Another Way

*I know Christmas is over, but lights, nativities, and trees are still up, so I feel completely justified in the festive theme this post contains*

You could ask practically any child to describe the traditional nativity scene and they would knock it out of the park. They would tell you of sheep and a donkey, perhaps cattle and goats. They would describe shepherds and even wisemen, probably 3, as that is how tradition tells it. Maybe they would mention angels or a new star that hung in the sky as a sign of the glorious event that night. Hopefully they would mention Mary and Joseph, the humble stable, the lowly manger, and, of course, a baby born to change everything.

Like many others, my family used to reenact this scene on Christmas Eve with a couple of other close family friends as one of the dads would read from the Bible the account of the first noel. Though for a completely ridiculous reason, this tradition was always very difficult for me. You see, I always wanted to represent Mary. After all, she was the fair virgin chosen by God to bear His Son. Plus, it meant I got to hold the doll representing Baby Jesus (duh). However, every year, another girl was Mary and I was either an angel, a shepherd, or a wiseman (there aren't many other female rolls in the story lol). And every year, I moped because of it.

7-year old me didn't appreciate the privilege it was to represent the heavenly messengers who proclaimed the birth of the Savior or the world. 10-year old me didn't comprehend the significance of the lowly shepherds who immediately journeyed to see the baby and kneel before him. 13-year old me didn't understand the symbolism behind the wisemen who traveled far to bestow precious gifts to the little king. 22-year old me now sees the beauty in each character of this miraculous, holy, and true Christmas story.

This year, many of those same family friends from my childhood were together Christmas Eve night. We did not reenact the Nativity (though it would have been straight gold had we), but near the end of the night I found myself thinking about the lessons learned from each member of that first Christmas night; particularly the wise men.

We don't know many things about these men. How many were there actually? How did they know one another? Where were they from other than simply 'the east'? Amidst the many things we do not know, we know this: they sought out Jesus of Bethlehem. They not only saw a new star, but had enough spiritual capacity to then follow it and later be warned by God to take another route home. They did find the Savior, fell down and worshipped him even, and presented him with precious gifts of gold, frankincense and myrrh. They then, following their received warning, departed another way rather than return to King Herod with a report of the child (see Matthew 2).

Though hardly mentioned and scarcely described, there are many things to learn from these mysterious men of Orient.

S E E K   H I M
That's the real reason behind Christmas, isn't it? Like the wise men, we too seek to find Christ in our lives and make at least a little more room for him. We may not have a physical star to guide us, but we have his word, a living prophet and apostles, and the Spirit to help us lead lives that follow his own.

The wise men were no doubt men of a spiritual nature. As mentioned before, they saw the star and knew it to be a sign of the Messiah's birth. The faith of these individuals to travel to another land to see the newborn king is inspiring. Though we need not relocate physically to find him, following in his ways, becoming a little more like him each day, and inviting him into our lives and our hearts does sometimes require us to leave our comfort zone, turn away from 'the norm', and make intentional effort to go to him in a spiritual sense.

T H E   G I F T S
The Bible records 3 gifts the wise men presented the Christ: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. We all have a solid grasp, I think, on what gold is: it was precious and majestic, a mineral of kings. The other two, however, require some digging. Frankincense, for example, was used by cultures including (but not limited to) the Greeks, Romans, Egyptians, and Israelites as a part of their religious ceremonies. Both spices were likely burned in nearly all temples of the time and considered anointing oils of kings and priests. These gifts represent the wise men's understanding that Mary's son was, indeed, the Messiah sent to redeem mankind. They bestowed these holy gifts fit only for a holy king on bended knee before the child as they worshipped him. They knew his significance, they praised his glory. What, then, do we offer him? What can we offer him?

In the Bible, we read that the sacrifice God asks from us is that of a broken and contrite heart (Psalms 51:17). He calls to us just as he did to his apostles long ago on the shores of Galilee to follow him so that he might make us more than we could ever be on our own (Matthew 4:19-20). That decision to "leave our nets," so to speak, is what we can offer the Savior of the world. It is all that he asks for. Our "nets" might be anger, a bad habit, an addiction, a toxic relationship, worldly cares, sometimes our own dreams or plans - anything that detracts us from following the Lord and living according to his will and commandments. For Christ's disciples, leaving their nets meant leaving their jobs, source of income, their livelihood. They set aside their plans, their goals, everything they were in that moment to follow the Son of God and find a greater path.

A N O T H E R   W A Y
So what happened after the wise men found the baby? What do we do after we have come to Christ? After we have sought him? After we have found him and made the decision to offer him our heart? Matthew 2 tells us the wise men were warned of God and "departed another way." They changed their course.

Likewise, we must change ours. Coming to Christ is accomplished first and foremost through faith in him, his words, and his deeds both past and present; faith to try and live by his teachings. Faith to put him first. This faith inevitably leads to repentance - the act of turning from an old life, changing our course, to a new one - a better one.

It is so appropriate that our traditional celebration of Christmas and the New Year be so close in the timeline. We must first and always seek Christ, but we then must resolve to change the course of our lives and become something, someone new through following his example. Our meager efforts coupled with his infinite perfection then help us each day to echo the worlds of Paul in saying that we are new creatures in Christ and that old things are passed away and all things have become new (2 Corinthians 5:17; 3 Nephi 12:47).

Despite mistakes, shortcomings, bad moods and hard times, may we keep this holiday spirit of Christ and of change in our hearts beyond January 1st. May we ever seek the Savior, offer him our hearts, and choose to go another way - his way.

Witness Happiness

I had a moment the other day.

You know the kind.

The "wo is me, my life is so hard, omg what is life" sort of moment. We all have them.

Mine, however, was triggered by the most trivial of trivials: an intramural volleyball game. You see, I pride myself in the time and energy I have invested over the years in avidly supporting my friends in their intramural endeavors. Flag football? Tell me what field you're playing on. Basketball? Do you need someone to run the scoreboard? Ultimate frisbee? I hate it, but you know I'm there. I love watching my friends play, I love being psycho on the sidelines, I love making the occasional snide comment to the refs just to keep things interesting (lol). However, in some way unbeknownst to me, I seemed to have incidentally and unfortunately developed the idea that Intramural Support Karma is a thing, or at least should be. You'd think I was pulling teeth to get someone to simply come line judge a game (volleyball teams must provide their own line judge every game). So to hope someone would come and simply support? Preposterous! It is that sort of thinking that spiraled me into thoughts such as:

"I swear he is only my friend when convenient to his time and schedule."

"When was the last time she actually reached out to me to hang out?"

"I know she's married, but there has got to be some time to squeeze me in, right?"

"Sure, we're hunky dory when we see each other, but we practically never do see each other."

Toxic, right? I know. Thankfully, I don't usually think this way, but that night, boy was I on a roll down a steep and rugged cliff!

Well, it was no coincidence that during my "moment," I happened to be nerding out and watching what are to be considered some of the best advertisements of the last 10 years (domestic as well as foreign). It was then I stumbled upon this gem:

Now, I am by no means comparing myself to that man. His genuine and pure desire to help, lift, love, and serve surpasses my own by immeasurable quantities. I am, however, contrasting that man's mindset to my own. I don't know how accurately the subtitles convey what the ad's script is designed to portray, but you get the message, right? He's not looking for anything in return - and good thing, because in most of the scenarios, he received nothing.

When you saw that little girl, now in new clothes running to her mom after school, how did you feel? Yeah, I choked up too. I know this ad is for Thai Life Insurance, but isn't there so much truth and transparency to it? That man may not have received anything in return, but I love the translated subtitles that said he witnessed happiness. What if that were our goal and our greatest desire? Not to get our friends to come cheer us on at our intramural games, but to keep going to theirs because you want to watch them thriving at something they love. The emotions that are sparked by making someone else happy and witnessing that joy far outshines having someone on your own sideline.

And so, here I sit: on the couch in my apartment at 9pm on a Thursday night while one roommate is with her fiancé, another on a date, and the third having a blast in St. George; yet here I sit grateful for that "wo is me" moment a couple days ago so that tonight, rather than boiling over the fact that things like Intramural Support Karma are probably never going to be a thing, I can rejoice in the happiness that I get to witness around me every single day in the lives of people I truly love. And to my friends out there: thank you for letting me be the psycho on your sideline.

If You Give a Mom a Brownie

If you give a mom a brownie...

She'll probably make sure you've already had one first.

Once you assure her that you have, she'll smile and go to the fridge to get some milk to have with it.

But when she opens the fridge, she might notice that there are no more eggs.

When she notices there are no more eggs, she'll most likely throw on whatever shoes are closest to her and head to the store.

When she gets to the store she'll fill her cart in no time.

She'll grab her husband's favorite protein mix, her son's favorite cereal, her daughter's favorite yogurt and a new toy for their dog.

She'll probably run into a neighbor or some friends and take the time to ask them about their day.

When they tell her about their day, she'll probably ask if there is anything she can do for them.

When they smile warmly and thank her for her generosity, but tell her not to worry, she will probably, no, definitely already have a list of 14 things in mind that she could do for them.

While waiting in line to pay, she'll offer to cover the $6 the lady in front of her is short for her groceries.

Once she pays and goes back to her car, she'll notice... she forgot the eggs.

On her way home, she will most likely stop at someone's house, just to remind them that they are loved and cared for.

When they tell her of their struggles in life, she'll want to buy them flowers to brighten their day.

So she does.

The flowers will make her think of her own garden and the weeding that needs to be done.

So she'll go home, unload the groceries, then start with the front yard.

Once she's done weeding, she'll decide the lawn could use a mow.

Probably the backyard too.

And that bush doesn't look good there anymore. It should go.

Once done with her outdoor extravaganzas, she'll want to take a shower.

So she'll go to the laundry room to take off her dirty shoes and she'll see the stack of clothes that need to be washed.

And so she'll start a load.

That will remind her of her daughter's costume she is supposed to make for her school play.

So she'll grab her sewing machine and her fabric and go to town.

One entirely homemade princess dress later, she'll want to call her sister to tell her about it.

They'll catch up and laugh, and a couple minutes will quickly turn into an hour.

At the end of that hour, her kids will come running in from the school bus to show her all the things they did that day.

Then, being kids. They'll want a snack.

They'll ask for a peanut butter sandwich and some milk.

So she'll grab the bread and the peanut butter, a knife and three plates.

She'll make them each a sandwich, pour each of them a glass of milk.

And chances are, once she takes a sip of her own milk...

She's gonna want that brownie to go with it.


If You Give a Mouse a Cookie was one of my favorite books when I was younger. I still remember all of the wild tangents that stinkin' mouse went on before finally eating that stupid cookie! And so, in honor of my own mother's birthday today, I decided to change the story a bit... Now, instead of the protagonist being a scatter-brained mouse that can't seem to figure out what he wants in the day, no less, in life, it is now a self-less mother who dedicates every waking moment to nurturing, caring for, and loving those around her. In fact, she becomes so outwardly absorbed in those around her that she completely spaces on her brownie! Yep, this novel will go down in history with the rest of the classics.

But in all seriousness, while the greater intent of this post is to be a happy birthday tribute to my own mother (she who, in my eyes, embodies the entirety of the sacred word 'mother'), it serves also as a salute to mothers everywhere. From mormon moms of 12 to empty nesters to women who, though perhaps lacking children, still possess and live to develop motherly qualities.

I am convinced that there is no verb in any known language to the human race that is capable of adequately expressing all a mother does for her child. From the moment of conception to well beyond the moment she herself parts from this life, a mother never stops giving, sacrificing, hoping, and praying for her child. It truly is a love unparalleled by any other on this earth.

I am also convinced that we never stop needing our mothers. As infants, we depend on them to feed us, change us, bathe us, put us to sleep. We then need their hands to support us and teach us to walk. As toddlers, we need their goofiness, their guidance, and their all-too-often over-extended patience. As a preteen, we need their gentleness, their discipline, we depend on them to introduce us to the first, ever-so small glimpse of 'the world' that middle school provides us. In our daunting teenage years, we need space. And, most of the time, they give it. We also need their encouragement, their unconditional love, their awkward attempts to talk about important things, their rules, their uncontainable shouts at the refs. Yes, we need all of these things. But then what? When we 'grow our wings' and leave the nest, do we still need our mothers as we did for our first 18-some years of life?

My mother once told me, 'I feel like you just don't need me anymore.' At this point in my life, I had graduated high school and had moved on to my first year of college. This statement bothered me more profoundly than any insult, rumor, or injustice I had ever heard in my lifetime. I remember then explaining to my mom that just because I didn't need her in the ways she expected/wanted to be needed, didn't mean I didn't need her at all. Being more grown up, I need her example of love, her courage and her steadiness in the consistent discouragements of life. I need her advice, counsel, guidance and direction when asked for. I need her support in my trials and her celebration in my victories. I need her example of homemaking so that I might one day establish a home for my own children filled with the same love, fun, respect, and kindness that my childhood home was filled with to the brim. And, yes, I need her patient, ever-available ear to listen to my endless rantings about boys.

Perhaps I no longer need her to do my laundry, buy my groceries, or provide a roof over my head, and my needs will most likely continue to change throughout the years, but one thing remains constant and sure:

I will forever need my mother.

So, happy birthday to the woman who bears my burdens, protects me, nurtures me, and loves me to no end. I celebrate the day that she was born, I celebrate her childhood and teenage years that built her and molded her into an amazing woman. I celebrate her meeting my amazing father. I celebrate every decision they have made in their marriage up to this point that has shaped and crafted my own life into the one I currently live and love.

And to the rest of you mothers out there--you are needed, you are appreciated, and you are so very loved.

Falling to Pieces

I have been thinking quite a lot lately about a particular word. Not only does it cross my mind every now and then, but it also has been used rather prominently in many of my recent conversations with various people. After 4 or 5 consecutive days of this word popping up again and again, I figured I would dedicate one of my many 'productive' study breaks to trying to understand it better. Here are just a couple of the things I found:

Google.com: dis·man·tle (v): take (a machine or structure) to pieces.
synonyms: take apart, pull apart, pull to pieces, disassemble, break up, break down

Merriam-Webster.com: Known first use to be in the late 1570s; derived from a medieval french word "desmanteler" meaning 'to tear down the walls of a fortress.' Or, literally: des- meaning "off, away" + manteler meaning "to cloak."


So here I am, reading all of these little tid-bits about this strange word, thinking that there MUST be something for me to learn. Surely there could be purpose somewhere in these definitions and factoids.

SIDE NOTE: I have had a very rattling last couple of weeks that have pushed me to my emotional and physical and social limits; so, I was a little insulted that this word kept coming up in conversation. Trust me, I was well aware that various parts of my life were being 'pulled to pieces.' I was up to speed with the fact that my emotions were all 'breaking down.' Ya know?

And I don't think I am wrong to believe that we have all had these moments, or days, or weeks, or months.... hopefully not entire years, though.

We know what it is to feel on the verge of bursting at the seams. Life seems to play Russian Roulette with all of our emotions and at any given moment we could spit straight rage at anyone in our general vicinity, or we could erupt into a sputtering sprinkler of tears. To feel that way is difficult, it is exhausting, and it is frustrating. Why? Because we allow ourselves to lose a certain amount of control over our own emotions. I was at this point. Heck, I am still trying to leave that point. And I am getting there. And this is how.

I scanned a couple of more websites that popped up in my google search of 'dismantle' and recognized that many of the sites touch on a particular point. They explain that by taking a car or a computer or even a human corpse (gross, I know) apart, one can isolate a specific problem and even understand significantly better the object's purpose and how it functions. So, I thought of this same concept in terms of me: Ciara Lynne Stastny.

Maybe I needed to be taken apart, broken down, dismantled, if you will, so that I might be able to isolate any particular problem(s) and also better understand myself, my purpose, and how I function. This train of thought then led me to thinking about a quote I heard a couple of months ago from one of my professors here at BYU. His name is Shad Martin, he teaches a handful of religion courses, and this quote blew my mind when I first heard it, so you may need to prepare yourself:

"If you are on the strait and narrow path, life is never falling apart, but most likely just falling into place."

After he said that, it was one of those moments when everyone in the room just sort of lets it sink in for a second, drops their jaw just a little, then types furiously on their laptops before they forget even one word.

Now, y'all reading this should know that I very much, with everything that I am composed of, believe that there is a God and that He is also our loving Heavenly Father. I believe He has a very specific plan for each of His children that is full of love, guidance, and happiness should we choose to follow it. THAT plan is what Shad is referring to when he says 'the strait and narrow path.' He means that if we are striving to know and follow God's will, if we are living His commandments, and if we are trying our best to walk in the ways of His son, Jesus Christ, then life can never actually be falling apart. Instead, it is falling into place. (for more questions about what in the world this 'plan' is that I was talking about, please see: www.lds.org/topics/plan-of-salvation)

His quote, aside from giving me goosebumps, makes me ask myself 2 questions:
1. Am I on the strait and narrow path?
2. If so, how could *this be my life falling into place?
      *this crisis, this failure, this struggle, this frustration, this heartbreak, this worry, this problem, etc.

And so, I did some self-evaluating. I found that, for the most part, I am on the strait and narrow path. But, being human and being Ciara, there is so much room for improvement. A list was made, goals were set, and plans were put in place (like, this all happened tonight... right before I started typing this). I can also, now, address question number 2 and see how certain recent 'less-than-ideal' events in my life have been possibly leading me somewhere better that I could not have gone without such experiences.

In the end, I am grateful. I am grateful to my God for His grace and His mercy that He shows me on a daily basis as I consistently and constantly fall short. I am grateful to wonderful parents who have taught me to trust in God more than anyone or anything else. I am grateful for amazing roommates and friends that walk on either side of me, in front of me, and behind me, keeping me on this 'strait and narrow' path that is not always the easiest journey-but it is always the happiest. I am grateful that I am being dismantled right now so that I might see myself with new perspective before being put back together again. And I am so excited to one day be able to see how all of these trying experiences and struggles will end up helping my life fall into its proper place.