Swiss Roots

Do you believe in coincidences?
Someone once told me that coincidences are just God's way of going under cover....I don't know if I would go as far as to say that, but sometimes it is miraculous the ways things fall into place.

The main reason I wanted to go on this trip was to trace my Swiss roots. Since both of my grandmother's parents were from Switzerland, I believe part of my blood must be Swiss chocolate.

So there we were - driving in the pouring rain, holding an old photo of my Great-Great Grandfather's house and an outdated map with little red circles and no street names. We were bound and determined to find this house.
Up and down, back around, turning here, stopping there. We sifted every house on this one street in this tiny cow town at least twice. None of them matched the picture and I was beginning to lose hope...and patience.
"Can we please just stop and ask someone?" I plead. So we pulled over at a random business and went in hoping for some answers.
COINCIDENCE #1 - Not only did we find someone who speaks fluent English, but this little business also happens to be the real estate agency that tore down my Great-Great Grandfather's house in the late 90's. They looked up the information and pointed us to the place the house used to stand.

Even though the house was gone, I was pleased to know we hadn't been looking on the wrong street after all. With new hope, we headed to the next town and the next house hunt. We climbed the green hills and there it was. Perfect. I was so happy to find it still standing. We met the woman who lives in the house currently, took lots of pictures, and directed our paths toward the rock quarry my Great-Great Grandfather used to own.

I assume not many tourists drive their cars into rock quarries, because a car followed us in and certainly was curious as to our intentions. The lady asked if she could help us and we (with the aide of pictures and family trees) explained our purpose for being in the rock quarry.
COINCIDENCE #2 - This woman just so happens to have the same last name as my relatives and her husband is the current owner of this quarry. She invited us to her restaurant, where we swapped old photographs and attempted to piece together the possibility of our connection. We didn't ever pin it down because the language barrier provides some difficulty, but her husband's family happens to come from the same city that my Great-Great Grandfather's brother was from. Even if we are not related, what were the chances that another Bruderer would run into us in the quarry??

Reading my Great-Great Grandfather's autobiography and then seeing the places he described was something very special. I saw my Grandma's brothers in each of the Appenzeller men - the similarity in stance was undeniable. Perhaps heightened because I lost my grandma just last winter, but I felt my family with me in the most peaceful way there. They were proud of me (for what I am not really sure), but I felt of their happiness and love.

So even if Switzerland weren't one of the most beautiful places with the best chocolates and cheese, it would still be dear to my heart because it's part of my history.

My Great Grandparents

Love Locked

I'm back! Did you miss me? I've spent the last 18 days trotting around Austria and Switzerland with my mother and of course I could share endless stories, but I figure I just want to post a few of the moments that aren't caught in the pictures or the journal entries...the pure experiences.

So today we'll start with the love locks. I first noticed them in Salzburg on this pedestrian bridge. As soon as I saw the hundreds of locks on this bridge, I knew it had to be something important. Was it a traveling art piece? A temporary memorial? I didn't know, and I couldn't find any sign to explain it. As I continued through the city I occasionally saw signs in shops or booths offering a lock for sale. My German is so limited, but from the few words I knew, I could piece together that these were Locks of Love.

So here's the experience-I walked across the bridge and handled a few of the locks. I saw names, dates, hearts, etc. Most of the names were boy and girl pairings, but a few seemed like friends or even mother-daughters. My mother's friend commented about how crazy these locks were, but I was basking in their beauty. It struck me that each of these locks represented one single moment where someone (hopefully two people) felt loved. A frozen moment of being somebody cherished. So sappy me, almost started crying because a midst all the sadness, loneliness, hate, and prejudice in the world, here was the hopeful reminder that people are loved. Hundreds of people held a single moment of love on this bridge, and it doesn't even matter if most of these couples never ended up "working" because sometime in their life they felt loved...and that is beautiful.

The locks didn't leave me when I left Salzburg. I continued to find them on a bridge overlooking Neuschwanstein Castle and then a guard fence overlooking a waterfall in Lauterbrunnen. They were everywhere reminding me that love still exists. It even found me in the last five minutes of my film on the airplane. In the flick, it said something about how people will throw the keys to these locks into the river to keep their secret / lock their love forever.

So here's to those who have ever felt a moment of being loved. It is special and sparkling - something we should lock up into our hearts good and tight.

Stay tuned for more European experiences.

That is exactly how it feels!!

Apparently I have a thing for poets who write novels.
Perhaps one day I'll marry one, or better yet, become one. Anyway, my most recent pleasurable discovery came in the form of "Hannah Coulter" by Wendell Berry. I knew it was going to be good when I was reading it on the beach with tears coming to my eyes, warmth to my heart, and the frantic need for a pen! And in the margin I wrote -"That is exactly how it feels!"

I like to mark up my books - no I LOVE to mark up my books. It's the way I salute the author for their beauty and technique. But more importantly, it's the way I discover things I need.

 I needed this book. I needed Wendell Berry to put my feelings into words and also engage me in a good story. Besides the accomplishment of perfectly capturing a woman's mind in this faux autobiography, Berry also captured my own raw heart. Here's what I found:

1st. ME The perfect definition of my right now  = "I was a half lost, ignorant girl, trying to find my way into womanhood and a decent-paying job" and "Time doesn't stop. Your life doesn't stop and wait until you get ready to start living it"

2nd.  LOVE. I've been in love once. You can scoff all you want at that and claim I know nothing of true sacrificing love since I've never been married or given my "whole" self to someone, and perhaps this is true, but what I know of love so far is all I can go off of. When you are in love, it's as if there is no time and the clock on the dashboard is your worst enemy. I think I once described it as "the time when I feel like all those outside realities that clamp down on our being "us" don't really exist. It's a dream. It's another time and a different world where the possibility of us just being together actually exists and it feels good." But, Wendell Berry got it better. Here's his definition:
"The room of love is another world. You go there wearing no watch, watching no clock. It is the world without end, so small that two people can hold it in their arms, and yet it is bigger than worlds on worlds, for it contains the longing of all things to be together, and to be at rest together. You come together to the day's end, weary and sore, troubled and afraid. You take it all into your arms, it goes away, and there you are where giving and taking are the same, and you live a little while entirely in a gift" 
That is beautiful. I look forward to that room of love, but Berry writes that "you can't get there just by wanting to...the meeting is prepared in the long day, in the work of years, in the keeping of faith, in kindness"

3rd. Grief In many ways this goes along with the discoveries on love because "you can't give yourself over to love for somebody without giving yourself over to suffering" (Berry). Love requires vulnerability - the possibility to hurt and be hurt by the ones we most care about.  Sometimes break ups feel like new beginnings and sometimes they feel like deaths. When a part of you dies, or when that someone you loved has died (literally or metaphorically), you grieve. It's natural. It's the memories running through your brain as you fail to sleep, or the explosion that hits you in the morning when you realize -yes, this is still real. "But grief is not a force and has no power to hold. You only bear it. Love is what carries you, for it is always there, even in the dark, or most in the dark, but shining out at times like gold stitches in a piece of embroidery" (Berry). 
And here's the thing. Life always calls you back and we are loved all the way through. We don't quit living. We beat on. Life "calls [us] into work and pleasure, goodness and beauty, and the company of other loved ones" (Berry). Soon times passes and we heal. Little pleasures return from the most ordinary of things -green grass, crickets, clouds, laughter. Love carries us.

So there you go. My gushing about my most recent read. Hopefully I've intrigued you enough to want to pick this one up at the library, but if not---thanks for indulging me and my raw thoughts. I know I've been posting a lot recently, but now i'm heading out of the country and you can have a break until I return with more musings.

And My Heart Aches

Syria. There's been a lot of talk about it recently: A lot of questions and opinions stored away and sometimes too freely given. I first heard about Syria a little over a year ago from my sister Tammy (who is much more informed and involved than I am - honestly, she should be writing this post). Back then the people in Syria were dying, children were dying, and it was as if no one was listening. Sadly, things have only changed for the worse since then. In my mind, I keep hearing the song that John Adams sings in the musical 1776 - "Is anybody there? Does anybody care? Does anybody see what I see?"

Yes, we are here. Yes, we see what is going on. Yes, we care....but we are scared and we don't know what to do.

 I'm not saying this is an easy decision -cause it's not. In many ways, it is likely a lose-lose kind of battle. I'm not saying it's the United States job to go in and fix everything, but I am saying that the world should care. I believe in our unified humanity and is not the cause of humanity worth standing up together as a worldwide civilization and saying, "Hey, we won't stand for this"? And yet, it is so much trickier than that. I realize I don't know all the facts, nor all the consequences. I'm a humanities major who lived in the Provo bubble without news for way too long. I'm a "feeler" and thus my emotions probably too often sway my logic. But right now, I sense a lot of fear - fear about political sway, fear about unwanted outcomes, fear about stepping on others' toes, etc.  I don't want to go to war, but my heart aches for these people and their suffering.

Yet what can I do? My own country's hands are tied in trying to figure out what to do, so how can I expect to make any kind of a difference? Prayer -That's all I have. But what do you pray for when hundreds of innocent people are dying like this? Deliverance. Deliverance from suffering, pain, etc. What if death is the only deliverance happening? It's all so hard.

My sister says that sometimes all we can do is bear witness to one another's pain. The "I recognize that you are suffering and I am so so sorry." It's the tears shed for the pain of another. It's the comfort that someone out there does care. Is that enough? Perhaps not, but it's something.

When I Grow Up

The elementary school library was empty except for a friendly mom and her camera set up in front of the green leather chair. The cool of the leather swallowed my awkwardly pubescent body and the combo of my red shirt and evergreen chair created the sensation of too much Christmas.

It was the end of 6th grade and I had a perm. We were filming for our graduation video and all I had to do was say my name and what I was going to be when I grew up. Simple enough. "My name is Jenny Thorup and when I grow up I'm going to be a Mom."

Apparently that wasn't the answer this PTA mom was looking for. I think she kindly said that it was great I wanted to be a mom, but proceeded to ask me what else I wanted to be. Like a job? Hmmmm... "My name is Jenny Thorup and when I grow up i'm going to be a Broadway singer." Great. That's a wrap.

Although I'm a 7th grader here, this is the same shirt and hair style I had in the 6th grade movie....

Fast forward exactly 10 years to another exciting graduation. Thank heavens I've finally grown into my body and left that perm behind. I suppose you could say i'm "all grown up" now. I've got a college degree on my wall, a savings account, and a retirement plan. But, if i'm all grown up...shouldn't I know what I want to be by now?

In my current phase of life, I get a lot of questions like "If you could do anything (for a career or job), what would you want to do?" or "What's your dream job, where do you want to end up?" or my all-time favorite, "well, what are you good at?" These questions are supposed to help me find direction, a career, a purpose after school, but somehow they often leave me feeling even more confused.

BYU Graduation

In some ways I think i'm still stuck in that awkward angsty 6th grade mindset. Can't it just be ok that maybe I want to end up at being a stay-at-home Mom making lunches, running errands, fueling dreams? Is that somehow a waste of my potential, my brain, my talents? Do I have to prove something by being a successful Broadway singer, a professor, a lawyer, a business woman, etc.?

Now you're probably pegging me as that "molly-mormon", brainwashed, BYU girl, who went to college for the sole purpose to meet a husband and ultimately fulfill her one goal of bearing children. WRONG! Despite how it may seem, that's not it at all. I went to college because I didn't want to be that person. I wanted to be the woman who was independent and fit to support herself if life needed her to. I wanted to be intellectual, accomplished, cultured, able to make some sort of difference in the world. I wasn't trying to get married necessarily, but trying to become the type of woman that the man of my dreams would want to promise eternity for. And although I really want to be a Mom, I didn't want to be an undergraduate mother. (I still don't see myself having children till the latter end of my twenties) I wanted to be knowledgeable enough to teach my children about the world and empowering enough to show my daughters how to reach for the stars! 

For some, their University years are about becoming what they wanted to be when they grew up - the doctor, the history teacher, etc. And that is awesome, but my education was more about becoming a better me. Becoming Who I want to be when I grow up, instead of What. Admittedly, I watch friends get married, go to grad school, pursue PHDs, accept salary-paying positions, and that little feeling of being left behind as if i'm not living up to my full potential creeps up and sits on my shoulders. But, I'm realizing those feelings are only poor comparisons and comparing never leaves anyone happy. I'm me and I'm great. In a lot of ways, I'm still growing up. But, when I do grow up I am going to be something / someone beautiful and sparkling like a word, or a curling wave, and one way or another I'm going to be in love - with my life, with my husband, with my kids, and perhaps even with a career.

Zen at the Zoo

So I live by a Zoo. 

Sadly, I've probably been to the Zoo more times as an adult than I did as a child, and perhaps I have my niece to thank for that. 

This is baby Zuri and her mom Christie. Zuri just celebrated her fourth birthday and is much bigger now (she and my niece are the same age, so they feel like kin). If the baby elephant wasn't cute enough, Zuri also lives with her grandmother (Dari) who is the oldest elephant in North America!
I like to watch these female elephants take care of each other in their matriarchy.
 Currently, my Dad is the only male in a house full of women - this might drive him nuts eventually.
With my mom, my two older sisters, my niece, and myself, we make up a fine little matriarchy raising a four-year old baby elephant! except she actually thinks she's a lion, but that's ok. 

We also have a baby giraffe at the zoo! She's so beautiful with her awkwardly skinny legs. I first met her when she was just a month or two old. I saw her learning how to run as she scampered off amongst the slow moving adults. I laughed seeing the adults tolerate her energy and wobbly legs learning new strides.

However, I think my all-time favorite are the seals. I could watch them forever floating on their back like a smooth torpedo through the cold water. They are so zen. Sometimes I imagine coming to the zoo when a day has been especially difficult and just watching the seals until I feel at peace again. I love to watch them transition from land to water. On the land they move slowly and awkwardly as they wiggle themselves one blubber piece at a time, but once they hit the water- they glide! They thrive in their element (their niche) and they seem blissful. 

Maybe we are all like that at times. We flounder around trying to be someone we're not, or in a situation we aren't used to, but once we hit the water (that thing that makes us feel most ourselves) we zoom, thrive, glide, and bathe in the glory of our niche. I guess i'm trying to find that right now- trying to reconnect with my niche. Wow! The things you discover about yourself at the Zoo.

An EFY experience

These last four weeks I have been working as a counselor with EFY (Especially for Youth). This program is a week long experience put on by the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints to help youth (ages 14-18) come closer to Christ as well as have a whole lot of fun! 

Honestly, I came into this EFY experience having just graduated and feeling uncertain about my future decisions. EFY was my only stable certainty. But, now i'm leaving it a completely different woman. I feel changed. Although my actual situation hasn't changed much at all, I am filled with hope, trust, joy, love, and peace. 

It's hard to sum up four weeks like i've had, but i'm gonna try: 

4 weeks, 2 campuses, 1 broken shoe, 2 broken fans, 1 broken pair of sunglasses

46 beautiful young women I call my own

2 Counselor Polo shirts 

1 sun hat

10 Bloody Noses

6 Co-Counselors 

4 pizza nights, games nights, and talent shows

8 crazy dance fests

3 opportunities to sing

18+ firesides 

24 days of Cafeteria Food

5 Testimony Meetings

8 Classes attended

24 days waking up at 6 am or earlier 

2 Firework shows missed

2 Handkerchiefs well-used

I can't put a number to the amount of times I prayed, read my scriptures, bore my testimony, led a line of young boys escorting girls to and from the U of U institute, smiled, laughed, cried, and was way too sweaty. But, honestly the most amazing thing about EFY for me cannot be measured with numbers or events. 

Yes, the youth are amazing even amidst their lack of focus and occasional immaturity. They are strong girls and boys going through some very difficult trials with hope and a firmness of faith. 

I learned from them all the time, but I also learned with them. In each fireside, class, and activity, I became the participant. I became the youth this program is especially for. In my hoping to bring these kids closer to their savior and to a knowledge that their Heavenly Father loves them, I subsequently found myself applying the atonement in my life like never before. I lost myself these last 4 weeks. My fears and insecurities were gone and I was stripped down to my pure eternal essence. I received answers to prayers, my heart healed, I learned lessons, and I grew "firmer and firmer in the faith". 

It isn't a perfect program and I am not here to bear my testimony of EFY. However, I have seen what turning to Christ does for the youth as well as for myself these past four weeks. We change, we grow, we stretch, we enjoy, we discover,  and we become.