My friend's mom helped me cut the cover pieces to the size I wanted and then I took it to Kinko's to get it bound.(Vicki, do you remember helping me with this?) I used matte board for the cover and I would not recommend that. Almost too tough to bind through.
Anyway I will share a poem I wrote and a little journal entry about Jason and I from when we were dating. Read on!
These pictures are like the preview feature on Amazon. You get the cover, the table of contents and one brief excerpt. Don't want to reveal too much you know.
The scripture of inspirationNovember 1st, 2000 Wednesday:
I realized today while working at the store (I worked at the Mattawa Le-pre-kon deli) that I actually have a pretty good plot for a book whenever I get the courage and make time. It would be about a young girl who knows a boy that really likes her, but she doesn't like him. She brushes him off, doesn't appreciate him, thinks she wants something else and then goes off to college. While there she dates other guys-one semi-serious but they break up after Christmas. He serves a mission and tries to get over her. Circumstances bring them back together and they continue to get to know each other. She realizes his good qualities and that he's the type of guy she's always wanted. She has to serve a mission though. What will happen when she gets back? Throw a little self-discovery and communication lesson in there and I have a church novel fashioned after my own life. I mean really, I was talking with my mom about this tonight, my story is something you only hear about in the movies or a book. I mean for Jason and I to get back together after two years. Crazy! And then to be called to his mission. Amazing! There's plenty of interesting conflict and twists.
Isn't that so funny?! This was written before I learned that Jason was gong to go back out on his mission (to my mission) and finish the 18 months he had remaining.
Now the poem:
This is the reason that I opened this book in the first place as I was placing binders in boxes and un-shelving our stored stuff. I inserted these really cool scrapbook pages throughout the journal thinking that I'd fill them with writings or pictures or thoughts. I never did. But I liked the idea of it.
Isn't that so funny?! This was written before I learned that Jason was gong to go back out on his mission (to my mission) and finish the 18 months he had remaining.
Now the poem:
This is the reason that I opened this book in the first place as I was placing binders in boxes and un-shelving our stored stuff. I inserted these really cool scrapbook pages throughout the journal thinking that I'd fill them with writings or pictures or thoughts. I never did. But I liked the idea of it.
My Very Last Day
At the end of the day of my very last year,
What memory of me will stand out clear?
Will they remember the friend fights in school-
Youth at a time of growth so cruel?
Will they bring to mind report cards and grades-
Book smart learning that eventually fades?
Will they focus on sports played in their season?
Or a big brother's advice and playful teasing?
Will they smile and recall college days with the books,
Naps in the library, studying in nooks?
Will they think of the friendships made everlasting?
A Ricks College play with excellent casting.
Will they think first of the call to a mission far-
The nervous anxiety to teach or drive the mission car?
They won't remember nights of sleepless worry
Over friends, family, grades-life lived in a hurry.
They won't remember the tears of woman or child,
Or the striving to be more gentle and mild.
They'll never know the hours of reading
Studying, pondering, spiritual bleeding.
They won't remember the intents of my heart
Or the extra hours spent doing my part.
They won't remember the process of learning-
The inspiration, trials, motivation, the yearning.
They won't remember the goals that I set and strove to achieve
That a legacy of Christ would be the one that I leave.
They won't remember the refiners fire or the storms endured in their size.
They'll only remember the work I perform and the light of Christ in my eyes.
At the end of the day of my very last year
The memory of me which I hope stands clear
Is one of a woman connected to life-
Who wasn't without her trials or strife;
A mother and wife who shows by example
That she is firm rooted-one of Christ's true disciples.
I don't really have words after this. The first part, obviously, is about things that I've experienced growing up. You could insert your own rhyming lines of what you've encountered in your life. The rest speaks so clearly to my heart of what it takes to really come to be like the Savior and how no one will remember the behind the scenes stuff. In fact no one will really know much of that stuff. It's more the way we act and the light of Christ (or lack thereof) that people will remember. I felt goose bumps as I read it again. It rings just as true as the day that I wrote it.
What memory of me will stand out clear?
Will they remember the friend fights in school-
Youth at a time of growth so cruel?
Will they bring to mind report cards and grades-
Book smart learning that eventually fades?
Will they focus on sports played in their season?
Or a big brother's advice and playful teasing?
Will they smile and recall college days with the books,
Naps in the library, studying in nooks?
Will they think of the friendships made everlasting?
A Ricks College play with excellent casting.
Will they think first of the call to a mission far-
The nervous anxiety to teach or drive the mission car?
They won't remember nights of sleepless worry
Over friends, family, grades-life lived in a hurry.
They won't remember the tears of woman or child,
Or the striving to be more gentle and mild.
They'll never know the hours of reading
Studying, pondering, spiritual bleeding.
They won't remember the intents of my heart
Or the extra hours spent doing my part.
They won't remember the process of learning-
The inspiration, trials, motivation, the yearning.
They won't remember the goals that I set and strove to achieve
That a legacy of Christ would be the one that I leave.
They won't remember the refiners fire or the storms endured in their size.
They'll only remember the work I perform and the light of Christ in my eyes.
At the end of the day of my very last year
The memory of me which I hope stands clear
Is one of a woman connected to life-
Who wasn't without her trials or strife;
A mother and wife who shows by example
That she is firm rooted-one of Christ's true disciples.
I don't really have words after this. The first part, obviously, is about things that I've experienced growing up. You could insert your own rhyming lines of what you've encountered in your life. The rest speaks so clearly to my heart of what it takes to really come to be like the Savior and how no one will remember the behind the scenes stuff. In fact no one will really know much of that stuff. It's more the way we act and the light of Christ (or lack thereof) that people will remember. I felt goose bumps as I read it again. It rings just as true as the day that I wrote it.
