him we are able to love and feel love.
I am so grateful for my Savior Jesus Christ, and I love everything about His birth and its holy meaning for the salvation of the world. I am grateful for Christmas because it symbolizes one of the greatest events in the history of the world. I am sure we were all joyous and cheering in heaven on that night when the star shone so bright, for we knew He would be our King and the importance His atonement would make in our lives.

Nothing is as fun as coating golf balls in rubber cement, lighting them on fire, then hitting them into Utah Lake. I dare you to try.

How does she know?

The song from Enchanted pops into my head and I have a visual image of my three year old niece, Ivie, singing at the top of her lungs the words to this song, “How does she know you love her, how does she know you care…”

Obviously this song is about the love between a man and a woman but I have been plagued with the question lately “How does she know that her God loves her? Does she know?” There is a girl in my ward who I don’t think knows that God loves her.

Not that this is an uncommon occurrence but it still breaks my heart. If she knew her Heavenly Father loved her she would eat better, take care of herself better, and not seek the attention from unsuitable sources. She would be grateful for the body He gave her, and take care of it with the knowledge of the many blessings that come from having a mortal body here on earth. She would dress more modestly to show her respect and gratitude for having the beautiful body she has- and she truly is a beautiful girl.

Once upon a time in my own life I never quite knew of His love, or of its magnitude. I hoped that He loved me, but I never really knew. I craved his affections, but felt undeserving. It was the hardest thing I ever had to do to get on my knees and ask my Heavenly Father if He loved me…and did he? YES…absolutely… even unequivocally. BUT it took more humility than I physically felt my spirit could hold to offer up everything: feelings of inadequacy, my dreams, the desires of my heart, and so forth.

I wish I could tell this dear sister in my ward that she IS adequate and that she IS loved. I wish she knew all the little things God does for her to even get a smile out of her, or to make her feel special, or how aware of every little and big worry, and that He even watched as His very own beloved Son suffered immensely- both physically, spiritually, and emotionally- for her; and so that she could be comforted.

I think we forget sometimes how much our Heavenly Father loves us, how many people are praying for us, and how ready and willing He is to bless our lives. So how does she know? How will she know? Perhaps by friends and others who go out of their way to be witnesses of His love for her?

I know what I must do. I know the courage it will take. I know it may blow up in my face. I also know that it can change a girl’s life to know she is loved by God.