Probably my new favorite comic strip...

You might have to click on some of these to see them...

Yahooo for DeFlocked, by Jeff Corriveau!! :)
www.deflocked.com

Sunday Will Come

On February 17, 2009 I got a voice mail message from my mom late at night, telling me that Dad had fallen down our basement stairs, she was taking him to the emergency room, and that he didn't have any feeling in his legs. That was the first step in a tumbling series of events that culminated, in my mind, with my dad being diagnosed with cancer. It was very hard for our whole family. My grandma had been battling breast cancer for over a year, and had just been told by her doctors that she probably only had three months left.

On a sidenote, this is one of the reasons that my grandma is one of my biggest heroes- when my family (my awesome cousins and grandparents) told me about what happened to my dad, my grandma immediately called me over to her and started comforting me. She told me that my dad's cancer was much different from hers, it wasn't going to be the same, but if it was my dad was strong and to have faith. She was fighting a losing battle with the debilitating disease, and she was concerned about how I was feeling. That's one of the reasons why Grandma never really lost that battle- she was the winner. She beat her cancer because she never lost hope and compassion for others.

This winter was the most trying, hardest thing I have ever done or been through. Soon after I found out about Dad I went and talked to my bishop, the priest or minister of my student ward (congregation). I was blessed to have an extremely loving, caring Bishop who was in tune to what the Lord wanted him to do. I like to think that I'm not an extremely talkative person in general, but for some reason, I find it very difficult to divulge feelings all the time, especially sad and frustrated ones. My bishop, however, thought that I should come talk to him at least twice a week, to check up on how I was doing, and to see what was going on with my family. At first I thought that was a bit much, but it turned out to be the best part of my week and I really needed it.

This all has a tying point. On Saturday my Aunt Rainee passed away unexpectedly. She was a loving, caring aunt with a larger-than-life personality. She leaves behind her my two cousins, Erin and Patrick, as well as my Uncle Brian. My Uncle Brian has a very serious liver condition right now, and is on a liver donor-transplant waiting list. He has been in and out of the hospital all year. My cousin Erin is a sophomore at University in Georgia, and Patrick is a sophomore in high school.

During one of the talks with my bishop he told me, "Sunday will come. No matter how dark your Friday is right now, Sunday will come." He was quoting a talk by Joseph B. Wirthlin, who we believe to be an apostle of the Lord. This talk was given shortly after the passing of his wife Elisa, and I'd like to just quote part of it here (sorry it's so long- really good though):

"I think of how dark that Friday was when Christ was lifted up on the cross. On that terrible Friday the earth shook and grew dark. Frightful storms lashed at the earth. Those evil men who sought His life rejoiced. Now that Jesus was no more, surely those who followed Him would disperse. On that day they stood triumphant. On that day the veil of the temple was rent in twain. Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of Jesus, were both overcome with grief and despair. The superb man they had loved and honored hung lifeless upon the cross. On that Friday the Apostles were devastated. Jesus, their Savior—the man who had walked on water and raised the dead—was Himself at the mercy of wicked men. They watched
helplessly as He was overcome by His enemies.

On that Friday the Savior of mankind was humiliated and bruised, abused and reviled. It was a Friday filled with devastating, consuming sorrow that gnawed at the souls of those who loved and honored the Son of God. I think that of all the days since the beginning of this world’s history, that Friday was the darkest.

But the doom of that day did not endure. The despair did not linger because on Sunday, the resurrected Lord burst the bonds of death. He ascended from the grave and appeared gloriously triumphant as the Savior of all mankind. And in an instant the eyes that had been filled with ever-flowing tears dried. The lips that had whispered prayers of distress and grief now filled the air with wondrous praise, for Jesus the Christ, the Son of the living God, stood before them as the firstfruits of the Resurrection, the proof that death is merely the beginning of a new and wondrous
existence.

Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays. But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come. No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come."

My cousins right now are going through an indescribably hard Friday right now. My immediate family is going through a very difficult Friday, but no matter how hard ours seems, I can't help but feel like Erin, Patrick and Uncle Brian are going through so much more.

But it's my testimony that no matter how dark our Fridays become, how hopeless it seems, and how helpless we feel, just remember- Sunday will come. Some day everything will be all right and at peace. My cousins will be able to see their mom again. I learned alot last semester, from the school of hard-knocks called Life. The thought of Sunday is what helped me get through all my fridays. My cousins Sunday is coming. So is yours.

The Calzone, A Superior Pizza

Calzones are one of my favorite food groups (a sub-group of the "pizza" category). The Cougareat at BYU has a Freschetta that I used to go to religiously. Every week (usually Tuesday, before I'd spent my meal card money on groceries) I'd stop by for my Hawaiian, Pepperoni or Steak and Alfredo Sauce bit of turnover goodness.

But really, the more I think about it, Calzones are more than just a good meal. They are like a giant slice of life. Although, their not really slices, they're more like little bundles of goodness all jumbled up together.

What do life and calzones have in common? You can't really tell what either is really like until you take a big bite out of them, and occasionally each give you gas.

They have a gooey interior wrapped up in a shell of flaky, buttery, tougher deliciousness. Although the insides are good, the outside is what makes it all come together.

Also, let's be realistic- an uncooked calzone is NOT delicious. It has to be put through the adversity of the oven before it can be consumed. A calzone may have potential before, but it will never reach it if it doesn't get baked. You know, being baked is probably a fairly uncomfortable feeling- but if it doesn't go through that, how in the world am I supposed to eat it?? What a tragedy- an almost waste of a perfectly good meal. We have to be cooked to get rid of all the bad stuff, like salmonella. Erm, the calzone, I mean.

I think it's important to remember, however, that without the insides (the "flavoring"), all we get is a piece of bread. Just like without the crusty outsides, all we get is a salad of sorts. Balance, people- there needs to be balance in all things.

I should start my own advice column- what do you think?

:)